A/N: I got this up a bit quicker than I thought I would. But that's positive, right? ((:

I hope you all had a nice Halloween, with loads of treats and spooky stuff. I didn't. Mine was spent drinking tea and writing. Then again, I'm a rather quiet soul, not a fan of all the partying stuff... Do I sound 458727348 years old? Haha...

Oh, and before anyone comments on it; yes, I did write rubber. For all you Americans it would be an eraser, haha! It's the English-I-mean-British way. ;)

Ivy

"Potter, get in here please." Harry sighed and put Hogwarts: A History down on his bedside table. He'd been reading for a while, content with staying in his room with the book. He found it fantastically interesting, especially since it gave him a real insight in the school where he now lived.

He got up from his bed and obediently made his way to the living room, where Snape was sitting by his desk. Though it had now been three days since that night, Harry still felt rather nervous and embarrassed about looking Snape in the eye. The man had held him for over an hour until eventually; the child fell asleep in the Potions Master's arms.

Severus looked up from the letter he was penning as Harry approached.

"Sir?" Harry said timidly when Severus remained quiet, gazing thoughtfully at him.

"Have a seat," Snape nodded towards a chair that had appeared from nowhere behind the boy. Harry sat cautiously, wondering what was going on. Snape capped his ink bottle slowly and blew briefly on the letter. "Now that you no longer stay with your… relatives, you will not be able to attend your Muggle school." Harry tried not to look too happy about this. "However, what you probably are not aware of is that as a wizard child, you would normally have been educated in the simpler forms of magic since before you could speak your own name." Harry did not know this, but in a way, he supposed it was obvious.

"Oh," was all he said in the short span of silence that followed.

"Before you come to Hogwarts, you, too, will need to further your Muggle education as well as begin you magical training."

"I get to use magic?" Harry asked in an excited voice.

"Not use it, no. Not yet, at least." Harry slumped and looked decidedly miserable.

"Then what's the use in it?"

"Magical theory is a very important aspect of learning magic, young man," Snape said sternly at the boy's dejected expression. "Once I feel you are mature enough then maybe we can get you a wand and you can start-"

"I'll get my own wand?"

"Do not interrupt, Potter," Snape growled. "And yes, of course you get a wand. How else are you supposed to perform magic, you foolish child?" Harry shrugged, twisting his finger into the fabric of his t-shirt. "If you will let me get to the point…" He hesitated for a moment to make sure the boy kept silent, and then continued when Harry just bit his lower lip and dangled his legs. "All of this means that you will receive a rather… unusual mix. You will be taught some mathematics, History and English, as well as basic magic, such as Charms, Potions, and some Defence." Harry had never been particularly fond of school. Then again, that was mostly due to the fact that he had acted as Dudley's punch bag, and suffered being tormented by all other kids, because Dudley had spread all kinds of strange and hurtful rumours. No, he couldn't say he was looking forward to the normal subjects (Muggle, was it?). The magic ones on the other hand… Had Harry had things his way, they would have started immediately, right then and there. Of course, Professor Snape had everything planned out already.

"You will begin your classes tomorrow," he continued. "We will alternate your subjects, so that you have two each day, one Muggle and one magical. Do you understand?"

"Yes, sir," Harry nodded rather eagerly.

"You will have classes on Wednesdays, Thursdays and Fridays, and then studying on Mondays and Tuesdays." Harry nodded, wondering if he should feel upset about having to do so much work during the summer holidays. In all honesty, it didn't bother him. At least not yet. Maybe things would change once he had homework to do…

"Professor?"

"Hm?"

"Who will teach me?" he asked.

"Professor Flitwick will teach Charms, and I will teach Potions and simple Defence theory."

"And… And the other subjects?" Harry asked, not yet comfortable with referring to them as "Muggle".

"Professor Charity Burbage," he replied. Harry didn't recall having met her, which Snape soon explained. "We didn't visit her earlier, as she was in London, meeting her mother. She's back now."

