Along Came a Family by missyanne
Summary: Severitus-beginning between years four and five. Harry is overcome with guilt over the death of Cedric Diggory and has isolated himsef from those who care. A strange gift arrives on his fifteenth birthday that changes everything.
Categories: Parental Snape > Biological Father Snape > Severitus Challenge Main Characters: .Snape and Harry (required), Draco, Dumbledore, Hermione, Lucius, Remus, Ron, Sirius
Snape Flavour: None
Genres: Family, Hurt/Comfort
Media Type: None
Tags: Alternate Universe
Takes Place: 5th summer
Warnings: Abusive Dursleys, Alcohol Use, Profanity
Challenges: None
Series: None
Chapters: 37 Completed: No Word count: 179510 Read: 209678 Published: 06 Jun 2011 Updated: 29 Oct 2020
Steps in the Right Direction by missyanne

When the Headmaster paraded Potter into his chambers on a floating litter, from the apprehension on the boy's face, Severus could tell that he looked every bit as grim as he always had. But Severus could not help himself. Albus' message assured him that Po…Harry was no worse for wear but Severus felt as if he would jump out of his skin until he saw for himself that the boy was indeed safe.

Severus was not accustomed to a wide array of emotional responses. They usually ranged in a narrow gamut, from being generally pissed-off at someone or something, to breathing Dragon flames from his nostrils. Even at his best, Severus had always come across as rather stern and aloof. Severus had forgotten how to do 'concerned', all together. The only thing he could think to do was keep an iron grip on the back of his sofa to prevent himself from rushing his son and fussing over him, as if Severus had somehow managed to channel Poppy Pomfrey.

"Honestly, Potter," Severus paused momentarily as he called Harry, 'Potter.' It did not seem appropriate, but what else was he to call the boy?

Severus stepped over to the stretcher, picked Harry up effortlessly and carried the boy to the sofa. He was alarmingly light and thin for his age. "After all of the stunts that you pulled on that broom of yours earlier, one would think that you could land without breaking your neck."

Pot...Harry protested, "Oww!" Did the boy have to be so over dramatic? It wasn't as if Severus were manhandling the boy. "I did not break my neck…I was…Hey! It was you on top of the Astronomy tower!"

"I was not spying on you if that's what you are concerned about," Severus said dryly, trying to sound unaffected by the boy's accusatory tone. "It was merely coincidental." He placed the boy gently on the sofa, knelt down, and began his own diagnostic on Harry, hoping to change the subject and assure himself that the Headmaster had been correct.

When Severus finished his diagnostic, he tucked his wand up his sleeve and looked up bewilderedly at the Headmaster who seemed to hover over them. From the look on Albus Dumbledore's face, the Headmaster was taking some sort of odd pleasure in the exchange before him. Albus leaned into Severus' ear and whispered, "I believe that the spell is reversing."

Severus was becoming quickly irritated with the old man. "Is there anything I can do for you, Headmaster?"

"Nothing at all," said Albus. "I'll leave Harry in your capable hands, Severus." At that he gave his customary irritating wink, and then left.

Severus looked at Harry. "How tall are you Potter?" From habit, Severus had schooled his features around the boy, but it was obvious that Po...Harry, was unable to tell if Severus was genuinely concerned or mildly irritated.

"What, Sir?"

Now Severus was truly annoyed. He hated repeating himself. "I said," Severus enunciated slowly, "How-tall-are-you?"

The boy was a product of himself and Lily. Clearly he must have more brains than Neville Longbottom.

"Umm…162 centimetres…I think, Sir." The boy sounded somewhat embarrassed to announce his short stature.

"Wrong, Mr Potter. You are 170 centimetres."

Harry gave Severus a puzzled look…as if Severus had just sprouted a second head. Severus fought the old urge to retort with a disparaging remark. But if he was going to mend fences with his son, this night meant everything.

"You are having what is commonly known as a 'growth spurt', albeit an overly aggressive one," Severus said calmly as he silently summoned a potion from his private stores.

