The Boy Who Found a Home

Returning to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry later that day, Albus walked up the hill from his Apparation point outside the main gates. He felt the meeting with the Prewetts had gone as well as he could have hoped.

"Evenin', Headmaster," Hagrid said, walking up to the old wizard. His boarhound walked with his head sniffing at the ground, searching for interesting scents to follow.

"Good evening, Hagrid. It's a lovely night."

"That it is, Headmaster. Yeh've been gone quite a spell today." The half giant minced in painfully slow small steps so he wouldn't out-walk the other wizard. "Wha'd they say?"

"The Prewetts are not averse to meeting Severus."

"Wha's that mean?"

"They would prefer to meet him as if by chance."

Nodding, Hagrid said, "They don't wan' ter spook him."

A small chuckle escaped Professor Dumbledore's lips. "No, they don't want to spook Severus. Nor do they want to make him feel that he's under scrutiny."

"He's bound ter be suspicious, sir."

"Severus is suspicious of everything, Hagrid. He's a boy who lives life in a state of perpetual anxiety that everyone and everything is out to cause him harm."

"Sommat he's right ter be suspicious of others, Headmaster."

Albus looked up in astonishment. Hagrid rarely expressed displeasure, and to have him express a strong opinion in any matter was unusual. But then, the man was fond of strays and Severus Snape was most definitely a stray whom he had taken to heart.

Sirius Black and James Potter were truly gifted magically; yet they each wasted that opportunity when the Slytherin developed it. Severus was bright and gifted with a fairly powerful inner core of magic. He wasn't the most powerful child Albus had had the pleasure to instruct, yet Severus was very adept at using what he had with greater skill.

Yet the child was lacked direction, and the old wizard was certain that the right sort of influence could change that. He was, to be sure, a boy who needed constant guidance, for he was often unruly and vicious to those he disliked, especially Gryffindors.

"How was your morning, Hagrid?"

"I took Severus in ter Hogsmeade fer the clothes you wanted. Here's the bill," he said, handing a slip of parchment to the Headmaster. "Got him everythin' on the list."

"He didn't cause any difficulties?" Albus asked as they climbed the small hill up to the main doors.

"Well, Poppy said he wasn' very happy ter have her lookin' in his trunk. But she didn' let him give her no grief.

"An' he didn' much like the woman at the shop tryin' ter take his size. I had ter take him ter the side an' speak with him, firm like. After tha' he calmed right down, nice like," Hagrid said thoughtfully. "Then we walked back ter Hogwarts an' left the packages with Professor McGonagall an' went out ter work on the grounds. Should have got him a hat, he's red as one of those Chinese Fireballs an' I had to him ter Poppy cause of the headache."

"Severus had a headache?"

"Yeah, when we were havin' lunch he didn' look good. He was just pickin' at it, then he threw up an' then Professor McGonagall said ter take him up ter Poppy. She gave him sommat ter ease it, an' then I took him ter Professor Warwick for the afternoon."

"He was real excited ter be going ter Professor Warwick an' talked on all the way ter the dungeons," Hagrid continued his chatter.

The Headmaster listened attentively to Hagrid's narrative of his morning with Severus Snape. It was interesting to hear that the child was chatty; he always appeared so secretive, sober, and quiet.

Smiling, Albus waved the heavy doors open with a wave of his wand. "What did Horatio have Severus doing?"

"I think he had him cleanin' the reptile cages," Hagrid said, "an' learnin' how ter handle the creatures."

"I am pleased Severus enjoyed his afternoon with Horatio. He needs to develop those skills so he... The headache vanished then?"

"Well, he didn' seem ter have it when I took him ter Professor McGonagall for his supper. Goodnight, Headmaster."

Albus walked up the circular staircase and into his office. He paused to look through the stack of scrolls that had accumulated on his desk since mid-afternoon. Pulling a few out to peruse, he walked back to his private quarters.

Minerva was reading in a chair beside the fireplace and eating from a box of candied apricots. She held one finger up, wanting to finish the page before looking up. Smiling, she lay her book down beside her on the chair.

"Did you have a good day, Albus?" she asked, taking up another apricot.

