Summer of Bonding by Magica Draconia
Past Featured StorySummary: It was the summer of love . . . er, no, not really. Left waiting for the Dursleys, Harry is found by the last person he'd expect to see. Written for the Summer Fic Fest 2015.
Categories: Teacher Snape > Professor Snape, Parental Snape > Guardian Snape, Fic Fests > #18 Summer 2015 Main Characters: .Snape and Harry (required)
Snape Flavour: Canon Snape
Genres: Family, Hurt/Comfort
Media Type: None
Tags: None
Takes Place: 2nd summer
Warnings: None
Prompts: Bonding Experience, Abandoned
Challenges: Bonding Experience, Abandoned
Series: None
Chapters: 29 Completed: Yes Word count: 78164 Read: 212674 Published: 24 Jul 2015 Updated: 03 Jul 2019
Chapter 23 by Magica Draconia
Author's Notes:
Look - this story is not dead! I am not dead! I am so sorry, I never meant to leave everyone with such a cliffhanger. Not certain whether this will help, but it certainly can't hurt . . . right?

“Severus.”

Severus once again mentally thanked Potter’s ‘sheer, dumb luck’ as he studied the Malfoy family patriarch. Lucius had apparently turned around at the same moment Severus had, and if he’d seen any signs of the illegal portkey travel happening behind Severus, he didn’t appear to have connected it with Severus. Or if he did, he wasn’t letting on.

“Lucius,” Severus said, inclining his head in greeting.

“This is a . . . surprise,” Lucius said. He sneered at the mob that was still surrounding Lockhart. “Doesn’t quite seem your thing,” he added, loftily.

Severus snorted. “I was running an errand for Albus when I had the . . . misfortune to run into our new Defence professor,” he said.

“Ah.” Lucius sneered even harder. “Perhaps the Hogwarts Board of Governors should become more involved in finding new professors,” he said.

“Hmm,” Severus hummed in agreement. He didn’t want to outright state what a terrible idea he thought that was, but enthusiastically endorsing any suggestion of Lucius’ would probably come back to haunt him sooner than he’d like. “Running errands yourself?” he asked, in a blatant change of subject. “This part of the Alley doesn’t seem quite your thing either.”

“I have some business to take care of,” Lucius responded after a moment. “In the . . . less busy area of the Alley.” He carefully tipped his head to the side with just the slightest movement, and Severus realised that Lucius was admitting he had errands to run in Knockturn Alley. He raised his eyebrows.

Giving a quick glance around them, Lucius stepped closer to him, dropping his voice to a lower register that wouldn’t draw attention. “I have been warned, by Cornelius,” he said. “Raids on certain homes are being planned, all under the guise of protecting—” He spat the word, and Severus barely resisted the urge to flinch back. “—those disgusting Muggle-lovers from us. Wouldn’t do to have anything darker than Light magic around.”

“So you’re . . .” began Severus, letting his words trail off. Albus had mentioned before the start of the summer holidays that Arthur Weasley had been pushing hard for raids on the Manors of certain Pureblooded families. It seemed that, for once, Arthur had been successful. Of course, if their bumbling Minister had gone around warning all the families, then it was debateable whether Arthur and his teams would actually find anything, but if some of the nastier items suddenly became available on the open market – or as open as a black market could be – then the Aurors had a chance of being able to dispose of at least some of the Darker items.

Lucius smirked. “Renting a few things to Borgin,” he replied.

“Renting? – Ah,” Severus said, as realisation dawned. He had to admire – reluctantly – the sheer nerve Lucius had. It had been one of his favourite Muggle-baiting games: he would pawn off, or sell, an item and attach a blood spell to it that was bound to Malfoy blood. Then, after a certain period, he would activate the spell, and the item would immediately return to Lucius’ possession. He had fleeced the equivalent of a minor fortune out of Muggles before the Dark Lord’s defeat.

“—glorious news!” Lockhart’s voice suddenly carried over to them. “But I’m afraid it will have to wait for next week – can’t spoil the surprise!” he added, jovially, giving a broad wink to an elderly witch nearby. The idiot instantly swooned, collapsing backwards into two young men, who were non too gentle about lowering her to the floor.

