Well, here is the next chapter! My longest one yet. My goal is make each chapter a bit longer than the previous one until I reach a decent length. Thanks again to all my readers and reviewers! The usual disclaimer applies.
On with the story!
Previously:
I must be going mad… or dreaming. There is no way that the greasy git, miserable old bat, also know as Severus Snape, could be here defending me against my insane uncle! Before Harry could process anything else, however, the room swirled around in his vision once again, and he fell deep into unconsciousness.
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Chapter 6: In which a son is rescued and a father comes forth
Snape appeared in the midst of a cluster of trees. Well, I really shouldn't be surprised. Albus did say this is where I would end up. Now, let's see what my… er… son is up to. Snape peered out from among the tree and down the street. Two perfect rows of identical houses stretched out before his eyes. Each house had yards of yellow grass from the drought, although Snape was willing to bet anything that in years past, they were green and fresh. As he scanned the sight in front of him, he noticed a particular house that stood out. This one had quite the yard with its immaculately trimmed green grass and pruned flowers. I thought the muggles tried to cut back on water during a drought, not use it more than usual. Now, which one is Number 4?
Just as Snape was about to step out from his hiding place behind the trees, a lone figure appeared from an alleyway, walking as fast as he could without running. He was taller than Snape remembered, but he could recognize that mess of raven-black hair anywhere. The young man turned his head in Snape's direction and bright, emerald green eyes flashed in the moonlight. That is my son. He has my Lily's beautiful emerald eyes. If only Lily could be alive to see her son almost fully grown. She would be so proud. I wonder what he really looks like? Oh snap out of it! It's not as if the boy will want me for a father. Not when he has that mutt and werewolf drooling all over him. Snape was a bit shocked to feel disappointment running through him. He quickly pushed that foreign feeling away, shaking his head as if trying to have the intruding emotion expelled from his head. That was the last thing he needed: to get his hopes up that his son would be able to move past the previous five years and want a father like him.
The potions master watched as his son – he did not know what to call the boy as 'Potter' was clearly out of the question, and 'Harry' did not seem to fit him anymore – hurried up the driveway and stop for a moment at the door. He seemed to be hesitant about something, although Snape had no idea what about. It was not that late at night, and surely his relatives would not care. They probably had no idea that the most feared dark lord in centuries has been reborn, let alone that five death eaters just tried to kidnap, and possibly kill their nephew.
Ignorant muggles, Snape thought savagely. Even if they did know, would they care? The Petunia I remember hated her sister. I only hope that hatred did not transfer to her nephew. His son turned the handle on the front door and walked inside. Snape walked quietly towards the house that had just been entered, and saw that it was the same house that stood out with its green and vibrant lawn. I should have known. Petunia was always obsessed with everyone's opinion of her and especially her image. That worry seems to have intensified over time.
Snape looked up at the house and was surprised to find his son peering out from behind a closed curtain. What on earth is he doing? Then it came to him. Of course. He is probably extremely paranoid right now because of the death eater attacks. Snape stood completely still as his son's head turned all of sudden and black eyes met green. Stupid! Stupid man! Snape scolded himself. What is he going to think now? How often does a man wearing black robes come and stand staring at his house? Please don't raise an alarm. I really do not wish to deal with Petunia and her lard of a husband right now.
Snape fears were unfounded as Harry disappeared from sight. Quickly disillusioning himself, Snape crept quietly to the door. He found the door unlocked and swiftly entered the house, shutting the door as quietly as he could behind him. He heard voices silence and once again cursed himself for not being quieter. He waited for someone to come and investigate, but the only movement was a rather large boy thundering into the kitchen.
Must be Petunia's son. How could two boys be raised by the same adults and only one of them turn into a small whale? Did they starve their nephew? Not wanting to consider where that train of thought would take him, he stood in the entranceway, attempting to come up with a way to remove his son from this house without alerting any of its more… sensitive inhabitants to his presence. Snape could sense another headache coming on, and dealing with close-minded muggles was a sure way to double the pain.
