Song of The Sea by Hopeless Wanderer
Summary: After the untimely death of his wife, Severus is forced to leave his infant son, Harry, into the care of his childhood rivals for safety as the war ruthlessly forges on.


*Touched up and edited!
Categories: Parental Snape > Biological Father Snape Main Characters: .Snape and Harry (required), Dumbledore, Hagrid, James, Lily, Original Character, Other, Remus, Sirius, Voldemort
Snape Flavour: Snape is Angry, Canon Snape, Snape Comforts, Snape is Controlling, Snape is Depressed, Snape is Kind, Snape is Loving, Out of Character Snape, Overly-protective Snape, Snape is Secretive, Snape is Stern
Genres: Action/Adventure, Angst, Drama, Family, Horror, Hurt/Comfort, Tragedy
Media Type: None
Tags: Alternate Universe, Baby fic, Child fic, Disguised!Snape, Hufflepuff!Harry, Incognito!Snape, Kidnapped, Physical Impairment
Takes Place: 0 - Before Harry is born, 0 - Pre Hogwarts (before Harry is 11), 1st summer before Hogwarts
Warnings: Alcohol Use, Character Death, Out of Character, Romance/Slash, Torture, Violence
Challenges: None
Series: None
Chapters: 4 Completed: No Word count: 23736 Read: 3638 Published: 04 Jun 2021 Updated: 21 Jun 2021
Story Notes:
Hello!

I thought it was time I came back to this story; I am revising, and editing the five uploaded chapters, whilst writing new ones.

Weekly updates on Mondays!
Chapter 1 by Hopeless Wanderer
Author's Notes:
I edited and revised this chapter to the best of my abilities, hope you guys enjoy it!


* Next update on Monday~
He was late.

He knew that he was.

All this time, he was afraid that he would have been too late regardless of his haste, but after all the hurrying, it was futile. There was no going against time.

His ragged breath whistled in the air and his robes hassled the greedy branches that cut into his vision, they were shredded among the sharp edges. The faster he ran, the more brutal the tears in his robes became, but he didn’t care. He couldn’t bring himself to; he just had to make sure.

The night was clear, not a single cloud in the sky. It was a beautiful night, a beautiful day, and he still wasn’t far enough to apparate from the borders. He wasn’t going to make it, and even if he was quick enough, there would be no point. He already knew that Lily was dead.

The odds were impossibly against her survival. But Severus hoped. He did. He really did.

He pushed his lungs into submission and ran the last few feet before falling to the ground, his legs giving away from sheer exhaustion; he had run all the way from Hogsmeade’s train station –just near the protective wards surrounding Hogwarts- to the headmaster’s office on the second floor, only to find the man gone. That was when he knew something was skew, and he just knew it was Lily.

Without a pause, he stormed the office and ran back into the halls. Frantically pushing through the barreling swarms of students and running out of the castle, it was right after dinner time, by his rough estimate, but honestly, it was all a blur.

His mind was reeling a hundred paces ahead of his running legs.

He thought of a hundred possibilities; should he send a Patronus? But that was too conspicuous, it would give them away, on the rare possibility, that the Dark Lord had no found them, and Lily and Harry were safe, hiding away.

Should he call authorities? Maybe Aurors?

Would it even matter? If the Dark Lord had found his family then it didn’t even matter if authorities were called. He was too fast, ferocious and without an ounce of clemency. If they were found, then they were dead without question.

The young man crawled out of the gate’s borders on shaky knees, his skin grazing on the harsh, cold cobblestones, as he tried to ignore the heartburn clawing at his chest. He got his wand out and shakily got back to his feet.

“Expecto…Expecto…” he couldn’t finish the incantation, flashes of Lily’s dead body and Harry’s glazed over green eyes, lying prone in his crib blurred his vision,

‘No,’ he chided himself, ‘No, don’t be like that, Severus. Don’t be fucking like that,’

He didn’t know if they were dead. Not yet. He had to do this.

Severus took a deep breath. It took everything out of him, not to collapse on the spot and weep for someone to come and save him, save them.

But then he thought of his wife, waltzing around their living room with Harry in her arms, singing and laughing as their demented cat trotted between her feet. Severus remembered Harry’s shrill giggles and Lily’s glinting eyes.

