The Boy Who Almost Wasn't

Chapter 4: Maybe, Maybe Not

Thoughts

ooOoo

"Who are the Malfoys?" asked Ebon, tilting his head back so he could see his father's face.

"Purebloods," answered Snape.

"Huh? Pure whats?"

"The opposite to you."

"Oh," said Ebon, suddenly finding the pavement and his feet very interesting.

Snape sighed and grabbed hold of his offspring's shirtsleeve. Turning the boy to face him, the Potions Master searched Ebon's eyes. Apparently, he found what he was looking for, because Snape sighed once again and released the youth. "I didn't mean it like that," he said. "I just meant that the Malfoys are a very rich, very old family."

"Wha', an' Snapes aren't?" asked Ebon in surprise.

"Yeeesssss," agreed Snape slowly. "But you're different. Your mother was a Mudblo... Muggle-born," explained Snape with a slight cough.

"Ya mean she wasn't a witch?"

"No, she was a witch all right, but her parents weren't," corrected the dark haired man carefully.

"Wha,' so people worry 'bout that sort of thing?! That's jus' crazy," scoffed Ebon, shaking his head at the stupidity of the human (or, more specifically, wizard) race. He glanced down at Ash, rolling his eyes at the feline. Ash simply stared back.

"No it isn't!" protested Snape. "It makes sense when you really think about it."

"When I really think about it, I really think I should walk away an' hide," said Ebon.

"Look," continued Snape doggedly. "Too many Muggle-borns will mean more half-bloods and..."

"Half-bloods?"

"That's what you are. It means one parent - your mother in this case - was a Muggle, or Muggle-born."

"I still think it's bloody stupid. I mean if ya gotta be discriminative 'bout someone, couldn't ya choose somethin' better ta be discriminative about? Like foreigners for example, or people who crack stupid jokes? I'm sure you'd find plenty of them sorts round 'ere, an' at least they're worth sneerin' at. Well, more the people who make lame-ass jokes I suppose," amended Ebon. "Some of them should be shot an' buried, like their wise cracks were afore they opened their mouths," said the dark haired youth, thinking of one particularly annoying boy he'd been forced to share a room with in the orphanage.

"Yes, well, be that as it may, most purebloods share the view that half-bloods, Muggle-borns, Squibs - yes I'll tell you later - and Muggles are inferior."

"Do you?" asked Ebon bluntly.

Snape was beginning to wish he'd never started this difficult conversation with his overly perceptive son.

"I don't know," the Potions Master replied honestly.

"Hell! Why not?" exclaimed Ebon angrily. Ash hissed in surprise at the sudden noise.

"You couldn't possibly understand," said Snape, a note of desperation faintly ringing in his voice.

"Righ'. There's a lot I don' understand in your reckoning, 'aint there?" Said the youth accusingly.

"Don't you dare stalk off again!" ordered Snape, realising his son was almost ready to do just that. "I refuse to wander around all night trying to find you again. In fact I'm beginning to feel it might be simpler to just cast a Full Body Bind on you and be done with it."

"A body bind? Don't think I like the sound of tha'," commented Ebon warily.

"You shouldn't. The Full Body Bind is, in the wizarding world, generally agreed to have all the stopping power of a well-aimed half brick."

"Oh, splendid," Ebon said sarcastically. "Okay. You an' me both know ya couldn' care less if I live or die. So ya migh' as well let me get on with me life, an' stop threatenin' me with bricks."

Snape regarded Ebon mournfully, trying to work out how to get through to the stubborn youth. It wasn't so much that he was overly fond of him (for the god's sakes, he'd only met the boy a few hours ago). It was more that he now felt responsible for Ebon. Whatever other faults he might have, Severus Snape never shirked away from a responsibility.

"Look here Potter," began the Potions Master finally. "I've only known you a couple of hours, and already you've annoyed me more than a school full of incompetent brats ever could, and caused me more grief than one of those gun thingies that muggles are so fond of, could to a small room-full of rabbits. So don't you go telling me that I couldn't care less whether you lived or died, or you'll be doomed to disappointment. Boy, I've got a score to settle with you."

Perhaps it was how Snape described 'those gun thingies', or maybe it was the way he'd said 'Boy, I've got a score to settle with you,' but Ebon was a lot less inclined to run off, after Snape's unexpected speech.

"Ya know, tha' was the most I've ever heard ya say at once," confided the green-eyed boy.

ooOoo

"What kept you out so long?" asked Remus Lupin upon their return. "You two look like you've been pulled through a hedge backwards. And do you know you've got a cat following you?" They were standing in front of the staircase, which lead to the Staff Room. A few students were looking at Snape and Ebon out of the corner of their eye and whispering behind their hands to each other.

