"You didn't tell him the entire plan." Minvera's tone is accusatory as the pair walk briskly towards the medical wing. Snape had been remarkably easy to read just before the transformation, and the betrayal was clear underneath his rage.

"He would not have agreed to it. He would have risked Azkaban."

"Then you should have convinced him. And you can deal with him when he returns to normal."

"I promise you, I will."

"Oh!" Poppy blinked at the pair, then at the bundle in Minvera's arms. "Is that—"

"A slight deviation from the plan. I think our Potion Master may have brewed something too potent."

If Minerva had part of the full story, Poppy had even less; but considering the experimental nature of the potion, it had crossed the headmaster's mind that there might be negative effects; that, and there was no way Poppy Pomfrey would not recognize Snape. He and his school rivals, as Albus considered them, had spent countless hours in the medical ward during their school days and Poppy remembered every single student, even decades later.

"He may be young enough that memory charms aren't needed at all," Albus hummed thoughtfully, changing the subject completely. He had fully and unrepentantly planned to alter the boy's memories so that he didn't cause too much of a stir. Severus Snape had been a wickedly sharp child and would not have been mollified with an explanation that his parents were suddenly and inexplicably dead. It would take a bit of coaxing of the magical variety to keep him from spilling the secret. There were spells that could convince someone they possessed a completely different identity. And, although Dumbledore hated to admit it, it would be a simple story to tell when he needed to bring the real Snape back; how easy it was for young students to disappear into the Forbidden Forest…

In truth, Albus had not the slightest idea how the potion worked and Flamel had not tested it on a human before. It had worked wonders on all sorts of creatures though, and these were desperate times. The problem now lay in the fact that the effect of memory charms on very young children was quite unknown.

"Does he have clothes to wear?" the Mediwitch asked and it was immediately clear that nobody planned for those minor details. "Well, we have some gowns. Minerva, can you adjust it to his size, please?"

"He's very small," the witch murmured as she charmed a hospital gown. "Does this look too long? It's difficult to tell."

"You can hold it up to him," Poppy suggested and pulled the dark robes off the boy. Immediately, something felt off. Severus Snape was small, but he looked smaller than Minerva anticipated now that he wasn't swimming in the puddle of adult-sized robes. He was skinny, too, almost wraithlike. Most notably, there were dark bruises along his sickly pale flesh.

"Did the potion do that?" Minerva gasped. Severus had looked like he was in considerable pain, but she had never known potions to have that effect.

"I can't think of what else would have," Poppy replied with a frown. "The poor boy. That won't feel good when he's awake."

"And just look how skinny he is!" Minerva added as she handed Poppy the hospital gown she had transfigured to the approximate size of Severus Snape. "He's practically skin and bones."

Poppy's lips pursed into a thin line. Snape had always been skinny, and as a student he often found himself in the medical wing for some injury or another. She supposed he was probably still skinny as an adult, but she had not treated him for injuries in years.

Dumbledore knew for a fact that Severus Snape had always been skin and bones, even as a professor. As a grown man, dressed in flowing robes and smartly fitted garments, it had been less concerning to look at; he was obviously skinny, yes, but it looked like an intentional thing when you couldn't see the flesh beneath.

While the women murmured about the boy's appearance, Dumbledore tried to conjure another version of his plan.

The first thing that Severus noticed when he woke up was the particularly soft bed. And that was odd, because there were no soft beds in his house.

He turned his head and pressed his nose into the fluffy pillow that smelled clean. Very clean. Like real soap and not just something his mother soaked in water and hung to dry near one of the few windows that opened.

Bravely, Severus opened one eye and realized he was not home, and surrounded by strangers.

"Ma?" He squeaked immediately. He sat up, ignoring how dizzy he felt. He wasn't supposed to bother respectable folk and he certainly wasn't allowed to sleep in someone else's bed.

The strangers had been talking quietly amongst themselves but all three turned to him as soon as he spoke. And Severus knew immediately that this was a bad thing, that these people had Suspected Something and took him away from home.

If They find out, you'll go away, Severus. You'll go away and never see Mummy again. Is that what you want? Don't you know what happens to bad little boys who get taken away?

"Ma!" he tried again, his tiny voice a little more frantic, "Ma! Mama!"

"Severus, dear, it's alright..."

Oh no, they knew his name.

"Da!"

Severus knew better than to call out to his father in most situations. He was a man who did not like to be disturbed. And when his attention was on Severus, nothing good came of it.

