The next couple of days he dedicated to warding the cellar. Workaholic he might have been in a previous life but he absolutely drew the line at sleeping in the same place he brewed. It just wasn't good for your health. The basement wasn't used for much anyway, the family not having enough possessions to need additional storage.

He needed a safe place to work where he wouldn't be interrupted and to that end he carefully carved boundary runes into the lintel of the doorway to the cellar, marking the area as separate to the house. More runes carved into the floorboard under the runner in front of the doorway 'encouraged' people to move past it. Into the small window frame at the top of the wall looking to the yard went muggle repelling delineations and a sort of notice-me-not that would make eyes glaze over and slide past it if you weren't written into the ward. For all of these he took a small blade and smeared a drop of blood from his left middle finger which added power to the magic and proclaimed it his so it would be unremarkable to even magical eyes.

He also needed to set up a ventilation system to prevent unusual smells or sights leaving the boundary of the space. He most certainly did not need his neighbours commenting to his father on the sight of violet smoke leaving the basement. It took him an hour or so to perform the complex air filtration enchantments needed on the small window.

It had taken him a while but his lab was starting to take shape. Next came the soundproofing charms to be woven into the walls and ceiling to disguise the sound of his presence there. He transfigured a large hardwood workbench at just the right height for him and non reactive metal shelving which would be easy to clean.

Finally on the third day he implemented the safety warding; protections against explosions, toxic vapours, making the floor impermeable, protections to make certain fire could not spread and to contain potentially hazardous spills to a manageable area.

He worked like someone possessed in order to get the lab up and running as soon as possible. When it was operational he stored his ingredients carefully according to the system he learnt years ago during his first apprenticeship. Severus didn't want to keep Mr Mulpepper waiting any longer than necessary if he was to build his reputation.

By the evening of the fourth day he has almost filled the apothecary's first order of various basic potions and salves. It has taken him longer than he would like because he doesn't have all the equipment he needs to work truly efficiently and Severus was starting to feel like something reanimated.

He'll go back to Diagon first thing in the morning to make his deliveries.

He slips into a routine.

He doesn't understand why it's him that's ended up in this situation, so he makes lists of important events and information he remembers from the first time through and finds that there are distressing gaps particularly in the earlier years where he been absorbed in his studies and much of his understanding of what was happening is hearsay or grandiloquent boasting of questionable veracity.

He knows the names and faces of many and their crimes, their associates although exact details of the when and the how and the why are more difficult to pin down. He accepts eventually that the real research is going to have to wait for Hogwarts. He watches the newspapers for signs.

The work in Knockturn is one thing as Mulpepper thankfully pays in cash, he also regularly checks the information board for small brewing work going at the Guild and becomes a familiar face there. Soon he's on first name terms with Marjory Thistlethwait which is just as well as he has to work horribly hard not to lisp when he pronounces her surname.

He called the business (although that is a very loose term) Loristan Brewers when he advertised his services in a small ad in the back pages of the Prophet and on the board at the Guild. It gives him some anonymity, he knows full well if potential clients are aware of his age they are less likely to hire his services. He also didn't think anyone was likely to realise the reference to the Frances Hodgson Burnett novel and couldn't quite resist the opportunity to thumb his nose at his persistently racist Wizarding relatives.

Business trickled in slowly at first but Mr Mulpepper who was an otherwise ornery old man kept him steady. He had a number of suppliers but fair was fair he didn't care who you were so long as the quality of your work was good and you were licensed. He never asked too many questions and had never commented that first day when Severus had shown up with two lovely shiners just handed him the bruise cream.

Home stays the same. Cold and dingy. The atmosphere a pulled thread of tension always ready to snap. But he has tea and biscuits and winding the wool at the Wexlers and he has his lab where he is safe.

It's a grey kind of day on the 9th January 1971 and the rain seems to have followed him down from the north. It isn't the vicious sideways type that stings your ears and freezes the tip of your nose like up there though, if anything the rain seems more genteel in the south, apologetic for its rowdier cousin.

He's sitting on the edge of the round stone fountain in the middle of Carkitt. Its bloody cold and his fingertips sting, his hairs dripping fat gobs of water down his nose. Theres a letter written on thick parchment in emerald green ink in his hands and the address on it is starting to run in the rain. He swipes his hand across it so that what's written is thoroughly smudged and therefore illegible.

