"He would have hated this." This was meant to cheer Minerva up, as she was battling sobs. But instead, she buried her face into a handkerchief. Albus thought, at first, that she was acting. But Minerva was not nearly that good an actress. "This isn't real," he reminded her, his voice barely a whisper. Minerva shook her head.

"But it is. This," she waved her hands around them, at the professors and former students, and current students who had either been dragged by their parents or perhaps genuinely asked to attend. She recognized many families who had children in Slytherin, but other houses were present as well. Molly Weasley, for example, had wrangled her entire family into coming. "This is very real."

Some of the Hogwarts staff remained stoic; funerals were serious affairs and even if Snape had not been particularly close with some of his colleagues, they could keep up appearances in front of students and strangers.

Others, like Hagrid, were inconsolable. Dumbledore had never seen the two men exchange more than a few words to each other at a time, but he supposed he didn't keep tabs on Snape all hours of the day. Either they were friends or, more likely, Hagrid had too big a heart.

"He would have been offended about the price of that coffin alone," Dumbledore tried again. Lucius had apparently spared no expense and as a result, the funeral fit perfectly into Malfoy standards; overly extravagant and far too expensive. Severus Snape was not frugal but he wasn't that gaudy. Minerva swallowed her sob and tried to laugh.

"He would have compared it to its price in cauldrons," she agreed.

"Oh, it's worth at least seventy cauldrons."

Albus gave a speech. It was a very good one, as all his speeches were, and he rather selfishly hoped that Snape would have blushed had he heard it.

Severus Snape was laid to rest. And then Albus and Minvera returned to the castle, where Severus Snape was waiting.

Severus was used to being left alone. His father left the house on most days — not always to go to work, because sometimes he didn't have a job — and his mother, who did not work, usually locked herself in the bedroom and slept. That gave Severus a lot of free time but not much to do in said free time.

His father did not like to read, but his mother sometimes did. Her books were hidden in the cleaning cupboard, along with her wand and some remnants of her life before Tobias. This was a great hiding place because his father hated cleaning even more than his mother did. Severus loved to look at the books, but he was only allowed if his mother fetched the book herself. And she very often was too tired to do so. But, sometimes, she handed him a book to look over while she stayed in her bedroom. Severus had scanned the words countless times and developed a vague grasp on the English language. He could read, or at least sound out words, better than kids years older.

The castle had a lot of books. They even, allegedly, had a library full of books that you could just take. Albus, who owned children's books for his own pleasure because he found them entertaining, had happily provided a small stack of Severus to look over. He had ensured they all contained mostly pictures and promised to read them to Severus when he returned from whatever outing they had planned. They had not mentioned the funeral, and Severus would not have known the word even if they had.

But Severus didn't need to wait for a grown up to read to him. He lay on his belly with Fantastic Beasts and Where To Find Them laid out on the couch. He knew this one, because his mother owned a copy too. He had taken it directly from one of the bookshelves, rather than the pile of books left for him. He traced his finger along the words, sounding out the now-familiar sentences and taking his time to stare at the illustrations of grotesque monsters. There were some very good ones, with just enough blood to emphasize the ferocity of a monster without being overly gruesome and scary.

This is how Albus found him when he returned to his office. Minerva had gone straight to her quarters to wash the sadness of the funeral off, but Albus still had a spring in his step. When the door to his office opened, Severus scrambled to his feet and snapped the book closed, hiding it under a pillow for good measure. Then he stood, wide eyed, as Albus smiled at him.

"I see you've gotten into the books," he said casually. Severus visibly flinched.

"You said…" he protested quietly, "you said I can."

"Quite right." Albus' smile did not waver but he could see the boy was tense. "I'm glad you did. I've been meaning to look these over again. May I join you?"

The boy looked genuinely surprised. Dumbledore had to admit that seeing that so expressive was a welcome change; Severus Snape had always been closed off as an adult, and rightly so. But the young boy was easy to read, easier than his school-aged self had been. Since the boy did not respond, Albus only took a few steps closer and spelled the book out from under the pillow, its pages fluttering open to the place Severus had stopped.