"None of your business. It's very unthoughtful of you to say so. And yes, it's the boy's new stray," Snape answered, in his usual bad humour.

"I think you'll find that it is my business," corrected Lupin. "And it's true, just look in a mirror. What's it's name?" he finished, smiling at Ebon.

"Shut up Lupin," said Snape.

"Odd name."

"Ash," answered Ebon, glaring at his father.

"Nice choice," said Lupin approvingly. "You still haven't answered my question," he said, turning back to Snape.

"Which one?"

"Where were you?" clarified Lupin.

"We were at the Malfoy's," Ebon offered by way of explanation.

"WHAT?" yelled Lupin, causing the students to glance at the small group in surprise.

"Oh wonderful, now you've done it. They'll all be at me for weeks now, just you wait. They... What?" exploded the dark haired man. "What do you find so amusing?"

"Oh, nothing. You mean the Malfoys as in Lucius, Narcissa and Draco Malfoy did this to you?" asked Remus Lupin, hardly daring to believe it.

"Of course they didn't," snapped Snape impatiently. "It was wandering around looking for him," he pointed an accusing finger at Ebon, "all morning!"

"So you were wandering around Malfoy Manor all morning looking for Ebon?" asked Lupin disbelievingly.

"No," said Snape, rolling his eyes. "I was wandering around Hogsmeade looking for the juvenile when I happened upon Lucius Malfoy, who had also lost his son, and we found the boys together so Lucius invited us around to Malfoy manor."

"After we'd 'ad a drink at The Three Broomsticks," added Ebon.

"Oh of course, how silly of me not to have guessed. Why were you looking for him anyway?" asked Lupin suspiciously.

"I got lost," said Ebon, quite truthfully.

"Listen," began Lupin. "I don't think you should make a habit of calling around to the Malfoy's for afternoon tea. The rumours that will spread don't bare thinking about!"

"We had dinner," Snape said, straight faced.

Lupin rolled his eyes and said "It doesn't matter what meal you had, the rumour-mill will turn none the less."

"So. Who cares about rumours? What'll they do?" scoffed Ebon.

"In my experience, rumours can do about as much damage as a ton of marble falling on a passing pigeon," said Lupin pessimistically.

Suddenly a voice called out from above "LUPIN!"

Ebon bent his head back and was just in time to glimpse a tall skinny man walking down the stairs with a mangy cat (which looked like it had had a few spins by the tail in a prickly bush) slinking along behind him, before they were almost in front of him. The man had a slightly stooped gait and a face, which could only be called homely. Though even then it was the sort of home with a burned out vehicle sitting on the front lawn. As soon as they reached the bottom the cat wandered off, shooting a curious glance at Ebon over it's shoulder. Ash hissed threateningly.

"Mister Filch," acknowledged Snape with a nod towards the newcomer. "I haven't seen you in a while."

"Professor Snape," returned Filch, grinning at the Potions Master and revealing a set of extremely yellow teeth. "Nice to see you back." He then took a box of tobacco out of his pocket and, placing a lump carefully into his mouth, began to chew. This was evidently most, if not completely, the reason for Filch's discoloured dentures.

"Who's the boy then?" he asked.

"Argus, I'd like you to meet my son," Filch almost choked on his tobacco. "Ebon, or, if you like, Harry Potter." Snape waited patiently for Filch's racking coughs to subside.

"Ebon, this is Argus Filch. Caretaker of Hogwarts."

"Bloody hell Severus! What do you want to a thing like that to me for? Springin' this sort of news onto a man. Why, I nearly had a heart attack!" complained Filch, eyes clearly watering.

"Damn. Nearly," muttered Lupin.

"What was that?" Filch asked sharply.

"Nothing," replied Lupin innocently.

Filch eyed him suspiciously.

"Yes, nice ta meet you too," said Ebon sarcastically. Snape glared at Ebon warningly. Filch simply grunted.

"Good to have you back Professor," said Filch. "Less potions 'accidents' to clean up. Speaking of which..." added the caretaker. "Lupin, we've got another job to do and I need your help with this one, else I've got a snowball in hell's chance of getting it cleared up before tomorrow's lessons!" Chortling at his own wit, Filch led the way down to the Dungeons. Lupin groaned and, reluctantly, began to trail after his retreating back, rolling his eyes and looking appealingly at Ebon. The youth grinned.

"Don't think I like Filch much," confided Ebon to his father.

