"If that is yet another damned owl I am going to quit," Severus swore as there was a knock and a hoot on his office door at six o'clock Sunday morning.
He'd gotten so many owls this week that Albus had started to have students bring them to him during the day.
He threw open his door, intending to send whatever student has the misfortune of bringing him mail back to their bed, and faltered when he saw the cause for his influx of post standing before him.
"Morning Professor," Potter said brightly. "We're still on for today?"
Severus had actually forgotten he had told Potter to arrive early Sunday to state his 'favor'. In his defense, it had been the worst first week at Hogwarts he had experienced since his first year of teaching.
And it was Potter's fault, of course.
"Yes. Come in," he told the monster.
Potter walked casually in to his office and took an easy seat in front of Severus' desk. "D'you drink coffee?" he asked as soon as he sat.
Severus slumped in his own seat, too exhausted to follow along with Potter's chaos this morning. "I do," he replied tersely.
Potter smiled at him, apparently relaxed as could be in his presence, "Brill, wanna see a cool trick?"
Before Severus had a chance to tell him no that he did not want to see a 'cool trick' Potter put his hands around his mouth and screamed, "Mavis!"
A young house elf popped in to Severus' office. It was wringing an odd green garment it wore across its chest, and his large yellow eyes were squinting in what he assumed to be happiness.
"Master Potter is calling for Mavis! And Mavis is responding! Is Mavis doing it correctly for Master?"
"You're doing great," Potter reassured him. "Could you bring us coffee though? And those weird breakfast pastries that Professor Snape eats?"
"Mavis will! And Mavis will bring Master Potter his favorite crumpets!"
Severus watched, shocked in to silence, as the little elf popped away again, only to reappear moments later with trays ladened with a coffee service and pastries.
"Can Mavis be doing anything else for Master Potter?"
"Nope," Potter said, pouring two cups of hot coffee, "this is great." The elf bowed low to Potter and disappeared.
"This is for you, sir," Potter said, nudging a mug towards him.
Severus took a fortifying drink, wishing he had any idea how to deal with Potter when he was in what seemed to be a perky mood.
"Potter," he sighed, "Students cannot call on the Hogwarts House-Elves."
"Right."
"So you cannot call Mavis to bring you coffee and food."
"Yes I can," Potter said simply, snagging a crumpet off the tray.
Severus grimaced at his arrogance. "Why?" he sneered, "Because you're famous Harry Potter?"
Potter glanced up at him and narrowed his eyes in irritation. "No," he said slowly. "Because Mavis isn't a Hogwarts elf, is he? He's mine, kind of."
"Accio Pain Reliever," Severus murmured with a quick flick of his wand.
A flick that caused Potter the tiniest twitch of his hand.
Severus would have apologized for startling him, not that Potter would admit to being startled, except it was the brats fault he needed the potion to start with.
Potter watched calmly as Severus swallowed the potion, sighing in relief as his building migraine dissipated.
"Why do you have a House Elf?" he asked him tersely. The foolish boy did not even have a home. Which, as tragic as that was, made a house elf rather moot.
"His name is Mavis," Potter said coolly, seemingly offended on the behalf of the elf.
"Apologies," Severus rolled his eyes. "Why do you have Mavis?"
"Bought him, didn't I?" Potter said, leaning back in his chair with a bright smile.
"You bought-"
"And then I freed him."
Severus swallowed down his reprimand at interrupting him in favor of raising his brows at the child incredulously.
"You bought Mavis... then you freed him? Why?"
Potter leaned towards him, his eyes wide and excited, as if on the brink of an incredible breakthrough.
"Because, sir, I needed to know more about elves, right? And so Madame Bones said I should talk to a house elf but I didn't know any, did I? So I wrote to Draco's Dad, because they have a ton of elves, and he sold me Mavis. But I don't want to own anyone so I gave him clothes right off the bat. But I needed somewhere for him to go, right? And Mister Malfoy had said there are a lot of elves in Hogwarts so I hoped nobody would notice an extra one so... ta da!" He wiggled his fingers for effect apparently, "here he is!"
