A/N: Third in the SI Dumbledore series. Be safe!

"Do you need to abuse the furniture?" Severus chided in passing, stopping to tap my foot where I hung like a bat over the living room sofa.

"I do," I said and sighed soulfully. Well, I didn't need to, but being six was a lovely age for contorting your body on furniture and whatnot without having to worry about creaking knees and slipped disks. So I was quite comfortable hanging face down over my favourite sofa, my legs over the backrest and my hair mopping the floor. "I'm bored."

"I would never have guessed."

"Can we go out?" I sent my best pleading eyes his way, Bambi couldn't have done it better. "Maybe to the zoo?"

"Not today, Minerva and I have a meeting later with the new staff."

"Then we don't have to go out, we can do something here and you can just do the meeting after…" Struggling upright I wracked my mind for anything that might sound inviting enough for him to stop work and play with me instead. "We can go fishing!"

"Perhaps the weekend, Albus. Go find something to do. You have enough toys to keep you entertained."

"You can take them all," I moaned. "They're boring."

"Is that so."

"Yes." A lie. They were fun enough yesterday and the day before because they were magical, but today was a different day, wasn't it? And for some reason, absolutely everyone I knew was somehow busy. Playing alone was boring. I told him so and went back to hanging over the chair. Batboy!

"Well, I suppose you being bored is better than the alternative." He started for the door. "Enjoy yourself—"

"What do you mean, the alternative?"

He stopped. Was that a sigh?

"It's a new school year, usually you would be hatching some idiotic plan by now, Albus. No diaries to save? No Dark Plans to foil?"

I stopped my contemplation of the dust bunnies under the chair and twisted around to see him better. He sounded worried, but no, he looked his usual imperturbable self. But he was right. Shouldn't there be something to fix? I know I had promised to tell them if there was instead of running off to do it myself, but still. What was supposed to happen this year? Frankly, it all felt like so much of a dream these days that I hadn't even thought of it.

"I don't think so. Sirius was supposed to escape and Lupin would teach Defense…"—and they would have that fight in the shack, better not say, look how dark his face turned just at the mention of the wolf—"But that won't happen now. Fudge was going to send dementors to guard the school—"

"You're making that up."

"Am not!"

"The school governors would never stand for it and I doubt very much Minister Fudge would lose his mind to senility young, for that's the only way he would stoop so low as to put children in danger."

"Don't ask me then if you're not going to believe me." Oh! I sat up. "When's the Quidditch world cup? Can we go see that? Maybe get a tent—"

"It's next year."

Bugger it.

"What happens at the cup?" He looked like asking was the last thing he wanted to do.

"Veelas… and someone puts the dark mark in the sky, but he's not coming back now, is he?"

"He is not. More helpful would be if you remembered who won."

"Sorry. I just know you shouldn't make bets because someone had fake gold, don't ask me who." I sagged back down. "Well, then there's nothing, Dad. It's going to be a boring year."

"I'm sure you'll find some trouble to get into," he said, scoffing, and this time he finished crossing the room to open his office door, offering over his shoulder: "If you can't find something to do you can go clean your bedroom, it's a pit."

"I'm not that bored!" I shouted after him, but he just waved a hand to say he had heard and did not care. For a moment I considered following him to his office to go complain some more, but contrary to what he believed I was not an idiot. He would change his suggestion to an order and I would find myself stuck doing manual labour in place of entertainment.

I did follow him after a while to tell him I was going out. I found him for a change not behind a cauldron, but scribbling away at his desk. The school was going to open next month and for the teachers it was a never-ending slog with the ever-changing magical curriculum, updating lesson plans, and for Severus auditing his stockroom and getting his budgets approved. The latter of which he seemed to be busy with, if his frown was to go by, and he barely glanced over when I said my piece.

"Stay in the castle. It's going to rain soon," he told me absently.

"Aw, that's bo—" I swallowed the word when he looked up with a full Bat glare at the ready. "Yes, Dad."

Freedom to roam, even if castle bound, was a beautiful thing and relatively recent. It so happened that telling fewer lies made him trust me more, who knew? I hit the hall running.

So many of my misadventures in this world had started with me running out of that portrait, you'd think I would have learned my lesson by now.

Argus Filch. Caretaker of Hogwarts and general ruiner of children's moods for over half a century. For two years I have been giving that man a wide berth. If I see him at the end of the hall I would make a nice U-turn, if he rounded one corner I would turn another. That's just how scary he was, an old, crabby, cantankerous, cancerous horror of a man who had no business being around children. Topping that, I would never in my life have believed that I would hate a cat. Twice I had a run-in with both and still had nightmares and a scar on my left knee as a result. You had zero power when you were this small, anyone could just pick you up and do what they wanted with you so you were dependent on people's goodwill. Which Argus Filch was born without.

I had no aim to my running, except perhaps the pleasure of exercise. If I had thought about it I might have tried my luck with the kitchen elves for a pudding or maybe would have had a go at searching out the elusive Room of Requirement again. The damn thing had been hiding from me, and Percy, in a rare black mood—I blamed Penelope—had said it just meant the castle was more sensible than most other things around here, people included.

