Severus:
He was scowling at the child and he knew it. The boy barely made eye contact with him, but each time he did he would flinch away after seeing the scowl. Severus knew it was unfair. It was Albus Dumbledore that he was angry with, though he couldn't help the way the boy made him feel. He had argued with the headmaster for what had felt like hours, the simpleton of a child barely registering what was going on. When he had left the headmasters office he had stormed down the corridors, telling himself that the quicker he moved, the more easily he could lose the child on his way. Thus, he didn't quite understand why he, himself, stopped at each corner turn to make sure the child was following him before continuing. Checking his watch, he noted it was coming on to 8pm and that it was likely nearing the child's bedtime.
"Once you are finished your tea, I shall show you to your room" the man decided, as he noted the eyelids growing increasingly heavier over the green eyes. The child had barely said a word to him, just stared at him with a studious but cautious expression on his face.
"My room?" the whelp asked, as if the very notion of a bedroom was unfathomable.
"Yes" he snapped back, glad to be in familiar territory "a room in which a bed is kept usually used for sleep". Severus watched as the child noticeably cringed though he could do nothing save roll his eyes at the response. Young children were too sensitive. It was why he struggled with the first years; their mouths so ready to turn into pouts, and their eyes to fill with tears, the inevitable sniff of their noses before their faces crumbled entirely.
"I know what a bedroom is" ah the Gryffindor bravado returns thought Severus, as he watched an indignant expression transform the child's face. It was perplexing. The child jumped between states of quivering fear and confident brat more quickly than a clock could change time. A stern raise of his eyebrow quickly had the bravado nipped in the bud, a meek expression now dominating the boys face as emerald eyes met onyx eyes.
Harry
Following Mr Snape was a difficult task. The man moved really quickly, his long legs giving him considerable advantage. When Perfessor Dumblyore had told him to follow Mr Snape, he had hesitated a moment. The Snape man had not sounded happy when he had been arguing with the old man. Lots of people assumed Harry Potter was not as smart as he actually was. While he was the tender age of 5, he prided himself on being able to read into adult behaviour a bit. In all honesty, it had begun as a means of self-preservation. If he could recognise the small signs of anger in his Uncle, he could usually remove himself to his cupboard before the man started lashing out. Thus, when the Headmaster and Potions Master had begun quarrelling, Harry pretended it wasn't about him, though he knew it was. It helped that he had a cream puff to distract himself with, and it stopped him fiddling with his hands in anxiety; which was something that annoyed Aunt Petunia.
Now, however, he was sat in Mr Snape's house. It had been strange to learn that the teachers at this castle all had houses inside the castle. Harry had never seen anyone living at a school, especially a castle school, and he wondered why Mrs Wilkinson would work at his boring old school when she could work here!
"How come Mrs Wilkinson don't work here?" the child couldn't help asking the question on his mind.
Who in the Devil is Mrs Wilkinson? the man thought in response, barely containing the exasperation he felt at the awful logic children seemed to possess. Refusing to entertain the child with a response, Severus Snape instead picked up todays issue of the Daily Prophet from the side table next to his armchair. He hoped if he ignored the child, he would take the hint and stop speaking to him.
"Mr Snape?" the child pushed, causing the older man to lift the prophet higher so as to block the possibility of making eye contact with the child.
When the man ignored him for the second time in a row, Harry ducked his head down. He knew it bothered adults when he asked too many questions, but how else was he supposed to know what was going on? So much had happened today, and nobody seemed to want to answer any of his questions about it. Still the young child reminded himself at least I don't have to stay with the Dursleys tonight. Not that Mr Snape's house felt anymore comforting. The man had all these jars on the shelves which contained some super disgusting looking things. Harry was sure there was a jar with an eyeball in it! He shuddered at the thought.
"Come along Potter" the man interrupted his thoughts, folding up his newspaper and standing. The man beckoned for Harry to follow him as he began walking down the corridor off the main room. Harry slung his worn-out backpack over his shoulder once more, following the man at a quick pace. Mr Snape reached out, holding the door to the bedroom open whilst he gestured Harry inside.