Severus cradled his head in his hands. Only Potter would purchase then immediately free an elf just to 'learn more about them'. It was rather clever to hide the elf amongst the hundreds who live in the castle. He wasn't wrong, nobody would likely notice one extra elf wearing green.
He thought he may regret asking more questions, but his sense of self preservation seemed to have temporarily left him. "Why does Mavis respond to you if you freed him?"
"Because he's a sneaky little thing," Potter grumbled. "I told him that I'm not going to own anyone so you know what he said? He said 'then Mavis won't be telling you nothing about elves'. So we made a deal, he answers my questions and he can be my acquaintance."
Severus lifted his head up, his lips twitching in amusement, and looked at Potter's exasperated face.
"That must be horribly aggravating," he said sardonically.
Potter's owl hooted as the boy threw his hands up in irritation.
"It is," he swore. Apparently the irony was going over his head.
"Indeed." Severus sipped his coffee and plucked a Chelsea bun off the tray of pastries. He wasn't sure how or why Potter became aware of his preference for the 'weird pastry' but it made his annoyance at the boys behavior lessen slightly.
They ate in a comfortable silence for a few minutes before Severus decided he was prepared to deal with more of Potter's chaos.
"You said you wished to ask me for a favor?" he asked, raising a single brow.
Potter nodded and wiped his hands off on his napkin.
"Yes, sir. But I wanted to know what you'd want in return first."
Severus vehemently hoped that Potter's elf is as irritating as the boy himself was.
"I require nothing for you to ask me the favor," he informed him. "Depending on what the favor is- I reserve the right to request something in return for fulfilling it. Which," he raised his hands slowly as Potter opened his mouth to interrupt, "I shall inform you of beforehand."
Potter nodded, his eyes once again sparkling with joy.
"Is your office warded?" he whispered.
Severus knew this was going to be an illegal discussion.
"Yes."
"I need to use a pensieve," Potter said.
"A pensieve?" Severus asked. "And why would you need to use a pensieve?"
Potter studied him closely, his lips pursed and his head cocked sideways. He then released his breath and lent even further over Severus' desk.
"If I tell you a secret- will you swear to never tell a single person? Actually," he scrunched his brows down in sudden thought, "will you swear to never tell anyone, period. No human, or elf, or goblin, or werewolf, or centaur, or any other being?"
Severus truly tried not to laugh, but Potter's attempt at covering any loopholes still caused him to chuckle lightly.
"I swear to never repeat what you tell me to another sentient being unless you absolve me of this swear," he said with a small grin playing around the corner of his mouth.
Potter grinned back up at him, clearly pleased with Severus' swear. "There's a prophecy about me, and I've got it, and I need a pensieve to listen to it."
And that- that wiped the smile right off Severus' face.
"You have what?" he breathed, his heart thumping erratically. "How in Merlin's name did you find out about it?"
Potter stared at him hard. His previously excited eyes dulling and his nose scrunched up, as if solving a difficult problem.
His eyes suddenly went wide and flew to meet Severus'. "Was it you?" he asked quietly.
Severus said nothing, praying that Potter's information was missing a Severus sized piece of the puzzle.
"It was!" he cried, jumping to his feet and lurching away from the desk, his owl hooted and flew to the office rafters. "You were the spy!"
Apparently he was missing no pieces of the puzzle.
Severus stood slowly, his stomach clenching with what he knew to be guilt.
In his most self abusing fantasies he had never even once imagined having to explain to this childs face that it was his fault he was an orphan.
"Who told you about the prophecy?" Severus demanded quietly. "The Headmaster?" Even as he asked, he knew it would not have been Albus. Albus would never have allowed Potter to retrieve the prophecy the child supposedly had with him if so.
"No," he said slowly, watching Potter for tells. "Not Albus... Lucius?"
Potter's left eyelid twitched, just slightly, and confirmed Severus' guess.
I will kill him, he thought viciously.
Potter was paling and kept flicking his eyes toward the office door.
"D-doesn't matter, d-does it?" Potter stammered, edging away from Severus as he walked slowly towards him. "Y-you already know about it."
