Author's Note:

Hi y'all. I know I left you with drama and chaos in the last chapter and I hate to say there is still more drama and chaos. BUT- Harry is coming through in this chapter. And we get some good Snape/Harry banter which I'm here for. Nonetheless, we're in the thick of it, so brace yourself!

️ Warning: Angst ahead ️

🍷 🍷- this is a 2 drink chapter

Back in St. Mungo's, Soren was in a potion-induced coma being wheeled to a secure ward until they could figure out who he was and what had happened to him. As with all suspected cases of abuse, his medical chart was filed under a pseudonym, sealed and readable only by the three specialist healers (two from St. Mungo's, one from the curse breaking department of the Ministry) who were overseeing his care.

When he'd arrived at A&E, one of the healers had attempted to do some of the most basic healing spells for his wounds and broken bones, but even with the pain potion, Soren screamed and writhed in agony, as the Cruciatus curse flared.

Chief Healer Anita Bashir was leading Soren's care team at St. Mungo's and had gathered everyone in his secure new room to brief them on the situation and plan. In addition to being a pediatric healer of remarkable talent, she'd spent several years in a medical curse-breaking apprenticeship early in her career, traveling the world seeing and solving unusual cases. She took her duties with an exacting professionalism and zero room for error, so while she could be highly intimidating at first, she was extremely well-respected and beloved by her patients as well as the mediwitches and healers she worked with.

Outside of seeing patients, Anita was well-known for being a staunch advocate for magical children's rights, fearlessly standing before the Ministry to debate policy when needed and as a result, had recently been named a representative to the International Congress for Magical Human Rights.

A hush fell over the room as soon as she strode in, everyone standing up straight and respectfully waiting for her to address them. With a wave of her wand, she ensured the door was closed and locked and that heightened privacy wards were in place before she opened the chart.

"Our patient is Johnny Doe, a 6-7yo male magical child, malnourished and afflicted by several unidentified dark curses, one of which we have high suspicion was a Cruciatus."

There were a few small gasps as the care team looked at each other in shock, but as soon as Healer Bashir looked up from the chart disapprovingly, the room went silent once again.

"He was brought in by Ministry Officials after he was found unaccompanied in Diagon Alley, appearing as you see him now, and unable to speak. On initial exam he was found to be covered in fur along with various canine features as a result of said curse. In addition, he presented with superficial injuries to his hands, wrists, knees and back, as well as two broken ribs and some bleeding around his left kidney, the result of a recent physical assault in addition to the magical one."

Anita paused for a moment, letting her eyes fall back to the chart as she stole an extra few seconds to compose herself. No matter how many times she'd seen it, child abuse cases affected her just as deeply each time. She took a silent breath and continued.

"We'll keep him sedated for the time-being, for pain-control and because it seems any magical manipulation causes the unknown curse to somehow amplify its properties, reigniting the Cruciatus. For his care, no additional spells should be performed on him without my express permission, we will continue to monitor him and do only what is necessary for his comfort until we have more information and a clearer path forward."

Geraldine, who was leading the Ministry investigation, chimed in from the other side of the room. "The Ministry is working on identifying him, but so far we haven't received any reports of missing children. We're checking in with Muggle authorities just in case, but it is possible he's not even from the UK and he was brought here against his will."

"This is precisely why we're keeping him under the highest security," Healer Bashir added. "As much as it sickens me to say so, we're considering several scenarios. There's a good possibility this was done to him by someone from his own family, but we also can't rule out that this is a child who has been trafficked for nefarious purposes." She rested a kind hand on Soren's forehead, smoothing the dark hair from his face. "Bless. Whatever he's been through, he's safe now and it is our job to see he's healed and cared for in every way."

With an authoritative tone, Healer Bashir tucked the chart securely into her robes and put her head up high as she made her final address to the room. "You have all been assigned to this care team because of your skills and experience, but your discretion is imperative. There will be no casual gossip in the corridors or canteen, nor will you discuss it with your friends and partners back home. This boy has been cursed severely, and until we identify him and find out what happened, you will say nothing."

All of the mediwitches, healers, and Ministry officials nodded and mumbled their understanding.

"You may return to your duties. Thank you for your work."

As the room cleared, Healer Bashir motioned to Geraldine, waiting for the last person to leave and close the door before she spoke.

"I want you to keep me updated on your investigation. Any clues whatsoever to help us figure out what god-forsaken curse was put on this boy and why. We took some samples and were able to run a few basic diagnostic spells before we realized it was making things worse, so we don't have nearly as much information as I would like—however, I'm reluctant to try much to break the curse right now. So far every time we've exposed him to any kind of magic, it is like the curse soaks it up and punishes him. I have to say I haven't seen anything like this before, it is truly sadistic."

"Understood, ma'am. I'll let you know as soon as we have any word. I've heard of similar cases of children being turned into animals, not in the UK, but there's an entire underground trafficking ring in Europe that has sold young kids as pets. It's depraved."

"Whatever the circumstances, just ensure there are aurors at his door at all times. I don't care who shows up asking about him or claiming to know him, no one gets in besides the approved medical care team and Ministry officials. And thank you again for making your curse-breakers available to us."

"Of course."

"I fear we have some difficult work ahead of us. Poor boy."

Geraldine nodded. "If there's anything else you need, let me know. I'm glad you're leading the team, there's no one better."

"I'm not sure about that, but as a mum myself, I honestly can't fathom anyone hurting a child in this way, much less a parent." She sighed heavily and shook her head. "Some people honestly just shouldn't have children."

"Oh believe me, I know."

With a nod, the two women exited the room, leaving an auror standing guard outside.

"I've made my decision, Potter. Soren will stay in the Ministry's custody. It's better for everyone that way."

A good several seconds passed in complete silence, both Harry and Marie so shocked and horrified they didn't know how to respond.

