Disclaimer: See Chapter 1.

Author's Note: …at the bottom.

Friday, 10 January

Harry took a deep breath and steeled himself for the upcoming confrontation before he raised his fist to knock on the heavy door. He had easily fallen back into the rhythm of being at Hogwarts, dividing his time between playing the perfect poster boy, attending classes, studying in the library, and studying with Salazar in Slytherin's library. All had seemed fine until Snape had kept him after class today and instructed him to return after he'd eaten lunch. He wasn't sure what this was about, but given Snape's track record, he had a guess.

"Enter," the call came from within and Harry made sure his face was blank and his posture relaxed before opening the door. He closed the door behind him and tried not to flinch when he heard the lock snap into place and felt a silencing ward settle over it. That as much as confirmed his fears about the content of the coming discussion. Snape wasn't likely to worry about keeping it quiet if he wanted to talk about Harry's performance in class.

"Sit," Snape nodded toward the chair in front of his desk.

Harry's lips compressed as he fought the urge to comment scathingly on being ordered about like a dog, but he did as he was told. He knew that Snape wouldn't hesitate to assign him a detention or five and Harry worked hard to avoid detentions. Not only did the enforced manual labor bring unpleasant reminders of his life with the Dursleys, but he put a high value on his time here at Hogwarts. If he was going to put up with this place, he was going to get a better education out of it than what the curriculum offered and that meant spending as much time as possible studying, not scrubbing cauldrons or polishing trophies.

"Potter," Snape said after half a minute's staring had failed to garner a reaction from his pupil. "I stopped by Privet Drive over break. I was somewhat surprised that you weren't there," he stated rather mildly.

Harry resisted the urge to gulp or fidget or glare as he took in the fact that Snape had actually gone to Surrey over the holiday to check up on him. Obviously, this was inconvenient for him and thus extremely annoying. Objectively, however, he was stunned that the man had gone to such lengths. This certainly wasn't the first time that someone had asked questions about his treatment with the Dursleys, but Harry had never seen anyone work so hard for the truth before. When he was young, a few platitudes from the Dursleys had been enough to shut them up. When he was older and wiser, the platitudes had come from him and saved him some very memorable beatings, but the would-be Samaritans had always been placated just as quickly. Despite caring enough to raise the topic, no one actually seemed to want to know the truth if it was bad.

Snape, evidently, was a different creature entirely. Harry could have used him five years ago – or even two. At this point, however, the man was just messing things up.

"I was probably at a friend's house," Harry shrugged, faking unconcern.

"On Christmas morning?" Snape asked doubtfully. "I thought you were eager to see your relatives. Why would you not join them for the happy occasion?"

Harry sighed, letting just a bit of his irritation through, "I hardly see how it's any of your business, sir."

Snape's brow rose skeptically, "I'm your teacher, Mr. Potter. I'm concerned for your welfare." The man didn't even try to make that sound believable, though Harry sensed that it might actually be the truth.

"And I've told you repeatedly that there is no call for concern, sir," Harry stubbornly pointed out. "I am very pleased with my life away from this school."

"Be that as it may, Potter," Snape said, his ire beginning to leak through into his tone and posture, "I know for a fact that you have not set foot in that muggle house since you learned of the wizarding world."

"Even if that were true," Harry scoffed, "I fail to understand how you could possibly know it."

"Your family told me," the man said coolly.

Harry couldn't resist a snort of disbelief at that. "They didn't," he said with certainty. He was absolutely sure that the Dursleys would never… His eyes widened suddenly as he realized what must have happened. He eyed his professor much more warily. "Using legilimency against a muggle without permission of the Ministry is illegal," he pointed out cautiously. He'd learned that months ago when he'd first discovered that it was what Quirrell had been using on him – not that he could prove it.

Snape's brow quickly drew down and he was definitely looking unhappy now.

Harry stood uneasily, avoiding the man's eyes now. "Can I go, sir?" he asked abruptly.

An unpleasant smile turned up Snape's lips as he too rose from his chair, "It's not that difficult to get that particular permit, Potter. You can explain to me where you have been staying or you can explain it to Child Services."

