Work Text:
Despite it being a Saturday, the headmistress of the small wizarding school in Hogsmeade agreed to meet with them on short notice. Severus suspected it was because Albus had asked. Everyone fell over themselves when the great Albus Dumbledore asked for special treatment, but Severus could not complain since this time it benefited him as well.
Harry was dressed smartly in a blue dress shirt and pressed trousers. Severus had given up his hair as a lost cause and hoped the headmistress would not think him a slob for allowing Harry to walk around like that.
“From now on you will be Harry Snape, understood?” he said as he straightened the collar of Harry’s shirt one last time and slipped his cloak around his shoulders.
Harry’s eyes lit up. “Does that mean you are my dad?”
Severus blinked, completely taken aback by the boy’s enthusiastic question. “Do you want me to be?” he asked very carefully.
The boy’s face went completely blank before Harry quickly lowered his eyes, shrugging non-committedly.
Severus wanted to shake him. What was he to make of these mercurial moods? Why couldn’t the child answer a simple question?
But it wasn’t simple, was it? In fact, it was a rather loaded question and at a very inconvenient time, wasn’t it? In the right combination even an innocent ingredient like moonstone could have disastrous effects. But Severus knew how to deal with mercurial things, didn’t he? Treat him like an especially volatile potion, he told himself. Look for the signs and you’ll find out how to deal with him. Observe, the first rule of all potions making. Observation was key.
He looked down at the boy’s hunched shoulders and went over their conversation. The boy had been radiant when he’d heard that he’d be called Snape.
Does that mean you are my dad now?
Then he’d closed off when Severus had countered with another question. Just like the other day. When Severus had spoken to him about the Weasleys.
“Severus.” Albus’s voice interrupted his train of thought. “I believe, we should be going.”
“Yes, of course,” Severus replied, resting a hand on Harry’s shoulder, making a mental note to get back to his observations after their visit.
The woman who greeted them seemed far too young to be leading an entire school for children. She couldn’t be much older than Severus himself.
“Ah, Professor Snape and you must be Harry Snape, what a pleasure to meet you!” She held out her hand for Harry to shake first, all smiles and sunshine, then offered him some biscuits before they all settled at a round table.
Hufflepuff, Severus thought after Miss Somerset had introduced herself, hiding a sneer. Of course, she was. And the same age as him. Far too young to be leading an entire school! Wonderful.
And from the stars in Harry’s eyes when he looked at her, Ms Somerset had the boy already wrapped around her little finger. Severus wanted to snatch Harry up and leave right then and there, but they were running out of time and come Monday, Severus would be back to teaching during the day.
“So, you basically leave the children to pursue whatever flight of fancy they get into their heads?” Severus asked after she had given them a tour through the small school building and the adjacent grounds. The wards, at least, seemed to be solid enough, and they did have a library which held more textbooks than Severus would have expected, some of them as advanced as Hogwarts first year texts.
Her eyes twinkled with mischief. “Basically, yes.”
Severus couldn’t help but scoff. Hufflepuff. Of course she would rather have the children running wild than teaching them discipline.
“Perhaps you would like to come during school hours and see for yourself what our children are up to all day?” she offered with a sunny smile that Severus mistrusted on principle.
He glanced at Harry who was giving him a hopeful look and pretending not to. Their eyes met briefly before Harry hurriedly looked back at the table where they had settled around again, shoulders hunched slightly. He didn’t need a bunch of rumbunctious children who would make fun of him. This had the potential to be the Weasleys all over again.
Severus felt a headache forming behind his temples and his eye twitching slightly.
This was the only school close enough to Hogwarts. The only other option would be to let Harry stay with the Weasleys during the day or find a school further away. Just the thought of that, however, made Severus break out into a sweat. Hogsmeade was already terribly far away and the Weasleys were definitely not an option.
“I have a free period on Monday between ten and eleven and another two hours on Thursday afternoon,” he admitted grudgingly. “Would that suit?”
Ms Somerset was all smiles again. “Perfectly. Will you bring Harry as well?”
“I’m sure Harry would be delighted!” Albus said, eyes twinkling.
Ms Somerset, to her credit, simply ignored Albus’s remark, her eyes resting on Severus, waiting for his reaction.
Severus felt the weight of responsibility almost crushing in its enormity. How could he decide such a thing? What if he made the wrong decision and only made Harry suffer more?
