Hi :)

This is a typical Harry/Snape fan fiction because they're my two favourite characters and it's so sad that Harry never gets to know how much Snape has helped him until he dies, so this is a sort of "what if Harry knew" story :P

I'd really appreciate any reviews/feedback :) This first chapter is just to get the story started, so the beginning of it is quite obvious :D

Disclaimer: Obviously, I do not own the rights to the Harry Potter series and it's entirely JK's creation ;)

Chapter 1 – The Boy Who Lived.

Laying on the cold, hard floor of a stone cabin lay a small, scrawny boy with scruffy hair, wide glasses and a t-shirt that was at least two sizes too big. In the dusty film that covered the stone slabs beneath him, the boy traced a picture of a birthday cake, with 11 little candles on top. As his cousin's watch beeped for midnight, he whispered glumly "Make a wish Harry." And with that, he drew in a deep breath, closed his eyes and blew at the dust until the candles were no longer visible against the stone floor. For most children, their birthday was a day of joy and excitement. For Harry Potter, the 31st of July was a day of hardship, abuse and discrimination; a day like any other with the Dursleys.

Ever since Harry could remember, he had been a slave to his Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon, who had 'so kindly' given him a home, and in return he had been made to serve his relatives every day. He had never had presents; he had never been comforted or loved; and he had never had a real home. To Harry, life was a series of unhappiness, and he had never felt as though he belonged.

In that moment, Harry closed his eyes and tried desperately to imagine his earliest memory: His mother and father and the love that he felt from them. It made him feel safe, and secure, and he wished more than anything else that one day he could feel that way again. Then his thoughts jumped suddenly and he could see a green light flashing, and hear a woman screaming his name. He jolted, and opened his eyes once more.

Having finished blowing out his pretend candles, Harry felt the room shake as the door swung violently open, breaking at the hinges as it fell to the floor with a crash. Through the frame emerged a large, and very tall figure with matted hair, a knotted beard and a long leather coat. Frightened, Harry took shelter behind a stone column in the corner of the room. From upstairs he could hear his Uncle shouting, and his Aunt squealing in protest at having her door broken down. Dudley, Harry's cousin, woke with a jolt and stood helplessly in the middle of his room, his large belly flopping out of his striped pyjamas.

"Sorry about tha'" Boomed the gigantic man, his thick accent filling the room. He stooped down and picked up the door with one hand, placing it back in its frame as though nothing had happened. The Dursleys stared incredulously at the half-giant as he made himself at home on the sofa, taking out his umbrella and causing the fireplace to burst into flames.

"Ah, you must by Harry," the giant smiled, noticing Harry as he tentatively appeared from his place in the corner. "You 'aven't changed a bit.."

"S-sorry, sir. D-do I know you?" Asked Harry slowly, knowing that he wasn't usually allowed to talk to guests – if this man could be called a guest. Harry flashed a look at his Uncle as though waiting to be reprimanded for talking, but was surprised to see the Dursleys huddling together in a corner looking completely terrified.

"S...sir. I will not have this!" Piped up Vernon suddenly, trying in vain to hide his nerves. He was standing a few feet in front of his wife and child in an attempt to protect them, with a gun in his hand pointed towards the giant. "You are breaking and entering!" He spoke loudly, almost jumping on his stumpy feet as he attempted to make himself heard. However, the effect was lost as the huge visitor slowly walked over and grabbed hold of the end of the rifle, bending it upwards so that it shot a hole in the cabin's roof.

"Dry up Dursley, you great prune," He growled with a hint of a smile, before taking his place on the sofa once again and looking at Harry, "An' yes Harry, of course I know you...but yer right, you probably don' remember me..." he began to explain with a sad tone as he realised that, of course, the boy wouldn't have been old enough to remember. "I'm Rubeus Hagrid. Keeper of Keys and Grounds at Hogwarts," He announced proudly, waiting for Harry to respond. However, when no answer came, he added, "Of course, you know all abou' Hogwarts...?"