As his words clicked in, Marie was first to react. "WHAT? How can you say that? You can't just walk away from him, he's not a pet you're returning to the pound. Even that would be evil, but he's your child. You're going to destroy him!"

"I have nothing more to say on the matter. My decision has been made." Snape spoke with such finality and detachment, it was unnerving, even to him.

A vein on Harry's neck pulsed, knowing both he and Snape shared the pain of being unloved and neglected in childhood. "Marie is right, he'll never recover from that kind of abandonment. I know you're upset right now, but—"

"Stay out of this, Potter, no one asked for your opinion, and my decision is none of your business." Snape turned, allowing himself a small release by hurling his anger on Harry, hitting him with a dark glare.

"In case you forgot, sir, you made it my business. You called for me, asking for my help, and I've been running around ever since doing everything in my power to help you and Soren!"

Snape towered over Harry, baring his clenched teeth. "How dare you pretend that you're not the reason I'm in this predicament in the first place. I never wanted the brat—I was perfectly content with my life until the day you showed up here, uninvited, dragging him through the floo and foisting him into my home and my life. All the while shamelessly lying to me about my obligations when you knew there were other options. This is completely your fault!"

"Do you even hear yourself?" Marie gasped in horror before Harry could respond. "Soren is your son, Lord Kent— it was your actions that led to him existing in the first place, and I'm sorry you think he upended your perfect little life, but he is your responsibility. Only the worst kind of man would refuse to step up and take care of his child, regardless of the circumstances. And you—" she waved her hand around at the luxury of the manor—"have absolutely no excuses whatsoever."

Marie was truly disgusted, boring into him with her eyes wondering how she ever thought there was an ounce of goodness in him. "How silly of me to believe that you actually cared about him, I should have known from the first moment I met you that you were a complete piece of shit who couldn't even do the bare minimum to protect him and be there for him. You're despicable."

"I am indeed. Finally, we can agree on something."

With an angry groan, Marie tossed her hands up in frustration, infuriated that he was agreeing with her when she wanted him to fight back, prove to her that she was wrong.

Unlike Marie, Harry was fully aware of the entire story, and while he agreed with her completely, he also knew Snape. At this point he knew it would be a waste of breath to argue with the man. If he wanted to get through to him, he'd have to be far more clever, and at the moment his first priority was Soren. So for the first time in their storied relationship, Harry chose not to engage, knowing that perhaps his lack of words would send a far more powerful message. His best bet was to leave Snape to brood on his own, hoping the guilt would overwhelm him and he'd change his mind.

In a nonchalant tone, Harry turned to Marie. "I have to get back to the Ministry, I've asked for updates and I'm not going to get them here."

Harry took a dramatic pause and turned toward Snape. "Even if we've had our differences, I always believed you to be a person of principle, someone who was fiercely loyal and devoted to their obligations. You're making a mistake— and I'm deeply disappointed in you."

It took all of Harry's nerve to end the conversation there, knowing it would unsettle, and probably enrage Snape. But he wasn't a child anymore, and at the moment he was in a place of moral superiority, so he was going to let Snape sit with it because he had no doubt it would unravel him.

Without another word, Harry walked to the floo and disappeared through the flames before Snape had the chance to even formulate a snarky response.

So instead, as soon as Harry was gone, Snape turned his attention back to Marie, vitriol seeping out of every pore. "Well, what are you waiting for? You can leave now, it should be obvious I have no need for you here."

Marie narrowed her eyes now, still reeling with disbelief, reaching for the one word she knew would trigger him. "You really are a coward, you know…an absolutely pathetic coward!"

Snape was already teetering on the edge, but her words broke his resolve and without a second thought, he tore off his coat, yanking up the sleeve of his left arm so violently that his cufflink went flying. "Look at it—do you know what it is? I have no business being a father!"

All of the blood drained from Marie's face as she stared down at it. "My god."

He thrust his forearm further into her face. "Are you satisfied now, Ms. Cloutier? Do you need any more evidence that I'm as unworthy and despicable as you say?" An awkward moment of silence passed before Snape pointed at the floo. "Now get out!"

There was no mistaking the dark mark on his pale forearm, and like a light switch, all of Marie's anger evaporated instantly as confusion, betrayal and then the fear washed over her. "You're one of them?"

"Clearly." Snape pulled his sleeve down with resignation and sat back in his chair, feeling an unexpected relief from the impulsive bit of honesty. Not knowing what else to do with himself, he snapped for Tinny to bring him a whiskey.

"I don't understand…" Marie swallowed, her mouth now completely dry. "This doesn't make any sense. I thought they were all dead. Or in prison. Who are you?"

Snape huffed, rolling his eyes and ignoring her question. "I told you the situation was complicated. And it cannot be resolved."

Suddenly the pieces were falling into place for Marie. "So what, is someone looking for you? Are you a wanted fugitive? You're in hiding and you're afraid if you go and get Soren, they'll send you to Azkaban?"

"It's possible, though that's not what concerns me." Snape was mildly impressed that she'd managed to come to that conclusion, even if she was entirely wrong because she missing quite a bit of information.

"Then what? Is someone going to blackmail you, try to kill you? What reason on earth could be more important than going to get your son. Even if something bad were to happen, at least Soren would know you cared about him enough to try. At least he'd know you loved him and you weren't just abandoning him, because your selfish needs are more important than his."

"You have absolutely no idea what you're talking about. I've made my decision with his best interest in mind. He's young, he'll get over it. In a few years I'll be nothing more than a distant memory—if that." Snape took a slow sip from his drink and stared into the flames, his voice and his eyes completely devoid of any emotion. "Perhaps someone might even do him a favor and wipe his memory, letting him have a clean start."