"A growth spurt?" The child sounded as though he were affronted by the notion. "Growth spurts don't hurt this much, do they?" Harry added with a slight waver of anxiety.

"They can if the bones grow too fast for the body to adjust. You have heard of 'growing pains' have you not?" Severus turned and deftly plucked a potion phial from where it floated before him, and handed it to Harry. "Drink this," he said, hoping it did not sound too much like an order.

Harry took the phial compliantly enough and popped open the cork. His nose wrinkled at the god-awful smell. "Ugh! What is it?" he asked as he attempted to hand the phial back to Severus.

Severus pushed the proffered phial back towards the boy. "Drink it—It is a potion to relieve the pain associated with over active hormone production." Severus smirked a little. "You have grown nearly eight centimetres over the course of three days. It is of no wonder you are unable to walk. In fact, I find it astonishing that you have been able to get yourself out of bed these past three days."

Harry looked at the phial and eyed it suspiciously. "Over active hormones, huh? I suppose you get a lot of that in a school."

Severus could feel the corner of his lip quirk at Harry's observation, but he suppressed the urge to openly smile. "You have no idea," Severus said dryly under his breath.

Harry raised his eyebrows looking at the phial. The action took Severus aback. Did the boy always possess such mannerisms? It was so much like his own.

"Here goes." Potter took a deep breath and downed the contents in one swallow, just as ordered. "God that's horrible!" He shook his head and wagged his tongue as if it would help to get rid of the taste.

"Flavouring tends to make most pain potions ineffective," said Severus unapologetically.

"Yes, I know," agreed Harry, "but it doesn't make taking them any easier."

Severus was stunned. He didn't think that Harry had paid attention enough in class to retain any real information.

Severus simply held out his hand, gesturing for the potions bottle. Harry handed it to him. "Uh…thanks," the boy said sheepishly. "I feel better already."

Severus looked away as he muttered a soft, "You're welcome." He felt slightly awkward. Social niceties did not fall from his lips easily. He arose and vanished the potion's phial away with a wandless and wordless spell. He started to head for the kitchen and asked his son, hoping he did not sound as nervous as he felt, "Have you eaten yet?"

"Uh… no," Harry said as he sat upright on the couch, now apparently free from pain. "Can you teach me how to do that…a wandless spell, I mean?"

"Perhaps," said Severus over his shoulder. He was going to the kitchen to make sandwiches for supper. He had opted for a light dinner rather than order full meals from the house-elves at such a late hour. Plus, the busy work would help to calm Severus somewhat.

The conversation with his son had gone surprisingly smoother than Severus had anticipated, but then again, they had thus far, managed to skirt around the subject that Severus knew was plaguing them both.

To Severus' astonishment, it was Harry who finally mustered up the courage to ask the first question.

Severus was too caught up in his task and his own musings to notice that Harry had followed him in the kitchen. "Did you go into the Pensieve?" the boy practically whispered from behind him. It was if Harry were almost afraid that Severus would actually hear the question.

Severus' head shot straight up from what he was doing. He inwardly thought he was lucky not to cut off his fingers from where he had been slicing tomatoes. Severus did not know what to say in regards to Harry's question, so he said the only thing he could—the truth.

"Yes."

The boy hesitantly pressed a little further. "Oh...Are you angry?"

Severus slowly turned and met Harry's emerald eyes. The boy's striking eyes were so much like Lily's. Severus could scarcely find the voice to answer, "Yes," once again.

Severus never showed his own pain as Harry turned his face away and it momentarily contorted in anguish. "Why?" Harry spat. "Because you found out that I'm your son!"

A part of Severus wanted to lash out at the boy for his accusatory tone, but Harry had every reason to accuse and none of this was the boy's fault. Severus' words still came out harsher than he intended when he answered, "Yes…but not for the reasons that you think."

