Snape stood on the back porch of the manor, watching his now 10-year-old son fly around on a practice broomstick. In one hand, he held a teacup, the other hand, his wand, currently being used to fling balls around the yard for Denlin to dodge. He barely even looked over as Dumbledore apparated next to him.
"Albus, what brings you here?" He asked, never taking his eyes off of Denlin.
"I heard you have a meeting with the Ministry tomorrow, I presume it's about young Denlin's abilities?" Dumbledore asked, and he watched as Snape waved his wand, and the balls arranged themselves in a neat pile to his left, a signal to Denlin that it was time to land. As he came in to land, Severus nodded, tucking his wand into one of his pockets, the long sleeve dress shirt and emerald-green vest he was wearing a stark contrast to the black robes he wore when at Hogwarts.
"Partially. The Ministry wants to know about how his abilities are coming in, but it's also to finalize the paperwork. I want to be sure everything is in order for when he goes to Hogwarts." Snape couldn't deny he was nervous. Word had been spreading of what happened nearly eight years ago in the sleepy little village. A spontaneous explosion of the house, caused by a child Doomsayer.
Doomsayers—and even Soothsayers for that matter—were not the most popular witches and wizards in the world. Doomsayer abilities were volatile, since not only could they foretell doom and disaster, almost all of them could unleash powerful magic by channeling their abilities and child Doomsayers often also unleashed predictions and bursts with negative emotions.
As Denlin landed, he staggered slightly, causing Snape to look at him and frown as soon as he saw the vacant look in his eyes. He pulled a small phial from his pocket, grabbing his son's hand and pressing it firmly into it.
"Breathe. Drink this, and it should pass. Focus on the positive emotions, not the foretold events." He said, pulling Denlin in close, holding the boy's other arm against his side firmly. After a minute of Denlin struggling, he drank the potion, and a few moments later, wrestled himself free of his father's grasp.
After he looked around for a moment, breathing slightly heavy, he spoke, sounding somewhat remorseful. "Who did I hurt this time?"
"No one, as usual, the typical methods worked, those as I told you this morning, once you start at Hogwarts, I won't be able to stop every episode for you." Snape hated the prospect of not being there for Denlin, he'd caused a lot of destruction—thankfully nothing more than a few broken vases, windows, or mirrors since he moved in—and their little ritual not only helped stop the episodes quickly, but cut down on the number of them he would have.
Denlin nodded, before looking at Dumbledore. "I apologize that you had to see that, Professor. I'll be inside with Spark."
As Denlin disappeared into the house, Dumbledore looked at Snape quizzically. "Spark?"
"His pet cat, sir. Doomsayer children have shown progress with emotional control if they have something to take care of. He originally wanted an owl, however, he also wanted something he could more often play with, so I found a witch in Hogsmeade who breeds cats for young witches and wizards who are going off to Hogwarts." It was clear Snape cared deeply for the boy he had adopted, even one as potentially dangerous as Denlin.
"Speaking of Hogwarts, are you sure it's going to be safe to send him?" Dumbledore asked.
"As I have told you and Professor McGonagall multiple times, yes. He is mostly in control of his abilities and episodes like what you just saw are rare, and that one didn't even lead to a passage, either." Snape responded, moving to the door to join his son inside.
"If there's nothing else, I'm going to go check on him."
The next day, the Denlin sat on an old wobbly chair in the back of the Ministry of Magic, quietly tracing the name written on the parchment he held tightly. While the initial paperwork had been filed seven years ago, and the Ministry recognized Snape as Denlin's father, the boy's surname had not changed, until today. He was officially Denlin Snape, and this was sure to be a day he remembered for the rest of his life.
He looked up as the door to the office in front of him opened and his father stepped out. "Thank you for completing this for us, Geneva." Severus said, as he waved for Denlin to follow him, the boy jumping to his feet and quickly following.
"Now that you're officially my son, it'll make things easier when you get to Hogwarts. On that note, I do want to teach you how to brew the potion I've been giving you to calm your episodes. It's a rather advanced potion, so I don't expect you to get it right the first time, however, it'd be good for you to know it, since I won't always have time to brew it for you."
Six hours later, the two stood in the cellar, Snape had rolled his sleeves up slightly as he walked Denlin through making the special potion.
"Carefully add three drops of Agrippa. It will likely steam up, so you can wait a moment between drops if needed. Now, add five beetle eyes. Then boil for an hour. When you come back, add your crocodile heart diced up. Simmer for another three hours, at which point, assuming you did it right, the potion should be a murky red-grey color, almost like bricks."