"S-sorry, sir, no,"

Hagrid was outraged. "You mean to tell me you don' know abou' Hogwarts? Wha' have you been tellin' the boy all these years?" He exclaimed, addressing the last question to Harry's cowering relatives. Unsurprisingly, they didn't reply, so Hagrid continued talking to Harry, "Did you never wonder where yer parents learned it all?"

"Learnt what, sir?" Harry asked quietly, confused, but also excited that Hagrid knew about his parents.

"You mean you don' know-" Mid sentence, Hagrid got up once more and went over to Uncle Vernon, who had summoned up the courage to take a few further steps towards the giant.

"Now you just listen here. When Lily got herself blown-up we swore we'd put a stop to all this nonsense!" Vernon squeaked, unable to contain his fear and anger regarding the wizard that stood before him.

"Blown up?" Harry questioned quietly, knowing that he wasn't allowed to question his uncle.

"What's tha' Harry?" Hagrid questioned, wanting to know just exactly what the boy did know about the wizarding world.

"It's...well, it's just that I thought my parents died in a car crash..."

"A car crash?" Hagrid couldn't believe what he was hearing. "A car crash killed Lily and James Potter?" Hagrid was laughing to suppress his anger, and as he finished talking the room fell silent once more. Uncle Vernon, powerless to interfere, shuffled back to his wife as Hagrid moved over to Harry. He reached his hand into his large coat pocket, and pulled out a single letter with the words:

Mr H Potter, The Floor, Hut-on-the-Rock, The Sea.

"STOP! I FORBID THIS!" Screamed Vernon with fear in his eyes.

"Ah, go boil yer head, Dursely...yer a wizard Harry," Hagrid said, winking at Harry.

"I'm a what?" Harry asked, not quite believing what was happening.

"A wizard. Go on, open it," And with that, Harry finally opened his letter, eager to find out what his Aunt and Uncle had been hiding from him all this time. Of all the fantastic scenarios he'd thought about, never in a million years had he imagined that he could be a wizard.

"There must be some mistake. I can't be...a wizard. I'm just a freak, I'm not magic,"

"O' course you are! Haven' you ever done somethin' that yer couldn' explain? Somethin' special when you were angry, or upset?" Harry thought about this, and with growing realisation he allowed himself to read the letter, his eyes lit up with curiosity and excitement.

HOGWARTS SCHOOL OF WITCHCRAFT AND WIZARDRY

Headmaster: Albus Dumbledor

(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock,

Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. Of Wizards)

Dear Mr Potter,

We are pleased to inform you that you have a place at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment.

Term begins on 1 September. We await your owl by no later than 31 July.

Harry read the words allowed and waited for everything to sink in. A part of him thought this was all just a big joke, maybe set up by Dudley and his group of friends. The owls, the letters, and now the giant man called Hagrid; how could it be real? And yet Harry was sure that he'd never seen his Aunt and Uncle look so angry and afraid, and he very much doubted their acting ability to be so convincing. It was therefore with caution that Harry allowed himself to accept that maybe, this time, his birthday wish was about to come true.

Meanwhile, the teachers of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry were congregated in the headmaster's office, awaiting his instructions as to how the upcoming year was going to start, and what their roles would be. It was a large and beautiful circular room, full of funny little noises. A number of curious silver instruments stood on spindle-legged tables, whirring and emitting little puffs of smoke. The walls were covered with portraits of old headmasters and headmistresses, all of whom were snoozing gently in their frames. There was also an enormous, claw-footed desk, and, sitting on a shelf behind it, a shabby, tainted wizard's hat – the Sorting Hat.

The headmaster was Professor Dumbledore. He was tall, thin, and very old, judging by the silver of his hair and beard, which were both long enough to tuck into his belt. He was wearing long robes, a purple cloak that swept the ground, and high-heeled, buckled boots. His blue eyes were light, bright, and sparkling behind half-moon spectacles and his nose was very long and crooked, as though it had been broken at least twice. Here he stood behind his desk, not wanting to be rude and sit while his guests were made to stand before him, and began speaking to his colleagues.

