Cripple Me by krosi
Summary: Severus Snape hates Harry Potter. Nothing will ever change that. Nothing. Not even the boy’s sudden intrusion in his life. Or that cheeky smile. Or that all too innocent look. Or the sudden shift in his relationship with the Potter whelp. Not even those green eyes. No, nothing will ever change Severus’s hatred for Harry Potter – no matter how fond of him he was becoming. An eventual Snape adopts Harry story. Beginning in Harry’s first year.
Categories: Teacher Snape > Professor Snape, Misc > All written in Snape's POV, Parental Snape > Guardian Snape Main Characters: .Snape and Harry (required)
Snape Flavour: Snape is Angry, Snape Comforts, Snape is Cruel, Snape is Mean, Snape is Stern
Genres: Drama, General, Hurt/Comfort
Media Type: None
Tags: Adoption
Takes Place: 1st Year
Warnings: Abusive Dursleys, Alcohol Use, Physical Punishment Spanking
Challenges: None
Series: None
Chapters: 38 Completed: No Word count: 156580 Read: 155344 Published: 10 Oct 2017 Updated: 04 Mar 2024
Disgrace by krosi

“Did you know about Potter’s home life?” Severus demanded. “What his so-called family puts him through?”

               “I’ve heard stories, Severus,” Albus responded sadly, “but I was unaware of the depths of the abuse. And I regret to say that there is little that can be done.”

               “Little?” Severus snapped, walking around the headmaster’s desk, eyeing the pensieve that rested on a table just beyond the shelves of knickknacks and books. His conversation with the man thus far had not gone exactly as he had hoped it would. “Perhaps if I show you what I’ve seen – everything from his reactions to hands near his face and what he told me yesterday . . .”

               “I don’t wish to see your memories,” Albus said, holding up a hand. “I know that if I see them, I will be persuaded to attempt something to help the boy when even I know it is futile overall. Harry is safest within the blood wards and any attempts to help him will catch the attention of the entire wizarding world. The fewer who know of Harry and his situation, the better. We do not want the wrong people attempting to “rescue” the boy from his situation at home should the press release a paper about it.”

               “Then we keep it from the press.”

               “That is easier said than done, especially considering Harry’s status in the wizarding world.”

               “You can’t be honestly considering just letting him return back to that terrible family?”

               “There is nothing I can do, I’m afraid.”

               “What are you talking about? There is a lot you can do. Remove him, rehome him, do something about those filthy muggles – anything would be improvement.”

               “If Harry were any other child, I would readily support him. But as it is, Harry is not just an ordinary boy, Severus.”

               “If he were any other child, eh? Any other child except the Dark Lord? Except me?”

               “Now Severus, I did my best to –”

               “You did nothing. Don’t even try to deny it. But Potter needs help out of that so-called family of his. I’m sure there is physical abuse going on in that house from what I’ve witnessed thus far and if that’s the case, Potter could be in danger.”

               “His relatives have kept him alive all these years without fail. I’m sure they will continue to do so. This is a complicated proposition you are proposing. I can talk to Harry’s relatives before summer break –”

               “And do more harm than good,” Severus snapped, turning away from the Headmaster’s desk and heading for the door. This was completely hopeless. He should have known Albus wouldn’t . . .

               “If you can convince the Minister for Magic,” Albus said quickly before Severus could leave, “I will be delighted to help you and Harry.”

               Severus didn’t turn around. He simply asked, “What use is he?”

               “Minister Cornelius Fudge has the power to give you and myself permission to remove Harry Potter from his muggle family. We will need his consent before proceeding any further.”

               “And if he refuses?”

               “Then I’m afraid nothing else can be done. Harry will have to return to his relatives during the summer months.”

               Severus sighed and left the headmaster’s office without so much as a goodbye.

              

               “Remove the boy from his home?” Fudge questioned as he threw on his minister robe over his suit. “I don’t believe that would be in Mr. Potter’s best interest. If that is all, I have a very busy schedule today.”

               “You’re not even going to take account of the abuse I’ve mentioned?” Severus growled, clenching his fists. 

