The Displaced Orphan
Some lines between Severus and Sirius are taken from Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix.
Severus squinted as he held a vial of bright turquoise potion up to his face and examined it with a critical eye. Discreet crimson ribbons could be seen woven in the blue upon closer inspection and speckles of gold glimmer were spread evenly through the liquid. The potion was as thick as maple syrup and gave off an aroma of licorice combined with the overwhelming smell of too much perfume. It burned his throat without him even having to taste it, although he had already drunk countless samples for the sake of his research.
Severus had barely slept and hadn’t even left his house in the weeks since he had returned from Hogwarts. Perhaps knowing his proximity to Dumbledore was less frequent during the summer holidays, the Dark Lord hadn’t summoned him and Severus had been given a welcome reprieve and the time he needed to heal and perfect his creation. He had added harralander after his initial trial to help combat the drowsiness effects from the properties of a calming draught and had gradually increased the amount of salamander blood used until he was satisfied that it was potent enough to strengthen the mind and make it less susceptible to invasion.
It was not a short-cut to Occlumency, but Severus believed it to be highly proficient at getting the mind into the right condition to shield and defend itself most effectively. It made the drinker both calm and alert simultaneously, more conscious of intrusion, and muddied the thoughts to ensure anyone performing Legilimens would be unable to get a clear picture even if they did successfully break through. In short, Severus was confident that his potion would give Potter a good base to begin learning Occlumency and a safety net if he failed.
“Insisto Stabilis,” Severus muttered, pointing his wand at the steaming cauldron he’d been leaning over obsessively since sometime before daybreak.
He hadn’t even heard the barking dog outside his house until he set the vial he’d been scrutinizing down on his desk and got up for the first time in hours to stretch. His concentration had been so absolute and impenetrable as he’d worked, but now he was alert to the persistent howls and the sound of a paw scratching on the panel of his front door.
Feeling irritated, Severus waved his wand around the room at the floor, table, and chairs that lay buried under flasks of potion ingredients and strews of parchment where he had written and rewritten his observations. In a swish of his wand all his stores were put away and his papers lay stacked on the desk in a neat pile. Then he walked out of the room, tucking his wand discreetly up the sleeve of his grey sweater, thinking that if this was the same dog that belonged to the muggle children across the road that had gotten loose and nearly hit by a car last Saturday, that he was going to have to have words.
However, upon reaching the front door, Severus discovered that it was not the neighbour’s pet that was disturbing his peace. His face broke into a scowl as he looked down at the growling black dog. “Whatever gave you the impression that you’d be welcome here, Black?”
“Pretty rich coming from someone who’s spent his entire life being neither wanted nor welcomed by anyone anywhere, Snivellus,” Black snarled, once he had pushed his way into the house and transformed back into a man. “I’m here about Harry.”
Severus had his teeth tightly clenched together as he locked the front door once again and felt a fresh stab of resentment towards Dumbledore, who was the only person who could have told Black where he lived and provided him access.
Spinner's End was not under a Fidelius Charm, because it would be highly suspicious to the Dark Lord if Severus’s house suddenly disappeared. Instead Dumbledore had created a carbon copy of Spinner’s End in the derelict place’s own image with a deceptive false front for those not under his authority. With quick work, in a matter of minutes, this house was under the allegiance of Albus Dumbledore’s own magical signature, and transparently visible to Severus’s enemies. But all that Dumbledore had cared about was ensuring Harry Potter’s protection during his lessons.
“How very touching,” Severus said softly, his face hot with anger as he watched the other man looking contemptuously around the drab setting of his home. “I’m sure Potter would be forever grateful if his godfather got caught and sent back to Azkaban, all for the sake of putting on some gallant show for him when he isn’t even here.”
“But he will be soon,” Black countered, “so let me make myself very clear - if I hear that you are using these Occlumency lessons to give Harry a hard time, you’ll have me to answer to.”
“How touching,” Severus sneered. “But surely you have noticed that Potter is very like his father?”
“Yes, I have,” said Black proudly.
“Well then, you’ll know he’s so arrogant that criticism simply bounces off of him,” Severus said sleekly.
His words had the desired effect of triggering Black, who had whipped out his wand and moved closer to him, squaring up for a fight. Severus took out his own wand, calculatingly observing the opponent before him. Severus didn’t want to fight, but he was no longer the weak little boy that Black and his friends had been able to push around and humiliate whenever it pleased them. Severus knew that he could easily dominate Black now if he had to. This man he despised, who was intruding into his home even though he'd been warned to stay at headquarters.
