Hello dear reader, Welcome. I have a couple things to say before we begin. Warnings of sorts. I am a new writer to the Harry Potter fandom. I am doing this for fun. I know some of y'all take things very seriously, if you're looking for JK Rowling 2.0, you aren't finding her here. Move along.

Number one, while a lot of things will be canon, this is an AU. I'm going to do what I want because I can, but I promise that it won't be something like giving Harry wings. And he's not Snape's son. Sorry.

Number two, Severus and Harry are the main characters here. Eventually, they will come to look at each other as family. Especially after an OC is introduced.

Number three, there will be an OC. Why? Well, that's just how I pictured the story going. She's the third part of Harry and Snape's little family (cue the eye rolls), but it definitely won't be love at first sight type of thing because Lily is irreplaceable to both Harry and Severus. I want this story to be one of healing and love in all its forms (plus a lot of drama because I am evil).

Number four, while we are on the topic. Canon pairings except Sev. Considering he dies in canon, that's a given but I like lists so I'm putting it out there in case it wasn't clear enough.

Number five, RATED M. I cannot stress this enough. I will write as it comes to me, but as Severus gets front row seats to Voldemort and to me, the guy is not nice. Things might get nasty.

Number six, I will be making use of outside book canon and fanon. Are you aware of Voldemort and Bellatrix? Please tell me I wasn't the only one not surprised. I mean I was, but I didn't find it that outside the realm of possibility.

Number seven, SPOILERS FROM ALL SEVEN BOOKS. I will be using text from the books (especially the first couple chapters) so If anything looks familiar, assume I'm quoting the books.

Anywho, that is all. If you are still here. Please enjoy. Leave a review.

Snape's Mercies

There is no lesser evil in the choices between early, punctual, and late; rather, Severus would call it more of a decision as to which pain to endure to gain him his desired course. The Dark Lord was not a merciful man— though it could be said he was not a man—full stop. To desire a painful existence graced by the monster himself, tardiness would do it. To desire the chance to walk in and walk out with split possibility of remaining in the physical and/or mental state upon arrived, not a second off on the clock should there be. To rise up to the occasion and eagerly arrive before the Dark Lord's allotted time is the mark of a desperate fool, for it could lead to a pleased master or a most brutal reprimand. Most certainly, Severus was no fool. However, he would privately and bitterly admit only to himself that he was, in fact, desperate.

His master had been none too pleased by his delayed arrival to his summons before. The Dark Lord had once again risen! By means of 'The boy who lived' no less. Lord Voldemort had used Harry Potter's blood to once again powerfully join the land of the living and now with full capability to touch the boy. A joyous occasion, of course. Where had Severus been though? He had been playing faithful servant for Dumbledore, or so Severus had repeatedly insisted upon his first meeting with the psychotic overlord.

Voldemort was not completely convinced however. Severus need not his ability of legilimency (not that he would dare use it on the Dark Lord unless he wished an inevitable, lengthy, and torturous death—living was not exactly a priority, but dying was a luxury he could not afford and even less deserve the reprieve of) to see the monster's lingering distrust.

Reaching the front gates of the Dark Lord's stolen manor, Severus whipped his wand out, the wards shining faintly as they allowed him entrance. His face remained impassive, but along his purposeful strides into the manor, he allowed himself a moment to pity the muggle man that had been murdered to gain this building. The Dark Lord had made quite a show of his execution. He could care less about the muggle, there were no ties between them. He was no one. Just a face with no relevance in his life. Yet, for that reason, it seemed pointless—repulsive—to Severus, the brutality with which he was slayed.

The muggle had begged and begged to be saved, to be spared. No such luck. Potter, it seemed, had left the Dark Lord blood thirsty. As such, every Death Eater present had to stomach the scene of their master sating his thirst. Not that any would complain; Bellatrix, in particular, would have probably gotten some twisted ecstasy from spectating (had she been present and not in Azkaban). Blood and pain like that, for the sake of it, meaningless, had never held Severus' interest.

As he climbed the stairs leading to an open room, he pushed away the twinge of disgust in his chest. No, he did not care. The muggle was dead and there was nothing Severus could have done for him. Shields heavily protecting his mind, he stepped forward before the presence of the Dark Lord. Falling onto his knees, Severus dared not meet his gaze, he lowered his head just above his knees where his hands rested and murmured tonelessly, "My Lord."