“We shall try it for a week and see how it goes,” he heard himself say.
Ms Somerset’s smile was full of understanding. But how could she understand? He himself hadn’t understood until this child had landed in his lap, trauma and responsibility and everything that came attached with it.
“A very wise decision. Just bring him by when is most convenient for you. The school opens at seven thirty in the morning.”
*.*.*
Severus braced himself before he entered the little school building on Monday at ten sharp, ready for a rowdy bunch of little children. He’d brought Harry early in the morning and then wished he hadn’t when he could barely concentrate on his morning classes. At least they had been his seventh year NEWTS, so they could be largely trusted around cauldrons.
“Ah, Professor Snape,” the headmistress greeted him as he passed the threshold, “right on time.”
The building was surprisingly quiet. He could hear children laughing outside, but no screams, no one running around.
“Are the children not in?” Severus inquired.
“Oh they are around.” Ms Somerset smiled. Of course, she did. “You are free to walk around and observe. The teachers here usually just keep themselves available until the children ask them to teach something specific. I have to warn you though, word might have gotten out that Severus Snape, youngest Potions Master in a century, is making an appearance today. Some of the children might approach you with questions.”
“Is that so?” he drawled. He couldn’t really imagine what kind of questions little children could possibly have. Silly questions probably, given what ignorance he’d usually have to put up with.
This time the headmistress’s smile held a hint of mischief as she replied, “I guess, you’ll see for yourself. If you need anything or need rescuing, let me know.”
Severus almost scoffed. Rescuing. He was Severus Snape, he did not need rescuing from a bunch of little children that were barely old enough to read.
“I think I’ll manage.”
Her eyes danced. “Of course.”
The school was not very big. There was a reasonably large room where a few children were sitting around chatting. Of course they were. This is what happened if one left children to their own devices. No, he was certain that Harry would not learn the simplest things if he remained here.
Severus strode down the hall and saw a few heads peeking out from the rooms that lined the hall, eyeing him with various expressions ranging from suspicion to awe. The children were less raucous than Severus would have expected, given that they were basically left to their own devices all day. No one ran around screaming, at least not in the house. He could hear laughter and shrieks drifting in from outside where he knew a big playground to be and a small patch where children could fly with practice brooms.
“Is that your dad?” he heard someone whisper from further down, but couldn’t make out the answer. Knowing Harry, he’d probably given a non-verbal answer if any at all. He followed the voice to see what this group of children was up to, taking a peek into the rooms he passed where, to his astonishment, he found some children drawing quietly in a craft room, whilst quiet laughter drifted from…a woodworking workshop? Here he found the first adult, explaining wood grain of all things to a child. The man gave Severus only a passing nod, the small girl that sat at a heavy table with a whittling knife in her hand his main focus. A few children drifted past him, giving him curious looks, a few whispers following in his wake.
A bespectacled girl who was even smaller than Harry with a blond braid hanging down her back stood in his way when he turned back from the woodworking workshop to continue his perusal.
“Excuse me, sir,” the girl piped up. “Is it true that you are Severus Snape, Potions Master and Professor at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry?”
“Indeed,” Severus replied, quietly amused at her obviously practiced speech. “And you are?”
The girl’s eyes widened in awe, then she jolted, blushing furiously. “Oh! I’m so sorry, sir. I’m Brunhilda Dalrymple.” She puffed out her chest and stuck out her hand and Severus could only shake it in bemusement.
“Pleased to meet you, Miss Dalrymple.”
The girl’s blush deepened even further before she curtsied and whipped around to race back into the last room off the hall which Severus remembered to be the library from his tour on Saturday.
“I told you!” he heard Harry’s voice hiss.
Before Severus had time to follow, the girl came back with a book that was almost as large as she was and turned out to be Paracelsus’s Compendium of Nymphs, Sylphs, Salamanders and Other Magickal Beings and their use for Medicinal Draughts and Elixirs. Behind her half a dozen children were peeking around the doorframe that led to the library, watching the girl and Severus whilst trying and utterly failing to stay hidden.
“Sir, I thought Paracelsus’s work to be fascinating, but Mortimer thinks the book is outdated, but there is no other compendium I could find,” Miss Dalrymple complained.
Severus took the heavy tome from her hands, leafing through its pages.
“I believe you are both correct,” he drawled. “Perhaps you could show me what your library has to offer. I might be able to give some pointers.”
