Old loves
Severus Snape was one of the youngest Potion Masters in a century, a professor at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry and a man who quite enjoyed his summer break away from the dunderheads he had to attempt to teach each year, thank you very much.
He had his rather expansive garden, which contained a number of rare and highly sought after potions ingredients, his private potions lab, which was better equipped then even his lab at Hogwarts, and most importantly, he had his sweet, blessed, silence.
He still had a month left in the seclusion of Prince Manor in Devon when the owl flew in through the kitchen window with a letter from Gringotts. Much to the displeasure of his Head House Elf Tilsey, Severus enjoyed cooking his own food for the most part, employing the keen skills that made him such a good potioneer. He was standing at the bench in the old, but so-clean-it-glowed kitchen chopping herbs for a breakfast omelette when the Barn Owl flew in and perched on the stand that was specifically designed for this purpose. It squawked at him and held its leg out imperiously, eyeing Severus off as he lay the knife down and quickly cleaned his hands.
Having had its burden removed, the owl simply dipped its head into the water bowl for a quick drink, and then took off with a loud hoot. Severus sat down at the long wooden table, similar in design to the tables in the Great Hall at Hogwarts. Breaking the seal, Severus read quickly over the missive, blinking in confusion.
Lord Prince,
You are needed immediately at Gringotts Wizarding Bank in London. As the matter is somewhat urgent, ask for Griphook at the front desk and you will be brought to me as quickly as possible. If inconvenient, please respond as such via the owl delivering this message.
May your Gallons grow.
Master Griphook, Senior Accounts Manager
Severus snorted, noting sardonically that as the owl had already departed he really had no other choice but to make the trip to London. He stood and moved upstairs to the master bedroom to change, calling out to Tilsey that he wouldn’t be needing the cooking supplies left out on the bench after all.
Changing from the slacks and collared button up that he wore around the house when not working in the garden into one of his more formal robes, Severus stalked down through the sprawling manor, muttering to himself that at least he hadn’t started brewing yet. Making his way out the front door and past some of the gardens, he called to one of the house elves tending to the greenery, letting them know that he was going out and that he shouldn’t be too long. Moving to the apparition point in the wards, he turned sharply on his heal and with an ear splitting crack, disappeared.
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He reappeared in Diagon Alley, just near the steps leading into Gringotts. His sudden appearance startled an old witch in bright yellow robes, as well as a pair of screaming children who were presumably too young to be wandering around unaccompanied, particularly in the current climate. He moved hastily inside the building, stalking past the doors with the infamous inscription. He travelled up to the front desk; ignoring the outraged looks other patrons of the bank shot him.
“I was told to ask for a Master Griphook? Apparently its in regards to some urgent matter.” Severus sneered at the diminutive goblin sitting behind the desk.
“Ah yes. Please follow Rustsnipe here. He will guide you.”
Severus followed the other goblin, wandering deep into the bowels of the wizarding bank. When they finally arrived at the door labelled with Griphook’s name, he rapped his knuckles once upon the wood and then opened the door and proceeded through it, ignoring the faint tingling that went down his spine.
Griphook looked up from the papers he was shuffling and saw the Potions Master step into his office. He nodded curtly to the wizard, thinking to himself how differently the two wizards he’d had in this room today acted.
“Lord Prince, please do come in and take a seat.” Griphook raised an eyebrow as he gestured towards the chairs that the Potter boy had spurned. As the gloomy figure took a seat, the goblin continued, “Now, I’ve asked you here in regards to the Potter Wills, as they left you a bequest.”
Severus looked non-plussed. He had been left something by Lily? Because there was no way Potter would leave him anything, unless the item was viciously booby-trapped. The old goblin held out a letter to him, waiving it almost impatiently. As the wizard broke the seal on the envelope, the goblin began to speak.
“This should have been delivered to you shortly after the deaths of the Potters, but as the Wills have only just been ordered unsealed, this is the earliest we could give it to you. Once you have read the letter, I will explain the matters that have required me to call you here so urgently.”
The writing on the outside was Lily’s precise lettering and Severus could almost smell the faint citrusy perfume she used.
Dear Sev,
I hope by the time you read this we’re a hundred and fifty years old and have spent our lives brewing potions and creating charms together. That James and I have given Harry a couple of siblings and you’re one of their favourite uncles. That we’ve spent our whole lives together learning and laughing and living.
Dumbledore’s just put us into hiding because of Voldemort and I can’t help but feel like something’s coming, something terrible. James and I are writing to all our friends and leaving the letters with Gringotts, just in case.