Harry looked confused and tormented by conflicting emotions. He was inadvertently trying to protect himself by hugging his middle. Severus' own insides twisted at the site. It was a position that Harry seemed quite accustomed to and Severus wondered what all the boy was thinking.

Severus gave an exhausted sigh. He abandoned the sandwiches. He had lost his own appetite, and from the pale look on the boy's face, Severus doubted Harry was capable of holding down food at the moment.

Severus walked over to the kitchen table and pulled out a chair and said, "Potter…Harry," Severus still felt awkward saying the boy's Christian name aloud. He would have to get used to it. But it had the effect he hoped for because Harry had immediately opened himself up. The boy went from wrapping his arms around his waist to shoving his hands in his jean pockets.

"Please…sit," Severus said more evenly.

Harry hesitantly approached the table. His hands were still shoved deep in his pockets as he seemed to contemplate the chair. Severus was about to bark out to the boy that the bloody chair wasn't hexed, but Harry finally managed to sit. Severus then pulled out a chair for himself, and took his seat next to the boy. Severus noticed that Harry had turned his chair away slightly so not to be totally facing Severus. It was as tactic that Severus had often used himself when he cared little for what someone had to say, but was trapped into listening nonetheless.

"Harry," said Severus, felling totally unsure of how to broach the subject. "I am angry in knowing that you are my son..."

Harry looked over at him. "But you just said…"

"I know what I said," Severus said in a voice that was slightly reprimanding. Severus took a second to calm himself in an effort to sound more reassuring. He wasn't accustomed to having to reassure a child. He was used to admonishing them. "Now if you will be so kind as to let me finish. Yes, I am angry to find out that you are my son," Severus began slowly again. "But only for the simple reason that I just now found out after all of these years."

Harry was now favouring Severus with the same codfish impression the boy had greeted him with at Headquarters. It appeared that Severus' declaration was the last thing the boy expected to hear coming from his surly Potion's Master.

Gormless expressions always drove Severus barking. He pressed his lips together tightly in an effort to keep from telling Harry to shut his gob before he attracted flies. Severus closed his eyes as he tried to collect his thoughts. How am I ever going to do this, he wondered.

Severus decided that the best way to go about it was to simply tell the truth. He took a deep cleansing breath and exhaled breathily before he began. "Harry…I cannot deny that my treatment of you over these past four years has been deplorable."

Harry's eyes narrowed a bit. But to his credit, he remained silent and allowed Severus to continue.

"My reasons were personal," Severus continued, "and totally unjustified. Had I known about our relationship, I assure you…both of our lives would have been very different."

Harry's eyes widened again when it occurred to him what Severus was trying to say.

"I realise that it is an…inadequate apology. But it is nonetheless sincere." Severus hoped he sounded as sincere as he actually felt.

Harry looked intensely at Severus, and asked sceptically, "You mean that you would have been okay with being my father?"

Severus corrected him. "I mean that I am…'okay'…with being your father, but in all honesty, I don't think I would be a very good one."

Harry nodded slowly as he seemed to take in what Severus had said. Severus had never seen such an intense look on the boy, "Okay…I understand," Harry said bitterly. "You don't want to be my father. It's not as if I actually had one before now. It's not as if I would know what I'm missing."

Severus wouldn't have believed it if he hadn't heard it with his own ears, but Potter actually sounded disappointed.

"Excuse me," Harry said tersely as he arose from the table. "I know you wanted to begin this Occlumency thing tonight, but it's late and I really should be getting to bed."

"Harry, you misunderstand," Severus said exhaustively. The use of his son's Christian name again was enough to make the boy stop in his tracks. Apparently he wanted Severus to say something he had yet to say. Severus had no idea what the boy wanted to hear from him, but Severus spoke deliberately and honestly, "When I was with your mother, our greatest desire…my greatest desire…was to have a son. The ramifications of what we learned tonight go deeper than what I am comfortable disclosing right now. However, had I known at the time your mother…when Lily died…that you were mine, I would have taken you without question and damn the person who tried to stop me."

