"Severus." The word echoed as if from across a vast space. "Severus, it's all right. Harry will be protected."
It would not be all right. Black had all but murdered the Potters, although he used the Dark Lord's wand to do it.
Severus' bones appeared as if by magic, and he sat forward in his chair, fists clenched as tightly as his jaw. He snarled, "How can you say that!? That lunatic blew up twelve Muggles, just to get at Pettigrew! He'll stop at nothing to kill my son, just like he tried to six years ago!"
And then Severus gasped, having let that particular kneazle out of the cauldron. He pressed a trembling hand to his face. This was not one of his better days.
"Severus, it's all right," came Dumbledore's calm tones again. The understanding in his voice was nearly Severus' undoing. But he had to keep it together, had to keep up appearances. "Both Ms. Bones and Auror Shacklebolt already know of your adoption of Harry." Underlying that statement was the hint that they did not know that Harry was, in truth, his biological son. Perhaps Albus did not want them to know, for some reason. Perhaps he was letting Severus decide on his own whether to tell them. Yes, Severus thought, Albus might be that subtle. His employer -- still? he wondered -- went on, "Amelia, in fact, was my contact at the Ministry who aided us in getting the paperwork through so quickly."
Gulping down a breath like it was razor wire, Severus could do nothing but nod, his face still covered by his hands. Sirius Black had escaped from the most secure prison in the wizarding world. How was that even possible? And how long would it take for him to come after Harry and finish the job he'd started when Harry was just a babe in Lily's arms?
He had to go to the Burrow. He had to see if Harry was all right. What if Black had discovered where Harry was? Oh, god!
He was already out of his chair and halfway to the fireplace and the floo network when Dumbledore brought him up short. "Severus. Becalm yourself. Black can not have found him already. We must discuss what precautions you and Harry must take now."
Severus stared at the Headmaster incredulously. How could he be expected to carry on a conversation with his son in mortal danger?
"Sit, Severus," Albus said more forcefully, and Severus felt compelled to obey the tone of voice that the Headmaster used with him so infrequently. He collapsed into the chair he had recently vacated. "Running off half-cocked will do neither of you any good," Dumbledore continued, and pushed a tin of sweets at him, whilst giving him an earnest smile. "Lemon sherbet?"
It was all Severus could do not to scream.
When Severus finally reached the Weasleys, it was almost three hours later than he had originally promised his son he would be there. Within seconds of coming through the floo, he was kneeling in front of the hearth. Harry was in his arms, sobbing his relief, and Severus, for just a moment, nearly joined him with tears of his own.
"I'm sorry, Harry," he whispered over and over into the boy's fine, dark hair as he patted circles on the boy's back, attempting to soothe the tight muscles of his back and shoulders. "I'm so sorry I was late. I'm so sorry, Harry, please believe me. . . ."
From the look on Molly Weasley's face, and her husband's, as they sat next to each other on the sofa with their hands clasped together for support, the last three hours had been rough on them, too. While cupping Harry's head against his chest, he mouthed words of apology to the two of them, earning a sharp nod from Arthur and a tear-filled sniff from Molly. He would apologize better later. He could not afford to antagonize her at all, as without their cooperation, Harry would not be able to come back here again. Not until Black was captured and Kissed by the Dementors they had waiting for his return to Azkaban.
Rather than rely on their unstinting cooperation, though, Severus had been willing to take Harry and run, just to not be anywhere that Black could get a hold of him. They would go far from Hogwarts, or the Burrow, or even the whole of Britain. They would go somewhere far, far away and be safe.
Merlin knew, though -- as did, apparently, Albus Dumbledore -- that no where would be truly safe from the likes of Sirius Black. No one in the Ministry knew how he had broken out of Azkaban, but that he had done so meant he had the tenacity and drive to find Harry anywhere in the world and finish the Dark Lord's job. Thus, Severus realized, (with Albus' help, of course, after much debate) that he would be better off just making his home and the other places he frequented as impenetrable as possible against that filthy murderer's incursion.
Harry's sobs had turned to hitched breaths and hiccups, but Severus did not relinquish his grip on his son, still holding him close, wrapping him in as much safety and warmth as he could, while he could.
"I would never leave you, Harry," he said, now that the boy was probably able to hear him again. "Never. You're my son, forever and ever, and I'm very sorry I was late." He pressed a kiss to the top of the boy's head. "Please believe me, Harry. I will always return for you."
"O-okay," came the stuttered acceptance, along with a hard squeeze from Harry's thin arms which had snaked around Severus' neck where he was clinging for dear life.
Nodding once, Severus stood, still holding his son in his arms. "Molly. Arthur," he said solemnly and inclined his head. "I need to ask you an enormous favor."
TBC . . .
A/N
: My apologies for taking so long to get this new chapter out. What with the new job, doing my taxes and having surgery, amongst various health issues, I've been kinda swamped. But never fear, faithful readers! I will continue to post to this story, tho' the intervals may be longer and the way may be harder, and the road may be long and treacherous, I will prevail! Thanks to all who read and/or review!
Little Harry offers squashy hugs from him and Treacle Tart, for all who persevere with him.
*Chapter 17*: Chapter 17
Whelp II -- The Wrath of Snape
By jharad17
Chapter Seventeen
Previously:
"O-okay," came the stuttered acceptance, along with a hard squeeze from Harry's thin arms which had snaked around Severus' neck where he was clinging for dear life.
Nodding once, Severus stood, still holding his son in his arms. "Molly. Arthur," he said solemnly and inclined his head. "I need to ask you an enormous favor."
Harry clung to his father as they stood up together, and managed to stay in his arms, settled on his father's hip. He was never going to let go. Never. Father would never leave him, he'd said, and Harry meant to hold him to that promise.
"Of course, Severus," Mrs. Weasley said immediately. "Anything you need."
Mr. Weasley, who was a tall man, with red hair like his sons, and whose skin got red when he was upset, even if he didn't yell like Uncle Vernon, put a hand on Mrs. Weasley's arm. "Why don't you let him tell us first, Moll?"
Mrs. Weasley nodded tiredly. "Of course. Just tell us, Severus."
Father hugged Harry a little tighter, and his voice sounded odd when he said, "Sirius Black has escaped."
The result of those words, which Harry didn't even understand, was immediate. Both of the Weasleys opened their eyes real wide, and Mrs. Weasley covered her mouth with her hand, as if she was going to puke and was trying to hold it in. Harry felt kind of bad for her. She had tried to help him calm down when Father told him he couldn't come back, but he had refused her offers of cakies and other puddings, and games and stories and everything.