Harry Potter 1. Chapter 1

**Similarities by EnchantedUnicorn**

**Chapter 1**

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><p><strong>Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.<strong>

_"Down, boy," Tobias growled, an acrid alcoholic odor tinting his breath._

_Severus obeyed shakily as he lowered himself, protectively curling up into a ball. He heard the clinking of the belt and cringed, knowing all too well about the pain that was soon to come. _

_"Freak," his father hissed, bringing down the belt with a loud whoosh._

_Severus jerked uncontrollably as the belt buckle hit the bone of his right shoulder. Dozens more landed on his arms, legs, and back as he curled up even tighter and began sobbing softly. Finally, Tobias stopped._

_"Boy," Tobias demanded threateningly. When Severus didn't budge, he kicked the chin of the boy up. "Listen to me when I'm speaking, boy!"_

_Severus nodded in fear, and flinched when his father slapped him on his face. "Maybe I should just put an end to you." He strode to the kitchen and grasped a knife, promising death._

_A frantic woman burst into the room. "No! Tobias, please stop!" Eileen cried helplessly as a knife was raised towards her seven-year-old son. "He is but a boy!"_

_The man turned to her. "You want it? Then here!" He menacingly slashed the knife as his wife, creating a deep cut in her throat. Dark blood instantly leaked out, while Eileen slowly slumped to the ground, her eyes rolling to the back of her head._

_"No!" Severus cried. _

Severus's eyes snapped open in the darkness as he breathed heavily. Straining his ears, he heard the sound of heavy footsteps heading towards his room. Oh no. His father was coming. Severus scrambled off his mattress and scampered to the furthest corner, bringing his legs to his body to protect his inner organs and ribs, and buried his head between his bony knees. He stiffened when the door slammed open.

"What is the meaning of this, freak?" Tobias shouted. "You waked me up from a perfectly good night's sleep!" He spotted Severus and walked over, kicking him on the head, before pulling him up with his long, silky hair.

"I'm s-s-sorry, s-sir," Severus stammered fearfully, wincing at how pathetic he sounded. "P-please, I'll…. I'll never do it again. I-I'm sorry!"

The belt buckle slammed onto his cheekbone, creating a large scratch. Lashes rained upon his arms. Feet and fists pounded on his stomach as he finally collapsed. He was slowly losing consciousness… it felt so good… so welcoming…

When he woke up, the sun just peaked out of the lush, green hills. Severus sorely stood up, heading to the bathroom to wash up. It was his routine. After a thrashing, he always took a shower, making sure to wash off all evidence of his punishment. His father did not object, for he wanted to keep the beatings as secretive as possible.

Severus gingerly rubbed his face, noticing in the shower mirror how a deep scratch formed along a dark bruise. He would never be able to hide that. But for the time being, he gently washed off the rest his body in the cool water, noticing the liquid on the floor held some yellow and red in it.

Severus gently dabbed himself with his towel, which had many light red stains, before folding it neatly again and placing it in an unused cabinet. He dressed into his baggy, old clothes, which hid most of his bruises sufficiently.

Grabbing his backpack and a piece of bread on his way to the front door, he silently exited the house. It was hot, almost unbearable in his long clothing, but he refused to change. Keeping his head down, he quickly walked to school, avoiding eye contact with anyone else who might have been outside at five in the morning.

He arrived at school thirty minutes later. Thankfully, no one was there. Severus headed towards the playground and squeezed himself in a small corner. Taking out a book to read, the words gradually became fuzzier as he found his eyelids slowly closing against their will.

Someone was shaking him. His father… Severus eye's immediately opened, and he jumped up and winced. "I'm sorry sir, what do want? I'll get you your bottles, sir, I'm sor..." Severus trailed off as he realized he was not babbling incoherently to his father, but to his teacher, Ms. Mina.

"Oh… err… Ms. Mina? I'm sorry," Severus cringed at his own stupidity, while ducking his head. He would be in big trouble if Ms. Mina suspected anything. "Am I late?"

"As a matter of fact, you are," Ms. Mina said sternly. "You missed first block."

Severus eyes widened. "P-Please don't tell my father, ma'am! Please!" he pleaded. His father would find any excuse to punish him.

"I am tempted to," Ms. Mina started, wondering what could have caused so much fear in a child. Severus tensed. "But I won't. Be sure not to repeat this mistake."

"I won't, ma'am, thank you, thank you very much," Severus repeated gratefully. "Thank you, ma'am."

Ms. Mina's gaze softened. "Your welcome, Severus. You have Science, now don't you?" she questioned.

Severus nodded energetically. They were learning about plants in Science, which he loved. "Yes ma'am." He stiffly gathered his things and waited for Ms. Mina to go. When he realized that she was not budging until he did, he reluctantly stood up, keeping his eyes fixed on the pavement.

Ms. Mina noticed something was off, and cleared her throat. "Severus. Look at me," she said. When the boy did not reply, she softly tilted Severus chin up.

Severus cowered back and raised his hands instinctively. Ms. Mina frowned as she saw a dark bruise on the boy's cheek, along with a scratch. She was also puzzled by the boy's reaction. "Where did you get that bruise?"

Severus's heart raced. "M-My fa… fall."

Ms. Mina stared at the nervous boy before her. "Go now," she said kindly, patting the boy on his back.

Severus tensed and hissed in pain, before hurrying off to Mr. Howl, a teacher that he slightly cautious with because he reminded Severus intensely of his father.

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><p>Ms. Mina was both confused and worried as she paced around her empty classroom. What was Severus doing, sleeping near the playground? He must have come to school very early to fall asleep again. And his reactions. She hadn't missed that she had assumed her to be her father or uncle, and his flinching and afraid-like behavior too. Severus's fear of his father was also obvious.<p>

But what really frightened her was his bruises. The one on his face showed her that he was hit. She had caught his slip. Severus was about to say _father, _but corrected himself at the last second. And there were presumably bruises on his back, too.

One more piece of evidence, and she will take action.

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><p>During recess, Severus sat alone on a wooden bench, grimacing each time he shifted his body. He was not too far from Ms. Mina, who was on yard duty, but not too close either. Watching wistfully as the boys around him played rugby, he didn't notice that the obese bully snuck up to him when his back was turned.<p>

Severus felt a hand on his shoulder and tensed, turning around with cold eyes.

"Aw… little baby scared?" Joe Lee sneered distastefully.

Severus stiffened. "No. Now go before we both get in trouble."

"And why should I?" Joe Lee sneered. "After all, that girl that is even stronger than you is not here to save you." With a shove, he roughly pushed Severus off the bench.

Severus landed on the hard ground and rolled to his side, biting back a yelp as his wounds reopened and his bruises started throbbing. Curling up, he waited for the kick that was about to come.

Severus didn't have to wait long, for the heel of the stronger boy's boot scraped his back, before starting to kick any place possible. His back and stomach hurt like hell, and he could taste blood in his mouth. Unaware of what was happening around him, all he felt was pain. Severus snapped back to reality when a hand started tapping his shoulder.

"Severus," Ms. Mina urged to the battered boy. "Are you alright?"

Severus almost smiled at the caring tone. Of course he wasn't alright! "I-I'll live, ma'am," he said hoarsely. It was not a straightforward lie. He had worse from his father.

"Let's get you to the nurse," Ms. Mina said worriedly. He did not look fine to her.

Severus's eyes widened. If the school nurse found out, he would get the beating his father always threatened him with. "N-N-No, it's f-fine," Severus stammered anxiously.

"Nonsense," Ms. Mina dismissed. "You will go to the nurse." She held out her hand for Severus to take.

Severus tensed, assuming that his teacher was going to hit him. "I-I'm sorry," he said instinctively, while unwillingly standing up.

_For what? _Ms. Mina thought as she led Severus down the hallway and to the nurse. "Nurse Tag!" she called loudly.

Severus shrank away from his teacher. "M-ma'a-am? I-It's r-really f-fine," Severus assured her.

But he was too late, as Nurse Tag came hustling out, dressed in her white gown. "Ms. Mina? What may I do for you and that young man?" she inquired.

Ms. Mina sighed. "Please check over Severus. Joe Lee…." She trailed off, knowing that the nurse got the idea.

"That brat!" Nurse Tag swore. "He should be kicked out from this school!"

Severus eyed the school nurse warily. Why were they sticking up for him? He was nothing but a freak, especially in his father's eyes.

"Yes, I admit I have to agree with you," Ms. Mina said sadly. She had brought multiple children to the school nurse just because of that one boy. "But, I apologize, I must go now." She smiled warmly at Severus before walking away.

Severus gulped, and looked up at the tall school nurse, before hastily lowering his head. It would do no good if she saw his bruise.

Nurse Tag cleared her throat. "Ahem. I trust we have to check on you?" she questioned the timid child.

Severus nodded hesitantly. "Yes ma'am," he stated softly.

Nurse Tag frowned. "Please get on," she gestured to the bed.

Severus shuffled over to it and pushed himself on, keeping his head lowered the whole time.

The nurse got out her clipboard and pencil. "Now, I need to examine you face," she explained.

Severus breath was taken away. She was surely going to find out now. Reluctantly, he met the nurse's concerned gaze.

Nurse Tag gasped as she noticed the dark mark on her patient's cheek. "Severus, where did you get that bruise?"

Severus bit his lip, debating of whether to tell her the truth or not. Finally, he said, "From the fight."

"Today?"

"Yes ma'am," Severus lied. He hated doing so… but it was the only path he could take.

The nurse sighed, and rubbed her temples. "Severus… bruises don't form in a matter of minutes."

Realization hit Severus as he paled. He should have thought of that, having experienced it way too many times before. "I-I-It… was is the morning, ma'am," Severus muttered guiltily.

Nurse Tag's frown deepened. There was only one way to find out if that was true or not. "Severus, please give me your wrist."

Severus immediately drew back. "No, please, don't!" he cried, knowing that she was going to see his bruises if he did.

"Now, Severus," Nurse Tag said sternly. She was beginning to get suspicious that something was wrong…

Severus took a few deep breaths, squeezed his eyes shut, and held out his left hand, which was trembling uncontrollably. _God… please…_

The women gently rolled up Severus's sleeves, revealing a few old bruises and layers of new ones. Her eyes narrowed, and she quickly jotted down notes about his arm and face, before taking out an instrument and estimating his skin sensitivity with it. It was a little high, meaning that it usually took about twelve hours for a bruise to show. And judging by the new bruises, it meant that he had somehow been hit sometime during the night.

"Severus..." Nurse Tag said. "I need to check your back."

Severus shrank back. There was no way he was letting a nurse see his scarred back. It would be too humiliating. And then she would surely know.

"Please, Severus," Nurse Tag pleaded. The child was definitely hurt in his home. "Or do I need to call you father?"

That did the trick. Severus, who had no intention of getting his father involved in this mess and receive a thrashing, hiked up his shirttail, wincing as the fabric painfully dragged over his skin.

Nurse Tag stared at the abused skin before her. "Did Joe Lee do this to you?" she hissed.

Severus shrugged, but then regretting it as his shoulders protested painfully. If she was talking about the wounds reopening… "Yes ma'am," he said.

"The bruises, I mean," she corrected herself hastily.

"I apologize, ma'am." Severus cowered back at his mistake. He couldn't admit it was his father… but he couldn't imply that it was Joe Lee either.

"Who created the fresh bruises?" Nurse Tag urged, glancing down at her paper. So far, it showed only warning signs of abuse.

"I-I-I can't say, ma'am," Severus whispered, stiffening. Would she slap him for such disobedience?

Gears were spinning rapidly in Nurse Tag's head. _Flinching. Bruises. Nervousness. Abuse. _"Let me put some salve on your back, then you may go," she said, hurrying off, and returning with a jar with white contents.

Severus laid down on the bed, his eyes closed and clutching the sheets tightly. Slender fingers began soothingly rubbing his back. Before he knew it, it was over.

"Thank you, ma'am," Severus said quietly as he jumped off the bed.

"You're welcome, dear," Nurse Tag acknowledged. "Do you hurt anywhere else?"

Severus bit his lip. His legs did hurt, but he didn't want her seeing those also. "No ma'am."

Nurse Tag raised an eyebrow at him disbelievingly. "Are you sure?"

Severus fidgeted uncomfortably. "Yes ma'am, I am sure," he assured her. "Good day, ma'am." After looking at the clock, he quickly strode to the lunch room.

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><p>"Here are my reports for Severus," Nurse Tag said grimly. Usually, she wouldn't share her observations with anyone, but she knew that Ms. Mina cared strongly for the boy.<p>

Ms. Mina accepted the paper and scanned over it, her face darkening every second. "I had my suspicions," she growled. "And this is more than enough proof."

Nurse Tag nodded in agreement. "Bastard," she hissed furiously, her calmness that she had faked gone.

"Severus does not deserve that," Ms. Mina glared to no one in particular. "But I have some research to do, so please excuse me."

"Yes, yes, have a nice day," Nurse Tag said, inclining her head politely.

"You too," Ms. Mina said, already taking out a stack of papers that had the location of each of her student's house.

Dialing the numbers on the telephone, it wasn't long before she was talking rapidly.

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><p>"Apparently, an eight-year-old boy who lives at Number 9 Spinner's End is abused. Beaten," the police officer informed two agents. "I need you two to go there and investigate."<p>

The two agents, Agent Charles and Agent Rory, exchanged worried glances. They both did not enjoy dealing with abuse cases, for it took a while to obtain information from the child. And they did not find happiness in seeing an innocent child so broken.

"Well?" the police officer snapped impatiently, tapping his foot on the ground.

Agent Charles and Agent Rory quickly turned back to the officer. "Yes sir," they chorused.

"Good. Now go! A car is there for you." He handed them the keys, before returning to his office.

Agent Charles instantly became more serious. "Let's go."

They strode to the car and with Agent Rory driving, they both wondered what their next case was going to be like.

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><p>Severus heard a knock on the door and was alert in a nanosecond. Surely his father couldn't have come home this early, at seven? No, it definitely wasn't his father. His father would never knock.<p>

He peered through the peephole. There were two men who looked very professional at the door. Behind them, there was a police car.

Severus's eyes widened. A police car. A police car! Two police officers or whatever were knocking on his door? What did he do wrong? Nothing illegal that he remembered. Perhaps they had found out that he was actually a magical _freak_? There was only one way to find out.

Cautiously, he turned the door knob, at the last millisecond remembering to keep his head down. "S-Sir? M-May I ask what do you want, sir?" Severus asked, his eyes darting wildly on the ground.

"I am Agent Rory, he is Agent Charles. I assume you are Severus?" Agent Rory asked. After the boy's nod, he answered, "We need to talk with your father."

Severus tensed and his fists clenched. Did he do something wrong? Or did his father do something wrong? Probably him. His father, a normal person as he called himself, would never do something bad and get caught. "I-I-I apologize… m-my f-f-f-father isn't home." Severus bit his lip, waiting for the slap to come after he denied the demand.

It never came. Instead, Agent Rory replied, "We'll wait for him then."

Severus gulped. He did not want these insisting agents to stay and find out what they wanted to. "M-My f-father comes home very late, sir," Severus whispered. "I believe you should go." He shut his eyes then, knowing that he was certainly going to get hit for telling an elder to do something.

"We'll stay," Agent Charles's voice cut through. "In the car, until your father comes home."

Severus took a deep breath. His father would be extremely mad when he comes back. "Very well, sir, if you have to. But please come in." The truth was, he didn't want them to enter his house. But if he didn't offer so, it would be counted as disrespect to adults, something his father never tolerated.

Agent Rory looked surprised at the offer. "Are you sure? We wouldn't want to disturb you," he said hesitantly.

Severus's mind was screaming _No! No! No! _but his words were out before he could. "I-It's fine with m-me, sir," he assured them absentmindedly.

Agent Rory shrugged, though Severus couldn't see him. "Thank you very much, then," he said.

"Yes, thank you," Agent Charles agreed.

Severus inclined his head in acknowledgement and stepped away from the door, allowing them to enter.

The two agents quickly stepped in, noting how the house strongly reeked of alcohol. "Does your father drink?" Agent Charles asked, frowning.

Severus decided it was best not to lie. After all, drinking itself wasn't that bad, only the drunken rages were. "Yes sir… Please sit. I-I'm afraid we only have a couch… I apologize," Severus said softly, backing away from the two men, while keeping his gaze fixed on the ground. "C-Can I get you something, sir?" He risked a glance at Agent Rory and Charles.

"We're fine," Agent Rory said. "Thank you though."

Agent Charles noticed something awfully suspicious on Severus's face. "Boy," Agent Charles said. "Look at me."

Severus winced, the term reminding him intensely of his father. "P-P-Please… d-don't, sir," he whispered fearfully.

"Severus. Look. At. Me," Agent Charles commanded. He could already see the signs of abuse reported.

Severus had no choice but to obey the directive tone. Wringing his trembling hands, he raised his head. He observed the two agents. Their faces were calm and serious, yet behind Agent Rory's mask, there was some sort of warmness.

At the agents' shocked looks, he stammered, "S-Sir. I-I-I… I can explain."

"Do so," Agent Charles said dryly.

Severus gulped nervously. "I… I got into a fight," he explained quietly. It wasn't necessarily a lie, after all, the bruise was caused by a fight. With his father.

"With your father?" Agent Charles guessed.

Severus paled. How had he known? If his father found out…

The expression on Severus's face was enough for Agent Charles and Rory to decipher the message. Indistinctly, they shared the same, knowing glance, in silence.

