A/N: here we go! This chapter is a little short, the next one will be longer. Enjoy and let me know what you thought!

Chapter 2: An Unexpected Home

Severus Snape was still asleep when Auror Moody entered his cell the next morning. The young man was on his side, the scarred side of his face lying against the thin pillow, hiding the disfigurement at first glimpse. Looking a little more closely, however, the atrophied right hand, that was clutching said pillow, came to view, and the edges of the scarring on his face were still visible.

Moody had closed the door behind him – it was the procedure after all – and stayed silent for a few minutes, observing the other man sleeping. He didn't look like a monster anymore. He looked like a human being who had been thrown against the hard walls of existence, repeatedly.

"Snape."

The prisoner jumped and immediately covered his head with his arms in the exact same gesture he had done the day before in the interrogation room. Moody wondered briefly if this was a result of the torture from the war, or something else that had happened during the two years the man had lived on the streets.

"You have ten minutes to wake up, use the toilet, and do whatever else you need to do. I will be back to fetch you for the rest of our chat. Alright?"

"Yes, sir."

The reply was a little shy and Moody didn't like the touch of fear he could hear in the voice. He nodded and exited the room.

It took three weeks. Three weeks of interrogation, investigation, and research, but in the end "Little Monster" turned out to be the big catch they had hoped for, only with a twist.

Severus Snape stayed quiet overall for three hours that second day, before he began to talk to Moody – only Moody. The Head of the Aurors Department was, of course, delighted to have a good excuse to delegate all of his usual paperwork to his team, and, moreover, for the whole time of the investigation. At first, it had seemed like their skinny suspect would never talk. He kept looking at Moody with a defiant glare that was quite an achievement from a sickly looking whelp like him. Moody had to exit the room three times to keep himself from shouting despite his burgeoning, and certainly reluctant, liking of Snape. What did the trick was a little question thrown in exasperation… and Moody would never be able to really understand why it had worked in his favour even years after the fact: 'What do you have to lose, lad?'. Snape had looked at him like deer in the headlights, until he shook his head in a seeming attempt to dissipate any remaining remorse he had been harboring, and then he had started to talk. Moody was the one to call for a break more than four hours later.

They learnt the whereabouts of the whole illegal potions organization – the Potions Gang as they took to calling it –, the nicknames of the leaders, where they could be found, who was dangerous, who had bodyguards, whose house was magically protected and how. Everything. Turned out Snape, despite clearly being at the very bottom of the food chain, and with only one remaining eye, had quite a gift of observation and deduction. Moody could finally see what Albus must have glimpsed in the young man a few years earlier: talent of a rare kind.

The arrests began the next week and didn't stop until the big fish, a certain Edgard Lemon, was finally caught three weeks in. It was the talk of the Ministry for months after that. Moody, among all the other things they needed, made sure to gather all the evidence possible on how Snape had been used. He always took some time to interrogate each and every suspect about "Little Monster", gathering extensive notes in the process. Said evidence, proving that Snape had been a victim in the whole sorry affair, was overwhelming. Little by little, the file grew into the picture of Snape's lost story, the missing part from St. Mungo's to the fateful Auror raid: a heart-wrenching patchwork that left Moody feeling a wave of protectiveness he couldn't control.

Apparently, Snape had been living off the streets for a little more than two weeks, when he was caught searching for food in some trash can behind one of the Potions Gang's meeting places. Someone saw him and decided that it would be a laugh to beat him for fun with the others… He was dragged inside and roughened up as entertainment, probably due to his disfigurement. They nicknamed him "Little Monster" that first day, not knowing that the Prophet had done something similar a year or so earlier. From what Moody could gather on the topic, Snape had been mostly used as an errand boy at first, mocked and abused, but given enough food and security to keep him going back. The way the bastards talked about him didn't leave much to the imagination about their treatment of him during their "association". Snape was so useful, however – he was smart and discreet – that, without anyone really realizing, he started to take charge of more and more high profile tasks; gathering so much critical information in plain sight, but never guarded upon – so powerful was his inconspicuousness. A big mistake now that the lad was in the position to reveal everything he knew. Moody made sure the file backing Snape up was as thick as the ones condemning all the scums they had caught thanks to him. He was a little taken aback himself over how strongly he felt about it all.

That's why, three weeks or so after having been dragged to the Ministry as a lowly dealer after a disastrous raid, Severus Snape was set free awaiting his trial. It was revealed later on that the Head of the Auror Department himself had vouched for him to the Wizengamot representative. An absolutely isolated occurrence.

Snape was in his cell when the approval to set him free reached Moody. The Auror immediately left the observation post, from where he was watching Savage leading a tough interrogation of one of the Potions Gang, and went straight to Snape's cell.

The man was sprawled on his narrow bed when Moody entered, but not asleep. Snape sat up upon Moody's entry and waited in silence while the Auror closed the door behind him – he didn't really need to, for once, but it was second nature at this point.

"I have news for you, Snape."

"What sort of news?"

"The relatively good sort."

The young man didn't reply to that, his face betraying only a slightly eager expression. Moody went on.

"The trial should be in three to four weeks – yours, that is – just the time for the clerks to put the administrative file together. Bureaucratic nonsense and all that." Moody made a vague gesture in the air with his left hand leaving no doubt about his thoughts on bureaucracy.

