Sammael dressed himself and his children like the nobility they were, in the finest robes that Britain had to offer. He'd even braided a thin circlet of platinum into Charis' hair, and draped a heavy silver amulet around Mo's thin neck. Mo wore a midnight blue set, while his sister wore a complimenting dark purple. Sammael himself wore silvery robes with green accents. Mo told him he looked like the elf king "Elrond".

Sammael wasn't aware that the High Elves still interacted with humans.

Besnik was shedding, irritable and messy. So he opted to sulking by himself under Sammael's bed rather than attending the ball with his human. Kai had no desire to accompany them to 'another boring wizard party'. Mo and Charis had been fitting Theo in a miniature robe set that matched Sammael's when the large clock above the mantel struck the time, alerting them that it was time to depart.

"Remember," Sammael told them sternly as he picked up the jar of Floo Powder. "Be on your best behavior, or you'll lose allowance, dessert privileges and screen time for a week. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes, Uncle MaeMae," Charis said dutifully, though her brother only nodded, looking curiously at the jar in Sammael's hand.

"This is a common method of wizarding transportation," Sammael informed them. "It's called Flooing. You just take a pinch and throw it in the fire, which connects you to the Floo Network, then you shout out the name of the place you wish to go. It's a little tricky the first time, so I'll go first to catch you when you come out." With that, Sammael handed the jar to Mo, only holding a small pinch in his hand. "Go after your sister, Timotheus," Sammael told him. "Malfoy Manor!" The flames roared green and Sammael stepped through.

Moments later, he was joined by Charis, who tripped a bit over the metal grate. Then Mo, who managed to perfectly land on his feet. Sammael smile at them. "Lord Slytherin," a smooth voice floated over to them. Sammael looked up to see Lucius striding over towards them.

"I thought I asked you to call me Sammael?" he smiled at the Malfoy Lord. "How are you, Lucius?" Lucius gave a genial smile and a graceful nod of the head.

"Very well, Sammael, thank you. I trust you and your children are still settling in nicely?" Sammael smiled and agreed that they were. "And what of your wife, will she be attending this evening?" Sammael frowned now.

"I apologize, Lucius," Sammael said with a hesitant smile. "But I never married. Charis and Timotheus are cousins of mine from America, who have recently been transferred into my care." Lucius nodded to show his understanding.

"It is I who should apologize," he said softly. "I shouldn't have assumed. Would you please follow me, this way?" The three Slytherin's followed the Malfoy head, Charis clutching her bear tight to her chest, and Mo holding his sister's hand. They were lead to a large, elaborate ball room decorated for the season with fairy lights and falling snow. Many people were already gathered and mingling. Lucius smiled down at the children. "If you would like, Sammael, there is a small party just for the children down the hall. I could have an elf lead them in that direction, if you would like?"

Sammael grinned. "Oh, that sounds delightful. A grand idea!" he turned to the children who were looking decidedly less enthusiastic. "Children, what say you? It would be a good opportunity to meet your future schoolmates."

Mo hesitated, "Of course," he said, biting down the sure, whatever that had sprung to his lips. Sammael had asked them to behave, which meant, Mo knew, to act like prissy Disney characters. "I'd enjoy meeting some new faces." Charis shrunk a little bit, and stepped closer to her brother, but she nodded as well.

Lucius snapped his fingers, and a house elf, dressed far more poorly than their Barg, appeared. "Dobby, show our guests to Draco's receiving room." But the little elf was staring at Sammael with something like adoration. "Dobby!" Lucius sad a little louder, obviously trying not to cause a scene.

"Mr. Harry Potter, sir," the little elf said in awe. Sammael frowned. To Lucius, it looked like he was confused as to why he was being called such a name. But in reality, Sammael was trying to figure out how the heck the little elf knew. "It is an honor, sir. Dobby has long wanted to meet you, Mr. Harry Potter, sir."

"Who?" Sammael asked, hoping his face was blank.

"I'm sorry," Lucius said. "I don't know what's wrong with him. Dobby, take the children to Draco." He hissed under his breath.