Finally, Agent Rory spoke up. "B- Severus… are you happy here?"

Severus turned to Agent Rory with emotionless eyes. "Happy?" he questioned.

Those eyes chilled both professional agents to the bone. "Yes, happy," Agent Rory said, confused.

"I-I d-don't kn-know, sir," Severus stuttered. How did happy feel like?

"What don't you get?" Agent Charles asked kindly.

"Wh-What does happiness feel like?" Immediately, Severus cowered back to the wall. He had just asked a straight question. He braced himself for the blow that was sure to come.

Instead, Agent Charles raised his hands to show that he was not going to harm the boy. Severus flinched. So now the agent was going to hit him. Probably finally realizing that he was bad.

"Severus. It's alright. I just raised my hands to show that I was not going to hurt you," Agent Charles assured the frightened boy.

Severus's brow furrowed. Not going to hurt him? Didn't raising your hands mean you are going to hit someone? "I-I'm sorry, sir."

"It's fine," Agent Rory interjected through the conversation. "You can go back to your room if you would like now."

"Thank you sir," Severus muttered, rapidly excusing himself to his room.

In the living room, the two adults talked to each other gravely in low voices between long, silent intervals.

"Should we report it now?" Agent Rory questioned.

Agent Charles shook his head. "Let's gather more evidence," he said knowingly, his mouth set into a firm line.

Minutes turned into hours as the seconds ticked by silently. Agent Rory and Charles were busy writing down all their suspicions and evidence of abuse before the door creaked open. Instantly, they both sprang up onto their feet, pocketing their notepads.

Tobias, who was not expecting anyone to be in the living room, slumped in and cried, "Boy!" His gaze suddenly fell on the two agents, and he hissed, "Wh' are you?"

Agent Charles raised an eyebrow. "We are here to ask you some questions about you and your son," he said.

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><p><strong>AN: So? How do you like it? We will get to Harry later on.**

**This **_**is **_**my own universe.**

**Please review!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Similarities by EnchantedUnicorn**

**Chapter 2**

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><p><strong>Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.<strong>

**A/N: This ****_is _****my own universe. Thank you for all the reviews that have told me how to improve my story! Also, I have a poll going, if any of you want to check it out.**

"Tha' useless _freak?_" Tobias sneered distastefully. "He 'as done somethin' wrong 'gain, hasn' he?"

Agent Charles clenched his fists furiously. Apparently, this man did not love his son as he should. "As a matter of fact, he hasn't," he spat. "Why do you think he has?"

Tobias, whose mind was foggy and unclear from alcoholic overdose, replied, "He's always in trouble. Got tha' from his dead mothe'."

Agent Charles's eyes narrowed as his lips thinned. "How did she die?" he demanded. If that bastard killed her, then he deserved to be sentenced to jail until his last breath.

Tobias's eyes flickered hesitantly with surprise for a moment, before he uncaringly shrugged. "Suicide," he lied swiftly.

_For what reason? _Agent Charles thought. _No longer wanting to cope with her abusive husband? _He glanced over at his partner, who too looked confused. Finally, Agent Rory spoke up. "How is your son doing at school?"

"That stupid brat?" he scoffed. "He's an idiot, apart from Scien', which is a usele' subject."

"I see," Agent Rory hissed, his fists clenched with suppressed rage. Science as a useless subject? If he studied science, specifically psychology, he would have realized how brutally he was treating his child, physically and mentally. And calling his own son 'stupid'? That was just unheard of. "How do you treat Severus now?"

"Give hi' a good thrashin' when he needs it," Tobias responded unthinkingly, too dizzy to care. "Now ge' out of my house now!"

That muscular man beat his thin and helpless son. Not a good match. "No," Agent Charles denied firmly. "_Now_, please call Severus out here." He wanted to see how the father treated Severus.

"I wanna warrant," Tobias growled coldly. "Else I'll have you two arrested for this!"

Agent Charles shoved a piece of crumpled paper into the man's hand. "There. You have it. Now call out Severus or else I will charge you for child abuse."

The words barely registered in Tobias's head as he repeated, "Child abuse? Child abuse?! I ain't abusing my son! Boy!" he called disbelievingly.

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><p>Severus sharply jolted upright on his bed when he heard his name being called. His father was home! He was going to receive a beating! But wait… where were the two agents- Agent Rory and Charles as they called themselves? Probably talking to his father about whatever they wanted to talk about. Maybe he would be spared this night? Silently trudging out to the living room, he was greeted by the same, old drunken face of his father. "Yes sir?" he inquired nervously, noting the presence of the two other adults.<p>

"Are you abused, boy?" his father spat menacingly.

Severus flinched at the unexpected question and stared at the ground, pondering over it. Was he abused? His father always beat, thrashed, and sometimes starved him, but still…. Severus frowned. That wasn't called abuse. That was called discipline. Raising his head, he shakily answered, "N-No sir."

"Well, you see?" Tobias gestured, turning back to the agents. "He's not!"

Agent Rory raised an eyebrow with disbelief. "Really." The boy clearly showed signs of abuse before. And furthermore, all abusive parents claim that they do not abuse their child, why should this one be any different? Most children defend their parents.

"There is only one way to find out," Agent Charles stated out of years of experience. "Severus, lift your shirt."

Severus gulped. Why did he have to lift his shirt again? They were probably going to have a laugh or mock his scars. It would be too humiliating. Severus silently pleaded to the adults with wide, obsidian eyes.

Tobias did not get the message, however he spoke for himself. "He ain't like showing himself off."

Instead of speaking on Severus's behalf, he was trying to save his own skin. Agent Charles knew that, and said, "I have a warrant, which gives me permission to search." He turned to Severus and requested politely, "Would you please?"

Severus reluctantly turned around and hiked up his shirttail, wincing as the rough fabric scraped over his skin. He felt the agents scrutinize his back, before slim hands gently lowered his shirt and covered his back again.

Agent Charles gritted his teeth to control himself as he finally received the full blow of how cruelly the boy was abused. Those welts were fresh, there were dozens of blue bruises, and it looked unbearably painful. But… as least so far he hadn't seen any signs of the worst type of abuse: sexual abuse.

"Severus will be coming with us," Agent Charles informed Tobias coldly.

At the drunk man's befuddled look, the other agent said, "We need to interrogate him on a few issues."

A small, sickly smile showed on Tobias's face. "Fine," he spat. "An' keep him if you wanna."

Agent Rory's eyes hardened into stones at the last statement. "Oh, we will," he whispered threateningly. Severus's eyes widened. Were they kidnapping him? Police do not kidnap… well only the bad ones do.

"And we'll bring up charges too," Agent Rory added as an afterthought. Severus breathed a sigh of relief. Their main target wasn't him, but his father, apparently. But still… if he was taken away from his father, he would be sent to an orphanage, which he definitely did not want.

Tobias sneered at Agent Rory. "Try to," he said. "I'm 'nnocent."

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><p>Severus dozed off in the darkness by the rhythmic up and down motion of the police car. While his thoughts wandered in oblivion for minutes and minutes with no end, he was finally awakened by the abrupt halt of the car. Groggily, he sat up and forced his eyes open. They were greeted by the faint symbol of the police department. Inwardly, out of tension, he swore. What were they going to do to him?<p>

He snapped out of his thoughts as Agent Rory opened the door of the car and gestured him to come out. "Are you worried about what we are going to do to you?" he asked softly.

Severus timidly nodded his head. _How did he know?_

"Well, let me brief you up a bit," Agent Rory said.

Severus's eyebrows shot up. _Wow. He sounded… casual. Like a young man. Wait… he is young. Looks like he is only in his twenties. Unlike the other. _"Yes sir," he nodded. Some of his anxiousness slipped away.

"We will interrogate… you do know what that means, do you not?" Agent Rory asked, looking at Severus expectantly. Severus nodded, and he continued. "If things go well," Agent Rory stated that in a tone that implied the opposite, "We will send you back home. If not, then we will keep you for the night, and deal with you in the morning."

Severus's frame went rigid. Keep him for the night? Deal with him? Were they going to punish him for one of his father's crazy infractions? Trembling, he hunched his shoulders and followed the agents into the building.

He was led into a surprisingly clean room with two sofas, newer than any he had ever seen before in his whole life. "Sit," Agent Rory commanded gently.

Warily, Severus obeyed, eying Agent Charles fearfully. For some reason, he felt as if Agent Rory was more affable than Agent Charles.

"Do you love your father, Severus?" Agent Rory inquired, taking out his notepad.

Severus stared at the tiled floor. Did he love his father? His father who was always either shouting out orders at him or beating him up? Was that called love? His father certainly did not love him. But did _he _love his father? Would he die for his father? No. Unable to admit that, Severus said quietly, "I-I-I do not know, sir." He then flinched. Impertinence was never tolerated in his household.

"Severus," Agent Rory growled, tilting the boy's head up. "A yes or no answer, please. We are here to help you."

Severus gulped. The agents probably already knew that he didn't love his father, so it would make no difference if he said it for himself. "No sir."

"Good," Agent Rory said.

Severus ducked his head and did not reply. Why was not loving his father good? Sons were supposed to love fathers, and vice versa. But his family was different. For one reason only: his father.

"Severus," Agent Rory said, with a hint of edge in it, making the boy's head snap up at once. "If your father is… angry, what does he do?"

Severus bit his lip. The agent knew again, yet he was asking him. Was this another form of torture for him? "H-H-He... t-t-takes off his b-belt…." Severus trailed off, wondering if Agent Rory got the idea.

Agent Rory's breath caught up in his throat. "And? Does he touch you in weird places? Places you do not want to be touched?" he urged, hoping for the best. If the boy was sexually abused….

Severus shook his head slowly. His father would never want to touch a _freak_ like him. "H-He just hits me with it," he stated softly. Then, as if upon instinct, he cringed, looking out for his father who might pop out in the middle of nowhere and punish him for telling the truth.

"It's alright, Severus," Agent Rory assured the frightened boy, inwardly breathing a small sigh of relief. "You can say anything while we are here." He then looked at his colleague. "Anything else needed to be added?"

Agent Charles, upon the sudden attention, looked surprised. He cleared his throat. "Ahem. Yes. Severus, do you know how your mother died?"

Severus nodded. He remembered it all too well. The kitchen knife, slashing her throat, creating the severe cut… he would never forget that moment. Why his mother did not use magic to protect herself, he did not know.

"It was not by suicide, was it?" Agent Charles questioned thoughtfully.

Severus paled. How did he know? "N-N-N-No, sir," he admitted, barely audibly.

Agent Charles frowned. He had not expected his assumption to be correct. "How did she die, then?" he asked gruffly.

Severus flinched, the voice very much reminding him of Tobias. "Sh-She was… murdered," he answered tersely.

The two agents gasped. "By whom?" Agent Charles enquired. If Severus was not lying, it was probably Tobias.

Severus knew he couldn't say the truth. He did not know why, but he felt as if… he should save his heartless father and prove his (not genuine) innocence on this issue. Probably because it was his father who provided him food and shelter all these years. "I-I-I… d-do n-not know, s-sir," he stammered. "I-I a-apologize."

Agent Charles grit his teeth. Why was this so difficult? They were running off topic, and Severus did not seem to be willing to share any information. Taking a deep breath, he said sternly, "Severus. Do you lie to adults?"

_I do, _Severus thought. _To survive. _"Y-Yes sir," he replied truthfully, cowering back. He knew that adults, especially authorities, did not appreciate being lied to.

Agent Charles groaned. That was not the answer he had been expecting. "Then don't. Tell us the truth. We are here to _help_ you, as Agent Rory put it."

Severus remained stubborn. He couldn't reveal the truth, he just couldn't! "A-As I s-said bef-fore, I-I do n-not know," he stuttered. "Sir," he added weakly, raising his hands to protect his face from the impending blows that were sure to come.

Agent Charles stared disbelievingly at the broken child before him. "Severus," he sighed. "I'm not going to hit you."

Embarrassed, Severus slowly lowered his arms, alert. Adults did not always mean their word. Take his father, for example.

Agent Rory frowned as he listened to the interaction between the two. Finally, he decided to try a different approach. "Severus," he said, catching the boy's attention. "We know it was your father."

Agent Charles shot his partner a what-on-earth glance. _What? _he screamed in his mind. _We do not! _Then, it hit him like a block, that Agent Rory was testing the boy. He smiled to himself, marveling at the other man. Agent Rory, though he was new to the job, was more cunning than he originally thought.

Severus eyes widened at Agent Rory's statement. _How did he know? Sir will kill me if he gets arrested. But how does he know? _Severus's face turned as white as sheet as he stammered, "S-S-Sir… p-p-please…."

"So it was your father?" Agent Charles said, with a deep frown.

Severus nodded absentmindedly, too anxious to care. "Y-Y-Yes s-sir… b-but p-p-please, s-sir… d-don't…," he pleaded shamelessly.

Agent Charles sighed. "Severus, abuse may only raise charges, but murder is a much more serious issue. He can't get away with it," he informed the boy apologetically.

Severus lowered his head. "Yes sir," he whispered dejectedly.

Agent Rory, feeling sorry for the boy, added, "Of course, we need to testify a few things."

Severus shrugged. It didn't make any difference; his father was guilty, and with that ignorant brain of his, his father was sure to prove that himself.

The two agents led him down a corridor, with a sign with the word CHILD ABUSE printed on it, and into a cozy room where he would sleep for the night. Severus noticed there was food on the table, but ignored it, knowing it was not for a freak like him. He muttered his thanks, and in the darkness, snuggled into the warm covers. The lemon-scent was fresh, and the blankets were amazingly clean. It was something heavenly he had never experienced in a long time, though he should have. Gradually, his eyelids forced their way closed, and Severus dozed off in peace, dreamlessly.

He woke up in the morning with thin beams of sunlight streaming through the windows. For a moment, he forgot where he was. Certainly not his house, his house which always was dark and gloomy. But memories quickly flooded back to him. With sudden realization, he jumped off the bed, and silently left the room, looking for anyone who could help him.

He encountered a young lady recording something down in a notebook. She did not seem to notice Severus's presence until he called timidly, "M-Ma'am?"

Her head snapped up. "Yes? How may I help you, dear?" she inquired kindly.

Severus bit his lip nervously. He wasn't quite sure what he wanted, he just needed help. "Wh-Wha… M-May I g-go h-home n-now, m-ma'am?" he asked quietly.

The lady peered at Severus through her eyeglasses, noting the bruise on the boy's bony cheek. She guessed that he was from the 'Child Abuse' department. "Let me just contact your agents. Which ones were they?"

Severus thought she was talking about the two agents he met the day before, so he answered shakily, "A-Agent R-Rory a-a-and A-Agent Ch-Charles, m-ma'am."

"Very well dear, let me just phone them," the lady said, already reaching for the phone.

"M-M-Ma'am? Th-There is n-no n-need to d-d-disturb th-them," he hastily assured her, shying away at the same time. Couldn't he just control his horrid mouth? He should never direct an elder to do something, else he would be punished.

The lady's hand halted in midair. "It's alright, sweetie," she said. "For now, you are their responsibility."

Severus's brow furrowed. Why was he their responsibility? No one should care for a freak like him. They had better children to look after.

The lady picked up the phone and quickly dialed a few numbers, before rapidly speaking. "Child department front desk here… Agent Rory and Agent Charles… yes, yes… great, thank you.…" She put the phone back on the receiver and turned back to Severus. "They will be here shortly," she informed him.

Severus nodded. "Thank you ma'am," he whispered gratefully. He backed up into a corner and waited patiently for the agents to appear.

They arrived shortly. "Severus," greeted the two of them.

Severus tensed instinctively as his name was spoken. His father never said his name, only the teachers and his classmates. Teachers all scared him, and most of his classmates were cruel or unfair to him. Lily, thankfully, called him by Sev most of the time, not Severus. And Petunia too.

"Sirs," he returned, inclining his head politely. The word felt strange as it rolled off his tongue.

"Do you have to go to school?" Agent Rory questioned, his heart the same– warm.

Severus's eyes widened as he remembered. "Y-Yes s-sir," he stammered, his heart beating faster. "S-Sir? C-Can I go n-now? I-I c-can't b-be l-late for sc-school, s-sir." Ms. Mina had warned him to not be tardy again. Only God knew what she would do to him if he was.

"Relax, Severus," Agent Rory said soothingly. "It is only seven in the morning."

Severus blushed as he hid behind his dark hair and shuffled his feet on the ground. _It is? _Looking up into the eyes of the agent, he quickly ducked his head and said, "I-I'm s-s-sorry, s-sir."

"It's fine, Severus," Agent Rory reassured the boy. "Stop apologizing." He gently placed a hand on the terrified boy's shoulder.

Severus cringed away from the touch. Squeezing his eyes shut, he repeated, "Y-Yes s-sir. Sorry– Sor–"

"It's alright," Agent Charles's voice interrupted him sharply. Severus flinched. "Now, I believe we need to send you to school as we… solve a few issues?" he continued, trying his best to not comment on the flinch.

Severus looked up fearfully at the intimidating man before him. "I-I w-would… a-a-appreciate it, s-sir," he replied stiffly.

"Very well, let's go now. After you eat and get examined by the doctor, we will go retrieve your school items. You may shower if you would like to," Agent Charles declared.

Agent Rory stared at his colleague with adulation, wondering how on Earth was he able to get things done so quickly.