The Headmaster dropped the small stack of scrolls to the table. He eased a shoe off of one foot and turned it several circles. He unhooked his outer robe and shrugged it off his shoulders. The second shoe was toed off and Albus sank gratefully into the chair opposite Minerva's.

"I accomplished a great deal."

"And the Prewetts?"

"I believe the Prewetts are sympathetic to the child's plight, though if they are interested in taking him in -- well, that is another matter."

Minerva listened closely for a hint of what the conversation had entailed. Albus could be infuriating with incomplete answers and silences, and this was one of those times.

"Do you believe they are open to the possibility, though?" she asked irritated by his intransigence.

"Alas, Minerva, I do not know. Hagrid mentioned Severus did not feel well after his morning. Is he feeling better?" he asked trying to change topics.

The Deputy Headmistress pursed her mouth in irritation. "Poppy gave Severus something and he did not complain during our supper tonight. Horatio said he did not appear unwell during the afternoon."

"Ah, I'll speak to Professor Warwick later. Did the boy eat his supper?" he asked.

Professor McGonagall nodded her head. "He did, though he was falling asleep at the table and propping his head up with an arm. I sent him off to wash and change for bed about an hour ago. Poor thing was struggling not to fall asleep, even as I sent him to his room. Do you know he has that filthy frockcoat tucked under his pillow?"

Albus stretched his legs and yawned widely. "Alas, he is still a child, Minerva. Both of us should get some sleep, too. Thank you for keeping watch over the boy..."

"Albus, his name is Severus."

"I'm well aware of Severus' name, Minerva."

The witch cocked her head and raised an elegant eyebrow sceptically. She took up her book and stood. "Goodnight," she said with a yawn.

"Goodnight, Minerva."

Picking up his scrolls, Albus paused at Severus' door and looked in. The boy was curled in a tight ball at the head of the bed, his father's frockcoat pulled up to his chin. The Headmaster shut the door and continued to his own room.

The covers were turned back in a perfect triangular fold. He dropped the scrolls on his bed and took the Chocolate Frog from the pillow, looked at the card, tucked it in the bedside drawer and ate the chocolate.

Albus shuffled back to his bed. He pulled one of the scrolls over and read it, then reached into the drawer beside his bed for a quill and bottle of ink. After scribbling a few comments at the bottom of the page, he read the next scroll.

His yawning was rapidly making it difficult to read, so the Headmaster set aside the parchments and lay back on his pillows. With small wave of his hand, he darkened the torches. As he lay in his bed, Albus thought through his day, and he began to feel his body relaxing.

He'd asked a trusted friend, an expert in inheritance and financial affairs, for advice. Professor Dumbledore would need to prove Hydra Snape had either: engineered her husband's death or, had induced him to sign over his assets to her through manipulation or the use of the Imperius curse. Any of the three could further devastate the already emotionally fragile young Slytherin.

The Headmaster would have to track any money spent by the witch, and what she was spending it on, if there was to be any chance for Severus to regain the estate. Professor Dumbledore wanted there to be something for him, no matter how piddling. Access to an empty vault at Gringotts would be a hollow victory.

Albus' friend recommended solidifying the status of Severus' guardianship. While Hydra had given Severus over to him, it was possible someone else could fight for custody in an attempt to gain what money the youth's father had possessed.

The Headmaster heard a shuffling sound in the darkened corridor outside his bedroom. Glancing to the source, he saw the child he had been pondering pressed tightly against the door jamb, watching him intently.

"Severus, I thought you were asleep."

The boy began to move away from the open door and back down the corridor to his room. Albus raised the lights.

"Would you like to come in?" he invited. "Did you have an enjoyable day with Hagrid and Professor Warwick?"

Severus stood in his bare feet and stared at him.

"Your feet must be getting cold, standing out there without slippers. Come in and warm yourself."

The young wizard hesitated, before he cautiously stepped into the Headmaster's bedroom. The bed was not as big as Severus would have expected, but it was hung with red and gold curtains, held back with large tassels. The curtains were thin gauze, sheer to keep the summer flying insects away, yet thin enough to allow a breeze to play over the bed. The thick winter duvet was draped across a rack at the foot of the bed.

Severus glanced at the pillows on the floor and the curl toed slippers beside the bed. The child looked about the room curiously and without subtlety.

"It's not what you expected it to look like, is it?"

