Hey, thank you all for reviewing, it means a ton to me! Sorry it took me so long to get out this chapter, but with college apps due in a month I don't have much time. I promise that it won't be too long before my posting times are more regular :( As always, please read and review!

Oh, and someone pointed out that my html italics and such weren't working. Sorry about that, and I'm trying to fix the problem, I just can't find just where it's at yet :(

"The Dark Lord, or You-Know-Who, as he is often referred to, decided that wizard kind needed to go through a sort of 'purification' As you'll no doubt find when you go to school, there are certain families who wish to keep magical learning within all-magic families, or purebloods. They look down on witches and wizards born from muggle families, who are called 'mudbloods' by the prejudiced in uncivilized circles." Snape fairly spat the word 'mudblood' as though it gave him a rotten taste. "The Dark Lord was one of these wizards. But he took this hatred to the next level, killing muggle-born magic folk, muggles, and all those who stood in his way."

"Wait, said Harry suddenly. Snape glared at him for interrupting. "What's a muggle?"

"Ah," he said delicately, his mouth once again turning up into a faint sneer, "I forgot just how ignorant you are of the magical world for a second there. Muggles are people with no magical powers like your aunt and uncle. Anyway, The Dark Lord was killing many, many people with the help of a loyal group of followers know as the Death Eaters." Harry noticed as he rubbed his left forearm again unconsciously. "Together, they sought to dominate the wizarding community and to establish a new world order with the Dark Lord at the helm. He was damn near doing it too when he encountered a rather large hitch in his plan.

"See, your parents didn't die in a car crash, they were murdered by the Dark Lord. But the hitch in his plan was that when he turned his wand on you, for some reason he couldn't kill you." Harry sat in shock, hardly able to soak in all this new information at once. "Rather," Snape continued, "the curse rebounded upon the Dark Lord, vanquishing him until he is strong enough to return."

Harry couldn't speak, and so simply stared at Snape, looking as though he was trying to find a flaw in his story. Snape, for his part was still trying to figure out how much to tell the boy. He made a quick decision to not inform Harry that he was famous. He'd learn that soon enough.

"Me? He tried to kill me? But why? My parents weren't moggles, I mean muggles," Harry said, horrified.

Snape shifted slightly uncomfortably in his seat, a movement that went unnoticed by a still stricken Harry. Choosing his words carefully, the man said, "Only a chosen few could tell us that." Harry looked as though he was going to ask just who those people were, but Snape headed him off in a voice that put an end to any protest Harry might have had. "We'll talk more tomorrow. Now go to bed."

Harry looked at him with disappointment etched in every feature of his face. "Yes, sir," he said resignedly as he got up from his seat and headed towards the doorway to the sitting room. But just before he got there he stopped and turned to face his host. "Thanks a ton for fixing my eye and glasses," he said quickly, but with meaning. Then he was gone.

Snape still sat in his seat at the breakfast table, looking at the spot where the boy had just exited and massaging his left forearm with increased vigor. There was no way he was going to tell that young boy with the face of his old rival why the Dark Lord chose him as a target. At least not yet, he supposed Potter would find out eventually. And when he did, he would hate Snape with all his being. Snape was not worried about that, in fact his feelings on the subject were quite the contrary. If the boy hated him, perhaps they'd never have to stay in the same house again…happy thought indeed.

He got up and scooped his now cooked meal onto a plate and ate with haste before turning into bed. He may resent the boy magnificently, but he had to give him answers. The boy was stubborn, just like his father, and the sooner Snape talked, the sooner Potter would leave him alone.

As Snape climbed under the musty sheets in his well-worn bed, his mind was, for was seemed like the millionth time since the boy had entered the house, filled with the image of two bright, green, curious eyes.

The next morning, when Harry went down for breakfast he was not greeted with the normal sight of his plate sitting on the table of an empty room. Rather, Snape was already sitting there, eyes rapidly taking in a rather curious newspaper. As he got close he saw that everyone in the pictures was moving; some were smiling and waving up at him, one was giving a powerful political speech, and there was even one woman crying in agony.

"They move!" Harry blurted out before he found his composure and realized he was in the magical world.

"Groundbreaking observation, Potter, Very good," Snape drawled. "Yes, they move." He pulled his newspaper up and shook it out so that Harry could no longer see his face.

