Little Problems

Rain pattered gently down from the windy overcast of the Hogwarts grounds. Deep puddles had formed along the cobble path within the inner gates. 

Severus hung his head in thought as he paced down the glistening stone, his brow deeply creased and his mind a mess.

What ulterior motive did this witch have for him? What would it mean to be her subject of study? Why had she held onto him after he revealed his identity? How such a revelation had not been disturbing to her was beyond him.

He mulled over what little he knew about her, apart from academics. The mother duck of the Potter trio. He didn’t know her personality, her morals, likes, or dislikes. Really, she was a perfect stranger.

And yet he felt a warming comfort in her touch that he didn’t quite understand. 

Doubt and uncertainty swam unpleasantly in his belly.

The rain began to let up as he neared the doors, allowing small patches of sunlight to shine warmly over the darkened greenery of the Scottish Highlands.

Severus looked up at the imposing castle. It was large. Far larger than he thinks he has ever seen it.

Soon it would be full of children and he would have to be among them.

He ground his jaw, before ducking into the shelter of the castle.

The air inside was still, but the occasional roll of thunder in the distance still managed to reach his ear. He made his way through the winding hallways, avoiding the sound of staff as he made his way up to his appointed bedroom, which Minerva had given him the first day he arrived. It was situated on the floor above the treasure room, just below the Deputy Headmaster’s quarters, and near the Headmistress’s office.. 

Presumably, it had little to do with the availability of the room and more to do with its proximity to Minerva and the Deputy. He was lucky to not have encountered either on his journey to his sanctuary.

But perhaps it was still too soon to assume he was in the clear.

A cool masculine voice came from up ahead as the door to his quarters came into view. 

“Mister Prince.”

Severus produced a small gasp and silently cursed to himself. Leaned against the doorframe to his quarters was a man of medium build who resembled Snape’s adult self somewhat, but shorter.

“Sharp. What do you want?” Snape knew this man. He had met him briefly when Minerva had brought him to his room. The Deputy Headmaster narrowed his gaze and stood from against the door, leaning heavily on his good leg. Severus’s heart beat a fraction of a second faster at the marginal approach despite being a couple of meters away from the man.

“You will address me as Professor , Mister Prince. I will not be so lenient to your disrespectful behavior as our sweet Headmistress.” His eyes flashed a warning, but Severus held his own. His own onyx eyes stared defiantly back into his dark brown ones.

Before this point, they hadn’t spoken more than a handful of words to each other. They had barely even spared eachother a glance as they passed by one another in the narrow, empty corridor infront of the headmisstress’s office this morning.

I will not be afraid.

There was no reason to be afraid of him, especially being that he was Minerva’s Deputy. Severus eyed him up and down. Not like he’s much of a threat, hobbling around like that. 

Whatever injury he had befallen, it seemed to pain him quite badly, even if he didnt let it show.

“What do you want, Professor Sharp ?” He growled through gritted teeth, but his heart began to flit within its cage, as if his very soul anticipated something dreadful to follow his sass.

Aesop took a moment to observe Severus with dark eyes before relaxing his brows somewhat.

“The headmistress has asked me to inform you that she will be gone for the next week before the start of the school year.” he paused to take a couple of struggled steps forward. The creeping light from the window behind Severus illuminated the wizard’s dark features.

“Gone..?” Severus thought he might have imagined the words at first, but no, he had said them. 

“And, that while not in Miss Granger’s care, you will be in mine.” He finished evenly, ignoring his question altogether.

“No.” Severus blurted unbidden with disbelief.

“Yes, truly devastating.” He grumbled sarcastically. The resemblance was uncanny at times...

“I also had personal business with Miss Granger but it seems she has left your company, so that will be all for now.” With that, he turned to go up the stairs, not bothering to see how he even takes the news or if he has questions.

Well that’s just great, isn’t it?

Severus heaved an exasperated sigh as he slammed the door to his quarters shut behind him. It was only twelve, yet he felt like a week's worth of action had occurred in the past hour.

He flicked his wand, releasing the rope-bound curtains on his left to shield away the encroaching sunlight that threatened his safe space. The subsequent darkening helped to somewhat quell the raising tension in his chest, but not nearly enough.

Minerva would be gone for a whole week. She had left him in the custody of a complete stranger, and a loony witch was trying to steal him away to run tests on him like a lab rat.

