Severus Snape found himself caught between an amused snort and an annoyed sigh as the child stepped hesitantly into the parlour, the buttons to his new shirt eschew. The Sorting Feast would be commencing shortly, and he had asked the elves to source the boy a decent outfit to attend in. He hadn't, he now noted, advised them to source an outfit that he would be capable of dressing himself in.

"I can't do buttons" the child's timid voice spoke, green eyes flashing up briefly before returning to their spot on the hardwood floor.

"Perhaps you simply have not been afforded the opportunity to learn how to do buttons as you say?" he raised an eyebrow at the child in question, who refused to meet his eyes, clearly still feeling the childish self-pity of not succeeding at a task.

Harry wasn't sure if the man was being nice or not. His voice was sounding all stern and angry, but he hadn't shouted or threatened anything. In fact, the man had said something about him learning buttons, so maybe he would be helping to teach him.

Severus, on the other hand, was growing impatient with the child once more. Small tasks seemed to take hours, and always resulted in some outlandish display of childish emotion, usually tears. Taking the advice Minerva had given him into account, though he would never inform her of such a thing or risk her never-ending gloating, he counted one to ten and back again in his head.

"Come here" he finally spoke, after an extended sigh "allow me to assist you with your shirt" he added, in what could only be described as a soft tone of voice. Perhaps the counting had worked.

Shuffling over to the slightly dour looking man, Harry presented himself nervously. He fiddled his hands as the man reached out and began adjusting the buttons that were out of place. It was nice to have someone to fix his shirt buttons, he thought. Aunt Petunia never really noticed if his clothes were inside out or falling apart.

"Well there's one in the right place" the potions master uttered in genuine surprise. Thus far, not a single button had aligned with its corresponding hole correctly. Harry had somehow managed to misalign almost every button on the shirt. He felt that same strange pang in his heart as the child looked back at him with a coy smile. Even if it was just one button, clearly the boy welcomed the praise.

"Am I presenatable now?" he asked as the man stood from his crouched position, watching as he unhooked a cloak from a hook on the wall.

"Presentable" the man corrected, walking back over to the child with a small blue cloak in hand. It had been one of the many gifts the child had received from various members of faculty. This one had been from Pomona Sprout, advising him he would need it if he hoped to help out in the Gardens come winter. "The hallways carry a draft, so you will wear your cloak to the Great Hall" he continued as he crouched down once more to help the child put it on.

"Isn't this a sweet sight" a new voice entered, causing potions master and child to quickly turn to its source.

Severus rolled his eyes at her as she stood in the doorway, a smile of satisfaction on her face as she raised her own brow. "I was simply ensuring he didn't smother himself in it" he snapped at her. "If you'd seen the shirt buttons, you likely would have held the same fear" he continued sarcastically, immediately regretting his words when the child's eyes quickly threatened to overspill.

The eyes were almost too much to bear. They held a sense of betrayal, and Severus couldn't deny that the look was there because of him. He was not right for the child; confused him too much. One minute he was telling the boy not to worry so about his shirt buttons, and the next using him as a point of comic relief for his own discomfort.

"Well, let us not allow some shirt buttons to foul our moods" Minerva interjected smoothly, noticing the man's frown ever-increasing. "I advise you get a move on Severus, the students will be arriving soon" she spoke, before leaving the two alone and heading to the Great Hall.

An uncomfortable silence stretched between Severus and Harry once she had left, neither wishing to be the first to break it. Severus sighed, reminding himself that the child was five, and that it ought to be his responsibility to undertake the uncomfortable task. Kneeling down to be eye level with the child, he noticed that the tears which had earlier threatened to overspill, had made their way down his reddened cheeks.

"I apologise" the man spoke softly, breathing an internal sigh of relief as the child finally met his eyes. "I did not mean to take my anger out on you" he added "I was simply caught off guard".

"It's okay" he replied meekly, mouth still pinched and eyes glistening.

