Harry Potter and the Misunderstanding

CHAPTER 2

Sunday afternoon, in the dungeons of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, found Severus Snape busy at his desk, catching up on paperwork.
The professor, whose robes were black to match his hair and eyes, was enjoying his solitude in the dark dungeon. Severus Snape was characterised by his likeness for darkness, it was hard to come by in a castle filled with hundreds of flaming brackets on every wall.

He was not amused, therefore, to see his fireplace suddenly blaze green to reveal the head of Albus Dumbledore.

"Severus, I know it's an inconvenient time to disturb you, particularly with exams imminent, but something important has occurred. Would you be able to come to my office?"

"Would you be able to catch me if I ran?" Severus muttered under his breath. The Potions master sighed. He wasn't entirely loath to leave off correcting his third year students' essays: he got so tired of marking papers with recurring examples of students who had ceased to evolve. He skipped over the less glaring errors of his current paper and stood up. Stopping by for whatever Dumbledore wanted would mean he'd be raring to go with the red ink when the headmaster was through with him.
"I will be up directly, Albus," he promised, and the head disappeared.
The flames in the stone grate returned to their normal colour.

Capping his bottle of red ink, Severus stretched his arms over his head and flexed his fingers, which were cramped from all the corrections he'd been making. He let out a quiet groan and headed over to the fireplace.

Throwing some Floo powder over the crackling fire, he gave the simple order: "Headmaster's office!"
Stepping into the green glow, Severus braced himself for the whirling journey to the top of the school.

Dumbledore was waiting at a safe distance when Severus walked out of the grate, ash sifting off his billowing robes. The headmaster gave his Potions Master a smile before pointing to one of the chairs in front of his window. Severus saw the man's lips forming a: "Wou-" and hastily cut him off.

"No, Albus, I would not care for a lemon drop, thank you."

"Ah. Well, you won't mind if I help myself, then." Dumbledore said cheerfully, placing a small crystal dish of sweets in his lap.

Severus drummed his fingers impatiently on the arm of the chair but he hadn't long to wait before the headmaster got straight to the point.

"You remember, Severus, how we placed Harry Potter in the care of his aunt and uncle in Surrey? Arabella Figg has just informed me that they were killed while, ah..." Dumbledore's brow furrowed as he tried to recall Arabella's explanation. "...Rolling on a coast, I believe."

Severus blinked at Dumbledore. "I think you mean a roller coaster. But, Potter is... dead?" Severus' hands stilled. Surely the headmaster was mistaken.

"Oh, no. Do not misunderstand, Severus, the boy is alive. His relatives went on holiday. He was left with Arabella."

Severus relaxed. Not that he cared for the brat one pint, of course. But the boy was Lily's son, after all.

Dumbledore steepled his fingers, the sweets forgotten momentarily. "We hardly saw this one coming, and it's a delicate situation. His aunt, as his only living relative, was the only one who could offer blood protection pursuant to Lily's sacrifice," the old man continued, "and at this point, anywhere we send young Harry, he'll be vulnerable."

"What difference does it make?" Snapped Severus. "Any Wizarding family would be happy enough to adopt the boy, regardless of the dangers."

"It would hardly be fair to Lily, who gave her life for her child, to let him be raised by people who were only interested in the fame it would bring them." Dumbledore said severely.