Potions and Snitches
Snape and Harry Gen Fanfiction Archive

Author's Chapter Notes:
The penultimate chapter, folks!
Finally Open

The whole street was frozen. Harry couldn’t quite believe what was happening. Had he just been thrown out?

 

The question was answered a minute later as the front door opened again, and Vernon appeared lugging Harry’s trunk. Before anyone could do or say anything, he had thrown it onto the pavement, where it burst open, spilling books and robes over the road.

Harry scrambled to pick them all up, nearly knocked unconscious by Hedwig’s cage as the rest of his belongings were tossed out afterwards. The door was slammed shut again.

It took Harry a moment to realise that Snape was bent down next to him, helping him pick things up. A moment later, the neighbours came over and began helping as well.

Fortunately by then Harry had all his obviously magical belongings packed away. They all helped pile his ratty clothes inside, and closed the trunk again. One of the hinges had broken.

“Harry …” Bea Sinclair said in a small voice. “I … we …”

Snape put his hand on Harry’s shoulder and squeezed it. “Let’s get these things inside.”

He took hold of one end of the trunk and steered Harry inside, away from the shell-shocked neighbours. Once the front door was closed, he levitated the trunk into the air and up the stairs.

Harry slumped onto a chair. “They threw me out.”

“You sound disappointed,” Snape commented.

“No—well—it’s just—What on earth am I going to do?”

Snape sighed, and gestured him into the living room. They both sat down on the sofa, moved back into place after the party.

“I have a bit of a confession,” Snape said, staring into the fireplace. “When you first started coming over here, I took my … deductions, about your home life, to Albus Dumbledore.”

Harry’s stomach knotted itself up. “Y-you told him you thought I was being a-abused?”

“Not in so many words—I simply described what I had seen for myself,” Snape said. “Funnily enough, he didn’t seem too happy about it all either. Ever since he has been making arrangements for you to stay permanently with the Weasley family.”

Harry’s eyes widened. “What? Really?”

“Yes. I thought it might be best to hold off on telling you until it was all set in place. I’m not sure if you know this, but you have—had, I should say—magical protections around your home with the Dursleys. The Headmaster has been working on putting some around the Burrow.”

Harry was stunned. He didn’t know what to say. Go and live with the Weasleys? Permanently?

His first reaction was joy. He loved the Weasleys, and he loved the Burrow. It would be like … like having a family, a home. At last. His vision blurred and he hastily wiped his eyes on his sleeve.

But then a thought occurred to him. Once he was with the Weasleys … well, that was it. He and Snape would no longer be neighbours—he would no longer be spending any time with him, not like this. Harry felt his heart tug painfully.

“Professor …”

“What is it?” Snape asked. Harry took a deep breath and took the plunge.

“I know we’re not exactly friends and you don’t really like me, but do you think I could visit sometimes? I’ll even do work if you want, and you don’t have to pay me or anything.”

Snape blinked, looking completely taken aback. “Really? You want that?”

Harry nodded vigorously. To his disappointment, Snape sighed.

“I don’t think that will be possible.”

“Oh, I get it,” Harry said in a small voice. “It’s okay; it was a stupid idea, I know you don’t want me around any more than you have—”

“Potter, stop it. That’s not the reason. I … I do like you.” Harry’s head shot up. Snape looked sincere. “And I have enjoyed having you around more than I ever thought possible. But …” He paused. “There’s something you should know about me.”

He pulled up his sleeve, and tapped his lower arm with his wand. A tattoo appeared; a skull with a serpent tongue.

“What’s that?”

“It’s a Dark Mark, sign of Death Eater,” Snape said heavily.

Harry cursed his ignorance. “What’s that?”

“A follower of the Dark Lord.”

Harry gaped at Snape, who looked deadly serious. “What? You—you—”

“Followed him. Past tense.”

“You … killed people?” Harry asked tentatively.

There was a long pause. “Yes.”

A longer pause stretched while Harry tried to wrap his mind around it. “I don’t care.”

What?

“I don’t care what you did then. I know you now and bad people don’t go to the lengths you did to help people they hate.”

“I think that’s a bit of an over-simplification,” Snape said.

“I don’t,” Harry said firmly. “Why are you telling me this?”

“Because I need you to understand. Being a Death Eater is not exactly easy to walk away from. He may not be very powerful anymore, but I believe one day he will come back—then there is also the question of other Death Eaters who were never convicted. For years I have been secretly loyal to Dumbledore, passing him information from among the Dark Lord’s circle—and to that end, there are certain behaviours expected of me. I cannot suddenly appear to … to like … the Boy Who Lived.”

