Their Boy
It was very hard to hand Harry over to Snape; more difficult than all the other times they had exchanged him that summer. For this time, it was with the understanding that he was both of theirs now. That somehow fate and circumstances had entwined to show Harry a side of Snape that Sirius had never cared to acknowledge existed before, and he couldn’t pretend that their relationship was all about defeating Voldemort either. It meant admitting that he and James had been relentlessly cruel to the awkward impoverished boy during their school days, and swallowing that truth tonight had come at the price of an even greater decline of Sirius’s own self worth.
“You did the right thing. I’m proud of you,” Remus Lupin said, walking into the blackened kitchen of number twelve Grimmauld Place to find him later that night.
Sirius was sitting alone at the end of the long table with his feet up on the chair beside him. He hadn’t bothered to turn any lights on because he hadn’t wanted anyone to know he was down there. He eyed his friend soberly over the beer can that he was drinking from. There were several empties stacked into a pyramid on the table in front of him, but he was in such a dark place psychologically at the moment that the alcohol barely seemed to have any effect.
“I told you I’d make it right,” he answered gruffly.
“Yes, but that can’t have been easy,” Lupin replied, coming over to pull out a chair and join him. “It will make all the difference to Harry though.”
“That’s why I did it,” Sirius said curtly.
“I know,” said Lupin. “He’s so lucky to have you as his godfather.”
Sirius snorted as he stacked his beer can onto the second tier of his pyramid, and then waved his wand to summon himself another from the refrigerator. He wished he could share in his friend’s sentiments, but he felt like all the evidence was to the contrary. To begin with, he had let Harry down the night that his parents were murdered, by impulsively chasing after Wormtail and getting himself thrown into Azkaban for twelve excruciating years. For most of Harry’s life, he’d been locked away, unable to raise him like James and Lily would have wanted. He’d made them a promise to take care of Harry should anything happen to them and he had failed spectacularly.
“It’s good he went with Snape,” Sirius muttered, cracking open the tab of his fifth beer of the night. “He shouldn’t see me this way. I’m not good for anyone.”
“Well, I know Harry would disagree with you on that,” Lupin replied. “You know perfectly well that he idolizes you."
He took his own wand out now to induce the kettle into boiling water for tea. Some biscuits of Mrs. Weasley’s creation flew over to the table on a heavy plate stamped with the Black family crest and set itself between the two men. ‘Ready to switch it up for the rest of the night, Padfoot?”
“Ah, the voice of reason as always,” Sirius said, with the smallest smile that he was able to coax up for Lupin. “Maybe if I had listened to you more back then, I wouldn’t be in this position now.”
“I didn’t speak up nearly enough,” Lupin protested. “You and James were always two steps ahead of me; myself and Peter were along for the ride. I remember most days at Hogwarts just being completely in awe of how the coolest, smartest, and most talented boys in our year wanted little old me for a friend.”
“Don’t sell yourself short,” Sirius wagged a finger at him in warning. Then he obligingly vanished his beer can pyramid, as well as the full one he had just opened. “Tea would be lovely.”
Lupin could barely contain the relief on his face as he conjured two cups and a saucer of milk from thin air. The tea kettle floated over to them and Sirius grabbed it by the handle. He poured for each of them and waited a few deliberate pauses before voicing what was weighing most heavily on his mind.
“How do you really think James would feel about everything?” he asked.
Lupin considered the question. “It’s hard to say because nothing that’s occurred in the last fourteen years would have happened if James and Lily were alive. Though I think he’d be devastated and angry to know how much you’ve suffered. He’d be upset that Harry was sent to live with Lily’s sister, and even more disappointed that his son had grown up not knowing us. I honestly think he’d be glad that we spared Peter’s life. I don’t think James would have considered him even worth the effort of killing after what a coward he proved himself to be. Mostly, if I imagined James sitting with us now, I think he’d be boasting about how Harry’s inherited his talent on the Quidditch Pitch.”
“Definitely,” Sirius grinned, thinking of the person he’d loved the most in his life made his heart break and swell at the same time. Harry was all that Sirius had left of James, and all he wanted was to do right by him. He silently sipped at his tea, his mind rolling over Remus’s words and agreeing with every single thing that he’d said.
“I couldn’t think about him in Azkaban,” Sirius said quietly. “All those years that I should have been grieving him; but I couldn’t think about how much I loved him, or recall any of our adventures and laughs. I couldn’t even form a picture of what an idiot he used to look when he’d mess his hair up and show off for girls who thought he was cute. It was all wiped away by the Dementors because all my memories of James were happy ones. The only thing they couldn’t take from me was the knowledge that I was innocent, but what good was that when Wormtail got away with betraying him, and the person I’d loved best in the world and his wife were dead?”
“That truth kept you sane,” Lupin said gently. “It meant you were able to fight the Dementors and make it back to Harry.”
“And be of what use to him, exactly?” Sirius asked darkly. “Because being in a prison of Dumbledore’s configuration that allows visiting hours still doesn’t seem like much of an accomplishment. I’m hardly the father that I’d have liked to be.”