"No, sir," the child responded quietly, keeping close to a wall. "What's that?"

"That is Fawkes' perch."

"Where is he?"

"Fawkes decided to remain in my office tonight."

"Oh. Why?"

"He just does, sometimes."

"Has he died yet?" Severus asked suddenly from his position next to the stand.

"Yes, many times."

"How do you know you're getting the same phoenix back?"

"I've watch him be reborn from the ashes."

"How do you know it's the same phoenix, though?"

"You may watch the next time Fawkes bursts into flame, if you like. It won't be for some time though; he was reborn just prior to the start of last term."

"Do you know what?"

Albus' eyebrows rose expectantly to Severus' question. He restrained the smile that threatened to escape.

"Professor Warwick had me clean the reptile cages today. And, you know what? Snakes aren't slimy-feeling at all, they are warm and dry."

"Did you enjoy handling them?" Albus asked.

"I only touched a couple of them, and you know what?" Severus wandered more closely to Professor Dumbledore's bed.

"No, what?"

"Professor Warwick gave some of them crickets to eat. He gave one a mouse. Do you like snakes?" Severus said, pausing to toy with one of the heavy tassels.

"Without snakes the world would be overrun by vermin," Albus said cautiously.

"Most people don't like snakes," the child said softly, obviously still unsure of the Headmaster's intentions.

"Many people are afraid of what they don't know."

"Why is your hair white?" Severus altered tack.

"I'm old," Albus said. He wondered what the boy was seeking in his wandering conversation. Reaching back, he pulled out a pillow and plumped it.

"How come it's so long?"

"It was the style of my youth." Professor Dumbledore explained, placing the pillow behind his shoulders.

"Lucius has long hair, too. He isn't old."

"I believe he follows his father's standards in some things."

"How come you have ribbons in your hair and beard?"

Albus chuckled, "I use ties to keep my hair from getting wet when I wash for bed."

Severus walked toward the window and looked out into the night time sky.

"I'm not going to be able to go back home again, am I?"

Ah, this is what Severus wants to talk about, he thought. He looked at the young boy standing with his back to him.

"Severus, come and sit next to me on the bed," the Headmaster invited. The young wizard wandered about the room before approaching the large canopied bed. Albus waved his wand to the pillows on the floor, moving them back onto the bed. Severus leaned a hip against one of the canopy supports at the foot of the bed.

"Come on up and put your feet under the covers before they turn to ice," Albus said, moving the corner of the bedspread to the side. Severus climbed up and sat at the foot of the bed, his eyes watchful.

"Severus, I don't know quite what to tell you. It would be easy for me to answer with a yes or no. The truth is, I very much doubt you will return to your father's house in the near future. How would you feel about spending the remainder of the summer holiday here, with me at Hogwarts?"

The young Slytherin wizard gave a scrutinising appraisal to the Headmaster and did not answer. He dropped his head to pick at the thread holding a button on his pyjamas.

"Severus, you undoubtedly would like to be in your own bedroom right now. I can only imagine how much you must miss having things that are familiar around you."

"I didn't like it there," the boy said in a barely audible tone. Severus bit at his lip then brought a hand up to his mouth and began to chew at a cuticle with great ferocity. His toes wiggled into the warmth of the covers. "My mother taught me things. Father was angry and yelled at her."

"Why was your father angry?" Albus asked as he lifted his beard from under the blankets. Severus' eyes followed the careful movements intently.

The young wizard looked back at Fawkes' perch. "She was teaching me things Father thought were bad."

"Were they bad things?"

"Maybe ..."

"Do you think some of the things she taught you were not the sort of things you should have been learning?" Albus asked in a non-judgmental way. He studied the boy sitting at the foot of his bed. Severus seemed to be sifting through a great many thoughts all at once.

"I didn't then, but ... I did wonder, a little, when I was sent to your office all the time." Severus peered at one fingernail intently, in an attempt to avoid the Professor's eyes.

Albus could almost hear the gears grinding in the boy's mind. Severus suddenly realized he was in danger of admitting practical working knowledge of things he suspected were Dark magic.

"I w-would like to return to bed," Severus mumbled suddenly. He pulled his feet back from under the warmth of the bedcovers and dropped to the floor. A hiss escaped his mouth, as he felt the cool floor on his bare feet. With a jerky tiptoeing, he worked his way to the door.

