The Unexpected Snape by missyanne, Luck

The next day, Harry's stomach squirmed unpleasantly as he pulled on his school robes. He glanced over at Ron who was sitting on the edge of his own bed. Harry's best friend was so nervous he had tied the laces of his trainers together. "Oh bugger," Ron mumbled as he clumsily tried to undo the laces. Apparently, he was just as anxious about Professor Snape's impending punishment as Harry was. Thankfully their dorm mates had already made their way down to breakfast and Harry and Ron were free to wallow in their misery alone.

Harry grabbed his rucksack and flung it over his shoulder. "Come on. We might as well get this over with."

"Says you," Ron said as he reached under the bed for his own bag. "I don't relish the idea of detention with Snape. Do you think he'll forget?"

"What do you think?" Harry replied flatly as he headed out the door. Ron followed him down the stairs to the common room. The room was eerily empty as everyone was required to be at breakfast. Ron had a hard time getting up so they were the last out the door.

Well...almost.

"We're going to be late. We're already in enough trouble as it is."

An irritated Hermione was awaiting them by the portrait hole.

"If you're so worried, why'd you wait?" Ron cut back.

Hermione rolled her eyes but ignored Ron's question. She followed the boys out into the corridor and the portrait of the Fat Lady shut behind them.

"Ronald, your brothers know about us getting into trouble last night," Hermione said casually.

Ron rounded on her hotly and pointed a finger close to her face."You didn't do something daft like tell them, did you?"

Hermione took a step back from Ron, her eyes crossed as they focused on his accusing finger. "Of course I didn't."

"Then how could they already know?" Harry asked as he continued his way to the Great Hall. "There was no one around."

Hermione must have made her way around Ron because she was right behind him when she answered. "I think they said something about the portraits."

Ron had finally caught up with them and was in now in-step with Harry and Hermione. "The portraits around here gossip," he replied, sounding a bit more contrite. "I guess they have nothing else better to do."

Hermione sighed, but said nothing as she continued to walk with Harry and Ron.

They came across a few students in the corridor who apparently were running late for reasons of their own. They ignored Harry and his friends as they hurried along. Harry was desperately hoping Professor Snape wouldn't notice them entering into the Great Hall late, but that was about as likely as him forgetting their detention.

They passed a dark corridor flanked by two suits of armour. They had taken no notice of the corridor until the heard two people humming behind them. They were humming a funeral dirge and managing to keep it in good harmony at that. Harry and his friends turned around only to discover that Ron's older twin brothers, Fred and George had snuck up behind them. Ron's brothers were sporting black armbands around their forearms.

"What are those for," Ron asked, pointing at the armbands.

"We're in mourning," one of the twins said. Harry still couldn't tell the difference between them. The doppelganger replied, "Harry's no longer in Snape's good graces."

"It's a sad day for Gryffindor," they said in unison.

Harry had no time to listen to Ron's brothers taking the Mickey out of them. So he grabbed his companions by arms and pulled them away from the Weasley twins. "Come on guys. We don't have time for this."

"Good thinking," he heard one of the twins say. "You don't want to be late for your own funeral!" the other called out.

Harry looked back briefly only to see that the twins were gone. He figured they must have gone back down the dark corridor.

"They're going to be in big trouble if Professor McGonagall notices them missing from breakfast," Hermione said.

"That's their lot," said Ron. "We have our own trouble to worry about."

"Ron's right," Harry said. "We better get there before the owl posts arrive or we will be late for our own funeral." That said, Harry broke into a run for the Great Hall with his friends hard on his heels.

Severus picked at his bubble and squeak and his poached egg had gotten cold enough to congeal. His students would have a hard time of it today because Severus was particularly grouchy when he was hungry and he was in no mood for dunderheads. He had no interest in the conversations between the other professors that buzzed around him, so Severus shut out his colleagues altogether.

