You'll Never Be Alone

Severus Snape was not having a good day. He had gotten an owl from Minerva, requesting that he meet her to discuss his...attitude...toward his students, and to come up with alternatives for improvements for next term. Leave it to her to ruin his summer vacation. She simply didn´t understand. He had reasons for being the strict disciplinarian that he was. It was for their own good. So he had flown all the way from Hogwarts to London in the pouring rain just to be lectured by the annoyingly well-meaning Transfigurations teacher. He felt a cold coming on.

After pretending to agree to her terms, Snape got up from the table, grumbled something about "see you next term", and stepped out of the Leaky Cauldron into muggle London. Ignoring the strange looks both he and his broomstick got, he turned the corner and bumped into a very large, purple man.

Vernon Dursley looked up from the child he had been yelling at and turned to see a sallow-looking man dressed all in black and carrying a broomstick. He looked the man up and down, as the man in black did the same to him. Vernon Dursley did not like him at all. He did not approve of such attire.

"Excuse me," Snape said, eyeing the large purple man, who just stared back. Snape looked down at the little crying child who the man had just been scolding. At the moment the child was trying to fight off a rather large boy with matted blond hair, who was swatting at him and trying to steal his glasses.

`Stupid muggles,´ he thought. `Don´t even watch out for their own children.´ As the large purple man continued to stare at Snape, the blond boy began a new taunt. He ran up and down the block with the other boy´s glasses, yelling "scarhead! scarhead!"

`How uninventive,´ thought Snape. But then he stopped short. His mind was running wild, back to his school days. That boy´s face looked awfully familiar. Those eyes looked familiar. "Scarhead..." Suddenly it dawned on him. He ran to the little crying boy and picked him up.

Harry looked curiously at the strange man in black who had just picked him up, and he almost stopped crying. The man was holding him very gently, brushing back his hair to look at that nasty scar that Dudley always made fun of.

"Potter?" said the nice man in black. Through his sniffling, Harry asked how the nice man knew his name. But the nice man didn´t answer.

"Why are you crying Harry?" Snape asked instead. Strangely enough, he felt anger fill him as Harry told tearfully about getting in trouble because Dudley teased him. Looking around at the nearly empty street, Snape chanced a small charm. "Accio glasses."

The blond pig of a boy screeched as Harry´s glasses flew out of his hands and into Snape´s. At this, Vernon Dursley jumped as the realization hit him.
"You!" His face cycled through five different shades of purple. "We don´t approve of your kind here. Get away from my family! You...you freak!" He began shaking violently as Snape glared at him.

"Shut up Dursley! Harry is not your family. Dammit! Have you no idea what I could do to you? How dare you treat Lily´s child like this! Like common low-life trash!"

Vernon Dursley´s breathing was coming in harsh gasps now. "If you even try to turn me or...or my Dudley into a...toad, or something, why I´ll..."

"You´ll what Dursley? Run to your muggle policemen? Tell your mum the big bad wizard hurt you? What would they say, Dursley? Think they would believe you?"

Harry watched in silence as the nice man scolded Uncle Vernon. He liked this man. No one else had ever been so nice to him. He wondered who the man was. Then the man turned to him and smiled. He put his hand on Harry´s forehead and muttered something Harry couldn´t understand. Whatever it was though, Harry liked it. It made him feel very warm and calm. He didn´t want the nice man to leave, but after a second he put Harry down and walked right up to Uncle Vernon. He grabbed Uncle Vernon´s shirt and must have said something, because when the nice man let go, Uncle Vernon grabbed his cousin´s hand rather roughly and said in a choked voice, "Come along, Harry."

Severus Snape watched as the three receded down the street, then turned back and went into the Leaky Cauldron where, thankfully, Minerva McGonagall still sat.

"Problem, Severus?" she asked with slight amusement at the urgent look on the Potions Master`s face. He looked around quickly before sitting across from her at the small table and leaning in close to whisper.

"You will never believe who I just saw outside." At this she looked even more amused, making Snape slightly angry.

"Alright, Severus. Alright. I´ll play. Who?"

