Chapter 4

Once again it was morning in New York, but today Harry had run into some trouble.

He had woken with the sun, as normal. Headed out to meet Igor, as normal. Picked pockets and pulled off multiple scams, as normal. And then it all went wrong.

He was reshuffling his cards for a Japanese couple, when he noticed two men in suits watching him. One was young, with short dark hair. The other was incredibly old, with a white beard that fell down to his knees. They were attempting to be discreet, but…

He finished the trick quickly, smiling into the tourist's disgruntled faces as he collected his winnings. He scurried away quickly as the two men shook hands. The younger one left, and Harry slipped quickly down a back alleyway, stuffing the cards into his pocket and reaching for his knife. With one hand on the hilt he flattened himself against the wall , peering around the next corner…

"Good morning,"

He jumped, whirling around to face the old man, who had seemingly appeared right behind him.

Take it easy, Harry, he thought to himself. It's a bit early to kill him.

"Good morning, sir," he said courteously, eyeing the man's pockets. "Can I help you?"

The old guy, it appeared, had not missed the glance.

"I'm looking for a Harry James Potter. I heard he lived somewhere in this area…"

"Well I dunno about a Potter or any James."

"But you know a Harry?"

Harry pretended to think about it for a moment.

"Who's asking?"

"My name is Professor Dumbledore," said the man, holding out a hand. "I've come to offer you a place at my school."

Harry stepped back quickly, his neutral expression vanishing.

"You can't fool me," he snarled. "You've come to drag me to a Home! I won't go! I know what goes on in those places!"

"Harry, you misunderstand me," said Dumbledore calmly, his blue eyes twinkling. "I have come to take you to my school."

"Liar!"

"Come now Harry, be reasonable…"

Dumbledore tried to place his hand on his shoulder, but Harry was faster with a twist of his arm he plunged his knife into the old man's side. Dumbledore cried out in pain, and Harry began to run. But before he could reach the end of the street there was a flash of red light and he was gone.

XXX

"Harry?" whispered Mitch in the darkness. Harry felt a gentle hand in his hair. "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine," he whispered back. "You?"

"Yeah, I'm okay."

"Where are we?"

"I dunno, kid. Can you remember what happened?"

"I remember the cops coming… did we get busted?"

"I think so."

"I don't wanna go to an orphanage, Mitch!"

"I think it's too late…"

XXX

Severus was helping Poppy sort through her batch of potions when there was a flash of fire, and Dumbledore appeared in the hospital wing. He was carrying a smaller figure, who he quickly dropped onto the bed. Dumbledore was covered in blood. Poppy gasped as he crumpled to the floor.

"Albus!"

The two of them hauled the man onto a bed. Poppy began the diagnosis while Severus ran to floo the other heads of houses.

"There's a pretty sizable wound in his side!" she cried, beginning the incantation that would heal him. "We're going to need a blood-replenishing potion!"

She tossed aside the knife that had been stuck in his side. Severus collected the potion, and helped Dumbledore to drink it as McGonagall, Flitwick, and Sprout arrived. They stared, aghast, at the sight before them.

"What happened?"

"We don't know," said Severus grimly. He moved over to the child. "The boy's unconscious, probably from a stunning spell."

"Should we wake him?"

"Judging by the state of our headmaster, I'd say not. At least, not until we know what happened…"

"He's coming round," announced Poppy. Dumbledore's eyes were fluttering. "Albus? Can you hear me?"

"Yes, I can hear you," replied Dumbledore. His voice was quieter than usual, but steady. He pushed himself upright. "How long was I unconscious?"

"Only a few minutes," said Poppy softly. "What happened? There was a knife sticking out of your side!"

Dumbledore gestured to the boy, still asleep on the bed.

"Mr Potter happened," said Dumbledore stiffly. "The boy's wild."

"He looks like you scooped him off the street," squeaked Flitwick, placing a tentative hand on Harry's shoulder.

"Don't be ridiculous," said Dumbledore. "The American ministry uncovered files from a muggle orphanage. We found him less than two miles away from it."

"He wasn't in school?"

"On a Saturday?" Dumbledore suddenly had a horrible thought. "What time is it? When will the other students be arriving?"

"3 pm," said Poppy. "There's plenty of time."

Dumbledore nodded, and pushed himself off the bed.