Harry was decently convinced that the man was lying about the permit being easy to get. The threat, however, was properly terrifying. He was struggling to keep himself outwardly calm despite the fact his heart was racing and his chest felt tight, and he couldn't seem to get quite enough air into his lungs though he wouldn't let himself start gasping for breath in front of Snape. Some part of him wondered if he was having a panic attack.

He was at the door, then, though he couldn't rightly remember crossing the room. He gripped the handle and pulled, but it was still locked. He fought the urge to scream and yanked again. It opened the second time and he fled the room as quickly as he could.

Severus sighed heavily and sank back into his chair as his door swung shut behind the boy. He leaned his elbows on his knees and pinched the bridge of his nose hard. He was extremely disappointed in himself for losing his temper. Potter excelled at pushing his buttons, evidently without effort. That, however, did not excuse his abhorrent lapse.

Potter was clearly terrified of Child Services getting involved. With abuse as severe as he had seen through Petunia's memories, Severus didn't doubt that he wasn't the first one to notice that something was amiss. It was obvious that everyone else who had done had let the boy down. Harry probably expected that he'd end up back with the Dursleys or perhaps someone even worse.

He debated going after the boy, but decided that the child was likely to panic even more if Severus cornered him right now. The best thing he could do would be the give the child some space and take a calming potion before trying to discuss anything sensitive with the child again.

Harry had no idea how long it had been when he regained awareness of his surroundings. He wasn't even really sure how he'd gotten here, though he was pleased to see that he had managed to close himself into a bathroom stall before curling into a fetal ball and succumbing to what he was pretty sure had been a panic attack. He had no clear memories since leaving Snape's office, though he did have a vague recollection of walking down a corridor and he thought he was in the boy's room nearest the Potions Classroom, so with any luck he'd not been seen.

Merlin, he was exhausted. His whole body ached, his head felt stuffed full of cotton, and he was pretty sure he'd vomited the entire contents of his stomach. Some of it seemed to have made it into the toilet, but some was on the floor and his trousers.

"Fuck," he breathed, leaning against the wall and letting his legs and arms fall bonelessly to the floor. He couldn't believe he'd actually had a panic attack. After everything he'd been through in his life, he'd have thought that he'd have had one before if he was susceptible to such things. It was an appalling weakness. If he fell to pieces whenever something shocking and frightening happened, he was pretty sure that he'd never live to see adulthood. He'd already been in potentially mortal danger twice since coming to this school.

Thinking of that, did he really fear Child Services more than he feared a troll intent on killing him? He'd felt no panic at all when faced with that troll. He'd been able to think clearly all the way through, even when he was closed in its fist and potentially instants from a sudden and agonizing death. Threaten him with a foster home though, and he fell apart.

There was likely something disturbing about his psyche in that revelation, but he chose not to examine it at the moment.

He hated this feeling – this terror that filled him at the thought of being consigned to a magical version of the Dursleys. He knew that there was no guarantee that he'd end up with people like that. Actually, there was probably a good chance that his new guardians would be perfectly amiable people. Even best case scenario, though, he'd still be stuck with guardians. Nosy old sods that knew nothing about him, telling him what to eat and when to sleep and watching his every move. That was essentially the definition of parents, wasn't it?

Five or six years ago, he'd have given just about anything for a chance at that. Now? He couldn't imagine ever trusting anyone to "take care" of him. The idea didn't appeal to him at all. He knew how to take care of himself. He'd been doing it for most of his life. He had money and a place to live. He went to school and always excelled in his studies. He ate healthy, slept as much as he should and no more. He handled his own shopping just fine and cleaned up after himself. There was literally no need for him to have guardians. He had it under control.

And it wasn't like he would get away with sneaking off to Knockturn Alley again if he had guardians. They would probably even try to curtail what he learned. Merlin, what if they were "Light"? Or worse, what if they were Dumbledore's followers?

No, he wanted nothing to do with any guardians, and that wasn't just his paranoia talking. Even the best case scenario sounded like a nightmare.

That established, he now had to figure out what options he had if Snape did go to the Ministry with what he'd figured out. Harry didn't really think that he would, but he wasn't sure. The man had seemed shockingly concerned about Harry's home life ever since Halloween and he now had proof that he was right, even if it wasn't proof that he could use at the moment. Harry needed to figure out what options he would have, legally speaking, and then see what options he could create if he ignored the legality.

