A few days after Harry almost got kidnapped at the playground, he had been sitting on one of London's buses, riding from stop to stop with no destination in mind. He liked riding on the bus, he knew that he could enjoy the cool air it gave him, and he could sometimes even find change that had fallen in the seats for a snack or two.
Harry had gotten lucky that morning when he settled in his favorite spot in the back and found a tenner under the row of sticky seats. He happily stared out the window, thinking of how he was going to spend the money on a pair of trainers from the charity shop and a sandwich, maybe he could even buy some chips. Then someone sat beside him, pulling Harry suddenly from his daydreams and causing him to stiffen in an attempt to scoot as close to the window as he could.
"I suppose you think you are clever, do you, boy?" a silky voice drawled at him.
Harry shut down any look he might have had on his face as he turned to see it was the man in the dark clothes that tried to attack him at the playground. He remembered that the man had somehow been able to resist Harry's magical demands to go away, a feat that no one else he had tried it on before had managed. He also remembered that the man had been trying to pull him to the edge of the forest and said that he would 'leave him alone after he finished his business', as if Harry didn't know exactly what that meant he was planning on doing.
"I-I don't know what you mean, sir," Harry said quietly, hoping the man would leave him be. Harry knew the man had him blocked from the exit and he wouldn't be able to do his magic in front of all the people on the bus or else he would surely be caught doing something 'freaky.'
They could attack him for it, beat him up. They could kill him, it probably wouldn't be hard.
Don't show fear, but don't antagonize him… Harry thought to himself, a rule he used many times to slide out of sticky situations. He didn't want to start a fight, but he wouldn't back down so easily either. He had money in his pocket for food, the man had nothing Harry wanted. He did easily recognize the look of anger and disgust on the man's face though…
It was the same look he saw from people when they look at him for his whole life.
"You believe I took a rest in a playground of my own volition?" The man spoke in a harsh hiss; quiet, but sharp and angry. "Are you truly so idiotic to be showing such a blatant disregard for the Statue of Secrecy in front of a bunch of Muggles, boy?"
"P-please, sir, I dunno what you mean," Harry stammered nervously, unsure if the man was completely crazy or not. "I-I dunno 'bout any muggles or secrets. 'M sorry."
Harry tried to scrunch up small in his seat to get as far away from the angry man as he could. The man gave Harry a heated glare and only stared at him in silence while the bus continued on the usual course. Harry was panicking and trying real hard not to show it.
It had been a while since someone managed to trap Harry so easily.
Who was the man? Why did he come back again after Harry tried sending him away then put him to sleep? What did he want?
Harry didn't have any money, aside from the tenner he found, but he was afraid from the previous time he saw him, and the way the man was looking him over from top to bottom, that it wasn't his money the man wanted.
He doesn't get to touch me, at all, Harry though, letting the hot anger push away any fear.
Harry fixed the man with his fiercest glare. "What 'zactly, 'sir', do you want from me? 'Cause I don't have any money and my parents will be wantin' me home real soon."
The man (Snap? Snoop? Snake? Harry was sure he told him his name last time) snorted at him.
Rudely.
"Potter, unless you have begun referring to your relatives as your parents, I am well aware your parents died almost 10 years ago," the man said, knowing way too much about Harry. "Thus," the man smirked, "they are not oh so anxiously waiting for your arrival home."
Dead?
No, they couldn't be dead. If they were dead then Harry wouldn't ever find them and he had to find them. They had to tell him why they left him behind, why they couldn't be a family.
Despite Harry's confusion and shock at the man's information, he kept his face blank of emotions besides a glimmer of confusion that the man was apparently able to make out.
Harry didn't like him, not one bit. He acted as if he knew Harry, really knew him. If he did, then - then he was dangerous and Harry needed to run at his first chance.
Sighing heavily, the man suddenly grabbed Harry's wrist, ignoring the almost concealed flinch as he did so, and stood him up while pulling the chain to make the bus driver stop for them.
"Come, Potter, I still have to deliver your letter and answer any of your inane questions and would prefer to do so in more private accommodations," the man said.
Harry began to protest, but the man murmured something under his breath that completely cut off Harry's ability to speak. Harry began panicking in earnest then, he tried speaking over and over but found himself unable to make a single noise.
Frustrated at the new problem, and scared out of his mind, Harry was pulled off the bus by his wrist and yanked along behind the man down and completely ignored by the busy crowds on the sidewalk.