"It matters a great deal why you have it. You have no idea how dangerous this is," Severus snarled, misplacing his anger at himself and Albus on to the child. He walked up close to Potter, who had foolishly backed himself in to a corner.
"I'll hurt you," Potter whispered, clenching his eyes shut. "I'm going to hurt you."
"Do it," Severus hissed back. "Do you think I wouldn't deserve it? Do it."
Potter raised one hand tentatively, opening his eyes and training them on Severus' open hands.
"I-I..." he threw another wild look around the room before abruptly shoving Severus away from him. "I gotta go," he choked out, edging for the door and sprinting out to the hall before Severus could stop him.
"Son of a bitch," he yelled, swiping the books off the shelf beside him. He kicked one across the room for good measure before slumping to the ground against the wall.
All his work, all his lies and truths, and deals were for naught. How could he protect the child now? Potter would never trust him again. In fact, the boy may even make an attempt on his life.
He was sure it would be a very good attempt too. Zachariah Dolohov had spent three nights in the Hospital Wing unconscious from internal bleeding and shock simply for injuring Ronald Weasley.
It would be fitting if Lily's son killed him for his part in her death.
He was pulled from his self flagellation by a distant 'hoot'.
He tilted his head up and saw the fuzzy little black owl he gifted Potter with flying around the ceiling beams.
He thought he couldn't possibly feel more miserable than he already did until he remembered that Potter named his familiar after him.
'I had to find a good name for such an unruly thing like him, didn't I sir? Sevvie here ain't as much of a demon as you made him sound.'
Potter was fond of the owl and he was fond of Severus. He had wrote him constantly all summer; filling him in on his adventures at least once a week. He had trusted Severus with the truth of his exploit at the end of last year. He came to him with complaints about Gilderoy. He had named his Merlin damned owl after him.
Severus would regain the child's trust if it was the last thing he did.
And he'd start with 'Sevvie'.
"Come along owl, let us return you to the owlery."
The owl dutifully flew to Severus where it immediately landed on his shoulder and began pulling at his hair.
"If I were not on the outs with your owner I would pluck your feathers," he told the creature as he strode through the empty halls to the tower.
He cast a quick tempus and was surprised to see it was only half past six. Thirty minutes ago his biggest concern was letters from angry parents about their students' mysterious ailments on the first night. Now he was ruminating on how to earn back some semblance of trust with Potter.
Solely because the child needed a stable adult in his life. And Lucius Malfoy certainly was not the person for the job. Nor was the Contessa Zabini. Severus refused to examine why he held the belief that he was the best person for the job. Or why he even wished to have the job in the first place.
He arrived in the owlery and, distracted as he was with his thoughts, nearly missed the actual human child curled into themselves in the corner.
"Potter?" he asked quietly after doing a double take and recognizing the shaggy black hair currently being roughly pulled on.
Potter, for it was indeed Potter, groaned. "Did you follow me?" he mumbled into his knees.
"No, I... I-" Severus blamed his faltering speech on the fact he was caught rather off guard by Potter's presence. He cleared his throat lightly, "I have your owl."
Potter didn't respond so Severus shooed the little owl off his shoulder when-
"Gonna take him from me too?"
Severus turned sharply around. Potter had lifted his head from his knees and was glaring at him.
"No- Potter, of course not. He was a gift. He's yours," he reassured him gently. "I have no desire to rescind your pet."
Potter tilted his head down, staring silently at the floor. Severus was inching closer to the door, keeping a wary eye on the boy, when he faltered. Although he knew Potter did not wish to be in his presence, was it safe to leave the child alone?
"Would you like me to fetch Miss Bones? Or one of your other friends?" he asked quietly.
Potter continued staring at the floor and Severus patiently waited for him to respond. He did not seem to be in one of the mind sets that Severus has associated with his past traumas. Instead, he simply seemed like an upset young boy.
Eventually, Potter whispered what was likely the most hurtful accusation ever slung at Severus:
"I thought you were my friend."