Every bit of regret Severus felt for the lost past, he saw flash in his son's emerald eyes and it took all of Severus' fortitude to continue. "Time and circumstances have changed me. I am a hard man, Harry, you know this. As it is, although as your Occlumency Master, I have guardianship over you, I don't know that I have what it takes to be a father to anyone. I am also a realist. We don't know each other well enough to know what type of relationship we can have. I know I hurt you, and I know I don't deserve your trust. But for now, all that I ask, is that we continue to go on as we have planned with the apprenticeship…and see what happens from there. Perhaps…we might surprise one another."

Severus wasn't certain if the look on the boy's face was that of acceptance or resignation, or perhaps a bit of both, but the boy silently nodded and said, "I guess I understand that," as he sat back down at the table. "But what are we going to do if I suddenly start to look like you?"

"We will cross that bridge when we come to it," Severus said in grave honesty.

Potter rubbed the corner of his eye under his glasses and sniffed. Severus never saw any errant tears, but he was certain the boy had been crying. It was enough to drive Severus mad inside to know that he caused this.

It was possible the boy really was just tired, though. Potter was right when he said it was late. The antique Black Forrest mantle clock that was perched over Severus' Floo had read 10:30 when Albus brought Harry to his chambers. There would be no time to begin Occlumency tonight.

Severus announced, "It's late, and we have yet to have supper…"

"I'm fine," Harry interrupted too quickly, then all at once looked apologetic for the interruption. "I'm not really all that hungry anyway," he said docilely.

Severus said authoritatively, "Nonetheless, you will eat. We can begin with Occlumency tomorrow. Go wash up and we'll just have sandwiches before bed."

Severus watched as his son arose, stretched, and plodded his way to the lavatory. Small wonder the boy had growing pains. Severus could swear Harry had grown since he left Albus' office, but he knew that must have been a play on the light. He wondered exactly how much Harry would change. When he told Albus of the charm, the Headmaster said that the changes could take anywhere from as little as a month to an entire year, depending upon how urgently the Magic felt the need to change.

Severus hoped the changes would be slow because they would not be as physically taxing on Harry. From the display Severus witnessed this evening, he doubted fortune would be so kind to the boy.

Then would come the explanations.

Once Harry's transformation became obvious, explanations would have to be made. With any luck, Harry would favour his mother over Severus. It would make life far easier on them both and an early death less likely for Severus.

Somehow…Severus doubted they would be very lucky about that either.


When Harry emerged from the loo after washing his hands and generally gathering his wits about him, he noticed Snape was still in the kitchen making sandwiches.

Harry could see the tension in the Potion Master's shoulders as the man stood over the counter slicing vegetables.

Harry still didn't know how to feel. In all honesty, he had halfway expected Snape to reject him. Harry was stunned when the man said he would have taken Harry away had he known the truth. Snape said their lives would have been different. Snape had wanted a son. He would have wanted Harry. That bit of information went farther to ease Harry's pain than he cared to admit. Harry wondered if Snape would have loved him, as well.

But that was neither here nor there. That chance at a happy life was long gone. Harry wondered if he and Snape were being given another.

Harry doubted they would have a chance. Even if he and Snape were both willing to give it a try, there were too many other forces working against them. Not the least of which—Snape was a spy. Harry wondered how Voldemort would take that little bit of news. Probably not very well, and although Harry never really liked Snape…not liked? Hell…he hated the man for four years, but Harry still did not want to see anyone else get hurt or killed because of him.

Not quite ready to go back into the kitchen with Snape, Harry decided to have a closer look around the quarters. Other than the kitchen and his bedchamber, he had not taken the time to really notice anything. He went straight to bed after supper the night before and rushed out the door after breakfast. Come to think about it…Harry wasn't even certain what his bedchamber looked like, he had been so tired over the last few days.

Harry hoped Snape wouldn't think he was snooping. He was going to live here during the summer, after all.

