As had become their habit, Harry and Severus spent a leisurely Sunday morning both engaged in their disparate pursuits. Snape was finishing his marking feigning calm, even though his mind worked through the various repercussions of the events of the day before, whilst Harry drew pictures quietly at the table where his guardian sat.
Merry had already taken their breakfast from the room and Severus had just finished the last execrable essay written by a third year Hufflepuff, when the Floo flared. Albus’ voice spoke from the depths of the fireplace. Harry jumped, nearly upsetting the greyish paint-coloured water he used for his drawings.. He dashed to the Floo, shouting from what he considered a safe distance, “Hello Professor Dumbledore!”
“Well, hello, Harry.” Albus’ amusement at the boy’s refusal to draw nearer to the Floo than half a metre was evident in the way his voice shook as he spoke. “Is Severus available?”
Harry turned to Severus and asked in the same loud tone, “Sev’rus, Professor Dumbledore wants to know if you can talk to him?” When Severus frowned at the noisome question, Harry modulated his tone with a little moue of chagrin, “Sorry. He wants to know…”
“I heard, Harry.” Severus rose painfully from his seat and made his way past the boy to the Floo, leaning into the green flames. “If you don’t mind, Albus, will you please step through?”
“Certainly, Severus, I’ll just be a moment.”
Severus turned to Harry, “Put away your art supplies and go to your room. I believe you have the reading assignment I gave you to complete.”
“Aw, do I have to?” the boy wheedled. “I wanted to give Professor Dumbledore the picture I drew for him.”
The boy dashed to the table, withdrawing a colour-filled picture from the midst of the papers scattered across his side of the table. “See?”
He held the picture aloft, and inexpert scribble of red, yellow, and orange in the vague shape of a bird, perched on a brown scribble that might be construed to be the bird’s perch.
“I will allow you to give it to him after Albus and I have spoken.” Severus said as he moved to his own messy stack of papers to straighten them.
“Aw, please?” Harry’s tone took on a whining quality which Snape would not allow, not from his students, and certainly not from his charge.
“One…” Severus began a countdown trying to keep the irritation he felt out of his voice. He had never made it past two without the boy hurriedly complying with whatever task Severus had set. The fearful energy that the boy once had shown when Snape gave an order was much lessened after Harry discovered that his punishment would be nothing more than a timeout or a curtailment of privileges. The boy still wouldn’t speak of his time with the Dursleys, so Severus could only guess what had been his punishment there. After the first time that the boy had flinched when Severus reached towards him during one of the child’s fits of pique, Snape had resolved that he would not make the same mistake that the boy’s atrocious relatives had, or as his own father had with Severus, himself, for that matter.
The boy hurriedly grabbed his papers, haphazardly slung his pencils into the box in which they came and was off to his room with a mutinous pout just as the Floo flared to life again. Snape knew he would have to address the boy’s cheek later.
Severus moved to his customary chair in front of the fire whilst ordering refreshments for the Headmaster, Earl Grey tea plain and inordinately sweet digestives. Merry had just delivered them as Albus stepped through, lightly brushing his garish brocade robes free of soot with one hand, a folded newspaper in his other. Once done he turned his full attention on his Potions Master.
“My boy, the situation with Miss Skeeter could not be handled as effectively as I had hoped.” Albus said without preface. He handed the newspaper to Severus. Emblazoned across the bottom of the front page was a picture of a Severus and his mother pulling Harry to the Floo. Severus’ face was pulled into murderous a scowl, his mother looked as if she were near tears, whilst Harry appeared to be attempting to escape. The headline screamed above the story, Death Eater and Mum Abscond with Poor Potter.
“As you can see, I’m afraid she wrote a rather unflattering account of what happened yesterday.”
Dumbledore sat on the settee, picking up a biscuit absently as Severus moved forward in his seat, resting his elbows on his knees as he let the paper flutter to the floor. “I see.”
“I’m afraid there is more bad news,” Albus said. “Miss Skeeter was somehow able to follow you to your mother’s home in Cokeworth. I’m certain that she will decide to use this information. Her editor hinted as much. Harry will not be safe at his school any longer.”