"Harry Potter." At this McGonagall could no longer contain herself. She threw her head back and laughed. People in the bar turned away from their conversations to stare at the Hogwarts professors. It was several minutes before McGonagall calmed down sufficiently to allow herself to speak.

"Oh Severus, you´re too much. You realize you can´t possibly be telling the truth. Do you know how many people there are in England? What are the chances of seeing Harry Potter in London? Besides you know the muggles are supposed to keep a low profile of him, for his own safety..." The amusement on her face slowly receded as she saw the annoyance on Snape´s face. He wasn´t kidding.

"Merlin, what happened?" It was finally plain to her that the Potions Master was not happy with what he had seen. A shred of fear slowly crept its way into her heart as Snape related to her the events he had witnessed.

"They´re the worst muggles I´ve ever seen, Minerva. They have a very...medieval attitude...towards magic. I wouldn´t be surprised if they never told him anything about who he is or who his parents were."

The two sat in silence for several minutes, each lost in thought, trying to think of anything that could be done. Finally...

"Arabella..." McGonagall looked up into the young man´s face. He looked triumphant, though she didn´t quite understand why.

"What about her?"

"She´s supposed to be Potter´s babysitter right? And the muggles don´t know she´s a witch. She could easily keep an eye on him, if nothing else, and report to Dumbledore if they treat Harry any worse."

"Yes, you´re right," McGonagall nodded in agreement. "I´ll watch the muggles´ house for the rest of the day, and I´ll meet you at Arabella´s at midnight."

* * * * *

Vernon Dursley was not in a good mood. He hated wizards. All of them. He hated Lily. He hated that bum Potter. But most of all, he hated Harry. That boy had nearly gotten him killed today. Or worse, turned into some sort of animal. But he would be sorry. Oh yes. He would pay.

Pulling into 4 Privet Drive, Vernon noticed a cat perched on his lawn, writing something with a feather quill. No. That couldn´t be it. The cat was playing with the quill. Cats don´t write. But for some reason this animal made him feel uneasy, especially when it looked up from its parchment to glare at him. Vernon couldn´t help thinking that this situation looked awfully familiar, but quickly chased the thought out of his mind.

He ran inside and began to complain loudly to his wife Petunia about her funny sister and those queer people of hers. He suggested that perhaps they should make Harry weed the front lawn as punishment for being one of them, and Petunia, after mumbling something about him being only three years old, agreed. After making sure the cat was gone, Vernon shoved Harry outside and ordered him to pull out all the dandelions from the garden, chuckling over his ingenious choice of punishment.

* * * * *

Later that night, Severus Snape apparated to Privet Drive and, seeing the tabby waiting for him on the sidewalk, followed it to Arabella Figg´s door. He knocked twice on the oak door and waited not-so-patiently for several seconds before muttering "Alohomora" and walking in.

This was a mistake.

"Petrificus totalus!" Snape fell to the floor, nearly missing the cat, who had slinked in the door behind him. Minerva McGonagall shifted back to her human form, looking very sour indeed. Arabella only chuckled lightly at her mistake as she moved around the fallen Potions Master to close the door.

"Really, Arabella, you knew we were coming. You could have hurt him." She motioned to Snape.

"Oh, he´ll be alright. He´ll just have a bump on his head. And he´ll be cranky. So, not much different than usual." She walked into the kitchen as a tea kettle whistled, laughing at her own joke. McGonagall huffed and puffed a little as she moved to revive her colleague.

Snape sat up with a jolt, holding his head and cursing under his breath about "cranky, paranoid old witches." As he fumbled around in his robes for his wand, McGonagall conjured him an ice pack and helped him to the sofa. He glared at Arabella, who was returning from the kitchen, levitating a tray laden with a tea kettle and three tea cups in front of her. She was still chuckling. Snape swore some more and grabbed the tea before she even had a chance to set it down.

"I´m sorry, Severus. I´m only an old woman after all. When someone `magic´s´ my door open, I have the right to be paranoid." Snape sneered in reply.

"Well then. What is so important that you had to see me about it tonight?"

"Harry," McGonagall began. And, as Snape refused to say anything until his headache dissipated, she related the story of what had happened that day outside the Leaky Cauldron.

