A/N: Hmm.. It seems I forgot to disclaim. Oops? Angry cries of a mob can be heard outside. Lawyers surround the building, pitchforks in one hand, court summons in the other.Tapes a black piece of paper with silver embossing to the front page: I'm sorry! I 'm sorry!

I do not own Harry Potter. I do not own the other players on his stage. I would tell you not to sue, but unless you're Ms. J.K, Warner Bros., or some of their affiliates, you don't really have the right. So there. (Not that you'd get much... Unless you want a bunch of video games and a broken laptop?)

Oh, and since I didn't mention it before (it's in my bio though!) I'm writing most of the text from memory. I moved to Canada and had to leave most of my books behind for now so I don't have my HP books. Sooo... my fact checking is done at the HP Lexicon (link in bio). It's not too shabby. Even J.K. says she'll go on there to check things she can't remember if she doesn't have a book on hand.

Chapter Two: Content No More

Severus Snape, Potions Master and head of House Slytherin had been content. He had been staring into the flames of candles dancing on the hearth, firewhiskey in hand, mind on the little free time he had before the new school year and the flood of incompetent children. Never mind that just over a decade ago he had been one of those students, the last few years had been utterly horrible to teach.

Severus was content to be alone. He was content to think and pretend these long moments would never end. Sadly, they always did.

"Brooding again, Severus?" The voice was soft, not judging yet he couldn't ignore it.

"Merely lamenting the end of summer," Severus drawled then took a gulp of his firewhiskey. "What do you want?"

Finally, Severus turned towards the doorway to regard his employer Headmaster Dumbledor. 'Why does that infernal twinkling never cease?' True, the middle aged man it was a small wandless spell that would allow anyone who was caught in it feel more comfortable but it always seemed to just irritate the Potion's Master more.

At the question, Dumbledor sighed, a bit of age playing on his face. His heavy eyebrows lifted and seemed to stare into Severus's very soul. Albus Dumbledor knew his Slytherin teacher rather well. In fact he didn't even need Legillimancy to know precisely what he was thinking. "I'm sorry for intruding on you, but a student needs to be collected. He has not been receiving his letters."

Severus's face soured, "Then he is most likely not going to be one of my snakes. Send one of the others."

Dumbledor rambled over towards the sitting area, sat himself down then poured a small glass of the strong stuff. "Minerva is busy with a crop of muggleborns in London, Fillius is currently out of the country with his kin and Pomona is at a herbology conference in Paris. I would ask Hagrid, but he's in the hospital wing with some bad bites from Fluffy. Really, Severus, there is no one else." He pulled a small piece of paper from his pocket and slid it across the table. "This is the address. Just pick the boy up and take him to the Leaky Cauldron. Minerva will meet him tomorrow and take him to gather his supplies. Just one night, Severus."

Tilting his head back, Severus downed the rest of his alcohol, quiet evening shattered and content no more. "I will go collect this student, Albus."

Dumbledor's face broke out in to a wide grin, "Splendid! Oh, and a little something for your trouble." The old wizard pulled a nice full bottle of Ogden's from one of his many pockets. Standing and making his way out of the dungeon room, Dumbledor paused at the door. "Try not to drink it all tonight."

Severus had snorted at the time. He normally didn't drink too much, but now, standing in the living room of Number Four Privet Dr, Little Whinging, Surrey, Severus Snape wasn't so sure he wouldn't.

Across the room, half hidden behind a rather morbidly large blonde boy was a small, haunted looking frail child. His clothes were coated in what looked like dried blood. And judging from the angle that he was holding his left arm, Severus was pretty sure it was broken. Next Severus took in the bright green eyes, half hidden behind glasses mostly held together by tape; then the messy black hair. Injuries and frailty aside, the boy looked like a carbon copy of one man in particular. Severus swore mentally but held out a letter made out to one Harry J. Potter, cupboard under the stairs.

The boy in question took a few hesitant steps forward before the man whom had been yelling earlier roared to life again, "No! The boy isn't going! He won't be doing any of that freakishness!"

"Come along, Potter," Severus drawled. "The Headmaster sent me to fetch you and we will be going." Severus took a few steps forward, ignoring the boy's guardians, letter still held out.

Potter didn't take the letter quite yet. Instead, he looked to his aunt and uncle, "Going where? He's a professor so that makes it a school, right? Why shouldn't I go? What's this school for?"

That made Severus grind his teeth. This was taking too long. And why didn't the boy seem to know about Hogwarts? "Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Potter. You're parents were students there and you will be starting September first."

The boy's jaw dropped, "M-magic is real?" Then he turned to his family. "You knew?!"