Where was he taking him? His house? An alleyway? The police station? Harry remembered him saying something about a Hogwarts, maybe a hospital?
God. Harry really, really hoped it wasn't going to be back to his aunt and uncle's home.
Harry had no intention on ever going back to Privet Drive until he had enough control of his magic to make his relatives regret every harsh word, every punishment, every refusal to even be a little bit nice to them. When he could be the one screaming and shaking them, only then would he go back.
The man continued down the sidewalk, completely ignoring all of Harry's attempts to break loose of his hold until he reached the outside of a deli.
"Listen, boy," and Harry couldn't conceal his flinch at that name so he averted his eyes away from the man's sharp gaze, "I gave up my lunch hour to track you down and as such you shall be informed of your upcoming enrollment while over a civilized meal. If this is in any way unacceptable to you, please, feel free to say something."
The man smirked at him as Harry opened his mouth and tried to do just that. The man smirked like… like it wasn't that Harry was too scared to talk, but that the man made sure he couldn't.
And Harry only knew one thing that could actually make someone not talk at all: magic.
Harry nodded at the man, not that he had a lot of other options apparently. He also looked the man over, trying to pick apart any detail that could help him.
The man stood tall and thin with shoulder length black hair and wore what seemed to be a black cloak over black slacks and a long sleeve black button up shirt. He was kind of ugly, with a big nose and skin that seemed way too white.
Harry carefully followed the man into the deli and sat at the table the man pointed at, relieved when he saw there were multiple others inside the deli enjoying a meal.
More witnesses hopefully meant a smaller chance of the man killing Harry or doing something just as bad.
The man sat across from Harry and flicked his hand beneath the table, causing Harry to flinch back in his chair. At the flick, instead of pain, Harry felt a tingle settle in the air. It felt both familiar and also unfamiliar.
The man eyed Harry for a long time before finally scowling at him. "I will start, Potter, by reminding you that my name is Professor Snape," he said. "I am one of the professors at Hogwarts."
Snape was real close to Snoop, so Harry wasn't too upset at not remember the name of a possible kidnapper.
"After our last meeting," Snape sneered at Harry, "my coworker, Professor McGonagall, gave me your letter and I offered to track you down and deliver it to you while gaining some answers."
The man looked at him in a really unfriendly way that made it look both as if he were in pain and also as if Harry himself were about to be in pain. Harry wanted to ask for his 'oh so mysterious', but apparently important, letter when the waiter came up and asked for their order. Snape barely even glanced at Harry before placing an order for two ham sandwiches, crisps, and two waters.
After the waiter walked off, Harry mumbled, a little embarrassed, "I don't got no money to give you for the food."
The professor scoffed. "I hardly think that a cheap deli lunch will drain my account on your behalf, Potter," he drawled. "Consider it an upfront payment for the answers you will provide me."
Harry glanced at the man through the black fringe that covered his forehead, "What questions?"
Snape sat up straighter and attempted to catch Harry's ever flickering green eyes with his own.
"Firstly, how did you render me… incapacitated," Snape grimaced, as if annoyed at his Harry beating and beating him the first time they met, "at our last meeting?"
Harry continued avoiding the professor's gaze as he carefully wondered what he should say. He knew better than to lay down his trump card, it sounded crazy to even admit he had magic. He also felt that the man wouldn't be so easily fooled by an innocence act either. Snape didn't seem to like Harry anyway, he didn't think he wanted to make it worse.
After a minute, Harry decided the safest story to give would be to use a bit of carefully chosen lies and explain himself with practiced confusion as he answered the 'professor'.
"'M not sure," Harry said. "I just didn't wanna go with you to that place and didn't wanna go to jail neither and next thing I knew you were sleepin' so I took off quick."
Harry peeked up at Snape's face to see how he reacted to Harry's half-truths and was relieved to see that the man seemed to be accepting it.
"Aah, accidental magic, likely set off by your ridiculous concerns," Snape said with a rude scoff.
Harry shrugged at the man's words, neither confirming or denying it, but realizing that the man seemed to be aware of Harry's magic. Which had to mean that the man had to be as magical as Harry was beginning to believe him to be.
Never, not ever, did Harry meet someone else with magic. One time he thought he did, but it was just a girl who was real good at card tricks.