Anyway, I just wanted you to know that I’ve forgiven you for the whole mudblood thing, just in case I didn’t ever get the chance to tell you in person. Truth be told I’d forgiven you pretty much as soon as I saw you walking away. I was just so stubborn and you seemed so unapproachable and angry with me about James and Sirius and I was so angry with you about the rest of your friends that as the days went on I just didn’t know how to cross that bridge. I am sorry you know, about not accepting your apology, I just didn’t know how to give in. I can’t help but feel like I’ve wrecked it all.
I do hope that I did get the chance to tell you all this in person, but I thought I should write it down just to be safe.
Hopefully we’ve made up by the time you read this, so it shouldn’t come out of left field, but in the event that something happens to James and I, and Sirius can’t take custody of Harry, James and I have both agreed that we want you to raise Harry. Even if Sirius does take Harry, I’d like you to still visit, even if it is only to tell him stories about his dear old mum when she was growing up.
I know that you will love and care for Harry as one of your own and raise him to be as intelligent, caring and kind as I know you are. I also hope that you can help guide him through his lordship, since you too came into your title young.
I don’t want Harry to have any contact with Petunia, at least until he’s old enough to defend himself. You know what she was like after I got my letter, and I’d hate to see what she’d be like to Harry, particularly since she married that great lump Dursley. I’ve told Dumbledore about the chain of custody for Harry, so there shouldn’t be any problems there.
I hope I’m just being paranoid, and that you never read this, but if you do, know that you are and were my best friend and that I trust you with my life, and the life of my child.
I love you Sev,
Always,
Your Lily
By the time Severus finished reading, tears were silently dripping down his face. Lily had finally forgiven him, even if it was 18 years too late. He took a minute to compose himself, and wiped his face with one of the many handkerchiefs he had about his person. The letter raised a number of questions, most importantly that if Lily and Potter had placed him right after the Mutt in terms of custody for the brat why had Dumbledore place the boy with his Aunt and Uncle and why was he only just finding out about this now, as Wills were normally read within 31 days of the maker dying. Through it all, Griphook had watched silently as the stoic professor paled and began to weep.
“Why,” the professor snarled, “Has it taken this long for this letter to be made available to me? And why was the will of the Potters in relation to the boy so completely ignored!”
The goblin sat back in his chair, somewhat surprised at the venom in the wizard’s tone, but only a raised eyebrow indicated he had even heard the questions.
“On the night the Potters died, the Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot came to Gringotts and having watched the Wills of both Lord and Lady Potter, sealed them forever. It is only this morning that we have been able to circumvent this sealing and inform you of the contents, although circumstances have made it so that only the late Lord Potters Will has been watched.
“But the Chief Warlock is Dumbledore! Surely he didn’t…” The wizard trailed off, knowing full well that if he though it was for the ‘greater good’ Dumbledore would have done whatever he thought was necessary. “Who is his current Regent, they must have been informed about the custody arrangements regarding the boy?” It didn’t occur to Severus that his behaviour towards Harry could be considered strange when viewed in light of their past interactions. Griphook however, having heard of the near legendary feud between the young Gryffindor and the Head of Slytherin house, noted it with interest as something to be discussed later. Goblins, of course, kept themselves well informed on all the gossip, as anything could affect their gold and their vaults.
“Ah, well, that’s where things get interesting. Technically, Harry Potter’s Regent is Henry Ralston, who has served as the Potter’s steward for more than 70 years. However, since the Potter Wills were sealed, Dumbledore was able to declare himself the boys Regent and has been acting as such ever since, and as Gringotts is bound by confidentiality laws that prevent us from speaking about our clients business, there was no one to argue otherwise.”
Severus was actually stunned silent. He knew that Dumbledore was far from infallible, despite how he projected himself, but this whole situation was becoming increasingly questionable.
“Do I need any paperwork to collect the boy from his relatives home? As Sirius Black is dead I suppose I have become his guardian and I want him away from those people immediately.”
Never mind that it was 15 years too late and that his behaviour towards the boy had been less than exemplary in the past. He was hard pressed to remember exactly why he had been so horrible to the boy, besides the fact that he bore a striking resemblance to his father and had all the characteristics of a cocky, arrogant Gryffindor.
Griphook pressed his long skinny fingers together and replied, somewhat haltingly.