But, surely, if Da came now he would understand that Severus was trying to get away from these people. That he had not told them anything and he had tried to go home right away. Da would understand and he would be happy with Severus for following orders.

"Da!" He tried again, but Tobias Snape was nowhere to be seen.

He was going to get in so much trouble. And the reality hit Severus like one of his father's punches; he immediately started to cry.

Albus had seen Severus Snape cry three times; once, in his time at Hogwarts when he was called into the Headmaster's office after James Potter had rescued him from a transformed Remus Lupin, only to be told that there would be no consequences towards the self-proclaimed Marauders. They were angry tears, then. He was so full of rage and spite and he had thrown what could only be described as a full blown tantrum.

The second time was when he begged for Lily's life. And the third when he realized she was dead anyway.

This Severus was not crying like his older self. It was not out of rage, or desperation, or unfashionable sorrow. It was a frantic, terrified sort of cry that only came from small children, when whatever situation they were in was likely to be more of the most scary or confusing of their short lives.

"There, there," said Poppy, who had seen more than her fair share of crying students. She put a hand on his shoulder but the boy flinched so violently, she pulled it away as if she had been burned. "Oh, dear. It's alright, love. Will you take a potion for me, to help you calm down?"

Severus fell silent instantly. It was unnerving, as he was still obviously crying . But he was silent, something that only comes from practice. Through his tears, he blinked at Poppy as she pulled glass vials from her robes.

Potions! Real potions! She must be a witch. They must all be witches (plus a wizard?) because she wouldn't just show potions off in front of muggles.

The sudden silence did not go unnoticed. Rather than concern, though, the adults shared an amused smile.

"There now. This is—"

"Draught of Peace," Severus interrupted, and his pronunciation sounds as though he's mimicking someone else. He knows this one, he has seen it in one of Mum's books. And he had begged her to brew it for Da, but she had gotten cross with him for asking.

Poppy let out a surprised laugh. "Yes, that's right. What a smart boy you are. Do you want to taste it?"

He gets to taste it? Severus nodded quickly and leaned forward, the threat of being Taken Away by Them momentarily forgotten. That is, until he reaches a tentative hand towards the offered vial and he gets a good look at the bruises on his arms.

He's not supposed to let anybody see them. Tobias Snape, when he wasn't completely drunk out of his mind, tried to be mindful about bruise placement. But other times, he simply tried to inflict as much pain as possible and threaten more if Severus let anybody see the aftermath.

After all, boys who get Taken Away by Them have much worse things happen to them.

Severus stared at his arm with a wide-eyed panic.

The adults misinterpreted the reaction.

"You had a small accident," Albus supplied kindly. He reached for the boy's hands and Severus flinched violently, jerking backward so quickly that his head audibly collided with the headboard behind him.

"I fell." Severus was still crying, nearly hyperventilating. Over the years, Severus Snape had crafted a persona of smug indifference and composure. Unless he was particularly angry, the mask did not crack. But the child had none of that practiced calmness. He looked genuinely terrified, like a cornered prey animal in a den of wolves.

Unable to give any reasonable explanation for the bruises, Poppy nodded. "Yes, but it's quite alright. We'll get you fixed up in no time." She placed the potion vial right in his line of sight again, hoping to capture his attention like she had before. It worked perfectly; dark eyes locked on the potion and he leaned closer despite himself. "Here you are. Can you drink half of this for me?"

"Are you a witch?" Severus asked. He took the vial and stared, delight mixing in with the snot and tears that were still pouring down his face.

"Yes, I am," Poppy smiled.

"Ma's a witch," the boy said softly, barely above a whisper. He was not supposed to tell people, but this lady would understand. He just knew it.

"Does mum brew potions like this too?" Asked Poppy. She tried to guide his hands towards his face, so he might actually drink the potion, but he flinched again and the liquid nearly spilled.

"No." Severus had turned his attention to the vial again. This was a real magic potion, and he was holding it! "I'm magic. Ma says so."

Minerva already thought this conversation was going on too long, but Poppy had seemingly endless patience for the kid.

"You are. You're a wizard," she cooed, "and wizards are very good at taking potions. Why don't you try that one?"

"Potions are magic," Severus replied, which was a bit like saying water is wet. Poppy simply nodded.

"That's right."

With a simple charm, the vial levitated slightly; not enough to fall from his grasp, but enough to trip towards his lips. Although Severus seemed confused, as he was not trying to drink the potion just yet, he did allow it to happen.