               “Do you have proof of this abuse?”

               “I do,” Severus said, pulling out his wand and touching the tip to his head. “And I see you have a pensieve. Do you have a moment to spare to observe?”

               Fudge stared at Severus silently for a moment before sighing inconveniently and walking over to his pensieve, beckoning Severus over to him. Severus pulled the necessary memories from his head, making sure to leave out some important details that could land himself (or that overgrown child, Hagrid) in any trouble. He placed the thread strings of memory into the pensieve and stepped back as Fudge took a look.

               The memories started with Harry trying to give back the clothes.

               “Here!” Harry demanded. “Take them back. I don’t want them.”

               Severus recognized the package as the clothes he had bought Harry, once again magically packaged and sealed. Severus frowned down at the boy.

               “You foolish child. They are yours.”

               “I don’t want them!”

               “Quit acting like a five-year-old, Potter,” Severus growled, pushing the package back against Harry’s chest. “You need them, and I did not waste my money on perfectly suitable material just for you to throw them away.”

               “I’m not throwing them away. I’m giving them back. You can return them all and get your money back.”

               “I will do no such thing. You refused to have clothes from home sent to you and with the weather as it is here, there is hardly any point in you freezing to death simply because you were too stubborn to . . .”

               “I told you!” Harry all but shouted angrily. “I told you why I couldn’t have clothes sent to me! And I don’t need your charity!”

               Then, the scene shifted.      

               “But . . .” Harry frowned, “did you say . . . house elves? Are those like . . . I’ve heard of elves before, but I . . . are they . . .?”

               Rolling his eyes as he realized the boy wasn’t going to drop it, Severus called out, “Bakkey!”

               A loud pop sounded in the room and a house elf appeared, bowing respectfully. Severus noticed Harry jump at the noise and then stare at the creature as one would some caged zoo animal.

               “Yes, Master Snape?” Bakkey asked.

               “Bring myself and Potter some tea, would you?”

               “Of course, Master Snape.”

               Bakkey disappeared in another loud pop. Harry blinked before flashing Severus a confused look.

               “That is a house elf?”

               “He is, yes.”

               “Is he like . . . a slave?”

               “Hmm,” Severus hummed at Harry’s comparison. In some sense, it was an accurate description. But in another sense, it wasn’t always the case. As was the case at Hogwarts, where the elves chose to be around and work at the school. So, Severus decided on his answer. “No. He and the many others that work here choose to be here. And I can assure you, they are not to be ordered around by you or any other student.”

               “I wouldn’t do that, sir!”

               “Then I’m sure we won’t have a problem.”

               Then, a tray appeared with a teapot, cups, sugar cubes, and biscuits. Severus lifted the lid of the teapot to release some trapped steam, then poured tea in both cups, and said, “Help yourself.”

               Severus added a sugar cube to his tea, ignoring Harry’s suspicious look.

“Why are you giving me tea?” the boy asked.

“Well, for one, it’d be a waste not to use it all after Bakkey went through all the trouble. And two, tea is known for its calming effects, and I’m sure that is exactly what you need after your little tantrum.”

“I didn’t throw a tantrum!”

Severus gave the boy a pointed glare as he stirred his tea, effectively cooling Harry’s temper. But Harry still didn’t move for the tea.

               “Honestly, Potter,” Severus snapped. “I didn’t make the tea, so I can assure you, it’s not poisoned.”

               “I wasn’t . . . thinking that,” Harry said, his cheeks flaming red.

               Severus raised an eyebrow at the boy and watched as Harry picked up the other teacup and hesitantly added two sugar cubes and stirred. Severus noticed Harry eye the biscuits and shoved the plate towards the boy. Harry shyly took a biscuit and nibbled on it.

               “So . . .” Harry began, dipping his biscuit in the tea, “did . . . Bakkey? Did he make this?”

               “Yes,” Severus answered, absently stirring the tea he had yet to drink from.

               Harry ate the biscuit before asking, “So, house elves . . . they do all the chores?”

               “They do.”

               “So, is that how my bed is always made when I come back from classes.”

