Tuesday, Oct 15 1991
This should have been one of the happiest days of Snape's life, but it wasn't. Class after class, he only became angrier and his migraine only became worse. He hated imbibing potions when he had to teach, but with the noise of all the students speculating over the disappearances of the three Gryffindor first years, he was considering it. So far it had been sheer hell for the wizard.
What was worse, when his students weren't concentrating on learning, that's when they wasted ingredients and there were accidents. Only half of the day had passed by and one Slytherin, two Ravenclaws and one Hufflepuff had been sent to the Infirmary with minor burns. The Slytherin wound up with horns, too, and Snape was sure the potion they were supposed to brew couldn't do that. Who knew, though, what a child could turn a potion into when they were more interested in gossip than class?
At lunch time, Snape retreated to the cool interior of his office. He could neither face the Great Hall, nor could he face lunch. His stomach was too sensitive from the pounding of his head. He would have Summoned a Migraine Relief Potion, but for the moment, his desk seemed much more inviting and so he crossed his arms in front of himself on the desk, laid his forehead against his arms, and closed his eyes.
Snape did not hear the soft rustle of student robes, nor was he aware that anyone but himself was in his office. At least, not until an earthenware bottle was pushed against his hand.
Daring to raise his pounding head, he faced the concerned expression of Harry. He glowered since that was the only expression his face could handle. Draping his fingers over the plain shaped bottle, he uncorked it with his thumb. Scooting it to his head, which was still very close to his desk's surface, he sniffed the potion and recognised the acrid odour of a Migraine Relief Potion that he'd brewed. He swallowed a measure of the potion and was pleased by the warmth that blossomed outward, soothing away the pain in his head, and the tightness of muscles in his shoulders.
"You haven't had my class yet, today, Mr. Potter. How did you know about this headache?" asked Snape as he flexed the muscles in his shoulders to encourage them to release the last of their tension. He had not lifted his head, yet.
"I just came in to see you, sir, and you had your head on the desk. Harry shrugged as he curled his fists into his sides. "I just guessed, but I figured you'd check the potion first like I've always seen you do, sir."
Snape smirked. The boy was getting to know him rather well. "Thank you, Mr. Potter."
"Better, sir?" asked Harry with a shy smile.
Snape noted that he could only see Harry's face from the nose up against the edge of the desk. He almost blurted, 'You're too small!' However, he caught his tongue from saying the damaging words and merely nodded carefully lifting his head and making certain it wouldn't spin off by itself.
"I thought you'd be visiting your friend right now," Snape used a quiet voice as he was reluctant to disturb the delicate equilibrium of his brain.
"I was hoping you might come with me. Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy are already there and Draco's gone to meet them," Harry explained. "D'you want to eat lunch with them?"
Feeling at least 90% better than he had been. Snape rose from his desk and ran his fingers half-heartedly through his hair. It had suffered from all the noxious fumes his students had managed, and so it wasn't looking its best. He decided he didn't really care. Walking round his desk to Harry, Snape put out his hand, and Harry smiled brightly as he slipped his hand into his teacher's. As they walked out together, Harry's mind cheered happily. This was going to be the best day ever!
Harry and Snape reached the Infirmary and although he only saw the Hufflepuff student he'd sent from the last class being treated for burns, the place seemed oddly crowded. At Hermione's bed.
Lucius and Narcissa were seated on the right side, and Draco was at the foot of the bed. On the left side of the bed was an odd looking young woman, sporting dark purple hair, which Snape knew matched equally striking purple eyes.
"Nymphadora! What are you doing here?" demanded Snape with a slight scowl.
The girl spun... and spun herself right out of her chair. With a giggle, as her hair turned neon pink, she picked herself up and smiled at Snape.
"Wotcher, Professor!" she greeted.
Snape felt Harry step a bit closer to him.
"Speak the King's English!" snapped Snape to the young woman.
"Aww, you're still as charmingly stiff upper lippy as you always were, Professor." She grinned cheekily and then turned her gaze to the small boy that had what appeared to be a death grip on the Head of Slytherin's hand. "You're a sweet fellow. "I'm Tonks. Who are you?"
Harry slipped behind the drapes of Snape's robes, and peered out between his teacher's arm and his body at the odd girl. Snape put a hand between Harry's shoulder blades and nudged him gently in front of him.
"Nymphadora Tonks, this is Harry Potter," Snape introduced.
"Wotcher, Harry!" her purple hair faded into bright pink and Harry pushed back worriedly against Snape.
"Sit down, Dora," Narcissa ordered quietly. "You're a bit much for some people to take all at once."
Suddenly demure, and quiet, Tonks seated herself back in the chair, then shrugged apologetically. "Sorry, Aunt Cissy."
"May I ask what is going on?" asked Snape as he Summoned two chairs for himself and Harry. They seated themselves close to Draco.
Lucius replied, "Hermione is Dora's first field assignment for Auror Training, Severus. She's come to take Hermione's statement and we are here for moral support."
"Tonks," ground out the young Auror. "I asked you to call me Tonks."
Lucius' eyes narrowed at the young woman. "I shall call you Dora or Nymphadora, young lady. If you wish your friends to address you by your last name, then that is your prerogative. However, with family, you will just have to endure your name."
Tonks huffed, but mostly to herself. Narcissa eyed the young woman and straightened her spine. Tonks, seeing the gesture, sat up a bit straighter and received a smile from Lucius' wife. "Your name is one you'll treasure someday, Nymphadora," said Narcissa quietly coercive.
Tonks then slumped, her arms against her chest. "Nymphadora's too long and I don't like Dora!"
Snape ordered caustically, "Stop behaving like a child, Nymphadora! If you are here in the capacity of your job, then sit up and act like it."
Tonks glared at Snape, but she did end the slouching and took out her wand as she pointed it at Hermione. "Sorry for that, Hermione. I just need to finish doing a Diagnostic Spell and then we'll be done."
Hermione had been silent through the whole, odd exchange and just simply nodded. The spell was cast and they all watched as runes appeared above Hermione. When they faded, Tonks held a parchment transcript of the spell's results. She gave it a quick glance then rolled it up and tucked into an inner pocket of her long, leather duster.
"You were perfect, Hermione!" Tonks patted the girl's hand that rested on her blanket. "Thanks so much for putting up with me."
"Sure, Tonks. I'm glad I could do something helpful." Her glance drifted to Narcissa who smiled approvingly at her.
Tonks stood and then went over to Lucius and Narcissa. She kissed their cheeks. "Thanks, Uncle Luc, thanks, Aunt Cissy. I really needed this." She patted her hidden pocket and then stepped past Draco and ruffled his hair.
"Hey!" he groused and she bent and kissed his cheek.
"Be good, cousin!" Tonks smirked as Draco glared at her.
The young lady then stepped past Harry and gave him a little wave. She stopped in front of Snape who did his best not to look at her. She bent to kiss the end of his nose and intended to dash gracefully aside and out the infirmary, but she tripped, spectacularly, across Snape's lap, and to the floor.
"Merlin's teeth!" Snape cursed as he stood and helped Tonks to her feet by almost dislocating her arm from her shoulder. "You're a bloody hazard, Nymphadora!" he hissed.
Tonks only smiled charmingly at him as her hair faded to a lovely blue-black colour. "But, you love me anyway, Professor!" Now she was able to dash away and she made it out of the Infirmary without any further incident.