Severus felt terribly alone.

His feet led him through the pre-furnished, stale dwelling and into the bedroom through the far door. A single light flickered to life by the door as he passed it, illuminating the antiquated furnishings with a dull orange glow.

Peeling off his cape, he tossed both new garments into a small stasis chamber, casting a cooling charm on them and abandoning his old one on the dirty bedroom floor.

He allowed his body to fall forward into the old bed. A fine mist of dust drifted up into the air, but Severus did not care. He’d been sleeping like this for about a week now, but it didn’t matter much to him. He felt terrible either way.

He gathered the thick duvet into his face and began to weep deeply into it.

Little Snivellus has been left all alone. How Pathetic. Taunted a deep, familiar, adult voice within his mind.

He sucked in a breath and raised his head, steeling his own expression as he attempted to occlude away his rampant emotions, but the magic didn’t spark. The library of his mind failed to take shape. A formless nebula of interlocking experiences now floated freely in his mind where there was once order.

An order he had carefully crafted in his mind to ensure he felt nothing. Ever.

His eyes were drawn towards the mirror near his wardrobe, which revealed to him the red-faced boy in his room. He looked utterly pitiful. Just a scared child attempting to put on a brave face.

Dismayed by the sight, he sighed, dropping his head down slightly. His gaze landed on his sleeve, where the jobberknoll luster glimmered gently in the low light of the single wall lamp.

She said she would help him get out of this mess. Did she mean it?

He had never seen any indication that Miss Granger was anything but dependable and capable. Surely he could depend on her, the witch who had managed to gain the unwavering trust of Minerva, the most skeptical woman alive.

He brought his nose down towards the shimmer on his sleeve and took a tentative sniff of the glittery substance.

A warm feeling enveloped him. It was Hermione, holding him protectively into her side as she shielded him away from the loud and daunting crowd.

It had been an embarrassing experience. He hadn't wanted her to touch or help him, but she did, and it had helped.

It felt safe. 

He dropped his head into the sleeve, allowing the sensation to comfort him. He closed his eyes to daydream of honey-eyed jobberknolls. He hadn’t even realized he fell asleep until a loud knock ripped him from his slumber.

Startled, he shot up and promptly slid off the bed. His heartbeat began its rampage once more. Swallowing down his sudden fear, he made his way to the door as another knock wrapped at it with less patience than the last. 

Briskly, Severus threw it open to see Aesop Sharp raising a brow at the sight of his messy visage. At his side, Hermione Granger. 

Severus’s eyes widened fractionally at seeing her. The memory of how he had fallen asleep came rushing back. The tips of his ears turned bright pink, barely visible through his messy, sleep-tousled raven locks. 

The ghost of a smile played across her features as her gold-speckled whiskey eyes bore into his own. He wondered how it was possible that he had felt safe in her arms when her eyes made him feel so exposed.

“I trust you had a restful nap, Mister Prince?” 

Severus blinked his attention away from the pretty witch and towards the deep, cool voice that had spoken. Sharp leaned heavily on his un-injured leg, glowering down at the nap-ruffled boy. Severus shuffled the tiniest step away from him. He only hoped Hermione wasn’t seeing straight through him again.

“Miss Granger’s come to join us for lunch. Come along to the great hall.” Aesop grumbled. 

“Actually, I wondered if I might have a word,” Hermione spoke, catching the wizards' attention. Sharp eyed her carefully as she stepped towards the boy, taking control of the conversation.

“May I come in? I’d like to speak with you in private, if that’s alright.” 

Severus glanced from either adult skeptically. His choices were to either take an uncomfortable walk with Sharp to a huge open room full of people he knew or allow Hermione Granger into his embarrassing living space. 

Wordlessly, he stepped back and opened the door further to allow her entry. Hermione looked almost relieved at the invitation.

“You go ahead. We’ll join later, perhaps.” She directed with a sweet tone to the older wizard. Aesop in turn matched her gaze with intent.

“Miss Granger I’d quite like to inquire about hiring you for a task, should you be up to it. I hear your work is quite impressive. Come by my office and have a chat if you’re interested.” 

Severus glanced up at Hermione to see her eyes flick momentarily down to the man’s injured leg.

“I’ll come by soon, Professor Sharp.” With a curt nod, she turned and passed the threshold into his dungeon-like welling.

