"Harry, love..." a woman he knew, who smelled, felt and sounded familiar, with flaming red hair, and a man with jet black hair just like his own, looking and smiling down at him with love and life. He reached out a hand and they enclosed theirs with his. He was safe....
The woman, the same woman who had flaming red hair. He looked around, trying to find the bespectacled man, his father. He was nowhere, and here she was, crying, trying to reassure him. Trying to convince herself, too.
"Be safe, my Harry, be safe..." she whispered, her voice trembling as she knelt in front of his cot...
"Jusssst give him to me, woman. Give me Harry Potter!" A dark, hooded man bellowed, and the woman shielded him from the intruder.
"No, not Harry. Not my baby!" She pleaded at him, but the man only screamed, "AVADA KEDAVRA!" He watched as a green light emerged from the tip of the man's wand, then a flash. And silence...
A man in dark robes came in and he reached out to him, trying to ask what had happened. What was happening? WHAT IS HAPPENING?! The man cried and screamed his Mother's name, and when he let out a whimper, the man turned to look at him for long, long moments, but then finally turned away. He kissed the dead woman's cheek, moved a hand to close her eyes. The man stayed there for a long while. And Harry- him, he stared at the man. The man just stood, turned around and left.
Harry begged and screamed for the man to come back...
---
"Potter?" A magical residue had startled Snape from looking over his steaming cauldron. It was a vibratimg, physical force and it tumbled back and forth through the wards. It was not so powerful, but enough for the prescence to be known.
It hummed, buzzed and played with the wards. What was happening?!
And then, just as it came in an instant, so did it instantly disappeared. Snape stood there, frozen and bewildered. There was, after all, no other living being in his house other than Potter. Was it Potter's doing?
He hurriedly waved his wand to put the potion under statis, then proceeded towards the boy's room. It was silent, then a rustle of sheets was heard. Heavy breathing, then panting. Small footsteps.
The boy was awake.
Snape did not hesitate to enter the room.
Oh you little brat! What are you playing at?!
Was the boy playing with magic? But still...
The boy was sitting on the floor, legs crisscrossed and eyes shut. The boy was visibly trying to calm himself, beads of sweat forming on his little brows. His hands were gripping his pajamas and his shirt was visibly wet.
When the boy opened his eyes, there was nothing there. It was a blank stare of green hue and Snape's skin crawled.
A nightmare?!
"Potter? Potter!" Severus called out and then the boy snapped back to reality.
"Sir?"
"What are you doing?"
----
Would he tell the truth? Or not?
It is Snape, after all....
And he is his guardian. He owed it to him, at least!
"I... I just dreamt sir."
"Was it horrible?" It was curious rather than gentle.
"Uh... no, sir?" Snape eyed him for a moment.
"Legilimens!"
Bran stumbled back at the suddem force that entered his mind. It was like those classes at DADA but at least, it was meant to be probing, not harming.
-----
Snape was shocked as he witnessed the layers of the boy's mind. It was solid, and the boy had strong will.
Then, there it was, dark and boding. Green light, red hair and... him. The boy was reliving the night his mother was killed! It was a night like never before, it was the same night that tore Snape into many broken pieces.
And something else. Snape decided for a split second whether to push on, but the solid walls were slowly thinning itself and Snape withdrew.
When he did, Potter's eyes were filled with tears, and Snape's chest felt constricted. He knew the feeling; he was guilty. He subjected an eleven year old boy that no grown man would ever consider the best times. He subjected the boy to something he himself despised.
Just what is wrong with you?!
McGonagall's voice echoed again in his head. This time, he did not allow himself to hate it.
He deserved this.
---
After the incident, his Professor bolted outside the door. Brandon just sat there.
There was no way he could sleep, although he felt extremely tired.
So, he stood on trembling knees and proceeded to write and read, again and again, with no words making meaning, but he was just too tired to fall asleep. Just like the other nights at Hogwarts. He shut the book in frustration and slid himself into the sheets again.
But sleep was not finding him. He sat up, leaned onto the headboard and let his thoughts wander.
His dreams were becoming more real every time he dreamt about them.
What is wrong with me?!
Sometimes, the darker times would get themselves known once again. The night when he was made known of his family's death, the hissing and the pained scar, the three-headed dog, and...
Snape walking out.
It was like the night when the man clad in black turned his back on him. He did not know who the man was, but he would be pained every time he saw the man in his dreams look at him then turn away.
It was like losing his parents again.
----
Unbeknowst to Brandon, the 'man clad in black' was there, drinking himself to oblivion.