“It’s not your fault and it’s not forever,” Lupin said gently. “You just have to trust that Dumbledore knows best.”
This did not have the desired effect he’d hoped for. Sirius glowered more darkly than ever as a shadow overcame his pale sunken face. He reached for one of the biscuits and did not eat it, instead crumbling it in his fist. Then he brushed the crumbs impatiently from his hand and table onto the floor. “Dumbledore isn’t God.”
“No, he’s just the only one Lord Voldemort ever feared,” Lupin replied. “He knows what he’s doing. He doesn’t underestimate any of our sacrifices, not even yours.”
Sirius waved his hand dismissively in the air. Signifying that he did not wish to speak about the Headmaster anymore at the time. For what good would it do? He had never come out ahead during any of his arguments with Albus Dumbledore that summer. Not about his own circumstances, and certainly not when he’d expressed his desire to keep Harry away from Snape. Dumbledore simply did what he wanted.
“And what about Snape?” Sirius asked finally.
“What about him?” asked Lupin.
“You left him out before,” Sirius replied. “When I asked you how James would feel about everything. What would he say about Snape now? And the interest he’s suddenly shown in Harry.”
“I don’t know,” said Lupin quietly. “But I do think that is more Lily’s prerogative. Severus was her friend and I think she’d be relieved to see him working for our side and fixing what drew them apart in the first place. She’d be thankful he’s protected Harry all this time; and I think she’d be happy that he managed to move past what you and James did to him, so that he could do better for her son. She’d want Harry to have all the love in the world from all of us, Severus included. I hope James would feel the same. I think he would.”
“I believe that too,” Sirius admitted reluctantly, as a knot in his stomach tightened.
He could almost imagine Lily threatening to hex him and James into oblivion if they weren’t nice to Snape. She’d tried that unsuccessfully on a few occasions that she’d caught them going after him at school. Lily would have had a lot of respect for the way Snape had turned his life around to work against Voldemort. She’d want him as Harry’s teacher and whatever else Harry now considered him to be. There was no point in pretending otherwise and Sirius had to accept that.
XXX
Meanwhile at Hogwarts, Harry was waking up from a sleep that he didn’t even remember falling into. He peered through his lashes and could make out the blurry image of black robes and the pale white hand of Professor Snape, thumbing through the pages of a book. Feeling groggy and confused, it took Harry a moment to realize that it was Snape’s shoulder he was resting on. That he was lying warm and cozy underneath a blanket that he hadn’t covered himself with.
Then, all of what had transpired earlier that night came rushing back to him. How he had taken hold of Snape and all but refused to let go. Harry felt his cheeks burn with embarrassment and not knowing what else to do, he shut his eyes again, flexing and unflexing his toes inside his sock clad feet, realizing that Snape must have also taken his shoes off for him. Probably at the same time he’d removed his glasses.
Then Harry felt his blanket being tugged up higher to reach to the base of his neck. Snape used his arm to pull Harry closer and tighter against his side, putting an immediate end to the fidgeting. Harry exhaled softly and tried to relax. Snape still thought he was sleeping and so there was no reason to bother getting up right now. Not when he was so comfortable.He listened to the crackling of the fire and the sound of Snape turning pages as he resumed reading. It was a while before he felt ready to open his eyes again, regretting it already the moment that he did. But he slid out from under Snape’s arm anyway and pulled himself into a sitting position.
“I’m sorry, sir,” Harry apologized, already shifting over to the other end of the sofa to create some distance between them.
“Nothing to be sorry about,” Snape replied, closing his book and then reaching over to hand him his glasses. “Did you already forget everything I told you?”
Harry accepted them without looking at him. He wrapped the blanket more tightly around himself like a cocoon. It was a green throw, the one he’d recognized hanging over the back of the sofa when they’d first arrived. While he stared determinedly into the fire, Snape got up and disappeared into one of the rooms down the hall. He was gone several minutes, but just as Harry had begun to wonder if the professor had gone to bed without telling him, Snape returned with a glass bottle in his hand.
“Drink,” he said calmly, removing the cork and passing it to Harry. It was the specially concocted potion that Harry was supposed to take every night before going to bed. Under its effects, his scar hadn’t twinged since the beginning of summer and he hadn’t seen anymore visions of Voldemort.
“I forgot,” Harry admitted, bringing the vial to his lips and swallowing its entire contents in one gulp.
“A few hours late won’t matter,” Snape replied, taking his wand out of his robes to vanish the glass. “I give you a heavier dose that is probably needed. It’s safer that way.”
“Will I always have to take it, sir?” asked Harry.
“For now, yes,” Snape replied. “Although, I worry that you’re using it as a crutch to neglect your Occlumency training. I think you take it as an excuse not to practice as much as you should.”
“What gave you that impression?” asked Harry indignantly. “You don’t see what I do at Grimmauld Place.”