The child did not sound angry, nor accusatory, instead he sounded as if he had lost something valuable- almost heartbroken. It tugged painfully in Severus' chest.
He stepped closer to Potter, though remaining a distance away that the boy would not feel threatened, and looked down at him mournfully.
"I do not believe that I have the words to express to you how truly sorry I am. I... I have wished for a way to reverse time since the moment I shared the prophecy." Severus took a steadying breath before continuing, "I told you once that joining the Death Eaters was the worst mistake I ever made but I lied. Sharing the prophecy with the Dark Lord is the worst thing I have ever done."
Potter slowly lifted his head and, oh, Severus had never seen him look so childlike. His eyes were hurt and glassy, and his lower lip was trembling. He has seen the child angry, and confused, and last Christmas he had seen him in the aftermath of what had seemed to be a terrible crying fit, but nothing compared to the sorrow filled heartbreak the boy wore plainly on his face now.
"You can't get things you want just by wishing for them," Potter said softly in a trembling voice. "It's better to not want things, then it never hurts."
Severus thought that while it was an admirable view to take, it was still cynical for a mere twelve year old to have.
He sunk down to the floor and sat cross legged in front of Potter, placing his wand on the ground in front of him where the child could see it.
"Regrets are a part of life," he said, choosing his words carefully. "I believe my regrets are much worse than most and will haunt me through to the afterlife."
Potter continued to cradle his knees and was staring past Severus towards the doorway.
"I have regrets too," he whispered. "And they'll never go away, will they? They'll just be here forever, just like yours."
Severus released his breath, recognizing the mood of the child. Potter wasn't angry, yet, he was sad.
"I have done terrible things," he admitted. "I believe that your regrets, while possibly many, will fade with time. You have lived a life no child should be expected to and found a way to survive. You should feel proud, not regretful."
He hoped his words could sooth whatever minor regrets Potter likely carried through his life.
"I killed someone once. Should I feel proud of that?" Potter whispered in a voice so soft Severus could have pretended he didn't hear it.
But for the second time that morning Severus found himself in complete shock.
"What- who- Merlin," he breathed. "Will you tell me what happened?"
Potter just turned his head and met his eyes.
"Watch," he choked out.
That was as much of an invitation and consent as Severus needed.
"Legilimens," he whispered, picking up and pointing his wand at the child's tangled black locks of hair.
His consciousness landed in Potter's mind.
It was black, empty, cold.
Worrisome.
'Show me what happened,' he murmured. 'Let me in.'
Instantly it felt as if the ground beneath his feet disappeared and he began free falling through a void.
Severus was a brave man; he had always held his composure in situations which would make the toughest Gryffindors weak in their stomach- yet, this free fall through Potter's mind was discomforting to the point of terrifying.
It was just all so empty.
He had never experienced a mind such as this. Last time he had examined Potter's mental barriers they were warm and dark but this was cold to the point of frozen.
Finally, he floated slowly to a standing point at the edge of an empty park in the dead darkness of night.
No, not empty. A young Potter was curled up on a bench. The boy was possibly not much younger than the day Severus found him, likely only the winter before. Potter wore only a threadbare short sleeve top and trousers that were torn and filthy. He assumed the child had a type of heating charm on himself- nothing else could explain how he was tolerating the cold air and snowfall without visibly shivering.
Severus eyed him with pity until a noise at the edge of the park alerted him to the entrance of three boys. They were undeniably muggles, with electronics in their hands and baseball caps on their heads. Severus would estimate that they were roughly 18-21 years old.
Potter must have noticed them as well, otherwise they would not make an appearance in his memory.
"Hey," one of the boys nudged the one in the middle. "Look over there."
They all turned, like dogs to prey, and eyed the small child curled up on the bench.
Severus' stomach clenched when he saw the smirks they shared between them.
"Hey kid," the boy in the middle called. "Whatcha doin' out here all alone?"
"'M w-waitin' on m-my Dad," Potter said, shifting to an upright position. "He should b-be here soon."
"Oh yeah?" One of the other boys jeered. "And he just left you all alone in the cold?"
