As Albus swept his eyes over his Potions Master, he readied himself for a thorough questioning. Severus looked livid, and that was probably an understatement.
"Severus, my boy. Come in, come in." Albus ushered the man inside his office and levitated a tea set in front of him. Snape took the seat, but not the tea. Instead he asked, "Albus, I did not come here to dally. I demand to know what happened to the boy."
Albus stared at Snape, searching for any sign that might reveal what transpired over the day, "What are you exactly asking, my boy?"
Severus definitely was not a boy, but to Albus, he always will be one, it seemed, "Potter. He's different. What's wrong with him?"
Albus' eye twinkle lost its shine almost instantly. Surely, the boy's different, but oh, Albus wished he could've done so much more. The old wizard sighed, "Oh, you have found out, it seemed. Was it... the elf, the young elf I gave to you, was it him who told you this?"
Snape nodded, not trusting his voice to speak, "I shall get on with the story," a dry laugh and Snape fidgeted. It was unlike Albus Dumbledore to give off a laugh as dry as what he had just done, "You see, the Durselys, they had agreed to take Harry but it was a time of financial crisis for them. As you well know, during the last War, it wasn't only us wizards and witches who suffered, but muggles as well. Sadly, it was Petunia's little family who were one of them. The husband was fired from the job and Petunia's little business collapsed. They barely had anything to eat and the husband had to find another job, this time outside the country. Their other boy was almost the same age as Harry, but the Social Services found out that Harry was not their legitimate child and so, they deemed them as unlikely to raise a child, more or less two. They took Harry away and put him in an orphanage, where he became a foster child. Unfortunately, the families where Harry was given to be fostered for always gave Harry up, due to his 'abnormalities'. To this, we can conclude that it must have been accidental magic that has caused young Harry to grow his hair back, or transport from the lawn to a roof. From what we heard, Harry was put in five families that only took children for the weekly stipend. Thus, when Harry would let off an accidental magic, three of these families actually beat Harry. Oh, Severus, if I had only known this, I could have taken him and put him here. Perhaps put him with the Weaselys or somewhere else where he could grow up to be normal and as you say, indifferent. Thank the Heavens that the Durselys had rebuild their lives and was searching for young Harry before it could do more damage to the poor boy. They adopted Harry and here he is now, with you."
Severus only listened in shock. Potter... that was why he knew chores that was why he was silent, that was why his thinking was so matured, and that was why he was tolerable with emotional pain.
"They found him a few months before he turns seven. It was almost too late. Had they not found him in time, Harry- or should I say the Brandon Dursely he is now would have been different. So, so different. Maybe even bothered. Or broken."
Potter had a rough childhood. That was the darker part of his mind! That was the lingering hushed murmurs he had heard as he travelled through the boy's consciousness.
He had just found his family, and they were taken so easily from him.
Oh...
And he must have thought by now that Snape didn't want him. Severus wanted nothing more than to protect the boy and keep him from being broken again...
"Severus, I hope that you won't take this against the boy."
Those were the Headmaster's words before they had their first day of class.
And Snape felt the tight, uneasy feeling again, and he tughtened his hold on the armchair until his knuckles turned white.
Guilt.
He had let Lily down... again.
"Severus? Please, do not judge him now that you habe learned these. I had high hopes that one day, you'll get it out of him. I'm sorry that you had to learn it from me, but believe me, Severus, even if Mister Potter appear strong, inside, he is a fragile, young boy. Piece him back again, Severus."
Snape left without even touching his cup.
----
As Snape stepped through the Floo, he looked around. Potter was not in the living room. He was not in his room or in the library.
Where was he?
"Here! Mister Jar, take these, please." Came Potter's voice. Snape let out breath. The boy was still outside. It was almost time for lunch. Snape had forgotten that the boy was there before he hurried to Hogwarts.
"Uh huh. These will make Snape Sir glad. Uh huh!" Jar's voice was filled with excitement.
"Hmm. Seems like the Professor's still away. Can you help me wrap them and keep them from wilting?" Potter's voice came again and Snape wondered.
What are they up to?!
"Oh, yes. Jars be so, so happy if young 'Prentice sir would make Snape Sir happy! Yes, Jar would help. Uh huh! Help his very best!"
"Thank you, Mister Jar."
Snape had his curiosity piqued at this moment and had forgotten about the boy's life tale. He looked out from his window in his office and was surprised to see Jar slide his fingers over the plants. They were cut in the right parts, Snape mused. The thyme branch, pink rose petals, weeds of different types and even belladona leaves. The boy had done a superb job.
"Cam I have a basket or something, Mister Jar? I want to put them in something presentable, at least."
Jar giggled, "No, no, no, young Potter Sir! Snape Sirs would like it more if put in these!" A slide of fingers and appeared small jars, each labeled according to the type. There were even glass boxes for the more reactive ones.
"Wow!" The boy's eyes shined and Snape's heart constricted itself again.
