For some reason the boy seemed to have latched onto Severus and clung to him like a barnacle, whimpering pitifully when Severus arrived in the Hospital Wing and tried to dislodge Harry for Poppy’s examination.
“It’s all right,” Poppy said eventually. “Severus, just let him sit in your lap and hold him. See, Harry, no one here is going to take you away.”
Harry sniffled, watching her warily, as she cast her diagnostic spells, then started coughing again, the sound making Severus’s own lungs ache in sympathy.
“Here, how about a lollipop?” Poppy said, holding out a bright red monstrosity.
“Really, Poppy?” Severus hissed.
“Yes,” she hissed back. “Because it will ease the soreness in his throat and soothe his lungs. I know what I’m doing, Severus.”
Severus blinked, taken aback and surprised about her creativity. But then she had been the Matron even before Severus had first attended Hogwarts.
Harry, meanwhile, looked at the confection with bleary eyes and then for some unfathomable reason glanced up at Severus as if asking for permission. Or perhaps asking if it was safe. Severus gave him a curt nod. The boy searched his face a moment longer before turning to Poppy and slowly reaching out for the lolly as if expecting it to be snatched away any moment. He gave Poppy a hesitant smile after sticking the thing in his mouth, then settled back against Severus, clearly exhausted.
“Now, I think we should get him into some warmer pyjamas.” Poppy gave the threadbare sack Harry was wearing a disgusted look.
“You want to change his clothes?”
“Yes, they’re soaked through and reek of vomit.” She wrinkled her nose. “As a matter of fact, you both do.”
Severus glared at her. “He threw up on me when I Apparated us here.”
“Oh, you poor thing,” Poppy crooned to Harry. Severus rolled his eyes at her antics.
“Get him out of those rags while I get him something better,” Poppy ordered after straightening.
“Me?” Severus exclaimed. “No, you do it!”
Poppy rolled her eyes. “Really, Severus, one would think you’d never seen a child.” Then she bustled off.
Severus stared at Harry, Harry stared back, mouth full of lolly and his lips bright red.
“Well,” Severus said. “I hope you’re not attached to that thing.” He nodded to the pyjama which looked like it had belonged to that fat cousin of Harry’s once upon a time, sliding off one bony shoulder. Severus shook his wand into his hand and simply vanished the offending garment.
Harry jumped, then blinked in surprise, looked down and touched his now naked chest in wonder. When he started shivering, Severus quickly pulled the blanket off the bed, wrapping it around the small boy. Harry grinned weakly and promptly slumped against Severus’s chest, fingers curling into Severus’s robes.
That was when Severus noticed the bruises on the boy’s right forearm. Finger-shaped bruises. Dark and ugly and so very familiar that, for a brief moment, Severus was eight years old again, being dragged through the house to yelling and screaming.
He blinked back to himself and shared a look with Poppy who had returned while he had gotten lost in thoughts best never touched again.
Poppy’s eyes blazed, her mouth set into a firm line. “I’ll get the Bruise Balm,” she said softly, setting a folded pyjama on the bed beside Severus. “You get him dressed.”
Severus’s eyes widened in alarm. Getting the boy dressed? Getting him out of his clothes was one thing, but he didn’t have the slightest idea how to get the boy into a new pyjama! But Poppy was already gone and the boy was getting cold.
To his relief, the boy was lucid enough to do most of the work himself, wriggling into the pyjama bottoms and poking his arms through the holes when Severus told him to, and getting the thick, woollen socks on his feet wasn’t too hard.
Poppy returned, giving Severus an approving look before gently taking Harry’s hand—or she tried to for Harry shrank away from her, almost disappearing into the folds of Severus’s robes and no coaxing would draw him out.
She straightened, forehead creased, hands on her hips, glancing between Severus and the boy. Then she held out the jar.
“Here, you try.”
“Me?” Severus asked incredulously.
“Yes. He obviously likes you.”
“A grave error of judgment.”
Poppy’s expression darkened and with a sigh Severus took the jar.
“Harry, will you let me see your arm?” he asked.
Harry peeked up at him through his unruly hair and they stared at each other for a few heartbeats before the boy’s gaze dropped, his shoulders slumping and he slowly held out his arm.