The other boys laughed and Severus clenched his fists. He would worry over Potter's safety if he was not already aware of the apparent outcome.
"I don't wanna hurt ya," Potter said softly. "I don't got no money or nothin'. I'm a nobody. Let's just call it a night, yeah?"
"Maybe we don't want your money," the boy on the far side from Severus, wearing a blue cap, leered. "You're awfully small, petite too, almost look like a bird, don't ya?"
"P-please, 'm gonna leave, 'kay?" Potter stammered, getting to his feet slowly. "Ya d-don't wanna do this."
Potter began backing away from the group, keeping his eyes trained on the largest boy in the group.
The boy closest to Potter suddenly lunged out and grabbed on to his arm. "Where ya goin?" he laughed. "I thought your Daddy was coming to get you? You're not all alone are you?"
"P-p-please let go," Potter cried, trying to twist his arm out of the boys grip. "I d-don't have anythin' y-ya want."
The boy holding Potter's arm twisted it painfully behind his back, causing the small child to cry out.
"I could break it," the boy hissed. "Just snap it right in half."
Potter quit struggling and instead clenched his eyes shut. Severus recognized it as the defense mechanism the child still makes when he is feeling overwhelmingly threatened.
"P-please," he whimpered.
Two of the Muggle boys laughed while the older one inched Potter's arm slightly higher, driving another cry of pain from the young boy.
"You can cry all you want," the older Muggle said, wrapping his free arm around Potter's torso. "I like it better that way."
Potter froze, apparently making the same sickening conclusion that Severus did. Where other children, most adults as well, would have continued crying, Potter stopped completely. He went limp in the boys grip and pursed his lips tightly shut.
He categorically refused to give the Muggle what he wanted. It was a peculiar emotion to experience in this memory but Severus was proud of the boy in that moment.
"I think he's gonna try and 'be strong'," one of the other Muggles jeered, drawing a laugh from the one beside him.
"The boy'll break quick, they always do," he drawled in a nasally tone.
"Are you gonna break boy?" the one holding Potter crooned, running his hand up beneath the child's shirt.
Potter shook his head wildly, his hair flying around. Though he did not open his eyes or his mouth.
The Muggle lowered his hand up to Potter's throat, where he gripped it tightly, "I think you will. I could end your pathetic life now," he hissed. "Who would miss you?" He must have been squeezing tightly because Potter's face was rapidly changing colors. "Be a good boy," he murmured, squeezing Potter's throat one more time before lowering his hand back down slowly, trailing towards Potter's trousers.
Severus resisted the urge to close his own eyes when the Muggle stuck his hand down the front of the trousers. Potter let out the faintest cry at the contact.
"'M gonna k-kill you," he rasped out.
All three Muggles roared with laughter at what they saw to be an inconsequential threat.
"You do that boy," the blue hatted one chuckled as he freed his hand from Potter's trousers to lower his own, his other hand still holding one of Potter's wrists firmly between his shaking shoulders.
As the Muggle pulled Potter's trousers down, clear to his ankles, Severus lost the battle to close his eyes. He listened as Potter cried out sharply, just once, and the other boys laughed and taunted him. He heard heavy breathing, panting, and soft sharp breaths likely coming from the small child.
Severus waited, counting his own breaths, for what felt as if hours, though likely only a dozen or so minutes, until the Muggle cried out. He opened his eyes in time to see Potter being shoved to the dirt. The Muggle flopped to the ground as well, leaning back on his arms, his trousers still open, and laughed.
Laughed.
"He's all yours," the muggle waved his companions towards Potter. "He's not so tight now but I don't think I was the first one in there, was I boy?" he leered crudely at Potter. Potter twisted on to his back and frantically pulled up his trousers. His eyes were open wide now, wild and flickering.
"D-don't touch m-me." He held out a warning hand towards the two advancing Muggles. "'M g-gonna hurt y-ya."
The one on the ground suddenly sprang and put his face in Potter's. Severus got a sharp scent of bourbon and knew it must be coming from the Muggles breath in Potter's memory.