"Severus." Voldemort hissed, "You are early."

Keeping his breaths steady, Severus was painfully reminded of his desperation. He could not tell if the man was pleased or not. A shiver of fear trickled over his chest. Though he'd seen the maniac several times before since, their first encounter remained fresh in Severus' mind. For Dumbledore. For Lily. He reminded himself.

His hands slipped from his knees to the floor as he bowed his head lower to join his hands, "I have not arrived early empty handed my Lord. I dare not waste your time."

At this Voldemort spoke almost interested, "Rise and speak, Severus."

Lifting himself, Severus met Voldemort's eyes, "Thank you, my Lord."

He let small pieces of memories of his conversations with Dumbledore slide to the forefront of his mind as he spoke, "Dumbledore is afraid now that you've returned, my Lord."

Voldemort's lips twisted into a satisfied smirk, "Go on."

The moment of truth. Severus had arrived early for a reason. A desperate man would do and say just about anything to meet his gain and here is where his clever mind had led him. The Dark Lord did not trust him completely—not that the snake trusted anyone. The problem for Severus lie in that he did not know how much trust he held in the snake's eyes. That was the main problem. So what could Severus do? Why of course: lie.

"He plans on regrouping the Order of the Phoenix. Headquarters have been placed under the Fidelius Charm with Sirius Black as secret keeper."

The Order of the Phoenix was currently recruiting, that much was true. However, Black was not Secret Keeper. Severus stared steadily at Voldemort. Red eyes watched him skeptically, "Why not make himself Secret Keeper, or better yet, you?"

Severus counted each breath holding onto the pleasant surprise Voldemort hadn't tried to dig deeper into his memories than the usual superficial glance. "Black is under house arrest. With the ministry after him and his animagus form now known by you, he can't really go anywhere. Dumbledore believed it made Black the perfect candidate should he himself meet death."

"Dumbledore is becoming senile." Severus stared motionless as Voldemort smirked, "Is that all?"

"As you know, Potter and Dumbledore are also facing a lot of negative scrutiny. The minister wished to believe you have not returned. For this reason, Dumbledore wishes to distance himself from the boy while the ministry is unaware of your return."

"Dumbledore's winning piece didn't have the influence he thought he would? Not so close are they?"

"No, my Lord."

Voldemort cast him a skeptical look, "You've said so before, I recall. However, Lucius seems to think otherwise."

An urge to beat Malfoy was shoved far into the back of his mind as he responded calmly, "Potter is his favorite student, but Dumbledore likes to keep him at arms length. The 'savior' of that wizarding world is not a chess piece that will give him favorable options at the moment."

"No, of course not." Voldemort spoke almost breathlessly, "And Sirius Black, he is the boy's godfather."

Severus kept quiet and let the truth reflect in his eyes. Voldemort smirked, "Tell me, Severus. Are they close?"

Carefully, Severus considered the question. He couldn't wait too long to respond for the snake would become suspicious. Severus settled with saying, "The mutt is fond of the boy."

"And the boy?" Voldemort purred, "He is as fond?"

Severus paused. The madman seemed lost in thought and before Severus could answered, he spoke.

"Yes. He is." Voldemort's eyes glinted in a way the was both greatly different and unbelievably similar to Albus' characteristic twinkling eyes. It sent a shiver down his spine.

"My Lord...?" Severus let his voice fall into a soothing whisper, hoping to entice the Dark Lord into speaking further. The snake looked pensive for a moment.

"I want the prophecy, Severus." Voldemort said lowly, "I want to hear all of it."

The Dark Lord spoke with anticipation, "Quietly, we shall rebuild our forces and slay Potter at once for all to see what happens when you dare oppose Lord Voldemort."

Severus swallowed air, not daring to ask anymore. Before he could think of saying anything else. Voldemort rose, "Very well, Severus. You have not wasted my time. I will show you mercy. You will be punished for your past incompetence at once."

Ask Severus what transgressions he made that would be deemed incompetent, he wouldn't have be able to say. Although, he had a lingering thought that Voldemort would not be able to either. Perhaps, this was further punishment for his tardiness the night of his master's return. Fear gripped him, but he let it not show. He had only just begun to recover from their last encounter. As Voldemort raised his wand, Severus thought that the reason wasn't really important anymore.

"CRUCIO!"

