Just a fluffy story I've been wanting to write for some time now, as I was surprised to discover little Severus is one of my soft spots. I don't really know where it is going - I reckon I'll update when I feel like it

"Albus, have you seen the state he is in already? He will die there. You know that very well."

The former headmaster sighed, his arms crossed behind his back.

"Minerva. Of course he is not going to Azkaban. Not on my watch."

"Then it is settled. We will take care of Severus until the potion wears off."

A short pause.

"Are you quite sure? This effectively means becoming his legal guardian for five years."

The transfiguration teacher took a seat, her gaze obstinately focused on the older man's back. She still felt uncomfortable in that office; it had been, for a year, the symbol of Severus' betrayal.

"Why, Albus, do you not wish to resume your position as headmaster? Surely you must have missed it."

Slowly, the old man looked away from the window, his blue gaze falling on Minerva's neutral face. He seemed hesitant.

"I have to be there for Severus. He cannot come second ever again."

Minerva did not know what to reply. Albus had been one of her closest friends for years; she had trusted him almost blindly, had hardly ever challenged any of his decisions, had understood the nature of his burden, that of having to make choices. But the war was over. She had shouted at him until she had no voice left when she had discovered the extent of his and Severus' lie. And she was angry still; she felt no compassion towards him, no empathy whatsoever even though she knew he had done what needed to be done, even though she knew Severus had willingly taken part in this awful performance. She felt lost, and for that reason she had chosen to focus on the one person she could actually help, not herself, not Albus - Severus.

"I will take care of him because I'll have a little more time as Deputy Headmistress", she said firmly. "You will find time for him as well. It will certainly be no problem to the ministry if he has two legal guardians."

She had pronounced the word "ministry" with a bitter, disgusted tone. Severus was a war hero: he should have been granted recognition and respect at the very least. Instead, he had been judged and condemned as a war criminal, mostly to do with the torture of students under his authority the previous year. This had been done to appease both parents and public opinion. Now was not the time for nuance yet - only punishment and retribution were on everyone's mind.

But, to an extent, this condemnation protected him from worse, which had happened already and kept happening: the people's tribunal.

The choice he had been given was simple. Five years in Azkaban or five years as a small child, returned to infancy by a de-ageing potion. It was a very rare sentence, one considered to be lenient, even forgiving – the law considered it to be "a chance to view the world under a different lens, to receive appropriate, human care to nurture an improved the moral compass in the individual".

But to Severus, it had been terrible news.

"He looked terrified", Albus said sadly. "His childhood was traumatic. I learnt that too late."

And he had done nothing.

Minerva shook her head.

"But he won't choose prison, will he? He won't."

Just as Albus was about to reply, the office's door opened and the Potions Master came in, pausing briefly at the threshold. He glanced at Albus first, then, slowly, nodded in Minerva's direction.

"I'll never get used to the fact the castle now lets you in without asking me first", Albus said cheerfully, smiling at the younger man. Even he was not convinced by this sudden burst of energy.

Severus crossed his arms, looking tired.

He was so thin.

"So, have you decided on my sentence yet?" he asked, his tone almost casual.

But he was pale - he was fidgeting with his hands. Oh, he was terrified of this new freedom, incapable of deciding if he was glad or furious that it had been taken away from him so quickly. He had not thought he would survive the war in the first place. He, too, was lost.

Minerva pushed her chair to the left, freeing some space for him to sit next to her. He sat uncomfortably. She looked at him apologetically - it was odd to be so close to him after a year of trying to avoid him at all costs, a year spent hating him for having taken over the school, for having forced Albus to flee, for endangering them all and the students especially.

"You are the only one who can make that choice, Severus", she said softly. "That being said... You will not go to Azkaban."

She saw no contradiction in that statement.

In his despair, Severus almost smiled. He was glad to have Minerva's friendship back. He had craved it; but now he had to let it go again.

"I have no desire to become a child. I cannot do this again."

Minerva bit her tongue.

"You would choose prison instead?"

"I don't know. Possibly."

Albus looked at him gravely. He knew that Minerva could not understand why it was that the boy would even consider Azkaban instead of a few years of childhood - to most, the question would not have occurred at all. But he had seen some things that had escaped Severus' mental barriers during their first legilimency lessons, he had felt his whole being filled to the brim with childish terror, with young Severus' terror.

It was his responsibility to alleviate it.

"Severus. Minerva and I will take care of you. It will have nothing to do with your original childhood, I promise you."

The younger man was silent. Let us make it up to you, Albus thought, but he did not speak. Severus would regarded it as pity, and that alone would have settled his choice.

"I was not exactly… a very pleasing child", the Potions Master murmured.

Minerva rolled her eyes affectionately. "I have been able to put up with you for 17 years, Severus. That, and an entire school. I am sure I can manage a four-year-old child."

She smiled, and yet inside her right pocket her fingers were wrapped around her wand. She was scared he would refuse. She was scared he would get up and leave, walking straight to his death.

It had to be done.

"Trust me, she knows what she is talking about", Albus said teasingly. "We will take care of you to the best of our ability, Severus. I know I - we - are the last ones you'd wish to receive promises from right now. But I assure you, we can do better."

Severus looked away. He felt tired, exhausted, desensitized to the whole matter, indifferent to a future that he had not planned and therefore, that he could not even envision existing. And there was a small voice at the back of his head, a child's, who was desperate to remain where it was, hidden from view; to not be thrown in a state of complete weakness and vulnerability again.

But he had been to prison already - for a short amount of time, just after the first war. He would not survive it. It did not bother him much, though he did not wish to suffer: he did not have the energy to imagine what it would be like, thus he could not feel apprehension, or fear. He knew only of the pain of the Past - he had not prepared himself for the Future, thus it scared him less.

But the sadness in Minerva's eyes, the dread, the terror: that he could not ignore. It was finding a way beyond his trance directly into his heart.

"It will be like a break, a moment of peace, dear boy. Nothing to worry about, I promise."

Minerva shyly put a reassuring hand on his arm. "Let us be the ones worrying for once, Severus."

He swallowed with difficulty.

"I suppose I am glad that I'm not left with much of a choice", he said hesitantly, his voice blank. "But you should not be the ones looking after me. The ministry usually finds a foster home -"

"We will be your guardians", Albus cut him firmly. "That matter is resolved already."

He paused, observing the younger man carefully. He did not know what to expect. He was not in control, he was not used to it - when he spoke, it was with a timidity that was perfectly unknown to him.

"So, dear boy, do we all agree? Will you give your consent?"

Severus took a deep breath. "The ministry wants an answer tomorrow. It would be most inconvenient to change my mind."

Minerva smiled sadly.

"It is quite ironic... I am certain they will use one of my potions."

His fingers started twitching again.