Severus sat back, feeling the beginnings of an impending headache. “And what of my mother? She is almost completely vulnerable. She’s been without magic for many years, Albus. Certain of my former associates will be very interested in her and her association with the boy.”
Albus picked up his tea, balancing the ornate china cup, “I have an Order member stationed at her house right now, Severus. She’s been apprised of the situation and is willing to make her home Secret Kept.”
“Yes, that worked so well before...” Severus muttered as he rose abruptly, quickly forgetting to question Dumbledore about the identity of the Order member. He stumbled slightly as the glass-shard pain shot up his legs to his hip. He saw stars as he clutched the back of the ancient leather wingback. Snape wanted to rage at the body that was failing him, he wanted to lash out at the Headmaster for once again placing someone he loved in danger, but most of all he wanted to end his own damnable guilt over making all of this necessary. If only he had never followed The Dark Lord…
“Damn and blast!” He cut off the thought savagely. His life was no longer his own to live. He deserved no better than the penance he had been given. He dared a glance to Albus. The old man’s twinkling blue eyes had sharpened their focus.
“Severus,” the Headmaster said, his voice placating even as it commanded Severus’ attention. “Perhaps all of this is for the best.”
Snape sneered at Albus as he sank back into his seat hoping that the pain caused by the action didn’t show in his face. This day had been particularly hard on his body. Stress always made his pain worsen. Albus continued, “Poppy says that you’ve upped the dose on the laudanum and that you’re now resistant to the willow bark tea you’ve been taking.”
Severus began, “She had no right…”
“She came to me as a friend who is concerned for her friend. You’re very dear to her, Severus, no matter how much fuss and bluster you show her.” Albus held up his hand, the remainder of the biscuit between his thumb and forefinger. “She believes the schedule you’ve been keeping has had a deleterious effect on your health, and she suggested that the school should hire a young woman who is at loose ends right now to take care of both you and Harry. This young lady is a very competent mediwitch who is trained in both Muggle and magical healing, and who has been helping to raise her brother’s large family after he was lost in the war.”
Severus considered Albus for a moment as the older man popped the rest of the biscuit in his mouth and was chewing as if it were made of ambrosia. He waited for the wizard to finish his little bit of theatre before saying sourly, “No doubt you’ve already hired this wonder without any consultation from me or Harry.”
“Severus, you know I wouldn’t do that,” the older man said with mock hurt in his tone. Then as Albus’ eyes resumed their customary twinkle he said, “The fact of the matter is, she hasn’t made it to Scotland yet . She arrives from Wales tomorrow for her interview. I do hope you’ll make some time available for both you and Harry to meet with her. She will be arriving on the Express at eleven. Perhaps we could meet in my office for lunch since Harry will not be attending school tomorrow.”
“Look at the time.” Albus rose and looked pointedly at the clock on Severus’ mantle. “I must be off, but not before I visit with young Harry.”
Severus turned his gaze to the direction of the hallway, ready to call the boy, however as Potter stepped out of the gloom into the warm light cast by the fireplace, Snape frowned. The boy’s face held the sombre expression of an eavesdropper that had heard too much, or more probably, that he had heard but not comprehended. Severus was in no mood or condition to question the boy, but he vowed to be more careful about privacy in the future.
Whilst the Headmaster made small talk with the child, Severus thought sourly about how he had once again been managed into a situation by the Headmaster. The sting of Poppy’s betrayal notwithstanding, he hated exactly how much he depended on the good will of Albus Dumbledore. Severus noted disinterestedly that Harry had handed Albus the scribble of the phoenix. The headmaster made the appropriate noises of appreciation and Severus had no doubt that the putative art would go in a place of honour on the walls of the headmaster’s office. He watched the two, the painful, ache in his body made him want to curse.
Finally Albus took the few steps to the Floo. As he put his hand in the pot of Floo powder, he said, “We’ll be expecting both of you in the Great Hall tonight. Unfortunately, I will not be able to attend the entire dinner. There is a Board of Governor’s meeting tonight. I expect you’ll receive a visit from Lucius Malfoy afterwards, Severus.”