Before the man could ask his next question, the waiter returned with the order. Snape carelessly pushed one of the plates and waters toward Harry who refused to even look at the plate until he asked his own question.
"You sure that after this I won't owe you nothin'?" Harry asked as sharply as he could. "'M not going to eat this then you try and ask for some sort of favor from me?"
That exact thing happened before and Harry had vowed to never accept food, money, or shelter from another person unless they were clear on what they wanted before he did. Then, if they changed their mind afterwards, Harry had no problem with making them hurt.
It was fair, in his opinion. Liars deserved to be punished, they deserved to be hurt.
"I will once again, and for the final time, assure you, Potter, that the only price I request for this meal is that you answer my questions." Snape rolled his eyes at Harry and even if Harry knew he didn't like him, even knowing the man didn't want to be there - free food was free food.
"Brill, thanks, sir." Harry gave him a little smile and began eating his food as quickly as he could.
It was one of his rules he learned - 'eat fast or don't eat'. Cause if someone hungrier showed up and they were stronger, they would take the food for himself. The rules all made sense, they all kept Harry alive.
Snape grimaced though, probably offended by Harry's lack of 'proper manners'. Some blokes were strange about that, they liked to pretend that they weren't bribing hungry kids with food for whatever it was they wanted.
"Once you have ceased attacking your food like a wild animal, I have more questions for you, boy," Snape said. "I believe that you will have some of your own for me as well."
Harry swallowed the big bite he had and scowled at Snape, hating - hating - to be called that.
'Boy'.
It was Harry's own rule that people didn't call him 'boy'. 'Boy' was someone without a name, someone who could be tossed in a gutter and left for dead because nobody cared.
One day, someone was going to care if Harry was in a gutter or not and he didn't want to be remembered as 'boy' to anyone else.
"Don't call me boy," Harry told Snape angrily. "I've got a name too, ya know. It's not like I'm callin' you 'man', is it?"
Snape inclined his head shortly in what seemed to be agreement of Harry's demand.
"As you wish, Potter," Snape said, still managing to sound like he was making fun of Harry in some way. "Now, I must request that you inform me why your letters have been unsuccessfully delivered by Owl Post."
"Owl Post?" Harry started to grin, picturing big owls with arms delivering letters to houses. So Snape was crazy, that wasn't a big problem, he still bought Harry food.
There were loads of crazy people in London, always screaming strange things and smelling bad. They didn't buy Harry food or talk about birds - Harry was pretty sure owls were like a fluffy bird thing - delivering mail.
More of the bums should be crazy like Snape, Harry decided with a nod to himself.
"Are you havin' me for a laugh?" Harry checked.
Snape lifted an eyebrow. "Do you mean to tell me that you, your relatives, and the acquaintances you have been staying with have been too thick to notice the owls that have been following you in attempts to deliver your Hogwarts letter?"
The professor still looked annoyed, but his tone sounded a little bit more surprised than truly irritated, so Harry tried to think about his question.
"Ya know, I did see some big fluffy birds last week," Harry said thoughtfully after gulping down the cold and clear water. He still had half of a sandwich left and he tried to sneak it in his pocket for later while he answered Snape.
"I thought they was a little weird to be hangin' around the alleys with all the noisy cars and people fightin' but I didn't think nothin' of it, did I?" Harry shrugged, happy that his theft of his own sandwich seemed to go unnoticed.
Then, because he thought it looked good, Harry tried to lift just one eyebrow like the man did.
"Those 'big fluffy birds', as you so intelligently stated, were owls, Mr Potter," Snape sighed. He had a pinched look, like maybe his head hurt. "The owls were dispatched to deliver your Hogwarts acceptance letter to you. Wizards utilize owls to deliver the post as they are intelligent, resilient, and capable creatures."
Harry forgot about his money, his sandwich, and his silly picture of fluffy birds with arms.
Wizards.
Wizards were magic, that was in every book in every library. Maybe Snape was crazy… or maybe neither of them were.
Maybe they were both just special.
"So it is magic that I can do?" Harry was too excited to do more than whisper as he slowly raised his hands while his belly flipped over and over.
It was real. It was really magic.
Harry was a wizard.
"What all, exactly, can you already do, Potter?" Snape asked real slow, his black eyes fixed on Harry's eyes, not that Harry noticed at that moment though.
