Cokeworth, England. Hospital
"What?! No! Severus, you don't know this woman. You can't just go live with her out of the blue!" Mrs. Evans's voice was shrill with concern as she paced the small hospital room, her frustration filling every corner.
Severus glanced at her, steadying himself as he fastened the last button on the shirt Mrs. Johnson had brought. He took a breath, forcing himself to stay calm. "I know it seems sudden, but this is my decision, Mrs. Evans. I'm not asking for anyone's permission."
She stopped in her tracks, her eyes filled with desperation. "But she's a stranger, Severus. You're rushing into something dangerous."
"It's not dangerous," he countered, casting a brief look towards Irina, who stood in the corner with an impassive expression, watching him. "She's my family, my real family. This… this is my chance to know where I come from."
Mrs. Evans opened her mouth to argue, but Mrs. Johnson placed a calming hand on her shoulder. "Let him choose, Rose," she said softly. "It's his life." Mrs. Evans stopped before pushing the hand off her shoulder.
Mrs. Evans shrugged her hand off, visibly bristling. "Let him choose? He's choosing to live with a stranger!" She shot Severus an exasperated look, her voice rising with every word. "Severus, I don't know what she's told you, but you barely know anything about her, or this 'family' she claims to be offering you."
Severus's patience thinned as he clenched his fists, barely holding back his frustration. He knew Mrs. Evans cared, but she wasn't listening, not really. He didn't need to be convinced to stay—he needed her to respect his decision, just this once.
"Why won't you trust me to make my own choice?" he muttered, his voice sharper than he intended. "You're acting like I don't know what I'm doing, like I can't make decisions for myself."
Mrs. Evans's eyes flashed, and she crossed her arms defiantly. "Because, Severus, I'm worried for you. You've just lost your parents. You're vulnerable, and she's taking advantage of that."
Severus took a steadying breath, trying to keep his voice calm but feeling the weight of her doubt and mistrust stinging him deeply. "I know what I'm choosing, and I know why I'm choosing it. You don't get to decide what's best for me."
But she didn't back down, stepping closer with desperation edging her tone. "And what if you're wrong? What if you're stepping into something dangerous? You're just a child—you don't understand the world like you think you do."
Something in Severus snapped. "Enough!" he shouted, his eyes darkening with frustration. "I've spent my life waiting for someone to actually give a damn about me—someone who's not here to tell me I'm wrong for wanting to leave this behind." His voice cracked as he struggled to stay composed. "Why can't you just let me go?"
A tense silence hung between them as Mrs. Evans's face fell, her expression shifting from anger to uncertainty. But before she could respond, the blue doors burst open, and his grandmother strode in, flanked by several officers and nurses.
"What's happening?" Severus asked, stepping around Mrs. Evans, his gaze darting between the newcomers and Irina.
Irina's sharp eyes swept over the room, settling on Mrs. Evans with a faint look of disdain before softening as they landed on Severus. "Just some final arrangements, my dear," she said calmly. "We're here to make sure everything is in order for your discharge."
Mrs. Evans stiffened, glancing at the officers. "You can't just take him! Severus needs time—he doesn't understand what he's walking into!"
Irina's gaze turned steely, her voice smooth and unyielding. "On the contrary, Mrs. Evans, Severus is perfectly aware of his choice. He made it freely."
"You—manipulated him!" Mrs. Evans's voice rose as she jabbed a finger in Irina's face, her eyes blazing.
Irina didn't flinch, her expression calm yet impenetrable. "I suggest you lower your voice," she replied icily. "Severus deserves respect, as does his decision."
Mrs. Evans let out a huff, refusing to back down. "Respect? You've known him for five minutes! I'm the one who's been here, watching over him, supporting him."
"And yet," Irina said, her tone laced with finality, "he chose family."
Severus shifted uncomfortably, feeling the weight of their anger bearing down on him. He glanced at Mrs. Evans, but something inside him urged him to hold firm. He was done with being pulled between worlds he didn't belong to.
Irina rested a steady hand on his shoulder, her tone unwavering. "He'll be more than fine," she assured Mrs. Evans, her words laced with finality. "Better than anything you could provide, because he'll be with his true family."
Severus cast a glance back at the officers and nurses lingering by the door, poised as though waiting for the right moment to intervene. Their watchful silence only added to the tension, and he felt the weight of their eyes on him.
Mrs. Evans's face tightened, her frustration barely concealed. "Family?" she echoed bitterly, looking between Irina and Severus. "You've known him for days, and you think that makes you family?"
