Eight by Lily Elizabeth Snape
Past Featured StorySummary: Harry is eight years old and is sent to live with Snape. Will Snape ever lighten up enough to notice Harry's problems? Abused!Harry, Guardian!Severus, No slash.
Categories: Parental Snape > Guardian Snape Main Characters: .Snape and Harry (required), Dumbledore, McGonagall, Original Character, Other
Snape Flavour: None
Genres: Angst, Drama
Media Type: None
Tags: Child fic, Snape-meets-Dursleys
Takes Place: 0 - Pre Hogwarts (before Harry is 11)
Warnings: Abusive Dursleys, Alcohol Use, Physical Punishment Spanking, Neglect
Challenges: None
Series: None
Chapters: 21 Completed: Yes Word count: 37901 Read: 305310 Published: 20 Aug 2006 Updated: 13 Aug 2009
Chapter Twenty by Lily Elizabeth Snape

My head was buzzing and I had to make my legs be still. Surely he would shout at me for fidgeting soon.

“I thought you would appreciate having one of your presents now,” Godfather said as he was going down to the cellar. Presents! I was getting presents! And he had said ‘one of my presents,’ which had to mean there was more than one, didn’t it? What would he have for me there? Maybe another toy? Or a book?

His voice echoed as he ascended the cement stairs.

“It is not wrapped, as that would have been difficult . . .”

Then I could see it. I could see just what it was. This birthday was going to be like all the others! Why did I let myself hope?

………………………………………………………………………….

Little one’s face fell. He looked absolutely distraught by the time I was properly in the room. Was he afraid of heights? It hadn’t seemed so previously . . . he’d clambered up on the counters readily enough to clean out kitchen cupboards.

Was he becoming spoilt? Was he expecting a later model, perhaps? I’d only bought a training model, nothing fancy, for his first. Even so, the price was considerable. A damn sight more than I’d ever received for a birthday!

“Well if you don’t want it, I can return it, and you shall go without!”

………………………………………………………………………….

He threw the thing down, making a loud clatter. How could I have let my face show what I was feeling? I knew better than that! Been trained better than that! Stupid, stupid!

“I . . . I’m sorry, sir. Sorry! I like it v-very much, sir!” I smiled a very big smile as I began sweeping the kitchen floor with my new broom. Well, it was pretty old looking, but it was new to me. Then I noticed I’d let the floor get dirty. Perhaps that’s why I wasn’t getting a proper present!

And then he was laughing at me. Laughing at me again, like he used to. Sometimes Uncle Vernon would do this – be very nice to me so when he got mean again it would be even worse. His laughs tore tears from my eyes. I coughed, trying to cover.

“Child – Harry! Stop!” he said in a strange, breathless voice. “No wonder you seemed so forlorn. The broom is not for sweeping, you silly child. It is a training broom.”

I didn’t understand. He threw up his hands and continued, “For flying!”

………………………………………………………………………….

Poor child. I’d given him another fright with my horrid temper. He was still white as Sir Nicholas.

“I did not intend to frighten you. I see I’ve succeeded in doing just that.”

“Fl-flying, sir?” He was skeptical, hesitant.

“Yes, flying, not cleaning! Remember, you are a wizard, Harry.”

Instantly, it was as if a faerie fluttered in his chest.

Brightening, he asked, “Witches really do fly on brooms, sir?”

………………………………………………………………………….

Asked a question! Shouldn’t, but did, but he’s answering . . .

“Oh, yes, Harry. And wizards as well. Let’s be off. We can fly on Hogwarts’ Quidditch Pitch.”

Quidditch is real, like the Poppy Lady said?’

I caught that one before it escaped my lips. And he’d said Hogwarts, so I’d be seeing Dumblesdore most likely.

Why must we keep going back there?’

