The Boy Who Found a Home

"How may I assist you, Mr. Lupin?" the Headmaster asked, having opened the door to his office to admit the second year.

Remus shuffled his feet awkwardly, then flushed scarlet.

"Why don't you have a seat and tell me what it is you wished to discuss."

Remus slowly sat in one of the chairs. He'd been in the office once, as a first year, when the Headmaster had the new students up to meet him. Remus could see that there were a few more bits and bobs lying about than before.

Biting the inside of his mouth, the young man finally met the old wizard's eyes and hesitantly began to speak. "I - uh, wanted to discuss the detention."

The professor sat calmly behind his desk, not saying anything.

"Well, I - ah, was wondering why you gave me detention, too. What I'm trying to say is - I didn't do anything, sir."

"True, you didn't do anything."

Remus sat back in his chair, startled. Clearly, the Headmaster knew he hadn't been involved in the harassment of Snape, so why was he being punished, too?

"Sir?" the brown haired boy asked, very puzzled.

"You did nothing. You could have said something to stop their..."

"No, I couldn't, sir," Remus interrupted.

"You could have expressed your disapproval of their..."

"They wouldn't like me if I told them to stop."

"Life is full of such decisions, Remus. You knew it wasn't right and you said nothing."

The teenager looked at his hands as they worried the edge of his school robe. "They're the first real friends I've had, sir. I don't want them to treat me like..."

"...like Mr. Snape?" the Headmaster interrupted.

"Nobody likes him. Everyone thinks he's strange and into the Dark Arts, sir."

"Therefore because nobody likes him, you are willing to permit this egregious treatment just to maintain your friends? Have you ever attempted to be a friend to him?"

"He hasn't tried to be mine," he said apprehensively, and realized how pathetic his excuse was. "No, sir."

"You might find you have a great deal in common with Mr. Snape."

Remus had often joined Lily at the stable and talked to the dark Slytherin the previous autumn. But, since the spring, he'd ceased to speak to him because of his friends' dislike of the strange boy.

"I'm not interested in practising the Dark Arts, sir," Remus responded weakly.

"Are you so certain he is?" Professor Dumbledore asked.

"Sirius and James say he is."

"Ah! But do you know this for a fact?"

A hesitant Remus chewed his lip before answering. "No, sir."

"Aren't you making an assumption without knowing all the facts then?" the old wizard asked, as he leaned back in his chair. One wrinkled hand took up a tin box, flipped open the lid, and passed it across the desk to Remus.

Remus took one of the offered sweets. The hard candy tasted sweet, cool, and refreshing. The Headmaster selected one and popped it in his mouth.

"Headmaster, Snape hexes us all the time," he argued weakly.

"Without cause?" The old wizard's face revealed nothing.

"Well, sometimes," Remus admitted slowly. He had an uncomfortable feeling in the pit of his stomach; he might have just made the situation worse for himself.

"If the four of you make Mr. Snape a particular target for mischief, it certainly would give him a motive to want to retaliate when he had the opportunity, wouldn't it? Having spiders in his hair..." He allowed the sentence to fade.

"Sir, he's hexed us a lot," Remus said boldly, in self defence.

"I want you to think very carefully before you answer me, Remus. How often has Severus initiated the hexes?"

Licking his lips, he mumbled into his lap.

"What was that, Remus?" the Headmaster asked quietly.

He looked up at Professor Dumbledore before he hung his head and sank back into the chair.

"On occasion, sir," the Gryffindor said, as he fiddled with the corner of his robe.

"I have before me your most recent marks in Potions. Though you try, your unfortunate absences are affecting your school work. Professor Warwick thinks that perhaps you could use a bit of assistance."

Remus' mouth fell open in shock; he guessed what was being suggested. "You want me to ask him for help? He'd sooner hex me than help me! James and Sirius can help..."

"Are they better than you in Potions?"

"Well, no. But ..."

"I don't think you are on very firm ground then, Remus."

The young Gryffindor sat back in his chair and stared at the floor. Finally, he nodded his head in agreement. "All right, Headmaster, I'll ask if he'll help me."