"Oh."

"She normally teaches Muggle Studies, and thus has sufficient knowledge on the subjects you will need to take for a while." Harry merely nodded, wishing he didn't have to study the "Muggle" subjects anymore. "So, this means you have Potions and mathematics on Wednesdays, Charms and English on Thursdays and Defence and History on Fridays."

"All right," Harry said quietly, nibbling his lip thoughtfully. Severus sighed irritably, leaning forward on the desk.

"What is it, Potter? I can see something is troubling your naïve mind, so spit it out."

"Why do I have to take Mu-Muggle subjects?" he asked timidly, stumbling on the word Muggle.

"Because, Potter, you will otherwise be missing out on two years of education. It will prove useful for you to learn some more of the basics before you are enrolled here at Hogwarts."

"But, sir, what if I don't get accepted here?" Harry asked, his worry shining through.

"Potter, you are a wizard, of course you will be enrolled here," Severus retorted, his voice curt.

"Are all wizards invited to Hogwarts?" Harry asked.

"In Britain, yes. But there are parents who choose to educate their children themselves, perhaps if they cannot afford the tuition fees. Others choose to send their sons and daughters to other schools."

"There are other schools?" the boy exclaimed. Snape snorted.

"Of course there are, silly child. Hogwarts only houses around 350 students, hardly big enough for the entire wizarding population."

"Oh."

"Yes, oh," Snape said sarcastically. He scooted his chair back and stood up, and Harry had to tilt his head backwards to keep looking at the professor's face. "I need to pick up some potions ingredients in Hogsmeade," he announced. "Come along."

"I get to come with you?" Harry exclaimed, standing up in his excitement. Previously when Snape had needed to leave the castle, Harry had been assigned one babysitter or another.

"Yes. I don't think I dare leave you with anyone," Snape said tersely. "Go and put your shoes on." Harry looked down at his sock-clad shoes, as if surprised to not see his trainers there. "Hurry up, Potter," Severus snapped, and Harry jumped off the chair and hurried to his room where his trainers lay haphazardly on the carpet. He pulled them on and laced them as quickly as his small hands could manage.

"Potter! Get your scrawny backside out here!" Harry almost smiled as he hurried back out.

Harry excitedly followed Professor Snape into the dungeon classroom. Snape had first considered holding the classes in his quarters, but felt he ought to keep the boy's school time and his free time apart. They were going to start studying some Potions and Harry felt like he would burst with anticipation. It would be the first time he truly learned something about any other form of magic, and he'd always loved to see Joanne and Henry write their essays, flicking through their thick books. He'd basically turned into a different person since he left the Dursleys, interested in books and looking forward to studying.

"Take a seat, Potter," Snape instructed, nodding towards a desk that had been pulled aside and placed in front of a smaller blackboard. Harry hurriedly hopped onto the chair, wriggling himself as far back as he could and leaning on the backrest. "Potions are a very complex branch of magic, and it will be awhile before you will be able to make any yourself. For one thing, you need a wand." Harry nodded attentively, making Snape feel slightly uncomfortable. The only students who ever looked this interested were his NEWTs, and since Harry mostly resembled a first year, it was all a very unusual situation. "A lot of the most advanced spells need potions to complement or aid them, but the potions in themselves are generally just as advanced and complicated, if not more so. The most powerful and skilled wizards in the world are often trained Potions Masters."

"Is Professor Dumbledore a Potions Master?" Harry asked, sitting on his hands.

"Not a qualified one, no," Snape replied. "He does of course have adequate knowledge of the fine magic, but has always chosen to pursue… different areas to study."

"Oh."

"Now then, Mr Potter. What would you say potions might be used for?" Harry, startled at already being asked questions, gawked at the professor, his mouth hanging open. "Close your mouth, child, you look like a gargoyle." Harry closed his mouth and nibbled his lip. "Well? I asked you a question."

"Erm… Maybe… As medicine?" Harry asked cautiously. Snape gave a curt nod.