"Wow!" the child couldn't help himself. This was the most amazing room he had ever seen! On the far wall was a big window, which looked out into what Harry thought must be a lake. Fish swam passed and it made it seem like the whole room was underwater. On the right-hand wall was a sturdy looking iron bed, with an impressively thick looking mattress. Harry had never seen a room like it, green velvet draping's, a carpet his toes could sink into, and a huge wardrobe on his left. He flashed the older man a brilliant smile.
"Get your pyjamas on" the man spoke, gesturing towards the child's backpack, and refusing to acknowledge the expression of joy "then it's in to bed".
"My pyjamas?" the young boy responded in confusion. He didn't have any pyjamas. In fact, he didn't think he had ever had pyjamas. He just wore whatever t-shirt he didn't need to wear the next day. Sometimes, though he wouldn't tell Mr Snape, he had even worn the same t-shirt to bed and to school! But only when he was desperate.
"I thought I took a child with me today, not a parrot" he snapped back, now at his wits end. Ignoring the way it made the child flinch, Severus grabbed the backpack, roughly opening it up. "What is this?" he asked on discovering just two items in the boy's bag – a worn out, threadbare blanket, and a broken toy. Harry did not respond. A part of him wanted to grab his belongings back. What if Mr Snape tried to break them, or throw them away? Then again, the man did seem plenty angry and Harry did not want to add to that.
"Well" He snapped again, turning his full attention to the child and discarding the useless backpack on the bed. "I asked you a question and it would do you well to answer me" raising an expectant eyebrow.
"I-I" Harry stammered, not knowing what he ought to say. In fairness, he wasn't sure what Mr Snape wanted him to say about the items. They were the only things he owned, or at least that the Dursley's wouldn't miss.
"Spit it out!" he shouted, for he was now at breaking point. He had not felt such frustration in a long time, and while he knew the fault lay with Dumbledore and not the 5-year old before him, he could not contain his emotions. He needed a strong nightcap of fire whiskey. Severus Snape let out his longest sigh yet as he watched tears pool in the eyes of the child. He could feel a tightness in his chest that he hadn't felt in some time. Taking a seat on the edge of the child's bed, he waved him over with a crook of his finger.
"I'm sorry!" the child hedged, whilst swiping at his unshed tears, though he made no move to approach Mr Snape. The man was angry, and Harry was sure not to approach anyone when they were angry. However, when his hesitation resulted in the man repeating the gesture, Harry slowly shuffled towards him, knowing that disobeying would only make the man angrier. Just like how Uncle Vernon would get.
When the child was within reaching distance, Severus gently took the child by the arm and stood him in between his knees. He noticed that the boy seemed much smaller now, and he felt another slight crack in his chest at the evident fear on his face. "I am not angry with you" he spoke, trying his hardest to omit any presence of sternness, though to little success. The child kept his eyes fixed on his shoes, so that Severus was forced to speak to the top of the messy head.
Severus
"I am not sure what rules you were made to follow at your Aunts house" the man begun, a softer edge to his stern voice, though it remained stern all the same. "Here, you shall be expected to follow my rules". At this, green eyes flashed up through thick eyelashes, a silent recognition of the man's words. Severus Snape, however, was not a man to accept such a response and he continued "Is that understood?"
The small head bobbed up and down quickly, nodding his agreement. He would agree to pretty much any rules Mr Snape wanted to set him. He could cook, clean, garden, whatever the man needed.
"Then say so" the older man prompted sternly, raising an eyebrow in expectation.
"Yes Mr Snape" nodding again, as if to affirm his response.
"And I will not have you butchering my title with some Muggle prefix" the man added, with too many complicated words for Harry to follow. "I have told you my name is Professor Snape" he added "why you insist on calling me Mr is beyond me, but you will desist". Even Severus wasn't sure why he was being so picky with the boy. It was his face, too much James Potter. The eyes he could deal with, but that messy head was another story.
