Disclaimer: I think anyone and their grandma knows that do not own any of the characters of Harry Potter. I do own "Hope's Nest" though.
Warnings: There will be slash(m/m), as well as mentioning or dark actions.
This is the un-betaed version of chapter 4, so do forgive any errors you might find. The betaed version will be up sometime around 13th September.
Thanks: Because I don't want to get kicked off of ffnet I won't risk individual review responses. I am grateful for every single review I got and I hope this chapter won't disappoint you. If you wish to get individual review responses, please leave a short note in your review
Hope's Nest
Chapter 4
It was short after noon when Draco arrived at Snape Manor. He had nearly forgotten his appointment for lunch with his godfather over his emotional confusion caused by this morning's meeting with Mr.Stormcrow.
It has been real luck that Severus had sent an owl to tell him he'd be late. His godfather hated nothing more than someone wasting his time, not even Gryffindors. Draco had only once forgotten that he had an appointment with Severus and he still got the chills when remembering the man's fury and scathing, cutting remarks.
Before he could even knock on the door, it was the polite thing to do after all, a hoarse voice yelled at him to not be an imbecile and come in already. Yes, no doubt, Severus is at home. It was really a pity in Draco's eyes that Severus' voice broke during one of Voldemort's torture sessions. He had loved his godfather's deep, smooth voice deeply and had been lulled to sleep by it uncountable times during his first years at Hogwarts.
And I wasn't even there to help him recover afterwards. I learned of it years later, too late to be of any help at all. There was no one to look after him, no one who cared. He was surrounded by people who didn't trust him as far as they could throw him at a time when he desperately needed a confidant, someone who actually gave a damn about his survival.
He had tried several times to get information about the war out of Severus, but the man was as silent as a grave about it.
After his father's imprisonment, Severus had sent Draco abroad to a private tutor in Sweden. Draco's mother had been furious, hell, Draco had been furious, but, if the Head of House proved to endanger his heir's future, the heir of the Malfoy line was under his godparents' guardianship.
It was Ancient Blood Magic that had been activated by his father's verdict. Severus hadn't wasted any time in sending Draco away, to keep him safe from Voldemort's clutches.
I wonder what it was that got him so irritated. Ten galleons his delay was caused by some Gryffindor or Hufflepuff.
He found his godfather pacing agitatedly in front of the fireplace, his black robes fluttering behind him like some kind of flag, supporting the image of all encompassing fury his eyes conveyed.
"Hello, Severus. It's good to see you again." Draco greeted in a soft voice. His godfather's demeanour changed at once. He stopped his pacing and silently observed Draco's appearance. His dark eyes took in every single detail, from his tidy shoes to his freely falling hair. Slowly a true smile bloomed on his face and a warm glow crept into his obsidian eyes.
"It's good to see you again, too, Draco. You look well." Severus' hoarse voice somehow managed to sound as soft as a feather, his open caring and approval of him embraced Draco like a silken blanket.
Yes, eight years ago he had hated his godfather more than anyone else. Time and maturity had healed the wounds of the seeming betrayal in Draco's soul. He could never be grateful enough for his godfather's doings. Draco had been allowed the luxury to have a childhood, to grow old through time and not because of a merciless war. It was due to his absence in the war that Draco could walk on the street without being treated like a dark wizard or the Slytherin children of "Hope's Nest". At least he thought so.
"Do I want to know where your mind is at the moment or should I keep staying ignorant in regard to your adult experiences?" Severus teased in dry humour.
"What?"
"I just wondered what had you smiling in a world-forgetting way. You looked like a lovesick Hufflepuff for a moment." His godfather replied, his eyes sparkling in silent laughter.
"I thought of the war orphans whose parents were Slytherins or Death Eaters."
"That is hardly a reason to smile."
"Then I was thinking how well they are treated in "Hope's Nest"."
"You know about "Hope's Nest"?" surprise was evident in Severus' voice.
It was only all those years spent as a spy that kept the alarm from showing on his face. What was Draco's business with "Hope's Nest"? He wasn't used to be on his guard when talking with Draco anymore. He needed more information, without Draco getting suspicious. No easy task considering how intelligent and naturally suspicious his godson was.
Well, Severus wasn't Head of Slytherin for nothing. He had sworn to protect the secrets of "Hope's Nest" against everything and everyone. That included the headmaster of Hogwarts and the new Minister of Magic. He would do anything to protect the person he had come to love like the son he never had.
