A/N: I got many comments on Timothy's haircolor. You'll all just have to wait and see. But it wasn't a mistake.

Tim's lip quivered.

Even after all the times his father had beaten him, every time he told him he was a freak, it hurt to see him sign the forms so eagerly. The forms that cast Timothy out of his life. Away with the freak.

He didn't look at his mother. Experience had taught him not to expect anything from her. Headmaster Potter looked grim, as did the dark man who had simply appeared in the corner.

When the Headmaster sent him upstairs with the dark man, he felt a bit insecure. In his room, he quickly started to get his few posessions together. The man handed him a bag.

"We have not been properly introduced yet," he intoned in a silky baritone, "I am Deputy Headmaster Severus Snape. I am the senior Potions Master at Hogwarts. Should that subject interest you and should you prove yourself capable, I will teach you in your sixth and seventh years."

"Yes, sir," Tim swallowed, "I am Timothy Dursley, but I expect you know that already…I mean…if you came to get me."

"Indeed I did. Put the things in the bag and I will shrink it. This must be quite confusing to you. I'm perhaps not the most suitable person, but if you have questions, you may feel free to ask."

"I…I have so many questions I'm not sure where to begin," Tim admitted, "I don't quite understand. How can there be a whole world of Wizards, a school even, if being a Wizard is unnatural, and freakish?"

"It is not," the dark man said vehemently, "it is not freakish. Your relatives are hopelessly misinformed, and I fear that dissuading them from their preconceived notions will be extremely difficult. Be assured, however, that you are in no way unnatural and freakish. The Wizarding world is well hidden from most Muggle – non magical people's – eyes. We will enter it shortly, and you will discover it holds many wonderful things."

Tim eyed the man closely. The man's face bespoke a not so wonderful life. Faint scars were visible on his skin. Deep lines, obviously from years of worry. Headmaster Potter, too, had a large scar on his forehead, and his face, too, showed signs of a less than easy life.

"Not everything is wonderful, though," he concluded.

The man's lips curled into what was almost an approving smile. "Very perceptive," he commented, "no, you are correct. Not everything is wonderful. While we can do things Muggles only dream of, the Wizarding world, like the Muggle world, is full of people. Magic doesn't kill people anymore than guns do; people kill people. Wars are not uniquely a Muggle favorite pastime."

"Good," Tim faced the man determinedly, "not that there is war. But I'm glad you told me. I rather know the whole truth." He felt a pang of sadness.

"But I wish my father could have pretended just a little bit…"

A hand laid itself on his shoulder and squeezed slightly before directing him to the stairs.

"I'm very sorry for you. I will not bother with common platitudes, because this is a hurt that is not soothed that easily. Headmaster Potter shall no doubt be able to help you, having been in a situation similar to yours. Now, Mr. Dursley, if you are ready…"

When they came downstairs, Tim saw his mother turn away, a card in her hand. Headmaster Potter and Professor Snape took his shoulders and Tim felt a very strange sensation.

And they weren't at his house anymore.

Instead, they stood before a small bar, apparently somewhere in London.

"The Leaky Cauldron," Headmaster Potter said, "Time to eat some lunch, Timothy, and explain a few things to you."

"Are you taking me to an orphanage?" Tim asked, a bit frightened.

He felt relieved when the Headmaster looked appalled and the grouchy looking Potions Master raised an eyebrow.

"Certainly not," he drawled, as the Headmaster seemed to be swallowing a lump in his throat, "it would be a disservice to you to first remove you from your relatives' care, without providing a reasonable alternative."

Tim cocked his head and eyed the Potions Master curiously. "You're not half as mean as you pretend to be, aren't you?"

Headmaster Potter snorted. "Hush, Tim, don't out him," he snickered.

The Potions Master very calmly and very deliberately cuffed him in the back of his head just as the waitress put down their stew. The respectable Headmaster took a nose-dive into it. Tim's eyes widened.

"This is the Wizarding World, Mr Dursley, or at least the entrance to it," Professor Snape began to explain. He stopped abruptly when both Timothy and the Headmaster winced at the name.

"This will not do, Harry. You can't flinch every time someone mentions the boy's last name."

"Just brings back memories," Tim heard the Headmaster mutter, and he remembered that this man had been raised by grandfather Vernon and grandmother Petunia. He suppressed a shudder.

"Am I….am I never to see my mother again? My brothers and sisters?"

The Headmaster shook his head. "Your mother knows how to contact you, I made sure of it. You can write her, too, from Hogwarts. For now, however, I will move you to the home of some people very dear to me. When I came to Hogwarts myself, I met my best friend Ron. You've seen him earlier. His parents were the kindest people you'll ever meet, and they sort of adopted me unofficially. There are many things about the Wizarding World you can learn from them, and Dad just adores all things Muggle, so I know he'll be trying to get you to explain computers. Their names are Molly and Arthur Weasley, and they live in the most amazing house you'll ever see."

Tim nodded. He was surprised he didn't feel more anxious or frightened. Truth be told, he didn't feel much at all. It still felt like a strange dream.

"When Hagrid came to get me from my aunt and uncle's house to go to Hogwarts, I hardly believed him," Professor Potter said softly, "the Wizarding World seemed strange, alien, wonderful and terrifying all at once. And you enter under much the same circumstances…"

"What circumstances, sir?" Timothy asked.