"Oh? Why not?" asked the dark eyed man. "It's true that he's a thick-skinned, single-minded man, with the tack of a meat-cleaver and about the same sense of humour. But he's not completely bad."

"Yes, but when 'e cracked that joke, 'e started laughin' like it was the funniest thing he's ever said!"

"And, sadly, it was," said Snape, face completely straight.

ooOoo

"Well, place cleans up nicely," decided Snape, surveying his son's bedroom approvingly.

"Yeh," agreed Ebon. "But where's Ash gonna sleep?"

"The furball sleeps on the floor," Snape decreed sternly. Then, looking at the feline in question, Snape asked the question that had been at the back of his mind ever since he'd first met the 'furball'.

"Why Ash? Of all the names you might have chosen, why did you call the cat Ash?"

"Well wha' was I supposed to call 'im? The Grim Reaper?"

"Why on earth would you want a cat anyway?"

"The undead are afraid of them," said Ebon sarcastically.

"Undead?" queried Snape.

"Yeh. Zombies 'n' the like."

"Hah! 'When there's no more room in Hell, the dead will walk the earth'."

"Yeh," laughed Ebon. "When did you see tha' flick anyways?"

"There's a lot of things you don't know about me," said Snape smugly.

"Yeah, well. Zombies; tha' would explain Filch at least,"

"Watch it you," warned Snape. "Besides, he's got a cat: Mrs. Norris."

"No theory's perfect. Wait, Mrs. Norris?"

"Don't ask. Nobody knows."

ooOoo

As they were eating dinner in Snape's lodgings (at least, Snape was eating. Ebon was still wondering what to do with the slop that was placed before him) Ebon's eyes wandered around the room. He spotted the small golden cauldron he'd tried to do away with earlier, and one or two other expensive looking artefacts on either side of it. But Ebon was honest (which meant that he didn't attempt to steal anything too big to carry in his pocket), and he never bit a hand which fed him - even if the food was only recognisable by largely stretching the definition of the word. Besides, this made it so much harder for the hand to feed him again tomorrow.

Snape followed Ebon's eyes around to room and saw exactly where they landed. "Don't let me see you trying to steal anything, or it'll be the worse for you," he warned.

"Now I'm insulted!" said Ebon indignantly. "If I stole somethin', ya sure as 'ell wouldn' see me."

"Oh, that's your motto is it?" asked Snape, amused despite himself.

"Nope. Me motto's 'I'm 'ere therefore I take'."

This time, Snape couldn't stop a short laugh from escaping.

"Truly?"

"Nah," chuckled Ebon.

"Eat your dinner boy," Snape mock growled.

"'ow can I eat this stuff? Wha' is it?" exclaimed Ebon.

"Semolina."

"Great."

"You know, we still haven't gotten you any new clothes. So tomorrow we'll have to-"

"I'm NOT goin' back to Hogsmeade!" interrupted Ebon forcefully.

"Fine. Then we'll just have to go to Diagon Alley," compromised Snape.

"Don't sound any better," grumbled the street rat. "Why do we 'ave ta go anywhere?"

"Because I said so," answered the Potions Professor.

ooOoo

The next day - Saturday - was a complete contrast to Ebon's mood. Cheerful and sunny, the weather seemed - to Ebon at least - to mock his feelings of woe and foreboding in the face of the upcoming shopping expedition.

"We'll be getting there via floo," announced Snape as soon as they had both finished their breakfast.

"Ya mean we'll 'ave ta sneeze all the way there?" asked his confused son. "Do ya 'ave a potion what makes 'em powerful enough ta blow us ta where we're goin'?"

Snape stared at his son for a moment before forcefully slapping his forehead with the palm of his hand. "Of course," he breathed. "You haven't travelled by floo powder before. Damn. This is going to be even more complicated than I realised."

"Well I don' 'ave a problem with staying behind," Ebon said hopefully. "No problem at all."

"And I don't have a problem with dragging you along every step of the way," Snape threatened in a deceptively conversational tone. "No problem at all."

"All right, all righ'. Keep yar 'air on."

Snape glowered at his offspring and pointed to a corner of the room, closest to the fireplace.

"Stand over there," he ordered.

"I'm in disgrace am I?" chuckled Ebon.

"More or less," confirmed Snape, apparently serious.

Following his son, Snape reached on top of the mantelpiece and selected largish mahogany jar inlaid with silver in an intricate Celtic design. It was one of the items Ebon had had his eye on earlier, and the former thief surveyed the object with apparent relish, recognising an expensive piece when he saw one. Snape noticed Ebon's interest and, against his better judgement, handed the jar over to the boy so he could have a better look. Ebon voiced his approval in a long, low whistle and, after a last lingering look, handed the ornamental jar back to his father. Snape, after a nod of thanks, reached his hand into the jar and pulled what looked to Ebon like a handful glittering fairy dust.

