Time Turning Conundrum

[Early-December 1933]

Severus apparated into the backyard of the Leaky Cauldron, not wanting to startle or wake Riddle with the sound of apparation, in case he was still asleep. He stepped through the back door, and was met by a loud, bustling atmosphere.

“I see you’ve come back from your errand, Mr Snape?”

Severus glanced over to the bartender, who was preparing multiple drinks. He nodded his head in greeting. “Indeed.” 

“Excellent! I do apologise for the noise—but it is the time of year where we are the busiest.”

“No need for apologies. As long as it causes no major disturbance upstairs, the noise is bearable.”

The bartender flicked his wand, sending a few glasses of butterbeer whizzing over to their respective tables before turning to smile warmly at Severus. “Much appreciated, Mr Snape. May you have a nice day.” 

Severus gave a curt nod and turned, fully intending to swiftly make his way up to his room, but he stopped short. 

The bartender was here the previous night before he had left, and was presumably around when the attack occurred. Perhaps he could find out some additional information. It was rather important for Riddle’s safety, so he figured a minor ‘detour’ for this case was warranted. 

He pivoted back around and maneuvered his way over to the bar. 

“Mr Allen,” he began, leaning his back against the bar top, “you were here the previous night, is that correct?”

The bartender looked up from preparing another round of drinks to give Severus a curious expression. “Why yes, I was. Is something the matter, sir?”

“Did anything of note occur last night?”

The bartender eyed Severus for a moment, seeming to try and process what he was referring to. Then, a look of realisation dawned on his face. “Ah, you must be referring to the attack from Grindelwald, yes?” 

Severus simply raised an eyebrow. The bartender tilted his head slightly in thought.

“Well, I assume you have seen the details in the paper? If so, there isn’t much more to say, sir. They have captured the majority of the situation rather accurately.”

“I see,” Severus said, expression blank. 

“Yes— it was rather underwhelming, actually.”

“I would imagine,” Severus drawled, sidestepping a slightly tilted looking pair of witches, preparing to leave once more.

“Although, there was one curious thing last night that might interest you, Mr Snape.” 

Severus turned his head and quirked an eyebrow. 

The bartender was nodding his head, pouring a glass of ginger ale. “Yes, someone had cast a shield spell around this place.” He gestured around him with his free hand. “Thus why we are rather unharmed after the skirmish.”

"It protected the entire inn from any damages?" Severus questioned, mildly intrigued. 

"Quite so, Mr Snape. Well, the shield wasn't enveloping the entire inn per se, but it was nearly large enough to cover the entire building.

"Hm." 

"Hm indeed— and having seen it, it was rather amazing magic. But that's just my two knuts, really." 

Severus furrowed his eyebrows, ignoring the attempt at conversation. "If I may inquire, who was the one that cast this...shield spell?"

He paused, cocking his head to the side. “I don’t actually know who was the one that cast it, you see sir, which is what makes it rather interesting.” 

“Is that so?”

“Y—

“Yar, mate!” A gravelly voice from his right jumped in. Severus narrowed his eyes at a familiar looking man who had just plopped himself down on the stool not too far away from him. “I saw tha whole thing from ‘ere! ‘Twas—hiccup— bloody impressive, I tell ya! All them spells flung all ‘round, and not ‘un—hiccup— even touched tis ‘ere establishment! Tha’ Dumbledore fella, bloody impressive he is! Hiccup—”

“Alright, Mr Fletcher, slow down. Here, take this please. It will help with your hiccups.” The bartender handed the man the glass of ginger ale. Severus watched impassively as the stout man grabbed the drink, and stumbled along as he was led away by the bartender. 

He sighed internally. No wonder he thought the man looked familiar. This was, presumably, Mundungus Fletcher’s father. Presumably. Severus shook his head.

Alcoholism seems to run in the family, doesn’t it? He thought to himself, mildly repulsed but not surprised. How this man ended up with a child, I will never know. 

Regardless, Fletcher did provide some amount of information, which was interesting, but ultimately only raised more questions than it answered. 