His planning was interrupted by a raised voice coming from a room close by. Curious, Snape crept forward, and a sight that made him stop dead greeted him. His son was on the ground, clutching his head as blood oozed out from between his fingers. Snape froze at the sight of his son's blood. His mind was screaming for him to move, but for some reason, his body was unable to function properly. Move Severus! His mind screamed. For God's sake move it! That man is going to kill your son!
Time seemed to slow down. Snape finally regained use of his limbs and realized that the large muggle was bearing down on his son with an extremely sharp fire tool. He flicked his wand towards to man and was satisfied to see him freeze, unable to move. Snape watched his son look at his uncle in shock.
"I do believe that I have seen enough abuse, you filthy, half-swine, pathetic, miserable muggle," Snape said in the lowest and most dangerous voice he could muster. He was seething with rage, and it was radiating off of him in alarming waves. How could anyone strike a child, let alone attempt to kill one? Snape knew that abuse was not unheard of among wizarding families, especially in families where one or more member was a death eater, but a child's life was still prized far above most other things in life.
Seeing his son in obvious pain brought to Snape's mind scenes from his own childhood of loneliness and the never-ending anger from his violent father. Pushing the memories back, he knew he needed to focus on the task at hand: get his son out of this hellhole and into the safety of Hogwarts. He saw his son finally collapse from blood-loss, and that brought him out of his reveries.
He levitated the boy's uncle over by the fireplace and cast a quick stunning spell on him. Snape did not need the obese man to jump him unexpectedly. Snape glanced over to the other boy in the room and saw that he was frozen stiff, his eyes wide with fear. Snape could not tell if that fear was directed towards himself or to his cousin's current state, he found that he did not really care. Satisfied that the muggle boy would not hinder him, Snape moved swiftly over to his son to assess the damage that had been done.
There was a rather nasty wound on the boy's head, but luckily, that could be easily closed up. Snape knew that there would also be bruising along the boy's back and sides, possibly a few cracked ribs. Poppy could take care of those injuries at Hogwarts. Right now, he had to stop the bleeding from the child's head.
Snape had learned early on in his magical studies that healing charms and potions were a necessity to keep up a foolproof façade. Not only did he need them after every summer to hide the abuses of his father, but he also needed them inside the walls of the castle. Many of his peers at Hogwarts came from abusive families and in turn took their anger out on other students, especially the more defenseless first and second year students. A small, scared voice came out from behind him:
"Please, sir," Dudley said quietly, yet urgently. "Will Harry be alright? Can you fix him with your wand?"
Snape froze, anger welling up inside him, but he realized that the boy was actually concerned for his cousin's health. No fault rested on either of the boys, only the fat lard of a man currently stunned in the corner.
"Yes, your cousin will recover from his physical injuries, although I'm not sure what psychological damage has been done." Snape paused, unsure if he wanted to know the answer to his next question, but asked it anyways. "Is this the first incident of its kind, or is it a… common occurrence?"
"This is the angriest I have seen my father this summer," The boy thought for a moment. "Harry occasionally has a bruise or two about him, but I don't know if my father is to blame. Before this summer, though, it hasn't happened since before Harry got his letter from Hogwarts." Dudley chuckled without humor. "I think it stopped then because my parents thought that wizards were watching Harry and they were afraid of what would happen if anyone found out."
Snape was waving his wand over his son's head, pondering Dudley's words. The wound on his son's head closed up nicely, and Snape pulled out a blood-replenishing potion. Tipping the boy's head back, he carefully poured the potion into his mouth, massaging the boy's throat so it was swallowed without any problems. A thought popped into Snape's head:
"And your mother?" he asked, feeling slightly sick. "Did your mother stand for this, or did she just turn a blind eye to her husbands abusive ways?"
"My mum did not really care what my father did up until this summer," Dudley said honestly. "This summer, though… I overheard her talking to my dad loads of times. Telling him to be more careful around Harry. Her excuse was that your kind might be watching, but I don't think that was the real reason. But I saw her when she thought I wasn't around, talking to Harry, and being kinda civil towards him. Harry has been downright confused about it all. He even asked me about it today. I think my mum has a soft spot for Harry now. I think she is finally realizing that breaking ties with her sister was a horrible decision."