"Slow down! I can't write that fast!" Denlin said, scribbling the instructions down on a sheet of parchment, as the potion boiled steadily next to him.
"Let me see." Snape said, gently taking the sheet from him and reviewing it, after a tense minute where Denlin thought he had screwed up, Snape nodded. "We need to work on your handwriting, I can hardly read this, but it'll do."
At precisely that moment, there was the sound of fluttering wings, and an owl flew through the door, dropping a letter at Denlin's feet before flying out of the cellar through the window. Kneeling down, Denlin picked it up to see the Hogwarts wax seal on the back.
"Odd. I wasn't expecting your letter to arrive for a few more weeks at least. It's barely the sixth of July, letters don't normally come out until mid-month. Go ahead, open it."
Eagerly opening the letter, Denlin was disappointed to read that he was being barred from acceptance to Hogwarts due to his abilities. The letter was also addressed to his former surname, Stewart.
"It lists my old name, and says I'm not accepted to Hogwarts because of my Doomsayer abilities…" Denlin said, sadly, dropping the letter to the floor, before sinking back into the chair near the still bubbling cauldron.
As Snape opened his mouth to respond to this, he looked at Denlin, and that was when the boy's head tipped back as he threw his hands out to his sides, and began speaking, in a voice that echoed more than just his own.
"A storm is coming, fueled by anger, it's master shrouded in the fog of the destruction it will cause. Even the walls of a formidable castle cannot protect from the storm." As he finished the prophecy, Denlin tipped his head back forward, giving a strained shout.
In the seconds between the end of the prophecy and the resulting magical burst, Snape erected a shield over Denlin, containing the concussive blast to a small area, though knocking him out in the process.
When he awoke a few hours later, Denlin found himself in his bedroom, confused as to how he got there, and why, he pushed himself up out of bed, and walked to the door, poking his head out into the hallway. Nothing was broken or on fire, so if he had made a prophecy, the damage had been controlled.
He spent about ten minutes searching the house, before he even checked the cellar and found his father wasn't even there—the potion was also gone, but he could have spilled that—so that only left one option.
As he climbed the stairs to the third floor—where Snape's office was—he stopped as he heard him speaking to someone, no doubt from Hogwarts.
"I don't know what would drive anyone to send a fake letter like this. No one is rejected from Hogwarts unless they have done something blatantly heinous, and even then, most things are overlooked."
"I don't know either, Minerva, but someone did. Denlin was so devastated that it triggered a prophecy, something about a storm, anger, and a castle, I suspect Hogwarts. Though like most of his Doomsayer prophecies, likely nothing will come of it."
"Very well. I will investigate as to who sent this letter, in the meantime, I took the liberties of writing up his acceptance letter early."
After a soft popping noise that Denlin recognized as someone disapparating, he finished climbing the stairs and approached the door, before he could even knock, he heard his father's voice.
"Stop eavesdropping and get in here!" There was a sharpness to Snape's voice that told Denlin he wasn't happy, and he quickly entered the room, shutting the door behind him. "I trust you aren't hurt?" Snape asked, though the fact that Denlin was standing up was evidence of that.
"Yeah, I'm fine, though my memory is foggy, I remember making the first half of the potion and then I woke up in my bed. Did the potion turn out at all?" Denlin asked, and Snape had to smile, ever since he'd started to teach him various potions, Denlin had always been worried about making sure they turned out properly, rather than anything else, most times.
"Yes, it did. I finished it for you, since you weren't exactly available to do so." Snape said, curtly, before locking eyes with Denlin, a disapproving look in his eye.
"You know not to eavesdrop on private meetings I have in my office. You should have gone back downstairs after hearing I was with someone. In this case, you listening wasn't much of a problem, as it was about you, however, if it happens while you're at Hogwarts, you will be punished just like any other student."
Denlin nodded, before his eyes fell on the letter his father still held. "I heard the last little bit of the conversation, what fake letter?"
"I see you don't remember receiving a fake rejection letter from Hogwarts, which is probably a good thing. It triggered a prophecy about a storm fueled by anger. Well, after you were knocked out by your own magical blast, since I cast the shield charm around you, I looked at the letter more."
Snape tossed the acceptance letter onto his desk, standing up to move a little closer to Denlin. "The handwriting was off, and the signature wasn't correctly that of Professor McGonagall, so I asked her to come check it out and she agrees it is suspicious that someone would know you would be starting Hogwarts this year, as well as your abilities."
"She also gave me your acceptance letter, as you no doubt heard, so next week, after your birthday, we will go to Diagon Alley to get your supplies for school. And I'll get your birthday gift while we are there."