Scarred Souls

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Title: Scarred Souls



Author: Misty Moonlight/Co-author: QueenBoadicea



Beta: QueenBoadicea



Pairings: Severus/Harry



Published: 12/10/2008



Summary: A widowed Harry must bond with Snape in order to save his daughter’s life. Sev gains a family, for better or worse, and the hearts of two scarred souls will be changed forever.



Warnings: Romance, Drama, Angst, Alternate Reality/Universe, Sexual Situations, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Slash, Anal, Language, Humor, possible MPreg, Bonding, Original Characters, Family, non-canon, OOC, WIP



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Chapter 13: Confrontation





“Snape? Snape, we’re going out.” Harry didn’t hear a response from his new husband. Where was he? Maybe he was in the basement with some new concoction or other. If that was the case, he wouldn’t want to be disturbed.



Harry didn’t want to take the children shopping with him. Yet he was loathe to leave them behind at his bond mate’s mercy while Snape was still angry with them.



“Why can’t we go with you?” Al blubbered. “I don’t want to stay here with Count Dracula.”



“You have to stay home with Lily,” he explained. “I can’t leave her alone.”



“Can’t she come with us?” James protested.



Harry shook his head. “She just got home from the hospital yesterday, boys. I don’t want to keep moving her around. It could make her sick again. So she has to stay here.”



He really didn’t want to take the children with him. Even after all these years, the Boy Who Lived was still a celebrity and that meant he was always bothered with a certain amount of fawning and unwanted attention whenever he was in public. So far, he had kept his children out of the limelight and that’s the way he wanted matters to stay.



What was he going to do? Ron was busy with his job. Hermione was engaged in her own research, especially regarding the bond. He could ask Molly to come look after the children. She would be all too glad to do so; her love for her grandchildren was as great as her affections for her own children.



But, considering her current antagonism towards Severus, having her here would be a bad idea. If she and Severus met again without Arthur Weasley to come between them, there would be hell to pay.



He racked his brains. He couldn’t stay here and he couldn’t bring the children with him and leaving them alone, two naughty seven-year-old boys and one toddler, was out of the question.



Then he brightened. Of course! Why hadn’t he thought of it before? “Kreacher? Kreacher!”



The ancient house-elf popped into existence. Other than a new diaper (Harry had gotten tired of the ragged thing he used to wear) and the golden locket, he was largely naked. So used was Harry to his odd appearance, he was no longer uncomfortable having him around the children.



“Kreacher, I’m going out for a few hours. Please take care of the children while I’m gone.”



The elf bowed low and spoke in his gravelly voice. “I shall be happy to serve Harry Potter.” He smiled at James and Albus. “If it isn’t Master Harry’s little boys. Kreacher has not seen you in ages. How you have grown!”



“My little girl was recently ill. She’s to have no solid foods, just milk and mild broth. Understand?”



“Of course.” Kreacher looked around. “Am I to wait upon your bond mate as well, Master Harry?”



“You know about Snape?” Harry hadn’t told Kreacher the news. How had the house-elf learned about it?



“The Black family tapestry lists you as Black’s inheritor to the estate and the name of your bond mate appeared on the tapestry yesterday. You should have told me, Master Harry. I am servitor to the Black family and should be informed of any change in the status of its heirs,” the house-elf said reprovingly.



“Oh. Well, I don’t think Snape will need your help.” He probably wouldn’t want it, either, Harry thought. If there was anyone who would hate other parties going through his private quarters, it would be Snape.



“Very well.” Kreacher bowed again. “Shall I prepare breakfast for the children, Master Harry?”



“No, they’ve already eaten. Just keep them out of trouble.”



“Dad! We’re not babies!” James protested.



Harry gave him a knowing look. “I know. That’s what worries me. I’m not concerned about Lily getting into mischief.” He nodded at Kreacher. “I’ll be back soon.”