Harry sat down opposite him and started digging into a selection of poached eggs and ham. He couldn't help but stare at the back of the newspaper in front of him. The stories contained many words that Harry had never seen before: apparition, galleons, Azkaban, and floo being the first to catch his eye. The front page headline screamed out in continually scrolling letters, "Ministry Seeks Tighter Enforcement of Magical Travel Violations." Next to it was a man with a blurred face who was riding what looked like a magic carpet.

Harry knew from years of living with Uncle Vernon that a man didn't like to be disturbed while reading his paper, and he figured Snape might be even harsher in his rebuke, so he waited until the man laid down his paper momentarily before asking the question that was biting his tongue. There's a ministry? Of magic?" Harry blurted out.

Snape raised an eyebrow. "Yes, although at times I wonder if we might be better off without one."

"What do they do at the ministry?" Harry asked, his excitement mounting.

"Nearly everything that keeps the magical world under control. Their most important job, however is upholding the Statute of Secrecy that keeps the muggle population of getting wind of our world. They do other things of course, but in my opinion it's all rather useless. Magic cannot really be contained if there's someone out there who truly wants to use it." Snap flipped his newspaper up again quite haughtily and Harry knew their conversations was over.

Harry cleared off his plate and headed back up the stairs to get dressed. He was getting supremely bored staying in the house with nobody to talk to , and decided that he would explore the neighborhood a bit.

When he was ready, Harry snuck back downstairs as quietly as he could and pushed open the front door slowly so as not to alert Snape to his movements. He wasn't sure if he was allowed out of the house and didn't like to think of what the consequences might be if he wasn't.

Back in his potions room, Snape hear one of his intruder alarms go off. Looking into the misty globe sitting on the counter behind him, he saw Potter's dark figure exiting the house. Although Snape was happy to have the place to himself for a few hours, he was not ignorant of the danger of allowing Harry Potter to roam the streets alone and unprotected so far away from his relatives' house. Dumbledore would never forgive him if something happened to precious Potter.

There was only one thing to do. He emptied one of his cauldrons in which one of his experiments had failed to produce the desired results and filled it with a flick of his wand with fresh, cool water. "Acto revelio, Harry James Potter," he muttered, making a complicated swishing movement over the surface of the water. Instantly an image appeared in the cauldron, a sort of bird's eye view of the dark-haired boy as he slipped beyond the picket fence and started down Spinner's End. Most witches and wizards had protective charms placed over themselves so that no person could spy on them so easily, but as Potter had just entered the magical world he would have no such armour.

Snape turned back to his current concoction, knowing his Actus Revelius spelled potion would alert him to any trouble his ward might get into.

Outside, Harry was trundling down the street taking in all he couldn't from his bedroom window, or didn't on the night he arrived on the Knight Bus. His impressions, however, didn't change. He still found the street shabby and slightly depressing. He wondered if any other magical people lived in the area. It didn't appear so, as he saw several inhabitants in their front yards completing tasks in a thoroughly non-magical way. Some of them stared as he went by, but most of them went back to their work after only a glance. He apparently fit in extremely well in his well-worn clothes.

"Hey!" he heard a voice all from somewhere to his left. Harry looked and saw a boy roughly his age squeezing out from behind two grossly overgrown bushes. He was wearing jeans there were rather too short and showed his dirty, striped, yellow socks underneath. His shirt, however, was overlarge and his hair looked as though it hadn't been combed for weeks. Cuts and scratches covered his face and arms. "What's your name? I never seen you 'round here before."

"Harry. Harry Potter," said Harry rather surprised. "Yours?"

"Nat Wallace," said the boy still looking inquisitively at Harry. "Did you jus' move here? I didn't know anyone'd moved into the neighborhood recently."

"Oh no, I'm just here for the summer. I'm staying just there," he said, pointing back to Snape's house.

Nat wrinkled his nose in apparent dislike. "You're staying with that Snape man, then?"

"You know him?" asked Harry, a bit amazed.

"Of course, everyone 'round here knows 'em. Well, not personally of course. He never comes out of his house, don't he?"

"Really?" Harry questioned, curious to hear an outsiders perspective of his temporary guardian. "I wouldn't know. I've only met him a couple weeks ago, and he doesn't talk to me much."

