Chapter Sixteen
Harry watched in dismay as Professor Snape started weeping again after the fit of self-berating. Snape's closed eyes had been leaking tears, off and on, for much of the evening, and when he wasn't crying he was shouting himself hoarse, calling himself every name in the book.
Acting on instinct, Harry put a hand out to touch Snape's, to comfort him. The professor grasped it unseeingly, holding it fast.
"Dad... you don't want me, Dad... I've done horrible things... made others do horrible things... been horrible to so many people..."
After nearly a week studying Snape's freed memories, Harry knew quite a bit about the Dad to whom Professor Snape was talking. And he was pretty sure of his ground when he supplied the answer that he guessed Snape's Dad would have given:
"That's all in the past, son. And it's all because that – that aunt of yours tried to scrub out everything good about you. But she didn't get it all." He squeezed Snape's hand, and got an answering squeeze back. "You're doing your best to make amends, son. Considering what you've been through, I'm amazed you're here to do it."
"Dad..." It was a whisper now; Snape's energy was starting to run down.
It had been like this all week: He'd come to just enough to be fed, but not enough to have any real awareness of his surroundings; then, as his retrieved memories and hints of the path he could have taken started making themselves felt, he would fall into harrowing pits of self-punishment, berating himself in language and fervor that bested the worst that Harry had ever thought, much less said, about the man. These fits would last until Snape simply ran out of the strength to sustain them; then he'd fall back into unconsciousness.
"Go to sleep now, son. It'll be better when you wake up." At least, that was what Harry hoped.
"Dad..." Snape whispered a final time, then relaxed into sleep, or something like it.
Harry wished that Dumbledore would return, and soon.
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Once his non-hippieness was out of the way, Severus and Mrs. Halvorson had a good time finishing up their respective batches of the memory-enhancing potion. Julie was off riding her bicycle into Rushford to pick up a few things at the hardware store – but not without giving Severus a quick peck on the cheek when she thought her grandma wasn't looking – so they had the house all to themselves.
They talked about the Muggle world, and the wizarding world. While Julie's description of the Muggle world of Minnesota was interesting, there were some gaps in her knowledge – unavoidable gaps, being that Julie was only fourteen – and Mrs. Halvorson filled in some of those gaps for Severus.
And Mrs. Halvorson did something more. She let slip a bit of information that gave Severus cause to think a bit:
"It's so good that you came to the Nortons, Severus," she said, carefully ladling her batch into a set of her own Ball jars. "They've been through some tough times in the past few years."
"They have?"
"They've been trying to make that tiny farm of theirs go for years, to get themselves off soybeans and onto things that'll turn a profit for them. Now it looks like they'll succeed in doing just that, but it was touch and go for awhile. But you helped out a lot."
"Me? I haven't really done anything."
Mrs. Halvorson made a sharp laugh. "Severus, you fixed their milking machine. That alone saved them at least a thousand dollars and a few hours of work every day. And you're helping them get their produce to market. Believe me, dear, you're helping." Mrs. Halvorson paused to look at the boy, who was wearing John Norton's shirt and jeans and even his shoes. "You're helping in ways you can't even imagine right now."
There was something odd in the way Mrs. Halvorson was looking at him. "Erm, what ways?"
Mrs. Halvorson gave him a small, tight-lipped smile. "Did you know that the Nortons had two other children besides Becky?"
Severus felt a cold chill run through him. Had two other children. "No, I didn't."
"They would have been Becky's older and younger brothers, had they lived, and she would have been the middle child. But they both had a genetic disorder that killed them hours after birth. They're in the Rushford cemetery."
"That... that's awful," Severus said, when he could finally speak.
"They both wanted sons, John especially," continued Mrs. Halvorson. "But John decided that he couldn't put Sarah through another pregnancy, not when the outcome wasn't likely to be any good."
"Oh."
Severus stood for a long time, just staring at his batch of potion in the cauldron, watching it cool, and not knowing what else to say.
Then a thought hit him, and he looked up at Mrs. Halvorson in wild surmise:
"Are you saying that –"
"Yes, I am, Severus," Mrs. Halvorson finished gently for him, in a manner that made him suspect she could now read his mind as fluently as Julie could. "You're the son they've always wanted. The son they've never had, and never could have had – until now."
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The rest of that day, Severus thought about what Mrs. Halvorson had told him.
Now that it was pointed out to him, he thought he could feel the son-hunger, the yearning, rising up from John Norton like a shimmering, living thing. Suddenly, it was a lot easier to see why the Nortons, Becky excluded, had embraced him so readily.
Him, Severus Snape. Ugly, unwanted Severus Snape.
But he wasn't ugly to them. Or to Mrs. Halvorson. Or, most especially, to her granddaughter.
He was valued. He was wanted.
He was happy.
And he decided, from that point onward, that he would do his best to make sure that they all were happy, too. Even Becky, if he could. Though that last would be difficult, he judged.
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Mr. and Mrs. Norton decided to celebrate becoming Severus' guardians by taking him to a sizable city called called Winona, some thirty-odd miles to the north, to get some new clothes of his own – clothes that hadn't first been worn by Mr. Norton.
They all piled into the Nortons' car, an old Chrysler Dodge Coronet, which was a large, blue-with-faux-wood-trim estate wagon, or what the Nortons called a "station wagon". It was roomy enough inside to seat them all in comfort, with a sufficiently wide gap between Becky and Severus in the back seat.
"Buckle up, kids," Mr. Norton called out to the denizens in the back. "Becky, show Severus how they work, okay, honey?"
