Whew, this one had a hard time coming. I've been getting ready for my finals in October, and the de-stressing has always been a random MMORPG. Anyway, new chapter! Yay! I hope you guys like it.

Disclaimer: I don't own the characters and places of the Harry Potter universe, I just like to play with other people's toys once in a while. Flamers will be used to feed my salamanders, and concritters will be used to build upon the foundation of my laughable writing skills.

Without further ado:

Chapter 3 - Of Old Castles and the Men Within

It was getting late in the afternoon. The sun was already starting to set behind the mountains to the west, so when Harry finally got over his nausea, Severus prodded him towards the gates to the grounds.

"The Headmaster should still be in his office. He's usually working until late in the night during the summer," Severus told his protégé. Harry looked up at him with an anxious expression.

"Why would he need to be told about my situation, anyway? It's not like he can do anything to change it," Harry said sullenly. "It's not like he would care."

The last sentence was spoken so softly that Severus nearly missed it. His surprise was clearly written on his face. Trust the son of Lily and James Potter to get behind my façade in just a day, he thought sullenly.

"Why do you think he wouldn't care about you, Harry? The Headmaster loved your parents. They were like grandchildren to him," he told Harry. It was worrying, that the boy seemed to distrust authority figures as much as he did, but Severus supposed he shouldn't be surprised. How many times had Harry tried to tell his old school about the abuse?

"I don't wanna talk about this any more," Harry said, sighing.

Looking away, Severus heard himself say: "Well, even if you don't want to talk now, you may come to me to a later point, even if you don't get sorted into Slytherin, Harry. You can talk to me about any issues, no matter how dumb you think they are. I wont coddle you with lies and half-truths. I hope you understand that."

If he had looked at the boy, he would've noticed the blush and the surprised look the boy currently sported. "I understand, sir. Thank you."

"Don't mention it," was his only answer.

–:SSHP:-

They walked in silence until the castle came into view, and Harry had to stop to take a moment to stare at it in wonder. The castle looked like it was taken right out of the fairytale books that he'd pilfered from the garbage bin when he was younger. Dudley had never had an interest in books, much to aunt Petunia's dismay, but she'd never stopped trying.

Stopping that train of thought before it got painful, Harry shook his head ran to catch up with his dour guardian.

"It's beautiful," was all he could say.

"I imagine it was quite the sight, six centuries ago," Severus answered. "But I can see what you mean. Most wizards and witches will always remember the first time they lay eyes on Hogwarts."

The immense outer doors swung open as they approached the stairs. Harry had to take two steps at a time to keep up with Professor Snape, but he didn't really mind it. An old, stern-looking lady stood at the top of the stairs. She introduced herself as Professor McGonagall, and they shook hands briefly.

"The Headmaster is expecting the two of you in his office," she said tersely, walking towards her own office.

The trek up the stairs seemed to be endless; Harry thought himself in pretty good shape, despite the injuries that were still unhealed, but he was so out of breath when they arrived at the gargoyle, that it wasn't even funny.

The trip through Hogwarts had been quite educational – he had learned about magical portraits, and even ghosts! The ghosts were scary at first, but they seemed genuinely nice. Apparently, if you had unfinished business at your death, and you were magically powerful enough, your soul left an imprint of you to wander the world for all eternity. Maybe there's a ghost of my parents, Harry dared to hope.

Harry was caught up in his own thoughts, so he didn't notice it when the professor gave the gargoyle the password, so he flinched slightly when it suddenly jumped aside to reveal an entranceway. Oh for Pete's sake, why does everything have to be animated? He thought angrily. If it continues like this, it'll be impossible to control my reactions, and people will start to notice!

Severus gently prodded him onto the already revolving stairs, earning him another flinch. He really had to start controlling the flinching, or people would start asking questions. It was enough that the professor already knew too much about his treatment at his relatives', the whole world didn't need to know about it as well. Oh well, here goes nothing, Harry thought as the door to the Headmaster's office opened.