It wasn’t that he doubted Dumbledore provided the protection— but knowing the man, he didn’t care much for protecting the property, and would rather just let the civilians evacuate on their own and freely use the space instead. Which, to the man’s credit, made sense, all things considered. 

More importantly, this ‘shield charm’ that both men mentioned didn't seem to be a charm at all. The fact that no single spell hit the building throughout the...skirmish, showed that it had covered a majority of the building for the entire duration of the fight. And that was enough to rouse suspicion. 

Severus crossed his arms, surveying the other patrons as his mind worked.

There was no such shield charm of any variation that could be maintained whilst casting other spells, at least not to his knowledge. The only thing similar enough was a ward, and one at this size requires preparation to set up and activate. 

It wasn’t that Dumbledore couldn’t have found out the location of the ambush prior to the planned date, but Severus found it hard to believe. The man himself never did anything on his own unless absolutely necessary, and from what he recalled Dumbledore never had a double agent before him. Simply put, the chances that it was Dumbledore or anyone on his side that set up this ‘shield’ in advance were shallow. 

So that leaves…Severus frowned, not liking the second option even more. It was miles more unlikely, and even if it were to happen—-

“Are you alright, sir?” 

Severus glanced to his left at the bartender, who had returned to his post and was looking at him with mild concern. He nodded, pushing himself off the counter top.

“Yes. I was simply deep in thought.”

“Ah, that's wonderful. Well I do apologise for the interruption on behalf of Mr Fletcher— He has a slight habit of jumping into conversations.” The bartender said, smiling apologetically. 

“Hm.” 

There was a pause, as the bartender sent yet another round of drinks flying off to their respective tables. Severus tracked down one of them as it landed itself firmly on a table with a ‘thunk’, where a burly looking wizard promptly grabbed it and loudly took a large slosh out of the glass.  

A rather efficient system, as usual, Severus observed. Makes one wonder why we don’t use such methods in the future.

“Would you like a drink, Mr Snape? You have been standing there for a while— some tea for yourself, perchance?" The bartender turned to him and asked, eyebrows raised.

Severus opened his mouth to reject, preparing to retreat to his inn room and check on Riddle (it was his initial goal— about time he got around to it), when he paused once more. 

Riddle hasn’t had any food or beverage since Severus had brought him here, and he would probably feel parched when he woke up. Perhaps purchasing a drink for Riddle would prove prevalent. 

He glanced back at the man behind the counter. “A cup of warm tea would be apt.”

The bartender nodded, summoning a tea cup and deftly pouring some tea from a kettle of some sorts. He gently set the cup down on the counter along with a saucer, smiling warmly at Severus. 

“Here’s your cup, sir. Have a nice day,” 

Severus gave a curt nod of acknowledgement, and he laid out a few sickles in return before picking up the drink with both hands. He then promptly strode off and made his way up the stairs, careful not to spill the drink in his hands.

That took longer than expected, Severus thought to himself as he ascended the steps. I shouldn’t have wasted my time at the apothecary entertaining Ashurn, even if I am in a much more amenable mood than I usually am. 

Although, he conceded, his 'banter' with Ashurn did give him a few relatively important points— which in turn led him to some rather interesting pieces of information.

He reached the top of the stairs, and he sharply turned left to continue down the hall, the bustling noise of the pub slowly fading away.  

They were areas of genuine concern, and Severus, the cautious man that he was, couldn’t really ‘go with the flow’ and just let things play out. Morgana forbid what other implications might occur if he acted like a Gryffindor all over again. 

Severus stopped in front of his room door, letting out a sigh. 

Well, he thought as he transferred the tea cup into one hand and moved the other to grab the door handle, I can ponder this at a later time. Currently, I just need to focus on ensuring that—

Severus paused as a faint shuffling was heard from within the room. He frowned. Had Riddle awoken? 

His hand hovered over the door handle for a moment longer, before turning the knob and gently pushing the door open. He froze in his tracks as his gaze landed on what—who— was on the floor. 

There Riddle was, sitting on the floor with his back against the bed, hugging his knees to his chest. He was staring up at Severus with what could only be described as fear, eyes red and raw, as if he had been crying, but the lack of shine in his eyes told Severus otherwise. 

