Author's Note:

Sorry y'all it's been wild (but not in a bad way, I just haven't had as much time to write as I would like!).

Warning: This one and the next are some of the darker chapters so please heed the trigger warnings here. There is no explicit sexual violence in this fic (nor will there be), however Snape does allude to people who may have perpetrated child abuse (including CSA & trafficking) in the past although no details given.

It is essential for the plot; our characters journeys and development, but I understand it can be upsetting to some readers.

THAT being said- we're moving things forward and there's a light at the end of the tunnel. Hopefully. Could be an oncoming train, I haven't decided


Geraldine stormed back through the Ministry dungeon swishing her wand and dramatically launching open the door to Snape's cell moments before she walked through it.

Jeremiah turned around in his chair before standing to greet her, his arm outstretched to shake her hand. "I don't believe we've met, I'm Jeremiah Dawson, I'm here as an advocate for Professor Snape."

She gave him an unimpressed look and pursed her lips, ignoring his hand. "Not sure what good it'll do, but I'll keep this brief."

Snape gave a small sneer but kept his mouth shut.

"I've just come from the boy's bedside where a paternity test was negative. So now might be a good time to rethink your story, Snape. Since you're not his father, I'd like to know how the hell you came to have custody of the boy and why."

"I beg your pardon?" Snape seethed, anger rising in his chest. "This is absolute nonsense—I've done the paternity potion on several occasions, and Soren is without a doubt my child."

"I watched the Healer perform the test in front of my eyes. That boy is not your son. You have admitted to having him in your custody on the day he went missing and subsequently was beaten and cursed, and now I want an explanation."

Snape stood up, "I demand another test. Clearly your paternity potion is faulty or someone has tampered with the samples. I demand to be there when you repeat it to ensure the sample is mine and that it has been done correctly."

A haughty laugh escaped from Geraldine as she leaned forward refusing to be intimidated by him. "You're in no position to be making demands. Chain of custody was followed precisely, and the potion is official Ministry stock. So quit the bullshit and start telling the truth."

Rage had been simmering beneath the surface for days now, and just as Snape was ready to erupt, Jeremiah put his hand on the man's arm. "Sit down, Severus, we'll work through it."

"If you'd like to amend your statement, this is your opportunity. We'll get to the truth one way or another, but this is your last chance to help yourself."

"I've told you the truth. I have nothing new to say. Soren is my son, and I was not the one who harmed him."

With a roll of her eyes, Geraldine slammed closed her folder of parchment and made her way to the door of the cell before turning back around. "You're only making this more difficult for yourself, but that's fine for me. I look forward to burying you in your own lies."

She made her exit, closing the door behind her with a satisfied smirk.

Once they were alone again in the cell, Jeremiah turned to Snape. "Well, she's lovely."

Snape ran his hands nervously through his hair, exhaling his frustration audibly.

"I swear to you, Soren is my son. I've run the paternity test dozens of times. That woman—she's done something, tampered with the sample. None of this makes any sense."

Deep lines stood out on Snape's face, and for the first time he truly worried that maybe he wouldn't get a fair investigation and they'd find a way to lock him away forever. "Dammit!"

Jeremiah patted him briefly on the shoulder. "If there was an error, we'll get to the bottom of it. Trust me, Severus. I will see to it that all of the evidence is valid."

Snape could only nod, his jaw clenched tightly. "That detestable woman has it out for me, and I don't know why."

"Well, her personal feelings are irrelevant. What's important is that the investigation is done properly, and that's my job. Just stay calm and be patient."


I'm going to nail that bastard. Although she was exhausted, Geraldine got a jolt of energy just imagining him locked up in Azkaban. Of course, she had no real evidence at this point, just her own gut instincts and her loathing for Severus Snape.

Considering she'd never been to Hogwarts, and had never personally encountered the man prior to this case, her hatred of him ran surprisingly deep.

Geraldine was kind of a lone wolf at the Ministry, one of the few officials who hadn't gone to Hogwarts—a fact that made her extremely bitter and prone to feeling like an outsider.

It wasn't that she hadn't been talented enough to go, in fact, she was an extremely bright and capable witch who'd grown up in a magical family where everyone else had gone to Hogwarts for generations.

As an only child, however, her parents had refused to send her off when there were mumblings about the return of Voldemort, and after several concerning incidents involving Hogwarts students in the years prior. So instead, she had private tutors, and went away to a magical camp in Switzerland each summer, but it wasn't the same. She didn't have the friendships and even the trauma bonding that connected many of her peers.

Her best friend growing up was a girl named Adrianne. They had both squealed with excitement when they received their Hogwarts letters, but when Geraldine's parents refused to let her go, it broke her heart. Even though she was incredibly jealous, every time Adrianne came home on holiday breaks, Geraldine couldn't wait to hear all about her adventures.

They'd stay up all night, Geraldine insisting on every story, every detail. And while Adrianne was a devoted and proud Hufflepuff, she was never a particularly great student and as such got a lot of flack from the school's most hated teacher— Professor Snape.

As a teen, Geraldine had had an almost morbid fascination with the mysterious man. Adrianne would regale Geraldine with horror stories about him in Potions class or stalking through the halls at night on patrol, how he'd make students cry with his acerbic comments, or that he'd put students through cruel and prolonged detentions "for practically nothing."

She'd been aghast when Adrianne had mentioned there were rumors that he even used corporal punishment on the students in his own house (although she freely admitted no one from Slytherin had ever mentioned it, and they seemed to love the man), but as everyone knew, Slytherins were evil. And Snape loved them for it.

