Chapter 2: An Unexpected Visitation
"Boy!" Mornings at the Dursley Household were always fun, especially when Vernon decided to wake him up. "Boy! Get Down Here Immediately!" He could almost see the spittle flying from Uncle Vernon's mouth and cringed inwardly. He didn't know what had happened, but a voice like that promised a great deal of pain to him. Still, he rolled out of bed and ran downstairs as quickly as he could manage. You didn't delay when Uncle Vernon bellowed like that.
When he reached the bottom of the stairs he skidded to a stop, surprised by the Potions Master standing on the front mat of 4 Privet Drive. "Potter." The man was sneering, as he usually was. "Gather your belongings quickly and come to the sitting room."
"Yes sir," Harry replied, then scampered up the stairs with the same agility he had used to go down them. He spun quickly into the room he slept in, and pressed his back against the door, closing it gently. He took a deep breath before taking stock of the room. The trunk was in his cupboard, in the cupboard under the stairs. He had been given a generous fifteen minutes to look through the detritus and pull out his hand-me-downs from Dudley, his clothing for the summer. He'd also been told that he would 'get it' if he took out anything from 'that freak school'. Therefore the only magical paraphernalia outside the trunk was his wand, the small potions chest, the invisibility cloak, and Hedwig. The wand was wrapped in the cloak before being placed gently under a loose floorboard, and Hedwig was locked in her cage again this year, much to her displeasure.
He threw all of Dudley's clothing into the main pocket of an old backpack that Dudley said was too small for him. The arm straps were, perhaps, too small for his meaty paws. It wasn't too small for Harry, but Dudley had broken the plastic clamps that adjusted the arm straps, and it could be more comfortable for him. He had also busted the smallest zippered pocket, so Harry threw his wand, chest, and cloak into the middle pocket. After a moment's consideration, he decided that Dudley had never read the books on the shelf in the first place, and put his two favorites, Oliver Twist by Charles Dickins and The Prince by Niccolo Machiavelli, in the middle pocket as well.
Shrugging on the uneven straps, Harry traversed the stairs again, more tentatively this time. He had initiated contact with his prickly professor, but he truly hadn't expected a visit. He turned right at the end of the small entrance way and in to the sitting room. "Sir?" he questioned.
Snape was sitting on one of the couches, with a teacup sitting in front of him. At his entrance, Snape raised an eyebrow. "Sit, Potter. Am I to believe that a backpack and your owl is all you wish to bring with you?"
"No sir," Harry grit his teeth, trying to keep from flushing with embarrassment. "My school trunk is in my cupboard under the stairs. I haven't gotten it because the cupboard door is locked, and I don't have the key."
Snape stood and strode over to the cupboard, wand out. "Alohomora," he said and the door swung open. Harry tried to get away from the cupboard with the trunk as quickly as possible, but not before Snape had seen the faded, messy sign on the inside of the cupboard door that read "Harry's Room", nor some of the pictures Harry had drawn as a young child still living in the non-magical world that were still tacked up on the walls, nor the small camp mattress that still lay on the floor, gathering dust. He had been a spy after all, and he resolved to run through the scene later in his pensieve. This was far from what he ever expected to see, after all.
A minute later, both teacher and student were once again sitting in the sitting room, on opposite couches. Snape's tea had cooled, but Petunia and Vernon both had disappeared, and Harry was much too tense about Snape seeing the cupboard, one he might recognize from the failed Occlumency sessions (which might be on his mind, given Harry's belated apology in the letter he had sent) and one he might draw conclusions about. He was also quite sore and trying not to show it-healing potions often had that effect, which was annoying even if an improvement over the original injury or injuries. "Mr. Potter," Snape began. "Would you acquiesce to leaving this house permanently?"
Would he? Snape had to know he would, especially given that he expected that the professor had drawn his own conclusions. Harry's nervousness narrowed into suspicion. "And the catch, sir?"
Snape cleared his throat, snarking, "You would be leaving here as my apprentice. Until you gained your mastery, you would take all orders from me, and comply with my orders, you will be at my discretion. No one else would be able to dictate your actions, including in the case of your accommodations."