Speaking of dunderheads, his son had finally sprinted into the Great Hall along with his two cohorts. Severus had been beyond angry when he overheard Draco Malfoy expel his plan to have Filch catch Harry and his friend wandering the corridors after dark. That plan backfired on the brat. When Severus caught the boy waiting for his cronies outside the entrance to the Slytherin common room earlier that morning, he accused Draco of advertising the location of the common room to the entire school and rewarded the boy with nothing less than detention with Mr Filch. Argus would have the boy scrubbing the showers and toilets in the Quidditch training rooms with a toothbrush. A distasteful enough prospect and totally inappropriate for the crime considering Severus would have merely chastised the boy had he not tried to set up Harry. No doubt he would receive an owl with a letter of protest from Lucius latter in the day. Severus would just ignore it and leave it indefinitely in his "incoming" box.

Harry and his friends, on the other hand, where in for a particularly unpleasant evening. Severus did not relish the idea of punishing his son so harshly, but the boy needed to learn straight away that indiscretion, especially one as grievous as wandering the corridors after dark to engage in what equates to a schoolyard fight, would result in severe consequences. Severus supposed he could revoke his permission to allow Harry to play Quidditch, but that would open up a whole other can of flubber worms. Rumours had already started with the staff and it would only be a matter of time before the student body caught wind of it. Like it or not, Severus would have to think of a way to have a discussion with Harry. He still had no idea what he would say.

Severus watched as Harry, Mr Weasley, and Ms Granger budged their way between Mr Longbottom and Mr Finnegan at the Gryffindor table. The children had obviously ran at least part of the way to the hall if their flushed faces and laboured breathing were any indication. He decided to let it pass. They weren't technically late and they obviously had some sense of urgency to get to breakfast on time.

Harry had just made it on time because no sooner had he sat down, the owls had arrived. Severus had utilized school owls to deliver Mr Weasley's and Ms Granger's detention notices, but for some inexplicable reason he couldn't help but use his own long-eared owl, Aotus, to deliver Harry's notice. Severus thought it odd when the boy offered Aotus a slice of bacon. Harry almost looked stricken when the owl turned his back to the offering and flew away. Then he remembered seeing that the boy's own snowy owl had an unnatural affinity for the treat. Obviously the boy thought all owls craved salted and cured meat.

Even from across the Great Hall, Severus could see the looks of wonder and concern on the children's faces as they brought their heads together to discuss the instructions in their letters. He had given them explicit instructions to have their homework done and to meet him by the main castle door at 6:45. Severus had also warned them to wear clothes they weren't afraid of ruining. Hopefully that wouldn't mean that Mr Weasley would show up in his school uniform like his twin brothers had done on more than one occasion when given the same instructions.

Severus had decided to give up on his breakfast. There wasn't much of anything that was worse than cold bubble and squeak. Now that he was certain that Harry had received his detention notice, there was no reason for him to linger any longer so he pushed his plate aside and arose from the table. On his way out, Severus made sure to hold his breath as he passed Quirrell and his malodorous turban.

Harry felt as if the bottom had dropped out of his stomach as he waited for Professor Snape along with Ron and Hermione. Between lunch, their break in schedule and the free hour after super, they had all managed to get their homework done—Ron included. Hermione had their scrolls tucked neatly into her rucksack just in case Professor Snape asked to see their work.

Even though he wore a school cloak over his clothes, Harry still felt overly conspicuous in Dudley's cast offs. Poor Ron clothes weren't much better than Harry's, but at least his friend's shabbiest clothes fit him. Harry didn't think Hermione looked too bad in a pair of jeans and an old Supertramp tee shirt that she said once belonged to her mum. Hermione said she brought to school in case she had any messy art projects. Harry supposed having to serve a messy detention had once been the furthest thing from Hermione's mind.

It was 6:41 and Professor Snape hadn't arrived yet. Students were still wandering in and about the castle and more than a few gave Harry and his friends nasty looks. Harry wished they would stop looking at him. Their critical glares reminded him too much of Aunt Petunia.

