Chapter Three

Harry didn't think his mouth was open, but it was a close thing as the Professor, who people called menacing and scary, attempted to smile while asking to pick him up. He knew he had to look confused and scared, but he was so unsure what was about to happen. He couldn't understand if this was a trick like at the Dursley's, but he didn't think so when the frowny Professor was trying to smile just for him. He nodded shakily and reached up his hands to the man. The man looked pained and sad before the attempt at a smile was back as the man reached for him.

Harry held back his flinch, but his eyes closed and his body shook as the man reached under his arms and lifted him into the air. He tried not to panic or squirm fearing it would make it worse, but all his worries were for nothing as the man gently set him down on the table. He opened his eyes wide feeling shocked it wasn't a trick. He had trusted the man, and it wasn't a trick. His eyes widened, and he stared at the man in awe. Was this how adults were supposed to be or was Professor Snape just not aware of what a freak he was?

The man picked out a stool from under the table Harry sat as Harry took his hands into each other and rung them nervously. Harry knew from the books he read that the little bottles he took out were potions and from Percy that that was what the Professor taught. But, Percy also said that the Professor fancied the DADA position, which Harry wasn't sure if that was true anymore after seeing how wrong everyone else was about the Professor.

He eyed the bottles warily as the man set them out beside him. They all looked kinda icky and thick, which didn't sound like it'd be good to take. The man's eyes turned on him and seemed to soften slightly looking at him. Harry locked eyes with the man before he felt a pinch behind his eyes. It was in the next second that the Professor snapped out of the stool and sent it careening backwards, causing Harry to flinch violently from letting his guard down.

He uncurled slightly and looked up to see the man's face pinched in anger, resentment, and sadness, but Harry didn't know why he'd look like that, unless it was something Harry did. Was he bad, freakish? He had to know so that he could be… apologize to the man. He looked away and cleared his throat to try and prevent his stuttering. "I'm sorry, sir."

The man's face slackened, clearing of emotion like pond water after a ripple. The man shook his head slowly. "No, Mr… Harry, I'm not aggravated at you. I-I would like to speak to you tonight though after classes."

Harry was shocked at first, a detention. He had a detention on the first day. He felt like a failure. How had he messed up so badly. "I-I'm sorry, sir, really. I-I tried not…"

Harry cut himself off, excuses never worked with adults, not even when he'd done the right thing or even did nothing at all. He was the one in the wrong, and he was not to blabber and keep on about his innocence because no one could believe a lying freak.

"What, Mr. Potter, are you apologizing for?"

Harry perked up, looking at the man. Why was he confused? He had just given him a time for his punishment. He was bad that was all that mattered, even if Harry didn't know why. He was still bad. Now he felt confused too. "Sir, you just gave me detention…"

The man sighed, using slow movements to wipe his face like he was tired. He could be for all Harry couldn't tell since the man always looked the same, except when he tried to smile. "No, Harry. No. I just wanted to speak with you tonight, not a detention as you have done nothing wrong. It's going to be about your home, Harry."

Harry felt his body lock up and his heart stop. What about his home? There was n-nothing wrong. No, he didn't need to talk about it. Especially with the Professor, who was still treating him like he wasn't a freak. If he heard… it would all be over. And if they found out… he just couldn't. "Sir, I-I r-really d-don't n-need t-to…" he cleared his throat to rid himself of his stuttering, "I swear. It's fine."

The man raised an eyebrow looking at him so condescendingly Harry flushed. "That makes me think differently, Harry."

His head was shaking before the man was finished. "No, please, it's nothing."

The man shook his head firmly, leveling him afterward with a stern frown. "Just come back tonight, Harry. We'll only talk."

Harry nodded, thinking that after this he would never be able to eat today, not with how bad his stomach was knotting. "Good, now, drink your potions while I put this Murtlap on your scrapes."

Harry nodded, drinking the potions down, trusting the Professor to take care of his pains. Besides, Ron knew where he was, and he was sure the Professor could have hurt him by now anyway.

