by Melissa Jooty (e-mail me at cosmic_quest@yahoo.com)
CHAPTER TWO- Steven
She never thought the day would come; the day when she saw Severus Snape- grumpy Potions Master by day, Death Eater spy by night- as guileless and vulnerable. However, as Minerva regarded the boy who, in youthful glee, tossed a ball around his bedroom for Snuffles, she couldn't help but be touched by his delight and purity. He was seemed so completely unaware of the evils in the world, of the monstrosity so eager to have the boy back within his tight grasp.
And as her mind darkened when she thought of the He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named's threat, she vowed to keep her exceedingly young colleague safe in a way she was unable to do in his real childhood. Minerva was astonished by the force of her protectiveness towards Severus. Of course she could put it down to the fact this was a six-year-old child, who had the intellect and knowledge of their thirty-six-year-old Potions Master, wandering around unsupervised in the Muggle world and now they had one of Voldemort's followers showing a keen interest in him.
But it was more than that.
Snape, despite his moodiness with the pupils, was a good teacher and had been a loyal friend of hers. Since he had come to Hogwarts as a fellow professor, she had come to see the true Severus, the one hidden behind the facade of grimness and smouldering anger, and she valued him as good friend and close ally. His childhood and his teenage years at Hogwarts were not the happiest, in part due to some of the teachers who were harsher to the Slytherin children, and it was no great surprise when he fell to the darkness. But unlike the majority of Voldemort's followers, Snape fought his way back to the side of the Light and worked hard, often at risk to his own life, to right his sins and bring a final end to the Dark Lord.
In her eyes, he had redeemed himself and she would be damned if she was going to let Snape, be it the six-year-old Severus or the adult Potions Master, fall back to the abomination that was Voldemort. They had already lost so many good people to the Dark Lord; he wasn't going to win this time.
"D'you like my room?" Severus asked, finally dragging himself away from Sirius' side.
His bedroom was painted a sky blue, rather tidy for a child, and while there was the typical little boy possessions doted around, there was a definite theme to the room itself. There was a couple of posters of unicorns and mystical castles adorning the walls, books on what Muggles considered to be magic lay on the desk and there was a small collection of ornamental dragons, griffins and wizards arranged on a shelf. Evidently, magic remained a large part of Severus despite his strange predicament.
"It's very nice," Albus replied with a warm smile. "Do you like magic?"
She could see by the twinkle in his cerulean blue eyes he was as fond of the young Severus as he was of the elder Snape, had accepted this child was the Potions Master and was almost enjoying this new insight into his friend.
"It's interesting," Severus replied earnestly. He then frowned in irritation. "But Barret, he says there's no such thing as magic. He says the people who do it are just doing illusions and tricks."
"Who's Barret?" the Headmaster asked.
"He's one of the older boys, he goes to high school. He's a twit though, always asking me to help him with his chemistry and maths."
"You're good at your schoolwork?"
Well, of course he was, he had finished up school seventeen years ago and was now a teacher himself. Nonetheless, they had to test his abilities for themselves.
"Uh-uh, teacher says I'm some sort of gifted child, make me do special classes. I think school is all rather stupid, I can do all the work and they don't really know what to do with me now." He didn't sound arrogant, merely stating a fact. Even as a child, Severus found it difficult to take pride in his abilities. "Sometimes I finish up so quickly; I can spend the rest of the day thinking about things like magic and that."
Dumbledore beckoned Severus closer then whispered conspiratorially, "Well, you're right, there *is* such a thing as magic."
He was rewarded with a dazzling grin from Severus, two neat rows of tiny milk teeth flashing beatifically, and Minerva smiled faintly when she saw the elderly wizard adoringly tousle the boy's raven hair. Albus Dumbledore might have been one of the most accomplished wizards, however, those who knew him could easily see his true love was not magic but children. And Severus was certainly a beautiful child now he was free of the scowl and the darkness which plagued his former life.