Their gazes locked, and Severus found himself slightly at a loss, although his expression never deviated from the usual stoicism. 

After a moment, Severus spoke, breaking the silence. “Riddle, I see you have awakened.” The child remained frozen, just staring at him with those blood-shot eyes. 

Alright, this is going to take a while. He sighed internally, preparing himself.

Severus stepped into the room, the door shutting gently behind him with a ‘click’. He moved slowly, careful not to startle Riddle with any sudden movements. He made his way over to the far side of the room, and set the tea cup down on the desk. 

“I trust that you have had sufficient rest?” Severus asked, turning around to look at Riddle once more. The boy continued to stare at him, unmoving, as if he had been frozen in time. Severus took a deep breath. 

“Well then,” he went on, taking a step in Riddle’s direction. “I suppose—” 

All of a sudden, Riddle seemed to snap out of his reverie, and he hurriedly scrambled across the floor away from Severus, until his back hit the bedside table. There he sat, seeming to try and make himself as small as possible, frantic wide eyes still fixated on Severus. 

Severus’ steady gaze simply followed, eyes narrowed.  

He’s finally moved, at the very least, he thought, studying the cowering child. However, his expression, although understandable, was far too terrified for Severus’ liking. 

Merlin, how did I get myself into this mess? Severus sighed, mind racing on how to best approach Riddle. 

It was natural, of course, for Riddle to be wary of strangers at this point. What person wouldn’t, after experiencing what he had, just the night before? 

Severus scowled internally, recalling a similar situation from the past. He could empathise with Riddle on some level he supposed, which was a rarity, but it might aid him in this situation. 

It did align with what Minerva always told him— what was it?— right, ‘Do try to empathise with the students, Severus. You tend to scare them off before they even say a word!’ Severus felt like rolling his eyes as he always did, replaying the words in his mind. Trying to connect with the students was never a goal for him— it was a purely pointless action. 

But, he conceded, perhaps in this endeavour following his colleague’s advice would be prudent. 

Regardless, at this moment he just needed to figure out just how to calm Riddle down, at least enough to have Riddle be rational enough for him to explain the situation to him.

“Riddle,” Severus began, deciding to remain at his spot, “everything is alright. You need not worry—there is no danger in this instance.” The child still kept himself backed up against the bedside table, chest noticeably rising up and down. Severus continued, voice steady, undeterred. 

“There is no need to worry, you are safe.” 

There was a flicker of recognition in Riddle’s eyes, which Severus did not miss. He went on, still careful not to pressure Riddle by pressing too hard.

“Yes, quite right—there is no need to be so tense.” 

Riddle’s eyes flickered once more, and his dry lips parted open ever so slightly. “...s-sir?”

“Indeed.” Severus remained still, eyeing the boy across him. Riddle hadn’t relaxed, naturally, but he didn’t tense up either, which Severus counted as progress. He wasn’t exactly sure how to proceed— again, he barely had any experience consoling people, let alone children. 

Perhaps this would be simpler if I were next to him. 

“Is it alright for me to approach you?” Severus asked, expression betraying none of his inner thoughts.

There was a long pause as Riddle stared at him, breathing still slightly erratic, his thin arms and legs clutched close to himself. Severus passively observed back, watching the child’s every action, looking for any indication of what he should do next. But after a while, he was starting to doubt himself. 

Had he pushed too far? Severus wouldn’t be surprised if he had— Merlin knows how delicate children’s feelings are. He pursed his lips. Should he ask the question again? Rephrase it perhaps? 

But just as he was contemplating his actions, he caught Riddle giving the smallest, most imperceptible of nods. 

Severus inclined his head in turn. “Very Well.”

He took measured steps, slowly making his way towards the child, still watching for any sign of discomfort. Riddle stayed still, body only moving ever so slightly with the rising and falling of his chest. His head was downcast, but he could just make out those blue eyes watching him from behind long, unkempt hair. 

Severus soon found himself towering over Riddle’s tiny form, which was only exaggerated by how small Riddle had made himself in his curled up position. He took a breath, before elegantly crouching down to meet the child’s eye level. 