He didn't fight. His body fell in a heap of robes and twitching limbs. The sensation of thousands of burning knives piercing his skin consuming him as the Dark Lord cast the curse and let it linger. Severus vaguely registered Pettigrew shuffling inside with a goblet on a tray. His throat burned as his screams echoed from his mouth.

When Voldemort finally released him from the curse, his body slumped on the floor. His chest rising and falling heavily as his glazed eyes stared at the ceiling. Taking in the pain in his body, he bundled it and forced his mind to numb it. Rising wobbly, Severus once more stood before the Dark Lord. The only expression flickering on his face being discomfort. Quietly, snake eyes approached as their owner walked to their prey. Obsidian eyes, still blank, held his stare.

Long nails dug into Severus' chin, "So resilient, Severus."

The muscles on Severus' face twitched uncontrollably as Voldemort watched. A result of the Cruciatus. There was nothing Severus could do to control it, he wouldn't try it either. It took too much energy and he would venture to say the Dark Lord gained satisfaction from seeing his handy work.

"You have pleased me, but you understand...that in the end, it is I whom controls everything."

"Yes, my Lord," Severus murmured, "Forgive me for overstepping."

Voldemort's face twisted into a nasty smile, "Clever child, I do believe you had the right intentions."

A sliver of warmth pinched his chest. Could it be? Don't be an idiot, Severus scolded himself. Not a chance Voldemort was done. Voldemort continued, "Hence, I will have you be on your way shortly with the expectation you not disappoint me again."

"Thank you, my Lord. You are most generous."

"Am I?" Voldemort smirked. He didn't allow anymore words as he slashed his wand across Severus' mid-section. Severus flinched.

"Then, you understand why I must do this."

Severus closed his eyes as nails sunk deeper into his chin. Because you're a psychopath, of course. Voldemort spoke again as Severus opened his eyes, "I am not someone to be appeased, Severus. As such, I must punish. But, your arrival today comes not from desperation rather out of eagerness to please. That is correct."

"Yes, my Lord."

Voldemort flicked his wand dangerously near his neck, over his collar bone. Severus grit his teeth from the sting, "Very well."

Nails released his face and a wand lightly traced his cheek. Severus held his breath as the wand poked into his cheek. Voldemort stepped back and slashed his wand again. Severus gasped as his chest, moist with sweat, flared with pain.

Voldemort took a seat and lazily waved a hand, "You may leave once you've finished given me your full report."

"Thank you, my Lord." Severus' body protested miserably as he sunk to his feet.

Voldemort stared at him amused, "Of course, but first—Crucio!"

Severus sprawled face first on the floor in screams. Time went slowly before the Dark Lord was satisfied. When it finished, Severus pushed himself onto his knees knowing standing would be useless. Disclosing rising tensions between Dumbledore and the Minister of Magic as well as expressing the familial bond between Potter and the Weasleys (no doubt Pettigrew had mentioned something already—wouldn't do well to be accused of withholding information), Severus reported the list he had carefully decided could be revealed beforehand.

Finally, Voldemort set him free and as he walked away from the wards of the manor, he let himself feel relief. Bloodied robes sticking to his skin and tired bones and about to foolishly disapperate, he knew Voldemort was just a tad less skeptical and when he went back to search his memory, he'd find something useful. He was sure of it. Eyes sparkling, he pulled his wand thinking of Spinner's End.

Severus was no fool. Unlike Sirius Black, he was not reckless either. However, in a world where he most of his emotions involved anger, resentment, and general undesirable attributes; relief, such as the one he felt, clouded his judgement. The mental and physical strain he'd just endured dulled by his small success became painfully present as soon as his body began to disapperate.

Gritting his teeth he cursed himself. Of course, nothing could ever go right. Accepting his fate, he wondered where he'd land and hoped he wouldn't be splinched. In that regard, the heavens above seemed to grace him the small mercy. Or so he thought.

He could see nothing. Landed in a hole, to the best of his knowledge. However, it didn't take him long to realize the darkness around him was not caused by a hole. If the frigid air around him was anything to go by, he was outdoors and it was impossibly dark—as if someone had turned off the stars. Gripping his wand, he was startled by the sound of footsteps. They stopped and a grating screech burned his ears. A shiver crawled down his spine. Dementors.

Cursing under his breath, he began to cast a lumos—

"DUDLEY, KEEP YOUR MOUTH SHUT! WHATEVER YOU DO, KEEP YOUR MOUTH SHUT! Wand!"