"Please," Sammael added, not wanting the elf to get in trouble for his understandable shock. Dobby froze at Sammael's manners, but then nodded his head eagerly, ears flapping about and eyes filling with tears.

"Of course, sir," Dobby said happily, now drawing stares from the other people in the room. "Anything for Mr. Harry Potter, sir!" And with that he begged the children follow him, and lead the way out of the room.

"I have no idea…" Lucius tried to explain, but Sammael only smiled.

"It's alright," Sammael said kindly. "Just, pray tell, who is this 'Harry Potter?'" Lucius sighed.

"He's a celebrity for the Light witches and wizards of Britain. I suppose you could call him a symbol of their victory over the Dark in the last wizarding war." Sammael nodded his understanding.

"And I look like him?" Sammael frowned.

Lucius took the opportunity to study the man's, admittedly gorgeous, face. "In passing, but no more. And besides, the Potter heir is but a child. Not even as old as my own son." Sammael smiled.

"How odd, that poor elf's mind must be addled."

"Yes," Lucius sighed. "I've been trying to talk my wife into replacing it, it's been growing more and more useless and clumsy. But she's convinced that it would be cruel to simply free it."

"I could buy it from you," Sammael offered. "I find it a funny little thing. And I already have my own house elves to do the house work." Lucius looked very grateful. All the while, Sammael couldn't help but notice the presence of one Severus Snape across the room, watching their every move.

******1047******

The children were led by the strange little elf to a large playroom, where a table was set up. Enchanted instruments played soft, happy music in the corner. And several other children were standing or sitting bout, talking or playing little games. The one Mo recognized as Draco stood up when they entered.

"At last," Draco gave Mo a smile that seemed a little uncertain. "I know we've already met, but let be reintroduce myself. I'm Draco Malfoy, and this is Theo Nott" he pointed at a brunette boy beside him who he had been eating jelly beans with. "This is Blaise Zabini" a tall dark, Italian looking boy "Vince Crabbe and Greg Goyle" he gestured to two rather dumpy boys sitting at the table eating cakes "Pansy Parkinson, Daphne Greengrass, Astoria Greengrass, Milli Bulstrode and Tracy Davis." Draco vaguely gestured to the girls who were sitting in the corner, quietly talking to themselves.

"It's a pleasure to meet all of you," said Mo with a bow. "My name is Timotheus Slytherin, and this is my sister, Charis."

"How old are you?" asked one of the girls, Tracy.

"I'm ten, and my sister is seven." Mo answered. "How many of you will be going to Hogwarts next year?"
"All of us," said the boy named Blaise in a drawl as he shifted through his pile of Berty Box Beans. "Except Astoria. She's a year younger. We'll all be going into Slytherin, obviously."

Mo smiled. "I expect to go there as well. Obviously." That got smiles from several people in the room.

"Would you like to join us?" Draco asked. "We're sorting the beans by color and seeing who gets the bad flavors." Mo smiled and went to go sit down.

"Sure," he said, grinning.

******1047*******

Harry happily read yet another one of the books that Severus had bought him. This one was about Ancient Runes, which Severus had told him he wouldn't be able to take until third year, but still, it was nice to see how much the wizarding world's understanding of Runes had progressed in the 900 year gap Harry was "gone". Surprisingly, it seemed like there weren't really that many advancements. Sure, there were new runes written, and different rules applied, but it was all basically the same, and if anything the new method was worse than the original.

But it was interesting nevertheless.

And if Harry was reveling in the feeling of being cared for like Salazar once did for Sammael, well, so what. He was ten, he had every right.

******1047*******

(Note: Time skip has occurred)

Severus never expected to come to care for the Potter boy. And yet, over the past year he found himself looking forward to the weekends, when he'd have the chance to visit the little brat. He found himself buying little somethings for Harry whenever he went shopping for potions ingredients. When one of the foolish first or second years blew up their cauldron, he couldn't help but think how much better Harry could have done.

And he'd been rewarded by watching the young boy grow from an anxious, nervous, abuse victim, into a healthy-looking young man who was confident in himself. But now, the school year was almost over, and it was time to start looking ahead past the summer and into the fall, when the boy he'd come to cherish would be attending Hogwarts.

