Let us begin…

Severus grits his teeth against the fury that bubbles up with in him.

As a child he had been an unwanted burden on a detached dreamer of a woman and a violent mill worker. He knew all about neglect, abuse and being made to do as others wished through affection or force.

At a young age he learned to turn the trials he faced into a learning experience. From the teasing of the children at school and the punches his father liked to throw, to the way his mother flittered about in her own world withdrawing from her lavish fantasy to dangle the carrot of her approval and affection before him or his father. Everything was absorbed, processed, analyzed and retained.

He understood that men were cruel and self interested.

He understood that women used their natural lure as a weapon.

He understood that there were no guarantees in life.

He understood that the only one you could safely rely on was yourself.

What he couldn’t understand was how someone would leave a toddler in a dumpster.

It was fortunate that he was chosen to discard today’s garbage, none of the scientist would have given the cry a second notice. Their perception of the word was solely through the numbers and chemical bases that they worked so hard on a daily basis.

Severus huffed as he lifted the child into his arms.

The baby was light-- just shy of four kilos. Upon closer inspection he realized the child was clothed in a dirty blue layette, an embroidered baby blanket and a decidedly smelly nappy.

“Well I guess I should get you home.” Long thin fingers slipped through the soft cowlicks and curls of the baby. For the first time the child’s frantic cried began to subside and lower to exhausted moans and the occasional sob. “Don’t worry I’ll get you settled for the night. Tomorrow we’ll head down to the police station…”

It took a little over an hour and a half; a trip to three convenience stores and a pharmacy, accompanied by several angry looks until Severus and the baby were tucked away in the dingy studio apartment.

The walls were a dingy yellow, the dripping sink echoed in the narrow space accompanied by the hum of the ancient green refrigerator. There were two tall wooden stools that sat beneath the old ugly brown counter. There were a few small cabinets covered in faded and chipped steel blue paint. Three steps away from the kitchen area was a bathroom door and two steps beyond that lay the mattress. Pushed into the corner of the room under the pair of dirty curtain-less windows, blankets strewn haphazardly on one side, there was no pillow, only a bundled up wool jumper, six plastic tubs in varying sizes were lined between the wall and the bottom of the mattress.

It wasn’t much, but it was a damn sight better than living with his parents. To be honest it was pretty nice compared to some of the other apartments he’d seen in the price range of a nineteen-year-old student/intern.

Severus tossed the bags onto the counter and put the stopper in the sink while using the other arm to juggle the fussy baby. While the water collected in the basin he peeled the clothes off the child and tossed them on the floor.

When he pulled off the all in one nappy the putrid and nose-searing scent of feces permeated the room. “God damn kid? What did they feed you?” Severus muttered between gagging. “Ugh disgusting.”

He clumsily wiped the child down with the wipes he’s gotten from the convenience store and tossed the soiled wipes into a plastic bag along with the nappy. Once the worst of the mess was gone he placed the baby into the sink filled with warm water. The baby cooed and moved its hands through the water. Light squeals, babbles and murmurs showed the child’s pleasure of being bathed. Before the bath was complete the baby was peacefully asleep and looking quite cherubic with his soft pink cheeks and red bow lips.

Severus blew a few strands of hair out of his eyes as he carried the baby to the mattress and laid it there wrapped in his blanket—he had no towels, and went to retrieve the pack of disposable diapers he’d brought. It took about three tried but finally the diaper was on and the child hadn’t woken up.

“I’ve got to find some where for you to sleep.” The teenager muttered, running his hands through his hair before hurrying to the bathroom. Under the sink he pulled out the washtub and tossed the washboard to the side. “This will work.”

The old tin washtub was filled with any extra blankets until Severus deemed it soft and warm enough for the boy baby snoozing away on his bed. When he lifted the child his head lolled back awkwardly, but he didn’t wake as he was placed into the makeshift bassinet or when the tub was moved into the far corner of the bed where it would be stable against the walls.

“Hard parts over,” he murmured to himself as he looked over his shoulder at the mess of bags, soiled baby clothes and plastic bags. There want much that he brought, two bottles, wipes, formula and of course the diapers. It all fit in one of the several ugly cabinets.

Severus refused to use more than his fingertips to touch the filthy clothes as he deposited them into the same bag as the dirty nappy and wipes. AS he cleaned his eye wandered over to the elaborate blanket he’s found the child wrapped in. It really was nice, very soft very fine with intricate embroidery done in gold. The thread birds flowed into letters. Severus’ dark eyes narrowed as he read the name stitched into the blanket “Harry, god what a common name.” He’d clean the blanket in the sink, seeing as how his washtub was unserviceable at the moment.

With a flick of his wrist he sent the blanket into the sink. He’d wash it and keep it for the child. It was the only thing not covered in feces. He tied the bag and glanced around, everything was quiet and the baby was snuffing lightly in his sleep. All would be fine so left his apartment to visit the trash chute in the hall.

