Ever since Mrs Wilson had told Harry all little children could send Santa Claus a letter with their greatest wish for Christmas, Harry had send a letter each year. It was now 2 years since he had learned about letters and he had found some crayons Dudley no longer liked and some pieces of paper in the attic in a box Aunt Tuny said needed to be thrown out.
He was working very hard on his letter. He hoped Santa would read his letter and know he was trying so very hard to be a good boy. He didn’t want to be on the naughty list again this year. He tried very hard to obey his aunt and uncle and to be a good kid, but sometimes weird things just happened around him. His relatives despised weird things, anything that wasn’t normal was wrong and when Harry did something wrong he would be send to his cupboard without food.
Even though Harry wasn’t sure if Santa would think he was good this year, he knew he had to write a letter and he had to make it perfect. It was his only chance at getting a happy family.
He read through the letter on more time and put it in the envelope. Mrs Figg had promised she would send it to Santa for him after she babysat him tomorrow. He was happy he had Mrs Figg, even if she had a lot of smelly cats and a lot of cat pictures. She was one of the few adults who was nice to Harry and he liked that. It was very nice, sometimes she even gave him biscuits.
The last thing Severus was expecting to find between his mail was a letter addressed to Santa. It was clearly a mistake. Usually postal services tended to throw these letters out, they did not have a proper address after all. Somehow this one had found itself between his mail.
He wondered whether he should read it. He imagined it was from a happy child somewhere whose parents had already read the letter and knew just what to get the little menace. Still, right before he discarded it something inside him told him he should open the letter and read it. That it was more important than it seemed.
I wish for a family, who loves me like I am.
I am a good boy, but my aunt, uncle and cousin always call me
I can do a lot, cooking, gardening and even cleaning the house, even better than Aunt' Tuny.
I want a Daddy, who reads with me, tug me in and calls me his little boy.
I can't do anything against those freaky accidents. I'll try, but it happens all the time, and then I have to spend days without food and water into my cupboard.
Please, Mr. Santa - I just want a home, nothing else.
Kind Regards Harry
Severus didn’t know what to make of the letter. He had believed the child to be well-off and raised by loving people and being taught about their world. Dumbledore had ensured him that was the case the last time Severus had asked. But this letter implied that none of that was true and made Severus’s heart ache a little.
Part of him wanted to ignore it, pretend Dumbledore would never lie. But he couldn’t. No, he had made a promise to Lily that he would always protect her son and he had to at least check on him. Just to make sure he was okay.
He changed into some muggle clothes and used a tracking charm on the letter which would lead him straight to Harry. He found the boy sitting on a swing set in the cold winter air in a deserted park.
While Severus was deciding whether he would approach or not, the boy was already tugging on his coat.
“Did Santa send you, sir? To see if I am a good boy?” Harry asked softly, “I try very hard I promise.”
Severus knew if he left now, those green eyes would always haunt him. So he stayed and decided to find out exactly how badly the boy was being treated. The bruises Severus could spot didn’t promise many good things.