Tobias Snape, of course, could not be expected to suffer the loss of his son for exceptionally long.
It was a balmy spring day when Tobias, looking as tattered, worn, and absolutely enraged as might be expected for a man who had so suddenly, and with seemingly much resentment on the part of the elder witch who had taken Severus away from him. It might surprise Minerva McGonagall to know that a Muggle could have found his way so easily to Hogwarts; but then, she had gotten used to surprises; and well, it would seem that Eileen Snape would be quite desiring to have young Mr. Snape back too.
That was not about to happen.
So it was that Toby Snape, flustered and furious, burst into Professor McGonagall's office on that balmy spring morning.
She was not at all disposed to entertain him. But then, when had the Head of Gryffindor House ever been in the mood for suffering abusers?
She stood, taking in every detail of his dirt-stained, stubbly, half-shaven and unappealing face, the utter seriousness in his hardened features that bespoke of a life of some terrible cruelty, the stubborn look in his eye which spoke him a man not to be trifled with. She saw all this, and, standing so that she pushed a pile of half-baked lesson plans to the front of her desk as she placed both hands on the cold mahogany in a futile attempt to contain her anger.
"Mr. Snape," she choked out, checking the snarl that threatened to break out upon her face, and endeavoring to ignore the fact that he had blown open her door like a wildebeest and slammed it shut on his way in.
He, however, didn't bother to check his snarl.
"Now, look here," he said, Cockney drawl and alcohol on his breath doing everything in their power to add to her disgust even of a moment. "Now, look here. You have no right to take my son from me-"
Minerva stood up even taller. "Right? No right? I am a teacher, sir! It is always my right to ensure that children are being properly cared for-"
"Are you bloody callin' me incapable of raisin up my own bloody lad, miss?"
"Yes, Tobias, I believe I am," she returned, not hiding her snarl this time, when they were crudely interrupted by Minerva's office door barging open for the second time that morning.
"Good heavens, what in the-" She began, but stopped short at the sight of the Headmaster. He was looking very grave indeed, which was unusual in itself, which was becoming a far more frequent occurrence lately.
"Minerva, I must speak to you-" he ventured, but she cut him off.
"Can't it wait, Albus? Can't you see I am quite in the middle of something?"
"It will have to wait, Professor."
All in a huff, Minerva was obliged to shut the door of her office on a furious Tobias Snape, thankful only that he remained blissfully unaware of her hidden liquor stash. Some secrets were best left guarded, even from the Headmaster himself, from whom she never kept anything and to whom she confided all. T
he brisk walk to Albus's office felt as though it took twice as long as usual, suspended as she was in existential dread of what she knew was coming. Her mind was constantly on Severus, as it was more and more these days. His face, when he had gotten the new close- the way he concentrated so on his essays, made her so proud- She grew angry, as she considered how hastily he always ate from habit, conditioned to the way that big brute of a man would take food from his own son's mouth before he would deign to miss a meal. The way she had found Severus covered in bruises, the improperly healed injuries- it all came back like it was yesterday.
Albus Dumbledore himself could not take this child away from her. Minerva was determined, and when Minerva McGonagall was determined, heaven and hell could not stop her.
"Albus," she began, as soon as his office door had been properly shut on them, "Albus, I do not care, he cannot go back! You saw what that nasty Muggle did to him! Severus is better off with me, and you know it!"
She waited with bated breath for him to reply, but to her absolute shock, he sunk down into his chair in absolute exhaustion, a look of peace and calm coming into his features at her words.
"I am glad to find you finally so attached to him, Minerva."
This was more than she could bear.
"You can't honestly mean to send him back there, can you?" She started, flustered, and he held up his hand.
"Believe me, Minerva. Believe me when I say that it is entirely against my wishes, and that if there was anything I could do to prevent it, that I would not hesitate to do it. Believe me that I wish for nothing more than for Severus to remain at peace in your care. You have done very well by him, and this is unfortunately than either of his poor parents can say. Also unfortunately, whatever power I may have with the Ministry, both Muggle and Wizard law alike recognize the rights of parents to their children. I may have all the moral authority in the world, but I have absolutely no legal authority to remove Severus Snape from his home in the Muggle world at this time."
Minerva stood, mouth agape, quite flabbergasted at such a speech, quickly becoming flustered and angry in a way in which the composed and collected woman was not usually.
"So that's it, then? After all the boy has gone through, you're sending him back? How could you just give up-"
"What is it precisely that you wish me to do, Minerva?"
She began pacing back and forth and back and forth. This irritated Fawkes, who was trying to sleep, and who quietly squawked his displeasure at such a disruption from his half-slumber, but she could not care, not now.
"There must be some Muggle authority you can go to! You run the Wizengamot, for Merlin's sake! There must be someone you can go to! Someone who can sign over the Snape's parental rights to a more suitable guardian-"
"And would you be willing to take on such a role, Minerva?"