"You're not going to do anything, you're a nobody, remember?" He sneered and pushed Potter back to the ground before making the colossal mistake of turning his back to the dangerous child. Potter closed his eyes briefly, then opened them and his face had transformed. His eyes seemed brighter, more vibrantly green, and they were fixed on the Muggle in a cold hard stare.
He no longer appeared frightened and vulnerable; now he was confident and strong. It was jarring to witness.
Potter hissed something incomprehensible, likely unable to recall his exact words, and scooted backwards on the ground as the Muggle above him made an unholy shriek of pain. Ribbons of cuts slashed through the boys chest, Severus could see how deep they went when he saw white flashes of bone beneath the blood. Potter twisted his legs out of the way as the Muggle slumped to the ground.
The two other Muggles screamed and ran off and Potter kept his steely eyes on the Muggle on the ground beside him. More and more slashes marred his body until he let out a final agonizing moan.
Potter gazed at the boy with cold eyes as he stood up slowly, on trembling legs. He stood beside the body, in bloodstained clothes, and just stared silently for over a minute. Severus was preparing to exit the child's mind when Potter unexpectedly pulled his leg back and kicked the body with as much force as his small body could muster.
"I told ya I was gonna hurt ya," he hissed.
And Severus was abruptly ejected out of Potter's mind and back in to his own.
He looked at the present day Potter in badly concealed shock. The child was against the wall, his legs curled in to his chest, and his arms wrapped up and gripping tightly at his hair.
"How can I hate you for sharing a prophecy with your master when I... when I did that?" he whispered, agony in his every word. "I don't want to hate you..." his voice trailed off before he looked up at Severus, his lips were trembling and his eyes were red rimmed and shining, "You were the first person who was ever nice to me just because. Now we're even, I know the worst thing you ever did and you know mine."
How torn must the child's mind be when the child whispering to him now of a life filled with unkindness is somehow also the boy in the memory shredding apart a muggle with little more than a disdainful sneer?
"What were you thinking when you hurt him?" Severus asked, inching slowly closer to the child.
Potter got a momentary gleam of interest in his eyes before he blinked and it disappeared.
"I just wanted to cut him up so badly nobody could stitch it back together," he said tonelessly.
He wondered how Potter had accepted the death he caused how easily. Did he understand that it was a legally defensible action? No judge in the world would condemn a small boy for killing a man who had just violated him in the most despicable way possible.
'I have regrets too. And they'll never go away, will they? They'll just be here forever.' Severus remembered Potter saying.
And, 'D'you think good people do bad things sometimes or is it just that bad people that sometimes do good things?'
No, his initial thought was wrong- Potter did not accept his death as a justifiable act. He has carried it with him for all this time.
"It looks remarkably like a spell I invented when I was a student," Severus told him slowly. "I have also used it in self-defense before."
Potter lifted his head from his knees and studied Severus.
"They weren't special, they weren't like us. They couldn't hurt me, not really." He lowered his head back to his knees, "It wasn't self-defense. I'm a monster."
Severus continued his exceedingly slow scoot towards Potter until he was seated beside him. He discreetly pointed his wand at the door and warded it to ensure no student would arrive while Potter was in here. Had he not been so distracted by Potter's confession of murder he would have done it prior to entering his mind.
"Quit pulling your hair child," he said softly, looking down at Potter's head where his hands were still pulling harshly on his hair.
Severus slowly reached out and placed his open hand on Potter's fist.
"Let go," he whispered.
And Potter did.
He turned towards Severus and buried his face in his chest and absolutely let go.
Severus wrapped his arms around him, holding him firmly, as Potter sobbed into his chest.
For a time Potter simply sobbed. He wailed and Severus felt his chest become wet from tears. While Severus was murmuring soothing nothings to the child he began to speak around his cries.
"I-I don't w-wanna be like him," he cried.
"Like who?"
"V-V-Voldemort. I don't w-want to be a m-monster."
Severus wondered how many times this young boy is going to break his heart.
"Shh," Severus whispered back, stroking the child's hair. "You are no monster."
Potter continued to tremble and sniffle until eventually it seemed as if he had no tears left to shed. Severus continued stroking his hair and holding him against him.