“Yes!” she cried, her entire face radiating before she whipped around, then spun back to stare up at him with shining eyes. “Thank you, sir.”
“Lead the way, Miss Dalrymple.” He motioned with the book and the girl skipped ahead, looking as if Severus had given her an early Christmas present. She must be an anomaly.
At his words a commotion broke out in the library of hurried little feet racing back to whatever they had been doing before they had been spying on him. Severus hid a satisfied smile. This was exactly what he had expected of a school that left children to do whatever they wanted.
He followed Miss Dalrymple into the library and was surprised as he found the small group of children scattered over a few small tables, all looking rather studious with heavy books piled on the tables between them, and all of them watching him enter with various amounts of reverence. He was proud to find Harry among them, but then, he was a very curious child and had a few years to make up for.
Miss Dalrymple skipped over to the table where Harry sat at and whispered to him, “You’re right, he is quite nice. He called me Miss Dalrymple!”
Harry blinked. “Why would he call you that?”
The girl rolled her eyes. “It’s my name, silly. Like yours is Snape!”
Harry’s eyes darted to Severus at that, his cheeks blushing. Severus gave him what he hoped was an encouraging nod.
“The books, Miss Dalrymple?”
“Oh! Oh, yes, sir! They’re all here on the table!” She made a sweeping gesture with her hands at the assortment of books. “We pulled them all when we knew you might be coming!”
Severus stared at the gathered children in disbelief. “You are all interested in potions?”
“Yes, sir,” they all chorused, beaming at him.
Severus could only stare. Even counting out Harry there were still half a dozen children left. What in Merlin’s name was going on here?
“We…um…we were all hoping you could tell us a bit more about potions,” the blond boy who was sitting next to Harry stammered, cheeks a furious red. “Miss Somerset is really nice, but we’ve never had a real potions master before!”
As if his question had been some secret signal, the other children chimed in as well.
“The books say you’re the youngest potions master ever!”
“And the youngest Hogwarts Professor in a century!”
“How did you do it? I want to be a potions master too!”
“Me too!” came from several directions.
“Is it true you invented …”
Severus held up a hand to stop the barrage of questions, feeling completely out of his depth. This had never happened before in any of his classes. “One question at a time, please.”
They looked at each other, until a chubby little boy said, “How did you get your mastery so young? I wanna do it too!” A few of the other children nodded sagely.
“Hard work,” Severus replied, drifting over to the tables to take a look at the collection of potions books. “I spent most of my free time at Hogwarts studying potions and improving on the recipes in my textbook.”
The boy’s face fell. “So, it’s true, you’re a prodigy.”
“What’s a pro-dy-gee?” Harry asked in a whisper.
The blond boy next to him shrugged.
“A genius, of course!” A mousy girl with brown hair and freckles declared.
Harry stared at Severus in awe and some of the other children did too. Severus did not know what to make of that and so simply ignored it.
When he came back on Thursday afternoon there were almost a dozen children eagerly awaiting him.
“I hope you don’t mind,” the headmistress said with an apologetic smile. “I do have a NEWT in potions, but a real master, well, it’s an opportunity for all of them.”
It certainly was, Severus could agree on that. But…why? Why potions of all things? They were still young, children weren’t supposed to be interested in anything but ice cream and fairy tales. It was utterly baffling.
More and more children drifted in whilst Severus answered questions. They settled quietly on chairs, more quietly than most adults would have done. A few left—as quietly as they had come and without fanfare—but the majority stayed, so that in the end, there seemed to be half the school sitting around him, notebooks and books open, looking more studious than any NEWT class Severus had ever taught. Most of them even asked intelligent questions he’d never been asked before.
“Is it true, that Potions is the most dangerous of all subjects and that people have died in the past?” asked Miss Merryweather, the mousy girl who seemed to know everything about cauldrons and stirring rods.
“It is indeed, and yes students unfortunately have, although none since I started teaching at Hogwarts.”
That brought a chorus of oohs and aahs and more questions on how he did it and what was so dangerous and on and on it went.
“Will you come back and show us how to brew something?” Miss Dalrymple asked when the headmistress declared that school was over for the day and that it was time for everyone to pack up and go home.
“Please?” added Mr Bosworth, the chubby boy who to Severus’s utter astonishment had half the first year potions recipes memorised.
Harry was staring at Severus with big, hopeful eyes and before he knew it, he had agreed to come back for another Thursday session.