Professor Dumbledore raised one eyebrow, took off his half moon glasses and polished them with an embroidered handkerchief. Smiling, he replaced the glasses and waved Remus from the office.

Galloping down the stairs two at a time, the young Gryffindor skidded to a halt as he came to the final step. He had nearly run into a tall wizard he had never seen before.

The man looked down his aquiline nose and narrowed his eyes dangerously at the Gryffindor. With a swirl of his cape, he disappeared up the curving flight to the Headmaster's office.

***

The silver tipped stick knocked on the door impatiently. The massive door swung opened to admit the impatient wizard.

"Has the boy been informed he will be joining my family for the holidays?" Vagus Malfoy demanded.

"I have not told Severus you wish him to join you for Boxing Day. I thought you might prefer to put forth the offer."

"Where is the boy, Dumbledore?"

"Severus is in the infirmary."

"Lucius did not mention he was ill."

"He isn't. Severus is serving a detention with the school matron," Albus said, and led the way back down the stairs into the corridor.

"Why is he serving detention?"

"He fragrantly disobeyed one of his professors' instructions," Professor Dumbledore said succinctly.

Vagus Malfoy repressed a smile. Maybe this boy was worth the effort after all.

***

Remus, James, and Sirius were crossing the entry hall when they saw Professor Dumbledore climbing down the stairs with a vaguely familiar wizard.

"Who is that?" James asked.

"I don't know, but I almost literally ran into him as I was leaving the Headmaster's office," Remus replied.

The three boys felt a definite unease watching the man accompanying Professor Dumbledore.

***

Professor Dumbledore pushed open the doors to the infirmary and motioned Vagus Malfoy to precede him into an airy room.

The school matron glanced over to see who'd entered. The wizard noted the woman kept a close watch on who entered her territory.

Vagus watched as she turned back to her work at hand; she pressed cloths to the faces of several children. The room was occasionally racked by loud sneezes. Vagus Malfoy's frowned; the sickroom was not the domain for a man; it was women's work.

Following the Headmaster, Malfoy waited as the man knocked on a door. A dark-haired boy, who had been sorting through a pile of parchments, looked up. The scruffy child scrambled to his feet when he saw Professor Dumbledore.

"Good morning, Severus. How are you this morning?"

The black eyes narrowed just before he noticed Vagus standing behind the Head of Hogwarts. Frown lines creased the young wizard's face.

"Mr. Malfoy, I would like to present Severus Snape," Dumbledore said, indicating the boy.

A cold, predatory smile quickly crossed Vagus' face before settling into a pleasant expression. He had set out to charm the boy as best he could. Malfoy took a step into the boy's personal space; the wizard noted the slight recoil at the intrusion.

"It is a pleasure to meet a fellow Slytherin. My son, Lucius, has spoken fondly of you."

The young Slytherin glanced at the Headmaster and licked his lips nervously.

Moving with the speed of a striking snake, Vagus pulled the young boy to his side. "And as such a one, you are a part of my family; Slytherin will always care for Slytherin. May I call you Severus?"

Feeling the boy squirm at the unexpected physical contact, Vagus tightened his hold. "A Slytherin doesn't squirm. - Your Headmaster has kindly permitted me to have you join us on Boxing Day," Vagus continued in condescending solicitude.

The young wizard remained silent. He knows his place, Malfoy thought approvingly.

Snape was staring at the corner of the table and worrying a cuticle. The child needed polish. Vagus allowed his silver tipped walking stick to smash down in an impatient movement. He saw the young wizard jump.

"You must learn that a Slytherin must always put his best foot forward," Vagus said smoothly. "-- I will meet the boy at the Leaky Cauldron at ten in the morning on Boxing Day," he said, turning to Dumbledore. "He will be returned to you as per our agreement."

Vagus looked Severus up and down in disgust. "You do have robes other than those?"

"Y-yes, sir."

"Good, wear them. And it wouldn't hurt to wash and comb your hair; there will be wizards of note present and you wouldn't want to make a poor impression. See that you aren't an embarrassment to me," the wizard shot at the boy as he exited the infirmary.

"I don't know anything about fancy affairs," Severus whined in a flurry of emotion once he was alone with Dumbledore. His hands worried the front of his robes; they were a crushed wrinkle of fabric.

