Cokeworth, England. Hospital
Severus lay in silence, drifting between wakefulness and sleep as Mrs. Evans and Mrs. Johnson sat by his side, speaking in hushed tones. Their words blurred into a gentle hum that seemed to soothe him, a rare feeling he couldn't remember experiencing before.
Hours passed in a strange calm, a fragile peace that felt foreign to him. When he finally managed to open his eyes again, the room was dimly lit, and he saw Mrs. Evans sitting beside his bed, her head resting on her hand, half-asleep. Mrs. Johnson must have left sometime during the night, but her warm presence still lingered in his mind.
Noticing him stirring, Mrs. Evans immediately sat up. "Severus," she murmured, her voice filled with relief. "How are you feeling?"
He swallowed, his throat still raw. "Better, I guess."
She nodded, the lines of worry still etched on her face. "Good. I know the officers… they put you in an impossible position. But you don't have to go with those people, Severus. Not if you don't want to."
He looked down at his hands, unsure of what to say. He wanted to believe her, to feel safe with her words, but doubt clawed at him. He was basically mortal enemies with her daughter now, after all. "No. I wanna be with my blood."
Mrs. Evans's expression fell, and a shadow crossed her face. "Severus, I understand that this is a lot to process. But those relatives… they might not be the family you think they are."
He raised his head, meeting her gaze defiantly. "They're my family. I don't care what you think. I don't care if they're strangers. They're mine."
She took a deep breath, clearly trying to keep her composure. "I understand your anger and your desire for connection, but please, consider what you're saying. You're still hurting, and those wounds might lead you to make choices you'll regret later."
Severus felt the weight of her words, but the longing to reclaim any semblance of his heritage pushed him forward. "You don't know them. You don't know what it's like to be alone like this."
Mrs. Evans's eyes softened with understanding. "You're right. I don't. But I do know that family isn't just blood; it's the people who care for you, who want to see you thrive. And I'm one of those people. You don't have to fight this battle alone anymore."
His heart raced as he wrestled with the turmoil inside him. He was torn between the longing for the family he barely knew and the undeniable connection he felt with the two women standing by him.
Before he could respond, Mrs. Johnson returned, her presence as warm as ever. "How are you doing, dear?" she asked, her voice soothing.
"I'm fine," Severus replied, the words coming out harsher than he intended. "Just fine."
Mrs. Johnson exchanged a worried glance with Mrs. Evans, who nodded slightly, as if reassuring her that they would talk later.
"Now, don't you fret. We've been talking with the officers, and they're going to make sure you get the care you need," Mrs. Johnson said gently, placing a hand on his shoulder. "You're going to be okay."
Severus felt a swell of gratitude toward her, even as Mrs. Evans's presence began to feel stifling. It was as if Mrs. Johnson could read his mind; she glanced at Mrs. Evans before turning back to him with a soft smile. "Don't you think it's time for you to head on out? Your husband must be worried."
Mrs. Evans's brows furrowed, and her expression shifted from concern to indignation. "I'm not leaving him here alone! He needs support, and right now, I'm the only one who can provide that."
"Support is important, but sometimes it's just as vital to give someone space to process everything," Mrs. Johnson replied, her voice calm yet firm. "He's been through so much already, and maybe he needs a little peace right now."
Severus shifted slightly, feeling the weight of their conversation pressing down on him. He could sense the tension rising between the two women, each trying to assert their role in his life.
"I'll be fine," he managed to say, his voice quiet but steady. "I just need some time to think."
Mrs. Evans took a step back, her expression softening but still guarded. "Severus, please. I only want what's best for you."
"Yeah" he replied, his heart heavy with the unspoken words. "But I'm not letting you decide what's best for me. This is my life and I shall make the choices."
Mrs. Evans hesitated for a moment, her expression conflicted, but eventually nodded. She grabbed her purse, glancing back at Severus with a look of worry and resignation before making her way to the door. Just as she reached for the handle, the door swung open, and the group of officers returned. This time, they were accompanied by an older woman who emanated an imposing aura.
Severus straightened instinctively as he looked at her. She was dignified and cold, her slicked-back hair twisted into a tight bun at the nape of her neck. Her coat, heavy and dark, looked to be real fur, and her expression carried the unmistakable air of someone with an old, elite family name.
The woman surveyed the room, her gaze falling on Severus with a calculating glint. She stepped forward, her heels clicking sharply against the tile floor. "Severus Snape, I presume?" Her voice was low, smooth, with a hint of an accent he couldn't quite place.
Severus swallowed, nodding warily.
The officer leading her in cleared his throat, glancing between the two. "This is Miss Irina Lance. It appears you have some family ties on your mother's side, and Miss Lance has come to… discuss those ties."
Severus's mind reeled. He'd barely heard anything about his mother's family, and certainly nothing about anyone who looked like this. The woman—Katarina—observed him for a moment longer, then gave a brisk nod. "We have much to talk about," she said, not unkindly but without warmth.
