AN: This story contains some discussion of abuse (though nothing graphic) and it will have some (non-traditional) alpha/omega themes - it's gonna be a creature fic. Also there is some non-graphic mentioned in passing Mpreg in later chapters. Please consider this as your warning, and do not read if this in any way bothers you.
This has not been beta read so please forgive any mistakes/ feel free to point out any glaring ones I may have missed.
Disclaimer: I don't own anything recognisable and am making no money from this work.
Severus Snape stalked through the dungeons intent on retreating to his quarters and nursing a snifter of whisky for the evening. The day had been a trying one for it had been allocated to the first task of the Triwizard Tournament; a tournament he knew was trouble the moment the headmaster suggested hosting it at Hogwarts. In only its first of three tasks, it had already seen one disastrous mishap after another. Mind you, the way these last few years had gone, that was becoming nothing new. This time, though, something bad was going to happen, Severus was sure of it.
It had been nothing more than "sheer dumb luck" – as his colleague, and friend, had once suggested – that Potter managed to survive facing off against that dragon. The flying skills that boy possessed were remarkable, Severus hadn't seen anything of its like in all his days. He would admit it to no one, but, the moment the horntail broke free of its restrains, he had been terrified he was about to witness the Potter boy's death and there would have been nothing he could have done about it – not with so many spectators watching.
Oh, how Severus had wanted to pull the boy from the arena and squirrel him away to safety. Had it been up to him, Harry Potter would never have had anything to do with the whole retched tournament, save to watch it as a spectator alongside his young friends. However, it was not up to Severus to save Harry from the life he had been thrust headlong into as a young child, no matter how much he longed to.
You see, Severus Snape had a secret he had told no one. By keeping his secret, he protected himself, yes, but, moreover he protected one he cared about far more, for you see, he did care. He cared about the boy he had been charged to protect; charged to protect so long as he could do so without blowing his cover – and Severus rather felt that by swooping in and demanding Harry Potter not have to face a dragon, he would be giving away his hand in a war that his mentor was not so sure was yet over.
If it weren't for the fact that the magic in the mark that marred his forearm was still active, Severus Snape might have branded Albus Dumbledore an old fool years ago. If it weren't for the fact that that magic didn't die all those years ago on that fateful Hallowe'en night, the night many celebrated the death of the Dark Lord Voldemort, Severus would have lived a very different kind of life.
As it was, the magic hadn't died, and Severus happened to also believe that the war was far from over, and so had lived the life he had, hiding in plain sight, teaching potions to the students of Hogwarts, and pretending not to care as he really did.
Some days Severus found it hard to keep the persona of the dungeon dragon he wore like a cloak shrouded around himself. Other days life was so mundane it wasn't hard to feign disinterest in everything around him. Today was not one of those days, which was why the evening found Snape stalking through the halls looking forward to a bit of solitude.
It seemed though that solitude was not to be had that night.