Disclaimer: Not mine, though I really wish it was.

A/N: Applause for all my readers! I love all you guys!

This chapter will show some Harry and Snape interaction, some Remus and Dumbledore debating, as well as a couple of letters, and a scene I completely made up concerning a social worker. I've no idea how those types of situations are handled here in the States, let alone in Britain, so I made up something that I felt was plausible.

Chapter Fourteen: Nothing Further

"So… That's it, then?" Harry didn't bother to conceal his disappointment.

"I'm afraid so, cub," Remus ran a hand through his scraggly brown hair. "You've practically sucked all the information I have right out of me. Frankly, I must admit to being a bit astonished at how quickly you've learned all this. It's rather…" Remus trailed off.

"Rather what?"

"Intimidating." Remus chuckled. "It's frightening how well you retain information, Harry."

Harry snickered, "I've always been that way, Remus. I can't begin to tell you how hard it was to hold myself back when Dudley and I were attending the same school."

Remus cocked an eyebrow, "Holding back? Whatever for?"

"Surely you don't think the Dursleys would approve of me outshining Dudley in anything?" Harry shook his head, "After I started at Stonewall, and Dudley went to Smeltings, it was easier to just go ahead and work to my ability. They blamed it on the 'low standards of Stonewall' and the 'obviously biased teachers' at Smeltings."

Remus sighed and pushed his rising hatred of anything Dursley out of his mind. If Tonks and Dumbledore were correct, the entire family – Harry excluded, of course – would be served their just desserts soon. "In any case, it appears as though we will need to start bringing in outside help. I'm afraid the only areas I still have more for you would be defense and, if you're interested, some languages."

"Languages? I'm taking Latin at school."

"I know. However, I also know French and German; if you wanted to learn them, it wouldn't be a problem."

Harry grinned, "Sounds good to me. About this 'outside help,' who did you have in mind?"

"Likely professors from Hogwarts. Considering how quickly you learn, it wouldn't be that much of a hardship on either their time or patience. There's still a solid month before the school disperses for the holidays, so for now, I want you to focus on your potions studies. I'll see if I can convince Snape to spare a couple of hours a week, so you can get some practical work done, and if he thinks you're ready, we can get you signed up to sit for the OWLs the first week of January."

"Brilliant," was Harry's only reply.

The Saturday following the only quidditch match he'd ever watched, Harry found himself nervously pacing his room. This was going to be the first day of his tutelage under someone not Remus. Professor Snape was due to arrive at any moment.

A light knock at his door caused Harry to jump, startled, with his wand in hand, before realizing what was happening. He shook his head and stowed the wand away before answering the door. To his surprise, it was neither Jenn nor Remus, but the potions master, himself. "Professor."

The man nodded, peering past Harry. "Potter. Your… guardian told me you keep a copy of that program up here?"

Harry nodded, "I do. Come in." He stepped out of the way and stepped over to his desk. After turning the computer on, he turned back to Snape. "Wait here a moment, I'll be right back with another chair."

When Harry ducked out of the room, Snape took a few moments to examine his environs. He was pleased to find the room was almost obsessively neat; he wouldn't have to contend with the normal adolescent sloppiness in his lab. The easel in the corner, complete with a half-finished painting of a landscape, leant credence to his theory that the richly detailed forest gracing one wall had come from the same hand, presumably Potter's. That same easel was also the only area in the room where any sort of chaos presented itself, though Snape had no doubts that Potter knew precisely where each brush, jar, and tube was – rather like his personal rooms at Hogwarts. Though a far cry from his dungeons, he liked how the boy had managed to create the illusion of being outdoors. Closer inspection confirmed the illusion had been achieved through solely muggle means. Scanning the titles on the bookshelf revealed nothing of a frivolous nature. All-in-all, in the few, short minutes he was alone in the room, he felt satisfied with his assessment of Harry's personality. The boy was obviously a meticulous, well-ordered individual who knew who he was and what he liked and was comfortable with himself.