Mrs. Evans stepped forward, her voice firm. "What exactly is it you want with Severus? He's not just some—some toy you can scoop up when it suits you."
Irina fixed Mrs. Evans with a steely look, her gaze cold and unwavering. "We do not know each other," she said, her voice smooth and clipped, "but I suggest you watch your tone."
The room went silent, and the air grew thick with tension. Mrs. Evans opened her mouth as if to argue but seemed to think better of it, casting a wary glance at Severus instead. He shifted uncomfortably, unsure of how to navigate the strange new reality unfolding before him.
Irina turned her attention back to him, her expression softening only slightly as she spoke to the rest of the room. "I'll need some time alone to speak with my grandson, leave us."
The room went silent, thick with tension. Mrs. Evans opened her mouth as if to argue, but the determined look in Severus's eyes stopped her short. She cast him one last, wary glance, her hand lingering on the door handle before she finally relented and stepped out, ushering Mrs. Johnson and the officers along with her. The soft click of the door closing left Severus alone with the imposing woman who called herself his kin.
Irina's gaze swept over him, sharp but assessing, as if she were taking stock of every fracture, every bruise. After a long pause, she settled herself into the chair beside his bed. Her expression softened, just barely, but her voice carried the weight of steel. "You must understand, Severus, we are strangers by circumstance, but bound by blood. And blood, in our family, means something."
Severus's jaw tightened, anger simmering beneath the surface. "You're here because of blood?" he said, his voice dripping with disdain. "After all this time, you suddenly show up just because I share it?"
Irina exhaled, pulling a sleek wand from within her coat. "We didn't know you existed until recently. Your name appeared on our family tapestry the moment Eileen's—my daughter's—faded." With a simple flick of her wand, the cut on his cheek sealed over, as if it had never been.
He watched her closely, raising an eyebrow. "So, even if I was a squib, you'd still have no issue using magic around me?"
Irina adjusted her coat, letting out a resigned sigh. "I went to the morgue to say goodbye to my daughter. After hearing what you told the Muggle authorities and examining their bodies myself…" Her voice dropped, an edge of certainty in her tone. "I know the signs of the Killing Curse, Severus. Your mother was gone before he fell."
His eyes narrowed as he tried to read her expression. "And what do you plan to do with that knowledge?"
Irina stepped closer, resting a gentle hand against his cheek. "Eileen was blinded by love," she said softly, her voice laced with regret. "It was never about him being a Muggle—we were concerned with the way he treated her, as though she were nothing more than an insect beneath his boot. I tried to pull her away, but… she was in love."
Severus knew all too well the force of his mother's devotion to Tobias, how she'd defend him even when he became violent, brushing it off as part of love's complexities. He'd heard it countless times, her assurances that he'd "come to understand it one day."
Irina's voice broke through his thoughts, her eyes glistening with a rare vulnerability. "She hid you from our tapestry, using a spell created just for that purpose. I believed nothing good could ever come from that marriage… but now, I see I was wrong. One good thing did come of it. You."
Severus's throat tightened, caught off guard by the unexpected tenderness in her voice. He had braced himself for judgement, for reproach, maybe even indifference. But there was something else here—something that felt disturbingly close to acceptance.
He looked away, staring hard at the wall as he tried to absorb her words. "You don't even know me. You didn't know anything about me until days ago. So why… why do you care?"
Irina withdrew her hand, letting it fall to her side. "Because, Severus, you are my blood. Whether I knew of you or not, that will always be true. And I cannot stand by and let you bear this weight alone. Not when you have family to lean on."
He turned to her, frustration boiling up. "Family?" The word tasted bitter on his tongue. "You think saying that now changes anything? I've been alone my entire life, waiting for someone to care. Now that my mother's dead, it's convenient to call me family?"
She took a deep breath, clearly struggling to keep her composure. "I cannot change the past, Severus. But I am here now. If you allow it, I would like to a grandmother."
The silence between them thickened, each word left unspoken, a silent battle of doubt and tentative hope. Finally, he muttered, "Okay."
Irina's tense expression softened, and a rare smile spread across her face. "Welcome to the Malkov family, dear boy." She leaned down and pressed a kiss to his forehead, a warm gesture that felt both foreign and oddly comforting.
"Malkov?" He blinked, confusion written across his face. "But… the officer said your last name was Lance."
A small, knowing smirk tugged at her lips. "You'll learn soon enough, Severus. In our world, names are like masks. You wear what's needed, when it's needed." Her voice dropped, taking on a secretive tone. "And you'll need to wear quite a few. Just wait until you meet the others."
He felt a shiver crawl down his spine. There were more of them—more like her, like him. For the first time, a door seemed to open to a life he hadn't known was even there.
"Others?" he asked, his mind flickering with images of who these people might be—powerful, cold, maybe just as guarded as Irina. He imagined faces as sharp and imposing as hers, people who would likely judge him, question his worth.