He glared at Lucius. "Your niece is a menace to polite society," he declared.
Lucius chuckled softly, "But Dora means well, Severus."
Snape scowled and sat back down. "What was this all about, Lucius. Did you decide to call the Aurors after all?"
"Not quite," he replied seriously. "The Grangers... " he hesitated as if annoyed. He then amended, "I have requested an official report on the incident. Since we're not, yet, prepared to involve the Aurors in this, I contacted Alastor Moody and he suggested having Dora take down Hermione's testimony and mine of the meeting in the Headmaster's office as a way to give her a bit of field experience." Lucius then smirked wickedly, "Her annoying you was just a bonus!"
Snape glowered. "You know what they say when a gentleman is rude to a lady, don't you Severus?" teased Narcissa.
Snape glared at the presumptuous woman. "He dislikes her futile attempts at flirting," he stated flatly. "Aren't we here for lunch?" he demanded.
Harry, one of three children not quite understanding the adult conversation, piped up, "I'm hungry!"
"Me too," agreed Draco.
They were just finishing lunch and preparing to wrap up their visit so Hermione could get some rest when an unwelcome visitor arrived.
"Ah, Severus! There you are!" the Headmaster had paused a moment at the arched doorway of the Infirmary. He then glided in, nodding politely to Narcissa and Lucius. He then gave his attention to Hermione. "And how are you doing today, Miss Granger?"
"Okay," she said without a smile. Snape smirked in approval. The girl had been aware that she had not been worth a visit by the Headmaster when first she was injured.
Hermione's inquiries to Madame Pomfrey had been hardly subtle, but it had spoken volumes to Snape when he had learned what Miss Granger had been asking; the girl had wanted to know if the Headmaster was as concerned for her as her friends and teachers had been. Even Minerva, who knew that her career at Hogwarts hinged on this incident, had come to visit Hermione, once. Hermione had appreciated the visit, but understandably, she did not wish to be burdened by the woman whose regrets had come too late. But for this day, the Headmaster had not once visited. Not even when Hermione was unconscious, or then asleep.
Dumbledore ignored the soft rebuff, glanced towards Harry, and then settled his gaze on Snape. "I've been looking for you, my boy. Might we meet after your last class?"
Snape nodded. "Will six o'clock suit you, sir?"
Dumbledore smiled pleasantly, "I'll have tea ready, Severus."
As the Headmaster left the Infirmary, Snape pursed his lips. Lucius observed, "Dumbledore appears to be a man preparing to interfere."
Snape nodded, but remained quiet. Harry looked worriedly to his teacher, "Is something wrong, sir?"
"You have nothing to worry about, Harry," assured Snape. He gave the boy one of his crooked smiles, one that lifted just a small corner of his mouth.
Lucius had risen and he whispered in Snape's ear. "You said the Cruor mea cruor is ready, Severus?" Snape nodded, almost imperceptibly. "Then we should perform the adoption now."
Snape ushered Harry, Draco, and Narcissa into his private lab where he had the Cruor mea cruor potion waiting under a stasis spell. Lucius, holding Hermione in his arms, came through the private lab's Floo several minutes later. Snape quickly sealed the Floo against all other visitors. He then strengthened the wards around the lab. It would be disastrous should the Headmaster make an unscheduled visit.
Lucius settled Hermione upon a lounge that he conjured that would allow her to keep her injured leg straight and she could sit upright comfortably. Narcissa conjured a soft, thick afghan of mohair and draped it over Hermione's lap, knees, and feet. She then seated herself beside the girl on the lounge.
Lucius and Severus were going over the parchment that had a copy of the ritual. Lucius was shaking his head, "We really can't afford to cut any of this, Severus. We can't risk any disruptions in the magic, or Dumbledore might find a way to exploit them."
Snape's lips thinned. "My class of third years are not going to allow me to ignore my lateness." He then grinned tightly. "But what does it matter when I am gaining a son?"
Lucius smiled back. "That's what I wanted to hear, my friend. Get yourself and Harry ready while I mark the circle."
Snape glanced up as he walked away from the work table where the potion was waiting. "Harry? Come with me, son!"
Harry looked up and at his soon-to-be-father's words, he trotted away from Draco's side and to Snape. "Yes, sir?" Harry looked up expectantly.
Snape placed a hand gently upon Harry's right shoulder. "I was hoping this would not be hurried..." he paused. "There is a point in the ceremony called the Words of Commitment. You'll need to think of something to say."
"We have to say something?" Harry asked worriedly. He didn't think he'd be able to make up something on such short notice.
Snape gave the boy one of his rare, full smiles. He touched Harry's chest. "Just speak from your heart and you will be fine."
Harry drew in a shuddery breath. "Okay." He glanced over towards Lucius who was using his wand to inscribe something upon the stone floor. Harry suddenly caught his teacher's sleeve and whispered, "Is this gonna hurt?"
"Seven drops of your blood is needed for the potion," Snape explained. "To get those drops, they will come from your palm. A ceremonial knife is used. It will sting, but only for a moment. The same will be done to me." Snape watched with concern as the small boy paled, but only for a moment. Drawing in a deep breath, he squared his shoulders and smiled up at his teacher. "Ready?" Snape asked, pleased at the boy's show of bravery.
"Yes, sir," Harry nodded.
Snape led Harry over to the circle that Lucius had inscribed upon the stone floor. He was now working on inscribing runes on the inside of the circle, where symbols for the four elements were on the outside of the circle, equidistant from each other.
"What do those mean?" asked Harry.
Lucius was unable to answer, so Draco replied, "Those four symbols are the four elements - earth, fire, air, and water. Father's inscribing the runes, but they may mean something specific to the ritual."
Lucius finished the last rune and straightened. He smiled at his son. Pointing with his wand, he went through each rune, explaining its meaning as it related to the adoption. "We start with Mannaz." Lucius looked to Snape who moved to stand in front of the rune. "That is father, the creator of hearth and home." Harry smiled at that. Lucius then pointed to a rune to the right of where Snape stood. "This is Othila, the soul of all that is 'home' to family." He then pointed to the left. "Raido is the journey a family takes. Its up and downs, yet together they always shall be."
Harry interrupted as he noticed there was an odd break in the circular pattern. "Isn't there supposed to be a rune here, Mr. Malfoy?"
"I don't need to inscribe that one, Harry. You wear it," Lucius replied as though everyone knew what he meant. He glanced around at all the puzzled expressions, but noted those of Snape's and Harry's most. He motioned Harry over to him. Harry stepped towards the tall wizard and Lucius brushed aside his fringe that normally hid the lightning bolt scar. As he brought his finger close to trace it, Harry flinched slightly. Lucius withdrew his hand, and then glanced over to Snape. "Do you really not know this, Severus?"
Snape crossed his arms over his chest. "You appear to be in possession of knowledge we have not, Lucius. Explain, please." He scowled, showing that he'd tolerate his friend's delay only for so long if it didn't make sense.
Lucius looked down at Harry and raised his hand again so the boy could see it. "If I may, Harry?" The child glanced warily at Lucius' hand, but nodded his acquiescence. Lucius very gently moved his index finger closer and then very lightly traced the scar. "This is Sowelu, the sun. It also symbolises the Mother Protector, her love." Lucius moved his hand away from Harry. He kept his silvery gaze upon the boy. "It's been rumoured that your mother was able to keep you alive, and safe from the Dark Lord's powers through her deep and abiding love for you. I have no doubt that it was Lily's magic that left this symbol upon your forehead."
