Snape dropped the very idea to wake William up. The young man let the situation be and spent the remain of the night locked in his lab.

That was a bad idea, with the mixture of coffee and cigarette in his blood: he grew angry too quickly and gave up easily.

The next few days were stifling from heat and both inhabitants of Broad Lane remained closed inside during the whole day and suffered from it anyway. Their life was interrupted again by another owl post. The Hogwarts letter with the traditional booklist had finally come.

'At last….' the potioneer mumbled, before he let the owl going out and folded the envelope next to his ward's bowl.

He hated shopping but Diagon Alley was far less horrible than the Muggle areas of London. Moreover, he needed other studies about the Wolfsbane potion, as he had run low of novelties on that matter. He would not give up that easily. Potions helped him to cope with his traumatic encounter with one specific werewolf…

While the young man was deep in thoughts, William went down from his room to the kitchen, to sit down as noiselessly as possible.

'Mail, for you,' the Raven said while scanning The Daily Prophet. The boy looked twice, he still was half asleep, and his blurry eyes met the envelope. He took it, tore it and read the usual booklist. He opened his mouth to say something but retrieved it. Instead of asking his guardian when they would go to Diagon Alley, he poured himself some tea and started to daydream, half back in his bed, half here in the living room.

He did not want to ask anything, in any case his guardian would not receive properly his demand.

Nevertheless, Snape wanted to get rid of Diagon Alley as soon as possible, to concentrate on other things. In addition, he wanted to have more material to continue his research and delaying the shopping time would not help his low patience to things in general. So, he booked their trip to the very afternoon. That decision was enough to wake up William at once, for he to come back to reality.

It was all new to William to go to Diagon Alley with an adult - apart from both times he had come with his late parents. What was new was he now went with an adult wizard.

What was not new was how people looked twice at him when they noticed who followed him. At the time when his parents went shopping with him, the wizard community felt in their right to scrutinize those Muggles - it was hard for them to ignore those judgemental gazes, while He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named was ruling Great Britain.

The following years, the scrutiny was hinted with pity, as some recognized William but seeing him on his own in that large area was a bit faulty - if he was all alone, it was because of the consequences of their beliefs. One thing they could not yet come over, accept as a problematic fact and to which they did not admit even after the end of the war.

Now, that Severus Snape himself went along the teenager was a novelty. Even though his guardianship was known to public, it had an impact on people's minds to see it as true.

'Get rid of your booklist,' mumbled the Potions Master under his teeth, while they were stuck in the crowd created in Floury and Blott's. William made his way through the different packs of people gathered in some bookshelves, now that he was taller, he had less difficulties to pick up the books he needed than when he first came here.

Then, the nightmarish queue to pay started and both guardian and ward deeply wished it to end as soon as possible. That was hell.

They only went to the Apothecary at the end of their trip - if one may say so.

The Eaglet peered at Snape, whose traits relaxed a bit somehow. That was like he found some peace during that dull obligation with all supplies from his field of specialization.

They purchased the boy's ingredients to fulfill his kit which had decreased because of his private lessons before the Raven studied with total concentration and knowledge the different cauldrons which were aligned and stored depending on their size, their material and quality.

William blinked hard while he read the prices - he never could afford any of them with his pocket money. He suddenly felt hot running through his veins and heating his neck to his cheeks - the warmth of shame. Yet Snape had made it clear, but the teenager felt so ill-at-ease to depend on him on that point.

Anyway, remember it's about security he thought to calm down his feelings and his heart beating fast.

Then, when they had made their choice on one specific cauldron, Snape told to the cashier to deliver it to Hogwarts. It was easier to do so and the potioneer did not see himself bringing such an item back in the Muggle area of London to his flat. Common sense and spying inclined to inspire a discreet profile, anyway.

As soon as both of them finished with the apothecary, they went out and both of them regretted because of the crowded main street, which had grown up through that small amount of time spent inside.

To add for their pain, they could not anticipate what came next. From the crowd one person distinguished himself and approached like a prey bird on Snape.

Snape who froze at once and went blank. He soon thought deeply inside he should have prepared himself for that kind of situation. He had but, without explaining himself it, lowered his guard and he cursed himself - Holy fig.

'Good morning Mr Snape,' Lucius Malfoy said in an onctuous voice, well-mannered, his cane in hand, a hand which was glovered.

William had frozen too and childly had half-hidden behind his guardian - as if Malfoy had not seen him.