The last time around he had gotten up at 4 in the morning and had gone to the park to wait for the owl under his and Lily's tree. Then like now his father had been not working more often than he was and it was just good sense not to risk a flare up of tempers because of a rude awakening by owl post. Last time Lily had raced to join him as soon as she had finished breakfast and her eyes had opened so wide at the sight of the owl, a great eagle owl with a huge wingspan which had chuffed and picked at her hair.

They don't go to the same school. Girls like Lily don't get sent to St Francis they go to the big school in town, the private one with the smart blue ties and blazers for uniform. They're middle class see not Mill folk so while he's seen her from a distance in passing, walking down the high street with her sister in their patent leather mary janes he hasn't been able to bring himself to strike up a friendship with her again.

He's not the person he was the first time he was eleven.

It's complicated. He doesn't try to create a new relationship with her because of the weight of his emotions for the girl that had eventually become Lily Potter. Severus had loved her yes, deeply, and far more platonically than most would attribute to his capabilities, but he had felt indebted to her for the scraps of kindness she had thrown him and had grown to resent that. He had felt used and betrayed by her in equal measure to how ashamed of himself and desperately apologetic he'd been. He'd then been crippled by guilt and grief, more than that he had never been allowed to be angry with her and he was. She hadn't always been a good friend to him he just hadn't had anyone else and he had cherished the good memories he had had of their friendship. It was complicated. He had dedicated his entire adult life to her memory, but really it had been a desperate search for closure, long after he had lost his own will to survive.

It's enough that she's alive. Tangible, touchable, physical, irrefutable proof that all of this wasn't a dream. But where he had been 9 and full of curiosity, bursting with excitement and hunger for the wealth of opportunity Hogwarts had represented to him and full of faith in his friend it is not the same now. He's lived for forty years nearly and his Lily never grew up. She had stayed 21 and dead. He remembers the ghost of her laughter when that owl had plucked at her hair but all he feels when he looks at this letter is cold.

He shoves the letter in his pocket roughly, pulls his coat around himself and rubs his hands together to get some feeling back in his fingers. They're a bit green now from the ink which is exasperating.

He'd given himself another birthday present today anyway. There had been fewer incredulously raised eyebrows this time when he presented himself for testing at the Association first thing in the morning and it had filled him with warmth to walk away with his Advanced Brewers Licence. His lips twitched into a tiny smile.

It had taken months of work, a solid year since he had arrived in this time of practicing his exercises every night for him to stabilise his core magic enough to risk brewing higher curriculum potions but it was worth it. He could charge more for his services now and offer a broader range.

Its late by the time he gets home and the house feels cold from lack of activity, she's not come out her room then.

"Mum?" He knocked softly, biting his lip, his face against the cool wood of the door. "Mum?" He knocked a little louder. "I got my letter." He tried to interject some cheer into his voice.

He opened the door just a crack, the room was shaded, the curtains still pulled firmly shut.

"Mum?" He found himself whispering. He slipped so easily back into the habits of childhood.

"Go away!" Came his mothers sleep roughened voice.

"My Hogwarts letter came Mum." He held it up so she could see it in the light of the hallway. Her face fell a notch, setting seriously before her eyes started to glaze over, the corners of her mouth turned slightly down.

"I'm going to Hogwarts Mum." She wasn't having a good day he could tell. It was in the way her shoulders slumped in on themselves even as she leaned on one arm to look towards him.

She blinked slowly in his direction then turned to face the wall. It was a long moment before she spoke blankly "You still here child?" In a terse tone.

He didn't know what to say and doesn't want to argue with her so he silences the part of himself that's bitterly disappointed that she can't just be happy for him for once and closes the door softly between them.

It was hard for him even with the benefit of hindsight to know what to do. Eileen was ill, clearly. This kind of behaviour wasn't normal and she needed help, help which he wasn't qualified to provide. It was more evident to him now with an adults perspective. For the last year he had been keeping the house clean and using some of his income to supplement the rather meagre food budget. Only as much as wouldn't seem suspicious for him to have earned. He's supplemented his diet with nutrition potions he makes and often eats in the Alleys so at least he's growing normally and even if he's still slender he's not starved anymore.