"G'night, Severus."

"Goodnight, Headmaster," the young boy responded in a rushed, hushed voice, eager to leave the room.

Professor Dumbledore dimmed the torches again, lay back on his pillow, and closed his eyes. So much was riding on the next several weeks. He had to build a firm bond with the young Slytherin.

***

Severus padded down the corridor to the guestroom and crossed quickly to the bed. With a leap, he landed on it and burrowed under the duvet. Pulling it up to his chin, Severus considered the brief conversation he'd just had with the Head of Hogwarts.

The young wizard was certain some, if not most, of the hexes his mother had taught him were highly suspect, if not actual Dark magic. Having stood before the Headmaster for disciplining over the past school term had raised his suspicions. Yet, it was only hearing his mother revelling in her triumph over his father that had solidified that view. Now he was confused.

Severus had heard frequent mutterings from within Slytherin, specifically from Lucius Malfoy and his friends, that the Headmaster was a judgmental reactionary where Dark magic was concerned. There were perfectly acceptable uses for Dark magic that were overlooked by people like the narrow-minded Headmaster. Dark magic could cure diseases; that was a fact that was overlooked. They were being persecuted for wanting to learn all aspects of the art of magic.

Malfoy, McNair, and Lestrange were particularly outspoken and spent many hours lecturing the young members of Slytherin about the injustices thrown at them by the heavily Gryffindor administration at Hogwarts. Trevor LeMont stood silently, listening to and sometimes joining in the arguments. Hamish would argue that the administration was mostly even handed.

Lucius would upbraid Hamish Goyle for bending his knee to the Gryffindor Headmaster. After the haranguing, LeMont would drape a friendly arm over Goyle's shoulder in camaraderie and leave the Slytherin common room for their dormitory room. Laughter followed the two friends up the stairs.

Severus remained in the shadows during the heated discussions. His opinion wasn't asked, and he didn't offer it. Frankly, he didn't quite follow much of what Lestrange, McNair, and Malfoy said amidst the hysteric rhetoric. Much of it seemed disjointed and inflammatory in nature.

It was an uncomfortable Severus who found his name brought up in these discussions. Lucius constantly brought up the points taken and detentions handed out to the first year by an unsympathetic Headmaster. The old man was blind to the mischief of created by members of his own House. Those four Gryffindors would harass Snape and when he'd defend himself, in perfectly acceptable ways, he was the one to be punished!

One of Malfoy's other favourite subjects was the Muggle-born wizards. He said he could just tolerate the half-bloods (as long as they didn't try to marry into the pure-blood families) but those without a drop of wizard blood were an abomination; they muddied what wizards were.

Severus would listen with half an ear, while he thought about his lessons. He began to observe the Muggle born in his lessons, and was frankly confused. Most of them appeared to possess a strength many pure-bloods did not have.

But now, as his mind raced, his eyes grew heavy and they closed to a restful sleep.

***

The Headmaster, Hagrid, Madam Pomfrey, and Professor McGonagall found things to interest and entertain him between supper and bed each evening. They played strange games that Professor Dumbledore had found somewhere. Some were card games, a few were logic puzzles, and others were something called 'board games'.

One evening after supper, Professor Dumbledore brought out a carton with a great many small oddly shaped pieces. Spilling the contents of the box across the table, he smiled brightly at Minerva and Severus. Professor McGonagall groaned loudly and lifted her hands and eyes in supplication.

"Albus, are you certain that this time all the pieces are here?" she asked. The witch began to turn the oddly shaped pieces over, apparently knowing what to do with them. "How many pieces are in this one?"

"Only one thousand," the Headmaster said in an amused voice. "Wouldn't you like to assist us, Severus?"

The young wizard looked at the shapes scattered across the table, more closely. He wasn't certain what it was that Professor Dumbledore wanted help with. His face must have shown his confusion because Professor McGonagall said, "It's a jigsaw puzzle, Severus. A picture is applied to a board, which is then cut apart in odd shapes."

An eye looked up at Severus from the table. He gave it a suspicious stare; the eye did not blink or follow the movement of the hands sorting the little segments. It was strange.

"Is - is it broken?" Severus asked in a slightly perplexed tone.