"Have a peppermint crumble, Severus." Albus levitated a small cardboard carton to land beside the young Slytherin.

Albus was quite certain his ward would not find his inclusion in a Malfoy house party very enjoyable. Severus was, without a doubt, one of the more ungainly children he'd had the pleasure to know. Still, the Headmaster wouldn't allow the child to humiliate himself before Vagus Malfoy and his guests.

"Madam Pomfrey!"

"Yes, Headmaster?" she responded in a muffled voice - her watch was clasped between her teeth as she buttoned on a fresh apron.

"You appear to be quite busy today," Professor Dumbledore commented. "Is there some unusual malady taking over the school?"

Severus saw an annoyed expression on the woman's face. "I have had to change my apron three times this morning, due to the mischief of your students!"

"My students?" Albus asked in surprise. He fingered the tasselled belt of his robe.

"Why is it that when they are behaving, they are yours, but when they aren't, somehow they belong to someone else?" she snapped crisply.

"What has made them my students, Poppy?"

Frowning, Madam Pomfrey finished fixing her watch to her apron, then straightened to look directly at the Headmaster. "Someone in Hufflepuff attempted to use the Contagious Sneezing Hex."

"And?"

"Imagine what can happen when a silly first year, who doesn't know what he is doing, attempts to counter the hex! I'll tell you this: the Slytherins and Ravenclaws caught in the middle were not very amused to have all manner of breakfast foods sprayed across their faces." Irritation was clearly written across the woman's face.

"Then, when Mr. Black decided to exacerbate the problem by throwing bananas at the Slytherins, it became chaotic. Frankly, I am amazed Minerva hasn't mentioned it to you yet," Madam Pomfrey added with growing impatience.

"I shall of course speak with Professor McGonagall about the chicanery in the Great Hall. I did hope for some of your expertise right now, though," Albus added seriously.

"My expertise, Headmaster?" she asked, sidetracked from her rant.

"Young Mr. Snape has been invited to join the Malfoys on Boxing Day. I believe he would appreciate some of your advice." Professor Dumbledore wanted his charge to feel comfortable with the situation.

A broad smile and vigorous nod expressed the witch's excitement to do something out of the usual. "Hmmm... Luncheon, tea, or supper?"

Exchanging a look with Severus, Professor Dumbledore shook his head. "Since he is expected at ten, probably luncheon and, perhaps, an early tea."

"We'll teach you all you need to know, my dear," the witch said reassuringly. "But right now, I have patients that need me. Shall we reassemble in two hours?"

"That sounds ideal," Albus said with good mirth.

"Are you certain this is a good idea, Headmaster?" A sceptical Severus sat back in his chair. He looked distinctly green.

"Of course, my child. Knowing what to do in any situation will only give you the confidence to move forward."

"Professor, Mr. Malfoy knows I don't belong," Severus moaned pitifully. His robe was taking an awful abuse from his worrying hands.

"By the time Madam Pomfrey is finished, you will to all appearances have been to the manor born."

"What, sir?" the sceptical boy asked with a very puzzled face. He bit at a cuticle.

"If we are going to do this, we need to do this correctly. I will ask Bimney to bring your best robes up. We will teach you how to play a role worthy of Edmund Kean."

"Are you certain this is a good idea, Headmaster?" Severus asked, chewing at his thumb. Albus patted him on the head and left the infirmary.

Later that afternoon, when the infirmary was empty, Madam Pomfrey stood and smiled warmly at Severus. Professor Dumbledore stood to the side. He felt quite dashing in his lime coloured, sable cuffed robe.

"The first thing you need to know is how to properly enter a room," the witch said. "Walk with a firm, determined step. Do your best not to shuffle or fidget. It is important to maintain a quiet outer poise. You must convince yourself that this is the most normal of situations.

"In a grand house, such as the Malfoys have, there will be house-elves or servants to take your outerwear as you enter. Remove your gloves and place them in your hat, and pass them to the servant; then you will allow your cloak to drop from your shoulders; a servant will take it as it drops."

"But I'm going by Floo; I won't have a cloak or gloves," Severus said.

