Harry Potter - Series Fan Fiction ❯ Inside me. ❯ little boy found ( Chapter 2 )

Inside me - ch 2.

 

Dumbledore stood by his stately window; hands clasped behind his back, and surveyed the school he was privileged with heading. He beamed, pleased with what he saw. He saw before him a wonderful sanctuary where wizarding children of all backgrounds could find knowledge, friendship and acceptance, learning not just the curriculum, but about other kinds of people. Here pureblood, half-blood and muggleborn mingled freely. He admitted that Slytherin was a problem, but he pushed that to the back of his head for the time being.

 

The sun shone brilliantly and he saw Hagrid getting the thestrils ready for the start of term that evening. All in all, it was hard not to feel optimistic.

 

The sorting sprang a few surprises on him - young Sirius Black going into Gryffindor was a shock, but seeing him bounce so eagerly over to James Potter and young Lupin warmed his heart, bringing an avuncular smile to his lips. Sirius and Lupin needed friendship desperately, neither had experienced a good childhood and hopefully young Potter, of good auror stock would also be able to stave off the Dark in them.

 

Hufflepuff had also had a good year, Albus was pleased to note. He tried to recognise their loyalty, honest toil and myriad other sterling qualities. They were a pleasure to teach, so earnest and determined, but hardly flashy and often the amusing, daring antics of the Gryffindors left the house overlooked.

 

He noticed a few fine children being creamed off into Ravenclaw, the intellectuals' house was always very selective, but once you had been accepted into the house you were assured of a warm supportive home for your school life. Even fewer, less than half a dozen were ushered over to the Slytherin table. The poor nervous mites were eyed up weighingly, accepted, but one got the feeling the elder house members had merely chosen to reserve judgement for the time being.

 

Later that evening Dumbledore's twinkly-eyed smile had melted away and he sat serious-faced at his desk, peering at the scruffy little lad stood before him. Barely six hours out of his mother's arms and this child, with passionately glittering black eyes had viciously tried to hex three other first year students. Sensing the boy's harsh nature and with the severity of the hex fired off from a week old wand in mind Dumbledore knew he had to be firm. While he believed in kindness, he equally believed in allowing only a safe level of youthful competition and hijinks.

 

The teacup he held rattled slightly when Dumbledore sternly awarded detention and those deep eyes held no remorse, only a pure rage and defiance that took Dumbledore aback. The first-years were generally too overawed by their eminent headmaster to show or even feel such fury.

 

Then everything was clamped down. The rage was replaced by a cool expression and the teacup's tremor stilled. The boy jerked a silent nod and left rapidly. Dumbledore shook his head, there were always a few troublemakers who needed to learn the limits of acceptable retaliation. He settled down with a good book and thought no more of it.

 

What the headmaster had missed, putting it down to temper, the young Lucius Malfoy had not. Where the headmaster had seen an angry boy with a magical touch that verged on that of a throwback, wild as it was, Lucius saw a kindred spirit of sorts. The boy's touch was rough, inelegant even, but the naturalism of his magic spoke to the older boy. But first he had to learn the art of camouflage more thoroughly.

 

The whole common room crackled with power, all of it focused on Severus. In fact, for all the rumours there were only four other true Dark children in the whole house of Slytherin and only one in Ravenclaw. The other Slytherin were normal witches and wizards less afraid of the `darker' side of human nature, willing to do what was needed in pursuit of their goals, rather than shying away from what needed doing.

 

Then Lucius placed a hand on the child's shoulder. `Not tonight, ladies and gentlemen. This one is under my charge.' He then said something in a language Severus didn't understand or recognise, but felt kinship with on some visceral level. A few gasps accompanied this.

 

Lucius led the boy to the fifth year dormitory and sat him on the bed, treating the wretch to an urbane smile. Lucius was slender, pale, elegant, with a deep mellow voice and longish golden hair. Wealthy, popular and self-possessed. The child before him was the photo-negative version. He was almost diametrically opposite on the surface, but identifiably similar too.

 

`In the Slytherin dorm and common room you may stay with me. We share a certain magic that gives a bond deeper than mere blood. Outside the house confines you will act as if I am just another Slytherin senior and you will not do any magic beyond those ridiculous faux-latin excuses for spells this place teaches. Deviation will be punished, but if you ever need my presence, then come to me.'

 

Severus nodded, watching Lucius lazily flex his own magic. He yawned. `Shower and bed for you, boy. Sleep here tonight.'

 

The two boys slept deeply, huddling together primaly, like wolves in a pack. The dark and light boys were the picture of innocence, feeling safe and at ease for once.

 

The next morning Severus discovered that Lucius was not the only pupil to have drawn his own conclusions about the unusual spell he'd used in his overenthusiastic self-defence. Worse yet, the most antagonistic pair of those people largely shared his schedule.

 

Sirius Black sneered. He had hoped that school would be a refuge from he kind of thing that went on within his family. Unfortunately for him it seemed that this was not meant to be. Worse yet, the little toe rag even looked slimy. He nudged his new best friend in the ribs and pointed at the other boy.

 

James wanted to be an auror when he grew up, just like his Mum and Dad. He wanted to fight the new Dark Lord, keeping the wizarding world safe from evil as his grandparents before him had battled Grindlewald. He'd been brought up on tales of heroism and good triumphing over evil, but he did want to have a bit of fun on the way too. He blinked awake when Sirius jabbed him in the ribs. His lip curled. Merlin, that Slytherin was ugly, all sharp edges, beaky nose, soiled looking shades of black drawn over him and scowling about the class, as if daring someone to try something. James was normally a nice enough lad, but something about that boy made him want to hex him. Sirius had come to the same conclusion and they quietly raised their wands.

 

`Ahem! Sit down quietly and pay attention!' The lady teacher who hadn't been there before rapped out, her crisp tones rattling through the room. To the children she seemed impossibly old, but in truth Minerva McGonagall was less than a decade out of schooling, herself.

 

Somehow Snape had sensed what was going on and flashed them a smirk as he sat down next to a Slytherin girl who already had her quill poised, ready to write. Minerva noticed the expression and frowned, he was a typical Slytherin then, albeit one who paid attention in lessons rather than gossiping and plotting. Most Slytherins either annoyed her or gave her the creeps. She found their ambitions and plots irksome; schoolchildren should be learning and playing games, perhaps with some gossip and friendship groups thrown in. Slytherin children went in for full on politics and power plays. A previous head of the house had actually kept charts of his charges' politics and schemes and had informed her that it was wonderfully entertaining as a spectator sport.

 

Severus stared at his needle, probing it with magic and trying to find the trigger within it to persuade the blasted thing that it wanted to be a matchstick. Unfortunately for him from the outside it just looked like the scruffy boy was trying to glare his classwork into submission rather than complete it.

 

Lily stole a look at the freak-boy she'd been told not to go near, only to see his glare scowl into a relieved almost-smile. The corners of his mouth twitched, but gave up partway, so the overall expression was indicative of a temporary cessation of irritation, rather than actual gladness. Nonetheless, he suddenly looked a lot less scary than she'd been led to believe.