Go the Distance

In my imagination this is where the real AU starts…meeting with Lucius Malfoy and starting to work for the Dark Lord could lead back to the canon Snape we all know and love, but that's not where this story is going.

In case there was any doubt, I don't own the Harry Potter series or any recognizable characters.

Severus tensed, scanning the crowd. It wasn't particularly thick, but there were enough people that he should be able to disappear. The man was in the shop doorway now…no, he'd turned back to chat for a moment longer with Madam Malkin. "Merlin's beard, would you quit being polite and get out here?" Snatch-and-grab was the best option he'd come up with…he'd considered stealing clothes off a line while they were drying, but there was the little matter of finding something nice enough to get him through the door of Martols while still fitting. Difficult to tell without trying them on. Life would be so much easier if he could use his magic right now. The man he'd picked out of the crowd earlier finally stepped out of the shop, and Severus pushed himself away from the building and got a running start. The weight advantage wasn't on his side, but surprise was, and the man took a moment to collect himself after he'd landed on the cobblestones before shouting at the crowd to stop him. Fortunately for Severus most of the onlookers seemed too confused to stun him immediately, and he dodged among several different clusters of people before slipping down a side alley. He could hide here until the commotion died down and then find somewhere to change and freshen up. He still had no money, but if Lucius asked he'd simply claim that he wasn't hungry. And hope his stomach didn't give him away. The box he'd stolen from the man, 'Madame Malkins Robes for All Occasions' printed across the top, was still clutched in his off hand, and he was turning it over to check that it hadn't opened when a rough hand closed on the back of his neck.

"And what have we got here?"

Severus twisted, trying to pull away from his captor, only to be forcibly turned to look up at two hard blue eyes. He began to bring up his wand automatically.

"Put it down, lad, or you won't like what I'll do next."

He realized abruptly that his captor had a wand in his free hand already aimed…and wore the uniform of an Auror. One of the few things his grandparents and his mother had been in agreement on was that Aurors weren't people to be underestimated. Nor trusted offhand. Still, he wasn't an idiot, and he dropped the tip of his own wand to point at the ground although he didn't put it away.

"What have you got there, Alastor?" a new voice, lighter than that of his captor, asked. A redheaded man a bit younger than the first and also in Auror's robes had come up behind the one holding him. He studied Severus for a moment and then shook his head with a sigh. "Ah, he's too scrawny to keep. Toss him back, and we'll go get some lunch."

The Auror with the grip on the back of his neck snorted. "Easier when you catch 'em young." Both eyes narrowed on Severus. "Run and you'll regret it." He released his grip abruptly and took the box away—although his wand still remained firmly on target—passing the box back to the redhead who started chuckling when he opened it.

"Well, congratulations, boy, this is quite a lovely maternity robe you've snatched. Who's the lucky lady?"

Severus gaped for a moment. The man had been approximately his size albeit several years older…Severus assumed that he'd been picking up robes for himself. "Bloody hell."

That drew chuckles out of both Aurors, and then the redhead closed the box. "I'll go return this to its proper owner."

"I'll take this one to the Ministry and sort him out and then meet you and Fabian at the café."

The first Auror shifted the crutch under the arm he'd been holding his wand in, and then his heavy hand closed on the back of Severus' neck for a second time. They arrived in the Ministry a moment later. Before he could do anything beyond opening his mouth to object, his wand was snatched away and tucked inside his captor's robes. "I'll be keeping this for a bit, just in case you're tempted to use it."

It wasn't until they started walking and Severus noticed the older man's uneven gait that he realized that the reason the Auror had a crutch was that he was missing the lower part of one leg. How the man had managed to sneak up on him…maybe a silencing spell? He couldn't believe he'd been that unobservant. The redhead had called him Alastor, but the injury triggered something in his memory. Grandfather shouting about some crippled Auror a year or two ago…he'd gone on at great length, red with rage, and Severus had had high hopes for a heart attack. Mostly Grandfather had referred to the man with various curses, but Severus could have sworn he'd mentioned an actual name as well. "Moody?"

"What?" the Auror snapped.

"Is that your name?"

"Aye."