"Why isn't he here yet?" Ron asked impatiently. "Do you think he forgot?"

"He's not going to forget, Ronald?" Hermione replied.

Harry looked at a clock on a nearby wall. "He's not late yet," Harry said. "Remember, sometimes he doesn't come into the classroom until the last minute. I think he wants to make us nervous."

"I think this is our punishment," Ron said bitterly. "We have to stand in front of the entire school in our rattiest clothes so they can all make fun of us."

Harry hoped Ron wasn't right. If this was Professor Snape's punishment, it was too cruel. Harry was hoping to escape bullies like Dudley when he came to Hogwarts. Having his favourite teacher turn out to be one would be more than Harry could stand.

Harry breathed a sigh of relief when he saw a tall, black shadow approach them.

"See, I told you he would come," Hermione said as she pointed out Professor Snape making his way down the main stairs. Harry wondered where the professor had come from. Snape's office was in the dungeon.

When Professor Snape met them, he inspected their attire. He seemed satisfied with what Ron and Hermione had to wear but when his eyes finally caught sight of what Harry was wearing, Harry could swear he saw a flash of what he could only describe as loathing in the professor's dark eyes, but the look was gone before Harry could even decide if he imagined it.

"This will do," the professor said, but Harry didn't know if it was to them or to himself. Before Harry and his friends could ask the professor the nature of their punishment, Professor Snape rapped them each soundly on the top of the head with his wand.

"Ouch! What was that for?" Ron cried as he rubbed his head. Harry and Hermione were rubbing their heads too, but as Harry searched for the knot that would never appear, he felt a pleasant, warm sensation make his way from the top of his head to the tip of his toes.

"That was a warming charm, Mr Weasley," Professor Snape said. "It will be a windy walk down to the village and cold work in the barn.

"We're going to the village," Harry asked excitingly.

Harry could see the flush of excitement on Ron and Hermione's faces too, but they all quickly sobered when Snape said grimly, "I assure you, this visit to Hogsmeade Village will not include a side trip to Zonko's or Honeyduke's."

Even with Professor Snape escorting them, Harry thought the walk down to the village was a little scary. Harry and his friends stay huddled together as they walked even though they weren't cold. The sun had already set even though it was still early and Harry was really grateful for the professor's warming spell because the wind was whipping up strong.

A couple of times Harry thought he heard a wolf howl on the wind but he knew that couldn't be right. There were no wild wolves in Great Britain anymore. Everyone knew that. But it couldn't have been his imagination. Even Ron and Hermione jumped at the sound. Harry looked up at the starry sky. He could see the moon peek out from around the silver-lined clouds.

Harry couldn't help it. He had to ask. He almost had yell to be heard over the wind even though the professor was only two steps in front of them, "Professor? Are werewolves real?"

Ron answered first. "Of course werewolves are real."

The professor looked over his shoulder at them. Professor Snape's dark eyes seemed lost in the blackness of the night but Harry thought he might have noticed the slightest hint of a smirk. "Mr Weasley is correct. Werewolves are real, but despite Hogwarts legends and tendency for senior students to scare their younger siblings, there are no werewolves living in the Dark Forest.

"But it could still be a werewolf, right? One could be living in the village." Hermione said. Harry could hear the slight quiver in her voice. He knew it wasn't because she was cold.

"There are no known werewolves living in Hogsmeade, Ms Granger."

"But what about unknown ones?" Hermione asked. Harry thought she had a point.

"You have a valid point Ms Granger. Not every werewolf is registered, but every now and then you need to get your nose out of a book and look out the window.

Without looking back at them, Professor Snape pointed up at the sky as Ron tried to supress a giggle with no success and Hermione balked. The silver clouds floated away and they revealed a half-moon.

"One of the Muggle families on the outskirts of Dufftown owns a Siberian Husky. They have an unfortunate tendency to howl and doubtless its cries were carried by the wind," Professor Snape said. "Regardless, there are no werewolves tonight."