Midnight found Severus hunched over one of his old denim button ups with a thread and needle; for once he wasn’t patching up holes. This time he was sewing the bottom of the shirt closed and then stitching it twice over.

Severus held the make shift baby sack away from him to eye it critically. It wasn’t pretty but it would have to do, the kid couldn’t be taken out in only a few blankets. He tossed the shirt to the side and flopped back on to his nest of blankets and arranged them around himself carefully before reaching over and dragging the washtub over towards him and he covered it too, there was never any heat here.

--

Severus woke to the ear piercing wails of the child besides him. With a groan he reached a hand out and placed it on the child’s belly, surprisingly the cries teetered off to gurgles accompanied by the soft suction of the child mouth on his index finger.

Severus rolled onto his back and stared up through the window at the bright red sky. This was the time he normally woke up, but today was Saturday and that meant the he could sleep late—well that’s what it meant before he had gotten his little house guest.

--

The cries just wouldn’t stop. He tried the bottle of formula, he tried thin rice gruel he even tried some of his own cereal. The baby just refused them all screaming bloody murder. He had just been put in a clean diaper the kid didn’t seem to be hurt or cold.

“Please—shut up, shut up, shut up.” The young man whimpered as he bounced the baby in his arms. It had been the better part of three hours and still the child had yet to quiet. “Please baby—please Harry, stop crying! Stop please…” In all honesty he was five minutes away from joining the baby for a good cry. His head was pounding, he was tired and at a complete loss of what to do.

There was a sharp rap on the door, calling Severus’ attention. “If it’s that hag Umbridge I’ll tell her just where she can stick it.” came the thick snarl setting off a louder series of wails from the baby. With tears burning behind his eyes Severus rose to open the door.

He swung open the heavy metal door with an exhausted “What do you want.”

“Oh dear, I just came to see if you needed help. I’m Molly Weasley, I live above you.” She was about a head and a half shorter than him, with a poking obviously pregnant belly and a lavender housedress. Her red hair was tied back and away from her round face. She carried a toddler on her hip and had two more holding onto the hem of her dress. “Eh, may I come in?”

“I’m sorry,” he moved back quickly ushering her in. Severus, for all his faults had never been one to look a gift horse in the mouth. He bounced the crying child in his arms again.

Molly lowered the baby in her arm to the floor where he stood uncertainly before toddling over to his brother with shaky steps. “May I hold him?”

“Uh sure.”

She looked the child over raising an eyebrow at the improvised baby sack. “Laundry day?”

“Ah no, He was rather- an unexpected house guest.”

She opened the child’s mouth with an almost clinical touch, “He seems about 8 months or so. Not too far away from my Ron. Have you fed him?”

“I’ve tried he wont eat anything.” He motioned to the counter top where everything the boy rejected was laid out.

“Has he been weaned yet?”

“I don't know!” pulling his hair had been a nervous tick Severus had never been able to rid himself of, in fact he only realized he was doing it when Molly’s soft warm hand pulled his own thin fingers away.

“Don’t do that, love. Now it seems that you were put into a very unfortunate and unexpected position but I’ll help you.” For the first time in the last three hours Severus didn’t hear baby screams. He looked more closely at the woman before him the child latched onto one of her breast suckling greedily with almost audible gulps. “I need for you to tell me what’s going on so that I can help you the best that I can.”

Severus nodded as he sunk to the floor sitting with his legs crossed. “I got off from work yesterday and I had to throw out the garbage, I was the last to leave. I heard crying and I looked in the dumpster.” He was mildly surprised when one of the older red headed children made himself comfortable in his lap and began twisting his fingers in the thick curtain of Severus’ hair. “I saw him there. So I brought him home. I was going to take him to the police station after he ate but I’m starting to think that’s a bad idea is he’s not willing to drink from a bottle.”

“Yes, they’d send him to a group home. He wouldn’t get the care he needs at one of those places and foster families are difficult to come by for a child this young.” The woman—Molly, ran her fingers through the fine downy hairs on the baby’s head. “I used to be a social worker; I still have connections to the agencies. If you want I can set up the forms so you can care for him until his family is found, or he’s weaned off of breast milk.”

“Yeah? Alright.”

--

The first thirty days passed in a haze of red headed children, dirty nappies, anguished screams of the child who was reluctant to drink from a bottle, joyous coos that were made during baths or play time, classes, lectures and long hours at the institute. In that month only one meal had been replaced with the bottle of formula or jar of baby food.

This particular night Severus had walked up to the third floor and knocked on the door. It was late, almost nine—but he still had to pick up Harry. When he approached the heavy door with an Easter wreath on it he heard the piercing cries of the baby. He knocked hard, hoping that some one would hear over Harry’s screams.

