Severus thought, foolishly, that he would be able to speak with his colleagues before Albus poisoned them against his newest star snake.
He had hoped that the other professors would see the wide green eyes, the scars, the tremors, and recognize a shell-shocked survivor in a child's body. An underweight and pitifully short childs body at that.
His ridiculous optimism was burst at their first staff meeting of the year, on Wednesday after dinner.
The Hogwarts Professors were all congregated in the staff room- prefects knew to monitor the halls and come for one of them in case of an emergency. Severus himself was seated between Filius and Quirinius. The former was carrying on a one-sided conversation he had lost track of while focusing on the queer feeling of wrongness he was getting from the latter.
Something was different about the stuttering defense teacher this year, and he was determined to find the cause of it.
"Well," Albus said from the front, genially calling for the beginning of the meeting. "I believe you all have now had at least one class with each year."
He gazed around and clasped his hands together when none contradicted his statement.
"Wonderful. How are our students settling in? Any difficulties? Poppy?"
"So far I have had one fifth-year show up with burns on her fingers from a lesson on salamanders-"
Silvanus Kettleburn muttered "silly girl," under his breath.
"-but I fixed her up right as rain." Poppy continued, giving a look of agreement to Silvanus. "I've also had a first year with a bad case of homesickness. And of course, Mister Flint needed a few potions to fix him up from his summer."
Severus held his mask of indifference, but sighed internally. Marcus Flint was one of the students that he has tried carefully, and repeatedly, to have removed from the care of his relatives, to no avail. He simply does not carry the weight, the power, or the credit to sway the Ministry into investigating Marcus' home.
Albus waved off her comments with nothing more than a "very well my dear, it sounds as if you have the situation well in hand."
If that man cared one iota for the Slytherins, as he does his precious Lions, he could prevent a lot of pain and gain powerful loyalty, Severus thought with a sneer. He carries the weight and power to simply sweep in and save some of these kids, if he gave a single damn.
"Has anyone experienced any difficulties with any of our newcomers?" Albus asked, his blue eyes twinkling as he looked around the room.
Aurora, who had previously been slumped over and half-asleep, took a quick sip of her coffee and spoke up.
"Not difficulties Headmaster, but I would like to say that I finally happen to have two prodigies in my class."
"Oh?" Albus inquired, "from your first years?"
She nodded eagerly, her face alive with a rarely seen sense of excitement.
"Oh yes, Misters Zabini and Potter seem to have memorized the entire night sky. It's brilliant! I've recommended further reading for them both so that they are not bored in my class," the witch gushed.
"Ooh, Potter? The child is simply marvelous! You should have seen his charmwork. Wandless and silent."
Severus watched Albus' face closely as Filius spouted off Potters, apparently numerous, charms.
There it is.
Albus' eyes flashed, temporarily losing his customary twinkle to a much darker look of consternation.
Surprisingly, it was Minerva who spoke up against Potters achievements with a derisive snort- drawing the eyes of the rest of the staff to her.
"The boy is a disappointment," she said simply, clearly not reading the air of enamor that the other professors were oozing over Potter.
"Oh?" Severus asked silkily. "Do explain."
Minerva ticked her complaints off as she listed them.
"He refuses to follow instructions, he incites the other students into acting out, he believes himself to be above even looking at me when I speak to him, I've heard complaints from my students that he is starting fights with them, and for all that he looks like James- he certainly doesn't share his personality."
Severus huffed out a humorless laugh as he leaned towards Minerva.
"And yet," he said with a curl of his lip, "I find that you described the late Potter perfectly. Breaking rules, dragging others into trouble, arrogant, and needlessly initiating fights with his fellow students."
"James is dead, as you are clearly aware," Minerva said sharply. "Get over it Severus."
He refused to acknowledge the hit. He sat back and raised a brow at her, "Then how do you expect the child to share his personality? Tsk. I thought you would understand nature vs nurture better than that Minerva. Potter wears green robes instead of red, 'get over it'," he drawled.
Aurora cleared her throat lightly and nodded at him. As his only fellow Slytherin on the staff, she knew all too well about the bigotry that can be held against the young snakes.
He doubted she would understand the fear, anger, and discrimination that Minerva and Albus held towards any reminder of another Slytherin, 50 years ago, who walked these halls and became one of the fiercest Dark Lords in history.
Albus interceded before Minerva was able to retort.
