The Aftermath
When he reached his own rooms, he pressed Harry’s hand to the door and allowed his wards to adjust to a new person with access before stepping in. There was already a fire crackling in the hearth and a dinner for two had been set on his table, courtesy of the house-elves no doubt. Uncanny, their ability to predict and provide so perfectly. He gently set Harry in his favoured arm chair and stepped back.
“You are currently sitting in my chair next to the fireplace in my living room. I’m going to get you softer clothing and then I’ll be back.” he told Harry before stepping out.
He rummaged through an old trunk with some of his old clothing before coming up with the pyjama set he’d been thinking of. It was indeed soft and smooth, much better than the stiff hospital clothes. He held it up critically. It would definitely be large on Harry’s slight frame so he shrunk it just a bit. If needed he’d shrink it more but it was a close enough start. He walked back out to Harry, intentionally walking a bit louder than normal in order to not scare the boy.
“Thank you, Professor.” Harry said softly.
Snape’s efforts had not gone unnoticed. They were unnerving, not in character with the Snape Harry knew but appreciated all the more for that. As Snape stopped in front of Harry, he gently lay down clothing on Harry’s lap.
“Do these feel soft enough?” Severus asked.
Harry felt the fabric between two fingers, then rubbed it along one of his arms. FInally, he nodded his assent.
“Would you like to try on your own or have me help?”
“I can do it.” Harry said quickly.
A bit too quickly if you asked Snape who narrowed his eyes but again, that was a conversation for later.
“As you wish, I’ll be in the other room. Would you like water or milk with dinner?” he asked.
“Water is fine.” Harry said after a moment.
He listened to Snape walk away, waiting until the footsteps sounded like they were on wood rather than rug before he started undressing. His fingers clumsily undid the buttons and shrugged off the shirt, feeling instant relief when the shirt was no longer touching his skin. He felt around the new shirt for a moment before determining which way to put the shirt on. It also had buttons, but Harry reasoned that this was better so that he wouldn’t have to worry about putting it on backwards. He very carefully felt for the topmost buttons and slowly worked his way down, checking several times to be sure that he didn’t miss any. He tried to fold the other shirt neatly but wasn’t sure how successful his attempts were. The pants were a bit more tricky.
Taking off the old ones was easy enough, as was feeding his legs through the holes, but in order to get them fully up, he had to stand, which was an intimidating concept. He very carefully planted his feet firmly on the ground and then waved his arms about in front of him to make sure he wasn’t about to bump into anything. He didn’t feel anything and so cautiously stood up. He managed to pull up the pants and tie them at the waist fairly well. The clothing was a bit large but not as large as he would have expected if they were Snape’s clothes which he felt they must be.
Once he finished, he was at a loss of what to do. He supposed he could call out for Snape but that would be embarrassing. He could try to follow where Snape had gone but that was intimidating, so he decided to sit back down and wait. He miscalculated, slightly however, and just barely hit the edge of the chair on his way down. He sat down rather hard on the ground, bruising his tailbone and his pride, as well as pushing back the chair with a loud scraping noise. Footsteps hurried into the room and Harry fought the urge to cower, only cringing slightly.
“Oh thank Merlin.” Snape sighed. “I thought you’d managed to hurt yourself.”
He helped Harry to his feet before picking him up again.
“Dinner is ready. I’ve already eaten so that I can help you eat as well. I’m sure you’ll pick up the knack of eating blind soon enough but for tonight I’ll help you. After dinner, we’ll have that conversation I had earlier.”
Harry nodded and felt himself deposited in a wooden chair. Snape pushed him in and Harry felt around, finding the corner and edge of the table, his plate and the base of a glass of water. His professor let him explore before moving the plate closer to himself. Harry could hear the sound of silverware on porcelain and assumed that Snape must be cutting up his food.
“Dinner tonight is cooked broccoli, chicken, and roasted potatoes. You were given a rather small plate from the kitchens but we can always call for seconds if you’d like. I’ll try to remember to let you know what I’m giving to you before each bite, that way you’re not surprised.”
Harry nodded and turned his head towards his professor's voice.
“May we start with the broccoli first? I don’t like when it becomes cold.”
“Indeed we may. Ready?”