Harry breathed a sigh of relief and he heard Ron and Hermione do the same.

"How do you know that a Muggle family owns a Husky?" Hermione asked. "Do you know them?"

Harry could only see the back of Professor Snape's head but his annoyance at the question was made clear when he said, "We're not here to chit-chat. Come along." Then the professor picked up the pace. Harry and his friends nearly had to run all the way down the rest of the way to the village to keep up the pace.

Sometimes Severus questioned Albus Dumbledore's sanity. Well…actually he often questioned Albus Dumbledore's sanity. Why the old coot thought it a good idea to employ a former Death Eater with no tolerance for children was well beyond Severus' logic.

Even as a child himself, Severus couldn't stand to listen to his peers endlessly bombard their parents with questions. He was a quiet child, mostly out of necessity. The quieter he was, the less his father noticed him. If he needed an answer to a question he read or observed. Severus had always been totally self-reliant in that respect. He rarely asked questions of anyone and he had little patience for questions asked of him. Thanks to Albus, Severus was now burdened with a career that saddled him with questioning children. Severus supposed he could have gotten used to it by now if he had allowed himself to. But Severus chose not to be patient. His ire never failed to instil fear into the little buggers and fear of Snape's wrath begat order.

Besides—it was none of nosey little Ms Grangers business that Severus and Lily had stolen a side trip to Dufftown during more than one Hogsmeade weekend. And it certainly was nobody's business that Severus visited the village every Halloween night for the last eleven years to raise a glass of Glenffidich to her name.

Ironic, how Severus had always regretted not having a child of his own, yet he couldn't stand children. Well, he supposed he couldn't stand other people's children. Severus had always imagined if he had one of his own, it would be a quiet, studious child such as himself. But after eleven years Severus had learned one undeniable truth. Most children were full of questions and if things went according to plan, he would be raising a child of his own soon for Severus certainly wasn't going to let Harry stay with Petunia and her whale of a husband. Not even Severus was that callus. He was going to have to learn patience and finally get used to questions—especially uncomfortable ones. Never had Severus backed down from a challenge and he wouldn't back away from Harry, but Severus sorely wondered if he was up to the challenge of raising a child. He would find out soon enough.

Wisely, the children had remained quiet for the duration of their trek to the village. They passed the Three Broomsticks as Severus led them down High Street. Every so often he would turn his head to see the children lagging behind as they gawked at storefronts like Zonko's and Honeyduke's. It only took one steely glare from Severus for Harry and his friends to hurry their pace.

As they approached Gladrag's and Scrivenshaft's Severus turned off High Street to a darkened alley with a few scattered buildings that became more dilapidated the further they went. Severus no longer had to worry about lagging children for the trio made certain to stay close behind Severus' coat tails.

When they came to the last building at the end of the street, they were hit by the sickly-sweet smell before they could see the dim light in the window. Next to the Shrieking Shack, it was quite possibly the most run-down building in Hogsmeade. For that matter, Severus thought the Shrieking Shack might have a few less layers of grime. One thing was certain, the Shrieking Shack smelled cleaner.

There was a definite hint of fear and uncertainty in Ms Granger's voice when she asked, "Why are we here? Is this a pub?"

"Don't worry, Ms Granger. We're not here for fire whisky," Severus said. "Our destination is in back."

"This keeps getting better," a cheeky voice muttered.

"Silence, Mr Weasley," Severus drawled as he led them behind the pub.

Behind the pub was a small barn. Ms Granger quickly clasped her hand over her face as Harry and Mr Weasley pinched their noses and they simultaneously exclaimed, "Ugh". Severus was successful in hiding his amusement, but he could hardly blame them. The air was rather skanky.

As the barn door slowly opened with a rusty squeak, a dim shaft of light shone through. The children huddled closer together, nearly pressing into his side for protection. Severus never noticed his hand reaching down to Harry's shoulder, but he did notice Harry's posture change as the boy became more relaxed. The boy never looked up. Severus quickly removed his hand as if he touched a hot hob. Not knowing what else to do, he shoved his hands down his pockets of his robes.