“It’s a bit dusty in here.” Without even asking, she pulled her wand out from its bed of curls within her frizzled hair and vanished the dust from existence. With another flick, the curtains ripped open.

“Ugh!” Severus exclaimed in disgust as bright, angry sunlight assaulted his sight. He shielded his face with an open palm.

“I sure hope Minerva has given you more information than she’s given me. Her owl was awfully short.” In his temporary blindness, Hermione had managed to transfigure something onto a hairbrush and appear behind him. He stiffed slightly at the sudden sensation of her fingers smoothing his hair over for the second time that day.

She’s touching me again.

He was unable to find his voice until after her hands abandoned his scalp to be replaced with a hair brush.

“Less, seeing as Minerva didn’t see fit to write me an owl at all,” Severus grumbled.

“Oh, that woman. I swear the headmaster’s position is cursed. Everyone who’s been in it becomes far too secretive-“

“Granger?” He interrupted, causing the brush to pause.

“Why are you touching me?” Her hands immediately slipped away, causing something in his heart to long for them back.

“Would you prefer I not touch you?” Her voice was gentle and even behind him.

The question caught him off-guard. He wasn’t quite sure how to answer it. He wasn’t sure he even wanted to grace it an answer. If he did, then the alternative would cease to be an option, and he couldn’t have that. 

“People don’t ever touch me.” Is what he said instead, itching nervously at the part of his scar that trailed up his jaw.

She spoke again after a short contemplative pause.

“Well, I’ll make sure no one knows I brush your hair or hug you in crowds, Alright?” She said almost playfully.

It wasn’t a solution but the statement brought him a strange sense of peace. 

It made him wonder, or hope, that perhaps he could depend on her.

“fine.” Was all he managed in a blank, even tone. The brush resumed the task of taming his hair, and Severus allowed himself to relax his tense shoulders.

“So then, what do you know about this emergency trip Minerva has gone on?”

“Only that she’ll be gone for a week and that she’s left me in the care of Aesop Sharp,” Severus grumbled.

“That crotchety man? Well we can’t have that can we.” She finished with his hair, leaving it in a ponytail once more. 

“I doubt you’d want to come with me, seeing as I’ve been living with the Potters, but perhaps I could arrange to move into the castle. I’m sure Minerva wouldn’t mind.” She began absentmindedly strolling about, vanishing dust and organizing items.

Move into the castle? For me? Severus eyed her incredulously.

“You really do mean to claim me, don’t you?” His lip curled in distaste. Hermione paused to give him her full attention.

“Yes.” She answered with a barely perceivable smirk.

His jaw tensed.

She seemed to gain some kind of sick enjoyment from watching her former professor squirm, even while holding the shameful advantage of being the adult in this situation. 

Well, age hadn’t exactly ever stopped Snape from bullying her when she was a student.

He silently cursed himself. He knew the treatment he subjected to his former students would eventually come back to bite him in the ass one way or another, but he hadn’t expected it to happen like this. 

“I will not be your Guinea Pig.” He said through gritted teeth.

“Nor do I have any intention of being your pet.” He lifted his chin up at her as if to look down his nose at her like he did when she was the small one. 

“What could you possibly gain from helping me? What game have you got up your sleeve, Granger?” His voice fell to a cautious whisper, glancing skeptically between her curious whisky eyes.

“While I admit that I find our new dynamic only slightly amusing -“ She released him from her gaze and took a seat on the couch.

“I promise my intentions are pure.” 

“How reassuring.” He droned sarcastically, his brow set and looking entirely unamused. It was the same deadpan expression Professor Snape often wore.

The corner of Hermione’s lip quirked with amusement for just a moment before smoothing out again. He frowned. What’s so funny?

“Here are the terms of our arrangement.” She started in a surprisingly firm tone. Her full attention was on him now, crossing her legs with relaxed authority.

“I’ll vouch for you, keep you hidden, and help you reverse it. In return, I want every detail of information pertaining to your condition. From the exact circumstances that lead up to it to any changes to your mind or magic.” As intrusive as this sounded, it didn’t seem like he really had much of a choice in this matter. She was not asking, but telling.

“Do I get a say?” He scowled at her.

“Depends.” She answered with a thoughtful expression, her tapping finger at her lip.

