Judas and the Messiah by AngelMoon Girl
Summary: In which a young, grieving Severus Snape fends off Death Eaters and his own personal demons to get Harry Potter to safety, the cold Halloween night that his entire world fell apart.
Categories: Parental Snape > Guardian Snape Main Characters: .Snape and Harry (required), Dumbledore, Hagrid, James, Lily
Snape Flavour: Snape is Angry, Canon Snape, Snape Comforts, Snape is Depressed, Snape is Desperate, Snape is Kind, Snape is Loving
Genres: Action/Adventure, Angst, Drama, Fluff, General, Hurt/Comfort, Tragedy
Media Type: None
Tags: Alternate Universe, Baby fic, Child fic, Deaged!Harry, Injured!Harry, Kidnapped!Harry
Takes Place: 0 - Pre Hogwarts (before Harry is 11)
Warnings: None
Challenges: None
Series: None
Chapters: 4 Completed: Yes Word count: 8010 Read: 10539 Published: 05 May 2017 Updated: 14 Feb 2018
Part 4 of 4 by AngelMoon Girl
Severus gingerly puts his hands under the boy and lifts him to his shoulder. It is strange to be holding a child for comfort and not out of necessity. Even stranger to have a child not immediately repulsed by him. Severus isn't quite sure what to do next, so he gives an awkward pat to Harry's back. It seems to work - the crying doesn't exactly subside, but it is less vociferous, for which his left ear is immeasurably grateful.

"Come on, you infernal brat."

Severus turns and carries the boy to the chair. As if on second thought, the lanky Slytherin flicks his wand and transfigures it into a wooden rocker, which he then drags over to the fireplace. It takes him a moment to figure out the proper maneuvering, but Severus eventually settles himself with Harry lengthwise across his lap, tucked into the crook of one arm. It leaves his other free to gesture illustriously at the hearth until flames jump to life within. Their flickering tongues cast a warm glow upon the pair in the rocker, one of whom sighs as he prepares for the long haul.

Instead, something unexpected happens.

The moment Severus begins to rock, Harry's brilliant green eyes - 'her eyes,' the man thinks again with a thrill of something unexplainable - start to droop. The boy stops his cacophonous racket to yawn massively.

"That's right... sleep," Severus murmurs, tempted to enact the same spell he used earlier so that he might be free to lie Harry elsewhere.

...Even if this is not, perhaps, as terrible nor as uncomfortable as he first dreaded it would be.

The weight of this small savior shifts in his arms as Harry blinks blearily up at him. Severus frowns, an inexorably strange feeling passing over him as he stares back.

"Look at us," the former Death Eater ruminates aloud, surprisingly more at ease than he would normally be, sharing his introspections with another human being. It helps that Harry is a mostly vacuous sort of tot, the boy now sucking eagerly at three of his fingers. "The irony... if I am Judas, then you are surely the Messiah. You and I are doomed, child."

Severus chuckles darkly, knowing it to be true - the past always repeats itself, after all. That is the fickle nature of fate.

He is spared further reflection when what sounds like a motorbike's engine revs loudly outside his cabin. Severus leaps to his feet.

"What the hell!?"

Harry fusses for a minute after being unexpectedly jostled, but soon grows quiet as Severus strides to the window and they both peer curiously out. There is a monstrous shape moving in the yard beyond, but Severus is not alarmed - he recognizes the scraggly hair and beard immediately.

"He sends Hagrid, of all people? That bumbling oaf?" Severus grumbles, underneath his breath. Harry's hand grabs his collar suddenly, tiny wet fingers cool against Severus' neck. The twenty-one year old glances down, a bit startled. Harry is staring wide-eyed out at Hagrid, seemingly mesmerized, or maybe even a touch afraid. The sight makes Severus smirk.

"His bark is worse than his bite, I assure you," Severus says amusedly, before he catches himself. Why on earth is he pandering to this brat, son of the bane of his very existence? But Harry hears the voice being directed his way and looks up, a blinding smile in place. It throws Severus off entirely.

He is definitely not cut out for this.

"It's time to go," Severus announces, stiffly. He ignores the odd pang in his chest after that pronouncement, because he does *not* care, and so he marches to the door with a hardened air and methodical steps. But just at the threshold, the man falters.