Severus grimaced. He knew all too well what the ‘surprise’ was, and he was more determined with every passing second that he would be well away from Diagon Alley the following week when Lockhart’s newest load of dugbog tripe went on sale.

“I believe that’s my cue to leave,” he muttered to Lucius. “Especially since I believe that’s an Auror approaching . . .”

Lucius gave a genteel snort, a brief nod to Severus, then turned on his heel and strode off. Despite the fact he was anxious to get back and see what chaos Potter had managed to cause in his brief absence, Severus was very interested to note that Lucius wasn’t heading for the entrance to Knockturn Alley, but was instead making his way towards a small, family-owned shop that sold various little knick-knacks.

Something for Albus to investigate, Severus thought, as he cast one last sneer at the crowd still surrounding Lockhart, and then swiftly Disapparated.

 


He arrived in his own back yard just in time to catch a blur of movement on top of his potions lab, and to see his long-awaited and very expensive animated figurine smash to pieces on the hard ground.

Potter was standing in the doorway into the house, expression horror-stricken, hands over his mouth, and well on the way to hyperventilating, if Severus was any judge.

There was a loud squeak of alarm, and Severus’ incredulous-but-edging-towards-furious gaze shot upwards to see, for some unfathomable reason, a house-elf perched on top of his lab. Pulling its own ears as it met his gaze, the elf gave a miserable squall and popped away.

As soon as it did, Potter let out a sobbing gasp, and wobbled forwards to fall to his knees beside Marble. Or what had been Marble.

“Potter, what in Merlin’s name is going on?” Severus demanded.

“The house-elf – here when I arrived – landed on it – been stopping the owls,” the boy managed to get out. He was reaching for, but not quite touching, the Aethonian’s head.

Severus frowned. “The house-elf has been stopping the owls?” he repeated, to make sure he’d heard Potter right. “What for? Whose elf is it?”

Potter shook his head, rather wildly. “Dobby,” he spat out, almost visibly grinding his teeth over the name. “Said there’s danger at Hogwarts. Tried to stop me going back.” Then he looked up at Severus with a suspicious sheen to his eyes. “Please, sir,” he croaked, voice cracking. “Marble?”

Heaving a large sigh, Severus crouched beside him to examine the figurine. Finally, reluctantly, he shook his head. “I could put him back together physically,” he informed Potter, “but the magic has to be embedded in the figure during the stages of its creation, as I’ve explained previously. With the physical base for the spells broken, then I’m afraid the spells have dissipated. I cannot replace them.”

“Could – could the makers?” Potter asked, but his tone showed that he knew he was grasping at straws.

“I’m sorry, but no. They’d have to completely remake him, and then he wouldn’t be Marble anymore.” He laid a hand on Potter’s shoulder, as the boy made a sound that Severus suspected was a stifled sob. “I’m sorry, Harry. He’s gone.”

The next sound, made as the boy curled in on himself, was definitely a sob. Severus squeezed his shoulder. He had no idea what else he should do to comfort Potter, so settled for letting go and giving him a brisk pat.

“I have to contact the headmaster,” he informed Potter. “Now that we know what caused the wards, we can hopefully lower them again.” He took a step towards his lab, and then paused. “You should go inside, Pot— Harry. I’ll . . .” He hesitated, wondering what wording he could use. “. . . look after Marble.”

The boy stumbled to his feet and, sniffing heavily – a disgusting mannerism, but Severus didn’t think this was the time to berate him about it – made his way into the house. Severus suspected he was half-blinded by tears, as he almost crashed into the doorframe, but managed to right himself at the last moment.

Bending down to collect the scattered pieces, Severus’ fury began to smoulder and grow again. If he ever got his hands on whoever owned that Merlin-forsaken dung-ridden excuse of a house-elf, they would soon sorely regret not giving it clothes as soon as it was born. For all that people were so fond of reminding everyone else that he was – had been – a Death Eater, they never seemed to stop and think that perhaps it wasn’t a good idea to get on the bad side of someone who was known to be part of a group that willingly hunted and tortured people.

Scooping up the last bit, Severus stroked a finger down the muzzle. He hadn’t had Marble for all that long, no more than six weeks at most, but it felt like losing a family member. Perhaps it was a good thing that he wouldn’t be able to afford another animated one any time soon, he thought, as he entered his lab.