Harry was still staring at his hands, unable to really accept that something he half-feared he made up was real. Harry wasn't crazy, he wasn't a freak, he wasn't a monster - he was magic. It was his relief about it all being real that made Harry say a little too much, much more than he normally would have.
"I can make things move without touching them," Harry admitted quietly, thinking of all the things he could do so easily after he practiced so much. "I can make people and animals do what I want. I can talk to snakes. I can move different places just by thinkin' about it. I can take away my cuts and bruises and make myself warm when it's cold out. I can make bad things happen to people who are mean to me… I can make them hurt, I could make them all hurt if I want."
And it was all real, it was all magic.
Harry's sudden happy laugh covered the gasp that fell from Snape's mouth, but Harry tried to pull it back immediately when he saw the way Snape's eyes widened.
Was it too much magic? Not enough magic? How much could Snape do? Did Harry have as much magic as he did?
"Potter," Snape said Harry's name even slower then, not as meanly as he had every time before. "You should know that Hogwarts will train you on how to control your magic so that you are only using it with the proper incantations and intentions. You will be expected to control yourself and to not needlessly use your magic against others. And…"
Snape hesitated, setting Harry's nerves on edge. "If I were you, I would not advertise your ability to communicate with serpents as it has not been viewed as a favorable ability by wizarding society in the past."
Harry looked up from his hands and fixed the professor with a hard and curious stare. He shouldn't have said all that, he knew better. It was like yelling before a fight, 'Hey! I have a knife to stab you with!'
Sneak attacks were only good because they were sneaky.
"I gotcha, sir," Harry said, embarrassed with his own inability to keep his secrets.
One stupid sandwich and Harry was spilling his guts to some greasy looking bloke.
"May I please have my letter now?" Harry hated asking for things, giving someone a chance to shoot him down, but he really wanted that letter. It was for a magic school - for people just like Harry.
A place where Harry could go and learn how to be the very best there ever was.
Harry could also tell there was a change in the professor's attitude and worried that he gave away too much information about his magic and wanted to end the conversation. He kind of hoped that the professor wouldn't remember what all he had admitted to.
Sneak attacks weren't just to use against other hungry kids, Harry had to use them on adults too. In fact, Harry mostly had to use them on adults.
Snape reached into his cloak without any other questions and handed Harry a thick envelope that stated simply on the front:
Mr. H. Potter
Back Row of the London Bus #32
London
Well, that explained how the man found him so easily. The address wasn't the only shock though, the worst one came after Harry looked over the required supplies lost.
Harry felt as if his heart dropped into his stomach when he realized the fatal flaw to his plan on running off to 'Wizard School'.
Stupid, it was stupid to think he'd get to go. Stupid to wish for anything so brilliant.
"S-sir.. does this Hoggywarts have any charity funds for kids with no money?" Harry checked, figuring already it didn't.
Snape sighed and rolled his eyes again. Harry ducked his head and tried to roll his own eyes - it wasn't hard to do, Harry wondered if he looked as fed up with people as Snape did when he rolled his eyes.
"Potter, firstly, the prestigious and advanced school for witches and wizards is called Hogwarts, not whatever nonsense name you just spewed," Snape said with an unimpressed sneer.
'Cause somehow it was Harry's fault they gave their school a dumb name that was hard to read?
Harry rolled his eyes.
"I regret that your relatives did not inform you, but when you go get your supplies from Diagon Alley I believe a trip to the Wizarding Bank, Gringotts, will enlighten you to your very much non-impoverished state," Snape told him, saying it real quick like he didn't want to say it to start with.
Harry was confused at most of what Snape said, but decided that he didn't want to ask what 'non-impoverished' or 'Gringotts' meant. Snape didn't say Harry couldn't go if he was poor and that was all Harry cared about. If he had to go somewhere to do shopping for supplies, well… It wasn't hard to maybe steal some stuff.
A cauldron might be hard, Harry saw one in a storybook and it was big enough to drop a bad kid in, but magic wands were probably teensy.
"Brill, sir," Harry said cheerfully. "How do I get to the magic store places?"
The two sat for a while longer as Snape described to Harry how to reach Diagon Alley and instructed him to first visit the bank to access his 'vault' to purchase his supplies. Harry kind of thought Snape was under the impression that Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia would be going with him and very carefully said nothing to make him believe otherwise.
It would ruin everything if Snape tried to involve caseworkers or the government in Harry's life. Especially when something good finally happened.