"Okay, Dad," grumbled the Nortons' daughter. She turned a grumpy face towards Severus. "Okay, this is the buckle," she said, pointing to a metallic box connected to a sort of fabric strap, "and this," she continued, holding up a small metal plate at the end of another fabric strap, "slides into the buckle, like this --" She suited the action to the word, and the buckle made a small click as the metal plate slid home. "Got it, Stink?"
"Got it, Brat."
She scowled at him, and he smiled.
"Now behave, you two," said Mrs. Norton from the front seat.
"We will, Mom," replied Becky.
"We will, Ma'am," Severus said simultaneously with Becky.
So much for my vow to be nice to Becky, Severus thought as he leaned back in his seat.. Oh, well, she wouldn't know what to do if I was nice to her...
It was Severus' very first time in an automobile. It was... interesting.
It felt a bit like riding on the Hogwarts Express, but then it didn't. The seats were upholstered differently, for one thing – a sort of fake leather as opposed to the soft yet durable cloth seats in the carriages of the Express. There was a bit more noise, too, both from the thrum of the engine and the hum of whatever it was that was shooting cooled air out of the vents in the front of the passenger compartment.
Deciding that Becky was best ignored, Severus instead stared out the window at the countryside that flashed by. Rolling green hills, flat river bottom lands, and small meandering streams filled his vision. Huge red barns on high stone foundations. Tall round grey metal structures. Cows, pigs and horses, and even the occasional flock of sheep. All of it under a brilliantly blue sky and a hot July sun.
It all looked rather lovely to his eyes.
After a few minutes, they left the quiet county road they were on and entered another, bigger roadway, studded with what seemed to be far too many cars moving far too fast.
Severus found himself gripping the arm rest on his door, but Mr. Norton didn't seem to be the least bit alarmed by the amount of traffic or its speed. He wove back and forth across the lanes with aplomb, going as fast if not faster than the cars around him.
As a way of trying to tamp down his nervousness, Severus forced himself to watch Mr. Norton's actions like a hawk. Because of this, the lad was able to notice a few things. For instance, Severus noted that Mr. Norton always signaled his lane changes before making them; he did this by flipping a long stick that jutted out from behind the steering wheel. Depending on how it was moved, the stick triggered flashing yellow lights on either the left or right side of the cars, according to whether Mr. Norton was moving to the right or left.
Gradually, the farms started giving way to smaller homes on smaller lots; Severus guessed that they must be in the suburbs of Winona. Then the homes themselves gave way to the city of Winona itself, with all sorts of shops and businesses. Mr. Norton drove north through the city, stopping at last to point the wagon into a large car park near an even larger building that looked like it had to be a very big shop of some sort.
"Here we are, son," he said to Severus, as he pulled into one of the few available parking spaces near what had to be the front entrance of the giant shop. The word "Sears" hung on the wall over the double glass doors in letters that Severus guessed were at least ten feet high. It was only one storey, but it was sprawling, taking up nearly two acres by Severus' estimation.
They entered the store, which was every bit as big inside as it looked outside. And it seemed to sell everything a Muggle might need: Clothes of all kinds, shoes, household goods, mechanical washing machines, and a whole host of things whose purpose Severus simply couldn't divine.
Severus had decided beforehand that he was only going enough clothing for two complete changes of clothes. But the Nortons were having none of that.
They gleefully ran up and down the aisles, taking things off the racks, hangers and all, and handed them to an increasingly stunned young wizard. Even Becky was taking a part in it, treating him as if he were a life-sized version of one of her Ken dolls that she could dress up. Before they were done, Severus was staggering under the load of two pairs of jeans, two pairs of shorts, two sets of trousers made from some synthetic material, two short-sleeved golfer's shirts, two long-sleeved linen shirts, one polo neck jumper (or "turtleneck sweater", as the Americans called it), and a full formal suit complete with necktie. At least they spared him having to carry around the eight pairs of socks, eight Y-fronts and eight undershirts.
Merlin's beard, he thought as he walked along, barely able to see over the pile of clothes in his arms. They really are treating me like a son.
Once the clothes were purchased, they dropped off the clothes in the back of the station wagon before heading off in search of a quick lunch before heading back home. Mr. Norton was pulling out a large woolen blanket to put over the shopping bags, so that they wouldn't be as noticeable to any criminally-minded passersby.
Severus had a better idea. "Erm, Mr. Norton? May I try something?"
Mr. Norton looked up at Severus, then at the throngs of people all around them. "All right. But hold on a minute." He motioned to Mrs. Norton and to Becky. "We're going to stand between him and anyone that could see him."
"I was just about to suggest that," replied Mrs. Norton, who had already moved to flank Severus.
Once Severus was hidden from view, Mr. Norton gave him the nod. Severus pulled out his wand and muttered a quick spell. Mr. Norton found himself blinking.
"Uh, what did you do, son?" Mr. Norton asked, shaking his head as if to knock the dust out of it.
"Disillusionment Charm," Severus replied. "The bags will blend in with the inside of the wagon, and no one will see them. It'll last until we get home." Home. Yes, home. This was home for him now.
"Wonderful, son," beamed Mr. Norton, clapping Severus on the shoulder. "Let's go get some grub."
And that is what they did, at a Chinese restaurant nearby. Severus had sweet-and-sour chicken with cream cheese wontons and fried rice, a meal he decided was fit for a king.
After that, it was time for the drive home, so Mr. Norton could do the second milking of the day. Severus was so stuffed from the food, and so exhausted from the shopping, that he didn't bother to respond when Becky called him "El Stinkeroo" once they were all in the car and speeding back towards the farm. The warm sun coming in from the car windows contributed to his lethargy, and soon he was asleep, his body held in place by the seat belt.
He stayed asleep all the way to Norway township.