Whatever he had expected, it wasn't the sight that greeted him; The whole office, which was quite big, was filled with hundreds of thingamajigs, in all different sizes imaginable, and they were ticking, or tooting, or giving off other weird noises and lights. Harry was instantly reminded of the one time he was taken to a fair on a school trip. Behind a grand mahogany writing desk, sitting in an ornate chair, was the oldest man he had ever seen.

To any normal pre-teen, he would've come off as harmless, maybe even grandfatherly, but there was something about the way he was staring at Harry, that unnerved him. He couldn't put his finger on it, but decided to let it go for the time being. They went to sit down in the two ornately carved high-back chairs in front of the Headmaster's desk.

Harry's train of thought was interrupted by his Professor, who simply said; "Before you say anything, Headmaster, I am well aware that students are not supposed to be at Hogwarts during the summer vacation, but I felt it prudent to inform you of Mr. Potter's current situation."

At that, Dumbledore, who had until now stared blatantly into Harry's eyes, looked into the Professor's eyes as well. He seemed disappointed about something, but Harry didn't know what.

"Of course, Severus, what is the matter?", Dumbledore said, a twinkle in his blue eyes.

"When I arrived at Privet Drive this forenoon to check up on the reasons why Mr. Potter hadn't answered his letter, I was appalled to find-", the Professor got out before he had to take a break. Harry thought he looked enraged, even though the Professor was good at hiding it. It seemed like the Headmaster noticed as well, if the widening of his smile was anything to go by. "I was appalled to find the exact circumstances Mr. Potter has been forced to grow up in. If you'll excuse my rather frank comparison, he was treated worse than a House Elf in a Pureblood household. Needless to say, I would not stand for it, and removed Mr. Potter from the situation. He will never go back there."

Dumbledore seemed to glare rather harshly at the both of them before saying; "But he has to go back, the Blood Wards I erected ten years ago are needed to keep him safe."

"With all due respect, Headmaster, there is no possible way that the boy can return there. Not only would it be morally and ethically wrong, but the Wills of his parents clearly stated that he should never go there. Due to a crafty Confundus Charm, though, the Wills were not read until today," Severus said tersely.

Dumbledore failed to hide his surprise when the Professor mentioned the Wills, and almost sputtered out the next sentence. "You read the Wills? I see. Then we must take proper safety measures. Mr. Potter can stay at Hogwarts under your care until the morning of the first of September. I must insist he takes the Hogwarts Express like all the other students, though."

–:HPSS:-

Severus nodded. "Of course, it's important to make tentative friendships before the Sorting."

Severus noticed that until now, Harry had been staring fixedly at the desk in front of them, just listening to the conversation. How many positive encounters has Harry had with authority figures so far?, Severus wondered for not the first time today. He seemed completely resigned to just follow whatever plans they laid for him. It was disconcerting, at best. Severus vowed to rid the boy of the habit before the summer ended. He had over a month, anything was possible.

To say that he was surprised when the boy started speaking to the Headmaster, was an understatement, but not as much as what he said; "With all due respect, Headmaster, but it's been a very long day and I'm getting tired. Can we talk about my situation some other time?"

The boy's voice had been tentative at first, as if he had expected to be shut up right away. When he obviously wasn't, his voice got a little stronger. "Besides, I still have to feed my pet runespoor, not to mention name it."

To Severus' amusement, Dumbledore's eyebrows nearly disappeared into his hairline, when Harry mentioned his runespoor. "Of course, my boy. I'll owl you when I've made room in my schedule. I bid the both of you good evening."

Before they'd made it to the door, though, Dumbledore spoke up again; "By the way, Severus, you'll find that Hogwarts has provided your quarters with an extra room for Mr. Potter."

Severus thought that he almost sounded regretful, but nodded in answer.

The trek down to the dungeons seemed to have exhausted Harry, though, he could barely keep up with Severus' strides, even though he'd made a visible effort to slow down for the smaller boy's sake. They stopped in front of a full scale portrait of Salazar Slytherin.