The effect was instantaneous. It was frowned upon to give these mood altering potions to very small children. But, then again, there were plenty of wizarding families who simply made the exception once or twice or a hundred times. A half dose in Severus' already malnourished system might as well have been a full dose. He instantly settled back onto the pillow and yawned, because being scared did take a lot out of a kid.

Poppy returned the cap to the vial and handed it back to the boy. "Would you like to keep this?"

Of course he would. But, there were a lot of things Severus would like to do but couldn't.

"Da won't like it," Severus mumbled. His tiny fingers knotted themselves together at the thought. His father would be upset about a lot of this.

"That's nothing to worry about."

At the sound of an adult man's voice, Severus jumped and his head snapped towards where he had seen the wizard just moments ago.

Severus knew he was a wizard because he looked like a wizard with his long beard and robe, plus a funny hat. Tobias Snape did not allow stories involving witchcraft in his house, but his mother would sometimes whisper them when his father wasn't home. And this man might as well have walked right out of those stories.

But, he was still a man and a stranger. When he approached, Severus shrunk into the fluffy pillow with his nerves fighting against the effects of the potion.

The man looked a bit like Father Christmas. Or so Severus assumed, because he had never seen Father Christmas before. Father Christmas did not visit the houses of bad little boys.

That resemblance was strangely comforting just the same. Father Christmas probably treated kids just fine, even if they didn't deserve presents.

"There's lots of magic here. You're at Hogwarts, a school for witches and wizards."

Severus knew the name Hogwarts. His mother whispered it to him and when she did, she sounded so happy. But Hogwarts was a secret. He fidgeted, tiny fingernails digging into the soft flesh of his palm.

"But Da…"

"Don't you worry about that," the wizard said again.

The only thing that Albus knew about Snape's father was, when the man died a few years back, Severus had only brought it up because he needed to take a day to sign some muggle paperwork. When Albus kindly told him he could take as much time as he needed, Severus had sarcastically asked 'how long do you think it takes me to sign my name?'

He was back at Hogwarts by the late afternoon and Albus had searched his face for any sign of tears and grief. And he found none.

This Severus did look about ready to cry. "Da says not to talk…"

"To strangers," Albus finished for him, "which is very good advice. But we aren't strangers at all. I knew your mother, she attended school here. And she's so glad

Minerva and Poppy exchanged glances, trying to recall if Severus Snape had ever told them his mother's name. Clearly, Albus knew it, but he was Headmaster.

"Ma?"

"Your mother isn't here, but," Albus quickly continued, "she sent you here so we could look after you."

That's an insane lie to tell a child, Minerva thought. It was easily disproved by the fact that most mothers did not send their young children to live with teachers at a school the child was too young to attend. And it was not as though they could simply ask his mother to corroborate their story; she would not only be decades older but they would have to explain the entire situation!

Except that Severus did seem to accept that as an answer. Because his mother had said that she would be so happy when her son was accepted and that she knew he would be happy there too.

"She's at home?" He asked, cautiously. That would make sense. His mother did not often leave the house.

"She is. Now, Severus, my boy. Are you hungry?"

"No."

"No?" Albus repeated, his eyes twinkling. "Not even a little bit? You can have anything you want."

Severus knew better than to ask for food. This was a cruel trick. But Severus was a smart boy and his Da had pulled the same trick on him many, many times.

"No, sir."

"Are you sure? Because I happen to be quite famished.

Oh. So he wanted to play a harder game. Usually, Da would be angry at him for admitting he was hungry. But occasionally, he would get angry that Severus was lying and the boy would get in trouble for not saying yes, he would like a bit of that chocolate bar.

But he had a secret strategy.

"Only thirsty," he whispered, an expert-level move. Water was not quite free, according to his Da, but it is the closest thing to free that he can ask for.

"Just thirsty," Dumbledore repeated with a mischievous look in his eyes that luckily Severus did not know how to read. "That's fine. We'll get you some juice. What kind do you like?"

Juice? Oh, they were rich.

"I don't know," Severus admitted, which was the truth. The Snapes were a water-only kind of household, other than the beer and liquor.

"We'll just have to ask for a variety then, won't we?"

With a pop, a house elf appeared at the end of the bed. If Severus had not been marinating in half a dose of Draught of Peace, he might have shrieked in alarm. Instead, he jumped and pulled the blanket up to his nose so he could watch the creature with his dark, intense eyes.