* * *

><p>Ms. Mina was ambling to school when she spotted the familiar figure standing at the playground. Slowly walking up, she greeted, "Good morning, Severus."<p>

Severus, who was engrossed in his library book, winced at his name and dropped it. Peering up with blank, obsidian eyes, he said, "G-G-Good m-morning, ma'am."

Ms. Mina smiled at the boy before her as she bent down to pick up the book on the ground. Severus quickly murmured his thanks.

Ms. Mina noticed that the dark circles which usually were under the boy's eyes weren't there. "How was your night?" Ms. Mina inquired curiously.

Severus managed a tight smile in return. "I-It was… f-fine. B-Better than usual." He didn't receive a thrashing, and he had a dreamless sleep, which was good, but it was repeatedly said that his father might be put to prison or so.

Ms. Mina nodded, having a warm feeling in her heart to finally have helped the abused boy. "That's good," she stated softly. "Have a nice day."

Severus nodded politely. "And you too, ma'am," he said quietly.

As she walked away, millions of thoughts raced into Severus's mind. Ms. Mina cared about him. A _freak _like him. Not only that, but she helped him pick up his library book. And she did not scold or punish him for damaging it or getting it dirty. She was the nicest person, apart from his mother, Lily, and Petunia, he had ever met.

* * *

><p>"I do not abuse my son!" Tobias shouted insistently. "He is a spoilt brat who needs to know his place!"<p>

Agent Rory raised a challenging eyebrow. "Right. You don't. Those scars on his back were made on accident. And all that flinching and cowering is because he thinks we are sadists about to kiss him," he agreed sarcastically.

"Exactly!" Tobias exclaimed indignantly.

Agent Rory bit back a smile as the other agent rolled his eyes. "Well, you do abuse Severus. It is obvious," said Agent Charles, going back on topic.

Before Tobias could reply, Agent Rory continued, "Now. To another issue. It had come to our attention that you have committed murder."

Tobias paled visibly as he listened to the words. "Who told you that?" he demanded, slamming his fist onto the table. "Did the freak tell you that?"

"So you did murder your wife?" Agent Rory hissed furiously, rage boiling up inside him at the word 'freak'.

"No! I didn't!" Tobias hastily tried to cover up. A little too hastily. "Why would I kill _her_?" he scoffed carelessly.

Agent Rory pursed his lips. _Because of the tone of voice you just used when you mentioned her, _he thought. "Well, the Crown will decide if you're guilty or innocent," he said. "But, either way, you _will _be charged for child abuse."

"I'm telling you again, I do not abuse the boy!" Tobias exploded.

Agent Rory rolled his eyes. "Right. I never even heard you call Severus by his proper name," he remarked.

Tobias, realizing that, threw his hands up in defeat. "Well, I still do not abuse the f– Severus," he spat.

"And we still don't believe you," Agent Charles growled menacingly, catching the slip. "Officers," he gestured to the two men behind him.

Agent Rory turned to look at Tobias with cold eyes, challenging him to say do something while the officers walked forward. They restrained Tobias, led him out of the house, and locked him in the back compartment of the police car, before driving off.

* * *

><p>Afterschool, Severus spotted Agent Rory's and Agent Charles's familiar police car beside the pavement. "What do you think that police car is there for?" Lily whispered to him, her emerald eyes twinkling with excitement.<p>

Severus clutched his friend's hand tightly. Lily was the only one he willingly had contact with, with her knowing about his abuse and understanding it too. "They're here for me," he informed her quietly.

Lily turned her bright, innocent eyes upon Severus. "Why?" she asked.

"I-I don't know," Severus replied. "But they want to arrest my dad."

Lily nodded. "That's good," she stated softly. "You can be free from him."

Severus shook his head. Being with his father was better than being alone, uncared for. "Orphanages are bad," he said.

Lily giggled happily. "Which is why you can come live with us!" she grinned.

Severus felt tears sharply prick his eyes at the statement. That was why Lily was his best and only friend. Because she cared. Not pitied.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Another chapter up! Still going by Severus, I know. But you want a 10,000+ word story, I am telling you, this will be one (obviously)! Maybe… 15,000+? We'll see how it goes.**

**Please review! Positive criticism will be appreciated!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Similarities by EnchantedUnicorn**

**Chapter 3**

* * *

><p><strong>Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.<strong>

**A/N: Agent Rory and Agent Charles were called agents back then, now they can be known as child protective services workers.**

That afternoon, Lily ran back home, clutching her backpack tightly as she did. Her long, fiery hair sent waves behind her as the wind blew gently on it. Her eyes, though, were set with determination, stronger determination than she had ever had before.

She had sensed, afterschool, that Severus wanted to live with her, even though he did not reply. She also knew that he was also hesitant. That bastard had installed some quite nasty things into the boy. Often, Petunia and she had to help bring some ice packs and aid Severus after an intense beating. Lily sighed. It was never a satisfying thing for Petunia or her to see the boy in such pain. Even Petunia, who was jealous of them, was willing to help.

Her mother was in the kitchen, preparing dinner. "Smells delicious, Mum," Lily remarked brightly, forgetting for a moment about Severus as she sniffed the heavenly scent.

Her mother turned to look at her. "Thank you, dear," Ms. Evans said, before continuing to chop the cucumber.

Lily's face immediately grew somber again as she remembered her friend. "Mum, Severus said that his father might get arrested." She waited, wondering what her mother's response would be. Never once had she or Petunia told their mother about Severus's abusive situation.

Ms. Evan's raised a questioning eyebrow. "Why?" she inquired curiously, the knife still rhythmically hitting the board. "Everyone knows he's drinks a little too much, though he is not the only person who does."

Lily sighed as she proceeded to explain. "Mum… not only that, but… Severus is abused."

Ms. Evan's eyes widened as she processed the information, and her hand halted abruptly. She had never suspected that the boy was abused… only shy. "Abused? To what degree?" she gasped worriedly. "And why didn't you ever tell me?"

_Because I knew Severus wouldn't want that, _Lily thought, then purposefully avoiding the last question. "So much that Tuney and I had to bring ice packs for him," Lily informed her grimly. 'Tuney' was her nickname for Petunia.

"That may only bring up charges though," Ms. Evans pointed out encouragingly, seemingly not noticing. "So you do not have to worry about him leaving you."

But Lily shook her head, knowing that was not what was bothering her. "No, Mum, there is more to the story than just abuse."

"What then?" Ms. Evans asked, her mouth pressed in a thin line.

Lily shrugged. She was oblivious to what, only her six sense was warning her that there was more. "I don't know. Maybe he'll tell me," she said. "We have to find out."

* * *

><p>"We're taking you to the Crown," Agent Charles explained on the car. "Your father is already there."<p>

Severus clutched the seat tightly. "He won't be arrested, will he?" he whispered.

"I'm sorry?" Agent Charles asked gruffly, the words not audible to his aged ears.

Severus flinched. "H-H-He won't be a-a-arrested, w-will he, sir?" he repeated nervously, hoping he wouldn't be punished for asking a question. His father always did, claiming freaks shouldn't be seen nor heard.

Agent Charles cleared his throat as he gathered his words. "If your father is really guilty, then yes, he will be. However, if it is only child abuse, there is a possibility that he will be left off with just a fine."

"Y-Yes sir," Severus said, already dreading what would happen. If his father was charged, then he would receive a beating. A harsh one. If his father was sent to prison, he would be sent to an orphanage. And he probably would not be able to go to Hogwarts, because he would never be able to go to the magical world without any magical relationships. None of the outcomes were good.

He was later led to the courtroom, where his no one but Tobias sat. Severus eyed him warily, but else ignored him. He, along with the two agents, seated themselves in the front row seats. Tobias did nothing, but the two agents were ready to defend Severus if threatened.

Finally, people started trickling, and finally the Crown and prosecutor. After a few minutes of silence as everyone organized their papers, the prosecutor cleared his throat. "This man, Tobias Snape, has wronged by abusing his son, Severus Snape, to the rate of 7."

Several gasps rang out the room. Tobias immediately stood. "I did not–" he started protesting.

The prosecutor held up his hand. "Furthermore, his son, Severus Tobias Snape, has claimed that he also murdered his wife, Eileen Snape nee Prince. How does the convicted plead?"

"Innocent!" Tobias's voice rang through the room.

"Do you have a barrister?" Tobias shook his head. The Crown, next to the prosecutor, frowned and gestured someone to come forward. "He will be your barrister. Now state your reasons," the Crown said.

Tobias clenched his fists in fury. "That f– err… boy, he has always been a disgrace. Always in trouble, and slacking off in his school work. I tried to pound some sense into him," he shook his head, faking disappointment. "And I did not murder my _wife. _It was suicide. She probably did not want to live with the boy any more." He looked at the impartial Crown expectantly.

"Your claim will be noted," the Crown said, noticing that the other people in the room were already scribbling in their notepads. "Severus Tobias Snape, do you have any objections?"

Agent Rory squeezed Severus's hand encouragingly, and gestured for him to stand. Severus shakily did, and took a deep breath. "M-My father… I-I obviously have not met his expectations, sir. I guess I could say that I deserve the beatings I get." Severus paused, drawing another breath. His heart pace increased as he thought about what he was going to say next. "A-A-And… m-my f-f-father did m-murder my m-mother. H-H-He s-slashed a kn-knife over h-her throat."

More gasps were heard, though the Crown remained stoic. "Is that true?" he asked Tobias.

"No! That freak… I mean boy is just lying!" Tobias spat indignantly.

"His claim will be noted," Tobias's barrister defended.

"Since we do not have enough evidence on the last issue, we will continue with the first. Agents Charles and Rory, do you have anything to add?" said the Crown.

Agent Charles stood. "Yes. First most, we are qualified agents, and we have observed numerous things."

"Very well, do continue," the Crown nodded approvingly.

"The man shows an obvious disliking to his son," Agent Charles stated. "He claims to have thrashed his son, and calls Severus freak and other verbally abusive names. Furthermore, when we first encountered Tobias, he was drunk, so I am assuming that he got drunk and beat Severus quite often. He also was not concerned or worried at all when we said we would take Severus away. In fact, he was the opposite." He seated back down, his mouth pressed firmly into a thoughtful line at his brief speech.

Agent Rory stood, clasping his hands together. "It would be hard to miss the signs of abuse on Severus if you talk to him. His nervous behavior, stuttering, is quite clear. He flinches at a raised hand. The bruise on his face, as some of you might be able to see, was made by his father. Also, there are scars and bruises all over his back, layers of them." He finished, "Last of all, we both have evidence that he _did _murder his wife. When we stated the issue to him, he questioned where we obtained our knowledge, and then hastily tried to decline it." Agent Rory lowered himself back on his seat.

The Crown diverted his attention to Tobias. "Do you have any objections?" he asked.

Tobias banged his hand on his chair. "I object to all! Agent Charles, or the other one, said himself that the boy got all those scars on accident and the flinching and cowering is because he thinks we are sadists or something! Dirty thoughts! And I insist, I did not murder my wife!"

"His claim will be noted," said the barrister again, lips twitching slighting.

Quiet chuckles ran through the room, and Severus could not help but smile. Didn't his father know what _sarcasm _was?

"That is enough. The final close up. Tobias Snape, do you abuse your son?" the Crown declared.

"No," Tobias replied, angrily ignoring the murmurs of protest that ran around the room. God damn it. Couldn't the people take no for an answer? He did not abuse his son, he merely disciplined him. Stupid, idiotic...

"No," his barrister reinforced.

"Did you murder your wife?" the Crown continued.

Tobias's patience, which was hanging on a thin thread, finally snapped, and his blood started boiling. "So what if I did?" he shouted, enraged.

The room was so silent that even a mouse could be heard scurrying across the floor. "So you did?" the Crown inquired calmly.

"Yes, so?" Tobias hissed loudly, still mad. With sudden realization of what he admitted, he quickly tried to cover up. "Well… actually… you see… I did not murder my wife."

"But you just said you did," one member in the room mentioned.

The barrister tried to defend Tobias even though he didn't want to. "He was a little impatient and said the wrong thing." Inside, though, he knew there was no way in this situation to defend the rights of Tobias. Not that he wanted to. He wasn't even the man's official barrister.

Tobias fiddled with his hands nervously. There was no way out of the situation, and he knew it. _Why couldn't I have just controlled my stupid mouth and temper? _"Well, yes… it just slipped… I mean… I misunderstood the question."

The Crown and everyone else looked at the man disbelievingly. "Very well. A raise of hands of who calls innocent?"

No one raised their hand, apart from Tobias and his barrister, who both knew Tobias's end was coming. "A raise of hands of who calls guilty?"

Hands shot up in the air, including Severus's, who did so reluctantly. "Very well. Tobias Snape has been accused of child abuse to the rate of seven and murder of his own spouse. The maximum jail penalty will be dealt out," the Crown announced. "Guards, please restrain the convicted."

Two guards, dressed in black, sprang forward and grabbed Tobias, who was already on his feet. "I object! I object! I did not understand the question! I'm old, you see, my ears are bad! And that boy–" he jerked his head towards Severus "–is nothing but an attention seeking liar!"

"I don't think so," the Crown growled. Now that the trial was over, he was allowed to take sides if he wished. "We have enough evidence to prove you wrong. Don't be surprised if it is in the newspapers tomorrow, because there are reporters in this room currently." He gestured to some people in the corner writing frantically on their notepads.

Agent Rory beckoned Severus to get up. "We will be returning to your house to retrieve your items. Do you have anyone you want to visit?"

Tears sprang into Severus's eyes. He was going to an orphanage. He would be leaving Lily, and Ms. Mina. "Y-Yes sir," he whispered. "M-My neighbor." He wanted to say goodbye to his only friend before he turned his back to her for the very last time.

"Good," Agent Rory said. "We'll go there after we retrieve your items."

They drove to Spinner's End, and stopped at the gloomy house that Severus always dreaded to enter. "Go on in," Agent Rory said. "We'll wait for you out here."

"Y-Yes s-sir," Severus complied, hopping off the car. "T-Thank y-you."

His thanks was acknowledged by a curt nod. Severus, step-by-step, strode to the door and opened it, wincing in surprise as it led out a loud _creak. _He sniffed the familiar, acrid odor. _It is reminds me of my father, since it is his smell.… Not is. Was. He would never get his hands on a bottle in prison._

Snapping out of his thoughts, he headed towards his room. He gathered all his belongings and stuffed them in his trunk carelessly. What was really important to him was his photo album, and all the other pictures of his mother. He gently placed his album in his trunk.

Then, he headed towards his mother's room, which was left untouched for nearly a year. Ignoring the sudden wave of sadness that washed over him, he headed towards her drawer. He took all her items and also put them in his trunk, forcefully slamming the lid on.

Satisfied that he had everything he needed, he shakily headed outside again, closing the dusty door, and finally leaving the place he had called home for the very last time.

The two agents were out there waiting for him patiently, as they said. "Ready?" Agent Rory questioned, noticing how little the boy had.

"Y-Yes sir," Severus nodded nervously, worried that the agent was eying his trunk. What was wrong with it? Was it too big for a freak like him? If it was any smaller, his belongings wouldn't fit in there. And there was a lot of stuff in it too. It _was _really heavy.

"Where does your neighbor live?" Agent Rory asked.

Severus pointed to the relatively bright house beside his. "M-My neighbor lives there," he informed him, before blushing. _Of course my neighbor lives there! That is our neighboring house anyway. I have to remember to shut my mouth in the future._

Agent Rory did not seem the least troubled. "Good," he said. "Let's head there now."

Something suddenly hit Severus. Mr. Evans was home. What if he was displeased at the sudden interruption in his house? But it was too late, as Agent Charles and Agent Evans had already started walking. Severus gripped his trunk tightly, and stumbled behind them two.

Agent Charles turned to look at Severus, and seeing how the trunk was dragging down the boy's arms, he offered, "Would you like me to help you?"

Severus blinked, not able to believe that someone would want to help him. Quickly straightening and trying to make it seem like he wasn't having any difficulty, he stammered, "N-No, s-s-sir. Th-Thank y-you, s-sir."

Agent Charles arched an eyebrow. _What on Earth did the bastard install into Severus? _"Are you sure?" he asked uncertainly.

"Y-Yes s-sir," Severus replied automatically, chewing on his lower lip while looking into the agent's eyes stubbornly.

"Very well then," Agent Charles sighed, giving in. The boy's will was just too strong for his own good. Not that any of it was his fault.

They arrived at the house, Severus breathing deeply in and out. "This one?" Agent Charles asked.

"Yes sir," Severus replied tersely. Was his instruction unclear?

They walked forward and stepped on the porch. Agent Charles knocked the door loudly, causing Severus to cower back in surprise.

A tall, intimidating man opened the door. "Yes?" he asked coldly, staring at the seemingly familiar skinny figure, yet obviously not recognizing Severus. It was well expected, though, since they hadn't met in a long time.

But Severus recognized the man as Mr. Evans, and he clenched his fists fearfully. His legs unwillingly started to tremble, as he set his jaw firmly in place to keep it from shaking too. Agent Rory eventually noticed the helpless state Severus was in, and quickly introduced, "I am Agent Rory, and he is Agent Charles. This is Severus. His father has recently been arrested, and he would like to speak to… your family." The words _before he goes _was unspoken, but it hovered in between the two of them.

Sudden recognition hit the man, and his face gained some warmth. "Severus!" Mr. Evans greeted politely. "Long time no see!" He grew somber again as he remembered the issue. "Do come in," he gestured to the three of them.

Severus stepped back, allowing the two agents to enter first, but Agent Rory gently put a hand on his shoulder. He instinctively winced took another step back. "After you," Agent Rory said quietly, seeing the reaction.