“Hmm,” Snape smirked. “We’ll have to put that to the test later, won’t we? However, as it would be completely catastrophic if the Dark Lord saw us together, you will have to continue on with the potion indefinitely, no matter how confident I become in your Occlumency abilities.”
“That’s fine with me, sir,” Harry replied. “I don’t mind taking it.”
“Good,” said Snape. “Now, let’s get you to your room. If you aren’t tired anymore, you can read or something. But I need sleep.”
Harry stood up and draped the green blanket back over the sofa like it had been. Then he walked inside his new room and pulled back the shimmery gold comforter to climb into his bed. Just knowing that it would be here waiting for him, whenever he wanted, was a gift that he was still wary might be taken away. Quite like how Sirius had offered him a new home on the night of their first meeting, but had then needed to go on the run because Wormtail had escaped.
“Professor?” Harry called, when Snape emerged from the bathroom, changed out of his robes and into a grey sweater and pajama trousers.
“What is it?” asked Snape, pausing in the door frame of Harry’s room.
“Sir, I was just thinking about potions,” said Harry, smoothing the covers over his lap.
“What about them?” said Snape.
“About how powerful and transformative they are,” Harry replied. “It feels like there aren't any limits.”
“I can assure you there’s limits,” said Snape, frowning slightly.
“Honestly, sir, it seems like the limits only exist until you find a way around them,” Harry persisted. “I’ve been watching you all summer. You invented a potion that literally prevents Vol-the Dark Lord from invading my mind. You helped Lupin. And then I was also thinking of Barty Crouch Jr and how he was able to use Polyjuice Potion to pretend to be Mad-Eye Moody right under Professor Dumbledore’s nose for a whole year. It’s just kind of incredible, the possibilities.”
“If you had ever bothered to pay attention in my class then it wouldn’t have taken you until this summer to recognize the value of potion making,” Snape replied. “But why the sudden interest, anyway?”
“Well, I was just thinking about Sirius,” Harry admitted, and he saw Snape’s face instantly cloud over at the name. Perhaps it was too much too soon, but he thought that he’d better just ask. Professor Snape might do it for him. He’d done a lot already that he would have seemed incapable of just a few months ago.
“What about him?” asked Snape tersely.
“Why can’t Sirius take Polyjuice Potion or something to get out of the house sometimes?” asked Harry. “Why is Professor Dumbledore so determined to keep him locked up?”
“You’d have to ask Professor Dumbledore,” Snape replied. “That has nothing to do with me. It’s certainly not something that keeps me up at night. At least not until right now…”
“But you don’t get it either, do you?” Harry pressed on.
“Harry,” Snape sighed. “Potions, or any magical means of concealment, can be detected. Nothing is impenetrable - not even your invisibility cloak because if it slides off then you’re done for. The Headmaster just wants to keep Black alive. He’s the most wanted man in Britain. Professor Dumbledore just doesn’t think it’s worth the risk.”
“But everyone else is taking risks,” Harry argued. “You are by just having me in your life. If the wrong person ever learned I was here -”
“They won’t,” Snape cut in. “I already explained to you the need for discretion when you come and go from here, but I am your teacher and the Dark Lord expects me to maintain my cover. It’s not suspicious for us to speak or for you to occasionally visit my office.”
“But you’re still taking a risk, aren’t you, sir?” asked Harry. “And even without me; you’re spying and lying to his face all the time. You cheat death whenever you go to him, but you do it anyway. Why can’t Sirius make his own choices? I don’t want anything to happen to him either but he’s supposed to be free now.”
“I can agree with that,” Snape replied slowly. “I think it’s dangerous, but it’s also not my business or my problem. And I don’t make a point of arguing with Albus Dumbledore about his decisions when they don’t even concern me. That’s between them.”
“But you think Dumbledore’s wrong?” asked Harry.
“I think Professor Dumbledore is playing a dangerous game,” Snape said after a pause. “I think he’ll drive Black mad by keeping him inside and not letting him contribute to the Order. Sirius Black is a reckless man on a good day. I wouldn’t want to see what he becomes if this continues much longer.”
“Would you tell Dumbledore that?” Harry implored him. “Would you offer Sirius the Polyjuice Potion or something to disguise himself? Not for anything crazy - I’m not saying he should go strut down Diagon Alley or anything - but why couldn’t he come watch me play Quidditch at school sometimes? Or go to the Burrow looking like any member of the Weasley family when we’re all there?”
“I thought you were arguing that he should be able to get out to work for the Order?” asked Snape.
“Well, couldn’t it be both?” demanded Harry.
“I’m not saying it couldn’t,” Snape replied, looking a little amused now. “I just follow Dumbledore’s orders. He certainly doesn’t follow mine.”
“But he listens to you,” said Harry urgently. “You could ask him for me. You could offer to make the potion. Maybe Dumbledore just never considered the idea before because he didn’t think you’d be willing.”
Snape turned to go into his own room then. “I’ll think about it,” were the last words he said before closing the door.