For a moment Severus juggled the jar, the boy and the boy’s arm, until Poppy took pity on him, plucking the jar from his hand and holding it out for him, so that he could apply the thick balm to the ugly bruises.
“Anywhere else?” Severus asked in a low voice.
Harry shook his head.
“It’ll be all gone by morning, Harry dear, you’ll see,” Poppy assured, as Severus cleaned his hand with a twist of his wrist and a wandless spell.
Harry shot her a quick glance before curling into Severus again like a little koala, hiding his arm between his and Severus’s bodies.
Severus picked the boy up and stood in order to deposit Harry on the bed and let him sleep, but the boy wouldn’t let go, his small fingers surprisingly strong, and then he started coughing up his lungs, the lollipop falling out of his mouth and to the floor, thankfully missing Severus’s robes on the way down.
“Let him be, Severus,” Poppy urged, picking up the lolly and depositing it on the side table before trying to coax the boy to take a spoonful of medicine.
Severus gave her an incredulous look. “Let him be? Poppy, he needs to lie down and rest. And I, as you so aptly pointed out, need a shower and a change of clothes.”
A freshening charm hit him, blowing his hair from his face.
The coughing stopped suddenly before resuming a moment later. Severus straightened, carefully shifting the wheezing boy, so that he wouldn’t drop him, eyes narrowing at the sight of Poppy’s smug smile.
“I tried that already,” he hissed.
Poppy shrugged. “Must not have been strong enough.” She resumed her attempts at convincing Harry to take the medicine and Severus’s patience finally ran out.
“Harry, stop fussing and take your medicine! It’ll help with the coughing,” he snapped and regretted his harsh tone a moment later when the boy flinched violently in his arms. Poppy glowered at Severus, but at least his outburst made the boy open his mouth and take the Lung Ease. The coughing tapered off quickly after that and Severus breathed a sigh of relief, rubbing a hand over the boy’s back in silent apology, pacing up and down between the long row of beds, hoping that the boy would fall asleep, so that Severus could extricate himself.
“What if I need to use the lavatory?” he said, voice lowered, so as not to disturb Harry who grew heavier in his arms which hopefully meant that he was falling asleep.
Poppy shrugged again. “Hold it.”
“Hold it!” Severus exclaimed and stilled when Harry whimpered and ducked his head. “You cannot be serious,” he added in a hushed tone, while shifting the boy a bit higher on his hip. He really weighed next to nothing.
Poppy braced her hands on her hips, looking down her nose at Severus, even though she was barely half his size. “Severus Snape, it’s Christmas and that boy has been through enough already and for some reason has chosen you to feel safe with. Now stop whinging like a baby and help a boy in need, would you?”
The words shouldn’t have struck him like they did and he was sure his responding scowl lacked conviction.
“And besides,” Poppy continued. “Human contact helps with healing.”
Severus scoffed. “Where did you get that idea from?”
“I read it somewhere.”
Severus arched a brow. “Oh really.” But he did sit down again with a lap full of sick and feverish boy.
“Yes,” she said, completely unimpressed. “I did.” She wrapped a blanket around the boy’s thin shoulders, ignoring Severus’s scowl.
But her words had him thinking. Was this the reason the boy wouldn’t let go? Because he had some instinctive knowledge of what would heal him best? Could one get sick from too little human contact? Something tickled his memory, something about a Muggle experiment on orphans. All he could remember, however, was that the wet nurses hadn’t been allowed to show the children any kind of love and that the children had all died. It sounded more like a legend, but didn’t any legend hold a grain of truth? But then, Severus had survived just fine. He would have to look it up, otherwise the thought would just keep pestering him.
“He seems small for his age,” Severus said into the silence, caught himself stroking a hand over the boy’s unruly hair and abruptly stopped himself.
“I fear he is,” Poppy said sadly.
Severus gave her a questioning look.
“Malnourished children usually experience stunted growth because the body channels all energy into staying alive.”
