Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created by JK Rawling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books, Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
A/N This story is my attempt at a Severitus Challenge fic of a very different sort. I hope you enjoy it.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Harry Potter and the Order of life
Chapter 1
Number Four Privet Drive
It was noon. The hot summer sun beat down on the front garden of number four Privet Drive. A teenage boy lay in the shade, obscured by the daisies.
Technically, Harry wasn't supposed to be lying in the flowerbed. He had been told to weed it. But Harry hadn't slept through a single night since returning from school for summer break, and on the rare occasions he did fall asleep his dreams were plagued by nightmares. You see, last year, Harry's fourth year as a student at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Harry had witnessed the murder of one of his fellow students. Cedric's death was ordered by one of the most evil wizards of all time, Lord Voldemort. Not because he held any threat to Voldemort, but rather, simply because he was there.
As you may have guessed, Harry was not your average boy. It is hardly doubtful that if you took a survey of the boys on the surrounding streets for a mile around, that you would find a single one with Harry's unique gift. You see, Harry was a wizard. A fact his perfectly normal Aunt and Uncle tried desperately to hide from their neighbors.
"HARRY," Aunt Petunia screeched from the kitchen.
Harry jumped out of a sound sleep, pushed his glasses back onto his face, and sat up amongst the flowers. "What?" he called back sleepily.
"Get in here for lunch, and stop dawdling!" snapped Petunia as Harry rose to go inside. "Have you finished weeding the front flower beds yet? I want both the front and the back completed before supper. If they are not, then you will miss supper and finish them."
"Yes, Aunt Petunia," droned Harry as he sat down and started in on the meager half-sandwich and glass of water that was his lunch. He glanced longingly at the three whole sandwiches, two bowls of soup, four slices of pie, and several glasses of juice that his cousin Dudley was busy wolfing down.
Harry sighed as he admitted to himself that he was slightly jealous of the size of Dudley's lunch. It wasn't as though Dudley needed it. Dudley's diet from the past summer hadn't helped his generous weight problem one little bit. Quite the contrast to his over-weight cousin, Harry was frightfully thin. He pushed his untidy black hair out of his eyes, finished his water, and took his dishes to the sink.
"Hurry up and finish that garden! Don't come back inside until it's done!" ordered Petunia.
"Yes, Aunt Petunia," replied Harry while walking out the front door. "At least I'm almost finished with the front," he mumbled to himself as he got back to work.
It's not that Harry minded gardening; it was just that he hadn't had so much as a spare minute since he'd returned to the Dursleys' for the summer holiday. Harry's Aunt and Uncle, Petunia and Vernon Dursley, had been left to raise him after Voldemort had murdered his parents when Harry was just one year old. Voldemort had, in fact, attempted to kill young Harry at the same time. The curse he had aimed directly at the small boy had rebounded, nearly causing Voldemort's destruction. Fourteen years Voldemort spent living a half-life, unable to return without assistance, barely able to survive.
Unfortunately, the Dursley's were not in the least inclined to show Harry even a small amount of the generosity which they gave their own son Dudley. Dudley had grown up spoiled with all the toys, food, and games he ever asked for. Harry had been provided with the small closet under the stairs for his bedroom, a cot for a bed, Dudley's old clothes to wear (even though they were far too large) and nowhere near enough food for a growing boy. While Dudley watched television and played with his friends, Harry helped cook the meals, clean the house, and did the gardening. His Aunt and Uncle had finally given him his cousin's second bedroom around his eleventh birthday, but everything else remained the same. This year, for some reason, they kept him busier than ever.
Harry smiled as he pulled the last weed from the front yard and walked around to the back. "Ugh," he groaned catching sight of Dudley and his friend Piers Polkiss. He wanted to finish the weeding so that he might have a little free time before bed to work on his homework. He'd never be done with Dudley and Piers taunting and teasing him as he worked.
"Come on Piers," said Dudley, "we don't want HIM disturbing us." The two walked indoors, glaring at Harry as they passed.