As Harry looked around, he was actually amazed. No bats, no snakes, no black. Not even Slytherin green.

Snape's living quarters looked nothing like a dungeon at all. The lighting in the windowless space had been spelled to mimic natural light. At the moment, as it was night-time, the room was darker and the sconces were giving the room a warm glow.

When one entered Snape's quarters from the corridor entrance, the stone wall was smooth and painted a light shade of taupe. Where the entrance foyer ended the wall became the expected rough stone once again. On the first wall is the massive Floo, large enough for a grown wizard to stand in. On the opposite side of the Floo was built in oak book-shelving that reached from floor to ceiling. Harry walked over and scanned the volumes.

There were no text or reference books in the shelves. It was all pleasure reading. Harry recognised a few wizard authors, but most of the books had been penned by Muggles.

Many of them were what Harry would expect to see in Snape's personal library…Monmouth…Chaucer…Shakespeare…Milton…Swift…both Shelley's. The list went on forever. But then, Harry found some very unexpected books. Melville…Poe…Dickens…Tolkien…Christie…Hemingway…King…Harry never thought a Slytherin would have anything Muggle nor Snape would have anything so contemporary. Harry knew that Snape was well read, but he never expected this.

Then it occurred to Harry. Snape had either grown up in a Muggle neighbourhood or awfully close to one. How else would he have met Mum when they were kids, like Aunt Petunia said?

"Wow…I need to ask Snape if I can borrow these," Harry whispered reverently.

He took out a well- worn hardback copy of The Black Pearl. Harry thought it was a bit young for Snape's personal library. Harry had read the story himself when he was younger. The book had been a gift to Dudley and his cousin had tossed it aside like anything else that had real worth. Harry had found it whilst cleaning under Dudley's bed and he ferreted it away. Dudley had eventually found out Harry had nicked the book when he caught Harry reading under a tree at school. Dudley tore the book to shreds and Harry as well when they left school later that afternoon. Harry regretted that he never finished it. He was about to put the book back and look for something a little more suitable to his age, but abruptly decided against it. After all...a good book was a good book and he really wanted to know how it ended. It would be a nice way to fritter away an afternoon.

He looked up from the book and took in the rest of Snape's chambers.

A short step down from the stone hearth the floor was actually oak hardwood and in the sitting area was a red oriental tapestry rug with blues and browns threaded throughout.

Harry found the furniture unexpected as well. None of it matched. It looked as though Snape simply picked up pieces that he liked from here and there, but it all looked right anyway.

The sofa was suede, chocolate brown with soft cushions and beige throw pillows. In front of that was a square coffee table made of rough cut wood. On one side, a low, squishy, dark tan leather chair…it looked like it might have well worn Snape-shaped indentations in it.

Obviously his favourite chair. Note to self…DON'T sit there.

Between the squishy chair and the sofa was a round end table with several old watermarks from left over from sweating glasses. On the other side of the coffee table…an upholstered, off-white Queen Anne wing chair. Harry could imagine the Headmaster using that chair often.

There was an arch in the rough stone wall behind the couch that led to the white and brown French provincial kitchen. To the right just beyond the wall was a short corridor that led to two more rooms. To the left was the dining area that Harry had become familiar with.

The walls on the left and right in the sitting room were the same as the foyers. To wall on the right, was the hall that led to the bedrooms and guest toilet. On the left wall, a well-stocked mahogany liquor cabinet. Not that Harry had any intention of invading it, but no doubt Snape would have it warded by now.

Harry nestled in on the sofa. It was every bit as comfortable as it looked. Along with some other personal brick-a-brack, all-in-all, the whole place looked comfortable and homey. If it wasn't for the company he was forced to keep, Harry wouldn't mind spending his summer here at all. He was half expecting shrunken heads in jars and slimy potions ingredients.

But then again, maybe it wouldn't be so bad. Snape had been unexpectantly decent to him so far, but it was only the second night. Only time would tell it the Potion Master's uncanny change of heart would last.

