1994

The Burrow

When Hermione got to the Weasley’s house several days later, she had a very bad feeling. Before she had left, she had glanced at her father’s newspaper rack, and right before she went through the floo, she thought she had seen a title about a house burning. She hoped that that had nothing to do with the fact that Ron’s parents were so distressed. Maybe it was linked with a Death Eater attack? Hopefully not. 

When she stepped out of the fireplace, however, Hermione knew something must have gone terribly wrong. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley were not there to greet her, and there was only Ron and Ginny. “Hey, ‘Mione,” Ron greeted her with a sad kind of smile. “You okay?”

Whipping the soot off herself from the floo, Hermione looked up into the warn faces of her friends. “I was going to ask you two the same thing. You both look…unwell.”

“We’re alright,” Ginny reassured the older girl. “It’s just…”

“Mum’s been in a right fit ever since I wrote you last week!” Ron went on. “They wouldn’t say anything about what was wrong until you got here.”

“What about Harry?” Hermione asked. “Where is he?”

Here, the redheads looked worried. “My letter to him was sent back unopened. It’s really weird,” Ron replied.

Paling at the news, Hermione thought back to the paper her father had saved. Why had she neglected to read about Muggle news these past few weeks? “Do you think…” she started, but stopped again. “Do you think that all this has something to do with Harry?”

The Weasley siblings looked over at each other uneasily again. “We were really hoping you wouldn’t think that too, Hermione,” Ginny admitted. “We’re not really sure what all this is about.”

Nodding to herself, Hermione began lifting her bags, and with Ron and Ginny’s help, they managed to get the guest situated. While Hermione unpacked with Ginny’s help, Ron left to go alert the twins of Hermione’s arrival. And once all this was done, the girls met back up with Ron in the kitchen where he had made them each some hot chocolate.

“Thank you,” Hermione smiled up at him. She tasted it. “This is really good.”

“Thanks,” Ron gave a half-hearted smile.

The three friends sat together in the kitchen, quietly talking about this and that. Hermione talked about her parents and the week they had taken off to spend time with her that summer. Ron and Ginny spoke of all the trouble the twins had gotten into before their parents distress, and how insufferable Percy had been. Things started to lighten up, and they were beginning to smile easy and chuckle, when Mr. and Mrs. Weasley came in with the twins and Percy in tow.

Mrs. Weasley’s eyes were red-rimmed and her hair, which was normally a tame poof, was rather wild, and she looked thinner. Mr. Weasley looked pale and worn, like he had been worked far too hard. When his other three children were seated, the Weasley patriarch cleared his throat.

“Hello, Hermione,” he greeted with a forced smile. “So good to see you again. I’m glad you could come.”

“Thank you, Mr. Weasley,” Hermione smiled warmly, hoping that would calm the man’s nerves a bit. “And thank you for having me.”

“Not at all, not at all,” he waved off her thanks easily. “But I know that you are all wondering about the meeting your mum and I had the other day.”

All the Weasley children were surprisingly silent as they waited for their father to continue. All the children had been on their best behavior since their parents came home with some dreadful news. The twins had stopped their pranking, Percy actually came out of his room to be with his family, Ron had made sure to clean up all of his mess, and Ginny had been helping her mother any way she could. It had been an odd week, a dreadful, fearful week, and they had all desperately wanted to know what it was their parents were keeping from them. But now that it was time to know, none of the children were sure they wanted to.

“We were informed the other day,” Arthur began. Beside him, Molly sobbed. “That there had been a fire…a Death Eater attack on Harry Potter’s house.”

Hermione inhaled a quick breath. Dear Merlin she knew it! Why hadn’t she read the Muggle newspapers? Why had she ever subscribed to the Daily Prophet? Why had she let that take priority over Muggle news? Harry was probably in the hospital recovering from some terrible injury right now! It was all so terrible!

“Is he okay? He wasn’t hurt too bad, was he?” Ron stood up, panic ringing in his voice.

Arthur seemed to pale several more shades until he was bone white. Molly’s sobbing increased until she almost wailed. “No, Ron, no he’s not,” Mr. Weasley could not look at his children. “Everyone…Harry Potter is…is dead.”