"There now. Did you learn anything interesting?" Albus laughed. After a moment's hesitation, his dark eyes focused on Albus for any sudden moves, the boy sat back down on the couch and curled over the book.

"The man-ti-core is a highly da-n-ge-r-uss Greek beast," Severus recited very slowly, his finger skimming along the letters although his tone indicated that this phrase might have been something he memorized, even if his pronunciation was off, "with the head of a man."

"Are you reading that by yourself?" Albus was rarely amazed, but this certainly caught him by surprise. "Why, that's impressive!"

"And the body of a li-on," Severus continued, though he was smiling with a dark blush on his cheeks, "and the tail of a sc-o-r…rop…"

"Scorpion," Albus supplied.

"Sc-or-pi-on." Severus repeated.

"What a brilliant boy you are." Albus breathed and he really, truly meant it. Snape was undoubtedly a talented wizard, but Albus had honestly never thought to consider the boy that came before the man.

"Ma says I'm special," Severus admitted shyly.

"And you are," Albus agreed. "Not many boys your age can read. Most children don't enjoy it at all, I'm told."

"I like this," Severus said, pointing to the illustration of the manticore mauling a man, with another man reduced to separated limbs in the foreground. "He killed them."

Charming.

"Well, do you know what creature I like the most?" Albus sat beside Severus, who immediately pushed himself closer as the book levitated before them. With a wave of his hand, the pages landed on an illustration of a large red bird. "I like the phoenix."

"Phoenix?" Severus repeated with a puzzled frown. That was not how he had pronounced the word.

"A p and h together makes an f sound," Albus laughed, "That's odd, isn't it?"

"Yes," the boy agreed. Then he repeated the word phoenix, the correct way, to see how it felt on his tongue. He liked it.

"Do you know why I like phoenixes?" Asked Dumbledore. Severus, who had no way of knowing, shook his head. "Because I have a very good friend who is a phoenix."

That sounded absolutely ridiculous to the boy. He peered up at Albus through a curtain of hair, clearly skeptical.

"It's true. We've been friends for a long time."

As if on cue, a very large bird sailed in through a window at the top of the very high ceilings. Fawkes, like Dumbledore, loved a dramatic entrance and the old wizard half-suspected the bird had been waiting in the wings for the perfect moment to show himself.

"There he is now," Albus said with a twinkle in his eye. "Would you like to meet him? He's a very friendly bird."

Fawkes was a highly intelligent bird. He had met Severus Snape many times before, and recognized the boy instantly. He was, after all, very familiar with the concept of being reborn and it did not bother his bird brain that Severus Snape looked entirely the wrong age. He lowered his head and closed his eyes in preparation for being pet.

"Pet him very gently," Albus murmured, "he's quite the old man, like myself. There you go."

Fawkes nuzzled the small hand and Severus could not contain the delighted gasp that escaped him.

"He likes you," Albus twinkled.

"I like him," Severus replied, never taking his eyes off the bird. "Hi, Fawkes. Hi."

"I see you are getting along." Minerva had changed her clothes and washed her face, and so she did not look like she had recently been crying her eyes out. Severus jumped at the sound of her voice and only marginally relaxed when he recognized the woman. She had a small shopping parcel with her which she set on the headmaster's desk.

She had expected Severus to at least comment on the fact that he was being forced to wear what would have seemed like girl's clothing to a boy of his age and upbringing; muggles, she knew, rarely put their little boys in nightgowns or robes anymore, and certainly would have avoided anything in the pink and purple categories. But Severus had accepted all of Dumbledore's clothing choices without even a raised brow. And they had been interesting choices indeed, as if Dumbledore was outfitting a little version of himself; whimsical and rather garish prints on brightly colored robes and tunics. But, two could play that game. Although she was also a fan of wizard fashion, her choices were more subdued. And she thought she knew what kids these days wore. She unpacked a few sets of tops, and relatively plain robes, while Severus watched her like a hawk.