As a former Death Eater, he would be expected by his associates to treat the boy like garbage. But he couldn't. He knew he couldn't, especially not after learning what Harry's childhood had been like. Severus knew he was probably the only adult in Harry's life that he trusted, and if Severus then turned around and began publicly humiliating him in class, it would destroy him.

It was a thoroughly depressed Severus that found himself in the Malfoy's tea room, during his weekly visit with Lucius. The Malfoy Lord was speaking about Lord Sammael, who had released yet another one of his groundbreaking books on the art of Runes. Sammael Slytherin had authored and published many books this year on topics varying from potion making, warding, magical creatures, bloodlines and rituals.

"…and we've apparently been doing it wrong for years!" Lucius finished up with a dramatic gesture of the head to show just how taken aback he was. "Severus. Severus? Severus, are you even listening to me?"

Severus blinked. "Yes of course, Lucius." Lucius sighed. "What?"

"Oh, don't give me that, Severus," Lucius admonished him. "We are friends, we have been since school. Merlin, you're my son's favored uncle. There's something weighing on you, Severus, for heaven's sake what is it?"

Severus hesitated. On one hand, Lucius actually was his friend. He truly believed in the Dark's ideals, which is why he even risked his and Lily's friendship in the first place, and it is only because of her martyrdom that he converted at all. For her. For her son. Their Harry. But on the other hand, Lucius was loyal to the Dark as well, and Harry was…oh, that's it! "I find myself in a bit of a…situation, old friend," Severus sighed, putting down his tea. "A year ago, Dumbledore informed me that he had been alerted to Dark magic use…at the residence of one Harry Potter." Lucius frowned but said nothing. "And so I went to check the brat," Severus paused and took a breath "I found no evidence of the dark ritual that Dumbledore had apparently been informed took place there, but I found something I consider far worse."

"What?"

"He was being abused, Lucius," Severus said quietly. "He was being starved and beaten and forced to work for his fat, lazy muggle relatives like a house elf. I…I went back the following day. And the next. And now…I visit him every weekend." Lucius groaned, but he understood. He was one of the few who knew of Severus' background. Severus could never leave a child, any child, in the hands of an abusive parent.

"And now you've grown fond of him?" Lucius guessed dryly. "Congratulations. You old bleeding heart." Severus winced.

"But what if," Severus chewed the thought over, then spoke again seeing his friend's curious expression. "Harry has an eidetic memory. He remembers Dumbledore abandoning him with the muggles. I'm the only one who shows him kindness, Lucius. What if we train him in our ways? The proper ways. He is a pureblood after all…sort of…He deserves to know his heritage regardless of the actions of…of his f-father." Lucius smiled at him, a true smile.

"Genius, Severus," Lucius told him. "Should our Lord come back, would be able to tell him that not only does he not need to ever worry about Harry Potter fulfilling that prophecy you spoke of that night," Severus winced "but that we have Dumbledore's prized lamb under our influence."

"Dumbledore can't know," Severus said. "that much is clear. It would compromise my own position, possibly get me thrown in Azkaban. And I'd never get to see him." Lucius patted his shoulder.

"What would your students say," Lucius wondered, "if they were to see what an old softy you've become in your old age."

"Pungo"

"OW!"

***1047***

"Careful now, my little one," Sammael gently guided Mo's hand, which was holding a delicate, ivory stirring utensil as they worked to brew a somewhat complex healing potion. "We use this stirring stick because the unicorn ivory is imbued with some of the Light's purest of magicks. However, the adder venom is dark in nature, and combining the two is dangerous if you aren't careful."

"Why d'you do it then, Mae?" Mo asked as he dropped in a sprig of rosemary at his uncle's prompting. "If you add light to dark, wouldn't that just cancel them both out?" Sammael beamed at him, and Mo ducked his head to hide how very pleased he was that he inspired that sort of pride in an adult.

"A very astute question, Timotheus," Sammael commended him. "However, you're thinking a little too, shall we say, black-or-white. What happens, Mo, when you mix the colors red and white?"

"You get pink."