“How is this possible?” he asked the headmistress whilst Harry was away collecting his cloak, gloves and hat, feeling at a loss. “Why are they so…”
“Curious?” she supplied with her usual mischievous grin. “They are children. All children are naturally curious.”
Severus scoffed. “None of my students are.”
For the first time Ms Somerset’s smile slipped a bit. “That’s because by the time the children attend Hogwarts, they have been taught to associate learning with something outside of themselves. They are sadly taught to ignore their own curiosity and instead do whatever the teacher tells them to do or wants them to learn. That’s when learning becomes a chore and tedious. If left to their own curiosity children learn astonishingly quickly, but maybe not in the order we deem necessary.”
Severus had a lot to think about as he accompanied Harry back to the castle.
“Are you angry?” Harry asked when they sat down to have tea.
Severus blinked out of his thoughts. “Why would I be?”
Harry shrugged, staring down at his ginger biscuit without touching it.
“Did something happen whilst I was talking with the headmistress?”
Another shrug. Severus barely restrained himself from banging his head against the table.
“Did you enjoy school today?”
Shrug.
“Are you angry with me?”
That at least got a different reaction. “Why would I be angry with you?”
Severus leaned back in his chair and steepled his fingers. “Well, let’s see. Perhaps you are angry that I came to school today and spent so much time answering the other children’s questions. Perhaps you don’t like the school and are angry with me for sending you there. Perhaps you are angry that you’re stuck with me.”
Harry’s eyes grew impossibly wide and he started to vehemently shake his head. “No!”
“No?”
Harry shook his head wildly. Why was it so much easier to get a ‘no’ out of the child than anything else? Severus valiantly resisted the urge to knock his head against the table once more.
“Well, then you need to enlighten me as to why you think I might be angry.”
Harry stared resolutely at his ginger biscuit as he slowly turned it into powdery dust between his little fingers.
Severus rubbed his eyes. The day had been going so well.
“All right, I have a theory.”
Harry tensed.
“You seem to be afraid to give me a straight answer or tell me your preferences, probably because you fear I might use that knowledge against you as your wretched relatives have done. How am I doing so far?”
Harry seemed to have stopped breathing, face as white as a sheet. Too late Severus realised that perhaps confronting the poor child was not the best course of action. This was usually the stage where Severus had to either vanish the potion or throw up a hasty shield, so that the ensuing explosion wouldn’t kill him.
But he couldn’t vanish the child and he had a suspicion that the child was more prone to implosion than explosion which would only hurt him.
So, what could he do to salvage the situation?
“How about some ice cream?” Severus said. Every child liked ice cream and Harry could use a bit more weight anyway.
Harry scrunched up his face and squinted at Severus as if he was the one who had suddenly turned into a very volatile potion.
“You don’t like ice cream?” Severus inquired.
The eyes narrowed even further and Severus realised his mistake immediately. Harry didn’t do well with questions about his preferences and Severus wanted to curse Petunia and her oaf of a husband once more.
“All right, ice cream it is.”
*.*.*
Because of a distinct lack of alternatives, Harry continued to go to school in Hogsmeade, whilst Severus found himself visiting the school twice a month on a Thursday afternoon to brew potions with at least a dozen children if not the entire school. And as the days slowly lengthened and the snowdrops blossomed, Severus could no longer deny that the school seemed to be good for Harry, slowly drawing him out of his shell and fostering his curiosity just like Ms Somerset had predicted. It was astonishing, defying all expectations. Yet despite the evidence, Severus could not entirely let go of his reservations, closely observing Harry and his academical progress, still certain that children who chose themselves what they wanted to study were bound to develop deficits. For the moment, however, Harry was clearly enjoying his new school and had developed a hunger for learning that Severus rarely saw in the children he taught. So he continued with the arrangement and watched and wondered.
On Fridays Severus had entrusted Hagrid with the important task of picking Harry up from school, since Severus himself was busy with his NEWT students and could not make it in time to Hogsmeade. Harry had taken to the gentle giant like a house on fire, pestering him about magical creatures and their care. The boy was like a sponge, soaking up any kind of knowledge with a remarkable capacity to retain what he’d learned. Severus was still trying to figure out whether it was an inborn talent or something his school environment fostered for he’d noticed several of Harry’s new school friends being knowledgable far beyond their age.