Harry let out a relieved breath didn't realize he'd been holding; at least they were going to leave him alone. He got straight to work on the weeding.
A few hours later Harry pulled open the kitchen door and walked in. He could hear Dudley and Piers in living room watching television with the volume turned up high. Supper was in the oven, the timer on the stove said that it would be done in about ten minutes. Why his Aunt wanted roast in July baffled Harry. The heat from the oven made the kitchen uncomfortably warm, even with the slight breeze flowing through the open windows. Beads of sweat slid down his neck and joined those already soaking his shirt. Harry shuffled tiredly toward the door to the hall. His shoes left no scuff marks on the linoleum, the tread had worn off long before they had been given to Harry, three years ago. Now the padding and insoles had been worn through, leaving Harry's feet completely unprotected from the bottom.
"Are you done with the weeding?" Petunia demanded when she spotted him in the hall.
"Yes, Aunt Petunia," replied Harry. "Is supper soon?"
"Supper is in ten minutes. Go clean yourself up, you filthy boy. You'll not be sitting at my table with all that dirt on you."
Relieved Harry hurried upstairs to change his clothes and wash up. Just as he was finished he heard his Uncle return from work.
"Petunia, I'm home," called Vernon Dursley as he entered the house. He set his briefcase down on the table in the hall, hung up his coat, and headed straight for the supper table. Harry entered the dining room right behind him and took his usual seat at the table, across from Dudley.
"How was your day, my boy?" asked Vernon.
"Great Dad, and yours?" replied Dudley.
"I made a very large sale of drills today!" Vernon replied happily.
Harry sat quietly hoping not to attract attention while his Uncle described his day for the family. He waited while everyone else served themselves. Roast beef, sliced carrots, mashed potatoes, gravy, rolls, and a cobbler still sitting on the counter waiting to be served for dessert. "Thank you," he murmured as his Aunt placed a plate in front of him. He poked at the slop that represented his serving of roast beef. Pan drippings, he guessed, the portion left after his Aunt made the gravy. A slice of carrot sat next to a burnt roll, and a spoonful of potatoes decorated with a dab of gravy completed his plate. It wasn't much, not even worthy of a snack for a boy who had been working hard all day. Harry dug in.
"I think the office will run quite smoothly while I'm away for our vacation." Vernon continued, "Have you made the arrangements for the boy, Petunia?"
"Yes dear. Mrs. Figg agreed to take him."
Harry kept his head down as they talked about him as if he wasn't sitting right there.
"Good, very good," Vernon turned to look at Harry and growled. "As for you boy, you'd better behave yourself while we're gone, and none of that funny business, you keep your abnormality to yourself, got it? If you step one toe out of line I'll pull you straight out of that… that school of yours. It will be Saint Brutus's until you are out of my house!"
"Yes, Uncle Vernon," Harry nodded. He wasn't looking forwards to a month at his old babysitter Mrs. Figg's house but he would do whatever it took to go back to his school.
"Hogwarts," he thought. "There's no place like home."
And Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry was the only place that felt like home to Harry, except for maybe his best friend Ron Weasley's house. But still, a month listening to Mrs. Figg tell him stories about all of her cats. Ugh, this summer was just getting longer and longer.
While Harry cleared the table, did the dishes, and mopped the kitchen floor, his aunt, uncle, and cousin finished packing for their trip. Harry had barely started his evening chores when his uncle ordered him upstairs to bring down their suitcases.
"Hurry up boy!" Vernon shouted as he pushed Harry toward the suitcases scattered around the floor of the master bedroom. "Get these down stairs and line them up in the hall. Then take care of Dudley's. Hurry up I said! You ungrateful lazy freak! I don't know why we took you in, shouldn't have bothered."
