Severus Snape, Remus Lupin, and Hermione Granger had dragged off their children to the Staff Room, where they had privacy to lecture the children. Severus stood in the corner, a formidable pillar of black, his arms crossed across his broad chest, his eyes resting on his little boy. The professors all glared at the children, Remus Lupin lecturing the children rapidly and sternly, his voice gruff and sharp, Hermione's hands moving rapidly in translations for Samuel, whose eyes had lost its mischievous glint.
"Do you realize the damage you could have done, you three? You could have harmed myself, your mother, or Professor Snape. Also, if you have any questions of the delicate sort, you must have more sense to ask us in privacy instead of public like the Great hall.. where do you get these ideas...?" Remus Lupin asked in exasperation, turning to glance at the black-haired boy who stared back with a frown, his eyes watching Hermione's movements.
"Sorry, Mr. Lupin. It won't happen again." Samuel signed, his hands slow and droopy as he sniffled, glancing at Holly Granger. He knew they would have to try again. He could tell his Daddy loved miss Mione, the way he had looked after the kiss, his eyes were all bright and shiny, and he had been smiling. His daddy had never smiled, not in the time he had known his daddy. That was a good thing, Samuel thought as he smiled at Remy, who looked pale and drawn from the vicious lecture he had gotten from Mr. Lupin. Well, at least he didn't have to listen to their voices as they yelled, Samuel thought with a small smile on his lips. It was nice being deaf sometimes.
Severus glanced at his son, motioning for him to follow his father down to the dungeons for a private lecture of his own. He knew to spare the boy embarassment in front of his new friends. The two headed down to the dungeons in silence, Samuel knowing what would happen when they arrived to the dungeons. After all, he was deaf, not dumb.
"Before you say anything, Daddy, Remember how you felt when you kissed Miss Mione, how good it felt for you?" Samuel said with a small smile, turning to face his father fully in the face. "You can't lie to me, I know you liked it. I want you to be happy, and I want a mum, and Miss Mione is a perfect Mum for me. All little boys need a mum and a little sister. Miss Mione isn't stupid, and she is pretty, and she loves you." Samuel lectured his father in a tirade, his hands moving rapidly so he would have a chance to say what he had to say before his father interrupted him.
Severus stared at the little boy before him, puzzled. How did a seven year old boy manage to pin down his emotions and entire facade after living with him only a short while? It had taken his colleagues and Albus years before they had even managed to recgonize the spark of happiness in his eyes for what it was, when he had it.
"Samuel, how can you be so sure that Hermione is in love with me, and not the idea of me? Some women, they like the idea of a bad man who has changed into a good man. I don't know why. How can you be so sure that she loves me?"
"She said so, Daddy. I saw her, she said she loves you, and will love you forever. I know she loves you because you are a good daddy and a good man and everything." Samuel said with a trademark know-it-all nod of his. Severus sat back, studying his son with a critical eye.
The boy was too thin, he could see his ribs, his wrists, and his collarbone with startling clarity. Scars riddled the boy's wrists, and the edge of an angry red welt could be seen peeking under the collar of his shirt. A side of his leg was mangled, the flesh scarred pernamently. Faded marks on his ankles and wrists indicated that he had been chained up for long periods of time, long ago. Yet, despite everything the boy had gone through, he was staring at Severus with a bright, genuine smile on his lips and a spark of life in his eye.
This boy was special, indeed. One of a kind, Severus thought with a small smile as he rose from his seat.
"Bedtime."
"Daddy! but I haven't finished my potion." Samuel moaned, his hands flinging everywhere as he signed, exaggerating his motions to make himself look pitful.
"You can finish it in the morning, Samuel. Off to bed with you." Severus said with an wary eye. "Or do I have to throw you in the room?"
"I'll go." Samuel said with a glint of genuine fear in his eye as he hurried away from the room, the memory of that stab of fear lingering into Severus's mind. Tonight, Severus thought. Tonight, he would find out what made that boy tick. It would make fathering him so much easier. Samuel was unpredictable, happy and sunny one moment, and fearful of everything the next moment. With a weary sigh, Severus walked off to his bedroom, to make himself comfortable for some Legilimency. He would deal with Hermione in the morning. For right now, his son was his first priority.
Laying down on the bed, Severus's mind reached out to brush Samuel's, the tiniest bit. The boy had only just begun to drift off to sleep. Right on schedule, Severus thought with a sad sigh as he began slowly but surely prodding the boy's mind, waiting for the memories to hit him.
Severus was in a dark room, illuminated with only a beam of moonlight. He could hear a sick sort of snuffling and whimpering, much like an injured dog. Severus moved to where the noises were coming from, and could make out a vague outline of a pile of rags and chains in the corner, blood staining the ground crimson. The pile of rags moved, and a dark head rose, sleepy eyes mixed with bloodstained cheeks. Samuel was chained in the corner, wearing nothing but filthy rags for clothes. Dried blood flaked off and mixed with fresh blood, newly formed welts only beginning to heal.
"THAT RUDDY BOY!" Severus heard a man shout, cursing as the man stumbled into the room, reeking of alchohol. Severus could see a Death Eater mark on the man's arm, and recgonized Doholov, one of the Death Eaters he had worked with back in his younger days.
