God Help the Outcasts

By Ammie Hawk

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.

AN: Okay, so this chapter has been playing in my head for awhile, it just didn't want to go on paper. But here it is. Enjoy.

Chapter 2

Harry woke the next morning to the sun streaming into his eyes. He blinked a few times and rolled over, taking in his unfamiliar surroundings. As he located his glasses, the events of the previous evening filled his mind. That's right, he'd snuck out of the motel his uncle had stopped at and had been picked up by a strange man, something Snape.

With that thought, he scrambled out of bed and made his way down the stairs. He found Snape seated at the kitchen table, a newspaper in one hand and a cup of what smelled like coffee in the other. As soon as he entered the room, the paper lowered and dark eyes met green.

"Good morning, Harry," he greeted, folding the paper meticulously and placing it on the table in front of him.

"Morning," the boy replied quietly.

"Sit," Snape motioned to the chair across from him, as he got up from his own. "After you have eaten, we will be going to speak with your aunt and uncle."

"O-okay," he bowed his head, he was going to be in so much trouble.

"Eat," the man set a plate of food in front of him. "And while you do that, a letter arrived for you."

His head jerked up so fast, he was surprised he didn't strain anything. He couldn't believe it. But there it was, held between the man's long fingers. An envelope, addressed in green ink:

Mr. H. Potter

Guest Bedroom

Spinners End

Cokeworth

With trembling hands, he reached out to take it at last. He broke the wax seal, and pulled out the letter. His eyes scanned the page as Snape retook his seat.

HOGWARTS SCHOOL of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY

Headmaster: ALBUS DUMBLEDORE

(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chief Warlock, Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)

Dear Mr. Potter,

We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment.

Term begins on September 1. We await your owl by no later than July 31.

Yours sincerely,

Minerva McGonagall

Minerva McGonagall

Deputy Headmistress

"But-but magic isn't real," Harry shook his head.

"Is it not?" a dark brow rose incredulously. "Have you never noticed strange things happen when you are scared or angry?"

Green eyes turned to stare at his hands. Now he came to think about it… every odd thing that had ever made his aunt and uncle furious with him had happened when he, Harry, had been upset or angry… chased by Dudley's gang, he had somehow found himself out of their reach… dreading going to school with that ridiculous haircut, he'd managed to make it grow back… and the very last time Dudley had bullied him in public, hadn't he got his revenge, without even realizing he was doing it? Hadn't he set a boa constrictor on him?

"I see that you understand," Snape smirked. "Now, eat."

The boy picked up his fork obediently and began to eat the food in front of him, which was surprisingly still warm. When he had eaten his fill, which was only about half of what he'd been given, his gaze shifted to his host, who was once again reading the newspaper.

"What did it mean," he asked tentatively, not wanting to interrupt his reading, but his curiosity was eating him alive, "they await my owl?"

"Owls are how the wizarding community sends post," the man answered, glancing over the top of the paper. "If you wish to attend Hogwarts, I will send my owl to Minerva with your response, once we have spoken with your relatives."

"Oh, okay," Harry lowered his head, he really didn't want to go back to the Dursleys, but he couldn't exactly tell his man that.

"Are you finished eating?" Snape asked, folding the paper once more.

"Y-yes, sir," he nodded.

With a nod, Snape stood up and made his way around the table. When he reached the boy, he extended his hand, which Harry took rather reluctantly. He pulled him to his feet and, with the same squeezing sensation from the night before, they disappeared from the house.

They appeared in a small alley, next to the hotel, and Snape released Harry and led him around to the front entrance.

The pair made their way inside and Harry almost immediately spotted his relatives sitting at one of the rickety tables the hotel sported, eating breakfast. He took a quiet, deep breath and began heading in their direction. As they reached the table, two sets of eyes lifted to regard them curiously before their expression turned stony as they landed on the boy.

"There you are," his uncle snarled. "You're late. I suppose you got lost on the way down the stairs. Had to ask for help, did you? Well, sit down, you've wasted enough of this man's time."

The bespectacled boy hurried to a seat beside his overweight cousin, and sat down. He wasn't sure what his uncle really thought, but it was obvious he knew he hadn't been up in his room with Dudley. It was also apparent that he wasn't going to cause a scene as long as the other man was present.

Beady eyes turned to Snape once Harry had done as instructed, "I do apologize for my nephew, he is quite… disturbed."

The man said nothing to this as his dark eyes shifted between each of the Dursleys. After a moment, he grabbed a chair from the next table and sat down beside the lone raven.