Harry raised his fingers and touched his scar with new curiosity, but a lingering sense of puzzlement. "But, it hurts sometimes," he said softly.
"It bled in Quirrell's class," piped up Draco.
"Harry always touches it when it gives him headaches," added Hermione.
Harry coloured at the reminders of what he viewed as weaknesses.
Lucius nodded sagely. "I would expect it to hurt when you are near magic or someone that intends you harm. It is a warning."
"So, it's not evil?" Harry asked hopefully.
"They say I'm still evil, even though I love my family, and do what I can to restore the honor of my family. Harry, has your scar ever hurt when I am near? Or Severus?"
Harry glanced sharply over his shoulder at the Dark Man. He shook his head strongly. "No! It's never hurt and I know you're both good!"
Lucius nudged Harry to stand across from Snape within the circle. "Sowelu," he said softly. "To your right is Othila, but as you see it is reversed. It reflects your desire, Harry, to have a home and family. To your left is Gebo, the rune of joining, of child to parent, of magic to magic." Lucius then left Harry's side and stepped to the center of the circle where the potion, held in a large, silver goblet, hovered in the air.
Snape, who had been staring, worriedly, at Harry's scar, interrupted, "Lucius, is this wise? That is a curse scar."
Lucius glared exasperatedly, "Obviously your lessons in Ancient Runes didn't take very well, my friend," he countered acerbically. Harry's hand went subconsciously to his scar, touching it delicately.
"This could invalidate the ritual!" Snape fumed.
"Severus!" Lucius shouted and then lowered the timbre of his voice. "My friend, if ever you've trusted in me, then I ask you to do so now." He turned slightly, and pointed an elegant finger at Harry. "That is no curse scar. It is the Mark of a Mother's Love." He returned to Harry's side and smiled down at him. "Will you trust me, Harry?"
Again Harry touched the scar. He thought about all the times when he had stared at it in a shard of mirror he'd kept with all his other treasures in his cupboard at Privet Drive. The scar had long been an annoying reminder of the 'car accident' his relatives told him that his parents were killed in. Later, it was a reminder of their truly horrible deaths at the hands of Voldemort. Despite all of that Harry had never hated the scar. He'd never had bad feelings for it.
Harry then nodded hopefully. He didn't want his scar to be a curse and if it was accepted during the adoption ritual, then that would mean it wasn't. "Yes," he echoed softly.
"Good boy. Are you ready, Draco?" asked Lucius.
"I am father," he replied solemnly.
Harry glanced at Draco, curious as to what he was going to be doing. Lucius began to speak before he could ask, so he remained silent.
Lucius held up what appeared to Harry to be a short dagger. The knife was an athame, used in many of the blood magic rituals that had been banned by the Ministry. It was an antique, an heirloom that had been in the Prince family for several centuries. When Snape first decided on using the Cruor mea cruor for the adoption of Harry, he had made a quick trip to Gringotts to find the athame.
Summoning the goblet to follow him, Lucius went over to Snape. He then held the athame over the man's right palm and spoke, "I ask for the blessings of Earth." Draco was near the symbol of earth and he sprinkled what could only be dirt on the symbol. "I ask for the blessings of air." Draco had already moved to the symbol of air and he quickly knelt down and blew gently across it. "I ask for the blessings of water." Draco had risen and had to trot over to the third symbol for water. Holding out a small pitcher he allowed a few drops of water to fall upon the symbol. "I ask for the blessings of fire." Narcissa took care of the last symbol by casting a very controlled 'Incendio' that allowed a tiny flame to fall upon the symbol.
With the last element 'awakened', pale threads of blue, white, gold, and brown drifted up from the symbols weaving themselves over the circle and its inhabitants. Harry and Hermione both let out soft whispers of awe. As Harry was so distracted by the magic overhead, he did not see Lucius use the athame to wound Snape's palm so that he could collect seven drops of blood. Before he knew it, Lucius was in front of him, taking his right hand in his. Harry gulped and tried his best not to yank his hand from the older wizard.
Lucius was slightly bent over Harry and gave him an encouraging smile. He then called for the blessings of the elements, again, and Draco and Narcissa awakened the elements a second time. New threads joined, weaving themselves together and then weaving with the old ones.
"Ouch!" Harry cried out. He'd been distracted again and Lucius had used that distraction to make the cut on Harry's small palm with the athame. The child's reflexes tried to yank his hand back, but Lucius held the hand firmly.
"Shhh, Harry. It only stings for a bit," assured Lucius. "Can you breathe for me?"
Harry's green eyes locked upon the silvery-grey ones, and he nodded his head tightly. He began to breathe, as evenly as he could, never noticing that Lucius had collected his blood.
"Very good, Harry," Lucius said softly. "Now, close your hand, and walk to the centre."
Harry did so and was followed by Lucius who met both Harry and Snape at the circle's centre. Lucius then held the goblet up high above his head towards the nexus where all the threads of the elements were.
"I call upon the elements, the old magic, to bless these two souls and to bring them together in family," intoned Lucius. The threads moved sinuously down and into the goblet causing the potion to exude a fragrant, colourful vapor.
Snape reached out his right hand and quickly took Harry's right hand in his. Harry let out a gasp as he felt a surge of what he thought must be magic radiating outward from the cuts made to his and the Dark Man's palms. It was icy at first, but then warmed and made him feel a bit giddy. He smiled up at Snape. Harry figured that his teacher must be feeling the same thing because his smile was warm, sparkly, and a bit silly. He saw it for a few brief seconds, though. The smile faded, but remained in Snape's dark eyes.
All were startled, though, as a vaporous mist appeared between Harry and Snape. A second mist, not as strong as the first, appeared on either side of Harry and between them. Vague faces formed in the mist just as two very indistinct hands hovered over Snape and Harry's clasped hands.
"Mum? Dad?" Harry whispered in shock. Instinctively, his hand holding Snape's tightened.
Snape said nothing although at the sight of Lily his heart had skipped a few beats before leaping up into his throat.
Lucius hovered the potion that was still absorbing the threads of the elements. He quickly touched each of their shoulders and spoke softly. "It's all right. I read that this sometimes happens."
Snape shot the aristocrat a quick scowl for not having mentioned this possibility. Lucius smirked smugly confirming for the Potions Master that he had been aware of this likelihood. Harry was still mesmerised by the ghostly presences of Lily and James.
When the threads of the elements were absorbed by the potion, Lucius brought it down between the two wizards, and spoke softly, "Severus, drink this and accept Harry Potter as your son, by right of the old magic, the elements, your love..." he glanced at Lily and James who both smiled and nodded. "...and with the blessings of Lily and James."
Snape took the goblet with his left hand, gave a simple nod of thanks to the ghosts, then raised it to his lips. He then drank a full measure, and still holding the cup he looked into Harry's eyes and said, "Harry, today I make you my son. I promise to always love you, to keep you safe, to comfort you when you wish it. In honour of your mother, and also of your father, I make this pledge to you, my child."
Harry saw a glistening tell in Snape's eyes that made his own eyes feel rather watery. He almost missed Lucius addressing him. "Harry, drink this and accept Severus Tobias Snape as your father, by right of the old magic, the elements, your love, and with the blessings of your parents, James and Lily."