The memory changed, and Samuel was a younger boy, around four years old, wearing a ragged long nightshirt, standing in a corner, staring at Kharakhoff.
"Speak, go on, boy! I know you can. Don't keep secrets from me. You know what I can do to you, you know?" the Death Eater said with a honeyed voice, smiling down at Samuel, crouching down to his level. "What did nice Mr. Malfoy say?" Samuel shook his head, screwing his eyes shut and flinched as Kharakhoff struck him boldly along his cheek, making only a small snuffle. Slowly the boy sniffled, and opened his mouth, which was reddened with dried blood.
Another memory erupted, throwing Severus in a fit of vertigo, knowing he had seen more than enough to understand why the boy was afraid to go to bed. Severus watched Samuel, six years old, crying in a corner, knees drawn up to his chest as much as he could, with the manacles fastened to his ankles.
"Daddy..." Samuel sobbed, crying up to a blank-faced man which Severus vaguely remembered as a Muggle man who had followed Voldemort around like a puppy, licking at his boots and kissing his robes. The blank-faced muggle scowled down at the boy.
"You're not fit to be a wizard, boy. Not like the Blacks and Malfoys, you are a mudblood, a idiot mudblood." the man snarled, lunging down at the boy, a flash of silver flashing in the moonlight. Severus gasped, kneeling down to the floor as a wave of nausea hit him, and he emptied his stomach's contents on the floor of the empty dirt cell that Samuel had been kept chained in for years.
"Why?" Severus whispered, tears making their way out of his eyes for the first time in years, at the benefit of a six year old boy who was shivering in the cold night, wearing only a nightshirt, being chased by wolves, stumbling into the forest near Hogsmeade. As Samuel tripped, Severus held himself back from grabbing him, it was only a memory, and he was only an observer. Severus watched as Samuel collapsed from exhaustion, fear, hunger, and many other maladies, at the edge of Hogsmeade, right near the Three Broomsticks, a bundle of rags to the unoblivious passerby.
Severus twisted around, sitting up with a start as he was firmly slammed out of Samuel's mind with an harsh shove. Severus sat there for several long moments, staring at the door that led out to the living room, where Samuel would be if he sleepwalked again.
"Samuel, I'm sorry." Severus whispered into the night, as he turned on his side, curling up into a ball and staring up out of his window at the moonlight, which was a sinister ball of light shining down on the boy and the man sleeping in the dungeons fitfully. Severus Snape and Samuel Snape both had reached a new kind of redemption that night, and could begin their lives anew, with one another.
A/N: sorry for the angst and brutality, but I thought it would give Severus a clearer image of his son, and learn how to open himself to his son. After all, Samuel does deserve a good life.
"Do you realize the damage you could have done, you three? You could have harmed myself, your mother, or Professor Snape. Also, if you have any questions of the delicate sort, you must have more sense to ask us in privacy instead of public like the Great hall.. where do you get these ideas...?" Remus Lupin asked in exasperation, turning to glance at the black-haired boy who stared back with a frown, his eyes watching Hermione's movements.
"Sorry, Mr. Lupin. It won't happen again." Samuel signed, his hands slow and droopy as he sniffled, glancing at Holly Granger. He knew they would have to try again. He could tell his Daddy loved miss Mione, the way he had looked after the kiss, his eyes were all bright and shiny, and he had been smiling. His daddy had never smiled, not in the time he had known his daddy. That was a good thing, Samuel thought as he smiled at Remy, who looked pale and drawn from the vicious lecture he had gotten from Mr. Lupin. Well, at least he didn't have to listen to their voices as they yelled, Samuel thought with a small smile on his lips. It was nice being deaf sometimes.
Severus glanced at his son, motioning for him to follow his father down to the dungeons for a private lecture of his own. He knew to spare the boy embarassment in front of his new friends. The two headed down to the dungeons in silence, Samuel knowing what would happen when they arrived to the dungeons. After all, he was deaf, not dumb.
"Before you say anything, Daddy, Remember how you felt when you kissed Miss Mione, how good it felt for you?" Samuel said with a small smile, turning to face his father fully in the face. "You can't lie to me, I know you liked it. I want you to be happy, and I want a mum, and Miss Mione is a perfect Mum for me. All little boys need a mum and a little sister. Miss Mione isn't stupid, and she is pretty, and she loves you." Samuel lectured his father in a tirade, his hands moving rapidly so he would have a chance to say what he had to say before his father interrupted him.
Severus stared at the little boy before him, puzzled. How did a seven year old boy manage to pin down his emotions and entire facade after living with him only a short while? It had taken his colleagues and Albus years before they had even managed to recgonize the spark of happiness in his eyes for what it was, when he had it.
"Samuel, how can you be so sure that Hermione is in love with me, and not the idea of me? Some women, they like the idea of a bad man who has changed into a good man. I don't know why. How can you be so sure that she loves me?"
"She said so, Daddy. I saw her, she said she loves you, and will love you forever. I know she loves you because you are a good daddy and a good man and everything." Samuel said with a trademark know-it-all nod of his. Severus sat back, studying his son with a critical eye.
