The train staggered lazily. Almost unwilling to move forward, the old rails cried under the weight of the steaming locomotive.
Apart from the white noise, the cramped compartment was quiet. Harry sat by the window, strategically zoning out. His vision was blurry, eyes unfocused as he pretended to watch the dark forest flashing outside.
Snape was to his left, and across from him was seated the embodiment of Harry's impending misery.
The ministry's official, Higgs.
A man of pride and authority, mostly concerned about his own importance. The one Fudge appointed to be their guide to the safe house—a watchdog.
Harry didn't spare him more than a glance back when he was first introduced. By then, he was done with everything.
Dumbledore calmed the storm in his office in a manner only he was capable of. Then, Fudge made (ridiculous) demands. Snape had disagreed. End of the story?No. The Headmaster entertained Fudge's conditions.
Harry Potter must be safeguarded. On Ministry's terms.
Harry was too stunned to speak when Dumbledore easily inclined his head. Snape was not burdened by such an anchor, spitting a tirade of complaints right away.
"Headmaster, may I have a word—"
"Anything you wish to say can be said here," Fudge interrupted, the condescension in his voice barely masked.
Snape's next words were acid. "If you think for one second I will hand over Harry Potter like some commodity for you to lock away, then you are delusional."
"Severus, let us not escalate," Dumbledore interjected, his voice still calm but laced with warning. "Our utmost cooperation is in order, and the Ministry is not to be taken lightly—"
"Albus," Snape cut in, his tone dangerously low. "I refuse."
"I understand your caution," The Headmaster went on, "but I must impose on you to see reason. I never said Harry would be going alone. It's beyond illogical to expect you to 'hand over Harry Potter,' as you put it. You're his guardian, nobody will take him from you."
The expression on Snape's face hinted he longed for nothing more but to dispose of Harry himself. To anyone else, the stern furrow of his brow and rigid shoulders might have looked almost protective.
Snape will come to the safe house with Harry.
That was the conclusion of the meeting, which abruptly ended when the Professor said the strangest sentence Harry had ever heard to leave his mouth.
"Come pack your things from my chambers. All your essentials are still there."
The words didn't fit the man, as if someone had mistakenly put them in his throat. And it was directed at Harry.
Pack my things? From Snape's chambers?
He paused, staring at Snape until the man's expression darkened further. From the corner of his eye, he caught Fudge waiting expectantly.Right.One wrong move, one wrong reaction, and it was over. His heart was somewhere in his left intestine, beating madly. The most he could manage was a stiff nod, not trusting his voice or his expressions.
Stupid, stupid.
Snape gave no indication of being satisfied, but he didn't push for a verbal response. Small mercies. He merely turned on his heel and swept out of the room, his robes billowing behind him. Harry scrambled to follow, grateful to leave the office behind.
Once they were securely out of earshot, he dared to speak while jogging to keep up with Snape's long strides.
"What's going–?"
"Quiet," the man snapped without breaking stride.
Very informative.
Harry continued to trail behind, feeling like a fish thrown into a birdcage.
Previously, Hogwarts seemed unwelcoming, void of life. At night, it gained an eerie tinge, not so distant from a fever dream. On the outside, on the inside, and from within, everything felt wrong. Harry was desperate to orient himself in a place he should know but now barely recognised.
Finally, they stopped in front of an unassuming door. Harry nearly collided with Snape's back as the man halted abruptly. He didn't bother acknowledging the stumble. Instead, Snape pushed the door open, stepping inside as if Harry weren't there.
Hovering at the threshold, Harry hesitated, peering inside. He couldn't believe he was about to see the Professor's quarters. He wasn't sure he wanted to.
The sitting room beyond was small, cramped, and surprisingly plain. There was no clutter, no personality—not a single framed photo, piece of artwork, or anything else to suggest someone actually lived there. It was hollow.Empty.It could have belonged to anyone.
Harry frowned, feeling something inexplicably off about it all. "You live here?" The question escaped before he could stop it.
"Get in," Snape barked, his voice sharper than ever. He turned, his face set in a mask of irritation and cold calculation. "Unless you'd rather loiter in the corridor like an imbecile."
Yes, thank you very much.
He lingered another second, his arms crossed defiantly. "What are we doing here? Was Dumbledore serious? We can't just—"
"Shut. Your. Mouth." The man hissed, and the glint of hatred in his eyes was as strong as ever. "Now get inside, or I'll drag you in myself."