To Harry's credit, he managed to stifle any comments about the latter part of Snape's declaration. "But sir!" His eyes were blown wide equally with innocent disbelief and disbelieving innocence. "I'm horrible at potions, everybody knows that! And you remind me every class just how bad I am. You don't even do that to Neville, and he blows up his cauldron more times than not!"
Snape's countenance darkened into a glower. "Do not feign ignorance, Mr. Potter. I am well aware that you deliberately sabotage your potions in class. I do not pretend to understand your reasoning for doing so in class while turning in exemplary essays, but this behavior will cease and desist. I will not allow it to continue. If your essays are any indication, Mr. Potter, you have talent. I want to see it developed, something that is impossible at Hogwarts for a multitude of reasons. However, as my apprentice your talent would be able to flourish, and you will be free of Dumbledore's manipulations and of this house.
"There are too few people with true potions talent in recent times to let you slip through the cracks. You would kill the Dark Lord-there is a plan for that which involves minimal safety risk, Dumbledore just hasn't seen fit to use it. Then we will remove ourselves from Britain, perhaps Europe entirely. I would have suggested Japan, given on old acquaintance of mine who lives there, had you not already done so. Given the disdain for European wizards often hosted by Asian wizards in conjunction with European Dark Lords, Japan will be a much improved situation for you. It is likely they will still recognize you, but it will not matter so much to them as it does here. Any questions?"
And, for the first time in living memory, Harry Potter smiled at Snape. "When do we start, Professor?" he chirped. Then he started to frown. "And there is a plan to take down Voldemort without risking everyone's lives and Dumbledore's not using it? Why the hell not? And how the hell is there any sort of plan like that? I just keep getting thrown at the guy, despite the fact that he has decades of experience, and is more than willing to curse me to hell and back, and there's a plan to kill him anyway?" Continuing to babble through his rising emotions, "And why me, Professor? Why take me as your apprentice? Surely you'd prefer Malfoy or something. You've made it quite clear that you look at me and see my father, and you hate my father!"
Snape's lip quirked as Harry lost steam, and he began answering his questions with surprising patience. "We will begin to train you for the confrontation of the Dark Lord immediately. You will need to go to the Ministry to take your Potions NEWTs, but with the standard of work I have come to expect from you, that will not be an issue. After that, we can register you as my apprentice. As for the Headmaster, I do not pretend to understand how his mind works, despite knowing him for years. I doubt your Head of House would profess to understand that man, and she has known him far longer than I. I presume that there is a connection between your 'getting thrown at him' and Dumbledore's refusal to use this plan. I, however, do not feel the same hesitance.
"And, as I said before, there is too little actual potions talent that to let you slip through the cracks would be criminal." I also once made your mother a promise that I would keep you safe if it was at all in my power to do so, Snape added silently. He hesitated a moment before adding, "Your father lacked any real talent in the subject, your dogfather and his pet wolf were far better at potions than him."
"As for the Dark Lord...are you aware of the significance of a horcrux?" Harry nodded yes, an answer Snape did not seem to expect. "The Headmaster has destroyed several horcruxes, and we believe that there are only two left-you and Nagini, the Dark Lord's snake. There are few problems that can not be solved by an application of potions, this situation included."
Harry cursed. "Damn it! I was hoping Dumbledore wouldn't think of the possibility I hosted a horcrux." At Snape's questioning facial expression, Harry continued. "I knew it was likely there was a fucking horcrux in my scar already, thanks to some people, and I've got someone helping me to get it out safely."
"Language, Mr. Potter." Snape reprimanded.
"English, sir. I'll attempt to curb the instinct to swear every few sentences whilst I am in your presence, sir!" Harry beamed cheekily.
"Impudent, cheeky brat." Snape's voice held a tad of self-loathing.
"True enough," Harry grinned, "But I'm an impudent cheeky brat with untapped potential that you get to discover first hand."
Snape pressed two fingers to his forehead in a rare outward show of irritation. "What was I thinking when I suggested this arrangement, again?"