While Severus knelt down by Snuffles' side, stroking the dog's head, and Albus strode to the window to survey the children playing on the grassy grounds below, Minerva gazed around the room once more. It was then something on the bedside cabinet caught her eye. There, propped up against the wall, was a small shield of the Slytherin crest and beside it was what looked like Severus' own wand.
McGonagall picked up the shield, preferring not to disturb the wand knowing the Potions Master would occasionally charm it against the hold of hands other than his. "Where did you get this from, Se...Steven?" Merlin, she would have to remember to refer to him by his new name.
"Lucius gave it to me," was the open, honest reply. "He says he went to this school and there were four teams. His was called Slythin or something like that; he said all the best people belong to that team."
The Deputy Head teacher exchanged a worried glance with Dumbledore and Black. Malfoy was certainly doing well in his task as recruitment officer.
"You enjoy the time you spend with Lucius?" Minerva carefully asked.
"Yeah, he's very clever. He lets me do anything I want and he tells me about his son and his boss who can do all sorts of magic." His voice lowered to a musing whisper. "And he teaches me things..."
"What kind of 'things'?"
She didn't mean to sound so stern with him; however, concern sharpened her voice. God only knew in what ways Lucius Malfoy was heinously corrupting this child, especially since his tutoring went unchecked by the Muggles. Snape had always been fascinated in the Dark Arts, if wouldn't take much for Malfoy to re-ignite that interest.
Severus stiffened, glowering at her quizzing. He never was a boy who took demands well. "Just things, secret things I'm not telling."
Minerva bit back the urge to take ten points from Slytherin for cheek; she had to remember he was not one of her students. Why, even when did they finally bring him back to Hogwarts, he would still be several years away from joining the First Years in class.
Dumbledore sighed then squeezed Severus' shoulder lightly. "We only want to help you, child, and I want you to know you can tell us *anything*, if you have a problem then you simply inform us and we'll be there for you. I can only hope you come to trust us in time."
Through hooded eyes, Severus regarded them with perceptiveness rather unnatural from one so young. He then nodded, as if something had been confirmed for him. "Perhaps I will..."
There was a hushed silence, the three adults taken aback by the silky agreement. It was moments like this which led Minerva to wonder how anyone could mistake him for being a normal child. He was so self-aware and composed for a small boy and, as a teacher who had the privilege to teach some of the most magically advanced children of the wizarding world, she knew such dispositional attributes could not be entirely explained by gifted intelligence.
Of course, she herself had difficultly accepting the situation; a Muggle would find the idea of a man being reverted into his childhood form preposterous at best, or the delusions of a lunatic at worse. Not to mention, Severus during his true childhood had been an odd little thing, so reserved and self-possessed compared to the other boys his age. Occasionally, she remembered catching a strange glint in his eyes that almost suggested he knew more than he let on, that he was only humouring them when he stumbled on a charm or transfiguration problem.
Perhaps, Voldermort had seen the same in the quiet little Slytherin boy who finished school with marks topping even those of Gryffindor's golden couple James Potter and Lily Evans.
Abruptly a young dark-skinned,
pig-tailed girl leapt into the bedroom, her sudden appearance jerking the
witch out of her reverie. "Hey, Sev, they said you got visitors," the girl
said. "It's supper time, David ordered us all pizza."
"Okay, we'll be right down, Allie." The little girl then ran off with the
same whirlwind energy she had entered.
"Why did your friend call you 'Sev'?" Minerva asked, hoping that the boy
did at the very least recall his real name.
"Oh, well, the man who found me in the desert said I'd told him my name was
'Seven' or something like that. 'Course I'd never survive school if I went
in with a name like Seven so they changed it to 'Steven' instead but I don't
mind it when people call me 'Sev'." He stood up. "We need to go downstairs
now," Severus explained. "You like pizza?"
Snuffles, who had spent several months in the Muggle world when he was still
on the run, perked up at the word. Minerva just cringed inwardly, she hadn't
heard of the cuisine before and nevertheless she had the distinct feeling
it would not be her fare.
"Pizza?" Dumbledore repeated politely, indicating his own ignorance.
