School: Beauxbatons
Theme: Werewolves
Prompts: [Theme] - Severitus (Main Prompt); [Action] Stun/Stupefy; [Object] Invisibility Cloak - Restriction - Cannot be used by Harry Potter
Year: 6
Word Count: 3,300
Author's Note: I started this off by exploring the consequences if it had been Severus Snape - and not Hagrid - who had been the one to go to Godric's Hollow the night of the Potters' murders. I ended up feeling like I could have written 100k words on this, but I have been given a 3.3k limit, so please forgive me for my brevity in places. Who knew Severitus could be so interesting to write? This is my first time even thinking about it, much less writing it, but I feel like it may not be my last. I hope you enjoy.
"It's happened," Albus said. He and Severus stood in his office. Both appeared alarmed, their faces white. "Take this," he insisted, handing Severus a silvery cloak from within his desk drawer. "It's James's; I was inspecting it." His face showed grief: James could have - should have - had this with him. "You must go to Godric's Hollow - see if there are any survivors-"
He could say no more, but didn't have to. Severus had slung the cloak about his shoulders and fled from the room.
/
To see the destruction resulting from his treachery pierced Severus. Every splinter of wood, every broken brick, was his fault. Perhaps Albus had thought he deserved this pain, to see first-hand what his mistakes had cost. Severus could not disagree.
He found James, then Lily - beautiful Lily - dead upon the floor. He fell to his knees, deep sobs racking his body. Severus could feel the curse lingering in the air, could sense the explosion of power that had happened in this room. And he saw, through bleary eyes, a baby in a cot with a smear of blood upon his forehead. Alive.
The roar of a motorcycle outside forced his quick decision. Severus reached into the cot, took the sleeping child in his arms and Apparated to the Hogwarts gates.
/
Minerva, Severus, and Albus stood in the Headmaster's office. The baby lay asleep in a cot beside the desk.
"Petunia is Lily's only remaining blood," Albus explained. "Harry will be protected there."
"And at what cost?" Severus asked, his eyes pained. "Petunia is loathsome. She will stifle him and his magic. He will turn inward."
Albus's face drew tight, the sparkle in his eye long extinguished. He knew what suppressing magic could do to a child. Could he allow the fate of this boy to resemble Ariana's? He looked sorrowful and uncertain. "That is a risk, and one I'm not sure I am prepared to take." He paused. "But who will care for him? He has no other family,"
"Sirius Black was always close to the Potters," offered Minerva.
"So I thought," agreed Albus, "but he was the Potters' Secret Keeper. It is the only way I can fathom Lord Voldemort found them."
"Black?" asked Severus, his face flitting between disbelief and hatred.
"Lupin?" said Minerva.
"Lupin, I believe, would decline." There was a moment of silence. "Severus… perhaps it should be you."
"Me?" He was stunned, and didn't have the words to articulate exactly how stunned. "On what grounds? I'm not any relation of his."
"No. But I can think of no one who could better prepare him for when Voldemort does, inevitably, return. It is either this, or Petunia, or an orphanage: a fate I would rather not give him."
Severus stared into the bundle of cloth. He realized he'd never even held a baby before.
"I am certain Lily Potter would have wanted her son to be brought up by someone who knew her - someone she cared for."
Harry moved suddenly, blinking his drowsy, emerald eyes. They were exactly like Lily's.
"I..." Severus began, before falling silent.
He didn't know why he was considering this. Maybe because he'd grown up in a house with no love and knew that was what the Dursleys offered. Perhaps because he knew Petunia, and knew she could only bring Harry misery. He suddenly felt he could not allow this to happen: another lost boy unanchored, another which could be led astray. He didn't see Harry laying in those blankets - he saw himself.
"I… I'll do it," he found himself saying.
Minerva looked shocked. "Albus - is there no one else-"
"I'll do it," insisted Severus, with a tone of finality that stunned even himself.
As he looked into the cot, he realized that throughout his twenty-one years, every choice he'd made had been wrong. Perhaps it was time to make a correct one.
/
Harry grew up at Hogwarts, within the magical world but still removed from the public eye. He learned to walk under the ancient trees of the Forbidden Forest with Hagrid at his side, spent lazy summer days in the gardens accompanied by Professor Sprout, and bundled up in front of Minerva's fireplace on winter nights, sipping hot chocolate supplied by the House Elves. Always, just nearby, was a black shadow which followed him - his guardian, teacher, and carer.
These were roles Severus had been woefully unprepared for what they would entail and how they would change him. His life felt no longer his own: it belonged generally and most immediately to Harry. Every sickness, every nightmare, every bad day was his to suffer, but then every laugh and embrace was his to share. It scared and humbled him, knowing that Harry depended upon him completely. And Severus took this charge seriously. He had to do this right - for Lily.