In her 3rd year, Snape had become Headmaster and Adrianne had even more insane stories about what he allowed to go on at Hogwarts, the cruelty, the torture, the beatings. How he'd killed the beloved Headmaster Dumbledore and then dueled with McGonnagal before finally leaving Hogwarts to join his fellow Death Eaters and Voldemort.

So while Geraldine may not have ever "known" Snape, she certainly believed she did— and she knew exactly what kind of person he was. And after meeting him, she was entirely convinced he was capable of evil.

Sure, she'd heard that he'd really been a spy and on the side of the light, but for her it was irrelevant. He'd still chosen to join the Death Eaters and the fact that he terrorized and mistreated students, refusing to protect them when he was in a position of power to do so, just made her blood boil.

This just made her more determined than ever to expose the man as the cruel, sadistic person he was. Why else would he have been hiding under a false identity all of these years?

If she could expose him, it would make her career. And maybe she'd finally gain the respect she deserved, proving that she didn't need to go to Hogwarts to make her way up the Ministry ladder.


Healer Bashir sat in her office and meticulously dictated notes as a magical quill jotted them into Soren's chart as she prepared for the conference she'd arranged to try to get some answers regarding his condition.

It didn't happen often, but for tough cases, they'd put together a panel of healers and experts in different subjects to review the patient's chart, brainstorm, and make sure they were thinking of things from all angles. More often than not, these conferences would result in some fantastic ideas, and at least she'd have a new direction to go in, time was running out.

As she looked through the chart, something about the paternity potion wasn't sitting quite right with her. Although it was hard to tell just by looking at the boy, especially since most of his face was covered in fur, she could squint her eyes and see how he might favor Severus Snape.

The thought lingered in the back of her mind, nagging her subconscious as she packed up her papers and notes and headed for the conference room. After locking her office, she paused and made a brisk detour to the wards, her doubts compelling her to run a few more tests.

After checking the lot number on the paternity potion, she selected a vial from a different batch. There was still plenty of Snape's blood left over and she only needed a drop to perform the test.

Setting out all of the potions and vials on the counter in Soren's room, she trimmed a few pieces of hair and added it into the potion. Again, nothing happened.

"You're being ridiculous," she whispered to herself, but she stared down at the boy and something in her gut just wouldn't let it go.

Two batches of potion, two negative tests— it should have been enough to convince her, but it wasn't. She reached down and ran her hands gently down the boy's head, smoothing down the fur covering his head and face as he grimaced and moaned slightly in pain.

And then it hit her—

Soren's head and body were covered in fur, not human hair. Could that be interfering with the potion?

She rummaged through the drawers looking for phlebotomy supplies and then quickly drew a small vial of Soren's blood. Pausing briefly, she added a drop to the paternity potion and held her breath and then gasped as it sizzled and turned gold!

"I knew it!" There wasn't time now to update Geraldine and her team, but even from a medical standpoint this gave her far more information than she'd had previously regarding the spell. She quickly cleaned everything up and raced out the door, silently cursing to herself as she glanced up at the clock and realized she was going to be late to her own meeting.


It was only midday, but Geraldine was running on pure fumes—she hadn't slept in days but despite her exhaustion, she was determined to get answers. After shoving a sandwich quickly into her mouth, she collected her belongings and made her way to Diagon Alley, where a team of Aurors had been attempting to gather information by meticulously going from shop to shop speaking to workers and patrons.

"What've you got?"

"A shopgirl at the Weasley's says she thinks she saw him, but there were dozens of kids that came in that day. But if it's the boy she's thinking of, he was asking for a love potion."

"A love potion? That's odd." Geraldine was skeptical but jotted it down in her notes.

"Apparently. And he was very serious about it. Got all stroppy when she offered him candy and lust lollies instead, he said he wanted a real potion, and then stormed out of the store."

"What time was that?"

"Maybe 4pm or so."

"Was he alone?"

"Seems so. She said he ran out when she asked about his parents. Didn't see any adults with him."

"We got the call from the Leaky Cauldron after 10pm. Where was he for all that time?"

"That's all we got."

They'd interviewed everyone at the Leaky Cauldron several times, but there was still a massive gap in time they couldn't account for, and no one else in Diagon Alley had any memory of a small dark haired boy wandering around on his own.

"Where was he found again? Can someone show me?" Geraldine asked.

They walked around back behind the pub, bringing the barmaid along with them. She pointed to a spot behind a few of the casks. "He was hiding behind here when I found him, poor lad. Cowering and shivering. His fur was sopping wet, he'd probably been out there for ages."

The alley behind the Leaky Cauldron was filled with a bunch of junk— boxes, crates and empty casks, a few bins overflowing with rubbish. Using her wand, Geraldine carefully began to move a few of the crates and casks, her eyes scouring the ground for any hint of what happened.

"Wait!" one of the aurors yelled, pointing to the ground. "What's that?"

Behind one of the casks, nestled against the brick wall was a wand. The wood was dark, and with all of the grime and dark brick, it had been overlooked.

Before touching it, Geraldine crouched down and reached into her robes to pull out an evidence bag, carefully levitating the wand with her own until she could put it inside the bag and seal it.

She turned to the barmaid, holding up the bag. "Do you recognize this wand?"

"Oh heavens no, it's not mine. I couldn't go a minute without it." She pulled out her wand and flashed it around.