"Asphodel and wormwood", Severus said loud enough for his charge to hear. The portrait swung aside, but not after eyeing Harry curiously. No doubt they'll get along famously, once the demented old founder finds out he's a parselmouth, Severus thought. Maybe the boy will even learn something.

They entered a small entrance room containing coat hangers and a stand for footwear. Straight ahead was the hallway leading further into his den, with doors to the living room, the well-stocked kitchenette as well as the lab, which led further into the storeroom connected to his classroom and office. Harry just stood there until Severus himself began shedding his outdoor clothes, slipping his feet into comfortable black slippers after taking off his cloak and black boots. Harry quickly followed suit, copying the older man, as if he wasn't sure if he was allowed to put his clothes on the rack. With a slight frown, Severus watched the tiny boy getting out of the new cloak they'd bought him earlier.

"Make yourself at home, Harry. I am sure it must be difficult for you to live with a stranger, but I am sure we will manage, okay?" Severus told the child standing next to him. Satisfied at the tired nod Harry gave him, he led him down the hallway. He opened the first door into the living room, urging Harry to enter first.

–:SSHP:-

The first thing Harry noticed when he entered his teacher's living room was how comfortable it looked. Harry wasn't stupid; he knew that the professor put up an icy and impenetrable front to people to protect himself, much as he himself had done in primary school.

The living room walls were covered with bookcases crammed with books on three of the four walls; the fourth wall, which was parallel to the one which held the door they came from, had a large limestone fireplace, which was surrounded by a sofa, two chairs as well as two end tables, one by each chair. In the corner to the right was a writer's desk made of polished oak, as well as a high-backed chair facing them, and in the corner to the left was a small oak dining table with four matching chairs. It was easy to see that only one of the chairs looked particularly worn, as if the professor mostly dined alone. This made Harry somewhat sad, he wouldn't want his saviour to live the rest of his life in solitude, and silently swore to do what he could to help.

Said saviour gave Harry a moment to take in the new room before he caught his attention; "Harry, your room is through the door to the right of the fireplace. I'm sure that there's a bathroom connected to it. The door to the left of the fireplace leads to my own bedroom. If I'm not in here or the lab, chances are I'll be in there, should you need me," he said softly to Harry.

Harry looked at professor Snape before answering with a quiet "Thank you, sir."

Harry was completely settled into his new rooms; his sparse amount of clothes had been deposited into the tasteful wardrobe closet next to the door, his school related items still in his trunk except for his Transfiguration book, which he'd placed on the small bedside desk. He almost couldn't believe that he had his own four-poster bed, he'd never had his own bed before. Even in the spare bedroom he'd briefly had at the Dursleys, he'd only had a severely punished mattress. The heat-box which held his runespoor was on his bedside desk as well, though he hadn't had a chance to speak with his two-headed snake since purchasing it. He'd have time for that after dinner.

They started eating in companionable silence. Professor Snape seemed deep in thought, and Harry held no real wish to bring him out of it. Just as they were both done eating the shepherd's pie, he looked at Harry and slowly said; "It must've been a long day for you, Harry. I know you are about ready to sleep, but I want to talk to you about what happened."

His averse reaction must've showed, because he quickly amended with "At the bank, Harry. I know that what your relatives have done to you is still too painful to talk about, it can wait for another time. As long as you do talk about it to someone."

"Oh," was the only answer Harry could give, but he knew his relief was evident on both his face and in his body language. "Well, I was really surprised about the goblins, but they seem really nice in their own way."

"How do you feel about being emancipated, then?" The professor asked, an unreadable look upon his face. "And are you satisfied with staying here for the time being?"

"I don't know how I feel about being independent. In a way, I've been so for as long as I remember," Harry answered him truthfully. Life at the Dursleys was impossible to endure without learning a few tricks, such as nicking food from the stove and the bin, and fixing broken toys with cello-tape and hiding them under his cot. "And about staying here, from where I was this morning, the day has only been getting better and better. I like it down here, it's nice and cold, and not stuffy like- like the cupboard." Damn, his voice nearly cracked at the last bit. He had to pull himself together, or Professor Snape would cart him off to the loony bin, for sure.