"As some of you may be aware," he made eye contact at Minerva and Severus both, "I have had some concerns regarding the boy. I requested that Minerva keep a close eye on him to gauge his disposition."
He sighed heavily, as if letdown by the fantasy of the 'Savior' he had built for himself.
"I hope that, in time, he comes to open up with his professors and works diligently on controlling his wild magic."
Which Severus could roughly translate to; 'I want Potter to depend on me and I want Potter to not be so blatantly powerful and I want you all to think he could be dangerous'.
He heard a tiny scoff, which was immediately covered by a cough, and glanced curiously at Quirinius.
"Something amusing?" He murmured quietly, returning his gaze to his tea, while keeping the other mans face within the corner of his vision.
"N-n-not at all, S-s-Severus," Quirrell whispered back. "J-j-just don't s-s-see all the f-fuss about P-p-potters power."
Severus inclined his head minutely, silently agreeing with the stuttering Professors assessment of the asinine conversations happening around the room.
It seemed that Minerva and Albus were in a hushed conversation on their own, while Filius, Aurora, and Pomona were comparing notes on Potters behavior in class.
Severus rubbed his forehead at the complexities of the 'Potter Problem', as he dubbed the child in his head.
Judging from his reports from the older Slytherins, Potter was a constant target for abuse from the other houses in the halls. They said there were times he struck back viciously, never being caught, but no other explanation covered the silent hexes throw casually at the perpetrators.
Then, there were times where some hissed insults, shoves, and bullying, made him stutter and sweat anxiously.
Now here Severus sits, in a room of some of the brightest educators the Wixen world has to offer, seeing a clear divide in opinion.
Albus and, by apparent extension, Minerva, seem prepared for the child to bring about the next Great War. They mistake his difficulties as insolence, and his prowess as something to fear.
The rest of the professors who had him in class were stoutly defending him amongst themselves-
"-so sad," Pomona said.
"-a magical prodigy," Filius responded.
"-something off, but so sweet," Aurora said softly.
They were clearly charmed by the talented and polite pupil; misty eyed over his tragic status as an orphan, and impressed by his immense power.
And Severus had no idea how to proceed. Potter would need to tread carefully, making enemies of Albus and Minerva would ultimately be catastrophic for his life. The child needed to be talked with about his interactions with them. Told to keep his head down. Shown how to tamper the charismatic power he radiates.
Yet, he can't silence the voice in his head that whispered, 'why should Potter change to appease them? They don't see who he is. They should change and reach out to the child instead of simply writing him off.'
Eventually, after receiving a dismissal from Albus, and with a final sneer to Minerva, Severus set off for his quarters still pondering the best way to approach the Potter Problem on Friday evening.
***
Friday morning during his class, Severus kept a close eye on Potter.
The child clearly wasn't sleeping well- his complexion was pasty, he had dark circles beneath his eyes, and his tailored robes looked loose on his skinny frame.
He kept his head down and interacted minimally with his peers. He avoided stepping too close to the other students, and waited patiently by his cauldron for the storage closet to empty before going for his ingredients.
He measured, diced, and stirred adequately with steady hands. He gave small grins towards some of the other boys in his house.
Potter sat by the desk he had in his first lesson, in the back corner, and brewed amicably with Draco; soft whispers going back and forth.
Severus silently crept up beside them, hoping to overhear some of their conversation.
"Not Granger," Draco whispered before quelling beneath the chilling look of disdain Potter gave him.
"Piss off," Potter whispered back fiercely.
"Language," Severus murmured, startling both boys with his proximity.
Potter swiveled in his seat, subtly scooting towards the wall until his back was touching the rough mortar wall.
"Sorry, sir," he whispered, ducking his head.
Severus peered at their potion, a precise shade of mid-brewed hiccuping solution, and awarded them points for their accuracy.
Before he left to go observe the other pairs he lent close to Potter and spoke a quiet reminder of their appointment after dinner tonight.
Potter watched him sweep away with his head tilted and him green eyes narrowed in thought.
***
At precisely half past seven that night Severus had a soft knock on his classroom door.
"Enter."
Potter stepped inside the door and glanced around the room warily.
"'M here, sir," he said.
"I can see that Mister Potter," Severus' lips twitched at his unnecessary declaration. "Please, close the door and have a seat."
He glanced around the room once more before slowly closing the door and making his way to the chair Severus indicated.