He noticed it more than he had the last time as he was around the house more where he used to spend every spare moment anywhere else he could. It hadn't seemed odd to him the first time around, she had her ups and downs and it was simply what he knew, there hadn't been anyone in his life to show him differently. Then she was gone and he'd spent years blaming himself for it.

This had gone on long enough. He had to try something.

That night he decided to take a chance. His relationship with his father would never be good and it had some bad flareups but it was by no means as antagonistic as it had been the first time around so late after dinner while his father was out and his mother had retired to their bedroom he crept downstairs set a copy of the letter on the kitchen table and waited.

A male spouse in Wizarding law could in theory, at this point in time request the medical evaluation of their partner and have them committed to St Mungos for care against the will of said partner. It was the sort of ass-backwards Victorian era patriarchal legislative nonsense that Severus thought no sane wizard would actually attempt to use to sideline a wife by virtue of the woman in question also possessing a wand and the ability to hex your bollocks off for trying.

He kept his eyes down when he heard his father open the back door, years of learned submission at the heel of the Dark Lord teaching him that it can be a position of strength if that's what you make of it. His father saw him when he turned on the light and gave a heavy sigh. Severus could smell the whiskey on his breath but he'd lucked out it seemed the man hadn't come home wound up against the injustices of the world and swinging.

"Whats all this then." The man said in a resigned tone pulling out the chair to sit opposite him.

"Mams ill." he said then paused "She's not going to get better. Not here. You know that." For all they fought and the last lifeblood was haemorrhaging out of the relationship his father was very possessive of Eileen and the suggestion of removing her from his reach could derail the conversation immediately.

"She needs professional help." There was huge stigma against mental illnesses at this point in time and his fathers fists were beginning to tighten.

Tobias was rubbing his fingers across the bridge of his nose and his eyes pressing deeply but he was listening so Severus kept on.

"I got my Hogwarts letter today. I'll be away in September I won't be able to look after her." He flinched as Tobias stood up and pushed his chair away his fist hitting the table abruptly but ploughed on anyway "I think…I think we should call St Mungos. The wizard hospital. It's not…it's not just her mind its her magic too and she could hurt herself or one of us by accident." He actually thought it was more that her magic was withering from disuse like atrophy.

His fathers jaw was clenching, Severus could see the muscles twitching by his fathers left eye same as his did when he was throttling his temper and stayed quiet waiting.

"And who's paying for this fancy school then?" The tone was mocking.

"Mams family. Not that they want to mind they'd rather pretend I don't exist but they don't have a choice it's already paid. I'm not eligible for Muggleborn subsidy off the government because Mams a witch and legally I have to train my magic, I checked. The fund covers food and board as part of the school fees though so that's something."

Tobias snorted contemptuously. He was procrastinating Severus knew.

"Dad she can't stay here by herself. She sleeps half the day and she's terrified and confused when it starts to get dark.. She's lost in her own head half the time what if she hurts herself?" He trailed off and just dropped his head into his hands and waited their breathing seemed far too loud in the room for just two people.

"Don't be talking about your mother like that."

The quiet stretched on and on one of them looking at his hands the other at the ceiling before Tobias walked over to stand beside him.

Tobias' hand was heavy on his head "Get to bed."

He took himself back up the stairs back into bed and lay looking at the cracks in the ceiling. His chest was heavy; it didn't come naturally to him to go to others to help solve his problems, least of all Tobias but he would need the man's cooperation for this. He could compel him if necessary but there was always the chance that someone would notice so he'd prefer not to engage in mind magic while there was even a slight chance Tobias would be checked by medical professionals for tampering.

His father might agree to this if he thought he would benefit from it and both of them gone at no cost to himself but theoretically still indebted to him….

Today had proved he could make changes. If he could get his mother medical help maybe she would improve and wouldn't see life as so meaningless as to take her own.

That had gone surprisingly well. But then again people do often underestimate the mundanity of abuse. A man is not an ogre stomping fi-fi-fo-fum all over the house at all times, that's often what stimulates the fear in an abusers victim - the anticipation that you would take a wrong step and land on a mine.

Severus still hates him though and this bloody house even although he can now acknowledge the man isn't the root of all evil as he had once thought. He's seen far worse monsters since.