"Uh huh, wowie wow! Now..." The rest was muffled as the two settled down to work. Seeing the boy smiling... Snape never saw him smile like that. Perhaps it was because he finally saw him in a new light and saw him for what he should be seen. The boy still had the abuse and the loneliness left in his mind, and perhaps sometimes he still relived them at some point.
At that point, Snape heard a knock on his office door.
"Enter."
--
Bran cradled the small parcel wrapped in clean green silk he himself took out of his personal savings. He planned to have it for himself, but seeing that Snape needed a pretty neat cheer up, he decided that there was no good in keeping things for himself. With Jar's help, (a snap of the elf's fingers) the vials were stored in a medium sized box. He promised to himself that he'll learn more potions and how to gather them, maybe even get the Longbottom boy teach him about plants. Besides, Bran did not care one bit about bloods and petty House rivalries.
He shook the snow off himself and got a pajama, seeing that it was cold, to warm him up. He took a short bath under the warm waters and settled for the pajama, a shirt and a black knitted sweater. He then slipped on his All-Warm slippers and combed his hair. Lately, he noticed that his hair was turning quite reddish. Sebastian followed him downstairs.
After this, he took the parcel and knocked on Snape's door, which he slammed in his face a few hours before.
"Enter." Said Snape.
He turned the knob. He found Snape sprawled on a couch in front of a fireplace. He approached and said, "Uhm, sir... I'm very sorry if I have disturbed you. Here, uhm... please, take these. They're a bit... simple, so I hope that you'll forgive me if I do it wrong. The storage was made by Jar, though. I take no credit for it. I thought that you might need a few ingredients! It's my thank you for taking me in."
Snape studied the boy's face for a few moments, then said, "Come closer, boy." The boy tiptoed towards him and Snape touched the silk wrappings. The boy's shoulders tensed.
"Silk." Snape stated, and to his surprise the boy nodded rather excitedly, "I asked Miss Wellington to buy them when they had their Hogsmeade weekend, sir. I was saving it for myself, but..."
"But?"
"But I saw you wearing silk pj's and I though you would like them! Sir."
The boy looked eager. Those green eyes sprung up with such life.
After how I treated him, he was still thankful?
"Hmm."
----
Bran's throat tightened as his professor eyed the silk wrappings. He bit his lower lip- a habit he had when the nerves overcome him. He was thankful that he was not sitting or else, he would have tapped his foot on the floor.
"You really liked Potions, hmm?" The man finally asked. Bran's eyes lit up again.
Of course he does! Potions was so helpful and so delicate and so thorough. The fumes, the smell, the way you stir... ah, Potions was an art!
"Yes, Professor, I really do."
"Come." Snape stood and lead them out of the office then proceeded to open the next door. As the door swung open, Bran's jaw dropped. A potions laboratory!
It was the most woderful place that Bran had been to. It was spacious, it smelled of potions, and it was like coming home. He excitedly perused the cabinets, and sweet Merlin! He never really had seen such wondrous stuff as he had now. Shrivelfigs, gillyweeds, different types of belladona, griffin beaks and even spider legs!
He never felt so happy his entire life. Surrounded by these things, Bran could feel he was invincible. So, so untouchable. Like he could do anything.
Not stopping himself, he ran towards the professor and wrapped his thin arms around the man's middle. Bran didn't mind Snape flinching at the touch, as long as he could show the man how thankful he was.
---
Severus almost pushed the young boy out of reflex as he threw himself at him. The boy seemed so delighted that it hurt to see those green eyes so happy and so content. Truly, he had not expected this from James Potter's spawn. But, reminding himself, the boy had a rough early childhood and now was having a rough time. This was a boy who was passionate about learning the subject Snape himself loved. Would he ever have the heart to defy the boy's passion and crush his dreams? No, never. Snape was still human, prone to emotion.
After a few moments, the boy let go.
"Oh, thank you! Thank you, sir! I can never say thank you enough, never!" The quiet, composed boy was instantly taken away and replaced by nothing more than a boy, a boy who seemed to have received the best gift anybody could give him. It was very beautiful feeling for Bran, and it rivaled the feeling of flying, which was, not too long ago, he considered to be the best feeling ever.
Snape gave him a look of amusement then called Jar to set the table for lunch. Bran had a spring on his step as he followed the man out of the laboratory and into the dining table.
----
After lunch, Severus told his ward (ah, now, it seemed too easy. The word fitted the young, fragile creature that was scampering for dragonhide gloves) to go and get ready. They were going to brew a basic cough reliever that Snape himself learned as a beginner in Potions. The boy smiled wider Severus thought it would hurt him to continue doing so.
It was time that the boy showed him what he actually knows.
----
"Potter, you add the spider legs, eight of them, and stir it thrice clockwise." Snape directed and the boy followed suit. The liquid turned a shade of the blue sky and then a poof! It was now finished as the blue became a darker shade. The boy had done the potion perfectly. He gave a vial to the boy and Potter bottled the small concoction.