Right, and how shall I proceed here… Severus thought, whilst silently surveying the child in front of him. No point stirring an empty cauldron, he figured, by asking if Riddle was ‘alright’. Any sensible person could clearly see that the boy isn’t 'alright’ in the slightest. 

Severus sighed. Might as well head to the root of the problem— they would get nowhere if he were to tiptoe all around Riddle’s feelings. But he still had to be careful to mind them, nonetheless. 

“What is it that you are bothered by, Riddle?”

There was no response. Riddle simply remained still, body tense, breathing picking up ever so slightly, which Severus didn’t miss. His expression softened minutely.

“What are you worried by, Riddle?” He tried again, voice softer than he expected. 

Again, silence. Severus wasn’t really expecting much, but looking at Riddle’s body language, he was admittedly mildly concerned.

“Riddle? Are you listening?”

Riddle seemed to have gone back into whatever trance he was in, eyes wide and pupil’s dilated, but they weren’t focused on him. His hands tightened around his arms, which Severus immediately noticed. He seemed to be mumbling something to himself, which Severus couldn’t make out, even if he were an expert at reading lips. 

He leaned in slightly, tilting his ear towards Riddle. “Pardon?”

“...she…I don’t…didn’t…she’s safe?”

Severus narrowed his eyes, mind racing. She? Who is she for Riddle to worry about her safety? Ah, could it be… He suppressed a grimace. It had to be her— who else but Riddle’s mother would the child know well enough to fret over at this moment?

Yet, how was he to break it to Riddle? He was clearly nowhere calm enough to receive news of this sort well. Severus pursed his lips. Perhaps he should try to drive the conversation away—

Just then, there was a sharp tug at his sleeve. Severus’ gaze snapped down to his resting arm, before shifting back up to meet the anguished expression of the child in front of him. 

“I— M-Mum’s safe— you saved her, sir, didn’t you, sir? Mum’s safe, she is, sir, right?” Riddle asked—begged, voice raw and desperate, laced with emotions that no child should ever feel. 

Severus stared at Riddle, taken aback at the sudden outburst. How far damaged is this boy, for him to express anguish so deeply? He parted his lips, but no real words came out.  

“I…” Severus faltered. All of a sudden, he felt as though he couldn't carry out his initial plan. Why? Severus didn’t know either. But somewhere inside, looking at Riddle’s face, contorted with grief, he knew, for whatever reason, that he couldn’t do it. 

He sighed, bowing his head slightly. “…My deepest condolences.” 

Riddle froze, and the hand gripping his sleeve tightened upon hearing the words. 

“No…” Riddle said, voice barely more than a whisper. “No, no, no, no—”

“Riddle—”

“She’s not— Mum’s back at Master’s house, isn’t she? She’s safe, she’s safe!” Riddle brought his arms up to his head, breathing picking up.

“Riddle, you need to calm—”

“NO!” Riddle shouted, pulling at his hair in distress. “I— you’re lying! They all do! Mum— she’s alive! It can’t be— she’s safe! I didn’t— it—it wasn’t me!” His voice cracked as he spoke. 

Severus took a deep breath. “Listen,” he began, arm reaching out towards the child, “Riddle, I understand that—”

“STOP!” Riddle jerked away from Severus, hastily scrambling away once more, but he looked far more panicked than when they began this interaction— and it was clear that his mother’s death had impacted him far more deeply than he had anticipated. 

Severus’ gaze followed, all the way until the child’s back hit the wall next to the room door. Riddle was looking at him with those wide eyes again, arms braced against the wall and hands curled up into fists, his entire body trembling. 

He took yet another deep breath, dropping his raised arm, attempting to calm himself down. 

Alright Severus, remember; empathise. Riddle is completely within his rights to behave as such. Empathise. 

“Riddle,” he started cautiously, “I understand why you might be feeling the way you are, but you have to get a hold of yourself.” 

Riddle didn’t respond immediately, but it was clear that Severus’ words fell on deaf ears. The child had returned to clutching his head, chest heaving and mumbling to himself in disarray. 

“She has to be safe… she has to be! Mum can’t— she can’t!”