Severus was not overly emotional or loving but was constant, an anchor, dependable to the point of unyielding. There were always potions brewing, books to read, and he instilled his own curiosity in Harry. Severus taught him to read and write, to think before he acted, to try and try again - lessons a father would usually teach his son. But Harry was 'Harry' and he, 'Severus,' for he didn't want to pretend to be something he wasn't. No one could doubt who Harry's father was, and it was not Severus - the strict, greasy-haired, skulking Potions master.
However, the thought that Harry could have been his own son if he hadn't made certain mistakes consumed him. Sometimes he even allowed himself to wish it. He berated himself. It shouldn't matter, or change the way he thought about Harry. It surely wouldn't have made anything easier. But there were times when he looked at Harry, and the light would catch his face in such a way that Severus could only see James, and Severus would feel resentful once more.
Luckily, Harry grew up with the knowledge of exactly who his parents were, their memories beloved and presence at Hogwarts still tangible. Harry found his father's name etched upon a Quidditch plaque in the Trophy Room. He opened a book in the library to find the name "Lily Evans" scrawled among the borrower list. These moments felt like presents they'd left him to find in his own time, reminders that they had truly existed. When Harry was sorted into Gryffindor, Severus felt a mixture of emotions. It was as though something of Lily - and James - was still alive within Harry after all this time. And in this way, although his parents were gone, Harry felt like they had never truly left him.
But there was plenty Harry didn't know. He'd never been told the exact conditions leading to his parent's death, or that Severus had once been a Death Eater. These, Severus felt, would be too earth-shattering to reveal. He promised himself he would tell Harry when he was old enough to understand, but wondered if Harry ever would be able to understand - or to forgive. Severus didn't feel these things were forgivable. How could Harry look at him in the same way when revealed that his parents' deaths were utterly Severus's fault? How could Harry forgive Albus, who agreed Harry should be in this man's care? These dark secrets haunted him, knowing someday their revelation might cause an irreparable rift between him and the boy he raised as his own.
/
The carefully constructed web began to tangle in Harry's fourth year. Harry was in mortal danger as a Triwizard competitor, and soon after the competition started their scars regularly began to burn - Harry's lightning bolt, and Severus's Dark Mark.
One afternoon, Harry came unexpectedly into Severus's office. Severus had been marking papers, but quickly laid down his quill.
"Is anything… the matter?" Severus asked. "You don't look yourself."
"Why didn't you tell me?" Harry's eyes were suddenly full of angry tears. "That you were a Death Eater?"
"Harry…" he began, but he faltered. "Who said it?" He stood up from his desk, his hands balled into fists. "Tell me," he insisted. His black eyes suddenly bored into green, and Harry looked away as Severus's mind intruded his.
"No, stop-"
Severus looked away, ashamed of himself in more ways than one. "People will say what they like, but it doesn't make it true."
"But it is true - isn't it?"
Severus looked pained. "I was a Death Eater, once. That doesn't make me one forever."
"But you have the Mark," Harry insisted.
"Yes, I do, and unless I were to cut off my arm it will always be there. A mark on my arm doesn't prove my allegiance now." His jaw clenched. More evenly, he asked, "Who told you?"
"Dumbledore showed me the memory of Karkaroff's trial."
"I shall have to have a word with Albus, then."
When his office door closed behind Harry, Severus felt a rage he hadn't felt in years. He overturned a table, shattered several glass vials, and knocked over a cauldron. He had so desperately wanted to protect Harry from this knowledge, needed his trust. How could Albus tell him now, with whispers of the Dark Lord's return on everyone's lips?
/
And when the Dark Lord did return, their futures became even more uncertain.
They attended Order meetings, where Harry sensed there was not much trust between Severus and the others. It was only with Dumbledore's backing and Severus's own espionage that he was accepted at all. Harry had to admit Severus did himself no favors, with his temper and thinly veiled contempt for the likeable Sirius Black.
Harry became worried by his guardian's frequent summons. He didn't know where he went, whose bidding he was doing, but noticed when Severus rubbed his forearm in pain - which happened alarmingly often. Severus would not speak to him about it, but his attempt to protect Harry unwillingly caused him to become suspicious. Harry remembered Moody's words - once a Death Eater, always one - and he didn't know what to think. He was torn between the man he knew Severus Snape to be, and the one he'd once been.
Severus had always anticipated the Dark Lord's return, and knew Harry's life depended upon his preparedness. Severus had begun training Harry as soon as he was allowed a wand. Never turn your back to an opponent. Always have your wand at the ready. Disarm first, defend second, attack third.