Severus hastily hurried in and kept as much distance as he could from Mr. Evans. Agent Rory and Agent Charles followed close behind him.

"Now, Severus why don't you go find Lily and Petunia? They are upstairs in their room," Mr. Evans suggested kindly. Both agents kept the soothing tone in mind.

"Y-Yes sir," Severus said, tensing as he walked past Mr. Evans, and trudged up to find his friend and her sister. Carefully, he knocked on their door. "Who's there?" a harmonic voice called.

Severus smiled softly to himself. That voice was the most beautiful, melodic voice on Earth. One that he would leave soon. "Severus," he replied.

The door opened immediately. "Sev!" the auburn-hair girl greeted.

"Lily," Severus returned, allowing a smile to grace his lips once again. "I-I… have to talk to you about something."

"Privately?" Lily guessed, knowing how Severus was. He usually wanted to keep rather personal matters a secret.

"Yes," Severus nodded with appreciation. Did Lily know him that well? "You can tell Petunia later," he added as an afterthought. After all, she did deserve to know the truth because of the numerous times she had helped him.

"Tell me what?" a voice in the room asked, presumably Petunia's.

"You'll know later," Lily answered as she turned her head towards the room. Her mind was sparking millions of worrying thoughts that she did not know whether they were true or not.

She looked back at Severus. "Let's go to the bathroom," she said.

Severus nodded, and followed Lily in to the tiny room, before slowly closing it shut. "My father," Severus started. "He has been arrested."

Lily smiled happily. "Finally!" she exclaimed. "He was a mean bastard."

Severus bit his lip. Lily did not understand that he was leaving her. "He's staying in jail for twenty years," he added reluctantly.

"Good," Lily said, not getting the point. "You deserve to be free from him."

Severus shrugged, unsure if he could believe that or not. "H-He murdered my mother," Severus finally admitted.

"What?!" Lily exploded. "How on earth could he kill his own wife?"

The horrid memory brought tears back to Severus's eyes. "I-I-I d-do not know," he whispered. "B-But I'm s-sorry to say that I'll be leaving you, Lily."

Lily's eyes widened. That was what Severus was trying to tell her the whole time. She pushed herself forward and hugged Severus tightly, tears forming in her eyes as he flinched. "Oh, Sev…" she trailed off softly, finally letting the tears trickle down her cheeks as she clung onto him tighter, putting her slim hands on his shoulders.

Severus too broke down, sobbing quietly as he thought about how he would leave his childhood friend forever.

* * *

><p>"Do sit," Mr. Evans invited. Agent Rory and Agent Charles were surprised once again, but gratefully accepted the offer.<p>

Agent Rory was gestured by his partner to begin. Thinking of good start, he asked, "Is there anything you know about Severus and his father?"

"I've been told Lily plays with him often," Mr. Evans informed him, wondering why that was important. "The boy's quite shy, from what I know. His father… well they say he isn't a very good one."

Agent Rory's ears pricked up. Why hadn't they been informed of this? "How?" he inquired, trying to hide his eagerness.

"He's a drunk in this town," Mr. Evans said. "Thought everyone knew that."

Agent Rory nodded in understanding. They had discovered that themselves. "Only that?"

"Yes," Mr. Evans confirmed. "But kindly explain to me some more," he said.

Agent Charles bit back a smile as Agent Rory hastily said, "Well, Severus's father… well… he was arrested."

"I know that already," Mr. Evans stated.

Agent Rory sighed, and continued, "Yes. Well, he was arrested for child abuse."

"What?!" Mr. Evans exclaimed. "Child abuse?!" Yes, screams from Severus's house was heard during the night, but he had only thought that him and his father were arguing _rather _loudly.

"Yes," Agent Rory said. "Child abuse. Of course, we have seen the signs. Bruises, flinching, scars, nervousness, those are all signs of child abuse."

"I have never suspected…." Mr. Evans trailed off softly. "But why is he arrested?" Child abuse rarely was bad enough for the suspected to get sent to jail, and he knew that.

"He also murdered his wife," Agent Charles explained reasonably. "Twenty year sentence."

Mr. Evans's eyes widened, as he swore, "Bastard! And he claimed it was by suicide."

"I know, right?" Agent Rory said, remembering that particular moment. "I don't feel the least bit sorry for him."

"Me either," Agent Charles agreed with his partner.

Mr. Evans sighed. They were getting off track. "Is that all you have to say?"

"Yes," they responded simultaneously.

"Very well," Mr. Evans said, gears spinning in his head. "Allow me to discuss something with my wife for a moment."

* * *

><p>"I just feel bad for the boy," Mr. Evans said to Ms. Evans, throwing his hands up in the air to show emphasis.<p>

Ms. Evans nodded, she too feeling sympathetic for the boy. "I know," she said. "But there is nothing we could do."

"I think we should adopt him," Mr. Evans blurted. Ever since he saw the boy again that day on the doorstep, he was thinking of how nice it would be to have him as a son. The boy was polite, and his behavior… well… just affected him in some way.

Ms. Evans was astonished at the sudden decision. "W-Why?" she spluttered. "Not that I am saying it is a bad idea," she hastily added.

"He's a good friend of Lily," Mr. Evans said. "It would hurt them both to leave each other. Furthermore, they both share–" he lowered his voice down to a whisper "–_the gift._"

"Yes, they do," Ms. Evans decided, seeing the logic behind his thoughts. "Alright. We will adopt him, and raise him as our own."

* * *

><p>"Would you like us to bring Severus to the orphanage now?" Agent Rory questioned, unsure if the girl called 'Lily' wanted to spend more time with him.<p>

Mr. Evans cleared his throat. "Actually, we have been thinking to adopt him," he admitted truthfully.

Agent Rory and Agent Charles seemed flabbergasted for a moment before the younger agent recovered. He thought that that was acceptable, and glanced over at his partner questionably. After Agent Charles's indistinct nod, he stammered, "Err… very well. I... err... will give you the papers now... and he will be yours."

Mr. Evans did not really like the sound of "he will be yours" but did not comment on it. "Thank you," he inclined his head. "I can go with you to the station if it is too inconvenient."

"Oh, no need," Agent Rory assured him, now calm at seeing that Mr. Evans was really the thoughtful sort of person. He reached into his bag and flipped through the papers, before pulling four out. "Fill these out and we will take them to the officer. Severus will be yours."

"Alright," Mr. Evans agreed, and reached forward towards the table to take a pencil, before setting to work.

* * *

><p>Mr. Evans trudged up the stairs, finally have completed the paperwork. The two agents had already gone to deliver the forms. Mr. Evans knocked on Lily's and Petunia's door. "Yes?" Petunia called from the inside. Moments later, the door opened.<p>

"Where is Lily and Severus?" he asked silkily, after briefly scanning the room.

"I believe they are in the bathroom," Petunia answered.

"Thank you," Mr. Evans said, already heading towards his destination. Straining his ears, he heard muffled sobs coming from the room. _They're crying, _he thought sadly. _But they won't after I tell them the good news._

Knocking on the door, he did not bat an eyelid when a voice, obviously Lily's, hiccuped, "W-Who's th-there?"

"Me," Mr. Evans responded, knowing that his daughter knew how he sounded like.

Eventually, the door opened ajar, two emerald eyes peeking out. "Wh-What do you w-want?" she sniffed shamelessly.

"I have something I need to tell both of you," Mr. Evans said, frowning as he saw no sign of Severus. "Severus, you too."

In the bathroom, Severus tensed, but he knew he had no choice but to face the man. Lily opened the door wider and Severus stepped forward stiffly. "Y-Y-Yes s-s-sir?" he asked shakily.

"Good," Mr. Evans said. "Now Severus, this may be a shock to you… but here it goes… I am adopting you."

Severus eyes widened at the sudden proclamation. He was a useless _freak_, having Lily as a friend was good enough, but adoption… he did not get it. "S-S-Sir… y-you d-do not h-have to," he stuttered quietly.

"It's already done," Mr. Evans said, silently cursing at Tobias. Any normal kid would go, "Really? Thanks!" But not Severus. Severus had tried to tell him that it was not necessary. While stammering.

"A-Are y-you c-c-certain?" Severus questioned nervously, before cowering back to the wall. What was wrong with him? Not addressing Mr. Evans as 'sir', and asking a direct question? No wonder he was such a freak.

Lily's heart broke as she saw her friend flinch back to the wall. Mr. Evans stared at the boy before him. "Severus," he called gently. "Look at me." Gradually, Severus forced his head up and stared at Mr. Evans feet.

"No, Severus," Mr. Evans commanded softly. "Look in my eyes."

Biting his lip, Severus complied, staring into Mr. Evan's eyes blankly. "It's alright, Severus" Mr. Evans assured him. The truth was, he did not know why the boy was so afraid. "And I am sure I want to adopt you."

Severus gulped, and looked back down. "Th-Thank you, s-sir," he whispered, tears again forming in his eyes. He had someone, an adult, who actually cared for him. And there was finally hope that he was going to have a real family.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: 4000+ words! To remind you, this is **_**my own universe**_**. After all, this is fanfiction. Which means that however the trial runs in this story is how it runs in this universe. And whatever thing that happens in this story that is different from canon or the British history is probably my imagination. No grudge held ;).**

**Okay, the "rate of seven" I completely made up. I'm pretty sure there is no such thing. But my idea is that 1 is the lowest, 10 is the highest. 1 is occasional child abuse, 10 is very severe child abuse (including sexual abuse too). 7/10 **_**is **_**high. So, that is my rating system I created on the spot that you may criticize if you want.**

**Something I need to clarify: While the agents were on the issue of the child abuse, they also included the issue of murder. Yes, **_**they are qualified**_**, but they do not have that much experience because they mainly work in the child abuse department. Agent Charles is more experienced than Agent Rory, though.**

**Please review! Constructive criticism will be appreciated! **


	4. Chapter 4

**Similarities by EnchantedUnicorn**

**Chapter 4**

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><p><strong>Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.<strong>

"The guest bedroom will now be yours," Mr. Evans introduced warmly as he led Severus to the room beside Lily's and Petunia's.

Severus risked a peek in, and almost gasped. The room was so big, almost twice the size of his previous bedroom. It even had a desk. Worthless freaks like him did not deserve anything like that. Was Mr. Evans playing a trick on him, or trying to tease him? But as he looked up into Mr. Evans eyes, they held only seriousness. "S-S-Sir, b-but th-then where w-will y-your g-guest s-sleep?" he stuttered nervously. He definitely was just a waste of space, taking up their only free bedroom.

"Oh, I'm sure we will find some place," Mr. Evans smiled encouragingly, grimly noticing the chopped words.

Severus gulped. The man just did not understand. Oh well, he would discover the point Severus was trying to make later on, so it did not matter. "Y-Yes, sir," Severus whispered. "Th-Thank you sir."

"You are my son," Mr. Evans responded quietly. He put an arm around the boy's shoulder, sighing as the boy flinched away.

Tears pricked into Severus's eyes once again when the words were spoken as he cowered away. He will prove that he was a worthy son to Lily's father, he will.

* * *

><p>"Lunch will be at noon, sharp, Severus," Mr. Evans informed the boy that had backed up to a wall at his appearance.<p>

"Y-Yes, sir," Severus nodded. "H-How do you want me t-to help, sir?" His father had always asked him to make some sort of meal, because he claimed he was too busy to make it himself. With sudden realization, he quickly added, "I-I do not m-mean to i-insult M-Ms. E-Evan's c-cooking, s-sir."

Mr. Evans looked surprised for a moment, before explaining promptly, "Severus, boys your age do not help cook. They play, do their homework, and sleep."

Severus bit his lip after listening to the commands. He was not allowed to eat in this house? His father always let him eat, unless he was on punishment. But it made sense; he did not cook, he should not get to eat. "Y-Yes s-sir," he understood dejectedly.

_Why is the boy sad? _Mr. Evans thought. _I have just offered him much better options than his bloody father did. _"What's wrong?" he enquired softly.

Severus raised his eyes at the caring tone, and felt compelled to answer. "S-S-Sir, am… am… am I-I allowed t-to eat?" he questioned. When Mr. Evan's face clouded with disappointment, he shrank back into a corner and stammered hastily, "I-I'm sorry, sir! P-P-Please… I-I'll n-never ask again! I-I'm s-sorry! Pl-Please d-don't…" He trailed off, realizing what he was about to say.

"Calm down, Severus," Mr. Evans coaxed soothingly, comprehending the misinterpretation. "Please don't what?"

Severus hunched his shoulders. "Err… h-h-h-hit m-me?" he suggested nervously. Now Mr. Evans was really going to thrash him because of what he just implied.

Mr. Evans frowned thoughtfully. "Let me get this straight with you, Severus," he directed, watching sternly as Severus ducked his head. "No, look at me."

Hesitantly, Severus brought his chin up, staring into Mr. Evans face with fear. He watched in horror and confusion as Mr. Evans knelt down before him. "Severus," he said softly. As he placed a hand on the boy's shoulder, Severus tensed automatically. "I will never hit you. Never, in my whole life, will I do so. Do you understand?" Mr. Evans stated with a low voice.

_This is all a trick! This is all a trick! _Severus's instincts screamed. But, unwillingly, he found himself nodding to the man.

"Good boy," Mr. Evans praised, smiling genuinely once again. He would earn the boy's trust, and free him from the prison Tobias set him into. "Now why don't you go find Lily?"

Severus nodded again, trying to hide his eagerness of escaping from this terrifying man and going to his best friend. "Y-Yes, sir, th-thank you sir," he said, and with his eyes on the ground, he shuffled away with short strides.

* * *

><p>After a heavy lunch –he was the fullest he could ever be –Severus excused himself and brought his dish to the sink. He was about to wash it when Ms. Evans's voice cut through. "Don't worry, dear, I'll take care of it," she hurried to say.<p>

Severus looked surprised, but complied. _I do not need to do chores? _he pondered. Before he had a chance to think more, Lily brought her dish to the sink and asked, "Do you want to go to the playground?" she asked, her eyes twinkling merrily.

Severus was unsure of going to the place where he had Lily had met for a moment. "If your father would allow it," he responded hesitantly. He was strongly aware of the fact that Mr. Evans's eyes were currently on him.

"You may," said the voice he had just been conscious of.

Despite that, though, Severus startled, and quickly turned around, bowing his head. "Y-Yes s-sir, th-th-thank you, s-sir," he stammered.

All he got was a small, sad smile from Mr. Evans as he walked away with Lily.

At the playground, Lily asked Severus lightly, "Why are you so afraid of my father?" How Severus was acting to her father, all nervous and shy, was unnerving her. She didn't think there was anything to be afraid of. But –this was most possibly the reason –he was abused, and it would be difficult to turn Severus into a trusting, normal child. But she wanted to help the best that she could, so she needed to know reasons.

Severus fidgeted uncomfortably at such a personal question. "I do not know. He… looks strict. It frightens me," he replied uncertainly. The tall figure, the deep voice, it all sent shivers down his spine.

Lily's heart clenched at the words. "I'm sorry, Sev. I'll never know how it feels to be in you place, but remember this. My father, he is not like your father. He does not hit anyone intentionally, so, please, Sev, don't be scared of him," she pleaded. It hurt her, since the beginning, to see her friend so broken and hurt.

Severus wanted to believe in Lily, but there was still an ounce of distrust in his heart. "I'll try," he answered absentmindedly.

"Thanks, Sev," Lily sighed happily, the meaningful words profoundly giving her hope. "Do you want to play at the swings?"

Severus thankfully breathed in relief at the change of subject. "Why not?" he returned.

* * *

><p>The day Severus and Lily were sent to Hogwarts, they both had hope that they would be sorted into the same house. As it turned out, though, Severus was sorted into Slytherin, and Lily Gryffindor. However, their friendship never wavered, and they got through past all their years at Hogwarts, sticking close to each other.<p>

James Potter and Sirius Black, cavalier brats at first, always bullied Severus prejudicially because he was in Slytherin. Lucius Malfoy and his followers did too, taunting him for being a brother of a 'Mudblood'. Lily always stood up for Severus, though, and since it was not private knowledge that they two were siblings, Severus was never more grateful.

Headmaster Dumbledore, a senile old man, saw most Slytherins as nothing but cunning, sly, in other words bad. He always took in favor of the Marauders –James Potter, Sirius Black, Peter Pettigrew, and Sirius Black –despite the protests from Professor Slughorn and Professor McGonagall. The Gryffindor head, the librarian, and the school matron all saw past Severus's reputation of being in Slytherin. They were one of the only ones who heard and understood him. And they were the only adults who knew he was previously abused.

But as the years passed by, James Potter matured. He did not tease Severus, only giving a curt nod to Severus when they encountered. Lily started growing in love to the handsome Gryffindor, much to Severus's dismay. However, she did not go out with him, because of what he did to Severus in the past school years. Finally, James apologized to what sounded sincerely to both Lily and Severus alone. He gained Lily's approval, and a threat also.

Then, when school ended, they married, and moved to a house in Godric's Hollow, separating from Severus. Whenever they visited each other, though, Severus, as much as he did not want to, tolerated James Potter for Lily's sake. James Potter no longer teased him, and occasionally, he apologized. Although much of the hate from James Potter was gone, dislike was still in his heart.

When Lucius Malfoy offered Severus a place in a group where he would be accepted in, his first instinct was to say yes. He wanted to be worth something, to be someone important. Then, he recalled that that man was a follower of Lord Voldemort, and at the end decided no.