All the acts were gone. Whatever trace of gentleness or fatherly warmth Snape had mustered back in Dumbledore's office had evaporated the moment they'd left Fudge's presence. His voice was colder than Harry had heard in months, biting and impatient. Snape was back to being Snape—his usual, loathsome self.
Harry bristled, but he stepped inside anyway, letting the door swing shut behind him.
Snape didn't waste any time. He moved to the desk, yanking open drawers and rifling through their contents with sharp, decisive motions. "I assume even your underdeveloped powers of observation have deduced that we're leaving."
"Leaving?"That wasn't a joke?!
Snape didn't bother looking at him, continuing to sweep items from drawers into a trunk with an efficiency that could only come from years of practised contempt.
"I thought the Headmaster's agreement with the Minister was obvious, even to someone as dense as you. Perhaps, did you not bother listening to the conversation that decided your immediate future?"
Harry felt his face flush with irritation, biting back his first retort. "I paid attention! But I refuse to believe Dumbledore was serious! We can't leave!"
Snape slammed the desk drawer shut with enough force to make Harry flinch. When he turned, his eyes were narrow slits of black fury. "How inconsiderate of me. Since Harry Potter," he spat the name hatefully, "has gracefully informed us about what can and cannot be done, the matter is now resolved! I'm sure Fudge will be delighted to hear the news!"
"That's not what I meant—"
"I don't care what you meant, Potter." Snape's eyes narrowed, his lips curling in disdain. "Your ability to adapt to the current situation is rivalling your nonexistent intelligence. We are leaving. That is final."
"Why didn't Dumbledore refuse?" Harry ignored Snape's attempt to close the topic. "Isn't this what we were trying to avoid? Escape Fudge's—"
"Professor Dumbledore," Snape interrupted scathingly, "has decided to humour the Ministry in this matter, given the alternatives." He paused for a beat, the weight of his words hanging in the air. "What would you have had him do, Potter? Should he have given the Ministry ammunition to discredit him instead? Undermine Hogwarts' authority? Openly oppose the Wizengamot and divide the wizarding population further when we're on the brink of war?"
Harry swallowed hard, unsure how to respond.
Snape let out a derisive laugh. "All to ensure that Harry Potter remains tucked safely in a dormitory?" He shook his head. "I think not."
"So this is just about protecting Dumbledore's reputation?"
"This is about ensuring you remain alive, you insufferable brat," Snape hissed, his voice low and deadly. "Do you think the Ministry would stop at custody if given the chance? You'd be a puppet in Fudge's pocket faster than you could blink. Or worse, they'd leave you exposed—an easy target for the Dark Lord."
"I'm being dragged off Merlin-knows-where, and you expect me to —what? Accept it and stand here quietly like some bloody house-elf while you pack?"
Snape removed the distance between them in two swift steps, towering over Harry. "I expect you to shut your mouth. Or so help me, I will silence you myself. Do not test me."
Harry stood his ground, glaring up at him. "This is my life you're messing with!"
Snape's lip curled, his voice dripping with venom. "You seem to be under the impression you were given a choice. I assure you, you were not. It's this or Fudge's full custody. Part of me hopes you'd choose the latter—but even you aren't that irredeemably foolish."
He took in a breath of a martyr and continued. "Do you think I want this, Potter? Do you think I chose to spend my summer shackled to you, babysitting the Boy Who Lived in some Ministry-monitored holding cell? You are a burden—nothing more. If I had the luxury of leaving you behind, I would seize it without hesitation."
Harry detested himself for feeling a pang of hurt. Not because the words came from Snape, but because he had been fed the same sentence for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. Over, and over, and over. Throughout his childhood, throughout his life. He could add another person to the jar of adults branding him a dead weight.
Instead of rising to the rouse, his head cooled down. "We really are leaving?" Saying it out loud didn't make it any more believable.
"A point to Gryffindor," Snape barked, "for that one brain cell of yours working overtime to comprehend what transpired in the last twenty minutes!"
Harry found himself wanting to go back to the Dursleys. A wish he had never, ever made before. "Where are we going? Why does the Ministry care where I am? Until when must we do this?"
Question after question popped into his mind now that he was facing a crisis of a monumental degree.