"It is not okay" Severus shook his head for emphasis. It was shameful to think that after the child's treatment at his relatives, he could not have exercised more sensitivity with him. And his own upbringing, difficult as it was, Severus was now unwilling to provide the boy with what he had hoped for from his own imaginary 'saviours'. "You dressed yourself quite well today, Harry" the man allowed himself to say the praise.

"You called me Harry" he smiled back, causing the usually grim potions master to almost smile, almost. Of all things, the child was happy that he had called him Harry.

"Is that not the name you kept insisting I use?" Severus answered, gesturing for the child to walk with him "Come along now, or we may miss the sorting".

"Will I get a sorting?" green eyes sparkled in excitement as the child bounced along next to the tall potion's professor. He quickly fell behind, staring in awe at the moving portraits that lined the corridors.

Severus paused in his strides, waiting for the child to catch up to him before he answered "No, that will happen when you are a student here". At this, he took hold of the child's hand. It was only to avoid stopping at three-minute intervals to allow the child to catch up with him. This way, he reminded himself, they would get to the feast on time.

"When's that gonna be?" Harry smiled up at the man as he took his hand. Two hand-holdings in two days! It was a record. Before moving to Professor Snape's house, Harry had never really held an adult's hand. Sometimes, on a school trip, they would have to buddy-up with another student so that they didn't get lost. And, since he was a freak that nobody wanted to play with, Harry would often be left holding Mrs Wilkinson's hand. He didn't mind so much, because she would always sneak him extra Werther's Originals sweets.

"Going to" the man corrected, glancing down at the child briefly "and it will be when you are eleven years old".

Harry pulled a face at that. Eleven?! "but that's ages away!" he said in indignation.

Severus raised an eyebrow at the developing confidence and comfortability of the child. This would help gauge where the child was at mathematically, he thought, as he asked, "how long away is it?"

The child looked up at him, almost confused. "I don't know", he answered. Shouldn't Professor Snape know how to do maths by now, the child thought. It didn't seem like the Professor was asking the right person for help. He was only five after all.

"Yes, you do." The potions master relented, knowing the child was capable of such a simple equation. Severus had noticed the child was hesitant to try, likely due to his Aunts berating whenever he failed at a task. Such a question, he hoped, would boost the boy's confidence ready for arriving in the hustle and bustle of the hall.

Harry was quiet for a while as he thought. Sparing a glance up at the stern man through thick eyelashes, "ummm, eleven take away 5, right?"

"Correct" he nodded in return, as they made their way up the stairs that would lead them to the Entrance Hall. Severus Snape did not often walk this slowly around the castle and was pleasantly surprised at the opportunity to stroll leisurely for a change.

Harry glanced up at the man, before quickly ducking his head back down. "I only know up to ten though" he spoke quietly, teeth nibbling at his lower lip in anxiety.

The professor placed a hand on the back of the child's head, urging him forward as he paused to stare at a particularly vibrant portrait, "well, eleven is only one more than ten" he responded. Harry picked up his pace a bit, sporadically pointing at paintings on the wall as the stern professor nodded back approvingly. "Try it out" the man urged, as the child glanced back at him with a small smile.

"So, ten take away five is five, yeah?" He asked cautiously, turning back towards the professor from the portrait he had skipped ahead to view.

"Well done" The man acknowledged in return. "You are not finished, however" he continued, as the child was once more distracted by the portraits who were eager to see the boy who lived in the Castle.

Harry thought this was probably the coolest place he had ever been. On Dudley's fourth birthday he had gone to Lego Land with his friends, and Harry had been forced to spend the day with Mrs Fig. When they had all come back, they had spoken about all the cool things they had seen and done. Right now, however, Harry was almost certain that wherever he was, was way better than silly old Lego Land could have been.