Harry nodded and opened his mouth. Snape placed the fork in his mouth but allowed him to take the food and chew. Harry opened his mouth again when he was ready and he slowly and steadily ate through his broccoli first, then the chicken, and finally the potatoes. Snape had said it wasn’t much food but by the time he was finished he was completely full. Snape offered seconds but Harry shook his head and sat back. He felt like he might burst. He was grateful that it wasn’t the normal, rich Hogwarts fare. He ate more than he usually did, mostly because he didn’t want his Professor to catch on that something was out of sorts with him. If it had been the heavy food of the main hall, Harry might not have been able to finish and certainly would have felt sick.
He heard Snape stand up and the plate placed into a sink. He waited a moment longer as the footsteps returned to him and his chair was pulled back. Snape lifted him once more and they walked back into the living room. Harry was placed in a different chair this time. He was surprised to realise that he had noticed the warmth of the fire on the opposite side that it had been on when he was changing. Normally Harry would have never noticed or cared about that but right now it felt like it was of the utmost importance. Snape settled into a chair roughly across from him and sighed. Harry immediately sat up straighter and looked (he hoped) in the direction of his professor.
“You said we needed to talk?” Harry asked with only slight anxiety present in his voice.
“We do.” Snape paused and gathered his thoughts while examining the boy in front of him. “I saw the scars.” he finally said and waited for Harry's reaction.
Harry did not disappoint and immediately tensed up.
“How?!” he asked harshly.
Snape leaned forward, intrigued. This was not how he’d expected the boy to react. Denial? Sure. Excuses? Definitely. How? Not quite so expected. It meant Harry intentionally tried to hide them and was undoubtedly rather successful.
“I’m not entirely sure, Harry. I know that I was the only one who did. Pomfrey was unable to see them. I checked. Do you use glamorous?”
Harry sat for a moment, obviously trying to think of how to proceed. It was a bit too late to try to deny. Finally, his body sagged and he buried his face in his hands.
“Yes. Have since before I knew what magic was. Just got better when I knew what I was doing. You’re the only person to ever see through them and I don’t know how. I’ve been to Pomfrey dozens of times and she's never once seen them. None of the boys in my dorm have either. Not even Fred when he accidentally walked in on me changing at the Burrow.”
“We can figure out the ‘how’ later.” Snape said gently. “I want to talk about where, how, and when you got them. And I know they aren’t all, or even mostly, from your time here at Hogwarts. And if you tell me the truth, I can make sure you never have to go back to wherever you’re getting these from again.”
Harry sighed a soul wearied sigh and sat up again but curled up in the chair rather than sit properly. He might as well be comfortable physically for what was going to be a very uncomfortable conversation.
“My uncle is the one who’s inflicted most of these scars. Some were from my cousin as well but not until the more recent ones. They hated magic and they hated my parents so naturally they hate me as well. I’ve been a burden to them since the day I was left on their doorstep but Dumbledore said something about bloodwards protecting me. Then, after I killed Voldemort, he said he didn’t have anywhere else to stay. I thought about asking the Weasley’s but they have enough strain with just their own family and I couldn’t impose on them like that.”
Severus’ supposedly cold heart broke for the boy in front of him and he wanted to stop right there and try to fix everything but knew he needed to keep pushing.
“And is there a reason your body is so slight and bordering on malnutritioned?”
Harry nodded again.
“Back home, I’m only fed leftovers, and only when they deem I’ve been good enough. If there aren’t leftovers, I’m fed a slice of bread. If I haven’t been good, I go without food entirely. I’m actually doing much better right now than I will at the start of next term. I can’t eat much here though, my body can’t get used to the richness of Hogwarts food and so I can’t eat as much or as often as everyone else.”
“One final question,” Snape said, already dreading the answer. “Your Uncle and Aunt… are they your mothers sister and her husband?”
Harry nodded and Snape cursed. He got up and paced for a minute before summoning a piece of parchment and quill and writing a strongly worded letter to McGonagall. She would undoubtedly take this matter very seriously and do what needed to be done to keep Harry here, at least for the summer so that they could work things out long term. He had just signed and sealed the letter, sending it to her chambers when Harry hiccuped.
Snape looked up sharply and realised with horror that Harry was silently crying. His shoulders shook with his sobs but he was utterly silent. It unnerved Severus completely. He quickly moved to Harry’s side and placed a hand on his knee.