"Are you serious?!" Marie paced slightly, her mind a jumble of emotions and thoughts as her fury returned. "You're sick in the head. Really. I should have known something was wrong with you the first day I laid eyes on you, I've never met a more cruel and callous person in my entire life. You're evil—and now I know you have the mark to prove it!"

"Then it should be absolutely clear to you that Soren is better off without me. Like you said earlier, he deserves better."

Marie narrowed her eyes, not knowing how to react. "Yes, he does deserve better and I'm going to do everything in my power to see that he gets it! I'll adopt him, I'll do whatever it takes to make sure he is somewhere he is loved and cherished."

"What a charming idea." Snape drawled, raising a lazy eyebrow. "Quite a grand vision for someone who can barely take care of herself, though, don't you think? Where do you plan to live? In a cardboard box under a bridge?"

"You know what? Fuck you!" Marie yelled out in frustration. "I'm leaving— I refuse to stay one more minute in this house with a sociopathic liar, bigot, and hypocrite!"

"Finally, relief at last." Snape took a particularly dramatic sip of his whiskey, still refusing to look at her.

"You're such a bastard! I wish I'd never met you!" Marie stomped up the steps yelling out behind her. "I hope whoever's after you succeeds! And that you suffer. A lot!"

She stormed up the stairs and gathered her things in record time, making her displeasure evident as she slammed her bedroom door, banging around her wardrobe and dresser drawers as loudly as possible, content to leave the room in complete disarray as she stuffed her clothes and personal belongings haphazardly into suitcases.

Had the circumstances been different, Snape would have never tolerated anyone acting so childishly, stomping around in the manor and disrespecting his things, but at this point he didn't care about anything beyond his own self-loathing.

Five minutes later, Marie came huffing down the stairs, her hair wild and her face red as she dragged two full-size suitcases and a handful of smaller bags toward the fireplace. She dropped them loudly on the floor and put her hand out. "Give me my wand back so I can get out of here."

"Gladly." Snape pulled out her wand and held it in front of him, not bothering to stand or move toward her, forcing her to come over and snatch it out of his hand. "Bon voyage."

"Asshole," she mumbled under her breath. With an angry flick of her wand, she shrank down her belongings and shoved them in her pockets, grabbing a rough handful of floo powder before throwing it in with force. "I'm not giving up on Soren, but I hope you get everything you deserve!"

And with a whoosh and a flash of green flames, she was gone, Snape now alone and finally free to indulge his well of grief and anger.

He immediately had Tinny pour him another Firewhiskey, which he knew was probably a terrible idea but he had no other way to cope. He felt impotent, ashamed. Hopeless. Scared.

Normally he relished his time alone, something he'd had precious little of since Soren arrived, but now the manor felt empty and quiet in the worst way and his entire body ached with loneliness.

After finishing his third generous glass of whiskey, he stood up and shouted once more for Tinny. "I'm going to my room. Do not disturb me. For any reason."

Tinny nodded and disappeared with a small poof, his eyes full of tears.

Snape slowly dragged himself to his bedroom, locking and warding the door behind him before going immediately to his wardrobe to pull out his sacred warded wooden box. Like an addict holding their drugs and waiting to take a hit, he soaked in the endorphin rush before opening the lid and feasting his eyes on the silver vial that had been tempting his thoughts for the last few hours. He caressed the cold metal lovingly for a few moments before he lifted it out, gripping it tightly in his hand and pulling it into his chest as if it were the only thing in the entire world he could count on.

And then it happened. After 25 long years of denying himself, a massive crack tore through the fortress around his heart, and he began to cry.

Not just a few tears, but deep heaving sobs that racked his entire body until he collapsed onto his bed, wailing into his pillow. He knew no one could see him, but he slashed his wand, dropping the dark velvet curtains that surrounded his bed, hiding himself and shutting out the world around him.

And in case that wasn't pathetic enough, several minutes later in a desperate act to comfort himself, he cast a warming bubble around his body so he wouldn't feel so alone…which only served to make him hate himself more.

He screamed and cried until there was nothing left inside of him and he was just laying in the dark, staring into nothingness, twirling his silver vial between his fingers wondering why he'd ever survived the war in the first place.

Sometimes he wondered why he was ever born, thrust into a life of pure suffering—doomed to be abused, mocked, and loathed until he took his last breath. He was convinced he must have committed some grave sin in a past life, something so egregious it had damned him to a long life of karmic revenge. You deserve it. You're rotten to the core.

Minutes or possibly even hours ticked by, while he pondered his existence, but eventually with all of the emotion drained out of him (and likely aided by all the whiskey), he fell asleep.

Marie had been so consumed with anger and confusion that it was only after she'd left that the sadness and hopelessness took over. Not knowing where else to go, she made her way to the Leaky Cauldron, hoping if she stayed in London she'd might be able to be there for Soren. He was the only thing that mattered to her right now.

"I need a room, please." Marie said to the surly young man who finally came to help her, irritated she was making him check her-in at this late hour of the night.

"How many nights?"

Marie had no idea, in fact, it hadn't fully hit her that at the moment she was homeless, practically penniless, and without anywhere else to go—but she'd figure that out later. Right now all she cared about was getting to Soren.

"Umm, a week, I guess. For now."

"Pay up front." With an annoyed sigh, the man pushed a piece of paper over to her. "Fill this out. If you don't have cash, you can put your vault details here. But if there's not enough funds when we check tomorrow, you're out."

"Sure." Marie gave a half-hearted smile hoping that Lord Kent would at least deposit this months salary to give her a little cushion.

As soon as she slid the paper back to him, he handed her the key. "Room 9. Down the hall on the left. Breakfast goes til 10."

Once in her room, Marie tried to settle in, unpacking a few things and laying on her bed— but she was beyond restless, the past several days were some of the most intense of her life, and she was still so confused. All of her feelings were swirling so violently inside of her she felt like she was caught under a wave, being tumbled around in the ocean with no idea which way was up, ignoring all of the pain just desperately wanting to breathe.