"Oh yeah," he boy continued, obviously eager to talk on this subject. "He's lived here for ages, apparently. Ever since he was a little boy, I'm told. My parents remember growin' up with 'em around, see? Said he was never really friendly with the neighborhood kids, then up and left to go to some school. He's known around here as something of a freak. Hardly ever gets outta the house (when he's even there), and used to have a lot of freaky friends come by in masks and all." Then the boy's voice dropped low as though he though someone might overhear them; "I've heard he's got fangs for teeth an' bright red eyes, or at least that's what the kids who've seen 'em say."

Harry chuckled, "No, he's not. But he is always wearing black and his skin's about as pale as a vampire's."

"So why'd you come t' live with 'em, eh?"

"I don't really know," said Harry, half truthfully.

"Well, that's weird," said Nat, twirling a bit of dirty hair around one ear. "But I guess as long as you're here we ought to be friends. All the rest o' the kids've gone for the summer so it's jus' us two. C'mon, I'll show you the river!" He grabbed Harry's hand and dragged him off down the street away from Snape's home.

When they reached the embankment, Nat plopped down in the grass and laid back, head resting on his hands. Harry did the same and gazed out on the small river ruching past them.

"So where d'ya come from?" Nat asked, looking into space.

"Surrey, but I don't much like it there. I live with my aunt and uncle because my parents are dead, but they don't like me too much. It was pretty much a relief to learn I was coming here for the summer."

"Here?" said Nat resentfully. "This place is a Hell-hole if ever I saw one. Any place is better than this." He chucked a rock beside him into the churning currents.

"It could be worse," murmured Harry so that Nat could barely hear him. If not for Spinner's End he would still be an underfed punching bag for Dudley's gang, complete with broken glasses and a blackened eye (not to mention the other numerous injuries they could have inflicted since then). No, he was better off here being ignored and hated by his host than he ever would have been back at Number 4.

"So what is it you've got 'ere that you didn't back in Surrey?"

"A friend," Harry said simply. And it was the truth. Everyone back at home was too scared of Dudley's gang to get near him, and he told Nat so.

"Ugh, that's bloody awful!" Nat said, wrinkling his nose. "We don't really have none of that 'round here, y'know? No bullies or none of it. On this street, everyone's just trying to make a decent life, there's no time for real comforts and no kid's ever spoiled." He flicked his thumb ruefully, as though wishing he had a coin to flip.

The two boys passed the rest of the day fairly happily. Nat fetched a slightly flat football from his house and they took turns taking shots on each other in front of a makeshift goal.

Snape watched all this in the spelled cauldron water in his house. Seeing Potter interact with this muggle boy worried him a bit. The boy would soon be starting to develop his powers more fully, especially in the presence of a full-grown wizard. It was inevitable that he would perform magic, whether intentional or not in front of the muggle. I will deal with that when it comes,Snape told himself. If he is anything like his dunderhead father, the boy will not start controlling his magic until he gets to school. But deep down, Snape knew this wouldn't be the case. Ever since Dumbledore had showed him the rest of the prophecy which stated that this boy would have powers the Dark Lord knew not, Snape had been on the look out for any extraordinary ability. He hadn't seen any so far, but perhaps it was only a matter of time…

Snape knew that the smart thing to do would have been to break off the friendship early, not let Potter get too attached. But a voice nagged him, saying that it would be unbearable to live in the same house as a boy who was being forced apart from the only friend he had in this new place (he of course didn't know that Harry was friendless at Privet Drive as well).

i Best to let events unfold and deal with the consequences then. After all, how much trouble could the Potter boy get in at so young an age/i

About six o'clock that night, Harry squeezed through the front door, trying to not be noticed. He went upstairs, showered, and got into his change of clothes before going down to dinner. Snape was already there eating, but if he knew of Harry's outing that day he said nothing about it when Harry sat down across from him. In fact, they sat the whole meal in silence, neither one of them willing to discuss what they had done that day with one another. That was something that family or close friends did, and Harry and Snape certainly weren't either.

This routine continued for a couple of weeks, but the end of which Harry was more confused than ever about his host. He was starting to remind Harry of the Dursleys and how they sometimes tried to ignore him completely whenever he was in the room.