In the end I never got a chance to form any plan, as I rounded a corner on the second floor only for the run to turn into a hazardous slide when I hit a soapy spot. Mister Filch, demon caretaker, either did not believe in wet floor signs or liked causing kids to fall flat on their face. I might have still survived to run away unharmed but for scraped palms and knees, had it not been for Mrs. Norris's tail waiting for me at the end of the skid.

Nothing got the caretaker faster to his post than Mrs. Norris howling her head off.

"My cat!" Argus Filch bellowed, spittle flying, having appeared out of nowhere. "My cat!" he shouted again and grabbed me from the floor to hoist me into the air. "Where's my cat!? What have you done to Mrs. Norris!?"

Dangling in the horrible man's grip, his putrid breath washing over me, my first instinct was to plead. "She's fine, I promise! She just ran off! It was an accident! Please let me go!"

"It was no accident, you all have it in for poor Mrs. Norris! I've had about enough of you! Sneaking about, looking for trouble—don't think I don't see you running away! There's no one to help you now!" he thundered above my head and started down the hall half carrying, half dragging me.

"Please, Mr. Filch! My dad's looking for me!" I know. Pathetic. I should have bitten him but I gagged when the thought came up. The man smelled like layers of sweat that had not seen soap in a decade.

"Who's searching for you, you little bastard?" He shook me until my teeth rattled, and cackled: "Shout all you want! Help! Go on! Help! Today you will see what happens to awful children who hurt Mrs. Norris! I will hang you from your ankles!"

That's it! Enough! Twisting to aim for his family jewels, I kicked out in self-preservation, and he retaliated with a backhanded smack that made my ears ring and my cheek throb in a white-hot pulse.

"I will tell my Dad!" I yelled and swallowed a sob.

"I'm not scared of Master Snape, I've seen him as a snot-nosed little bastard 'imself and the things I've to tell!"

That had been his threat the other two times also. As threats went it was very effective. There was no way I was going to let this horrible man near my dad. This time when he shook me I hung limp, my heart thundering in my ears. He tightened his grip around the back of my neck and opened his office door—a dank smelling hole with barely any light—and, beyond scared now, I grabbed for the doorway but he ripped me free and threw me in.

Gasping for air, my head nearly exploding, I pitched forward and everything went black.

When the colours returned it was in a mad, nauseating swirl. By now too familiar with wizarding travels I did the only thing I could: I tucked my elbows in, squeezed my eyes shut and clasped my hands over my mouth, praying I wouldn't be spliced into two, or worse, sick up at the end of it. I landed with a jarring impact to my feet and tumbled painfully to my knees.

Mad-Eye Moody was maybe the best thing that had happened to the Defence class since the curse. He kept saying no curse would ever get the better of him and kids whispered that so far he had only lost a toe to the DADA one. I've sneaked into enough lessons, pretending I didn't notice his electric blue orb rolling to watch me creep in, to have learned some basic magical-life skills. The first thing to do on apparition is to open your damned eyes toot-sweet for there may be a dragon at the other end of your little trip, lasses and laddies!

There was a cow at the other end of mine.

You would be excused if you had thought: Weasleys! You're safe, little Albus, and there might even be pie! I certainly did, but more places in the world considered cows to be a good addition to their stock and one of them was the London Zoo. I had petted this exact cow last week and the week before that.

It pressed its huge black nose against mine and gave me a lick. Its big fat tongue felt like wet sandpaper against my cheek and I hurriedly scrambled away as it did not combine well with Filch's wallop. A group of schoolchildren ran screaming past me trying to catch a miniature goat, nearly giving me a heart attack—if Bat Dad was here he would have given them what for!

"Move along," a woman said from behind and a hand fell on my head. "Where's your partner—oh, not one of ours, are you lost?"

She was a school teacher, I could spot them easily by now. She had the weary, pinched look around her eyes that spoke of someone who had a too-long day already, even before first tea. Looking at me now, her strained smile started to turn into a frown and I did not need a crystal ball to see what was bothering her. Even with needing a haircut I still didn't look like a girl and was currently in my favourite blue robe which only managed to pass for a dress from afar.

"No, Miss, my mum's buying ice cream." I gave her my most winning smile and felt my cheek throb. Oh, God, did he leave a mark? "I'm getting ice cream 'cos I fell!" Just because I didn't lie so much didn't mean I lost the ability. And dammit, now I wanted ice cream. "Sorry, Miss, I'm not supposed to talk to strangers!" I called inanely and slipped away before she could get ideas. Women were much more observant of what child belonged where, and the less she saw of me the better. I could feel her eyes on my back as I sprinted off.

The petting zoo was a rectangular enclosure filled with sand and hay, chicken coops and miniature pens. It was not my favourite place in the zoo, I liked looking more than touching, but Dad brought me here every time and I liked to humour him. I slipped past the sheep, skirted the turtles and jumped over a rabbit that appeared out of nowhere.