“R—”

“Why? Why did she leave me? I- It wasn’t me, I promise! I can’t have— no! I didn’t…I didn’t…I didn’t! I—” 

“You have to—

“She has to be alive! Mum–Mum has to be there! I- I didn’t do— she has to be safe, she—”

“Tom Riddle!”

The child tensed, his rambling instantly cutting off. Riddle’s head snapped up to look at him, terrified expression meeting Severus’ cold gaze. 

Severus closed his eyes and sighed sharply, pinching his nose bridge. Finally, some quiet. He took another deep breath, composing himself. Why did I get myself wrapped up in this— Severus opened his eyes and glanced back at Riddle, who’s body language was guarded yet again. 

He exhaled, studying the boy. He had lost his patience for a moment, and they were all the way back at square one. Now that Riddle was wary of him— again— how was he to approach the child? 

Perhaps I am only making the situation worse by intervening. Severus pursed his lips. It was a sound thought, considering his current ability to comfort people. On the plus side, he supposed that could mean that he wouldn’t have to torture himself any longer with this process. 

“Riddle—” The child physically jerked at the sound of his name, which was mildly concerning to Severus, but he chose to push that thought away. “ —would you prefer I leave you alone?”

Riddle stared at him blankly, eyes wide and frantic, expression just as terrified as before. Severus gazed back, waiting impassively for an answer. 

Moments passed, and still, there was no answer, only the tense silence as they stared at each other, one wary and the other apathetic. 

Severus hummed, eventually breaking the silence. “I will presume that that is a ‘no’.” He nodded, slowly getting up and straightening himself. “Very well then.”

Apparently empathising doesn’t work after all, he thought mordantly, dusting off his cloak. Severus looked up at Riddle, expression inscrutable. 

“There is tea on the desk if you feel the need to quench your thirst.” He gestured over to his right, eyeing Riddle to make sure he understood. The child just continued to watch him with an odd look, one that he couldn’t quite describe. 

Severus inclined his head. “I shall take my leave then,” he said curtly, before making his way towards the exit. 

The door was unfortunately right next to the wall where Riddle had chosen to back himself up against, but he pretended not to notice Riddle’s obvious squirming as he approached. For both their sakes. 

As he stepped up to the door and placed a hand on the door handle, he could practically feel the tension radiating off of the child beside him. Severus paused for a brief moment, before pushing down on the handle, and pulling open the door. 

But just as he took a step out, there was a faint tug at his cloak. Severus looked down in mild surprise, masking it with an elegantly raised eyebrow. 

“Yes?” 

Riddle faltered, keeping his head bowed and face hidden behind the length of his hair. The fist gripping the hem of his cloak loosened marginally, but remained holding on to the fabric. Severus’ gaze flickered to the child’s hand, before shifting back to Riddle. 

He didn’t leave. Severus simply regarded the child, eyes searching. After a moment, he spoke.  

“I will repeat my question: Would you prefer that I leave you alone, Riddle?”

Another pause. 

Severus fully expected Riddle to release his cloak, signalling him to leave, but Riddle’s fists tightened, and he tugged once more. Severus narrowed his eyes, contemplating if it were best for him to exit regardless. 

He pursed his lips, and cast a couple quick glances down the hallway before shutting the door and turning fully to face Riddle. 

The child was still clearly guarded, but at the very least he had seemed to finally control himself. He crouched down on one knee once more to meet Riddle’s eye level. Riddle’s hand dropped down along with him, still clutching his cloak. 

“Riddle,” he began slowly, looking firmly into the child’s eyes— or what he could see of it, “I need you to listen to me and understand this: I am not here to harm you, but to help you. Is that clear?” 

Riddle seemed to hesitate, fidgeting with his fingers and the edge of his cloak. Severus held his gaze, waiting patiently for an answer. Eventually, there was a small nod, which was a sufficient enough answer for Severus, considering the situation.

“Excellent. Now Riddle,” Severus continued, tone serious. “ I need you to inform me of what is bothering you. Otherwise I will not be able to aid you.” 

The child visibly tensed, his fist clenching the hem of Severus’ cloak tightly, as if to ground himself. His breaths quickened, and Severus could see that this might descend into yet another panic attack if he didn’t act on it. 