"And how do you know about Lily?"
"I don't really know a whole lot about my aunt," Dudley said. "When we were younger, Harry would ask questions about his parents, but mum wouldn't say anything about them. I didn't really understand, but Harry explained a bit of it to me today. I think my mum was more jealous of Aunt Lily than anything else."
Another thought came to Snape: "Where is Petunia right now?" The last thing he needed was for his sister in law to shriek unexpectedly at the sight of her precious husband heaped in a corner. Despite Dudley's words, Snape was still skeptical at Petunia's sudden change of heart.
"I think my mum was out with a friend tonight," Dudley glanced over at the clock over the mantle. "She said she would be back over half an hour ago. I don't know what is keeping her.
Deciding that a confrontation with Petunia Dursley would only speed up the impending headache, Snape made to scoop his son up into his arms. Of course, Fate had other plans, because the front door swung open and shut at that exact moment. A shrill voice exploded into the room:
"What happened?" she cried, stumbling into the room. Snape turned around to find her staring at her husband. She looked up at Dudley who was standing there nonchalantly as if having his uncle stunned in the corner was an everyday occurrence. Petunia's eyes finally reached Snape and the child in his arms and they widened even further.
"You!" she said, backing up. "I – Severus?"
"You know him?" came the shocked voice of Dudley.
Silence and tension filled the room. Well, this was unexpected. Snape thought wryly.
"I'm surprised you remember me after all these years, Petunia. You only saw me once." he said aloud, cocking a single eyebrow.
"Yes - at Li- At her wedding." Petunia said as if it were the most obvious fact in the world. "I never forget a face I have seen before, and I certainly remember yours. I recognized it immediately. I don't know why she divorced you, but she must have had good reason to. But that is beside the point. What are you doing in my house with my nephew?"
"Why don't you ask your tub of a husband?" Snape returned in his most snarky voice. "Ask him why I came to retrieve the boy only to find your husband striking the child and attempting to kill him with a fire poker." At the shocked look on the woman's face, Snape decided he had had enough with her. He scooped up his son into his arms and turned to look back at Petunia and Dudley.
"Now, if you will excuse me, I will be taking my son and he will never return here as long as I have any say in the matter."
"Your – your son?" Petunia squeaked. It would have been most amusing to Snape had his son not been unconscious in his arms.
"Yes, Petunia. My son." Snape said quite protectively. "I most certainly did not divorce your sister. It was too dangerous for us to be together anymore, so we each went our separate ways, promising to reunite when the Dark Lord fell. She found out she was pregnant shortly after, but due to circumstances," Snape paused, gathering his emotions, "I did not find out about our son until recently. She married James Potter as a cover up."
"But… how… his father?" Petunia stuttered.
"I do not have to explain myself to you, Petunia." He said with a sneer. "You should be leaping with joy at what I am saying. You do not have to worry about my son any longer. God forbid he should burden your doorstep any longer. You can go back to your happy, normal life without magic."
"But… his father…" Petunia said again.
"ENOUGH!" Snape said dangerously. "You had your chance, and you failed miserably. Your own son could see that. This child deserves nothing less than a loving, caring family, and you could not even provide that. He will be given the opportunity to decide whether he wishes to remain under my care or return here." He sneered again. "Somehow I doubt he would ever want to live here again after what just took place. Although I have my reservations of caring for the boy, even I think I would be a more suitable guardian for him.
I would suggest you think very carefully about your nephew. If it were up to me, I would want revenge for my son growing up in such an abysmal home. I will be returning for his belongings, so I advise you to leave them alone. Oh, and do not worry about your husband. He will wake up eventually. Good day."
Snape carefully pulled out the muggle pen without dropping his son so he could reactivate the portkey. "Home," he said clearly. He felt a jerk behind his naval and gripped his son close to his chest as they disappeared in a whirlwind of color. They were finally going home.