So… First stop…

Pushing himself up off the soiled floor, Harry listened carefully to make sure he was alone, then left the stall and drew his wand. He took a moment to focus and then carefully cast the laundering charm he'd taught himself before break so that he wouldn't need to go to the launderette. It was an excellent spell that had even the dirtiest clothes clean and sweet-smelling in seconds. The downside was that the two times he'd miscast the spell, he'd completely destroyed the item he was attempting to clean. Even Reparo hadn't been able to put the decimated material back together. He did not need to be returning to his dorm in shredded trousers.

The spell worked perfectly and Harry made haste out of the bathroom. Being in the dungeons, it took him only moments to find a parseltongue passageway to slip into, and from there it was only a few minutes' walk to Salazar's quarters.

As soon as he was in the library, he sat down at the table facing Salazar's portrait and looked up at the man somewhat desperately. When the portrait raised a curious eyebrow at him, he launched into a quick explanation of his situation.

Salazar nodded thoughtfully when Harry had finished. "I understand your concern. Unfortunately, given your fame, the odds are high that Dumbledore would intervene to either see you sent back to your filthy forsaken relatives or ensure that you go to an apostate family that reveres him. Either option would be detrimental."

Harry was pretty sure that Slytherin meant detrimental to the portrait's plans and not Harry's well-being, but he settled on merely casting a brief glare at the tabletop in front of him. Salazar was far too useful to alienate regardless of how Harry's pride smarted at being swallowed so often.

"You'll need to look up the applicable laws in the British Wizarding Tome of Law. It's a self-updating text kept apprised of even the smallest change to law, policy, or procedure."

Harry blinked in surprise, "You don't already have one? I mean, if it's self-updating…"

Salazar gave him that disappointed look that he always sported when he thought Harry should have been able to figure out an answer on his own. Happily, he did answer, which he sometimes did not in these instances. "It is very expensive, child," he drawled irritably. "The enchantments on it are considerable and they don't exactly become obsolete, so no one sells them secondhand. Furthermore, the British Ministry has only existed since 1707. The last heir of mine that had that kind of money at hand graduated in 1597. I do have a pristine self-updating copy of the Wizards' Council: Codes, Decrees, and Commands if you believe that may be helpful."

Harry frowned at the sarcastic portrait, but he was decently used to this kind of biting sarcasm and unrestrained censure when the portrait felt that Harry was being "idiotic". "Would the library upstairs have a copy?" he asked in a measured tone.

"They do," Salazar nodded. "It would be a useful item for you to acquire, however, as you will not always be within Hogwarts when you seek such knowledge. It is not possible to copy the enchantments that make it self-updating – at least, not with your extremely limited skill – but you've fortune enough to purchase two copies."

Harry just nodded. Salazar had already explained that it was Harry's duty as his heir to contribute to the library. It was heavily implied that his tutelage under Salazar would be impacted by his generosity. Harry didn't really begrudge the portrait. He basically existed solely to guide his heirs while they attended Hogwarts and he couldn't do that effectively without knowledge of the outside world, which he gathered primarily through the books in this library. The contents of everything in the library was assimilated into the knowledge of the portrait through the runes used to add them, which allowed him to remain an effective teacher throughout the centuries, and not only on ancient history.

"Excellent," Salazar nodded, satisfied. "So, in addition to ordering those books for yourself and for this library, begin your research in the library above. Educate yourself on everything you can find regarding the laws that apply specifically to underage wizards, particularly those regarding custody, of course. Next, transfer all of your most valued possessions to either your Abode or your shoulder bag and keep them on your person at all times so that you are prepared should the eventuality arrive that you need to disappear suddenly."

Harry swallowed, but nodded, committing the portrait's instructions to memory.

"Finally, write to your account manager at Gringotts and request a ledger of all your property holdings. You need to be aware of all of your options if the time does come that you need to fall off the map. We can discuss further options both legal and otherwise after we've both had a chance to become familiar with the applicable laws."