"And yellow and blue?"

"Green?"

"And what happens when you light a candle in a dark room?"

Mo had to think for a second at that one. "That…depends, I guess? If it's a big room and a little candle, then the light doesn't get rid of all the darkness but if it's a little room and a big enough fire then it gets rid of the dark completely."

Sammael nodded encouragingly. "Now, combine the two processes. When you mix colors, there is just as much of each still present in the new hue, but combined to create something greater. When you put darkness against light, or light against darkness then one completely over takes the other, replacing it….unless it doesn't."

Mo frowned, not following.

"Grey magic, my specialty, takes pieces of light and dark and conjoins them to create something which is partly entirely its own and unique to every witch and or wizard, and partially something that is both or either light and or dark. Grey healing uses sacrifice magic, which is decidedly dark. However, Grey offensive magic is almost always emotional, which is light. And yet, the majority of Grey magic is simply innate, which is neither yet both." Seeing Mo's still uncomprehending expression, Sammael chuckled and placed a sealing spell on the now simmering potion.

"Child, the topics of the magical arts are deep and mysterious. Many a sorcerer spends decades trying to unravel it, and few succeed. Don't expect to gain shortcuts or miraculous epiphanies from a single lecture of mine. Go read a book or four." Sammael caressed the boy's cheek. Timotheus scowled, shoving Sammael's hand away.

It was something that confused Sammael. Despite the boy obviously enjoying it when Sammael expressed physical affection, he'd always act as though it embarrassed him. It stung, slightly, but Sammael ignored it and simply playfully ruffled Mo's hair instead. "Why don't you practice with your familiar? The greatest bonds between wizard and animal can lead to a form of astral projection that allows you to see through your familiar's eyes and control their movements."

"I can turn into Pooka?" Mo asked excitedly, hopping down from the stool he'd been perched on. Sammael shook his head negatively.

"What you're thinking of is called an animgaus transformation, which I will not allow you to attempt until I, myself, have mastered it. What you can do with Pooka is more along the lines of possession. It's very useful when you want to spy on somebody." Sammael winked and Mo chuckled. "Where is your sister? It's time for us to work on her runes."

"I think she's still bugging the House Elves," Mo said off handedly. "She's trying to convince them to teach her how to cook."

Sammael raised an eyebrow. "Eh? And, pray tell, how is that working out for her?"

"It's not."

"Heh."

****1047****

Severus apparated under the cloak of a disillusionment charm onto the walkway of Number 4 Privet Drive. His heart felt light as he strolled down the now familiar concrete and unlocked the door with a casual, practiced flick of his wand. He ignored Mr. Dursley's surprised spluttering when the door appeared to open and slam shut of its own accord and paid no heed to the many, many pictures which all featured the less important child of the household. Instead, he climbed up the staircase of the unnervingly immaculate house and down the hallway he went before stopping at the door of the smallest bedroom. It was only then that he showed any form of socially expected manners as he knocked twice on the wood of the door.

There was a clattering sound and the muted patter of bare feet on a carpeted floor just before the door swung open. A joyous cry of "Mister Snape!" was all the warning he had before a boney pair of arms were slung around his middle and the air was forcibly removed from his lungs. "I was just talking to Sitareh about you!" Harry beamed at him. "Where are we going today? Are we going back to the village? Or are we going to the Alley? Or a forest? Or that river you took me to last month or—" Severus silenced the boy with a gentle tap of his wand to Harry's lips. The child grinned ruefully when Severus released the charm.

"You're in desperate need of a hair cut, you ruffian," Severus drawled. "Afterwards, I shall consider dropping by Fortescue's in the Alley. However, we must discuss what you believe you shall need for your first year at Hogwarts, other than the items which shall be listed on the letter you'll be sent in July."

"I don't know what's gonna be on the letters, Mister Snape," Harry scrunched up his nose and Severus refused to think of it as adorable.

"Luckily for you, I do. Now, go put your shoes on Mr. Potter. I'll not have you running around acting like a homeless waif anymore than you already do."

"What's a waif?"

"You, ragamuffin, now shoo."

"Haha, you said muffin."