"Honestly, Arabella. I knew they weren´t the best people, but I never dreamed they would be so unfair to the poor boy. And this afternoon, when they thought no one was looking, they made Harry weed the garden. He sat on the lawn picking out dandelions with his bare hands." At this addition Snape´s head shot up.

"They made a three-year-old boy weed the garden?" McGonagall opened her mouth to answer, but was cut off by Arabella instead.

"Severus, why do you care so much? I mean, you hated James. Everyone knows that. You´re not particularly fond of children, and you don´t give a dragon´s egg that he survived You-Know-Who´s attack. So what is it about this boy that concerns you so much?"

Snape took the time to glare at her before giving his answer. "As you seem to think that I am an unfeeling, cold-hearted son of a bitch, I don´t know why you give a damn about my opinion. But I will answer your question anyway. He is Lily´s son. Lily was my best and only friend at Hogwarts, besides Dumbledore. In some ways she was even better than Dumbledore. She...treated me as an equal. I will always remember that, and I will do anything to keep her child safe from harm."

"Is that all?" McGonagall regarded him with a teasing look in her eyes.

"Harry...today...he looked at me with so much...trust. So much admiration. I´ve never had that before. Never..."

"Alright, alright Severus. You´ve sold me on it. I´ll keep a better eye on him." Arabella laughed again and poured more tea into his cup. "Here, let me find you a potion for that headache of yours."

* * * * *

Half an hour later, Severus Snape was walking back to the corner of Privet Drive so he could dissapparate back to Hogsmeade, when something made him turn around to the Dursley´s house. Approaching the residence, he heard a soft sobbing coming from a tree in the front yard. Looking more closely, he saw Harry, dressed in pajamas, sitting in a little tree house.

"Harry?" he called softly. "Harry, what are you doing up there?"

"I don´t know. Can`t get down," the little voice called back.

"What do you mean?"

"I was sleeping, in my cupboard. Then Dudley waked me up and ran after me. Then I got here. Don´t know how. I can´t get down." Snape nodded in understanding then. Harry´s magic was acting up. And very strongly for someone his age. Wait...

"Sleeping in your cupboard? What cupboard?"

"Under the stairs," came the little voice again. "Help me. Can`t get down."

"Alright, child, hold on." Looking up and down the street, Snape decided it was sufficiently deserted, and the muggles would be asleep. He levitated Harry down to the ground, then picked him up.

Harry liked this nice man in black, and was so happy to see him again. He felt so safe in his arms. The man brushed his hair back and told him that it was o.k. He didn´t have to cry anymore. Then he said a funny word again and the door opened. He carried Harry to his bed in his cupboard and asked him if he would like anything.

"No. I´m tired," was all Harry said. "Don´t leave!"

The nice man in black smiled. Then he pointed a smooth wooden stick at the bed. It glowed for a minute, then became very soft and warm. Harry smiled and, all of a sudden, threw his arms around the nice man, trapping him in a big hug.

Snape stared down at Harry for a minute, very surprised, before giving in and hugging him back. When the child finally let go, he tucked him in and muttered a sleeping charm, wishing he could do more about the bed. Standing up to leave, he sighed and looked down at the sleeping boy once more.

"I know you will never remember me, Harry, when you get to Hogwarts. I know I´ll just be the mean old Potions Master to you. But I will be there to protect you. You´re not alone and you never will be. I want you to remember that." He stepped out and closed the cupboard door softly behind him.

Walking to the front door, he muttered another spell, and chuckled softly to himself.

"I believe it will sufficiently hurt Dursley´s pride to wake up with green hair." And with that he left Privet Drive behind.

* * * * *

That night, Harry slept peacefully and dreamt about the nice man in black. He felt very safe and warm, and somehow knew that, someday, everything would be alright.

"PETUNIA!!!" Vernon Dursley was not having a good day. It was only 6:30 in the morning and already he had woken up to find everything terribly wrong. Well...not everything. In fact, it was just his hair. But this was enough for him. Anything out of the ordinary was completely unacceptable. And waking up with green hair could certainly be classified as unacceptable.

"PETUNIA!!!" His face was now a lovely shade violet. "LOOK WHAT YOUR NEPHEW DID!!"