The room was silent. Six pairs of eyes widened in horror as the news hit each of them like a blow to the chest. It could not be; Harry Potter could not be dead! He simply could not be! Hermione and Ginny burst into tears while the Weasley boys had a hard time fighting their own tears off.

It was a miserable day in the Burrow that day, and for many more days to come.

*****

Llanfair 

Meanwhile, a week after their initial fight, Harry and Severus got along remarkably well… for them. Harry past rather pleasant days in Llanfair. It seemed odd that he should be finding it pleasant living with Snape, but the Potions Master was nothing like the Dursleys, and for that, Harry was thankful.

But Harry’s life was not all leisure and lying about. While Severus let Harry have a remarkable amount of free time, he also had his son doing chores and studying. Harry helped weed the garden outside, helped with the dishes, set the table, helped clear the table, kept his room clean, and even helped with laundry. Although they were chores he had done at the Dursleys, Harry did not mind doing them here as Snape surprised him by doing his share of the work as well.

Along with his chores, Harry was made to study at least an hour a day out of his school text. At first the young Gryffindor thought that it would be easy, that he could just sit there for an hour with his books open, but soon learned that that was not the case. After staring into space for about an hour, thinking of Quidditch, he had tried to pack up his things and go about his business when Snape stopped him. It appeared the Potions Master had been watching his offspring closer than Harry thought, and demanded that his son sit for another hour and actually study his work.

Harry had griped and complained, muttering about the unfairness of it all, but as usual, Snape did not seem too concerned with the boy’s complaining. “No short cuts in this house, Potter,” Severus had smiled evilly.

It was then that Harry began to learn the disadvantages of having a professor as a father. But despite his whining, deep down, Harry knew he would not trade his father for the world. He had finally gotten a father; after all these years he finally had someone, someone that cared about him, someone that cared about how well he did physically and academically. It was then that Harry knew what Ron felt like when his parents weren’t pleased with his homework. But unlike Ron, Harry had to grin.

It was the start of a new week, and Harry was washing dishes while his father was drying and putting them away, when he thought of his friends again. “Hey, uh, sir?” he looked over at the grown wizard.

“Yes, Harry?” Snape was not even looking at the boy as he began placing the plates in the cabinet.

“I was wondering if I could write to Ron and Hermione…You know, just to catch up,” Harry shrugged.

Stopping what he was doing, Severus turned and looked at his son. Ever since their first explosive argument, the Potions Master had been extremely careful to take Harry’s feelings into account in every situation since. It was hard for Severus not to come off as offensive. He had trained himself to be standoffish, not wanting to let anyone close to him. It had been part of his job, but now that he had a son, the boy he had trained himself to hate the most, Severus was having a hard time letting go of his past schooling. He was really trying to be more open, but sometimes Harry just made him want to scream. How was this boy his again?

“Harry,” Severus said slowly. “I know that you miss your friends and that you want to hear from them, but have you forgotten that you and I are wanted? That we are running from not only Death Eaters, but from Dumbledore and his Order members too?”

Looking at his father with those large green eyes, Harry seemed like a much younger child. Severus immediately realized that the boy was trying to apply the puppy-dog eyes on him. “But, sir,” the boy pleaded, “I haven’t heard from them since my birthday. And I didn’t even get to reply to their letters!”

Trying to remain level headed, Severus was desperate to ignore the beseeching look in the green eyes he loved so much.  “Harry, what makes you think you can write them letter? I essentially kidnapped you and Dumbledore, not to mention Death Eaters, are looking for you. What makes you think that they cannot trace you back here after your letters are delivered?” The green eyes dropped. “It’s too risky, Harry.”

“But aren’t there spells to cancel tracking spells? Make it so that they can’t find me?” Harry asked, his eyes shining once more with hope.

Of all the qualities Harry possessed, it was his eyes that Severus both blessed and cursed. They were Lily’s eyes, of that, there was no doubt, but oh how he wished he did not see his sweet Lily’s face shining out of those eyes. She could always get him to do anything for her, and it seemed Harry was having similar luck.

“No,” Severus shook his head, standing his ground. Harry looked offended. “I am sorry, Harry, but it simply is too risky. You don’t want them to find you, do you? You don’t want them to take you away from me…do you?”