He returned to his place near the desk when he heard the boy returning. Harry smiled at his guest, "Thanks for waiting, sorry that took so long, the chair was buried at the back of the closet."

"Not an issue." Snape sat warily on the metal contraption. He motioned to the computer, only knowing what it was after having looked into Potter's prior claim concerning the muggle contraptions. "If you would?"

Harry grinned, "Of course." He double-clicked on the icon to start up the potions program. Note to self: We really need to come up with a name for this. I can't keep calling it 'the program' forever, especially if we can come up with other study aides.

Harry spent a few minutes explaining how to use the program and showing the professor how to use the touch-pad to control the cursor before relinquishing his chair to the man. Since the program was easy to use, Harry sat back and watched while Snape spent about half an hour scanning through the various aspects of it. When he was done familiarizing himself with it, the professor reached into a pocket and withdrew a scroll. "It seems adequate for simple brews, however, I must admit to being intrigued by the possibilities for more advanced work."

"What did you have in mind?" Harry asked.

Snape unrolled the scroll. "I've been working on some experimental potions… One in particular seems rather disinclined to further adjustment."

"What's the potion for?" Harry asked.

"It's a healing potion for sufferers of a particularly nasty curse," Snape replied, clicking on the 'What About This?' option.

It took him a few minutes to enter in the ingredients and processes he had finalized, then ran the program. A progress bar popped up with a heading that said 'Compiling results, one moment please.' "How long will this take?"

Harry shrugged, "I don't know. I'm not precisely qualified to try out experimental potions." Harry chuckled a bit. "Or any potions, for that matter."

The computer beeped, recapturing Snape's attention, "That is something, Potter, that I aim to correct in the near future…" he trailed off as he read the information on the screen. In the span of a few, short seconds it seemed as though the professor forgot Harry's presence. "Murtlap root… belladonna… inherent nature of regenerative magics… stable boil… addition of pulverized dragon scale… 80 percent success rate… possible increase to 95 percent with addition of phoenix tears." Snape snorted, "Phoenix tears. Right. I know but a single phoenix currently associating with wizardkind, and he doesn't exactly cry on command."

"Pardon, sir?"

Snape shook his head, pulling himself back to the present. "It's not important, Potter. From what I can see, the program appears to function properly. For the time being, I see no issue in you using it to study from."

Harry's smile threatened to crack his face. "Fantastic. And your professional opinion regarding the program?"

Severus thought for a moment before answering. "It would be most useful, however, there is the minor issue of this type of technology not working in magic-heavy areas. Most potions laboratories are excruciatingly warded, thus the ambient magic is much higher than normal."

"Thanks for the compliment, sir."

Snape quirked an eyebrow, "And what compliment was that?"

Harry chuckled, "That you badly want a copy of the program and are disappointed that you can't have one."

Harry's comment made Snape wonder, however briefly, if one's magical strength was directly proportionate to one's ability to read people. Had he not been the occlumens he was, he would have suspected the boy of legilimency. Once his mind jumped through that topic, though, he could see how someone could deduce the correct assumption. Instead of giving voice to any of these almost random thoughts, he indicated it was time for Harry's first potions practical. He followed the boy to the area in the garage that had been prepared for brewing, all the time musing on how much the spawn of his former enemy – still hated, en memoriam – had managed to surprise him.

November 19, 1997
Dear Harry,

Sorry I missed you on the thirteenth; Hermione said that Dumbledore needed to talk to you. We should reschedule for the last Hogsmeade weekend before Christmas hols. It'll be the second weekend in December. We all leave for the hols the following Wednesday.

So, what did you think of quidditch? Isn't it great? I wanted to strangle the ref, though, he couldn't spot a foul if his life depended on it! Not to mention he seems to think he's still refereeing professional matches. I mean, we're good, but we're not that good.