With one of the heavy suitcases in each hand, Harry carefully balanced himself before starting down the steep, narrow staircase. He heard his uncles angry footsteps headed toward him and tried to hurry. He had made it halfway down when he felt his uncle's hand on his shoulder. "Hurry up!" It would have only taken a gentle push to unbalance him; the shove he received sent Harry tumbling down the stairs head first. He landed at the bottom, the two suitcases painfully falling on top of him.
"You had better not have scratched those, you clumsy idiot. Line them up and get the rest! Do I have to watch you every minute for you to do any work around here?"
Harry pulled himself to his feet and set the suitcases against the wall. He didn't bother checking his bruises, a few more to add to his collection. He pushed his hair out of his eyes and started back up the stairs.
Thirty minutes and many trips later Harry had finished. Looking at the pile of suitcases he wondered if they were really taking a vacation or if they were moving.
"Don't stand there gawking, you haven't finished your chores!" Petunia called shrilly from the living room. "Get going, and clean up that mess you made."
The rug had been walked on, some mess. Harry went back upstairs, this time to the closet in the hall, and pulled out the hoover and a bucket full of cleaning supplies. He did the first floor rugs, as he did every night, and then cleaned the bathroom. He heard the television being turned off as the clock chimed ten and three sets of footsteps climbing the stairs, his family would be getting ready for bed. Harry just carried the hoover downstairs. By the time he'd finished and put the hoover away the bathroom to be cleaned once again. Harry took the time to take care of his personal needs at the same time; he would not get another chance that night.
"You'll go to Mrs. Figgs first thing tomorrow morning. I expect you to help Mrs. Figg with the chores and come here daily to do the gardening, I don't want you getting any lazier, understood?" questioned Uncle Vernon with a painful grip on Harry's arm.
"Fine," Harry snapped as he attempted to pull away.
"Get your trunk packed tonight, you will not have time tomorrow," ordered Vernon as he unlocked the cupboard under the stairs.
Harry only mumbled an agreement as he pulled his trunk out of the crowded space. Vernon had locked the trunk away within five minutes of Harry's return from school a month ago, and Harry had not seen it since. He had managed to keep only a few precious items hidden away.
"Perfect," he thought. "If I stay up all night, I just might be able to get all of my homework done. I won't be able to do it at Mrs. Figg's, and if I don't complete it I'll be in trouble when I get back to school."
Harry waited for his uncle to lock the door then pulled his photo album and wand out of their hiding place beneath a loose floorboard. Looking at the paper calendar taped to the wall he smiled; tomorrow was his birthday! Harry would be turning 15 years old. Harry grabbed a book from his trunk and sat down at his desk.
Potions-
List five truth potions, their history, how they are made, their effectiveness, any side effects, and their antidotes. Minimum five feet.
Harry idly wondered what would happen if Vernon Dursley and Severus Snape, the two people who hated him the most, ever got together. Would it be possible for them to make his life any more miserable? He tapped his quill a few times and pushed his hair out of his eyes before starting to write.
About an hour later Harry looked up at the clock.
"Five more minutes and I'll be fifteen," Harry thought as he rose from his desk and wandered over to the window.
He looked out at the peaceful quiet that was Privet Drive in the middle of the night. It was a cloudless night. The shining stars looked near enough to touch, and the moon was just over half full. He leaned out the window breathing in the cool air. It felt good to take even a short break from his studies. He was just about to return to his books when he noticed several winged animals flying towards the house. He moved to the side as four owls flew through the window and settled on his bed.
"Hedwig," he whispered to his beloved pet. "It's been weeks! How are you? Did you find him?"
Hedwig hooted softly as Harry untied a package from her leg. Hedwig looked very tired from her trip to find Hagrid. As soon as he had untied the package she flew over to her cage, drank some water and settled in for a long sleep.
Harry went to each on the owls in turn, untied their bundles and made sure they got water and owl treats before turning his attention to his birthday presents.
Taped to the outside of the first was a letter.
Harry,
Good to hear from you, I hope you are doing ok with those Muggles. I am still traveling, important business for Dumbledore you know, but I should be back in time for the start of term.
Happy birthday Harry, I hope you like your gift.
