Potions and Snitches
Snape and Harry Gen Fanfiction Archive

Chapter 13: Backup

“… I killed my father.”

There was a long, long silence.

“Oh,” Albus said softly. He didn’t look shocked, which surprised Severus … just sad. “I see.”

“You—you knew?”

Albus shook his head. “No, I didn’t know. But I can’t pretend the possibility never crossed my mind either.”

“You never said anything!” Severus couldn’t believe his ears. All these years he had lived in fear of Albus finding out—and he had suspected all along! “Why?”

“I hoped that, if it were true, you would tell me of your own volition,” Albus replied.

“You’re not … disappointed in me?”

“Severus, it was a long time ago, and the circumstances were … understandable.”

He had never talked to Albus about the ‘circumstances’, which was a good euphemism. Somehow, years ago, the Headmaster had figured out how much he’d suffered at his father’s hand. Too late to do anything about it—except try to help him deal with the scars.

“It wasn’t self-defence,” Severus said thickly. “I just—just did it. He was just sitting there with his back to me and I killed him.”

“Given everything he’d done to you for years, it’s no surprise you snapped. Besides, you were a different person back then. You’ve changed. I know it, and would be willing to stand up and say so in court if it came to it.”

Severus felt a huge lump in his throat, and couldn’t say a word. Albus smiled, showing he understood.

“Th-thank you.” Severus didn’t know what else to say.

Albus didn’t say anything, but drew Severus into an embrace. Severus clutched his friend tightly in return.

“Um … well, now you know about my father … there’s something else I suppose I should mention …”

-

When Harry started to regain consciousness, he still felt dizzy and nauseous, and his stomach hurt—though nowhere near as much as it had. He didn’t make any movement, just lay there, slowly processing that he wasn’t in his cupboard anymore—he could tell the bed was from somewhere else. Did that mean his dream of being taken out of Privet Drive by Snape and Dudley was real?

The memory of that wasn’t exactly clear, but he vaguely remembered snatches of conversation around him. They didn’t make much sense on their own.

There was one way to find out. He opened his eyes.

He recognised the room immediately—it was one of Snape’s spare rooms. He was tucked up in the floral bedding, the curtains closed to keep out what looked like bright sunlight. Harry gingerly turned his head, and saw Dudley sitting on a chair next to the bed.

“Hi, Harry. Are you feeling better?”

“Um …” Harry said, slowly processing that it hadn’t been a dream. “A little bit.”

“Oh, good. Mr Snape said it would take a while.”

“Right.” Harry tried to rub his eyes, but his arms were still too heavy. He did see that the rashes on his skin had improved, and they didn’t itch as much anymore. “What are you doing here, Big D?”

“I wanted to make sure you were all right.” Dudley paused. “Mr Snape said I could stay until you were better.”

“Do Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon know where you are?”

“Yeah.”

“I bet they’re not happy,” Harry said, grinning weakly.

“I don’t care,” Dudley said firmly. “Until they’re sorry for what they did to you, I’m not talking to them, and I’m not living with them anymore either.”

“You’re not?”

Dudley shook his head. “I’ve moved out.”

Harry was stunned. Dudley trying to help him was enough of a shock—but splitting with his parents over him? He could never have predicted it in a million years.

“What are you going to do?”

Dudley shrugged. “Not sure. I’ll think of something.”

There was a short silence. “Smeltings takes boarders, right?”

“Yeah, why?”

“So if you boarded, you could stay at your school and you’d have somewhere to live during term time.”

“Like you,” Dudley said.

“Yeah. Then you’d only need somewhere during the holidays. I’ve got friends who I’m sure I could persuade to put you up for a few weeks.”

Dudley’s eyes widened. “Er … do you mean that red-headed family?” he asked nervously.

“Not just them, but yes. Don’t worry, I swear I can control the twins,” Harry said firmly. “If I ask them not to prank you they won’t.”

“Maybe,” Dudley said doubtfully. “Do you think you’ll live with them, then?”

“Er … sorry?”

“Well, Snape said you were going back to Mum and Dad over his dead body,” Dudley said. “He’s talking to someone about where you’re going to stay right now, I think.”

Harry took a moment to digest this. “Do you know who the ‘someone’ is?” As he said it, he guessed it was probably Dumbledore.

“I didn’t get a name. Old guy, glasses, long beard—”

“I know the one. Is he here? I’d like to have a say in this.”

“Yeah, they’re downstairs. I can go and get them if you want?”

“Yes please, Dudley.”

When his cousin had left the room, Harry closed his tired eyes, thinking though it made his head worse. His stomach was beginning to twist itself in knots, but he wasn’t sure what he was more afraid of—Dumbledore agreeing with Snape, or Dumbledore not agreeing with Snape. After all, it had been Dumbledore who had initially made the decision to send him to the Dursleys—he must have thought that keeping Harry from Voldemort was worth whatever they did to him. And Harry could see his point of view—if it was a choice between a childhood in a cupboard or death, he supposed he would choose the cupboard. Still, he would give almost anything to have a proper home with someone who actually gave a damn about him.

The question was—would Dumbledore agree to move him? It wasn’t like the Dursleys were beating him or anything. Snape may sound dead set on moving Harry, but Dumbledore was, well, Dumbledore. If he wanted to overrule Snape, he surely could.