Snape nodded and the boy smiled again, "Good. Now, clean up." It was already three in the afternoon and Jar had informed him that tea was ready.
----
As the end of the day drew near, Potter settled to read (again) and Severus told him to do it in the living room, where he himself was staring at the fireplace drinking his tea. The boy agreed and took the book he was reading earlier. The direwolf followed the boy downstairs.
Severus quietly watched Potter as he read silently, his eyes unwavering. The dog was silently laying at the boy's feet. It was then that he remembered what Dumbledore told him that morning.
"Potter?" Snape asked and the boy''s attention immediately went to him, "Potter, I had learned something just this morning. Would you care to elaborate?"
"If I am of knowledge, sir. I shall."
Good. Subtly. Subtly.
"Potter, I had heard that you didn't grow up with your aunt and uncle."
The boy visibly tensed, "As far as I know you were always under their care," the boy chewed his bottom lip and the familiar tapping of his feet on the floor was heard, "If you are not yet ready to answer, I will not provoke you further, Potter."
The boy gulped and the dog now stood on its four legs. Its black fur was sensing how Potter was reacting, "I..."
"I'm sorry." It was a silent statement and Snape sighed wearily. The boy was looking at the floor, his green eyes hidden from view and Snape resigned to look at the boy.
"I was once a foster child," The boy said again, his head hung in such a fashion that could only be described as thoughtful, at least, "Until I was six. Mum and Dad - my Aunt and Uncle, I mean, I had to be taken away from them because they had no money and no papers to say that they had a claim on me. I had to go from one family to another and I had to be 'normal'. It's stupid, I know, but at one point, I wished I was. I was even teased by other children at the Muggle school I was attending, because I performed magic once or twice." At this point, the boy's green eyes were filled with sadness and self pity and his voice quivered.
Severus just watched, "Actually," the boy continued with a dry laugh, "Even before I came here, some kids from the neighborhood were told I was adopted and from then on, they called me as Outcast. I was too smart like an alien, they said. I guess that when I was six, they had a good life, then. All I knew was they found me and sheltered me and named me Brandon Dursely."
Snape noted that he left out the abuses he received, or so Albus says. But he would leave it as it is for now, "I see."
The rest of the night, the pair just sat there, silent.
----
"Freak, that's wha' you are! Heard your only family dumped you 'cause you were freaky! Your real Mummy and Daddy died, am I right, Potter?!" The hands, little as they may, were tightening its grip on Harry's shirt. He was crying, and the the other boy only laughed at this, "The nuns 'ere think your family's gonna go back, but guess what, Potty?" He lowered his face and whispered menacingly, "THEY WON'T!"
The other boy was taller, stronger and he had no face, no other name. To Harry, he was a mirage, the mirage who always comes at night to whisper and drill into his head that nobody's going to take him from this house, and no one was going to love him anymore. He was a bully...
A hand was brought down on his face, and it stung him. Tears didn't fall this time though. Harry was long done with crying...
"Go, wash the dishes, you twerp. Freak! The government's paying me to keep you here, but you earn your keep here with me!" Harry scrambled on his feet. The man, another faceless one, was smacking his face twice, thrice, nine times, and his wife just stood from the doorway, just looking at him..
The belt hurt! When was Auntie Pet going to get him home? Oh, that's right. What did that other boy said? Yeah, no one loved him 'cause he was a freak...
---
Harry opened his eyes, bolted upright and was surprised to find himself on a bed, in a room and without any bruise.
Where am I?
As he scanned the place, he was surprised to see a man, no, not faceless... ah, Snape, wasn't it? Snape was standing on the doorway, his scowl ever-present on his face, but those eyes were filled with questions. Sebastian nuzzled closer and then Harry remembered clearly now; he was not a six year old, not a foster child, but an eleven year old having the name Brandon Dursely, goung to Hogwarts, his mother's alma mater, and he was definitely nit a freak. Most things had answers now.
And he was an orphan, literally having no family, but saved by Snape- his Potions Professor, and the man clad in black. He was in a room in Snape's house.
He breathed out as a sign of relief. No, no bullies, no hand smacking, no belt and no forced chores.
He was safe.
A hand then pushed a glass into his mouth. Harry's eyes widened in fear. In instinct, he struggled to push it away in desperation. He wanted to be out of here, away from the houses who dare to be called home and away from people who dare to be called family. He wanted to be with Professor Snape, with Jar, with Potions. He wanted to be safe.
Professor!
The hands were still fighting for dominance with Harry's own, but he fought them. He will fight even if it meant being bruised and hurt and tossed away.
Professor!
The hands were still there, almost choking him in his newly awakened state. Harry even doubted if it was indeed water. It might be arsenic or any type of poison.
Musting all his strength, Harry shouted at the top of his lungs, "Professor!".