"No one's inquired about a missing wand?"

"Not that I'm aware of. There's only a few of us who work here, they've all got their wands. Though I wouldn't be surprised if one of the punters dropped it, stumbling out too drunk for their own good."

Geraldine nodded, but in her experience truly lost wands were unusual. Most people, even drunk ones, would realize quite quickly that they were missing it and go back for it. At least the legal ones. The unregistered and stolen wands were a whole different issue.

She kicked around a few more pieces of debris on the ground, banishing pieces of plastic and paper trash as she continued to search the alley, before bending down slightly, and seeing a small pendant on the ground. Levitating it into an evidence bag as well.
"I thought you said you searched here already, Curtis," Geraldine said, irritation clear in her voice. "I've been back here for 3 minutes and we've found a wand and a piece of jewelry. Are you visually impaired or just lazy? This is unacceptable."

The young auror blushed furiously at the admonition, he'd only been on the job for about six months but was well-liked and hard-working. "Sorry ma'am, I should have been more thorough."
"Yes, you should have. Consider this a verbal warning. Next time you fail to do your job properly, it's going in your file."
Everyone fell into an awkward silence as Geraldine placed the pendant in another bag, showing it once more to the barmaid.

"Recognize this?"

"No. But I've caught youngsters fooling around back here in the past."

"Really?" Geraldine scrunched up her face in disgust. Between the smell of stale beer and piss, along with the overflowing rubbish bins and its proximity to Knockturn Alley, there had to be far better places for amorous teenagers to hook-up than this particular spot. As someone who had never had a boyfriend, or a girlfriend for that matter, the whole idea of making out in a dirty alley was appalling to her. Didn't they have better things to do with their time?

"It's probably not related, but we'll take it just in case." Geraldine put the evidence bag in her robes before turning to her team.

"Continue to look around. Go through this alley meticulously and bag anything and everything that you think might be evidence. Pieces of paper with writing on it, anything that looks out of place. I'll take these two items back to the Ministry to see if we can get more information from this wand." She gave Curtis one last withering look. "And try not to miss anything this time."

She silently prayed this wand would be all the evidence she needed, although black market and unregistered wands could make tracking it quite challenging, it wasn't impossible. As much as she loathed Severus Snape, the man wasn't an idiot. She imagined if he was going to hex a child so cruelly he probably wasn't stupid enough to do it with his own wand, which was already with the Ministry having forensics run on it.

Not wanting to waste a single second more, Geraldine apparated immediately back to the Ministry.


After speaking with Snape, Jeremiah Dawson was wholly convinced that the man was telling the truth. So now it was time to work his connections, his goal being to at least get him out of lock-up until he was exonerated or officially arrested.
Jeremiah had been officially retired from the Ministry for a few years, but after decades of loyal service and a reputation for being extremely ethical, he still had a lot of clout and respect and he had been more than happy to help when McGonnagall reached out to him. He'd served a vital role in supporting the Order during both wars, and although he hadn't ever spent time with Severus Snape prior to today, he was well-aware of the man and the sacrifices he'd made to ensure the end of Voldemort.

After asking around a bit, he was starting to get a better picture of Geraldine Fischer. She was well after his time, so he'd never worked with her, but was surprised to find out she was one of few Ministry officials who hadn't gone to Hogwarts. As a result, few people knew much about her.

From what he could gather, she had a fair reputation as an investigator, and was known for being a real pitbull with ambition in spades and a clear determination to work her way up through the Ministry despite having a bit of a chip on her shoulder. She didn't appear to have any real friends or mentors, and didn't seem to socialize with anyone outside of work.

It was clear she was a fierce advocate for children, and had a strong code of ethics, but she wasn't a great team player and could be difficult to work with. But she worked hard & had been promoted quickly in her few years at the Ministry.

Jeremiah wanted to be careful not to overstep, but after calling in a few favors and speaking with Kingsley, who was one of the more loved and respected Ministers of Magic they'd had in a long time, he was certain he'd be able to make some progress with the Minister of Magical Children. He was risking his own reputation if he was wrong about Snape, but at least for the moment, he had no reason to doubt the man.


Snape languished in his cell for several more hours after Jeremiah left, feeling despondent that the evidence that should have helped him, was just complicating things further. He knew Soren was his child. He had to be.

But despite that, the entire situation was messing with his head. With nothing else to do, his mind was conjuring absurd situations that had him wavering on what he truly believed.

Had Harry somehow tampered with the paternity potion to force him to take Soren?No, he'd never be bright enough to do that, he was mediocre with potions at best.He smirked to himself briefly at the thought. Besides, what would be the point of that? Not to mention, Snape had broken that potion down into every component and manipulated it a thousand ways, and it had consistently shown him to be Soren's father.

Maybe Potter set me up, created this entire elaborate plan just to destroy me. For revenge.

Snape rolled his eyes at the thought. Potter might be annoying and reckless, but he didn't have a vengeful bone in his body. Shockingly.

The mental gymnastics of trying to make sense of it all was exhausting him and Snape attempted to clear his mind by running through a mental inventory of his potions' store in alphabetical order.

Minutes or maybe hours went by deep in thought before another plate of slop arrived through the slit in the door. Snape looked up briefly and recoiled in disgust. He'd starve to death before he'd touch a drop of it. He also wouldn't put it past anyone here to poison him. Especially Geraldine.You're becoming paranoid, get it together.

