Lost and found
Disclaimer: everything but the plot and Canan belong to the fabulous JK Rowling.
Chapter one: Out of Canan
Severus made arrangements with the Ministry of Magic to visit with the family and a date was set. He had orders to attend to regarding the start of the term and was given some time during the summer to mourn. He had potions to brew for the hospital ward and lessons to plan. After all was said and done, arrangements to meet with the family were set for the 20th of August at 7:30 pm. It left 10 days before the start of the term.
It was a rather cloudy, cool day for the time of year when he apparated to a Bettyhill in the far north of Scotland where he was set to make his way Lomley Lane. The residential area left little to be desired for a family, being within walking distance of the best schools in the district and situated around a picturesque pond with a fountain jetting water into the air and a gazebo to watch over the water with, wether one be supervising children who were cooling off in the warm summer months or ice skating during the winter. All 12 houses on the lane were very large and spacious brick constructions recently built but constructed to appear older and refined. The average size was 5 bedroom 4 bathroom and each home had a large yard both front and back. A pleasant breeze swayed the strategically placed trees that were placed in each expertly landscaped yard. The house he was headed to was the third house on the oval shaped street. It was a earthy toned brick house with a driveway that could fit up to 8 cars in the driveway with a brick walk way that lead to a patio area with lawn furniture arranged beside holly bushes and a nauseating amount of flowers. The planter boxes and shutters were what Severus could only describe as an obnoxious shade of pink and he doubted that the muggles who resided in such a disturbingly cheery dwelling place would be to his taste in company.
Probably the stereotypical nuclear family unit with a stay at home mom, a father who worked from 9 to 5 Monday through Friday and came home for lunch. Two kids. Not enough to be rabbits but not too few to fit in with the other neighborhood house wives, who were probably fashionably vegan and only ate organic produce and local meat, as the vegan part was either a fashion statement or the snooty ladies had little idea as to what vegan actually meant. As he knocked on the door two barking dogs could be heard as the door was opened to reveal what looked to be a normal, albeit large family home. Clearly folks of privilege.
What he saw inside was a bright family home with floral decoration and hard wood floors in the entry way of an open floor plan. Past the entry way was a living room with a large modern television situated inside a large wooden entertainment center with matching shelves that featured books and photographs. Below the television and shelves were cabinets that more than likely contained numerous films and toys for what looked to be the spoiled children. The kitchen had an island counter with a sitting room off to the side facing the back yard and plenty of space for the happy wife who enjoyed playing house to create hum drum meals that her husband claimed to love but the children were sure to complain about. The dining room was just past the entry way to the left of Severus with a wooden table that had a brightly colored rug beneath it. It was surrounded by 4 chairs and had a floral center piece and off to the side a china cabinet with china that was far too subdued to have been picked by the women whom he had little doubt was an air head not even Hufflepuff would take and more than likely was a keepsake from her mother. To the right and in front of him was a hall way that led to what he assumed were the master bed and bath and off to the side of it were two sets of stairs. The near most leading to the second story and the ones closest to the hall to the basement. Both sets of stairs were carpeted in the most obnoxious shade he could only liken to cranberry sauce. To his right situated behind the upward stair case was a sitting room with powder blue and white striped wall paper and white tiled floors. The theme of the room was clearly light houses, going by the blue upholstery on the seats and curtains, along with the beach themed accessories. Tacky yet something that could be found in a Martha Stewart magazine. Religious knick knacks were scattered about the place and hung on walls. It made the stiff man clad in black distinctly uncomfortable.
It reminded him of the muggle tale he heard growing up of Hantzel and Gretel. The overly sweet house that housed a witch waiting to cannibalize them. Except in this case it was a muggle and her "perfect little family" and the home wasn't made out of candy. These muggles did not seem to be happy to meet with him. None the less the father, a man who introduced himself as Elijah MacSwan gave him a firm and decidedly stiff hand shake, then introduced his wife, Camellia MacSwan. "You must be Severus Snape." He says condescendingly. "Indeed. It's a pleasure to meet you." He says, reining in the sarcasm in his voice. "I'm sure you have been notified as to the of the subject of my visit."
"Yes. And we wish to clear this up with you. We do not believe in witchcraft. The things our son is doing are demonic manifestations. We live our lives in accordance with the written word of God and adhere to strict Christian principle in raising our children. We will not be sending our son away to study and practice the occult. We will not endanger his soul to protect his physical body." Snape had to choke back laughter at his words. "We have been blessed with a daughter who has upheld our faith but we have been tried with our son. We will not fail what God has commanded of us. To rear our children in accordance with his word." He continued. Snape couldn't hold his tongue any longer.