It was a wonder that Harry's face wasn't sore from all the smiling he hadn't done in a week. "That you can get one over Dumbledore, and get out of his sphere of influence? Oh, and possibly the Ministry as well."
Snape shrank the school trunk before handing the toy-sized wood to Harry. "You, Mr. Potter, are an insufferable brat."
"You've got to suffer through me, though, and it's your own doing this time, sir! And is brat to be my new name, given the amount of times you've used it?"
"An excellent idea, brat!" Snape smirked.
Harry fingered the backpack, but didn't put it on. "Is there any way we'll have time to get me some clothes that fit? Everything I've got in here are Dudley's hand-me-downs, which wouldn't be too bad except that Dudley has to be a dozen sizes larger than me at least. Everything I've got is worse than what I'm wearing." Harry didn't meet Snape's eyes.
Snape stood up and spoke brusquely. "It is likely that we will have some time to buy clothes here in Britain, or in Japan if you would like to wait." Harry smiled below his embarrassment-flushed cheeks, though Snape didn't see it.
After they left the house, Snape grabbed Harry's arm and apparated them to right outside the Ministry's visitor entrance. Stepping in and spinning the dial, 62442, and stated clearly "Professor Severus Snape escorting Harry Potter for Potions NEWT testing." A pair of buttons fell out of the container. Harry's read Harry Potter, Taking a Test.
The education offices were on Level Two, which was the same level as the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, Harry remembered. They turned down a short hallway and went through a doorway into a small lobby. Harry trailed Snape, who marched up to the receptionist's desk. "Good day, Ms. Weyler," he greeted the young-looking woman behind the desk. "I have Harry Potter here, who is slated to take the Potions NEWT exam today."
"Hello, Professor! Though it's Mrs. Markson now, I got married five months ago." Harry thought this woman was quite chipper despite her talking to Professor Snape, one of the more hated professors at Hogwarts (Umbridge had to take the cake on that one). She also didn't seem to think it odd that Harry Potter and Professor Snape were here together, though the civility would usually have raised many eyebrows. "Let's see...Harry Potter, Room 4. Olly!"
A head of brown hair was poked through a doorway. "What is it, Janine?"
Mrs. Markson, who he inferred was named Janine, called back. "We've got a Potions NEWT in Room 4. Take 'em back for me?"
"Sure." 'Olly' stepped out from behind an office door, and gestured to them. "Mr. Potter, please follow me. Professor Snape, you may either stay here until he has completed the exam, or come back when it is complete, you know the drill."
Harry stood and followed her, while Snape just leaned back and opened up a new copy of Practical Potions.
It was a rather grueling four hours later when Harry reappeared. He had just taken a NEWT without further study than what he knew for OWLs, and his not so insignificant independent study, given the efforts he had had to make to create his little potions chest, the Dursley Survival Kit. Thankfully, he felt he passed, even did well. The final potion was an early variation of Skelegrow, which was more complicated than the real thing but didn't have one of the most expensive ingredients. Harry was quite confident he'd managed it.
And he had, with an 'O' for the practical, and an 'E' for the written, which was understandable because he hadn't really studied for NEWTs, only OWLs, and the potions themselves were what he needed most in practice, not all the theory work. He'd expected to learn that in a NEWT potions class. Not graduate with only one NEWT, in Potions, after fifth year. Snape was satisfied, however, which boded well for him. He knew how Snape was, after all, when he was unsatisfied.
Their next stop was the Potions Guild, where Harry was registered as Snape's apprentice, much to the general surprise, shock, curiosity, wonder, and pity of those who were there to see it. Their animosity was well-documented, after all. "Sir?" Harry asked when they were walking out of the Guild building. "Where are we going now?"
Snape kept walking. "We have time to go to Madam Malkins, perhaps, if you still require clothing. After which we will retire to my home. Muggle London will have to wait for another day, but the potions we will need for our...mutual interest will be complicated and take more than one day." He ignored the onlookers, but he was quite aware that he was in a public place with possible Death Eaters.
"Yes, sir. But sir," Harry raised his eyes under his fringe, suddenly grateful that he was neither required to ingest his potion nor use magic during the course of the day. "Can we make a quick stop at Gringotts? I'm supposed to go there as soon as possible."