However, Harry didn't dwell too much on it. After all, he had a friend for the first time he could ever remember. He and Nat spent everyday from the morning 'till evening tramping around the street and the surrounding area. Not too far away was a rather large, wooded thicket with trees good for climbing.

It was on one of these climbing expeditions that Harry had his first real accident. He and Nat had been on a limb fairly high off the ground playing Tarzan when Harry's fingers slipped on the branch and he fell with a sickening crash to the ground. "Ahhh!" he cried as he felt his ankle give a great 'crack!'

"Harry!" Nat yelled, as he scrambled down the tree as quickly as he could. "Are you alright?"

"I think my ankle's broken," Harry said shakily, pulling his leg out from under his body. His ankle was indeed cocked at an odd angle and throbbed magnificently.

"Geez….here," Nat grabbed Harry just below his shoulder and hoisted him up. "You'll need to lean on me until we can get back to my house. It's closer."

"No, take me back to Snape's," Harry gasped out of the pain of putting a bit of weight on his left foot. He leaned heavily on his friend's shoulder, but he still didn't think he could get all the way down the hill and back to his house. It was just too far and his ankle hurt too badly. He took a few tentative steps, but they weren't any better than the first, and he had to call for his friend to stop.

"Nat," Harry wheezed after a particularly painful throb in his ankle. "Go down and get Snape for me. I'm not going to be able to make it, even with your help."

"Sure, anything," the boy said, and after making sure Harry was seated comfortably on a tree root, took off at a spring towards Spinner's End.

Harry was alone now. He could hear every fluttering leaf and every bird chirp. He was just starting to relax into the landscape when he heard a loud 'crack' behind him as though someone had just stepped on a rather crunchy branch.

Harry jerked around quickly, he had never seen anyone in these woods before and wasn't eager to meet anyone now in his handicapped state. Unfortunately, his view was obstructed by the tree trunk, so he was left to wait and wonder who the stranger was as the footsteps drew nearer at an alarmingly fast rate.

They were right behind him when he heard a familiar voice. "Potter," said Snape's harsh sneer. Harry looked up and saw the sallow face looking down at him with an unreadable expression. "Hold on," he said roughly before shocking Harry by picking him up in his arms. He was surprisingly powerful for how lean he was.

Then, with even greater surprise, Harry felt his eyes go black and his body squeeze through a very narrow, very thick tube. It was a most unpleasant sensation, but just as Harry was feeling as though he might faint, the sensation vanished, and Harry was able to see again.

The landscape before his eyes, however, was not the forest he had been in only a few moments before. Rather, as Harry realized with a gasp, they were in Snape's back garden.

"Woah! How did we…?" Harry trailed off, silenced by one withering look from Snape.

"Wait two minutes, will you, Potter?" he said in a bored voice. He carried Harry inside and sat him down in one of the kitchen chairs when they both heard a knock on the front door and the faint call of, "Mr. Snape?"

"That's my friend, Nat!" Harry realized with a jolt. "I sent him down here to get you!"

Without a word, Snape swept out of the kitchen and went to open the front door. Harry was just able to see Nat through the crack in the door. "Yes?" Snape said to the cowering boy outside.

"M-Mr. Snape. It's Harry, he's…he's hurt."

"Stop stuttering, boy. I already know."

"Y-you do? How?"

"No matter to you. Obliviate!" Harry saw a brilliant flash of light and Nat stood very still, his eyes slightly glazed. "Now go home and read a book or something." He shut the door in the dazed boy's face and swept back to the kitchen.

"What did you do to him?" Harry asked, the pain in his leg temporarily forgotten until it gave a rather stunning bolt through his leg.

"Wiped his memory," Snape growled, kneeling down to get a better look at the damage. "You must not talk to him about this incident ever again."

"Yessir."

"Now, what to do with this," Snape muttered to himself under his breath. He stood up suddenly and went to a cupboard where he grabbed a ceramic jar and pulled it from the shelf. He opened it and took a handful of powder, some of which leaked from between his fingers. Snape stepped over to a small, dilapidated fireplace in the corner of the room that Harry had never noticed before and threw the powder in it with great force. "The Hospital Wing, Hogwarts," he said loudly and deliberately. He got on his knees and thrust his head into the grate just as green flames erupted and consumed it.

Harry couldn't help but give a soft scream of terror, but settled down when he reminded himself that it was just more magic.