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Albus Dumbledore was still sitting at his desk as he glanced up at the grandfather clock for the third time since his potions master had disappeared to Privet Drive. Dumbledore had gathered up the five death eaters and bound them together. After placing them in yet another secret room in his office, he settled back into his chair, his thoughts turning to a certain father and son duo.
It had been almost half an hour, and Dumbledore had to admit he was beginning to wonder what was taking them so long. He knew enough about Harry's life away from Hogwarts to know that there would be no tearful or long-winded good byes. It should be a quick packing up of Harry's things and portkey trip back to Hogwarts.
Another five minutes went by, and Dumbledore stood up. He was just preparing to create another portkey that would take him to Privet Drive when two people appeared in the center of his office. Dumbledore was startled to see the man who he had come to see as a son clutching Harry in his arms.
"Severus, what on earth – " Dumbledore began, but Snape's panicked voice stopped him in his tracks:
"Albus, I need to get him to the hospital wing! Is Poppy there?"
"Yes, I believe she is organizing the last batch of potions you gave her. What happened when you went to get him from his relatives?"
"I'll explain later," Snape replied forcefully. "Right now, he needs someone to look him over. I'm not sure if anything is wrong internally, but I would rather know for sure than find out later when he is dying from internal bleeding." Making sure he had a firm grip on his son, Snape swept out of Dumbledore's office and down the stairs.
Dumbledore chuckled quietly to himself despite the severity of the situation. Snape could have simply levitated Harry. There was no need to carry him. His parental instincts certainly kicked in rather swiftly. Popping a lemon drop into his mouth, Dumbledore hummed his own slightly mournful tune to "Hogwarts, Hogwarts, Hoggy Warty Hogwarts," slowly following his potions master to the hospital wing, although he would be taking a slight detour to visit Minerva McGonagall. Whatever had transpired at the Dursley residence had clearly upset Snape. Dumbledore only hoped that Harry's injuries were not so severe that they caused permanent physical or psychological damage.
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Madame Poppy Pomfrey, ruler of the hospital wing and stubborn-as-hell witch, was currently in her domain organizing the most recent batch of potions that Snape had made for her. As usual, he did not label them, leaving it up to the school nurse to figure out which potion was which. She really did not mind. It had become somewhat of a secret game between the two unlikely friends: Snape would make the potions and Madame Pomfrey would determine what the potion was. There was of course, the simple spell one could use to determine what the potion was, but that was far too easy. This way, Madame Pomfrey was not bored to tears throughout the summer with no children to oversee. She would come in once a week to receive the newest batch of potions, spend one or two days organizing them, and then return home to her three pet kneazles. She was almost finished with her task when she heard shouting from the hall:
"Poppy!"
"Hmm… that's funny," she muttered to herself. "That sounds like Severus…"
"POPPY!"
Yep.
There was no mistaking the desperate shout this time. It was indeed Severus Snape who burst into the hospital wing. What Madame Pomfrey was not expecting, however, was the person held securely in his arms. With all the times the boy had been under her watchful eye…
"Severus, what on earth – "
"No time to explain, Poppy," Snape said shortly, feeling a sense of déjà vu coming on. Didn't I just have this conversation with Albus? He placed his son on the nearest bed. "The boy needs medical attention. I think he might have a few cracked ribs, and I want to make sure that nothing is wrong on the inside. I healed his head as best as I could and gave him a blood-replenishing potion, but that was the most I could do with what I had on me."
"No need to explain any further," said Poppy, transforming into super-overly-protective-school nurse mode. She was already bustling about, grabbing the necessary potions. "I will take over from here. You go on and get some rest; you look ready to drop into sleep any moment. You have done everything you can for the boy. Let me do the rest."
"Poppy I don't think you understand. That boy is my son, and – " Snape began in one of his 'do-not-mess-with-me' tones.
"Severus," Poppy said, equally serious, staring back into those dangerous black eyes. Her expression softened at the look of helplessness on her colleagues face. She had never seen the potions master so lost before. He must not realize what he looks like, or I would be obliviated in a heartbeat. "I know."
