The usual disclaimers apply.
xx
The chair was hovering a little over the ground and when Harry leaned to his left, to where Minerva sat, the chair tilted a bit to the left and when Harry leaned a bit to his right, where 'fesser Snape sat, the chair tilted a little to the right. If it hadn't been for the two stern glances he had received from both Minerva and the 'fesser, he would have tried how far the chair would go and would have made a game of it. But as it was, he knew he had no chance but to behave. And as soon as the food arrived, he had other things on his mind. It had been so much. And he had been allowed to take as much as he wanted! Of everything. And of course while he was eating, he didn't lean to either side. He knew it was wrong here, and he knew there was no Dudley around and they had let him eat breakfast in peace but he couldn't help eating rather quickly. Minerva, and he had already gotten used to calling her Minerva, had already mildly scolded him for it but he really really really couldn't help it. He was so used to Dudley always ogling his plate with greed in his eyes as well and when you weren't quick enough or didn't pay attention for a single moment, Dudley had grabbed some stuff from your plate.
Now, realistically, he knew that this wouldn't happen here. Even Dudley would eventually begin to groan and moan and lie down flat on the floor because he had eaten too much because the table he sat at was really stuffed with food but somehow, somehow it felt strange to him to be able to eat as much and as slowly as he wanted to. On the contrary, people were scolding him for eating too little and too quickly (well, that Madam Pomfrey for the too little and Minerva for the too quickly) and that alone felt utterly strange.
But so many things around there felt strange to him and from time to time, he still pinched his own thigh or arm or whatever was close because he believed it was all a dream. Nothing as wonderful could happen in his life.
His life wasn't that bad, it was just – well, people did not like him. Here, people did. 'fesser Snape, that Headmaster-person, Minerva, Madam Pomfrey. They all, he felt, liked him. They all smiled when they saw him and they all talked to him. Talked to him as if he was a real person and not some – – – freak. It almost felt as if they wanted him there. Even if especially 'fesser Snape did not say it out loud. But then again, Harry wondered, his eyes on the most beautiful rhubarb crumble he had ever seen, whether this could be real. And if it was real, whether he hadn't been a whiny little baby earlier when he had begged 'fesser Snape to stay with him. He wanted to. He truly, utterly wanted to.
If he thought about it, he couldn't truly tell why he trusted that man so much. Why he wanted to stay with him and why he thought that 'fesser Snape should be well and okay and not pale and weird and everything. After all, he hardly knew the man. But there was something in his eyes and something in his grumpy, sometimes mean manner that he truly liked. He would protect Harry. He would protect him from Dudley and Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon and from strange, hovering, little men. Even from owls that came swooping down and were sitting there, on the table in front of that Headmaster. 'fesser Snape, when that had happened, had immediately shifted a little closer. And there was just something about him that Harry liked. End of story.
The little hovering man called Peeves though – that one was strange. Minerva had explained what a Poltergeist was but Harry had not really understood what manifestation or manifestatation or something like that meant and he had made a mental note to ask the 'fesser after all. Maybe he would be okay after that meal even though he only picked at his food as well – and most of the time, he talked to the Headmaster but Harry never even heard a single word. Maybe that was another Wizard-thing. That they could talk without actually having to talk. He would have to ask. Or maybe ask Peeves again. Couldn't hurt since he had so many questions for 'fesser Snape because most of the answers he got from Minerva, he did not truly understand. And he could tell that the 'fesser didn't like too many questions at once either. Uncle Vernon had always grown very pink in the face when he had asked too many. But luckily, 'fesser Snape was no Uncle Vernon and Harry had not even received a clip on the ears yet – despite the questions!
He pushed a bit of the most beautiful rhubarb crumble he had ever seen into his mouth and realised that it was the most delicious rhubarb crumble in the world too. This could not possibly be real. And if it was, he never ever wanted to leave this place.
xx
"Here," Severus hissed and while he pushed the roll of parchment in Albus's hand he waved his wand to make sure that the little fiend could not hear what they were talking about.
"What is that?"
"It is a list of families I have made earlier that seem to be suitable for Mr Potter," he explained coldly.
"He seems to be happy with you."
"But I'm not happy with him! And stop that twinkling of your eyes, it is annoying," he spat. "I cannot possibly keep him."
"Why not?"
"Because I can't!"
"Severus, I've known you for many years and as of now, I've never known you to make a decision, not a single one without having a, if not multiple reasons for making that decision and I'd like to know the reason, or reasons, as the matter may be, in this case," he explained gently in that grandfatherly tone of his and his eyes did not stop twinkling.
"Then this is the first time," Severus hissed. "I don't want to live with the child."
"The castle added this room, my boy. I only furnished it."
"Furnished it," he repeated annoyed. "I don't care if the castle added the room or if the ghosts did it. I cannot take care of that child."