Severus was not impressed. He rolled his eyes, shaking his head in endearingly
childish exasperation. The action was such a complete turnaround on his previous
adult mannerisms that McGonagall could tell understanding the boy Severus
was going be as confusing as coming to grips with the enigmatic man he used
to be (and did that not sound strange!).
"You're never heard of pizza?! You must live some place very strange."
"That, my boy, is an understatement."
Dinner had been an interesting event; eating with thirty-two rambunctious
children aged between six and seventeen was not a quiet or clean affair. Minerva
did wish she had a camera on hand to capture the usually immaculate Professor
Snape smeared in tomato sauce and sticky cola. She was also eternally grateful
Hogwarts did not admit children under ten; the teenage students may not have
been spotless of eaters but at least they ate with their mouths shut and
the food actually ended up in their mouths rather than on their clothes or
the floor.
In the evening, Severus ran off before they could corner him again and so
they let him be, watching him play with the other children. Minerva poignantly
noticed that he seemed far more adjusted here than he had ever been at Hogwarts;
he had friends here, adults who loved each of their charges and he was happily
settled. The boy even revelled in Muggle activities such as their sports
and viewing that television contraption. Had things been different, had Voldemort
not shown such an interest, she would have been tempted to leave him here
and allow him the chance of a childhood far happier than his first one had
ever been.
Still, it was not her choice to make nor was it morally right to condemn
Severus Snape to living his whole life again at the denial of all that he
had achieved.
"Are you ready to spend the night with our young Potions Master?" Dumbledore
asked, when the wizards had finally retreated to his bedroom that he would
share with Sirius. Her own appointed room was next door.
Sirius was now in his human form leaving McGonagall to turn into her Animagus
cat form for a night of guarding Severus. This way Sirius would not be forced
to spend the entire time as a dog, on the condition he remained hidden in
the bedroom, while Snape was still watched over.
"You know," Sirius said, in an arrogant tone, "I'm actually starting to
like the git." At Dumbledore's chastising frown, he had the grace to look
apologetic. "Well, who honestly would have thought Snape would make such
a cute kid? Shame he grew up into a slimy Slytherin."
"Sometimes, child," Albus replied with his infinite supply of patience,
"it is the people around us that shape the person we become."
Dropping his eyes to the floor, Minerva could see Sirius knew the Headmaster
was not just talking about brutal parents. Schoolyard bullying and attempted
murder were just as definitive life shaping experiences as child abuse.
Not wishing to reminisce on depressing memories, the Deputy Headteacher
shifted to her feline form and wandered out the room, deliberately heading
towards the boys' wing. She hoped Severus liked cats as much as he did dogs
otherwise Sirius would be spending his entire time in America eating dog
food and playing ball.
Unfortunately for the feline Animagus, she was too eager to reunite with
Severus that she was too hasty to announce herself in cat form and she found
herself ensnarled within the clutches of the over-excited little pig-tailed
girl whom she remembered her miniature colleague calling Allie. Apparently,
Allie and three other little girls were going through that particular stage
where a small girl was delighted to have a 'doll' who made noises and moved
like a real baby should. For over an hour Minerva found herself, to her utter
indignation, subjected to being squeezed into a doll's outfit and forced
into a pram while the four little girls preened over their new toy.
When she managed to make
her escape, she could have kissed Severus when the delighted boy came upon
her. Now dressed in pyjamas decorated with some yellow cartoon character
and preparing for bed, the little boy cooed over her with the same tenderness
he had shown Snuffles. Minerva's feline features did winced slightly as Severus'
caring but clumsy six-year-old hands hefted her up into his arms and then
onto his bed, petting her head a little too zealously. She didn't struggle
though, she was too thankful after her 'ordeal' at the hands of that demon
girl.
"Where did you find that dirty cat?" Miss Roscoe clucked as she came in
to tuck the boy in his bed.
Dirty cat, indeed!
The boy smiled at his new living, breathing 'teddy'. "I found her, she must
have wandered in. She was wearing a baby-gro so I think I saved her from Allie.