“Hey buddy, what's the matter?” he hadn’t meant to throw in the pet name but he couldn’t take it back now.
“Dubledors going to tell them that I told you and it's going to hurt so bad. Uncle almost killed me last summer over something small. He might actually kill me now. I don’t want to go back and have to face that again, or Dudley’s hunting, or Aunts screaming. I have to do it Every. Single. Summer. And it's so hard. I know I shouldn’t complain because they give me a roof, and clothes, and food enough to live but it's terrible! I’d rather die than go back. I even tried but I couldn't, he found me before I could and he took away the blade before I could finish and then beat me for it.”
Severus completely broke at Harry’s last sentence and felt his own tears dripping down his face as he picked up Harry and sat in the chair to hold the boy close and hug him. Harry’s body shook and the occasional whimper found its way out but aside from that, the room was silent save for the crackling fire. Severus let Harry cry for as long as he needed to. Merlin knows Harry needed the release. Finally, the shaking diminished and the tears slowed to just an occasional tear and Harry lay limp against Severus again. Severus didn’t move away yet, however. Instead he rubbed Harry’s back and hummed an old song that he honestly couldn’t remember the words too. It seemed to soothe Harry and after a while he drifted off to sleep.
Severus still remained there by the fire, wondering what on earth he ought to do now. Harry needed to sleep, and preferably in a bed, he was concerned about leaving the boy unattended. He had a guest room but it hadn’t been used since Draco was just a baby, still in a crib. He could transfigure the crib into a bed, he supposed, but he was also worried about Harry rolling off the bed. Pomfrey had called him into the Hospital wing nearly every time he had to stay overnight so that he could erect a magical barrier around the boy’s bed to keep him from flailing off in the middle of a nightmare or sometimes even just simply rolling off. A crib wouldn’t be the worst thing, especially since Harry’s magic had a habit of wearing down anyone else’s rather quickly. He’d have to resize it of course, but not incredibly too much.
While he was thinking about that, he absentmindedly shrunk Harry’s clothes just a bit more. He’d noticed earlier in the night but had forgotten to fix it. He could also set up a monitoring charm that would wake him up if Harry woke up, or started crying, having a nightmare, or anything else. Having made his decision, Severus stood slowly and carefully, trying not to wake up Harry. He walked to the guest room and pushed open the door. The lights immediately came on and Snape once again silently thanked the house elves. It should have been dusty and stale smelling but everything was spotlessly clean and smelled fresh. The crib stood on the opposite wall and looked bigger than Severus remembered. Big enough to easily fit Harry. His mind briefly entertained the idea of the castle altering itself for Harry but dismissed it. That kind of sentient magic from the castle was just a rumour and nothing more. The crib already had soft sheets and an even softer blanket was draped over the already lowered rail.
Severus gently lay Harry down and arranged the boy to be more comfortable, with his head on a plush pillow. He draped the blanket over him and pulled up the railing, pausing for a moment to observe the child. His face was thin and tired. Dark circles lived under his eyes and tears and snot had crusted in his cheeks. Severus cleaned it all with a quick spell and then smoothed back the unruly black hair. It really was just like Jame’s hair. He cast the monitoring charm and then dimmed the lights before leaving, keeping the door open just in case.
The potions master returned to his arm chair by the fire and sat down heavily. What a long day it had been. He was still angry but now filled with more sadness and regret. He and James had had a rocky start and if James hadn’t stumbled across Severus in the middle of an episode, they might not have ever reconciled. He could still remember it like it had happened just yesterday, rather than twenty years ago.
Flashback:
Severus looked around warily, making sure no one was near enough to him to see anything. Satisfied that no one was even remotely close, he slipped under the quidditch stands. He crawled down a ways to his little nook (though a nook may have been misleading since it generally implies some sort of warmth or comfort, whereas this was merely the smallest, and darkest corner Severus could find.) He cast a lumos and reached into his pocket to shakily pull out the letter. His fathers scrawl was lopsided and untidy. He’d been drunk again no doubt. Snape didn’t want to read it but he knew if he didn’t and he didn’t respond to his father, he’d be punished for it when he got home this summer.
