In Somnis Veritas by myramcqueen
Summary: When 11 year old Harry Potter arrives at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, there is something very familiar about the dour Potions Master sitting at the teacher's table. Where has Harry seen him before, and what does it mean?

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.
Categories: Parental Snape > Guardian Snape Main Characters: .Snape and Harry (required)
Snape Flavour: Canon Snape, Snape Comforts
Genres: Family
Media Type: None
Tags: None
Takes Place: 1st Year
Warnings: None
Challenges: None
Series: None
Chapters: 30 Completed: Yes Word count: 38016 Read: 83631 Published: 27 Nov 2021 Updated: 26 May 2022
Chapter 10 by myramcqueen

The first day of the Christmas break passed with very few happenings, which was much to Severus Snape’s liking.

Most of the students had cleared out the day before, with the stragglers being seen off that morning. It was an unusually quiet year, he noted, with only a handful of students staying at the school: three Hufflepuffs, two Ravenclaws and one Gryffindor which was, of course, the Potter brat.

He had spent the majority of that day brewing, having a number of potions to prepare and send out before the festivities began.

He chose not to eat in the Great Hall that evening, instead having the elves bring food to his quarters. Dinner was an altogether silent affair (just how he liked it), after which he settled on the large black sofa by the fire with a copy of the Daily Prophet.

Before he knew it, it was nearly 10 o’clock, and Severus Snape was very nearly considering an early night when it happened.

Knock knock knock.

He sighed.

The rhythm of the knocking was familiar, and was low enough down on his door for him to guess who was on the other side.

Knowing that there was absolutely no point in ignoring it, the potions master got up and went to open the door, ready to give the impertinent whelp a piece of his mind.

Harry gazed up at him blearily, teeth chattering as he stood there in his pyjamas and dressing gown, nothing on his feet save a pair of odd socks.

 “Potter, what are you…?” Snape began. “You are well beyond curfew, young man.”

 “I know, sir. It’s just… awfully quiet in the Gryffindor tower…” the boy began, sheepishly. “It’s a bit… you know, creepy.”

 “Ah. So naturally, you saw it fit to travel across the castle and through the dungeons alone, in the dark,” he drawled.

Harry shrugged. “I just... wanted to sit with you for a bit, if it’s okay?”

Severus Snape resisted the urge to sigh, opening the door wider to allow the child in.

 “Very well. For a short time, after which I will personally escort you back to your tower, before Filch finds you out of your bed.”

The potions master sat the boy on the sofa then, summoning one of the elves to bring a cup of hot cocoa before returning to his original seat and back to an interesting article he had been reading on research into a potential cure for maledictus curses.

For a while, they sat in a comfortable silence that seemed to occur naturally between them.

Severus was so wrapped up in the article that he barely noticed that the boy had edged across the sofa towards him until it was too late.

Realising that he had appeared at his side, the potions master lifted up the newspaper to give the child a stern look. The movement of his arms, however, was taken in an entirely different way by Harry, who took the opportunity to scoot in even closer, pressing his head against the man’s chest.

So this was what the little brat wanted.

 “What’re you reading?” he mumbled, making himself comfortable.

 “The newspaper,” Severus replied, so taken aback that it was all he could muster up.

Harry sniggered softly. “I know that, sir. I’m not stupid.”

 “Hmph. I think that is entirely a matter of opinion, Potter,” he said, turning the page.

What should he do now? Send the child back to the other end of the sofa? Tempted though he was, Severus decided it against it – perhaps if he indulged the child for a short period, he’d be rid of his presence much more quickly.

 “So, what happened with your little friend, Potter? It was my understanding that he would be staying at the school over the Christmas break,” he said, referring to the Weasley boy.

 “Another change of plan,” Harry said. “It’s not much fun being in that tower on my own.”

 “Yes. Well. You should be in bed, asleep,” he pointed out.

Harry shook his head. “I just get bad dreams. And it’s even worse when there’s nobody else about.”

 “What do you dream about?” Snape asked, curious at the new information.

Harry just shrugged, clamming up a little.

 “You can say,” the potions master told him carefully, folding up the newspaper and putting it down.

The boy seemed somewhat surprised to have his professor’s full attention on the matter, and large emerald eyes met his own.

 “But they’re just stupid dreams, aren’t they? They’re not real…”

 “That doesn’t mean they don’t frighten or upset you,” Snape pointed out.

His words seemed to give Harry the reassurance he needed, and he spoke again.

 “Sometimes I dream about being at Privet Drive, and Uncle Vernon yelling and yelling at me because I’ve done something freaky…” he began. “And then… sometimes just about other stuff. Scary stuff. Like the night with the green light, when my mum…”

Severus felt his chest ache, though whether it was for Lily, or the little boy pressed to his side, he wasn’t entirely sure. Either way, he found his hand atop the child’s head, stroking the dark hair absent-mindedly.

 “Don’t you think it’s stupid sir?” Harry asked, seemingly thrown off guard by the fact his professor hadn’t laughed at him, or told him not to be such a baby.