Kreacher bowed again and Harry left through the floo, certain that the children were in good hands.



As soon as he was gone, James turned to Kreacher. “Kreacher, we need you to do us a favor,” James started.



The house-elf bowed low, although it made his joints creak. “Kreacher is here to serve.”



James nodded grimly. “Good. First off, can you tell us what an Unbreakable Vow is?”



Kreacher tilted his head. “It is a bond of grave import in the Wizarding world. An Unbreakable Vow is one that yokes one wizard to another’s wishes. They are bound to silence, obedience and servitude, much like with house-elves. However, it is far more deadly in its effects. Should the bonded wizard or witch break his word, he or she will lose their magic and quite possibly their life.”



James and Al looked at each other in horror. “Oh no,” Al whimpered. “We’re stuck with him.”



The house-elf’s eyebrows drew together. “Stuck with who, young Potter?”



“Our new stepdad,” James said with clear dislike. “Daddy had to marry him and now he can’t leave—because of an Unbreakable Vow thing.”



“That is indeed unfortunate. I had no idea that this was so.” His forehead wrinkled in thought. “Have they consummated their bond?”



Al’s nose scrunched up while he tried to understand this new word. “What does ‘consullated’ mean?”



Kreacher had been with generations of Blacks, Slytherins all, and Slytherin children became acquainted early with all the dealings of the adult world. It didn’t occur to him that other children might be shielded from such knowledge. “Have they had sex with each other yet?”



“What’s sex?” James asked.



“The close intimate uniting between spouses and those in love or lust,” Kreacher responded dryly.



The boys looked at each other uncertainly. This was beyond their limited understanding but they felt it had vaguely something to do with all the kissing and hugging they’d caught between their Daddy and Mummy when she’d been alive and the giggling heard behind closed doors when they were at Uncle Ron and Aunt Hermione’s house.



“It sometimes produces a child,” the house-elf added helpfully when he saw their bafflement.



“Oh! Like with Lily.” This was something Al could understand. He still didn’t know what Kreacher was talking about, but Daddy’s belly wasn’t big like their mummy’s had been before she had Lily. So this “sex” couldn’t have happened.



“No, don’t think so,” James responded, answering Kreacher’s question.



“Then they are not truly spouses as understood by Wizarding law. That will keep Snape from having access to Number 12 Grimmauld Place.”



“Good,” James said gleefully. He didn’t want the greasy git to have anything to do with his Daddy and that meant keeping him out of his father’s other home. “So, Kreacher, we need a favor.”



“I live to serve. What is your request, young James?”



“Can you get through wizard wards?”



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Snape glared at the imposing, dour looking manor. The wards had refused him entry and he had been left to fume and pace on the sidewalk.



What could be the problem? He was Harry’s bond mate. The magic at the Black household should have recognized that and admitted him.



He walked down the street, ignoring the curious gazes of Muggles who wondered at his strange attire and the hood pulled dramatically over his face and hair. He would find a secluded alley and Apparate back to the wretched cottage to figure this out.



At least he’d been spared the rattletrap babbling of those idiotic heads. They’d ceased the moment he left his new home and he hoped they were gone for good.



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Harry wandered through Slugs & Jiggers with his list. He recognized some of the items from his years fumbling through his Potions classes. The rest were a mystery. He only hoped Snape would be satisfied with the quality and wouldn’t demand he make a second trip.



The proprietor practically fell over himself when he realized he had the famous Harry Potter on the premises. Harry grimaced but allowed the man to expound on the qualities and properties of the items. Listening with half an ear, he suddenly remembered his last conversation with Hermione.



“Thank you, sir. These will all be fine.”



“Do you want these delivered?” Mr. Baldwin asked.



“No. I’ll just shrink them and take them with me.” Various people would have loved to know where Harry Potter lived. But so far Harry had managed to outfox any stranger who tried to worm that information out of him.