After a few brutal minutes stuck deep in her thoughts, she couldn't take it anymore, and she put her shoes back on and made her way to the bar. Her stomach gave a loud grumble as she strode through the hallway, reminding her that she hadn't eaten since that small pastry she'd had with her afternoon coffee in Edinburgh. Was that only yesterday? It feels like another lifetime ago. Everything had changed.

But she didn't care what Lord Kent said, she was going to save Soren. Even if that asshole couldn't be bothered.

Snape awoke with a start to harsh knocking on his bedroom door. He sat up abruptly and shouted in the direction of his door. "Dammit Tinny, I told you I was not to be disturbed! Leave me!"

"Sir, it's Harry."

With a livid roar, Snape shot up and stalked toward the door, still fully clothed from the night before and completely determined to eviscerate the man for daring to barge into his home uninvited. He knew the only way he'd been able to get in was because he'd used that god-forsaken Ministry key that bypassed all of the wards on his floo. Infuriating brat. He glanced at the clock on his wall which made him even more indignant. 5am.

Slinging open the door with pure disdain, Snape leered down at Harry. "You have some nerve showing up here, banging down the door to my private chambers before sunrise after I told you my mind was made up."

"I know you're upset, but we need to talk."

"The hell we do, Potter. Now get out before I indulge my lifelong fantasy and hex you into oblivion." Snape attempted to slam the door in his face but Harry bravely put his foot in the door, pushing back on the wood firmly with his hands.

"It's important. And urgent."

Snape kicked harshly at Harry's foot before reaching out to grab him by the collar, jetting him into the corridor. "I know listening and following directions have never been your strong suit, but as I've already told you, I'm done. I'm washing my hands of the boy, you, and this entire situation, so you will leave my house right now and if there's any justice in the universe, I will never have to see your wretched face ever again."

Harry stumbled backward landing roughly on the worn carpet runner, his glasses slinging off of him in the process. He sat up quickly and put them back on, only to see Snape hovering over him, seething.

"Move it, Potter. Now. Before I decide to return you home to your unfortunate wife in bite-sized pieces." He drew his wand menacingly and nudged Harry's thigh harshly with his foot. "Up."

Despite the obvious contempt coming from his former Professor, Harry remained calm, addressing him from the floor. "I think you'll want to hear what I have to say."

A brief cackle escaped from Snape's lips. "I think not."

He leaned down further. "Let me assure you, Potter, there has never been a single moment of your miserable existence where I've entertained such a ridiculous thought, and it certainly isn't going to start today. Now get out of my house."

Before Harry could fully pick himself off the floor, Snape reached down and grabbed him by the bicep, yanking him to his feet like he would a misbehaving toddler, intent on dragging him down the stairs and tossing him directly in the floo.

"Snape, stop. Listen!" Harry dug in his heels with a surprising amount of strength, pulling back on the man's tight grasp, freeing himself and reflexively reaching for his wand.

Hearing his name and seeing Harry draw his wand put Snape on the verge of spontaneous combustion, and he slammed Harry up against the wall, jabbing his own wand sharply into the young man's neck. "You insolent fool! Don't you dare challenge me, I have literally nothing to lose."

Terror flashed momentarily in Harry's wide green eyes, and Snape froze as memories of Lily flooded in front of him— just that one look was an emotional gut punch that left him suddenly off-kilter, questioning what on earth he was doing with his wand to Harry's neck. You bastard, what are you doing?

Harry spoke softly without an ounce of fear in his voice, knowing in his heart the man would never truly hurt him. "You have everything to lose. Now, please, put your wand away and just listen." He paused for a moment, seeing the rage in the man's eyes morph into pure pain and regret. "Please sir, I don't want to hurt you."

Shame burned through Snape at those words, realizing that he'd completely lost control, but worst of all, Harry had let him, refusing to fight back because even after all of these years and everything that had happened in the last few days, the young wizard still held him in some regard. Sentimental Gryffindor, still wants to believe the best of people.

But the effect of this realization was so powerful, Snape let his wand arm fall listlessly to his side, releasing Harry almost gently before turning quickly away, willing himself to forget the haunting look in the boy's eyes that reminded him—once again—that he was the worst man on earth.

As he strided through the East wing, Snape shouted out into the void. "Tinny! Bring us some tea. And if you ever ever allow Mr. Potter or anyone else near my personal chambers again, I'll gift you an entire wardrobe's worth of clothes and you'll be out in the streets." It was an entirely empty threat, and of course he didn't blame Tinny, but he hoped it made Harry feel slightly guilty for putting the poor house elf in such an impossible position.

Harry's heart was still racing as he stood shell-shocked in the hallway, but he was glad he'd kept his composure, pausing for a moment to breathe and adjust his clothing before following Snape down the stairs and into the parlor. Progress, not perfection he reminded himself.

As usual, Snape sunk into his armchair while Harry perched on the edge of the couch, both of them silent for a moment as their bodies recovered from the intensity of their most recent confrontation.

Tinny set down the tea and they both served themselves, time passing awkwardly for several more minutes while they avoided looking at one another.

Growing irritated, Snape finally snapped. "You came blasting into my house at 5am like a herd of wild hippogriffs, Potter, so whatever it is that's so bloody important, just say it."

"Sorry." Harry took a sip of his tea, his throat dry from lack of sleep and adrenaline. When he'd replaced the cup on the saucer, he looked up, steeling himself. "They still haven't identified Soren, but the Ministry has launched a full criminal investigation, and the aurors are out in force."

"Well I should hope so—anyone who harms a defenseless child deserves to be brought to justice."