My Snape sprinted down the steps and retrieved a larger, but rather rattier, broom from the cellar. He took my hand, and in the blink of a squish-squashed eye, we landed outside the castle gates. To my relief, we did not walk toward the grand castle entrance, but headed over grassy hills until multicolored turrets with medieval flags rose before us. It was a huge field, with stands and hoops and I knew it must be real! I believed I would fly – here, today – now, on my best birthday!

Happy Birthday, Harry! You’re a real son now!

………………………………………………………………………….

In awe again was little one. I paused to gaze at his enraptured being before snapping back to all things practical and casting several privacy and warding charms. Merlin help anyone trying to spy today!

On impulse, I took off on my broom, feeling freer than I had since . . . perhaps freer than I’d ever felt. Harry let out an impressed, “Whoop!” carried to me on friendly warm winds. I touched down beside him, handed him the childproof-spelled Shooting Star, and began to explain. Before I was able to say two syllables, he was up, ecstatic and relaxed. He was a natural! We passed two hours, circling one another, weaving patterns, following and chasing. Regrettably, I realized it was nearing noon, and we’d best collect Poppy.

Little one smiled up at me and took my hand as we exited the pitch. However, once we neared the castle, he began to lag, just a bit, a look of apprehension clearly overtaking him.

“Shall we go about this a different way then, Harry? Would you like to fly with me up to the Infirmary window to fetch Poppy?”

His beaming smile nearly blinded me.

A heartbeat later, he was innocently tapping on the glass, which produced a screaming, huffing medi-witch. She vanished the window and gave me her best mother-hen glare.

I only smirked at her and said, “We’ll be apparating home in just a moment. Would you like to floo in shortly?”

She sighed, threw up her hands, and headed toward the fireplace.

“Think we can beat her there, Harry?”

He nodded fiercely, and we were off!

………………………………………………………………………….

It was a tie! The Poppy lady stumbled from the grate just as we popped back into the front room. She wasn’t dirty this time! That made me feel better.

“Happy birthday, Harry!” she said loudly, and grabbed me up in a big squeeze. It didn’t hurt this time! It was magnificent!

“So what have you planned, Severus?” she asked once she’d put me down. “I assume you have cake?”

“You would assume correctly, Poppy, and do stop glaring at me like an errant schoolboy!”

Presents, a party, and cake? Why were they doing this for me? I didn’t deserve it; of that I was certain!

………………………………………………………………………….

“Our muggle friend Grey should be here in half an hour. I have a feeling Harry should open your present now, Poppy, since it might be a bit odd to a muggle. Shall we have a seat?”

I never dreamed entertaining might be somewhat enjoyable when one possessed a dwelling of which he could be proud . . .

“I must say, Severus, you have outdone yourself. No-one would believe the crusty potions master had such a gift for decorating.” She was complimenting me?

The boy was hovering. My first thought was to ask him where he’d like to sit, but I quickly realized that was likely to throw him into a tizzy.

“Harry, have a seat on the settee with Poppy. She is going to give you her present,” I said, making the command as gentle as I could muster. The little one did not startle, so I assumed I’d done as intended.

His eyes were wide as saucers when Poppy extracted her tiny, pea-sized package, then enlarged it. She handed over a package wrapped in gold paper and green ribbons, saying again, softly, “Happy Birthday, Harry.”

He looked to me for approval, hesitant.

“Of course you may open it, Harry.”

Finally, he went about something in the manner expected of a small boy; the gold wrapping was ripped to shreds, ribbons discarded, in a wink. Once he came to the box, though, he stopped, suddenly horrified at the mess. He began tidying up rapidly, whimpering apologies. I banished the paper and knelt beside him, holding the box.

“Open it and see what’s inside,” I encouraged, nearly smiling.

After a moment of indecision, he lifted the top. His present hovered for a split second, then buzzed overhead, zipping this way and that. He was dripping with childish delight!

“Perfect choice, Poppy. Thank you.”

She waved away the thanks, but puffed up proudly nevertheless.

I had made the correct decision; this was definitely not a muggle-friendly present!

The End.


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