               “Perhaps. Though I’d suggest you should really make your own bed in the morning. It’s a good habit to have.”

               “There’s no point. I’m just going to mess it up again,” Harry muttered.

               Severus smirked at the comment.

               “Well, besides making your bed, they also clean the castle, make all the meals, and tend to the grounds, including the Quidditch Pitch.”

               “That’s a lot of work,” Harry frowned, not really liking that these creatures did so much. “Are they at least paid?”

               “Of course not.”

               “What do you mean, of course not?” Harry glared. “That’s not right!”

               “They are not paid, Potter, simply because they do not wish to be.”

               “Oh,” Harry frowned down at his tea this time, taking a quick sip. “It still doesn’t seem right.”

               “You feel strongly on the matter. Why?”

               “Well,” Harry’s frown deepened, “I guess maybe because I had to do all the chores and make all the meals at my relatives – no one else did anything! Well, Aunt Petunia sometimes cooked. But I had to take care of the garden too. And I was hardly given a meal for completing everything. I was given nothing!”

               Harry blinked, then looked up at Severus with burning cheeks.

               “Sorry,” the boy said, “I’m not . . . sure why . . .”

               “It’s alright,” Severus said, finally taking the spoon out of his tea and setting it aside. He rested his arms on the table. “You seem calmer and I’m sure after your little outburst earlier, you wanted to get that off your chest. But, while we’re all being honest, care to expand on what you meant by “hardly given a meal?””

               Harry sipped the tea as he eyed the plate of biscuits, trying to resist seeming rude and taking more. Severus’s eyes followed the boy’s gaze.

               “Feel free to take another biscuit, Potter. In fact, take them all. I certainly won’t eat them.”

               “Err, thanks, sir. I’m sure Ron will like that. But when I’m at my relatives, I have to cook all the meals, but I’m not allowed to eat at every single one. I’m lucky if my aunt and uncle let me have leftovers. When I was younger, I’d make the meals, and then they’d make me go back to my cupboard.”

               “Your cupboard?”

               “Yeah,” Harry’s eyes seemed a bit glazed as he absently dipped another biscuit into his tea. “My room.”

               “Your room was a cupboard?”

               “I know it sounds terrible, but it wasn’t that bad. I mean, I think I’ve outgrown it now. It was starting to get a bit cramped. But it’s okay, they moved me to Dudley’s second bedroom when I started getting my acceptance letters. I have an actual room now.”

               “I remember it took you a while to respond to your acceptance letter. Professor Dumbledore had to send Hagrid out for you. Was there a reason for that?”

               “Well, they wouldn’t let me open the letter for a long time. They just didn’t want me to go to some freak school.”

               Fudge pulled out of the pensieve with a thoughtful expression. Severus waited patiently – though only on the outside, his insides were clenching anxiously. Silence reigned for several moments.

               “The boy’s honesty is questionable,” Fudge finally said. “You didn’t drug him with Veritaserum, did you? That is illegal.”

               “Of course not,” Severus denied, crossing his arms. “The boy was obviously in a state of distress and the tea had a bit of calming draught in it. Potter was clearly just in an emotionally vulnerable state.”

               “Hmm,” Fudge narrowed his eyes at Severus. “Regardless, the boy is in one piece. There’s hardly reason for concern.”

               Severus bit back a growl as he returned his memory and followed Fudge, who was already walking away, leaving the office.

               “You can’t be serious!” Severus snapped. “Potter’s home life should be a major concern! There is obvious neglect and emotional abuse – and where there’s that much, physical abuse isn’t far behind.”

               “Why do you care so much for the boy? Buying him new clothes, giving him a calming tea – why bother yourself?”

               “He is a student under my care.”

               “He’s a Gryffindor. Technically, he’s under Professor McGonagall’s care. Why am I hearing of all this from you instead of her?”

               “What does that matter? I’m here as one of his professors informing you that he is living in unfit conditions. He is the Boy-Who-Lived, surely you’d show a little more care in how he is –”

               “That’s just it, isn’t it? He is the Boy-Who-Lived. And if we cause some uproar about what goes on in his home, we are exposing him to the whole of the wizarding world – and that exposure could reach the very people we are hiding him from – much like yourself.”