"Sir…because no one has filed a missing person's report, they are treating this a case of suspected child abuse, potentially child-trafficking or kidnapping. And since Soren's been in your custody, and at the moment your paternity is in question—once they figure out who he is—and I'm sure they will before too long—they're going to come looking for you. Hunting you, rather."

This was a nightmare. Snape tried to think of a way out, but he was stuck. "Surely Soren can tell them who did this to him."

"About that." Harry paused again, trying to swallow the lump in his throat, swigging down the remainder of his tea. "It's been nearly impossible to get information, but from what my sources have told me, Soren's in a coma. Whatever dark curse he's been tortured with amplifies and reignites the Cruciatus every time he's exposed to any kind of magic, even the most basic diagnostic spells."

"What? Someone Crucio'd my 7-year old child?" A rage like no other coursed through Snape's body, constricting his chest and causing bile rising up in his throat until he nearly vomited.

Having experienced this unforgivable curse himself, there was nothing in the world so painful, and he'd spent his entire life in various states of torture. Just imagining tiny Soren suffering through this made his entire body surge with fury. Snape's hands subconsciously gripped his wand as his eyes flashed with determination. "I swear to Merlin, I will find whoever did this, and when I do, I will torture them myself. What kind of monster would do that to a child!"

"I'm sorry, sir. I know that's hard to hear, but they have the best healers in Britain working with him, and even some of the curse-breakers from the Ministry."

Snape slammed down his cup and put his face into his hands, letting out an inhuman guttural scream, guilt and fear overtaking his anger. "This is all my fault. Soren ran away because of me. And now he's been tortured and god knows what else because I couldn't protect him! You should have never brought him here. You should have known I'd fail him."

Relief poured over Harry at finally seeing a glimpse of Snape's uncharastic vulnerability, knowing his walls were crumbling at last and his true emotions were on display.

"What happened to Soren isn't your fault. Some evil, crazy person cursed him with dark magic, but he's safe now and in good hands. Right now it's you we need to worry about."

"I don't give a toss what happens to me, Potter," Snape spat. "Let them come for me, kill me, even…I wish they would. I would welcome it, in fact."

"Enough!" Harry raised his voice, sounding like a grown man to Snape for the first time.

Snape shot him a withering look that did nothing to quell Harry's determination.

"You have two choices. One, you do the only right thing and you go to the Ministry right now, you tell them who you are, you tell them Soren is your son, and you answer their bloody questions so they can rule you out and find the real bastard who did this. Then you sit by Soren's side and comfort him and be the father he deserves, the one I know you are. He needs you. Especially after everything he's been through. As long as you're there when he wakes up, he'll never have to know that you even considered trying to abandon him."

Snape closed his eyes, abruptly coming to the realization that he was completely fucked. All of his work, all of his planning, everything he'd tried to do to avoid this—none of it meant anything now. It was over. There was no way out except his worst fucking nightmare.

Harry continued— "The other option is you continue to mope around here, drinking and feeling sorry for yourself until every auror in England bursts through your door with a gaggle of dementors ready to whisk you away to Azkaban. If you're lucky. Some of those dickheads will probably enjoy kicking you down the stairs and letting out a few cruel spells 'in self-defence' if they think you've harmed a child. Maybe even a Dementor's Kiss if you put up a fight."

"I'd deserve it."

"No you don't! Even if you made it alive to your trial, then what? Your identity will be blown regardless, and your real name and face will be splashed across every paper while you play an insane game of Russian roulette with the Ministry and Magical Law Enforcement to prove your innocence. Soren will still lose his home and his family and he'll be even more traumatized because the one person he thought he could depend on left him in his most vulnerable moment."

The whole reason Snape had decided to leave Soren with the Ministry was in a last attempt to protect him, to give him a better future. He'd spent every minute in pure agony and fear since the second he realized Soren was missing, because as much as he loathed admitting it, he did love the boy. Far more than he loved himself. He truly believed protecting Soren from his past and name was the most loving thing he could do. Not to mention, Soren clearly loathed him enough to run away. But now— now the circumstances had changed dramatically and Snape didn't have a plan for this.

"I could just disappear, Potter." Coward. The second the words left his mouth, he knew it sounded absurd. But there was still a part of him who wanted to run away or— maybe the silver vial.

"Oh for Merlin's sake." Harry stood up and leered down at Snape, crossing his arms over his chest, boring into the man's eyes bravely with every ounce of authority he could muster. "I've had enough of your self-indulgent bullshit. Stop it. There's only one right answer here, and I will not sit back and watch you throw Soren's life or your own away because you carry so much trauma you're incapable of believing anything good about yourself! I know you think it's the end of the world, but it's not. You've been through far harder things. Now stand up, get your cloak, and wipe that sad look off your face! We're going to the Ministry to sort this out."

In any other circumstance, Snape might have been highly amused at the audacity of Harry Potter daring to lecture him about self-indulgent behavior, but he was mildly impressed. He didn't think the brat had it in him, but he'd managed a passable little speech. He'd probably only grade it an A for barely acceptable, if he had to, but still. Ultimately Snape knew he was right, there was no other choice. Not that he'd give the smug little twerp any credit for that conclusion, he'd come to it himself minutes ago.

Snape didn't move, but Harry could see he was trying to steel himself so he gave him a moment, knowing this would be far more difficult for Snape than anything he'd had to do during the war. But in his heart Harry knew that even if he was fighting it, Snape would do the right thing. He had to.

And Harry was right. As soon as Snape realized just how badly Soren had been injured, all of his instincts were screaming at him to go to him, to protect him, to hunt down and destroy whatever psychopath thought they could get away with harming his child. His heart burned with pain imagining his little boy terrified, suffering and writhing in pain as someone Crucio'd and cursed him. But these were emotions he'd never felt before, that he didn't know what to do with, that he didn't know how to file away and box up like every other uncomfortable feeling he'd annexed over the years. Love. It's love.