"That's all very well Mr. MacSwan, however weather you believe in oxygen or not it's still real, as are witches and wizards. I have paperwork with me today from the ministry of magic that states that the child must come to Hogwarts, as his magic is a danger to himself and those around him. In neglecting his education it would endanger our way of life. If you do not agree I have one of your social workers on call to arrange the transfer of custody to the Ministry of Magic. Shall I phone her now?" He asks, not raising his tone with the man, but allowing his eyebrow to rise in a delicate arch. "Go ahead and call her. I'm sure she'll see that our parenting is sufficient and we're able to control our child." He challenges. "I see. What a wonderful job you've done so far. Please then, explain the accidental magic he performed this morning wherein he was unable to get off the ceiling." He says, unable to keep the sarcasm from his tone.
Snape proceeded to use magic to configure a phone and calls the women who said she would be there in 10 minuets. Afterword Severus steps outside to indulge in the muggle luxury of a smoke. It was then that he heard a noise coming from the back yard. Throwing the filter into the flower bed, which was sure to piss off the little trophy wife, he makes his way to the pack yard, past an obviously man made little pond with a waterfall and a second patio with yet more deck furniture and a grill, surrounded by plenty of flower bushes, and to the back corner of the yard where a child who looked to be around 9 was playing. His long black hair appeared to be neglected and was an long mass of wavy tangles and his skin was red from the sun. Clearly these two muggles cared more for their God than their child's skin. He was wearing a ratty grey tee shirt and a pair of black soccer shorts, both being too small, and were probably hand me downs from a neighbor, as the parents seemed as though they couldn't be bothered with the boy. His feet were bare and filthy, looking like the black pads on a dog's paw, and his shins were scraped.
On closer inspection he could see scrapes on his arms as well and that both sets of limbs were far on the scrawny side and his clothes were old. His arms had some bruises on them, and Severus suspected that there was probably physical abuse due to the perceived demonic activity. He would have to question him when they got to Hogwarts but now was not the time, nor was this the place. Instead he tries to speak to the child. "Hello." He says, but the child didn't look up from the bucket in the sand box he was playing with. He was stirring something around in a bucket with a stick and it made a sloshing noise. Severus recognized this past time as something he used to do. Playing potions.
"Are you having fun brewing something?" He asks, trying his best to establish himself as friendly to the child. He just nods up at him, a bit intimidated by the man in black. "Did you know that wizards make potions?" He asks the child. "My parents say there's no such thing." He says, throwing some sand and what looked to be a rotten tomato into the concoction. "Well than I must not exist. Yet here I stand before you." He drawls, and the kid can only grin at the sarcasm. Something his parents would consider unacceptable. "Who are you?" He asks as the social worker pulled into the driveway with the paperwork. "Severus Snape. I'm a potions teacher at Hogwarts school or Witchcraft and Wizardry. Where you'll be attending school on the first of September." He says. "And you are?" The child, no longer intimidated by the dark man, looks up at Snape and says, "Canan Sarlic MacSwan." He says, throwing a dead fish in the bucket and mashing it up with the stick. Severus had no desire to know where he found it and casts a charm to stop him from smelling it. "My mom says I'm not going to study devil worship." He informs him.
"Your mom has no choice in the matter. You can do things Canan. Things you can't explain. You need to learn how to control these things so that you won't hurt yourself or the people around you. Keeping you here would hurt you more." He says. The child nods his head. "When am I leaving?" He asks. "Considering your parents hostility, your need for school supplies, and to give you time to acclimate to the wizarding world I think it's best that we leave tonight and you tell me a little bit about yourself once we arrive back at the school. That is once you finish your potion of course." He says, looking in the bucket to see the mashed up rotten vegetables, the fish, dead leaves, worms, dirt, sand and grass.
"Please explain to me what this potion does." He says, not sure weather to be disgusted by or laugh at its unusual contents. "It stinks. Mom said I could go to bed without lunch or dinner. So I'm putting it under the porch attached to her room. Snape's heart went out to the child, remembering similar punishments from his father, and can't help but thinking about the possibility that this little one was a Slytherin, seeing his sense of self preservation and his clever plotting. He couldn't help but wonder if this child, who, while honest, yet was clearly guarding himself, was anything like his son would have been. They would be about the same age. As he ran off to exact his revenge before leaving Severus smiles sadly. His son would have without a doubt had black hair like this boy. Something he had probably gotten from Elijah, but with Camellia's rather expensive looking dye job with "natural looking blonde highlights" it was hard to tell wether her hair was dark as well. His hazel eyes bore similarity to hers though. When his son was born he had hazel eyes, but he knew they had probably would have darkened by now, had he been alive, and he likely would have had eyes more similar to his own than James' since a child's eyes usually became darker in the first 6 months.
