DISCLAIMER: I own nothing you recognize.

WARNING: This WILL EVENTUALLY be SLASH, meaning Male/Male relations.

SUMMARY: This is gonna be based on the novel "Girl With The Pearl Earring", sorta. Eventual HPSS, though SSBW (Bill Weasley) and LMBW implied. Back when Harry was 11, his aunt convinced him that the letters he was getting were from bad people who wanted to kill him. So he wished they never find him and this wish made him unfindable. No one who has the purpose of finding him will do so. Now Harry is 16, and totally oblivious to the magic world. Meanwhile, Lord Voldemort is on the rise. And Severus Snape finds himself practically on Harry's doorstep. Read on to find what happens!

Chapter 1

Today was not a good day. A part of Severus Snape, Potions Master Extraordinaire, cussed silently as his abused body landed on a sidewalk of a busily buzzing Muggle London street. He cracked an eye open and shut it quickly at the pain induced by the bright light. The Cruciatus was definitely his least favorite curse. Especially after he'd been under it for what seemed like ages. That and an array of other curses. Lord Voldemort did not take disobedience lightly. And apparently disobey Severus did. Being a spy for the light wasn't easy.

He sighed as he contemplated the possibility of getting up. No. Best stay still. He could feel his muscles convulsing in violent spasms. He needed potion. But the Dark Lord's servants knew what they were doing when they portkeyed the man into Muggle London. They knew he was in no state to Apparate himself. And they took the portkey Dumbledore provided. Oh god, Dumbledore. Severus cringed. The Hogwarts Headmaster was on the verge of collapsing. He needed rest, but he would have none. He threw all his resources into finding...the Boy Who Lived. The boy who, as a baby, defeated Voldemort. The boy who never responded to his Hogwarts letter and never came to Hogwarts when he turned 11. The boy who disappeared from Privet Drive, along with his foster family, and somehow became untraceable. No one could find him. Not the Muggle way, not the magical way. He was...gone. And with him all hope of defeating Voldemort. Yes, the Dark Lord was still weak. He'd been resurrected only months ago. But he was...invincible. That is, he could not be killed by anyone...save Harry Potter.

With a start, Severus came out of his thoughts as a car honked nearby, causing his overtaxed muscles to give a violent lurch. He groaned and tried to at least get onto his knees. He had to get off this street. Passerby Muggles were eyeing him strangely. He grimaced. None had offered to help. Though, in a way, he was grateful for it. They couldn't have done anything anyway. With another violent start he realized he was being spoken to.

"Sir? Sir?" A voice was coming from his right. "Are you all right?"

Hands helped him up and he found himself leaning on a teenage boy with brilliant emerald eyes and a strangely familiar face.

"Sir?" The boy was looking at him worriedly.

"I am perfectly fine," Snape grumbled and pushed himself away from the boy. His knees chose this moment to give out. Before he hit the pavement, however, he felt strong hands wrapping around him, holding him up. Once again he faced the strangely familiar boy. Meanwhile, the boy was talking.

"That's it," he was saying in a commanding voice, "you're coming with me. My house is just across the street. I'll get you fixed up."

Some of Severus' old sarcasm came up. "I thought you guys took people to hospitals," he grimaced, "to...fix people up." Drop me, he ordered silently. He had no wish to go into a stupid Muggle's house. Though why did the boy look so damn familiar?

But the boy wasn't affected. "Yes, well, hospitals aren't always the best thing. I can help you. I have what could be called...a Knack for certain things."

Supporting Severus' weight, the strange boy led him across the street and up the steps of a shabby house.

"By the way," he said as he fitted a key into the lock, "my name is Harry. What's yours?"

Recognition flooded Severus' mind. No...it couldn't be him... could it? His eyes shot to the boy's forehead. It was covered by hair. He couldn't see. But the resemblance...he looked just like James. For the first time in many years, the greasy Potions Master prayed to God that this strange young man was indeed him...Harry Potter.

Okay, I know this was really short, and I'm sorry. But if you review I'll write the next chapter as soon as possible. So please review! Pretty please?