"The Ministry cares because they're determined to meddle in matters they do not understand. Fudge is insistent on ensuring your safety—a concept he only grasps in the most superficial sense. They refuse to lose the last semblance of control over you since their initial plan blew over," Snape explained impatiently. "The period of this arrangement is uncertain, it stands until the Headmaster gives further notice."
There isn't a deadline?!
"Still, how is this acceptable—"
"Potter! You should have thrown your temper tantrum back in the office! Not that it would change anything, but I wouldn't be subjected to it alone. Since your opportunity has long passed, keep the complaints to yourself."
Harry chose to throw one last argument Snape's way. "You're my guardian now, aren't you? You can refuse."
"I'm beginning to doubt you understand the English language," said Snape, shutting his packed trunk close. "The Headmaster has a plan," he said with a conviction Neville answered potion questions.
What plan it was, Harry never got to know. Snape was done with his preparations and certainly with their argument.
"Why did you bring me here?" Harry asked, his voice quieter.
Snape ignored him, pulling a plain bracelet from his pocket instead. "Take this," he said curtly, thrusting it into Harry's hand. "Wear it at all times. Lose it, and I will ensure you regret it far beyond your grave."
Harry stared at the innocuous-looking bracelet. "What does it—"
"Not a word," Snape cut him off, his voice cold and clipped. "Just do as you are told. For once."
The man stepped toward the door but paused with his hand on the handle. His back was to Harry, but his posture was stiff, his tone tightly controlled. "You must play your part convincingly," he said. "From this point forward, you will address me as 'Sir' or 'Father,'" Snape spoke the last words as if they caused him excruciating pain.
"You will suppress your obnoxious emotions, control your tongue, and give the impression that we have been on amicable terms for years." He turned his head slightly, just enough for Harry to catch the edge of his sneer. "You will be on your best behaviour, you will do what I say and obey my commands without questioning my authority. The possibility of somebody keeping a watch at all times is high, so you are not to break the act unless I do it first. Is that understood?"
Harry's jaw tightened. That insufferable, overbearing tone, as if Snape were speaking to a five-year-old rather than someone whose life had just been upended. His knuckles tightened around the bracelet.
"Yes, Father," Harry said, his voice heavy with spite.
Snape's expression didn't change, but his gaze lingered for a moment longer, unreadable and sharp. Then, without another word, he wrenched the door open and disappeared into the corridor, leaving Harry standing alone in the lifeless room.
Harry felt the bracelet on his wrist. The leather binding was tough against his fingertips, and the single silver bead had a cool touch to it. He still wasn't sure what it was for, but the fact that it had come from Snape made him instinctively suspicious. Possibly a tracker? He made a note to ask Snape later again, when the man was in an amenable mood.
His eyelids gained weight. Little by little, despite coaching himself to stay awake, the cradling of the train invited him to the realm of dreams. A realm Harry loathed to visit every night.
It was crashing on him, a day like a year, unfamiliar surroundings, the loss of stability at Dursleys — however unstable it was... Sirius, Burrow, his friends, was he cut off from them completely? Maybe it was for the best, how on earth was he supposed to explain the situation...
Harry's head fell forward, the motion jerking him to senses. Immediately, there were two pairs of eyes on him, one more judgmental than the other.
I'm in hell.
He bit into his lip, the pain momentarily numbing the weariness. The train seat wasn't comfortable back when it was first made, let alone after decades of use. No matter how Harry shifted his back, how he straightened his neck or turned to the side, something dug into or poked his skin. They were barely twenty minutes into the ride, or so he waged. He couldn't pace himself mentally, he really couldn't, the exhaustion clouded his wit, and so he was left trapped in an eternal moment with a vaguely promised ending.
He couldn't sleep but he couldn't stay awake. He blinked slowly, but every time he succeeded in opening his eyes, Higgs' unyielding stare greeted him. His motivation to keep himself conscious rapidly evaporated.
"You can lean on me," came a nasal voice, cutting through the white noise of a rattling train cart.
"There's still time before we arrive. Rest," Snape added.
The sickeningly strange tone void of familiar disdain. So different from what he heard just half an hour ago, Potter here, Potter that. Harry refused to look at him. He didn't need to see Snape to know he had shifted closer, their clothes touching. He was offered Snape's shoulder.
No.
He thought the night's events couldn't be surpassed, and somehow, he was consistently proven wrong.
