AN September 2019 I've rewritten parts of this first chapter, the first of many changes to come. I'd love to know what you think.

Summary: Severus Snape likes to think of himself as a clever man. Youngest British potions Master in over a century, a teacher consecutively turning out only the best students from his NEWT classes. Enter one Harry Potter about to turn his world upside down.

It is 1991, and suddenly he is being outwitted by, and growing irrationally fond of his childhood bully's spawn. Caring for him, even. And meanwhile, there is a mystery surrounding the new friend he has made—one who knows far more about Severus than he is comfortable with, considering them having met in a Muggle gay pub. If he were a clever man, he'd ignore both of them.

Severus is slowly coming to realise he isn't anywhere near as clever as he thinks.

Tags: MoD!Harry. Slash. SS/HP Pairing, (includes some SS/OC sex and one HP/SS/CW in '94). Slow plot. Realistic relationships. AU world-building/Harry's past deviates from canon.

Warnings: Vulgarity, Explicit R18 gay sex, grey-consent, highs and drug use, mentions of underage sex, unhealthy coping mechanisms, depression, people being human and making mistakes.

Inspired by: For voice: Athey's Again and Again, Hweianime's Be the Death of me, and Sarah Rees Brennan's In Other Lands. For plot: Bluemaple's HP and the Road not Taken, FalconLux's The Dead Master, and Enchanted Nightingale's The Housekeeper.

Caveat: This fanfiction breaks the usual 'romance' patterns; it is not a fairy tale. Harry and Severus both come from abusive homes and have issues.

Childhood abuse and redemption-through-romance fanfiction is rarely realistic. My story has been inspired by my experiences, and the trauma of some very close friends. (If you're a friend who confided in me, please don't read this.)

xoxox Thank you Eider Down for betaing xoxox

It was impossible to point out where exactly the beginning was.

Perhaps it was with a young seer in a seedy pub, ordering sherry to calm her nerves before what might be the most important interview of her life.

Maybe it was before that, when a young Slytherin, convinced that four bullies were up to no good, went sneaking out after dark and almost got mauled by a werewolf. Before that even, on a playground, watching an angel of a girl floating off the swings.

Possibly it was in the more recent past, when a potions master found himself begging for a second chance, at endless trials proclaiming I was young, I was stupid, I made a terrible mistake. Please.

In all likelihood the beginning was here. In the middle. This ending of the first in a long line of thoroughly wretched days.

Book One: Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone

Severus knew, from the first time he laid eyes on the boy, that he hated him.

Albus had evidently wasted all these past years chasing loose ends, hoping to find the baby he'd left on a doorstep.

Secretly Severus had been glad Potter had never reached the Dursleys. He wasn't so naive to believe the hateful, bitter, resentful Tuney Evans would have mellowed with age.

But the boy was here now, obviously safe. He looked just like his father.

Severus was grateful he hadn't been involved in Albus' search for the thrice-forsaken Harry Potter.

Minerva called the child's name then, and looking rather like he was basking in his moment, Potter strutted the short distance to the stool. Severus felt his lip curl into a sneer.

The hall filled with whispers—hundreds of voices building into a crescendo like a wave crashing under its own weight.

The hat-brim opened to utter silence.

SLYTHERIN.

Severus was already clapping half-heartedly when it caught up to him. Slytherin.

Slytherin? Was the hat mad?

Potter, the boy who lived to be one of Severus's snakes—and though Severus hadn't thought it possible he suddenly hated the brat so much more.

Polite but restrained applause accompanied Potter's flounce to the Slytherin table, where he slid onto the bench across from Draco Malfoy.

This was going to be a long seven years.

xoxox

Throughout dinner ("And how was your summer, Min—" "Oh, I do love to see all their happy little face—" "W-w-well, you see, th-there were these v-va-vampires—") Severus cultivated a careful plan: he would ignore Potter's spawn to the best of his abilities.

For seven years.

It was, admittedly, not the best plan, but his Dark Mark kept twinging, and Quirinus' prattle was deeply annoying, and why must Pomona be so excessively happy? It was downright distracting.

What was it they said about plans? Something about not surviving contact with the enemy? But that was a muggle saying, and he had his Occlumency to help him.

Severus stepped into the Slytherin common room, and the first thing his eyes did was seek out Harry Potter.

It couldn't be helped. Up close Severus could see those eyes, bright green, taking a careful look around. Just like Lily's, his mind provided oh-so-helpfully.

A school of minnows was flashing past the porthole windows and Potter turned to watch them, snubbing Draco in the process. There were ink stains on Potter's grimy little hands, and his robes were the Malkin standard—the rest of his snakes had chosen to wear finer dress robes for this night of first impressions.

Potter had the arrogant aloofness down pat, inherited from his father no doubt, ignoring the rest of his classmates to better take in the view. Already the older students were watching him with speculation, and Severus could tell that his Slytherins were finding this boy quite…lacking.

He was going to be eaten alive. Not that Severus cared, really. Well, there was that vow, of course, but stopping some schoolyard bullying wasn't what Severus had meant when he'd sworn to protect Lily's son.

Severus stepped out of the nook from which he'd been observing—not hiding, never that. A mere boy couldn't intimidate Severus Snape into cowering by a trick door. The upper years who weren't settling into their dorms had gathered around, watching, waiting.

Circling like eager sharks.