The elf, however, did not seem concerned by the stare at all. She took her orders from Dumbledore for an assortment of lunch foods and drink to be sent to his office, then disappeared with a pop. Severus stared intensely at the place the creature had been, and Dumbledore let out a soft laugh

"Is this your first time seeing a house elf?"

Maybe he was Father Christmas…

Severus nodded his head quickly, which made him a little dizzy.

"You may see them a few more times. They work in our kitchens to feed all the students here."

"Then what does your Ma do?" The boy asked, which earned a chuckle from the adults, although he didn't think he said anything funny at all. To him, it was a very good question; if elves made food, did that mean mothers had less to do?

"That's a very good question. And we can talk about it after lunch, if you'd like."

"That's a long walk," the mediwitch pointed out, "and the poor boy is very tired."

"True. But won't it be exciting to see the school?" Severus stared intensely back at the man. It did sound exciting, but he did feel incredibly sleepy as well.

"One of you should carry him," Poppy said, and it wasn't a suggestion. "I can leave you with some potions, and the store cupboard is fully stocked if you need more. You can write and I'll come back straight away, if you need it."

"No—" Severus gasped and then, when all eyes turned to him and he realized he had disagreed with an adult, he felt like crying all over again. Poppy, though, seemed to understand what he had been protesting against.

"I'll see you later," Poppy promised. Severus gripped her wrist with both hands, and the woman ran a soothing hand over his knuckles. "It's alright. Professors Dumbledore and McGonagall are very nice. You'll like them."

Severus looked anxiously between the adults, trying to decide which one would be the safest option.

The white-bearded wizard was looking at him with kink eyes, but he was also a man. The dark haired witch was watching him with sad eyes, but she looked a bit like his mother, in that they both had black hair. That was the end of the similarities, but it was enough for Severus.

"It seems he chose you," Albus sighed, pretending to be more offended than he was. But he really had expected Severus to choose him. He was fun! Minerva was nice as well, of course, but she had been hovering towards the drawn curtains for most of the interaction so far.

Considering how skittish Severus was, the witch had expected him to be stiff in her arms. But he immediately melted into her with one hand gripping her robes tightly and his face buried into her neck. But his eyes were still focused intently on her, a strange, unsettling intelligence behind them.

For a moment, while Dumbledore and Poppy spoke quietly to each other, Minerva wondered if some aspect of the adult Snape had remained, or if he had just been a very intense child.

But, she decided, the Snape she had worked alongside for years would not have allowed himself to show any sort of vulnerability, if even a smidge of him remained. At the very least, he would have protested being held.

She couldn't remember her own nieces and nephews acting like him, but her time with them had always been for fun visits or holidays. She supposed, when they were very young, they might have been timid around strangers.

Once the headmaster and deputy headmistress stepped outside of the medical wing, it was obvious why Dumbledore had suggested they eat elsewhere. Severus immediately perked up and tried to drink in every sight all at once; his head was on a constant swivel and his eyes were darting around every second.

And they were only on the first floor, in a rather undecorated area of the castle.

"Is this your house?" Severus asked.

"It's a castle," Minvera explained, "but I do live here part of the year. I'm a professor and deputy headmistress."

Severus knew about half of those words.

"You have two houses," he said, his small voice rising at the last word so it sounded somewhat like a question. Very rich, then.

"No," Minerva shook her head, "this is a castle, and I don't own it. I work here."

She was saved from a very circular conversation by the fact that the castle was so strange and unusual that Severus was paying more attention to his surroundings than trying to argue that castles were probably the same thing as houses, just bigger, and nobody just lived in a house for free. He knew, because his dad spoke all the time about how expensive things were.

The walk was quite repetitive; Severus would ask what a particularly strange or unusual time was (and sometimes he would ask what very ordinary items were, such as the carpet runners on the staircases) and either Albus or Minerva would answer. About half the time when they answered, and especially if someone gestured, he would flinch and bury his head into Minerva's neck. They were small movements but incredibly noticeable to the witch holding him. By the time they reached the stone gargoyle, Minerva thought she would go mad if she had to explain how it worked to a child.

She also expected him to be scared of it, the same way he was scared of the way Dumbledore used his forefinger to point to things along their walk. But when the stone gargoyle leapt out of the way, Severus only gasped in delight.

"That is a gargoyle," said the witch before Severus could voice his question.