"I'm fine," he replied, shaking his head vehemently. "Just spaced out a bit."
The moment I voluntarily accept a prolonged contact with Snape is the moment I'm meant to be buried.
Snape, for a reason unknown to the vast universe, continued. "Don't mind him," He nodded towards Higgs' direction as if Harry was just shy.
I'm minding my sanity!
At a loss of words, Harry shrugged weakly, adding a convincing, "It's alright. I don't think I'd sleep, anyway."
"Suit yourself," Snape replied, leaning back in his seat, though his tone was free of sarcasm.
"How far are we?" Harry asked.
He didn't know where they were going – neither did Snape. A safe house wasn't exactly a specific answer, but nobody offered more. Once they returned to Dumbledore's study with Snape's suitcase, Fudge introduced Alan Higgs by wasting three whole words before he flooed away. Dumbledore was less talkative, waving them off with a brief "Good luck."
Higgs side-apparated with Harry to a shabby train station in some Merlin-forgotten town. There was no warning, they just reached Hogwarts' outer gates when his arm was grasped and his world spun. Harry barely had the strength to entertain the possibility of being kidnapped as he bent down and dry-heaved from the despised magical transport. Then, he heard a 'pop' to his right and black shoes entered his field of vision. Snape managed to follow them. Harry felt an odd tingle of relief.
Catching a night train, Higgs having two tickets in hand and a smirk on his lips as he forced Harry to board the cart, leaving Snape on the platform. He quickly joined them after producing a ticket of his own, yanking Harry from Higgs grip and hauling him into the nearest compartment. Shutting the door in front of Higgs' face wasn't enough clue for the Ministry official to grant them a moment of privacy. As if.
Harry felt like a piece of meat, dragged one way or another by people he hated. Like a bait on a rod dangling above water full of hungry sharks.
They rode in tense, stifling silence. No opportunity, not a crack in glass to ask questions, the important, pressing questions. Harry had to seize the chance once Snape turned into chatterbox.
The Professor didn't reply, of course he didn't, but the long, significant look he gave to Higgs spoke volumes.
"Another fifty minutes to go," Higgs answered easily, as if they were on a field trip. "Why? Are you that excited to see your new home, Harry?"
"No," said Harry. The mere idea of a new home made him twitch. He never had a home, let alone this promised, unknown prison. "It's a safe house, I won't be spending more time there than necessary."
"I would hold my words were I you. You might find your lodging permanent soon, once your acting ceases," Higgs said, his tone still light with clear underlying mockery. As if he was nudging a scared animal with a stick, testing whether it would attack.
Harry did attack. Exhausted, overstimulated, and fed up, he was easier to set off than a firework.
"You think I care about your opinion?" he shot back, voice low but pointed. "You don't know anything about me or what I want."
I want to be back at Dursleys' goddamnit!
Realizing he's done little for their father-son act for the past half an hour, he craftly added. "I'm supposed to be at my Dad's right now, celebrating that I finally get to live with him. And where are we instead? In the company of someone who will dissect our every word and move."
"You always had the role of a martyr, or so I heard, Harry," Higgs pointed out, the mockery in his voice evident this time. "Not all rumours are false, it seems."
"Watch your tone," Snape interjected. "We heard enough accusations in one evening. I advise you to save some for tomorrow, lest you want to run out of your minimal vocabulary. I won't stand for you insulting Harry in my presence."
Higgs' eyebrow quirked up. He shifted, swinging one leg over his other while crossing his arms on his chest. Clear offensive stance.
"Ah? Somebody's touchy," he let out a derisive huff. "I'll be honest since you two are not.This is painful to watch. You can't fool me, I was trained to interrogate your kind," he spat in Snape's direction. "This little play gnaws at my teeth. The two of you are trying so hard it was almost amusing at first. Not anymore. Just stop."
He waved a dismissive hand, but his sharp gaze jumped from Harry to Snape in a calculative motion. Observing every little gesture.
"You're out of line," said Snape, his voice edged with an unmistakable warning.
"Out of line?" Higgs echoed, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "That's rich. You two are playing pretend, trying to convince me you're some kind of... family." He made air quotes with his fingers, his eyes narrowing as he focused on Snape. "I've seen better performances in a student play."
"Am I to endure your baseless insinuations every time I interact with my ward, defend him, care for him, or, Merlin forbid, simply open my mouth? My patience has been abundant so far, but it is limited. Your role is to take us to the safe house. Know your place."