"Of that child?"
"Any child!"
Albus said nothing to this, merely unrolled the parchment he had shoved into the older man's hands earlier and studied it with interest before he partially disillusioned it and conjured a quill that was disillusioned after a moment as well.
"So those are the families you think suitable to raise Harry?"
"Yes," Severus nodded stiffly.
The Headmaster scanned the list and tutted and fussed, scratched things out, wrote things on it but due to the disillusionment, Severus was unable to see anything and huffed quietly to himself.
"There. That is acceptable," Albus said gently and cancelled the spells and handed Severus the parchment back.
Every single name he had written on it had been crossed out and reasons written behind the names.
Abbott: limited means
Bones: No room for H.
Bullstrode Sympathiser to V. Left UK.
Diggory: V focused on their only child.
Liebig: moved to France
Longbottom: A. is busy enough with N. But might take H. on to teach.
Parkinson: Death Eater. Do not try to be funny.
Peterson: G. did not get on with L. and J.
Warrington: Pureblood-maniac. Do try not to be funny.
Weasley: Have 7 children.
Severus glared at the Headmaster. "Very funny," he hissed. "Do you have another idea?"
"As a matter of fact, I do," Albus grinned and with a finger, dragged the parchment closer to him again and scribbled a name. Severus suspected with dread what would be on it – and as he pulled it back and groaned.
Snape
"Funny," he hissed. "I can't take care of him."
"You can. And you will," the Headmaster argued. "And if you won't, I'll take him to the Malfoys."
"That is blackmail."
"Yes," Albus smiled and turned his full attention back to his pudding as Severus fumed next to him. Did it really come down to him or the Malfoys? Or back to Petunia Evans? It couldn't be. Well then, the solution was clear. There was only one to be drawn.
He would indeed let the boy sleep in his quarters, but at the same time, he would do more research on families and while he was doing it, would make sure that the boy did not want to stay with him anymore. Besides, he could always bring him to Minerva or Poppy if all else failed. Yes. That was the best way. And it was the simplest. He just had to be his obnoxious, people-hating self. And that was simple.
Severus smirked. So, he had liked reading the book. Well, then he would have to put that all to practice. Yes, yes, he was aware that this wouldmean questions after questions again, but at least those were about a subject he knew the answer to, and would probably keep them about parents and evil aunts and everything else at bay.
"Come along, Mr..." he began, then thought better of it, "Come along, Harry."
The boy lit up like a wand that had been lumosed and beamed at him.
"No need to be so cheery," he smirked still. "You have an hour before bedtime," ah yes. Strict bedtimes. Strict rules and the boy would be begging to be taken away after a few days.
"An hour?" the boy asked incredulously. "Really? That long? Cool. Can you explain the potions-thingy again then before, 'fesser Snape? Please? Or can I read in bed? Can I?"
He ignored Albus's smirk, he ignored Minerva's catlike grin, he ignored Poppy's gentle laughing and dragged the boy along with him.
xx
Oh, this was marvellous. He had an entire hour before he had to be in bed. An entire hour! With the 'fesser. He had thought that the 'fesser would probably send him straight to the room and straight to bed, which would have been awesome too because he really loved that room but talking to 'fesser Snape was even better. Really! An entire hour. He sighed in bliss.
And the 'fesser even held his hand so he didn't get lost in those corridors with those nooks and crannies everywhere. He pulled a bit, but then he was tall and had long legs and walked fast and Harry was small and had short legs and couldn't walk quite so fast but at least he didn't have to run to keep up.
But then, suddenly, a thought hit him when they passed the portrait of a horse with a grumpy looking woman next to it and a fat man sitting on the poor horse. There was no real resemblance and the fat man even smiled at him and bowed his head but somehow, this picture reminded him of his aunt and uncle. They had just let him go. Well, Uncle Vernon had not been at home but Aunt Petunia had almost seemed happy to be rid of him. And even though he truly had wanted to leave this place and come to a magical castle like this, he felt a stab inside himself. A stab that hurt. Horribly.
"'fesser Snape?" he asked in a little voice.
"What?" he asked, noticing that Harry had slowed down.
Well, he wasn't sure 'what?' since there was only one question burning in his brain. A question that seemed clear as day inside his head but that was difficult to find the words to ask it for. 'fesser Snape though was nice and stopped walking and looked at him. "What is it?"
"Erm," Harry replied, knowing what he wanted to know but not knowing how to ask. Maybe the simplest way was the best way. He swallowed and took a deep breath. "Whydintmyauntlikeme?" he asked quickly.
"Excuse me?" 'fesser Snape asked and bent down a little.
"Whydintmyauntlikeme?"
"Speak clearly," he shook his head. "Stop mumbling and stop stringing the words together. Diction, Mr Po...Harry."