The sound of a throat clearing forced Harry's head to turn, green eyes meeting obsidian ones as he bit his lip "Umm so plus one?" he asked hesitantly "because its eleven not ten". There had been a time when Harry had been pretty good at Maths, but Aunt Petunia had called him a show-off brat when he had proudly declared that he could perform his six-times-tables. After that, he hadn't so much cared for the subject, and he was worried Mr Snape might call him something similar.

They were now approaching the Great Hall, and Professor Snape internally groaned as the excited whispers of returning students carried through the halls. Reaching down, he once again took hold of the child's hand, telling himself it was to ease the child's nerves rather than his own. "That's right", the man agreed, glancing down at the boy as they approached the hall.

"Six then" he nodded confidently, though the professor noted a glint of uncertainty in the child's eyes. He knew his answer was correct, but there was a glimmer of doubt that the older man could not explain.

"Good boy" came the unexpected praise, a coy smile gracing the boy's features. It warmed the usually dour man to see but left a discomfort that such small praise would warrant such a response. "When we go inside, there will be quite a few students" the man warned as they stopped outside the doors of the Great Hall.

At the child's uncertain nod, he entered the hall, noting the small hand tightening around his own. Immediately, the excited chatter died down as hundreds of pairs of eyes turned towards the back of the Hall. Professor Snape could almost feel the boy's tension, as his name was whispered in an orchestra of confusion and excitement.

"six years is a long time" the child whispered, returning to their previous conversation to avoid addressing the hundreds of eyes he felt staring at him.

"in some ways, yes" the professor responded, walking towards the Head Table. "It is your whole life so far, plus one" he added, noting that the Headmaster had left two adjacent chairs unoccupied and nodded his thanks. Without giving much thought, the man quickly lifted the child and placed him in his chair as he continued "however, for Headmaster Dumbledore, six years is likely not all that long".

"Because he's really old?" the child asked quietly, after his initial shock at being lifted off the ground without warning.

"yes, though don't say that to him" Professor Snape responded as he took his seat next to the child, filling the boy's goblet with milk. He was sure the child would enjoy pumpkin juice as much as the next magical child, but he would not deal with the inevitable sugar rush such a drink would produce.

"Ye had a look at the ceilin' there 'Arry" his latest friend enquired, pointing upwards and smiling as he took the vacant seat on the other side of the child.

Harry stared in awe at the hundreds of floating candles. He had never seen anything like it in his life! Stretching his head back as far his neck would allow, he could even see some of the ceiling behind him. His wonder was interrupted, however, when the potions master's hand lightly tapped the back of his head, silently telling him to sit up straight. The speed at which Harry returned his head to its centre space making him feel a little dizzy.

"It should not be long now" the potions professor spoke in a low tone, noticing the child's short attention span waning. Severus had dabbled with the idea of feeding the child an early dinner and leaving him to sleep through the feast, particularly with the day the boy had had. In fact, if it weren't for the headmaster's insistence that Harry be permitted to join them, he very well might have done just that.

"Welcome" the headmasters voice called, causing the loud conversations of students excitedly catching up after their long summer reprieve to gradually fall to silence. "To another year at Hogwarts" the man continued.

"Mr Snape?" a small voice whispered, and Severus turned his attention from the Headmaster to the boy. He didn't look away from the headmaster as he did, simply turning his ear to the child and leaning towards him.

"What is it Potter?" he whispered back, though his attention remained on the Headmaster, he also occasionally shot a glare towards the Slytherin table when muffled voices could be heard.

Harry, on the other hand, was watching the Gryffindor table with particular intrigue and excitement. His eyes had fallen on a ginger-haired boy, sat about halfway along the long table. As he stared, the ginger-haired boy had locked eyes with him, offering a cheeky grin at the child as he did. Harry almost waved at the boy in excitement, before the boy quickly placed a finger over his lips. Harry knew what such a sign meant. He needed to not bring attention to the boy.

Severus was no longer giving the child his attention and was fully engaged in the Headmasters speech. This year, it was very much the same as previous years, though Severus knew he had to at least pretend to listen to the Headmaster if he had any hope of telling his students to. Harry turned to look at the Headmaster too, attempting to mimic the professor in hopes of pleasing him. However, it was not long until all eyes in the hall drifted over to the Gryffindor table.