Harry could hear the tension beneath the words. It wasn't anger, but it was something colder, something that made his skin prickle. Snape wasn't just pretending; he was putting on a show of control, making sure it was clear that he was the one in charge here, that they were the ones who set the rules.
Higgs scoffed, rolling his eyes.
"My role isn't a mere guide, as you are clearly aware, so don't bother devaluing your intelligence. It's not convincing. You two could express love for each other, but the truth stands; this is a farce."
There was a pregnant silence. Harry decided to overlook the remark, not bothering to invest one brain impulse to comprehend what Higgs insinuated. Snape did not possess this virtue.
"I beg your pardon?" He hissed, equally disgusted and insulted.
"I can see right through you," Higgs challenged.
"I'm inclined to think you are blind," Snape said icily. "I have no interest in the Ministry's ridiculous standards, nor their misguided opinions on how a child should be raised. But I will not tolerate interference when it comes to my—" he hesitated just briefly, though the words still cut like steel, "—parenting."
"There's nothing you two can do, say, or even think that would convince me of your lie. I merely suggested you save us the time and look how it rattled your nerves, Death Eater."
"My son is forced to move from one unstable environment to another while the person in charge is treating us like criminals, and the moment I show and voice my concerns, I am accused of deceit."
His voice rose slightly, like a blade unsheathing. " Is this how the Ministry intended to treat Harry Potter in their custody? Tell me, Mr. Higgs—should I express concern for his welfare again, or would you prefer I mimic the neglect of his Muggle relatives?"
Higgs sneered, clearly savouring the weight of Snape's words. "Ah, so it is true. Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived, mistreated by Muggles. A tale so tragic it could earn a standing ovation in the Wizengamot. I was under the impression the Minister highlighted certain statements, but maybe it wasn't necessary after all."
Harry's hands balled into fists. He hadn't had the time to unpack what Fudge did, what he made of Harry, a neglected nutjob, but Higgs spitting into his face was something that warranted immediate attention. No matter how sick Harry felt. No matter how he wanted to close his eyes, plug his ears and scream. He had to stand up for himself, to stuff Higgs' mouth with cotton and silence his vocal chords.
"Silence."
The word did not come out of Harry's throat. The cold, scathing fury it was soaked in wasn't his own.
"You dare trivialise a child's suffering to bolster your pathetic, misguided accusations?" Snape snarled, his voice a growl.
"It's no use trying to intimidate me—" Higgs wittily spoke into the tension, his smirk disappearing.
"I said, silence."
Snape cut him off mercilessly.
"I don't care how many of your 'trained interrogator' tricks you try to pull, they will not work here. This is the only warning I'm giving you: touch that subject again, and you will regret it. If you think you can sit there with your judgmental eyes and mock Harry's past, then you'll find out what it really means to cross me. Not as a professor or a Death Eater, but as a Father."
Harry's heart raced. He had never heard Snape sound like this. Not the usual sarcasm, not the biting disdain, not even the toneless acting of a pretend guardian. This was something darker, something believably protective. The emotion behind Snape's sentences felt raw, real, so real that if Harry didn't know the truth, he'd believe every word.
For the first time, Higgs seemed to hesitate. The mocking glint in his eyes faltered, replaced with unreadable emotion, before he straightened, pressing his lips into a thin line. His arrogance was still there, but it had been tempered by Snape's wrath.
"This matter is closed. If you find the need to speak again and voice any professional concerns, document them on parchment and save us the agony of listening to your voice," Snape concluded viciously.
"Once the Ministry sheds its obtuseness and accepts this adoption for what it is — a legalisation of a simple familial bond, not a strategic conspiracy, I will speak to your supervisor about the abhorrent treatment we were subjected to."
Higgs didn't reply.
His gaze turned to the passing black countryside outside the window and stayed there for the rest of their journey. Harry followed suit, his mind in chaos.
Special thank you goes to my dear friend and beta, Luna, for all her help and nudging. This chapter would not exist without her. This update took so long because I got stuck. There are five different versions of this chapter, I just kept rewriting it, haha... so if you have any critique, keep it mild plis.
And THANK YOU for all the reviews, follows, favorites, reads, EVERYTHING! I'll not abandon this fic (or any of mine), so even if the updates take all the time in the world, there will be a new chapter! I promise!