Hagrid
Harry opened the package to find a small book, Magical Creatures of France.
"At least it doesn't bite," he thought with a snicker as he set the book aside and picked up the next package. As he tore off the wrapper a card fell out.
Harry,
How are you? I hope you have a wonderful birthday. Have you heard from Hagrid or Smuffles? Ron hasn't written me a single letter all summer and I've written him twice. Well if Ron doesn't write to me, I won't be visiting him.
I'll be at Diagon Alley on the twenty-ninth of Augest to buy my school things. I'll be looking for you.
Happy Birthday!
Hermione
Harry smiled as he looked at Hermione's gift, Bulgarian Quidditch Training. He set the book beside him and reached for his third package. A paw print decorated the front.
"Sirius," Harry thought happily. Inside were three rings hanging from a gold chain. "My Parent's wedding set?" he stared for several minutes before fastening the chain around his neck.
He had a small piece of his parents now. He held the three rings in his hand thankful that his godfather was still alive, even if he didn't know where he was. These rings were a symbol of his parents love for each other, and for him.
Harry reached for the last package; Ron's owl Pigwidgeon had brought it. Harry wondered how the tiny owl had managed to carry such a large package. He immediately tore off the card,
Harry,
Happy Birthday!
Mom hasn't heard from Dumbledore about when you can come to stay, she writes him every week though. She has a bed all made up for you, as soon as Dumbledore says you can come we'll be there to get you. I wish he'd hurry up, Fred and George and driving me batty! I miss you.
Hermione has gone to visit Viktor Krum in Bulgaria. Did she tell you? I can't believe it, he's such a celebrity. She hasn't told me when she will be here to visit, she's probably to busy with Vicky. I don't see what's so wonderful about him. Yeah, he's a great Quidditch player but Hermione doesn't even like Quidditch. There are plenty of nice guys at Hogwarts. Why does she have to find some one from Durmstrang? Everyone knows that Durmstrang focuses on the dark arts. They probably have to sweat allegiance to You-Know-Who just to attend.
Hope the Muggles are treating you ok. Write and tell me how things are going.
Ron
Harry eagerly tore the wrapping of Ron's package and dug out a chocolate cake, two bottles of butterbeer, a chocolate frog, a box of Bernie Bott's Every Flavored Beans, and a box of cards for playing exploding snap.
Harry leaned back and surveyed his treasures. He wrote thank you notes to Hermione and Sirius right away, sending their owls back with the messages. Hedwig and Pigwidgeon looked far too tired for a return trip so he let them rest. Ron and Hagrid wouldn't mind if he waited a day or two to reply.
He put a slice of cake on his desk and packed the rest of his gifts away before returning to his schoolwork.
Harry woke with a start to the sound of a ringing telephone. He peeled his History of Magic essay off his face, brushed the hair out of his eyes and looked down at the parchment. He'd only gotten half way through before he fell asleep.
"How am I ever going to finish this at Mrs. Figgs house," he groaned.
Settling his glasses back on his face he started packing his books away in his school trunk. Everything was ready to go now.
Harry walked down the stairs to breakfast stopping at the sound of his Uncle's voice in the kitchen. "What do you mean she can't take him?" Vernon asked. "She has to take him, what are we going to do with the boy if she doesn't take him. I am not taking that, that…"
"Now Vernon, I know it's upsetting. I am no happier about it than you are. Mrs. Figg says a family emergency has called her away. She will be out of town dealing with the situation for several weeks, at least. There is no way she can take the boy. Vernon, what are we going to do with him?" fussed Petunia wringing her hands.
"Is there no one else who can take the boy?" Vernon demanded.
"No, no one wants to be saddled with him. I've called everyone. We'll be gone for nearly a month," said Petunia her lips pursed into a thin white line.
"BOY!" hollered Vernon.
"Yes, Uncle Vernon?" asked Harry as he entered the kitchen.