Irina's smile grew, a glint of pride in her eyes. "Yes. Our family is… vast. You'll have cousins, distant relations who have lived lives you can't even begin to imagine. But they're still family, and blood matters more than you might think."
Severus swallowed, unsure of what to say. A part of him wanted to pull away, to escape before he found himself trapped in some twisted legacy. But another part—a small, curious part—wondered what it might be like to belong to a family that didn't turn its back on him, that saw his existence as something precious, something they wanted to protect.
"So, when do I meet them?" He managed to keep his voice steady, though he felt a tremor in his hands.
"In due time," she replied, her tone cryptic yet certain. "For now, you'll need to heal and prepare. Our world is demanding, Severus, and it shows no mercy to those who are unprepared."
He watched as she reached into her purse and pulled out some papers, the crisp sheets fluttering slightly in her grasp.
"These," she said, placing them in his lap, "are your heirship papers. Sign them, and I'll arrange for you to move in with us. I, your grandfather, and your aunts and uncles. Don't worry; we have a big house for all of us."
Severus stared down at the papers, the words blurring momentarily as doubt washed over him. "Heirship? What does that even mean?" He could feel the weight of her expectations pressing down on him, the implications of what it meant to be part of a family that had long been a mystery to him.
"It means you belong, Severus," she said softly, her voice holding a gentle authority. "It means you have rights, a place in a lineage that stretches back generations. You can finally have the life your mother tried to shield you from."
He hesitated, his fingers tracing the edges of the papers. "What if I don't want it? What if I don't want to be part of this… this world?"
Irina's expression shifted, her smile fading slightly as she regarded him with a mixture of understanding and determination. "You've been through so much, but this is your chance to reclaim what was taken from you. You don't have to be alone anymore. Think about it, Severus. A family that knows your worth, that recognizes you. Isn't that worth considering?"
The words echoed in his mind, stirring a hope he had long buried. Still, the fear of the unknown loomed over him like a dark cloud. "I need time to think," he murmured, pushing the papers away slightly, though he could feel her gaze urging him to reconsider.
"Take all the time you need," she replied, her tone now softer, almost maternal. "But know this: I will be here, waiting. You are not alone in this. When you're ready, those papers will still be here, waiting for your name."
As she stood to leave, a weight lifted slightly from his chest. For the first time, he felt a flicker of possibility—a chance to forge a new path, away from the shadows of his past.
"Wait," he called out, his eyes trained on the paper as he signed his name. "I wanna go home."
Irina paused, turning back to him with a mix of surprise and concern. "Already? I thought you wanted to think this over?"
He shook his head, determination hardening his features. "No. I'm done waiting for a sign that's never gonna come. I wanna go home. I wanna be a Malkov."
Her brow furrowed, and for a moment, he wondered if he had made a mistake. But the fire in his chest pushed him forward. "You don't understand. I've been waiting my whole life for something to change, for someone to care. I don't want to keep living in the shadows of my past. I want to belong somewhere."
Irina's expression softened, and she took a step closer, her voice dropping to a gentler tone. "You do belong with us, Severus. But it's a big step to take. Are you sure you're ready for everything that comes with being a Malkov?"
He nodded fiercely, the words tumbling out before he could second-guess himself. "I'm ready. I want to know my family, I want to understand who I am. I'm tired of being just the weird kid with fucked up parents.. I want to be part of something real."
"Then you'll need to embrace the change, Severus. It won't be easy, but it's necessary." She offered him a small, encouraging smile. "If you're truly ready, I can start the process to get you moved in with us right away."
"Do it," he said firmly, his heart racing with the gravity of his choice. "I'm tired of being afraid. I want to face this head-on."
Irina's smile widened, and for the first time, Severus felt a flicker of excitement. "My darling boy, so much like your mother. There will be so much waiting for you."
"Like what?" he asked, curiosity pushing through the remnants of his apprehension.
"Family dinners, laughter, and a home filled with love. You'll meet your aunts and uncles—trust me, they can be a handful, but they're good people. And your grandfather… well, he can be a bit gruff, but he has a heart of gold." She paused, gauging his reaction. "It'll be different from what you've known, but that doesn't mean it can't be good."
Severus felt a warmth spread through him at the thought of family—real family. "I've never had that before."
"And now you will," Irina said, her voice steady and reassuring. "You've taken the first step by signing those papers. The rest will follow, and I'll be right beside you."
He took a deep breath, allowing himself to feel the weight of what lay ahead. "Okay, I'm in. Just… just promise me I won't lose myself in all of this."
"Promise," she assured him, a hand resting on his shoulder. "You'll still be Severus. We'll make sure of it."
Feeling a sense of resolve blooming within him, he nodded again, ready to embrace whatever came next. The future felt uncertain, but for the first time, it didn't feel entirely bleak. Maybe—just maybe—he could find a way to forge his own path amidst the tangled history that had shaped him.
"Let's get started, then," he said, a flicker of determination igniting in his chest.