She loves furry animals so much it's like she doesn't know what to do with
herself. I think that could be evidence of neurotic behaviour."
"Oh, you do, do you? You're
saving me a fortune on shrink bills, my dear Doctor Cordell." The tone was
that of an adult merely humouring a precocious child.
"There is no need to patronize me." And that tone was Severus' reminder
that he was not only a precocious child but a Snape. He turned plaintive
eyes to his caregiver. "Can I keep her? She's not foaming at the mouth so
she can't have rabies or anything dangerous."
"I wish you'd use that thousand point IQ for good things, not for conning
me into letting you have some stray cat. And it's not very hygienic for you
to be breathing in cat hair."
"Doctor Dumbledore is sleeping with Snuffles in his room."
"Doctor Dumbledore does not have growing lungs." Miss Roscoe shook her head,
obviously deciding it was easier to give in than spend all night arguing
with a stubborn child. "Okay, it can stay for tonight *then* I want
you to find out who it belongs to."
From the foot of the bed where she sat, Minerva watched with mellowing eyes
as Severus snuggled down into the covers and Miss Roscoe, brushing his tousled
hair from his forehead, kissed him lightly.
There was a lull, Miss Roscoe smoothing the covers over the little boy,
when Severus turned wide, earnest eyes up to young woman. "Jessica, the werewolf
won't come if I've got Kitty to protect me, huh?"
So, Severus still had a fear of werewolves, despite now living in the Muggle
world where such creatures were confined to fiction stories and myths. Minerva
had to wonder if his own phobia was superimposing on his life here or rather
the fear of werewolves had developed after watching on of those ridiculous
shows on the television the Muggles were so fond of.
"Oh, Steven, there's no such thing as werewolves, you don't have to be scared...but
if there was, I promise I would shoot it down before it could ever hurt you,
kiddo. I'll always protect you, okay?"
"Okay...Love you, Jessica."
The child giggled when Miss Roscoe pressed his button nose. "Love you right
back, babe."
It was such a beautiful moment between woman and boy that Minerva felt almost
the voyeur for intruding. And guilt pervaded her very soul as she remembered
she would soon be taking Severus from all this.
Miss Roscoe blessed the boy with one last loving smile before retreating
from his darkened bedroom to see to the other children. Severus stilled for
a few seconds before surprising the cat by sitting up again, flicking on
his bedside lamp.
He smiled then to Minerva's astonishment he reached his arm out and called
in a soft voice, "*Accio* book."
A story book lying on the shelves flew from its position to Severus' outstretched
hand. Only it wasn't that the boy could perform magic which had left the
feline Animagus stunned; it was the fact his wand remained untouched on the
cabinet and he had called the book to him entirely independent of the essential
tool. Wandless magic was a rare talent indeed, and those who attempted it
took many years to master it. It was truly amazing if Severus Snape was adept
at the art, more incredibly so now he was in child form.
With abrupt realization, she was beginning to see why the Dark Lord was
so keen on possessing Severus Snape as his heir and why it became all the
more important for them to prevent Voldemort from succeeding in his goal
to groom this boy as his heir.
*************************
It was barely five o'clock in the morning when Steven roused, feeling rather
refreshed than any child should at such an early hour. He knew it was odd
when most of the other children in the home would sleep to eight o'clock
at the earliest when school was out while he found he could stay up all night
if he had the chance. Of course, unlike his other age-mates in residence
at the home, he adored the twilight hours and was not in the least afraid
of the shadows and darkness. Werewolves, yes, but never the night.
Rolling out of bed and quickly changing into a pair of denim shorts and
a shirt, the boy decided to tip-toe downstairs and take advantage of tranquillity
of pre-dawn. His new friend Kitty did not seem amused by his early rising
but nevertheless she did follow him down to the large kitchen. After rewarding
the cat with a saucer of milk, Steven climbed onto the high counters so he
would be able to reach the key rack where the back door keys hung.