“Go home, Black,” said Severus, his voice barely above a whisper. “I'm not collecting Potter for his lesson until you do.”
“I don’t take orders from Death Eaters,” Black replied. “I don’t care if Dumbledore thinks you’ve changed, I know better. And I don’t want a Death Eater alone with Harry.”
“You know Dumbledore won't allow Potter at headquarters until he can at least satisfactorily close his mind to the Dark Lord,” said Severus. ‘What do you expect to gain right now besides making my job that much harder than it already is?”
“I don’t give a damn about your job,” Black snapped.
“And I don't give a damn about your pointless theatrics,” Severus said coldly. “Unlike you, I don't have unlimited leisure time. Get out now.”
Black looked like he was going to argue further and Severus was still waiting for him to throw the first hex. He still had his own wand at the ready, gripped tightly in his hand as he resisted the temptation to give Black exactly what he deserved. Severus would have loved to knock Black down on the ground, make him choke on soap bubbles, or hung him up in the air with his pants down in front of a laughing crowd. That still wouldn’t account for a fraction of what had been done to Severus. Things he would never get over. Things that still hurt to this day.
“You can put that away,” Black seethed, motioning to Severus’s wand. “We both know you don’t have the guts. I’ll be writing to Harry tonight and I’ll be back if I don’t like what I hear.”
Black roughly jerked open the door and then once more transformed back into the great black dog. Severus watched him dart across the road towards a narrow alley where he would hopefully be able to disapparate without being detected. Risking it all, but accomplishing nothing, besides ensuring that Severus was feeling increasingly bitter about this most unwelcome assignment.
He stalled going to collect Potter for as long as he could. Making himself a cup of tea and sipping it so slowly that it turned cold before he'd finished. Then Severus washed his cup by hand, the muggle way, followed by an absentminded wipe down of all the kitchen cupboards with their peeling paint and missing door knobs. The process did nothing to calm his mood, and it was with deepest reluctance that he finally dragged himself outside to apparate to Privet Drive.
“BOY!” he could hear a man yell from inside Number Four upon ringing the doorbell.
Severus stood on the porch, sneering as he took in the perfectly trimmed hedges and the sparkling glass windows of the beautifully maintained house. An expensive car was parked in the driveway which didn’t surprise him in the least. It appeared to have just been washed and the bright green lawn and blooming flower beds were clearly well hydrated despite the drought plaguing Britain right now and the calls on all to conserve water.
“Boy, get a move on!” the man inside the house continued to yell. Severus’s impatience was swelling with every second that passed with nobody coming to let him in, but the next remark he overheard was interesting. “We don’t need any of your lot lingering on the front porch. What will the neighbours think?”
Severus could hear the dull drone of a television through the walls and the thudding of heavy footsteps. Finally the lock was turned and the door slowly opened to admit him. Potter stood there, looking miserably pained by the sheer matter of his presence. It might have been amusing, if Severus wasn't feeling exactly the same way.
Turning away from the boy without a word, he glanced over at his aunt and uncle standing in the hallway, and couldn't help but smirk at the look of dawning wonder and confusion spreading across Petunia’s face as she recognized him. The last time that he and Petunia had crossed paths with one another, they had been little more than children.
“What are you doing here?” Petunia demanded, walking down the hallway ahead of her husband with her hands folded over her chest.
“Collecting your nephew for his remedial summer classes,” Severus replied silkily.
It couldn't have been clearer that Petunia's nephew had never spoken the name of the school potions master. Had never given his aunt a chance to put the pieces together and discover that Severus Snape was still quite in the picture. Her shock and irritation was very visible across her bony face, and Severus was mildly amused by the upperhand this now afforded him.
“You--you two know each other?” Vernon stammered, as he moved closer down the hallway. Though his astonishment wasn't nearly as pronounced as Potter’s was. The boy had closed the door behind Severus, but was still holding onto it as his eyes darted between his teacher and aunt.
“He lived nearby our old neighbourhood,” Petunia answered him stiffly. “Used to chum around with her.”
“Indeed,” Severus affirmed in a bored tone, checking his watch and avoiding Potter’s curious eye. “Well, as the letter you were sent by Professor Dumbledore stated, I will be picking him up for lessons as many days as my schedule allows.”