"Fawkes gets along well with everyone," Dumbledore replied, which was not true. Fawkes disliked a good number of people and let them know it. Usually by biting. But he had been tolerant of Snape, as an adult, perhaps because Dumbledore himself was.

"He's nice," Severus added, so he could be included in the conversation as well.

"Did Fawkes keep you company today?"

"I fear he only just arrived. Sev was engaging in intellectual pursuits."

"Was he?" Minerva raised a brow. Severus was still staring at her, and she couldn't imagine the boy had understood that sentence at all. But, if Dumbledore was speaking in code, it was one she didn't understand. "How do you mean?"

Rather than answer her directly, Dumbledore winked at Severus, who had only turned to look at the man only because Minerva had asked him a direct question.

"Can you tell me what this says?" Dumbledore asked as he spelled a book from one of his towering book cases. It landed on his desk and the boy leaned forward nervously.

"How…to…tr…train…ti-g-ers." Severus said slowly. He pronounced both vowels in train separately, then pointed confidently to the tiger on the cover. "That's a tiger."

"That is remarkable," Minerva had a hand to her chest. She locked eyes with the bright blue ones staring back at her. "You didn't teach him that, did you?"

"Not at all. It seems Severus is just a particularly smart young lad."

McGonagall leaned over the desk. She was still somewhat convinced it was a trick. "How did you learn to do that?"

Severus had no recollection of learning how to sound out words at all. Most people cannot remember a time before they understood something and children, who have a loose grasp on the world at large, also lack the words to describe it, even if they could remember.

"The letters make sounds," he said after a long moment of deliberation.

"Yes, I know," the witch nearly laughed. Still, it was a remarkable thing. Every student in her memory who attended Hogwarts knew how to read, as they started at age eleven, but she still knew that it was not a skill most toddlers possessed. "You must have a lot of books at home."

"No. Only secret ones," Severus explained cryptically as he flipped through the book. "So I'm allowed. If I'm quiet. There's no pictures in this," he added, because he had hoped to see some tigers in the book about tigers.

"You're quite right. Let me find you something else." Dumbledore scanned the many books lining the wall. Unfortunately, many of them were old, boring, and not filled with any pictures at all. "Are you interested in the history of gobstones?"

"I dunno," the boy admitted, "what's that?"

"Nobody except you is interested in that," said McGonagall with a laugh, "I'm surprised you don't have any children's stories here."

"Have you forgotten who you're talking to?" Dumbledore twinkled and a pile of books began to form, floating from different bookshelves, and the pile Albus had selected for the boy previously, until it towered over them. He took one from the very top of the pile.

"I suspect I won't need to look at the pages of this at all, I've read it so many times," he began, flipping through the pages to show Severus that there were illustrations in the book he selected. "Tell me, have you heard any of the tales of Beedle the Bard?"

Severus hadn't. Albus told the stories with a theatrical flair, with much ad-libbing, and the boy thought that he was much better at reading than his mother had ever been.

I like to think that Sirius Black was exaggerating that Snape knew more curses than seventh years before even starting at Hogwarts, but I also like to think that he did have to teach himself a lot as well. I don't think Eileen was very active in cultivating his intelligence. I think she probably felt very defeated (hence why Severus thinks she just sleeps all day)

Shout-out to Dumbledore for leaving him alone all day, again, after he already tried to leave once. Don't worry, he just told the gargoyle not to let him out.

I left author's notes on earlier chapters for my posting on AO3, but not here. So, I would like to say...yes, Albus and Minerva are terrible at recognizing why Severus is acting this way. This is intentional for the story, at the start, because I think it would be very difficult to allow yourself to realize that your adult friend was not just somewhat unpleasant as a quirk, but had experienced a lot of trauma in their life. Especially because McGonagall and Dumbledore had also been his teachers and at one time were responsible for him. Imagine that they were being sort of willfully ignorant, because it's hard to admit you're wrong. But don't worry! They'll have to deal with it more directly soon...