He couldn’t leave that to chance.

“Expecto Patronum,” He whizzed out, perhaps for the last time in his life, flicking his wrist, and a flickering raven burst out of his wand, hysterically flapping its non-corporal wings.

“Lily,” Severus called out. “Don’t stay in the house, something’s wrong. My arm…there’s something wrong with the mark. Take Harry. Just go. Don’t waste time taking anything else, leave the files… Just take our son and leave.”

The raven disappeared and Severus only managed to take a few steps, readying himself for apparition before a searing pain tore through his forearm. Everything went black for half a second, maybe too long. Or maybe not nearly enough time for Severus to catch his breath.

The pain throbbed in a way that the young man believed there wouldn’t be any arm left if it kept on burning; it went deep down to his bones and scalded the skin of his forearm.

But the pain that went straight to his heart was one of another kind; the burn of his dark mark was the burn of victory, one of acclaim. The dark lord was euphoric, gleeful, and victorious. The pain that the young potion master felt was of utter misery and grief.

It was too late.

Severus didn’t dare waste another second; he could care less about killing himself by leaving half of his body behind or losing a limb. He closed his eyes, envisioned their hiding place in Godric’s Hollow and apparated without a second thought.

Spirals of smoke engulfed the green skull in the sky, enhancing nausea and the blurring in his eyes. Severus didn’t know how, but somehow he was already racing into the rubbles that littered the front of their ruined house.

With throbbing hands, he tore his way into the cottage, ignoring the smell of burnt flesh that hung around the living room and their dead cat, Charlie, collapsed under rubbles, their fallen roof. He already knew that the cat was the source of the abhorrent smell and felt disgustedly relieved. With a sense of doom, the potion master stumbled to the stairs, holding on to the walls for support.

Shattered glasses, from the broken picture frames, crunched under his feet and dug into his torn black robes, firmly embedded in his boots. Wood splinters from the plasters on the wall and the roof were sprinkled down on the last few steps to the second floor.

It was as if a hurricane had formed right inside their home.

Severus numbly dragged himself up the stairs, a loud whimper caught prisoner in his bulged throat; he wanted to scream in anguish, to tear his skin into ribbons, gauge his own eyes out just so he won’t have to see his wife dead on the ground.

Lily. His perfect Lily. His wife. His best friend. The mother of his child, Lily.

She was partially jammed under the roof, debris and large bricks piled upon her lower back, leaving only her upper body visible. Severus saw her hands, outstretched towards the nursery’s door, her green eyes were glazed over and frozen in their widened state, her mouth pruned.

Severus finally let out an anguished cry, falling to his knees next to the woman he loved and delicately moved the debris from her back, carelessly throwing them around, not mindful of the grime gathering under his desperate fingernails.

There was no question that she was gone, and Severus feared that he already knew that, even while sending that Patronus, or even as soon as he saw Albus’s office deserted and harried.

The sweet aroma of her perfume engulfed all his sense as he embraced the cold motionless body of his first and last love, gently rocking them both back and forth, utterly consumed with grief.

He almost didn’t hear it at first, but his early sleepless nights as a parent had accustomed all of his senses to his child, so much so, that Severus didn’t have to hear the quiet sniffle a second time to bolt out of his place in a panic.

He warily repositioned his dead wife back on the ground and frantically crawled to the nursery. He budged the ruined door and unhinged the door frames with his hands before the mangled door finally broke down.

He had completely forgotten Harry the moment he saw Lily’s body.

The possibility that his baby was trapped in here for merlin knew how long, scared and alone, only added to the unimaginable guilt and expanded the hole gaping his chest.

Debris covered the ground and the roof was partially destroyed, but the crib and the area surrendering it was suspiciously clear of any rubble. Harry sat petrified, in the middle of the wooden crib, one thumb crammed in his mouth and the other clutching the bars on his crib. His forehead was bleeding and his eyes were glazed over with tears.

Harry was by no means a quiet child, but he made no sound or indication of seeing him after Severus forcefully entered the small nursery room.

“Oh, Harry,” Severus muttered, almost falling over as he raced over to his son. He gently reached down and tried to pick the boy as slowly as he could manage with his hands shaking, wrecked with grief and anxiety.