Harry avoided Snape's questioning eyebrow at the last statement, and answered with his eyes trailing on the ground ahead of them as the pair continued on to Madam Malkins. "I may have been Sirius's designated heir, and Sirius may have claimed the Headship of The Ancient and Noble House of Black, and there may be a law that applied about relatives who have terms, let alone life sentences in Azkaban." Harry took a deep breath. "With that, there might have been a very interesting object in the vault of Bellatrix Lestrange, which the goblins destroyed, and noticed something similar with me but couldn't do anything unless I didn't use magic for a week or so, so that my reserves could build up and I wouldn't die while they did it if the improbable was possible?"
Snape glared at the boy and briefly entertained the idea of strangling him, before dismissing it. "You live to make my existence miserable, do you not, brat? In the time that I have known you, I have had nearly as much adventure the rest of my life combined. I have no doubt that by taking you as my apprentice, I will receive many more unpleasant shocks and surprises," now he looked at the boy calculatingly and then he smirked, "In a way, I appreciate and will undoubtedly take advantage of your ignorance of this world to both of our benefits, brat, as much as it pains me to have to deal with the situations that undoubtedly arise because of that selfsame ignorance. Let's move along now, shall we?"
They had reached Madam Malkins at this point, and walked in to the well known clothing store.
Once they got 'home' to Spinners End, hours later, Snape sent out a letter by owl to his old acquaintance. The next day, after a much needed further explanation on the subject of horcruxes and the goblins' ability to safely remove his, much to Snape's disgruntlement, they went to Gringotts.
The owl Snape had sent had finally reached its destination-in Karakura, Japan. Urahara Kisuke, recognizing the animal for what it was, shuddered before plucking the letter from the owl's leg, and ignored the owl as it summarily nipped his hand and flew away.
He placed the letter on the table in front of him before backing away a few steps. It was dangerous, that letter. He was absolutely certain of it. Thirty seconds later, after which he was reasonably certain it wasn't going to blow up or emit gases anytime soon, he inched forwards. He still wasn't sure why his danger-sense was tingling, but it most definitely was. He decided he would probably need to read the letter to find out.
His trepidation increased as he first saw the angular handwriting style.
Kisuke,
I will be leaving Britain permanently with my apprentice. I expect to be in Japan fairly soon. I would appreciate it if you would see to it that the apothecary be cleaned by then. I will send a letter when the timing is more pinned down, but there are several factors that must be accounted for before our departure. The brat will be working part time in your shop. I expect that, knowing his father and godfather, he will get along splendidly with your pet cat.
Severus
Urahara pulled his hat further over his eyes as he frowned, contemplating both the work and the idea of teaching a mini-Severus. That was what the letter had basically said, after all: he was to clean up the shop next door and that when they arrived he was to train his apprentice, implying that the apprentice was spiritually sensitive at least, having reiryoku, and being actively capable of using reiatsu at most, though he couldn't imagine that a living child could learn much about using reiatsu.
"Tessai!" Urahara called out with not entirely false joviality as the large man appeared in the doorway. "Can you call Jinta and Ururu in for a moment? I have some new work for them to do!"
Tessai gave Urahara a stern look, and Urahara elaborated. "An old friend is coming to stay in Japan, and he and his apprentice will be staying in the apothecary next door. The main shop will need to be cleaned before he comes, and the living area as well. So I'll just tell them to get to it, ne?" As Tessai left, Urahara shuddered. The thought of Snape Severus-san taking an apprentice was fearsome. The antagonistic sarcasm the man regularly exuded was bad enough without putting a cute little innocent in the line of fire. He truly pitied whoever had to deal with the grump's perfectionism. He did like the man, who was for all his character was a genius at 'the art of potionmaking' and such things, but his social skills were nil.
In Britain, Harry Potter sneezed violently for no reason whatsoever. Snape smirked at him, and Harry scowled back. "What is it," Harry asked sharply.
"Tone, brat." Snape admonished. "I believe that my friend in Japan has received my letter, that is all. Back to work, brat."
Harry sighed, and acquiesced.