“Not just listen here,” Vernon interjected loudly. “I’m not having the boy coming and going like my house is a ruddy hotel!”
Severus looked calmly into the large face beginning to turn an ugly shade of purple. Though he had never met Vernon Dursley before, his unwarranted rage at a reasonable accommodation was hitting Severus with an uncomfortable taste of Deja vu. He knew only too well what it was like to grow up in a house with a man who would complain about anything pertaining to you just for the sake of complaining.
“Do you have your wand, Potter?” he asked, and the Dursleys both gasped loudly as if he had uttered a disgusting swear word.
“No,” Potter replied. “It’s in my trunk.”
“Then go get it,” Severus said coolly.
“Er -” the boy hesitated, not moving from his place at the door.
Severus frowned as he turned to look into the boy's eyes, the window to the soul. If they ever got out of this foyer, he would provide Potter with a potion and the skills required to shield his mind from invasion, but right now it was a useful informant. At the forefront of Potter’s thoughts was his trunk filled with all of his school stuff and it was tucked away in the cupboard under the stairs. Had Potter been locked in that cupboard before? Severus could glimpse memories of the boy being made to sleep in there on at least a few occasions.
“Is this cupboard locked?” Severus demanded softly, not waiting for a reply before he walked over to it without invitation or even removing his shoes. He tried the handle and observed that it was, indeed, locked. Withdrawing his wand, Severus pointed it at the cupboard door. “Alohomora”.
There was the sudden sound of glass breaking. Severus turned his head in the direction it had come and observed the very fat boy that had been watching from the kitchen. He had dropped a bowl containing a very large serving of ice cream and it had shattered. Glass shards had flown in every which way. Petunia shrieked and rushed over to help her son clean up his mess. Severus easily could have repaired the bowl with a simple wave of his wand, but he didn't bother. Slipping it back up his sleeve, he returned to the door.
“I won't have that under my roof!” bellowed Vernon. “I won't tolerate -”
“Get your wand, Potter,” Severus said in a clipped tone.
Potter obediently did as he asked. Edging carefully around his raging uncle, he opened the cupboard door and dragged his large trunk out into the hall to begin rummaging through its contents.
“You'll take all that rubbish with you, boy,” Vernon shouted. “All of it. I won't have the neighbours asking funny questions about all your comings and goings. You can get out and stay out!”
“Your nephew will be back in time for supper,” Severus said coolly. “While I sympathize with your desire to change your custody arrangement, I'm the last person you should discuss it with.”
“The way your lot discussed it with us before dumping him on our doorstep?” Vernon shot back.
A very awkward silence fell through the house. Petunia had returned from the kitchen, chewing her tongue and looking deeply agitated. Though she at least appeared to be more reasonable than her husband.
“As appalling as Potter’s grades were at the end of term and skeptical as I am that any amount of remedial studies will successfully get through that thick skull of his, that is as far as my responsibility to him goes,” said Severus softly, “and I do have other things to be getting on with.”
“Well, if you bring him back here, it'll be straight to the bus station with him,” Vernon retorted.
“What about Sirius?” Potter spoke suddenly, confirming without doubt that the Dursleys' desire to rid him from their home was mutually shared. He looked entirely unbothered by his uncle's hostility. “He asked me to move in before. Can't I stay with him?”
“No,” Severus said shortly.
He knew that Black would go for that in a heartbeat, but Dumbeldore would be furious with Severus if he brought the boy to headquarters before it was safe. He could hardly allow the Dark Lord to get a clear window into the Order of the Phoenix’s proceedings just because Potter was at odds with his guardians. Besides, none of this was Severus’s problem anyway.
“I'll inform the headmaster of your objections,” Severus told Vernon, withdrawing his wand once again. He pointed it at the trunk on the floor and shrunk it until it was small enough to pick up and fit in his pocket. “Is there anything else you need here, Potter?”
“Hedwig,” Potter said, already starting to pull on his trainers. “My owl’s cage is in my room.”
Severus summoned it with another silent charm. It flew down the stairs towards Potter who grabbed the handle. Then Severus opened the door and they went out together without speaking any word of farewell to the Dursleys. In all the years since their last meeting, Severus had never spared a moment to imagine just who Petunia Evans would grow up to be. However, now that he had seen exactly that, he supposed she was just as expected.