Behind the little chicken coop I checked my pockets for muggle money. There was none. Ice cream would have to stay a dream. I had my wand, two liquorice strings, and a fist-sized rock. It didn't look like anything special and could even be a piece of cemented gravel for all I knew, and for the life of me I couldn't remember where I picked it up or what I had wanted it for. I put it back just in case. Still, it was much better than finding a frog and not remembering how it got there, which had happened twice now.

I set off to find the nearest curb, raise my wand and hope to convince Stanley to let me pay him back. If I could get home without being missed then this could be just a little adventure that no one needed to know of. I was enough of a clutz that Dad would believe I fell. I'd rather say that than touch on the festering sore that was building between me and the caretaker. No way was I going to let him run his mouth on Dad, you're not supposed to blame people their whole life for things they did as kids. Still, if I did not get home in time for lunch at least then I could consider myself in big trouble.

Even here the sky was overcast and I had not walked ten steps when a light rain started to drizzle down on us. No one seemed to care or bother with umbrellas, children of all ages were running about having the best time, but for me it just underscored my depressed mood.

My face hurt more than my knees and palms did from the skid on the hallway, a low throb that did not want to let go. I took a chance and slipped into the girls' bathrooms which in general was a better smelling affair than that of the boys, and also they tended not to break their mirrors. There I stared at myself in horror. The asshole had given me a bruised cheek, three bright red finger marks still visible—no way could I make that off as anything else but a smack! I splashed water on it and swore under my breath, this was not good. Maybe the swelling would go down if I gave it a little bit more time... I could go see a few animals on the way to the gates, that's what I would do. I scraped my hair forward, turning myself into an emo kid which was better than nothing. A gaggle of girls chose that moment to come in and I slipped out, keeping my head down.

We've been to the zoo a few times over the years and more frequently this last summer, whenever I could manage to twist Dad's arm. There was space to run, snacks to be had, animals to fawn over and all topped off with a picnic lunch in the shade of the trees where Dad fussily cast a bug away charm on the grass before settling down with a book.

Without fail he would doze off within two minutes, leaving me with the freedom to rest my head on his stomach and watch the clouds. As an outing it was lovely. He followed patiently wherever I dragged him and let us stay until I was satisfied the day was done, carrying me without complaint on his shoulders when walking became too much. I also got to see him in muggle clothes and having him walk about in denim and t-shirts and just be a regular person was a treat. I'll be honest to say I was very appreciative of this second chance I had been given, but it took nearly two years to get to the point where we could enjoy each other's company.

The zoo was not the same without him. I stayed around families as much as possible, not wanting attention from the guards, and though I got to have a look at my favourites it was all spoiled by the constant gnawing knowledge that I needed to get home. Even so, my stomach plunged when I caught sight of a tall, dark-haired man walking purposefully towards me, but it was not my dad and I didn't know whether I was glad or not. He passed me by without looking and I sagged against the railings.

I wanted to go home. Now I was glad for the rain as it hid my pathetic tears and I slogged on, barely seeing the animals, finally taking shelter between the snake houses where I had a good cry.

"Albus? Albus Snape, is that you?"

Heart in my mouth, I twisted around but there was no one. Not even Muggles, for I was in a secluded spot between the buildings, trying to build courage for the last leg home. "Who's there!?" I quavered.

"Oh, my apologies!" the voice called, not sounding like anyone I knew, and the next morment a man's head floated in front of me. When I gasped he slipped the invisibility cloak off and bent over me. A pale young man with straw-coloured hair and freckles, he looked to be in his early thirties and seemed tired. He was wearing a dark robe, very similar to the ones dad liked so much. "Here now," he said. "That's better, oh you are little Albus, I'm sure of it, is your dad here?" He looked around as if expecting my dad to pop up like he did.

"Who are you?" I asked.

He laughed. "I am your dad's very best friend, we were supposed to meet up soon. Did you get lost?"

"No!"

"Oh, dear me, of course you wouldn't get lost, you're not a baby anymore, are you. My how you've grown…" his eyes narrowed on my face and he caught my chin in his bony fingers to swipe my hair off my cheek. "Now who would be hitting such a lovely lad? Don't tell me your da—"

"It wasn't him! He would never hit me!"

"Hm. Yes, Severus always was too soft. Do you want to tell me then who did it? You've also not yet said where your dad was."

"It was just some kid."

He turned my face again, clearly not believing a word I said. "And where's Severus?"

"Home." I should bite my bloody tongue right off. Why did I tell him that!?

"Spinner's End?"

"No," I said and sagged in relief. He did know dad then. I could feel my bottom lip wobble. "Hogwarts…"

"And you're here all on your own? That's hardly possible… did you have a little mishap perhaps?" he asked in a kind tone. "Do you need help?"

Sniffling more now at the unexpected sympathy, I broke down and told him all.

"There-there," he patted my back. "What do you say we get you home, will you let me help?"

I nodded and took the hand he held out.

He slipped the invisibility cloak over both of us, and called: "Winky! Take us home!"