----
The next morning, Bran awoke. There was the smell of fog and dew and everything that made mornings morning. He did not know that he fell asleep thinking in the same position. He winced as his neck cracked along with his back. He stretched then went straight to the toilet. He was thankful that the rugs were warm.
There, he noticed what was inside. A fully furnished toilet and bath. Black and white tiles arranged in a neat pattern and there was even a bathtub. A fresh towel was there along with bath essentials. It smelled neat and fresh. He proceeded to do his business.
The next thing he noticed was what was outside the window. It was a wide backyard, and his eyes widened at the varied plants. They were Potion ingredients! He then laughed at himself. He was living with a Potions master after all, was he not?
----
As he was about to go down, he noticed the Professor's door to his was ajar. Brandon decided to close it when he noticed Snape.
He saw the man was on the couch rather than on his bed. Still clad in his black robes, Severus Snape was still holding an empty glass in his hands and a bottle of scotch was on the floor. The room reeked of alcohol and Brandon grimaced. He wished he knew about a spell to clean up the mess!
He tiptoed himself towards the man and checked the time. 5:13 AM. It was early and Snape seemed to need some rest. He seemed to be disturbed himself last night. Bran then went and grabbed a quilt from Snape's bed (still folded) and draped it over the man. Snape's facial features further loosened at the warmth.
At the sight, Bran smiled. No, Snape didn't seem as menacing as he seemed during classes. The sallow skin, the hooked nose were not as intimidating as it would have been should Snape been awake.
Snape was sighed and this caused Bran to smile a little bit more.
Maybe the man just needed someone to warm him. Maybe Snape just needed someone to love, and maybe, just maybe, he could let the love that he was given to him all his life be shared with the man in front of him now, if Snape would allow himself to be loved.
Bran tiptoed his way out of the room.
----
When Snape awoke, he never felt so warm as he felt now. He grumbled as he tasted the remnants of the scltch in his lips. The quilt fell and Severus was about to pick it up when he remwmbered that he drank himself to sleep last night, and he never recalled summoning a quilt.
But then again, he was drunk, was he not? Who was he to say what he did and what he didn't?
He took a bath to wash of the smell of alcohol on his body, not forgetting to wave a wand all over the floor. Satisfied when it became as it was before, Snape put on long pants and a dark shirt and his usual black robes without the cloak. He then proceeded to go down.
As he was at the middle of the stairs when he remembered the blasted boy.
"Potter?!" He called out, his voice a little hoarse.
A series of footsteps, and then Potter emerged, closed book in hand, "Yes, sir?"
Snape thought for a moment what to say, then added gruffly, "You say you're good at Potions, boy? Get the Head Relief Potion."
"Yes, sir." The boy prpceeded to the cabinet and Snape squinted an eyes. How did the boy find out about the Potions?
"Here sir," the boy was holding a dark vial. Potter uses his brains, after all!
Snape uncorked it and downed it with a gulp. He waved his hand and it disappeared, "How did you know where to get this?"
"Uhm," the boy used his index fimger to scratch the side of his head, "I used my sense of smell, sir. After we fought the blo-"
Severus looked at him warningly, "I'm sorry, sir. I mean to say that ever since the fight with the troll, I learned that smelling can be helpful. With 'Mione's help, I studied about enhancing senses. I still can't get it right sometimes, though."
Snape was truly impressed. Enhancement, eh? Truly, this boy, if taught well and if he uses his magic well, will be a brilliant duelist. He knew how to gather information and apply them.
Snape noticed his head clearing and proceeded to go down. The boy just watched him and he then proceeded to summon his house elf, "Jar!" A creature emerged, his clothes looking a bit worn and Snape nodded to acknowledge the creature.
"What would Snape sir be needing?" The elf's blue eyes darted to Bran. He fidgeted at the creature's stare, "A boy!" The elf then looked at Bran curiously, "Jar be thinkin', where has Jar see that eyes, hmm?"
"Jar, this is Potter." Snape said calmy, "He's my apprentice. He's going to live here from now on."
Bran's eyes widened. He knew that Snape only said those to appease the elf from his curiousity, but apprentice! If only if could be real!
" Apprentice? Snape Sir said he didn't need companion! And Snape Sir said Potter. Is this the 'Prentice Sir's name?"
It was Bran who nodded. He stepped to reveal himself amd extended a hand, "Pleased to meet you, Mister Jar. My name's..." he hesitated. Snape obviously did not like him using Dursely or Brandon or even Harry. So, Bran said, "My name's Potter. I'm, I'm going to live here for a while, if that is okay?"