He paid for his purchases and left the store, walking briskly, his eye out for anyone who might be a reporter. Throughout the years, they had gotten cannier about following him. But he’d developed a sixth sense about supposedly innocent looking people lurking about, trailing after him or striking up what seemed like random conversations with him. He found a handy Apparition point and took off.



He didn’t notice the slight young man who ducked out of Slugs & Jiggers shortly after him and trotted to his own Apparition Point.



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Harry was very reluctant to confide in Healer Carlson after the man had conspired with Severus Snape to hide the true state of his daughter’s health. But the man had confessed he hadn’t been aware of Harry’s antagonistic relationship with Snape when the Potions master had asked him to keep quiet about his treatment of Lily.



Harry didn’t believe that Snape would have let Carlson or anyone outside of himself and his new family aware of the bonding. Perhaps that Ministry official who’d officiated at the ceremony might have been tempted to talk. But there had been no sign in the Daily Prophet about the news. He only hoped he could ensure both Carlson’s help and his discretion.



“Excuse me, do you have something that prevents pregnancy?” He lowered his voice on the last word.



The Healer didn’t bat an eyelash. “Absolutely, Mr. Potter. There are potions that can be taking just before or after intercourse. There are even some the young lady can ingest up to a week afterwards if the woman in question is determined not to be impregnated.”



“Oh. Well, that’s good.” Harry hesitated, knowing that the next question had to be asked and dreading the man’s likely interpretation of it. “Will these potions work on males? So they don’t get, um, you know.”



This time the man did blink. “Why, uh, yes. The birthrate in the Wizarding world is so low that male pregnancies are just as welcome as females. However, there are men who don’t want to get pregnant.” A speculative gleam entered his eye. “Would you be the one taking the potion?”



“Does that matter?” Harry asked stonily.



Carlson’s face smoothed into a show of sympathy. “Of course not. Either you or your new partner may utilize the potion.”



“Good. I think I’d prefer one I could take after intercourse. How should I keep it? What would be the shelf life? Can I take them with meals?”



Carlson struggled to keep up with Mr. Potter’s questions. “I can prescribe anti-contraceptive potions that can be taken with meals or without.”



“Do you have any that will last for weeks, especially if I keep them in a dark place?”



“Yes, of course.”



“Excellent. I’ll take as many as possible.” Harry thought for a moment. “May I trust you to keep this information confidential?”



“Yes, Mr. Potter. I’m well aware…”



“No, I mean it,” Harry said harshly. “You let Snape keep you from telling me that he’d healed my daughter, even though she is my child and I was frantic to know about her welfare. I want you to swear that you’ll let no one else know about our agreement.” He pulled out his wand. “Swear that you’ll tell no one about what went on here today, not this conversation, not what I asked you for…nothing.”



Healer Carlson looked at the young man’s pale, rigid face. Something strange was going on here. He knew as little as anyone else about Harry Potter’s domestic life. He’d known of the man’s agonizing grief at the death of his wife. So who could be the significant other that necessitated the use of a contraceptive potion and why would Mr. Potter want his silence about it?



The green eyes hardened to jade and the Boy Who Lived repeated his request. Carlson could feel magic swirling in the air, harsh eddies of power and anger, and his mouth went dry. For the first time in the Chosen One’s presence, he knew fear. Prodded by Mr. Potter, he pulled out his own wand and held it in a shaking grasp.



“I-I swear,” he whispered. A red flame shot out and curled around his wand and Mr. Potter smiled, a tense expression with no joy in it.



“Well, I think we’re done here. And, just to thank you for your help, I’ll be sure to make a generous donation to St. Mungo’s. All right?”



“T-thank you, Mr. Potter.”



With that, Mr. Potter left. Healer Carlson breathed a sigh of relief. He didn’t know what had angered the savior of the Wizarding World. He only hoped never to experience that level of power he’d just felt.