Lucius handed Harry the goblet and steadied it to make sure the boy had a good hold of it. Harry then raised the goblet to his lips and drank. He smelled the fragrant aroma of sage, and vetiver, and oak. The potion tasted like... home. When he finished a swallow, he had to blink a few times before he raised his eyes to the Dark Man's welcoming gaze. "I..." he faltered, and blinked again, feeling an insistent joy prickling against his eyelids. Whispering, almost shyly, he began again, "Dad..." he then glanced shyly at James who gave him an encouraging nod. Harry smiled and then looked up at his new father. "Dad, thank you for coming for me and taking me away from the Dursleys. Thank you for caring for me and making my nightmares less scary." He then glanced quickly at the shades of his parents. "Mum, dad, I promise to be the best son ever to... to my new dad and to make you proud so you don't have to worry about me." James grinned and chuckled silently while Lily's smile radiated her love for her son. Feeling giddy, but serious, Harry returned his gaze to Snape. "Dad, I promise that I'll... try to behave, and do my homework, and study, and I'll make a lot of good grades so you can be proud of me." He started to hand the goblet back to Lucius, but remembered he'd forgotten something. "Oh yeah! I pledge this to you, dad, because... uhm... because my parents are happy and you get to be my dad forever, now!"
There was a small bit of laughter and smiles, but the ritual hadn't quite ended. As soon as Harry gave the goblet back to Lucius, a corona of magic burst from Harry and Snape, meshing together, and enveloping them both. As the magic faded, Snape felt euphoric. Harry, being just a child, was overcome with the euphoria, and started to crumple, bonelessly, to the ground. Snape caught him in his arms and knelt with the boy partially on his lap. James leaned over and touched Harry's forehead, before swirling out of existence. Lily remained a bit longer as she knelt by Snape. She, too, touched her son's forehead, but she specifically touched the lightning bolt scar. Her cold hand then very lightly touched Snape's hand. With a smile of her thanks to him, she faded away.
"Wow!" both Draco and Hermione exclaimed.
Several minutes later Harry's senses had stopped twirling and he found himself in his teacher's... no, his father's... private quarters on the sofa next to him. He sat up, stretched and then glanced down at the palm of his hand. There was no scar. He thought he might be disappointed, but he felt a pleasant warmth in his heart instead.
"Dad?" he asked softly. A part of him was still experimenting with that word and enjoying how it made him feel loved.
Snape gave his son a small smile, but to Harry it was a grin. He grinned back. "How do you feel, Harry."
"My heart feels warm," he observed, touching his hand to his chest.
"It will feel that way, probably, for the rest of the day and then it will fade. If you're steady enough on your feet, I need you to get to class so I can go to mine and teach before those ruffians upend everything," chuckled Snape.
Harry pouted. "I wish I didn't have to." He thought of his parents. Deep down he had worried for a bit as to whether or not they would mind if he got adopted, so it had eased his mind greatly to know that they had been there to approve of it. That made him feel warm inside, too.
Snape plucked his son up from the couch and gave him a nudge between the shoulder blades. "You may come for a visit after dinner. Now, go! I do not want you to wind up with a zero for today!"
"Yes, Dad!" Harry grinned again as his heart bloomed once more with warmth. Seeing his bookbag by the door he caught it up in his hand, swung it onto his shoulder, and was soon running down the corridor with a pleased laugh on his way to Charms.
Snape was pleased, as well. He had hoped that he was doing the right thing by Harry, but he had to admit to himself that he was afraid that Lily, and very likely James, would disagree with Harry having him as a father. Not only had their presence been approval, but they had blessed the adoption as well. There would be no way on earth to refute or break it.
As he grabbed his teaching robes, he smiled smugly. Harry's scar was not a curse scar!
Harry was twenty minutes late to Charms and with no excuse because his father... my father!... had forgotten to give him a permission slip excusing the tardiness. So, he lost twenty points, but Harry didn't care. He had a father... my father!... now!
Snape arrived for his meeting with the Headmaster precisely at 6pm, just before dinner. As he walked through the quietly swinging open door, several dozen timepieces chimed or bonged or dinged or even ticked all around the office. Dumbledore's head was bent over a parchment, but as Snape faced the man's desk, he looked up with a smile. Snape certainly did not return it. In fact, his visage managed to become more granite-like; unmovable and expressionless.
"My boy, please sit down." The Headmaster was a bit non-plussed as his Potions instructor did not move an inch, other than to cross his arms over his chest and to deepen his dark gazed glower. Dumbledore watched the younger wizard for a moment, then sighed, and decided he wasn't going to put up with Severus' histrionics today. "Whatever you wish, then. I'd like to speak to you about Mr. Potter," he began.
"Yes, that is just who I'd like to speak of, Headmaster. Did you know?" Snape bit out.
Dumbledore felt his world tip a bit sideways. He was certain he'd had the upper hand here. "Know what?" he asked, genuinely puzzled.
Angrily Snape removed a phial that ended in a conical tip from his inner pocket. He slapped it down upon the Headmaster's desk. His glare became a razor edged scowl, accusing the man in front of him as if Dumbledore ought to know what was in the phial.
Dumbledore reached for the phial so he could better see the clear, cerulean blue liquid within. "I honestly don't know what this is, Severus. You know my Potions acumen is nowhere within your purview."
"Familia Testimonium," stated Snape dryly. "It is the potion most common in use at the Wizarding Childrens Services department of the Ministry. It is used to test the biological validity between parent and child. It becomes cerulean blue if there is a match." He then removed another phial, this one was corkscrew in shape and held within it a perfectly golden liquid that appeared heavy. As Dumbledore picked it up, it was heavier than the first. "Cruor Argumentum. This potion compares the DNA and Magical Cores of parent and child. If it becomes gold, it denotes an undeniable match of parent to child."
Dumbledore nearly felt roasted under the hard look he was getting from the Potions Master. He wanted to look up the two potions, but he didn't dare so in front of the younger man. He knew Snape would perceive it as an insult, and in the young wizard's mood, he might actually try to strike out at the Headmaster with a Killing Curse.
"Severus, I don't know what this is about so why don't you explain it to me," the Headmaster said in that cajoling, calm tone of his that worked with children and Order of the Phoenix members, and probably a few on the Wizengamot.
Inwardly, Snape smirked with triumph. This meeting was now in his hands, and whatever the Headmaster had meant to tell him was about to take a flaming leap out of the turret window. Outwardly, Snape affected an air of supreme worry with a touch of elation.
"I have learned that Harry Potter is my son," he stated dryly, and directly. "My biological son," Snape clarified.
Dumbledore felt a cold frisson of bony fingers dancing up his spine as he looked down upon the two potions. He didn't look up as he asked, "How did you learn this, Severus?"
Snape leaned over and picked up the potion in the conical phial that was cerulean blue. "Familia Testimonium is new on my curriculum for the first years. The ingredients are simple, common, and inexpensive ones that require a moderate effort at preparation. Brewing is just a bit more complicated but still within the ability of a first year to brew successfully." He sneered slightly, "True to the students penchants for stupidity, with the last ingredient, which is saliva, several chose to be idiotic dunderheads and spat into their still boiling cauldrons. Some of them nearly singed their eyebrows off when they could have saved themselves a bit of pain by using the cotton swabs they'd been given!" He glowered over that remembrance.
Dumbledore eyed his Potions instructor warily. By the man's body language and tone, he did not detect any untruths in his narrative. He nodded in sympathy. "And how did your saliva become compared with Mr. Potter's, Severus?"