“That brings us to the reason for your abrupt summons. We normally would have invited you in at your convenience, but… circumstances wouldn’t allow it. Having gotten the Wills unsealed this morning, the Potter boy insisted on watching them immediately and at the conclusion of his father's… Well, he fainted. He’s currently in the small infirmary we use to treat curse breakers who injure themselves mildly in the course of their duties but don’t wish to go to St Mungo’s for treatment. There are healers with him now, both Wizard and Goblin, and well, they have discovered a number of issues and as he is still technically underage they requested that his guardians be contacted and well, here you are. At the exact moment the Will was viewed by the boy, the guardianship papers should have automatically changed at the Ministry to reflect his change in status.”
The goblin looked somewhat nervous at this, as he knew he had taken liberties with inviting the potions master to the bank. As Harry had automatically become emancipated at the conclusion of the identification spell he was technically an adult, but since he was unconscious and decisions needed to be made about his health and well being, Griphook had contacted Snape, his named legal guardian.
“Take me to him. If he still hasn’t woken from a faint there must be a further problem.”
At this Griphook stood and nodded, gesturing for the concerned wizard to follow him. They strode quickly through the maze of corridors, delving deeper into the bank.
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The infirmary was a moderately sized room, not dissimilar to that of Madam Pomfrey's domain. Passing through the doors Severus felt another slight tingle go down his spine, but thought nothing of it in his haste to visit his newly found charge. The bed nearest the door had a woman in it, looking like she was recovering from a rather nasty infection of boils and a few beds along had a man who appeared to have an extra hand. What drew Severus’ attention most, however, was the bed right at the end of the room, surrounded by both wizard and goblin healers.
When they arrived at the bed, Severus realised that Potter wasn’t resting on the bed, but was rather hovering above it. This began to ring alarm bells in the back of his mind, knowing that the scene before him looked somehow familiar.
“I’m the boy's…guardian, I suppose, though newly discovered. Severus Snape, Lord of the House of Prince. Can someone please tell me what is wrong with the boy? Merlin knows he’s gotten into enough scrapes over the years that a fainting spell shouldn’t have cause him too much damage.”
“Lord Prince,” the wizard Healer began in a highly reproving tone, “Mr Potter is currently undergoing healing treatments for 2 broken phalanges on his right hand, 3 cracked ribs, a severe concussion, bruising to his larynx, a sprained ankle, numerous scrapes, cuts and bruises and the various infection that come from leaving them untreated, as well as whip marks from his shoulders to his thighs, some of which were deep enough to draw blood! He is severely undernourished and dehydrated and my scanning spells have indicated that he has a number of bones which have been previously broken and rehealed, as well as scarring on parts of his back from previous thrashings. He fainted from a combination of hunger, pain and emotional stress. In short, the boy shows signs of being repeatedly beaten, whipped and abused for most of his life. If it weren’t for his currently bound healing ability, there is no doubt in my mind he would be DEAD! Tell me right now why I shouldn’t file my report with the Department for the Protection of Magical Minors. Abuse of any child is abhorrent, but this child, who’s already been through so much? How dare you.”
Severus waved one of the chairs meant for visitors over to him and collapsed on it. This boy, Lily’s son, abused? Lying asleep in the air, his old round glasses placed on the table next to the bed, the boy looked much younger than his 16 years. He had known that the boy had been in and out of the hospital wing in his years at school, but had just assumed it was part of the shenanigans that he and his Gryffindor compatriots pulled. How had Poppy never picked this up? For that matter, how had Minerva not realised this was going on.
He knew that he was a more involved head of house, with making home visits to his entire group of snake first years, and regularly checking in with his students that he knew came from less than ideal homes, but how could Minerva know nothing at all? And surely Dumbledore or someone had checked in on the boy when he was staying at his aunt and uncles? Or was he to believe that they had left the child there, and never looked it on him again.
Lily knew that Severus had experienced a less than idyllic childhood, and to have her child experience the same thing when he had been entrusted to Severus was soul crushing for the young professor.
In the meantime, Griphook had explained to the Healers that Lord Prince had learned of his guardianship only minutes before arriving, and to please give him some time to process what he had heard.
Severus came back to the situation quite quickly, and despite being paler than anyone other than a vampire had rights to be, began asking questions about the boy’s treatment. As part of his Potions Mastery he had completed a section on healing, and was frequently sought after to brew complicated healing potions for St. Mungo’s.