The day dawned cold and Severus was up early with it. So was his father who was sat at the kitchen table with a steaming mug of tea.

….

They arranged for a mind healer to come for a home visit. It did not go well and residential care was recommended.

When the time came it was incredibly painful to watch Eileen pleading and wringing her hands, looking back and forward between Tobias and the healer, clinging to his father and promising she'd do better, be better just please don't send her away until eventually after many attempts to calm her and explain that they were here to help her the healers had to sedate her.

Severus went outside to sit on the stoop when he was able to slip out. He sat curled up and staring into the middle distance, he felt so guilty about this and could only hope she would eventually forgive him and that this would give them all a chance to heal.

He heard heavy footsteps behind him.

"They told us how to get to the hospital to visit once she's settled. Dunno that I'm much comfortable with this floo like but trains expensive that far. They don't let 'muggles' in so you'll have to take yourself." Tobias sat heavily beside him and lit a cigarette.

The blue smoke curling up in his face was oddly comforting, he'd smoked for years himself.

He blew the smoke out slowly and stubbed the cigarette out turning and heading back in the house.

…..

Early onset Lethe syndrome was what she had been diagnosed with. There wasn't a cure. It was disease similar to dementia and usually caused in wixen by abuse of the mind arts or badly performed obliviation in those genetically predisposed that caused symptoms of major depressive episodes, personality swings, disordered sleep, memory loss and in severe cases catatonia, strokes and magical atrophy which responded badly to most intervention. It could be somewhat managed with potions but he shouldn't expect to see a complete recovery and improvement initially would be slow. She wouldn't be leaving the hospice for the forseeable.

Severus did his duty over the next few months and visited regularly but it could be exhausting. Changing her surroundings had caused a deterioration in her condition. She would ask over and over for Tobias then fluctuate wildly and remember how marrying a muggle had ruined her life and then castigate him for trapping her. Severus featured rarely in her tirades and was mostly referred to with contempt when she recognised him. He found it incredibly draining.

As a child he had been desperate for her approval, his memories of her had become treasured but faded and inaccurate as she had taken her life when he was at school in his 4th year. He had chosen perhaps subconsciously only to remember the best of her as he'd loved her deeply. Perhaps also with him gone at Hogwarts for most of the year she had made an effort during the Summers. He had certainly never seen any evidence in the belongings left to him that she had been diagnosed or treated in his previous life.

It had been a very difficult time for him and he had blamed his father with a vengeance fuelled by avoidance of self loathing and recrimination. His father had been increasingly violent and Eileen increasingly withdrawn from reality until she had departed reality entirely and he had reacted accordingly. That summer Lily had been away first with her family in Spain and then visiting her girlfriends, he had been so lonely and it had felt personal that she had left him without company with only his father and grief in that house. The summer after that he had accepted an invitation to stay with Lucius. He had had no intention of staying alone in that house with his father.

"You'll need to be getting your school things together before you head off. Look through that trunk of your mothers she thinks I don't know about and see what's in it you might be able to salvage." His lip curled up in a familiar sneer "Probably better if you do it, her lot don't much like us non magical types. You should be alright though."

Severus didn't think his father would ever be anything but hostile to magic, they tacitly agreed not to bring it up unless absolutely necessary. With his mother safely away in hospital he had been able to relax slightly feeling free to defend himself magically if he needed to. Finding himself a single father to all intents and purposes had been a bit of a reality check for Tobias. He still tended to look at Severus like he was some kind of alien life form he fervently wished wasn't there, but he tended more to the maudlin than violent when he was in his cups now.

For months Severus had kept his guard up in their home but they seem to be coexisting with equanimity. It would be a long, long way from acceptable if he really was an eleven year old child no matter how independent. As he is in fact a tiny adult more or less of ages with his father and running a brewery out of the basement it's not so bad, more like having a rather unpleasant housemate which after Wormtail.…his standards were rather low. Severus didn't expect Tobias to strain himself attempting any actual parenting.

He's been more or less left to his own devices. Tobias does the food shop as he doesn't trust Severus with the money but Severus does the cooking. His list of chores has gotten longer, but as no-one else is in the house he can use magic to hasten the process.