"Sorry M – I mean Perfessor Snape" the child stammered in response. He would have to remember that Mr Snape did not like being called a Mister. Harry had always been told that he should respect his elders, and should call them Mr or Miss, but apparently Mr Snape did not agree with them.
"Professor" the man corrected with emphasis. Yes, the child was five, but he could learn to refrain from completely destroying the English language. "Now, we will have to transfigure some pyjamas for you for tonight" the man continued "until we can purchase some of your own".
"Transfilar?" the child turned confused eyes towards the older man. What did that mean? Harry felt the man take a hold of his arm and move him to the side as the older man stood.
"Follow me" he spoke, ignoring the child parrot-like responses as he led them to his own bedroom. Harry lurked at the threshold to the room, arms loosely wrapped around his stomach as he watched the older man. The man was searching through his drawers for something, though Harry couldn't say what. "Come here" the man spoke, turning from the drawers to wave the boy over with a hand.
Harry hesitantly walked over to the man, pulling back in shock when the man gripped the hem of his t-shirt and pulled it off over his head. "Hey!" the child shouted in indignation as he pulled away from the man "I can change myself", he added with that same spark of courage in his eyes that interested Severus to no end. Such a jumpy child, yet so bold in other ways. Lacking patience by this time in the evening, Severus simply reached out and pulled the child back towards him, ignoring the boy's protests. He pulled the ridiculously oversized shirt over the child's head, noting that it reached the child's ankles.
"Be still" he muttered as he batted the child's hands away, withdrawing his wand and pointing it at the child.
"I'm sorry!" the child shouted, raising his hands up as if to demonstrate he was unarmed. Severus ignored the antics and instead began shrinking the oversized shirt, watching as it gradually began to fit the boy properly. Harry, by this point, had also turned his attention to the shrinking shirt, though he was less satisfied with it than Severus was. "I don't want to wear a dress" the boy pouted as Severus, now finished with shrinking the night shirt, popped the boy's trouser button open.
"It is not a dress, it is a night gown" the man responded, as if it were the most normal thing. In all fairness, many wizards wore nightgowns to bed, and it was a fairly modern muggle invention to wear trousers to bed. Severus thus had little qualms about leaving the pouting child in the nightgown, somewhat amused by the boy's antics.
"a gown is a dress" the boy muttered with a pout as Snape unceremoniously dumped him on the centre of his bed.
"Perhaps the next time you run away, you will remember to pack a pair of pyjamas and not just a tattered blanket and a broken toy" the man said briskly, before picking up the child's discarded clothes and placing them in the laundry basket. He made his way across the room, turned out the light, and left the room. Harry lay awake for some time.
Harry
It had been a while since the man had left his room. Harry had lain there for a while, reminiscing on the day's events, when he had heard a muffled conversation taking place. The muttering had gotten louder and quieter at different points, enough so that Harry could work out a woman's voice accompanied with Snape's voice. The boy strained to hear the muffled conversation, eventually throwing his covers off with a huff as he decided to listen at the door of his bedroom. The child pressed his left ear against the door, as he had done with his cupboard door on many an occasion.
"Be reasonable Severus" he heard the woman saying. She sounded quite stern too, and Harry wondered if this was Snape's wife.
"He's the spitting image Minerva" the man responded, and Harry noted that he sounded more tired than angry now. Maybe this Minerva woman knew how to make him stop being angry? Harry would have to ask her.
"So I have heard" the ladies voice responded "except for his eyes"
"Damn his eyes" Harry flinched against the door as the man snapped back his response. It was silent for some time, and Harry pressed his ear even more firmly against the door, straining to hear what was being said. He could not make out what words were being said and instead the words reached him as if being blocked by earmuffs. The excitement and anxiety of eavesdropping made Harry urgently need a wee! He often got this feeling when he was hiding or sneaking, and he cursed the fact that he would now have to leave his room.