Albus looked at her blearily, chin cupped in his hands as his elbows rested on the desk, quite invested in each and every word.
"Of course, I-"
Dumbledore then did the worst thing she could have possibly expected him to do at that moment. He sighed very deeply.
"I only wish, my dear, that it was that simple. I am afraid this is getting yourself into far more than you are aware. Muggle authorities may remove Severus from Spinner's End, yes, but that does not automatically mean they would transfer him to you. Severus's father being Muggle makes this case infinitely more complicated. Wizarding law cannot infringe on Muggle law without being in violation of the Statute of Secrecy, and as you are not known in the Muggle world as any relative of Severus's-"
"The Statute of Secrecy! A boy's life is in your hands, and you babble on about the Statute of Secrecy?"
Her face was red, enflamed. She was becoming more and more irate, even to the point of incoherence. All she could see were those scars on Severus's back-
"There are laws which must be obeyed, Professor, and you know this as well as I."
Her voice grew quieter when she spoke again. "You saw the bruises. You went to his house. You know that he was whipped, Albus. Whipped by that drunken excuse for a father. How could you-"
"Unless you wish for Mr. Snape to end up in the Muggle foster care system- which, last I heard, is the last thing to be desired- and passed around from family to family, which is exactly what will happen if we take this to the Muggle authorities, there is nothing more for you to do, my dear. Mr. Snape might well sue, and-"
At this point, she moved to stand right in front of him, slapping both of her hands down on the Headmaster's desk so violently that the crack resounded across the room, causing the Phoenix to glare even harder from his perch.
"I don't care! Let him sue! Let all the Muggle authorities come after me! But they are not taking my child away!"
And as Minerva McGonagall stormed out of the room, flushed, mad, and every ounce the protective lioness he knew her to be, Albus Dumbledore could not help a small smile peak up at the corner of his lips as he regarded his colleague's unintentional slip of the tongue which had revealed the true strength of her feelings for the Snape boy.
Yes, he determined, Severus Snape was in excellent hands, and he need not worry about him returning to Tobias and Eileen anymore. His plan was working excellently.
Minerva was exceedingly glad when she remembered that she had asked Severus to stay in her quarters that night. Not, of course, out of any infernal desire of keeping a skulks Slytherin teenager close-
Oh, who was she kidding? She made no bones about her attachment to Severus anymore. He was her son, and she did not care who knew it.
When she walked into the living room, she found him stolidly sitting on the couch with- of all things- a book of Muggle poetry in his hands, so engrossed that he did not even hear her enter. She wondered, briefly, where he could have gotten hold of it, and she suspected Miss Evans had had her hand in it. She cleared her throat.
"What are you reading, child?"
Despite the gentleness in her voice, he jumped, as she knew he would, and she placed a gentle hand on his shoulder to calm him. It was a testament to the vast improvement he had made already that his recovery was so immediate, and in light of that day's trials, she was especially glad of it now.
"A poet called Tennyson," he replied, very eager to show her. "Listen-
A still small voice spake unto me,
'Thou art so full of misery,
Were it not better not to be?
Then to the still small voice I said
'Let me not cast in endless shade
What is so wonderfully made."
She sighed in peaceful contentment at the confidence and strength of the baritone voice. Yes, she was very proud of her son.
"Wonderfully made, indeed," she whispered into the raven hair, kissing his head, "And I don't care how full of misery you be. I am glad you are in this world, Severus Snape."
Who could have imagined, still less than a month ago, when she took her reluctant charge, who could have thought she- strong, uncompromising, unyielding woman, never affectionate and by far Hogwarts's strictest Head of House, would feel for this scrawny unloved boy in her rival house more affection, more concern, more of a desire to look after his well-being, yes- even of love, than she had ever felt for anyone else in her entire life?
And in that moment, leaning against his new mother's chest, Potter and his gang out of his mind for the first time in all that day, for the first time permitted the safety and the leisure to think pleasant thoughts, for the first time reflecting that perhaps all the world was not as doomed to gloom and misery as he had thought; that perhaps, after the rain stopped that evening, that the sun would come out again- for the first time content, for the first time loved, he fell asleep, in Minerva's arms.
She cooed when she realized, and held him closer, feeling frightened, so much more frightened than she had ever felt in her life- afraid that if she blinked, the boy would be gone, and she would have lost him for ever- so terrified was she, that when she carried him to bed, she did not bring him to his own bedroom which his obsidian, all-seeing eyes had viewed with such judgment, such hatred, upon his arrival there. No, indeed- she carried him to her own bed, and laid him under her own sheets, and though she would have denied it to anyone who dared to say it, she laid with him all night. For the first time.
And, she was afraid, the last.