"What? No, it is a Muggle puzzle; it doesn't have any magic in it. The picture is by a Muggle artist Giovanni Paolo Panini and is titled: Views of Ancient Rome," Albus said, still sorting through the numerous pieces.

"Why don't you just magic them into place?" Severus asked.

"The Headmaster thinks it is enjoyable to spend days, and sometimes several weeks, fitting all of these into their proper places," Minerva said with some bite, moving a handful of red pieces to one corner of the table.

"I have never been able to escape helping him put the puzzles together, piece by agonizing piece. Where is the illustration, Albus?"

"I vanished it," he said. With a wink to the startled boy he added, "It's much more fun to figure out when you don't know what it looks like."

"Albus, you really are incorrigible," the witch said with disgust.

"Look for the corner and edge pieces," Professor Dumbledore urged the young wizard. He glanced up and saw the confused expression on the boy, then added, "They are flat along one side or have right angles."

Bimney brought a silver bowl of peanuts and three bottles to the table. The Headmaster's hand reached blindly into the peanuts.

"Albus, what is that?" the witch asked, pointing to the bottles.

"Something I asked Bimney to find; it's called Coca-Cola."

"It's cold!" There was definite edge of suspicion in her voice.

"The Muggle-born children are very excited by it. I thought we'd try some," Professor Dumbledore chuckled, as he examined one of the bottles. Pointing his wand at one of the bottles, the metal cap blew off with an explosive force. The brown liquid flew upward in a rush, covering the three in a sticky fluid.

The witch's face turned dark. With as much grace as she could manage, Professor McGonagall drew her wand, "Evanesco!"

"Oops!" The Headmaster apologised in a meek tone. "I didn't think it would do that!"

"You should have asked one of the children how you're supposed to open it!"

Severus fought a snicker back by biting his lip.

Professor McGonagall shook her head, and transfigured a domino into a small plate; she absently waved her wand so that some of the peanuts floated to her plate. "The nuts are quite safe, Severus," the witch commented reassuringly. He took a peanut between his fingers and nibbled on it.

The young wizard looked at the thousand pieces critically. There were a lot of little tiny, oddly shaped pieces spread across the table. Severus' hand began to move across the table searching through the pile of little pieces.

The Slytherin was unaware of one hand reaching for a puzzle piece, while the other was taking a peanut. Once he caught himself just before putting the puzzle piece in his mouth.

Professor McGonagall opened the last of the Coca-Cola bottles; the Headmaster man had consumed the bulk of the carbonated beverage. Severus, who hadn't heard of this stuff, wasn't quite certain why Muggles liked it.

The candles burned lower and a bit of the picture began to develop. The bowl of peanuts became less full; in fact, there were just a few remaining in the silver basin.

He was so intent on searching, he wasn't aware of the large yawns emanating from his mouth. His eyes felt scratchy and bleary as he moved around, selecting the little pieces and moving them to an isolated section of the table.

Several candles flickered and went out, sending the room into deep shadows.

Minerva looked up as she noticed the dimness, saw the burned down tapers and then glanced at the wizards' clock on the wall. "Look at the time!" she exclaimed.

The Headmaster glanced up and returned to the puzzle.

"Albus!" the Deputy Headmistress cried out. "It is nearly one in the morning!"

Professor Dumbledore suddenly noticed Severus bent over the table. "Don't you know the time, Severus? You should have been in bed hours ago! Professor McGonagall will be quite testy if you fall asleep while helping clean her classroom."

"Leave the child alone," she said kindly. "He doesn't know you are teasing him."

"Wash up, and then pop into bed. I'll look in on you before I turn the lamps down," the Headmaster said, waving the tired boy to the guest room. Severus disappeared behind the door, and a bit later they heard the creak as the child got into the canopied bed.

"He appears to be adapting to his altered situation," the Headmaster said quietly. He sat back in his chair and looked at the woman sitting across from him. "Either that, or he is suppressing his feelings to protect himself."

Nodding, the witch stretched and sighed deeply before answering her friend. "I believe it is a bit of both. He is a boy who builds walls to surround himself; it prevents exposing himself to hurt, but it also isolates him. How do we help bring him out of that isolation?"

