My Little Runaway by krosi
Summary: After little Harry Potter runs away from his relatives’ home for the sixth time, Albus decides something drastic must happen. Instead of sending a friendly witch from family services like he had done before, he sends Severus Snape in hopes of scaring the boy into staying put. But when a blizzard interferes with plans, Severus learns why Harry keeps running away and a change of plans ensues.
Categories: Parental Snape > Guardian Snape Main Characters: .Snape and Harry (required)
Snape Flavour: Snape Comforts, Out of Character Snape, Snape is Stern
Genres: General, Hurt/Comfort
Media Type: None
Tags: Alternate Universe
Takes Place: 0 - Pre Hogwarts (before Harry is 11)
Warnings: Abusive Dursleys
Prompts: Runaway
Challenges: Runaway
Series: None
Chapters: 34 Completed: No Word count: 163347 Read: 107684 Published: 23 Oct 2017 Updated: 08 Jan 2024
Twenty Questions by krosi

Harry happily sat down at the table for dinner. He was glad Mr. Snape was back from teaching classes. It had been quite lonely all day. Until Minny showed up. She made things a lot more fun, especially the cool twinkling puzzle and the new robot toy. He set his new toy on the table and wound it up to watch it walk around. Minny was nice; he’d like to see her again. Although, meeting her made him wonder how . . .

               “Toys off the table,” Mr. Snape said in a stern voice as he sat down at the table.

               Harry blushed and quickly set the toy on the floor. Since when were toys ever allowed on the table? Even at his aunt and uncle’s, toys were never on the table. How could he be so stupid to think that that rule would change here? There were normal rules that everyone should know.

               “I’d rather you put that toy on your bed, but for now it can remain there,” Mr. Snape continued. “Our dinner should be arriving shortly. Tomorrow, all toys stay on your bed or in the living area.”

               “Yes, sir,” Harry said. Harry remembered his thoughts about Minny. “Mr. Snape? How did Minny know my name?”

               “Well, since I can accurately assume you didn’t tell her your name, you are rather famous in the wizarding world. I’d say anyone who sees your scar will know your name. And some will just have to look at you and know you. You’re like a mirror image of your father.”

               Mr. Snape made a face as he said the last phrase, a face like he had tasted something awful. Harry paid little attention to that though, too curious about why he would be famous. He was a nobody. He lived in a cupboard under the stairs. He always did freaky things. And then he’d always run away. He was a bad boy.

               “I’m not famous. I’m just a freak.”

               Mr. Snape’s face seemed to darken, and the man just stared at Harry, making the boy slowly grow uncomfortable. Silence followed for several long seconds and Harry squirmed slightly under the unyielding eyes of the professor.

               “New rule,” Mr. Snape finally spoke, “you are never allowed to say that word again. If you do, I’ll hex your mouth full of suds.”

               Harry made a face himself at the image that presented in his mind. He didn’t want that to happen. But how could he avoid saying it when it was what he was? He couldn’t possibly be famous! Could he?

               “You are not a freak, Harry,” Mr. Snape spoke up again. “Far from it.”

               Harry remembered that Mr. Snape said something about his scar. Is that what made him famous?

               “Is my scar famous?” Harry asked.

               Mr. Snape snorted, but Harry wasn’t sure what was so funny. Mr. Snape said, “In a sense, yes. Your scar is kind of what made you famous. Or at least, how you got it. Do you . . . know how you got it?”

               “In a car accident.”

               “A car accident? No-no, who told you that. Wait, don’t answer that.”

               Harry watched as Mr. Snape sighed heavily, pinching the bridge of his nose. The man was quiet again for a few seconds before his dark eyes looked up at him.

“You see, Harry, there are good wizards and witches, and bad wizards and witches – just like how there are good people and bad people. Understand?”         

               Harry nodded. He knew how there were good and bad people. Bad people went to prison and slept in cupboards. Good people get good food three times a day. And lots of toys. And new clothes and not Dudley’s old ones. At least, that’s what Aunt Petunia always said.

               “Your parents were good people, Harry. They were Aurors, actually. Very good people.” Harry made a confused face that Mr. Snape must have noticed because the man said, “aurors are like . . . err, police, in a sense. Your parents fought bad people and protected good people.”

               Harry nodded with a smile. That he understood. It was nice hearing good things about his parents. Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon never had anything good to say. Maybe they didn’t know his parents as well as they thought they did.