See you later,
Ron

November 20, 1997
Dear Harry,

What did the headmaster want to talk to you about? Was it your studies? Aren't you getting close to being able to test for your OWLs?

Oh, you asked about the Animagus transformation in your last letter, I was going to let you know about this book when you were here, but didn't get the chance. You want to get a copy of 'The Beast Within' by Thomas Volk. Professor McGonagall is a cat-animagus and said that it's the only decent guide out there. She also said to tell you if you needed assistance to let her know and she would be happy to answer any questions. I don't think she quite approves of Sirius. When I was talking with her, she seemed glad that he'd been freed, but she didn't seem to think he was an appropriate teacher.

Have you made any progress on your other idea? Personally, I would love to be able to bring my computer with me to school. It makes organizing notes so much easier! And if you can convince Jennifer to come up with some other programs… I can see scores of future students benefiting, particularly the muggle-born, like me.

Keep me informed and let me know if there's anything you need.
Hermione

November 20, 1997
Dear Ron,

Sorry to have missed you, I had to talk with Dumbledore.

Sounds like a plan. I'll see if either Remus or Sirius wants to go to the Three Broomsticks that weekend, if not, I'll see if I can come by myself. It's not like I've never been there before.

The quidditch game was… interesting. However, though I can see why others would be obsessed with the game, I just couldn't get into it. It seemed way too complicated and dangerous, though the flying part looked like fun. When I get through the OWL exams, I'm going to ask if either Sirius or Remus will show me how to fly. Speaking of which, is there a specific broom you would recommend? I don't want to buy one I'd get laughed at for flying, nor do I need one designed for that game.

Hopefully see you soon,
Harry

November 21, 1997
Dear Hermione,

Yes, I think I am getting close to OWL-level, at least, Remus says so. About Dumbledore… I don't think you really want to know.

Thanks for the book recommendation. I'll look into getting a copy as soon as possible. I take it you've already read it? Do you think you'll be trying it?

Not much progress on the magic-to-electricity conversion just yet. I'm still trying to puzzle out how to read the schematics you sent. What they have showing makes absolutely no sense. What's with the diagram with all the squiggles and dots? I have the feeling that's the key to this whole thing.

In any case, Ron and I were talking about meeting at the Three Broomsticks the weekend before your holiday vacation starts. Care to join us? I still have to double-check with Remus to make sure it'll be okay, but I don't think he'll have any problems with it. On a side-note, it's rather funny how Jennifer, Allen, and Remus all split 'parental' stuff over me. Jennifer handles anything related to my muggle school, Allen handles my work and other muggle whatnot, and Remus, by default, handles everything magical.

Just a thought, weren't you the one telling me to be careful with new ideas in the wizarding arena? Or did you want me to continue purely for your own selfish reasons?

Take care,
Harry

Remus sat in the headmaster's office, sipping tea. The full moon was that night, and, as Dumbledore had promised, he would be allowed use of the Shrieking Shack. The wolf within was nearly bouncing off the walls. He would get to run with Padfoot once again; the long-lost member of his pack was returned to him. Ignoring the inner glee and anticipation, Remus continued the conversation. "I'm shocked at how well he and Sna- Severus are getting along."

Dumbledore chuckled. "I'm not."

"And that doesn't surprise me one bit." Remus sipped his tea. "You always seem to know what's going on. It's like you've got an ethereal spy following everyone."

Dumbledore unwrapped a jawbreaker, "No, Remus. I just know how people are likely to act; merely one of the perks of having been around as long as I have."

"Care to enlighten a werewolf of not-so-many-years?"

"Certainly." He popped the sweet into his mouth, savoring the slightly sour flavor of green apple. "You are aware I spoke with Harry after the match last week. During that conversation, I believe I gained an accurate assessment of his personality, and it isn't so surprising that he and Severus would get along. They've both had somewhat similar childhoods. They're both a bit bitter over those experiences. They are both keenly intelligent and observant. It's really not so shocking, when you think about it."