Harry wouldn’t let go of the bar, kept whimpering as his father persisted. “Come on now,” the man pleaded. “It’s over, alright?” another sniffle replied his begging and Severus was too exhausted to try arguing with his traumatized one-year-old. He wanted to just sit by the crib and cry with him.

He crouched down next to the crib and reached over for Harry’s face, attempting to clean the dried blood to take a good look at the head wound. The child’s face crumpled the moment Snape’s hand was close, and the moment his hand touched the baby’s face, Harry started sobbing in earnest.

Severus panicked and stood. “Shh…Shh, Harry. I know baby, I know.” He picked him up and cradled the small child to his chest, hushing him and swaying in hopes to calm the hysterical cries.

Harry’s cries didn’t die down no matter what he did. He paced around the nursery for what seemed like ages, even cried alongside the child on the ground for longer than that, and rocked them both back and forth the way Lily would have done.

Nothing was working, Harry wasn’t using his words, he wasn’t calling for Lily, didn’t even call Severus’s name the way he normally would have.

It broke Severus’s heart, to see how frightened Harry was; the child must have seen something to be so terrified. Maybe he had heard Lily’s screams in the hallway. It didn’t look like anyone had broken into the nursery as the door was jammed shut from the commotion that was caused outside, but at this point, Severus couldn’t rule anything out.

Harry’s fingers closed around the front of his robes in a small fist, and his face was buried in Severus’s neck, the child wasn’t going to stop soon, but Severus knew he didn’t have much time left.

If Harry was alive, then they were going to come back for him, the dark mark never left a victim behind, they were going to come back for Harry and Severus couldn’t spare any more time than he already had.

He tenderly reached out and manoeuvred the child in front of him, making him sniffle in distress.

“Daddy needs to look at that, alright sweetie?” Severus muttered softly, caressing Harry’s hair with numb fingers.

“Dada.” The baby croaked out, his face breaking as a small pathetic sob escaped his pouted lips.

“Shh, it’s okay now, Daddy’s here, hmm?” Severus brushed Harry’s blood-caked hair out of his forehead and fished out his wand. Harry flailed upon seeing the object and started crying again. Snape warily threw the wand at the other side of the room, pressing Harry’s face back into his neck.

“Alright, no wand. No magic.”

Harry was afraid of wands. Or of Magic. The revelation only brought on more horror, piling on the dense ball of emotions trapped in Severus’ chest.

Did he know how Lily had died? Had he seen it happen from his nursery? Did someone enter the room after all?

“Harry, use your words baby.” He asked miserably.

The child didn’t respond and Severus was dangerously close to losing it. He didn’t know how to do this without Lily, with her dead body only a room away, with his son somehow injured and too traumatized to even properly cry.

They needed to get out of here, and fast. But Lily was dead and everything felt wrong.

The potion master needed to find Dumbledore and tell him what happened, but had no idea what to do with his wife. He couldn’t just leave her here, and he couldn’t apparate with both her body and their child.

Snape cursed himself and stayed there, swaying on the floor with his son, both crying silently until Harry’s breathing slowed in exhaustion. Severus closed his eyes; this was the first time their son had cried himself to sleep.

Suddenly there was a crash from downstairs, jolting Severus to his feet. The man dodged to find his wand in the rubbles, his heart beating so fast that it was a wonder Harry remained asleep in his arms.

The sounds continued ascending into the staircase, and Severus closed his eyes; they were here for Harry, he couldn’t apparate out in the nursery and he couldn’t fight with a sleeping child in his arms.

He unclasped his robe with one skilled hand and quickly draped the long fabric over Harry’s face and small body, wrapping him while guarding the hallway with his wand.

The child sniffled quietly but didn’t wake. Feeling relief flood in his blood, Severus set the sleeping bundle of robes under the crib, hoping to delay the intruders if they were searching for Harry, and effectively blocking Harry’s face so the child wouldn’t be forced to witness Severus’s death too.

Just as the heavy-footed intruder reached the second floor, did the potion master abandon the child and darted behind the ruined door.

The intruder crashed into the floor and let out a very familiar wail, surprising Severus. Snape swallowed, perking his ears to confirm his suspicions before peeking a glance from the side of the wall.

It was Hagrid. He thought numbly upon seeing the wailing giant, who was cradling his wife. A sudden wave of relief and despair washed over him as he stepped out of his hiding place, his wand still in hand just in case.