Snape waved his hand, as if to say Dumbledore ought to know this already. "A comparison was required to finish the potion so I used mine with everyones potion." He sighed, but his expression was hard. "Merlin forbid if the results came up and two of my students discovered they were related!" With dramatic effect, Snape suddenly slapped his hand down upon the Headmaster's desk, causing one of the phials to head towards the edge of the desk. "Merlin's crooked teeth, Albus! How was I to know that instead of turning putrid yellow the damn potion would turn cerulean blue!"
Dumbledore caught the corkscrew phial and replaced it on his desk. He kept his hand upon it. "Then this potion was to verify the first?" he asked.
Snape nodded miserably.
"You have told him, Severus," Dumbledore stated instead of asking.
"Harry had the right to know, and I have the right to claim my son," Snape replied tautly.
Dumbledore's mind was a-whirl as he felt the tug of his plans being yanked from beneath him. He drew in a deep breath, adapting as he must. "I must ask, my boy, how did this happen? Lily was married to James."
Before speaking, Snape silently asked Lily for her forgiveness in regards to the elaborate lie he would tell. Snape's eyes dropped to the floor and his spine stiffened as his cheeks blushed a dusty pink. He began to explain, "It was at the last gathering her parents ever had. A barbeque. I think if it had not been meant as a surprise birthday party for their daughter and anyone else but Lea Evans had been in charge of the guest list, I would not have been invited." Snape shifted as though he were uncomfortable under the Headmaster's steady stare. "I really had no intention of going, but before I realised it, I was walking through the old park behind Spinner's End and to the Evans' house."
To get away from Dumbledore's unending, accusing look, Snape began to pace. "I was welcomed by Lily's parents. I always was," his tone was haunted as he recalled the last time he'd seen the Evanses; just before his fifth year. Lily's parents were murdered by Death Eaters almost a month before Harry's birth. "There is really little to say about the party itself since the Marauders were there and once they knew I was there, it was as though we were back at Hogwarts. Only, we could not use our magic so all I had to put up with were their insults." He paused in his pacing and stared at the flames.
"Lily never did care for their teasing of you," Dumbledore spoke gently. Snape grunted, yet inwardly he was a little caught off guard by the Headmaster effortlessly embellishing his story.
"No," he said flatly, "she did not. It may have been the reason..." Snape purposely faltered in his recitation. "We had not spoken once to each other since our fifth year... I do not... before I knew it Lily and I were in her childhood bedroom." His pacing resumed and his footsteps were clipped and reflected his sudden anger and embarrassment. "It was reckless and the second it was over, we both regretted what had been done. Lily was weeping and I... I could only run away."
"Something you do well," Dumbledore remarked, a hint of admonishment in his voice.
Snape glared darkly, insulted, but he kept his indignation to himself. He was tarnishing Lily's reputation, and her marriage, the least he could do was show himself as a coward.
The Headmaster's thin fingers drummed upon the surface of his desktop for a moment. "Now I understand why Lily demanded that you protect her son," he said softly. "She wasn't asking you as an old friend, but as the boy's father. She never told you?" Snape merely shook his head and took the chair across from the Headmaster's desk. Upon his face was a look that was a mixture of self-loathing, recrimination and regret. "This explains how Harry was Sorted into your House, too."
"Perhaps," Snape agreed grudgingly.
Dumbledore then asked something that shocked the Potions Master, "Do you wish to be the boy's father?"
Snape sat up, stiffly, his eyes now doing the glowering while his mouth sneered. "Did I say I did not want the boy? He is my son, Headmaster. Whether I want him or not, I have a responsibility to him. It is no longer enough that I keep to the Vow I made to Lily, I am his father and I will be his father."
Dumbledore's tongue actually clucked sadly. "This complicates everything, my boy."
Snape merely stared incredulously at the Headmaster and he did not need to feign that emotion. "As you requested at the beginning of this term, you wanted me to watch over and protect the boy. Your words, if you remember, Headmaster. The fact that Harry was Sorted into my House has made what could have been a complicated job much easier. So I fail to see what this new development complicates?"
The Headmaster sighed knowingly, leaving Snape to puzzle out this problem. It was one of the things that irritated him about the older wizard. "Has this to do with why you wanted to return him to the Dursleys?"
Dumbledore lifted his head from the book. "I would still prefer to send him back there, but as you are..."
Snape interrupted sharply, "No! That makes no sense that you would send Harry, no... any child back into a situation where they are beaten, starved, and verbally abused on a daily basis. Make me understand this, Albus!" he demanded.
The Headmaster put the book back on the shelf and then turned to his obviously distraught Potions instructor. Snape would be pleased to know that Dumbledore read that emotion in his posture and gaze when in reality he was angered, feeling homicidal, yet he was a bit curious.
"Sit down, my boy," ordered Dumbledore gently. Instead of retreating to his desk chair, he stood in front of the younger man, whom he was now able to look down upon. "I should have seen this coming, this bond between the two of you. Although I understand its origins, I do believe that you came to care for Harry long before learning he was your son." The old man sighed, and for a moment he looked over the younger man's shoulder into a past they had once shared in this office; when a frightened young man begged to be released from the shackles of Voldemort.
"Had I known just what you would find at the Dursleys, I would have sent someone else," he mused quietly.
Snape's lips thinned, wondering if he was going to get any sort of explanation, or more riddles.
For a moment the Headmaster turned away from Snape and Summoned a scroll tucked between several piles of paper and books not properly shelved. He unsealed it and handed it to Snape. "Look at the very first entry, my boy."
Snape's eyes scanned the heading of the scroll first and read silently, 'Accidental Magic - Harry James Potter.' His eyes then moved down to the very first incidence of magic, common Accidental Magic.
Age: 3 years, 9 months
The next three were various times during his fourth year. None of them explained why the magic occurred, or what had happened with the magical burst.
Dumbledore's index finger intruded, pointing to a more significant incident.
Age: 6 years, 2 months, Apparition
"He Apparated?" Snape let out a hiss of incredulity.
"Remarkable, isn't it?" agreed the Headmaster, his eyes twinkling madly. "Now, this one," Dumbledore pointed to another incident.
Age: 10 years, 11 months, spontaneous Vanishing Charm
Dumbledore took the scroll and rolled it back up. "It was my intention to keep any untoward attention possible away from Harry, but at the age of six years old, the Ministry became aware of Harry but the Blood Wards made it impossible for them to detect his presence at #4 Privet Drive, though, nor were they certain of the child's identity."
The Headmaster replaced the scroll from where he had Summoned it and smiled, "The development of Harry's magic has been remarkable! Madame Pomfrey tells me that it is quite likely that he also used his magic to heal many of his injuries."
Snape did not share the same... exuberance... that the Headmaster was expressing. It bothered him that in some way Dumbledore had been monitoring Harry's magic, yet the older wizard had never gone to see what precipitated those bursts of magic.
And healing himself? Such survival magic normally knocked out a full grown witch or wizard! No wonder the child was small. If Petunia had not fed him enough to make up for the amount of magic Harry used to heal himself, it was surprising that the boy had not expired!
Snape felt the anger at the Dursleys dangerously boiling within him. He had to calm it. After several seconds he was able to return his attention to the Headmaster.
"Headmaster, certainly this is startling, but you know the development of a child's magic is not that unusual under the circumstances," Snape commented. "With the establishment of the Wizarding Childrens Services in the twenties, more of this sort of thing is being seen."