It was then that Harry realized how selfish he was being. Although he was frustrated with the fact that his father would not let him write to his friends, he did see the logic and reason behind the older wizard’s decision. What would happen to the two of them if they were caught? The Death Eaters would capture them and torture them until they died, and if Dumbledore found them, he’d probably erase their memories again and separate them.

Bowing his head in defeat, Harry sighed. “No…I don’t want them to take me away. I…I want to stay here.”

Severus let out a silent breath. For just a moment, he had been afraid that Harry no longer wanted to stay with him. The Potions Master knew that he was rather strict at times, but he did not think he was unreasonable. He was only giving Harry rules similar to those that he gave his Slytherins. Really, Severus was relieved that his son was finding his stay here pleasant. He had no real experience with children, having never been particularly close to any, with the exception of Draco. Being a spy, even after the Dark Lord’s fall, left Severus hurting socially…like always.

Nodding, the professor resumed his work of drying dishes. He did not know what else to say. The matter was closed as far as he was concerned. Harry saw his error and accepted Severus’s judgment. That was good, wasn’t it? That was trust, wasn’t it? Merlin Severus wished he was more socially in tune with others.

Father and son spent a few moments in silence as they continued their work, when Harry could not stand it. “Do you think that we could go for a walk around town today?” he asked.

Severus was drying a bowl, staring at it to make sure he did not miss any part, before he nodded. “I don’t see why not.” He stretched his long arm out to place the bowl on the high shelf.

“I mean, you know, just the two of us today?” Harry asked, staring hard at the plate he was scrubbing. He felt his father’s eyes on him, but he did not look up. He suddenly felt embarrassed for even asking such a stupid thing. What did Snape think of him, always blushing and stuttering? The Potions Master probably rued having such a stupid son.

If Harry had looked over at his father, he would have seen the slight smile that suddenly formed on the older wizard’s face. Severus felt his heart lift and his body relax. Harry, his son, wanted to spend time alone with his father outside of their home? Without Mrs. Cadogan following them about? His son wanted time together. His son wanted him.

“Of course we can,” Severus nodded, going back to work, he was unable to wipe the shy smile off his face.

Together, the two wizards finished the dishes before they went out for the afternoon. Harry enjoyed showing off his new clothes to the little town, even though there were not that many people. He wore some of his new blue jeans, some that actually fit his frame, and a nice, collared green shirt that matched his eyes perfectly- that’s what Mrs. Cadogan had said, and Severus had agreed. Harry found his hair much more manageable now, and brushed it through. It was straight and silky, brushed back. But it was getting long, and there were some strands that fell in his eyes.

As they walked in the open, sunny air, Harry felt proud to be at his father’s side. While Harry looked like the typical teenage boy, he thought his father looked far superior to everyone that they passed. Snape always walked with a straight back and square shoulders, and with his tall, lean frame, the professor simply looked lordly. Severus wore long, black trousers that hid his tall black, leather boots, and wore a dark, forest green shirt. And for once, wore his hair tied back.

The two Snapes walked about the little village calmly with no real objective in mind. The town was quiet that day, no tour coaches coming through, and the locals had all pretty much gotten used to seeing the two “English” around. It still amazed Harry that there was still a rivalry between the English and Welsh even after all these years. But then again, his father and James and Sirius had never really gotten over their grudges either.

The two wizards stopped at the ice cream shop and Severus bought Harry his favorite chocolate ice cream. As Harry was eating it, he looked around the little tourist trap and marveled at all the carved wooden spoons. As Severus was paying, an old man came up to Harry. “Eye’n them spoons, are ya lad?” he asked kindly.

Trying to be polite, Harry nodded, while trying not to let his ice cream drip on his hands. “Yeah. What are they for? Just decoration?”

“For most, nowadays,” the old man nodded. “They’re Welsh Love Spoons,” he explained. “Use to, when folks was poorer, and da’s was more protective of their daughters, shepherd boys would fall in love with a girl, but had no money for a ring, nor did he want the lass’s da’ to find out ‘bout their romance, so he’d carve her a spoon, promising his love to her.”