"It would be more acceptable to Mr. Malfoy if you were to leave from Madam Rosmerta's," Dumbledore said."

"There is normally a mirror in the entry, so you can give the briefest check to your attire and hair," Madam Pomfrey coolly returned the conversation back to its original topic. "I would like you to put your cloak on and practice dropping it."

Severus swung his cloak over his shoulders.

"With one hand, unclasp it, and allow it to slide off your shoulders. Good! Now look in the mirror to judge your appearance. Severus, stop and look again; your robe is all mangled from your cloak; you need to tidy it before you meet your hosts. Much better," she said and smiled her encouragement.

"When you greet the hosts, there are several acceptable greetings. The first is to bow from the neck, while the second is to shake the hand, and the third is to kiss the cheek in the fashion of the Middle Eastern wizard. It's a bit pretentious," the Headmaster informed him.

"How do you know which to do?"

"You look for clues from the host. Closely observe what other people are doing," replied Professor Dumbledore.

"Assume the Headmaster is the host and I am the hostess," Madam Pomfrey suggested. "We will pretend you don't know us. Try to catch the small signals we present."

The school matron held out her hand with a studied indifference, and Professor Dumbledore gave the slightest of nods. Severus shook Poppy's hand enthusiastically and bowed deeply to Albus.

"Madam Pomfrey was not holding her hand out to have you shake it. Watch as we illustrate for you," Albus instructed. He took Madam Pomfrey's proffered hand by the fingertips and bent his head from the neck in a smart salute.

"Did you see how she held her hand? She did not hold it out like this," he said, holding his hand out for a handshake. "Madam Pomfrey held it like this. You don't really need to bow deeply, just the briefest of nods from your neck will do. Try again."

Severus took Poppy's hand by the fingertips and bent his head over it.

"Very nicely done, Severus."

"All right," the boy said, his face turned very serious. "What then, ma'am?"

"You exchange pleasantries," Madam Pomfrey said. "Such as, 'It's a pleasure to meet you' or 'How kind of you to invite me to join your party.'"

"It is wise to avoid highly volatile topics such as politics or religion. Literature, art, and the countryside would be considered safe subjects to discuss with a mixed group," Professor Dumbledore said.

"You may comment about the group that the hostess has assembled, the weather, or compliment her children."

Maybe I should just say nothing, Severus thought.

"You should assume that the Malfoys will follow old wizard customs relating to social precedence. There might well be a receiving line; therefore, you will be expected to greet all those in the line and not repeat the same pleasantries within their hearing," the school matron said thoughtfully.

"Lucius will in all likelihood be expected to introduce you to the younger guests that have been invited for the occasion. Chances are you already know most of them," Albus added reassuringly.

A frown creased Severus' face as he imagined Lucius' very frightening friends. If he were lucky, Hamish Goyle would be among the guests, though with the Head Boy's views, he didn't hold out much hope for that possibility.

"Madam Pince has several very fine books on wizard etiquette that may be useful. They will cover things I might gloss over." The witch's voice sparkled cheerfully.

"Why don't we move on to table etiquette?" the Headmaster suggested. One wave of his wand produced a china laden table.

"I have to eat in front of them?"

"The meals will be announced by Mrs. Malfoy's personal house-elf. As the hostess, she and the guest of honour will lead the group into the dining room. The social precedence to enter the dining room is as follows: the hostess and guest of honour, then the host and lady of honour. They will be followed by Lucius with the next ranking lady. Then the remaining guests, dependant of their social status, will enter the room," the witch informed the overwhelmed young wizard. "The higher your social position, the closer you will sit to the host and hostess. You will be considered fairly low in social status and seated further down the table"

"In a formal tea, the hostess will be seated at the tea service. She will pour the tea, and her house-elves or servants will bring a cup to you. You will drape your napkin across your knee, like this." Pomfrey illustrated with great skill.

"The attending servants will bring plates of sandwiches, cakes, and tarts to you. Using the tongs, you will take one or two items and place them onto your plate. If you can manage a simple levitation charm..."

"I am in the room, Poppy," Professor Dumbledore reminded his school matron.

"You could use a levitation charm to balance your plates, were you of age," the witch said acerbically, ignoring the Headmaster's reminder about underage use of magic.