Troubled green eyes met his own blue ones. "I will tell you soon, Tim, but it is quite a long story, and you've had enough to deal with for today. We'll go to the Burrow first."

ssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssss

A little while later they stood in front of the strangest house Tim had ever seen. They had teleported – Apparated, the adult wizards called it – to Ottery St. Catchpole, from where they had walked up to a single house in the country.

It was large. And it couldn't possibly be standing. The building had clearly been expanded numerous times, in all directions. It appeared to be the size of a small mansion, but it was rather hard to tell.

In a yard, all kinds of various items lay scattered about – boots, bits and pieces of old machinery, a kite, a very outdated computer screen.

"Dad's home," said the Headmaster happily. Professor Snape sneered a bit.

"The…evidence…in the yard certainly suggests that," he commented, carefully touching a broken transmission from a car with the tip of his boot.

Tim dragged his feet a bit. He was feeling unsure of this new environment. It was strange, though, to see someone as old and awe-inspiring as the Headmaster of Hogwarts happy to go see his parents.

A woman rushed out of the house. She was clearly older than his companions, short and slightly on the plump side, with hair that had once been completely red but was now streaked with grey.

"Harry!" She proceeded to hug the stuffing out of the Headmaster, who merely panted slightly but returned the hug enthusiastically.

"Severus, dear, it's good to see you again," the woman then said, hugging the other Professor as well, and, to Tim's surprise, without getting hexed.

"And who is this?" the woman's formidable attention was turned to him, and Tim felt himself hide behind the Potions Masters billowing robes.

"This is Timothy Dursley, Mum. He received an invitation to start at Hogwarts in September."

A pregnant pause followed, and Tim had the strange feeling that his last name, combined with the fact that he would be going to a Magic school, told the woman everything she needed to know.

"I see. Well, dears, why don't you come in? Tea's ready and I just baked a fresh pie."

"No, thank you, Molly," Professor Snape replied, "Here are the boy's things. I must return to Hogwarts."

"Oh, do you have to, Severus?" the woman seemed disappointed. "I'll save a piece of the pie for you, then, and send it along with Harry," she finally decided, "you need some decent food."

Tim watched the Potions Master. The man appeared to be very cold and strict, but as he had discovered earlier on, half of that was an act. And now, a small smile was directed at the woman.

"I'd like that. Give my regards to Arthur."

With a curt nod, the Potions Master left.

"Won't you come in, dear?" Tim was bustled into the house, sat down at a huge kitchen table and given a large mug of tea.

He watched in awe when a cutting board appeared on the table, a pie floated towards it and a knife started cutting it, all on its own.

"Have some, dear, you look very pale and thin. Harry, you as well."

"Actually, Mum, I need to talk to you and Dad for a moment. Tim, are you going to be alright in here? Just sit there and try to eat as much of the pie as you can."

"Yes, Professor," Tim replied, taking a bite of the delicious pie. His eyes widened. "This is really good!" he quickly took another bite, trying not to gobble it down.

"Thank you, dear," the woman smiled.

As they disappeared behind a door, Tim ate his pie. Fragments of the conversation floated through to the kitchen.

"…my cousin's bastard son…raised by Petunia and Vernon…"

"Poor dear…all children moved out…"

"Muggle you say?"

The voices headed back towards the kitchen. Headmaster Potter's voice could now be heard clearly.

"He can't go back to them. And I do not want him to be thrown into the Wizarding World, and especially Hogwarts, as abruptly and without guidance as I was."

The door opened, and Headmaster Potter and the woman were now accompanied by a completely bald man.

"Ah, you must be Tim," the man said, smiling brightly, "I am Arthur Weasley, and this is my wife Molly. And of course, you've met our son Harry. Headmaster Potter to you, I believe."

"Molly and Arthur will become your temporary guardians, Tim," the Professor informed him, "you will stay here. They can help you get used to the Wizarding World."

Tim nodded. "I don't think I can go to Hogwarts, sir," he whispered.

"Why not?"

"I don't have money, and father will never pay for this…"

"I'll arrange that," the Headmaster said, "I'll sort out the money for tuition and school supplies, as well as an allowance."

"But…"

"No buts, Timothy," the darkhaired man said sternly, "We are family. It is not only my wish, but my duty to provide for you."

Tim suddenly found himself nearly nose to nose with the headmaster, looking into those intense green eyes.

"You are worth every single knut in my vault for the simple reason that you are who you are. You are a valuable boy, Tim, no matter what your father told you."

He shuddered. It had been so long since anyone told him he was important. He only vaguely remembered his mothers arms around him, before his first accident with magic. Not knowing how to react to kindness, he swallowed and asked the first thing that came to mind.

"Will I have to change my last name?"

The adults' eyes widened in surprise.

"Not if you don't want to. I don't think Severus will survive another Potter in school…and we're overcrowded with Weasley's already…"

Molly smiled.

"All that can wait, Tim," she said kindly, taking the boy's shoulder, "For now, you just stay here and get used to being in the Wizarding world. Come, I'll show you to your room and give you a bit of a tour of the place."

Harry sighed.

"There's more to it than just getting the child away from there, isn't there?"

Startled, having completely forgotten Arthur was still there, Harry nodded.

"Yes, Dad. It seems history is repeating itself…and I'm on Albus's side of the table this time…"

Arthur didn't quite understand his sons muttering, but patted his shoulder in sympathy before going back to his Muggle experiments.

Harry listened to the sounds of Molly preparing to mother and coddle her latest charge. Timothy was safe. Now all he had to do was explain the prophecy to the boy. The new Chosen One.

"Why couldn't Trelawny simply have lost her voice," he growled.