"It's about time," a gruff voice said. The tall, thin man stared out at them with his bright blue eyes behind dirty spectacles. His grey hair was long and stringy and he slightly resembled a goat. But if one looked long enough, they would find something eerily familiar about the barmy codger. "I thought you'd never get here," he said as he bid Severus and the children into the barn. "I've got a pub to run, you know."

"Yes," Severus said as he led his charges in. "I see your patrons are filling the rafters."

The pub owner looked annoyed, but kept quiet.

Harry and his friend quietly stood in line while they awaited introductions. "Messers Potter and Weasley, Ms Granger, this is Mr Du…"

"Ahem."

Severus rolled his eyes at the old barkeep. It wasn't as if half of the wizarding world didn't know he was the headmaster's younger brother. "This is Mr…Aberforth. In addition to running this…fine establishment, he is a goat herd, and has graciously given us permission to harvest bezoars."

The boy's eye grew with excited anticipation as they looked over at the goats and back up at Severus as if they couldn't believe their luck, but Ms Granger looked a little leary.

"Why don't you weans make your introductions to the goats whilst I have a word with your professor. There's some alfalfa over there. You can feed them if you like."

Severus watched as his son and his friends excitedly grabbed fistfuls of hay and handfed the goats, seemingly oblivious to their impending punishment.

"You do realize that this is a detention and not a trip to the petting zoo," Severus said, almost wishing he didn't have to spoil Harry's fun. But lessons had to be learned.

"The dirty work will start soon enough," the old innkeeper commented. Aberforth never turned his head from the children, but his eyes cut to Severus with ill-hidden concern.

"You didn't…erm… go into any details about me to children did you?"

"Which details do you mean?" Severus asked. "That you were convicted of using unnatural charms on your goats or that you're the headmaster's brother?"

"I was railroaded on that charge," the old man said defensively. "It was a simple husbandry charm. I do breed goats as part of my living, you know. I can't help it if one my billies got out and mistook Mrs Acheson for a doe. Woman should shave every now and then," he said gruffly. Once the younger Dumbledore had calmed down he asked, "What did you tell them?"

Severus managed not to laugh, but his amusement did reach his eyes. "Don't flip your kilt, Dumbledore," Severus mocked. "They only know you raise goats. Your true name and your dubious past are none of their concern."

Aberforth heaved a sigh of relief. "Good." Then his eyes narrowed, focused in on Harry. "The small one looks a lot like you when you were wee," he said casually. "Apparently, I'm not the only one with secrets." Severus was about to retort when Aberforth turned his back to leave. "I have a pub to run. Lock up before you leave."

Severus' attention turned to the happily chatting children feeding the happy little goats. "Enough." Severus did not snap, but his tone was menacing and serious enough that the children turned and snapped to attention as they dropped the hay to their feet. Even the goats they had been feeding looked up a Severus curiously before bending their heads and scavenging the dropped hay with no more concern for their benefactors.

"I hope you have had your fun," he said darkly. "It's time to begin your detention."

He could hear the children as the gulped in fear. He pointed his wand at a decrepit work table along a wall and with a flick, child-sized work aprons and three pairs of gloves appeared.

Severus rolled his eyes as the girl nervously raised her hand. "Yes," he said impatiently. "What is it, Ms Granger?"

"We're not going to hu…hurt the goats are we?"

Severus was taken aback. Apparently at some point since their first lesson, Ms Granger had read up on harvesting bezoars. Her reference material was clearly outdated.

"Do you think me so cruel, Ms Granger?" Severus asked sinisterly. To which the trio yelped, "No!" in unison.

Severus allowed himself a satisfied smirk. "No, Ms Granger, no one will be disembowelling goats today, nor will you have to shove your hand down their gullets. Fortunately, somebody invented a potion for that. Mr…Aberforth administered it yesterday, so that job is done and the goats are perfectly fine."