The fact that his grandparents hated the man was actually a point for him in Severus' opinion, or at least it would have been if he was inclined to think favorably about anyone who was likely going to get him killed. He was guided—with a grip around his upper arm that could just as easily have been used to drag him if Severus had resisted—down several levels and into a room empty of all but a table and two chairs. Severus was deposited in one; Moody took the other. With a sharp rap on the table with his wand, a stack of papers appeared in front of the Auror. "All right then, you know who I am. Who are you?"

Severus kept his mouth shut, and the Auror's stare hardened. "You'll be telling me one way or the other, lad, I'd suggest doing it now and saving yourself some trouble."

He was fifteen years old and wasn't about to give in to blatant intimidation, keeping his face blank through years of practice. After a moment of silence, Moody pulled out Severus' wand. "One of Ollivander's unless I'm very much mistaken. Did you know that he remembers every wand he's ever sold…and the wizard to whom he sold it?"

Severus remembered that the wandmaker had identified his mother and her wand the moment she'd stepped into the shop back before his first year at Hogwarts, and he knew she hadn't been in Diagon Alley for at least eleven years before that. "Snape," he muttered grudgingly.

"Snape?" Moody's frowned deepened. "Don't recognize the name."

"My father is a muggle." See how he took that.

"Ah."

Severus couldn't read anything in his tone, which in general was not a good thing.

"First name."

Well, as long as he'd given his last…. "Severus."

His name was recorded appropriately, and the line flashed green. "First time offender?" He seemed surprised, studying Severus a bit closer. "Well, that's something, I suppose. Where do you live?"

He shrugged, and the Auror shook his head. "First time offender or not, there will be a hearing for this. They'll likely go a bit more easily on you if you cooperate."

Not quite as threatening as he'd been acting earlier, but still Severus didn't say anything. The man growled slightly. "I'm likely to go a bit more easily on you if you don't make me miss my lunch. You said your father is a muggle—do you live with him?"

"No."

"Your mother then?"

He swallowed and looked away. "She died just after Easter."

"I'm sorry, lad."

His tone actually seemed sincere, Severus realized, though completely devoid of any pity. Unfortunate since at this point that might come in handy; though the idea of using his mother's death to benefit him in any way made him feel more than slightly ill.

"Who are you staying with now, then?"

His jaw tightened. "I'm not going back there. You can't make me."

That seemed to amuse Moody more than anything else. "We'll see about that. I daresay your guardian—whoever that might be—won't be pleased with this little development, but it'd be best to have it over and done with." He looked back at the form with a shake of his head when Severus made no move to respond. "Age?"

"Fifteen."

"You go to Hogwarts?"

"Yes."

"Just finished your fourth year, then, or were you a young fifth year?"

"Fourth."

"Do well in your courses?"

"Well enough." At least in his opinion he had, no matter what his grandparents had to say about it.

"What's your best subject?"

"Potions." There was no place for this information to be written on that little form, though…he suspected it was an attempt by the Auror to put him at ease. A clumsy and not particularly effective one since it still had all the signs of an interrogation rather than a conversation, but at least it was an attempt.

"What prompted you to pull that little stunt? A dare? Can't imagine you have a real need for maternity clothes."

Severus shrugged, tugging at his stained sleeve. "I needed a new robe. I thought he was picking up something for him."

"Ah." Moody glanced down at the form for a moment. "You realize that your options are pretty limited now, right lad? We aren't going to just let you go, so you can either tell me who your guardian is, or I can put you in a holding cell until someone has time to do the research. Either way someone is going to be contacted."

"I'm not going back there!" Severus repeated sharply.

"Your choice, then." He pushed his chair back and stood, tucking the crutch back under his arm. "Come along."

The room Severus was put in was even smaller than the last—although he hadn't been half-dragged there which was something of an improvement—and had no furniture at all. The only window was a small square in the door that was too cloudy to see through, and taking a moment to be glad that he wasn't claustrophobic Severus slid down to sit against the wall. They'd find out about his grandparents easily enough…now that they had his name and knew he attended Hogwarts it would be no trouble at all to get his records. And then…. He swallowed hard. And then nothing good would happen. His grandparents might play nicely in front of the Aurors, but as soon as they were alone together he was in trouble. He was good at Defense—almost as good as he was a potions—but they could still inflict damage far faster than he could block their curses. And there were some curses couldn't be blocked.