When he did bring magic up it was out of the blue like this when a practicality had crossed his mind.

"This should cover what you need off that list else wise no? You'll can get the shopping done when you go and visit your mother later." He slid some cash across to Severus. Who was kind of gobsmacked that this was happening. It wasn't much but it was something. If anything this was a sign of how eager Tobias was to see the back of him for the year.

"Thank you. Do you have a message for Mam?"

"The usual. She knows."

…..

He took a breather when he left the sterile halls of St Mungo's meandering down the streets towards Charing Cross.

It was time to get ready for Hogwarts and Wizarding society, while he had been earning money in the wixen economic sphere he had been doing so largely anonymously as it would have been significantly more difficult to garner custom if his clients were aware of the age of the producer.

Loristan Brewers was doing well, steadily gaining a reputation for quality work so when it came to purchase his school supplies Severus was in a much better position than the first time he had attended. Even as an adult he had lived a very frugal life however he was determined to start Hogwarts well.

His appearance was the first thing he needed to arrange. While he had earnings of his own he hadn't wanted to make his father aware of the extent of his financial independence so had kept his purchases minimal. By far the most valuable things he owned were all equipment as he considered those an investment in his future on which he would not skimp. However it was important to present himself in a position of strength and in the current climate that meant showing at least the veneer of wealth.

Severus had always been an efficient shopper he preferred to have a list in mind and could rarely be tempted to browse unless it was a bookshop or an apothecary. His first stop was to purchase a trunk in which to store his purchases, he bypassed the truly extortionate models some of which contained entire flats as those were still very much out of his means. He also ignored the stacks of basic school models at the front of the store as he knew from experience that they were designed to degrade so that the user would be 'encouraged' to spend more on an upgrade which would become necessary as the child aged through school.

He stopped in front of the professional models with additional compartments, now these were more to his taste as because they had been designed to be adjustable to individual clients specifications the enchantments weren't set to prevent tampering in the same way as the basic school models. This was a loophole he could exploit as he was quite talented at enchanting himself so wouldn't need to pay the additional fees at the store.

The model he chose was a deep blue leather so dark it looked black in almost all lights with silver fixings on the corners and lock. The Prince family colours were blue, black and silver. While he couldn't use the family crest as that would be a huge faux-pas (He had found that out the hard way last time when he had been sent to school with Eileen's old things which all bore a crest he was not permitted to use.) there was nothing to prevent him indulging in a little subliminal messaging. The impression that he had family behind him would give him a layer of protection at school. While he was perfectly capable of defending himself he would prefer to avoid a childish war of attrition if possible.

The trunk had three compartments allowing him to stow his equipment and ingredients, his clothes and his schoolwork separately. He added only the basic spellwork at the shop, the trunk came keyed and password locked and he asked for them to set it to shrink and resize at the touch of a wand for convenience. He would do the further warding himself and set a blood lock on it at home.

A quick thank you and he moved on to his next task of the day, he wouldn't need potions equipment or scales and he could use his mothers school telescope. He hadn't managed to salvage much from her trunk because of the crest issue, even the binders for her schoolwork had it embossed on them. He bought a large store of parchment rolls cut to standard size, ink in blue, black and his favourite red and a variety of quills. He also treated himself to a set of leather binders in a similar hue to his trunk to keep his school notes organised by subject and a pair of notebooks in lined and plain paper fo research. He had learned the ink siphoning charm early on in his school career in order to be able to reuse others scraps and had no qualms about doing so again if it became necessary but he wanted to start well equipped so that suspicion wouldn't immediately fall upon him if he needed to get light fingered.

He didn't mind using secondhand copies of the school texts as he liked to amuse himself and make his own annotations and he could repair the covers to make them look reasonably new, so he headed to Obscurus Books to look for copies of the texts he needed that his mother hadn't already owned. He lost a fair amount of time in the stacks and was unusually oblivious to his surroundings when he turned smack into the legs of a stranger behind him who was reaching for a higher shelf.

Severus scowled. Honestly could people not be more considerate, particularly if they were the size of a tree. He did not like being surprised and his magic bristled uncomfortably.

The man was tall and broad shouldered, dressed in robes of impeccable quality and wore a smirk on his suspiciously nondescript face. Severus instantly disliked him.