Snape stayed in that position for only about a minute before pulling himself out of the flames, straightening up and patting the dust off his robes. "I've got a healer to come and fix you right," he said. "She'll be here any second now."

Just as he said so, Harry heard a large woosh! and green flames again rose in the fireplace. When they cleared, Harry was shocked to see a woman in black and white robes and a matronly cap standing stooped over in the grate and patting herself down. "You know, you could build a larger fireplace, Severus," she said with a reproving, but slightly amused look.

Snape muttered something that sounded like "bugger off" to himself, but didn't say anything more.

The woman smirked and turned to Harry. "Hello, Harry. I'm Madam Pomfrey, the nurse at Hogwarts and I'll fix you up here in a jiffy. She knelt down in front of him, tapping Harry's leg up and down with her wand. "Now, how did this happen?" she asked delicately.

"My friend Nat and I were climbing trees in the thicket and I slipped off one of the branches."

"Ah yes, and where does it hurt exactly?"

"My ankle. I'm pretty sure it's broken; I couldn't walk back after I fell."

"Hmmm, let me see." She tenderly untied his decrepit shoe and rolled off his lumpy sock. Underneath, the skin was black and purple with a hint of yellow and was so swollen Harry was surprised his shoe hadn't split from his ankle's sudden growth. "Yes, yes, it's a break, and a pretty good one at that. But nothing I can't mend, eh?" She brought her wand tip to rest on Harry's enlarged ankle and started to murmur a long incantation under her breath which Harry couldn't catch.

Immediately, small strands of what looked like ghostly ribbons shot out of the tip of the wand and encased his entire foot. Harry felt a tingling sensation and, as suddenly as it had come, the pain vanished. The ribbons withdrew themselves into Madam Pomfrey's wand and his ankle was left there bare, but completely healed.

"Wow," Harry breathed. "That could come in handy with my cousin around. Thanks, Madam Pomfrey!"

"Oh dear, it was nothing. And call me Poppy, at least until you get to school that is." She winked at him, but then became suddenly stern. "If you need anything, dear, anything at all, don't hesitate to call." Harry nodded and she turned to Snape. "Thank you for calling me, Severus. You did the right thing. Contact me again if you have another problem.

Snape nodded curtly and handed her the powder-filled jar. She took some, threw it into the fireplace and ducked before saying, "The Hospital Wing, Hogwarts!" just as Snape had before she was gone in a flash of green fire.

Harry put his foot down on the cold, stone floor testily, trying his weight on it. He was surprised to find that it felt almost as though nothing had happened, and stood up without any pain. However, as he did so, a strange dizzying sensation clouded his head and he was forced to sit down again.

"Bed," said Snape's curt voice from his side. "Now." He waved his wand and Harry felt himself floating about a foot above the ground. Snape levitated him all the way back into his bed without actually stepping foot inside the boy's quarters. As soon as Harry had pulled his blankets over himself (he was still in his normal clothes and hadn't even bothered to pull of his other shoe), he fell asleep only to wake to a newly rising sun outside his window. I must have slept for ages he though, rubbing the salt out of the corners of his eyes. At that moment his stomach growled loudly as if to confirm this, and he realized he hadn't eaten since breakfast of the previous day. I need food.

He jumped out of bed, pulled on his other sock and shoe and bolted down the stairs. As he had expected, there was a plate full of breakfast waiting for him when he got to the kitchen. Snape was there too, reading the newspaper as usual. However, when he hear Harry enter the room he set the paper down and surveyed the boy with his piercing gaze.

"From the way you were thundering down the stairs, I assume you are feeling better, then." It wasn't a question.

"Yessir, and thanks for helping me out yesterday." Harry slid into his usual chair and started to eat, fully expecting Snape to pull up his newspaper and ignore Harry as he normally did. But, to Harry's surprise, he continued to stare at the boy, his expression unreadable as always. After a couple minutes of this uncomfortable silence he spoke.

"Yesterday you made an offhand comment that I wanted to ask you about."

Harry looked up and wiped his mouth on his napkin, eyebrows raised.

Snape continued; "You said that the bone-mending spell would be useful with your cousin around. What did you mean by that?"