Remus chuckled, "There is a difference, Albus, between the two. Several, in fact. Harry's a friendly chap that helps out whoever needs it; he smiles, laughs, and jokes. He's fun to be around. Severus, on the other hand, is a sarcastic, embittered man that hates everybody but his Slytherins."

Albus shook his head, a little sadly, "And what makes you so certain Harry wouldn't have been one of Severus' Slytherin students had he attended Hogwarts?"

Remus laughed out loud. "Come on, Albus! You can't be serious. Harry? A Slytherin? Maybe when pigs fly without magic and fish start spouting sonnets. He's about as far from Slytherin as I am. However, I will admit he's not likely a Gryffindor. He's too prone to thinking things through. After these last months, I'd say he's a Ravenclaw at heart. He loves learning too much not to be."

Albus, of course, had to argue the point, "And what of Miss Granger? She has a vast love of learning, as well, yet was sorted to Gryffindor."

Remus shrugged, "That just means her bravery is more powerful than her intelligence, which, now that I think of it, rather frightening, wouldn't you say?"

Dumbledore chortled. "It is at that, my friend. However, back to the topic at hand, though Harry has a love of learning, that doesn't preclude him from being Slytherin by nature."

Remus just smiled softly and shook his head. "I know many have called you senile, Albus, but I never believed them until now."

The headmaster laughed again. "And I fear we shall have to agree to disagree on this topic until such time as we can have the Sorting Hat sort this out."

Remus groaned at the blatant pun. "I reiterate what I said about senility, Albus. You sure it's not time to call in the men with the little white coats and butterfly nets?"

Albus twinkled as he unwrapped another jawbreaker. "Perhaps, my boy, perhaps."

November 24, 1997
Dear Ron and Hermione,

I talked with Jenn and Allen and Remus, and they said that if it was all right with your parents, you were invited to spend a week at our place over vacation. From Boxing Day until New Year's Day. Of course, if you already have plans for New Year's Eve, I won't mind.

Write back to let me know what they say. Remus said that the floo here should be connected by Christmas, at the latest. What is it about bureaucracy that drags an hour-long job out over eight weeks?

Hope to see you soon,
Harry

November 26, 1997
Dear Harry,

Of course we'd love to come, Ron's mum doesn't mind, so long as she gets a chance to talk to Jenn first. I'm sure my parents won't care, either. I don't know if they'll let me stay there overnight, but I can always apparate back and forth, if need be.

How's it coming with your little pet project? Making any headway? And how are your lessons with Professor Snape? (Ron's sitting here, shuddering at the thought of more classes with 'the greasy git' – his words, not mine.) Did you show him the program? What did he think? Will I get a chance to see it over break? Did you get all the bugs worked out? (And now Ron's wondering if there were any spiders involved. I'll talk to him about it later. Honestly! I told him he should have taken Muggle Studies.)

See you during break, even if I have to sneak out,
Hermione (& Ron)

P.S. Were we still meeting at the Three Broomsticks on the thirteenth? (What is with us and meeting on that day? Hopefully, it will go a bit smoother than last time.)

Nervously, Harry attempted to flatten his hair once again. He idly pondered shaving it, but decided that would hardly make him more presentable. He was meeting with Melissa Chambers from Social Services this afternoon. The lengthy investigation into the actions of all three Dursleys was almost complete. There was one final interview. Harry peered into the mirror and swallowed. His.

The night before, he had dug through the very back of his closet and removed the t-shirt, jeans, and trainers he had been wearing the day he left the Dursleys. Remus had finite'd the reparo charm on his old glasses. Remus had mentioned that the physical evidence of the items would likely come in handy, if this issue ever had to go before a judge, and Andie had confirmed it. He glanced at his alarm clock for what had to have been the ninetieth time in as many seconds. Chambers was due any moment. He tucked the glasses into the pocket of the worn-out jeans and wrapped the shirt and jeans around the pair of trainers. He tucked them under his arm, made sure his wand was secured in its holster, and apprehensively wandered towards the parlor.