The Professor was really gentle while tending to him. Even the school nurse who was so kind to him when he was eight wasn't this gentle with him. Back then he had imagined his mother in her place, giving his boo boos a kiss, making it all better. While the Professor gently dabbed his scrapes but firmly held either his arms or hands to steady him, he imagined he was seeing his dad, and as the man patted him on the thigh, telling him, "You'll be fine now, Harry." All Harry could imagine was his dad saying the same and looking at him so kindly. His eyes filled with tears.

Snape

Severus was unsure as to when, but Harry was crying, and alarmingly, he could not recall if that was the first time the boy had become Harry in his mental narrative. It could have been just now looking at the boy with tears falling that he softened his perception of the child, or maybe when he began calling him Harry to ease the boy's instinctive wariness, but the problem was he was unsure which one was the truth. Copious times Severus has reevaluated and realized that tonight would be a long one if he had to go into his shields to dissect all the happenings of the day.

He heard a slight wisp of a sniffle that drew him back to the child, who cried so contrary to other children. There was no noise, no heavy breathing, just sad tears, and a look of longing in too green eyes. The child became preoccupied once more allowing Severus to take a moment to delve yet again into the boy's mind. He saw what brought this on from past and present, the comparisons of kindness to his parents made Severus wish the child could have known life with James and Lily Potter, if only to know how easily love flowed in that house. He felt his blackened heart tighten for Lily's boy, a lonely boy treated by so many without love. The child seemed so starved for affection, safety, and love from an adult, and Severus was struggling to see how anyone could deny such a thing from the child.

Seeing the boy as he did now, he could no longer see Lily and James Potter, standing in the place of their child, who was quite obviously his own person, but he did see parts of them and himself in the boy. It was a sobering assessment of the boy that allowed him to see for himself how unfairly he had been to the child in the past to expect the boy to be his father or his mother. It was unfair to the boy, and it was unfair to the memory of the friendship he had with Lily. He would be better to the child.

He reached out a slow hand and grabbed the boy's shoulder gently before pulling the child forward. They were inches apart when Severus made his attempt at a smile and looked into those green eyes with sincerity. He was uncertain how to say this, but he would have to tap into his unused emotional maturity. "I wish I could have had a son as sweet, smart, and brave as you, Harry. Your own parents would have been as proud to have seen the boy you are today. I am just sorry that you never got to experience that for yourself."

Severus watched the boy shake as he nodded to Severus, spilling more tears down his cheeks as a smile shown on his reddened face. The boy pulled away from him, showing his reluctance in the way his body angled toward Severus, unconsciously or not, seeking comfort in the man. Too many actions from the boy were alarming and wrong for his age, and even the possibility of another arrogant bully was a better thought for Severus than the alternative of another abused child.

The boy had finished crying and was wiping his eyes with his cloak. Severus tutted and held up his handkerchief, allowing the boy to reach on his own rather than to cause another reflexive flinch from the obviously upset child. He was also not looking forward to the way his blood would boil at the thought of why the boy had to develop that reflex. He watched as the boy wiped his eyes and held the handkerchief with unease. Severus patted the child's foot to calm the unease before it escaped the boy's emotional grasp since they both had classes soon and the boy still had to eat, they had no time to waste on more tears. Their initial meeting was coming to an end soon, meaning he needed to speed along.

He went to his desk, writing in a note to tell the teacher that 'Potter' (he needed to remember to use Potter) had been discussing a detention. He had no need to ruin his reputation with the teachers or the students. He could admit that he would allow it with Harry, but that was it. He turned to see the boy still holding the handkerchief like it would bite him. "Keep the handkerchief, Harry, and you will stop using your clothes to wipe away whatever happens to get on you, do I make myself clear?"

The child nodded before sticking the handkerchief into a robe pocket and looking back to Severus with a smile. How a hanky could please the boy, Severus would never know. He sent an order to the kitchens before moving back to his charge. "Now, Harry, you will sit on that stool and eat the lunch I have ordered you at as slow a pace as necessary before I send you to your next class with a note to pardon your absence. Understand?"

