Authors Note: I've finally found the time and inspiration to begin this multi-chapter! I want to state here and now that this story will not be Harry/Severus slash; it focusses on a mentor relationship between the two. I really hope you enjoy the first chapter, I'd be ever so flattered if you choose to favourite/follow, but please leave me your thoughts in a review too! Thank you!
Finding A Way Home
Chapter One
It was late evening during the hottest day of the year so far when Severus Snape found himself summoned to the Headmaster's office. He had been at home—his home, in Spinners End—when he had received the message calling him back to Hogwarts and he was not best pleased. The heat of the day had been blistering and had done little for Severus' already sour mood; the Dark Lord had demanded he brew several extremely complex potions for him and standing over simmering cauldrons when the temperature was pushing past thirty had made Severus more irritable than usual. He had dressed quickly nonetheless, muttering about Albus' lack of consideration, and had lit a fire in the empty grate with a scowl upon his face.
Albus Dumbledore was waiting for him to step out of the Floo, standing a few feet away from the fireplace with a grave expression on his heavily lined face. Even his robes were more sombre than his usual garish attire—a dark navy, with glittering gold thread at the cuffs and neck. Severus brushed ash off his own black robes with the back of his hand as he narrowed his eyes at the Headmaster.
'I trust this is something especially important,' Severus said coldly, his foul mood drowning any type of respect for the older wizard. 'I have an increased number of things to do since the Dark Lord's return. Potions to brew, meetings to attend, the destruction of humanity to plot, as I'm sure you can imagine.'
'It is a particularly solemn matter, Severus,' Dumbledore sighed, indicating that Severus should take a seat. 'It concerns, as I'm sure you guessed, Harry.'
Severus forced himself not to physically hiss at this information as he took the armchair Dumbledore had indicated. Of course it concerned Potter.
'And what kind of trouble has the boy gotten himself into now?' he asked, leaning back in his seat and drumming his fingers against the embroidered upholstery.
'Underage magic,' Dumbledore said grimly, the usual twinkle in his blue eyes extinguished. 'I have managed to fight the Minister into revoking the expulsion in favour of a hearing.'
'Underage magic?' Severus repeated, one eyebrow raised. He shook his head. 'Potter has been crossing lines since the day he arrived at Hogwarts, Headmaster, and he has been allowed to get away with it for too long. You seem to want him to get away with this, too, and this is breaching the law. He needs discipline.'
Dumbledore managed a thin smile that still didn't reach his eyes, and Severus finally realised how tired Albus looked. There were puffy bags beneath his eyes and his skin was pale—not as pale as Severus, but still an unhealthy pallor.
'Ah, but Severus, he performed a Patronus charm,' Dumbledore said, steepling his fingers as he regarded the Potions master.
'You don't expect me to believe that there were Dementors in Little Whinging,' Severus said flatly.
It was the Headmaster's turn to cock an eyebrow at the younger wizard, sitting back slightly in his own chair. Severus frowned his displeasure. It was unlikely; it had to be one of Potter's stories, designed to wriggle out of the tight corner he had backed himself into.
'The Dark Lord has not sent Dementors after Potter,' Severus said, his voice firm. 'They are leaning towards him and his power, but they are still very much under Ministry control at this moment in time. The Ministry hasn't been infiltrated.'
He left the yet off the end of the sentence, but he knew Dumbledore had picked up on it.
'I do not believe the Dementors were the work of Voldemort,' Dumbledore said. 'I assume you remember our conversation about our newest member of staff?'
Severus felt his mouth thin dangerously at the mention of Dolores Umbridge. The woman had been particularly active when Severus was young, whipping up all kinds of trouble to do with werewolves and their place in society. He remembered actually feeling sorry for Remus Lupin once, when he knew what Lupin was and what he had to face in adulthood, with Umbridge was screaming for the execution of anyone known to be infected with lycanthropy. He nodded in response to Dumbledore's question.
'Have you any proof that there were Dementors in the area, before you go off and accuse the Ministry?' Severus asked, watching Dumbledore carefully. 'It could be one of Potter's cock and bull stories.'
'Mrs. Figg was present,' Dumbledore replied. 'As a squib she cannot see them but she can feel them. She knew to keep a closer eye on Harry tonight, especially after his guard disappeared.'
The atmosphere was heavy. Severus felt annoyance prickle the back of his neck but there was a heavy knot of concern in his stomach, leaving the dinner he had eaten not two hours ago feeling unsettled.
'If the Ministry is turning against you and Potter, will they turn in favour of the Dark Lord?' Severus asked, leaning his elbows on his knees. He noticed a blot of Nerve Replenishing Potion on his cuff, turning the fabric back to hide it for something to do with his fingers.
'I don't know, Severus,' Dumbledore said heavily, suddenly looking his one hundred and something years. 'I hope not but Umbridge does have certain values and beliefs in common with Voldemort. If he did want a way in— Well, I shall need your vigilance more than ever.'