Severus felt a natural sense of joy, something he rarely felt, for Lily when she gave birth. The child, Harry Potter, though he loathed to admit it, was quite adorable –excluding one fact: he was the spitting image of his father. Harry had Lily's eyes, though.

A month later, after Severus had sworn secrecy with an Unbreakable Vow, Lily had informed him that Harry was the child of the prophecy, the one to defeat Voldemort. Because of that, Voldemort was after him, and they were to go into hiding.

Lily had wanted Severus to be their secret keeper, but despite Lily's arguments, James had claimed that 'Slytherins were not to be trusted', so they chose Sirius Black. Unbeknownst to anyone else, though, after a few months, the couple changed their secret keeper into Peter Pettigrew. It was him who betrayed them.

Lord Voldemort found Lily's house and invaded it, first killing the father. When he got to Lily, however, she did not budge, rather pleaded to be killed instead, blocking Harry with her body. Her fate, though, was inevitable, as Lord Voldemort would have killed her whether or not she begged him to do so. Lily was slain by the Killing Curse, but the green beam of light rebounded off the crying Harry's head and hit the evil man, destroying Lord Voldemort.

Thus, despite the protests of Professor McGonagall, Harry was sent the Dursleys after this tragic event in Godric's Hollow. Severus, however, did not object, because from what he knew, Petunia would not hold a grudge against Harry.

Yes, Severus was right, but he was also wrong.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Merry (early) Christmas! I'll be on break then, so I would not be able to say that to you all.**

**Please, no more reviews about the marriage of James and Lily. I believe I explained it all.**

**This chapter is important. And short. Please review, constructive criticism appreciated! Thank you. That can be my Christmas gift… **

**I am learning Latin! Iesus=Jesus. (who's good? :P)**


	5. Chapter 5

**Similarities by EnchantedUnicorn**

**Chapter 5**

* * *

><p><strong>Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.<strong>

**A/N: Thank you to everyone who is reading this! I appreciate the reviews, the follows, and the favorites!**

Severus groaned inaudibly as he prepared for the Welcoming Feast. He hated such large feasts; he always felt awkward and unwelcome in them. But what was really bothering him was Harry Potter. He was starting Hogwarts this year, and Severus had no idea how Harry was like. Was he a spoiled, overweight brat? Mildly possible. Was he like Lily, then? Friendly, protective, and open to all his peers? Probably.

Professor Snape sighed thoughtfully, and strolled to the Great Hall. The boy was most likely going to be in Gryffindor, because his parents were in that house. But… Harry was not raised by his parents though, so it was possible that he would be sorted into Ravenclaw or Hufflepuff.

Students slowly trickled in the Great Hall, and the chatter in the room increased immensely. Severus was glad when Professor Dumbledore made his brief speech, and announced that the sorting was about to begin.

Draco Malfoy, Theodore Nott, and only a few more first-year students were sorted into Slytherin. Figured, not many wanted to be sorted into a house with a bad reputation. A Weasley, Granger, Longbottom, and four more students were sorted into Gryffindor. Hufflepuff gained seven new students, Ravenclaw was about to add another eight. Professor Flitwick and Professor Sprout looked overly delighted. Severus wasn't, though. He would have to put up with more brats. And judging by the arrogant look on the blond boy's face, he wasn't to be disappointed.

Why he chose a job at Hogwarts, he did not know. Was it one of the easiest jobs? Or was it the most entertaining job? After all, Potions was his passion. But why he did not work in an apothecary, or a hospital, his mind did not comprehend. Maybe he thought of Hogwarts as his second home, or he unconsciously felt an urge to teach. Either way, the salary was decent.

When Severus heard, "Potter, Harry!" being called, he snapped out of his thoughts. Squinting his eyes, he noticed a short figure shuffling towards the Sorting Hat. Two interpretations sprang into his mind: The boy was an attention-seeking child, and the reason why he was so short was because he was a picky eater.

Minutes ticked by, and Severus wondered why in Merlin's name was the boy taking so long. His lips thinned impatiently, and he breathed a sigh of relief when the Sorting Hat opened his mouth. However, the respite was immediately gone as the tattered hat declared, "Slytherin!"

Suddenly, utter silence fell over the Great Hall, and Severus felt like every single pair of eyes were either on him or Harry. Harry Potter, the Boy-who-lived, the Golden Child, was in Slytherin? That was virtually impossible. Then, Severus, being the self-preserved Slytherin he was, quickly regained his senses and began applauding slowly. The other professors, excluding the headmaster though, began joining in, and soon did the Slytherin table. When Severus noticed that Harry was looking at him, still loitering beside the Sorting Hat, he jerked his head toward the Slytherin table, satisfied as the boy complied.

Eventually, the real feast began. With a wave of Dumbledore's hand, a grand meal appeared on each of the tables. While every child dug into the rich food, Severus indistinctly noticed that Harry had waited until everyone else beside him served large amounts of food before the boy took small portions. Was Harry allergic to something, was he on a diet, or did he think that the food had some minor problems? Deciding to speak with him later, Severus began eating.

* * *

><p>Harry watched as Hermione and Ron were sorted into Gryffindor. He instantly wished that he was too; they were his first friends in the magical world, and he wanted to be with him. When his name was called, he walked forward nervously, aware that all eyes on the room were on him.<p>

The Sorting Hat was placed on his head, covering his eyes and sentencing him to complete darkness.

_Harry Potter, isn't it? _a voice in his mind said.

Harry startled. _W-Who are you? What are you doing in my mind? _he thought.

A chuckle was heard, before the voice replied, _I'm the Sorting Hat, Mr. Potter! Seems it was just yesterday when your parents sat on this very stool._

_My parents? _Harry thought, pricking up instantly. He did not know anything about his parents, other than they died in a car crash, and they were freaks like him.

_You are not a freak, neither are your parents,_ the Sorting Hat scolded, reading Harry's mind. _Your parents were both in Gryffindor._

Harry's eyebrows shot up. Ron and Hermione were in Gryffindor, his parents were in Gryffindor. At all, it would be best if he were too.

_No, Mr. Potter, _the Sorting Hat clucked. It was then when Harry realized that the Sorting Hat was listening to every single one of his thoughts. _While you do have courage in you, young one, Gryffindor isn't the right house._

Harry's heart dropped at the words. _W-Why? _he stuttered dejectedly.

_There is a better house for you. Let's see… Hufflepuff… you are hardworking, yet that is not the right house for you… Ravenclaw… while you do have the wits to be in Ravenclaw… that is not the one either…_.

By then, Harry was starting to get nervous. Minutes had already passed, and he still had not been sorted. What if there simply wasn't any house for him? Would he have to go back to Uncle Vernon and endure a long tongue-lashing _and _a real thrashing?

_Another mistreated one, right, Mr. Potter? Well, you have ambition… you have courage, determination, wits, and talents–_

_I-I d-do? _Harry cut through, before wincing at the interruption.

The Sorting Hat did not seem to be bothered at all. _Yes, though they are still hidden, Mr. Potter. Well, better be –"_SLYTHERIN!"

Harry bit his lip; he was not sorted into Gryffindor, but oh well. He would have to live with it. Shakily taking off the hat, he felt awkward as all attentive eyes were staring at him or a strict-looking professor in black.

Finally, the silence was broken as the professor he had just been contemplating started clapping for him, and soon the whole room was filled with applauses. Harry gaped; why were they applauding for _him? _Unsure of what to do, he looked at the dark man, who sharply pointed his chin to a table with a green cloth over it. Gratefully, Harry followed his instruction.

After a while, the positively ancient man with a beard spoke some more words, though his voice held a tint of disappointment. Harry flinched –why couldn't he ever please anyone? Everything he did at the Dursley's was a failure, and now he had little doubt that Hogwarts would be any different.

Much to Harry's shock, food appeared on the table. Harry's eyes widened, and he gazed wistfully at the food. His housemates began shoveling their plates with food, but Harry just sat still, nervously. He was certain that he, a freak, was not allow to have such food.

Then, a blond boy beside him nudged him and raised a questioning eyebrow. Harry, flushing, learned that his name was Draco Malfoy. Finally, the irresistible aroma consumed him, and he found himself scooping a bit of what looked like safe, non-oily foods for him before he was full.

When the feast was over, Harry and his other housemates were led by their head of house, Professor Snape, and Slytherin prefects, to their common room. The password, one that Harry found likeable, was 'Serpentine'.

Professor Snape strode up confidently to the front of the common room. Through all his years of abuse, he had been satisfied that all his old habits had been washed away by new, better ones. _Normal _ones.

Clearing his throat, he ordered, "Be quiet." Immediately, Harry's head snapped up, his emerald eyes wide. That order surely was not directed to him, was it? He had not even made a single sound, knowing, and understanding, that freaks should not be heard.

"I am Professor Snape, your head of house. We are Slytherins," Professor Snape drawled, his eyes scanning over the room searchingly. "We have ambition, we have pride, and we have knowledge. We are willing to risk things, yet we are not as foolish as the _Gryffindor _house. We _rival _the _Ravenclaw _house with our intelligence. And of course, we are not as _emotional _as the Hufflepuff house, but it is expected from all of you to do your best. Do you understand?" Professor Snape glowered menacingly, wordlessly telling them he was yet to be obeyed.

The Slytherin firsties hastily nodded, not wanting to anger their new head on the first day. Harry's mind, though, was spinning with disbelief as he processed the words. Why was he sorted into Slytherin? He had no ambition, no pride, most of all no intelligence. He was always did worse than Dudley, fortunately, else he would have received a beating from his uncle.

Professor Snape's gaze fell on Harry, who was not nodding and appeared to be lost in his thoughts. Professor Snape's lips curled with distaste. He could not help but notice that the boy was the spitting image of James Potter. Spoiled, arrogant brat, if not by Petunia then by his uncle, Dursley. "Mr. Potter," he sneered, however he forced his voice to a gentle tone when Harry tensed. "Do you have a problem?" He at first expected a defiant, disrespectful answer.

Harry bit his lip. He had many, not that he would admit them. He was worried that he would not meet the professor's expectations, he was afraid of what the professor might do to him if he didn't, he was nervous about how the other professors were like. The list was endless, but he forced himself to answer, "N-No, s-sir." Uncle Vernon had always told him to keep his problems and pain to himself, so he would not be a disturbance.

Professor Snape frowned at the boy, who was receiving many looks from his peers. "Very well," he said, a strange sense troubling his stomach. Why was Potter acting that way? After a few moments, he snapped, "Flint! What is the number one rule in this house?"

Flint looked surprised at being called, before replying, "Slytherins are one."

The answer was brief, and Harry had expected it to be wrong. He watched in dread as Professor Snape opened his mouth, but then instead remarked, "Correct." Harry inwardly berated himself, cursing at how he had thought badly of an older housemate.

"Slytherins are one, we are a family. We stick up for each other, we protect each other. _Never_ do we hurt one of our own." Professor Snape sent them a withering glare, his thoughts tracing back to his own childhood. He reinforced that because he did not want bullying and fighting to start, even though there was no doubt that sooner or later it will. "If I find out that you do, the consequences will not be pleasant."

Harry gulped. Was corporal punishment allowed at Hogwarts? Did they use a belt too, or a cane? What kind of punishments _were _there? His uncle beat him, starved him, burned him, and locked him up. Were the professors allowed to do that too?

"Furthermore, if you get a detention from any of your professors, including me, you will receive additional detentions." Shock filled many of the first-years' faces, but Harry's remained impassive. He was used to that.

"I must tell you, none of the other houses do this, but we are unique. The other houses hold prejudice against us, and you all must learn control and success. I want you to please every single one of your professors as best as you can. I do not want you to start fights. Remember this: you all are ambitious, resourceful, intelligent, and cunning. And overall, remember the number one rule." Professor Snape paused, taking a deep breath. He could see that he had gotten the message across. "Very well. Today night only, your bedtimes are at nine o' clock, and lights out at nine-thirty. You all are dismissed. Prefects, lead the first-years to their dormitories."

He walked towards a staircase, his black robes billowing behind him, before he spun on his heel and called, "Mr. Potter. A word with you, please."

Harry eyes widened with fear, thinking back to what he could have possibly done wrong. Seeing the strict look Professor Snape was holding on him, he hurriedly shuffled out of the crowd and to Professor Snape. Uncle Vernon hated waiting, and Harry was almost positive Professor Snape was the same. "Y-Yes, sir?" he stammered, staring at the ground with growing comprehension.

"Follow me," Professor Snape gestured, leading the boy down the staircase and to his office. Inaudibly muttering the password, the door disappeared to reveal a small room lined with several bookshelves. Sitting down, he conjured another chair beside his desk.

Harry looked at the wooden chair blankly, backing in to a corner, where he felt safe. "A-A-Are you expecting someone, sir?" he asked softly.

Professor Snape felt anger boiling in him, before pushing it down. But still, was the boy, trying to be cheeky, or insolent, or funny? He would not tolerate such… impertinence. "What do you mean, boy?" he hissed, venom that he learned from his childhood dripping in his voice.

Harry shrank back at the fury he heard, but tried not to show fear. Showing fear did not help –it never did. "S-S-Sir… the chair…" he responded weakly.

Professor Snape would have found that amusing were it not for his previous anger. "The chair is for you," he scoffed. But deep in his heart, he was beginning to think that something with Potter was off; he was not acting like the pampered prince he had predicted.

Harry instantly blushed at the simple words. The chair was for him? A chair, a perfectly good one, was conjured just for him, a freak? It seemed unbelievable even to his own mind. Despite that, he complied, shakily sitting on the hard chair. Wincing, he carefully watched the professor's hands and waited for his rant to start.

Professor Snape sighed, noting Harry's alert body posture. "I assure you, you have nothing to fear, Mr. Potter." He sighed again when the boy did not move a muscle. "Why were you eating small portions during the Welcoming Feast?"

Harry paled. He knew that freaks were not allowed to indulge in good food, yet he did. He was going to get punished. _Right after Uncle Vernon's beating! _"I-I'm sorry, sir, I'm sorry," Harry whispered, his hands clutching the sides of his chair tightly. "I'm sorry, sir, please don't punish me." Begging, though, he knew, never helped.

Professor Snape raised an eyebrow, thoughts floating around in his head. The pleas struck familiar recognition, though he could not place where he had heard them. And why was Potter apologizing? He was only implying that the boy should eat more. "Why are you apologizing? And who said I was going to punish you?"

Harry winced, and answered, "I-I don't know. S-Sir. A-And I ate f-food." Harry dug his fingernails into his palm, and whispered as if with realization, "Perfectly good food."

Professor Snape knew that it was not meant for him to hear that, but he did, barely. He hastened to assure the strange boy. "No… no I did not mean that, Potter. I am saying that you should eat more."

Harry's eyes widened, and he shook his head. "I-I-I can't sir, I can't. I'm sorry, sir. I'm sorry. I-I'm a f-f-freak, and I-I know it. I'm sorry, sir," he finished, looking down at his scarred hands dejectedly.

When his mind comprehended the words, Professor Snape banged his hand on the desk furiously. Harry cowered back into his chair, but Professor Snape was too outraged to notice. "Who told you that?" he demanded.

Harry began crying silently, as he knew he was in for it. _Never tell anyone. No crying, no sniveling, no asking questions. No talking back. _Remembering that, Harry gradually stopped. He looked up to see Professor Snape, his concerned, onyx eyes observing him carefully.

"Who told you that?" Professor Snape repeated quietly, biting back his distasteful words.

It would do no good to lie now. Harry did not want to make the professor angrier at him than he already was. But still… facing Uncle Vernon's wrath would be horrible, even worse. Stiffening, the words came out of his mouth. "I-I-I can't say." Instantaneously, he sprang off the chair and ran to the nearest corner, huddling up there.

Harry saw a dark shadow looming above him, and unconsciously squeezed his eyes shut while holding his arms up to protect himself from any impending blows. "I-I'm s-sorry, s-sir, I-I'm s-sorry. I-I c-can't t-tell you though. P-Please don't –" Harry was halted abruptly by a hand making contact with his shoulder. Instinctively, he cowered away. The professor had realized he was merely a freak. But… there was no pain, apart from the slight sting there was when his bruise was touched. "S-Sir?"

Professor Snape looked at the boy beneath him. Was this real, or just an attention-seeking act? "Get up," he ordered harshly, his head now throbbing with pain.

Harry stood, his arms behind his back in a submissive way. "Here's all I want from you, Mr. Potter," Professor Snape said slowly, cautious about frightening the boy. "Eat as much as you can, and never call yourself a freak again. Or else there will be consequences."

Harry stared at the stony, cold floor. Didn't the man understand that he _was _a freak? "S-Sir, I-I… I-I am a freak. I-I have been all my life, s-s… since I was born."

The insolence of the boy! Why was he testing him and making this more difficult than it should be? "I will let you off this time, Mr. Potter…" Severus warned. Still, the words, which were stated a matter-of-factly, bothered him immensely.

Harry bit back a sigh. "S-S-Sir… s-saying that I am not a f-freak… will be like saying a king is not a king," he said softly. Then he flinched again, the words _no talking back _resounding in his head. "S-Sorry. Sorry, sir," he whispered repeatedly. "I'm sorry."

Professor Snape eyed the boy thoughtfully. No wonder he was sorted into Slytherin; Severus had to admit, even though the clues were really faint, that _was_ clever answer. The only problem was that the words were wrong, negative. "What makes you think you are a freak?"

"I do freaky things."

"Like what?"