Severus pressed his lips together, turning his gaze to Harry’s pale face. The boy had finally succumbed to exhaustion, a slight crease still between his brows that not even sleep had been able to smooth. But when Severus tried to pry his fingers off his robes, the boy whimpered, clinging tightly, and Severus gave up. What a strange little boy to latch onto Severus of all people. Weren’t children supposed to be able to sense danger? Perhaps Harry’s sense of danger had been skewed growing up in that house.
With a few books and an owl order catalogue Poppy had acquired for him open on the bed, he settled in to wait until the boy grew tired of sleeping on him, whilst perusing the pages of the catalogue, wondering about all the things an eight-year-old boy might need.
*.*.*
It was early in the morning—the sky was still dark outside but that didn’t mean much in December—when Albus made an appearance. Severus was a bit surprised that he hadn’t come sooner. Perhaps he’d been out and about, traipsing about the countryside doing blazes-knew-what.
Severus braced himself, the lack of sleep from a night serving as an armchair for a clingy, sick boy not helping his mood in the slightest.
“Severus, what have you done?” Albus’s voice was low and soft, yet it made the boy whimper and tighten his thin arms around Severus’s neck. Despite Severus’s best efforts he still wouldn’t let go, so that a simple act as using the loo had posed a more difficult problem than serving as a double agent ever had. “You promised you would leave him alone.”
“I promised no such thing,” Severus replied in a hushed tone, feeling anger stir deep in his belly. “I promised you I would leave him alone if I found him well and cared for. Which, as you can see for yourself, I did not.”
“Children get sick, you should not have—”
“He was locked up in a cupboard,” Severus interrupted in a tight voice and then wished he’d kept his mouth shut when Harry flinched.
Albus blinked. “I beg your pardon?”
“Poppy,” Severus said when the nurse approached with a disapproving frown on her face, “would you take him for a moment?”
“Severus, you know…”
“Yes, I do, but he should not hear this.”
“Of course.”
Unlatching the boy from Severus, however, was like trying to wrangle an octopus. As soon as he’d pried one hand off, the other had latched onto Severus’s hair or robes again.
“Harry, please. Let go.”
Silent tears were streaming down the boy’s face, as he shook his head frantically, giving Severus a pleading look. “I’m sorry, daddy,” he whispered. “I’ll be good.”
The words rang in the sudden silence that followed. Poppy who was usually utterly unflappable no matter what came her way looked shocked. Severus closed his eyes and instinctively hugged the boy closer, turning his back on Albus and taking a few steps away to have some privacy.
“I’ll be back, I promise,” he murmured and after a moment’s hesitation stroked the boy’s hair. “I returned every time I said I would, didn’t I? I need you to stay with Madam Pomfrey for a moment, so that I can talk to the headmaster.”
Harry went limp, all the fight leaving him all of a sudden, so that Severus nearly dropped him. He walked back to the bed and carefully set the boy down, who immediately curled in on himself like a little hedgehog, then traded places with Poppy, trying not to let the sad green eyes that followed him get to him.
“There, there,” he heard Poppy murmur as the poor boy started weeping silent tears. He did most things quietly. It was unnerving. “He’ll be back in a jiffy, you’ll see.” She stroked his hair.
“Better be quick,” Severus said briskly, putting some distance between himself and the boy, but staying close enough, so that the boy could still see him, then throwing up a silencing charm.
“What is wrong with him?” Albus asked, glancing at the boy.
Severus folded his arms in front of his chest, giving Albus a challenging look. “Pneumonia. Malnourishment. We found bruises on him as well.”
Albus blinked. “Pneumonia? But that is a Muggle disease.”
“You can ask Poppy if you do not believe me.”
Albus waved a hand. “It is not that. But … he does have magic, doesn’t he?”
“Examining him for magic was not our first priority, Albus,” Severus said acidly.
“No, of course not.” He gave Harry another concerned look. “You will have to bring him back as soon as he is better, Severus.”
“No.”
Albus turned a startled gaze on Severus. “I beg your pardon?”
“He’s not going back.”
“Now, now, Severus. You do not understand. He has to go back. It is the only place he is safe.”
Severus scoffed. “Safe? If that family is your definition of safe I do not want to know what unsafe would mean.”