Petunia came scurrying out into the hall, a half dressed Dudley struggling in her arms. She took one look at her husband and let out a little shriek. Dudley, taking advantage of her moment of weakness, slid out of her grasp. He then proceeded to bound down the stairs yelling, "Scarhead´s in trouble!"

Harry was yanked out of his sleep by the sound of his cousin pounding on the door. He let out a small sigh. He had been having such a nice dream. He was with the nice man who he´d met the day before. And there had been a lady in his dream holding him. He remembered her soft red hair coming down close to his face. She had been singing to him...

The door to his cupboard flew open to reveal the steaming figure of his uncle, whose face had gone very purple.

"YOU DID THIS!" Vernon yanked Harry off of his cot and held him several feet off the floor, forcing him to look his uncle in the eye.

"LOOK AT MY HAIR! I CAN´T GO TO THE OFFICE LIKE THIS!!" Had he not been so afraid, Harry would have found this all very amusing. His uncle, by this point, looked very much like a steaming plum. And the green hair clashed horribly with his deep purple skin. But Harry had never seen his uncle so angry. He tried in vain to explain that he couldn´t have done it: he didn´t know how. But as always his uncle wouldn´t listen. Harry began to cry.

Then, to his amazement, Aunt Petunia muttered something about "Maybe it wasn´t him. After all, you saw that strange man in London..."

Vernon Dursley turned slowly to look at his wife. Was she sticking up for this brat? What was she thinking? But then, she did have a point. Harry wouldn´t have dared defy him so soon after being forced to weed the garden. He put down the child roughly.

"Get upstairs, you little brat, and get dressed. You´re going to Mrs. Figg´s today. We´re not taking you out in public again for a while." He watched as Harry ran up the stairs followed by Dudley, who was chunking his toy soldiers at him.

* * * * *

After promising his uncle that she would buy him some hair dye at the market, and persuading him to wear a hat for the rest of the day, Aunt Petunia left the house with Harry and they made their way to Mrs. Figg´s.

"Now Harry," she began as she pulled him along at a pace that was almost too fast for him. "I want you to behave perfectly for Mrs. Figg. She goes through a lot of trouble to deal with you and I don´t want you trying any of your...tricks...while you`re there. Is that clear?"

"Yes, Aunt Petunia," the little voice said solemnly. He was confused. What tricks did Aunt Petunia mean? Did she mean like ending up in the tree house? Or like turning Uncle Vernon´s hair green? But he hadn´t done any of those things. At least, he hadn´t meant to. He wouldn´t have known how anyway.

"Harry!" He looked up to see Mrs. Figg waving frantically from her porch. He raised a small hand and waved sadly back. As nice as Mrs. Figg was, he didn´t much like being at her house. It always smelled funny, and he when he wasn´t looking at pictures of every cat she´d ever had, he was tripping over one of the animals. He could see that she now had a new one: he´d never seen this cat that was coming up to him now. He sat down on the porch to pet it. As he sat stoking behind its ears, he examined it. It was a nice-looking cat. It had the strangest markings around its eyes. `Like glasses,´ he thought as he smiled slightly. The cat seemed to smile back at him, which he found very odd.

He heard his Aunt´s receding footsteps and looked up to see Mrs. Figg smiling at him.

"Come on, dear. I´ll get you some milk and cookies," she said before turning to the cat. "Come on, Athena, I´ll make you some tea and we´ll talk once I get Harry settled."

Following Mrs. Figg back into the house, Harry turned to look at the cat. `Tea?´ he thought. `For a cat?´ He was aware that Mrs. Figg talked to her cats all the time, but never like this. Not like they were people. And she had never offered them tea before.

He walked over to the table and climbed into a chair. Mrs. Figg placed a glass of milk and a plate of Oreo´s in front of him and he munched slowly while watching Athena. She seemed to be reading a newspaper. Harry looked at the paper more closely. It had a funny name. He couldn´t read, but he knew he´d never seen that name on any of Uncle Vernon´s papers before. And the pictures were...moving. He got the impression that Aunt Petunia wouldn´t have approved.

Mrs. Figg began to talk again to Athena as she brought tea and a cup and saucers to the table. Harry turned his attention to them.