Potter?

"Where's - wand -come on -lumos!"

Oh for the love of—

A spark of light lit the dark down the alleyway. Severus ignored the groan of his muscles and pushed his feet in the direction of the glow. Hopelessness growing with each step. As he neared, he watched with horror as the boy turned over to come face to face with a dark hooded creature he had expected to find.

Severus trembled as he saw the boy stumble and raise his wand, "Expecto patronum!"

A silvery wisp of vapor shot from the tip of the wand and the Dementor slowed, but Severus knew it hadn't worked as it should. The boy fell back and scrambled to make distance between himself and the foul creature.

"Expecto patronum!"

Another wisp of silver smoke, feebler than the last, drifted from the wand. For all his cheek, Severus couldn't remember a time when he heard the boy sound so dim and distant. A pair of grey, slimy, scabbed hands slid from inside the Dementor's robes, reaching for the boy. Severus snapped from whatever was holding him, forgetting any consequence or repercussions of his actions, and reached for a memory of Lily. Her smiling face appeared clearly in his mind as he raised his wand.

"EXPECTO PATRONUM!"

A silver doe sprang from the tip of his wand and charged furiously at the dementor above the boy. Her front legs rose and kicked the hooded figure in the chest with a force one would expect from a mother protecting her fawn. Severus felt his chest twist, how fitting.

The doe stood protectively in front of the boy, her body angled to charge at the dementor that she had thrown off. Severus ran toward the boy. Potter had his eyes glued on the doe as the dementor retreated in defeat.

"Pro-Professor Snape?"

The boy's eyes shifted from the doe onto him. For an instant, he was struck by the color. Lily's eyes. Severus puffed a breath and gripped the boy's elbow. Pulling him upright, he hissed, "What is going on, Potter?"

Narrowing his eyes briefly before confusion took over, Potter responded, "I don't know! They just—showed up—my cousin...Dudley!"

The boy slipped from his grasped and ran down the alleyway. Severus cursed the boy in his head, "Follow him."

The doe sprinted after Potter. He didn't have to travel far, though every step burned. A large boy, Potter's cousin he assumed, was curled up on the ground, his arms clamped over his face. A second Dementor was crouching low over him, gripping his wrists in its slimy hands, prizing them slowly almost lovingly apart, lowering its hooded head towards the boy's face as though about to kiss him.

Potter raised his wand, "Expecto Patronum!"

A large silver stag emerged from the tip of his wand and charged at the dementor nearing the large boy's face. Severus turned to his own Patronus, "Go."

The doe joined the stag charging at the dementor just centimeters from a kiss. Thrown in the air, the dementor staggered and dashed away. Triumphantly, the doe and stag turned to each other. Sniffing in greeting, the doe bumped the stag's nose playfully before dissolving along with the stag. Potter's head snapped back to look at him in shock, Severus, completely exhausted, slapped a hand over his face with a groan. That damn doe is far too friendly for her own good.

Moon, stars and streetlamps burst back to life. A warm breeze swept the alleyway. Severus let his hand drop. With the dementors, the frigid hopelessness left as well. Though it was a relief to no longer feel as if everything was lost, he sighed. Things were far from okay. Voldemort. The Cruciatus. The lacerations that still needed to be healed. A failed apparition attempt. Dementors. Casting a Patronus. Severus winced. Well, at least he wasn't splinched. Walking to the boys, he ignored the agony of each step. Potter, seemingly having the same idea, turned to his cousin whom lay whimpering. Green eyes, wide with confusion, looked at him for answers, "Professor Snape, what-"

Loud hurried footsteps echoed in the alleyway. What now?

The boy rose to his feet drawing his wand. Severus moved in front of him, shielding the boy with his body, and gripped his own wand tightly under his sleeve. He supposed today was one of subtle mercies as Arabella Fig came panting into sight. Her grizzled grey hair was escaping from its hairnet, a clanking string shopping bag was swinging from her wrist and her feet were halfway out of her tartan carpet slippers. He raised his wand as she paused.

"Severus? What are you doing here?" She asked flabbergasted. Her voice rose into a shriek, "Oh, nevermind! I'm glad you're here. I'm going to kill Mundungus Fletcher!"

Severus scowled. Try anyone stop him, the pleasure of killing Fletcher would be his.