Maybe she wouldn't poison him, but she clearly had it out for him. What was her deal anyway? He could respect that she took her job seriously, but it was like she had a personal vendetta against him and as far as he knew, he'd never met her before or ever had her as a student.

Suddenly the door flew open and one of the guards stood in the door with his arms crossed, looking annoyed. "Get up. You can go."

Snape stood, but looked confused. "Did you useless fools finally realize I had nothing to do with this?"

Jeremiah appeared through the door behind him. "It's temporary, Severus, but I've secured your release. The investigation is still ongoing, and there are still several conditions to your release, but as long as you abide by them, you can go home pending official charges."

"Thank you." He couldn't wait to get out of there, but he moved with his usual precision, refusing to look as impatient as he felt.

"The Ministry will keep your wand until you've been charged or cleared. You will also have a tracker on you at all times, and you're not to be anywhere within 500m of Soren or St. Mungo's."

"I need to see my son," Snape argued. "This is ridiculous!"

"I'm sorry, Severus, this was the best I could do. Hopefully this will all be resolved shortly. When it is, you'll see Soren at the first opportunity."

Jeremiah had advocated hard to get a visit for Snape, even a supervised visit to see Soren, but with the severity of the crimes he was being accused of and Soren's critical condition, absolutely no one wanted to take the risk, and he couldn't blame them.

Snape was frustrated, but swept out of the cell, looking down at his striped prison clothes with disdain.

After signing and agreeing on the conditions of his release, Snape looked at Jeremiah. "Now what?"

"Go home. Get comfortable. Until this is resolved, I'd suggest you stay close to home. I'll be in touch with you shortly. I also believe Minerva was hoping to see you." Jeremiah reached into his pocket, presenting a card. "My details are here if you need to reach me by floo or owl."

Snape tore off a piece of parchment and scribbled some words on it and handed it to Jeremiah. "Here are mine. If you could pass them onto Minerva as well."

"Of course." Jeremiah gave him a smile and a reassuring pat on the shoulder before escorting Snape to an apparition point.


Snape had never been so happy to be back at the Manor, and he breathed a huge sigh of relief as he entered his parlor.

Tinny immediately appeared, sobbing tears of joy and jumping up and down. "Yous back! Yous is alive! I was so worried I didn't know what to do!"

"I'm fine, Tinny." But he was touched. He wasn't one who usually got sentimental about House Elves, but Tinny had been his constant (and only) companion for many years and even if he didn't acknowledge it, he cared for the creature.

"You looks hungry! Tinny will make you food!" The house elf smiled and clapped before rushing immediately to the elves' kitchen to get started, thrilled to be back in service.

When Snape got to his bedroom, he locked and warded the doors behind him before letting out a primal growl and ripping his prison uniform to bits. It would have been far more satisfying to have slashed at them with a wand, but there was something cathartic about tearing the worn cloth with his bare hands and tossing them angrily into the fireplace where he managed an impressive wandlessincendio.

For several minutes, Snape stood naked in front of the flames and watched every stitch of fabric burn to ashes, shivering slightly as the fire died out before making his way to the washroom.

Despite his reputation for greasy hair— a result of the potions fumes he stood over for hours a day—Snape was generally fastidious about his hygiene. As a child he'd been mocked mercilessly for being dirty and smelly, having to go to primary school in stained and filthy clothes because there was no hot water or even a bathroom in the dilapidated terrace-house he grew up in. When he finally got to Hogwarts, he luxuriated in the hot showers, even though a few of the prefects had to take him aside to teach him some of the basic elements of self-care his parents had never bothered with.

So now, as an adult, he took great pride in being clean. He turned the tap until the water was so scorching it was painful, then scrubbed every inch of his body mercilessly with a loofah and soap, desperate to rid himself of everything he'd been through in the last few days.

Yet unsurprisingly, no matter how hard he scrubbed or how long he stood under the scalding water, he couldn't wash away the shame and vulnerability that permeated deep into his pores.

Only after realizing his skin was excoriated in places to the point of bleeding did he reluctantly reach up and turn off the shower, wandlessly drying himself and wrapping himself in a dressing gown.

He stared in the mirror, running his hands over the thick, dark stubble on his face that made him look far more like his own father than he'd ever care to admit.

After shaving and brushing his teeth, he felt slightly better, but it wasn't until he finally put his clothes back on that he felt like himself again. Layer by meticulous layer he replaced his armor, and by the time he'd done up the last buttons of his frock coat, he breathed with relief. Warm. Covered. Protected.

He returned to his parlor and immediately poured himself a drink, closing his eyes and savoring the peace and security he'd been without for days.

Before he'd had a second sip, Minerva poked her head through the floo. "Severus?"

"I'm here. Come through." He'd been expecting her, having sent a note through prior.

She popped out and dusted herself off briefly before walking toward him and throwing her arms around him. "Oh Severus. It's so good to see you!"

Snape was caught a bit off guard by the uncharacteristic display of affection, but he withstood it stoically until she let go. "I'm having some fire whiskey, can I tempt you to join me?"

"You don't have to tempt me, I'm always up for a tipple," she said, her eyes glinting. "Although I dare say you need it far more than I do at the moment."

Snape gave her a generous pour and handed it to her as she settled onto the couch.

"To old friends." Minerva lifted her glass, and Snape did the same, giving her a nod as he relaxed into his favorite armchair.

After a long sip, Snape set down his glass. "I know I owe you far more of an explanation, but forgive me if I am incapable of that this evening."