               “Before you were even born,” Mr. Snape continued, “there was a dark wizard – a bad wizard – who wanted power over the wizarding world; immortality, or to live forever; and to rid the world of muggles, or people without magic.”

               “Is it possible to live forever?” Harry asked, curious.

               “Well,” Mr. Snape drummed the table with his fingers, “there are ways to . . . extend life. But in my opinion, it is quite impossible to live forever. Anyway, one night a prophesy was told about someone who could defeat this dark wizard, someone born at the end of July.”

               “My birthday is the thirty-first. Me?”

               “You were an option. Your parents knew this, and they hid from this dark wizard. But . . . long story short, he found your parents hiding place and, though they did their best to protect – your mother even jumped in front of a killing curse for you – both of your parents were killed, and then he tried to kill you. But because of your mother’s sacrifice for you, the curse . . . didn’t kill you. That’s how you got that scar. And that is why you are famous – for surviving a killing curse.”

               “So . . .” Harry frowned. That didn’t sound at all like the story his aunt and uncle told him. “Mum and Dad didn’t die in a car crash? They weren’t good-for-nothing drunks?”

               “Excuse me? Absolutely not!” Mr. Snape exclaimed. “Your mother . . . and your father, they were heroes, Harry. Very good people.”
               Harry’s lip trembled, and his eyes burned as they watered. “They died because of me?”

               “What? No! You’re getting the wrong idea – they died for you. They were protecting you from a very bad man. He would have gone after you no matter what. You did nothing wrong. You were a baby. The Dark Lord is to blame for their deaths, not you.”

               “The Dark Lord?” Harry asked, looking at Mr. Snape through watery eyes. “Was that his name?”

               Harry watched as Mr. Snape seemed to pale and the man just stared at him, though his eyes seemed a bit distant, like maybe the man was thinking. Harry looked down, wondering if he had asked the wrong question. His eyes hurt, and he rubbed at them. His aunt and uncle had lied to him about his parents. They were good people! He knew that! He always knew that! But why would they lie to him? And why would a mean person kill his parents? How could anyone be so mean? Harry sniffed as tears fells from his eyes. He did make freaky things happen. Even as a baby.

               “Are you crying?” Mr. Snape asked, his tone evident of disbelief. “There’s no need to cry, I . . . maybe it was too much, too soon?”

               Harry just shrugged, still sniffling and rubbing at the tears. He shouldn’t be crying – sniveling freaks were punished. Mr. Snape didn’t seem to have any intention of punishing him. He hadn’t before. In fact, tears seemed to make the man stop asking questions and it also seemed to make him . . . nicer, dare he say? Well, in moments he was being a little too growls and yells. Harry sniffed again, unable to stop his tears.

               Suddenly, a hand clasped Harry’s shoulder. Harry looked at the hand and over at Mr. Snape. The man was frowning and seemed uncomfortable as he just rested his hand on Harry’s shoulder. Then, he patted the boy’s shoulder as he said, “there, there.”

               Harry shot out of his seat and quickly wrapped his arms around Mr. Snape, hugging the man tightly around his midsection. Mr. Snape tensed and didn’t move, but Harry refused to let go. He just wanted comfort. He wanted a way to end the flow of tears. He had never been allowed to hug his aunt or uncle, but Mr. Snape had yet to push him away. But if the man did, he might just lose himself in a flood of tears. He clung tighter to Mr. Snape, hoping the man would give him some form of comfort.

Then, the man patted his back in randomly paced thumps. They were a bit harder than a nice pat but not too hard to really hurt. Harry would have liked them to be a bit gentler but he wasn’t going to tell Mr. Snape anything. He would take whatever comfort he could get. They were distracting him from his terrible thoughts though, so Harry didn’t mind.

               “There, there,” Mr. Snape said again, “err, better now?”

               A hug would have been nice, but Harry wasn’t going to push his luck with Mr. Snape. He did nothing to deserve a hug. The pats were nice though. Harry nodded his head, letting go of Mr. Snape, who gently pushed him back into his seat.

               “I’m sorry,” Harry felt the need to say. He shouldn’t have jumped on Mr. Snape like that.

               “You’ve nothing to be sorry for. You were upset.”

               “Master Snape, sir,” squeaked Eve as she popped into the room, startling Harry. “Yous dinner is ready.”