"There are a number of potions that are used as remedies for different diseases and maladies, yes." Harry, thrilled at being right, beamed.

"What else are they used for?" he asked, bouncing up and down in his seat.

"I refuse to proceed with you fidgeting like a toddler," Snape said sharply. The boy rather reluctantly stilled and looked expectantly at the professor. "Medical potions are among the most used. There are also a wide range of poisons and their antidotes, balms, salves, ointments, tinctures, love potions and a dreadfully large amount of joke potions," he added tersely.

"Really? What do they do?" Harry asked, trying very hard not to recommence his bouncing.

"It would take far too long to list all of them. You will discover them sooner or later…"

"Oh," Harry said, realising he was perhaps using that particular word a bit too often. Snape seemed to have noticed too, as he frowned disapprovingly at the child. Harry grimaced apologetically.

"To start with, we will talk a bit about ingredients used in potions. Now, you already know that some ingredients require more care and attention. Some plants also need to be harvested at a certain time of day or year. Why is this?" Harry had bombarded Snape with questions when they'd been at the apothecary, and now found that thanks to his inquisitiveness he actually might be able to answer some of the questions the professor posed.

"It depends on the type of potion, doesn't it?" he asked, feeling only a tad uncertain. "'Cause some plants can gain prot-properties from the weather, yeah?"

"Just so," Snape nodded, and Harry felt his chest swell with pride. He realised he was longing dreadfully for the day when he would become a Hogwarts student and participate in real classes.

His hand poised over the dark wood, Harry hesitated. This would be the first time he met Charity Burbage, and his first maths class. Or mathematics, as Professor Snape said. He giggled slightly, but sobered up when he remembered Snape's threat: Behave, or get well acquainted with my hand. Understood? He shuddered a bit and shook his head. No, he would be polite and attentive for Professor Burbage. Taking a deep, bracing breath, he knocked thrice on the door. He heard some shuffling behind it before the slab of wood creaked open and framed a woman of perhaps thirty, thirty five years, with dusty blonde hair and a smile on her lips.

"Well hello, Harry," she said, as though they'd always known each other.

"Hello," he replied shyly as she stepped aside and waved him inside. They were in a rather small classroom, with only three windows along one wall.

"Sorry about the size," she said with a wink. "Not that many students study Muggle studies, I'm afraid," she added with a sincere laugh before holding out her hand for Harry to shake. "We haven't been properly introduced. My name is Professor Charity Burbage, and I teach Muggle Studies here at Hogwarts. Though I daresay I might not for much longer…" She hesitated, before shaking her head and smiling again. "Come in, come in." He walked slowly after her, and sat down by the offered desk. She rounded it and leaned on the teacher's desk, folding her arms as she smiled down at him. "Well, Mr Potter," she began in a kind voice. "To begin with, I will need to know what you have done so far, in maths," she continued. "I would have asked you earlier, but we've all been a bit busy, have we not?" Harry smiled at her. She seems nice, he thought; glad he wasn't stuck with some wizening old witch for the remainder of his summer. And perhaps beyond that… Snape hadn't said.

"Well," he said, scrunching his face up as he attempted to remember. He didn't generally pay much attention in school, but got by all right all the same. "A bit of this and that," he said sheepishly. She grinned.

"Did you start multiplying and dividing?" she asked helpfully, and Harry nodded in relief.

"Yes ma'am, a bit."

"Well, that's a start. Let's begin there today then." She handed him a pencil, a rubber and a ruler before turning to the black board. "We'll do some problems on the board, and solve them together, all right?" He nodded and smiled in response as she began dragging the white chalk along the board, writing down a few simple multiplication problems. "We'll have you beat all the Muggle kids within the months," she said cheerfully, and Harry couldn't help but laugh.

Saturday was suddenly upon Harry, and he thought he would genuinely miss not having any classes for the next four days. It had all been very interesting, even though he'd been set homework for Potions, Charms, maths and English. He'd decided not to do any of it today, though, as Snape had said they would be having company.