The Headmaster threw the powder in the Floo as he said his destination, and he was gone in a flash of green flame.
After Dumbledore left, Severus realised he had forgotten to find out which Order member was at his mother’s house.
Harry became fractious after learning that he would join the staff for dinner. There had been no full-on whinging, but he was fussed about the fact that he would be the only child in Muggle clothing. After half an hour of questions, Severus’ thin control of his temper was so attenuated that he snapped, “We won’t be joining anyone if you don’t stop nattering on about it.”
The boy retreated to his room for the remainder of the afternoon in sullen silence, whilst Severus faced his own recriminations as he remembered his own penurious youth. He remembered being the odd man out in the streets of Cokeworth. His mother hadn’t allowed him to go to Muggle school after his first public manifestation of accidental magic during his reception year of infant school. It had been just as well. His relationship to the better fed, better cared for Muggle students had been adversarial at best. Severus had not been a beautiful child, nor was he especially gifted with charm and the children had sensed his otherness along with his obvious lack of material wealth. Being the savages that children often were, they had picked on him with great glee, engendering in him a life-long need to lash out.
He had been quite relieved when his mother was asked that she remove him from campus after the frightening fire his emotional outburst had caused. They were both asked to not return. He had spent years sitting at the faded linoleum table in the kitchen studying whilst his mother wove tales of the last real home she had ever had. Hogwarts became Severus’ Camelot, the place where he would finally be able to be himself, a place where he would be accepted for who he was. When he met Lily, she had become his Guinevere.
The maudlin story had ended darkly enforced by his extreme isolation after Lily left him to his own Stygian devices. Would he fail her son also? Severus had certainly not tried to aid Harry when he was an infant. Begging Albus for Lily’s life whilst leaving the toe rag and her son to face the Dark Lord’s wrath had not been one of his best moments. Albus had been correct to be disgusted with Severus. After all was said and done, with Lily lost and the boy away from the wizarding world, Snape had felt more than a twinge of guilt about his plea. Of course the boy didn’t deserve death. The toe rag should have taken better care of them. Albus had said that the older Potter had been caught without his wand. Why any self-respecting wizard, especially one with so much to lose, would go anywhere without his wand, was beyond Severus, but the situation was what it was.
Even now, as Severus sat in his own cold chambers, he wondered if he could overcome the darkness that seemed to be his birthright. Why had Lily seen fit to try to repair their relationship after her death? Why did he, even now, feel his loss as sharply and painfully as if it had just happened?
He closed his eyes, ignoring the wetness that collected under his lashes and spilt down his gaunt cheeks. As he fell asleep, his emotional turmoil as great, or greater, than his physical pain, he prayed that he would not dream.
“Sev’rus?” Small, cold fingers touched his face, a small body sat perched between his splayed legs, two knobby knees pressed into his stomach, and a small belly was mashed against his chest. “Sev’rus, Merry says it’s time for dinner.”
The clock on the mantle whirred in anticipation of striking the six o’clock hour, and Severus opened his eyes feeling only a little refreshed by his nap, his dark mood only slightly diminished. He waited for Potter to move from his lap before he sat fully up. He had a cramp in his neck and his trousers and waistcoat were rumpled, a quick ironing charm would freshen them up enough. Potter still stood beside the chair, in an attitude of forced insouciance as he worked his lips against his teeth nervously. As Severus rose from his seat, Potter said, “I don’t need robes to go to the Great Hal with you.”
The boys’ fingers started picking at a rough patch on the chair arm as he fought the urge to fidget under Severus’ black stare. Severus had spent the better part of the afternoon remembering how it felt to be ill-equipped. He merely pursed his lips and said, “Accio Severus’ apprentice robes!”
The robes, purchased for him by Lucius, after he attained the apprenticeship with one of the greatest Masters in Great Britain, flew into his hands. Severus had taken great care of them, using them only when Master Gilliam had chosen to enter the laboratory. The robes were of high quality wool and had both Impervius and Inflammabiles charms woven into its fibre. It had been the first piece of new clothing that he had ever owned in his life. Severus hesitated before he cast a shrinking and sizing charm on it. He handed it to Harry, “I think this should do until Madam Malkin is through with your robes, Mr Potter.”