Cautiously, Harry pulled open his bedroom door, peaking his head out to look towards the parlour where he knew Snape was sitting with his lady friend. Oh no the boy thought I didn't ask where the toilet was.
"- for his mother" he caught the last bit of the woman's sentence as he approached the parlour room, hesitating at the entrance. The woman trailed off as she noticed him standing, rather awkwardly, at the threshold. Minerva McGonagall could not help but smile at the child. He looked just like his Father, and while that vexed Severus to no end, Minerva was happy to see such a resemblance. She had been James Potters head of house, and she had developed a soft spot for the boy who lived to cause trouble. When he had been murdered, along with Lily, Minerva had felt it more so than she had with many of the other causalities of war.
"What is it Potter?" Snape asked, noting Minerva's emotion-filled expression at seeing the child. He was surprised when the child shuffled closer to him, shooting occasional glances at Minerva as if working out her next move.
"Can I use the toilet?" he whispered to the older man. Harry was polite enough to know that one should not discuss their toilet needs or habits in front of a lady. He had once asked Mrs Wilkinson if he could go for a wee at school, and she had patiently explained that he did not need to detail exactly what he had planned for his toilet ventures.
"May I" the older man corrected without second thought "and yes you may, it is the first door on your left" he added, gesturing towards a door on the hallway. "Straight to bed when you are finished" he added to the retreating form. Harry glanced back at the two adults as he left the room, meeting the kind-looking woman's eyes as he did.
"Goodnight Harry" she said softly as he left the room, noting the small smile she received in return.
Harry
As he perched himself on the toilet, Harry allowed himself to reflect on the short conversation he had overheard. He didn't understand how a woman he had never met before had known his name was Harry, but Mr Snape always called him Potter. He had told Mr Snape that his name was Harry, but Mr Snape had not believed him. Maybe the lady will tell him my real name the child thought as he washed his hands, before creeping back to his bedroom.
Harry didn't get into bed when he returned. There was something alluring about the depths of the water he could see from his window. Grabbing his threadbare blanket, Harry climbed up on the windowsill, content on perching there and watching the outside world. A small fish was swimming back and forth in front of the window, as if trying to gain his attentions. Harry, small child as he was, giggled at the little fish and played his own game back. As the fish swam by, he would quickly duck his head out of the way, giggling as the confused fish looked for the small boy.
"here fishy fishy" the boy spoke softly through the glass, mesmerised when the fish stopped to float directly in front of him. "I'm Harry" he continued, "what's your name?". The fish though, was unable to answer. At the silent response, the young boy continued "okay, nice to meet you Finley".
Severus
His meeting with Minerva had been a mixed bag. At first, he had wanted to shout at the woman for avoiding the task of collecting the child, then he had wanted to thank her after some useful advice she had imparted to him. In the end, he had felt somewhat more confident when she had stood up and taken her leave back to her own quarters. She had assured him that come tomorrow morning, he could drop the boy off with her for the morning so that he could get himself ready for the school year. As he waved a wand, vanishing the empty glasses they had used for their nightcaps, Severus also turned down the lights.
He had no intention of checking on the child. The brat had been sent to bed almost four hours ago now, and there was no reason why he should still be awake. However, as he walked towards his own room, passing the boy's door on the way, he was sure he could hear mutterings coming from within. Praying the child was not having some kind of nightmare, he quietly opened the door. Severus could not help the stern expression that guided his face as he saw the boy sitting on his windowsill.
"I see we will need to discuss following instructions tomorrow morning" the man spoke sternly, feeling slightly guilty when the shock of his presence caused the boy to jump in freight, tumbling from his perch on the window. Severus was met with silence as he looked down at the child, his blood once again boiling despite the work Minerva had done to assure him the child would not be a problem. Severus was far from a patient man, and after the evening he had experienced, his patience levels were considerably lower than normal. "Get back in bed" he spoke firmly to the small boy "If I catch you out of bed again before morning, you will be an exceedingly sorry little boy" he continued, pointing to the child's bed in a silent urge to obey.