"Build his trust. He will never be a complete person if we can't gain his trust. Severus needs to recognise we will protect him; it won't happen in a day or in a week or even in a month. Trust is a gradual process."

Professor McGonagall inhaled deeply and raised an elegant hand to adjust the bun on the back of her head. "I wish you the best of luck."

"Severus wants affection as much as anyone else does, Minerva. He is afraid of it though. You saw how he craved it...."

"Well, both you and Hagrid have more patience than I do, Albus."

***

Several mornings later, Albus left his bedroom and discovered Severus, still in his pyjamas, leaning over the table and placing jigsaw pieces into the puzzle. With his back to the Headmaster, he was rapidly fitting sections together with great intensity. Occasionally, he'd push back his hair in an irritated motion or bite at a finger thoughtfully, before quickly fitting more sections together. Much to Professor Dumbledore's astonishment, the puzzle was half done; they'd only managed to fit the outer edge together over the past two evenings with Minerva and Madam Pomfrey's help.

Severus stood and with a wave of his wand, disassembled the puzzle to its original form. Smiling, the young Slytherin stretched and turned. "Headmaster!" he yelped in surprise.

"Good morning, Severus," Albus said. He did not mentioning the puzzles changing form. "You best change into your robes before breakfast."

"Y-yes, sir." The young Slytherin slid past the Headmaster and into his room.

"Finite Incantatem!" he intoned with a wave of his hand.

The puzzle reformed to the condition Severus had completed. Had the child slept at all, last night? His charm on Severus' room should have informed him if he awaken. He waved his hand to restore the puzzle to last evening's efforts. He was amused that Severus had obviously become fascinated by the puzzle, or with the solving of the puzzle. He had quite a one track mind when something possessed him.

Bimney popped into the parlour. "Breakfasts for yous, Headmaster!"

Hot tea, pumpkin juice, eggs, toast and jam, and porridge popped onto the table from the kitchens below Hogwarts. The house-elf snapped his long slender fingers; the crockery and flatware settled onto the table, now covered by a cloth.

"How is the weather this morning, Bimney?" Albus asked his house-elf, as he poured a cup of tea for himself and a glass of pumpkin juice for Severus.

"Misty, but its will changes to rain later, Headmaster Dumbledore, sir. Will yous be goings out todays?"

"I promised Hagrid that we would help him this morning."

A silent Severus emerged from his room and sat at the table. Albus pushed the juice glass toward him.

"May I have tea, instead?" the scrawny child asked as he frowned at the glass.

"No, you need to have the nutrients. You're a growing child."

"I don't like pumpkin juice," Severus said grumpily. "It's thick and revolting."

"Severus, it would please me very much if you'd drink the pumpkin juice."

"It doesn't please me!"

"I would remind you, Severus, to address me as Headmaster, professor or sir. Please, drink the pumpkin juice."

Severus pouted and rested his head on one fist. After a heavy sigh, he took the glass and took a sip. He made a face that clearly relayed his distaste for the contents. He coughed and made gagging sounds into his napkin.

"There's no need to be so dramatic, Severus. You have made it quite clear you dislike the juice."

The pout deepened as Severus crossed his arms across his chest and sat back in his chair.

"Yous be wanting eggs, Master Severus?" Bimney asked.

"No, thank you, Bimney," he responded with a forced politeness. Albus spooned porridge into a bowl and placed it before him.

"I don't care for any, Headmaster."

"Severus, I'll not play this game with you. You will drink the rest of your juice and eat what is placed before you," Albus said firmly.

"Why can't I make any decisions myself? Why do I always have to do what everyone else says?"

The Headmaster pushed his chair back and rested an elbow on the edge of the table. "You have had a great deal of leeway. I have not have I forbidden you to make decisions on your own, except when those decisions effects your health or safety.

"I have made an exception for you to not deny you the use of your magic during the summer. No other underage student has that honour. I have made few demands on you and it is my desire that you have as enjoyable a summer as you can while you are at Hogwarts. There is a Muggle adage that is apropos: When life gives you lemons, make lemonade."

Severus' frown deepened briefly. "What does that mean?"

"You're not a stupid boy, Severus. Think about it and solve the problem yourself," he said rising from his chair. "Now, while I would prefer you eat something, when you're ready we will visit Hagrid. He needs our assistance."