 “No, Potter. I don’t. It is understandable, given your past, that you should have such dreams,” he said, stiffly. “Perhaps, if you are ready for bed, a small dose of Dreamless Sleep may be beneficial, before I return you to your dorm.”

Harry shook his head.  “’M’not tired…”

The potions master arched an eyebrow, looking down at the boy, whose drooping eyelids told a different story.

 “Alright, Potter. Well when you are ready, do let me know.”

 “Mm-hm,” Harry confirmed, burrowing further into the black robes.

Severus rolled his eyes, wondering when the formidable, draconian image he presented to his students had ever given the impression that he would make a suitable pillow for eleven year old Gryffindors, of all things.

With that, he accio’d a nearby blanket cover the child, refusing to be the reason that The Boy-Who-Lived caught pneumonia.

OOOOOOO

Severus Snape was not sure for exactly how long he had been sat there on the sofa, the boy sleeping soundly beside him. It was entirely possible that he himself had dozed off, he surmised, having been brought back to reality by a whooshing noise coming from the direction of his fireplace.

Straightening up, Severus cursed inwardly when the face of Albus Dumbledore appeared within the flames. This was all he needed.

 “Severus, my boy! There you are. May I come through?” he asked.

 “What is it headmaster?” Severus sighed.

Seemingly taking this as an invitation, Dumbledore’s face disappeared momentarily before he stepped through into the position master’s living quarters.

 “I must apologise for visiting so late, Severus. However it appears that we have a student missing–” the elderly wizard began, before stopping abruptly to survey the scene before him, his eyes beginning to twinkle annoyingly.

Snape shifted uncomfortably, suddenly very conscious of the small boy curled in beside him.

Turning back to the fireplace, Dumbledore put his head back into the floo.

 “I’m pleased to confirm that the panic is over, Argus,” he said, evidently addressing the caretaker who was at the other end. “The student has, thankfully, been located and is safely tucked up to sleep. Thank you for your concern, do have a good evening!”

Snape scowled.

Turning back to face him, Dumbledore gave him a cheery smile. “So sorry, my boy. Our Mr Filch was quite concerned with a student being out of bed.”

 “And rightly so,” Snape grumbled.

 “Might I ask…?” Dumbledore began, glancing questioningly at the child.

 

“It would seem our hero is not quite so brave when he is all alone in the Gryffindor tower, headmaster,” he replied, trying to throw his best sneer in there for good measure.

 “Ah, yes. Even Hogwarts can be the loneliest of places when the ones we hold most dear are absent,” the headmaster nodded, taking a seat on the armchair across from him and glancing at the half-empty glass of wine on the table. “Merlot?”

 “Yes.”

 “An excellent choice. And a personal favourite of mine, also,” Dumbledore smiled.

Severus had to hold back an audible growl at the headmaster’s shameless hinting. 

 “Would you care for a glass, headmaster?”

Dumbledore’s smile only grew wider. “Why, Severus, how kind of you to ask! That would be wonderful.”

The house elves were summoned once again, then, and it was clear that even they were a little puzzled by the apparent increase of workload coming from the potions master’s quarters.

“It would seem, Severus, that you have made quite an impression on our young Harry,” Dumbledore said eventually, glass in hand. “May I be so bold as to enquire how this came about?”

 “The boy simply latched himself on to me, Albus. I have no idea why, nor am I clear on how I might be able to rid myself of him,” Snape said flatly.

Dumbledore chuckled, his gaze flickering momentarily to the potion master’s hand, still cupped against the back of the boy’s head.

 “I should think that you could have done so already, had you truly wished to.”

 “What is that supposed to mean?” Severus snapped.

The headmaster examined him above his half-moon spectacles for a moment before he spoke again.

 “You know, aside from his muggle relatives, Harry has no other family to speak of.”

 “I would hardly describe the muggles as any kind of ‘family’ to the boy, either,” Snape commented.

 “The blood wards protect him, but alas, Harry lacks a true source of comfort in the magical world. He is very much alone,” Dumbledore said.

 “He has an army of adoring fans,” he countered.

 “Yet it is you he seeks out, time and time again,” his boss pointed out. “No, I am quite certain that what young Mr Potter craves is the care and attention of an adult.”

 “Then, he is all yours, headmaster,” Snape said, dryly.

 “We both know I am far too old for this kind of thing, Severus. And if you truly mean to keep the vow you made in my office, all those years ago…”

 “What exactly is it you are asking of me, old man?” he demanded, starting to feel a little worried.

 “Not much, my dear boy. Perhaps only that you provide some company for the boy, over the Christmas Period and into the new term. Somebody to whom he can come, should he find it necessary,” Dumbledore suggested, draining the wine glass and standing back up. “The rest, as they say, will follow.”

 “What on earth does that mean?” Snape asked, dubiously.

But the headmaster had already stepped into the floo and disappeared.

OOOOOOO

The End.


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