There was nothing like a nice walk in the dark with no-one to cluck after
him like he was some incapable twit.
He couldn't help it if he was small, if only the adults knew he was more
adept at defending himself than they could ever imagine. Jessica had bought
them a video called 'Star Wars' a few months ago and while the other boys
were attracted to the space battles and explosions, Steven found themselves
enchanted by the very basis of the film, by this Force which could elicit
special abilities in people. Watching the film comforted the boy and allowed
him to believe he was not the oddity he often felt like.
Of course, even at his tender age he knew better than to openly display
his powers. He instinctively knew not to trust adults, even Jessica who he
loved dearly, with something that could turn people's perceptions of him
from the sweet child into a dangerous monster. Only Lucius understood what
he was capable of, and so he worshipped the man who he felt could protect
and teach him to use his gifts.
His gifts...if only the others knew what he could do. He could probably
bring down the whole building if he put his mind to it. And if he did, who
would ever think to suspect him- little Steven, the amnesic kid whose own
parents burned him with a vile tattoo then abandoned him in the desert?
Shuddering slightly, he forced the black thoughts from his mind and focused
on his goal of retrieving those keys. He might only have been six years old
but Steven knew it wasn't right, it wasn't natural, to consider using his
powers for such bleak purposes.
"A little early to be up, child."
Gasping, Steven whirled around so swiftly that he stumbled from the counter.
He felt hands on his shoulder, steadying him. When he regained his balanced,
he gazed up to find himself staring into the twinkling blue eyes of Doctor
Dumbledore. Standing on the worktop, he was now at equal height with the
old man, who was studying him in amusement.
"I'm sorry I scared you," he said, mildly.
"Didn't scare me!" Steven shot back.
He shrugged out of the old man's grasp and leaned back against the wall.
Steven studied Doctor Dumbledore carefully as he glanced to the cat and,
as if dismissed, the animal wandered away. Dumbledore then turned his attention
back to the boy, smiling jovially. Steven was beginning to wonder if the
old man was permanently happy; he was forever smiling at him.
And yet, the child could sense a sadness deep within Dumbledore. A melancholy
that was especially distinct when those deep blue orbs fell upon him as if
Steven himself was the cause of the woe. This was very confusing since the
two barely knew each other so why in the world would he elicit such emotions
from a man who had only met him a day ago?
"Are you allowed to be out and about so early in the morning?" the psychologist
asked, in light chastisement.
Steven bristled. "I can do what I want, you're not my lord and overseer."
The twinkle in Dumbledore's eyes dimmed at this, and the boy instinctively
knew it had little to do with his rudeness. "No, no, I'm not...I'm just concerned
for you, it's not safe to be wandering around on your own, child."
Both the tone and the words sent a cold tingle down his spine; it was like
a warning to be on his guard that went far beyond the 'do not talk to strangers'
lectures Jessica drummed into him. And why did Steven think Dumbledore was
not referring to the typical pervert or maniac?
Steven cocked his head to the side, his brow furrowing thoughtfully. "You're
not really a doctor, are you?"
He didn't know what possessed him to ask such a question, he just felt it
*wrong* to apply the term 'doctor' to Dumbledore. In many ways, it
was the same sense of discordance to think of himself as 'Steven' when the
name seemed too normal, too plain even to his amnesic mind. Just as the child
intuitively knew his real name was more in line with the peculiarity that
was 'Sever', deep within he was aware that while Dumbledore was not a doctor,
he was far more than the genial elderly man he portrayed.
"My preferential title is 'professor'," Dumbledore conceded.
"Who are you?"
"I am your friend, my dear boy, I am here to care for you." The old man's
eyes fused with his- wise blue meeting with bewildered opal- and Steven felt
the gaze boring right to his inner soul. "And who are you?"
"I'm just Steven...Just Steven." His soft words were a near-echo spoken
once by another special young boy.
Dumbledore reached out, smoothing his cheek lightly and almost lovingly.