"Why didn't they like me?" he mumbled, his face towards the ground. It was a silly question. And it sounded all wrong. It wasn't quite what he wanted to know. He wanted to know why Aunt Petunia wasn't sorry at all that he left, why she was happy he was gone and why it had to be him. Why his parents had to leave her with Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon and Dudley and not with someone else.
'fesser Snape though, sighed and cast a long look at him, Harry felt it burning the top of his head and he felt compelled to at least look at the man. "Your aunt knew you are a wizard," he said sharply. "And your aunt likes things just so and you being a wizard means that things around you are not just so."
"Huh?"
"Abnormal, in her eyes, pay attention," he snapped. "Since she can't do magic, she abhors it."
"But..." he hesitated "What?"
"Butitsnotmyfault," he mumbled again.
"Diction," 'fesser Snape said clearly.
"But it's not my fault that I'm a wizard, sir," he replied, looking into the man's eyes again.
The 'fesser sighed again. "No, it is not. However, since you did not fit into her standard, boring life, she did not particularly..."
"Like me," he finished the sentence. "So she would have liked me if I'd've been no wizard?"
"Possibly," the 'fesser said but Harry could hear from his voice that he doubted it himself.
"'sunfair," he mumbled.
"Well, you will find," 'fesser Snape said gently and he slowly began to walk again, Harry following, "that life very rarely is fair."
Harry walked slowly, pondering his words. He sighed and it was not the blissful one he had made a moment before. "She never told me that she knew I was a wizard."
Suddenly, the 'fesser spun around and stared, his eyes suddenly quite cold, down at him. "Your aunt is a vile woman who should not be let loose on any children or any other human beings for that matter. She told you nothing but lies. Your mother and father did not die in a car crash. As if someone as brilliant as Lily would let that happen or if someone like Potter was even able to drive a car."
Harry stood, his eyes wide. He had never yet seen the 'fesser so...angry. Emotional. And then the words registered in his mind. Lily was his mother. Potter was his father. Obviously. "D-did you know my mum and dad?" he asked carefully but by the time he had finished his question, the 'fesser had already yanked his hand away and was walking away so briskly that he had to jog again to keep up – knowing that it was better not to ask a question at the moment.
xx
Minerva stood behind her husband, her hands on his shoulders, fingers pressing against tense muscles. "And you really think it is a good idea?" she asked gently.
"I have no other. And Severus will be the best possible option we have. Can you see Harry Potter growing up amongst the Weasleys?"
Minerva frowned, "Yes, why?"
"As an eighth child? He needs care. He's already coming from a home that was less than ideal."
"Which I told you."
"Don't, Minerva," he pushed her hands away and stood up quickly. "What choice did I have? Bring him here right from the start? Where everyone would have pointed with a finger at him? Where everyone would have pampered him? I couldn't do that. He needs time to grow, time to be older before he knows that he's famous and Merlin, almost worshipped. And the same thing would have happened in any other wizarding family, including the Weasleys. The only person that I can think of who will not let that happen, who will not worship Harry is..."
"Severus," she interrupted. "Hm. Yes. Maybe. I don't doubt he'd be a good guardian, Albus. I don't doubt that at all. What I doubt is, no, what I worry about is Severus. Did you see Potter's eyes? I know you told me not to say anything, to forget the matter but I can't. This child is not only a constant reminder of his own rotten childhood and the fact that nobody came to get him out of that hole Eileen lived in with that...bastard, but also that he's the child Lily had with Potter."
"I know," Albus replied slowly. "Let's just hope that he doesn't see it that way but rather that he begins to realise that with Harry, he has a reminder, a living reminder of Lily. Her last legacy and that he is well worth protecting – and not only because he is the one that might be able to finish Voldemort."
"Yes," Minerva sighed, "let's."
xx
His temper had gotten the better of him. Again. And he had spilled things he had no intention of spilling. And the boy? The boy trotted, jogged by his side. Quiet, just accepting that he was not answering his question. And how could he? The boy would not understand. Lily's son. He shook his head to himself.
If Lily could see him now, if she was in fact seeing him now from wherever she was – she would hate him even more. For treating her son like that, for being unfair, for being rude. She would, if she wasn't watching, spin in her grave at top speed. And no, he could not do that. He could not be the reason why Lily was spinning in her grave. He could not be the reason that she tutted, the way she always did when she disapproved of something wherever she was. He needed to get the boy to dislike him, and to want to go on his own without making her, wherever she was, angry.
He undid the wards, let the boy step into his rooms and took a deep breath. It confused him. All of this confused him and Severus Snape hated, hated to be confused.
"Go get the book and I will answer your questions," he said, choking almost, on his own words and when those eyes, again, those eyes, looked up at him, he felt his throat tighten and he whispered, in a voice that was not his own, "Your parents and I went to school together."
xx