A Fariytale Of Home

idk

Harry Potter was known in the village of Athlea as a quiet boy. Public opinion on whether the now ten year old was a well behaved boy was divided between a group of people who had either spoken to him, observed nothing bad or simply disliked Severus Snape. This was a rather large portion of the villagers. Another, smaller, group believed that despite Snape's reputation, as much as he corrected the boy he had to have done something. Of course the population of the small muggle village knew very little about the boy or the family residing at Prince Manor as a whole for that matter. Some years ago Lord Prince, the elderly owner of the manor, had died and as far as they could tell the place had been deserted until his English grandson moved in with his pretty disabled wife and his stepson. The new owner was not well liked in the village but the family mainly kept to themselves and so they were rarely the topic of conversation. They seemed happy enough at least. They had, or so it was said, a deal of money and who wouldn't be happy then?

Of course the inhabitants of the little Irish village hardly knew the truth of the matter. Neighbors rarely do. For a man who had come into moderate wealth at a young age, Snape was in most aspects mature beyond his years and rather frugal. He had never wanted anything from his grandfather nor would he have accepted anything had it not been for Lily. Lily, who following her recovery needed special care and comfortable surroundings that Severus, an unemployed young Potions Master at the time, could not provide. Furthermore she was his now and from the moment she agreed to marry him he had vowed she would receive nothing but the best. Severus was of the opinion that he had done very well. After all he had simply nodded when Lily had demanded that her son be brought to her. Then he was fetched from Petunia's home and Severus was not in the least surprised to see her joy at being rid of the then two and a half year old boy. He was after all a Potter. And he was proved correct as the child was nothing but noise and mess.

Lily was fragile. She was easily confused, excited and had trouble focusing and remembering things at times. She could not raise a child. Severus would not raise that child. And due to Lily's disability there would be no more children. So, his grandfather's will was a blessing in disguise. Severus knew very well that the only thing his grandfather thought was worse than letting his half blood grandson inherit was leaving it to the remaining nearest of kin who were all either bastards or female.

These days Harry barely remembered his aunt and uncle and recollected nothing of his cousin though he knew they existed. His world consisted entirely of Prince Manor and Athlea. Once his tutor, Mr Browne, had made him read a bit of a book called Bleak House. Harry couldn't recall what it was about but ever since, that had been his secret name for Prince Manor.

Prince Manor was situated in the middle of a very large walled garden which in turn was separated from Athlea by forest. It was a large foreboding three story building, the oldest surviving parts of which were 16th century. Later, Victorian wings in neogothic style added gloom to the facade. Most of the interior was dark. The house had countless doors - some of which were hidden. Mahogany and dark green being reoccurring themes is was a beautiful but anything but cheerful place. The only exception was the Summer Room. Harry knew it had once been a playroom but these days it was his mother's room. It was his favorite place in the whole world. It was also one of the many rooms which he was forbidden from entering without permission. Not that his mum minded, no, but others did. This May morning Harry sat crouched on the grand staircase, hiding behind the balustrade as he looked through the open door into the Summer Room.

The room was round. The wall paper in there was light green with flowers in many colors. The furniture was made from light wood and the huge window overlooked the flower gardens. Harry wasn't allowed to play in the flower gardens. He couldn't remember ever seeing Snape in that garden either. He suspected it was only kept to provide the splendid view from the Summer Room. His mother was seated at her desk with her back to Harry. Her red hair was up in a bun and he could hear the scratching of her quill on parchment. The light coming from the windows framed her. He longed to go in there and hug her. But he knew he couldn't. Things had not always been this way. He had faint memories of the flat where they had all once lived. Him, mum and Snape. His mum had been sick then too but she was always there. Then they had moved to the bleak house. At first his mother had lived with his stepfather, moving between the first and ground floor via an old lift which Harry not only found scary but he was also forbidden from using by himself. Back then his mother had been getting better. Sometimes all three would walk into town so she could do some shopping and she would roll about the gardens in her chair with Harry, watch him play and draw with him. But it wasn't like that now. Mum had gotten worse some years ago and Snape had moved her to the Summer Room which had up until then been unused. Since then Harry had been forbidden from entering without another adult because he might 'upset' her. She had gotten better since, worse yet again and then better but the restrictions remained the same.