Potter sat on the edge of the chair with a white knuckled grip on the desk and blinked up at him.
"I... I dunno what exactly 'm doin' here, sir."
"Have you ever received a physical examination when you resided with your relatives?"
"No sir," Potter mumbled.
Hardly surprising.
"Very well, I will explain to you what to expect this evening. Every student who enters my house is subject to a mandatory physical exam, as I explained on your first night. I will have you change in to a hospital gown, this is done to ensure the charm is able to fully assess you. Then, I will cast the diagnostic charm that will inform me of any major injuries, past or present, and of any current ailments or injuries, no matter how minor. Afterward- if there are any that require healing or treatment, I will do so."
He peered closely at Potter and saw that he had a look of wild fear in his eyes.
How do you complete a physical examination on a child with a mortal terror of physical contact?
"Potter?" He spoke gently. "I do not anticipate there being any reason for me to lay a hand on you. However, you can see Madam Pomfrey instead, if, for any reason, you wish for a female attendant."
"N-no. I dunno her," Potters voice was hoarse but he took it as a good sign that he was able to answer at all given the anxiety he was clearly filled with.
Severus also took it as a step in the right direction that Potter voiced an infinitesimal bit of trust in him.
Or does he believe he is unable to argue with me due to my status as both an adult and a figure of authority?
"If you would please follow me then," Severus got up and waited for Potter to follow behind before gesturing towards his office door.
"I have been completing physicals in my office to afford more privacy. If you would like to step in there, there is a gown on the cot. You may simply change and alert me when you are prepared for my entry."
Potter gave no verbal indication he heard him, but he inched himself around Severus and through the doorway, closing the door firmly behind him.
Severus paced around his classroom for three minutes... five minutes... and finally at seven minutes he felt his patience wearing thin.
"Potter?" He knocked on the office door. "May I enter?"
"Yes sir."
Potters voice was soft but it did not shake, tremble, or stutter.
Maybe they would make it through this without any undue hardship on the child's part.
... which was an incredibly naive thought and he recognized it as such as soon as he saw Potters face after entering the room.
He was seated on the cot, in the hospital gown, clutching his robes to his chest. His face was pale, throwing his facial scars out in a harsher light than usual.
He could also see more of Potters body than what was typically seen beneath his robes and found that there were a great deal more scars decorating his scrawny limbs.
Why does a child of a mere 11 years have more scars than most adult werewolves?
What Severus found most discomforting though was the absolute emptiness in his expression. Gone was the wild fear or the ever flickering gaze. His green eyes were wide, pupils dilated, fixed on the ground, and completely devoid of emotion.
"Potter," he sighed. "I am not going to hurt you."
Potter whispered, "'kay," causing Severus to sigh again.
Why didn't I make Poppy perform this physical?
"I believe that this exam may be better served, for both of us, if I simply perform it quickly. I am going to begin and I shall inform you of each step I take before I take it, do you understand?"
"Yes sir," Potter said to the floor.
Severus approached him slowly, with his wand held out in front of him.
"I am going to lightly tap my wand on your head while I speak the diagnostic charm now."
The child did not respond so Severus grit his teeth and decided to follow through on his decision to get this finished as quickly as possible.
Even chaotic and aggressive Potter was preferable to this vacant gaze and vulnerability on a blinding display.
"Egritudo."
He knew the report would be lengthy. No child survives seven years in an abusive home and three living on the streets without a decent amount of injuries and illnesses, as his scars would tell.
He was not prepared for the actual length of Potters report.
The child could burn every Muggle he encountered in his life to ashes and I would assist him in the scattering, he thought viciously.
He skimmed quickly through the major injuries in recent years and felt a horrible mixture of grief and rage tearing apart his insides.
"How... how are you alive?" He breathed, quite losing himself in shock of the report.
'Age 5; broken femur... Age 6; left shoulder dislocation... concussion... 3x3x2"
laceration, right shoulder... Age 7; three open fractures, right hand... second degree
burns, right arm... Age 8; traumatic brain injury, blunt force trauma... closed
fracture, ribs x3... Age 9; bronchitis... open fracture, left ankle... anal fissure...
closed fracture, rib... Age 10; closed fracture, right orbital socket... 4x6x3"
laceration, left thigh... anal fissure...'
... and on, and on, it went.
The fact that Potter is more than a shell-shocked invalid speaks both to his immense magical and mental strengths.