It was one such Friday when just as Severus had settled on the sofa after a heated discussion with his five seventh year NEWT students about the advantages of powdering flutterby wings instead of crushing them, the door to his quarters flew open and Harry tore into their quarters like a whirlwind. Hagrid quickly waved his goodbyes, grinning widely as if knowing something Severus did not.
“Daddy, daddy, guess what!” Harry exclaimed excitedly and thus drawing Severus’s attention.
But just as Severus’s eyes landed on the lively little boy, Harry’s face suddenly drained of all colour, his eyes taking up his entire face.
“Harry?” Severus was up in a flash, his heartrate spiking as his mind immediately went over everything that could cause the child to look like this. Stroke? No, too young. Heart attack? Too young as well. Some curse? Unlikely, but not impossible. As much as Severus trusted Hagrid to protect Harry with his life, he knew that the gentle giant didn’t always realise what small and squishy humans needed.
Severus rushed over to where Harry stood close to the door, only to stop short when Harry jerked back, stumbling until he hit the wall, a nameless terror Severus hadn’t seen for a while written all over his white face.
“I’m sorry!” Harry burst out suddenly. “I didn’t mean to! I’m so sorry!”
Severus froze, wondering what he had done to garner such a reaction. “Harry?” he said in the softest voice he could muster whilst his mind was whirling. The child was still impossibly pale and it pained Severus to listen to Harry’s panicked mantra of apologies.
He slowly lowered himself to his knees, so that he wouldn’t tower over Harry, trying to guess what might have happened. “Harry, do you feel sick? Did something happen at school?”
He regulated his own breathing, falling back on his Occlumency to clear his mind and then go over every minute detail that he could recall since Harry had entered. Diagnostic. He should have cast a diagnostic immediately, but pointing his wand now would probably not go over well. What then?
Severus felt his eyes widen when it hit him. Harry had called him daddy in his exuberance. His mind went completely blank, there was a strange rushing in his ears and he was almost certain that he was the one with the heart attack as the strangest sensation suddenly coursed through him, causing his heart to stutter painfully. He had to force himself to take three slow and measured breaths, but his mind still snagged on that one word. Daddy.
But he couldn’t get lost in his own head, he had a panicking child to soothe.
“It’s all right, Harry,” he said, voice coming out hoarse and wobbly. He couldn’t fall apart now, he couldn’t. “You may call me whatever you feel comfortable with.”
Harry shook his head wildly, nearly stumbling with the motion, breath catching in his throat.
Severus reached for him on instinct, to prevent him from falling, but Harry flinched and shrank away from his hand, still staring at him as if he expected Severus to turn into a monster. No. Not a monster. His wretched uncle.
“I promise, I will not hurt you and you did nothing wrong, Harry. You are allowed to call me whatever you feel comfortable with. I promise.” Severus would sort out his own feelings on this later. Or never.
But Harry would not be soothed and could clearly not be reasoned with. He was like a wild animal, waiting to be hurt or worse and nothing Severus said seemed to penetrate his panicked mind and he would not let Severus come anywhere near him.
Severus rubbed a hand down his face, feeling exhausted even though it was not even supper time.
Then something occurred to him that might convince Harry of his honesty. It was a long shot, but he needed to do something to comfort his hysterical child.
“I’ll be but a moment,” he said softly, carefully rising to his feet and hurrying into his bedroom.
When Severus returned, the sitting room was sorely lacking one distraught little boy.
Severus stared around in horror. He had left Harry, had left him when he was panicking. How could he have done that? How stupid could one man be? He allowed himself one moment to sink into a very undignified heap on the floor and panic. Why had he left Harry alone in such a state? Where would he be? Severus had told Albus and Molly, repeatedly, that he wasn’t fit to raise a child and now look what had happened!
A gossamer touch to the shoulder startled him out of his momentary panic and he looked up to see Harry standing in front of him, biting his lip worriedly.
Severus couldn’t help it, he pulled Harry into his arms and held him against his chest. His eyes fell on the open cabinet door in the kitchen and he wanted to weep for all the things that had happened to Harry.
“I’m sorry, Harry. I shouldn’t have left you alone.” He carded his fingers through Harry’s wild hair, needing the reassurance that Harry was whole and hale and there and hadn’t suddenly disappeared because Severus was just too incompetent to care for a child.
Harry was stiff as a board at first and Severus was already wondering whether he couldn’t even get an embrace right when a pair of thin arms wrapped around him, reluctant at first, then, when Severus did not let go, tightened more and more until Harry was almost disappearing into Severus’s robes.