"Who is it?" Harry asked as he sat on the edge of his chair during breakfast. They'd never had anyone but Professor Dumbledore visit them before, and Harry was sure it wouldn't be him today. Thing was, Snape wasn't the kind of person who particularly enjoyed having people over. In fact, Harry was under the impression that Professor Snape was a bit edgy about this visit as well, though he didn't dare ask any details.

"No one you know," Snape said dismissively. Harry didn't point out that that much was obvious: all people he knew that Snape knew were teachers at the school; hardly people Snape would go berserk about. Okay, he wasn't going berserk. He was far too placid a man to do so, but he was certainly different from the usual Snape. Even more curt and snappish, Harry thought.

"Well, obviously…" Harry said, picking his bread roll.

"Young man, you will do well to keep that attitude at bay," Snape said in his low, silky voice. Harry blushed and nodded, avoiding eye-contact. As if by magic, the Floo suddenly roared to life, and Harry jumped in his seat, spinning to watch the hearth. Snape was already up and greeting whoever had stepped through, and Harry craned his neck to get a good look at the visitor. Or visitors, is proved. Standing on the rug was a tall wizard with long, blonde hair. He was wearing a long, velvet cloak and held a gleaming cane in his hand. He had a snooty air about him, and Harry felt instantly frightened. Behind him, though, was a boy. He looked a little older than Harry himself, with grey eyes, pale skin and the same blonde hair as his father. The boy caught sight of Harry and his eyes widened. He tugged the man's cloak – his father, Harry was certain – and then man turned and irritably stared down at him.

"Father, look, it's Harry Potter," Harry heard the boy whisper. He frowned a bit, annoyed at the other boy's manners, but quickly felt sorry for him when his father seemed to admonish him in a low, rapt voice. The boy nodded as a pink blush spread across his aristocratic cheeks.

"Potter, come and say hello to Mr Malfoy and his son, Draco." Harry obediently slid off his chair and wandered over to them, standing close to the Potions Master. Snape rolled his eyes over the boy's head and pushed him forwards.

"Isn't it the famous Harry Potter," he heard from above him, obviously Mr Malfoy. He had a silky voice, a bit like Snape's, but his was a bit chillier. If that was even possible. "It's a pleasure to meet you," he said quietly, and Harry dared to glance up at the man through his fringe.

"Pleasure to meet you too, sir," he mumbled.

"This is my son, Draco," Mr Malfoy continued, yanking the boy forward so that Harry and Draco were facing each other. "You boys are the same age. You ought to get along." Harry nodded, but Draco looked doubting. "Run along, now, I need to speak to Severus." Harry bit his lip uncertainly.

"Potter… Take Draco to your room." He glanced up briefly at Snape, who was frowning, before nodding mutely and walking towards his room. He didn't need to look back to know that Draco was following him, and that both the men were watching them go.

Upon entering his room, Harry recognised that he would have to turn and talk to this boy, Draco. He hadn't said a word yet, and Harry, being the owner of the room they were in, supposed he would have to initiate conversation. He smiled shyly.

"Hi," he said lamely. "I'm Harry."

"I know," Draco replied quietly, looking, with the boredom evident in his eyes, at Harry.

"Oh." The silence that followed was profound, and Harry felt slight resentment towards his guardian. He had no idea how to speak to this boy! He had always known he was a wizard, and it wasn't as if Harry had had a lot of friends in school, when he lived with the Dursleys. He hadn't had any at all, as a matter of fact. So just how did Snape expect him to be able to speak to this kid?

"Is it true you defeated the Dark Lord?" Draco asked suddenly, his eyes drifting up to Harry's forehead, the exact position of his legendary scar.

"What?" Harry asked, dumbfounded.

"Well, is it?" Draco repeated insistently.

"I… I don't know," Harry replied. Had he? He tried to remember what Professor Dumbledore had said. His mother had died for him, and Voldemort had tried to kill him but not been able to. Draco snorted and sat down by Harry's desk, uninvited.