Snape's eyes widened momentarily, betraying his surprise. "How?" he asked simply, his face a careful mask of indifference. There was no trace of the helplessness anymore.
"Severus, with all the times the boy has been in the hospital wing, don't you think I would have noticed something off about him?" At Snape's silence, she continued. "I have known since his first year. When Quirrell attempted to steal the stone. I was running diagnostic tests on him, to see if any spells were placed on him. Well, obviously I found multiple appearance altering charms. Strong ones too. They were undeniably Lily's work. I have never seen anything like them in all my days as a healer. However, I confronted Albus about them, and he felt it wise to explain the situation to me. He knew the day would come when you would find out, and he trusted me to keep it secret. I have never once betrayed that confidence."
"Very well," Snape sighed, looking down at his son. "I will leave him under your care. But I will be staying with him, at least, until I know he is sleeping peacefully. I would rather not be here when he wakes up. I doubt he would pleased to see me. He does not have very fond memories of me."
"He does not know you, Severus," Poppy said gently, bringing her potions to Harry's bedside table. "If he could see what Albus, myself, and even – on some occasions – Minerva can see, you might be surprised to find him warming up to you." Severus snorted, very out of character, and Poppy raised an eyebrow. "Well, fine then. Don't believe me. Just you wait, Severus. Someday you will wake up and find that this child has wormed his way right into your heart, and then I will be able to say 'I told you so.'"
"Somehow, I sincerely doubt that," Snape sneered at the matron. His heart, however, was clearly not in it, although Poppy would never tell him that. He knew more curses than all the seventh year students combined. She did not want to be on the receiving end of one, thank you very much.
Instead of trying to argue what she knew would be a pointless argument, she waved her wand over her charges torso. She needed to know exactly what kind of damage the boy had suffered at the hands of his relatives. Even if no one had told her that Harry's life during the summer was less than pleasant, she had seen enough abused students pass through the school to spot the signs. Every June the Boy-who-lived would leave Hogwarts, not always happy, but certainly fairly healthy. Every September, however, he would return, clearly undernourished and unusually quiet at the feast. The boy might not have been physically abused (until now, that is), but he was obviously neglected, and that alone could do quite a bit of damage to a child.
The results showed two cracked ribs, a few bruised ones, a hairline fracture in his right arm, and blood loss focused in his head. She lifted Harry's shirt to find a rather large and nasty bruise on his right side and smaller ones decorating his entire torso. Muttering about stupid, abusive relatives, she set off healing the smaller bruises. That larger one would need a salve as it bruised directly to the bones. Next, she healed the ribs, although Harry would need to stay in bed for a few days to ensure that no further damage would happen. She might be able to heal them, but they would be tender. She turned her focus to his right arm, healing it in a jiffy. Finally, she grabbed a blood-replenishing potion. Although she knew that Snape had already given him one before bringing him to the hospital wing, the boy needed another dose. He had lost a lot of blood. Tipping the boy's head back, she carefully poured it in, using the same massaging technique Snape had used on his neck to make sure that there were no issues with him swallowing it. She did not need the child dying because he choked to death on a healing potion.
She ran to her office and grabbed a bruise balm, bringing it over so she could address his bruised side. Lifting up his shirt, she carefully rubbed some of the balm onto his side. It would certainly be tender over the next week, but it would heal. She also smeared some of the healing salve onto his head where the gash had been. His head was probably bruised as well. Putting the empty vials away, Poppy returned to find Snape sitting next to his son, gazing intently at him. Pretending as if she had not noticed him, she returned to her office without a sound, a soft smile gracing her face at the thought of two people finally having what they most desired: a family.
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Albus Dumbledore entered the hospital wing twenty minutes later to find a most endearing sight. The man he had come to view as his son was asleep in a chair, holding the hand of his own child. If there were ever two people who deserve the happiness that comes with finding a true family, it is Severus and Harry. Merlin knows how much they long for someone to love them for who they are. I only hope they will find some peace amidst this terrible war.