"I'm glad to hear that, Harry," the professor said, looking a little relieved. "I hope the room is good enough for now, or we can go shopping for furniture when we go get your new wardrobe, one of these days."

"No need to go through the trouble, sir, I like the room a lot. I don't have a lot of things, so I don't need any more shelves or wardrobes," Harry answered hurriedly, almost feeling defensive. "Besides, my old clothes wont be needed soon. I don't want to keep a reminder like that," he added wistfully, silently hoping the older wizard would understand his meaning. At seeing the pained look in his face, he knew he did. What was that about? Harry wondered. Maybe he's more like me than I thought before?

After dinner, Harry greeted professor Snape goodnight, and soon he found himself in his bed. He reached into the heat box and took out his tiny runespoor.

"Hello, little onesss," Harry said tiredly. Spurred on by the uniformed greeting the two-headed snake sent back, he figured he would make conversation. "Did you have a fine evening?"

"We did, ssspeaker. Did you find a name for each of usss, yet?" They asked back.

Harry hadn't really thought about it, but seeing as the snake was female, he thought about the elven names that he'd read in a book once. He'd taken the book out of the bin, as with all of his other books, and read it in secret during recess at school.

"How about Tiitania and Sssylvanasss?" Harry asked, looking from the left head to the right as he said the names aloud. He hoped his pet would like them, because it seemed like he hadn't exactly inherited his father's penchant for nicknames.

The snake hissed affirmatively, their bright green eyes practically glowing with amusement at the names. After talking for about five minutes more, the runespoor slid back into the heatbox, satisfied with their owner.

Harry was just about to curl up into sleep, as he remembered the promise to Booker, about speaking with him when they had some time alone. He turned the ring back into the old tome and touched the creature embossed into the front, just like he had done earlier that same day.

"Booker? Can you hear me?" Harry thought tentatively. He hoped that the old tome hadn't overexerted itself earlier, if such a thing was even possible.

"About time, boy! I've been aching for answers ever since our talk was interrupted earlier!" Booker seemed to yell indignantly in his mind. Harry had the feeling they would be playing "20 questions" before he was allowed to sleep.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to take this long. Well, at least I'm at Hogwarts and not back with my so-called relatives, or you would've had to wait until September until I had access to you again, at least if I know the Dursleys as well as I like to think I do. We were talking about my parents, right?" Harry thought. Booker had sounded as if he was getting a panic attack when he had shared with him the old news of their deaths. Apparently, someone not of Potter blood had moved him and gutted the rest of the house to put it into the storage vault at Gringotts.

"That's right, little one. When did they die?", Booker asked sadly.

"Almost ten years ago. I don't even remember them. Can you tell me about them, please?" He hated how pathetic he sounded, but it seemed like Booker knew a lot about his parents.

Harry listened to Booker tell him all about his parents, how they were in school, who their friends were, what they were good at. Booker also told him about anima... Animagi? Apparently, being good at turning into an animal was in his blood. I wonder when I can do that, he thought to himself wistfully. He would start the training as soon as possible, hoping to feel closer to his parents. His dad could turn into a white stag, which was apparently a magical type of stag, known to raise morality among friends, and they were natural leaders. His mother had been a common doe, but he thought no less of her for it. Does were known for seeing the best in people, and make others want to be better, to eradicate their faults. He felt like he was more like his mother than his father, in that regard. His father had been a bully before they had started dating. It didn't take him long to guess that professor Snape had been a prime target. His heart ached for him.

"Booker, how does one train to become an animagi? I'd like to start right away," he excitably thought at Booker. Booker seemed like an old friend already, or a great uncle.

"You start by meditation, Harry. You need to find your core inside your body and meditate on its properties. I can imagine a muggle shrink would be able to tell you after a few conversations, but that would be the easy way out, and it will be much more worth it to find out yourself. It might take a few years to get it down properly, but the trend lately has been half a year of looking for the form." After being silent for a few seconds, Booker added; "Do you need help with meditation techniques?" At Harry's confirmation, he went on talking; "Okay, lad, it goes something like this..."