Once Snape had finished his instructions with information on how to find and board the train to school in September, Harry decided to try and ask a question about something that had been tickling the back of his mind since they were on the bus.
"Can I ask ya one more quick question? Sir," Harry tacked the stupid title on hastily, hoping if he was polite enough that the man might give in and answer it. People did that sometimes, if they thought Harry was nice then they'd be nice.
It didn't always work, but sometimes it did. It worked on Snape anyway.
Snape eyed Harry for a long time before he finally replied, "You may."
Harry summoned as much bravery as he could and tried to keep his face carefully clear from any of his emotions. It wouldn't do him any favors if the professor could see how badly he wanted an answer, Harry didn't have time for any sorta deal, he had wizard stuff to get.
"You said that my mum and dad are dead?" Harry said quickly, quietly. "Are ya sure?" he checked, hating how stupid he sounded.
Harry needed to know for sure though. He needed to know if he could quit looking in the face of every drug-addled bum he came across, if he could quit looking for eyes like his or a nose that seemed familiar.
Sometimes it could be dangerous, asking people if they had a kid they got rid of. Mostly it just hurt Harry's feelings, wondering if his parents ever cared to look for him like he was or not.
Harry blinked quickly down at the table, holding his breath, as he waited for Snape's answer. He wasn't sure if it was better or worse for his parents to be dead instead of simply not caring about him, but he knew he needed to know for sure.
"Oh, for Merlin's sake, child, does Petunia tell you nothing of your parentage?" Snape sounded angry and when Harry peeked up at him he could see that the professor's eyes were barely hiding some very real rage.
Why would Harry's question make him mad? Was it the question itself, he didn't like answering questions? Or did Harry do something to him on his own for Snape to look so angry?
Harry ducked his head again and wrapped his arms around his stomach. He clenched his nails into his skin, reminding himself it wouldn't do any good to provoke the angry adult across from him.
Harry had money, a sandwich, magic. Snape didn't matter at all. Except he might have known Harry's parents and that was just important enough to risk a slap or a kick.
"N-no, sir, 'm sorry," Harry said, blushing hotly since his stupid tongue never worked right when people were angry. "My aunt said that they d-dropped me off when I was a baby 'cause they didn't want no kids 'cause of the d-drugs and I ain't heard from them ever."
It was the truth.
Harry just wanted it to not be the truth.
"How dare she?" Snape hissed.
"How dare she…?" Harry was sick of hoping and he wanted to go - to run out and run far away - but Snape didn't say yes or no for sure yet! 'How dare she?' wasn't a real answer at all!
"Eat this." Snape shoved his untouched sandwich across the table to Harry and then folded his arms over his own chest. "Keep quiet, I will explain this once before some idiotic patron at a pub tries to do it…"
Harry quickly swapped the two sandwiches out, saving Snape's full one for later, and ate the other half of his while Snape talked. The sandwich started to make him feel sick though, especially when Snape talked about bad wizards, secret keepers, and a group of people who were kinda like superheroes fighting the Joker and his clown army.
James and Lily Potter, because those were Harry's parents' names, didn't do drugs. They didn't abandon Harry because they hated him… they died so that he didn't have to.
Harry could feel tears welling up at Snape's story and he forced his eyes go big while he blinked to make the tears go away. Harry didn't want to cry, he stopped crying a long time ago, and he wasn't going cry again just because - because…
Just because Harry was having kind of a completely mental day.
Finding out that he was famous and his parents didn't hate him were good things. It probably would have been better if Harry was told his parents were alive though. That might have been worth cryin' about.
After having his entire world flipped upside down and his head filled with new information, Harry listened patiently as Snape once again explained the directions to a pub called 'The Leaky Cauldron' and then on how to enter 'Diagon Alley'.
Finally, Harry was able to bid the older man good-bye and clutched his letter - his life line, his new start - to his chest and rushed off to begin joining the world he was always meant to be in…
Except first he had to buy some new trainers. Harry figured even wizards needed shoes without holes in them that squished his toes and let all the water soak his feet.
As Severus watched the Potter boy walk away from him, holding his letter as defensively as he did the sandwich he squirreled away, he decided it was time to pay Petunia Dursley a visit.
It was one thing to raise a boy as peculiar and unmannered as Potter… it was quite another to slander a sacrifice of Lily's magnitude with stories about illicit drugs and a distaste for motherhood.