The boy tensed, reflexively making a move to back away, but he felt himself
relaxing at the oddly familiar touch. "You will learn soon enough, child,
that not everything is how it seems..." He held out his hands, offering to
lift Steven down to the floor. "Why don't we take a walk you and I? And you
can tell me all about your friends and school. I would like to learn a little
about you."
For a moment, Steven hesitated before nodding and allowing the contact.
When the professor (it seemed easier to say that than it had been to think
of 'Doctor' Dumbledore) had set him down, the man and boy walked easily side-by-side
out the back door and into the warm Californian morning sun that was peeking
over the horizon. They moved in companionable silence for many paces until
they reached the playground where they each commandeered a swing.
"You know, my boy, I haven't played on these since I was not much older than
you, and that was most certainly many years ago."
"You don't have swings where you come from?"
"Well, little one, there are other 'activities' for the children to concentrate
on."
Steven wasn't sure what was meant by these so-called 'activities'; he was
too perturbed by a place that was devoid of pizza and playgrounds.
"Professor?"
"Yes, child?"
"Why don't you ever call me by my name? I mean, I've only heard you calling
me 'Steven' a coupla times."
"That is not your name though, is it?" was his simple reply.
Steven bit his lip uncertainly. "Do...do you think I'll ever find my real
home?"
Never before had he voiced that question, not to the police who took him
in and not to Jessica who loved and cherished him as her own son. It had
never seemed important in the eight months of tangible memory he had, he
was happy here in California despite being told he most likely came from
England, and he never had any real desire to discover his life before these
eight months. However, since meeting these people, he felt a kinship to them-
more so than he felt with Lucius Malfoy- and he knew that somehow they were
the link to his past.
"Yes, I think you will..."
**************************
From the shadows of the towering trees, he watched the snow-bearded man
sitting with the raven-haired child, his body rigid in rage and the gentle
breeze playing with his long corn silk hair, blowing it away from his ice
blue eyes.
And so, young 'Steven' had been found, Dumbledore had come to collect his
spy...
Lucius knew the old man would eventually discover the consequences wrought
upon Severus when his traitorous deeds were brought to light; doddering old
fool Dumbledore may portray, his influence and powers reached as far and
wide as the Dark Lord's. He had hoped to have had Severus within his custody,
far from the Headmaster's grip, before the link had been made between the
Hogwarts' Potions Master and this fragile little boy. Now it would be all
the more awkward to snatch the boy from the old bat and his tribe of imbeciles
and deliver him to his rightful Master.
The Master would not be amused, especially since they had learned how gifted
Severus was...No doubt he would have to brace himself for punishment when
he delivered his report.
A cold smirk played across the severe face. No matter, Lucius was not too
worried. Unlike that pathetic coward Pettigrew, who had suggested they forcibly
abduct Severus from the Muggles and brutalize him into following the Dark
Lord, Malfoy understood all too well that children could not be bullied or
pressurised into loyalty. No, they needed to be moulded and influenced in
a careful process.
And although Dumbledore had Steven under his protection, Malfoy's seeds
of darkness had already been planted in the remnants of Severus Snape that
existed. The old fool would no doubt take the boy straight to Hogwarts in
a matter of days but Severus was still in easy reach for his tutelage. He
wondered what the boy would think when he learned of Dumbledore's betrayal
in his real childhood, how the old man had forsaken him in favour of that
idiot Black. A small child he was now, Severus had never accepted abandonment
well. He would surely turn from the Headmaster's tenderness and into the
Dark Lord's embrace.
And what an opportunity was being presented to his own heir apparent.
He laughed lightly. Draco always wanted a younger brother. Now was his son's
chance to both test his talents in pressing the Deatheater's beliefs and
draw Severus away from Dumbledore's do-good intentions.
They would have to be patient, wait for the boy to be brought to Hogwarts
and back into the waiting hands of the turned Slytherins. Dumbledore could
not watch over him forever, sooner or later Severus would learn of his true
path and in due time, Voldemort would have his chosen heir.
In due time...
End of CHAPTER TWO-Steven
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