When Harry could breathe normally again, he opened his eyes. He hadn't really noticed it, but as soon as they'd Apparated he'd pinched them tightly together.

Snape was still holding onto his arm, and it was a good job really. He felt incredibly wobbly, and was sure he'd topple over if the professor let him go.

They were standing in the middle of a warm living room. A fire was crackling in a fireplace surrounded by a small couch, an armchair, a wing backed chair and a coffee table. There were bookshelves lining the walls, along with a small collection of paintings. Further to the right was a small, round wooden table with four chairs around it, and behind them a door…. Harry suddenly stopped in his viewing of the room and spun his head back to face one of the paintings. It was of a woman, with long, raven hair and startlingly blue eyes. When he made eye contact, she blinked, gave a small smile and waved to him.

"What just happened?" he exclaimed.

"What, Potter?" Snape said, sounding quite tired.

"The… the painting. It moved!"

"As they do," Snape nodded, and finally let go of Harry's arm. The boy shook his head in amazement, and the Potions Master fought hard not to roll his eyes at the boy's reaction. "Now, sit down." Harry stared uncertainly at the sofa, wondering if he'd dare. "Go on, boy, don't just stand there gawking like an imbecile." Harry scrambled to it and was soon sitting perched on the very edge of the soft cushion. Snape moved around in the room, doing whatever it was he needed to do, and Harry used the freedom to look around a bit more. He noticed all the other paintings were moving too. One was of a small cottage between a few large, lush trees. The leaves were moving in a breeze, and birds would fly in and out of the picture. It was by far his favourite in the room, which was otherwise rather dark and a bit… gloomy? But Harry liked it. It felt homey, and very unlike the Dursley's house.

Just a moment later, Snape appeared in sight and took a seat in the armchair.

"Now," he started, crossing his arms, "In a moment, we will call on the Headmaster to assure him that you are safe."

"He knows me too?" Harry squeaked.

"The whole wizarding world knows you, Potter," Snape said, doing his best to sound somewhat calm and collected.

"Really?" he breathed. Snape sighed. It was obvious he'd have to tell the child about what had happened the night his parents had died. It was really a complete bother that no one had done it before. Snape wasn't sure he'd be able to relay the story in a fair way.

"Potter… Your parents did not die in a car crash. I am rather sure they very rarely even drove a car…"

"But my uncle-"

"You are to forget everything your relatives have told you," Snape interrupted. It was hard to believe what he was going to ask the Headmaster when they met… It was also difficult to believe he had already made his mind up. What are you doing to me, Lily?

"But-"

"No, Potter. That is all there is to it." He stared long at into those green eyes until the small boy nodded once. "Good. Now. Your mother… and father," he forced himself to add, "were very nice and very brave people."

"Yeah?"

"Yes. And before, there was a… bad wizard around." He felt completely inadequate talking to this young child. The youngest students at Hogwarts were too young to fully comprehend what he was talking about, and this one was two years younger than them. He sighed fleetingly again. "Your parents fought him on several occasions." And how did you tell a child of eight years that his parents had been murdered anyway? Suddenly, he felt the urge to smirk. He'd leave that bit of information to the Headmaster. Yes, that was perfect. Checking his pocket watch he realised they did indeed have to leave to visit the old man.

"We will continue this in a moment. We must go and see the Headmaster now."

"Are we at Hogwarts?" the boy whispered, suddenly looking around him again.

"Yes, we are. Now come along." Severus rose and headed for the door, pleased to hear small feet quickly pad after him. He opened the door and stepped out into the chilly dungeon corridor, closing the door with a flick of his wand when the boy was outside.

"What was that?" Harry exclaimed.

"What was what?" Severus asked, still trying to be patient. They started walking up the corridor towards staircase.

"That stick!" the boy explained, almost running to keep up with the man's long strides.

"You mean my wand," Severus said, and not as a question.

"A wand?"

"Yes, Potter, a wand. The object with which we perform magic," he drawled, walking swiftly up the stairs, the rambunctious boy jogging along with him.

"Wicked," he whispered, slightly out of breath. Snape noticed this, and slowed down a bit, but still walking quickly. As they got into the brighter parts of the castle, Harry was once again mesmerised.