He quietly walked past father and son, and into Madame Pomfrey's office where she was labeling potions. She looked up when the headmaster entered and nodded her head towards an empty chair in a silent request for him to sit down. Both of them sat in silence for a few moments before Dumbledore broke it:
"I see young Harry is looking much better than before. Your healing capabilities are quite marvelous, Poppy. How long will he be asleep for?"
"He should wake in the morning. I imagine that a good night's rest will do him wonders. I do not think he sleeps well after all that he has been through." She paused. "Severus has undergone quite the transformation today. Not nearly his usual snarky self. I take it you returned his memories? He at least knows that Harry is his child."
"Yes," Dumbledore said. "Yes, I did finally return what belongs to him. I think much of his old self came back when his memories did. He has certainly shown some parental attitudes towards his son. I don't believe he recognizes it, though. It will be interesting to watch the relationship between the two grow over time."
"I'm just happy I do not have to lie to either of them anymore," Poppy said emphatically. "I'm sure that I will be seeing both of them in here quite a bit over this next school year. Not many will be pleased to find out that the Boy-Who-Lived is actually the son of ex-Death Eater Severus Snape." She chuckled. "I can not wait to see everyone's faces."
"I do not think you will have that joyous opportunity for quite some time, if I have any say in it," Dumbledore said, chuckling as well. "I think the best thing for them will be to keep Harry's new identity under wraps for the time being. If Voldemort were to find out, both of them would be in even more danger than before."
"So, Harry will have to go about his life pretending that nothing has happened? Are you even going to tell him?"
"Who said anything about Harry pretending nothing has happened? I plan on giving Harry that choice. If he wishes to allow Severus to claim guardianship, then I see no reason for him to pretend at all."
"What do you mean?" Poppy asked, her eyes narrowing dangerously.
"I will let you know should the time come," Dumbledore said in his usual obnoxious, mysterious manner. The way of speaking that makes you want to bash your face into a wall and yell for him to give you a straight answer, instead of his secretive response.
Poppy was definitely feeling the need for face bashing, although she would not let Dumbledore know her frustrations. He would tell her… eventually.
Dumbledore, on the other hand, knew exactly what the nurse was contemplating in her mind. He stood up, chuckling quietly to himself, and swept from the room. As he walked across the ward, he heard a dull thumping noise coming from behind him, and had to exercise great control to keep himself from laughing any louder and risk waking the two sleeping beauties in the hospital wing.
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Sunlight slowly drifted in as the sun rose over the mountains surrounding the castle. When the sun was high enough to shine light into the hospital wing, it revealed two figures; one who was sleeping peacefully, the other who was just beginning to wake up. Severus Snape's eyes snapped open when the sun hit his eyes. It took him a few moments before he realized where he was and, more importantly, whose hand he was still holding. He quickly let go of his son's hand and stood up. He did not want Harry to wake up to his face. His son would probably scream bloody murder, and Snape would not blame him. Despite himself, Snape laughed inside, imagining the boy's face when he realized whose son he truly was. Then he quickly sobered. His son would hate him.
Snape left the ward only to almost run into Dumbledore. Great. The old man comes just when I do NOT want to put up with him. Perhaps he won't need me.
"Severus," Dumbledore said, a wide smile on his face. "Just the man I was looking for!"
Damn! Severus thought, a perfect sneer in place. I have to have the worst luck in the wizarding world. Spy to the Dark Lord, teacher to stupid dunderheads, and always running into Albus when he is the last person I want to deal with. What next?
"Why don't we visit your son?" the headmaster asked, that infernal twinkle in his eye.
You just had to ask, didn't you, Severus? Putting more emotion behind his sneer, he carefully asked: "Where do you think I have been all night? He is still asleep, and I doubt even he can hear us in such a deep sleep. Now, if you will excuse me, I have very important potions to brew."
"Please do not attempt to pull such a weak excuse on me, Severus," Dumbledore said. "Although many consider me to be quite senile, I know that you know differently. If Harry is truly in such a deep sleep, then you should have nothing to fear in coming with me."