Irina dismissed Mrs. Evans with a small, controlled smile before turning to the officers and nurses, motioning for them to step forward and take charge.
One of the officers stepped forward, clearing his throat as he glanced between the two women. "We've finalized the paperwork. Mister Severus Snape is now officially under the guardianship of his grandmother." he announced, his tone firm.
Mrs. Evans's face blanched, her fists clenching at her sides. "You're making a mistake," she said quietly, her voice laced with desperation as she looked at Severus. "Severus, please. You don't have to do this."
Severus looked down, feeling the weight of her words, but a strange sense of resolve held him steady. He felt Irina's hand give a gentle squeeze on his shoulder, a silent promise of the family he'd never known.
Without another word, he turned his gaze back to the officer and nodded, signaling he was ready to leave.
He watech as one of the officers went to lead Mrs. Johnson out the room, but not before the woman pulled a tupperwear container of homemade cookies and placed them in his hands.
The warmth of the container seeped into his palms, a comforting contrast to the chill settling in his chest. Mrs. Johnson's eyes softened, a gentle smile breaking through her worry as she whispered, "For the road, dear. And remember—you've always got a friend here."
Severus managed a nod, clutching the container tightly, feeling an odd mix of gratitude and sorrow. He glanced at Mrs. Evans one last time, her expression a blend of anger and fear, her lips pressed into a tight line as she looked away.
Irina gave his shoulder another firm squeeze, guiding him toward the door with a quiet authority. "Come along, Severus," she murmured, leading him into the hallway, the bustling sounds of the hospital falling away as they walked.
As they exited the building and stepped into the brisk afternoon air, a sleek black car awaited them, the driver standing by the door. Irina gestured for him to enter first. He climbed in, the leather interior unfamiliar and almost too pristine, the scent of polish sharp in his nose.
"Muggle car?" He questions as he ran his finger along the leather seat, watching as the driver closed the door behind Irina.
"You'll soon find that this family is not confided to just the wizarding world," She commented at she fixed her coat. "We don't believe in discriminating to the point of not socializing. We may be better than them, but we're smart enough to use them in our game."
Severus raised an eyebrow, letting her words sink in as the car pulled away from the hospital, gliding through the streets with a smooth, practiced ease. "So…you just pretend to get along with them? Use them whenever it suits you?"
Irina turned her sharp gaze on him, her lips curling in a hint of a smile. "Exactly. In our world, Severus, power comes from influence, and influence requires allies—even those who can't wield a wand. They may not understand magic, but they control the roads we drive on, the money we handle, the information that flows in and out of society. Underestimating them would be foolish."
The car sped through the bustling streets, and Severus stared out the window, feeling the weight of his decision settle over him. He couldn't deny the allure of this new world she described, a world where he wouldn't be small, or powerless, or constantly overlooked. A world where his bloodline—his name—carried meaning.
"Where are we going?" he finally asked, turning his gaze back to her.
Irina's eyes sparkled with a hint of mystery. "Normally, I'd wait until my children are a bit older—more mature—before revealing certain... truths." She paused, glancing at him with a knowing smile. "But I suspect you'll be a favorite, just like your mother was."
Severus felt a jolt at her words, both flattered and unsettled. He hadn't known his mother to have any favor in her family, and now here he was, being spoken of in terms he never thought possible. "A favorite?" he murmured, skeptical.
Irina's smirk grew. "Yes. You're more like her than you realize. And I see in you the same fire, the same determination. You're already proving your strength, simply by being here."
They rode on in silence until Irina leaned over, patting his cheek gently. Severus felt a ripple of anticipation, mixed with a chill of unease, as he realized he was about to step into a world filled with secrets he could hardly begin to imagine.
"You still didn't answer my question," he pressed, his tone challenging.
She chuckled, giving his cheek a final pat before leaning back. "Point Amari," she said, her gaze drifting out the window, a polished nail tapping thoughtfully against her lips.
"Point Amari?" he repeated, confusion creasing his brow.
"Yes," she replied with a smirk. "It's our family's main transport hub. Every type of travel, both magical and Muggle, converges there. You'll find it's... a resourceful place."
Severus leaned back, processing her words, but questions bubbled up faster than he could quiet them. "So... it's like a hidden station?"
Irina's eyes twinkled. "Hidden to most, yes. Point Amari is a closely-guarded secret, built over centuries for the Malkovs. There's no port, path, or line beyond our reach."