A wariness was required that Harry didn't innately have. Never trust a stranger. Never touch an unknown magical object. Always ascertain the identity of someone entering your home. Severus had devised his own knock for the door to their chambers, so Harry knew who was entering. Three knocks in a row, then a sharp rap. Sev-er-us Snape.
Harry was a good student, but to Severus's dismay could never master self-control. He performed poorly at Occlumency, lacked discipline, and his temper would always bring out Severus's. They could only practice so much before headway became impossible, but it seemed important to try, especially now.
"Umbridge can't prevent us from practicing here," Severus said, his back to one wall of the living room and Harry's back to the other. "Wand ready, Harry - you must never forget to have your wand ready. Stupefy!" Severus exclaimed, without warning.
Harry instinctively parried it with, "Protego!" and cast his own, "Expelliarmus!"
But Severus had expected this, and parried it away. They continued, both sending spells which fizzed and popped across the room, their powers matched.
Harry quickly sent a string of spells which Severus struggled to deflect, finally hitting his teacher with, "Flipendo!"
Harry watched as Severus was sent backwards, hitting the wall before slumping over. Harry ran and knelt at his side, expecting him to be angry.
"Very good," Severus panted as he sat up, his lips curling at the edges. His eyes took in Harry as though seeing him anew. "Very good."
/
Memories of Tom Riddle. Horcruxes. Lies and terrible truths. Over time Harry became distant, uncertain, growing up under the weight of a task too impossible for any one person to complete. Severus also became withdrawn, spending many nights away when summoned by one master or another. The danger of Severus's position - regardless of his true allegiance - was not lost on Harry, and he became frightened for him.
And with a flash of green atop the Astronomy tower, Harry's whole world changed. He didn't know what to believe anymore.
He did the only thing that made any sense. He found Ron and Hermione, and he left.
He did not look back.
/
Harry noticed the black shadow against the white of the snow.
"Ron - go to the tent, follow the path. I'll be a moment." Harry knew who had left the sword; he would know that doe anywhere.
He walked through the snowy undergrowth until he found himself standing in front of a man who was now a stranger to him.
Harry drew himself up to his full height. Severus only had an inch on him now. "How could you?"
"Trust me."
"How-"
"Trust me," he insisted, his black eyes cold and hard, his expression inscrutable.
Harry's jaw tightened.
"How many?" Severus asked quickly, knowing he couldn't stay long.
Harry paused before muttering, "The locket - just the locket."
"Two more, and a snake to kill," Severus stated.
But Severus had known - for some time - that before him stood the seventh Horcrux, the one the Dark Lord hadn't intended to make. He didn't think Harry knew, yet. How much time until Harry would no longer be spared the knowledge, until he realized the cruelest hand fate had dealt him? Dealt them both? Severus had fed and raised this boy into a man, seen him at his happiest and worst, healed his wounds and trained his mind. And for what? For him to walk towards Death, and allow it to take him.
He raised his right hand - his wand hand - and Harry instinctively reached into his robes. But Severus was wandless. He placed his palm upon Harry's shoulder, squeezing it gently. Before Harry could say anything, and before Severus could betray his emotions, he removed it, turned, and Disapparated.
Harry - half-drowned, tired, and angry, not knowing if he had just handed information to Voldemort's closest supporter, not knowing when or if he would see Severus again - fell to his knees and wept.
/
Xenophilius Lovegood. Snatchers. Malfoy Manor. Shell Cottage. Gringotts. So many near misses and lucky escapes, and then the inevitable.
The battle raged at Hogwarts. Harry, hunting madly for the last Horcruxes, watched as his home and loved ones were destroyed. He couldn't bear this, watching others die for him. He only wanted it to be over.
He suddenly saw into Voldemort's mind, heard him request Lucius bring Severus to him, and was seized with fear. Without telling anyone else, he slipped underneath his Invisibility Cloak and found his way to the Whomping Willow, then up the passage and into the Shrieking Shack.
He witnessed it all: the snake in the glittering cage, the talk of the Elder wand, then - unable to do anything to stop it - Nagini striking Severus again and again.
As soon as Voldemort was gone, Harry removed his cloak and fell to his knees at Severus's side. Grief had silenced him.
"Harry," Severus gasped, shocked. Blood and pearly memories poured out of him. He gestured towards them. "Take them," he choked.