"It is my pleasure to welcome you all back!" Dumbledore began in a voice brimming with admiration for his staff members. "I trust you have all had a pleasant break, filled with merriment and plenty of sherbet lemons!" He continued to beam, and some of the teachers beamed back – Madam Pomfrey notably so, for her plump and smiling face filled the room almost as much as Dumbledore's twinkling eyes. Some, however, were less inclined to reciprocate the headmaster's joviality, and instead listened intently with pursed lips.

"Now, as you all know, we are to be expecting 41 new students this year, and as always, Hagrid shall be organising the boats," Dumbledore instructed slowly, "and Minerva, the usual routine?" Professor McGonagall nodded her head once and smiled a thin, but warm smile to show that she was more than happy to oblige.

Dumbledore continued with his fairly ordinary speech, outlining as usual that the Forbidden Forest was out-of-bounds to all students; that the restricted section of the Library was to remain restricted at all times but for exceptional circumstances; and that no students should be out of bed after hours. In fact, when the teachers and care-takers, and house elves all turned on their heels to leave, everybody thought that Dumbledore had finished.

However, they were soon proven wrong as Dumbledore called out amongst the bustle of feet: "Minerva, Severus, a word if I may?"

The two teachers fought against the crowd and hurriedly made their way back to Dumbledore's desk, where they waited to be spoken to.

"Now, as you know we've been having some trouble with regards to Mr Harry Potter's letter," Dumbledore began, addressing Professor McGonagall, who nodded in confirmation, "Well, I am pleased to inform you both that Hagrid has successfully delivered the letter, and is as we speak taking Harry to Diagon Alley to collect the necessary bits and bobs..."

Why is it exactly that you needed us, Professor?" Snape asked tiredly, but with an element of concern in his voice. He could of course guess that Professor McGonagall was needed because she was the Deputy Head, and therefore involved in ensuring that all first years receive their letters. Where he came in all of this, however, was puzzling.

"Ah, well, you see, I thought it only right that I inform McGonagall that Harry has indeed been given his letter. As for you, my dear man, I'd have thought it were obvious." Severus thought to himself curtly that it was not at all obvious, and if the man wouldn't stop beating about the bush then he was likely to walk out. "Severus, surely you can appreciate more than anyone else the dangers that await young Mr Potter here at Hogwarts," At this, the smile on Dumbledore's face dropped to a sincere expression of concern. "The boy will have enough to worry about this year without having to face Voldemort -"

"Albus, please!" Interjected McGonagall, who had hoped the mention of He Who Must Not Be Named might not have occurred quite so early into the school term.

"Minerva, we can ignore it all we like. I'm sure Voldemort will attempt to harm Mr Potter whether we talk about him or not. The matter is, Hogwarts may well be the safest place for the young boy over the next few years. And as such, it is my role to ensure that Mr Potter has someone to look out for him during his time here," In saying those words, Dumbledore's eyes flashed towards Severus, who was afraid he knew where this was going, "Which is why, Severus my dear man, I would like you to be that someone. After all, after poor James Potter you were closest to Lily. I'm sure she would be most happy if she knew you were looking out for her boy..."

Severus Snape, who had been dressed the entire time in a dark black robe which he now used to flare out at the sides to show that he was not happy, thought about protesting.

"Albus, do you not think that it might be more appropriate for Hagrid to-"

"My dear man," Albus said once again, raising a polite hand as though to justify his interjection, "I would trust Hagrid with my life, and I'm sure that he is taking great care of Harry at this very moment. But only you can protect the boy in the way that Lily could protect him...I think you know that, Severus."

Dumbledore's eyes were once again twinkling, in a manner of which made Professor McGonagall wonder if he was up to something. He did seem very excited, as though a wonderful plan was formulating. McGonagall was about to point out that Severus Snape would hardly be as caring as Lily, before thinking better of it. Besides, she knew how kind Severus could be outside of his rather cruel lessons. As for Snape, he could barely contain his disdain for the golden Boy Who Lived, and that idiot James Potter. But somehow Dumbledore had left him powerless to object any further: after all, he was Lily's child as well as Potter's.