Which was true. Studies were beginning to show that an abused child often went into a survival mode that honed their magic to help them cope with the abuse. Snape had first hand experience with this as his own father had beat him on a regular basis. He did have his mother to help heal him, but his magic had allowed him to hone his senses and his reflexes which enabled him, later, to evade many of the hexes and jinxes the Marauders plagued him with. Much later, he would use these skills as a spy. To Snape, the unfortunate aspect in this development, was that the child never struck back at their abusers with their magic; no matter how bad it became.
Suddenly, with unwelcome clarity, Snape understood. "You knew!" he hissed. "You knew about the abuse!"
The Potions Master recoiled as the Headmaster put a hand upon his shoulder. The hand was not dislodged. "I did not want to say anything to you because I knew you would react this way, Severus." Dumbledore's thin fingers gripped his shoulder tightly. "I knew that the Dursleys had no love for their nephew, my boy, but Arabella..."
Snape jerked very sharply and dislodged the offending hand but could not leave the chair he was in since Dumbledore stood in front of him. "And that is supposed to excuse what they did to him for eleven years?"
"Severus," the older wizard said soothingly.
"Bones, Albus! They broke bones!" Snape's shouting made the older man move a few steps away from the younger man. "He has scars on his back! He was starved! His eyesight is permanently damaged because of their bloody loving touches! No love? The Dursleys despised my son and you allowed it to continue so his magic would develop?" Snape had pushed up from the chair knocking it backwards. In a rage, Snape spun sharply, and with his wand already in hand he blasted it to sawdust.
"Calm yourself, Severus!" The Headmaster's voice was firm, but infinitely gentle. Snape felt immediately, and inexplicably, afraid but he still retained enough sense to not show it. He took a deep breath, and leveled his darkest scowl upon the powerful wizard.
Dumbledore used his wand to Summon a new chair that he bade Snape to sit in. "Lily was Petunia's sister, my boy," Dumbledore continued on smoothly. "I saw no reason that she wouldn't at least treat the boy civilly. When I learned of their dislike for their nephew, I was not told of any abuse."
Snape recalled how Mrs. Figg had insisted that she never saw any bruises, abrasions, or any injuries upon his son. He had suspected that a Glamour hid the injuries, but now he was certain of it. "His magic hid the injuries," Snape breathed tautly.
To Snape's disgust, the Headmaster smiled, allowing a small twinkle of commiseration to appear in his eyes. "Ah! So you do see, my boy, don't you? Glamours are taught in seventh year, but to master them to hide such injuries so well, takes years! Harry is a very powerful wizard, Severus, you will..."
Snape interrupted, nearly hissing out, "Harry is a little boy!"
The twinkle in the Headmaster's baby blues went out like a candle snuffed out. "Voldemort will test him."
"Voldemort is dead," the Potions Master stated flatly. He resisted, with all of his will in keeping his right hand where it was and away from his hidden Dark Mark.
"Severus, please do not be so stubbornly foolish in regards to that falsehood. You were with me when we went to Godric's Hollow to search for remains. We used the most sophisticated of spells possible and there was no sign of anything! Not like there was of Lil..."
"Stop!" Snape pleaded tiredly. Of course he recalled that horrid day. The Headmaster had taken him to Godric's Hollow. It sickened him to see the ruins of the Potter house, to imagine the terror and screams, Lily's begging for the life of her child, embedded within the ruinous walls. He and the Headmaster had used old magic to seek out the remains of Voldemort and both had been subjected to memory ghosts of what had happened. It had nearly broken him, again.
They had found nothing. Not even a whisper, and this, both powerful wizards knew did not bode well.
Who would believe either of them, though? The wizarding world was far too ecstatic in the knowledge that an ugly stain was gone from their world. Harry Potter was a hero, and there were many that resented Dumbledore for having taken the boy away so he could not be paraded before his adoring audience.
As each year passed, peaceful and more beautiful than the last, it was Snape, Dumbledore, members of the Order of the Phoenix, and others of the Death Eaters who'd had no wish to be under the Dark Lord's thumb, that worried it was not entirely safe.
For Snape and Lucius, though, a night of pain, nightmares, and terror brought their fears into reality. Their Dark Marks awakened, almost as though angered and the Marks had burned, viciously.
Only for a moment did Snape wonder at his folly for adopting Harry. What right had he to do so? How could he properly care for the child if evil was already so close? He clenched his fists tightly against his worry. He had promised Lily he would protect her son and this was the best way for him to do so.
No. It was the way he wanted to. Only hours had Harry been his son and it felt right, as it should be. The adoption had been blessed by the ghosts of their past. Snape would not allow anything, including a barmy, old Headmaster to jeopardise it.
Dumbledore breached the long silence by saying, "I believe what has happened so far to Harry is no coincidence, my boy. The odd fit in Quirinus' classroom, the accident in the Quidditch game, and the deaths and subsequent desertion of the unicorns."
"What deaths?" Snape asked, claiming ignorance of what he already knew.
"Four unicorns were killed, brutally," replied Dumbledore with infinite sorrow. "Their blood was taken. Hagrid informed me a few weeks ago that the unicorns had left, as have the Thestrals. The Centaurs, who usually keep themselves deep within the forest, are now patrolling the whole of it. Hagrid says that they have told him that 'evil hunts there at night'."
Snape's fingers pinched the bridge of his nose, hard, as he closed his eyes. This meeting was a nightmare he could not escape from.
"And you did not feel this was necessary information to give to your staff that have helped you to guard that damned Stone?" Snape demanded angrily. He didn't give the older wizard a chance to reply as he let anger, at many things he couldn't express, free. "Do you know what this means, Albus? There is someone in this school that wants that Stone and means harm to Harry. Perhaps to all the children!" In mid-rant he had risen to his feet, pacing upon the floor, again.
"Perhaps to you?" Dumbledore added softly, perforating the Potions Master's ire like a balloon hit by a dart.
"What?" demanded Snape as he whirled back to face the Headmaster.
"Is it possible that you worry about yourself, Severus? You refuted Voldemort." Snape sneered as he was certain he detected a touch of smugness in the old man's smile.
"I do not give a bloody damn Merlin to what he thinks of me! If he's even capable of thinking!" He drew his robe tightly about himself. "Merlin's teeth, Albus, does it not bother you at all that someone in this school is trying to bring Harry to harm? Do you think so little of him that you do not care about that? So much so that you would send him back into the arms of relatives that mean to harm him just as much? What is wrong with you?"
Snape was not doing well in keeping his temper down, but the Headmaster was pushing every button he had. He knew, though, that he had pushed a button right back; blasted it, really. Dumbledore's glare was as angered as the revulsion the old man had shown him the first time he had asked for sanctuary and had been refused.
The Potions Master expected to be threatened with Azkaban, and he was prepared to let go of that Ace, if need be. Such a threat was not forthcoming, though.
With chilly calm, the old wizard spoke and Snape felt, once again, compelled by the wizard's voice to step backwards in fear of Dumbledore's magic. "Voldemort IS returning. The Philosopher's Stone is here because it is the best place to trap him and to weaken him further. Harry will see to that, or he will prove to me that he is but a shell of the child he once was."