"You don't owe me anything, Severus. Although I can't believe you let me mourn you for all of these years. When I think about the many nights I cried thinking that your life ended before you ever got to enjoy it. I never thought I'd see you again, I'm just glad you're alive. And I'm sorry that you're in all of this mess with the Ministry, you don't deserve this."

Snape let out a small breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. "I'm perfectly fine, it's Soren I'm concerned about. They won't give me any information about him, and I know he's there alone, and…"

He had to pause before his emotions bubbled up faster than he could suppress them. Just imagining Soren suffering alone in the hospital made him want to sob. But he cleared his throat and swallowed the gigantic lump of feelings, washing it down with another gulp of whiskey.

"He's in good hands, Severus. This will all be over soon and you'll have him back. I'm certain of it. Jeremiah has been working with Kingsley, they know you."

"When this is over, those ministry fools will pay for every minute they've kept me from my son. This entire investigation is a farce."

A small smile cracked across Minerva's face. "I never thought I'd see the day that Severus Snape had a child, although I always thought you'd make an excellent father. You were always such a fierce protector of the students."

Snape scoffed as he swirled the liquid in his glass. "Brilliant. Clearly. Didn't even have the boy for two months and he's cursed and in a coma at St. Mungo's."

"Oh stop it," Minerva said, putting on her sternest voice. "What happened to him is not your fault— it's no reflection of you as a father."

"He ran away, Minerva. Through the floo. Because of me—because he loathes me."

"He's a young child, Severus, one whose entire life changed quickly. He made an impulsive decision. Surely you've been around enough children in your life to know that even the brilliant ones will make silly decisions that put their lives at risk. Merlin knows we've had to rescue them often enough."

"Mmmm," Snape hummed in agreement. Even if he didn't fully believe her, he was in no mood to argue with the woman, particularly since he knew she wouldn't indulge his self-pity for another minute.

"I can't wait to meet the lad, and I'm warning you now I plan to spoil him absolutely rotten," Minerva said, attempting to add some levity. "Because if I know you, you certainly won't do it."

Snape raised his eyebrow disapprovingly. "There's absolutely nothing more insufferable than a spoiled child, Minerva. So no, I do not spoil him, and neither will you."

"Pish posh, I most certainly will. He's going to come visit his Granny Minnie and I'll feed him nothing but biscuits and chocolate. He'll have full run of Hogwarts. I'll get him a little broom and a red and gold jersey—it's never too early to start training Gryffindor's next quidditch captain."

"You've lost your mind if you think I'd let you anywhere near him under those conditions." Snape kept his face stern, but he was enjoying her company, it was like no time had passed. Back at Hogwarts they'd often stay up late chatting over an open bottle of whiskey, commiserating over their most annoying students (and fellow staff).

After another generous sip, Snape continued. "Besides, Soren is as Slytherin as they come. And he's not going to be a quidditch player because I refuse to allow him anywhere near a broom until he comes of age. Not to mention, if he knows what's good for him, he'll be putting his time to good use studying rather than playing silly little games."

Minerva let out a hearty laugh. "Oh how I've missed you, Severus. I thought coming back from death might have lightened your mood a little, but I see you're just as rigid as you've always been." She smiled at him and her eyes twinkled. "Although youwillmake up for all the torture you've put me through."

"Fair."

"Good, then it's settled. Soren will spend summers with me at Hogwarts."

"Perhaps you should withhold such an offer until you meet him. He's a handful—I'm quite certain you'll want to return him by supper time," Snape said drolly.

"Nonsense! If he's anything like you as a boy, I'm sure I'll adore him. You were always so sensitive and thoughtful, studious and mature beyond your years."

Snape blushed slightly, embarrassed to remember that she'd known him as that broken little boy, thrilled to be at Hogwarts, free from the trauma of his home life, nothing but a world of magic and possibilities in front of him.

No one ever used words like "sensitive" and "thoughtful" to describe Snape, and it made him cringe. The most pathetic part was that he had been those things when he'd first arrived, but in another one of life's many disappointments, Hogwarts became nearly as full of torment as his own home had been. The bullying he endured was so severe that by the time he graduated, he was a shell of himself, angry, vindictive, and devoid of empathy. The kind, sweet, sensitive boy who stepped off the train the first day had been snuffed out years ago.

When he first joined the staff at Hogwarts, he still blamed Minerva for letting her Gryffindor boys get away with all of the bullying— for treating that swashbuckling pack of Mauraders as her golden boys, free from punishment or scrutiny no matter how cruel or dangerous their antics were.

But once they became colleagues, Snape's heart thawed to her. It was only after he became a Head of House himself that he truly understood just how hard it was to keep tabs on one student, much less 200. Over time, they'd grown closer and little by little he'd revealed some of what he'd been through, and she was genuinely remorseful for not doing more to stop it.

It was why Snape had a zero tolerance policy for bullying within his own house, and he'd punish anyone who did so severely. None of his Slytherins would dare try to bully or harass another student in his house, and if they were caught or reported for bullying by anyone outside of his house, he'd punish them himself regardless of what consequences had been meted out by others.

"Tell me more about your boy." Minerva said gently, seeing that Snape was deep in thought.

He cleared his throat and sat up, thinking carefully before he spoke, his heart aching deep in his chest as memories flooded through him.