Instinctively, he brought his arms up and grasped the child’s shoulders firmly. 

“Calm down, Riddle. Remember, nothing that you are imagining is happening now. Breathe— focus on the present.” 

Riddle was still breathing hard, scrawny limbs trembling and eyes darting wildly from left to right. However, he hadn’t burst out like he had previously, which was already an improvement as far as Severus was concerned. 

He kept his hands on the child’s shoulders, subconsciously squeezing them slightly. 

“Yes, Riddle, excellent. Just breathe slowly, and calm yourself down.” 

He felt his cloak being pulled on even more, and Riddle had now grasped his sleeve as well, likely on instinct, and was clutching them like his life depended on it.  

“I— I—” 

“Slowly, Riddle. Remember, breathe.” 

“I—She can’t leave me, ” Riddle whispered, voice cracking. “Why?… She can’t...I- I didn’t—”

“Riddle.” 

The child broke off, head jerking up a fraction, although his gaze was not quite meeting Severus’ eyes. 

“Riddle, look at me.” The child kept his eyes downcast, not daring to do so. Severus let out a sigh, moving his free hand to gently take hold of Riddle’s chin. He tilted the child’s face up, and gazed steadily into the other’s eyes. “Riddle, look at me, and listen. ”

Riddle tightened his fists, and wide, terrified blue eyes slowly lifted and locked with calm, dark obsidian ones. Severus paused, holding the eye contact a moment longer, before speaking.

“Do you trust me?”

Severus observed Riddle, who had frozen, and was staring at him, evidently surprised by his words. Severus himself wasn’t entirely sure what compelled him to ask such a question. He could hardly expect Riddle to give him, of all people, such a fickle thing, especially after what he experienced.

Again, it just felt…right. 

He surveyed Riddle’s reaction for a few seconds more, eyes searching. Searching for what? He couldn't say. But, as expected, there was no answer. He let go off Riddle’s chin and shoulder, letting his arms drop down to his side. He looked away, unsure if the prolonged eye contact was making the child uncomfortable. 

“Regardless, there is no need for you to worry about anything. No harm will befall you while you are here.” Severus said, voice low. He stayed crouching for a second more, and moved to stand up, when a soft sniff caught his attention. 

His eyes darted back, and was met with the sight of Riddle tucking his knees to his chest, and hastily wiping his eyes with both hands, shoulders trembling. 

“Sorry, sir...I-I know I shouldn't cry...sorry, sir— I'll s-stop,” the child muttered, speech so soft and barely coherent, but predictable enough for Severus to make out.

Merlin, and here we go again, he thought, suppressing a sigh. He swiftly drew his wand, not bothering to hide it at this point in time, and quickly summoned a decently sized handkerchief. 

“Here, Riddle," he said firmly, but not unkindly, holding out the piece of cloth, “I believe you will need this.” 

Riddle peered up at him, watery eyes shining through his dark hair, but made no move to accept the handkerchief. Instead, Riddle just decided to continue his display and was wiping his eyes with more vigour—as if that would improve the situation any better. 

Severus sighed. “Riddle, just take the handkerchief. You might as well use it if you plan to initiate the waterworks.”

The child shook his head timidly, attempting to blink away the tears that were welling up in his eyes. “I-I can’t... I’m not s-supposed to c—sniff—cry, it’s bad— I’m really sorry... I’ll stop crying now—sniff—sir,” Riddle mumbled, quickly turning away and rubbing his eyes even harder. 

Narrowing his eyes, Severus studied the child in front of him. Then, he exhaled softly, still holding out the handkerchief. 

“I shall overlook this for this time, Riddle, so I do advise you to stop your…attempts to prevent your tears, and take this handkerchief to keep yourself at least slightly presentable.”

Riddle sniffed, fists clenching slightly, and he stared at the handkerchief for a moment, uncertain gaze flickering to Severus before landing back on the handkerchief. Then, hand trembling, he reached up and gently took the handkerchief from his hands. He held it in two hands, sniffing, clearly not planning to use the cloth in the slightest. 

