7

Snape sat in the café.

The coffee seemed bitter, the sugar unsweetened, and life nasty and a failure. And then there was the little bugger, taunting him.

Oh, remember the devil.

Harry Potter, Lucius Malfoy and Draco Malfoy appeared from around the corner, content and happy. And Potter would have been fine! But Lucius!? Snape had no idea that an arrogant aristocrat could smile so contentedly.

I wondered what Harry Potter had managed to do to him. Snape only hoped his friend hadn't been fed Muggle drugs. Cure later...

The whole company landed at Snape's table, and Draco immediately grabbed his godfather's hand.

- Can you imagine, Uncle Severus! Turns out goblins don't know about disinfecting! And Harry also told Ollivander that there were only freeloaders around!

Snape snorted involuntarily.

- What do you mean, there are freeloaders everywhere? - Snape asked the Potter for clarification. And instantly, he got it from Harry.

- Because telling an eleven-year-old that great things are waiting for him is ridiculous or stupid. I'm flattered, of course, but I'm not that stupid, am I?

Now Malfoy clapped his eyes. And Harry took his success further.

- I take it a lot of people here know me? How so? I've never been to the magical world before, but... what's going on here anyway? Happening?

Now the adults looked at each other. But while they were deciding how and what to give the child, Draco was acting.

- That's because you're the Boy Who Survived!

- Is that right? Who died, then?

- Э...

Draco hesitated momentarily, deciding who Harry was asking, and Lucius took the floor.

- Henry, I take it that you know nothing about the origin of the scar on your forehead?

- According to my aunt, I banged it against a tree. Or a wall.

- Avada.

- The what?

- Avada Kedavra is an unforgivable death spell. Anyone it targets dies.

- Like a gun?

- Э... well, yes," agreed Snape, indirectly familiar with Muggle innovations.

- So... and it was pointed at me?

Lucius tapped his spoon on the ice cream vase, drawing attention to himself.

- If you don't mind, Henry, I'll talk. And the rest of you will fill me in after the story ends.

The word "after" was said in such a way that both Snape and Draco were silent. And Malfoy Senior began the story.

- About twenty years ago... yes, I was young then. A young man called Tom Riddle appeared in England. My father was acquainted with him - and introduced me. Unfortunately, at first, Tom was just recruiting friends and followers. And then...

Then it turned out he needed servants. I won't tell you all the details, I don't have the time or the mood right now, but the point is that twenty years ago, the first war of wizards broke out. England was divided into two parts. As you can easily guess, one half was for Voldemort, and the other half stood against him.

- Voldemort?

- He took that name for himself.

- And he wanted power? - Harry looked severe.

- All tyrants want power. Voldemort was no exception.

- And he did it...

- ...with raids. Raiding. ...and massacres of dissenters.

- A terrorist, then. А...

- Your parents actively opposed him. And one night, Voldemort came to their house. And disappeared.

- Oh, yeah?

- Two bodies were found in the house-- your parents. You, in a wheelchair, with a scar on your forehead. And that was it.

- What do you mean?

- There was nothing left of Voldemort. He disappeared, and everyone assumed he was dead.

- What do you mean, nothing? - Harry was genuinely surprised. - If he's dead, there's a body.

- If he was disembodied...

- In his clothes?

Lucius rubbed his forehead.

- That's right... But no one knows precisely what happened there. Everyone assumes Avada Kedavra bounced off you, hit Voldemort, and destroyed him.

- Does that ever happen?

- It hadn't before.

Harry rubbed his forehead. The scar... ...yes, a scar...

- And I had a scar on my forehead? Not a wound?

Now Lucius rubbed his forehead.

- In the collographs, you had a scar everywhere.

- Who found me first?

- Albus Dumbledore.

Harry sighed. Adjusted his glasses.

- That's something to think about. И? What does Professor Two-Bulldog have to do with my notoriety?

- It was all over the papers that you were the reason Voldemort unfolded.

- Nonsense. Because of the baby?

- You see, Henry," Lucius smiled evasively, "I supported Voldemort. When he disembodied, the other side was the first to arrive, and they didn't share the information with us.

- But they shared it with the rest of the world. The idiots.