"If you see anything out of the ordinary – "the headmaster continued, seemingly oblivious to the ruckus playing out at the Gryffindor table. It was not unusual for the students to return in an excitable state, often not having seen each other over the few months they spent away from the school. Thus, it bothered him little that they returned with all the energy of Cornish pixies.

At that moment, a loud explosion came from the Gryffindor table, eliciting a few screams from surprised students and staff alike. Smoke shot up into the sky before breaking out into a stream of Gold and Red clouds, revealing the words 'Gryffindor's back'. Despite all the commotion and laughing coming from the table, Harry's eyes immediately sought out the ginger-haired child he had seen earlier. As if knowing the child was looking for him, the ginger-haired boy's face appeared through the streams of red-gold smoke, revealing a grin that Harry returned with equal vigour.

"I must thank our Gryffindor House" the headmaster coughed, once the staff members had quickly vanished the lingering smoke. "Unlike last year, we have managed to complete our annual surprise prior to the arrival of the First Years" he finished, giving the same ginger-haired boy a pointed look above his glasses. Severus, on the other hand, rolled his eyes as they zoned in on said child.

"Hufflepuff!" the hat declared loudly, causing the small girl to jump off her chair in freight. At the staff table, the smiling face of Pomona Sprout could be seen, while other Professors simply sighed. To the students, it did not hold any meaning, but the professors had just lost a sickle each for the first sorting being a Hufflepuff. Severus had been certain it would be a Slytherin this year, while Minerva was certain it would be a Gryffindor just as it had last year.

Harry was growing bored with the sorting so far. It had been fun when the other boy had set-off those cool colour clouds, but now things were feeling slow. "Mr Snape?" the child asked, a twinge of a whine to the voice.

"What is it, Potter?" he returned, turning his own face to the child as he grew bored with the ceremony. The child looked even more bored than Severus himself felt, and he did find himself feeling some sympathy for the child.

"Can I go an' see the kid tables?" hoping he might be able to find someone who would have that game he had played the other day with Perfessor Madonagal.

"May I" the man corrected softly, "and no you may not" came the answer as the child's green eyes drifted up to his own. "Once the sorting is complete, you will eat your dinner, and then you may see about meeting some of the students".

Harry had never seen so much food in his life. There were trays of roast potato, each kind of meat you could imagine, macaroni cheese, Yorkshire puddings, and huge jugs of gravy! It looked like the kind of meal a King might eat, and Harry knew he certainly was not a King.

Severus watched the child's expression change at a million times a minute. It had started with awe, before quickly transforming into a sad sort of hesitant expression. Still, he did not have the time to address it with the child at that moment. Instead he reached across to take the plate from in front of the child, ignoring the slight twitch the boy made at the movement. He began filling the plate, careful to ensure there was a balanced meal on it, vegetables and all.

"Would you care for some gravy?" the man asked, placing the now full plate in front of the child and looking at him expectantly.

Harry looked at the plate in horror. There was more food on the plate than he usually ate in a week, and it made him feel slightly queasy.

"Well?" the man pressed, not noticing the child's uneasy expression and losing patience with his lack of verbal response.

"What if I don't like it?" he asked back, looking sceptically at the huge plate of food that sat in front of him.

Severus sighed at this, quickly picking up the dessert spoon which he knew he would not be needing; he rarely dabbled in the deserts anyway. Instead, he carefully poured some gravy on to the spoon, before holding it out for the child to taste.

"mmm, that's good" Harry spoke, smiling at the man who quickly returned the spoon to its rightful place. He was somewhat surprised, but mostly disgusted at himself for essentially feeding the boy as if he were a young baby.

Severus simply hummed in response, pouring some gravy over the child's plate before turning his attention to the conversation taking place between Minerva and Albus.