"A problem has come up in arranging care for you while we are gone on vacation," Vernon fumed. "Mrs. Figg will not be able to take you and we have not been able to find a replacement. Is there anyone from that… that school you attend who might be willing to have you for the rest of the summer?" Vernon's face was bright red by the time he finished the question. Harry could tell how difficult it had been for him to ask.
"Yes, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley might be willing to take me," Harry hesitantly suggested.
"And how would we get in touch with these people to, er, ask?" Vernon demanded.
"If you write a letter, I'll send it by owl post." was Harry's eager reply.
"Post? OWL POST!" roared Vernon. "I don't have time for some ruddy owl! The plane leaves at 6:23PM and Petunia has to do some shopping in London before we go."
"Uncle Vernon?" Harry interrupted his uncle's tirade. "I am sure the Weasley's will take me. If you write in the letter that you are dropping me off at the Leaky Cauldron they can pick me up there, and you won't need to wait. You said that you were going into London, so it won't be out of the way."
"Well, I guess that could work," mused Vernon looking uncertain about what to do.
"Unless you'd rather take me with you," asked Harry slyly.
"No!" Vernon shouted as he grabbed a pen and paper to begin the letter. "Go help Petunia with breakfast. I'll finish this in a minute."
Harry smiled to himself as he worked over the hot stove. He'd be spending the rest of the summer with the Weasley's! He couldn't believe his luck.
Vernon debated for awhile on what to write in the letter but finally decided on:
Dear Mr. and Mrs. Weasley,
Due to unfortunate circumstances out sitter for Harry will be unable to take care of him while we are gone on vacation. As we have not been able to find a replacement and are leaving today we would appreciate your allowing him to stay with you until he returns to school. Harry said that you would have no problem with the arrangement so we are dropping him off at the Leaky Cauldron this afternoon. Pick him up at your convenience.
The school wrote that a friend of Harry's was killed last year in an unfortunate accident. They were concerned that Harry might have a difficult time dealing with his friends passing. Please try to keep him occupied as much as possible.
Thank you for your assistance. I'm sorry we could not give you more notice.
Mr. Vernon Dursley
Harry stood in front of the Leaky Cauldron and watched the Dursley's drive away. Vernon had barely questioned why he was dropping his nephew off in front of a pub that did not appear to exist. Harry held Hedwig's cage in one hand and his trunk was at his feet. As the car turned the corner and moved out of sight Harry grinned. He was going to spend the rest of the summer with people who actually loved and cared about him. He dragged his trunk to a table in the corner of the pub and sat down to wait. He didn't know how long it would take Pigwidgeon to get home to deliver the message from his Uncle. So, Harry ordered lunch from Tom, the owner of the establishment, and pondered his good fortune.
As Harry ate his lunch he watched the other customers. Some were just passing through to Diagon Alley, others stopped for a drink and to visit with friends, and a few sat down for a full lunch as he was doing. People talked in hushed whispers and numerous curious glances passed his way as people tried to take a peek at him when he wasn't looking. The fear emanating from those around him was a blanket presence. He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, the Ministry, Dumbledore. Whispers that spoke louder than any amplified voice.
His meal completed, Harry nursed his drink and wondered what could have called Mrs. Figg away so suddenly. Sure, her house always smelled like cabbage, she had way too many cats, and Harry was glad not to be staying with her, but he hoped no one was seriously hurt, or dead, just the same.
"Dead, Cedric is dead. If only I had taken the trophy myself. He could still be alive. Kill the spare. He wasn't spare, he was a friend, he was needed, and he deserved to live out his life. WHY?" The thoughts which had been plaguing Harry all summer now surfaced again.
"HARRY!" shouted Ron, tumbling out of the fireplace. "There you are, mate. How have you been? We just got your Uncle's message and came right over. I can't believe they are letting you stay for the rest of the summer. We're going to have a great time!"
"Ron, Mr. Weasley, so good to see you, how are you?" asked Harry, instantly jumped to his feet.