“Hagrid.” He called the man, approaching him with caution.

The giant leapt back violently, his pale face hidden behind a wild mane of beard and tracked with colossal tears.

“Se’eus?” the man sniffed in disbelief, his hand still holding Lily’s shoulder. The younger man swallowed his grief and nodded.

“Yes.” He choked out.

Hagrid wiped his face with the sleeve of his threadbare jacket. “I’m so so’ry Se’eus but I’ have to make s-s-s-sure.” The giant stammered.

Severus felt a hot coiling knife stab him in the guts as he nodded. “Of course, Hagrid.” He pulled his wand on his wrist.

“Severus Tobias Snape, the code name is Corax.” His voice broke. “This is my house.”

Hagrid nodded tearfully, looking thoroughly uncomfortable. “Rub’us Hagrid, code name I’ Optio.”

Severus sagged against the wall, staring blankly as Hagrid gently lowered his wife back on the ground and brushed her eyes close, dampening her pale, grey face with tears.

“Har’y? Is he…?” Hagrid choked at the mere thought. Severus only hesitated for a moment before feverishly shaking his head.

“He’s sleeping. They left him alive. The door was jammed from the outside, so I don’t think anyone got in with him, but he’s still injured… his forehead was cut.”

That was all he was capable of. Clinical descriptions. Because if he let himself simmer in the words and what they truly implicated, then he would crumple down and never get up again.

“How did he…?” Hagrid didn’t finish his question, upon seeing Severus’ face.

He was too distraught to question the injury and how his baby got hurt, a pulsing headache pounded in his head and the anxiety was building up as each second passed by. Like a powder keg about to explode, Severus was nearing his end.

“We need to get out of here.” He told the giant, reclining his body to cover Harry’s room from view. He was feeling oddly protective and distrustful of the man; all he wanted was some respite.

A small, muffled wail rose from the nursery and Severus rushed in to get Harry out of his robes, Hagrid stood to watch from the door. Severus continuously muttered apologies as he cradled the small child to his chest, knowing that he had frightened Harry. The splotchy-faced baby trashed in his arms and shrugged the long and heavy robe away from himself.

“Dada!” the boy sobbed.

Severus muttered, “I know, I know,” but he didn’t. He knew nothing. Of what happened and what will and how in the world was he supposed to go on without Lily?

“We nee’ to get ou’ of here’ Se’eus.” The man stated quietly behind them as the wailing got louder. Severus nodded, swaying and pacing around the room, pushing Harry’s face in his shoulder so the child wouldn’t see Lily’s body.

Hagrid didn’t move from his spot and wrung his rough hands together. “I’m so so’ry to ask Sev but… I work for Dumbledo’e… we nee’ the files.”

Severus’ hand went lax on the baby’s head and Harry whimpered when Hagrid was the first person he saw as he turned his face away, his tiny hands curling into Severus’s shirt and his lips quivering as if he was afraid Hagrid was going to take Severus away from him too.

The potion master nodded carefully, settling Harry on his chest before fully turning to face the older man.

“They’re in our room.” He said quietly, gazing at his wife.

Hagrid took off to the end of the hall, exposing Lily both to Harry and his father. Harry’s crying started anew when he saw Lily and Severus cursed himself for not covering the child’s head again.

Harry called for his mother time after time, his voice more shrill with each failed attempt. The scene was so heartbreaking and unbearable for the young father that he carelessly strode out of the room and swept past his wife without a second glance.

Their room was positioned close to the nursery but was a vast disappointment to their master bedroom in their own house. This place was just a transitory safe house. Just for a while. It was never meant to last, minimal effort was put into furnishing it.
How naïve were they, for thinking that this was temporary?

Severus hated every inch of this wretched place, and he always found it easy, to express that hatred when his wife wasn’t around. Because the truth was, no matter how much he complained about the small, frugal cottage, it didn’t stop Lily from loving it.

It was small, warded. It was discreet and it was more than secure for holding the Order’s mission details and operation files. Along with his family. They were bargaining chips.

It always pained Severus, how their worth was tantamount to a bunch of papers. But he didn’t have a say in it.

Lily was one of the very few trusted people that had access to those files and that was most likely the reason for this ambush in the first place, maybe they hadn’t come for his son as Severus originally thought and they just needed the files.