A vague part of him had had brief glimpses of the feeling over the years, but it had largely been painful, one-sided, unrequited…conditional. He'd loved his mother but she didn't love him back. Same with his father. He'd loved Lily, but she hadn't returned his love. It had always been painful for him, ensuring him as he went through life that love was only pain. And he had no need for it.

But this felt different. It still felt painful, excruciating even, but this love felt like strength. Yes, this love made him vulnerable, scared, guilty and regretful— but more determined and protective beyond anything he'd ever felt in his life. It was far more powerful than anything else he'd ever felt and he couldn't explain it.

As it washed over him, tears started rising in Snape's throat again, but he shoved all of his feelings back down with every bit of energy he could muster—he would rather die than let Harry Potter see him like this. As it was, he wasn't sure he'd ever be able to look at his face again.

Harry could see the emotion in his face, and he politely turned away and called for the house elf. "Tinny, please bring me Lord Kent's traveling cloak."

When Tinny returned with it, Harry thanked him and tossed it onto Snape's lap, deciding he'd have to be the one to lead them out of this situation.

"Get up. You're coming with me. Although you might do yourself and everyone else a favor and try to tidy yourself up first. You reek of whiskey and look like shit. Do a cleansing spell. Brush your teeth. Change your clothes. And when you walk into the Ministry, you'll do so proudly, with your head held high. You're Severus motherfucking Snape. You're a badass. A fucking war hero. One of the greatest wizards of all time—even if you've been acting like a complete arse."

"Watch it, Potter." Snape growled, giving him one of his signature looks even if his heart swelled slightly at his words. Some of them, anyway.

Harry knew he should probably heed the warning and stop there, but he was enjoying this little turnabout so much he couldn't stop himself. So he dug deep and schooled his face, gleefully repeating many of the words and phrases he'd heard so many times from Snape's lips that he could barely keep himself from grinning.

"Now if you're done having your little tantrum, you have 15 minutes to straighten yourself out so we can leave. And I better not hear any backchat or cheek from you either, I've heard enough nonsense from you today and I'm exhausted."

Snape stood up and towered over Harry, narrowing his eyes and putting on his most intimidating face. "I hope you enjoyed that little performance, Potter, but don't you dare think I will ever tolerate you speaking to me like that to me again. Whatever you think of me, I'm your elder and as your former professor and the person who's saved your reckless hide more times than you'll ever know, you will show me the proper respect." He loomed closer. "And let me be clear— I don't care if you fancy yourself the savior of the world, you will never be too old for me to teach you a lesson."

A smile cracked across Harry's face. "Ah, there you are. Good to see you, Professor."

"Wish I could say the same." Snape swept past him, but on his way up the stairs, he paused briefly to look over his shoulder. "And if I ever hear you use any of those vile curse words again, particularly in relation to me, I will cast a mouthsoaping spell so strong you'll still be tasting washing-up liquid on your 100th birthday."

"Sorry, sir. Although maybe you ought to try casting one on yourself." Harry motioned to his teeth, scrunching his face up in disgust. "Not sure a simple tooth brushing is going to be enough to do the job right now."

Snape grumbled and turned around, flicking his wand lazily behind him as he mounted the remaining steps.

Before Harry could revel in getting the last word, a book flew off of Snape's table, smacking him soundly on the back of the head.

"Oi!" He exclaimed looking up to the stairs, rubbing the back of his head as Snape disappeared into the East Wing without looking back. "That bloody hurt." Lowering his voice to what he thought was a whisper. "Sadistic, greasy git."

And without warning, the book gave him a second whack. "Ow!"

"Mind your cheek, Potter." Came a distant voice from upstairs.

As Snape dressed himself (taking extra care to put some effort into his personal hygiene), he took one last look in the mirror.

This was it. The last time he'd stare into the mirror as Lord Kent, soon he would be Severus Snape again. Ugh.

He scowled at his reflection briefly before attempting to remember why he was doing this and then he lurched toward the toilet, dry-heaving painfully several times, his stomach completely empty.

He slid down onto the cold stone floor and hugged his knees, imagining poor Soren alone in St. Mungo's after everything he'd been through, hoping it wasn't too late.

Closing his eyes, he leaned back against the wall, praying that Soren would be alright and that after all of this he'd still want to come home. Snape swore he'd be better. He put his promises out as offerings to the universe— he'd spend far more time with the boy, he'd take him somewhere special like he promised, and he'd make more of an effort to be patient and attentive. He'd even try his best to show him more love and affection, even if he didn't always know how. Oh god, please let him be OK. Please.

Snape could have spent hours bargaining with the gods, but he knew he had to get himself together. So he pushed himself off the floor and spelled his clothes again while splashing cool water on his face. Even though he'd already brushed his teeth once, he loaded his toothbrush with twice the amount of toothpaste and ran it through his mouth one more time for good measure, following it up with a minty breath spell just in case. Damn you, Potter.

Once again, he stared at himself in the mirror, this time speaking affirmations to himself in a most uncharacteristic way. "You are Severus moutherfucking Snape. You are not afraid of silly Ministry fools. You are powerful. You are worthy, and you will not fail your son again. Soren need you."

His hand reached up subconsciously to caress the silver vial around his neck, now spelled invisible to everyone else. He hoped he wouldn't have to use it, but in the event he was sent off to Azkaban or found himself being tortured, he'd at least have one last choice.

Feeling far more empowered than he had in a while, he returned to the parlor.

Harry looked up from the sofa, setting his tea down with a satisfied nod. "Much better, sir."

"I hardly need your approval, Potter." Snape snatched his cloak off of his chair and sat down. "I know it's your usual manner to run headlong into situations without thinking, but I think it would be prudent to have a plan first."

"We'll go together. I'll tell them it was all my fault, convince them that you're innocent. They'll listen to me."