Severus desperately occluded his mind, seeking fortitude in the mental shields he conjured, and pursued any current injuries and illnesses.
Current Diagnoses: (1) Anemia
End of Report.
... anemic. Potter was anemic.
That's it?!
Severus almost laughed at the absurdity of Potter surviving all those injuries to only be diagnosed with easily treated low iron.
The reminder that there was no current charm to diagnose mental illnesses quickly sobered him.
The dark-haired orphan did not come through with one physical illness. Rather, he carried a host of internal illnesses that were neither easily diagnosed nor treated.
Severus cleared his throat, hoping to catch Potters attention, to no avail. The child still stared blankly at the floor- it was an eerie sight, not unlike the victims of dementors, a body without a soul.
"I have finished my report Mr Potter," he said quietly, not wanting to startle him after the last several silent minutes.
"Can I go?" Potter didn't even look up as he quietly asked. "Please, sir?"
It was tempting. The Gods only knew how tempting it was to allow the child to escape. Ultimately though, they would need to address some of these issues- the potions regimen for the anemia at a minimum. And Severus believed he would be doing Potter no favors by releasing him while he was clearly stuck in a trauma response.
"I am going to allow you to leave, very soon, Potter. First though- are you able to look around and tell me three things you can see?"
The child did not even lift his head when he tonelessly replied, "your boots, the desk, and my trainers."
"Very good," Severus, uncharacteristically, attempted to put as much warmth as possible in his voice. "And what are two things you can smell?"
A little flicker of life came in the green eyes as he cautiously inhaled deeply.
"Uh... lemon and maybe knotgrass?"
"Indeed. My NEWT students have begun using knotgrass to attempt to brew Polyjuice Potion."
Potter nodded and made a hum of acknowledgement, which was truly the most alive he had seemed since entering the office.
"What do you taste right now?" Severus asked him, speaking in a slightly louder tone than he had previously been using. Hoping it would help ground the child in the present.
"Copper," was the rapid response.
What an absurd thing to say.
"Why do you taste copper?"
Potter shrugged, and damned if Severus wasn't relieved to see that infernal shrug indicate that he was once again moving his muscles.
"Bit my tongue, didn't I? 'Spect it was bleedin' an blood tastes like copper."
Obviously.
"Would you like me to heal it, Potter?"
The child shook his head, black hair swinging wildly.
"No thank ya sir, I already did."
Of course he did. What's a little healing charm when compared to the whims of Harry Potters erratic magic?
"Very well," Severus told him. "If you would like to get back in to your robes I will meet you in the classroom to go over your results."
He left the office and returned to his classroom, immediately heading for his bookcase.
Anemia, while painfully common, was not an illness he has treated often in children, and it would be remiss of him to not confirm the recommended course of potions.
While he was pursuing the relevant information he heard his office door slowly open.
"Please have a seat, I will be with you momentarily," he called out, without looking up from his page.
After verifying that all the child would need is a months worth of iron and vitamin B supplements, followed by a checkup to ensure the diagnosis has corrected itself, he went to sit with him at the desks.
Severus sat behind his desk and studied him carefully. Potter looked mildly more himself. His cheeks had a bit of color and his eyes were no longer lifeless and empty, they had returned to their typical wary flickering state. He still looked exhausted, and was chewing his lip in worry- but an improvement overall.
"Mr Potter, while your report shows a truly disturbing amount of prior injuries and illnesses, I am pleased to inform you that the only current physical illness you are suffering from is anemia."
Potters gaze quit roaming and latched on to Severus'.
"'Nemia?" He asked, butchering the pronunciation with his deplorable accent. "What's that?"
"Anemia is a lack of of healthy red blood cells in your body, brought on by low iron, and likely, in your case, caused by a vitamin deficiency due to your malnourishment."
The child looked pensive when he answered.
"'M I gonna die?"
Severus snorted at his frank question.
"No, Mr Potter. You will not die. You will undertake a potions routine and within a month I feel certain of a complete recovery."
He eyed the child speculatively and made a shrewd guess. "Your headaches and constant fatigue will also diminish with this treatment."
The child sat up slightly at this and looked pleased at this information.
"'Nemia causes nightmares?"
"No," Severus replied slowly. "Are you unable to sleep due to nightmares?"
"Dunno," Potter looked off to the side of the room. "Sometimes, I 'spose. 'M sure everyone does. Not like there's nothin' to do 'bout it though."