Meanwhile the first years were pretending they weren't huddled in their midst, practising their masks in the face of their trembling terror.

Except for Potter again, who'd spun around to look at Severus' covert entrance. This alerted Draco—and therewith everyone else. So much for swooping in and startling the children.

And now he was letting an eleven-year-old child upstage him. Pathetic. Utterly pathetic.

Severus affected calm, because if Slytherin had taught him one thing it was to pretend. He delivered his usual speech on the nature of house pride, Slytherin integrity, and not being an embarrassment. He finished with an invitation to consult with him, his office hours, and a sarcastic wish for their pleasant night.

Unfortunately Potter had seemed to catch that, and found it funny. Somehow Severus' satisfaction fell in correspondence with the boy's smirk. As if the child had any kind of power over him. Severus strode out again quickly, his robes billowing. Then he disillusioned himself and snuck right back in again.

While Slytherin must by necessity be civil outside the dorms, tonight would be war.

xoxox

Each Slytherin had a private room, unlockable by a simple Alohamora. Most children were mean, spiteful, jealous, greedy—every one of these knew how to cast unlocking charms. It was left to the students to ward themselves safe.

It was a perverse tradition endured by each successive generation, hearkened back upon fondly by the meanest of them all. Any attempt to abolish it would result in Severus being laughed out of the room. Besides, this ritual from the Founders' days prepared the children for the ugliness of the world.

Severus could not—would not—prevent the heartache, thievery, blackmail and punishment that would occur tonight. But he made sure to protect every one of them from one particular fate. They were children, after all. They should be able to keep their innocence.

By the time he reached the first year boys' dorms he was approaching magical exhaustion. Least at-risk, he always saved them for last. And if he intended to throw up a few extra protections for Draco and Potter, nobody would know.

Draco's wards weren't bad—Lucius had been tutoring his son all year. A competent sixth year could disassemble them, but likely nobody would deliberately antagonise the Malfoy heir. A quick intent-alert ward was all Severus added.

And then came Potter's room, surrounded by a web of protective magic so strong it was almost glowing. A diagnosis showed very advanced, elegant wards on par with Severus' own casting, and though they weren't deadly they were definitely malicious.

Ingrown hairs, boils in unfortunate places, strip-and-freeze…there were more, but Severus was too exhausted to care. Potter had come knowing about Slytherin's traditions, had expected his placement in this house. Severus found himself revising his earlier opinion, suddenly wondering if this boy wasn't perhaps the most Slytherin-ready of them all.

Somewhere between relieved and exhausted, Severus resigned himself to brewing another batch of Boil Cure before tomorrow morning. He leaned against the wall and started to weave his own usual intent wards into Potter's matrix.

Then the door opened, and Lily's eyes were staring right at his own disillusioned form. Potter closed his eyes and frowned—dunderhead, why would he do that?—before the brat pulled out his wand for a wards diagnostic.

As Severus had stopped casting when the door opened, his spell was slowly collapsing, failing to take root in Potter's complex web. Like a disappointing cake, minutes out of the oven.

Wonderful. This was not his night.

Potter's wand flicked back into a quick-draw holster—then the boy held out a package he had pulled from his pocket. Stunned, Severus took it, absently wondering how bizarre this must look. The muggle cardboard box in his disillusioned hands proclaimed Nike Shoes, 50% Sale! Size 8, but gave nothing away.

The boy spoke, voice lilting. "I do appreciate it Professor Snape, but my own wards will cover all kinds of ill intent, including that. The only thing I apparently wasn't prepared for was someone improving my wards." And the spawn of his enemy smiled at him in a wry, self-deprecating way.

Severus was glad he was disillusioned, so that nobody could witness his own incredulous expression. Not to mention the fact that his mouth had been gaping. He rectified this immediately, teeth clicking shut.

Potter was still talking, "If it's important to you that I have that particular ward up, I can cast it myself from the schematics? I can't imagine the drain of warding every student's room."

Severus nodded absently, realised that he was disillusioned—and then remembered that he hated the boy. But Potter was smiling again, warmly this time. "Thank you, Professor. If that's all, I'd like to go to bed now. I wish you a good night, sir."

He stared. The boy stood there, head cocked adorably—by Merlin where had that thought come from?—head cocked questioningly, that quirked smile directed right at Severus. After a minute, Potter nodded politely, almost a bow actually, and closed his door.

Severus shook himself. Potter was bizarre. Scruffy image, excellent perception and advanced wards were one thing, but manners? Since when did Potters have manners, the odd antiquated kind preserved by the British pure-blood aristocracy, and involved bowing to people?

At a loss and for lack of anything better to do, Severus returned to his rooms and opened the shoe box. It contained neat racks of vials, hand-labelled Boil Cure, Hair Regrower, Exfoliator—three rows each to cure every ugliness Potter's wards would inflict.

He popped a seal at random and sniffed. It was perfect, better than most apothecaries would provide. Most likely, this was self-made.

Potter was an enigma, but he could take care of himself, was polite, and he'd been taught by a competent brewer. Perhaps having him in his house wouldn't be so awful after all.

xoxox

Due to losing the contents of my hard drive, all future chapters are going to have to be completely rewritten, and I am reworking the first eight chapters for your enjoyment. This work is bumbling along at an indeterminate schedule.

Feel free to check out my other fics in the meantime. Thank you all for your continued support.