"Albus, I am not afraid – " Snape began in an offended tone.
"Splendid!" Dumbledore exclaimed, spreading his arms wide, and wrapping one around the reluctant professor's shoulders. "Let us delay no further, then." Dumbledore pushed Snape through the hospital wing door just as Madame Pomfrey bustled over to Harry. He was awake, and looking very confused.
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Harry slowly opened his eyes only to shut them quickly. It is so bright in the hospital wing! He snapped them open again. Hospital wing? What on earth am I doing at Hogwarts? Harry reached for his glasses that he knew would be on the bedside table. He was in the ward often enough to know how the process went. Shoving them on, he took in his surroundings. A noise to his left grabbed his attention and he turned his head to see Madame Pomfrey heading towards his bed, holding a potion. Great. Disgusting potions. What a way to wake up in the morning.
He heard the door open on his right. Confused, he looked up and found black eyes staring into his. Snape? What is he doing here? A voice startled him out of his thoughts.
"Harry," Dumbledore said happily. "You are awake, good."
"Headmaster?" Harry asked. He had not even noticed who else had come in with Snape. "What is going on? What am I doing here? Why aren't I at Privet Drive? I thought I needed to stay there for the blood wards?" Dumbledore put up his hand to halt the inquisition.
"Please be patient, Harry, and everything will be explained," Dumbledore looked over to Madame Pomfrey who had shoved a potion into Harry's hand. "Ah, a pain reliever potion. Excellent. Drink up Harry. I am sure you need it after last night."
Last night? Harry thought to himself. He lifted the vial to his mouth, his mind working hard to figure out what Dumbledore was talking about. He was just swallowing the last of the potion when all the memories of the previous night came flooding back to him. His eyes widened and he almost spit the potion back out in surprise. His face reddened with embarrassment. Snape rescued me? From the Dursleys? He will never let me live this down. The whole school will know by the end of the welcome feast. I will never hear the end of it from Malfoy. Imagine: the Boy-who-lived can't even stand up and defend himself against his muggle uncle.
"Um… sir," Harry began nervously. "Er… Professor Dumbledore, that is… I – "
"Why don't we go up to my office? Hmm?" Dumbledore interrupted Harry. "We have many things to discuss immediately. That is," he paused, looking over to Poppy, "if our young charge is stable enough to leave this wing for a few hours?"
Madame Pomfrey gave Dumbledore a long, hard look. "He will be fine for a few hours," she said, her eyes narrowing. "However, if you do anything, and I mean anything to place undue stress on my patient, you will be extremely sorry. As soon as your little discussion is over, it is back here for Mr. Potter and bed rest until I say he is ready to leave."
Dumbledore inclined his head in acquiescence. "Of course, Poppy. I would never even dream of causing undue stress on one of your patients. Especially Harry here," he gestured for Harry to follow him, but Harry paused, his cheeks reddening again. "What is it, Harry?"
"Um…" Harry paused, unsure of how to ask his question. "I – er – don't have a robe, or anything, and I would rather – er – not leave this ward without one… and – "
"Ah, of course," said Dumbledore, whipping out his wand. He waved it over some bed sheets that were sitting atop a nearby bed and with a small pop they became an ordinary black robe. Dumbledore passed the robe to Harry, who slipped it on quickly before getting out of bed.
"Thanks," he said, smiling in appreciation. He wobbled, a bit unsteady on his feet, and surprisingly, it was Snape who steadied him. "Thanks," he mumbled again, unsure of this new sort-of-nice Snape he was dealing with. What is up with him? Where are the glares and the sneers? The biting remarks towards my dead father and his companions? I am so confused right now."
Snape quickly let go when Harry began following the headmaster out of the ward. He glanced back to see Poppy looking at him with an understanding smile on her face. Realizing his son and the headmaster had already left he followed them. Even if I am scared, I know I need to be there when he finds out. I only hope he takes it well. His whole life will be ripped apart in his eyes. I guess all I can do is wait for him. And what is Albus scheming about?