The boy looked ready to argue, a change of pace, but instead of his typical angry glares, Severus sent the boy a muted stern glare that deflated the boy easily. Severus smirked as he went over to the boy and picked him up just to plop him down onto the stool he had been sitting at during their discussion. The lack of flinching and shaking from the boy reassured him they were coming forward in their interactions. He would just have to be patient.

He left the boy on the stool, trusting the calm, quiet boy to sit still in his lab while he called a house elf and had it bring some porridge with fruit and honey for the boy with milk to drink. He was going to have the keep the meals light for the boy since he had barely eaten anything beyond table scraps for most of his life. He returned to the boy just as the food arrived and sat on one of his other stools near the child but far enough away to put him at ease.

He watched out of the corner of his eye as the child ate slowly. He could discern quickly the boy's lack of coordination with the cutlery. He could imagine how they must have made him eat, but thinking on it was only going to make him angrier. He would just have to teach the boy himself. He would bring it to the boy's attention if he was not so sure that the knowledge would make the boy stop eating from embarrassment. He would have to wait for more trust and a better time.

The child finished more than half before putting down the silverware and glancing warrily between the bowl and Severus. Severus only nodded his head to the milk, and like the good child Severus was finding the boy to be, he chugged it down obediently. With his small countenance, Severus would not have suggested that, but the boy needed the calcium. The boy turned to him with a nervous smile on his lips and those skeleton like hands fluttering. "T-thank you, sir. I was pretty hungry, I guess. Um, w-will I need to go clean up that blood before class?"

Severus hid the exasperation he felt from the child as he shook his head. The boy really was too good or possibly trained for his own health. "No, Harry, house elves have already most likely done so. You only need worry about getting to class, understand?"

The boy's brow furrowed before he flushed and stared at him own swinging feet. "Uh, sir, I don't know who I have next."

Severus's brow arched at his confusion. How would the boy not know what class he has next? Did he not receive a schedule? Had Minerva really been that remist in her Head of House duties as to not hand out schedules and maps to her first years? Was she really that inadequate? If so, they would be having a conversation soon, but first, the boy.

"Did you not receive a schedule, Harry?"

Harry

Harry felt his whole body flush. He couldn't tell the man he couldn't see, he'd make fun of him just like Malfoy did. "Uh, Ron has it, sir."

The man's eyebrows rose in belittlement again, and Harry felt his eyes water while his temper rose. He really didn't want the only kind adult he had met here to make fun of him. "Harry, why would Mr. Weasley have your schedule?"

Harry realized there would be no mocking, just condescension. It made his temper flare a bit more. It wasn't a stupid idea to leave the bloody thing with Ron when he couldn't even see what was written on the bloody paper. "I can't see it, sir," he muttered to his feet.

The man tapped his shoulder, and Harry looked up to see confusion pass over the man's face and leave in its place caution. "You can't read, Harry?"

Harry looked at the man in outrage and felt hurt deeper down. "No! I can read! I'm not stupid!" he said as his anger started to fizzle out. "I-I just can't see the words… they… they just look all blurry," he muttered to the man's feet this time.

He received the tap to his hands and realized they were intertwined again. He pushed them away from each other and looked back to the man. His professor nodded and moved slowly to stick his hand out to Harry. Harry appreciated how slow and deliberate the man moved as it kept him from worrying about the need to avoid a hit by flinching. "Hand me your glasses, Harry," the man said to Harry's surprise.

He felt nervous about handing over the only glasses he had ever had. They were his only way to see even a small amount better. Without them he couldn't even walk without bumping into things. "Harry, I only want to fix them where you may see and then this weekend we will go get you new glasses," the man interrupted his train of worry.