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Severus Apparated back to the cottage and eased open the door cautiously. There was no glue on the floor and he breathed a sigh of relief. Realizing that he was nervous about what the twins may have been planning in his absence, his lips thinned and he strode into house with his usual hauteur. Just let those little—



“Well, look who’s back for more? Tall, Dark and Hideous!”



Severus swung around, his wand at the ready, though he knew it was useless. The heads, that had been silent and invisible, were back, hovering above his head.



“Damn, you simply don’t take a hint, do you, Snivellus?”



“Where the devil did you come from?” he snarled.



“Um, here, knucklebrain. What’s the matter? Your memory going on you, old man?” the first head snapped.



Blast. The heads apparently only appeared here in the cottage. His eyes narrowed at the realization.



Of course. It was a transparent attempt by Potter’s brats to drive him from the house. Well, they hadn’t counted on the tenacity of one Severus Snape.



“Ninety-nine bottles of beer on the wall, ninety-nine bottles of beer. Take one down, pass it around, ninety-eight bottles of beer on the wall.”



This time the other two heads joined with the third and the litany of this latest execrable tune rose in volume.



Severus shuddered. This was—horrible. There was no way he was going to stand for this. “POTTER!” he roared.



With a pop, a withered, aged house-elf appeared before him, giving him a scowl. “Master Potter is not here. Is there anything you require?”



“When will Mr. Potter return?”



“I don’t know,” the house-elf responded. “Would you care for some refreshment until he returns?”



“No, I would not,” Severus ground out. “Where are those hellacious brats of his?”



“If you refer to Master Potter’s lovely children, they are playing in their rooms. Do you wish to have them come down to see you?”



The last thing he wanted was to keep company with Potter’s misbegotten spawn. But he wanted this nonsense to stop. Without Potter to interfere, he might actually get those children to obey him. “No. That won’t be necessary.”



He silently crept to the upstairs corridor. A few strides brought him to the children’s rooms. He slunk towards the door with his usual soundless stride. Smirking in anticipation at terrifying the two, he pulled out his wand and waved it at the door. “Alohomora.”



There was no response. He tried a stronger Charm and then another when that didn’t work.



The wards surrounding the twins’s door refused to give and he recognized Potter’s handiwork in the magic vibrating through the wards. Evidently, he had shored up these spells far more than he had on his own room and Snape wondered why. Perhaps he felt his children’s lives were far more precious than his own.



After failing to get through, he settled for the simple expedient of yelling. “Open this door, you little brats! I know you’re in there. That decrepit house-elf of yours told me so. So open up!”



There was a frantic scrambling behind the door and a couple of suspicious thumps. “What? Who’s there?”



“I see you’ve inherited your father’s stupidity,” he sneered. “Have you forgotten who is sharing your living quarters?”



The door flew open, as he’d known it would. Albus stood within the door, struggling against his older brother’s grip. “Our dad’s not stupid!” Al yelled hotly.



Snape grinned and shoved his way through the door. Any wards automatically fell once the door was opened. The silly little buggers either didn’t know or hadn’t heeded their father’s warning to keep him out.



“Oi!” James yelled. “You’re not supposed to be in here! This is our room!”



He slammed the door behind him. “Your father isn’t here to protect your scruffy hides so listen to me very carefully. I won’t put up with any more of these shenanigans.” He pointed his hand at the warbling trio. “Remove these.”



Al was about to talk but James spoke up first. “Remove what?”



“Don’t play games with me, little boy.” Severus let his voice drop down low, giving it the menacing timbre that had terrified generations of Hogwarts students. “Remove. Them. NOW.”



He was met with mutinous silence. The boys stared at him, defiant but refusing to budge. Another time, he would have admired their courage. Now he was in no mood.



“So be it.” He whipped out his wand, pointed it at James and rapped out, “Legilimens.”



Images spooled through his mind. Before he could fasten on the relevant one, a spasm seized him and Severus crumpled to the floor.