Gently depositing Marble’s remains on an out-of-the-way table, he crossed to the small fireplace and reached for the Floo powder. “Headmaster’s office, Hogwarts!” he called.

It seemed to take a very long time before there was any response, and then it wasn’t someone Severus had expected. “Severus, is that you? I’m afraid Albus isn’t here at the moment.” The bearded face of the Charms Master appeared in the flames.

“It doesn’t matter. If you could just pass on a message for me? We’ve discovered who put the wards on my house.”

“Have you really?” Filius Flitwick squeaked, his eyes widening. “Albus just informed Minerva and myself last week. We were actually supposed to be meeting today to discuss our progress, but Albus got called away.”

“We may still need you to inform us of how to remove the wards,” Severus informed him, scowling. “It was a house-elf.”

“What was a house-elf?” asked Filius. “Oh! You mean a house-elf put up those wards?” He frowned. “Presumably on someone’s orders. Do you know whose house-elf it is?”

“No,” Severus growled. “And if they’re very lucky, I won’t ever find out. According to Potter, it’s name is Dobby.”

“Potter? Oh, yes, Albus did say something about you looking after Harry this summer.” Filius tapped a long forefinger against his chin. “I presume a simple finite didn’t work?” he queried.

Severus shook his head. “I’m fairly certain that was the first thing Albus tried,” he said.

“Hmm. Then perhaps I should come and see for myself,” the diminutive professor suggested. “Gain a better idea of what’s been done.”

“Certainly.” Reaching sideways for a spare piece of parchment and a quill, Severus hastily scrawled the coordinates for his home on it. “Here,” he said, passing the parchment through the Floo. “The Apparation coordinates.”

“I shall be there shortly; must just leave a message for Albus,” Filius said.

“We’ll be expecting you.” And with that, Severus closed the Floo.

 


Filius had apparently left a very short message for Albus, as Severus had barely set foot in the living room before a short, sharp crack! announced Filius' arrival.

“Afternoon, Severus,” the Charms Master said. He glanced around and spotted Potter, curled up in his armchair. “Hello, Mr Potter. I hear you and Severus have been having a spot of bother courtesy of a house-elf?”

The boy blinked at his professor, then nodded. “It said it was called Dobby,” he said, his voice hoarse. “It said it had been stopping the owls so that I wouldn't go back to Hogwarts.”

“Hmm.” Filius tapped a finger against his chin, considering. “That may make it trickier,” he said. “If the house-elf warded the house for a specific reason, and those wards go down before whatever point it has decreed, then it could simply replace the wards.” He fell silent for a moment, studying the walls.

Eventually, he withdrew his wand from where he kept it in his sleeve. “I’m just going to check how the wards were done,” he said.

Potter tilted his head slightly. “Professor Dumbledore tried, but he couldn’t see anything,” he said.

Filius raised his eyebrows at Severus in question. “Back when we first discovered there was something blocking the owls,” Severus explained, “Albus tried to force it to show itself or bring it down, but the only thing he managed was to nearly overload my existing spells.”

“Ah, well,” began Filius, smiling at Potter, “I shall be trying something a bit different from the Headmaster. I want to see the wards, not disrupt them.” The Charms Master turned to face the nearest wall, and began waving his wand in a long, sinuous pattern.

Severus couldn’t see any results himself, but apparently Filius could, as he made an interested sound.

Finally, Filius lowered his wand and turned to face them again. “A very interesting puzzle!” he informed them, beaming enthusiastically. “I shall have to consult some of my research tomes. And maybe Minerva,” he added, thoughtfully. “Perhaps we could— Yes, well, I shall look into it!” he promised, jerking himself out of his thoughts with a visible effort. “I’m afraid the wards will have to stay put for the moment, Severus. I hope it won’t inconvenience you too much.”

“If I haven’t expired of frustration over it yet, I can doubtless last another few weeks,” replied Severus, dryly. There was a small sound from where Potter was sitting, but when both professors looked his way, he was still curled up in the chair, watching them.

Filius tucked his wand away. “I shall see you at the start-of-term meeting, Severus,” he said, then nodded to Potter. “Goodbye, Mr Potter.”

“’Bye, Professor,” Potter managed to get out, just before Filius Disapparated with a brisk crack

The End.


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