That would explain the Dark Lord’s absence, even though it made no other sense. The attack was supposed to be carried out by him , Severus knew so.

Voldemort wouldn’t endanger himself for operation files, no. He came here for Harry.

Hagrid thwarted all his meagre theories by stepping out of their room with a stack of parchment hustled in his arms.

“I go’ the’ all.” The giant murmured sadly and Severus nodded.

Severus only paused long enough to take Harry’s diaper bag and a few of his toys before they took off the house, with Lily in Hagrid’s arms, and Harry buried inside Severus’s outer robes, only exposed enough to breathe properly and not catch sight of his mother.

As soon as they reached Godric’s Hollow’s graveyard, both men apparated without sparing a glance back at the dark mark, and what it stood for. The muggle repelling charm would wear off any moment now and the place would be swarming with neighbours before order members could arrive.

Chaos ensues in a place that was already wrecked with chaos. It was too ironic to be funny. Too acrid and cruel.

Severus thought of nothing as his feet touched the ground.

He had mastered that art months ago. Thinking about nothing, or rather, thinking about everything and stashing the unwanted ones in the back of his mind, away from seeking eyes, and his own.

He ignored Harry’s discomfort from the apparation, knowing that it was harmless and too trivial to waste time over, and quickly walked ahead of Hagrid. He couldn’t bear to walk beside him, with his wife cradled like that. Not breathing. Not moving. Never singing or kissing or dancing.

Albus was bound to be back in his office by now if he’d sent Hagrid for the Order documents.
Severus needed answers, and Albus needed to have them.

His wife was dead . His son was traumatized , and Severus didn’t even know why. Well, he did know, his mother had just been murdered barely a room away from him. What Severus didn’t know wasn’t the reason why his son was traumatized.

It was whether Harry truly understood what that meant.

How does an infant register and process death, in his mind?

“Chocolate Frog.” Hagrid croaked out from behind and Severus rushed up the stairs, his heart beating as if it was trying to escape his chest.

Dumbledore’s circular and previously vacant office was now filled with three other people aside from the headmaster himself; James Potter and his partner Sirius Black were seated in the comfy chairs facing the headmaster, whilst their werewolf best friend stood next to the fireplace. Six pair of red-rimmed eyes fell upon Severus as he entered.

Severus’s eyes shadowed as he caught the men looking and he stared directly at the old man who was staring out of his window.

“What are they doing here?” he asked tiredly, his arms tightening around his sniffling son.

Albus unclasped his hands from his back and avoided his gaze. His eyes were knowing, but of course, they were. He always knew everything.

“I’m so sorry Severus,” the old man muttered sadly.

Severus could hardly contain his growl. “Sorry?” he hissed in disdain. “My wife is dead,” and he knew , Severus knew that Albus knew, because he always did, “You promised protection and she’s dead.”

Hagrid stood not far behind them, shuffling on his feet, with Lily still in his arms, and Severus spared a moment to throw him a hateful glare.

This was not supposed to happen. It was all wrong.

“Take her body to the infirmary, Hagrid,” Remus interjected softly, guiding the giant to the fireplace. Severus turned his body away and hunched over Harry’s head, blocking his view.

He would grieve alone later, right now; he needed to be strong for his child.

“How did she die?” James Potter asked, mournfully watching his friend’s body disappear in green flames.

“How do you think?” Severus spat.

Black’s face, hardened at the potion master and he gripped James’s hand tightly with both hands.

“How did you know, Severus?” Albus inquired quietly, gesturing at a chair. Severus wanted to sag against the comfortable-looking armchair so badly but paced forward mostly for his son’s sake instead.

Harry was still whimpering after an hour of constant agony and Snape feared for his son’s health.

“My forearm.” It was strangely numb with no sign of pain now, the man thought. “He was happy, you were gone, and I was excluded from the last meeting… I got there too late.”

Albus dropped his head, “We found out mere minutes before you did. The spell was breached but we couldn’t figure out which safe house was under attack. We chose the Longbottoms and we are so sorry, Severus.”

They chose them over his family. No amount of apologies would ever fix something like that. Not now that Lily was gone, and Harry was sobbing in his arms. Not now that everything was wrong.