Even though Snape had lost a bit of track, he recomposed himself in a fraction of second, he wore back his mask of detachment. Nothing had happened, then. That was all.

'Good morning, Lord Malfoy,' he replied in a neutral tone and slightly bowed his head politely.

The blonde man then had a glimpse at William, showed nothing to this acknowledgment, even though a some sort of smirk crossed his lips for a few seconds.

'Yes… Yes,' he muttered, then said in an intelligible voice 'I see that you have had the guardianship… How things are going so far?'

Indeed the man knew everything which occurred at the Ministry. As soon as he had been hired in the team of the schooling board Governors, he had ears everywhere, had the most recent news about any affair occurring between the walls of the Ministry. Nothing had been a surprise to the choice of whom was in charge of the whole judicial affair in the person of Bones. Malfoy perfectly was aware of the chess game running beneath it: Dumbledore had been behind all of it from the start, playing maliciously the leader of those fools supporting the inferiors from their kind.

Snape eyed at the boy, casted a non-verbal Mufflatio, asked William to wait for him at Fortescue's.

The Eaglet wanted to protest for the form but he reckoned the disadvantages of it, seemed to understand some dynamics and finally obeyed silently. He only nodded past Malfoy, having found back a bit of his education.

'At first, I thought something hard hit your head to accept such a silly thing… Knowing who you are… But, then I reconsidered the whole of it and applauded your move.'

The Potions master smirked knowingly, his arms crossed, his chin up like the proud man he was.

'Dumbledore thought it would be the best for me to trick everyone but he doesn't know that the whole situation would allow me to stay in his favors and later…' he trailed off and shrugged, as to let understand that only time would fix the breaking point.

Both of them did not want his return, mostly Malfoy who had fought to be where he was, but Snape knew - thanks to the Headmaster - that it was otherwise. The spying issue was to be prepared as soon as possible, and being Melbourne's guardian would be an excellent argument to prove He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named that he was loyal and made his best to trick the old man. Dumbledore was brilliant anyway - until the Potioneer found that was scary.

Malfoy had always respected his junior's intelligence and had been from those who supported the young Snape to reach the Dark lord. Yet, it had been a bit of a stroke of luck to play, as everybody knew the background from where Snape came from. That was why the first days as Death Eater had been tough for the potioneer. He first had to show his potential in order to erase his origins, and by so accomplish the lower tasks - such as eavesdrop Trelawney's prediction and ask Dumbledore to hire him as DADA professor.

Snape was still bitter about this. He had failed on both points and he never would forgive himself.

Nevertheless, Malfoy admitted he had been right to place his whole confidence on Snape who had been perfect on most of it: he had erased his poor condition on both manners and words, he had fulfilled all missions - the only time he had flawed was that ridiculous meeting when he had pleaded mercy for that Mudblood Potter. Ah, Malfoy reckoned that everyone had their own defaults, and that some sort of friendship his fellow Slytherin had been a peculiar one. It had been a surprise to him when he had witnessed this scene because he remembered what others had said about the day both Snape and née Evans had broken their relation. He could not imagine that years later, whereas this woman had married one of Snape's tormentors, the Raven would try to ask mercy for her to the most powerful man from Europe.

That was nonsense.

Or, the young man still had feelings toward her, despite what he said and claimed.

Silly thought.

Apart from that, Snape always satisfied the Lord and had accepted to be a spy for him. They could have succeeded if so the Potter baby had not existed… Regrets were regrets, past was past; and Malfoy needed to live the present day and prepare his future. Things were becoming better. He was successfully becoming the needed one at the Ministry, his reputation was on best omens, and he had a heir. A male heir. That was why he wished the Dark Lord would not come back. He wanted his son to live in a total peace whole his life and gain his own power and influence by himself (helped by his name though) the most honourable way possible.

Both (ex) Death Eaters chatted a bit, Malfoy happy that Snape fulfilled his role as spy and best man of confidence to Dumbledore, and Snape happy that Malfoy believed in him blindly. Perfect.

Soon, the professor bade goodbye and joined William at Fortescue's.

The young man found out the boy as he had expected. William had chosen a seat at the terrace and was quite elsewhere, blank, not moving a single muscle and certainly his tea had turned cold. Snape went inside, ordered a coffee and joined back the teenager. He sat at the table opposite from the boy and waited for him to come back on tracks.