"On what?”

“On if you behave.” She gave him a mischievous smile.

He scoffed.

“I am a 49-year-old man.” Said the small boy looking quite severe.

“Please, Severus. You aren’t merely smaller. You know that.”

He ground his jaw because it was true.

“You can’t occlude can you?” Hermione turned her intense gaze onto him, looking quite serious.

He blinked up at her.

“Children under puberty can’t occlude. It is physically impossible for their growing brains to produce such magic. You know that.” She searched his eyes for a moment. 

“I can’t occlude, no.” He admitted, his gaze fixed on a knot on the wall. 

“Poppy cast a charm on me. It said I’m 10.” He frowned at the memory. There was a short pregnant silence as Hermione stared thoughtfully out the window.

“Whatever magic caused this to happen, it’s something immensely powerful. I will not allow such magic to fall into the wrong hands.” She finally spoke, with the authoritative tone of a woman not to be challenged.

Throat feeling quite dry, Severus nodded.

“Come sit, Darling.” She said, suddenly sounding comforting.

His lip curled in distaste slightly at the term of endearment, but he gingerly did as requested, affixing his eyes to the now mysteriously clean floorboards.

“I think you’ll find my sense of duty has not changed in adulthood. I am a witch of my word.” She spoke gently, glancing at him from under her long lashes.

He thought he saw them sparkle.

“And I’ll give you my word now. I’ll take care of you. Anything you need, anything you want. Tell me and I’ll make it happen, within reason, of course. Anything that could help you.” Severus blinked up at her, disbelieving. He found her expression genuine. 

“Why do you care?” He asked carefully, creasing the spot between his brows.

“You helped us and protected us our entire childhood. Why can’t I do the same in return?” She tilted her head at him, for a moment looking much like the little bird that observed him from atop the chiming bell.

Severus pursued his lips, realizing he did not have a response to give her.

“And frankly, how can I not? You’re a tiny version of my grumpy old Hogwarts Potions professor. It’s adorable!”

He frowned deeply at her, his ears turning a gentle shade of pink.

“And I suppose part of this agreement is that I have to endure your incessant teasing?”

“Precisely. I’m glad you understand me.” She smiled and tilted up her shoulder as if it were a compliment, Humor glinted in her tawny eye.

“You’re just as insufferable as ever, Granger.” He growled, voice devoid of all humor.

Her smile didn't falter. Quite suddenly, she clapped her hands together twice.

“Miss Moffit!” 

A crack alerted him to the arrival of Minerva’s house elf. A lithe elf with huge purple eyes and one limp ear. Miss Moffit was a free-employed elf. She wore a dress and sported the title of ‘Miss’ upon her own request. 

“How can Miss Moffit be of service to Miss Granger?” Moffit sang pleasantly.

“Miss Moffit, can you tell us about where Headmistress McGonagall has gone?”

“Yes! Headmistress has gone to Romania to retrieve an artifact that will be most useful for Miss Granger and Mister Prince! But what this artifact is, she did not say.”

“How curious. Whatever this item is, she must have thought it quite important to us to leave just a week before the start of the school year.”

Severus nodded silently in agreeance.  It was quite unlike Minerva's to prioritize anything over her school. 

Hermione dug into her enchanted clutch purse and produced a letter, handing it to Severus.

‘Dear Miss Granger,

Albus has informed me of something that requires my immediate attention. Feel free to my house elf.

Please look after Liam Prince.’

~ Headmistress M. McGonagall

“Liam Prince…” he tried the name out loud.

“Severus Snape has an uncle who passed away 7 years ago in America, during which time he could have sired an heir. ‘Liam Prince’ is his fake son, named after Severus Snape’s grandfather; Liam Severus Prince. A name most convenient for slip-ups!” Miss Moffit explained, looking quite pleased with herself. She must have researched for this name herself.

“I wasn’t aware,” Snape responded blandly. 

“Miss Moffit, could you please bring us Albus Dumbledore’s Portrait and some lunch please?”

The elf bowed her head and vanished with a pop.

He would be having lunch with Hermione Granger and Albus Dumbledore’s portrait. At the very least he wouldn’t have to set foot in the great hall quite yet.

“Tonight after dinner, when I come back from work and I’ve packed my bags, we’re going to charm your cape and you’re going to tell me all about how this happened.”