Harry blushed slightly. "Ah, well, my cousin Dudley has this 'gang' together with three of his best mates from school. Everyone knows to stay away from them, but in my case it's a bit difficult. You see, they have this…er…game they like to play." Harry took a nervous breath, and looked down, playing with the food on his plate. "They call it 'Harry Hunting' and it usually ends up with me backed up into some corner and Dudley, or one of his mates, or all four of them together wailing on me. When I came here, my eyes was blacked and my glasses broken because he had beat me up earlier that day." Harry's cheeks went a little redder. He hated admitting that he was weak, especially to this man who seemed to already think so little of him.

Harry heard a snort from across the table, and looked up to see Snape smirking in a self-satisfied sort of way. He couldn't believe it. The man had ignored him, admonished him, belittled his parents, and now he was laughing at Harry's misfortunes! Could Snape possibly get worse?

"What?" Harry cried in anger and amazement at the man's incredible reaction to his story. He didn't expect Snape to throw him a pity party, but he certainly hadn't expected this either. "What's so funny?"

Snape continued to smirk at him. "Oh, nothing, it is just that I have realized how history has a cruel sense of irony, nothing more." He let out another snort of laughter that was completely devoid of mirth.

"What…what do you mean by that?" asked Harry, his voice cracking from trying to control his emotions.

"You father just seems a lot like your cousin. He always need three friends behind him whenever he would terrorize someone in the schoolyard. Looks like what goes around comes around." His smirk grew wider, evidently enjoying making Harry so enraged.

Harry was now fighting back the tears that were forming at the corners of his eyes with every once of strength he had. When he spoke, he pronounced each word deliberately and slowly so that his voice wouldn't shake. "My dad didn't terrorize people. And even if he did, I'm not my dad, so why should I get his punishment?" With that, he threw his fork and napkin down onto his plate with a clatter and ran off to his room.

Snape sat completely unmoving except for the knife he was twirling between his fingers. His smirk had faded, and his lips had now pursed themselves together slightly defensively. If he was to be honest with himself, the boy's last words had caught him by surprise. Potter was completely right, of course. As much as he looked like him, the boy wasn't his father. In fact, in terms of nature, he seemed quite the opposite.

Snape sighed. No matter what he did now, though, it wouldn't matter. He'd messed things up good now. Potter hated him, just as he'd wanted when they boy entered his house. i I will leave him be for a couple days. Let his anger subside a bit. Then again, if he holds a grudge like his parents… /i Snape shook off the idea. If that was the case, he'd be lucky to ever talk to Potter again.

For the rest of the day Harry stayed diligently sequestered in his room, coming out only for meals, and even then checking to make sure Snape wasn't in the kitchen before he entered. He didn't ever want to see that greasy git again. Going back to the Dursley's now seemed like a joy that would never come fast enough.

Harry fumed for the next couple of days, but, as he knew it would, he anger eventually began to fade. He wasn't any good at staying angry with a person, mainly because he was often so needy for friendship that he wasn't in any position to refuse company when he got it. That didn't mean he wouldn't act indignant whenever he saw Snape again, of course. But then again, it didn't really matter what he though, Snape hated him, and nothing would change that.

Therefore, Harry was very surprised when he went down to dinner than night to find Severus Snape sitting at the table seemingly waiting for him.

Harry sat down cautiously, not knowing what to make of the man's surprising presence. Then he remembered that he was supposed to be man at him and narrowed his eyes into a half-hearted glare.

Snape saw this and smiled inwardly. Well, at least I do not have to worry about any grudge. On the outside, however, he remained as cold and stoic as ever. "Potter, I have to make a trip into London to get some supplies tomorrow, and I was wondering if you cared to join me."

Harry's eyes lit up and he forgot whatever pretense of a grudge he was holding. "Of course!" he cried happily. Then, realizing he should keep himself in check said, "Yes, I would like that very much, sir."

"Good," Snape drawled. "Be up by 6:30, I want to get our shopping done before the crowds suffocate us. If you are not, I may have to leave you behind." He raised his eyebrow warningly.

They spoke no more for the rest of dinner, but Harry's hear was leaping in his chest. He'd never before been to London without being beat up by his cousin at some point along the trip. And besides, it sounded as though Snape was going to be taking him to some very interesting shops…

When Harry lay down for bed that night, it took him much longer than normal to drift off to sleep.