The elf's eyes went larger, "Ohh. He calls me Mister Jar. Me names, good young, 'Prentice Sir, is Jar. Yes, yes, Jar onlys."
"But Mister Jar, I must insist. And please, just call me Potter." Bran flushed at being called 'Prentice Sir', although it was only meant for the elf to quit asking.
"But-"
"Please."
"But-"
"Jar! I order you to just call him Potter, alright?" Snape blurted, pinching the bridge of his nose between his thumb and his index finger.
The elf's shoulder was still hesitant as he nodded, "Oh, alright, Snape Sir."
"Breakfast, please, Jar." Snape said and the elf smiled at the order and disappeared with a pop.
They then proceeded to the dining table and Snape eyed the boy, "I do not tolerate a picky eater, Potter."
Potter looked and said, "Oh no, sir. I'm not a picky eater, Professor." Snape grunted in reply again.
Jar has not yet returned, "You know I was only forced to take you in, Potter." The boy nodded, "And the apprentice situation was just an excuse. Do not let it get to your head, boy."
"I know, sir." The boy was silent after that again.
"Hmm." Snape summoned the Daily Prophet and smirked a little at the headline.
Boy-Who-Lived still not found at Hogwarts!
Obviously, the media was agitated to get to know where the Boy-Who-Lived was and why he was not seen all term at the castle, nor did anybody ever saw him. He did not finish the almost rambling words of the article. Instead, he looked at the boy, his nose still stuck into his book. Snape looked at the title. It was a second year cirriculum Potions book used three years ago. Potter seemed to have seen it scattering along his bookshelf at the living room. The boy was squinting his nose as he seemed to have read and learned something new, and Snape was reminded of how Lily would do exactly that whenever she found something new or something piqued her interest.
Just then, Snape remembered. The boy did not introduce himself as Brandon or Dursely. Why?
He was about to ask when Jar popped and appeared, carrying their breakfast. The boy smiled as Jar presented a bowl of oatmeal and sliced fruits. There was juice and Bran smiled his thanks at the elf appreciatively.
Jar then put a cup of coffee in front of him, eggs, toast and bacon. There was also a jar of peanut butter and Snape eyed the food hungrily. There was absolutely nothing better than food at home!
"Enjoy, sirs." Jar bowed and with a pop, was nowhere to be seen.
"Why did you not tell him your other name?" Snape asked as subtly as he could.
"Oh, uh. You seem to refer to me as Potter, sir. So, I thought that maybe, you wouldn't like it if-"
Something at the window caught Potter's fancy. Snape was about to scold him when he heard Potter murmur, "Snow."
Indeed, there it was. White, cold snow fell outside. It seemed to have been quite late this year, but it was still snow, and Potter's eyes looked at it, unwavering.
"Have you never seen snow, Potter?"
Potter snapped out of his trance, "Oh, I have sir. But you see, sir, it made me think that it's probably my first Christmas without my family, sir. And Mum, my Mum Petunia always loved the snow. She would tell me stories about my other Mum, Mum Lily and how much she loved the snow, Sir. Anyway, where were we, sir?"
Snape would have praised at how the boy seemed to be composed, but how he said it, it seemed so... factual. He seemed so emotionless that it made Snape shiver inwardly. Was he looking at another possible Dark Lord?!
Snape decided to keep silent and the boy, though bewildered, continued to eat.
After he ate, Snape seemed to be bothered by something. He decided to shrug it off. Maybe he was starting to avoid him.
As Bran stood to gather the dishes, Jar appeared again and took the dishes, telling 'Potter Sir' that hel'll take care of it. Bran decided that there was no use arguing with Jar and agreed.
He proceeded to go to the living room and read again, when he remembered the backyard. He called for Sebastian and the direwolf was more than happy to follow him.
"Professor Snape, sir?" Bran saw the man entered one of doors beneath the stairs and he knocked. Snape opened the door with a sneer and looked at him questioningly.
"Well?"
"I would like to ask permission to go out to the backyard, Sir."
"Why?"
"I saw ingredients sir."
"Do you fancy yourself a garden elf, Potter?"
Potter shook his head, "Then why bother?"
"Uhm... I was just... I just want to go out a bit, sir."
"But it's snowing, Potter."
"Sir..."
"You really want to go out, do you, boy? Seems like a brat like you would have your parents fawn over you, hmm? Fine. Do what you want." Snape ended with a sneer and his hand crossed over his chest.
Snape's such a mystery. One moment silent, another annoyed. I asked him politely, right?
The door was closed in front of his face. Bran flinched.
Is this normal?
