Harry Potter and the Misunderstanding

CHAPTER 3

"Why is he dressed like that?" Harry whispered to Mrs Figg. He was mesmerised by the ominous appearance of the man who had just that moment stepped out of the fireplace.

Mrs Figg had ushered Harry over the threshold of her house as soon as she had opened the door to him two days ago. When news had reached them that, the day after in fact, that Harry's relatives had been killed in an accident at the theme park, arrangements had been made for Harry.

Although Mrs Figg had not been very forthcoming with the details, she assured Harry that he would be kept safe.

Arabella Figg smiled at Harry and answered: "Those are wizard robes, Harry. He's a wizard."

Harry was stunned. "A real wizard? Like Merlin?" He asked, picturing the illustrated blue-robed old man from The Sword In The Stone, with the pointy hat.
Harry tried to reconcile that image with the man in the room.
"He looks more like a vampire." He said honestly.

Harry didn't realise that he had uttered this comment aloud until Mrs Figg threw back her head and laughed, earning a glare from the man who had just arrived.

"Harry, this is Severus Snape," she introduced him, still chuckling.

Harry nodded at the tall man clad in all black but Snape did not reciprocate. Instead, he sat in the chair opposite the ones they occupied, staring so pointedly at Harry that he became uncomfortable and looked away.

The man spoke to Mrs Figg: "I've just come from Albus's office," he said, "where he informed me that Potter's relatives had... passed away."

"Yes," she replied, squeezing Harry's shoulder and clucking her tongue. "It was terrible, just terrible. Apparently no one was paying attention to the weight limit on the roller coaster, and the whe- "

"And as such," Snape interrupted, "the boy is now left in our hands." This was said with a passing glare over Harry's form. "What do you suppose we'll have to do for you now, Potter?" He asked mockingly.

Harry shook his head and scuffed the toe of his trainer on the floor. "I'll get put in an orphanage." He predicted in a flat voice. 

"There is one other option." Snape told him. "The headmaster of the school where I teach thinks it would be a good idea for you to come and live with me." His upper lip curled in a sneer. "I felt that it was a poor arrangement, and I assure you that I have infinitely better things to do with my time and houseroom, however..." Snape trailed off here as though to emphasise his next words. "If you come to live with me, I won't put up with any nonsense."

Harry felt his stomach clench. Here was another adult that thought he was nothing but a nuisance.

Mrs Figg spoke up on his behalf: "Severus, Harry isn't any tr-"

But the man wasn't finished, and he waved off her protests. "I am not about to spoil you rotten as your family would," he continued. "No matter who your parents were or how famous you think you are."

Harry looked up, trying to disregard the man's tone as he asked: "You knew my parents?" He blushed at the sharp look that Snape sent his way at the interruption. "I only know that they died in a car crash." Harry added hastily. 

Snape looked a little taken aback by this. "Your parents did not die in a car crash, Potter." He said, frowning at Harry. "Your mother was a witch." 

Harry shot to his feet and drew himself up to his full height, which, granted, only brought him barely up to Snape's chest. Harry's eyes flashed with anger. "Don't call my mother names!" he said angrily.

Snape stood too and the effect was much more dramatic. "Sit down, Potter. Your mother was a witch because she could do magic. It was not an insult." Snape spat. 

Harry didn't move.

"Sit down." Snape repeated, taking hold of Harry by the shoulder and pushing him down onto the chair. "In the future, you will address me as Sir too, is that understood?" Snape added angrily.

Harry nodded, feeling cowed and a little foolish, though still confused and bursting with further questions. "Yes, Sir." he mumbled obediently.

"Good. Now, you'll be staying at my house, in the care of my servant, until the school term has ended."

Harry overlooked the comment about Snape owning a servant as he asked what seemed to be the most pressing information he required: "What about school, Sir?"

Severus waved the question away with an offhand, "I hardly think you'll suffer from missing a week of muggle school." 

Harry did not quite understand this answer, but missing school sounded good enough to him. What was a muggle? He didn't dare ask Snape, the man looked impatient.

"I'll come home in the evenings, and when summer holiday starts, I'll be there all the time. You will follow the rules I set you, is that understood?" Snape carried on.

"Yes, Sir." Harry said awkwardly.

"Good." Snape retorted. He walked to the door and Mrs Figg followed suit, motioning kindly to Harry to follow the dour man.  

"Come, Potter. We'll stop by the house and get your things." Snape explained at Harry's hesitance. 

Harry frowned as he thought this through. Dudley had so many toys, and this man had no way of knowing whose things were whose, and he'd never guess that Harry slept in the cupboard. He might not even especially care. He would probably think it odd, in fact, if Harry claimed that he had all his possessions in the small bag next to him. Harry could easily claim that Dudley's second bedroom was his; he could take a few of Dudley's toys and books, and put them in his bag without anyone being the wiser. But Snape was shifting impatiently and Harry didn't want to go all the way back to the house if it was going to make his new guardian irritable. Besides, Harry was feeling so tired and empty. He realised, quite sadly, that he did not especially care about Dudley's toys. 

His cousin was dead. His aunt and uncle too. And, though his aunt, uncle and their bully of a son could never hurt him again, Harry felt odd picking through his relative's things when the boy would not be there to miss them. He was not sure he could explain it to himself. Harry was only ten after all, but a part of him understood, in an ironically adult sort of way, that some feelings were just indescribable to you when you were a child. 

"I have everything here, sir." He said, pointing to the bag by the sofa.

Snape looked momentarily surprised until then his eyes narrowed. "We'll not be coming back, Potter. Know this, I'm not running errands hither and yon for you. If you leave your things behind, they're gone."

Harry was angered by this, he had been trying to make things easier for Snape! "These are all my things." He repeated with as much of an edge to his tone that a boy of his age could deliver. "Everything else belongs to Dudley, my cousin."

"As you wish." Snape dismissed him with a wave of his hand. "Arabella, I thank you for your time but we'll be leaving now."

"Of course." Mrs Figg said faintly. She went over to Harry, running her wrinkled hands through his hair. "Goodbye, love. I hope you'll come back to visit." She said, giving him a kiss on the top of his head. 

Harry murmured a goodbye and looked to Snape for what he should do next. The man walked over to the fireplace, and with his wand he lit the dormant logs until a fire blazed merrily. Ignoring Harry's gasp, he then took down a pot from the mantel. He reached in and removed what looked like a handful of ash, which he threw into the flames. He then turned back and beckoned to Harry, who hesitated. Snape impatiently grabbed the boy's arm and pushed him toward the fireplace. "Hurry up, Potter. I haven't all day."

Taking a deep breath, Harry squeezed his eyes shut and stepped into the fire.

"Spinner's End!" Snape said in a loud, clear voice. Harry felt Snape's hand grip his shoulder as they rushed way in a whirl of fire and smoke.