Harry nodded and was on the point of leaving when he felt like he was forgetting something. He paused with a frown and took a moment to sift through the rather significant pile of mental notes he'd acquired recently. He hit upon it after a few seconds and looked to the portrait again. "Rhast told me that he was a basilisk, but I don't really know anything about them…"

Salazar lifted a thoughtful eyebrow, then gestured to Harry's right. "The fifth shelf on that wall, third row up from the bottom, twelfth book from the left. It will tell you everything that you need."

"It's written in Latin," Harry observed irritably, though he kept his tone measured. Salazar became very annoyed when Harry said anything that he construed as "whining" about his studies.

"It will serve the dual purpose of educating you on your chosen topic and improving your understanding of written Latin," Salazar pointed out sadistically – at least, it seemed sadistic to Harry. He loved learning, but the amount of language studies Salazar had been pushing on him since their first meeting was a bit much, even for him. Still, the knowledge was incredibly useful. Until 1728 most books in Britain were written and published exclusively in Latin. At that point, the Ministry had intervened in one of their myriad attempts of embracing the Statute of Secrecy by "blending" with the muggles – which essentially equated to trying to act like them.

With a strained smile, Harry thanked the portrait and carefully copied the book Salazar had pointed him toward. He'd work on studying it later tonight if he had time. At the moment, he was much more concerned with figuring out how to protect himself against Child Services if the need arose.

Saturday, 11 January

"Harry? Are you okay?"

Hermione's hesitant inquiry drew Harry from his rather horrified stupor. He looked up blankly to find her and Neville both watching him with mild concern from across the library table. He been buried in the Tome of Law every free moment since the previous afternoon. Unfortunately, the book was too expensive to be taken out of the library, so he'd not been able to spend the night reading it as he'd have liked. Instead, he'd used the time to send to Flourish and Blotts for two copies of the book, but he wasn't likely to receive them until Wednesday or Thursday, so he was stuck using the school copy until then.

The book was not an easy read. Similar to what he'd learned a few years ago about muggle law, it may as well have been written in its own language. His vastly improved command of Latin actually helped quite a bit. There was a lot of terminology written in or derived from Latin and he was sure that without knowing Latin, it would have been almost prohibitively complicated. As it was, it took him much longer than he'd like to wade through the heavy text. It was well after lunch before he'd come across something that properly applied to his situation.

Now, he nearly wished he hadn't. What he'd found was leagues away from being pleasant. It was actually more in the realm of horrific. From the manner of the applicable laws, it was clear that the wizarding world viewed muggles much like helpless babes that needed to be sheltered and protected from those magicals who would abuse them. The horrific part was that there were no provisions made for those who truly were helpless children. From the looks of what he was reading, the Dursleys couldn't even be prosecuted for child abuse in the wizarding world. The most that could happen is that they could be tried through the muggle courts, but even that was unlikely given the number of bylaws and provisions afforded to the fucking muggles to protect them from the wizards. If sufficient evidence was found, Harry could be removed from their home, but it was unlikely they would ever be made to pay for what they'd done.

He was planning to pay them back personally, of course, preferably without any sort of law enforcement being aware of it, but that didn't change the fact that the laws were completely biased against their own people! It was disgusting.

"Do you have any idea how many laws and bylaws exist in the wizarding world for the sole purpose of protecting the muggles?" he asked incredulously.

Hermione frowned uncertainly. The morning after they'd returned to Hogwarts, she'd seemed to mostly bounce back from their argument on the train. She'd not mentioned anything more about it and, apart from a sudden absence of her scathing little remarks about the wizarding world, the subject had been dropped. Harry rather suspected that she was merely using the time to gather more information for her rebuttal. "I haven't really had a chance to read too much on wizarding law yet, no," she said cautiously.

"A lot," Harry hissed angrily, mindful of the fact that they were in the library. "Anyone would think they were helpless infants with the way our world caters to them."

"Well," Hermione said hesitantly, "they don't have magic. They are kind of helpless against wizards."

Harry sent her such a glare that she actually flinched back in her chair. "And here I'd been giving you so much credit for intelligence," he sneered.

Her eyes widened, but she said nothing.

"Harry," Neville interceded cautiously, "what are you saying?"