Severus knew how irrational it was, but he abhorred the Longbottoms, he abhorred kind, sweet Alice and his dutiful husband and their son. He hated them because they were a choice, and Severus’ family wasn’t.

“They have Peter in custody now. We’re so sorry, Severus; we thought… we never would have thought that Peter could ever…” Remus shook his head, unable to continue.

It all meant nothing, to Severus.

“The details of the attack are hazy, my boy, but we’ll have one of the members come with the information in a few hours. I have already heard the rumours. I need you to roll your sleeve up.”

Snape’s heart sank as Remus held his arms out for Harry. The potion master pointedly ignored the offer and stared at the headmaster with confusion.

“What rumours, Albus?”

“I cannot know for sure before our informant arrives, Severus.” the old man replied.

“Roll up your sleeve, my boy.” Black and Potter exchanged an unsure glance while Remus stared fixedly at Harry’s forehead with a frown.

His son obediently settled on his lap, with the potion master supporting him with one arm and rolling up his sleeve with the other, he rolled up a bit of fabric and frowned when his skin didn’t fade into black.

He rolled it up further and then noticed the faint outline of his dark mark in utter shock.

“What does this mean?” he asked faintly, feeling black spots blur his vision. His hold tightened on his child.

Albus stayed silent for a long time, while Black and Lupin spoke in hushed voices near the seats. James’s eyes were solely set on Harry, darting back and forth between his unblemished forearm and his son behind his gold-rimmed glasses.

“He’s not dead, Severus. We are sure of that. However, there seems to be an uprising among Death Eater ranks. I think,” the old man stared at James and then back at him. “That the dark lord is gone. At least temporarily, he was the one to ambush Harry and Lily, Severus. There is simply no other explanation.”

Severus’s body tensed and his breath hitched. “Harry wasn’t attacked. He was in his nursery.” Voldemort wouldn’t have let a jammed door stand in his way if he was that determined to kill his son. But he did. It made no sense.

Nothing made sense.

“He’s injured,” Remus, pointed out with concern, approaching the child with his wand. “I could take a look…” his son swung himself back into Severus’s arms as he saw the wand in Lupin’s hands, crying. Shrieking really.

Severus had never seen Harry behave like this.

“Get away from him,” Surprisingly; it’s not Snape who said that but James Potter, holding his hand out in warning to his friend, while his gaze was intently on the child.

Lupin quickly pocketed his wand and backed away, whilst Sirius watched the interaction with confusion.

“James…” he muttered, looking at his partner.

“It’s a curse scar, Sirius.” The young man told his partner. “I see the dark halo around his head. He was attacked, Snape.” He said the last part to his supposed enemy, his eyes filled with pity.

“There was no one in the room with my son, Potter.” Severus gritted out.

Potter didn’t flinch, shaking his head. “I see it,” he insisted. “The scar on his face, whatever it is, is cursed.” Harry whimpered as he felt all of the eyes on him, he hid his face in Snape’s shirt and whimpered again.

The others frowned sadly at the child’s heartbreaking state, Albus eventually turned to face the messy-haired man. “Are you sure, James?”

Potter pushed his glasses up his nose with his middle finger. “I’m always sure when it comes to these things.” He said, sinking back down on his chair. “Just as I’m sure that, the dark mark on Severus’s forearm is subdued, but not gone. We need to have that scar examined.”

“He’s afraid of wands; I don’t have access to my potions.” Severus apprehensively explained to the headmaster.

“That could be taken care of, my boy. Tipsy?”

“Headmaster sir?”

“Fetch a mild calming draught from Professor Slughorn’s labs, please. We will fix the dosage here.”

“Do I let Professor Slughorn know, sir?” the uneasy elf asked, wringing the hem of its towel with gnarled fingers.

The headmaster smiled kindly at the house-elf and shook his head. “No, I don’t believe that is necessary,”

The house-elf disappeared without a sound and the office fell into a grim silence. Severus felt Harry squirming in his arms, quietly whining and making known his displeasure with the world in its screwed up state.

He knew that Harry must have been hungry and the mere thought of Harry not daring to tell him that, sent his mind in downward spirals.

Harry was such a verbose child, he talked about everything and anything. He used words that baffled Severus, and when he couldn’t find a word to suit his ramblings? He just made up. Severus vividly recalled, one leisurely afternoon spent, with Harry toddling over to him, and yanking on his sleeve.