"I'm sorry," Aunt Petunia frowned. "It is quite rude of you to presume you can sit here. My family and I are trying to enjoy our breakfast in peace."

"I noticed, Petunia," he sneered slightly. "However, before I leave your nephew in your care again, there are a few things that need to be discussed."

"Who the hell do you think you are?" Vernon snarled, his beady eyes darting nervously around the empty dining area.

"Forgive me," his tone showed his utter lack of actual contrition, as he surreptitiously pulled his wand and cast a nonverbal privacy spell around them, "I am the Potions Professor at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, where young Harry has been invited to attend, and as of this morning, has accepted. You may call me Professor Snape."

"Snape?" the blonde practically screeched. "Snape?! Not that dratted boy who filled my sister's head with all that foolish nonsense?"

"I would not call the truth foolish nonsense," a dark brow rose in challenge. "But it is good to know that you do in fact remember me. Now, as I was saying, the boy will be attending Hogwarts in September, and I will personally take him to get his school supplies at the end of the week."

"He's not going," the fat man snarled.

"As if you could stop him," Snape scoffed. "You can't even seem to keep him confined to a motel room for a single night."

"We swore when we took him in we'd put a stop to that rubbish," said Uncle Vernon, "swore we'd stamp it out of him! Wizard indeed!"

"You knew?" Harry spoke up. "You knew I'm a—a wizard?"

"Knew!" shrieked Aunt Petunia suddenly. "Knew! Of course we knew! How could you not be, my dratted sister being what she was? Oh, she got a letter just like that and disappeared off to that—that school—and came home every vacation with her pocket full of frog spawn, turning teacups into rats. I was the only one who saw her for what she was—a freak! But for my mother and father, oh no, it was Lily this and Lily that, they were proud of having a witch in the family!"

She stopped to draw a deep breath and then went ranting on. It seemed she had been wanting to say all this for years.

"Then she met that Potter at school and they left and got married and had you, and of course I knew you'd be just the same, just as strange, just as—as—abnormal—and then, if you please, she went and got herself blown up and we got landed with you!"

Harry had gone very white. As soon as he found his voice he said, "Blown up? You told me they died in a car crash!"

"A car crash, Petunia?" the Potions Master sneered. "Have you really become so bitter that you would belittle your sister's sacrifice by claiming she died in a car crash? I will give you the week, Petunia Evans, to tell the boy the truth. If you do not, I will be forced to tell him myself. And if it comes to that, you can mark my words, I will make your life, your very existence, most unpleasant. With that, I bid you good day. Harry, I will see you at the end of the week."

That being said, he rose from the table and made his way out of the motel. The Dursleys were practically quaking in their seats out of fear. Green eyes turned questioningly to the two adults, hesitant to ask the multitude of questions racing through his mind, knowing he probably wouldn't get an answer anyway.

After several excruciatingly tense minutes, the Dursleys seemed to pull themselves together. Duel glares landed on the raven, making him gulp audibly.

"Go upstairs and gather your things, boy," Vernon snarled. "We're leaving in thirty minutes."

Harry could do nothing but nod, as he pushed hastily to his feet and scurried up the stairs. When he gained the room he was sharing with Dudley, he went over to the bed he'd claimed the night before. He hadn't unpacked anything the previous evening before he'd snuck out, so all he had to do was grab his duffle. It was as he turned back toward the door that an icy chill went down his spine and a heavy weight settled in the pit of his stomach. Uncle Vernon had sent him to get his stuff, but Dudley had not come up with him.

He raced to the room's lone window and looked out into the parking lot. He was just in time to see the Dursleys car pull out of the parking lot. He sank to his knees as the reality of what was happening hit him. After all the times of threatening to do so, his family had actually left him.

Tears ran down his cheeks as he curled in on himself. What was he supposed to do now? He was all alone in a strange place, with no money and no one that he knew.

How long he sat there, he didn't know. After awhile, the owner came and knocked on the door, telling him he had to leave.

With one final sniff, he got up and shouldered his bag. He could do this. If nothing else, he could walk back, right? It couldn't be that far to Surrey.

As he reached for the handle, another option popped into his head. Snape lived in the area. Well, he assumed he did anyway, not that he actually knew where he lived, having only traveled to and from there magically. But that aside, he knew Aunt Petunia and could probably get him back to Privet Drive.

With that thought firmly in his head, he opened the door and stepped out of the room.

"Excuse me," he said quietly, "but could you please tell me how to get to Spinners End?"

Ammie: I know, I know, this is an exceedingly short chapter, but that is where it wanted to end. I'm confident that after this,things will pick up and get more meat in the chapters. Anyway, please let me know what you think.