"I turned my teacher's hair blue. I-I landed on top of the roof when… at school." Harry winced, as he almost revealed that Dudley and his gang were playing 'Harry chasing', a game he dreaded. He received a through thrashing after both of those incidents, and he undeniably deserved it.

"That's magic." Didn't Petunia explain that to Harry?

Magic was controlled. The things he did was uncontrollable, in other words, freaky. "No, it isn't," Harry protested, before regretting his objection. _No talking back. _"S-Sorry, s-sir, s-sorry, s-sir. I-It won't happen again, I-I swear." The professor was nice, not hitting him once since they entered his office, but there was no telling if he would in the future.

Normally, Professor Snape would have rebuked a student from objecting, but he refrained from doing so with Potter. _Why?_ _Why am I giving Potter special treatment? _Sighing, Professor Snape rubbed his temples, his headache getting worse every second. "Well, rest assure you, you are not a freak. You are dismissed." Professor Snape tiredly closed his eyes, trying to ignore the pain and his disturbing thoughts.

"S-Sir?" Harry timidly spoke up. He did not want to infuriate the professor, but… "Wh-Where do I-I go?"

Sighing, Professor Snape led Harry to his dormitory. Opening a door, he introduced sarcastically, "This is your room." Unlike all other houses, each student had their own small room, with their own desk. However, a bathroom was shared between two students.

"M-My room?" Harry repeated, his eyes shimmering with unshed tears. He never had his own room, only a cupboard, until he received his Hogwarts letter.

Why was this boy so amazed about a mere room? "Yes, your own room. Now, you will be sharing a bathroom with Draco Malfoy," Professor Snape explained wearily.

"Thank you," Harry whispered. "Thank you sir."

"You're welcome."

In his quarters, Professor Snape took out a bottle of wine, exhaustedly pouring himself a glass. Not wanting to overdrink, he stashed it in his cupboard and locked it, sighing. Taking a sip, relief washed over him as his thoughts wandered back to Potter. He was too shy, he _acted_ like he was afraid of Professor Snape, and he _thanked _Professor Snape for his room. There was, indeed something, very wrong here.

Professor Snape's blood ran cold with sudden understanding. His glass, still in his hand, clanked on the table. One thought ran perturbingly in his mind.

Harry Potter, the Savior of the wizarding world, was acting just like he did when he was a child.

Harry Potter was abused.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Sorry for the late chapter! I was on break…**

**The reason why Snape did not immediately connect his childhood to Harry's was because everything was going really fast, and it had already been about twenty years since he was abused. Are those reasons sufficient?**

**Please review politely!**


	6. Chapter 6

**Similarities by EnchantedUnicorn**

**Chapter 6**

* * *

><p><strong>Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.<strong>

"Lemon drops. Gobstoppers. Lollipops. Gumdrops…" Professor Snape growled, starting to lose his patience. "Just open up, you damn thing!"

"Is there a problem, Severus?" an amused voice behind him said.

Professor Snape spun on his heel angrily. Insufferable old coot. Ever since he applied for the vacant Potions professor and Head of Slytherin positions, the headmaster was more partial to him, but never the less still intolerable. "Headmaster," he greeted. "I have a matter I need to discuss with you."

"And what might that be?" Albus questioned, his azure eyes shining was humor. The Potions Master only came to him for one reason: his students. Behind the cold, Slytherin mask, there laid care for all his students, Slytherin or not.

Professor Snape merely glowered at the headmaster, disturbed by the incessant twinkle in his eyes. "Inside," he said, gritting his teeth with irritation. Meddling old coot, not doing anything important to the wizarding world, sitting in his office, twiddling his thumbs.

"Of course," Albus smiled genuinely. Turning to the gargoyle, he stated cheerfully, "Nerds!"

The gargoyle smirked, and stepped aside, where a staircase soon magically appeared. Professor Snape stared at Albus with incredulity. Nerds? Was the headmaster trying to insult the Ravenclaws? "What in Merlin's name is _Nerds_, Albus?" he scoffed, leisurely walking up the stair with long strides.

Albus hurried to keep up with the Potions Master. "Why, a type of Muggle candy, Severus," he explained joyously, knowing what Professor Snape had interpreted the password to be.

Professor Snape rolled his eyes. "I don't know what's up with meddling old coots and sweets," he muttered under his breath. This was no joking matter, Professor Snape had no doubt that Albus did not once even check on Potter while he was in the Dursley's care. Too irresponsible.

"Lemon drop?" Albus inquired obliviously once they entered his office. Professor Snape had never accepted his sweets even once, but never the less, it was worth a try.

"No!" Professor Snape said, raising his voice. Still worried about sweets, not about his headmaster duties. Thank Merlin Potter was sorted into Slytherin, he would have more say in matters concerning the boy. "I believe I have something to discuss with you," he replied politely, his eyes dancing merrily. Severus was too straight-forward, he thought, couldn't he at least have a bit of _fun?_ There was no need to be so professional at times.

"It's about one of my Slytherins. I believe he has been abused," Professor Snape said, wincing as he thought about how rarely those words came out of his mouth. Potter was one very special case. Even Death Eater children were not abused by their parents, only punished brutally by Lord Voldemort.

"Who is it?" came the distracted reply. The moment the headmaster had heard the word 'Slytherins', he had become disinterested.

"Mr. Potter."

Surprise masked Albus's face, before it disappeared, and was replaced with a grave look. Yes, Harry Potter was the Chosen One, but he was in _Slytherin_, the house of evil. Even if he was abused, it would be nothing compared to what he would face later on. Or so Albus thought. "He must stay there," he stated firmly.

Professor Snape glared furiously at the older man before him. He did not care a _damn _about Potter, did he? And all because the boy was in Slytherin. How could he? Did he want to give up all hope for the light? Tom Riddle was neglected in his childhood, how did that end up? And quite possibly, if Mr. Evans –may his soul rest in peace –did not adopt him before Hogwarts, he would have turned to the dark side too. Abused people _longed _for a place to be accepted. He knew that from experience. "_Why, _Albus?" he hissed.

"He must learn to be tough. He must not be influenced by his house," Albus replied.

Professor Snape's blood began to boil dangerously, and he banged his fist on the table. How dare he?! "The boy," he spat out, "is never going to be 'influenced by his house'. I will bring you Mr. Potter tomorrow, and let's see how _that _turns out_. Good _day, _headmaster._" Enraged, he spun on his heel and walked away with confident steps.

* * *

><p>The next morning, Harry was chatting with Draco, or rather Draco was chatting with Harry, when cries erupted in the Great Hall. Out of the corner of his eye, Harry spotted hundreds of owls flying into the Great Hall, each carrying an individual letter. "Draco!" Harry exclaimed, gasping at the breathtaking sight. Sure, his familiar, Hedwig, was an owl, but he had never seen so many before…<p>

Draco did not see anything that amazing, but knew and understood the fact that Harry was raised by Muggles. His friend was unusually shy and scared by too many things, such as Professor Snape, who was supposed to protect them. For the sake of Harry, Draco played along with the act. "So many, right? I wonder what they are holding." The truth was, he did know what the owls were delivering –their timetables.

Swiftly, a letter landed into Harry's lap, and another into Draco's. Harry gently picked up the envelope, his fingers tracing over the fine parchment. "It has the Hogwarts seal," Harry marveled quietly. It reminded him of the day tens of hundreds of Hogwarts letters invaded his house, resulting in a severe beating for him.

Draco raised an eyebrow at the flash of emotions –wonder, wistfulness, and disturbance –appearing in Harry's emerald orbs. Why the disturbance, though? Harry was awed by the simplest of the simplest, and shocked by the most normal situations. But why again? To Harry, Draco suggested as kindly as he could, "Yes, it does. Now why don't you open it?"

Harry nodded, and with shaky hands, he slowly began picking on the seal. He was going to be as careful and delicate as possible, for it would do no good such a valuable envelope was given to a freak like him and then destroyed. "Oh, for Merlin's sake, Harry," Draco said exasperatedly, snatching the envelope out of the surprised Harry's hand and effortlessly tearing it open. At Harry's hurt look, he sighed apologetically and carefully retrieved the parchment inside out of its pocket, before muttering a _Reparo _to the envelope. Holding out both the parchment and the packet, he looked at his friend expectantly.

Harry smiled softly, and accepted both back. "Thank you, Draco," he whispered, inspecting the unspoiled envelope. Sliding it in his book bag and ensuring that it was safe there, he unfolded the parchment, before staring at it in puzzlement.

Draco now tore his envelope open, not bothering to repair it after he took out his paper. His manor had plenty of envelopes, even more expensive than the ones that Hogwarts had. If there was anything he liked to collect, it would be chocolate frog cards. "It's your timetable," Draco explained gently, jabbing his elbow purposely into whoever was snickering beside him.

"Chill, Malfoy," the person said.

Harry did not seem to notice all this commotion as he flushed, scolding himself for not seeing all the times, the days of the week, and the different subjects. "Oh," was all he could manage. Harry risked a glance at Draco's timetable, wondering, and hoping, that it was the same as his.

Draco spotted Harry looking at his parchment, and pushed it forward. He would do anything to open his friend up a bit more. "Let's if our schedules are identical," he advised meaninglessly, knowing Harry had already thought of that.

Their eyes darted from one timetable to another, before Draco proudly acclaimed, "There the same." He was satisfied with that, despite his father being a loyal follower of the Dark Lord, whom Harry killed, because Draco knew that Harry needed him. Thinking of his father, Draco guessed that he would probably be murderous when he discovered that his son was the best friend of the Boy-who-lived.

Harry smiled again, a real smile. He was glad to have Draco as a friend, for it would do no good if he were stuck with some arrogant Gryffindors or Slytherins who treated him like dirt, just like Dudley and his cronies did. And, he always did poorly at primary school, why should Hogwarts be any different? By any chance, Draco might be willing to help him.

Draco observed Harry closely, millions of thoughts flashing in his head. The boy was really too sensitive, Draco realized. He needed to talk to Professor Snape about him.

* * *

><p>The Potions Master a certain Slytherin had been pondering over inwardly groaned in the dungeons. Potions with the Slytherins and Gryffindors. Unlike the lions, his Slytherins at least showed <em>some<em> concentration in his class. But with the Gryffindors, there was no telling what could happen. He never excelled Divination, anyway.

He had always tried to treat all houses equally, knowing that was the right thing from his personal experiences. But sometimes, he could not help but favor the Slytherins, because of how prejudiced they were by other houses. The scale had to be balanced, and the only way that could happen was when he was in charge.

Students started to trickle in the classroom, each eying the Potions Master warily, although there was really nothing to fear from him. He would never intentionally raise a hand to a student. Not after the abuse he went through. Furthermore, the only reason he was strict to his students was that he was concerned of their safety. Not that he was going to admit that. His Slytherin pride was too pronounced for that.

A minute after class started, Harry came stumbling in the classroom, his bag clutched tightly in his hand. "S-Sir. A-Am I late?" he asked anxiously. His pathetic ankle had sprained when he was walking down the stairs to the dungeons, doubling the time it took to get to the Potions classroom. He was late for the first class of the first day of his first year. No one else has probably achieved that.

Professor Snape didn't miss how Harry was particularly favoring his left leg, which was most likely the reason why he was tardy. Malnourishment, which he suspected, often led to a weaker figure. "As matter of fact, you are," he answered, raising his eyebrows at how the boy tensed and looked down at his feet. It reminded him of a particular position he was in during his early childhood.

"No excuses?" he inquired silkily. Unfortunately, if the boy truly was mistreated, he would have been forced to learn that. And the Potions Master knew all too well how unpleasant that was. Inharmoniously, at the wrong place at the wrong time, he felt himself being drawn into a flashback.

_"Boy! Why are you late?" Tobias demanded authoritatively._

_Severus flinched, ducking his head nervously and clinging onto his bag behind his back. He had found some money on the floor, and, not having eaten for three days already, wanted to buy something. Looking around in the store for something affordable had taken enough time, not to mention the short duration he spent eating. He had walked home with some saved parcels, hoping that he was going to be able to slip past his father. That was not the case, though. "I-I was eaten, sir," he stammered._

_Tobias slapped his son on the face, leaving a livid handprint. "No excuses! I told you that before!" he raged. What a worthless freak, Tobias thought, thinking he could disobey an elder's command._

_Severus cowered back to the wall, turning his face to avoid being hit again. He had almost raised his hands to protect his face, but then remembered about his food and decided it against it. Wisely, he kept his mouth shut, before saying, "Y-Yes, sir." It had suddenly hit him that his father had never told him 'no excuses' before, not since his earliest memories. _

_His father's eyes narrowed suspiciously. "What's in your hands?" he snarled threateningly. Severus, knowing he was in for it, did not reply. "Answer me, boy!" he shouted, raising his hand and shoving the boy while he recoiled. Unwillingly, Severus held out his hands and the bag out in front of him. _

_Tobias glared at Severus dangerously, a glare that even would scare the most strongest of beings. "Been stealing again, huh, boy?" he hissed. "That money was not yours, was it?"_

_Severus winced, knowing how true the words were. How could he have taken a money like a thief? "S-S-Sir," he pleaded for leniency, dropping down to his knees. "Th-The m-money was o-on the gr-ground. I-I-I f-found it," he whispered weakly. Though inside, he knew thathe stole it._

_"No excuses!" And then his beating started._

"S-Sir?" Harry repeated again, looking at his professor worriedly. Why wasn't he responding? The man was just staring at him blankly with a lost, forlorn look. Was Professor Snape having a flashback, just like he himself often did?

Professor Snape snapped out of his memory, slightly flushing. After twenty years, he still had flashbacks? He could have had better control over himself and prevented that, Professor Snape silently cursed. Trying to forget about the tint of red to his cheeks, he answered swiftly, "Yes, Mr. Potter?"

Harry's eyes widened as the professor responded. Gradually, he felt his fears returning to him. "No-No, sir, no excuses," he hastily answered. His uncle had always told him _no excuses, no talking back_ and the words still rang profoundly in his head.

Recalling his previous question and what triggered his flashback, he nodded curtly. "Very well, take a seat. And a point from Slytherin." Were the boy in any other house, he would have deducted more points, but he had decided that it was a minor infraction and later throughout the school year, enough points would be taken away from Slytherin.

Ignoring all the stares heading towards him, Harry limped to the back of the room, his eyes scanning for a familiar blond head. Relieved that there was a free spot beside Draco, Harry quickly sat down. Draco had probably saved this seat just for him, for it seemed like there was no other free space. Murmuring a thank you, he could not help but be grateful of such a great friend.

"You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potion-making," he began quietly, making sure his speech had a lasting effect on the class. He knew, that by showing them he was a strict instructor, he would prevent more accidents from happening. "As there is little foolish wand-waving here, many of you will hardly believe this is magic. I don't expect you will really understand the beauty of the softly simmering cauldron with its shimmering fumes, the delicate power of liquids that creep through human veins, bewitching the mind, ensnaring the senses... I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, even stopper death –if you learn to obey me at every turn." He sent a glower at the class, daring anyone to say something back.

The moment Professor Snape had started his speech, Harry had taken his pencil and notebook out, jotting down every single word the professor said with a messy scrawl. It was a beautiful, meaningful speech, one that had a lot of power behind it. When the speech finished, he heard Professor Snape call his name. Instantly, his head shot up. What had he done wrong now? Was he not supposed to use a pencil and notebook? "S-Sir?"

The man raised an eyebrow at Harry. Supposedly, the boy was taking notes, but there was a chance that he was doodling. Inattention was something he never tolerated, for Potions was too risky. "What, may I ask, are you doing?" he sneered.

With wide eyes, Harry frantically tried to think of a reason why what he doing was wrong. "S-Sir, I-I am taking notes," he answered honestly. Then, with sudden realization, his heart clenched with dread. He was not allowed to take notes! He was supposed to look at the professor's movements to feel the emphasis. Automatically, he apologized. "I-I'm s-sorry, s-sir!"

Professor Snape sighed as he gazed into the truthful, emerald eyes. Why was the boy apologizing, having done nothing wrong? He strode across the room and paced for a few moments, before saying suddenly, "Mr. Potter! What would I get if I added powered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?" He did not expect Potter to reply, after all the answer was in the later chapters of the book.

Harry did know the answer. In his cupboard every night, he would read and reread the chapters of each book, under his dim lightbulb. Potions was remarkably similar to cooking, which was why it had caught his interest. He had read it in all four times. "D-D-Draught o-of Living Death, sir," he answered swiftly. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Hermione's hand raised, and inwardly smiled. Why was she not sorted into Ravenclaw?

The Potions Master's eyebrows shot up with surprise. Ignoring a bushy Gryffindor girl's quivering hand, he asked again, "Where would you look if I told you to find me a bezoar, Mr. Potter?" Relatively, that was easy to remember.

Harry's eyes flickered hesitantly to Hermione, who had her hand raised even higher than before. Should he let her answer? Finally deciding that it would probably be the last time his professor would question him, he responded reluctantly, "Th-The… stomach of a goat, s-sir."

Professor Snape nodded with approval. "Very good," he praised. "Now, what is the difference between monkshood and Wolfsbane?" He was truly shocked that the boy managed to answer these two questions, something few of his other first-year students had managed to achieve. The boy did have many Slytherin traits, ambition which stood out sharply.

For Harry, he could not take anymore. He was not used to being the center of the attention, and certainly not being asked three questions in a row by a professor. In primary school, he did poorly, and most teachers merely ignored him. Seeing Hermione shoot up in her seat with her hand raised towards the dungeon ceiling, he shyly suggested, "Wh-Why d-don't you ask Hermione, s-sir?" Tensing, he waited for the inevitable lecture to start.