Severus watched as the child stared at the handkerchief, feeling slightly out of place crouching next to Riddle as he did…whatever it was that he was doing. 

Now would be a time to consider what the other professors might do in this situation— Severus paused, recalling the previous night. He had placed a hand on Riddle’s shoulder, and it had worked. It did earlier too, now that he thought about it. Perhaps it would work in this situation as well?

Hesitantly, he reached out, considering before placing his hand on Riddle’s shoulders. The child continued to sniffle, and Severus realised that Riddle was trembling more than it appeared. 

“There, there,” he muttered, awkwardly patting the child’s back, trying to mimic how he’s seen Minerva or Filius do such things (not because of him, definitely). 

Although, Riddle seemed to be sniffing even harder now, instead of the opposite. He paused, noticing the change. Perhaps this wasn’t the best idea—

But just as he was contemplating letting go, when the strangest thing occurred. Over the course of the past few minutes, Riddle had ended up leaning into Severus’ touch, and ended up burying his face into Severus’ cloak. Yes, Severus was as appalled as you are. 

Severus tensed, but forced himself to relax. He looked down in both surprise and mild disgust. He knitted his eyebrows, unsure of how to react. What was this child doing? He dared not remove his arm, lest Riddle misinterpret his actions and they had to go through yet another…ordeal. 

But his hand was rather oddly placed now, so Severus instinctively moved his arm to wrap around the child instead. Riddle, who had merely been sniffing up to this point, had started to let the tears flow, and was crying rather hard at this point, shoulders shaking, which could be felt even more so now at the close proximity. 

Severus, gazing down at the child, felt that strange yet ever so present tug at his chest again, and in that moment of lapsed judgement, he made an unusual decision, and resumed patting Riddle’s back. 

"It's alright, Riddle. It's alright," he muttered, unconsciously echoing his previous words. 

What are you doing, Severus Snape, he thought, crouching there in front of the door with Riddle in his arms. Become a sentimental fool now, have you? Blasphemous. 

Still, he didn’t stop. 

Riddle’s small hands found their way to Severus’ cloak, and were clutching them tightly once more. It did end up allowing Riddle to bury himself deeper into his cloak, which was… Severus grimaced. Thankfully the child was too occupied at the present moment to notice his expression. 

This is fine. Completely. Wholly. Undoubtedly. He could just about feel Riddle’s tears wetting his shirt now. Severus pursed his lips. I’ll have to clean myself up thoroughly later. 

He looked up at the slightly mouldy ceiling. He flitted his gaze out the window. He glanced around at the familiar, dank interior. All of a sudden, the usually bland place didn't seem all that uninteresting. Fascinating. 

Sighing softly, he shifted his gaze back to the child who had somehow ended up in his arms. He could barely hear the sobs from Riddle, the only signs of him actually crying were the extremely noticeable trembling of his shoulders and the wetness of his shirt from Riddle’s tears. 

It was probably a sign that the child was still afraid to fully express his feelings. It was extremely reasonable— from a working adult’s standpoint. But for a child, even Severus knew well enough that they should at least have a period in their childhood where they can express themselves free of will. 

And I wonder who’s fault that is. He scowled, subconsciously tightening his grip around Riddle’s shoulders. I’ve taken care of that problem, at the very least. He returned his gaze to the child, expression softening imperceptibly. 

Well, he thought, taking a deep breath, this is going to last a while. I might as well find a more stable position, rather than crouch here all day. 

Carefully, he lowered himself to the ground as smoothly as he possibly could, arm still wrapped around Riddle. Sitting down on the wooden floor, he tried to get himself in a more comfortable position, but having a crying child in his arms didn’t make that the easiest task. 

Eventually, Severus gave up, in lieu of ensuring that he didn’t bother Riddle with his movement’s too much. 

He glanced down at Riddle, unsure of what to do next. So he stayed silent, just holding Riddle, while the child let out his grief, anger, and whatever other feelings he had inside that tiny mind. 

And there he sat, with his legs folded beneath him, Riddle crying softly into his cloak, and his arm wrapped firmly around the child’s shoulder, quietly providing Riddle with a comfort Severus didn’t fully understand the impact of. 

To be continued