Looking back over at all the spoons that hung on the wall, next to the postcards, Harry smiled. “Were all these handmade too? Like back in the old days?”

“Sure are, lad,” the old man grinned. “I made a few of them meself,” he said proudly. “Look there’s one I carved, and there’s one too.”

By that time, Severus was by his son. He had heard the old man’s tale and the whole conversation. He was slightly amused that the old Welshman was so eager to tell tales of old, while at the same time was just as amused with Harry’s wide eyed curiosity. He looked so much like Lily when he was excited or curious.

“Are you ready to go?” Severus asked his son softly.

“Yeah, I guess,” Harry shrugged, still staring at the spoons. “Goodbye sir,” he smiled at the old man.

That night, Severus caught sight of the date, and cursed himself viciously. He had had such a good day with Harry, and he had been so focused on not ruining anything, that he had forgotten that tonight was the night Albus had wanted to call a meeting for the Order members. Knowing he was expected to attend, the Potions Master knew he had to go, lest he bring suspicion upon himself. Although he did not want to, he picked up the telephone, a machine he had not used in years, and dialed Mrs. Cadogan.

Later, he changed into his normal, wizarding clothes, before casting a glamours charm over them to make them appear to be his same, Muggle clothes. “Harry?” he called.

Sitting on the couch, reading a book, Harry popped his head up to look at his father. He frowned. “Are you going somewhere?” he asked.

“Yes,” the older wizard nodded. “I am to attend an Order meeting tonight. I admit I had forgotten about it until now.”

“Oh,” Harry said, still frowning. “When will you be back?”

Severus’s mouth set into a frown similar to his son’s. “I do not know the exact time, but I should think in two or three hours.”

“Okay,” Harry shrugged, turning back to his book.

Raising an eyebrow at the offhanded behavior, Severus held his tongue for the moment in pursue of grabbing floo powder from off the mantel. “Mrs. Cadogan will be here in a minute or two, so don’t give her any trouble.”

“You called me a babysitter?” Harry looked disgusted. “I’m not two, you know. I can stay by myself for a few hours.”

His old scowl back in place, Severus glared at his son hard. “Not when you’re hiding from the entire Wizarding world, you’re not. I’m not risking another Death Eater raid here. Mrs. Cadogan will be here shortly to watch you.”

“But I don’t need a babysitter,” Harry argued. At that moment, Mrs. Cadogan walked in.

Not noticing, Severus continued to scowl at his son. He stalked forward and leaned forward threateningly. “You will be watched by Mrs. Cadogan and you will not give her any trouble, do you understand me? I want no more of your whining. This is for your own good.”

When Severus straightened up, he was noticed the tiny elderly Muggle woman standing in the doorway. Merlin, why did she always come in at the worse possible times? “Mrs. Cadogan,” he began, feeling extremely awkward.

“Mr. Brandon,” she smiled cheerily at him. “Having a bit of trouble, are we?”

“I was just telling Peter that-”

“Oh, no worries,” the old woman waved of Severus’s embarrassment. “I’ve had children of my own. I know how they act. Now, you better get going before you’re late.” And before he knew it, Severus was pushed out of the house. “You won’t be out too late, I hope?” the old woman looked Severus up and down. “A strappin’ young man like yourself, I hope do stay out too late with any young ladies.”

Severus actually blushed at the old woman’s words. In the background, he thought he heard Harry snickering. “Certainly not,” he did his best to look affronted. “I should be back in two to three hours. Peter knows how to get a hold of me if needed.”

Smiling, the Muggle nodded. “Very good then. I will see you soon, Mr. Brandon.”

Nodding, Severus began to walk away. He walked into the woods before he apparated away.

Once Severus was gone, Mrs. Cadogan turned to Harry with a smile. Harry raised an eyebrow at the old woman’s glee, but he watched her as she came in and sat down across from him. “Now that he’s gone,” the old woman grinned. “How about we play some poker?”

Harry smiled. Maybe being watched by Mrs. Cadogan was not such a bad thing after all?