A weight struck his legs, when he looked down it was glaring at him.

The child was quite striking in appearance, a study in contrasts. Not a conventionally attractive child no, Tom did not think he would have been a candidate for adoption at Wools, but interesting. There was a harshness to him, sharp edges that would have kept potential placements at arms length and alienated many of his peers. There was something about him however that caught Tom's attention all the same, the more so when he allowed his gaze to drift in curiosity to the boys reading material which was well above his age bracket.

"My apologies, I didn't see you there." Tom didn't really do apologies but this sort of meaningless social lubricant was habit.

Dark hair and eyes that glinted angrily with indignation, the boy positively bristled. He was tempted to take a look but as he met the boys eyes they frosted over. An affinity for the mind arts then, better not. The corners of his lips twitched upwards. It would be laughably easy Tom thought, but not worth the potential ruckus of doing so in a public space.

The boy bowed abruptly and excused himself so he did have manners although it was done with an amusingly recalcitrant air.

Tom nodded back briefly and moved on, dismissively stepping around the boy, perhaps he would prove an interesting recruit given a few years but time would tell. He had a meeting with Abraxas shortly, they were hitting political roadblocks in trying to counter manoeuvre Summus Magistratus Dumbledore's blatant preferential treatment of the Via Lucida party despite holding a supposedly neutral office of arbiter. Nobby Leach's short tenure (what a truly awful name) as Minister for magic ending tragically in '68 having done more damage to the wixen political sphere than the Luftwaffe had to the East End.

The mans magic felt familiar and unsettling. Severus hastily paid for his books and still feeling inexplicably flustered, a slither of unease running down his spine, he walked away quickly across the cobbles. The afternoon was setting in and the streets were busy but he had to strongly resist the urge to look back over his shoulder.

He dithered outside Twillfitt and Tattings. If he stood here much longer they would think he was planning to rob them. He was feeling unnerved by his encounter with the man in the bookstore and couldn't quite put his finger on why it's not as if he recognised him. Eventually he pushed the door open, he wasn't fully certain they would agree to serve a lone child not with their general class of clientele.

The interior had none of the frantic hustle of Madam Malkins it was done in finishes of neutral colours and natural wood finishes so as not to interfere with the clients impressions of the fashions which were displayed sparsely on the mannequins around the store. They sold far less ready to wear here preferring to tailor to the individual so the overall feel of the place was less crowded by far than he was accustomed to shopping at in his youth. He had never been here before, when he had bought his teaching robes a tailor had come to see him as he had been staying at the Manor that summer and the Malfoys simply wouldn't hear otherwise.

The assistant looked up at the sound of a tinkling bell over the door, slender and blonde she reminded him superficially of Narcissa although Narcissa would never have been so uncouth as to allow the facial twitch the girl made at the sight of him.

"Twillfit and Tattings how may we help you?" She still looked quite sceptical.

He ordered his schoolrobes and tie from here, they were a better quality fabric, a heavy wool-silk blend, magic woven so that they wouldn't degrade in Hogwarts atmosphere as muggle made substances were want to do. He wasn't especially good at thread runes so he paid the extra for them to put inbuilt temperature regulation and protective runes at least on the outer layers. This would protect them from damage and minor hexes and hopefully he won't have to buy another set for at least a couple of years.

Hogwarts uniform wasn't especially restrictive regarding what students were to wear under their robes and many students particularly in Slytherin wore a traditional closed under robe which were admittedly comfortable particularly for Summer.

After the incident in fifth year Severus hadn't been able to tolerate feeling in any way exposed so opted to buy a few sets of trousers in light grey, charcoal and black in the slim fitted style he preferred and lightweight blazers again in light grey and charcoal as they were for wearing under his school robes and he was making a conscious effort to be less monochromatic. He added a set of five white linen shirts as he was well aware of how often he was likely to need a spare, a light blue Oxford and open day robe in a rich dark blue with black piping and silver fastenings for weekends and finally a heavy winter cloak in black wool with silver fastenings.

All of these he had ordered to be tailored and fitted with growth expansion charms and he felt his Adams apple bobbing with faint nausea when he went to pay. It made him feel genuinely quite ill to hand over that kind of money for clothes.