               “Thank you, Eve,” Mr. Snape seemed to sigh with relief as she popped away and dinner appeared. “Here we go. Steak, mashed potatoes, with steamed carrots and green beans. Doesn’t that look good? Here, I have another appetite stimulator I want you to take.”

               Harry obediently accepted the strange glass Mr. Snape called a vial and took a sip. He hated this odd tasting thing. He hoped Mr. Snape didn’t give him these strange medicines he called potions often. But the food did look really good. Harry handed the vial back to Mr. Snape and wiped at his eyes one last time. Eve’s appearance brought up another question Harry had from earlier.

               “Mr. Snape?”

               “Yes?” Mr. Snape set to work cutting up his steak, looking a bit annoyed at yet another question.

               “Why does Eve call you Master?”

               “She’s being respectful.”

               “Should I call you Master, then?”

               Mr. Snape paused and looked up at Harry with a befuddled look. “No,” he said softly, as though his voice was miles away from his thoughts. Then, Mr. Snape seemed to refocus, and he shook his head firmly. “No, that wouldn’t be appropriate. You may continue to address me as you do.”

               “Oh. Why does she have to call you Master?”

               “She doesn’t have to, she just chooses to. Now be quiet and eat.”

               Harry picked up his fork and stabbed the big piece of steak. He directed the steak to the edge of his plate, then leaned down and bit at it, trying to pull off a piece with his teeth.

               “What are you doing?” Mr. Snape snapped. “Sit up! Use your knife and cut the steak in pieces. No, not like that – here, let me . . .”

               Harry allowed Mr. Snape to take the fork and knife and show him how to properly hold the utensils and cut the meat. Harry tried to fight the warmth spreading across his cheeks from his lack of experience with eating some foods. He had never really had steak before and the bite he had gotten was so juicy! But he had to eat the right way – not like an ungrateful brat. Mr. Snape was helping him though. Harry accepted the utensils back from Mr. Snape and allowed the man to adjust his hold. Then, he cut a piece off the steak himself.

               “Good,” Mr. Snape nodded, sitting back down in his own seat. “I expect you to eat those vegetables as well.”

               “Yes, sir.”

               They ate in silence for a few moments, Harry thinking about his first day with Mr. Snape. It had been rather lonely, but now that Mr. Snape was back, it would be better. Just like the time at the hotel, surely. And Minny had been a great bonus! She was so cool! A thought struck Harry suddenly.

               “Mr. Snape?”

               “Yes?”

               “Can you turn into a cat?”

               “No.”

“Oh. Can I turn into a cat?”

“No.”

“Oh. How can Minny turn into a cat?”

“She is an animagus. She trained herself to become one.”

“Oh. Can I train to become a . . . animagus thingy?”

“To become an animagus requires advanced magic beyond your years, Harry. That is a very hard magic to learn and there’s a lot you need to go through in order to become one. And then there’s the whole process of registering with the ministry, but in simpler terms, you are too young at the moment to attempt anything.”

“Oh.”

Harry’s face fell, and he stared down sadly at his food. It would have been so cool if he could have turned into a cat. Was that the only animal one could turn into. Harry figured he’d never know, since he wouldn’t become one anytime soon. He puckered out his lower lip, staring down at his half eaten plate.

“You know,” Mr. Snape suddenly said, “your father was an animagus. A big stag.”

Harry looked up at the man. His father could turn into an animal? How brilliant was that! But wait, “What’s a stag?”

“It’s a deer. Like this.” Mr. Snape made a weird movement with his wand and a small hologram of a deer appeared, silvery in color, with large antlers on its head. Harry stared in awe and laughed as the stag sneezed on him before disappearing. Mr. Snape snorted as well, but then frowned and returned back to eating.

Harry did the same, a small smile still on his face. His father had been an animagus! That was incredible! And a stag. Harry wondered if his father would have been a really big one. He couldn’t really picture an accurate size, considering he had never seen a buck before. Mr. Snape seemed to know a lot about his parents.

“Mr. Snape?”

“What now?”

“Were you friends with my parents?”

Mr. Snape fell silent, his fork clattering on his plate rather clumsily. Mr. Snape picked it up again.

“. . . I was with your mother. Not your father.”

“Why not my Dad?”

“I just . . . enough questions. Finish your vegetables.”