"You know, Athena. It´s lucky Severus brought the Dursley´s to our attention more closely." The cat meowed in agreement, and began to lap up the tea that Mrs. Figg had put in the saucer for it.

"It took quite a bit of persuasion to get Petunia to bring Harry here. I think she´s afraid we´ll influence him. I´m just glad Vernon doesn´t know about us." The cat meowed again.

Mrs. Figg started to laugh a little. "You know, I feel a little bad for knocking Severus out yesterday. I guess I am a little too paranoid. I should put some more enchantments on the house." She giggled again. The cat said nothing.

"Is his head better?" The cat nodded. "Good. So he´s back to his normal, moody self. That´s nice to hear. Wouldn´t want to confuse his students next term." She laughed again. Harry wondered vaguely what she was talking about. He also noticed how stiff the cat had become.

"Oh honestly, Athena," Mrs. Figg almost pleaded. "I´m only teasing him a little. Come on. It´s funny!" The cat growled deep in its chest. "Oh come on. You two don´t get along that well. You make fun of him too sometimes. Why are you so protective all of a sudden?" The cat growled again before turning its head to look at Harry. He was very confused now, looking between his babysitter and her pet. They seemed to know something he didn´t, and it made him very uneasy.

Finally Mrs. Figg turned back to her tea. "Oh alright. I understand. But really, you´d think the lot of you could at least keep a sense of humor." The cat did not look pleased. They all sat in silence for a good while, busy with their various refreshments. Eventually, Mrs. Figg looked up at her clock and a little gasp escaped her lips.

"Athena! You´ll be late!" She exclaimed. The cat jumped off the table as if it were on fire and ran out the back door, disappearing over the fence. Mrs. Figg chuckled again and shook her head. She then turned to see her little guest´s very bewildered face. This, for some reason, made her laugh harder.

"She just had a prior engagement," she explained through tears of laughter. "Come and sit on the couch with me, little one. I have a surprise for you."

Severus Snape sighed, sinking into the battered couch that was the dominant feature of his living room at Hogwarts. The room was very sparsely furnished. Besides the couch, it contained a small table and two chairs, a desk, and a bookcase piled with volumes about potions and the dark arts. Severus leaned into the pillows and closed his eyes, thinking fleetingly that the couch was extremely comfortable, despite its appearance. But eventually his mind wandered back to the events that had taken place over the last few days. He knew he had to do something to help Harry: he was not a man to sit idly by while something happened, if he could help it. What he didn´t know was why he cared so much. It was true that he was concerned of the fact that Lily´s child wasn´t receiving the care he deserved, but he somehow felt that something else was drawing him to the child, aside from his parentage. Perhaps he should talk to Albus about it. The old man always seemed to have an answer to his problems. He drew in a deep breath and, letting it out, pulled himself to his feet and began his trek to the Headmaster´s office.

As if in answer to his thoughts, a soft knock sounded on his solid oak door. He opened to see a smiling Albus looking back at him. He couldn´t help but smile slightly back at the wizard.

"Come in, Albus." Severus stepped aside to let his mentor into the room.

"So, Severus, Minerva tells me you see a potential problem with young Mr. Potter´s living arrangements." There was a brighter-than-usual twinkle in the old man´s eyes that served to both relieve and annoy the Potions Master. Leave it to him to cut right to the heart of the matter. In a way, this lifted a great burden off of Severus´s shoulders, and he found it much easier to speak his mind.

"He´s Lily´s boy, Albus. I feel I owe him something. I did promise after all..." Oh, did he ever -- It had been a stifling, rainy day the day Harry was born. At the time, Severus had already begun working as a spy for the Order of the Phoenix. That meant he had had to work in close contact with not only Lily, who had been a dear friend during their years at Hogwarts, but also, to his disgust, with James, Sirius, and Remus. The Marauder´s had never approved of his friendship with Lily. In fact, with the possible exception of Remus, they had actively voiced their opinions against it. It had taken a considerable amount of groveling on Lily´s part to make James and Severus treat each other like human beings, let alone how nearly impossible it had been for her to convince her husband that Severus was no longer allied with Voldemort. So, naturally, James had been more than reluctant to have Severus in the same room as his newly born son. But in the end, he had allowed him a few minutes alone with Lily and Harry in the hospital room.