Jenn threw him a sympathetic smile, as did Remus. Allen was, of course, at the shop. Sirius, as well, had been warned that Harry was going to be home, but busy today – and no, he didn't need any help, thankyouverymuch. Unfortunately, to Harry's way of thinking, neither of his two present 'parents' was going to be allowed to sit with him. Andie, as his legal council, was, though, and she should be arriving with the social worker.

A knock at the front door alerted everyone to the arrival of their guests. Jenn answered the door while Remus gave Harry a good-luck pat on the back and disappeared upstairs. Jennifer shortly reappeared, the tall, dark-haired figure of Andromeda Tonks following her closely, and a short length behind them, a chubby woman in her early thirties. She had mouse-brown hair, pulled up and held in place by a barrette, hazel eyes half-hidden by a pair of clunky tortoise-shell frames, and was wearing a navy blue suit. She smiled at Harry and offered her hand, "I'm Melissa Chambers, Mr. Potter. A pleasure to meet you."

Harry shook the woman's hand, struggling not to show any signs of how nervous he was, but failing miserably, as his voice croaked, "You, too."

Chambers laughed it off, "It's all right to be a little anxious, Mr. Potter. Frankly, I'd be worried if you weren't."

Her affirmation had the desired effect, and the majority of his tension bled away. He smiled, though it was still a touch edgy. "Call me Harry, please."

"Okay, Harry. You can call me Melissa, or Lissa for short."

"Please have a seat." He indicated the sofa with a nod of his head. Andie had already made herself comfortable in one of the armchairs, a yellow legal pad on her knee.

Melissa sat and pulled a thick stack of papers out of her briefcase and a pad of paper identical to Andie's. "Shall we get started?"

Harry nodded, "Soonest begun, soonest done." He claimed the other armchair as his own.

"Precisely." She flipped through the stack of computer print-outs. "Ah, here we go. Would you please explain, in your own words, your experiences growing up with the Dursley family?"

Harry cleared his throat and started his tale. Both of the women present took notes through the entire telling. "Well, when my parents died, I was left with the Dursleys – they are my only living blood relatives. I don't remember much about my life with them before I started school…" He told them about how he had been unaware of his own name, about how the only time he had been taken to see a doctor was when he had broken his arm at the hands of his cousin, about how he was expected to do all the chores while his cousin was allowed to do nothing more than pursue his own entertainments. He explained about how his bedroom for ten years had been the cupboard under the stairs, about how he had been expected to cook for the family from the age of six, about how, when it was reveled he needed glasses, he had been locked in his cupboard for a month, and how he was routinely denied meals as a punishment. He relayed tales of neglect and mental and verbal abuse and gifts of tissue and mangled coat hangars. He told of learning not to complain. He did confirm, though, that the only one to regularly hurt him physically was his cousin. He mentioned that his uncle seemed to abhor touching him at all, and he had only received the occasional slap from his aunt. On and on the tale went, until finally, throat creaking from over-use, Harry finished out with his 'escape' to the Kellermans' and how the Dursleys appeared not to have made a single gesture of locating him or otherwise contacting him.

When he fell silent, he flicked his gaze over the two women seated nearby. Andie was surreptitiously wiping at her eyes; Melissa was pale and had an angry set to her brows that disappeared when she looked up from her notes.

After a strained silence, Melissa put her things away. It took her two tries to get her own voice to work. "Thank you, Harry. You can be sure I will keep in touch."

Emotionally drained, Harry retreated to his room and his waiting paints.

A/N2: That seemed a good place to leave off for now. This particular update was a fluke. I hadn't expected this winfall of internet-access. Barring another fluke, the next update will likely be next week Thursday or Friday (the 29th or 30th.)

Review, oh Review, wherefore art thou Review? Deny thy nature and refuse thy apathy, or if thou wilt not, be but sworn, my love, and I'll no longer be a museless author!