But he was nearly done, there were a last couple of things on his list, a trip to the leatherworkers to buy a satchel for school - he got one in a nice soft leather but declined the extra expense of expansion and lightweight charms his heart not quite having stopped palpitating from T&T. He had a set of his mothers old boots and gloves that he used for brewing but as he got a lot of wear out of them and would prefer to keep them for that they were old and quite scuffed and stained so he gets a pair of brogues for smart with resizing charms guaranteed for the next two years.

He ducked into the second hand robe shop briefly to pick up the pointed black hat required of all first years as he refused on principle to spend money on something he would only wear once and never again until graduation.

Finally he picked up the stock of ingredients he had ordered from Mulpeppers as he still got a small percentage discount there, made final arrangements for his continued brewing during the school year and ducked back through the floo at the White Wyvern.

He had less to do on the muggle side of things but the money his father gave him stretched to several sets of pants, vests and socks, a pair of dark green corduroys, two long sleeved cotton tops, a set of flannel pyjamas and dressing gown which he bought in town before he got the bus home to Cokesworth.

He had an early nights sleep as he was exhausted but the next morning was quite satisfied by the time he had everything spread out in his little attic room. It felt like a craft workshop with his lists of which things needed what doing spilling out into the organised chaos surrounding him.

He had wanted to make sure he could afford a high quality of everything and still needed to be careful with his funds as he was supporting his mothers hospital bills so now he had a mountain of enchanting to do, that was the expensive part really, paying for wixen skill. The first big job was his trunk which was the reason for the explosion of stuff all over his room, piles of school supplies eating up the floor space.

He carefully adjusted the enchantments on the interior compartments of the trunk to allow for more space expansion a delicate job to stabilise and anchored the enchantments with careful runic arrays. When the main job was done he began to layer, preservation and unbreakable enchantments on the ingredients compartment in which he also installed temperature sensitive sections for storage, on the clothing section he put freshening and preservation enchantments. On the section for his schoolwork he expanded the space further and put a false bottom to create a secret compartment protected by a blood locked enchantment in case he needed to protect sensitive research or restricted magic unsuitable for the children he would be surrounded for much of the year just as an extra precaution.

The warding he then proceeded to put on the trunk was a work of art and the deepest layer of wards would be nigh on impenetrable and undetectable. If anyone ever did find them it would look like overkill but hopefully no one would be looking, as he was carrying around all his earthly possessions it felt appropriate. He set alert wards and a variant of his own of the blood lock enchantment on it so that it would only open to his touch but in conjunction with a password he had to project mentally but not say out loud. Those were the important precautions but he also set a series of silly wards typical of schoolboys which would zap you or cause you to speak gibberish and a spell of his own creation with a tricky intent based modifier that would turn your hands blue if you touched his things with the intention of theft or damage as distractions.

He put undetectable expansions on his satchel and robe pockets and theft deterrents on his bag, books and binders. He was not going to have a repeat of the indignity of the marauders attacking him with his own spells and mucking about with his homework. He marked all of his possessions as his, not visibly so just with a small tag of his magic that would allow him to track anything that went missing and packed those away.

In his teens he had learnt a fair amount of thread magic out of necessity, although he wasn't particularly elegant at it which was why he'd been willing to pay for a professional to do the outer garments. So when he had packed away his other purchases he took out a needle and thread and began to stitch. This was the kind of thing that wixen mothers usually did for their children and that nobody had done so the last time had been another marker of neglect. He stitched tiny runes into the material of his underwear and socks that would keep them white and fresh no matter how often they were washed. Into his muggle clothes he put preservation runes at the seam markers, it wasn't a perfect solution they would still fall apart faster than his other clothes. Eventually all his belongings were ready and prepared to Severus' standards, as protected as he could make them and his packing was done for the most part.

….

On August 31st he packed up his lab into his trunk in the morning, he wasn't worried his father would find anything but he wanted access to all the equipment he had accumulated over the last two years. It was also unclear to him whether he would be returning at the end of the year.

He took the time as well to make sure his hair was freshly washed and free of magical residue from brewing, his nails neatly trimmed and his hands free of stains, his teeth straightened and gently whitened with charms.

He looked unremarkable, wouldn't stand out as a victim of obvious neglect. He was ready.