When the child returns he says, "Let's go get your things. Then we'll be off." The two of them enter through the back door and ascend the stairs to the second story. Immediately to their right, a small hall shot off from the main walk way, which had an overview of the ground floor due to the fact one side had a railing while the other was dry wall that housed other rooms behind it. They pass two smaller doors in the hallway that sit on their left before going through the door at the end. The room behind the door was decorated simply compared to the rest of the house in muted neutral tones and void of headache inducing floral imagery. The only decorations on the walls were religious and appeared to have been placed there by his parents.
A twin bed had been pushed into one of the corners. The mattress sat atop a metal frame with a short head and foot board made of welded brass bars. It wasn't a modern or attractive piece of furniture, as it was of very simple design compared to most antiques. There was a single pillow and the linens were off white and unremarkable. The quilt on his bed was a patchwork of varying shades of brown with small patterns on each patch. The shades were ranging in varying degrees of warmth and darkness ranging from rust colored to sepia, and oak to walnut. It was tucked neatly under the mattress and the only thing that sat atop it was a small bear that had seen much love. Maybe Canan was a Hufflepuff, but after the potions display he doubted it. The walls were a neutral cream and the floor, though being oak, was scratched and unpolished, though scrubbed clean.
As his eyes scanned the room he saw a dresser that like the floor, was made of dark wood but hadn't seen polish in a long time. It was lighter than the floor, looking to be made of teak and it had one drawer that didn't fit into the slide quite right and was lopsided in its track. The mirror had black spots along the side from moisture and was probably old. The rocking chair in the corner of his room was facing the only window, which had moss drapery, and away from the door. The chair it's self was very old, no doubt by the craftsmanship, with a walnut frame and earthy floral upholstery, but had unsurprisingly fallen into neglect, as the little wife didn't see the value to the elegant antiques because her ascetics could only be described as simplistic with an obnoxious color scheme. Within reach of the rocking chair were a book case and an end table. The end table was little more than a three legged stool, but it served its purpose well with a big stack of books sitting on it and the book case was a rustic thing with tattered white paint and only reached Severus's waist, but there were a lot of books on the shelves and even stacked atop it with a lamp to give reading light.
They ranged from the classic bits of children's literature such as The Wind In The Willows and A Little Princess, to works of fantasy such as the works of Token and C.S Lewis, The Conicals of Narnia and The Screwtape letters being clear contributions from his parents. There were works that a 9 year old clearly couldn't understand but the child obviously hoped to, notably Mary Shelly's Frankenstein, The Necronomicon, and Bram Stoker's Dracula, along with horror books for children by R.L Stein and the Chillers series. There were copies of Scary Stories to Tell in the Dark, More Scary Stories to Tell in the Dark and Scary Stories 3 More Tales to Chill your Bones. The child clearly gravitated to darker fiction. He clearly spent much time in that chair in front of the window with a book, and possibly a blanket engrossed in a world of fantasy. Perhaps he was wrong. The child could be a Ravenclaw.
"Um what should I take with me Sir?" The child asks, tossing a pile of his books on his bed by his bear and a few items of clothing. "Bring with you the books you desire. I'm not setting an item limit as they can easily be made lighter with a feather weight charm. We'll be getting your uniform and books shortly, however if the rest of the clothing you own is in that state don't waste my time by packing it. It will do you well to put on some shoes, and to bring along the items you require for personal hygiene." After scrambling around and getting the required items, Severus charmed a small bag the closet to make it bottomless and filled it with the 9 year old's possessions, which included his whole book case and a few stuffed animals from the closet that he hadn't been allowed to keep on the bed. Perhaps a hidden Hufflepuff.
Severus' contemplation of Canan's house was made further complicated when he elected to trash his room and knock the pictures off the walls on his way out, and saying good bye to his parents by showing them his tongue and crossing his eyes. Perhaps he had been wrong about the other three houses and the little one belonged in the lion's den instead of the snake pit, the raven's nest or the badger's burrow.
squirrel talking: review or I'll walk around in a kilt without shaving my legs.