"He's bold. Fearless. Remarkably resilient for someone so young. And far more confident than I ever was at his age despite his lamentable circumstances." He paused for a moment, taking a sip of his drink in an effort to keep his voice from revealing too much emotion. "He's outgoing and warm. Effortlessly joyful…and incredibly prone to mischief."

"Sounds like a Gryffindor to me!" Minerva said with excitement, giving Snape a cheeky wink.

Snape gave her a dangerous look. "Never." He took another sip of his drink before he continued.

"When he first arrived, he was using a wand to casually cast half a dozen spells up in his room each night. He nearly burned down an entire wing of the manor when he lost control of a incendio spell. At 7, mind you."

Minerva gasped. "Severus, you're joking! How could you possibly give a child that young a wand! Have you lost your mind?"

"Of course not, I'd never let a child that age have a wand. The wand was his mothers, and he was hiding it from me. And clearly my ability to suss out mischief was beyond rusty because I didn't even catch him for weeks. But when I did, I made sure he learned his lesson."

Minerva threw back the rest of her whiskey and laughed. "Oh dear me. Seems like you've met your match, Severus. I must say that's quite an impressive spell for a 7 year-old. Although his father is one of the greatest wizards I've ever known, so I can't say I'm the least bit surprised he has natural talent. With you there to guide him, I'm sure he'll do amazing things."

"Perhaps. If he survives childhood, which I'm not sure he will at this rate." Snape had meant it as a snarky little comment amongst the banter, but then the reality of his current situation slammed him back to earth.

The room fell into an awkward silence. "Another glass?" Snape said, eyeing their dwindling tumblers.

Minerva looked up cheekily. "I suppose I'll just have a wee bit more, since you're already up," She shook her empty glass and Snape plucked it out of her hands, refilling both of their glasses generously.

"He's going to be alright, Severus, please try not to worry too much." Minerva could see Snape was emotional, his eyes were filled with worry and a deep sadness that was out of place for a man who was usually so stoic. "Jeremiah is working hard to get things squared away with the Ministry. Kingsley is aware, and while he can't interfere directly with the investigation, he's put some heat on them to make sure everything is by the book. They'll get to the truth. Have faith."

Snape nodded. "Thank you."

"Is there anything else I can do for you?" She leaned forward on the couch, her hand just out of reach from him in his chair. "You can ask me for anything, you know."

"No, you've done more than enough, Minerva. After everything I've put you through, it's far more than I deserve."

"Nonsense, Severus. I know you. I know your heart. And I also know that there's a reason for everything you do…I don't blame you for wanting a peaceful life for yourself after everything you've been through. I just hope you know you were missed and grieved deeply. Not a day went by that I didn't think of you."

Her words of understanding were almost too much for him to take and the emotions were rising in his chest again. "You know, I'd actually feel remarkably better if you berated me and told me what a selfish bastard I am."

"Oh, I know. I figured it would be far more torturous to give you generous helping of emotional blackmail," she said with a mischievous glint in her eye.

"You know me too well."

"Aye, that I do."

They finished the rest of their glasses in relative silence, Snape knowing that he didn't have to speak for her to understand how he was feeling. And there was something comforting about her presence there, something familiar he hadn't felt in a long time.Home.

This was what had been missing all those years and as much as he'd convinced himself he didn't need other people, it wasn't true. He desperately wanted and needed to have Soren back, imagining how wonderful it would be to take him to Hogwarts, even let Minerva spoil him a bit (although not too much). It was almost too painful to think about it.And Marie.He realized the second he'd imagined his perfect life flashing in pictures before he could stop it, she was there too.Stop it. She's gone. She hates you and rightfully so. You'll never deserve her.

Minerva set her empty glass on the table, snapping him out of his fantasy. "It's getting late, Severus, I should get back to Hogwarts. You know how it is, if I'm away for too long the entire place will fall to shambles."

"Of course."

"You know, you're always welcome back. I'm in desperate need of a Deputy Head who could bring some discipline, I swear the students get more unmanageable every year. I'm too old for all this."

"Or perhaps you're just getting too soft. You always did let your Gryffindors get away with murder. Quite literally."

"I am not getting soft, Severus! Nor have I ever been. That said, there's always a place for you there if you change your mind. Besides, I'm thinking of retiring soon. You could be Headmaster in a few years."

"Yes, that worked out quite well for me the last time." He raised an incredulous eyebrow. "I'd rather have Cornish pixies pick out my eyeballs. I think I've suffered enough for one life-time, thank you. But if I find myself in need of further torture, I'll let you know."

"Well, I hope you'll at least come and visit me sometime. Or am I just to pretend you're dead again after this mess with the Ministry is finished?"

There was the smallest hint of pain in her voice, even though she passed it off as a joke.

"We'll see. But only if you let me drink your good whiskey and catch me up on all of the gossip."

"It looks like you can afford the good whiskey on your own now, besides, you owe me." She said as she stood and smoothed down her robes. "So you'd better not show up empty handed! You know I like a good single malt, but a 15 year aged Elven made scotch wouldn't be remiss. You know, given what you've put me through."

When Snape got to his feet, she embraced him once more, this time not allowing him to pull out of it even though she could feel his body go rigid beneath her. "It's going to be alright, Severus. Everything will be sorted soon and life will go on again."

"Perhaps."

"Don't hesitate to call if you need anything else. I'm here for you." She gripped his hand tightly and gave it a squeeze.

"Thank you." He reached up to get the floo powder off the mantle and offered her the bowl. "Goodnight, Minerva."