However William was not in the mood at all. He merely watched the flow of people passing by without watching closely. Snape knew that kind of temperament: everytime the student was so much out of reach in class, he reacted this way and found refuge into his bubble.

The problem was that coping this way did not solve things, only delaying them. In addition, it would end more destructive than anything. William needed to break this and find a self-caring way to communicate to be better. By the way, the guardian decided to act differently than usual: he inhaled to take courage and said:

'That's why I wanted you to go away.' He made a pause, looked away then went back on his purpose: 'did you… I mean… They - well, we… wear masks so.' he sighed, feeling all dumb. He slapped his face and started all over: 'how do you feel?'

Snape finally had made his mind and thought that was the most essential detail than anything else.

William glanced at him a fraction of second and paled even more if it was possible, his heart at his lips. How did he feel? As if a storm had drowned his inner self.

'I don't know…' he murmured, unable to speak louder, or else he would drain his energy. 'It's like… my instinct told me so… that he is…' The end of his sentence kept imprisoned halfway.

His guardian nodded distractedly and sipped his coffee in one gulp.

He then thought wise to stop there, aware of the incapacity from his ward to talk at all.

'Whenever you feel able to stand on your feet, we shall go back home,' he said at last.

'One thing occurred to me…' Snape trailed off once both of them were back to the apartment calmness.

William did not react - not as someone would expect: the boy did not move or say anything when one talked to him. The Raven knew, from observation, that the teenager always was all hears (apart from when he dozed in class or was too far in his daydreams).

'When Winston came with the other owl… Well, it's none of my business but… Was it a personal mail?'

William now glimpsed at him and concentrated back on his Advanced Potion Making book.

'It is', he merely replied.

The young man rolled his eyes, a bit exasperated. If his ward received personal mail, that meant he had shared this address without asking beforehand. That implied security. Well, the place was plottable, the problem was elsewhere. One could pick his mail, hurt his owl, and threaten the Death Eater. That was so a routine during the War that thought had hit the Potioneer rather instinctively.

Before he exhaled loudly and took some distance to what he had in mind. His paranoia was still very high, then. Nothing would harm them, apart from Lucius Malfoy - and, as a Slytherin, the kind of harm he would provide would be indirect and vicious.

William had not answered to Bill Weasley yet. When he had received the letter from the young Gryffindor, he had gazed at the bit of parchment blankly, not knowing what to write.

Both of them were not that close, as they mostly met during Snape's detentions and they did not talk that much but - but William had liked their quite rare exchanges. That's why he had accepted the first year would write to him during the holidays.

The teenager grabbed the letter and read it again, nonetheless he was not concentrated to be one hundred percent into it - his emotions overwhelmed him too much.

The shopping at Diagon Alley had been too - too what? He was not able to put it a clear thought. Only thinking about it made him sick. His gaze went unfocused, his throat had now a knot, his hands were shaking until it imprisoned his whole body.

Okay, let's try something, he thought at last because the very least he wanted was Bill to worry about him. He took some paper and a pen and started to write something of an answer.

At first, he thought he had dreamed that sound, but he slowed down his path and came closer to the door which had been stood ajar. Snape listened carefully, waiting.

The boy moved again, and pleaded - pleaded, with tears in his voice, halfway through his throat. He was having a nightmare and by the pleading, a haunting one. Muffled cries and tears against the pillow, William experienced his parents' assassination once more. It was too vivid, too powerful, too real to escape from that terrific moment.

The potioneer witnessed all of this in total motionlessness. He did not know what to do, what to say. How should he act? Coming in and wake the teenager up? What should he do? He stayed there, at the threshold, not knowing what he had to do - and that, that, was unnerving. He always knew what his next actions should be, but since he had been guarding this boy, all of his certainty had started to collapse. There was something the former Death Eater did not know for granted: how to raise a fifteen year-old Muggleborn child. A couple of minutes later, the boy had ceased to cry - the nightmare had gone. The Raven noiselessly went down the stairs and reached the balcony to meet the starry night. He promised himself not to talk about what he saw the following day. William would have been ashamed. In addition, the young adult could not do so, as he had had repetitive nightmares at that age too, more or less. The kind of reminiscence he would have preferred to forget forever. Instead of that, he only was finding a new recipe for the Wolfsbane Potion. It was his only way to cope that trauma. How would William cope his parents' death? How could someone cope with that anyway?

Bill frowned while he read the piece of paper. His mother, who was preparing meal, turned and watched him closely.