"You will not slurp from your teacup or drink from your saucer. Nibble at the sandwiches; you don't want to be caught with an entire sandwich in your mouth if you are asked a question. You must use the fork for the cake and tarts."

"What about luncheon, Madam Pomfrey?" the Headmaster asked. He knew this was a great deal of information for the socially inept child to absorb quickly.

As if on cue, there was a loud pop, and the table was laden with food items. Swallowing, Severus looked at the display with intimidation. "These aren't all for luncheon, are they?" he asked weakly.

"Mmhmm, yes, they are. The table is set for a modest meal. Observe the layout of the items at each place. A simple rule is to work from the outside in toward the plate."

"There are a lot of things there, Madam Pomfrey," Severus mumbled suspiciously.

Smiling, she nodded her head in agreement. "True, the table setting is a bit more excessive than the ordinary wizard is accustomed to. A good rule to follow is: observe what the hostess does. If she uses a utensil, you should use it, too.

"Do not rub the flatware with your napkin; doing so indicates the setting is somehow flawed and will cause insult to the hostess."

"If something is served that you don't care for, you must manage to appear to have at least tried the dish. Learning the fine art of sleight of hand cannot be discounted. However, if you cannot eat a specific item, for dietary or religious reasons, it is appropriate to notify the hostess' staff prior to the engagement," Madam Pomfrey said with a smile.

"How did you learn all of this, Madam Pomfrey?" Severus sounded overwhelmed.

"My grandfather was butler to an old wizard family in France in the last century, and my grandmother was the Comtesse de Cerise's personal companion."

"Oh..."

"Madam Pomfrey often advises me on the formal functions I am forced to host as Headmaster," Albus added with amusement. "She has never steered me wrong. In fact, I recall one time, when we had a very difficult visiting dignitary and Poppy saved the evening with well placed advice."

"You mean Emir Be..."

"Indeed," he said reflectively.

"He was a particularly difficult guest..." Poppy agreed with a smile on her lips.

After two hours, Severus felt quite exhausted by the advice he'd been given. The Headmaster saw the weariness spreading across his face as more and more information was fed to him. It was time to allow Severus a break from the intricacies of social form.

"Why don't we walk? I did want to speak with you about a little something."

"Ohhh?" the young wizard drew out his question, fearing the worst.

"Nothing awful or dreadful, my child. Why don't we visit Hagrid?" he invited.

Severus walked several paces behind Professor Dumbledore, down a private stairway and out onto the grounds behind the castle. The sun shone brightly as they left the cool confines of the granite walls.

"Professor Warwick has spoken to me about your grasp of Potions. He has been very pleased that you are able to explain some of the intricacies of potions brewing in a clear, concise way. He wondered if you might like to assist another student." Albus hoped to challenge the boy into action.

The Headmaster watched as Severus' toe kicked a stone down the path; it bounced and ricocheted until it came to rest next to Hagrid's garden. Severus had his hand at his mouth, chewing at a cuticle. Seeming to feel the older wizard's inspection, the young wizard altered his motion to run the finger around his mouth.

"Do you think you would like the responsibility of coaching another student, Severus? I will grant Slytherin points for assisting this student." Albus observed the calculation on the young face as he fought with himself about the offer.

A suspicious look crossed the Slytherin's face. "Who, sir?"

"Mr. Lupin," Albus said wryly, as he looked back up the hill toward the castle.

"He's a Gryffindor, sir."

"Hmhmm."

Severus' lips pressed tightly together. "He won't..."

"Yes?"

"They'll find out, sir."

"Mr. Lupin did not share the information about the unicorn foal, did he?"

"Well... No, not exactly." The young wizard's discomfort seemed to grow.

"It would please me very much if you could find it within yourself to assist Mr. Lupin."

A deep sigh escaped the young Slytherin. He shuffled in place; his boot toe dug a small divot in the rocky ground. It was clear he did not want to do this. Yet the opportunity to be given points was tempting Severus, while his characteristic tendency to bear a grudge was equally strong.

It seemed his ward battled several different options before he responded.

"All right," Severus said in a very weak voice. "No one else though."