Harry ate a bite of green beans. Why didn’t Mr. Snape want to talk about his parents? Maybe he was sad they were gone. He was so stupid to ask a question like that. Clearly Mr. Snape was upset that they were dead – or at least his mother. Mr. Snape had been friends with her, so he had known her, unlike Harry. Besides, it really wasn’t Harry’s business to ask these questions anyway. Children were meant to be seen, not heard. Uncle Vernon taught him that.     

After a minute, Mr. Snape spoke again.

“I’d like to reinforce that when I say a room is off limits, it is off limits. You are not to enter my study or lab again, understood?”

“Yes, sir. But it looks fun.”

“What does?”

“Your lab. Where you make potions. I want to make a potion.”

“My lab is not a playground. It can be very dangerous. Think of potions like . . . explosive chemicals. One wrong move and you can cause yourself a lot of damage.”

“Can I maybe watch you sometime, then?” Harry asked. He really wanted to see a potion up close. If it was too dangerous to make one himself, maybe he could watch Mr. Snape make one. Mr. Snape sighed as he seemed to stare off at something across the room. Harry followed his gaze but didn’t see anything. He looked back at Mr. Snape, who looked down at him.

“Maybe.”

It wasn’t a no, so Harry gladly accepted the answer with a smile.

“I said maybe.” Mr. Snape stated again firmly.

“I know. I’ll be really good.”

“Hmm.” Mr. Snape went back to eating. Harry did the same.

 

Severus sat in his armchair, looking over the schedule he had created for Harry and the list of rules he had yet to hang somewhere. He had added the “the word freak is forbidden” rule. He had to convince that boy that he was not a freak. He had sent Harry off to brush his teeth and dress for bed. However, his mind was far from working on the schedule and rules. His thoughts were back on the conversations he had had during dinner with the boy. The boy knew so little about who he was, what had happened to his parents, and even about magic in general. It was frustrating really. And he was the one left to answer all the questions. None of this was fair.

If Albus had just removed the boy from that despicable family to begin with, he wouldn’t have to deal with Harry. He never would have met the boy. And now that he had Harry in his care, Severus had no choice but to expose the boy to the wizarding world. Whether that was what Albus wanted or not.

While explaining Harry’s past, the origin of the scar and death of his parents, he had omitted several details the boy could live without for the time being. He still cringed at his slip though. He hadn’t meant to refer to that “dark wizard” as the Dark Lord. It just came so naturally to him he thought nothing of it. He briefly wondered how Harry would feel if he knew that Mr. Snape had been the one to tell the Dark Lord of the prophesy, resulting in the events that had occurred.

If he had just kept his goddamed mouth shut . . .

It was history now, Severus sighed. No one could rewrite history; one could simply learn from it. And he would make no more mistakes. He had to do what was best for Harry; he had to do what Lily would want for her son.

And Lily would want her little boy in a good home, with loving parents who actually cared about his wellbeing. Severus would make sure of it. He made a promise – not to Albus, not to the Dark Lord – but to Lily.

“Mr. Snape?”

Severus blinked and looked won at Harry standing in front of his chair, holding a book open to a page with a finger pointing to a word. The boy was dressed in the pajamas from last night.

“Yes?”

“What does burrow mean?”

“Burrow? What are you reading?”

“Leo the Lop,” Harry held up the book that had a long-eared rabbit on the cover. “Minny gave it to me.”

“So I see,” Severus sighed. “Well, a burrow is a hole in the ground, usually dug out by some kind of animal. Rabbits in your case.”

“But it says the “entire burrow of bunnies,” Harry read. “That doesn’t make sense if it means holes.”

“Well, it’s like . . .”

Severus paused as Harry crawled up into the chair Severus was in, holding the book between them. Heck, the boy was practically on his lap. In Severus’s opinion, Harry was too comfortable around him. It made Severus uncomfortable. He was silent for a moment as he stared down at the boy and the book, before clearing his throat and deciding to answer the question as quickly as he could so the boy would leave him be.

“Well, here, burrow refers to a group. Rabbits make burrows, holes in the ground to live in. So, sometimes they are called a burrow of bunnies when seen in a group. Does that make sense now?”

Harry smiled up at him and nodded but didn’t move off Severus’s lap. Instead, he leaned more against the man. “Can you read it to me?”

Severus stared down at Harry. Was this child serious? He was not reading a book to him! The boy could clearly read fine on his own, surprisingly.

