5 YEARS LATER

I was in my mansion, looking over the new list of first years, praying that at least one of them possessed the talent for potion-making. I wasn't going to get my hopes up though; not one of my students really made me proud.

I was still living with the guilt about what had happened with Lily and James, even after it was old news. Everybody kept telling me not to worry about it and that the Dark Lord would've found them anyway. That it was better this way with little Harry Potter not even remembering them. They were only saying these things to me because they were glad it had not been them that screwed up and that they were glad it had been me.

I wanted nothing more to do with the Order. Anyone with brains could sense that the Dark Lord was still alive and biding his time and strength. All the Death Eaters were too cowardly to return to him and to seek him out because with Voldemort gone, they have the freedom they had not had for some time. They were the masters of their new homes and stupid families.

No one even stopped to think about the future.

But of course, there was one person who seemed to smart about this whole affair. One person who, it seemed, knew so much on the subject it was a wonder that no one suspected him of an alliance with the Dark Lord. But of course, that idea alone was absurd.

Albus Dumbledore, The-Only-One-He-Ever-Feared, be an ally with Lord Voldemort, the Dark Lord?

I laughed when the idea crossed my head. And I do not laugh often.

I wasn't laughing when Albus Dumbledore Apparated into my mansion, just feet from where I was sitting, contemplating on the list of new minds in front of me. He didn't have his usual smile and twinkle in his eye. He looked tired, distressed, even angry.

Albus Dumbledore knew how to play angry.

"Severus, we have a problem," he said hard, and seated himself in the easy chair in front of me.

"We, Headmaster," I snarled. I didn't appreciate anyone coming into my home uninvited.

"Yes Severus. You are the only one to help him."

"Him? With all due respect Albus, do not talk in your usual riddles right now," I said, hoping my tone suggested that I was patient. If he became annoyed at my words, he didn't let it on.

"Harry Potter. He would be what, five-years-old now?" Dumbledore asked me.

I merely shrugged. Harry Potter was the last person on my mind at the moment. I didn't want to ride that guilt trip again.

"I have just received word from Arabella Figg that he is being mistreated. And that has got to stop," he said, more fierce than I had ever heard him.

You'd almost think this little boy was special.

"Mistreated how exactly?" I asked him, all my attention now on him.

"Abused. Mostly by his uncle, but his aunt neglects him and rarely bothers to feed him. There are bruises all over his body, and even some broken bones that Vernon and Petunia refuse to let be treated by doctors." I wished I had been standing, for then I could back up from him because I was starting to become a little afraid of him.

"You're absolutely sure of this Headmaster?" I asked timidly, knowing what he would suggest next.

"I wouldn't come to you so desperate like this if I wasn't totally certain. Severus, I need you to do me one more favor. I know you are feeling guilty about Lily and James, and I understand that, but you must not blame yourself. I have no one else to come to; Arthur and Molly have their hands full with seven children, and nobody else is in any position to care for a child…"

"And what makes you so sure that I can? I have classes to manage, not to mention all…other duties…" I broke him off.

"I could've asked any other teacher, that's true, but you have the largest quarters at Hogwarts. You can easily manage to a little boy; you have the whole dungeon," Dumbledore explained, sounding much less angry and much more hopeful.

"I just can't care for a kid; I don't know how!" This whole idea was as much, if not more absurd than the whole thing about Dumbledore being on Voldemort's side.

"You'll get the hang of it. Any new parent can tell you they didn't know the first thing about caring for a kid, but they managed and their child turned out just fine. Severus, this is really important, and not really a no-answer," Dumbledore said as he gave me an encouraging smile.

I didn't return it. I couldn't even muster a look. What did he think he was doing, just appearing in my home and tell me I was to become an adopted father to a boy whose parents I was almost responsible to killing?

Oh would he owe me.

XXX

The little boy checked his cupboard door for the umpteenth time, hoping that maybe this time, it would open. He really needed some ice for his eye; it felt like with just one more blow that it would fall out.

His aunt, uncle, and cousin wouldn't even care. Since when did they ever?

They forbade him to do anything; he was lucky to go outside. His skin was turning whiter and whiter everyday for lack of sunlight. By the time he was six he might be the color of a ghost.

Every night he would lay down and pray for somebody to come down and take him away from this place. Sometimes he even dreamed that it happened. Every time it was a different person.

Sometimes it was a giant man who would take him in his arms and stand on his relatives as if they were ants. Other times it was a beautiful woman who would escape with him and she would make his relatives magically disappear.

It was a nice dream, but when he woke up the next morning, he would be in tears because it hadn't happened and he was still here, ready for another miserable day.

He lay down now, pretending that he was hearing angry yelling and footsteps that came his way made by somebody who he would come to realize as his rescuer. That the door to his cupboard would burst open and there would be somebody really nice, to scoop him up and point a wooden stick at his aunt, uncle, and cousin, telling them that he they tried to stop him from taking Harry, that he would hex them so bad they would be sprouting trees in places they'd rather not think about.

It wasn't until the next day, however, that he realized that this time it wasn't a dream. His dream had just turned to reality, and he was staring into the face of a long black haired man wearing black…robes?

A/N: Short I know, but it was just to get into the story. It will really start next chapter. Review!