Snape caught up to the two men rather fast, as Harry was walking slower than normal. He kept his distance, and the three did not say anything out loud until they reached the headmaster's office.
"Ton-tongue toffees," Dumbledore said, and Harry's eyes widened once again. Chuckling at Harry's frozen stance, Dumbledore said pleasantly, "I have my ways, my boy. After you." Harry gave the older man a calculating look before climbing onto the spiral staircase.
Snape had no idea what those blasted 'ton-tongue toffees' were, but he was sure he did not want to find out. It sounded suspiciously like a Weasley product, and he had put up with enough of their antics to know he should not approach any of their creations with a ten-foot broomstick. Well, I do have to admit that they are rather brilliant creators, he thought grudgingly, even if he would never admit it out loud. If they would only put their brains to their schoolwork, they would have top grades. At least I never have to worry about their performance in my class. They certainly have experimented outside of class to understand the intricacies of the art.
They entered the circular office, and Dumbledore motioned his hand for them to sit down. It was then that Harry noticed Snape was also in the room. He avoided eye contact at all cost. Apparently, his fingernails were extremely fascinating at that moment, along with his robe. Why did he have to see me like that? Of all the people it could have been, Dumbledore sent him? I don't care if he is a spy. He is going to use this against me. Dumbledore spoke, causing Harry to look up:
"Now, Harry. Professor Snape and I have something very serious to discuss with you concerning your guardianship."
"Professor Snape?" Harry asked carefully. "Sir, may I ask why he needs to be here? If this about last night, I – "
"All in good time, my dear boy," Dumbledore said, his eyes twinkling. "You have the option, of course, of staying with your aunt and uncle. That is the safest place for against Voldemort and his followers. However, as we discovered last night," Harry blushed once again, "while the wards may protect you from death eaters, it did not keep your uncle from physically harming you. It also does not extend to the surrounding areas. I received your delivery last night, and they will be taken care of."
"Wait, professor," Harry said, confused. "If my aunt and uncle's house is the safest place for me, then why would you give me the option of moving. Who else could be my guardian? I don't know of any other blood relatives I could stay with."
"And that, is where Professor Snape comes in, but first," he held up a hand when Harry's mouth opened in shock. "I believe there are a few memories you need to see, and all will become clear." The pensieve was still sitting on the headmaster's desk from the previous night, the memories still swirling about. The light from the silver liquid was reflecting off of all the trinkets Dumbledore had littered throughout his office. It was as very good excuse for a distraction as Harry stared anywhere but at Snape. "I believe you remember how to enter a pensieve?" Harry nodded. "Once again, after you, my boy."
Harry stood for a few moments, looking rather nervous. What memories could tell me why Snape, a man who hates me, should be my guardian? Had Dumbledore seriously gone insane? Snape had been quiet the entire discussion, a mask of indifference carefully in place. Despite Harry's hesitation, he touched his hand to the shifting silvery liquid and was immediately pulled into the basin.
"Shall we, Severus?" Dumbledore asked quietly. Snape nodded curtly and also touched his hand to the contents of the pensieve, and disappeared. Dumbledore looked at Fawkes and sighed. "Well, my faithful companion, wish us luck. Goodness knows there will be a very interesting and entertaining discussion upon our return." He too put his hand to the liquid and was sucked in to the memories of one Severus Snape.
A/N: I will leave off here. I tried to include the section where Harry finds out, but I thought you would appreciate an update sooner rather than later. As you can see (well, read actually) I am keeping in most of Snape's background we find out in Deathly Hallows. I might tweak the prophecy a bit to fit my story, but I will probably keep that in as well. Horcruxes will also probably be part of the plot, although I am still debating on that one. All of our favorite characters that we both love and hate from Order of the Phoenix will also be making appearances in one shape or form.
It is very early in the morning for me and I have a 5 am flight to catch! You know the drill. Please press the pretty purple button in the corner and give me some feedback. I will try to update within the next two weeks. The part everyone is waiting for is in the chapter to come!