The Headmaster rose and crossed to the desk, lifting a crystal decanter of Firewhiskey from the bottom drawer. He offered Severus another strained smile as he poured two glasses of dark amber liquid and handed one to his companion.
'I do have another favour to ask,' Dumbledore began, staring down at the contents of his glass as Severus tipped the alcohol neatly down his throat. 'One I would not ask of you if I didn't have to.'
'Oh?' Severus drawled, setting his now-empty glass on one of Dumbledore's spindly legged tables.
'In Harry's eyes—ever since he came back from the graveyard—I have seen a shadow,' Dumbledore said, finally raising his gaze to Severus'. 'The shadow of Voldemort. He's inside Harry, somehow, Severus. I can't get too close to him.'
Severus didn't need to ask why, and he didn't question his employer. He had learnt to trust Albus Dumbledore over the years, and when the man said he could see the Dark Lord lurking in the green eyes of Harry Potter, Severus was inclined to believe him. He didn't, however, have to like it.
'And how, if you can't get too close to the boy, do you propose to prepare him to fight the greatest dark wizard to ever terrorise the Earth?' Severus asked.
'I don't know yet.' A shadow crossed over Dumbledore's face before he carried on speaking. 'But the more pressing matter is how do I get Harry back into Hogwarts without having to sit next to him in a courtroom? I cannot risk having Voldemort see into me, Severus. He might find a way to use Harry as a bridge.'
'You cannot be serious,' Severus deadpanned, predicting what favour Albus might want. 'You cannot seriously expect me to swan into the Ministry and get your precious Potter off the hook without rousing the suspicion of the Dark Lord and his followers.'
'A loyalty test,' Dumbledore said with a laugh that did actually brighten his sombre eyes. 'Besides, you are the only one I can send in my stead. Minerva is still abroad and no one— well, you know Severus, I trust you above all else.'
It was hard not to be flattered by such high praise, but Severus didn't let his emotions play out visibly, instead shutting them neatly away inside his mind. He could barely believe what Dumbledore wanted him to do, but the old man was watching him so seriously with such a worried expression that Severus knew the matter was more serious than the other man had actually articulated. He had no choice, really. His friendship with Lily dictated that without his loyalty to Albus even coming into play.
'I'll do it,' Severus said grimly, his words heavy on his tongue. 'But you ask too much of me.'
'I know,' Albus said wearily, running a hand over his face before draining his own glass of Firewhiskey. 'And I thank you, Severus. We need Harry safe at Hogwarts next year, especially if Voldemort is reaching out to others. You had best get off to the Order meeting, hadn't you?'
'You won't be joining us?' Severus asked, rising at the clear dismissal.
'I find myself somewhat weary tonight,' Dumbledore said, remaining seated. 'I'm sure you will fill me in when you return.'
Severus managed a curt nod and swept to the fireplace, his robes billowing behind him. As he reached for the Floo Powder that Albus kept in a particularly garish rose and gold pot, he paused, turning to look at the Headmaster.
'And what if I'm unsuccessful in persuading the Minister?' he asked.
'I have the utmost faith in you,' Dumbledore said, looking at him over his half-moon spectacles. 'Oh, and try not to be as venomous as you usually are, won't you? I imagine Harry and his friends are already dealing with rather a lot right now.'
:::
The meeting was rather quiet due to several notable absences—Remus Lupin, Nymphadora Tonks, and Alastor Moody to name but a few—and Molly Weasley seemed to be brimming with happiness when she informed Severus the missing members were collecting Harry from his Aunt and Uncle's home.
'So Potter is coming here?' Severus asked, his voice echoing in the vast dingy kitchen. The tone of distaste was impossible to miss.
'Got a problem with it Snape?' Sirius Black asked, suddenly leaning across the scrubbed wooden table top. 'Because if you do, you know where they door is. This is my house, after all.'
'As you point out, Black,' Severus said icily. 'This dilapidated ruin is your house, and you a free to fill it with as much tasteless company as you like.'
'Sirius, Severus—enough,' Arthur Weasley snapped firmly, in a tone Severus could only imagine he attempted to use on the uncontrollable Weasley twins. 'We're on the same side, in case you had forgotten. And we have more pressing matters. We need to discuss rotating the guard in the Department of Mysteries.'
They were still discussing the need for the guard, and its size, when they heard a commotion in the hall above them. The portrait of Mrs. Black began to shriek about scum defiling her noble home, and in with the pounding footsteps there was the unmistakeable clunk of a trunk hitting the floor. Severus watched Black bound to his feet like the mutt he so often transformed into and race up the stairs to where his godson was without so much as a backward glance.
The screams of the portrait were cut off, and one by one the Advanced Guard that had collected Harry Potter began to file down the stairs into the kitchen.