"Okay."

The resignation oozing from the man was not what Moody had expected.

"Don't you have questions, lad?"

"Not really."

"Think again," said Moody a little more vehemently, sensing his bad mood rising again, "You're put on trial, you should have questions."

Snape looked up at that and his remaining eye reduced into a menacing slit.

"It's not the first time, you know."

"Don't try to be smart with me," Moody growled, "I was there the last time… and the reason you don't remember it is because you, on the other hand, weren't. It's different now, you will be questioned – you need a lawyer, too – there will be work to be done on your side. You need to prepare."

"And please, do tell, Auror Moody, how am I to do that exactly? Do I look like someone who can afford a lawyer?"

Moody chose to let the little ironic inflection on the word "Auror" pass without comment; he raised an eyebrow, however.

"There are ways to get a free one. You're certainly eligible. You only need to ask. So, again: questions?"

Snape frowned at that, looking like he was mulling something over. Moody let him be for a few minutes. It had been quite an eventful three weeks in the young man's life, after all. The Auror tried to convince himself that he was being nice in return for all the information Snape had given him – most certainly advancing his career in the meantime with the arrest of the decade when it came to illegal substances trafficking. He knew, however, that he had, for some unknown reason, taken a liking to Snape since the beginning. Surely, he kept telling himself, it was only pity? One look at Snape was sure to invoke such a sentiment in anyone, among other things.

"How do I get one, then?" Snape asked suddenly, interrupting Moody's thoughts. "A lawyer, I mean?"

"I will give you the appropriate forms."

Snape nodded, looking worried again, all traces of defiance having vanished from his thin face.

Moody surprised himself again:

"You will get through, lad, don't worry. Your case is solid enough that I foresee that trial will most likely only be a formality." Moody didn't add that he knew how solid the case was since he had been responsible for compiling the file in the first place, he had a reputation to maintain after all, "You do need to prepare though; I will help you do that as long as you do your part."

"Ok…. I.. I mean, I will do it. My part."

"Good then."

"Auror Moody?"

"What is it now?" replied Moody, gruffly.

"Thank you." replied Snape, looking straight into Moody's eyes with an intensity that made the Auror clear his throat noisily. A little uncomfortable, Moody abruptly changed the subject:

"So, where do you plan to go in the meantime?"

Snape didn't answer. He seemed to be momentarily lost in another world, his gaze fixed on the wall and unseeing, it lasted just long enough for Moody to begin to worry and for him to repeat his question, a little too loudly. "Snape, where do you plan to go?"

The younger man came back to the present in an instant, apparently not having noticed his little moment of absence.

"What do you mean, sir?"

"Merlin's left sagging ball! I forgot." Moody could have slapped himself. He certainly should have led the conversation with the fact that the man in front of him was no longer a prisoner, surely that was the important news here. "You're free, lad. You don't have to wait in a cell for your trial. As long as you keep your profile low in the meantime, you're not detained anymore."

"Oh."

Snape didn't look pleased by that prospect; it took Moody by surprise again.

"Problem?"

"Not really, sir…", Moody waited a little, sure that this was not all that was, and sure enough, Snape added after a little while, "it's just… it's nice around here, that's all."

Moody looked at his informer with a piercing gaze, a little amazed.

"You're a strange man, Snape, you know that?"

"I've been told that a few times, yes." Snape smiled at Moody, an honest smile, but tainted with something that looked like sadness but that Moody couldn't quite place.

"Why are you so bothered by the loss of the Ministry's hospitality? You're not scared of retaliation, surely? Did you neglect to name someone? There's still time to come clean, you know."

Snape looked at him with a betrayed look on his face, one that shook Moody, who was not expecting that. There was even anger when the man replied:

"It's not that! Of course you wouldn't understand," Snape spat, before adding under his breath, "fucking priviledged prick!"

"Mind your tone, Snape, I'm not your buddy here," replied Moody, feeling his own temper rise in his chest. He could admit that he liked the lad but he didn't appreciate the tone all the same. What was that about?

They looked at each other, silently fuming, the tension in the room near the ceiling. Snape was the first one to deflate, as volatile as ever, lowering his head to fix the floor intently.

"I don't like being locked up, you know, I'm not a freak… Well, not that sort of freak anyway," the bitterness in that last remark made Moody's blood curdle in his veins, "what I like, though, is the bed, and the daily warm shower, even the awful food since it's regular and doing its job alright. And yes, I know how pathetic I am, I don't need a fucking Auror to explain it to me."

Moody looked at Snape. Really looked at him then. He couldn't help but feel like an idiot for not having thought of that… He remembered the emaciated figure who had been dragged to the Ministry that day, the way he looked sick – sicker than he did now anyway – and the smell. The awful smell of him.

Who wouldn't prefer a cell to whatever alternative Snape had come from?

Without any impulsion from his brain, Moody felt his mouth start moving and form words:

"I've got a spare room. You can stay in it then," he heard himself say, his gruff tone softened by something hidden beneath it that he couldn't yet admit to himself.

Snape jumped a little, then looked at him, disbelief written all over his broken face. Moody was not sure the other man was the most surprised of the two of them.