“You do not understand, Lily’s sacrifice warded him against Voldemort. But those wards need to be strengthened by familial love.”
Severus snorted. “Well, then I wouldn’t count on them if I were you. There is no love lost between Petunia and the boy, I can assure you.”
“Some misunderstanding, I am sure. Perhaps you came at an inconvenient moment and are now blowing things out of proportion. The way things were for you are very rare—”
Severus let his arms drop, taking a step closer to Albus. “No. There is no misunderstanding,” he snarled. “I know what I saw. And this has nothing to do with my own experiences. That fat child of hers was sitting in the living room, surrounded by presents while Harry was locked in a cupboard! Severely ill! And when I asked them for his things Petunia gave me a blank look. All I found was a broken toy soldier. And her husband had the audacity to demand the blanket I had wrapped Harry in and then told me good riddance. Tell me, Albus, does that sound like a misunderstanding?”
For the first time a troubled expression entered Albus’s gaze. “Surely…” he began and then trailed off.
“Did you ever take the time to actually talk to Petunia? To check in on the boy?”
“Minerva observed them for a few days,” Albus replied absently.
“And what did she have to say?”
Albus wouldn’t meet his gaze.
“I see,” Severus said. “He’s not going back.”
“Severus—”
“No.”
Albus turned to Severus, studying his face. “But where should he go?”
“We’ll find him a nice wizarding family.” Severus shrugged and added darkly, “Anything will be better than Petunia.”
Poppy called him then and with one last challenging look at Albus he hurried back.
Harry was curled up on the bed, once more coughing his lungs out, his narrow face wet with tears. Poppy was bent over him, murmuring reassurances but when she tried to touch him the boy shrank away, hiding under the blankets.
Severus strode to the bed, taking Poppy’s place, feeling completely out of his depth. Well, he couldn’t make it much worse than it was already, could he?
“Harry,” he said, softening his voice as much as he was able to. “May I touch you?”
Bleary eyes peeked out from underneath the blankets, eyes that were full of suspicion and longing. “Daddy?” he finally rasped out between coughs.
Severus hadn’t known that his black heart would be capable of feeling anything, much less pain like this. “No, Harry, I’m not your dad.”
The boy’s face fell. “Oh,” he breathed and promptly started coughing again. His small hand, however, started inching over the blanket towards Severus who carefully reached out and when the boy didn’t tense, took that small hand in his. His skin was hot as a furnace. No wonder that he continuously thought Severus to be his father. He was probably delirious.
“Harry, you need to take your medicine.”
“You,” Harry whispered.
It took Severus a moment to puzzle out the meaning of that one word. “Why me?”
“Mum sent you.”
A strange shiver trickled down Severus’s spine like a ghostly touch, but when he turned around there was no one there but Poppy Pomfrey and Albus, still lurking in the corner like a boggart. Severus ignored him, turning back to the boy. “I promise you, Madam Pomfrey is a very nice woman. She is a nurse who only wants you to feel well again.”
Harry shook his head and Severus gave up. Stubborn boy. Perhaps they would have more luck once he felt better. Yes, it was probably just the fever that made him so clingy.
“I will help you sit up now.” He wrapped an arm around the boy who tensed briefly before relaxing into Severus’s hold. Severus realised his mistake a moment later when the boy snuggled into him like a kitten, fingers curling into Severus’s robes once more. Severus sighed. Seemed like he would be in for another round of serving as an armchair. Oh well.
Lily, the things I do for you…
Severus took the potions from Poppy and then fed them to the boy. Once the potions were gone, the boy wrapped his arms around Severus’s neck and after a moment’s hesitation, Severus picked him up, carefully rubbing the boy’s back until the coughing eased. Really, one would think the boy would have more sense after growing up in a cupboard. Couldn’t he sense that Severus was a man to be feared and avoided at all costs?
It was then that his eyes shifted back to Albus who was watching them with a peculiar look on his face. There was sorrow in his bright blue eyes, but also something more, a gleam, a spark of something that told Severus the old man was scheming again. Severus hoped it only meant Albus was merely considering homes best be suited for the boy. He didn’t want to think about what else could put that gleam in Albus’s eyes. Nothing good, surely.