Harry looked at the out-sized robes with a slight grimace. No doubt the boy was reminded of the rags he’d had to wear in the Dursley household. Severus said, “Put them on.”
Potter took the robes and slipped his arm into them. Immediately the robes started to fit to his much smaller body.
“Brilliant!” he said as the sizing spell did its job. The boy straight away put on a serious expression, drawing his brows into a scowl as he did, unconsciously mimicking Severus. “Thank you, sir.”
Severus held out his hand for the boy as they exited their chambers, and Potter took his hand with a little wriggle of his fingers. The two made their way to the Great Hall with minimal interruption, only pausing as they met the few stragglers late for the meal.
&*&*&
Severus had settled Harry into bed, finally, after conceding that the boy could keep the newly altered robes in his wardrobe. The child had also had to go over the entire meal as he readied himself for bed. “Did you see how all the food just appeared at once?”
Severus, who was straightening the boy’s room answered in the affirmative absently.
“I mean…” the boy uttered a garbled string of syllables as he hastily brushed his teeth. Severus heard him spit into the sink, run the tap, and then spit again before he finished the thought, “And there was so much food. It was like Christmas on TV, or like one of those cooking shows where everyone gets to make meals for people… do you know how many house elves there are, Sev’rus?”
Severus finished folding one of the singlets he had purchased to keep the slight boy warmer in the confines of the castle, “In Great Britain, or just at Hogwarts?”
“You mean they’re everywhere?” Harry goggled for a moment, as Severus patted the turned down bed indicating that the boy should get in it. The boy placed his glasses on the stand they had purchased for him which sat on the bedside table. “Do they like working, you think? I mean, I guess Merry does because you’re so nice to him, but what if they work for people who aren’t so nice?” A shadowed frown passed over the boy’s face. “What if some people are not so nice and don’t give the elves good towels and food to eat all the time, but they expect them to work? Do you think they like it then?”
“I’m sure I wouldn’t know.” Severus pulled the bedding up to Harry’s chin, as a frisson of unease shifted through his mind at the mention of house elves. Surely the boy couldn’t have been treated that badly by Tuney that he had to earn his keep. “And now it’s time for one young man to go to bed so that he might resume his studies tomorrow.”
“Aw, but I thought I wasn’t going to school tomorrow.” The boy turned on his side to follow Severus’ progress to the lights.
“You won’t be going to Muggle school tomorrow, no,” Severus said repressively as he noxed the first of three lights.
Harry sighed heavily. “Do you think Grandma Eileen will be okay? You said…”
Severus turned off the next light. “I said what, Harry?”
“Never mind.” Harry flopped onto his back.
Severus suppressed a snort. “You do know that people who eavesdrop rarely hear anything good, don’t you?”
“What’s Eve drop?” Harry slid his hands under his pillow, a sign that Severus had learnt to recognise as the impending and blessed silence of youthful sleep.
Severus turned off the third light. “We will discuss that tomorrow.”
As Snape went to the door, he awaited Harry’s normal admonition to leave it open just a crack. Harry surprised him instead by remaining silent. As Severus pulled the door almost to, he paused to watch the boy as he slipped further into slumber, his dark, wild hair splayed around his head, his lashes sooty smudges against his face. Snape couldn’t help but wonder with a fleeting pang what a child made by himself and Lily might look like. He quickly dashed the thought from his mind. Avoidance of pain that wasn’t physical had become his modus operandi. It helped him deal with the boy on his more trying days.
He had just settled into grading the rest of the third year essays when a sharp knock sounded on the outer door. Knowing that it wasn’t one of his Slytherins --Severus had set up a chain of command when he first became Head so that he dealt with only the direst of emergencies, and those were relayed to him via fire call— he made no effort to don his teaching robes. He opened the door, “Lucius, what a pleasant surprise.”