Severus found himself babbling soothing nonsense, reassuring Harry that he could call Severus whatever he wanted.
It was a while until he remembered why he’d left Harry and he extricated one arm from the barnacle his precious little charge had turned into, picking up the adoption papers he had dropped in his panic.
“Here, this is what I wanted to show you,” he said, heart pounding in his chest. He could suddenly understand Harry’s urge to hide in the cabinet. Now Severus wanted to hide in the cabinet himself, so that he wouldn’t see Harry’s reaction to the documents. What if the child didn’t want him? Of course, he didn’t want Severus, Severus was a wretched man. He stuffed his thoughts far beneath his Occlumency shields and held the papers out for Harry to peruse.
Harry peeked out from Severus’s shoulder to give the documents Severus had fetched a curious look. “I hadn’t mentioned it because I wanted you to settle a bit first and think about the situation and…” He cut himself off. He was babbling. Again. What on earth was wrong with him?
After what felt like an eternity Harry finally reached out to take the papers from Severus’s hands, reading them carefully, a deep crease appearing between his brows as his lips moved to sound out some of the words. It was a standard adoption form that Albus had procured from somewhere and which Severus had already signed. Albus had added a letter of recommendation and indicated that he would speak on Severus’s behalf to make certain that everything went smoothly.
Harry stared silently at the papers. “My aunt signed this,” he finally said.
“Yes, she did.” Severus tried not to think of that particular visit. Petunia hadn’t even needed persuasion, not caring one whit who Severus was. She just wanted to be rid of the boy.
Harry stared a long time at the signatures of his aunt and uncle, his small finger resting over his aunt’s name.
“They just gave me away,” he finally said, sounding utterly lost, as if all hope had been crushed with his aunt’s simple signature.
Severus opened his mouth, but his mind was suddenly devoid of all thought. He wanted to curse Petunia and her walrus of a husband, curse Albus for leaving Harry with those people, and himself for all his wrong decisions.
In the end, all he did was carefully pulling the boy closer to his side, one arm draped around his bony shoulders and settling on, “I’m so very sorry, Harry.”
Harry just nodded as if he hadn’t expected any different. His finger slid over the parchment until it settled on Severus’s signature right at the bottom. The only line left was the one where Harry himself needed to sign.
“This is your signature.” His eyes flashed briefly to Severus before darting back to the document.
“Yes, it is,” Severus confirmed.
Harry looked up at him then, eyes taking up his entire face, and Severus didn’t need to be a Legilimens to read his thoughts. Why do you want me if they don’t?
Severus wasn’t ready for this conversation. Ever.
He sat back on his heels and took Harry’s hands to have something to focus on. “I…” He drew a blank. Why did he sign? It was utter madness, that’s what it was, brought about by Albus’s and Molly’s encouragement. He couldn’t take in a child, he couldn’t. The Ministry would never let him have Harry, no matter what Albus said.
Harry was staring at him, waiting.
“Well, you didn’t want to live with the Weasleys,” Severus began awkwardly.
Harry stiffened, eyes widening in horror as he shook his head.
“And you have indicated that you did want to stay with me,” Severus continued, the words dragging. He’d rather take a Cruciatus than have this conversation, but needs must and besides, he’d been a spy in the Dark Lord’s camp, he would not cower over a simple conversation! “And, well, I find myself…despite everything…taking…pleasure in your company.”
Harry’s brow furrowed and Severus held his breath. How? How had the boy wormed his way into Severus’s heart, so that just one word would crush him? Severus wasn’t supposed to even possess such a thing!
“But no one likes me,” Harry finally said in a barely audible whisper. “I’m a freak.”
The words hit Severus like a Bombarda, blindsiding him, so that he resorted to his usual coping strategy—sarcasm. “Well, then you’re in good company,” he heard himself say. “No one likes me either. And my students call me the bat of the dungeons or…” No, he wouldn’t repeat some of the other things they called him.
“Or what?” Harry asked, looking up at him with narrowed eyes.
Severus raised an eyebrow at the sudden fire in Harry’s expression. “Well, I’ve heard greasy git a few times.”
Harry’s eyes widened in obvious dismay, then narrowed again into fiery indignation. “That’s mean!”
Severus shrugged. “They’re not entirely wrong. I told you I’m not a nice man. I can be rather mean myself.”