Harry conjured a flask and silently began placing the memories into it. His trembling hands then found his mokeskin pouch, depositing the memories before pulling out several other vials. He uncorked a blood-replenishing potion and held it to Severus's lips, but it dripped down Severus's throat and out through his tattered neck. Harry held his wand to the wounds, chanting, "Vulnera sanentur… vulnera sanentur…" watching them sew up and then, horrifyingly, split open again. Severus's body began to contract and shake.
"How… many?" Severus choked.
"What?" Harry was so shaken he couldn't think straight.
"Hor...cruxes. How many?"
Harry held another trembling vial to Severus's lips, pouring out a soothing solution. "Just the snake, that's all," he reassured. "Then it's him." But Harry couldn't think of that now. He ripped at his robe, pouring out Murtlap Essence upon the fabric which he pressed to Severus's neck as a makeshift bandage. He didn't know if it would help, but he had to try. Severus had always taught him the importance of trying.
"What were... others?" Severus rasped. He seemed weaker every second, as though he might slip away if he didn't keep talking, stay focused.
"Ravenclaw's diadem, in the Room of Requirement. And Hufflepuff's cup, in the LeStrange's vault. We flew out of Gringotts on a dragon this morning," Harry explained, almost in disbelief. It felt like a lifetime had passed since then.
"You really are... just like… James," Severus remarked. He coughed again, swallowing another potion Harry offered him. It was the last one.
Harry looked stricken. "When are you ever going to say that I'm like you?"
Severus appeared stunned, then looked away. Harry checked under the bandages, but the wounds weren't healing fast enough, and Severus had lost so much blood.
"Harry... the memories... I should have…" he mumbled. "Forgive me."
"I forgive you, for whatever they hold," he said, his voice full of despair. "I trust you."
Severus's eyes rolled back into his head as he began losing consciousness. "Go," he said. "No time."
"I'm not leaving you until I... put a stopper in death, like you taught me," his voice cracked. Harry, not knowing what else to do, reached for the Invisibility Cloak at his side.
"I don't need… your cloak."
"You're weak," Harry said, his voice breaking again. "What if he comes back? I can't lose you too." He looked away, the truth too terrible to acknowledge. Severus had lost too much blood.
"Go. I'll find you... after…" he choked. Within this promise was the hope not only that he would survive, but that Harry would too. It seemed impossible. "I wish…" he stopped. "Harry… I would be so proud... to have a son... like you."
Harry's green eyes filled with tears as they held the black. He shook his head, placing his hand upon Severus's shoulder. "I am," he gasped, drawing in a ragged breath. "I am your son."
He watched Severus's eyes grow misty before embracing him, feeling once more like a boy - one that did not know if he would find the safety of these arms ever again.
After another sharp gasp, Harry reluctantly let go. He ensured Severus was as comfortable as he could be, spreading the Invisibility Cloak over him like a blanket. Harry got to his feet, steeled himself, and walked out of the room, knowing if he didn't leave now he would never be able to.
Severus's body relaxed, the floorboards creaking under his weight as he let go.
/
Harry paced restlessly in their chambers, in pain and shock.
It was all over. He felt unmoored, as separate from himself, his past, and his future as a ghost. He had seen the memories, knew now why exactly he stood in these rooms, but despite this knowledge he felt more lost than ever. What he needed most was an explanation from the man who always made sense, who could always put broken pieces back together again.
But Severus wasn't there. Harry didn't know what to do, and berated himself that he hadn't gone straight to the Shack after the battle.
Severus should have been back by now. Every passing second felt as though it sealed his fate. Every moment, Harry was more sure Severus had died, bled out, and it was too late, much too late...
There were three quiet knocks in a row, then a weak rap upon the wooden door.
Harry watched as the handle began to turn.
End Author's Note: I apologize again for my brevity! There were many more characters and scenes I would have liked to have included. It seems cruel that we don't see any Ron and Hermione, or Harry's relationship with Remus and Sirius, or any of the many other people who influenced Harry's life in canon (the Weasley's! Neville! Luna! Ahhh!). But in this story, I wanted to explore Harry's relationship with the character most central to his development in this AU - Severus. Because there are so many scenes I couldn't write, you're going to have to fill in the gaps a bit with your own imagination! I tried to align the story as close to canon as possible.
A story should be able to speak for itself, so I hope it is satisfactory without this explanation. But in case anyone was wondering about the ending, I would like to think the reason why Severus survives is because he was hidden from Death under Death's Invisibility Cloak, like the third brother in the story. It is, of course, a literal usage of the item from the Tale of the Three Brothers, but if the Elder Wand is really an all-powerful wand, and the Resurrection Stone really can bring back shadows of people from beyond the dead, perhaps you can literally hide from Death itself under the Cloak? Food for thought.
I might come back to this one at some point in the future - we'll have to see!