"Of course not, Severus. You already have your hands full with your own lessons," Albus answered, a smile crinkling the corners of his eyes. He rested a hand on the boy's shoulder and knocked on Hagrid's door.

"Headmaster Dumbledore." Hagrid's smiled as he opened the door. "I see yeh brung Severus with yeh."

"I believe there was something you thought might be of interest, Hagrid?"

"I found sommat yesterday, Professor. I got it here in this basket," he replied, indicating a covered willow reed container next to the hearth. "Take a look, an' tell me wha' yeh think, Severus."

Cautiously, the boy flipped the lid open and peered into the dark depth. A small, screeching series of peeps sounded. Severus frowned at Hagrid. "Owls?"

"Yeah, th' tree was knocked down by one of th' thestrals yesterday. Spooked th' owls from th' nest."

"What kind are they?"

"They're long eared owlets. I was wonderin' if yeh'd help me with 'em. Headmaster said yeh could have one of 'em ter train."

"I - I have an owl, Hagrid."

"Sure enough yeh do. But Cyclops is not a good owl for yeh; he was someone else's an' they never forget that. One of these will train up real good for yeh. Now look at that! He wants yeh ter give him sommat ter eat. Jus' from that bowl on th' shelf." Hagrid pointed to the breakfront.

Removing the red checked cloth, Severus selected a piece of raw meat and presented it to Hagrid.

"No, it's too big, Severus. Yeh've gotta give him smaller bits. Listen ter them, all wantin' ter eat now they smell th' meat. That's it, just little bits fer now. Watch yer fingers, they're not real good about what's the food an' what's not."

"They look a bit peculiar without their feathers. Don't they get cold, Hagrid?" Severus asked.

"It takes time before they get 'em. They get cold without they mum ter keep 'em warm, so that's why they're in this basket."

Feeding another owlet a bit of raw meat, Severus looked up to Hagrid. "I thought you said to leave fledglings alone."

"Well yeah, you should, 'cept this was different. The nest was ruined and th' parents can't protect 'em without th' nest; foxes will get 'em, so I took 'em in."

"The owls abandoned them?"

One large hand rested on Hagrid's wide belt, while the other rubbed at the fuzzy beard thoughtfully. "They didn't want ter leave 'em, Severus. But when I found 'em, they knew I would take care of 'em."

Severus bit at his lip, swallowing deeply. The Headmaster saw him fight back the emotions that threatened to spill out. Albus squeezed his shoulder and drew him close.

"I don't really need an owl," Severus said thickly.

"Maybe yeh don't; but they need ter have sommat for their own. They like ter have someone ter run errands for."

"I haven't errands that need running, Hagrid."

"Well... Yeh might need one some time in the future, don't yeh think?"

Slender fingers tore the meat into smaller pieces and continued to feed the owlets. "Maybe."

"Now that one there, th' one pushin' the others away, is a bit o' a pushy owl. That one," he pointed to a slightly smaller owlet, "watches wha's goin' on and takes advantage when th' others are fightin' one another. He's the smartest one of th' bunch."

Albus silently observed the patient feeding process for some time. He'd spent the past several days worrying over Vagus Malfoy's request. His decision to permit his charge to spend time in [Author ID1: at Fri Sep 29 01:01:00 2006 ]Malfoy's home was a calculated gamble, the gamble that he could prevent an outright challenge to his guardianship.

"I heard th' Malfoys invited yeh for Boxin' Day. Yeh been there before?"

"I don't know them," Severus said hesitantly.

"Yeh know Lucius."

Severus shrugged noncommittally.

"Mr. Malfoy thinks you need to meet more Slytherins," Albus commented.

"I live in Slytherin, Headmaster."

Puzzled by the response, he rubbed his long white beard. "Wouldn't you like to meet people who'd been in Slytherin a long while ago? There are some very fine wizards that claim that membership quite proudly."

The intense preoccupation with feeding the owlets continued, though the hand faltered momentarily.[Author ID1: at Fri Sep 1 23:25:00 2006 ]

"They won't like me," Severus said plainly.

"Why would you think that?" Albus asked.

"I'm not a pure-blood, Headmaster."