"Goodnight."

As she disappeared into the flames, Snape contemplated topping up his glass for a second time. He knew it was unwise— he was already feeling the alcohol go to his head after not having eaten in nearly two days, but he was craving something to dull his emotions.

He stood at the bookshelf in the parlor, the decanter in his hand when he heard the floo come roaring back.

"Forget something?" Glancing briefly over his shoulder, expecting to see Minerva, he let out a perturbed sigh.

With a loud clink, Snape set his empty glass on the shelf with annoyance. "Oh for Merlin's sake Potter, how many times do I have to tell you not to come bursting through my floo uninvited! I'm starting to think there must be a medical explanation for your complete inability to follow instructions."

"Sorry, sir," Harry breathed heavily, clearly having rushed there. "I just got some new information about Soren—I thought you'd want to know straight away."

Snape let out a sigh, filled his glass and sat down, motioning reluctantly, for Harry to take a seat on the couch. "Just so we're clear, Potter, if you come through my floo one more time without prior permission, I will not only hex you within an inch of your life, I will file a formal complaint with the Ministry and get a restraining order."

"Yes, sir. I understand." Harry at least had the decency to look slightly ashamed.

"Well? What is it?"

"They held a conference today, a bunch of healers and curse-breakers and some other specialists from the UK and Europe to discuss Soren's case. Healer Bashir is managing all of Soren's medical care, by the way, do you know her?"

"Yes. We've worked together in the past, she's quite competent." Not effusive words of praise by most standards, but for Snape it was tantamount to calling her a genius. He'd seen her do some very impressive work, and he was glad to know she was overseeing Soren's care.

"Anyway. She brought everyone together to try and figure out what's going on. I'm getting this information second-hand, but it sounds like what happened is someone tried to turn Soren into a dog, or like, a half-dog, half-boy. They're not sure how, but somehow when this spell was cast, followed by aCruciatus, or maybe it was the other way around, I don't know- it caused some weird things to happen."

Snape's face blanched and his blood ran cold. He'd known Soren had been cursed, and that someone had used aCruciatusto torture him, but turning him into a dog? Oh, he'd seen that curse before. He knewexactlywhat kind of people used it and it made him physically sick.Those sick bastards.

"Sir? Are you OK?" Harry could tell something had changed on Snape's face.

"Just get to it, Potter. Finish what you were saying."

"Oh, um, well the problem is that the combination of curses is like, affecting each other. Or rather, anytime Soren is around magic, even small things like running diagnostic or healing spells, theCruciatusis amplified, and he keeps feeling pain. They have him sedated and on pain meds, but he's needing more of them more often, and now they are worried he's going to have organ dysfunction if they keep it up, but if they don't he screams in agony."

Snape was listening to the words, his eyes glazing over as the rage inside of him burned white hot, making him feel like caustic acid was flowing through his veins. "Do they have a plan to fix him, Potter, or did you just come here to remind me of just how badly he's suffering?"

Harry's mouth went slack, unsure of how to respond. "Sorry, sir, I just thought you'd want to know."

"Well, now I know. You can leave."

Harry was confused. He knew Snape wouldn't be pleased to hear the details, but the man had been asking nonstop to know anything about Soren and what was going on. It had to be better for him to know rather than not know, right?

"I think they're working on something, a different kind of potion to help him not feel the pain. And I think the curse-breakers have narrowed down some potential counter curses, they just want to make sure his pain is well-controlled before they start trying them." Harry hoped that sounded optimistic but he was grasping at straws. "He's still completely intolerant of magic and they are worried it could extinguish his magical core all together."

Snape closed his eyes and tried to breathe through his anger and frustration. "Go home, Potter."

"Sorry, I really thought you'd want to know if I heard anything. If I hear anything else, would you prefer that I not tell you?"

"I'd tell you to use your best judgment, Potter, but that would be like asking a goldfish to climb a tree."

Harry's face fell slightly and Snape let out a heavy sigh, rubbing his hand across his forehead as he did his best to remove the edge in his voice. He swigged at his glass and closed his eyes before continuing.

"Yes, of course you should tell me, Potter. And it's not your job to manage my emotions as a result. Now go home, or do I need to stun you and take you there myself?"

A small smile cracked in the corner of Harry's lips. "Doesn't the Ministry have your wand, sir?"

"Honestly Potter, I hardly need a wand to render you helpless and throw you through the floo. I know wandless magic has never been your strong suit, but I assure you I'm more than capable of doing just that. Underestimate me at your peril."

With a small chuckle, Harry put his hands up. "I'd never underestimate you, sir—with or without a wand. Message received, I'm off. I need to get home to Ginny anyway."

As Harry walked toward the floo, he snatched a bit of floo powder from the bowl on the mantle without a second thought.

"By all means, Potter, help yourself to my floo powder. My house is now your house it appears" Snape said sarcastically.

"My bad," Harry said sheepishly.

"Your audacity is truly unmatched. The way you just come striding through the floo at any time of the day or night, I'm going to be forced to take it off the network permanently just to have a single moment of peace."

"Oh, I'll just apparate then. Pretty sure my security clearance gets me an apparition pass as well, so even your impressive wards can't keep me out, sir."

Harry gave him a wink and a cheeky smile, hoping that might lift some of the ominous energy from the room.

"The day you apparate through my wards without invitation will be your last, Potter. So if you'd like to be around long-enough to see that child of yours be born and go off to Hogwarts, you'll keep that in mind."