Harry was beginning to thumb through the O'Dell book when Snape finally came in. His face looked like he was about to make a snide remark about something. But his expression quickly went blank as he asked. "Which book did you choose?" He entered the room and sat in the squishy chair next to Harry. The indentation was definitely Snape shaped.

"The Black Pearl," Harry told him as he handed the book to his professor. He wasn't actually sure that he could borrow it.

Snape took the book from Harry. The corner of his mouth upturned ever so slightly as he looked at the book fondly, thumbing through the yellowed pages. "Scott O'Dell was my favourite author in my youth," he told Harry. "Your grandmother and grandfather Evans gave me this book for my tenth birthday."

It was surreal. Before tonight, Harry didn't think the Potion Master was capable of overt sentimentality. Hell…Harry didn't think Snape had been capable of sentimentality at all. His world was beginning to turn off-kilter, and frankly, it made Harry feel a bit dizzy.

"I'm sorry…I didn't mean to go snooping through your things," Harry said. He was staring at the book in his Sna...his father's hands reverently.

My grandparents gave him that.

Snape shut the book gently and looked as though he were trying to decide something important.

"It is yours," he said suddenly and handed the book back to Harry.

Harry reached out to take the book but he hesitated. "I…I can't possibly…"

"I do believe that you had a birthday this week…did you not?" Snape asked in all seriousness.

Harry could only nod as he continued to stare at the book like a holy relic.

Snape's tone bordered on insisting. "This is my gift to you…albeit belated."

Harry took it with a shaking hand. He was too overwhelmed to even say 'thank you'. Not even the Firebolt the Sirius had given him for Christmas could compare to this one beat up little children's book Snape just gave him. To Harry, the little book was priceless and the gesture from his father, even more so.

When the fog cleared in Harry's brain and he could finally speak again, he said, "I don't…I don't know what to say."

"'Thank you', is generally the customary answer," Snape said. Harry could tell the Potion's Master was nearly at a loss for words too.

Harry looked up, and gave Snape the first genuine smile he could ever recall giving the man. "Thank you, Sir," he said in all sincerity.

Snape gave Harry a slight nod. Harry could swear the man was forcing himself to hold back his own smile when he said, "You're welcome…Harry."

In less than the time it took for a single breath, Snape had schooled his features once again to his normally impenetrable mask. Snape pushed himself up from his squishy chair and said, "Come. It is almost mid-night, and you still haven't eaten."

Suddenly, for the first time since Harry could remember, he was ravenous. Harry arose to follow his father into the kitchen, but took a moment to look at his gift again. It was given to Snape by Harry's grandparents, and now Snape…his father… was giving it to him. It was Harry's first real family heirloom. Now that James Potter wasn't his real father, the Invisibility Cloak did not count. Harry decided if he ever had a son, that he would pass the little book down to him.

Harry almost felt like hugging the man, but restrained himself. Snape might think he'd gone mad. Actually, after all that had happened this day, Harry was quite certain he had gone mad.

Not wanting to mess up his new treasure, Harry said to Snape, "I'll be right back. I want to put this away so it won't get ruined."

Snape gave Harry an odd look, but Harry knew why. The cover of the book was worn, the pages were yellowed and dog-eared, and Harry could even swear he saw a ketchup stain when he flipped through the pages. It's not as if he could do much more damage to the book. But still, Harry would treat it with the reverence he felt it deserved.

Harry hurried to his room and put the book in the nightstand by the bed. Nothing had turned out this day as Harry had expected, and unexpectedly, it was a welcome change.

Harry had no idea where his relationship with Snape would go, but for the first time since Harry had known the man, Snape had taken steps in the right direction.

To be continued...
End Notes:
Severus took some right steps, but there is plenty that he and Harry still have to work through.


This story archived at http://www.potionsandsnitches.org/fanfiction/viewstory.php?sid=2564