He wasn’t disappointed; the eldest Weasley son opened the door and let him in. When he entered the living room the mindless shrieks stopped.

Severus watched fascinated as the little boy he’d dedicated so much time to squirmed in Molly’s arms to reach for him crying out “theb! Theb uh!” his leaf green eyes wet with tears and red rimmed, his chubby hands reaching out fingers curling every once and again in an attempt to draw the man near.

Molly turned towards her guest and smiled tiredly. This pregnancy wasn’t going as well as the others, she was only four months along and she was already put on strict bed rest. She could barely stand anymore, and yet she refused to let him take Harry to another sitter. “Hello Severus.”

“Good evening, Molly.” He reached out and tucked his hands under the child’s arms before lifting him up and holding him close, much to the baby’s delight. “Thank you, for looking after him.”

“It’s no problem at all Severus. He’s been quiet anxious to see you.” She said as she pulled her basket of yarn and knitting needles over and gestured to a chair across from her. “Have a seat, it will only take me a little bit to finish this one for Harry.”

Severus sat down and watched as Harry pulled himself up on his knees then used Severus’ shoulders to drag himself up into a semi standing position leaning heavily on the thin shoulders of his care taker. “Ah, good job Harry.” Though his voice was raspy and tired the sentiment was none the less sincere.

Apparently this was clear to the baby who giggled and cheered “theb.”

“And you learned a now word I see.”

Molly’s earthy chuckle traveled across the room. “Yeah, he’s gotten that from Ron.”

The toddler in question looked up from his coloring books for the first time and smiled at the dour man holding his friend. “’llo Theb.”

“Hello, Ron.”

“’arry cwy lunch.” The little one said angrily, waving an orange crayon at the man with all the out rage a thirteen month old could. He made several more out raged sounds before he could actually work out some more words “leef nau-ee theb!”

A matched pair of giggles came from either side of the recliner Severus was sitting in. Matching five year olds appeared before him. “Ron said Harry cried until lunch.”

“--and that you leaving was naughty.” The other twin interjected, causing his brother to glare at him. “Ha! I finished it!”

“I see.” Severus rested his chin on the crown of the small head on his chest. Not the least surprised when the chubby little arms encircled his neck. He was getting too attached.

---

June was balmy and the air was stagnant. The apartment was so hot that Severus had taken to leaving the door propped open with a triangle of wood and the windows up as his box fan tried its best to create a cool breeze. It was on the hottest day in June that Molly was taken in to the hospital. Her placenta had detached and there was nothing they could do but wait for it to heal itself under the watchful eyes of doctors. It was a gamble with high stakes but the Weasleys weren’t the type of people to quit.

Severus helped them pack the boxes into the truck that would take them to Arthur’s maiden aunt Muriel’s large country house. And even went to visit Molly before they moved her to another hospital.

The visit was rather short. Severus came on his break between classes, Harry on one hip and a few bars of chocolate. He stayed for about twenty minutes most of them quiet as Molly cooed over Harry and marveled at his new ability to toddle a few steps while clutching on to Severus’ pants.

“How are things Severus? Have you found a new sitter for while you’re at school and work?”

He shook his head and ran a hand through Harry’s hair with a sigh. “No; classes will be done in a week and I already took most of my finals. So I only go to take the tests. I manage to get him to sleep beforehand- thankfully and put him in the chair besides mine until I’m done. And the Doctors are all on expeditions in South America and near the Uganda looking for botanical specimens so I’m technically on leave.”

Molly nodded absent mindedly drifting off as the sun warmed her arms and face through the window. “How,” she paused to yawn, “is Harry eating now a days?”

“Decently I’ll say he’s eating anything so long as its sweet. Carrots, peas, grapes, porridge and toast as long as they have honey, and those--” When a light snore cut into his sentence the young man smiled slightly and collected his baby and back pack, Molly was tired and needed all the rest she could get before the move.

----

He was crying again. It wasn’t the hearty cried of hunger or the pitiful cries for attention. He wasn’t over heated, because under the layer of blanket were three frozen water bottles to keep the baby cool in the raging summer heat. This cry was new and weak and Harry lay so listlessly as if he was tired.

Severus watched the baby in his make shift cradle with discerning eyes. Maybe he needed to feed on just formula for a bit, He had been constipated lately—the child had refused to eat any thing but toast with honey for breakfast for the last eight days.

Severus retrieved the cooling bottle from the counter and tested the temperature as Molly had shown him on the inside of his wrist. It was just how Harry liked it just cool enough to drink with out being scalded but not cool enough to gulp down.

Careful not to jostle the baby Severus climbed onto the bed and propped himself up in the corner. He reached over and plucked the child out of the blanket and cooling pack lined washtub and settled the babe on his thigh so that his head was held in the crook of his elbow.