Severus remembered how nervous he had been walking in. Not wanting to provoke James, he had edged over to the bed, trying to keep a respectful distance between himself and Lily. She had looked so happy that day, with Harry in her arms. She had given him a warm smile and beckoned for him to sit on the chair next to the bed. He remembered glancing at the doorframe, making sure James was not watching, before lowering himself into the chair. Lily had insisted that Severus hold Harry, and, to his great surprise, it had not been an unpleasant experience. He had rather liked having the little boy in his arms, and had felt strangely as though he could, and would have, protected him from anything. He was usually not fond of children in general, but already he had rather liked Lily´s little son. The only bad thing he could have thought to say about him was that he looked too much like his father.

As Severus had gazed down at the sleeping child in his arms, Lily had geared their conversation into a very serious direction. The Potters had already known, by this time, that Voldemort was interested in their demise. They had been very nervous about bringing their child into the world, but had eventually decided that they simply couldn´t allow their lives to end while they were still alive. So Lily was, quite understandably, very worried about what would become of her son if something were to happen to her and her husband. This was when Severus had found out that Sirius was to be the boy´s godfather. Lily had apparently had misgivings about his abilities to care for a child, however. She had called him something along the lines of "charming, insensible git." Severus had then promised her that if, Merlin forbid, something happened to her and James, Harry would be in good hands, even if it meant that he himself had to interfere with Sirius´s care of him. Lily had seemed extremely relieved at this declaration, and had turned their conversation back to a more pleasant topic. It was then that Severus had regretted his rash promise. He had no idea how to make certain that Harry would always be in capable hands, and something told him that this promise would one day come back to haunt him.

Severus was pulled sharply from his thoughts when Albus placed his hand on the Potions Master´s forearm.

"Are you all right?" On the surface, he looked generally concerned. But Severus noticed the amused gleam in the older man´s eyes that seemed to be reserved for whenever Severus mentioned any of the Marauders. It was a welcomed look sometimes, when comic relief was needed. But now it only annoyed the younger man more.

"Oh, perfect. Never better." Severus didn´t bother to hide the sarcasm that dripped from his words. His mentor sighed.

"So it´s more than just the fact that the boy is Lily´s. Tell me, child. What is it?" Severus shrugged slightly in return and looked at the floor.

"I just don´t know what to do," he added after a pause. The Headmaster chuckled slightly and clapped his friend on the shoulder as he stood up and walked to the door.

"I know you´ll think of something," he winked, and left Severus to his thoughts.

`It´s been a very long day,´ Severus mused depressingly as he plodded over to his bookshelf. He ran his fingers along the spines of the books, searching for something to help him wind down. His hand stopped at a tattered volume that he often turned to when he needed to relax. It was a simple book of wizard children´s stories that his grandmother had given him when he was a child. He pulled it off the shelf and sank back onto the couch.

The stern Potions Master smiled slightly as he carefully opened the book to the title page. It was quite an ordinary title page, as the book seemed to be quite an ordinary book. But Severus knew that the book was not ordinary. Its true contents could only be seen by the person whose name was written on the title page. His grandmother had put this enchantment on the book as a safety measure. She knew Severus´s parents would never have allowed him to have a "silly" childish comfort such as this.

He began reading the fairy tales, letting himself become ensnared by the charming, fantastic adventures. He basked in the happy memories that washed over him of reading the book together with his grandmother when he was a child. These stories had been such a welcome escape from the loneliness and fear that had encompassed his childhood. He stopped short, and suddenly smiled very broadly. He knew exactly what to do for Harry.

Harry watched wide-eyed as Mrs. Figg walked back to the couch carrying a rather flat package wrapped in brown paper. He wondered what the surprise could be. He had never gotten very many, and none of them had been good, as they had all been from Dudley. But Mrs. Figg was smiling broadly as she sat back down next to him and pulled him into her lap.

"Now Harry. Your Aunt Petunia has agreed that it would be all right for you to have this. It´s a secret book, you see, sweetie," Mrs. Figg explained as Harry carefully pulled away the brown wrapping.