And if he did agree to move him … where would he go? Harry knew where he wanted to go—the Burrow, though he would be happy living with anyone who actually cared about him. But what if Dumbledore had other ideas? He was the sort of person who would have a backup plan in case the Dursleys fell through, and Harry couldn’t be sure he would like that one any more than he had liked Plan A. For all he knew it might be worse.

He heard footsteps coming up the stairs, and braced himself for whatever would come. He wasn’t sure whether he planned on arguing with Dumbledore’s decision (whatever it was). He didn’t feel up to trying, but had a feeling he might have to.

Dudley re-entered the room, followed by Snape and Dumbledore. Dudley gave Harry a little smile and sat back down. Snape’s expression was unreadable. Dumbledore smiled at Harry.

“Hello, Harry. Are you feeling better?”

“Are you sending me back to the Dursleys?” Harry asked, in no mood for small talk.

The shock that spread over Dumbledore’s face looked genuine to him. “What? Good heavens, no.”

“You’re not?”

No,” Dumbledore said firmly. “I’m sorry, Harry—I clearly made a huge mistake leaving you with them in the first place.” He gently clasped Harry’s better hand in one of his. “Believe me, if I had known how it would have turned out, I would never have done it.”

Harry felt a lump in his throat as he looked Dumbledore in the eye. He could see guilt and sorrow written in those blue irises, and he felt some of his anxiety ease—but not all of it.

“So where am I going to go?” he asked in a small voice.

Dumbledore looked around at Snape.

“You’ll be staying with me,” Snape said, and Harry’s eyes widened.

“What?”

Snape nodded. “The protections I can put around this house aren’t in the same league as the blood wards at Privet Drive, but they’re still stronger than anything you would find anywhere else save for Hogwarts. And I hope you know that, no matter our history, I would not neglect your needs.”

Harry didn’t know what to say. It wasn’t exactly the Burrow. But somehow, after everything Snape had done for him, he wasn’t sure the thought horrified him the way it would have a few weeks ago.

All thought of arguing left his thoughts. “Okay,” he said quietly.

“You’re welcome to stay as well, Dudley,” Snape said to Harry’s cousin.

“I am?” Dudley asked, sounding stunned.

“I understand you go to boarding school?”

“Well I’ve never actually boarded there, but yeah. Harry already suggested I start boarding so I only need somewhere to stay in the holidays.”

“That would be more practical, if you were to stay here, since I live at Hogwarts term time.”

“But other arrangements can be made for you if you would rather not,” Dumbledore said kindly. “Mrs Figg said she has a spare room, for instance. If you were still local you need not board. Or I can think of several people who would be happy to host you, if you were happy to use the Floo Network to get to school, or change schools.”

Dudley paused thoughtfully. “I think I’d rather stay with Harry. Even if it means boarding. Um, if you’re okay with that,” he said quickly to Harry.

“Yeah,” Harry said, strangely grateful that it wasn’t just going to be him and Snape.

“Well, that settles that,” Dumbledore said. His tone was cheerful, but Harry could tell he was still shaken up. “I will call at Privet Drive and pick up your belongings, both of you.”

“I was going to do that,” Snape said.

“I think it’s probably best you stay away from Petunia, Severus,” Dumbledore said a little darkly. “I will handle it. I have to talk with them anyway so I may as well do both at the same time.”

“All right,” Snape muttered.

Dumbledore left the room. Snape shook off whatever had been bothering him a moment ago and scrutinised Harry carefully. “How do you feel, Potter?”

“Less sore and itchy,” Harry said after a moment. “Otherwise not much change. Sir, what’s wrong with me?”

“You had an allergic reaction to one of the herbs in my tea,” Snape said.

“Oh.”

“You seem to be responding to the treatment, so you should be fine in a couple of days. In the meantime, rest—and you should have something to eat. I’ll bring you up some food, and some more cream for your rashes.” He turned and left.

There was a short silence once he had gone. “Well, that was unexpected,” Harry murmured to himself.

“What?” Dudley asked.

“Living with Snape.”

“Why?”

“He doesn’t like me,” Harry said. “At all.” He paused. “Though he’s been a lot better to me lately than your parents ever were.”

“Good,” Dudley said.

Harry wasn’t sure he understood it. Snape had not just been a decent employer, and looked out for Harry’s needs outside of work, but now he was putting him up for the rest of the summer, and presumably next summer, at least until he was of age. Why?

Of course, it was entirely possible he had slept through a ferocious argument between Snape and Dumbledore over taking Harry in—but he doubted it. Dudley would have heard it, and mentioned it, right?

The room was silent until Snape returned with rash cream and a plate of scrambled eggs.

“Thank you, Professor.”

Snape was about to return downstairs when Harry decided he had to ask. “Sir … why did you agree to take me in?”

There was a short pause. “I already told you. You’re safer here than most places.”

Harry frowned. “That’s not an answer. Didn’t Dumbledore have a backup plan in case it didn’t work out with my aunt and uncle?”

“This is the backup plan, Potter,” Snape said. “It always was, long before you started working for me.”

“It—it was?”

“Yes. Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to make another bedroom suitable to sleep in. Dudley, I will need a hand.”

“Yes, sir,” Dudley said, and hurried after Snape, leaving Harry alone with his very confused thoughts.
To be continued...

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