The car pulled up to a gated entrance, shrouded by ivy and guarded by two statuesque figures clad in dark uniforms. At a nod from Irina, the gates swung open, revealing a winding, tree-lined drive that led to an imposing structure just visible in the distance.
Irina watched him carefully as the car rolled to a stop inside the hangar, her voice quiet but firm. "Once inside, we'll use a Portkey to reach our main manor in Russia."
Severus couldn't help but stare as they stepped out, taking in the rows of gleaming planes, jets, and luxury cars of every model and brand. He'd never seen such wealth up close, much less this casually displayed.
"What exactly is all this?" he asked, still trying to process the sheer scope of the collection.
"Resources," Irina replied smoothly, gesturing for him to follow her toward a sleek, silver orb resting on a pedestal. "Our family has always valued... preparation. In our world, Severus, survival isn't about brute force; it's about access, alliances, and understanding your enemy."
She placed a hand on the orb, her gaze expectant. "Ready?"
He hesitated for just a second before placing his hand beside hers. The room spun around them as he was whisked away, feeling a strange pull through his core. When they landed, Severus stumbled slightly, catching his breath as he took in his surroundings.
They stood in front of a sprawling manor set against a stark, snowy landscape, its tall, dark towers reaching ominously into the gray sky.
Severus steadied himself, eyes wide as he took in the imposing structure before him. The manor loomed against a backdrop of vast, snow-covered fields, the dark stone of its walls almost disappearing into the shadowed hills beyond. Icy winds cut across his face, sharp and unforgiving, as if the land itself was testing him, gauging his worth.
A strange mix of awe and dread coiled in his stomach. This wasn't just a home; it was a fortress, cold and impenetrable, a stark contrast to anything he'd ever known. It felt both thrilling and terrifying—like he was stepping into a storybook he'd only ever heard whispered about in shadows and secrets.
And yet, as he stared up at the iron-wrought gates and the darkened windows, a strange comfort washed over him. For the first time, he felt like he was on the edge of something larger than himself, part of a world that promised power, protection, and belonging—if he was willing to embrace it.
Irina's voice broke through his thoughts. "The rest of the family hasn't arrived yet," she said, a faint note of satisfaction in her tone. "That gives us time to get you... properly cleaned and dressed."
Severus blinked, feeling a sudden self-consciousness as he looked down at his worn clothes, faded and frayed around the edges. There was a chill in her words, as though his current appearance was somehow an offense to the grandness of the place.
He followed Irina up the stone steps, her heels clicking crisply against the polished stone, every echo a reminder of how foreign this world was to him. Inside, the manor was just as vast as he'd imagined: vaulted ceilings, walls draped with rich tapestries, and portraits whose painted eyes seemed to track his every movement. The air smelled of old wood, books, and a hint of something floral and refined.
A servant in a black-and-white uniform appeared as if summoned by thought alone, bowing before Irina and then glancing curiously at Severus.
"Prepare the heir suite," Irina commanded, her voice smooth but unyielding. "And have appropriate attire sent up immediately. I expect nothing short of perfection."
The servant hesitated, glancing at another nearby maid, before clearing his throat. "Madam, Heir Damon is currently occupying the heir suite."
Irina paused, allowing her coat to slip into the waiting hands of the maid, then turned, her gaze sharpened on the servant. "And? I told you to prepare it. Move Damon's belongings elsewhere."
The servant, looking increasingly uneasy, dared a glance at the maid, who subtly shook her head as if to warn him. He swallowed and stepped forward, voice shaking slightly. "But, Madam… Damon is the official heir. Why should we—"
Irina cut him off, her voice ringing through the hall, colder than the Russian winter outside. "Damon was only heir because we didn't have another." She turned her gaze on the servant, her expression laced with both irritation and warning. "Do I make myself clear?"
The servant seemed to pale, giving a tight nod. "Yes, Madam." He glanced back at Severus, his eyes widening slightly as if to take in the reality of the young man standing by her side before he hurried off to make the arrangements.
Irina turned to Severus, her expression softening, though a spark of authority still lingered in her eyes. "Come," she said, gesturing for him to follow her. They walked deeper into the grand hall, the echo of their footsteps filling the space. Severus followed in silence, his mind reeling with questions about the 'heir' he'd just displaced and the family dynamics he'd unknowingly stumbled into.
As they made their way through the sprawling corridors, he couldn't help but feel the weight of expectation settling over him. It was as though the very walls whispered secrets, stories, and warnings about this family and its legacy.