"Harry," began Mr. Weasley. "We are delighted that you are going to be staying with us! Right before we received your Uncle's letter we got a letter from Dumbledore giving us permission to go get you. He seems to be a step ahead of everyone as usual. Come on; grab your trunk! Everyone's waiting back at the burrow."
Harry climbed into the fireplace holding his trunk in one hand and a pinch of floo powder in the other. "The Burrow!" he shouted throwing the powder down.
Seconds later Harry tumbled out of the fireplace at the burrow, barely managing to keep his balance. He stepped quickly out of the way as Ron arrived carrying Hedwig's cage.
The burrow hadn't changed as far as Harry could tell. The knitting needles were still hard at work; he could hear the rattle of pans in the kitchen, but most of all he felt the warm embrace of a home.
"You're in my room. Come on. Let's get your things settled," Ron said starting for the stairs. If you don't mind what's with you're hair? You look like bill."
"What do you mean Ron?" asked Harry as he followed him past the Weasley family clock, showing all of the Weasley's but one safely at home.
"Look," said Ron pulling Harry in front of the mirror in his room. "It's long! Are you going to grow it out like Bill's?"
"It's not that long," Harry brushed the shoulder length hair back away from his face, "but I see your point. I could do with a haircut. It's kind of weird my hair has never grown longer than a few inches before."
Harry looked closely at the mirror. "I look so different, not at all like the Tri-wizard champion."
"I think I'd like to keep this new look for awhile, Ron. Maybe I will grow it our like Bill's."
"Whatever, we'd better get downstairs. Everyone is going to want to say hi."
The two friends clamored down the stairs and into the kitchen.
"Surprise! Happy Birthday Harry!"
"What, how, um… thank you." Harry was shocked. The Weasly family stood surrounding the kitchen table smiling at him over a birthday cake. "What is this?"
"It's a surprise birthday party, blockhead." George informed him as Fred pulled aour a harmonica. "Happy Birthday to you on three, everybody!"
For the first time in his life Harry had a birthday party.
"How did you do this?" he asked. "You didn't even know I was going to be here."
"Come on Harry, blow out the candles. We want cake!" Ginny encouraged him. "Don't forget to make a wish!"
The rest of the evening was absolute bliss. Harry was surrounded by people he considered his family and he couldn't be happier. It was well past 2AM when the youngsters went to bed. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley cleared the table then sat before the fire to discuss their guest.
"Dear, I think I must have a talk with Albus. That child cannot go back to those people again. Did you see how thin he is? It looks like he hasn't had a decent meal since school let out. Those bags under his eyes! He looks so tired. His clothes aren't fit for cleaning rags, and those bruises? He couldn't have done that himself. It's getting worse, dear. I don't think he will live through another summer if left with them."
"Yes, Molly, I agree with you. Albus sends Harry to his relatives to keep him safe from Voldemort. But that place itself is no longer safe for him. We'll write him tomorrow."
"No, Arthur. Let's write him now."
- - - - - - - -
Hogwarts- 3 days later
Severus Snape stood before the fireplace in his personal quarters. There on the mantle sat an old photograph along with two candles, one on each side of it. He blinked once and lifted his wand to light the candles.
"I'm sorry," he breathed. "I failed you both."
His fingers reached out to touch the only tangible reminder he had of the brunette he loved so very much, holding the hours-old son they brought into the world together. He remembered every minute if every day he had spent with his small family. He thought back to the joy they shared, watching and caring for their little son. He remembered the gathering just three days after his wife gave birth. They hadn't wanted to leave their young son alone with the nanny.
"He's too young, Severus," her green eyes pleaded. "I'm not ready to leave him, he needs me."
"I know. I don't want to leave him either, but the Dark Lord ordered us to bring our wives to this meeting. I would rather not take you, you are still so weak. Unfortunately, I fear the danger to our family would be great if I were not to bring you."
So they went.
Fifteen years that night had haunted him. One night and he lost everything that mattered. In one night his whole world was shattered, destroyed. "Why must I continue living?"