"Yes, sir," he smiled. "The floo is far more convenient anyway."

"Out, Potter." Snape practically shoved the man into the fireplace as soon as he'd thrown the powder down.


Now that he was alone, Snape could finally process what he'd heard. He couldn't believe some maniac tried to turn his child into one of theirplay puppies.

That's what those perverts used to call them. There was a small group of particularly depraved Death Eaters who got their jollies torturing and abusing children, particularly Muggle children. They'd turn the kids into these little half-dogs and pass them around, do whatever they wanted until they grew bored of them and decided to kill them. They'd keep them locked up in cages, torturing them, beating them, making them fight each other, and of course abusing them in every other way Snape didn't want to imagine.

The first time Snape heard of this, he was livid. He had no choice but to turn a blind eye to some of the outrageous torture of adults, but the preying on children disturbed him greatly and he wouldn't allow it anywhere near him.

After Snape hexed one of them to near death, they stopped bringing theirplay puppiesto the "official" Death Eater events, but anytime Snape heard a whispering of it, he'd find the culprits and do what he could to manage it himself.

But that had been years ago, well before the Dark Lord returned. Snape ran through a mental list of all of the Death Eaters he'd known who were involved at any point withplay puppies. Almost all of them were dead or locked up. He sat back in his chair, sipping his whiskey and trying to come up with someone who was still alive and free, flipping through names and faces in his mind over and over again like a mental Rolodex of shitbags.

And then it hit him. Archibald Crowe. Owner of Archibald's Apothecary in Knockturn Alley.You depraved piece of human filth, I'm going to destroy you.

He could never stand the man, although he'd occasionally had to deal with the degenerate if he needed a difficult (or forbidden) potion ingredient. He was unscrupulous, but despite his openly unethical behavior as a potioneer and vendor of all kinds of dark potions and supplies, he'd never officially been a Death Eater.

Oh, but he enjoyed their business and their company, reveling in the proximity to power without any of the risk or expectation. Snape had witnessed him enthusiastically agreeing to any request, from vile and illegal potions to procuring any manner of unusual ingredients meant for nefarious purposes. In fact, the more sadistic the request, the more gleeful it seemed to make him.

Now that he thought back on it, Archibald had been around more than a few times when Snape had encountered the Death Eaters and theirplay puppies. He hadn't given the man a second thought at the time, seeing him as a pathetic hanger-on to far more rich and powerful men, but now he wondered if he was more deeply involved in the whole thing.

Sick bastard.

Without marinating on it for a single second more, Snape bolted out of his chair and up to his study, jerking open his desk drawer to search for Soren's wand. His hand paused briefly as he hovered over the essay Marie had written for him, a pang of regret strumming his heart before he pushed it aside and snatched the wand.

He rolled the smooth wood in his hand, his mind returning to Marie and all of the trouble this wand had already caused him. It was spruce, unfortunately, hardly an ideal wood if a person wasn't matched to it, but it would have to do.

For good measure, Snape gave it a few flicks to make sure he could control it. The wand resisted, but he had enough control over his magic that he was able to force it to work, although for the life of him he couldn't imagine how Soren had been able to do a thing with it. And Marie—he smirked briefly imagining how it must have frustrated her before he snapped himself out of it.

Oh for Merlin's sake, Severus. Not now!

As much as he tried to will Marie out of his thoughts, it was nearly impossible, especially in his study where memories of her were still lingering on every surface, the fire whiskey loosening his ability to harness his mind. He slammed the desk drawer and refocused himself.You have far more important things to do than perserverate about her. Get yourself together.

Armed with a wand, his cloak, and a deep sense of purpose, Snape swept down the stairs intent on delivering justice. He was filled with an odd feeling of excitement, the mere thought of catching the bastard who harmed Soren was like a drug, and he was high on the anticipation of revenge.

Tinny was waiting in the parlor when he got downstairs. "I made you some food, sir. Please come and eat, its your favorite!"

"I can't stay, but I'll eat when I come back."

Tears welled in Tinny's eyes. "Please come back, sir. Tinny will be so worried. Promise you'll come back!"

Poor Tinny had been on the verge of emotional collapse for days, wondering if he'd ever see Lord Kent or little Soren ever again.

"I'll be back, Tinny."

A small pang of guilt hit Snape in the chest, and he reached down and gave Tinny a gentle pat on the head.

For once, Snape didn't exactly have a plan, other than to make whoever did this to Soren suffer until they begged for death.

Snape had never been one to enjoy inflicting pain on innocent people, or even not so innocent people. Oh but he was looking forward to making someone pay. He wasn't a sadist, but he relished being the one to mete out justice to someone who had it coming, and his body was vibrating with the excitement of knowing he was so close to finding Soren's assailant.

He apparated with a loud pop into Knockturn Alley, his eyes narrowed and filled with rage as he strode straight for the Apothecary.


Author's Note:

Thanks for reading, as always I love hearing from you! (So even if you don't have a TON to say I'd love to know if you're still reading and interested in this fic!).

The next chapter is mostly written so I'll try to edit and post it up within the next week if there's enthusiasm :) Your words of support always inspire me to sit my ass down and write.

I apparently am incapable of resolving a fic in less than 500K words, lol so we still have more to come but thank you for being a part of my writing journey! ️

Wishing you all the best in 2025. These are scary times we're living in (all over the world) but especially in the US. I hope everyone is safe and healthy and somehow we get through this.