"I suppose you can't go out looking like a bright bloody beacon, can you?" the ex-Death Eater says, gruffly, in reference to the neon eyesore Harry is still currently swaddled within. "No, that won't do."

He unwraps the orange blanket from around the child. Harry makes a noise of protest.

"Oh, it's just for a moment. You won't die," Severus snaps, but he can't seem to achieve his usual acerbic inflection, which is quite frustrating. When he finally extricates the boy, he looks at the blanket with supreme distaste, before chucking it disparagingly into the fireplace. It goes up in flames immediately. Severus watches the pyrotechnics for a moment, before a strange light dawns into his eyes. Some would call it madness - maybe it is. But Severus likes to believe he is thinking more clearly than he has in years. His hand reaches up almost of its own volition, and grabs the Death Eater mask still riding atop his head, from where he had pushed it earlier. The inhuman face, cold and cruel, glares back up at him. A reminder of all the wrongs he perpetrated while wearing this disguise. A puppeteer for evil. Severus sneers, crumpling the mask in his fist. 'No more.' He lobs the accursed face in with the blanket. There is a powerful satisfaction in watching the famed symbol of Voldemort's followers - the physical incarnation of his sins - shrivel and burn. He wishes he could do the same to the mark on his arm. Still - Severus has never felt more relieved; he can breathe easier than he has in a long time. A weight has lifted - there is one less millstone strung round his neck.

Harry wriggles in his grip, whining at his exposure to the cabin's chill. Severus glides back to the bed. He hesitates for the briefest moment, looking at Harry. The child hiccups, lower lip wobbling, and piercing green connects with beady onyx. Severus swears.

"Not like I need it anyway," he grouses to himself. The twenty-one year old bends over, taking care to keep Harry supported upon one hip, and yanks out a ratty school trunk from beneath the bed. He mumbles away various enchantments warding this sad relic from his childhood, and when the trunk is unlocked the man retrieves but one item.

He pulls out with tender hands an even more worn-looking quilt. Some of the patches are falling off, and the threads are long brittle, but it is still just as heavy and warm as ever. Perfect for a brisk night such as this.

Severus lays out Harry again. He makes short work of bundling the one year old up for his impending journey. Harry coos and gargles, limbs all akimbo.

"Stay still, would you?" Severus snags one flailing arm and gently restrains it against the child's chest so that he can tuck the blanket in securely. He does the same with all other appendages. Harry looks so content afterward that Severus feels little harm in telling him one last secret. It's not like he will remember anyway.

"That quilt was made by my mother. She was a talented seamstress, once," Severus recalls, throat tight. 'Until my father chased all her passions, all her joy for living, right out of her... until she was nothing but a broken shell.'

"This was my most prized possession as a child. *Try* not to spit up on it."

Harry coos again. It is the closest to affirmation he is going to get, Severus supposes.

Knocking resounds, the door fairly quivering on its hinges as it fights to withstand the assault. Severus rolls his eyes.

"A little harder, won't you? Our neighbors in the next county over might not be able to hear," the dark-haired Slytherin snarks. Then louder, "Good God, man. I'm coming!"

He eases the baby back into his arms. By now, the weight has become familiar. They cross the floor to the source of the ruckus and Severus whips open the door, to reveal one very anxious half-giant.

"Oh 'Arry!" Hagrid near-sobs, reaching out with both hands. Severus halts him with a strategic pull of his wand, aiming it for the jugular. Or, where he assumes the jugular to be. There's too much damn hair to see past.

"What is the location of the Order of the Phoenix?" Severus presses, keeping Harry hidden against him.

Hagrid, not wanting to appear recalcitrant, raises his hands in a show of acquiescence. "Snape... it's jus' me..."

"*Where*?"

"12 Grimmauld Place. London."

Severus relaxes.

"I just had to be certain you were who you said you were," he explains, pocketing his wand once more.

"Ah, no worries," Hagrid replies graciously. "Bit sad yer can't trust anyone now'erdays, though."

Severus doesn't know what to say to that, so he doesn't. He has never been able to just blindly trust people, not even before the war. Hagrid gives a great sniffle then, trying to peek in at Harry.

"Poor 'Arry. Poor James an' Lily. Oh, it's awful, jus' awful. The wee lad all alone!"