Severus turned away from the photograph silently wishing there was a way to change what had happened that night. He saw his cloak hanging by the door and grabbed it before rushing out. Walking aimlessly down the hall for some time, he had no idea where he was going. He just needed to move, to get himself back under control.
"Air fresh air. That would be good," he stopped and looked around. "The astronomy tower is near here." He hurried on.
Bursting onto the astronomy tower, he breathed in the cool evening air. The skies were clear, the start shining bright. So different from his own stormy mood. He moved over to one of the open windows. "You can see so far from here." Indeed, he could see for miles. The forbidden forest, the town of Hogsmede. All was quiet, only the animals stirred so late at night. He didn't notice that he was not alone in enjoying the sights.
"Severus."
"Albus!" he turned with a start.
"I am sorry. I did not mean to startle you. Today is a difficult day for you, I am sorry for your loss." They stood in silence for a few minutes looking out over the grounds. "She would have been proud of you, you know. The choices you have made these past years."
"If I had made the right choices in the first place she might still be alive."
"Possibly so, Severus, but possibly not. Either way we cannot change the past."
"The past, is that all they are now, just a memory?"
"Your wife you will always treasure in your heart. She will always be with you. Your son? Well, I think it is time I told you…"
"I don't want to know who adopted him. As long as he's happy and has a family that loves and cares for him. I just want him to have everything he deserves, everything I cannot give him."
"Then perhaps I should tell you a little about your son's life. He was indeed adopted by a wonderful young couple who loved and cared for him as if he were their own flesh and blood. They died in unfortunate circumstances when he was about a year old. Since that time he has been raised by an aunt and uncle alongside their own son who is about the same age. For many years his bedroom was a small cupboard under the stairs with barely enough room to lie out in. Whenever he was not at school or doing chores he was locked in that cupboard along with the bugs and spiders. The clothes he wears are little more than rags, whatever their son no longer fits, regardless of the condition. He is small for his age and unusually thin due to lack of proper nutrition. Anything that bothers the family that they can possibly blame your son for, they do. He is punished severely regardless of whether or not he actually had anything to do with the matter. He…"
Severus Snape was getting angrier with each passing sentence. "You mean to tell me that my son is being beaten and STARVED!" he roared with barely controlled fury. "How could this have happened? I can take better care of a child than that. I will not allow my child to be treated in such a manner." He spun around taking long strides toward the door.
"Am I to understand that you wish to obtain custody of your son?"
Of course, where is he? I am getting him away from those people immediately. I am not going to abandon my child, he needs me."
"Well there are two options. Your son attends a wizarding school so you could begin a relationship with letters during the school year and take full custody at summer break. Or, you could take custody immediately."
"Let's go now."
"Wait Severus, he has no idea that he was adopted. His adoptive parents died before he was old enough to be told. He is no longer a baby; he is fifteen years old. I will go to him in the morning, explain the situation and ask him if he would like to live with his father."
"What if he says no?"
"Then we will deal with that situation when the time arises, I consider that highly unlikely though. Perhaps you should get some sleep and prepare your quarters for an addition?"
"Oh, yes." Snape walked, somewhat dazed, away. Upon entering his rooms, Severus walked straight over to the photograph on the mantle. "I have a second chance. I will not fail you again." He then set straight about, preparing his guest room to be a bedroom for his son.
"I wonder which school he attends. Maybe he can transfer here, if he likes it. Green, I think, get him settled into our house system." A wave of his wand and the original black theme of the room changed to silver and green.
"What if he's angry with me for giving him up? I thought it was for the best, he may hate me for it. It's my fault he was abused all those years, if I'd kept him myself that never would have happened. Voldemort though. I couldn't raise him in that life. I couldn't have my son grow up chained to a life of pain and torture where he would have no choice. I wanted him to have a different future, how can I make him see that?"
His task completed, Snape retired to his bedroom, his brain working much too hard to actually sleep.