He wasn't sure how long he sat in the cramped grey room before the door opened again. Moody, and he stood quickly. The man was intimidating enough when Severus was on his feet, looking up at him from the ground did nothing for Severus' confidence levels. "Let's have a talk, lad."

"I thought we did this already," Severus muttered as he was led back to the first room he'd been in, or at least one so like it that it made no difference.

"I've got a few more questions to ask."

This time when the forms were called to the table they were filled in a bit more completely, and Severus did his best to hide his wince when he saw that Percival and Edwina Prince were listed as primary guardians.

"Your mother was Eileen Prince."

It was a statement, not a question, but Severus nodded anyway.

"And your father was a muggle?"

That was a question, and he nodded a second time.

Moody's eyes were narrow, boring into Severus' as if he trying to read his mind. "Your grandparents aren't known for being…tolerant…of—"

"My grandparents are pureblood fanatics," Severus said with some disgust. "Anyone who knows them knows that."

"Well, then, you see my problem with this whole situation."

The silence drew out for nearly fifteen minutes before Severus gave in. "Mother left school in her sixth year and ran off to marry a muggle. A year later I was born. Several years later she finally realized that we just couldn't fit into the muggle world, no matter what we did, and returned to her parent's house. For some reason—no one ever explained it to me—she wasn't capable of having any more children at that point, so…." He shrugged. "Their choices were to take me as well or have the bloodline die out." Which was anathema to a pureblood family, though at this point they probably saw it as the lesser of two evils. The greater being keeping him as their heir.

Before Moody could respond, the door opened and another redheaded Auror—his features were similar to the one that had been in the alley earlier but not quite the same—stepped in. "Well, Mr. Snape, you seem to be quite an amazing young man."

Severus stared.

"According to your grandparents, at this very moment you're on a train to Egypt for your summer holidays. In fact, they got an owl from you just last night about how awful the food is. You know, if I were you I'd use that wonderful ability to being in two places at once for something a bit more creative than stealing ladies' clothing in Diagon Alley."

"Somehow anyone at that estate whom they don't want us to speak to manages to be 'out of the country' whenever we stop by to visit," Moody said dryly. "However, it does leave us with a bit of a conundrum. I've had some…experience…dealing with the Princes in the past, and I take it from your earlier responses that if we were to drop you off this evening things would not go well for you."

It wasn't a question, though for a moment Severus considered repeating his refusal to go back for a third time. It only took a few seconds to decided that since neither Auror seemed inclined to haul him back at this particular instant he should keep his mouth shut.

"Unfortunately, we can't precisely keep you here at the Ministry—we aren't equipped for it by any stretch of the imagination—and I'd be more than a bit uncomfortable sticking a lad your age in Azkaban. It's been done, certainly, but generally for crimes considerably worse than minor thievery."

"Incompetent minor thievery at that," a second redhead added in the background.

Severus glared at him, noting that this one was the one he'd seen earlier, but most of his attention was on Moody. "So…what's going to happen?" Somehow he didn't think they were just going to release him, despite the fact that from his point of view that seemed to solve most of the problems in front of them. He still had to worry about what he was going to wear to meet Lucius tomorrow, but he'd worry about that later.

"House arrest, I suppose. Of a sort, at least, since normally it would be served in your own place of residence; in this case we'll have to figure out somewhere else to send you."

"He could come with us," one of the redheads offered, the one who'd gone to the Prince estate. "Fabian Prewett, at your service. That's Gideon, my brother in case you couldn't tell."

"He'd be better off in Azkaban," Moody returned. "Being confined with you two would drive anyone mad in the space of two days. What about that sister of yours?"

"The boys have been sick so I'm not sure she's up for taking in another," the other responded.

Especially one who was awaiting a Ministry trial, he didn't add, though Severus didn't have any trouble reading it in his eyes.

"Why don't you just take him with you?" Gideon asked, reaching around his brother to nudge Moody's shoulder. "You've got the room, and he's not likely to be able to slip past those watch-bins of yours in the middle of the night."

He actually seemed to be considering the idea, which surprised—and worried—Severus. "Suppose we can't precisely go calling on Wizarding family services for help. All right then, we'd best get going." Some of Severus' dismay must have shown in his expression, because he chuckled slightly. "It's hardly a permanent solution, lad; we'll find somewhere else to put you until the hearing soon enough I'm sure."