*****

While Harry was playing cards with Mrs. Cadogan, Severus apparated to Scotland, where then he apparated to an old house that the Order members used to floo and flooed to number twelve Grimmauld Place. Stepping out of the dirty fireplace, Severus was exhausted. Apparation took quite a bit of magic when traveling long distances- and he had gone from Wales to Scotland just to get back to London! But he could not afford to get caught, so the draining affects were worth it he supposed.

Severus dusted himself off and removed the glamours from his clothes so that he was once again wearing his normal black robes and black cloak. He missed wearing his normal, comfortable outfits. He wore his “Potions Master’s” outfits so often for class he almost did not own anything else. But coming out of his thoughts, he saw the light coming from the kitchen, and walked towards it with purpose, keeping his face composed.

When he entered into the rather spacious kitchen, he could see that it was rather full. There, around that table, sat Albus, Minerva, and Filius, and next to them were Black, Lupin, Arthur, and Molly, and the Aurors, Tonks and Shaklebolt. When the group saw him, immediately Black sent him the most vicious glare that Severus could ever remember receiving from the mongrel. But he ignored it with a condescending air, and sat down to the right of the Headmaster.

“Severus,” Dumbledore nodded. “I was beginning to think you had forgotten.”

“I am not late,” the Potions Master said tightly. He was several minutes early, in fact. If no one else had anything better to do then to come early then that was their problem.

“No, I suppose you aren’t,” Albus tried to smile, but failed miserably. “How have you been? You went to Scotland to hide, did you not?”

“I did,” Snape nodded calmly, but he noticed the tension in the room and the stricken faces of some of the members. Something had happened, and he could sense the hostility around him. “I have been moving around,” he continued to ignore Black and several of the other member’s suspicious gazes.

The Headmaster nodded. “Good, good. Have you had much news of the south?” he asked.

“Not much, sir,” Severus lied. He knew Albus was referring the Dursleys house burning. But what the Potions Master did not know was that the old wizard had gone to the house with Harry and had promised to check up on the boy. Severus did not know that Dumbledore knew Harry was not with the Dursley family.

Here, the Slytherin heard Molly Weasley let out a quiet sob. What were they all on about that made them so…emotional? They all looked to be in some state of misery while Black looked like he was about to murder someone. “Something important has happened?” he felt obligated to ask.

“Where’s Harry?!” Black slammed his fist onto the table as he stood up, glaring dagger down at Severus.

Taken back by the question that bordered on accusation, Severus blinked several times, wondering how on earth they had figured it out. He had been so careful! He had made sure no traces of Harry were left behind! He had known the Dursleys were gone. He had thought that they would all assume that Harry had gone with his family. Where had he gone wrong?

“Sirius,” Dumbledore admonished. “Sit down,” the Headmaster commanded, none too gently. “You must forgive him, Severus. He is grieving.”

Slowly, Severus nodded, but then glared fiercely back at Black. “Is there something I should know?”

“Yes, indeed my boy, there is,” Albus sighed sadly, looking down at his hands. “I appears you were right, and I was wrong.”

Again, taken back by the unexpected compliment, if a compliment it really was, Severus waited for the Headmaster to continue while trying to keep his own emotions undercover. While the old man was apparently gathering his thoughts, Severus took the time to look around to study the others closer. They all looked terrible, and it was then that Severus began to understand what this was all about.

“Severus, you were right. I should not have taken Harry back to his relatives,” Albus admitted. “That night he was back, Death Eaters came and burned down the house. Harry Potter is dead.”

The surprise on Snape’s face was genuine. He did not know what to make of all of this. They all thought that Harry was dead? His first instinct was to laugh and the second was to tell them that Harry was most certainly not dead, but he bit down both. They would not help him in the least. The third thing that ran through his mind was that this was absolutely perfect for him and Harry. If they all thought the boy was dead, they would leave them alone for the rest of the summer. And then all Severus would have to do was make up a story for Harry to tell when it came time for school and he dropped the boy off at the station.

He must have been so focused on his plan, because the Headmaster touched his shoulder, startling him from his thoughts. “Severus?” Albus asked. “Are you alright?”

Knowing his part, the Potions Master scowled blackly at the old man, just as he had wanted to from the beginning. He conjured up all of his blocked anger towards the Headmaster and used it to his advantage. He looked positively terrifying to the group before him, and he knew it by their faces. “Fool!” he spat, standing from the table, his robes fluttering around him gracefully. “I told you not to send him back there! I told you it would be unsafe! But you never listen to me!”