"This is amazing," he declared, starting to feel more comfortable with the stern professor. He was so much nicer than his relatives, and actually told him the truth about his parents. Which reminded him… "Hey, Snape?" The professor came to an abrupt halt, and Harry walked right past him before stopping and turning around. The man came up to him, towering over the small boy.

"Do not talk to me like that," he said in a low, firm voice. Harry shrunk a few inches by the chastisement. "It's Professor Snape or sir to you, understood?"

"Yes, sir," Harry whispered, feeling miserable. A curt nod was all he got in response as the professor started walking again, and Harry hurried to keep up. "Professor?" he tried again.

"Yes, Potter?"

"How did my parents die?" he asked in a small voice, curious but scared of the answer at the same time. The way the man had spoken about it made Harry think it couldn't have been a very pleasant event. Not that anyone dying was ever pleasant…

"I thought I told you we'd continue that discussion later," Snape answered. Harry turned very quiet then, and focused on the stone floor under his sneaker clad feet.

After what felt like an eternity, they reached a stone gargoyle, and stopped.

"I need to speak to the Headmaster," Snape said to the beast. Harry thought he'd gone mad: why was he speaking to a stone creature? But shockingly enough, the thing turned its head up towards Snape.

"Password?" it said in a gruff sort of voice. Snape hissed:

"Just let me in. You know who I am."

"I cannot let anyone in without the correct password," the gargoyle countered. Snape seemed to want to smash the thing (did wizards smash things with magic? Harry wondered), but instead he said:

"Oh for the love… Acid pops."

"Always so obliging, Snape," the beast grinned and jumped aside, revealing a doorway. Snape pulled Harry with him inside, and they stood in the staircase. It started rotating upwards, and Harry couldn't say a word. It was all simply stunning, and he decided he would not be surprised at anything else that happened. They arrived outside a wooden door, and Snape knocked twice. A soft voice asked them to enter, and Snape opened the door, pushing the boy in first.

"Ah, Severus." Harry had spotted the Headmaster the moment the door had opened. He was sitting behind a large desk, a pair of half moon spectacles perched on his crooked nose. Dressed in deep purple robes, his white beard and hair seemed to glow, and he gave Harry a warm smile as they made eye contact. "And Harry. How very nice to see you, my boy."

"Hello, sir," Harry said, shy all of a sudden. Snape rolled his eyes and ushered the boy forwards before finally pushing him down in one of the chairs in front of the desk, sitting down in the other one.

"You requested to see the boy, Headmaster," was the first thing Snape said as he looked at the elderly wizard.

"I did indeed," he nodded in agreement. "How are you, Harry?" Yet another person who knew his name and who he was. Harry was rather bewildered, but mustered up the courage to respond anyway.

"I'm well, thanks," he replied.

"I'm glad to hear it. A bit of accidental magic today, too, I understand," the Headmaster continued. Harry blushed, for some reason, and nodded. "Yes, yes. Would you like a biscuit?" Dumbledore held out a tin, full of sugary treats.

"Yes, please," Harry said eagerly, and carefully picked one up.

"Ginger newts," the Headmaster said. "My personal favourite. Minerva's too, I believe." Harry didn't know who Minerva was, but nodded just to be polite. "Well then. My name is Professor Dumbledore, Harry, and I'm the Headmaster of Hogwarts." Harry nodded again.

"Albus…" The man turned his kind eyes from Harry and rested them on Snape instead.

"Severus?"

"The boy has been under the impression that his parents were killed in a car accident," Severus said coolly, and Dumbledore's thin eyebrows rose an inch. "I believe it kindest if you were to enlighten him." The older man's eyes flashed briefly, but he smiled pleasantly.

"Yes, we should enlighten him," he agreed. Severus, having known Dumbledore for a long time, was sure he saw a gleam of uncertainty in the Headmasters' mirthful eyes. "Harry, how much did Professor Snape tell you?"

"About what, sir?" Harry asked with the same innocence of a young child.

"About your parents, and their death," he added gently.

"Oh… Not much. Only that they didn't die in a car crash. And that there was a dark wizard about at the time that they fought. But he said we'd continue talking about that later," he added, glancing at Snape for some sort of confirmation.

Harry seemed positively elated about the fact that his parents had been on the force against evil, and Severus was of the opinion that they ought to snuff this attitude to danger as soon as possible.

"I see… This wizard, Harry, is known-"

"Don't say his name," Snape interjected, but in vain.