Harry's face slackened and his mind scrambled to comprehend what the man just told him. Why would an adult care about him and if he could see? Why would he help him? "I… but, sir… I don't think…"

"No, you don't, Mr. Potter. You don't think I would help you out of the kindness of my heart, and that is where you would be right. Thankfully, I am not a Hufflepuff, I am a Slytherin, and what I am doing is completely for my own self-interest. You see my class is a dangerous one, and I cannot have some arrogant pompous child thinking he can work around in my lab while unable to see and endangering his and everyone else's lives."

Harry shook his head. He really didn't want that to happen, and by the man's tone, that would be the end of their kind relationship. Harry yanked the glasses from his face and nearly threw them at the man. He couldn't dare to think he hurt anyone or make the professor hate him. He didn't believe that was the only reason the man was helping him, but the man had a point.

The man used his wand to cast spells over the glasses and toward Harry's eyes. That one kind of stung due to the light shining in them, but he wasn't one to complain. Finally, the man seemed to be finished and handed Harry back his glasses. He took the meekly and slowly put them onto his face, expecting them to maybe bite or in some way hurt him after having spells he didn't know put on them.

They settled on his face, and he was pleasantly surprised and filled with wonder at the world he could now see. His professor had a large nose was his first thought, but he didn't mind. The man's nose looked good on his sharp featured face. Harry's jaw went slack though when he finally took in the rest of the room. There were things, stirring rods, and they were stirring on their own. There were so many things he didn't know were there before and so many details he could now see, even his own hands seemed foreign to him.

His head felt fuzzy as he took in more details than he knew existed. A giggle built up in his throat, spilling forth when he could see the small smile on Professor Snape's face. "Sir, I can see."

The man nodded slightly. "So you can. I expect a certain level of work ethic and completeness from you now that I am sure you can correctly see what is in front of you, and in my class, I will not allow you any slack. I have not done so with anyone to this day, and I will never do so with you."

Harry sobered and nodded his head avidly. He would be the best wizard to ever potion a potion or was it make or whatever it was he would do it perfectly, just to please his professor. If Percy was right, he would try to be the best at defense too since the Professor was supposed to like it too. That way Professor Snape would still be kind to him.

Harry watched the man walk to the front of the room and write on something. He waited on his stool since he assumed the man would have dismissed him if they were finished talking. He envied the way the man wrote with the quill. He knew he would have trouble with it when he finally had to write with one, but he hoped someone would teach him how before he had to turn in an essay. The professor walked back over to him and handed him a scrap of parchment. Harry's face scrunched in confusion before looking down at the clear words. The ability to see distracted him from actually reading what the note said.

"As you can see," the Professor broke in with a slight smirk, "the note dismisses you from the amount of class you have missed so far. It says that the reason was to discuss a detention, and I would rather you say it was for that reason as well if anyone questions you."

Harry's face fell. It had seemed for a second like his professor was looking out for him and liked him, but really the man didn't think him special at all. He wanted people to think that he didn't like him and that he had been a bad boy already. Well, he'd say that was what happened if that was what the professor wanted, and maybe that would pay the man back from being so kind to him.

The man placed a hand on his shoulder, and even though the movement was just as slow and deliberate as usual, Harry still flinched away. Harry could see out of the corner of his eye that the man's face was filled with confusion and concern, but Harry obviously needed to stop thinking of that as the man caring. He was just being a dumb little kid looking for someone to like him. "Harry, what's wrong?"

He looked down, avoiding eye contact the professor was trying to make. "Nothing, sir."

The man scoffed and grabbed his chin gently, bringing his face upward. He looked stern and concerned, and Harry's face dropped along with the tears from his eyes. Why was he such a baby? It was just one teacher. He could find another. He didn't even need one to be nice and to like him. He had lasted ten years without anyone doing that. He really didn't need anyone. Really.

"Mr. Potter, I think you are bothered by my telling you to lie, and I have never made it a habit of explaining myself to anyone, certainly not to children, but in this case, you will be my exception."

Harry perked up at that. He was the exception for the professor to do something he hated. He was an exception. That meant something. It had to mean something.

Snape