'He's so thin,' Molly was muttering as she made her way back down, bringing up the rear with Sirius. 'Looks half starved, the poor dear. I can't wait to get a decent meal into him.'
'If I ever get my hands on his bloody relatives, they won't know what's hit them,' Black growled, his scowl fierce. Apparently he was as dissatisfied with his godson's appearance as Molly was.
'Now, now, Black,' Severus drawled, a sly smile spreading across his face. 'You've already been imprisoned for murdering Muggles. You don't want to further blemish your record, do you?'
For a moment, he thought Black might lunge at him but Moody shot them both warning glares before he popped his magical eye out of the socket.
'Back to business,' the ex-Auror said gruffly, dropping the eye into a glass of water and taking a seat.
Severus spent the rest of the meeting brooding. Not that he would ever admit it, but he had often wondered what kind of woman Petunia Evans, now Dursley, had grown into. As a child and a teenager, she had been cold and cruel; he had found it difficult to imagine marriage changing her that much, but he had always expected her sister's death to soften her. Judging by Black and Molly Weasley's behaviour, her treatment of her nephew might be similar to that of her sister—
But no. Harry Potter was the saviour of the wizarding world, the last trace of Lily Evans on the Earth and surely Petunia would wish to hang onto it. Severus was almost certain there was nothing wrong with Harry's home life, and everyone was simply fussing unnecessarily over the Boy who Lived.
The meeting broke up, and Severus made his way upstairs to find the bathroom before returning home. He had not meant to stumble across the gathering of Potter, Granger, and two Weasleys but he heard their voices drifting through a crack in the door and slowed to listen. Standing on the landing in the shadows, fully away he looked something like an overgrown bat, Severus was hit by the irony of eavesdropping on his students.
'—Dementors at your Aunt and Uncle's is serious, Harry,' Granger was saying, her voice shrill with panic. 'Is your cousin alright?'
'Who cares?' Ronald Weasley said, and Severus could almost imagine him rolling his eyes. 'He's a great bullying git, right Harry?'
'He's—shaken,' Potter replied, but he sounded rather shaken himself. 'I wouldn't wish that on Draco Malfoy, Ron, it was horrible. And Muggles can't see Dementors, so he had no idea what was attacking him. He looked like he was having a nervous breakdown when I last saw him.'
There was a moment's pause, punctuated by the meowing of a cat, and then Granger spoke again.
'But to insist on a disciplinary hearing at the Ministry is preposterous,' she insisted. Severus heard a book slam against a desk and a rustle of pages. 'I've been reading around it and they can't expel you. It's clearly stated right here that magic can be used by an underage wizard in life-threatening situations!'
'Yeah,' Ginny Weasley said. 'But judging by what the Ministry's been publishing in the Prophet, I don't think they care if Harry loses his life. He won't be a problem then, will he?'
'A problem?' Potter asked. 'What do you mean I'm a problem for the Ministry?'
'Stirring up trouble in the community and everything,' Ron said, and Severus pressed slightly closer. 'They think you're lying about You-Know-Who returning to cause mass panic.'
There was a loud crash and the tinkle of breaking glass—it sounded like Potter had thrown something at the wall in anger.
'Why would I lie about Voldemort returning?' Potter all but bellowed. 'It's not like I'm some psychopath who thrives off attention!'
'I would beg to differ,' Severus muttered silkily.
'I'll be lying about there being Dementors next,' Potter continued, sounding irate now. 'Just so they can kick me out of the wizarding world completely. But if people honesty believe that Dementors running around Little Whinging doesn't sound like something dark is going on in the magical community—'
'People are in denial, Harry,' Granger cut in soothingly. 'They've had fourteen years of peace, they don't want to believe that's threatened.'
Severus straightened up and retraced his steps along the dusty passage. Their little conversation had been enlightening—they were clearly thinking along similar lines to Dumbledore, and had noticed the slander in The Daily Prophet. Not that the writing had been particularly subtle, branding Dumbledore as 'insane' and Potter as 'damaged' and 'a brazen liar', but still.
And, most worrying of all, Severus believed that Potter and his cousin had been chased by Dementors. He could hear the edge to the boy's voice and his words had been stained with honesty. Severus didn't like it, not only because he was going to have to assist in getting Potter's record cleared, something which went against his very nature, but also because dark magical creatures in Muggle areas were never a good sign. And especially dark magical creatures allegedly under Ministry control… If the Ministry turned away from Dumbledore and swung in Voldemort's favour, Potter was as good as dead.
'Night, Severus,' Bill Weasley said as they crossed paths on the stairs, offering Severus a smile as he headed upwards.
Severus merely nodded in response. He strode through the front door and down the stop steps of Grimmauld Place, Apparated back to his own small, dark home, and returned to his brewing but he found that he couldn't focus. Loathe as he was to admit it, he couldn't get Harry Potter and the danger the boy was now in out of his mind.