"- as Lord Voldemort." Snape huffed ever so slightly. "He should know his name, Severus," Albus said calmly.

"Lord Voldemort?"

"Don't say his name," Snape hissed in admonishment, making the child wince.

"Because of what he did," Dumbledore continued, "Most people prefer call him You-Know-Who, or He Who Must Not Be Named." He cast Snape a glance. "However, I have found that fear of a name only increases fear of the thing itself, and therefore, I do encourage you to use his actual name."

"Did he kill my parents?" The question was followed by a profound silence, as neither of the adults knew how to answer this delicately. Harry hadn't even turned nine yet, and they didn't want to tell him bluntly that his parents had been murdered. To protect him.

"Yes, Harry," Dumbledore said softly. "But they did not die in vain. Your mother died to protect you. That scar you have…" Harry unconsciously touched his forehead, "is there because Lord Voldemort tried and failed to kill you." Harry stared, mouth hanging open, at the old man who was watching him serenely.

"Oh," was all he said, his green eyes very tender and downcast.

"I believe Mr Potter could do with some rest," Snape said determinedly. "And I would like a word with you, Headmaster. In private," he added when he noticed Harry was trying to protest.

"I think you might be right," Dumbledore smiled. "I'll call for Madame Pomfrey." He rose and walked over to the fireplace. With one hand, he threw in what Harry thought looked like greyish green sand, and the flames immediately turned a startling green. Without a moment's hesitation, he stuck his head into the hearth.

"No!" Harry exclaimed in surprise and horror.

"Do calm down, Mr Potter," Snape said in his usual silky voice. "The Headmaster is merely Floo-calling the Mediwitch." Harry gaped at him, but said no more. After a few moments, Dumbledore's head reappeared, and through the flames stepped a lady in curly, ashy hair, dressed in a grey dress with some sort of apron on top. Harry thought she looked kind, but maybe a bit hectic.

"Dear me, young Harry Potter, look at that. And so skinny, heavens, I have never seen a child look so miserable. Come along dear, we'll go get you washed up and fed."

"But-"

"No, no, come along now. I'm Madame Pomfrey, see, I work at the Infirmary. Jiffy up, lad, and follow me." Harry had no choice but to follow the witch out of the office, turning his head to give Snape one, last pleading look before the door swung closed behind him. Snape gave an exhausted sigh, finally feeling he could ease up as the boy was out of the room.

"Where did you find him?" Dumbledore asked instantly. When Severus had spotted the child he had immediately alerted the Headmaster, but had not told him where he'd found him. He had been almost scared to send any message at all to the elderly wizard, even though he had used a Patronus, which would not be intercepted.

"It didn't take long," Severus admitted. "I checked at Godric's Hollow, where he was not, just as I suspected." The Headmaster gave him an indulgent smile, which irritated the Potions Master further. "I eventually found him outside Lily's childhood home," he said in a low voice, not needing to point out that the boy had been frighteningly close to his own old house at Spinner's End. It had been odd, walking down the street where he'd once hid behind some lilac bushes to get a glimpse of the pretty Lily Evans as she skipped off to the park with her horse-faced sister.

"I can't say I'm surprised," said Dumbledore, his brow slightly furrowed. "It is worrying, however," he continued, before Severus could speak up, "that the boy was actually able to leave the area in the way that he did." Snape raised a questioning eyebrow. "I have done my utmost to hinder him from straying too far from the home of the Dursley's. To keep him safe, of course," he added, as if there was any question as to why he had cast extra protections around the Boy-Who-Lived.

"What is to be done now?" Snape enquired, disregarding the Headmaster's explanation entirely.

"Why, the child must be returned home," Dumbledore said, as if this was the most logical solution in the world.

"Headmaster, if I may…" Severus paused, uncertain of how to phrase his concerns. "If Potter was able to travel as far as he did, maybe we should consider the fact that the Muggle area is not the safest place for him."

"Continue," the Headmaster said when Snape paused again.

"Also… The child gave me reason to believe he has been mistreated at his relatives'."

"Mistreated how?" Dumbledore's eyes had suddenly lost their usual gleam and were cold and serious. Of course he'd be concerned about his precious Potter. Snape almost felt like not answering, and let the man send the boy back. But the way Potter had looked at him, with those clear, green eyes, had sent a strange feeling through his body. He couldn't leave the child with those people, however irritating he might be.