"Potter Sir?" Jar was behind him in an instant and was looking at him almost in tears. His blue eyes were glittering as if hesitant. Bran looked at him, "What is it, Mister Jar?"
"Please be patients with Snape sir, Potter Sir. Snape sir's onlys upset about gettings yous. He's scareds, Potter Sir!"
Scared? Severus Snape was one of those people who never striked me as someone who's scared.
"Here, Potters Sir. Me's brought your winters stuff. " There was a bundle of things on Jar's hand. His winter coat, his mittens, a wooly scarf with a cap (in Slytherin colors) and even a small trowel. Bran looked at Snape's door longingly. Snape snarled at him about going out.
"Ohhhs! No needs to worry. Never worrys. Snape sir is justs on a rocky moods, Potter Sir. Mes, me Jar just gonna assure Snape Sir. No no no more worries. No no no. Go out, Potter sir. It's the first falls of the snow."
Jar then offered him a reassuring smile and Bran smiled. He never got to enjoy this much snow back at Surrey since Petunia didn't let them out that much, especially in the snow.
Bran put on his coat, mittens, scarf and cap. He then went to the backyard and reveled in the snow. It was just so, so beautiful. Like a cotton, like a sheep, like a beautiful blanket spread all over the land. Although spring was a beautiful season, winter and snow was just the time for bringing out the best in people. Winter was the time for warm hugs, kisses and family snuggles. Even strangers find beauty in the winter. Sebastian went to run in the snow, his tracks visible for a moment then disappearing as the snow covered it.
Remembering his family, Bran closed his eyes. He didn't stop the tears and let them fall. The warmth on his cheeks only reminded him why he was here; he was alone now. No family. An orphan. Yes, he had a guardian, but it was clear Snape loathed him to the very core.
Then, when he remembered Snape, he remembered Potions and Potion Ingredients. He quickly wiped away his tears and crouched to the ground.
He held the trowel and started to dig slowly and carefully. He was delighted to see lavender, belladona and pink roses underneath the now thick layer of snow. It was like Sprout's greenhouse, but more authentic. Back in Surrey, his Mum's garden was one of his hobbies.
-----
Snape pinched the bridge of his nose again. The boy really has a way of irritating him to the end of his wits.
"Snape Sir?" It was Jar, "Jar lets 'Prentice Sir go out."
Snape snapped his head at the metion of 'out', "What?!"
"Your 'Prentice sir has been upset for a very, very long time, Snape Sir! His Magic says so!"
Snape knew that some elves have special traits, and Jar was fortunate to have a Gift of Emotional Sense, "And the 'Prentice Sir is very wise and good and... sad. Yep, yep, yep. Very, very sad!" Whatever the Elf said should be true. Jar was bound to be honest at all times, as all house elves were.
"Sad? What do you mean by sad, jar?"
"Ohh! The 'Prentice Sir is disturbed, very! Last night, Jar saw him. But Snape Sir didn't call, so mes me Jar did not. No, Jar mes didn't come! And Jar saw the 'Prentice sir had a nightmare about a person called 'Mummy'. Does Snape sir knows this?"
Snape nodded. He did. He entered the boy's mind last night, after all. The elf continued with what he had knowm, "And Jar! Oh, Jar's concerned. Yep yep yep! About the 'Prentice Sir! Because old Jar saw how the 'Prentice was called a freak. Uh huh. A freak, freak, freak by mates!"
"What do you mean?" Snape asked.
Freak?!
"The... the 'Prentice Sir had one of dreams, see. Where boys poked at his shoulder and told him freak, freak, freak! Did Snape Sir know that 'Premtice sir was only rescued by his Mum-Tie and Dad-''Ncle?"
Snape's eyes widened, "What?" Was the only word he could mutter. What is this?
"The 'Prentice sir did nots grow up at his Mum-'Tie and Dad-'Ncle. Never, no, no, no. He only had home after Six!" The elf held up seven of his fingers then let one down.
Jar was exactly like his name, a palce for storage. Not only can he sense emotion, Jar can see the past. He was a special elf, one who had more access to Magic. He was given by Dumbledore since the elf was always left alone by the other elves. Jar used to work at the Hogwart's kitchen.
"Goodbye now, Snape sir! Jar hoped that knowings this about the little 'Prentice, Jar hopes that Snape Sir won't slam doors anymore!" With a pop, Jar left.
He left a puzzled, disturbed and guilty Snape. It did ot help that the boy can be viewed, crouching at the now snowy garden, digging amd gettimg Potion ingredients.
"I have to talk to Albus." He muttered until his breath.