Silly child.
"You are aware that this is a school for magic, correct? I think you will find there are very few problems that Wixen experience that cannot be treated with magic."
Potter sputtered and looked back at him with his big green eyes.
"But I looked! Looked everywhere, didn't I? First thing I checked but I couldn't find any spells for it no where and I searched the whole bleedin' library! Closest I found was 'occlumency' and it just said to 'clear my mind' like I ain't been tryin' that for years."
Well, that's concerning.
"Firstly, I would like to express my concern that you clearly suffer from nightmares frequently enough to have searched the 'whole bleedin library' for a solution."
Potter flushed and looked away again but Severus continued on.
"Secondly, there is no spell to absolve a person of nightmares. However, there is a potion called Dreamless Sleep that would ease your slumber."
"Really?" Potter breathed. "That's brill sir."
Severus held up a hand to request momentary silence and contemplated him for a moment.
"I will administer, and monitor, the prescription of this potion. I do have two requests of you beforehand though."
He got a side eyed glare and a huff from the child at that.
"Course," Potter grumbled. "What'd'ya want?"
Severus silently raised a brow until Potter tacked on a rather ungracious "sir".
"I would first like to offer you the invitation to partake in Occlumency lessons with me, once every fortnight. Dreamless Sleep can be addictive and it would benefit you greatly in the long run if you were able to clear your mind before you rest as opposed to relying on a potion."
Potter cocked his head to the side, as he tends to do when he is considering something, and nodded in easy acceptance.
"Excellent." He stalled for a moment to decide on the best way to word his second request before deciding that Potter would likely appreciate bluntness. "My other request is that you inform me of the nature of your nightmares. It tends to lighten the load on oneself when they are able to discuss them."
Potter let out a sharp laugh and returned to glaring at the wall.
"No," he said simply. As if believing that Severus would cave to his refusal.
"No? Very well, you are dismissed," he bluffed.
He knew that strong arming the small boy was not necessarily the most genteel method but Potter is possibly the most reticent child he has ever met.
"Wait- okay, okay." Potter glared at him, his green eyes narrowed in dislike. "You're a bit of a bastard, ya know that?"
Severus snorted. He was well aware of that. However- "two points from Slytherin for language, Potter."
Potter just rolled his eyes and shrugged, "McGonagalls taken loads more than that, sir, and I didn't even call her a bastard, did I?"
An excellent opening to warn him about the dangers of provoking Minerva and Albus if he ever saw one.
"What is Professor McGonagalls reasoning behind the point loss?"
"She says I ain't listenin', says 'm rude, and took points from me when Susan was laughin' cause I made my needle do a little dance."
Severus himself tends to be a bit biased in the points system, but he justifies it with the factual knowledge that his Slytherins are unjustly deducted points for minor things and he tries to even the scores. Minerva, pre-Potter Jr., had usually never been so blatantly biased in her pointing.
"Potter I need you to listen to me very carefully, okay?" He said seriously. He waited until those green eyes settled on his in utter fixation before continuing.
"There are those within this castle who may not understand you. They see your skills and they fear them- because they do not understand them. It is unfair, it is unjust, but I have no need to tell you that so is life."
Potter sneered, a cold thing on such a young face, but his gaze remained attentive so Severus continued.
"When you are faced with those who do not understand you, you must keep your head down," he hissed, not unkindly. "I do not say this to frighten you- but to warn you of the dangers of creating powerful enemies of those who have never understood the type of resilience that survival skills like yours produces. Do you understand what I am telling you?"
Potters mouth thinned into a flat line and he nodded sharply.
"I figured it wouldn't be any different here, why would it? I just got different kind of people not likin' me, don't I?"
Severus inclined his head.
"Just so, Mr Potter. You do however have seemed to gain something that you did not have prior to this- allies."
And damn if the chilling smile that Potter gave him at those words was not eerily reminiscent of a younger Tom Riddle, in the height of his power when Severus first joined him.
***
It was not until Severus was preparing for bed that he realized he had, quite uncharacteristically, gotten side tracked with Potters crude language and discussion of Minerva, and never did receive an answer on the nightmares that plague his sleep.
And now that he is recalling it in his mind, there had been a smug look in the boys eyes when he left the classroom with his dosage of the potion he desired.
"Five points to Slytherin for an excellent example of cunning," he murmured as he climbed in to his bed.