"This is floo powder," explained Snape. "You throw it into the fire, step in after and say where you wish to go."

"Righ'," said Ebon. "So ya want me ta walk inta a fire do ya? I'm no' sure this aint just somethin' ta kill me off," he said suspiciously.

"Boy if I wanted to murder you, I'd cast a quick spell. Not resort to such... Muggle means," Snape said disdainfully, reassuring Ebon. "Right, now you go first, Diagon Alley's the place. Make sure you speak very clearly though. That's very, very important Ebon. I'll follow you, so wait for me at the other end. Make sure you keep your elbows tucked firmly by your sides, shut your eyes tightly, and don't panic and try to get out too early; I'll probably never find you again, and I'm sure you don't want to be stuck up a chimney for the rest of your life. Have you got all that?" he asked.

Ebon nodded solemnly and held out his hand for the powder; closing his fist tightly once received. Stepping over to the fire, which seemed to be going continuously to keep out the chill of the dungeons, the youth scattered the floo powder over the flames and gingerly followed. Ebon was relieved to find himself not burned to a crisp. Instead, the flames gave him a slight tickling sensation, and he had to stifle a nervous giggle. Looking up through the chimney, all Ebon saw was a long, black tunnel, and he wondered how on earth he was going to fit through there, let alone Snape. Looking back at his sire, who nodded in what he probably thought was a reassuring manner, Ebon opened his mouth and spoke his first magic words: "Diagn Ally."

"Oh SHIT!" cursed Snape.

ooOoo

Ebon tumbled out of a fireplace, looking and feeling the worse for wear. He stood up, brushing himself off as much as he was able, and looked around curiously. He seemed to be in a second-hand store, but unlike any he had ever been in before. There were the usual lanterns, old books and bottles; but there were also strands of what looked like human hair along with shrunken heads, sculls and something that looked almost like a wolf paw, but quite a bit bigger. Ebon stared in fascinated horror at these examples from the dark side, before shaking off the near trance and running for the door. He may be young, but he wasn't stupid.

This is Diagon Alley? thought Ebon as he stared around at the dingy shops and people surrounding him.

The nervous youth jumped about a foot in the air when he felt a hand clamp down on his shoulder. Whipping around, he found himself staring into the bloodshot eyes of an old, old man.

"Not lost are ye sunny?" he inquired, leering nastily and revealing a set of stained and broken teeth.

"N-no, I can find me way. T-thanks all the same," said Ebon.

"Come now," scolded an equally old woman who seemed to have materialised out of nowhere. "We can't leave a nice young man such as yourself wandering around by your lonesome. Follow us, we'll help you out."

"No," said Ebon more firmly. "I'm fine." What sort of place has Snape brought me to? he thought.

"Are you sure?" asked two more materialisations. Younger this time; they flanked the old couple exactly like he'd seen hired thugs do. Ebon's instincts were telling him to run very fast in the opposite direction from the quartet. Now.

"Boy!" snapped a familiar voice behind him. Ebon turned quickly and smiled with relief at the figure of his father standing in the doorway of the second-hand store. He never thought he'd come to welcome the sight of his rescuer, but Ebon definitely wasn't going to run away this time. The thugs shifted their stance noticeably, glowering menacingly as Ebon presumed they were paid to do.

"Is there a problem?" asked Snape silkily, in a voice he only used when he was very annoyed.

The two men looked at each other before looking at Snape and shaking their heads warily. Snape's voice and nonchalant manner told them he could be the kind of trouble they weren't paid enough to deal with. They wandered off, clearly attempting to seem as if they'd hadn't done any wrong: Never have, never will.

"Severus," quavered the old man, grinning uncertainly. "I had no idea you were aquatinted with our new... friend."

"In a manner of speaking," confirmed Snape. "Now if you'll excuse us..."

"Yes, yes of course," fluttered the ancient lady. "Jona and I must be on our way as well. We're off to meet someone, an old friend you see..." she said, trailing off. "We'll just be on our way."

"Don't let us delay you, please," said Snape politely.

"Who were they?" whispered Ebon when the ancient couple had scampered off, presumably meeting up with their body guards.

"The McCains. An old wizarding family."

"Very old," muttered Ebon.

"Hmmmm. Yes. Not exactly agreeable people I admit."

"Why'd they need the muscle then?"

"Muscle? Oh I see. Presumably to help... persuade... boys such as yourself to accompany them."