               Severus seethed for a moment, trying to allow the comment to roll off his back. He growled, “I was a spy.”

               “Were you? In fact, I should be more concerned about your looking into this boy’s life. Mr. Potter is physically fine. From your memory, he looks healthy.”

               “As a couple months of good eating and sleeping can do to a child!”

               “And at this point, Mr. Potter would only be returning to his relatives during the summer. That’s just a for a couple months each year now, it’s not like those muggles could do a lot of damage in that time.”

               “It hardly takes ten weeks to kill someone.”

               “You have no proof of physical abuse or malicious intent on the guardians’ behalf.”

               “Do you want proof of physical abuse? I could show you a memory of how Potter reacted when I was trying to help him after a potions accident . . .”

“No, I’m done with the pensieve. I don’t need to see more memories. Those muggles have kept Mr. Potter alive and safe all these years; I’m sure they will continue to do so for the remainder seven they have left to home him. Mr. Potter is better off with them over having us expose his situation. Considering who he is and what he means, if this got out, he’ll be all over the news.”

               “Why can’t we handle this between us? The headmaster said if you allow it, he would aid me in helping Potter. If a low profile is kept . . .”

               “How likely do you think Mr. Potter’s situation can be kept a secret? Anything could go wrong, Snape! Anything – the boy could expose himself by telling his friends who tell their parents who tell eve more people. Such information always finds its way to the wrong ears. Besides, if we did manage to keep it all quiet, what’s stopping potential new families from taking advantage of the boy’s fame and inheritance? And I’m surprised Albus would agree to anything considering he was the one who insisted on keeping Mr. Potter within the blood wards.”

               The two grew quiet as they passed a large group of ministry officials talking about some new bill that needed to be looked over by the Minister for Magic. Fudge sighed, adjusting the cuffs of his robe.

               “Albus is willing to reconsider,” Severus tried to counter once they were alone in the hall again, walking towards a large room. “If we don’t make a big deal of the process . . .”

               “There are sneaky reporters around here, Snape. Very sneaky reporters. Word will get out. No matter how careful we are.”

               “You can’t just do nothing! What if this was any other child –”

               “Harry Potter is not just any other child.”

               “You realize that this is almost exactly how You-Know-Who came to be! An orphaned boy in an –”

               “Now wait a minute,” Fudge stopped dead in his tracks and glared at Severus. “Mr. Potter has shown no signs of becoming a dark wizard, unlike You-Know-Who, who had been showing signs since he was a small boy. You cannot compare the two, they are entirely different situations.”

               “Are they?” Severus sneered.    

               “Yes! And furthermore, Mr. Potter has not had any complaints himself of his life at home and of how his relatives treat him.”

               “What abused child wants to admit that –”

               “And as difficult as this decision is, in the best interest of the boy, he will remain with his relatives. Until he graduates from Hogwarts and can live on his own. That is my final say on this topic. Now if you excuse me, I have an important meting to attend.”

               And with that, Fudge quickly stormed away, leaving behind a fuming Severus.                

               Later that evening, Severus found himself at Hog’s Head drinking firewhiskey straight from the bottle. He didn’t care that it burned his throat, in fact, he embraced the feeling. He had several colorful words on the tip of his tongue that he knew he would spit out should anyone attempt to talk to him. Why did he bother himself with Potter? Why had he even gotten involved? Of course, anything he did would prove futile. What made him think that he could get the Boy-Who-Lived any help? The joke was definitely on him.

               The Hog’s Head at least offered him some privacy. Despite the bar being one small, dirty, and dingy room with rough wooden tables and a stone floor so dirty it could be mistaken for open ground, it was a place few were ever in at a given time. And Severus needed that alone time. He just needed to remind himself that Potter wasn’t his business. Severus forced down another sip of the strong drink.

               They were all a disgrace! Severus thought angrily in his head. All of them – the ministry, Albus, those bloody muggles! Severus forcefully swallowed another sip.