Snape stared at him like he was the stupidest person on earth. "Don't be absurd, you'll do nothing of the sort. You will not martyr yourself on my behalf. I refuse to involve you and have your reputation tainted or worse, risk you having career and legal repercussions when you have a child imminently on the way. I'll manage it myself."

An odd look passed over Harry's face, was Snape…trying to protect him? Perhaps it shouldn't feel so surprising, the man had spent years of his life doing that for Harry— but it was the first time ever he'd ever heard Snape overtly speak his intentions in a way that made him feel like it was something he wanted to, not that he was forced to do out of obligation and duty.

"But sir—"

A hand flew up and Snape gave a strong shake of his head. "It's not your job to protect me, Potter. You've done enough. Far more than I deserve. I've made my decisions and mistakes and now I need to face the consequences. I'm certainly more than capable of handling myself with those half-wits from the Ministry. And I'll thank you to keep yourself out of it."

"I don't know if I can…" Harry hesitated sheepishly.

"Meaning what," Snape said with an ominous tone.

"I sort of filed some false documents when I brought Soren here." Harry gave Snape an uneasy smile, before mumbling "and I might have altered a memory or two."

Harry's ears burned with the confession and he couldn't meet Snape's gaze.

Snape's eyes darkened. "You did what?"

"I did what I had to do, no one would have ever known if his name hadn't shown up on that stupid new children's register as Soren Snape. I didn't know that would happen!"

Harry was attempting to defend himself, but he felt like he was 12 years-old again, bracing himself to be admonished harshly.

"What on earth were you thinking, Potter! Forging Ministry documents and unauthorized use of memory charms are crimes, you could lose everything, you know that—and for what!"

"Because Soren needed to be with you. When I found him, I was blown away by what an extraordinary boy he is. He was so clever and kind, and he could already do some simple spells. At barely seven!"

"Ah yes, his talent is quite apparent to all of us now. Particularly after he nearly burned down the manor." Snape groaned and closed his eyes at the memory, the parental fear he felt then suddenly paling compared to what he was feeling now.

"No, but he's really gifted, and I knew he'd be the best version of himself if he grew up with you."

"Presumptuous, as always."

Harry paused and dropped his voice to a near whisper. "He's just like you, you know. Just more…innocent. I thought he deserved to be with his real father, to know who he really is, to grow up surrounded by someone who would love and protect him but also challenge him and support him to become the amazing wizard I know he'll be one day."

"Yes, I've clearly done a brilliant job protecting him, haven't I?" Snape shook his head, trying not to be moved by Harry's intimate words, conflicted because he couldn't fathom why Harry would take these kinds of risks for him. "That was a stupid thing to do, Potter. Surely there was a better way to go about it, but of course, you always think you know better. The rules somehow never apply to you."

The more he sat with it, the more perturbed Snape became, but this time it was coming from a place of concern for Harry, not contempt. He was reacting as a parent would, upset that Harry had put his own life at risk without thinking things through.

"Did you even take a single moment to think that decision through? It could have lasting consequences for your life, Potter! Altering memories? Absolutely reckless behavior."

Snape reached up to grab the bridge of his nose, breathing before he continued on his tirade, Harry looking far more like his teenage self as he withered under Snape's harsh words.

"Although I don't know why I'm shocked, you never did have any respect for the rules as a child, so there's no reason to think you would now. I swear to Merlin if I thought you'd learn anything, I'd take my ruler and smack some sense into you." Snape clicked to himself in disbelief. "Completely irresponsible."

With his head hung down, Harry looked at Snape from the top of his eyes, warmth spreading over him, knowing this harsh scolding was coming from a place of paternal care, something he'd experienced very little of in his life.

"I did think about it, but I knew I was doing the right thing. And for what it's worth- I'm glad I did it. I just wanted everyone to happy…I wanted Soren to have what we never had." He let his voice trail off in a whisper.

Snape rolled his eyes, resigning himself. "Don't get overly sentimental on me now, Potter. What's done is done. It won't be pleasant, but there's no other option."

"I'm going to come with you. We're in this together," Harry said, bravely.

"You are not, Potter. You are going home to your pregnant wife, and you're going to leave this to me."

Harry shook his head. "No. I'm coming, and you have no authority over me anymore. I'm an adult now, I can make my own choices."

Snape put on his deep professor voice and leaned toward Harry. "Mr. Potter, I am not asking you. I am telling you. And you will obey me—not because you have to, or because I have any authority over you, but because you respect me enough to trust that I am doing this for your own good."

"But sir—"

"No." Snape put a hand up, interrupting him. "And if you argue with me again, I will put you in a body bind, floo you back to your living room, and let you explain your asinine plan to your pregnant wife so she can deal with you properly. And I can imagine young Mrs. Potter is a far more terrifying proposition than whatever I could dream up for you. Now, behave and do as you're told for once in your blessed life."

It always amazed Harry how Snape could still make him feel like an errant child despite the fact that he was a high-ranking Ministry official, about to become a parent in his own right.

When Harry's face flushed slightly, Snape smirked. "You're afraid of her, aren't you? I knew I liked the girl, one of the only tolerable ones of the Weasley brood."

"Oh for sure," Harry said with an embarrassed laugh, his cheeks pinking again slightly. "You think you know how to dress someone down, well you've never heard Ginny. She's absolutely terrifying."

"Good. At least one of you will be able to reign in your chid. You certainly don't have the constitution for it."

Slightly offended, Harry sat up. "Hey, I got you up and out of your chair, didn't I? I'd say I did a pretty good job getting you back in order."

Snape scoffed. "You always were disappointingly satisfied with your own mediocrity, Potter. I merely acquiesced out of pity. But if you're going to try to scold someone properly, you're going to have to work on your delivery. Far more authority in your voice. And a much sterner face, you nearly smiled at least three times, it was bordering on comical."