"Please let go."
Severus immediately released Potter and allowed him to scoot away from him. He conjured a handkerchief and silently handed it to him.
"Thanks," Potter mumbled, accepting the cloth.
Severus hummed in response and leaned his head back against the stone wall. He politely did not look at Potter as he cleaned himself up, sure the fiercely independent child would not like an audience, and instead cleared his own mind.
"I'm sorry for getting you wet," Potter said softly. "I can fix it now."
Severus waved off his concern, his robes were well accustomed to messes. Although admittedly tears of pre-pubescent boys was a new one for him. Potter apparently decided to ignore his wave because Severus felt a warmth spread across his chest and glanced down to see he was now clean and dry.
"You'd be an excellent house elf," Severus told him drily.
Potter snorted, so Severus risked a glance at him. His face was red and puffy but his shoulders seemed more relaxed. It had seemed to be quite a cathartic cry.
"The Dursley's thought I was a house elf, but I wouldn't ever make Mavis live in a cupboard," Potter said, as if that were not a horrifying statement.
Severus' lips twitched involuntarily at Potter's sardonic tone. "Petunia always was an insufferable moron," he said.
Potter carefully leaned against the wall, mimicking Severus' pose, and inched willingly towards him until they were an arms length apart.
"I'm sorry," he said.
Severus had to stop himself from rolling his eyes.
"What needless apology are you offering me now?"
"It's not needless," Potter said defensively. "I shouldn't have been mad at you before I gave you a chance to explain. You've been really good to me and I was- I was just..."
"Hurt? Furious? Betrayed?" Severus offered, with a single brow raised. "I believe you were well within your rights to feel all those emotions and more. I would have quite deserved it had you struck me with lightening."
Potter chuckled, "Did I tell you about shooting lightening bolts at Quirrell's head?"
Severus tried to remain stoic, he truly did. But the image of the Dark Lords face being stung by lightening shot by the boy with the lightening scar would have been a sight to see.
"You did not, though if you'd like to show me I do happen to own a pensieve."
"C-can I use it?" Severus looked over and saw Potter was fidgeting slightly. "If not it's okay..."
"Care to make a deal?" he offered the child, utilizing the boy's own economy system.
"I don't want to talk about it ever again," Potter said stoutly. "Please."
Severus hummed, not pretending to misunderstand him.
"I will allow you to use my pensieve under two conditions; one, I would like to hear the full prophecy with you. As I'm sure you are no doubt aware, I only heard part of it."
Potter nodded, "And?"
"And I would like to tell you a story and I would appreciate you listening before deciding whether you believe I am a worthwhile friend and ally to you."
Potter squinted suspiciously at him.
"That's all you want?" he asked incredulously. "Just to listen to the prophecy and me to listen to your story?"
"It is," Severus responded simply.
Potter scooted a little closer to him, their legs were nearly touching.
"Okaaay," he said, drawing the word out slowly. "I'm listening."
Severus took a deep breath, closed his own eyes, and began his tale;
"My father was a Muggle, and my mother an accomplished witch..."
And Severus spoke. He told Potter of his own abusive childhood, his friendship with Lily, his rivalry with James Potter. He spared no detail; not his own Marking Ceremony with the Death Eaters nor why he owed James Potter a life debt.
As he sat on the floor of the owlery and shared his soul with Potter the child scooted over and carefully rested his head on Severus' shoulder and listened.
***
That night, as Severus stared in to his fireplace, nursing a glass of gin, his mind continued circling back to Potter's memory. It was luck on the muggles part that Potter had already dispatched of his attacker- if he had not Severus would have found him and made Potter's spellwork look like childs play.
He closed his mental barriers against the assault and the murder and instead focused on Potter's whimpered plea:
'I'm a nobody.'
He also thought of how Potter had absolved him of his own guilt by saying that "everyone deserves a second chance", and had even twitchily given him a hug before they departed.
Harry Potter was not a nobody. And Severus Snape would spend as much time, energy, and effort ensuring he was aware of that.