“Lets try this alright? Maybe you’ll feel better, hmm?” he murmured to the child hopefully as he looked at the baby’s heavy lidded eyes and pushed the nipple between the child’s lips.

---

Severus opened his eyes, he must have dosed off. The pins and needles sensation in his arm proved it. Dark eyes travels to the still full bottle propped near the child’s mouth. “You weren’t hungry?” he questioned lightly as he pulled the bottle away and took in the child’s face.

Harry’s big green eyes were covered by pale violet lids, his dark lashes fanned across those impossibly chubby cheeks that were usually ruddy and pink from play and laughter but were obscenely pale. His nose was running a bit and his lips were a pale blue just like the cadavers that he practiced on in cla--

“No.” The man pressed a hand onto the child’s chest trying to feel the tattoo of the little heart or maybe the even rise and fall of sleep. “No. Nonononono. No Harry wake up. Harry. Harry. HARRY!” Severus jostled the child in his arms and the babe just flopped to the side, arms lip and head lolling forward.

----

“Ah, Mr Snape?” Severus glared at the intern in the white lab coat. She was plain brown hair, brown skin brown eyes and nothing too fetching about her. She sighed and crouched down so that she was on level with him. She flicked her pen nervously. “Um how did you come to be guardian of Harry?”

“I found him screaming in a dumpster behind the Barlow University’s Experiment and Teaching Labs… is he okay?”

“Uh, wh-why didn’t you bring the baby to a precinct? Or the hospital.”

“Because he was breast fed and had to be weaned before I gave him to some place where there are too many children to take care of let alone devote special attention to so I applied for temporary guardianship—and it was obvious the parents didn’t want the kid anymore. Who the fuck leaves a baby in a dumpster!” Severus snapped angry and hostile as he recalled the filthy child he plucked from the trash. The baby who lay still and silent in his arms as he raced to the hospital in his sleep pants and loafers. “Look skip the fucking inquisition and tell me if he’s alright. Were you able to help him? He’s young… I’ll take care of him if no one else will. I have a job and a flat I’ve take care of him for the past three months. Wha-”

“Mr. Snape,” She was too calm to somber and completely unforthcoming in any answers. “How did you know his name was Harry?”

“That was what was embroidered on the blanket I found him in. Now just give me some god damn answers!”

“Harry’s parents are from three cities over. He was kidnapped along with several of their belongings; televisions, jewelry, furniture, money documents. They’ve been searching for him.” She whispered, gently.

His chest got tight and there was a loud buzz in his ears. It hurt. “They’re taking him back?”

“Well, they will be making funeral arrangements for their son.” The nurse said levelly. “He died of Infant Botulism.”

“What?” This was so wrong how could Harry have died. He didn’t know a thing about children but he tried his best. He kept him clean, fed, warm and engaged. In the three short months that he had Harry the focus of his world shifted from the text books and promises of intellectual greatness to the moon faced boy with bright green eyes who couldn’t pronounce his name. “He’s--” The words refused to come choking themselves off some where in his throat.

“Infant botulism comes from Botulism spores found in soil, in dust, on the unwashed surfaces of unpeeled fruits and vegetables and occasionally honey. The spores are tough to kill and can survive boiling for several hours. When babies swallow them, the spores can turn into growing, multiplying bacteria that creates poison called botulinus toxin. The toxin is absorbed in their intestines and causes infant botulism. Some cases of infant botulism are mild, but some are fatal. This was one of the fatal cases unfortunately.”

“Honey? Honey causes this?”

The nurse waved a hand in what she thought was a placating manner, “Don’t worry it doesn’t happen in children over one or adults, the spores are actually beneficial to out bodies and our bodies can break them down after we get older—like yogurt.”

Severus covered his face with his hands and tried to take in even a small breath. But it was to no avail. His lungs refused to function and his sight blurred around the edges.

This didn’t happen.

It couldn’t.

His father couldn’t have been right—he didn’t drag misery and bad luck around like an albatross.

But then again, here was the perfect example of it. He’d killed a baby. Not intentionally or knowingly—but still he killed a child.

He couldn’t even process another thought before the world around him pitched out of existence.

---

When Severus awoke it was to sobbing once more—but of a different kind.

The red haired woman at the counter was sobbing heart brokenly into her husband’s chest. He had his arms wrapped around her and his head pressed into her red hair. Two men stood barely an arms length away. The thinner man with brown hair was carefully wiping the face of his companion with a grave face. A short man tittered nervously between the couple the nurse at the desk and the two men off to the side.

When the woman lifter her head for a moment and opened her eyes Severus flinched and scrambled to leave the waiting room. Those green eyes—the last time he saw them was over the bottom of a warmed bottle.

He didn’t know their names—he didn’t want to.

*~*

The death of a baby is like a stone cast into the stillness of a quiet pool;

the concentric ripples of despair sweep out in all directions,

affecting many, many people.

--De Frain, 1991