Harry looked grim. Publicity? That kind of publicity?

Fuck it!

He wouldn't mind the fame, but it was earned, not like this. They declared the baby a hero, and that's that. Assholes! Not even like that! You're evil!

- And because this tyrant did or did not kill me, I'm considered a hero?

- Pretty much, Mr. Potter.

- And they expect me to do great things?

His response was two smirks of snide adult smile and a chuckle from Draco.

Ugh.

***

Strangely enough, Snape even calmed down as they sat in the cafe. He was more or less relaxed on the way back. Especially since...

Harry timidly touched him by the sleeve after the crossing, already in Little Wiggling.

- Sir...

- Yes, Mr. Potter.

- I wanted to apologize, sir.

Snape almost felt sick to his stomach. An apologetic Potter? Maybe it really wasn't Avada; it was a tree.

- Э...

- I shouldn't have planted that smoke bomb on you. But... I'm used to a different manner of speaking.

Snape took a deep breath. To be fair... well, yes, he hadn't been the paragon of politeness this morning either. But talking to stupid students day in and day out... You'll growl at the world!

- Mr. Potter, I accept your apology. Where did you get the smoke bomb?

- I made it myself.

- Did you?

- It's relatively easy.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1dMpLXwTIPo - The authors warn you that your fingers and ears are your own. No spare.

Snape returned home in a strange state of mind. He also knew for a fact that he wasn't going to tell anyone about the day. No need to...

Especially not to some white-bearded old man. He'd get over it.

***

Liz listened to Harry and shook her head doubtfully.

- Harry, this is bad.

- I understand.

- Let's speculate together, shall we?

- Miss Holmes?

- Mr. Watson," Liz, a great chemistry lover, also liked detective stories. Especially the ones about logical thinking. Well, and Mr. Holmes - almost a colleague, after all..... - Let's see. There was a scarecrow of Britain, wasn't there?

- It was called Voldemort.

- Then he was killed by a baby in a way no one can find the end.

- If the likes of Mr. Snape and Mr. Malfoy don't know...

- Exactly. One a teacher, the other a loyal follower, and from a wealthy family?

- Lord Malfoy. That's what Draco said.

- I mean, he's supposed to know. But he doesn't know. Neither does anyone else. So what's the winning side supposed to do?

- Classify the results until we find out.

- Exactly! Instead, the whole world gets a ruckus. You're put in the papers; only the blind and deaf don't know about you. What's it like?

- Fishing for bait.

Harry wasn't into fishing. But Holmes...

- Congratulations on your significant role as bait.

- Pestilence," Harry grumbled. - What are you going to do now?

- What can you do?

The question was a perfectly ordinary one. Liz had never given direct answers in her life. Guidance, yes, help, encouragement, but Harry had to think for himself. End of story. A chemist's mind was given to the task.

- Gather as much information as possible. That's a first.

- Well done. How?

- Newspapers, magazines, talks, but be careful. Better with children; they know a lot but don't understand much.

- And you already know how to analyze. That's good. What else?

- Be careful.

- Good girl.

- Keep quiet about everything. About you, too. Yes?

Liz sighed heavily.

- I'm afraid our friendship wasn't part of their plan.

- Whose plans?

- That's for you to find out.

You couldn't say Harry was happy about that. But he didn't have a choice...

***

The textbooks arrived two days later - and Harry took them to Liz's before his uncle and aunt threw them away. After glancing through them, the friends agreed it wasn't good enough. And a second visit was made to Snape.

This time Harry followed more closely to the wizarding world - and returned home laden with almost a dozen more books.

For the third time, they went shopping together with Liz. They got a lot of alchemical ingredients.

Also...

They were allowed to bring an animal with them to Hogwarts. И...

How could you resist?

When you walked past a little pet shop, you could hear growling, meowing, squeaking, hissing and other noises?

How can you not go in?

So Liz offered to buy him a pet. So he wouldn't forget her at Hogwarts. Harry would remember, with so many tasks to do... but a pet of his own? He hadn't had one before...

Harry dismissed the cat and the dog at once. Uncle and aunt wouldn't tolerate them in the house.

A bird? With their perpetual incontinence and constant cawing? And... ...they didn't exactly inspire Harry.