This dry statement shook the younger man. Aghast, he hissed in final comprehension as to why the Headmaster did not trust the little boy, "You believe Harry to be the Dark Lord!" With Dumbledore's sad nod of his aged head, Snape clamped his mouth tightly shut. He could not sort out what he was feeling. To say anything could open him to a trap he could not easily free himself from, and he had to be there for his son. Allowing the cold, stone-faced visage that many were familiar with drift over him like a Disillusionment Spell, he calmed his heart and tightened his Occlumency shields. In doing so, he felt the ham-fisted tendrils of the Headmaster's mind touching his; something the older wizard had not done in years.
That weak attempt gave Snape a vital bit of information about the old man's magic that he'd never before realised. He could not explore it, yet, for the Headmaster still had something to say.
Dumbledore rose and walked smoothly over to Snape and put a friendly hand upon the man's forearm, just above the hidden Dark Mark. Snape saw the gesture, not as one of affection, but as a reminder of his debt to the Headmaster and to the Light. Snape, did not flinch from the touch, but forced himself to lean, gratefully, into it.
"My boy," the Headmaster almost crooned to him, "I did not wish to say anything this early because I had hoped that I would be wrong about Harry. It is still possible that I am, but we will only know that to be a certainty if Voldemort is elsewhere in this castle and the Stone draws him out."
Snape shook his head. "Harry is not the next Dark Lord, Albus. You're wrong," Snape declared stubbornly.Dumbledore's voice, his mind whispered to him. The wizard's voice was manipulating his emotions, calming him, making him see reason. Using his Occlumency he was able to know the emotion that the Headmaster wanted to see in his body language and hear in his tone. Snape lowered his voice, giving it a touch of lost hope. "He is a sweet, gentle child..."
"He was Sorted into Slytherin," Dumbledore cut across the Potions Master's kind words. The Headmaster held up his hand to forestall another rant from the younger man - this one on his Gryffindor habit of tossing all Slytherins to the wolves. "The House of Voldemort," the Headmaster emphasised. "You see a child unfairly treated, Severus, and you cannot help but rescue him. I do not have that luxury since I knew Voldemort when he was Tom Riddle and a child much the same age as Harry."
Snape listened, despite the desire to strike out verbally. The older wizard's voice was soothing in its sad revelation as it took him back into the past and painted a grim picture for him. Knowing that Dumbledore's persuasive magic was in his voice, Snape was now began to filter out those false emotions from his own. As the narrative unfolded, the clever Potions Master allowed those emotions Dumbledore wanted to see and hear all the while, feeling exuberant that he'd thrown off another shackle.
The Headmaster continued to speak of the young Tom Riddle, the boy lost in a Muggle orphanage and abused by children and adults. His accidental magic had struck out in anger, vengeance, violently. It was that violence that had drawn the younger Dumbledore to the worst side of Muggle London and into a neighborhood that had not seen improvement since the days when a terrifying killer of prostitutes had sent fear through the Muggle population.
Snape was quiet as the older man continued to relate the story of a frightening encounter with a boy who could conjure pain in another with his thoughts alone. The harming of another did not cause the boy remorse or guilt, yet when the Headmaster told him how 'special' he was, odd, maroon coloured eyes had glittered.
"Perhaps, if I had known what I was bringing into our world, I might have acted differently," Dumbledore sighed regretfully, unaware that his Voice was no longer influencing his young Potions instructor's sympathy.
"Why do you compare Harry to Riddle, Headmaster? Neither sound at all alike to me," Snape spoke almost without inflection. He truly was growing tired of this endless meeting and his migraine was returning.
"Oh, their personalities are rather different, my boy, but their powers are not and that is what worries me about Harry." The Headmaster tapped his forehead. "And his scar." Dumbledore Summoned a book from his shelf and handed it over to Snape who scanned the title quickly: Curse Scars: What We Know. "That is just one of hundreds of books I have read over the years about curse scars, and that, like the others, have simply told me that curse scars are unpredictable."
"So it is Harry's scar that makes you think he could be the next Dark Lord?" asked Snape as he dropped the book onto Albus' desk with a slight thump.
"It was made when Voldemort tried to kill the boy, Severus, and Harry survived!" Dumbledore glared at nothing in frustration. "However, no one, no book, no essay, nothing can tell me why." His gaze settled upon Snape and the younger man felt distinctly what his eventual betrayal of the man before him would do to him. "Which is why I need you to watch the boy, Severus. If he is... what I am afraid he is... " the Headmaster's voice faded.
"What do you wish of me, Headmaster?" he asked in perfectly feigned irritated resignation.
Dumbledore smiled sublimely as he stretched out a hand to touch the younger man's shoulder. "I am glad you are seeing reason, Severus." He moved behind his desk and then seated himself. "It is important that we know if Harry is still... your son, or if he has become untrustworthy. So far you have seen nothing out of sorts since that time in Quirinus' class?" Snape shook his head. "Good. Watch him for me, Severus, but you must allow him to do what comes natural."
"You expect him to act like a Gryffindor?" sneered Snape.
Dumbledore chuckled. "Ah no, dear boy! I expect him to be just what he is, a child that is curious. Detention, if you must, but as he is one of your Snakes, allow him a bit of leeway." Dumbledore's eyes twinkled merrily. Returning to his paperwork, Snape understood he was dismissed.
As soon as Snape was through the Headmaster's office door and it was closed behind him, he fled down the stairs and down the dungeons to his personal quarters. Sealing his quarters with additional wards and a silencing spell, he threw Floo powder into the flames as he knelt upon the hearth.
"Malfoy Manor!" he shouted, hardly out of breath.
As soon as the Floo was opened, Snape stuck his head into the green flames and shouted into the echoing parlour that was the main receiving room.
"Lucius! Lucius! Come quick!" he demanded.
Lucius, who had been eating dinner with his wife, came at a dead run to the parlour. Thoughts of Draco having gotten injured flashed through his mind as he hit the hearth with a quickly cast Cushioning Charm and his knees.
"Severus?"
"It's Dumbledore! Come through! We need to talk, now!" Snape ordered and then his head vanished.
Lucius rose from his hearth and grabbed a handful of Floo powder. "Snape's quarters at Hogwarts!" In moments he stepped through the green flames and into Snape's living room. He was handed a measure of firewhiskey.
"What's going on, Severus?" demanded Lucius without drinking the liquor. "You've frightened ten years off of me!"
"I just came from my meeting with Dumbledore," Snape said angrily as he slammed himself into his favourite chair. "He has the magic of Voice," he ground out harshly.
Lucius lowered himself into an opposite chair and nodded slowly in understanding. "So that's how the old wizard manages it!" Lucius smiled appraisingly before looking at his disgruntled friend. "Voice magic has been forbidden since Nicolas Flamel was a young man."
"It was a talent Flamel excelled at," sniped Snape. "No doubt he taught it to Dumbledore."
There was quiet for a few minutes and then Lucius asked, "Severus, as remarkable as the knowledge is about the Headmaster, I know you didn't ask me here for this. What is the trouble?"
"Dumbledore has set up the Stone as more than just a test for Harry, it's a trap. He believes that the abuse the Dursleys put the child through strengthened his magic, but he also believes that it might have released something else..." Snape couldn't voice it.
"The Dark Lord," Lucius finished smoothly. The patrician then drank the liquor in his glass. "Tell me all of it, Severus."
So, for the next ten minutes, Snape recited the meeting he'd had with Dumbledore to Lucius. When he was finished, he stood up to refill his glass from the decanted firewhiskey bottle, and Lucius, very quietly, swore.
"He's mad," Lucius finally concluded.