"Originally I was looking for some of my dead Housemates' children. It was then that I stumbled upon "Hope's Nest". Actually I had an appointment with its owner, Mr.Stormcrow, this very morning." Draco answered casually.
Draco's casualness and its contradiction to the mentioned happenings made Severus sit up. I have to treat carefully now or he will know something's up.
"I take it you liked what you saw?" he asked lightly while motioning for Draco to sit down at the table, his tone as casual as Draco's had been.
Draco took his usual seat, directly across from his godfather, his fingers softly stroking the table's dark wood. It had been ten years since he'd last sat at that table. Isn't it ironic that I feel more at home at a place I've been to on scarcely ten weekends in my whole life than I ever did in my ancestral home?
"Yes. The children are well cared for and Mr.Stormcrow's good intentions seem to be sincere. He surely is an unusual man. I've never met anyone who practically radiated raw magical power like the sun radiates light before." He was interrupted by the food's arrival.
After a silent meal the men settled in two armchairs that stood near the fireplace. Draco used his godfather's absentmindedness to study him closely. Severus' black hair was streaked with grey and there were more lines in his face than Draco remembered. He was still tall and still kept his back and shoulders straight. Even people who had never heard of the Snape name before knew that Severus was of Old Blood. His posture and demeanour never let anyone doubt it. Draco also noted with no small amount of relief that his godfather looked healthier than the last time he'd seen him.
After his godfather finally pulled out of wherever his mind had wandered to, Draco asked determinedly the questions Severus had refused to answer in previous letters.
"What happened, Severus? Why are innocent children hunted down for their ancestry? And how did you, the unappreciated spy, manage to not be as persecuted and attacked as those poor children? Hell, why aren't I persecuted for being a Malfoy?"
Severus sighed, knowing well that he couldn't put off the tale any longer.
"In what would have been your sixth year at Hogwarts, Voldemort took his war into the open. Attacks happened at broad daylight and at very public places like Diagon Alley or famous muggle places like Big Ben. It was worse than during Voldemort's first reign. There was not one single day without another attack or the infamous black ministry envelops, that told of a dead family member and in which the ministry expressed their worthless condolence.
Three years later Harry Potter successfully infiltrated Voldemort's hidden castle and killed the monster once and for all. Sadly the magical backlash killed him as well, the castle collapsed on top of him.
If you think the victory had ended all prejudice of the British Wizarding World, you are sourly mistaken. There has never ever been more or more severe prejudice against Slytherins before in the history of Great Britain.
In regard of your and my own safety, well, we have Mr. Potter to tank for it." Severus explained his voice somewhere between sharp and remorseful.
"I thought Potter is dead?" Draco interrupted the little history tale.
A sad expression fleetingly touched Severus' face, then he smirked evilly.
"I think you know as well as I do that Mr. Potter positively despised Minister Fudge. He probably despised our late Minister of Magic even more than Voldemort. Do you really think he wouldn't have made precautions? In killing Voldemort Mr. Potter earned a Wizard's Debt of every single British witch and wizard. Knowing that he left a will in which he cashed those debts.
Anyone who tried to persecute or discriminate werewolves, vampires and a whole list of named people, who we are part of, loses not only his magic, but his very life." His smirk grew even more evil, cruel delight sparkling in his dark eyes.
"Apparently Minister Fudge had no faith at all in Mr. Potter's magical capabilities. He tried to charge me for treason, so he could get his hands not only on my fortune, but yours and Mr. Potter's as well. I will never see a sweeter sight than him being burnt to death by his own magical core. After that very public display no one dared to touch those groups or persons again."
"You are the heir of the Potter fortune? Is that a joke? Everyone and their owl knew how much you loathed each other." Draco exclaimed shocked.
"That is correct. However, Mr. Potter became my apprentice in sixth year. Gradually we learned to respect and trust each other, till we were the only confidant for the other. It was him who rescued me after my cover was blown. The other Order members were not inclined to risk their lives for an useless informant.
We often talked about the future as well as our very probable deaths. It seems Mr. Potter trusted only two persons with his fortune. After Remus Lupin's death that left only me."
Silence settled once more in the room. Draco had difficulties to believe how much the Golden Boy of Gryffindor had changed in his absence. The very concept of Severus Snape and Harry Potter as confidants was mind-boggling. He was intrigued by the picture of the man Severus had drawn through his tale.
"I think I would have liked to meet him, properly this time. We didn't have much of a chance in Hogwarts, did we?" Draco whispered thoughtfully.
Severus' eyes were sad when he answered: "No, there never is a chance for Gryffindors and Slytherins to become friends in Hogwarts."