A snake? Liz was already against it, telling him he had enough creepers in his life already.

But a rat...

Harry liked rats immediately. Small, curious, amusing, looking with sparkling beady eyes.

Harry decided on a splendid black-and-white rat with an upturned dark 'V' on its face and a dark mohawk crest. And he's called Chemist! Mick, for short!

However, he required food, chew sticks, toys and a giant cage, which we decided to put at Liz's for the time being. Harry was pleased and happy.

*The authors warned - rats are kept in same-sex pairs, so the cage must be giant.

And then, it was time to head off to Hogwarts.

Snape instructed Harry where to report to and what to do, so at the appointed time, Harry showed up at King's Cross station alone with a small suitcase.

Uniforms, books, including some on alchemy, notebooks to take notes, a small bag of reagents - and Liz had promised to send more if needed. Harry was sure he would find a way to contact her.

Platform nine and three-quarters...

Harry looked around carefully; he had never been here before. At that moment, a group of people walked right behind him, and he caught a few words from their conversation:

- ...crammed with Muggles, of course...

Harry turned around sharply. It was a fat woman talking to four boys who said this. All of them had fiery red hair. Each of them was pushing a cart in front of them with an enormous suitcase, no match for Harry... and they had an owl!

Yep. Wizards pulling up to the platform. Shall we hitch? Actually, we could. A bunch of kids, after all, so we can start gathering information.

Harry pushed his cart behind them. They stopped him, too, close enough to hear what they were talking about.

- So, what's the platform number? - The boys' mother asked.

- Nine and three quarters! - squeaked a little girl, also red-haired, who was holding on to her hand, - Mum, can I go...?

- You're not old enough yet, Ginny, now be quiet. Come on, Percy, you first.

The lad, who looked the oldest among the boys, staggered towards platforms nine and ten and quickly disappeared through the wall.

- Fred, you're following," said the fat woman.

- I'm not Fred. I'm George," said the boy. - Honestly, woman, and you still call yourself our mother? Can't you see I'm George?

- Sorry, George, darling.

- Just kidding, I'm Fred," said the boy, and moved forward. His twin shouted after him to hurry up, and apparently, he did because a second later, he was gone, just as Mr. Snape had told him.

Now the third of the brothers was briskly heading for the barrier - he was almost there and was gone too.

- Excuse me," Harry turned to the full woman.

- Hello, darling," she said. - First time going to Hogwarts? Ron's new too.

She pointed to the last and youngest of her sons. He was tall, skinny, unkempt, freckled, with big hands and feet and a long nose.

- Yes," Harry said.

- Do you know how to get to the platform? - she asked kindly, and Harry nodded. Let them think he was a dolt.

- 'Don't worry,' she said, 'All you have to do is go straight to the barrier between platforms nine and ten. Don't stop, and don't fear crashing into it; it's imperative. If you're nervous, it's best to do it quickly. Go on, get in front of Ron now.

- Er... okay," Harry replied. Play the rookie and the dumbass?

He turned his trolley around and stared blankly at the barrier. Harry walked towards it. And closed his eyes a second before his nose should have made contact with the stone wall.

But there was no collision, and he opened his eyes.

A bright scarlet steam train was waiting beside a platform full of people. A sign at the top read: "Hogwarts Express, eleven o'clock." Harry looked around and saw a wrought iron archway in place of the barrier with the sign saying "Platform nine and three quarters." He made it.

The smoke from the steam locomotive floated over the heads of the humming crowd while cats of all sorts of colours scampered under people's feet. Owls hooted irritably at one another through the hum of voices and the creaking of heavy suitcases.

The first few carriages were full of students, some hanging out the windows to talk to their families, others vying for seats. Harry pushed his trolley across the platform, looking for an empty chair. He passed a round-faced boy who said:

- Bah, I've lost my toad again.

- Oh, Neville," he heard the older woman sigh.

A small crowd had gathered around the boy with the dreadlocks.

- Let us see it, Lee; come on!

The boy lifted the lid of the box he was holding, and everyone around him squealed and squealed as something stuck out a long hairy paw from inside.

Harry squeezed through the crowd until he found an empty compartment almost at the end of the train.

Great. This is where we'll stop.