"I promised your Aunt that you would keep this as our own little secret. You mustn´t ever show it to Dudley or your Uncle Vernon. Do you understand dear?"

Harry turned to look at Mrs. Figg. He had no idea why she was telling him to keep this a secret. But he´d never had a secret to keep before, and he thought it sounded exciting. He smiled broadly and nodded. Then he turned back to his new possession and looked at the cover. There wasn´t much on it, except for the title, which he couldn´t read. He opened it to the first page, where he was surprised to recognize the shape of his name. It was written below another name that had been scratched out. Harry wondered why in the world someone would want to do this, but thought it useless to ask Mrs. Figg. He instead began looking through the book. He saw that it was a book of stories, and wished that he could read the words. But until he learned, the pictures would be entertaining enough. They were fascinating. There were colorful, lively illustrations of things Harry had never seen before. Tiny little people living in lavish holes in the ground; beautiful stone palaces; kings and princesses; winged horses; animals that seemed to breathe fire. Harry was deeply engrossed in these magical wonders when Mrs. Figg began to speak again.

"Sweetie, the man who sent this to you included a little note with it. Don´t you want to know what it says?" At the little boy´s nod, she held the note out so that he could see it too, and began to read.

--Dear Harry,
I was reading this book last night and thought of you. My grandmother gave this to me when I was a little boy not much older than you are. I loved it so much and it helped me every time I felt lonely. I know your Aunt and Uncle don´t give you very many things, so I hope this is something you can enjoy. I want you to remember that you´ll never be alone, Harry. If you ever feel lost or afraid, I want you to remember that it will get better. Don´t ever give in.
--A Friend--

Harry watched the words go by as Mrs. Figg read him the letter. He wasn´t exactly sure what the person meant, but it sounded good...knowing he wouldn´t have to be lonely. He stared at the letter and thought about who the person could be. Perhaps it was that nice man in black he had met yesterday. Or perhaps not. But whoever it turned out to be, he liked them already. He turned around to Mrs. Figg again and smiled a very contented smile. She chuckled to herself and muttered something that sounded like, "Severus, you´re amazing."

* * * * *

Two hours later, Petunia came to pick Harry up from Mrs. Figg´s care. As he pulled on and tied his shoes, Harry could hear his babysitter and his Aunt having an argument in the next room. Apparently, his Aunt had lost, because she came out of the room looking extremely annoyed. She took one look at the book Harry was holding and began to tremble, but then nodded curtly to Mrs. Figg, and took Harry out the door.

They walked back to 4 Privet Drive in absolute silence. As soon as Petunia opened the front door, she hid Harry, and his horrid book, behind her. She answered her husband´s "Good afternoon, dear," with a whimper and an "I´ll get supper on the table." She grasped Harry´s book and thrust it onto the cot in his cupboard, and told him simply to behave himself. And for once in his life, Harry went willingly into his cramped cupboard under the stairs, and immersed himself in the fairy tale worlds that would provide solace for years to come.

* * * * *

"Arabella´s owl just arrived with a most interesting letter, Severus," Albus teased his friend as the younger man wandered into his office.

"She said that you sent young Mr. Harry Potter a beautiful enchanted book with a very heartfelt note besides."

Severus simply scowled in reply. Did he always have to mock him like that? What did he honestly expect? Did he really think Severus was the cold-hearted bastard most people thought him to be? It was disappointing. He thought Albus, of all people, would know better. The Headmaster seemed to sense his friend´s feelings, though, because then he continued.

"Oh, I was only joking, child. It think it´s wonderful what you did. Really."

"Well what did you expect, Albus? For me to sit by and do nothing?" Severus´s voice dripped with its signature sarcasm. His mentor chuckled.

"Of course not. That´s not you. I don´t think I´ve ever seen you just sit by and let something happen. No. You always have to put your two cents in." He was still laughing. Severus shot him a severe look, which only served to amuse the older man further. Finally, Severus had had enough. He got out of the chair and walked to the door.

"I made a promise to Lily, Albus, and I intend to keep it. Now, if you will excuse me, I have potions to brew for Poppy. I´ll see you at dinner." Severus scowled and closed the door, leaving the old man to his mirth.