By LastCrazyHorn

Word Count: 105891

Rating: PG-13 for brief language, violence, and depictions of abuse

Summary: A disabled Harry comes to Hogwarts story. Everyone expects him to be like his dad, but how can he be with such a different past? A Slytherin Harry takes on Hogwarts in an unusual way.

Singe turned his nose up at Hagrid’s offer of brandy for his baby. Baby seemed interested, but he pulled her back down into their nest and shoved the bucket away with a clawed forearm.

In turn, Hagrid held up a thick tome and started gesticulating energetically at one of the pages within.

Singe rolled his eyes and growled deep within his chest. This seemed to do the trick and Hagrid stepped back away from them in apology.

There wasn’t much time to relax though. Singe’s sharp nose soon picked up the scent of three or four other persons strolling slowly in their direction. Quickly he caught Baby’s tail and dragged her back down under his wing. She seemed intent on exploring as much as possible, but his senses told him that her protection was more important than her curiosity.

He looked to Hagrid and waited for the large man to notice their visitors. He seemed to notice about the same time that Singe was able to see them. That was the only thing he really missed about his physical self; his eyesight was actually better as a human, and of course he missed being able to talk to his Grandfather and others like his friends.

“Well, speak of the devil,” was his next thought.

“Hmm?” His father replied distantly, as though preoccupied with something else.

“My friends are here”, Singe explained mentally.

“So they are,” Was Severus’ noncommittal response.

“You knew?”

“I suggested it”, His father answered.

“But I can’t talk to them like this.”

“Correct.”

“But—,” Singe was confused. What was the point of his friends visiting if he couldn’t interact? He snorted a bit of smoke in frustration.

“Perhaps they will surprise you,” Was his father’s ambiguous response.

Singe paused and thought over that.

“They usually do,” He admitted a few heartbeats later.

He looked up and saw Hagrid interacting with Hermione. She was gesturing as she talked, and he felt more than a little bit homesick at the sight. He put his head on his front paws and grumbled, emitting some more black smoke as he did. Absentmindedly, he reached out and caught Baby as she tried to pop her head out and see who was there. He slid her back down under his wing and mentally admonished her, ignoring her pleas of, “Want want want!”

He looked up as Teddy waved at him.

In return, he nodded at his friend, feeling somewhat awkward while doing so. Hermione turned in his direction then and smiled brightly at him.   He cocked his head to the side, and shoved Baby back a little further with his wing.

He didn’t react when Hermione pulled out her wand, but he wanted to. His dragon senses were screaming DANGER at him, but his human mind was arguing just as vehemently that this was Hermione. She wouldn’t hurt him. Not Hermione.

Merlin save them all if his belief turned out to be false.

Hermione moved closer still as his other three friends shuffled nervously slightly behind her. He watched in bemusement as arcs of fire began to spout from the tip of her wand. They were making shapes; they were making words.

And with a little squinting and head turning, he suddenly realised that he could read them.

‘WE MISSED YOU AT DINNER,’ Said the first message.

It made him snort and stomp his foot in amusement. His sudden change in behaviour caused Baby to try to move upward, but he swiftly caught her hind leg and pulled her back down to safety.

The words faded as Hermione began to write new ones in their place. Her lower lip was caught in-between her teeth as she concentrated on their construction. Singe realised that she had to write them all backward in order for him to read them, and his estimation of her intelligence and ability increased once more.

‘IS THAT A DRAGON UNDER YOU?’

His paws clawed the earth in agitation at her question. What good was it keeping Baby under wraps if she kept peering out? Finally, he opted to answer her question with a jerky nod.

‘Naughty Baby,’ He mentally added toward Baby.

She didn’t have a lower lip to poke out, but her response felt similar. It was pitiful and not at all helpful, and he as much as told her that.

‘CAN YOU TALK TO HER TOO?’

He gave another jerky nod. It reminded him that dragons didn’t really seem to have the ability to nod, and he felt his annoyance grow. If he ever saw Dumbledore again, he’d give him something to think about. Something lasting. Something miserable.

Clearly sensing that he was getting agitated, his friends backed away from him. He focused back on the outside world and realised that he was breathing flames from his mouth. Oops. He reined them in, but couldn’t help but remember his anger. The appearance of his friends reminded him that he had friends and that bothered him. He had had allies before, but having friends was a new concept; one that he thus far enjoyed.

‘BEING A DRAGON ISN’T FOREVER.’

Where had that come from? Hermione was still standing near him bravely, showing her Gryffindor courage. Her face had a determined cast to it and he wanted to tell her not to be upset.

But he couldn’t. So he put his head down where Baby was trying to sneak out again and covered his head with his paws. He couldn’t talk to his friends—his very first friends—and that upset him. What was the good of catching Dumbledore if he refused to return him to his human state? What was the point of being a dragon if he couldn’t hurt the ones who had hurt him?

He looked down at Baby and watched as she gently head-butted him. He licked her head and she sent warm feelings at him over their link.