"I did not!" Harry was having a hard time keeping in his smile.

"I know discipline has never been your strong suit, but if you don't figure it out, your little sprogs will walk all over you, and once again poor Hogwarts will be subjected to yet another generation of arrogant, rule-breaking, disrespectful Potter brats. I shudder at the thought of it"

Snape sighed dramatically.

"My kids will be perfectly well-behaved, thank you. Just like me."

Snape raised an incredulous eyebrow. "Really? I have neither the time nor energy to even begin to address that ridiculous comment."

"I wasn't that bad."

"Oh Potter, I aspire to your level of delusion, truly. But just so you know, when you inevitably have a gaggle of ginger-haired heathens wreaking havoc in a few years, remind them that if they don't behave, they could always be sent to your former Potion's Professor. But do make sure you exaggerate all of the ways I tortured you in your youth. I'd like to maintain my diabolical reputation for future generations."

Harry laughed. "I can just imagine, a whole weekend of writing lines, scrubbing cauldrons, macerating flobberworms. Ah, the memories."

"It was character building, Potter. Not that it ever made a lick of difference in your behavior. Once again, I lament that the sorting hat robbed me of the chance to mete out proper discipline."

"Well done sorting hat for saving my arse!"

"Indeed." Snape stood, putting on his cloak and reigning in his focus having delayed the unpleasant tasks ahead quite enough. "Now go home, Potter. Eat something. Rest. Spend some quality time with your wife. Your life is about to change drastically— so enjoy your peace while you have it. Nothing will ever be the same again."

"Thanks, but I'm not sure I should be taking life advice from you at the moment," Harry gave him a mischievious smile.

"Right. I've warned you about your cheek!" He pulled out his wand and directed it toward the book on the table in a mock threat.

Harry put his hands up to block his head."I'm kidding, I'm kidding!" Harry chuckled. "OK, I'm going! But for the record I still have a headache from the last time that book attacked me."

"And yet, you still felt the need to sass me. Proof once more you're beyond intervention. Now off you go." Snape buckled the clasp on his cloak and gave Harry a dismissive wave toward the fireplace.

"Are you sure you'll be OK?" Harry looked at him, concern showing in the small creases of his face. "Send for me if you run into any trouble. Please?"

"I'll be fine, Potter."

"No. Promise me. Swear it."

"I said I'll be fine. Trust me." Snape clicked his fingers toward the fireplace. "Into the floo. Now."

Harry reluctantly followed Snape to the hearth, hoping he wasn't making a grave mistake leaving him on his own. "I really can help, you know."

Snape reached up for the floo powder, bringing it down for Harry before speaking to him firmly. "Look at me."

When their eyes met, Snape stared at him sternly, but with a hint of real care Harry had craved his whole life. "Are you going to listen to me and do as I say or do I need to hold your hand like a toddler and take you home myself?"

"I'll go home. I promise."

"And you'll stay there. And not do anything stupid."

"I'll stay there. I won't do anything stupid."

With a firm nod of his head, Snape replied. "Good."

The two of them stood there for a few seconds, Harry lingering with a fistful of floo powder in his hands, looking around awkwardly before he spoke. "I just want to say I'm sorry for the way everything has turned out. I really did everything I could to keep your secret safe, to keep your new identity intact. And even if you're mad at me now, I still don't regret bringing Soren here. He needs you."

Tears welled in Harry's eyes and he waited for Snape's scathing response.

But instead, Snape put a firm but gentle hand on his shoulder. "I know, Potter."

"And hopefully, one day, you'll be happy Soren's a part of your life and this will have all been worth it."

"One can only hope for the best." It was all Snape could manage right now, even though he already knew in his heart Soren was the greatest gift he'd ever received. But he was nowhere close to admitting that right now, not even to himself. Much less Harry Potter.

Snape gave Harry's shoulder a firm but reassuring squeeze. "And I'm aware of all you've done to help me. Most of this debacle is your fault, anyway, but I appreciate your effort nonetheless."

Harry gave a small laugh, wiping one small tear from his cheek as he did so.

Unwilling to indulge in any more emotion, Snape grabbed Harry's arm and spun him sharply toward the fireplace. "Now be gone with you. I've had enough Potter nonsense over the last few days to last me ten lifetimes."

"Yes, sir." Harry smiled. He was about to throw the floo powder in when he gave into his impulses, and wrapped his arms around Snape in a hug so brief, the man didn't even know what was happening before Harry had jumped into the floo and disappeared.

Snape was left stunned, but he didn't have time to think on it now, that entire exchange was something he'd have to unpack another day. Right now he needed to get to Soren, and just pray it wasn't too late.

Smoothing down his travel cloak, he called for Tinny.

"Yes, sir?"

"I have to leave the manor for an important matter, the result of which I do not yet know. Hopefully, I will be back soon, however, if you do not hear from me or see me again, or Mr. Potter comes with bad news regarding my whereabouts, I've left all of my important documents, including my will and a letter in my top desk drawer. Please see that Mr. Potter gets this. Do you understand?"

"Oh no! Where are you going? Please don't be doing something dangerous! Don't leave me!" Tinny was full on sobbing.

"I have no choice, Tinny, I need to go rescue Soren and I will explain everything properly when I'm back." He gave the elf a reassuring pat on the head. "Now that's enough tears. I'm sure I'll see you soon."

And with that, Snape swept out his door, walking several hundred feet into the cool morning mist, before disappearing with a pop.

Author's End Notes:

Hope you enjoyed it! It's been amazing seeing everyone still interested in reading this story, so thank you for your lovely comments! I apologize for throwing another heavily angsty chapter at you- but this is where we are right now in our story! But I hope you enjoyed a bit of Harry/Snape banter at the end.

But we've still got some work to do with Marie gone now. So much fun ahead for everyone!