Harry
He was warm when he woke up. It was usually quite cold in his cupboard at the Dursley's, on account of the fact that cupboards did not really need heating. However, Mr Snape's house was warm, and Harry wondered if Mr Snape had awoken really early to turn the heating on. Turning the heating on had been one of Harry's responsibilities. It would take a while for the house to warm up in the morning, so Harry was responsible for turning it on before he started on making breakfast. As he lay flat on his back staring at his ceiling, Harry wondered if he might have to do that here too. Maybe Mr Snape had just done it this morning because he would show Harry how to do it later.
Harry knew Severus was awake. He had heard the shower a little while ago, followed by the man's footsteps down the hall and towards the kitchen. The man had not come for him, and Harry was not sure if he was allowed to leave his room. He had thus remained laying in bed, staring up at the ceiling for a considerable amount of time. A knock on his door was his only warning before the door was quickly opened, revealing the man.
"While the Chosen One may well have slept his mornings away at his relatives, he will not do so here" snapped the dark-haired man. Harry noted that he looked madder than he had last night. His hair was wet, and his face was pulled into a tight frown.
Who's the chosen one? The child thought as he stood from his bed, pulling down his nightgown which was not a dress as he did so. Mr Snape appeared to get even angrier when he didn't say anything in response to the man.
"Would it please our golden boy to come for breakfast?" he continued, a sneer marking the dark features. Harry twisted his hands within each other nervously at the questioning. His stomach wanted breakfast, but he did not think the man was asking him in a nice way. It was like that time Aunt Petunia had offered him a pancake, which she had let him eat to his shock and surprise! Harry had thought perhaps she was feeling nice, but a few hours later he had gotten horribly sick and his Aunt had laughed at him. Tears pooled in his eyes at the memory, and the thought that perhaps Mr Snape would be just as mean to him as his relatives had been.
"Stop with your tears" came the stern command "there is absolutely no need for them" he added, though more for himself than the child. He knew he was a stern man, but really the child was being ridiculous at best. Crying over a few questions.
"Sorry" the child mumbled back, using the sleeves of his nightshirt to wipe away the unshed tears. However, Mr Snape had already turned away and began walking back towards the kitchen. Harry stood there confused. Had he just given up his one chance to eat breakfast? Now Mr Snape probably wouldn't ask him again until lunch; Harry's tummy grumbled in protest. The small boy quickly hit his stomach. He knew just the spot he needed to hit to make it stop grumbling and think it was full.
"Come, Potter!" the baritone voice came from the other room, causing the boy to quickly scurry out.
Severus
While he didn't like the boy, he did not particularly want to see him cry either. Other expressions he did not mind so much. The child's indignation and petulance could be amusing. But, to see tears form in her eyes upset him so. She did not deserve to see pain, or suffering, nor experience sadness. Each time he saw water pool in those eyes it reminded him of his worst memories. Taking a long sip from his morning coffee, the man called for the boy.
"Take a seat" he gestured to a chair placed on his right. The boy looked incredibly small, standing at the entrance to the room like an abandoned puppy, hands twisted together in anxiety. Remnants of tears remained in his eyes, a constant threat to Severus as he tried desperately to avoid eye contact with the boy. As the child shuffled over and pushed himself up, albeit with some struggle, into the chair, Severus quickly lifted his morning issue of the Daily Prophet to block the child out.
Harry swung his legs beneath his chair as he watched the older man. He tried to take in his surroundings without drawing too much attention to himself. He noted that Mr Snape had a plate in front of him with an English fry up on it. Harry had made many a fry ups in his time, though he had never been able to eat one. The boy nearly came tumbling off his chair in shock when a small wave of Mr Snape's hand had a smaller version of the fry up on a plate in front of Harry. Despite the steaming plate in front of him, Harry made no move to pick up his utensils nor eat any of the food. Aunt Petunia had done this before too. On one of Dudley's birthdays, all the kids had been sat around the table singing Happy Birthday. Kevin McAllister's mum had asked why Harry wasn't sitting with them, and Aunt Petunia had quickly forced him to do so. Thus, she had likewise been forced to plunk a slice of Birthday cake in front of him, so as to avoid suspicion among the other parents. However, when Harry had made a move to eat a bit of the cake, he had met his Aunts eyes where a dangerous glint had warned him against doing so. He thought this might be a similar thing.