               The door to the pub creaked opened. Severus didn’t bother looking up until the footsteps stopped next to his table. Glancing up with just his eyes, he noticed Minerva standing over him, her arms crossed. Deciding to ignore her, he took another sip of his drink.

               “Well,” Minerva said, brushing off the chair across from Severus with a Daily Prophet. She sat down and stared at Severus intently. “I heard from Albus that you had gone to the ministry to discuss a possible new arrangement for Mr. Potter. He told me it was unsuccessful.”

               Severus remembered returning to the Headmaster’s office and yelling at the man about the lack of productivity and care for a child’s safety and welfare. Albus had said nothing the entre time Severus had shouted at him and berated the man and the ministry. Surely Albus was used to his temper. After he had gotten everything off his chest, Severus had stormed out of the office without so much as hearing one word come out of Albus’s mouth.

               “Was that all he said?” Severus asked. Nothing about his tantrum?

               “He also said you were quite upset about the decision to leave Mr. Potter in his relatives’ care.”

               “He’ll be dead before his second year,” Severus said, sipping the firewhiskey again.

               “You don’t know that for sure,” Minerva said, reaching over and snatching the bottle from Severus. “That boy is rather resourceful. That’s a trait Slytherin’s pride themselves on, isn’t it? Besides, if it really concerns you, why don’t you get more involved in his life? Be that male role model I told you about. Perhaps a few visits in the summer with him. If not to get to know the boy, then at the very least to make sure he is alive and healthy.”

               “Are you kidding me? That child hates me. Why don’t you get involved?”

               Severus reached for the bottle, but Minerva pulled it out of his reach.

               “I concern myself with far too many students over the summer as it is. Unless you’ve forgotten, I am the main professor they send out to talk to Muggleborns’ parents about Hogwarts and the wizarding world.”

               “I am done helping any student for a long time, Minerva. Now, will you give me back my whiskey!?”

               “No. You cannot do this to yourself every time you face a challenge you can’t solve. This isn’t the answer. And it isn’t healthy.”

               “I’ll do as I please, thank you, Minerva.” Severus reached over and snatched the bottle from her, taking a sip from it, the burn scratching at his throat. “I didn’t ask for you to come here.”

               Minerva sighed and stood up, wrapping her cloak around her tighter.

               “Fine. Just don’t bother coming back to the school if you drink yourself to a stupor. I can put up with many things, Severus, but a miserable drunk is not one of them. You are not your father. You can be better if you choose.”

               Severus merely took another sip, earning a defeated sigh from Minerva. He watched as the older woman walked out of the pub, briefly wondering how she even knew to find him here. It shouldn’t have surprised him, though, considering his habits. Severus sighed himself, sipping at the drink, gripping the bottle tightly in his hand.

               He stared out a filthy window, not that he could really see through it. Could he be better than this? He needed this drink. But did he really? He felt like he did. He raised the glass to his lips but didn’t drink from it. He did have classes to teach tomorrow and a no-show would look poorly on him. But the stress of the day was still eating away at him. He needed the drink. Did he –?

               Severus forced himself to pull the bottle away from his lips. He sighed miserably before shoving his chair back and throwing on his cloak. Maybe a long walk back to Hogwarts would help soothe the rest of those nerves away. Why did Potter’s case bother him so much anyway?

               Severus left the Hog’s Head and began to walk back to Hogwarts. Why did he even care about Potter’s home life? That question had been bothering him since he had gotten involved.

               Severus closed his eyes, feeling a bit lightheaded. He craved to finish that whiskey, but he urged himself to keep walking away. He would not be his father. Not tonight.

               He had to let go of this thing with Potter. It was going to be the death of him if he didn’t. But he was in too deep now. Could he let it all go? Could he just push this incident behind him?

               Severus breathed in the chilly night air that burned his throat just as painfully as the firewhiskey had. He didn’t think he could let this go. But what could he do? Potter was stuck at his relatives on the Ministry’s orders. The boy would suffer under those muggles care. And with no upper hand, Severus had to accept that fate for Potter, even if it crippled him. And it was. And it was all because of that stubborn, reckless, insolent brat.

 

To be continued...


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