“Yum yum?” he had said, rubbing on his tummy. And Severus had smiled, exchanging an amused glance with Lily before scooping the child up in his arms.

“Yum yum coming up for Harry,”

Lily was busy with her papers, her brows frowned in concentration, “And an orange for Mommy?”

“What do you think, Harry? Orange for Mommy?”

Harry silence, compared to that day, that moment, was disturbing.

Severus swallowed the bile in his throat and glanced down at his child.

Did he even pack a bottle in the bag? Severus tapped his robe pockets whilst inwardly panicking. What if he couldn’t find a bottle? He couldn’t just let the child go hungry, and Lily wasn’t here and there was no milk and Lily was dead, and the fussing was getting worse…

In full panicking mode, the young father hastily took out the diaper bag, enlarged it with a quick wave of his wand and started rummaging in hopes to find a bottle, as Harry’s snivelling got more pronounced.

Suddenly a waving hand shot into his vision and Severus straightened himself.

“Are you alright there Snape?” Lupin asked cautiously, one of his hands hovering behind Harry in case Severus dropped the child.

Narrowing his eyes in anger, the potion protégé wrapped both arms around his son. “Yes, Lupin,” he replied coldly. “Your help is not required.”

The man held out a vial in front of him and Snape wrenched it from his hand with a malicious glare.

He continued his search for the bottle with more decorum when he felt the others closely ogle him and Harry. No one spoke, no one dared to break the fragile ribbon of silence that swirled and floated in the office, in fears of unleashing the great elephant in the room.

Severus was secretly glad, between everything that had happened and had yet to take place, he was only a whisper away from a mental breakdown.

He almost cried in relief when his hand closed around one of Harry’s spare bottles. The blue bottle sloshed as he drew it out of the bag, and Severus was yet again alleviated to find it filled with milk. He didn’t think he could maintain himself if this went wrong too.

After hastily reheating the bottle with his wand and adding the mild calming draught to the mix, Severus tried to detach Harry’s face from his shirt. This was too awkward, being in an office, right after the death of his wife, feeding his infant son.

It was almost hysterical, and Severus could have laughed. But he didn’t. He didn’t like his chances of seeming sane if he just burst into manic giggles at random.

He nudged Harry’s face, gently with the bottle, but as if feeling the same awkwardness hang around the office, Harry blatantly refused the bottle and threw a teary-eyed stare at his father in betrayal before burying his face back in the blasted shirt.

“Come on, please.” He softly placed the bottle into Harry’s hands and then brought it to his mouth, but the child refused every time.

Severus knew his son was hungry, he could physically feel Harry’s hunger from the way his son slouched his body on Severus’s but had no idea why the baby wasn’t eating.

“The snitch is here,” Albus informed the group solemnly, seconds before the floo flared and a young man stepped out.

He was covered in black from head to toe, so much so that even Severus was a little taken back. Even his face was covered; his eyes were glamoured and seemed to be a different colour every time someone attempted to look closely.

Albus nodded at the young man, and he stepped forward, handing him a small piece of parchment. Harry peered at the mysterious man, or woman (Severus couldn’t tell), he obediently took the bottle this time when Severus offered. He was too enthralled by the mysterious figure.

The old man’s eyes skimmed over the words hastily written on the parchment. “Are you sure?”

The snitch needn’t nod; Sirius stood and strode over to Albus’s side, reading over the old man’s shoulder with a blank face.

“This isn’t good news, Albus,” Black murmured, scratching at his grazed jaw, he huffed and shared another glance with his partner across the room.

“Indeed it isn’t.”

Albus looked up at the snitch. “Thank you, you are allowed to leave now.” The snitch nodded his farewell and disappeared in the flames.

“What does it say?” Severus asked. He titled the bottle as the urge to draw Harry closer amplified. An earth-rattling shiver went down his spine as Sirius shook his head and Albus sighed. James Potter drew to the edge of his seat, nervously eyeing the shift of magic crackling in the air and Remus’s shoulders hunched defensively.

“There was a coup within the Death Eater rings over leadership.” The headmaster heavily announced, putting his face in his hands. “Lucius won.”
To be continued...


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