"This is a rather small room," he remarked. Harry nodded. Not that he agreed. It was a whole lot better than the dusty, cramped cupboard he had earlier called his own. He bit his lip to not retort something rude. The fact that Draco was insulting his room, which he loved, made anger bubble in the pit of his stomach.

"It's all right," he said tightly. Draco sniffed.

"My room is about four times the size of this. And I have a balcony."

"Can't have a balcony in the cellar, though, can you?" Harry replied testily.

"I never said so," Draco said with a frown. "So why're you living with Uncle Sev?" Uncle Sev?

"Uncle Sev?" Draco smirked.

"Yeah, he's my dad's friend. Always known him."

"Oh."

"Well?"

"What?" Draco sighed irritably.

"Why are you here?"

"Prof'sor Snape's my garde-guardian," Harry said, as though this was the most obvious thing in the world. It probably wasn't, but he had realised quickly that he didn't much care for this boy, Draco.

"What? Why?"

"Because," Harry snapped. He'd got a lot more comfortable with himself while he'd been living with Snape, as he finally got to be just a kid, and not have to cook, clean, hide and cower all the time.

"No need to get like that… Do you play Quidditch?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"Because I've lived with my relatives up until a few weeks ago."

"So? You could play anyway."

"They're not wizards."

"You lived with Muggles? How awful."

"Yeah," Harry replied, though he thought it awful for entirely different reasons.

"Maybe we could play later." Harry knew about Quidditch by now. At least, he knew the theory. He had never seen it played, or tried himself, but he was rather reluctant to tell Malfoy this.

"Yeah, maybe. Are you staying all day?" Draco shrugged and began swinging his legs.

"Dunno."

"Draco!" The call was sharp and sliced through the air. The opposite of how head acted towards Harry, Draco instantly stood at his father's summons and left the room. Harry, eyebrows disappearing under his fringe, trotted after him.

Mr Malfoy and Snape were sitting by the fire, each with a cup of tea. Draco halted by the coffee table.

"I have been speaking to Professor Snape about your education."

"Yes, sir." Harry thought it was odd that Draco called his father 'sir', but said nothing. He felt uneasy in the presence of the blonde wizard, and tried to keep silent where he stood a few feet away from the others.

"Harry is receiving tutoring as well, so maybe you could come here and have your lessons with him instead."

"Yes, sir." He's very strange, Harry thought with a frown on his face. He wanted to object: he didn't want to share his lessons with Draco. But he knew he couldn't say anything; Snape would throw a fit, for sure. But surely Draco wouldn't join in on his regular classes? He didn't seem to like Muggles much, and Harry doubted he would want to study their subjects. This made him feel a bit better about it all.

"That is settled then. Dobby will Floo you here three days a week for your classes. You can have lunch with Severus and Harry as well, if that's all right?" Harry thoroughly disliked the way his name sounded in this man's voice, and hoped he wouldn't have to see too much of him in the future. In all honesty, he seemed almost reluctant to be there himself. Good, then you can leave, he thought spitefully.

"Certainly," Severus nodded once. Mr Malfoy stood, and Snape mimicked him.

"I have a meeting with the Minister," he declared. "Might I leave Draco here for a couple of hours? An elf can pick him up this afternoon."

"I'll be glad to have him," Snape replied in the same stiff and cool voice.

"Wonderful." He looked down at his son. "You behave for Severus."

"Yes, sir," Draco nodded eagerly.

"Do let me know if he misbehaves," Mr Malfoy added to Snape, in his drawling voice. "He knows to mind you, but boys will be boys…"

"You can rest assured that there will be no mischief today, Lucius," Snape said gravely.

"Splendid. Good day, then." He nodded to Snape and ignored the children before he flicked some Floo powder into the fireplace and stepped into the green flames. Snape turned from the dying fire and frowned down at the boys.

"Well then."