'What's wrong, honey?' she asked. 'You look preoccupied.' she added when he looked back at her in wonder.

'Nah, that's nothing.' he replied, then shrugged. 'Well, that's… I don't know how to consider what I've just read, that's all.'

'Is that that William you've talked to us in your letters back at Hogwarts who wrote to you?' Mrs Weasley inquired next.

That was not at all a need to sneak in his son's life, she only was curious as his elder often talked about that fifth year in his correspondence.

'Yes…' he answered evasively. 'I guess he's not that much of a open-hearted one.'

The pre-teen decided to drop the matter where it was. He remembered perfectly well his mate from detention was largely open with what was about his Queens and Kings rather than himself. Curiously enough, Bill understood that and accepted it as the first thing he did was to rush into his room to reply and ask an extensive genealogical tree about the Muggle Monarchs to show them later to his dad, who surely would beam in extensive joy.

'You know you're named after a Muggle king, right?' Bill stated while he was reading with his brother Charlie, reading himself. Both of them often kept reading their favourite topics in their room. Sometimes Percy sneaked inside to share their ritual; when Fred and George did not bother them with their games.

Well, the elder sons liked those moments, innocent and playful, with the twins. Nevertheless, some calmness was precious in that crowded house. The youngest, Ron and Ginny were noisy too, but as they were respectively one and a half and eleven months, that was totally different.

Mostly, cries.

Ew.

'Is that William who told you so?' teased Charlie, who willingly dropped his dragons book for a couple of seconds to answer.

'Yes, Charles. He even told me that you're named after the current Prince of Wales, actual son of the Queen. Percy is named after a knight from the Arthurian legends, I quote.' he continued.

'Really?' Percy blurted out, all excited. He already could picture himself in a Middle-Age period, wearing an armor.

'It seems that Fred and George too. They are from different periods, though. Frederick was quite a few centuries ago, whereas the latest king George was the current Queen's father. Nice,' Bill pursued his reading from William's letter. He had asked the Eaglet if his family's first names were coordinated with historical figures. 'For Ron, he's checking because that's not usual as name in the aristocracy… And Ginny… Ah! She also is linked to the Arthurian legends! She's named after king Arthur's wife.'

Charlie and Percy were all ears and were surprised to that close perfect matching. Either their parents had thoroughly chose those names or it was a huge stroke of luck.

'Did you tell that to dad?' Charlie then asked. 'He surely would be pleased to know all of it.'

'Not yet. I wanted to tell him that during dinner.'

Percy shook his head slightly. 'Depends if he comes home before we go to bed,' he said sorrowly.

He did not reproach his mother's way of raising them, but certainly the fact that their father was hooked by work until late every so often.

'Or drop him a note, so that he would cheer up a bit in the morning?' Charlie suggested.

'Brilliant.'

Bill now spent the following couples of minutes copying past what William had written him on a separate bit of parchment. Both Charlie and Percy went back to their readings.

'What's that odd smile which reaches your both ears?' Snape frowned.

William dropped his letter and laughed a bit before he cleared his throat from embarrassment, because - oh, by George - that inquisitive look from his guardian shook his shyness quite hard.

'That's… my previous letter had a lot of success, I guess, from what I'm reading.' he succeeded to articulate intelligibly.

The potioneer rose an eyebrow, sipped his coffee, then raised the other eyebrow: that was the sign he was merely curious. It was true this exchange worried him a lot, thank you dear paranoia, but it appeared that was quite innocent. Subsequently, he had soon excluded those letters would have come from his ward's classmates. The way William reacted, quite positively, to the owl deliveries inclined in that way. As since the potion incident, things had turned tough in Ravenclaw House, never the teenager would have jumped from joy to receive letters from Virginia or Elizabeth.

It only let two possibilities: the Hufflepuff boy and… no, that was stupid but possible: William Weasley. Both Williams had appeared to be in good terms whenever they both were in detention.

To conclude, with what the Eaglet just said, knowing Arthur Weasley per reputation, if his letter had success and knowing William's keen interest in British history, it only could mean that his penmate was the Weasley boy.

Good. Or not. Well, apart from his aversion to Gryffindor, he should keep in mind that what was about his ward's life was most important and if he was okay with that "friendship", why not then.

Since the Diagon Alley shopping, none of them had talked about what occurred there, either they did not dare to or they would not admit that William had nightmares as a consequence.