Once more Harry’s eyes widened and he made a small movement as if to free himself of Severus then his eyes narrowed again and the outrage was back. Such a volatile little boy. “Mean how?”
“I give out detentions, tell them in no uncertain terms when they’re wrong and let them scrub cauldrons.”
Harry’s whole face suddenly brightened. “Can I help you scrub cauldrons?”
Severus couldn’t hold back the snort. What an odd child. “If you want to.”
Harry whipped around as if to search for the nearest cauldron to scrub before he noticed the parchment still held in his hand. His entire demeanour fell and his forehead creased as he stared at it.
Severus settled a careful hand on his shoulder. “You’re not a freak, Harry. You’re a wizard who was carted off to Muggles who did not appreciate his talents.”
“Like the ugly duckling,” Harry said softly, eyes still fixed on the parchment. Severus wasn’t quite sure whether he was staring at his aunt’s signature or at Severus’s.
Severus blinked at the comment and racked his brain before he remembered the fairy tale. “Yes,” Severus ground out through a suddenly tight throat. “Like that.”
Harry nodded. “What if you get tired of me too?” He flashed a glance at Severus before quickly dropping his gaze to the floor.
Severus didn’t have an answer. What good would any reassurance do? “What if you get tired of me?” he asked instead.
“I wouldn’t,” Harry declared with righteous indignation, just like Lily would have done.
Best friends forever, Sev .
“Well, you might. We are bound to disagree one of these days and I’m not perfect.”
Harry studied him carefully and Severus could not get a read on him, his own emotions too close to the surface to think clearly. “You do not have to decide now,” he offered. “I showed this to you, so that you know it is all right to call me…whatever you want to call me. I am here for you. For however long you wish to have me.”
Harry gave the parchment a longing look before holding it out to Severus with a resigned expression.
“Keep it”, Severus insisted. “You decide what happens to this. You can burn it or if this is something you want, you can sign it whenever you feel ready and leave it for me to find. This is your decision, Harry. If you rather want to live somewhere else, I’ll find you another family. A quiet family who will love you and take care of you like your own parents would have.”
Somehow Severus had got it wrong again because instead of looking reassured, the boy’s shoulders slumped and his gaze stayed resolutely trained on the floor as he slowly turned in the direction of his room.
Severus couldn’t just leave him like that. He tried to remember what his own mother would have done but came up blank, then tried to imagine what Molly Weasley would do, but Severus did not do hugs or displays of emotion or emotions in general. Well, usually he didn’t.
But Harry looked utterly dejected, not as if Severus had given him a choice, but put the weight of the world on his shoulders. This would not do. Severus needed to be clearer, spell it out plainly. Harry was eight and had been taught to distrust everyone.
He swallowed his pride and awkwardly slipped one arm around the boy’s shoulders even though he should be used to this by now with all the hugging they had done today. Harry tensed, then his shoulders slumped and tensed again. Severus shuffled closer, slipping his other arm around Harry as well, nudging him closer whilst watching out for the slightest sign that the boy didn’t welcome the touch.
“I would be honoured to be your father,” Severus finally admitted in a scratchy voice, holding his breath and making sure to keep his touch light, so that Harry could free himself immediately if he wanted to.
Harry stood utterly still and Severus felt his own cheeks heat in embarrassment at having read the situation so utterly wrong, when Harry suddenly slumped against him, face buried in Severus’s robes. Severus very carefully tightened his hold and felt the bony shoulders trembling beneath his fingers. Wetness spread where Harry’s face was pressed into Severus’s shoulders, but no sound escaped. Making a sound was dangerous, Severus had learned that lesson just the same as Harry, apparently, had. He carefully lifted the boy into his arms and stood up with him to settle more comfortably onto the sofa, his knees creaking in protest from being forced onto the hard floor for so long.
“It’s all right,” Severus said softly when Harry’s whole body started shaking and then said the opposite of what his father would have said, feeling like breaking a taboo as he whispered into Harry’s hair, “It’s all right to cry.”
Harry’s breath hitched, followed by a stifled sob as he shook his head.
Severus carded his fingers through Harry’s unruly hair and repeated the words, as if trying to convince himself as much as Harry of their truth. “It’s all right to cry.”
Another sob, louder this time, followed by another, this one more stifled. And then the floodgates opened.