“I’m sorry about the assumptions, but in cases like these it’s normally the family that are involved. Now, we’ve performed a number of healing spells, and he’s dosed up on a number of potions that should correct his bruising, cuts, infections and broken bones. I’m going to recommend a variation of the nutritional potion given to premature babies that should help to repair the damage done by the long-term malnutrition, which I'm sure you can brew yourself. I’d like to recommend you get him to an Optical Healer, as I simply don’t have the training to deal with the child’s eyes. What the boy needs, most of all, is rest and time to recover in a safe environment. I’d also recommend getting him to see a mind healer, but that, of course, is up to you.” The healer looked somewhat embarrassed, but this was swept away when the diminutive goblin at his side coughed for attention.
“Hehem. Having looked over Goblin Friend Potter, I would recommend you allow me to remove all the bonds that bind him, the healing in particular. His own body will be able to speed up the healing much faster than any outside magic could.” She spoke in a high, wavering voice, indicative of her presumably great age.
“He shouldn’t have any bonds on him. Madam Pomfrey checks all first years at the beginning of their time at school to remove the accidental magic bond in the event that their parents didn’t get around to it. Other then that specific bond, I though only the caster could remove bonds cast.” Severus trailed off as both healers and Griphook gave little huffs of disgust.
“The boy has many extra bonds placed on him, most of which seem to have been placed around the time of his parents deaths. His magical power has been bound twice, once in the accidental magic negation bond cast by parents, and for a second time by an unknown caster. He has also had is Metamorphic, Elemental, Mate Potential and Healing abilities bound. With wizard magic yes, only the caster can remove bonds, but I, young man, am not a wizard. We goblins still have a few tricks up our sleeves.”
Suitably chastised, Severus nodded for the goblin to go ahead. She began chanting in Gobbledegook, and moved in a circle around Harry. The witches and wizards in the room could feel a steadily mounting pressure, the air itself seeming to compress down on them. With a sharp crackle, the pressure left so abruptly that Severus wondered if it had even been there at all.
They all looked at Harry, staring as his hair began to cycle through the colours of the rainbow. The bruising on his face slowly faded out and the potion bottles on his bedside began to levitate. Slowly, the boy cycled back to his normal looks and everything settled down.
“I’ve unbound everything, including the Mate Potential. You probably know this, but many of the old Pureblood families have some creature blood in them, and if they have a magical inheritance to come into it will be when they are 16 or 17, so just keep an eye out for any changes to those around him in the future. Now, Lord Prince, I’d recommend you take him home. He might be in for a bit of a shock when he wakes up, so do try and be patient with him. We’ll check in on him in the next few days to see how the boy is recovering. Oh, and take the owl with you. I had to put a silencing charm on her cage she was making such a racket.”
Griphook handed Severus a quickly scrawled note, as well as the instructions for a handful of potions the male healer recommended for the boy. Severus took his wand and levitated Harry over to the fireplace, grabbed a hold of the Snowy Owl’s cage and threw some of the available floo powder into the fire, before dragging the still floating teenager into the emerald flames and shouting “Prince Manor!”
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Harry drifted slowly back into consciousness, wishing he could hold onto his dream. In his dream, he was warm, and the mattress and pillows he was laying on were soft, and most importantly he didn’t hurt.
Unfortunately, his bladder had different ideas, so he opened his eyes, only to find he was staring at the canopy of a four-poster bed, much like the one he slept in in Gryffindor Tower. He wasn’t in his camp bed at Privet Drive, and he definitely wasn’t on the floor in Griphook’s office, which is the last place he can remember being.
Hedwig hooted softly at Harry from a lovely perch by the open window. Harry sat up cautiously, aware that he should have been far sorer than he was. The room was spacious and well appointed, done in tasteful blues and creams with heavy mahogany furniture. Half filled bookshelves lines one wall, and a desk and a few chairs sat in the other corner. On the far side of the room from Harry were two doors, one leading to what looked like a bathroom and the other was closed. Harry was reaching for his glasses, noting that they seemed to make things more blurred, rather than less, when a small house elf popped silently into his room.
Unlike Dobby’s old and dirty pillowcase, this elf was wearing a little green dress, and when she saw that Harry was awake, spoke in a high-pitched squeaking voice.
“Master Harry is awake! Mopsey will be getting Master! Stay in bed please Master Harry!”
With that she popped back out of the room, leaving Harry looking at Hedwig in confusion. He wasn’t at Hogwarts, he wasn’t at the Weasley’s, and Hermione would never have a house elf. Where in Merlin's name was he?
The door to what Harry presumed was the corridor swung open, and the shadowy figure that stood in it made Harry close his eyes in frustration and despair as the sarcastic drawl he had learnt to despise rang out.
“Ah, Mr Potter, our new…house guest.”