Harry’s stomach felt filled with lead. “Oh.” He swallowed. “So you’re saying … when the summer’s over … it’s over.”

“You’ve got a new life ahead of you,” Snape said gently. “You’ve got the Weasleys who would crawl over broken glass to have you. You won’t need me anyway.”

There was a long pause. “Professor, you remember when you said, if I had refused the cake I wouldn’t have offended anyone?”

Snape frowned. “Yes …”

“Do you think that applies to going to live with them?”

Pardon? You don’t want to live with them?

“No. Well, yes, but … sort of.”

“I think they’d be very disappointed,” Snape said slowly. “They’ve probably been looking forward to this for a long time. But offended? No, I don’t think so. They would just want to know you were happy and taken care of.”

“Well, I’m happy and taken care of here,” Harry said quietly.

“… Oh.”

“And I—I love the Weasleys to bits but—I’ve r-really settled in here and—and I’d l-like to stay.” It was a struggle to get out, against Harry’s instincts of not asking for things he didn’t feel he deserved. “I trust Dumbledore could and would protect us if it came to it. And I’d k-keep working for you if you like, you wouldn’t even have to pay me—”

“Stop right there!” Snape exclaimed. “You’ll do no such thing!”

Harry deflated. “Oh … okay then,” he said in a small voice. “I’ll go to the Weasleys.”

“That’s not what I meant, silly boy.” Snape opened his arms. “Come here.”

For a moment Harry was frozen, unable to believe the invitation. “R-really?”

“Really. Sod Albus and his wards. If you really want to stay with me, and I still can’t imagine why you would, then you’re staying with me. The Dark Lord will just have to lump it.”

A slow grin spread over Harry’s face and he dived into the embrace. Snape hugged him fiercely.

“And you will not be doing unpaid labour in order to stay, either,” he said into Harry’s hair. “You will stay because … I want you to stay.”

“You do?”

“Yes, Harry. I do.”

-

How had his life changed so much in the space of a minute?

Severus was reflecting on the choice he’d made as he stared absently at the remains of Harry’s birthday cakes, hearing the boy himself move around the room above. Strange, really … up until now, the thought of sacrificing his spy status had seemed such a big deal when he had considered it. But now he’d made the choice, it no longer mattered.

Harry was right. Albus would protect them. If only to protect himself against Severus should something happen to Harry. And there were other ways to get information.

But when Harry had made his plea, there was nothing on earth that could have stopped Severus from giving him what he wanted.

Hmm … He would have to look out for that. Just in case Harry ever gained the confidence and motivation for becoming as manipulative as Severus had used to think him. Though now he knew the child well, he doubted it.

The doorbell rang, pulling him from his thoughts.

“You called, Severus?” Albus said pleasantly, stepping into the house.

“I did,” Severus replied. “I thought you should have an update on the Dursley situation.”

“Oh?”

“Harry’s been thrown out.”

“Ah,” Albus said. “I see. And?”

“And …” Severus took a breath, preparing himself for whatever reaction was coming. “He will be staying with me from now on.”

To Severus’ surprise, Albus smiled broadly. “Thank Merlin. I was beginning to wonder if I should be dropping any heavy hints.”

“I beg your pardon? Were you—did you—Albus what are you talking about?”

“Well, when you told me about the Dursleys, I had a feeling that maybe once you got to know Harry a bit better, you would be choosing to take him in yourself,” Albus said cheerfully. “To that end I gave you the time to work it out. Though I must say it took you long enough.”

“Albus!” Severus spluttered. “Do you mean he were lying about putting wards around the Burrow?”

“Not … entirely. I did put some around. It seemed sensible, since you thought I was doing them anyway, and since Harry spends so much time there; also considering that that time could be increasing if he had no need to spend so long with the Dursleys in order for the wards to work. It took about three days.”

“And you’ve been sitting on your backside laughing at me ever since. Thanks a lot.”

“So you’d rather I had moved him straight away, and taken away the chance for you and he to get to know each other?” Albus’ eyes twinkled.

“All right,” Severus mumbled. “No, I don’t.”

“There we are then. Where is young Harry?”

“Unpacking in the spare—in his room.” Severus paused to enjoy how those words felt.

Harry’s room.

Harry’s room In my house.

Our house!

Yes … that felt wonderful.


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