"That and someone, possibly Voldemort himself, is in this castle and trying to kill my son!" Snape spouted vehemently as he dropped back into his chair. "What can be done, Lucius?"
"Mad though he is, if the Dark..." Lucius still found it hard to use his old master's name, but he bit his tongue and continued, "if Voldemort is attempting to come back, then we need Dumbledore, madness or no."
"And if someone gets hurt?" asked Snape a bit too caustically. "Or if my son decides to go after that stupid Stone?"
Lucius gave Snape a short glare before positing his solution, "Let the old man have his way, Severus. Finding Voldemort and dealing with him will be up to us. I do wonder, though, if it is him, how has he managed to come back?"
"Necromancy," Snape replied easily. He then looked at his friend who seemed rather shocked, and the Potions Master's left eyebrow rose slightly. "Don't tell me you've forgotten the Night of the Inferi, have you?"
Inferi were corpses, the dead animated by the power of a Dark Wizard. Voldemort, who had had considerable necromantic skills was particularly good at animating the dead.
Lucius shuddered and nodded. The Night of the Inferi was probably one of the most nightmarish events that Voldemort had ever held. The Dark Lord's army of Inferi numbered in the thousands and had marched against the town of Dobro, a wizarding town on the coast of Wales. Although many Inferi were destroyed, the town of Dobro was nothing by the time the sun rose. Haunted by that night, Dobro remained dead, and its loss was considered by Voldemort one of his victories.
It also served to give many of the Death Eaters persistent nightmares of that night.
"A body was never found," said Snape, as he glared at the bottom of his empty glass. "Dumbledore and I went to Godric's Hollow to cast spells for any trace of remains and there was nothing to be found."
"Then he's not a ghost," grimaced Lucius.
Snape shook his head slowly. "Did you ever really think so?" the Potions Master sneered.
Lucius glared darkly at his friend. "Do not speak to me as if I am a fool, Severus. You know as well as anyone that it is not my death I fear if he comes back, but that of my family."
Snape sighed and shook his head in regret for his harsh words. "I fear the same for Harry, Lucius. However, it appears I not only have to be wary of the return of a Dark Lord, but of a mad Headmaster."
"Albus Dumbledore is easily dealt with by using the law against him," replied Lucius blithely. "However, we must be quit of Voldemort for certain or that old man will find a way to evade legal grasp."
A knock upon Snape's door interrupted them both. Snape frowned, certain he wasn't expecting anyone, then he touched the bridge of his nose. "Harry! I invited him here after dinner."
Lucius smiled and walked over to the Floo. "I'll leave you to a pleasant evening with your son, then, Severus." He threw a handful of Floo powder into the flames. "Malfoy Manor!" Before stepping through, he glanced over his shoulder. "Be thankful that the Headmaster has shown his hand so soon, my friend. It allows us to better be on our guard." The patrician then stepped through the green flames and vanished.
Another knock, this time a bit more tentative sounding, drew Snape from his chair and from his dour thoughts. He opened the door to his quarters and looked down upon the shy smile of his son.
"I know you said after dinner, and it's not quite, but I didn't see you in the Great Hall and I got sort of worried, sir," babbled Harry.
Snape ushered his son into his quarters and shut the door behind him. "I merely had an inordinately long meeting with the Headmaster, Harry. Did you eat dinner, or were you too worried for me?" The older man smirked pleasantly as Harry's cheeks coloured.
"I had juice," Harry replied.
"Hardly enough to send you off to bed properly. Come join me since I missed mine."
Snape found it odd, endearing, and satisfying that Harry, even at his age, liked to cuddle. He supposed a great deal of that had to do with the fact that Harry's erstwhile relatives gave him the back of their hands instead of giving the boy the affection he craved. Snape, himself, found it rather strange that he was so willing to give his son the affection he wanted.
Snape was no stranger to embraces, comfort, or hugs. He just didn't care for unwanted touch. As the Head of Slytherin House he often had to comfort homesick first years, but he had gotten quite good at delegating the more prolonged comfort to his prefects. He chose his prefects for their ability to comfort, and to advise. They were, in a sense, big brother and sister to the Snakes of all ages.
Of the staff it was Pomona Sprout who was the most gregarious with her affections. No one escaped her hugs, and no one was ever without her triple chocolate brownies at Christmas. Snape smirked to himself as he looked forward to Christmas this year because of those blasted brownies. Much better than the crazy socks Dumbledore insisted upon giving everyone.
"Am I gonna change, Dad?" Harry had been practising his reading for the last fifteen minutes when he asked the question, seemingly out of the blue.
"You mean from the potion?" he asked to clarify the question.
"Yeah... I mean, yes, Sir... uhm... Dad." Harry loved the fact he had a father now, but it was difficult to remember he had permission to call the man he had named 'dad' in his dreams. "Draco said that since our magic and DNA mixed, I'll look like you."
Snape ran his fingers through the still recalcitrant raven hair of his son's. "Would that bother you, Harry?"
"Not really," he shrugged. "I mean, it would be kind of neat to look like you. I wish it would fix my eyes, though." Harry picked at a corner of a page in his book.
"I'm sure you'll take on a few minor characteristics of mine, but there really is nothing that can be done about your eyesight," Snape said with a slight tone of regret.
Harry grinned, a bit smugly. He wriggled out from under his father's arm and ran over to his bookbag that was in the corner by the clothes tree. Slightly puzzled and curious, Snape watched as the boy rummaged through his bag and then came back with a slim magazine he handed to his father.
"Draco told me his dad's got reading glasses and is going to get some experimental thing in done in Paris to fix them so Draco gave me this book that's all about eye injuries and some of the new healing spells there are to help."
Snape took the magazine and slowly thumbed through it. His brow was furrowed in thought. When he realised Harry was waiting for a response, he closed the magazine. "Let me read through this and do some research, son." Harry let out a relieved sigh. "I'll speak to your Oculist and we'll see if there are alternatives to your glasses."
"I hope so," said Harry settling back under his father's arm. He allowed Snape to adjust them both for comfort. "I keep thinking I'll lose my glasses at Quidditch Little League practice or they'll get broken."
"During practice and the games we can use a Sticking Charm to keep them from falling off your face. As for them breaking, that's already been taken care of when we visited the Oculist. One of the many protection charms is an Unbreakable Charm."
"Oh," Harry simply replied.
Snape gave the boy a small smile and then tapped his book. "Fifteen minutes and then it's time to return to your dorm."
Harry opened his book, prepared to read, when he paused. "Do you think I'm improving, Si... Dad?"
"You are doing very well, Harry. I think that since your relatives did not wish for you to read was the only thing making you hesitant when you read aloud. Your comprehension is excellent and you must read well silently to understand your textbooks." He grimaced thinking about those blasted Dursleys. Since the Headmaster knew that Harry was his son and he would claim him, he was now free to wreak a bit of retribution on those insidious Muggles. Time to consider that later as he wanted to pay attention to his son now. "Tomorrow I shall have some sums for you to do since I want to see how your Maths are."
"What do I need Maths for?" Harry asked genuinely curious.
"Potions, for theory in Transfiguration, Astronomy, and in Arithmancy." He replied.
"Well, okay. For Potions that's all right but everything else... bleh!" Harry giggled as his father lightly poked his side.
"Read, my little idiot." Snape pulled his son a bit closer to his side. Yes, he was pleased that Harry liked to cuddle.
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