"You never told me how it is that you know about "Hope's Nest"." Draco said.
"As you well know, I am still Head of the House of Slytherin. Where do you think I send my charges to after they are disowned by their families? I neither have the room nor the time to take them in myself. In return I provide "Hope's Nest" with all necessary potions." Severus replied, his eyes betraying the bitterness he felt in stead of his Slytherins.
"Dumbledore allows this outrage? That's hard to believe. He always seemed to care for all his students."
"Not even Dumbledore can force families to not disown their children. Though he punishes inter-House prank-wars harder than has ever been done by any Headmaster of Hogwarts before. The ministry is constantly in his neck because of his strict ruling, but they can hardly replace him for following Hogwarts' centuries old rules.
Sadly Mr. Potter didn't put all children that will ever be sorted into Slytherin under his protection. Not even I thought it possible that light wizards could ever fall to Voldemort's level and abuse children."
Severus clearly remembered one of the many nightly discussions he'd had with Harry Potter.
{Flashback}
There was only the light of the dying embers of the fireplace to illuminate Severus' private chambers. Two figures sat in the near dark room, talking in soft voices about anything and everything. They had discovered that it was easier to unburden one's soul when they couldn't see each other. It was easier to pretend that way, to pretend their talking partner was someone else. It may seem like an ominous way to establish trust between master and apprentice, but it had been the only possible way for them.
It was the night after the attack on prominent light families, early in Harry's seventh year. The attack had been concentrated on the Weasleys, the Bones, the Lovegoods, the Diggorys and the Craidens.
The Weasleys lost only three of their children, the twins and Percival. The other families hadn't been nearly as lucky.
The Bones and Diggorys didn't exist anymore. Luna Lovegood was an orphan now. The only surviving Craiden, a three years old boy, had been driven insane by torture and was now a ward of St. Mungo's.
"You know, I will win this war. No matter the cost. It's just that I realized something important today." Harry said in that strange, casual way and flat, emotionless voice he used since the beginning of the war. The other students had been freaked out by his changed behaviour, but Severus recognized the birth of a warrior when he saw one. That did in no way mean he wasn't concerned about the boy's emotionlessness.
"Pray tell, what is it that you realized, Mr. Potter?" Severus wanted to know.
Harry's casualness didn't lessen one bit when he answered: "Simply, I realized that Harry James Potter, the son of James and Lily Potter, cannot be allowed to survive the end of this war."
Severus straightened in his seat, alarm showing on his face, mind numbing fear gripping his heart in an iron grip. He wouldn't, he couldn't loose this boy to the same darkness that once had claimed him.
"Harry..." he started, but was interrupted by Harry signalling him to stop. That was another rule of their relationship; in private they only used first names, unless they wanted to tease each other.
"It's the symbol that has to die, not the person. Don't worry, Severus, I fully intend to survive this war. I want the chance to actually have lived a real life before I take my leave. Harry James Potter won't ever have the chance to live freely. He is nothing but a symbol to be used or misused at will. People will never let go of their convenient saviour. Therefore it is only logical that he cannot survive Riddle's death." Harry talked like he was presenting a project in class, his voice analytical, detached, his reasoning following a cold logic.
"But what happens after his death, Harry? The ministry won't change its ways and the resulting injustice will just produce another dark movement." Severus' dislike of the topic didn't hinder him to put his reasoning in. Harry didn't need to be coddled, nor should his ideas be dismissed. The young man had proven to be quite intelligent, even frighteningly so, his cold analytics of people and situations enabling him to manipulate his surroundings masterfully.
Severus hadn't been surprised in the slightest when he discovered in which House the sorting hat had wanted to put the Potter heir.
"You forget, Severus, that the Wizarding World as a whole will owe me a Wizard's Debt. A debt which I fully intend to cash. If the Wizarding World is deaf to reason and blind to history I will force them to change. I will protect the innocent, don't worry."
{End flashback}
"Severus?" Draco interrupted his godfather's short journey down memory lane, concern clearly written on his face. His godfather never let his attention wander; it was one of his most ingrained habits. When his godfather just sent him a questioning glance he continued: "You seemed a thousand miles away. Are you all right?"
Severus smiled slightly, but warmly at his godson. He was eternally glad to have been able to save Draco from the darkness. Their emotional connection had lessened somewhat over the war, but the bond was still there. Still, if he ever had to choose between Draco and "Hope's Nest" he knew who he'd choose.
TBC
Sorry for the format, ffnet keeps screwing it up. grrr