"Indeed," Severus intones, uncomfortably. He wishes Hagrid would go weep elsewhere. The overgrown man sweeps large hands over his eyes, wiping away the tidal wave of tears he had been parrying. His voice is markedly stronger as the gentle giant persuades,

"Alright, well, I'll take 'im off yer hands now, Snape. Got 'ter get goin'. Dumbledore'll be waitin' on me."

"Where are you going?" Severus inquires, still not passing the boy over yet. He's not sure why he's delaying the inevitable. It's definitely not to hold Harry for just that little bit longer.

"Little Whingin'n Surrey. Think Dumbledore said Lily's gotta sister there or summat-"

"A sister?" Severus interjects, sharply.

"Yeah," Hagrid nods. "S'funny... don't much 'member Lily mentioning her, but I reckon she's the last family little Harry 'ere's got."

Severus purses his lips, unconsciously bringing Harry closer to himself. Oh, he remembers Petunia Evans alright, and he also remembers how much disparity existed between Petunia and Lily. To say Lily's sister was a cruel, jealous, heartless shrew would've been putting it only too kindly. And Harry was going to live with *her*?

The rational part of Severus' brain comes to life then, harsh and biting. What does he care where the boy ends up? It's not like *he* wants that responsibility. And besides, even if he did volunteer, what the hell would he do with a baby anyway? The idea is risible. He is not father material (especially not to James Potter's son!). Petunia is a much better fit. No one remains the same selves they were at eleven; Severus is sure Lily's sister will have long matured by now. Better the boy live with people who will dote and fawn over his very existence, than with the one who will one day bring it to ruin.

Steeling himself, and still not quite sure why, Severus transfers the warm little bundle over to Hagrid. The half-giant with an affinity for all creatures great and small cuddles the boy close, an expression of soft wonderment settling on his countenance. Immediately, Severus perceives a strange sense of loss. He watches as Harry struggles and cranes within his fabric confines to look back at Severus, whimpering. Those green eyes bear a path straight to his soul. To Severus, it almost looks like a gaze of betrayal. He shivers, and takes a step back.

He doesn't care. He doesn't care. He doesn't care.

This must be done. He must entrust Lily's child to Dumbledore now. It is the best hope for the boy. There are ancient magicks, blood wards and the like, that Severus knows will keep the wizarding world's savior safe in a way he never could.

Not that he wants to, anyway.

Hagrid turns and Severus trails not far behind. Then he stops dead in his tracks.

"What the devil is *that*!?"

"Ahhh, this 'ere bike? T'was Sirius Black who lent me this little beauty. Bit funny he was. Told me he wouldn't need her anymore-"

Severus has to grit his teeth against a sudden headache, withholding his foul oath at the mention of James Potter's crony. He drowns out Hagrid's voice, inwardly decrying the unfairness that a person like Sirius Black should live while Lily does not. He would gladly trade all of the so-called 'Marauders' for her life's return.

Hagrid finally concludes his rambling about that contemptible ingrate, and makes to exit on the bike. Severus rushes forward.

"You're taking the boy *on there*!?"

"Well, yeah," Hagrid answers, nonplussed.

"Dumbledore condoned this?"

"Yep," Hagrid says, puffing out his chest proudly. Severus knows there's no arguing after that. Dumbledore's word is law. It would be very disingenuous of him to needle Hagrid about the powerful old mage's trust when he himself has only just recently earned it.

"And how do you propose to keep him on board?" Severus inquires tightly, as he tries to keep his features stoic.

He doesn't care. He doesn't care. He doesn't care. Why does he have to keep reminding himself of that fact?

"Well, like this," Hagrid replies patiently, and he eases Harry, quilt and all, into a sling hung around his neck. The baby's tuft of black hair barely peeks over the top. Then Hagrid looks up, and has the gall to give Severus a most annoyingly knowing smile. "Safe enough for ya, Snape?"

The twenty-one year old potions prodigy immediately grimaces.

"I could care less if the brat falls to his death. Do what you will."

The sparkle is still strong in Hagrid's eye. "Come say goodbye to 'im? Might be awhile 'afore ya see 'im again."

"No thank you," Severus sneers, with portentous grace.

Hagrid mumbles something about "denial" before kicking the engine into life. It roars like a ferocious lion. The gentle giant waves massively at his darkly adorned companion.

"Take care o'yourself, Snape!"