"I am saying," Harry nearly growled, "that the wizarding world does not seem to comprehend the fact that Muggles don't need magic to be dangerous. They are not helpless, and our propensity to treat them as such is unforgivable. Sure, there are plenty of Muggles that are perfectly amiable and perfectly harmless." He said when Hermione looked about to speak up. "There are also dangerous Muggles. Racist Muggles. Murderous Muggles. And the fact of the matter is that just that minority of Muggles are enough to outnumber the entire magical population."

"That doesn't mean that the majority of the muggles shouldn't still be protected," Hermione argued, though there was an undertone of wary uncertainty in his voice that hadn't been there previously when they'd argued. Harry figured she was getting used to losing arguments against him by now.

"What about protecting our own people from the muggles?" Harry all but growled at her. "How is that not a priority."

"But… our people have magic," Hermione frowned. "Why would they be in danger?"

Harry grit his teeth and fought down the urge to throw the very heavy Tome of Law at the naïve little girl. "A muggle with a gun is more dangerous than at least eighty percent of the wizarding world, Hermione, and that's only accounting for adult witches and wizards. What about children? Not only do we not know much magic, but it's literally illegal for us to use magic at all when we're not in school. It's double illegal if we use it in front of muggles. And even if we might get an exception for self-defense, what about those of us endangered by our own legal guardians?" he all but hissed in his fury, taking slight satisfaction from the way the muggleborn was paling. "How are we supposed to defend ourselves against people in our own home? People that our own government doesn't want to acknowledge could ever hurt us? What then?"

Deathly silence engulfed the table for a long moment before Hermione muttered a heartbroken little, "Oh, Harry…" with tears in her eyes as well as her voice.

Harry blushed slightly as he realized how much he'd exposed himself with that little rant. Shoving himself to his feet, he planted his hands on the tabletop and leaned closer to his companions on the opposite side. "This is all a secret," he warned in a deadly tone, then closed his book with a thump and snatched up the tome and his bag in search of another secluded corner of the library where he could continue his research away from Hermione's sorrowful gaze and Neville's pensive one.

While Hermione's ignorant bigotry made him increasingly inclined to distance himself from the annoying heathen, Harry couldn't help but feel increasingly satisfied with Neville's quiet thoughtfulness. Harry's initial assessment of the boy's potential seemed to be ringing true.

At the moment, though, all he wanted was to continue improving his understanding of the laws to which he was subject. He had a long way to go in fully understanding it all, but he was already becoming convinced that he would back Voldemort if the man ever showed himself again. Apart from the whole squib/muggleborn issue and the threat posed by the Illuminati, or whatever they called themselves these days, Harry was truly beginning to understand just how fucked up the wizarding world really was. Worthless bloody Light wizards!

This policy of coddling the muggles, Harry could only liken to the muggle's animal rights activists going about preaching about protecting the animals above and beyond human beings. But at least the muggles as a whole put humans above the animals. Light wizards had managed to push through laws that would allow the muggles to torment and even murder wizards – even wizarding children – with virtually no recrimination.

Well, maybe it was a bit unfair to compare muggles to animals, but it was accurate for the fact that so many wizards seemed to view the muggles much as the muggles viewed animals. Lesser beings, mostly harmless and certainly helpless against their evolutionary superiors.

With a sigh, Harry pushed those thoughts from his head. His reasoning was starting to become circular and it was getting him nowhere. For now, he needed to learn everything that he could about his legal options. Then Salazar would help him investigate his not so legal options. No matter what, he was determined that he would never go back to the Dursleys, and if he ever ended up under anyone else's guardianship, it was going to be on his own terms. If not, he was going to disappear.

He just had to figure out how to do that without getting caught by some magical means he didn't anticipate.

Author's Note: It's short, I know, and I've made you all wait so long. Terribly sorry about that. I'm afraid the universe conspired against the completion of this chapter. There were a number of issues that kept getting in the way of my writing it, notably, tendonitis, a smashed finger, several very serious headaches, and a trip to the ER. It's been a banner month for me.

Nevertheless, I am still alive, and still committed to this story. I will do my best to update again January 7th. If I miss that deadline, know that I will post again as soon as I am able.

Thank you so much, everyone, for your patience and for continuing to read and review this story. Hearing your thoughts, or merely that you liked the chapter, means a very great deal to me and it encourages me beyond anything else to keep writing.

Happy Holidays to all those who celebrate!