“Just until I have to go to bed?”

“You . . . you should go get in bed now. You need your sleep.”

“Just a couple pages? Please? It’ll help me fall asleep faster.”

Severus bit back a growl, biting his cheek. The nerve of this brat. Severus stared down at the book the boy was holding and back at Harry. Well, if Harry was promising to go to bed faster, then he might as well as indulge just this once.

“Fine, but you better go right to sleep after.”

Harry smiled and nodded as Severus took the book in his own hands.

“I mean it, right to sleep. And I’m only reading a couple pages.”

Harry nodded again, snuggling against Severus’s side.

“This will not become a nightly ritual, understand?”

Harry nodded again, saying, “Can you read it now?”

“Mind your cheek.”

Severus cleared his throat and began reading the page they were on. He read the next page as well, before a thought occurred to him. He should probably make sure Harry was aware of his plans. The plans to find the boy a good home. He had mentioned it before but perhaps he should drill the message home.

“Harry, you do realize that you being here is only temporary.”

The boy’s green eyes flicked up to his dark ones, sparkling behind the glasses the child wore, reminding Severus of both Lily and James Potter.

“What do you mean?” Harry asked.  

“I mean, I’d like to find you a suitable family. You deserve better and . . .”

“I like being with you.”

“I . . . you don’t know that. You’ve hardly been here two days.”

“But before that, we were at the hotel.”

“I know, it’s just, you need a . . . a proper family, maybe a mother and father, siblings, perhaps?”

“I don’t want that. I want to be with you.”

“Harry, I can’t . . . This is a very complicated . . .” Severus sighed heavily, resting the book over his knee as he focused on Harry. “Remember when I told you about that dark wizard who murdered your parents?”

“Yes.”

“Well, because of that, there are . . . dangerous people who would love nothing more than to harm you. You need to be somewhere safe and in a place where you can be protected.”

“I feel safe with you. You can protect me.”

“No . . . no, not me. You need a . . . a home. It’s . . . complicated, Harry.”

“Is it?” Harry pouted up at him. “You keep saying that, but . . . does it have to be?”

 “Enough of this,” Severus groaned out. “Just remember that this is temporary.”

“Okay,” Harry sighed defeatedly. “But you can read to me, still, right?”

“Of course. But just a couple more pages. Then it’s bedtime.”

And so, the story of Leo the Lop was told: how he couldn’t even tell his ears hanged in an unusual manner—but the other bunnies noticed and started making fun of Leo for it. Leo didn’t like not being normal, so he tried to change the natural direction of his loppy ears, mustering the energy of the tiny muscles at their base to hold them straight up. But when that fails, he hangs upside down from a tree limb to let gravity do the work. That is when a possum tells him that he looked normal before, when he was on the ground. The story ended with "If we're normal and Leo is normal, then normal is whatever you are!"

Severus finished and closed the book before looking down at Harry, surprised to find the boy sound asleep against his side. He hadn’t even noticed the boy doze off. Then why on earth didn’t he stop reading the silly book!? Severus sighed as he wondered how to maneuver out of the chair without waking Harry. The boy had to go get in his bed, he might as well as wake him.

Severus rested a hand on the boy’s shoulder to shake him awake, then paused, staring down at the peaceful face.

He couldn’t wake him. He would feel terrible for disrupting his sleep.

Severus gathered his arms carefully and unsurely under the boy, pausing when Harry shifted slightly. When Harry was still again, Severus slowly lifted the boy up and stood from the chair, allowing the book to fall to the ground. He carried the slumbering child into the bedroom and to the small bed, where he laid him down and pulled the covers securely around him.

He watched as Harry snuggled into the pillow, a small smile gracing his lips against his will. He shook his head to wipe the smile away. What was he doing?

Severus sighed. If only Harry could be as easily convinced as Leo the Lop that he was as normal as everyone else and not a freak. Severus closed his eyes. Great, now he was referencing children’s books. Next, he will be singing lullabies and kissing booboos. Just lovely. Severus walked out of the bedroom, closing the door behind him. He needed to work on grading anyway. Perhaps that would help clear his mind.         

 

To be continued...
End Notes:
Disclaimer: I do not own Leo the Lop by Stephen Cosgrove. Also, I will try to adjust some of these chapters so they look more appropriate.


This story archived at http://www.potionsandsnitches.org/fanfiction/viewstory.php?sid=3443