Baby was a good thing, but he wanted his friends and his family. He wanted them so much it ached inside his heart and stomach.

. . .

Severus threw the book he had been reading down in disgust. It was depressing to think of how few books there were on animagi. Moody’s search through possible dark rituals was also going slowly. It was starting to seem as though there was not going to be a viable solution in any of the rare tomes that Severus had scavenged from either the Restricted Section or the old man’s office. It had always been little more than a low possibility, but damn it, Severus had been hopeful.

“Anything?” Moody’s low growl distracted him from his mental mutterings.

“Not a blessed thing. Every animagus in here was changed into a reptile through voluntary means. Only three cases resulted from accidental magic, and even those cases were easily corrected through the use of known spells,” Severus groused.

With an exasperated sigh he tossed, ‘Your Cold-Blooded Child’ onto the pile of discarded books.

“I wonder . . .” Severus stopped in thought and turned back to a book deeper within the discarded pile.

“Care on sharin’ wit’ the class, Snape?” Moody grunted, giving a tired grunt.

“According to ‘Magikal Messes of Orphans and Squibs,” Severus said, thumbing to the appropriate page, “Children who presented with complex difficulties in seemingly unchangeable magical situations were more likely to have been raised in multiple locations with few strong experiences in safety.”

“Glad you understood all that, Snape,” Moody answered.

His gnarled fingers massaged his temples as he spoke and Severus rolled his eyes.

“I saw that,” Moody snapped testily.

“Of course you did,” Severus answered with only slight annoyance.

He reached into an inner pocket and pulled out a vial of headache potion.

“Here, catch,” Severus said quietly as he tossed the vial to Moody. It was in an unbreakable vial, but he didn’t feel like telling the insufferable old man that.

“Damn it, Snape!” Moody shouted as he fumbled for the slippery little vial. “Poppy’ll have me head if I make a mess in here.”

“And she will too!” The aforementioned woman shouted from the other end of the room.

Her words caused both men to look at one another and visibly shudder. Being at her mercy when one was hurt was bad enough. For a moment, Severus felt guilty, but then he remembered how unmerciful Moody had been during his supposed ‘infatuation’ period. Severus sneered at the memory and then in turn at the man opposite him. The idea of Moody bedding him was enough to wipe his mind clean of any other thoughts aside from extreme disgust.

“Take it and listen,” Severus continued.

“And if I don’t?” Moody’s tone was challenging and somewhat petulant.

“Then don’t,” Severus retorted sharply, his dark eyes glaring at the other man.

“Hmph,” Was all the other man said before tossing back the medicine.

A few heartbeats later and the man looked much better. The colour returned to his cheeks and his forehead no longer looked so pinched.

“Was that so bad?” Severus couldn’t help but ask.

“Yea,” Moody said, crossing his arms and trying to look pitiful.

“Try harder,” Severus suggested with a smirk.

“Arse,” Moody muttered, not looking at him.

“Now, as I was saying before your unfortunate little divergence, I think I have an idea about how to help Harry.”

“Listenin’,” Moody grunted.

“I think you need to take me to where you found him. I need to see what kind of place he was living in before he came to Hogwarts.”

“An’ how’s that s’posed to help anythin’?”

“In order to help Harry feel safest, I need to know what sorts of inconsistencies he lived with before.”

“An’ my tellin’ yah isn’t enough?” Moody asked.

“You should know it’s not. You might have been an auror, but I am a Slytherin.”

“An’?”

“Slytherins are taught how to make assessments from an early age.”

“So, yer point?”

“My point is that we often think the same way. We hide our secrets from common sight, even in adverse situations. Perhaps especially in adverse situations. I need to see how his life was lived during the interim between here and his despicable relative’s house. And then we must visit that house. We can never hope to provide true safety for him if we don’t know the extent of his needs.”

Moody was silent long enough for Severus to feel the need to prompt him.

“What do you think of my idea?”

Moody huffed and crossed his arms and looked at the wall.

“Spit it out. You’re not just wasting my time, you’re also wasting Harry’s.”

“I know that,” Moody muttered. “I guess you have a point.”

“Are you saying that I might be right?” Severus clapped a hand to his heart and gave a dramatic sigh. “What an earth shattering supposition!”

“Might be right, might be,” Moody stressed as they pulled themselves upright and headed to the Infirmary floo.

Moody nodded to the auror on guard next to Dumbledore’s door.

“I’ll send a message to Bones to let her know yeh need another auror here,” Moody stated.

Severus watched as Moody cast the patronus and sent a silver white badger out of his wand to deliver his words to the DMLE head.

“A badger?” Severus asked as they reached the floo.

“Vicious little creature,” Moody answered, throwing a pinch of floo powder in.

“Where are we headed?”

“Diagon,” Moody said. “I’ll apparate us from there. If yeh don’t mind me touchin’ yeh,” The man said with a laugh. “Diagon Alley,” He called out clearly before stepping into the green flames.

“Lovely,” Severus said with a look of distaste before repeating the older man and following him through the fireplace.

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