Professor Snape raised an eyebrow again at the unexpected audacity of the boy. He knew that Potter was uncomfortable with being targeted, and wanted the attention to away. But the boy must learn he must not question his authority. "You do not know? And kindly sit down, Ms. Granger." He watched satisfactorily as the girl huffed and obeyed.

Harry bit his lip, but not wanting to disappoint his professor, he felt compelled to answer. Professor Snape had been so nice to him so far, only taking a point when he was late for class. Looking at Hermione with a remorseful glance, he replied emotionlessly, "Th-There the same, professor. A-And they also go by the name aconite."

The professor felt something beam inside of him, and frowned. Was that how it felt to be proud of someone? The boy, raised by Muggles, had managed to answer all of the questions. As if he _cared _about Potions. Perhaps, if he had the same willpower to brew and survive throughout four school years, he might take him in as an apprentice. But it was too early to decide. For now… "Very good, Mr. Potter. Ten points to Slytherin. Well? Why aren't you all copying this down?"

There was a rummaging for quills and parchment as Harry smiled to himself. His head of house had said that he was proud of him, a freak! No one else, not since he could remember, had said that. And more than that, he had gotten all the points –which was only one –he had lost back! This was turning out to be a good day indeed.

"Now," Professor Snape instructed, "we will be brewing a cure for boils. The directions are on the board. You may begin."

Harry, squinting his eyes, managed to read the first step: partner up. Looking at Draco hopefully, he was relieved when he nodded. "I'll go get the ingredients," he said, taking charge. "You can prepare." Harry nodded, more used to being told what to do than telling others what to do. Taking out his cauldron, scale, and different knives as Draco gathered the ingredients, Harry waited patiently for his return.

Once he did, they set to work. Harry cut, chopped, diced, crushed, etc. the ingredients, while Draco put them in the cauldron and controlled the temperature. Harry, having much experience, was able to block out all the sounds around him, and Draco, seeing how focused his friend was, tried to do so too. Before they knew it, they were done.

Professor Snape roamed around the room, occasionally criticizing or complimenting. "More horned slugs, Mr. Finnigan," or "Well done, Ms. Granger. Now stir your cauldron." The girl reminded him of Lily, who, even though being born in the Muggle world, was always bright and eager to learn about magic.

When he got to Mr. Potter and Mr. Malfoy, however, he was surprised to see how gracefully they worked, Mr. Potter particularly. When dicing ingredients, he did so which such speed and accuracy that Professor Snape had to admit was the best he had ever seen. And the way Mr. Malfoy put the well-crushed ingredients with exact timing was amazing, also. Never before had he seen his students brew so cooperatively. Perhaps Mr. Potter, and possibly Mr. Malfoy, were Potions prodigies.

"Stop," Professor Snape declared abruptly. "Bottle your potions." Students obediently scuttled, with a disappointed look on their face, to put their failed potion in the vial.

Harry and Draco smiled to each other as the bottled up theirs. It was perfect, Harry could not help but think. But he only prepared the ingredients. It was Draco who did all the hard work. "Bring the vial to Professor Snape," Draco directed gently, "and I'll clean up."

Harry nodded with agreement, and acquiesced. Walking to the front nervously, he was about to place his potion on the table when someone shoved him. He felt himself bumped into something, and looked up frightfully into the dark, onyx eyes of Professor Snape that burned angrily with such intensity that he flinched. Hastily, he put the vial on the desk and escaped from the man's fury.

How dare the Weasley boy shove one of his snakes, Professor Snape fumed. He was going to have to talk to Professor McGonagall about him. Watching as H– Mr. Potter literally ran away from him, his rage only increased. "Fifteen points from Gryffindor, Mr. Weasley," he snarled. His voice softening ever so slightly, he added, "And Mr. Potter. Meet me at my office at seven sharp."

Harry's eyes widened. It was _Ron _who pushed him? No, it couldn't be. Ron was his friend; Professor Snape must have taken points because of a bad potion or so. The uneasy sinking feeling in his stomach only increased as Professor Snape addressed his next statement to him. Despite the fact that the professor did not say it was a detention, he knew it was. A freak should never touch a better, normal person, and he, a freak, had just did. Facing the consequences, knowing it could not be worse that his uncle's, he replied evenly, "Yes, sir."

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><p><strong>AN: Oh my goodness! Finally a new chapter! Sorry for the delay, I completely lost my 3600+ word first draft of this chapter, so I had to restart it all over again. **

**The flashback was added upon request. :P**

**Happy 2015! Please review, positive reviews make my day, constructive criticism is appreciated.**


	7. Chapter 7

**Similarities by EnchantedUnicorn**

**Chapter 7**

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><p><strong>Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.<strong>

Breathing deeply to stop the panic from arising in his throat, Harry mustered the courage to know one the stone door three times. He wondered what the professor would do to him. Make him write lines, chores, or… or maybe beat him. Harry shuddered violently at the thought.

Just then, the door slid open, revealing the same office he had seen the previous day. And the wooden chair… that through all the trouble was conjured for him. "Come in," came Professor Snape's low voice. The boy was on time, exactly on time, Professor Snape noted. It seemed like, after all, he had more traits of Lily than his father.

Harry hobbled forward, eying his head of house with fear. Professor Snape stared at Harry searchingly, observing his stiff, body posture, his emotionless face but afraid eyes, and clenched hands. "Sit," he gestured as kindly as he could, sighing when the boy flinched and hastened to obey.

Professor Snape looked at Harry for a few more minutes. There were faint bruises on his neck, which were expertly hidden by the boy's clothing. And a long scar traced from the boy's cheekbone to his ear. Petunia would never have done that. She knew how horrible abuse was, having helped a poor boy in rags several times during his childhood. But then surely his uncle wouldn't have either? Petunia would not have _allowed _that, either. Apparently, it was not making much sense. He needed to get more information out of the boy, he mused, plunging deeper into his thoughts.

Harry squirmed queasily under the man's stone gaze, his eyes kept downcast on his lap. This was some new kind of torture, he realized, and probably a common type of discipline in the wizarding world. Hogwarts professors made you _wait _for your punishment. Uncle Vernon just got it over with, which was much better. Thinking of the dark, looming face of his uncle, his belt in hand, ready to take it on his nephew, Harry bit his lip. Not able to resist the temptation of asking the question that hand been bothering him since the day he arrived, he stammered, "S-Sir? M-May I ask you a question?" He waited nervously, hoping that Professor Snape wouldn't get angry.

The man snapped out his thoughts, his gazed immediately hardening as he returned back to reality. Focusing on the anxious look of his student, he carefully pointed out with obviousness in his voice, "You just did." Slowly placing his head in his hands and rubbing his temples, applying a soft but firm pressure, he felt the pounding headache gradually diminish. "You may."

Harry cursed at his own stupidity. He could not do anything correctly, could he? It would not be a shock to him if the answer to his question was a yes. "S-Sir?" he questioned timidly, wringing his hands. "A-Are teachers permitted to hit students?"

The question struck Professor Snape as a blow, as his pleas from twenty years ago resonated in his head. _S-Sir, p-please d-don't… … err… hit me. _He had too wondered the same thing in his first year of Hogwarts. Until Professor McGonagall reassured him that generally, it was not. Words wildly forming in Professor Snape's head, he explained with great caution. "No. Not under normal conditions."

Harry let out a breath he had not known he had been holding. What a relief, finally free from the beatings and pain. But Professor Snape was not quite finished yet, as he continued, "However, exceptions can be made. One, if a professor is a student's guardian, and two, if the crime committed was very serious. The second exception only can be made with the miscreant's guardian's consent."

Harry's heart raced, as he resolved to never get into trouble. He did not know what a 'serious crime' was at Hogwarts. But for Uncle Vernon, a 'serious crime' was burning the bacon, not finishing his chores, hitting Dudley, or insolence. If he did something wrong and Uncle Vernon knew, the man wouldn't hesitate to consent to his thrashing, and then when he returned home, deal out another one. "Y-Yes, sir," he acknowledged.

"Very good. Now perhaps tell me, what makes you concerned about that?" inquired Professor Snape, easing into the topic.

Harry paled at once. The professor suspected something! He was dead, from Uncle Vernon to hell. He had told Mr. Carter, his first grade teacher, once that one of his bruises on his chin was made by his uncle. And his uncle found out. He never told again. "N-Nothing, s-sir," he assured the professor. He knew how to lie, he lied to all his previous teachers.

"Are you certain?" said the Potions Master in a disbelieving tone. He was not about to be tricked, for he had deceived others the same way when he was a child.

Harry nodded, his nervousness increasing rapidly. " _Yes_, sir," he insisted firmly, hiding the slight tremor in his voice. Then he cowered back. _No defiance. _Insubordination always warranted punishment. "I-I am sorry, s-sir," he apologized softly, his voice barely more than a whisper.

Professor Snape sighed once again, now squeezing the bridge of his crooked nose tightly. The boy had Lily's stubbornness, he could see. He had to help the boy, the only hope of his lost, beloved one left. With a sudden movement, he stood and straightened, resulting in Harry shrinking back to his chair. Halfheartedly trying to ignore the reflexive reaction, he informed the terrified boy, "We are going to see the headmaster."

Harry's frame went rigid as he shot up to his feet once. With every word, he insentiently took a step closer to the wall. "P-Please, s-sir, I-I'll… I'll tell you anything you want! P-Please not the headmaster," he pleaded. He was going to get expelled, because he of his unruly mutiny. No, not after all his hope of escaping of his so-called home. His uncle would laugh and jeer at him, mocking him for being such a freak that even his _freakish _kind would not accept him. And then Dudley would jump in and beat him with the Smeltings stick he was so proud of. No, that was unthinkable. "Please," he repeated inaudibly and unobtrusively, as if a saint or god would answer his prayer.

Professor Snape eyed Harry with a slight concern, before beginning to lead him to the headmaster's office. It was a good opportunity, he thought, to gain information out of the boy. "It would be nice," he said, "if you could tell us how your guardians punish you. For example, if you disrespect them."

Harry had to practically skip to keep up with the lanky man. His face as white as sheet, he debated over whether he should tell or not. Was it better to not get expelled, or to get a thorough beating? Of course, he would prefer the latter. Deciding upon his choice, he quietly admitted, "I-If I-I'm lucky, h-he will only slap me once or twice, and l-lock me up for a few hours." Holding his breath, he waited.

Resentment flashed in the Slytherin head of house's eyes at the 'he', who was clearly Harry's uncle. What sort of beast did that to a child? That sounded just like his father, and he knew that it was more severe than it actually sounded. "And if you weren't lucky?" he growled.

Harry stiffened, apparently uncomfortable at the question. After a few moments of silence, he looked down at the ground, knowing he had to answer the question. Parting his sealed mouth, he whispered, "H-He'd b-beat me and lock me up for a f-few days or so."

"Lock you up where?" Professor Snape pressed, his voice acrimonious at the disgust he was feeling. Lowering his speed, he allowed the boy's pace return to normal before answering. That was most likely how the agents felt when they investigated his house, and how Mr. Evans felt when he adopted him.

Harry slowed down, his legs swinging slightly with relaxation under him. An image of his dark, gloomy cupboard appeared in his eyes; he blinked it away, not intending to reminisce all his experiences from the Dursleys. But while his cupboard was the scope someone like him should live and suffer in, he could not help but be consoled, and feel safe in it. No one could reach him in there, not even Dudley. It was no wonder he was so abnormal, _liking _his punishments. "M-My cupboard, sir," he replied, his voice delicate and frail.

"Your cupboard?" hissed the professor, his blood effervescing and steaming inside of him. "Your cupboard?!" The Potions Master's solid, obsidian eyes burned abysmal holes into the scrawny boy beside him. The illogicality of it all –who would put a mere child in a cupboard, for a few hours nonetheless?! And the Harry had evidently stated 'my' –was that his only room?

Harry found himself taking a few steps away from Professor Snape at the menacing look directed towards him. "Y-Yes, sir, m-my cupboard," he said. Meeting the furious, black eyes of his head of house, he noticed pure rage… and something else. What was that outlandish look in those glistening onyxes? Was it _protectiveness_? Did his professor _care _about _him_?

Professor Snape bit back any indecent remarks as he grumbled in a hopeful voice, "What do your relatives make you _do_?" Under the sleeves of his robes, he crossed his fingers, hoping that the uncle was civil enough to not have dealt out the worst possible kind of abuse –sexual abuse. His father had never, and still it was ruthless enough.

Harry shrugged, swallowing down a yelp of pain and gritting his teeth when his shoulders exploded with pain. He wished that Uncle Vernon never had given him that beating the day before Hogwarts –it would have reduced the chance of anyone seeing or discovering anything. Knowing that his professor was expecting a response, he faintly listed, "Ch-Ch-Chores, sir. C-Cooking… cleaning, weeding, d-dusting, the laundry–"

He was abruptly cut off by Professor Snape, who when straining his ears was able to hear almost everything. In a strangled voice, he said, "Enough, H- Mr. Potter. I am going to discuss this with the headmaster." Those were no living conditions anyone should grow up in, particularly someone as gifted as Harry. Merlin, but the end of cruelty the boy received was even worse than his own. And it was an inquisitive thing about why he was suddenly so concerned about the son of James Potter… and Lily.

Harry blanched, knowing that the headmaster was never a good thing. After all he had revealed, it had been futile. At a loss for words, he kept his silence heavenly and meekly followed the professor, trotting along. They reached a strange-looking stone sculpture. "Nerds," said Professor Snape, smirking at the flabbergasted expression on Harry's face.

Harry watched in awe when the gargoyle stepped aside, and a glistening, quartz staircase spiraled upwards. Oh, the grandeur of Hogwarts. "S-S-Sir?" he stuttered. "N-Nerds?" Nerds, he knew, was a muggle candy. Why on Earth would the headmaster of a _wizarding _and _witchcraft _school know that, much less use it as the password for his _quarters _and _office_? Or was the headmaster trying to insult the Ravenclaws? The sinking put in his stomach only deepened as he pondered over these issues.

"Yes, Nerds. The muggle sweet." Both sighing, they entered this unusually bright office. Harry was greeted by the old man with a long, snow-white beard he saw at the Opening Feast. "Harry, my boy," came the restful, yet cold, tone.

Harry inclined his head courteously, wincing at the bitterness the man's voice held. Was the headmaster –Headmaster Dumbledore –still displeased with him? "S-Sir," he returned monotonously, his voice somewhat cracking.

"Headmaster," Professor Snape cut through, noticing how the headmaster did not offer Harry a lemon drop like he typically did to all of his other favored students or professors. "I have… discovered that the intensity of Mr. Potter's abuse is rather high." He glared daggers at the elderly man as the words, one by one, flowed out of his mouth. And the headmaster still had the same, know-it-all look.

"I see," Dumbledore said, disbelieving the whole issue. Turning to Harry, he enquired silkily, "Do your aunt and uncle mistreat you, my boy?"

Harry's eyes fell on the ground, not knowing what to say. If he was normal, he would have probably considered it as abuse, but he was not normal, he was a freak… "I-I don't know, sir," he said, warily eying the man again. Was that the right answer? Professor Snape seemed furious, but the headmaster looked genuinely pleased.

"Mr. Potter," Professor Snape scowled, cursing at how manipulative the shrewd Gryffindor was. "How does your uncle punish you if you '_aren't_ lucky'?" He stared at the visibly trembling boy beside him expectantly.

Harry shook with fear, not understanding why they were interrogating him. His hand clutching his robe tightly, he stammered, "S-S-Sir… h-he would… h-he would b-beat me, and lock me up." At his professor's pointed look, he added quietly, "I-In my cupboard, sir." He suddenly had some hope –just a tiny bit –that he would finally be saved from the Dursleys.

"Your cupboard?" The twinkle in Dumbledore's eye faded.

Harry flinched. The headmaster definitely thought that the cupboard was too luxurious for him. "Y-Yes, s-sir, my cupboard," he repeated. "I-It was my room before I came to Hogwarts." His eyes darting anxiously around, they eventually locked with Professor Snape's stone eyes, hard with antagonism.

The Potions Master forebodingly hissed, his voice dripping with odium, "Albus…."

Carelessly, Dumbledore turned away from the professor and his student. The boy would stay there. It did not matter if he was righteously punished. After all, it already seemed like the Golden Child was an attention seeking brat, even making the snarky, Potions Master care for him so much. "I see." He popped another sherbet lemon into his mouth, sucking on it thoughtfully. "Harry," he started, spinning around again and glaring at Professor Snape, who had his mouth open to protest. The head of Slytherin smartly shut it. "You wouldn't mind to stay at the Dursleys during the summer breaks, until you are of age, would you? After all, every year it will not be more than few months," Dumbledore asked persuasively, his voice smooth and flawless.

Harry shook his head hastily, his hands dropping back to his sides with puzzlement. Of course he minded, but he knew that that was not the answer the headmaster was wanting. The headmaster had the ultimate authority. "I-I'll do anything y-you would like, H-Headmaster." Remembering Professor Snape, his head snapped up as added, "A-And y-you too, p-professor."

Dumbledore smiled with satisfaction, believing that even Professor Snape would follow his decisions, knowing that he was in power. Little did he really know that he was wrong. "I will be going, now," Professor Snape ground out, grasping Harry's shoulder, but then quickly loosening his grip when Harry winced. "My bad," he corrected himself. "_We_ will be going." Gently directing Harry towards the door, he was surprised to realize that he could feel almost every single bone under the thick layer of clothing. He inwardly vowed to get revenge on the Dursleys.