"Likewise," Severus bids, probably too quietly for Hagrid to hear, but it bothers him little. He glances to the sling and is discomfited to find two pinpoints of green staring directly at him. Harry is straining for one last look.

Severus watches those bright emerald depths blink owlishly as the bike begins to elevate. He watches as Hagrid brushes a trashcan lid-sized hand over the boy's head. He watches as the half-giant ascends into the low-hanging stratus clouds, taking with him the last bit of Lily Evans in this world.

There's a pang that Severus doesn't want to give name to as he observes the unlikely pair, until they are nothing but a dim speck against the eerie backdrop of night. Severus swallows thickly, those brilliant green eyes still burned into the forefront of his mind.

"Goodbye... Harry Potter."

He turns to amble slowly back into the cabin. There's an exhaustion stealing over him, unexpected and swift. It seems to seep into his very bones until Severus feels decades older than he actually is. He wonders if this is what Dumbledore deals with on a daily basis. But no, the leader of the side of the light has an unsuspecting spryness about him; a boundless energy, along with more bloody cheer than Severus will ever possess in two lifetimes let alone one.

He goes to the rocker and collapses into it like all the wind has been sapped from his sails. He waves his hand with listless abandon, and "Accio!"s for a bottle of Firewhiskey. He doesn't even have a chance to pop the cork before another ghostly phoenix is floating in front of him. Severus swears irately and tries to shoo it away so that he can finally drink in peace, but it is of course to no avail.

"I just received word from Hagrid of his success. I must express my immense gratitude to you, Severus. You have shown true loyalty to me and to our cause tonight, even despite the horrors you so recently endured. The Order will not soon forget your contributions to the take-down of Lord Voldemort and his base."

The aforementioned man snorts and raises his bottle in sardonic aplomb. The Order of the Phoenix, welcome him into their fold with open arms? 'Not bloody likely.'

"There is still much to be accomplished on our end, but I do wish to speak with you, Severus. Perhaps you can fill me in on the night's events this coming morning. I think 9:00 in my office will do."

The phoenix patronus starts to fade.

"You have done more than you can know, my boy," Dumbledore's voice issues forth, now in warmer, gentler tones than his previous business crispness. "Harry is very important. And not just because of the prophecy."

Upon that last, the spectral messenger disappears, leaving behind only the sight of crackling embers. Severus stares solemnly into the fire, a maudlin shadow curtaining half of his features. The other glows heavy and haunted.

"Do I really deserve extolations, Lily?" He grips at his grease-laden locks and croaks, "I killed you - I as good as killed you!"

A log shifts and sizzles, the low hiss like one word - /"Harry."/

Severus blinks. Yes... he did manage to rescue Harry. By some quirk of fate, they both made it out alive tonight. But that hardly feels like fulfillment of the debt he incurred the moment he passed word of the prophecy to Voldemort, thereby - in a way - signing Lily's death warrant.

He might be barmy. The likelihood has always been more probability than possibility. But Severus swears those viridescent depths accost him still, relentless phantoms stalking from the peripheries of his mind's eye.

Lily seems to be begging, and Severus finds himself as powerless to her whims as ever. Those green eyes have always been his one weakness. His Achilles heel.

"I know what you want."

He can't escape her. Can't scurry back into the darkness; that comforting absence of all. Not this time. The man jerks his wand and summons for a tumbler.

"And I suppose you will not let me rest until you have it."

He pours himself a gratuitous helping of the Firewhiskey and then toasts it into the air.

"Lily... on my oath as a wizard, I promise to protect him - for as long as I may live."

He's about to honor the vow with a drink, but pauses.

"I know what else you want," he whispers. "But that... that I just can't do. You know my past. You know my sins. You know whose son he is."

Severus grits his teeth in anguish.

"I am Judas and he is the Messiah. We are stuck in an age-old pattern of destruction. I will only ever cause him suffering. I *must* distance myself." He closes his eyes. "Others will step in where I cannot. He won't be alone. But I made this mistake once, Lily - I won't again. Love is for the fools."

Severus opens his eyes again, a cold resolve filling his system with every breath. He raises the cup to his lips and takes a deep swig, reveling in the hot liquid and the way it burns on the way down. He feels the edge falling away, and all pain with it.

"I failed you. I won't fail him."

~~~

The End

The End.


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