Severus felt the sting in his own eyes as he held the sobbing child close to his heart, cradling him in his arms and wishing he could have protected him from all those lessons Severus himself had learned under his father’s belt.
“It’s all right to cry,” he said again and felt wetness on his own cheeks.
They stayed like that for a good long while, until the sobs quieted and Harry cried himself to sleep, his hands still fisted into Severus’s robes.
Severus swore then that he would do everything in his power to give Harry the best childhood a child could have.
*.*.*
When Severus woke up the next morning, Harry was still asleep, curled up underneath his blankets with a stuffed snake of all things in his arms. Severus left him to sleep, moving on to the kitchen where he stopped short. Because there on the kitchen table lay the adoption papers Severus had given Harry, and on the bottom line in a childish scrawl was added the name “Harry James Potter”.
Severus fell into his chair, buried his face in his hands and cried.
It was there that Harry found him shortly after. He stopped in the kitchen door, when Severus lifted his head from the table, gaze flitting around the kitchen whilst his fingers twisted the hem of his pyjama shirt in his hands. He seemed ready to bolt at the slightest sign of danger.
Severus studied him. “Is this truly what you want?” He spread his fingers over the parchment, not really expecting an answer, but he had to at least ask one more time.
Harry’s eyes flicked to the parchment and back to Severus.
“I’m not good with children, you can ask anyone here at the school,” Severus explained when Harry stayed silent. “And I’m a terrible man.”
Harry’s eyes narrowed. “Who said that?”
He reminded him so much of Lily at that moment that Severus nearly broke down crying again. “Everyone does,” he said hoarsely. “Because it’s true.”
“It’s not.”
Severus let out a weary breath and tried one more time. “Harry, I do not like most people, in fact, I rather loathe people in general. And I’ll very likely say or do something that will hurt you eventually. It’s what I do. I’m not sure I’m capable of…love or such things.” He thought of Lily’s betrayed expression when Severus had called her a Mudblood. At her dead body in his arms. Looked at her child who had been abused by his wretched relatives and who for some reason seemed about ready to explode.
Harry had his smalls hands balled into fists and was trembling slightly.
“Harry?” Severus eyed him carefully. The boy’s eyes were glistening suspiciously again and Severus wasn’t sure he could deal with any more tears this morning.
Harry opened his mouth and closed it again, then bit his lip. The tears spilled over, dripping down the boy’s cheek and Severus very carefully did not sigh or let his head sink to the kitchen table. Did not shout out, “I told you! See! This is what I meant.” Although he really, really wanted to.
He stood from the chair and very decidedly did not comment on the way Harry took a step back, then slid to his knees to make himself as non-threatening and small as possible. Perhaps he should cast some cushioning charms on the entire floor with all the kneeling he did recently.
“Will you come closer?” Severus asked as gently as he could, holding out one hand.
He could see the war waging on Harry’s face. His ingrained instinct was to keep as far away from anyone bigger than him as he could, whilst there was this deep longing and desperate hope that Severus’s offer was genuine.
Severus knew exactly what was going on in the boy’s head. He himself wouldn’t have trusted any man to not hurt him at that age, and would have been suspicious if someone had behaved the way Severus did. But he didn’t know what else to do, how else to prove that he wouldn’t hurt Harry.
He kept his hand steady even when his arm grew weary. Good thing that Severus was a patient man and knew how to deal with stubborn potions.
Harry made an aborted step in his direction, then threw a glance over his shoulder to check whether the exit was still there. Another hesitant step in Severus’s direction, another glance over the shoulder, a look at Severus’s extended hand, another jerk, as if Harry’s body itself was torn in two directions at once.
Severus waited.
In a blur of motion Harry suddenly flung himself at Severus, slamming into his chest and almost toppling them over with the unexpected movement. Severus’s arms wrapped around the boy almost on instinct before his rational thinking caught up to him, reminding him that Harry was wary of touch and a delicate child that could be easily crushed, so that he froze with an armful of little boy before he let out a breath and eased his hold a bit without letting go entirely.
“I want you.” The words were barely audible, muffled against Severus’s shirt, but Severus heard them nonetheless, his heart giving a traitorous jolt at the declaration.
He thought of arguing again. This was madness, no matter what Molly or Albus thought. He’d been a Death Eater, he was bitter and angry and full of spite and shouldn’t be entrusted a child, this child least of all. He knew nothing of children and what if he damaged the poor boy even further? But instead, all he said was, “Then you shall have me.”