Harry found himself being steered out the door and back to the dungeons. His body posture tense, he allowed the professor to push him around, while still being prepared for any pain that was about to follow. Before he knew it, they were back in the professor's office.

"You do know," said the professor to Harry, "that it was Dumbledore who placed you with the Dursleys."

Harry's eyes widened. But the headmaster had been so nice to him! "S-Sir?" he spluttered, before recoiling. How could he have doubted a professor's word?

"Yes, it was him. And I deeply apologize I did not interfere. I had thought that Petunia would at least be decent with you…."

Professor Snape knew his aunt, Harry marveled. And why was he apologizing? No one should ever have to apologize to him. He probably made the professor feel bad, and that was why the adult was compelled to apologize. Hiding his face behind his messy bangs, Harry replied quietly, "N-No, s-sir, I-I'm s-sorry. A-Aunt Petunia was very nice to m-me, b-but only when U-Uncle V-Vernon w-was not around." It was true –when his uncle was not around, Aunt Petunia helped him do more than half of his chores, and also gave him extra parcels of food to store in his cupboard.

"I see," Professor Snape said, nodding. All of this did not make sense –Petunia was fine to Harry when his uncle was not around, but abusive when he was? He had to investigate soon. But for now, he needed to get Harry out of the grasps of the Dursleys and Dumbledore. But how? Who could do that? And who would know how to deal with abused children? The answer lied within him: himself, Severus Snape. His thoughts drifted to Lucius Malfoy, who had a lot of influence on the Ministry. "How would you like," he questioned gently, "to become my ward?" His stomach clenched painfully as he hoped his idea would not be denied. It was then when he realized that he wanted the boy, he _needed_ the boy.

Harry's eyes widened considerably. The professor wanted him? No, that could not be true; that must have been a trick question that was followed with 'freaks do not deserve such thing' or similar. "I-I do not know, sir," he whispered, biting his lip to keep tears from welling up in his eyes. No one had ever said those words to him, though Mr. Carter had once promised to 'get him out of there' once. His statement never did come true.

"The truth, please, Mr. Potter." When the boy did not move a muscle, he sighed and repeated in a forced voice, "Please, Mr. Potter."

Harry head snapped up as he muffled a cry. Tears in his eyes, he blinked them back and said in a shaky, barely audible voice, "Y-Y-You w-want me, s-sir?" Why didn't the man understand that he was a freak? He shouldn't have anyone to care for him, yet that was what Professor Snape was doing. Caring for _him_. Being cared for… felt strange, like he was in harmony, yet he felt more… welcome when being uncared for.

Professor Snape sighed, wondering how Mr. Evans had gone through that much trouble to bring him back to normal. And that many heart-breaking moments, also. "Yes, I want you," he said inflexibly, his eyes locking with Harry's emerald green ones.

Harry let out a sob as he ducked his head, backing into a corner and huddling up there. Once the tears were out, he couldn't stop them, no matter how hard tried. The professor surely would punish him then for soiling his floor. The thought only made him cry harder, as he bit on his tongue and dug his fingernails into his palms, as an attempt to silence himself. To his relief, it worked.

Looking up, Harry expected to see an enraged Potions Masters hovering over him, ready to give out a brutal scolding, but to Harry's surprise, the man was a few feet away, staring at him patiently. Harry hastened to stand, and dutifully bowing his head, he apologized with no emotion, "I-I'm sorry, s-sir." Tense, he braced himself to block any imminent blows.

The professor sighed again, recalling that he was often in the same position when he was young. In the most consoling voice he could manage, he coaxed, "Relax, Mr. Potter. Do… do you accept my offer?" He looked at the boy, almost optimistically.

Harry vigorously nodded with excitement, before calming down quickly. Ensuring that the professor was not infuriated at him with his sudden display of enthusiasm, he replied. "Y-Yes, sir, thank you, s-sir," he answered sincerely with gratitude.

Professor Snape let out a long breath as he slumped back onto his chair tiredly. That was a good thing… all he needed to do now was do get guardianship of the boy. "You are welcome, Mr. Potter. Now go to your dormitory, and a good night to you." The words poured freely out of his mouth, and he thought with a bizarre feeling in his heart that he must really be softening up.

All because of one, green-eyed boy.

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><p><strong>AN: This chapter may seem short, but it really is over 3500 words. Thank you to all my readers and reviewers! Just a reminder, this is my own universe, corporal punishment is allowed under certain circumstances.**

**Please review!**


	8. Chapter 8

**Similarities by EnchantedUnicorn**

**Chapter 8**

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><p><strong>Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.<strong>

"Lucius," Severus greeted coolly with a curt nod of his head. The blonde was sitting beside his desk, repeatedly checking boxes and signing his name on the high stack of parchments. He could easily relate to the Death Eater at that moment, for grading papers for him was as tedious, if not, even more.

"Ah, Severus," said Lucius, looking up and peering at Severus strangely. The other Slytherin rarely came to him, knowing that he _was_ a follower of the Dark Lord, unless in the most dire circumstances. "To what may I owe the pleasure of this visit?" he forced out in a proper voice.

Severus rolled his eyes exasperatedly. "No need for the formalities," he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "I need to know, first, though, if you are still loyal to Lord Voldemort."

Lucius winced at the name. "No, I'm not," he admitted quietly, gazing squarely into the obsidian eyes. "I fear for Draco and Narcissa's safety now." He was suddenly glad, very glad, that Severus was not a Death Eater, or else he would be killed the moment the Dark Lord returned.

Severus burrowed deep into the hazel eyes, seeing that there was nothing indicating fraud. "Very well. I need to get custody of Harry Potter," he told the other softly, images of Harry and his own childhood flashing in his mind.

The Ministry of Magic official could tell that the Potions Master's heart was very big for the boy. But that was instantaneously washed over as he realized that Severus was planning on gaining guardianship of the _Boy-who-lived_. "Why?" he hissed. Then he recalled that Harry Potter was in Slytherin. Was Draco friends with him? If so, he would not care, after all, he did not follow the Dark Lord anymore.

"The boy, I believe, is abused," Severus murmured.

Lucius's carefully manicured eyebrows shot up above hairline. The Golden Child, mistreated? "What? Abused?" he repeated disbelievingly.

"Yes. You can ask Draco. He's rather close to him," Severus suggested. "But I need to get custody without Fudge knowing." If the minister did in fact find out, Harry Potter would officially be the Ministry's ward. He suppressed a shudder at the thought of how the boy would be _used_. As an afterthought, he added, "Dumbledore too."

"I see. That shouldn't be a problem," Lucius nodded agreeably. "I shall give you the papers tomorrow morning."

Severus returned the gesture, relieved that his request would be granted. "Thank you, Lucius." The reply he received was a mere, friendly smile.

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><p>"Petunia, get the door!" a low voice boomed.<p>

The women then spoke, almost timidly. "Yes Vernon."

The door was opened to Severus, and he was met by a thin, average-heighted lady, presumably Petunia. With a rapid scan over Petunia's features, he deducted that while on the outside, she may have looked strict and stern, but in the inside, she was very soft, very delicate, and so on. "Tuny," he said politely. "Long time no see."

Petunia gasped at the sudden appearance of her childhood friend. Stepping back, she quickly said, "Severus! Please do come in! Why have you come?"

Severus almost, almost smiled at the enthusiasm of the women, as he stepped in the house. "I have come to discuss your nephew, Harry," he drawled slowly.

Petunia paled, but then tried to cover up her discomfort at the idea. "I see," she blurted. She cast a glance at the door to the kitchen, tensing as a big, obese man came through. "Vernon, this is Severus Snape, my childhood friend, and... adopted brother." She stopped there, not mentioning anything else.

"Is he… one of _them_?" Vernon scowled, almost threateningly to Severus's ears. He fixed his gaze at the unwelcome visitor and glowered at the tall, robed man dressed in black.

Petunia had opened her mouth to say something, but Severus cut through angrily. "If you mean if I am a _wizard_, then yes, I am," he spat, straightening to his full height and countering with his own glare, which was far more dominant than the uncle's.

"Get out! Get OUT! GET OUT OF MY HOUSE!" Vernon screeched, his face turning purple like a plum.

The head of house laughed harshly. "Why should I?" he sneered. "I have come here to discuss you nephew, Harry Potter, after all."

The other man stomped his foot. "What do you want to know about him?" the uncle demanded. "Apart from that he is a worthless freak."

Severus felt steam shoot out of his ears as he took a step forward, raising his fist. As if regaining his temper, he calmly stepped back and took out a vial of Veritaserum. "I just need both of you to take this…" he said soothingly, taking a step forward at every word. The couple found themselves inharmoniously backing into a wall. "Of course… it won't hurt you… it would not do well for me to go to Azkaban…" He then dripped a drop of the serum into each of their mouths, before waiting for it to take effect. He knew that Veritaserum, by the Ministry guidelines, was not allowed to be freely used, but this was a very serious case that could mean life for the Dursleys or death.

"What is your name?" he snapped at both of them.

"Petunia Dursley." "Vernon Dursley."

"Do you have a son?"

"Yes," replied Petunia.

"How does he treat your nephew?"

Vernon answered this one. "Plays 'Harry hunting' with his pals. The freak usually comes home with a broken bone or two."

Goodness. "And how do you, _Vernon_, treat your nephew?"

Vernon seemed to try to resist, before having to reply. "Beat him when I need to. Then lock him in his cupboard for a few days. Burn him. Starve him. Serves him right, the little whelp."

"And how do you treat your wife?"

"Hate her, the scum. She is my slave, to do my bidding. I would beat her to an inch of death, but I don't, because she gave me Dudley. So I just slap her around at the most."

Merlin. Petunia was domestically abused. "And how do you treat your son?"

"Love him like ever," said Vernon. "Give him whatever he wants, after all, he is ours, and we _wanted _him."

Spoilt brat. "Petunia," Severus growled, turning to the absolutely terrified wife. "How do you treat your nephew?"

She flinched and looked at Vernon worried. "I try to be nice to him," she spluttered. "I try to, but I have to obey Vernon. I give him food, and help him with his chores when Vernon isn't around. But when he is, I have to keep up with the act." She broke down into a quiet sob.

"I see. That is enough. You," Severus sneered at Vernon, "will have your hands tied behind you back soon, and don't even think about escaping. Petunia, you will be free of that bastard, I promise. As for your son, we will hand him over to the officers."

He spun on his heel and left, his eyes flashing with hatred.

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><p>Professor Snape paced around his office, waiting for a knock from Harry. The boy, ever since the previous day, was stuck in his mind. The flinching, how Harry had cried in the corner –the abuse seem too severe for just a scrawny little boy and it haunted his dreams. But that was how he was treated when he was a child, and he thought it was fine at first, his conscience told him. Professor Snape ignored it, knowing that his student's neglect was far worse than his own.<p>

And then Petunia was domestically abused. How did she live up to that, and tolerate her nephew being treated like _nothing_? Why did she not tell anyone? Seeing abuse is bad enough, seeing it twice and unwillingly being part of it was even worse. The poor women. Just like his mother.

_Knock, knock_. He immediately snapped out of his thoughts and waved his wand at the door, satisfied as a small figure emerged. "S-Sir? Y-You called me?" the boy said with a slight impediment.

Harry wringed his hands nervously as he stared at the man's feet with growing anticipation. He was being called to the professor's office every day, was he not? Perhaps the professor called him to make him his ward… no, he most possibly changed his mind and wanted to take back his offer of gaining guardianship of a whelp like him.

Professor Snape, again noticing the obvious fear of the child, lazily summoned the custody papers with a wave of his hand. "The guardianship papers," he said, thrusting the pile and an elegant blood quill to Harry. "Sign your name where required."

Harry accepted the papers, his heart in his throat. His number one wish –to be rescued from the Dursleys –was coming true! It was quite implausible, so much that he began wondering if it was a fraud. Was it all a lie? No, it couldn't be, Professor Snape surely wouldn't fib about anything so serious, would he?

Harry's eyes scanned over the paper, and he met the line where his signature was required. How did Mr. Carter's signature look like again? Harry gulped anxiously as he realized he did not know how to use a quill properly, much less sign his name using a _pencil._ He bit his lip and inquired frightfully to the professor he hoped would be lenient, "S-Sir?"

Professor Snape was dazed to see that the normally so obedient boy was not getting on with his work, and in fact, was reluctant. Did he not know that all the trouble his head of house was going through was for _him_? Brushing his thoughts away, he replied calmly, "Yes?"

Harry dragged his feet on the ground as he wildly formed words in his head. "S-Sir," he started. "I-I mean… s-sir… I-I don't know how to u-use a q-quill, o-or sign m-my n-name…" He trailed off with his voice in barely more than a whisper as his eyes flickered hesitantly to the thoughtful professor.

Professor Snape's eyebrows shot up with surprise, before he nodded in consideration. "I see," he said distractedly. Though there very few Muggle-raised or Muggleborn students in his house, most of them knew how to use a quill. He had not tutored a student on that in a very long time. "Well, the quill is ready for your use. Use it as you would for a pen, and tilt it at a slight angle. But beware, this is a blood quill. It extracts from your blood and uses it as ink, therefore binding you to this agreement." At the boy's flabbergasted and horrified look, he scowled sourly, "There really is nothing to fear."

Harry gulped, not at the least assured. Will it cut open his hand and take blood then? He shivered –there was no way that was going to happen. Although he had seen his own blood plenty of times, he had never _written _with it, and did not know what or how to do it. "S-Sir?" he asked, wishing to get more information.

The obvious scare shown on Harry's face made Professor Snape sigh exasperatedly, as he pointed to his red signature on the parchment. "I signed this using a blood quill," he stated truthfully. Then he showed the boy his unblemished hands, saved a few scars from brewing or his childhood, and flipped them around.

Harry flushed at the man's demonstration as he held the quill, ready to sign his name. Why did he fear that? He had much worse at the Dursleys. Scribbling his name on the line, which he figured he was supposed to do, he noticed that he only felt a very faint pressure on his right hand, but nothing more. He handed the papers back and inspected his almost flawless hands. "Sorry, s-sir," he said quietly, ashamed at himself. _Good for nothing freak! _

"No harm done, Mr. Potter," Professor Snape assured the boy. Using a blood quill for the first time was indeed an uneasy experience, he knew. But the blood quill Harry had used –it was not a punishment blood quill, but rather a binding one. One may be comforted that their hands would not be hurt in anyway.

"Well now, you are officially my ward, Harry Potter," Professor Snape declared suddenly, his lips twitching somewhat. He felt his heart swell with pride as he realized what a good deed he had done to the poor boy. "Hogwarts will add a new room to my quarters."

Harry's eyes pricked with tears as he looked up at the professor. A feeling he had never felt before shone on his face, as he realized it was happiness and relief. Then it disappeared, almost instantly. "Why do you _care_?" he said. "Why, sir, for a freak like me?"

Professor Snape sighed again, as the words he heard penetrated through his cold mask and almost reached his heart. He dropped down into his chair, and gestured wearily, "Sit."

Harry hastily obeyed, and for a moment he thought that he had done something wrong. "Y-Yes, sir?" A thought suddenly struck him, that because he was a professor's ward, the professor could deal out a beating to him. Was that what going to happen? Stiffening, Harry waited for waited for further instructions.

"My father," Professor Snape sighed, "was not a nice man." Harry gaped –did the professor's father hate the professor, just like his uncle hated him? "He was much like your uncle," the man confirmed his student's thoughts. "And my mother was much like you aunt."

Harry just looked up blankly, confused. "S-Sir?"

"My father called me… a freak, too. He beat me, but it not as severe as you were beaten," Professor Snape shared, the words pouring out of his mouth without resistance. Why was he telling the young boy about his past? It was not something he liked to remember. But at the same time, he knew comparing their childhoods would bond them closer together.

Harry felt very, very sad for the Potions Master that someone as great as him was mistreated. Why? By all means, his professor was not a freak. "I-I-I'm sorry, s-sir," he felt compelled to apologize, not at all thinking about himself.

"Don't be," Professor Snape said. "My mother sometimes tried to help me, like your aunt did. Don't you see, we are very much alike?"

Harry nodded with realization, frowning too. "S-Sir… why?"

"Why what?"

"Why do you _care_?" he repeated.

Professor Snape sighed again, as he looked straight into the boy's eyes. _Lily_. "Your mother… was my childhood friend. She knew how my father treated me. Lily's father, your grandfather, may his soul rest in peace, decided to adopt me. I am her adopted brother," he added as he saw Harry's shocked look. "Yes, your grandfather and Lily had done me a very great deed, for which I am grateful for. Therefore, I am logically speaking your uncle, and… I care for you very much." He finished off his painstaking speech and smiled, for the first time, at the young boy whose eyes were brimming with tears.

"Thank you sir," Harry whispered. "Thank you, Uncle." He beamed, finally having someone who loved and cared for him.

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><p><strong>AN: This is the END!  
>Thank you to everyone who read, reviewed, and favorited! <strong>

**And Vernon did not ever meet Severus because Severus was most of the times at Hogwarts, and furthermore, she wouldn't bring Vernon to a household with a wizard and witch, in case something was revealed. Vernon is a Muggle, so Petunia did not tell him anything about Severus, else she would arouse suspicion.**


End file.

Harry Potter, Hurt-Comfort