The children were visibly relieved after that and went to the table to don their work vestments.

It was Harry who made the next inquiry. "Erm…Professor Snape, Sir. How do we get the bezoars?"

Severus said nothing, only lightly indicated to the far wall of the barn with his finger. The children turned to see where he was pointing. Their eyes grew as big as an owl's when they saw the two troughs of goat waste.

Mr Weasley was the first to protest. "You mean we have to put our hands in goat shi…"

"I'd advise you to choose your words wisely before you lose another ten points for Gryffindor and earn another night's detention, Mr Weasley."

Mr Weasley's mouth snapped shut.

"And yes, at least two of you will be required to sort through the pellets and put the bezoars in a bucket whilst one of you will have to take the discarded pellets to the compost heap outside."

Severus showed the children exactly what kind of stones they would be looking for. Upon seeing the polished, opaque stone about the size of a robin's egg, Ms Granger declared they were "pretty" and decided she wanted to sort through the pellets. Mr Weasley, upon seeing that the goat's pellets weren't anything like cow manure and that since a girl was willing to sort through the pile, he decided it couldn't be that bad and volunteered as well, which left Harry to discard the buckets.

Ms Granger and Mr Weasley worked diligently and quietly. Harry helped them fill up the first bucket and it was full in only five minutes. Unfortunately, no bezoars were found. Severus escorted Harry outside to the compost heap. After all, the Hog's Head was infamous for its shady clientele. He couldn't risk his son coming across a drunken patron, or worse.

It was perhaps an hour later when Harry was dumping a bucket into the compost pile, that the boy broke the silence.

"Sir, are we related?"

Severus nearly choked. He was grateful for the darkness so the boy couldn't get a good look at his astonished expression.

Severus finally managed to find his voice. "Why do you ask such an impertinent question, Mr Potter?"

He could hear the tone of disappointment in the boy's voice. "I knew it. They were all just imagining things."

"Who was imagining what, Mr Potter?"

Severus' heart was racing. I looked as though the rumours had reached the students. How much did everyone suspect?

It was obvious that the question had been on the boy's mind for quite some time. When Harry answered, his rambling explanation flooded out like a broken dam.

"Well sir, a lot of people say that we kind of look alike and they say you're nicer to me than almost everyone else. Percy said that it's possible we're cousins or something because a lot of wizard families are related and that's why I look like you. And someone gave me permission to play Quidditch. My aunt and uncle would never give me permission so it had to be a witch or a wizard. So I figured everybody must be right." After a long pause Harry asked, "Is it true?"

Severus sat stunned for a moment and blinked. They boy's logic was sound. Already he had come close to puzzling together the truth on his own. But this wasn't the time or place, and Severus still could not find the words he so desperately needed. Yes, his time was running out, but this wasn't right. Not now. Not in front of a compost heap. At least that's how Severus rationalized it.

"It's certainly possible we are somehow related, but if we are distant cousins, it's news to me."

There! It was vague enough not to be an outright lie.

"Then you didn't give me permission to play Quidditch?"

"Mr Potter, I'm head of Slytherin House. What do you think?"

"I guess you wouldn't," Harry said after some thought. "But why are you nice to me?"

"I'm not nice to you, Mr Potter," Severus said. Though he tried to put some contempt in his tone he failed. "You just haven't given me reason enough to be angry with you—yet."

Now that was a lie and Severus knew Harry didn't quite buy into it. After all, the boy was caught sneaking about the corridors after curfew and here he was serving detention. That was enough to incur the wrath of any teacher. But the boy seemed to let it go rather than have Severus elaborate further. Thank goodness.

"I guess someone else is my relative then," Harry said. "Someone gave me permission to play Quidditch."

"It's still possible your aunt gave you permission," Severus said.

Harry simply replied, "No it isn't." Then the boy picked up his empty bucket a returned to the barn.

Severus knew he had to find the courage to tell Harry soon. One thing was certain. His son was no idiot