The others were quite surprised that the Potions Master was speaking to Albus Dumbledore in such a manner, but they were even more shocked that the Headmaster allowed it. “Severus…” the old man looked at the younger wizard pleadingly.

There was only a small part of Severus that wanted to feel something for the old man, but it was not strong enough to make him show anything but contempt. “Now what will we do?” he hissed before peering around the table, distributing some of the fault. “You all had us place our trust in that boy and now he’s dead! What will we do now? The Dark Lord’s minions are rising. They believe they are getting close to a solution! What if they find a way to raise him?”

“Severus, please sit down,” Dumbledore asked tiredly.

“You seem to know an awful lot, Snape,” Sirius growled. “Why’s that?”

“Because I’ve been a spy for over fifteen years, you dolt!” Snape snapped.

“Boys!” the Headmaster tried to calm them. 

“No!” Sirius growled. “Can’t any of you see he’s a traitor? He knows something. What do you know, you coward?”

Severus was not sure what infuriated him more, Black leaning into his face or actually guessing that the Potions Master was hiding something. “Black!” he roared in anger, one of the few times he had lost his temper bad enough to shout. “How dare you call me a traitor! How dare you call me a coward! I’ve been risking my life again and again, bending over backwards to protect Potter’s miserable life, and you have the audacity to call me a coward? What have you been doing the past twelve years besides hiding in the shadows and rotting in Azkaban?”

Before anyone could have stopped him, Sirius was across the table and flying at Severus. The others stood, but they were not quick enough to stop what was happening. But that did not matter. Snape had braced himself for some sort of retaliation and was able to flip Black over onto his back on the floor. But Sirius was nothing if not determined, and grabbed Severus’s ankles and yanked him onto the floor.

The Potions Master went down, but he managed to fall so that he landed onto Sirius, his elbow jabbing into the Gryffindor’s ribs. Sirius gasped in pain, but by then Severus was able to get out of his hold and stood up again. The others were all gathered around them, their eyes filled with amazement.

Severus had the nastiest temptation to kick Black while he was lying there panting, but he figured that that would not help anyone but himself. The urge was strong though…but he opted to straighten his cloak and fix his hair before sneering down at his rival. “Idiotic mutt!” he hissed. “And what did that accomplish? Nothing! You’re a fool, Black, and brainless fool!”

Turning on his heels, Severus strode to the fireplace and threw in some powder. “Severus, please!” he heard the Headmaster call, but he paid him no head as he flooed back to Scotland.

*****

When Severus arrived only an hour after he had left, both Harry and Mrs. Cadogan looked up surprised. “Christopher, my boy, what are you doing back so early?” she asked, a little disappointed.

Severus threw her a weathered glare as he stalked passed them. “I’m going to change,” he announced as he left the room. He was exhausted.

Harry and the old woman exchanged glances. “Doesn’t look as though things went well,” she whispered to the boy.

“Nope,” Harry looked down the hall his father had gone.

“Well then, I think it’s time for me to get going.” She stood up and packed up her cards.

“Coward,” Harry accused her playfully.

The old woman smiled at him. “No’a coward boy, I just watch the weather,” she winked at him. “Nos da, Peter,” she patted him on the shoulder.

“Night, Mrs. Cadogan,” Harry helped her to the door.

A few minutes later, Severus reappeared wearing his favorite black slacks and a simply black t-shirt. Curious, despite his father’s terrible mood, Harry frowned at his father. “What’s that on your arm?” he asked.

Scowling down at his forearm where there was a rather nasty looking bruise forming, Snape snorted. “That would be from the meeting,” he growled. Harry watched his father pensively as he got a drink of water.

“What’s the news? Has anything interesting happened?” the boy asked.

 When the Potions Master turned around, he had a rather frightening looking smile on his lips, one that Harry had learned as a student did not bode well. The black eyes of the Slytherin met his sons, and silkily, Severus replied, “Yes, as a matter of fact there is.” Harry waited for his father to continue. “Apparently,” Snape drawled, “you’re dead.”

Harry blanched.