He curled up, gasping, realizing too late what had happened. He had once again forgotten to take his anti-seizure potions and analgesics. The pain arched through him, causing his back to bow; his teeth clenched as he fought to keep from screaming.



James and Al stared at the man twitching on the floor. “Geez, James, what did you do to him?” Al whispered.



“Don’t be stupid. I didn’t do anything to him. He’s sick or something.” Thoughts of vengeance vanished from James’s mind as his new stepfather trembled in obvious pain.



“What do we do?” Al asked, running his hands through his hair, terrified of this new development. What if their Daddy blamed them for this?



“We’ll call Kreacher. Kreacher! Help! Something’s wrong with Sniv—I mean, Snape!”



Kreacher appeared at once and blinked at the sight of Snape writhing on the floor. “What do you wish, young Potters?”



“Snape’s in trouble. I think he needs help.”



“Don’t bother yourselves.” The harsh voice made the boys start. Their dark-eyed tormentor was slowly dragging himself to his feet. He stood up finally and made an effort to remain upright. This close, however, there was no hiding the ghastly whiteness of his skin or the sweat streaking his face.



“What’s wrong with you?” Al asked timidly.



The man glared at them, although the expression looked less scary than what they’d seen before. “Perhaps those things you plagued me with are making me sick. You two obviously don’t know anything of magic so I suggest you dispense with them at once.”



James wasn’t so easily fooled. “I don’t believe you. This is something else. What’s really wrong with you? Are you sick?”



“Are you calling me a liar, boy?” Severus let the menace drip into his voice.



James lifted his chin. “Maybe.”



That thin hand clenched on the wand and James flinched a little. He wasn’t afraid of this man. That’s what he kept telling himself, anyway. He knew his father would punish Severus if the man tried to hurt them.



Where was his father anyway? James was worried that he hadn’t come back yet. He didn’t want to spend the night with this berk if his father wasn’t home.



“I’m not discussing this with you any longer.” The black eyes had turned to empty pools and James found himself shifting closer to his younger brother. “I demand you remove these constructs immediately.”



“We can’t,” Albus blurted.



“You cast this spell. You can remove it.”



“Actually, we didn’t,” James mumbled. “We can’t perform magic. We don’t have wands.”



Albus scowled. “Yeah. It’s not fair.”



“Life isn’t fair. When you get older, you’ll realize that. Who cast this spell?” Severus ground out, his eyes never leaving James.



“Uncle George.”



A dark eyebrow lifted. “George Weasley was responsible for this? Another of his jokes, I suppose.”



“Not really. He got it from Uncle Percy.” James figured there was no harm in letting him know the truth. Uncle George had told them no one could harm Percy since he was in an important job like Granddad Arthur.



“Percy Weasley is in on this?” Severus hadn’t had much contact with that Gryffindor once he was out of school. But he had found Percy to be stuffy but hard working and ambitious—nothing like the rest of his grinning clan. Why would he be involved in such a foolish jape?



At least now he knew where to turn to get this problem fixed. He had no wish to get further involved in Potter’s extended family. But it looked like he had no choice.



Unwillingly, he recalled Harry’s words to him before they had bonded.



“I hope you know what you’re in for, Snape, because your life as you now know it is about to change forever. For better or worse, my family will become yours.”



It hadn’t sunk in on him until now. But he realized that the entire Weasley family was in league against him. He had made implacable enemies of the whole lot.



Well, he had faced worse—Fenrir Greyback for instance. He wasn’t about to be beaten by a bunch of poor, brainless redheaded Gryffindors.



Without another word to the twins, Severus swept from the room. He had to take his potions now before his condition worsened.



He hadn’t managed to cow Harry’s hellions tonight but he’d gotten the information he needed. First thing, tomorrow, he was marching into the Ministry and demanding answers from the officious Percy.



The heads followed him, cackling like loons over his most recent agonizing spasm.





TBC