"He would not tell me at the time," Snape admitted. "But when I asked him about it he hesitated before lying to me. I know a liar when I meet one," he added before Dumbledore could respond, and gave the man a long, grave look.

"I am aware. I cannot keep him here, though, Severus," he added, a grieved look painted across his old face. Snape knew for certain that Dumbledore would press for specifics on the boy's behaviour, but thankfully not now. The last thing Snape needed was a trip down sentimental avenue and listen to the Headmaster's rambling about 'poor Harry'.

"I do have a suggestion, Headmaster…" He paused for a moment, and Dumbledore said nothing, but watched the man with interest. "There is several of the staff who could look after him. Also, the boy will need tutoring. With the dangers he will face in his future, I think it quite suitable if I trained him in Defence." A thin, white eyebrow above Dumbledore's left eye rose slowly.

"You are telling me that you, willingly, would teach the child before he starts Hogwarts?" Severus squirmed. Actually, no, he did not squirm. He moved in uncomfortable silence on his chair. Yes, that was more like it.

"All I am saying," he continued, raising his voice ever so slightly, "is that the child will, without a doubt, face a lot of unusual situations and he ought to be prepared. I have seen the works of the Dark Lord first hand," he said with a quiet voice, eyeing the Headmaster closely.

"I know you have," Dumbledore said softly. "And I do think it is an excellent idea." Now it was Snape's turn to raise an eyebrow. "However, I think he should be returned home."

"That is not a home," Snape interjected. "I have seen how the boy reacts when asked about the place, and I am certain that he is not being treated well there."

"Severus…"

"Be reasonable, Albus. It is obvious that the protection you have placed on the Dursley's didn't stop the boy from leaving the area when in distress. Who is to say it will not happen again?" Albus Dumbledore held the younger man's eyes for several minutes without speaking. Snape was adamant about not caving, and didn't look away or say anything at all under the man's heavy scrutiny.

"Very well. But I can only agree to this on one condition." Severus was rather surprised by how quickly the Headmaster had relented, but his condition set the man completely on edge.

"You want me to what?"

"Swallow it all, there's a good boy." Harry was sitting on one of the beds in the Infirmary, obediently gulping down a nourishing potion that Madame Pomfrey had handed him. It tasted like porridge, but he thought he'd be polite and not point this out. "My, you're nothing but skin and bone. Well, I never…" She'd been saying similar things since they'd left Dumbledore's office, and Harry hadn't answered. She didn't seem to mind: it was obvious she was speaking more to herself than to Harry.

"I'm fine," Harry said after having swallowed the entire potion. "Really…"

"Hush now, child, that's right." She was hurrying around the room, doing God knew what, and Harry was getting restless. He wanted to find Snape and ask him what was happening. After having come to Hogwarts, Harry really didn't want to go back to the Dursley's. An icy kind of fear mixed with panic set into his gut and he felt his hands get clammy.

"Madame Pomfrey…" He was sort of proud for remembering her name, and she looked up with a surprised expression on her face.

"Yes, dear?"

"Do I have to go back?" Since she was the only adult around, he figured it'd be best to ask her and not run away on his own, searching for answers.

"Now I can't possibly answer that, lad," she said briskly. But Harry thought he saw a flash of uncertainty in her face, and hoped dearly they wouldn't send him back. Oh, please, please… Just then, the door to the hospital wing was flung open and Snape strode in with long steps. His face looked stormy, and Harry crouched a bit at his stern gaze. The man's eyes finally landed on Harry, and he stopped dead. What did I do, was the first thing that flew through Harry's head when Snape looked at him like that.

"Well come on, Potter," he suddenly spat. "I don't have all day." Harry hastily scooted off the bed and landed with a small thud on the stone floor, hurrying after Snape, who'd turned with a flick of his robes and started to walk towards the door once again.

"Where are we going?" he peeped as he scampered after the clearly irate man.

"Home," he growled, and started down the stairs, a small, questioning boy trailing after him.

Hello again! A bit shorter, this. Sorry 'bout that. Just sort of want to get going.
Lots of revising to do, but I can't help writing either, so I'll keep doing my best with updates.
Thank you so much to all of you who have added 'Letting him go' to your favourites and story alerts! Means so much to me :))
I hope you enjoyed it, and do review!

Ivy