The boy was too thin, he could see his ribs, his wrists, and his collarbone with startling clarity. Scars riddled the boy's wrists, and the edge of an angry red welt could be seen peeking under the collar of his shirt. A side of his leg was mangled, the flesh scarred pernamently. Faded marks on his ankles and wrists indicated that he had been chained up for long periods of time, long ago. Yet, despite everything the boy had gone through, he was staring at Severus with a bright, genuine smile on his lips and a spark of life in his eye.
This boy was special, indeed. One of a kind, Severus thought with a small smile as he rose from his seat.
"Bedtime."
"Daddy! but I haven't finished my potion." Samuel moaned, his hands flinging everywhere as he signed, exaggerating his motions to make himself look pitful.
"You can finish it in the morning, Samuel. Off to bed with you." Severus said with an wary eye. "Or do I have to throw you in the room?"
"I'll go." Samuel said with a glint of genuine fear in his eye as he hurried away from the room, the memory of that stab of fear lingering into Severus's mind. Tonight, Severus thought. Tonight, he would find out what made that boy tick. It would make fathering him so much easier. Samuel was unpredictable, happy and sunny one moment, and fearful of everything the next moment. With a weary sigh, Severus walked off to his bedroom, to make himself comfortable for some Legilimency. He would deal with Hermione in the morning. For right now, his son was his first priority.
Laying down on the bed, Severus's mind reached out to brush Samuel's, the tiniest bit. The boy had only just begun to drift off to sleep. Right on schedule, Severus thought with a sad sigh as he began slowly but surely prodding the boy's mind, waiting for the memories to hit him.
Severus was in a dark room, illuminated with only a beam of moonlight. He could hear a sick sort of snuffling and whimpering, much like an injured dog. Severus moved to where the noises were coming from, and could make out a vague outline of a pile of rags and chains in the corner, blood staining the ground crimson. The pile of rags moved, and a dark head rose, sleepy eyes mixed with bloodstained cheeks. Samuel was chained in the corner, wearing nothing but filthy rags for clothes. Dried blood flaked off and mixed with fresh blood, newly formed welts only beginning to heal.
"THAT RUDDY BOY!" Severus heard a man shout, cursing as the man stumbled into the room, reeking of alchohol. Severus could see a Death Eater mark on the man's arm, and recgonized Doholov, one of the Death Eaters he had worked with back in his younger days.
The memory changed, and Samuel was a younger boy, around four years old, wearing a ragged long nightshirt, standing in a corner, staring at Kharakhoff.
"Speak, go on, boy! I know you can. Don't keep secrets from me. You know what I can do to you, you know?" the Death Eater said with a honeyed voice, smiling down at Samuel, crouching down to his level. "What did nice Mr. Malfoy say?" Samuel shook his head, screwing his eyes shut and flinched as Kharakhoff struck him boldly along his cheek, making only a small snuffle. Slowly the boy sniffled, and opened his mouth, which was reddened with dried blood.
Another memory erupted, throwing Severus in a fit of vertigo, knowing he had seen more than enough to understand why the boy was afraid to go to bed. Severus watched Samuel, six years old, crying in a corner, knees drawn up to his chest as much as he could, with the manacles fastened to his ankles.
"Daddy..." Samuel sobbed, crying up to a blank-faced man which Severus vaguely remembered as a Muggle man who had followed Voldemort around like a puppy, licking at his boots and kissing his robes. The blank-faced muggle scowled down at the boy.
"You're not fit to be a wizard, boy. Not like the Blacks and Malfoys, you are a mudblood, a idiot mudblood." the man snarled, lunging down at the boy, a flash of silver flashing in the moonlight. Severus gasped, kneeling down to the floor as a wave of nausea hit him, and he emptied his stomach's contents on the floor of the empty dirt cell that Samuel had been kept chained in for years.
"Why?" Severus whispered, tears making their way out of his eyes for the first time in years, at the benefit of a six year old boy who was shivering in the cold night, wearing only a nightshirt, being chased by wolves, stumbling into the forest near Hogsmeade. As Samuel tripped, Severus held himself back from grabbing him, it was only a memory, and he was only an observer. Severus watched as Samuel collapsed from exhaustion, fear, hunger, and many other maladies, at the edge of Hogsmeade, right near the Three Broomsticks, a bundle of rags to the unoblivious passerby.
Severus twisted around, sitting up with a start as he was firmly slammed out of Samuel's mind with an harsh shove. Severus sat there for several long moments, staring at the door that led out to the living room, where Samuel would be if he sleepwalked again.
"Samuel, I'm sorry." Severus whispered into the night, as he turned on his side, curling up into a ball and staring up out of his window at the moonlight, which was a sinister ball of light shining down on the boy and the man sleeping in the dungeons fitfully. Severus Snape and Samuel Snape both had reached a new kind of redemption that night, and could begin their lives anew, with one another.
A/N: sorry for the angst and brutality, but I thought it would give Severus a clearer image of his son, and learn how to open himself to his son. After all, Samuel does deserve a good life.