"I'm fine," he said at their concerned looks. "Thanks for patching me up. Now, shall we talk to Mr Potter?"

XXX

"I don't believe you," said Harry defiantly. "Gimme my knife back!"

Professor Dumbledore sighed.

"You will not be getting 'your knife' back, Harry. It should not have been in your possession in the first place…"

"Bugger off granddad!"

Severus sniggered into his hand. Dumbledore was getting seriously frustrated now.

"I am afraid you won't be going anywhere, Mr Potter," he snapped, all twinkling gone from his eyes. "Are there any personal belongings you would like me to collect from the orphanage?"

"I wasn't at no orphanage!"

"Don't be ridiculous, the file clearly stated…"

Severus decided to intervene.

"Why don't you leave Mr Potter with me?" he said. "He will need some supplies before the others arrive."

Dumbledore scowled, went to leave the room. Poppy stopped him on the way out, and motioned for the other adults to join her in the corridor.

"I've done the scans," she said. "It… it's him, it's Lily and James' son."

Dumbledore turned white as a sheet. "Are you sure?"

"Positive. I still have their records from when they were at Hogwarts, and there's a perfect match."

"But how is he alive? And what was he doing in New York?"

"Those questions can wait," said Severus. "I'm going to talk to him, before he decides to climb out the window or something."

Severus re-entered the hospital wing to see that Harry was indeed casing the windows. He jumped back onto the bed when he saw the Professor, and Severus smiled dryly. Harry glared at him.

"Fuck off."

Severus raised his eyebrows.

"Quite the mouth you have there," he sat on the bed opposite Harry's. "The Headmaster wants to know why you weren't in the orphanage today."

"I don't belong to an orphanage!"

"I know that."

"No you don't! You don't know a fucking thing about me!"

"You ran away from an orphanage," said Severus. "Grew up on the streets judging by your clothes, hygiene, and height. Probably picked pockets to survive."

Harry stared down at his feet, but didn't answer.

"You know," said Snape softly. "Adults never believed me either."

"All adults are wankers," snarled Harry. "You can't trust 'em."

"Oh, I have plenty of experience with that," said Severus with a grim smile, shrugging off his robe. He began to unbutton his shirt. "I'll show you mine if you'll show me yours."

He opened his shirt to reveal a long jagged scar across his chest. Harry's mouth dropped open.

"Where'd you get that?"

"My father," said Severus. "I was ten."

"The bastard!"

"Exactly. I bet you haven't got one nearly as impressive."

Harry's eyes glimmered with enthusiasm.

"Nah, yours is rubbish," he snorted. He pulled off his own t-shirt. Beneath the grime his torso was littered with scars. Severus nodded.

"Impressive," he said. "I bet you were much tougher than your average street kid."

"You bet," said Harry, holding his head high.

"Harder to injure."

"Of course," he said. "I've got rubber bones, me. Never broken one in my life, and I fell three whole floors onto the sidewalk!"

Severus nodded. "Any other child would have died," he said solemnly. "You were protected, by your magic."

"There's no such thing as magic."

Severus raised his eyebrows again, and gave his wand a quick flick. A bowl of water and a flannel floated towards them. With another flick the water was nice and warm. Severus moved to sit next to Harry, encouraged when the boy didn't shrink away from him. He took the flannel, and began rubbing it on Harry's back, steadily removing layers of dirt.

"So," he started cautiously. "What was a boy like you doing on the streets of New York?"

"I'm not answering any of your bloody questions," said Harry defensively. Severus nodded.

"How about, you answer my question, and you can ask me one?"

"I ask first!"

"Very well."

"Where am I?"

"You're in Hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry. It's a large castle in Scotland?"

"Scotland, is that in Manhattan?"

"No, we're not in America anymore. This is Britain."

"Britain…" mused Harry. "I met a British guy once. He punched me in the face after I cheated him out of twenty bucks."

"Right… now my question. Do you have any parents?"

"I don't remember any," said Harry quietly. "Mitch looked after me, but when we were busted, I had to cope on my own. How can magic be real?"

"It just is," said Severus. "But not everybody has the ability to use it. You're a wizard, and here we can teach you to control you magic. What happened to you at the orphanage?"

"Next question."

"Okay… how did you get those scars?"

"Knife fights, mostly. Can… can you tell me a bit more about this place? When can I leave…"