"W-wha' woul' they do with me... them?"

"No one cares to ask."

"H-how can they get away with it? Don' the authorities know?" stammered Ebon.

"Ebon... When you left the muggle world, you also left the law behind. Here it's the lore!"

"Same difference aint it?" asked the puzzled street kid.

"Same thing? No. Not at all."

"Then wha'...?"

"Never mind that now. Let's just get out of here!"

"Get out of 'ere! Aint this Diagn Ally?"

"No. This is Knockturn Alley."

"Knockturn! How'd I get 'ere?"

"You didn't speak clearly enough for the floo network to direct you," explained an exasperated Snape.

"Then how'd you find me? Didn't ya say-"

"I simply imitated what you said," interrupted Snape. "Now come on. Even though I believe this to be your sort of place, I don't wish to spend any more time here than necessary."

"Hey, hang on. I was a con an' a thief, not bad! An' besides, ya seem ta know ya way 'round 'ere quite nicely." Ebon observed suspiciously.

Snape simply glanced at his son, but Ebon was sure he caught a glimpse of something suspiciously similar to amusement in his father's eyes.

ooOoo

"What's tha'?" asked Ebon, pointing to a clear tennis-ball sized orb sitting on a cushion in a shop window. They'd made it to Diagon Alley without further incident, though Ebon could have sworn he'd seen several eyes following them from a few nooks and crannies.

"That's a Remembrall. When the smoke trapped inside it turns red, that means you've forgotten something," explained Snape.

"Sounds pretty useless," said Ebon with contempt. "How are ya supposed ta remember wha' you've forgot?"

"Yes," agreed Snape, looking at his young son is surprise. "That's exactly right."

"Well what's the point of it then?"

"People love magical novelties which don't carry unpleasant consequences."

Ebon snorted.

"No, it's true. Just look at -" Snape's reply was interrupted by a group of red heads barrelling past, arguing at the top of their voices about which shop they were to visit first.

"Quality Quidditch!" insisted two identical boys. "Yeh!" agreed one who looked a few years younger.

"Just because you two made the house teams this year, doesn't mean everyone is suddenly Quidditch mad," protested a boy who looked at least two years older than the twins did.

"Why don't we ask Ginny what she wants?" suggested a boy who looked older still. "After all, it is her birthday, and this is her birthday party."

"Shut up Charlie," said one of the twins. "Ginny likes Quidditch, don't you?" he asked, punching the only girl playfully in the arm.

"Yeh!" said the girl brightly.

"God's defend us, it's the Weasleys," groaned Snape.

"Who?" asked Ebon.

"Professor Snape!" called the boy who didn't seem to like Quidditch, upon recognising his teacher.

"Don't call him over Percy!" hissed one of the twins, glaring at the older boy and the Potions Professor in turn.

"Gee, popular guy aren't you?" quipped Ebon.

Snape raised an eyebrow at his spawn and gave him a pointed look.

"Hello Professor Snape," greeted what looked like the oldest of the bunch nervously.

"Mister Weasley," acknowledged Snape, inclining his head slightly.

"Ho-how are you?" the Weasley boy continued bravely.

"Fine," answered Snape, in a voice, which effectively tortured and killed any further conversation.

"Well, we'll just be off then," said Percy, obviously making an effort to be cheerful.

Snape nodded and watched the Weasley clan hurry off.

"Hell! Anyone would think I'd broken a mirror over a black cat, whilst walking under a ladder on Friday the thirteenth!"

"I take it ya don' like tha' lot then?" ventured Ebon.

"Of all the places to meet that bunch, it has to be here, and the very day I return from my 'adventure' as Lupin so kindly put it," complained the Potions Professor. "Fate must be friends with the Fool again.*"

"Wha'? Never thought you'd be the sort ta believe in tha' kind of thing," said Ebon in surprise.

"I don't," contradicted the onyx-eyed man. Snape believed everything had come into being by chance or, in the particular case of the Weasley twins, to spite him.

"Ach! You're mad," decided Ebon, not for the first time.

"You don't have to be mad to teach," Snape said. "But if you are, it helps," he added slyly.

"So, where're we goin'?" asked Ebon, changing the subject.

"Over there," Snape pointed to a cheerful looking shop with all sorts of strange material displayed in the window.

"Wha' is it?" asked the illiterate street kid.

"Madam Malkins, robes for all occasions," Snape read.

"Sounds fun," said Ebon, voice dripping with sarcasm.

ooOoo

*This is a traditional wizarding expression, which refers to the Gods of old and their rather fickle relationships