His aunt, a tall skinny woman with a long horse face was blessed with none of Lily Evan's beauty nor poise, "Knew? Of course we knew! Lily got a letter just like that. Beautiful, special Lily! I was the only one who knew what she was: a freak! She'd wave that stick and abnormal things would happen! It wasn't right! But did mother and father believe me? No! They threw the praise at her feet. Lily could do no wrong! Then she went and got herself blown up and we got saddled with you, ungrateful little brat that you are!"

"Blown up?" It was almost funny to Severus to watch Potter splutter. "You told me my parents died in a car crash!"

Overhead, the thunderstorm raged, Lightning flashed and thunder boomed, leaving an almost quiet echo after the yelling. Severus put a hand on Potter's shoulder, staying away from the broken arm. "We've got to be going, Potter. You can read your letter later."

The boy shrunk slightly in on himself when Severus touched him, somewhat like he was resisting flinching. Though Potter didn't resist as Severus pulled him slightly away from his family. He seemed broken and wooden as they walked out the door into the dying storm. With all the commotion, no one had noticed the rain letting up. As they walked partway down the street the heavy rain had changed into an almost warm and light shower.

Severus considered the options as they walked. He had a suspicion the boy was too injured to take a portkey successfully as had been originally planned. It would have to be either side-along or the Knight Bus.

XoXoX

Harry was deep in his own thoughts as the pair walked. All the little things that had never made sense to him were starting to fall into place. It was part of why he was ostracized and an outcast from the Dursley's. He actually wasn't a normal person. They really were right. Harry could feel a burn of tears blending in with the warm rain. No, no crying; not here, not in front of the professor. He wouldn't be weak in front of this man. He was a freak too. Harry wasn't alone anymore.

"Sir?" Harry spoke without realizing he was going to, "You mentioned my parents...? Did you know them?"

The professor grimaced then nodded. "Yes. I was in the same year as them. They were in Gryffindor house while I was in Slytherin. We were naturally rivals."

Chewing on his lip, Harry considered this. So there were two houses at the school? Before he could question more, the man continued, "Hogwarts has four houses: Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff and Slytherin. They are named for the founders and students are sorted based on qualities. The obnoxiously brave go to Gryffindor, the studious to Ravenclaw, loyal and hardworking belong to Hufflepuff and the cunning ambitious to Slytherin. I am the Head to Slytherin house. Brace yourself."

With those last words, the head of Slytherin grabbed Harry's shoulder. If felt like they were being squeezed through a tight tube. Before Harry could close his eyes, the arrived with a soft crack.

"Wha- what was that?" He managed to wheeze out. It had squished on his cracked ribs and felt like it was going to crush his lungs. He rubbed his unbroken arm over his chest to ease it.

"Apparation, specifically side-along apparation. You will learn once you're seventeen."

Sparing a quick look around, Harry noticed they were in a back alley with nothing but the trash bins. This certainly was not were they were before! Harry followed the man quietly into the building through a door. Professor Snape walked up to a mostly toothless bald man cleaning glasses at the bar.

"Welcome to the Leaky Cauldron, Professor. Can I get ya something?"

Harry eyed the man wearily. He didn't like meeting new people.

"Just a room, Tom. The boy will be staying the night."

Tom looked Harry over real quick. Harry was puzzled when his eyes widened. "H-Harry Potter? Right you are. Suite twelve is open. Right this way, sirs!"

Now he was more confused. How had the innkeeper known who Harry was? Regardless, Harry followed the two men upstairs. Everything was so strange, just the other day he was in the backyard talking to a snake, he had managed to unlock his cupboard just a few hours ago and now he was gone from the Dursley's and going to learn how to be a wizard! A small smile bloomed over his lips but disappeared before either of the men noticed.

They had stopped in front of a nice sized suite, the bedroom connected to the bathroom by a small door. Tom shook Harry's hand hard for a few moments before making himself scarce. He couldn't leave the bar for long after all.

Snape sneered at the small bit of confusion on Harry's face. "I would suggest you read Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts to understand why everyone will fawn over you, Potter. Now, what besides your arm is injured?"

Harry turned towards Snape wide eyed. He had stepped into the room and was looking around then going to head over to the bed when he stopped at the question. He wanted to know? "My ribs are cracked, sir. My hands are burned, but that'll be healed by morning." Harry flinched from the sneer on Snape's face.

"Try not to jostle yourself too much tonight. I'll be back in the morning to check on your wounds and will bring some potions to ease the pain." And then he stormed out.

Harry watched the door for a bit and then decided the professor wasn't coming back. Harry went into the bathroom and washed his face before shucking his blood-encrusted shirt and pants. He turned out the light and crawled into bed. The room was so dark... he sighed in happiness and let it filter into his mind, falling asleep to darkness's silence.

A/N: Next, Snape's reaction and Diagon Alley!

Okay, I've had about a hundred hits and not one person has left a review. That's a little saddening. Please, take the time to let me know one thing you like and one thing you don't like so far. Oh, and VOTE! Which house should I put Harry in?