He trailed Irina into a sprawling office, where floor-to-ceiling bookshelves lined the walls, and a maid was quietly dusting the tomes. Irina's entrance broke the silence, her voice sharp and commanding. "Send for Lord Bennet. Inform him to prepare for heir training."
The maid nodded swiftly, abandoning her work to rush from the room.
"Who the hell is 'Lord Bennet'?" Severus muttered, eyes narrowing at the maid's retreating figure. Before he could fully process his question, a sharp sting ignited across his cheek, making him wince. He looked at Irina, his hand instinctively brushing his face. "What was that for?"
Irina arched an eyebrow, her gaze steady and unimpressed. "A reminder to show respect," she replied, her voice measured but firm. "Lord Bennet is a skilled advisor, with knowledge and resources that will ensure your transition into this family is... smooth. He deserves your respect as he teaches you the intricacies of our legacy. I expect your attitude to reflect that."
Severus clenched his jaw, irritation flaring but tempered by the awareness of just how powerful his grandmother was. Still, the idea of having "heir training" from a complete stranger was unsettling, as was the sudden sting reminding him that defiance might be costly here.
Irina's expression softened slightly as if sensing his hesitation. "This isn't Hogwarts, Severus. The lessons you'll learn here won't be about potions or spells, but survival and power." She gestured toward an oversized chair near the hearth, inviting him to sit. "Now, before we begin, tell me—what has your mother told you about our family?"
He hesitated, taking a seat, unsure whether he wanted to reveal his lack of knowledge. All he knew was what little his mother had shared, scraps of stories told late at night, hints of an old and powerful lineage. But this world of luxury, authority, and endless hierarchy was nothing like the tales she'd told.
"Rich assholes to avoid at all costs," Severus replied, his voice dripping with sarcasm. He leaned back in the chair, crossing his arms defiantly, hoping the bravado would mask the nervousness creeping in.
Irina's lips curled into a slight smile, a mix of amusement and appreciation for his bluntness. "Well, that is certainly one way to view us," she said, her tone light yet serious. "But let me assure you, we are so much more than that. Our wealth allows us to wield influence, and that influence has protected our family for generations."
"Protected?" he echoed, skepticism lacing his words. "You mean manipulated."
Her expression shifted, a flicker of something deeper crossing her features before she composed herself again. "Every family has its shadows, Severus. What matters is how you choose to navigate them. Knowledge is power, and ignorance can be dangerous."
"Is that why you want me trained?" he shot back, unable to keep the defiance from his voice. "So I can learn to play your games?"
"Precisely," she replied, her gaze steady. "This isn't just about you fitting in, Severus. It's about you becoming a key player in a world where ignorance can lead to disaster. You're more than just my grandson; you are the embodiment of our bloodline. You're my heir, my true heir."
He shifted uncomfortably in his seat, a mix of pride and anxiety surging within him. "Why me?" he asked, twisting the tattered edge of his shirt between his fingers.
"Eileen was my firstborn. Regardless of her gender, she was my heir," she explained, smoothing down her skirt with a practiced grace. "When she left, we had no heir. So the title was given to your cousin, Damon. I never believed he was ready, but we had no choice."
He watched as she reached for a glass that filled automatically with a bronze liquid, the sight almost mesmerizing. "When I found you, I found a piece of my dear daughter still alive and real," she continued, her voice softening slightly. "I care not for what that spoiled Damon thinks; you are this family's true heir."
The weight of her words hung heavily in the air, and he felt a flicker of something—hope? Ambition? It was foreign territory for him, and he wasn't sure how to navigate it. "But what if I don't want it? What if I can't live up to that?"
Irina leaned forward, her eyes piercing. "That's the beauty of it, Severus. You don't have to live up to anyone else's expectations. You must forge your own path. Our family has a legacy built on strength, intelligence, and resilience. You can define what it means to be an heir in your own way. But you must be willing to embrace the power and responsibility that come with it."
He felt a strange exhilaration at the thought. The idea of shaping his destiny, of stepping out from the shadows of his past, was intoxicating. Yet, doubt still clung to him like a shadow. "And what if I fail?"
Irina straightened, her expression firm. "Failure is part of the journey, Severus. It's how you rise from it that matters. I see potential in you that I haven't seen in years. But you have to be willing to step up and seize it. We are not just a family; we are a force."
Her conviction ignited something within him, a spark of determination mingled with trepidation. As he considered the path before him, the air around him felt charged with possibility. Maybe, just maybe, he could become more than the sum of his past.