"Is the food not to the high standards of our Hero?" the man asked, frustration evident in his voice as the child simply sat staring at the plate. He almost growled in frustration when the eyes pooled up with tears all over again. "Do not cry" he ground out through gritted teeth, wincing at his own tone and reminding himself he needed to be softer with the boy. Instead, he picked up the Daily Prophet again in hopes it would distract him from making the boy any more tearful than he already was. "Eat." The man said simply before hiding himself behind the paper once again.
Harry
Harry thought baked beans might be his favourite. He was too full to finish his sausage, and he realised he much preferred the yellow bit of the egg to the white bit.
"Thank you, Professor Snape," the child offered timidly as he set his own utensils on his plate just as he had seen the older man do. In response, Severus lowered his paper and gave the boy a small nod of acknowledgement before glancing down at the child's plate.
"Finish your milk" he added simply, waiting for the boy to pick up his glass before he returned his attention to his newspaper once again. Harry had seen lots of other children have milk for breakfast, even Dudley would have a glass or two before school. However, he had always just been given water. Not that he minded. In fact, a cold glass of water was one of the best luxuries on a hot summers day. Harry had to admit, he found the whole milk experience a bit strange. The liquid was thicker than water, and he felt it coat his throat as it went down. Still, Mr Snape had told him to finish it, and finish it he would.
"I have something quite serious to discuss with you today" the man spoke as soon as Harry had plunked his empty glass back down on the table. The boy turned questioning eyes to the man before he continued "as you are aware, this is a school" the man added, pausing as he anticipated the child's inevitable questioning. When he was met with silence, Severus continued "the students will be returning from their summer break this evening, and I have much prepare. Professor McGonagall will be here in fifteen minutes and you will spend your morning with her" he finished, glancing back at the child to make sure he had retained his attention.
"Okay" the child said simply, though inside he was bursting with questions. What time would the students arrive? How would they get here? Would they use that appabitions thing like he and Snape had done? And what about this Professor McGongall? Would she be nice?
"Go and get yourself dressed" the man interrupted his thoughts, "there are clean clothes waiting on your bed" the man added, knowing the house elves were likely to have scrambled together a very decent outfit for the small boy. There had been a buzz of excitement among the house elves as they had learnt of Harry Potter's presence in the castle.
"Thanks" the child returned as he hopped off towards his bedroom. He was a bit nervous about his day ahead, but so far things had been going okay. Harry thought if he just carried on as he had been, it would not be so bad. Stepping into his bedroom, he saw an outfit had been placed on his bed, all laid out properly for him.
Right the child thought I have to start with the shirt, which turned out to be more difficult than it looked. Mr Snape had given him a proper shirt to wear, not like the polo shirt he had to wear for school. That had only had three buttons at the top, but this shirt had buttons all the way down it. His tongue poked out between his teeth as he concentrated on making sure that all the buttons aligned to their corresponding holes. Once that was done, he turned his attention to the trousers. Much easier he thought as he noted they were like his normal school trousers; button and zip. What are those!? The child thought with horror as he spied the suspenders that were placed out. Ignoring them for the time being, the child pulled on his socks and quickly shoved his feet into his shoes. He was surprised at how nicely everything seemed to fit!
Severus
"Come along Potter" he called to the child, who was busy getting ready in his room. Minerva had come down a few minutes ago, at which point he had vented his frustrations about the child's constant emotional flittering; one minute happy, the next crying. The two adults continued to speak, mainly about the impending student arrival, as Harry came bounding into the room.
"Morning" the child smiled cheekily, but somewhat shyly, as both adults turned full attention to him.