He opened the letter with trembling hands and began to read the drunk tirade from his father. Phrases like “freak” and “don’t deserve to live” jumped out at him. His father blamed him for his mother’s death (nothing new but eternally painful) and called him a burden. The letter ended nearly per usual with various threats of violence but not like usual with a notice of being kicked out just tacked on. Specifically the words “You are forbidden from coming home at the end of your term. If you dare to show your face here again I will beat you until you wish for death but I will not even be that kind.”
Severus gasped and sat in shock. He knew he was abused. He’d known since he was a young child but even then, he’d at least not been homeless. He’d had a roof over his head in the summers, and food, meagre though it was. Without even that he had no idea what to do. He didn’t have a penny to his name, wouldn’t until he became of legal wizarding age. No friends to stay with, not even mere acquaintances. He was completely and utterly alone. He began to hyperventilate, unable to breath as he felt the normally comforting beams of the stands close in on him. He was unable to sustain his light through the panic and it went out, only sending him into deeper distress. He was so caught up in the noise in his head that he didn’t hear footsteps approaching him, or the voice asking him repeatedly what's wrong. He didn’t notice anything until an arm circled around his shoulders and a light was reignited. And then, all he could do was freeze in shock.
James Potter, his tormentor and rival sat beside him, trying to comfort him. He couldn’t even remember to let out the breath he was holding until he passed out and slumped over. He never asked how James reacted to his fainting or how James even found him. All he knew was that by the time he came around, he was being carried into Hogwarts. It was past curfew and no students were about for which Severus was grateful but he squirmed to be put down nonetheless.
“I can walk.” he whispered and James stopped walking.
Sevrus was carefully set back down on his feet and he swallowed thickly. James just studied him, as if seeing the other boy for the first time.
“I’m okay, you can go now. It was just a panic attack.” Severus said and waited for James to leave him and return to whatever he’d been doing.
“I read the letter… I’m sorry. I didn’t realise things were so bad for you at home. I just assumed you were spoiled. Didn’t realise I couldn’t be further from the truth. I- I’m sorry. I owe you a huge apology and I hope eventually you might forgive me for being such a jerk all these years.” James looked at him steadily as he apologised with clear regret in his eyes.
Any other day Snape would have laughed in James’ face. Today however, Severus couldn’t find it in him to fight against anything anymore, even an apology from his bully.
“I do forgive you.” Severus said simply and turned to go down to his common rooms.
“Wait,” James said and grabbed his shoulder. “Lily is sick and I’m doing the rounds on my own tonight. Do you maybe want to come with me?”
Snape considered for a moment then nodded. The last thing he wanted after a panic attack that extreme was to be alone with his thoughts. James grinned and stood up straight.
“First things first, though,” he said and winked at Severus. “I’m famished, let's go raid the kitchens.”
Severus felt the faintest of smiles tugging at the corner of his mouth and he ducked his head to hide it. James slung an arm around his shoulders and steered them to the kitchens, chatting the entire time. End of Flashback
That night had likely saved Severus. He hated to think what could have happened otherwise. As he reflected, he pulled out the old letter from his robes pocket. Not the one from his father but the one from James about being Harry’s godfather. James had been so excited! He had taken Severus in, that day, and treated him like a brother. James reasoned that this way, they would basically be brothers and Harry was the combining link. Lily had exasperatedly tried to reason with him about how that's not at all how it would work but James was undaunted and Lily couldn’t try too hard since she had also grown quite fond of Severus. This letter was the last that they had sent before they had been killed. As he stared at it he resolved to find a way to make Harry his and give him the kind of life Lily and James would have wanted for the boy. He should be as free from pain and danger as humanly possible and want for nothing, certainly not food and affection.
It hadn’t been lost on Severus the way Harry had leaned into the slightest of touches. The child was undoubtedly touch starved, a feeling he remembered all too well and promised to eradicate. After musing for a while longer, a response from McGonagall arrived. She was appalled and furious with Dumbledore. Made him smile, actually. She apparently had had her doubts from the very beginning and Albus had assured her again and again that Harry was quite well. She stated in her tirade that she was going above the old man, straight to the board of educators and if they didn’t listen, then to Kingsley who was now minister. She would see to it that Harry never had to go back to his old house or so called family and thanked Severus for keeping an eye on the boy for now. She was aware that Severus was supposed to be Harry’s guardian and promised that she’d make it happen. He penned back his own thanks and an invitation to tea before calling it a night. Brooding only got you so far and he was sure he’d need rest and strength for what was to come.