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 Universe, Sexual Situations, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Slash, Anal, Language, Humor, possible MPreg, Bonding, Original Characters, Family, OOC-ness,

non-canon, WIP



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Chapter 40: Paying a Visit





The floo activated and Molly stepped into the living room. She glanced around to satisfy herself that no one was about the place. The space seemed empty but, given the large area, it was best to make certain.



She had never liked Sirius’s home. To be fair to him, Sirius hadn’t appeared to like it either, though he’d never told her why. She swept an eye over the walls, blank spaces showing where portraits of generations of Blacks used to hang. Harry had told her that he’d disliked having the things critiquing him and complaining about a Mudblood Gryffindor soiling their family home. So he’d packed up every last frame and relegated them to the attic. Good riddance.



Even without the portraits, the place was far too gloomy for her liking. Her home at The Burrow might be rather ramshackle but it was filled with joy, happiness and good memories and she wouldn’t have traded it for the finest mansion in the world.



“May I help you, Mrs. Weasley?”



She nearly jumped off her feet. It was only Severus Snape, but, sod it all, couldn’t the man walk like normal people? “Mr. Snape. Hello.”



“Harry isn’t here if you were looking for him. He and all of the children are at the orphanage this morning. They won’t be back for a few hours.” He moved, or rather, glided from his place in the doorway to stand close to her. He didn’t say anything further, just continued to stare at her out of those unblinking eyes.



Insufferable man. She had told the young Harry to respect the man because of his place in the Order. But she had never liked Snape personally and had never regretted striking him when she learned he was forcing Harry into marriage. Molly just wished that she had thought to hex him instead.



“I wasn’t looking for Harry. I wanted to talk to you, actually.” It bothered her to say it but she needed his cooperation if this was to work.



One slim eyebrow rose. He looked amused, annoyed and bored with her all at the same time. She wondered how he managed it.



“I, Mrs. Weasley? I assume this isn’t a personal matter.”



“It is and it isn’t.” She took a deep breath. “Harry’s birthday is in less than a week. I wanted to plan a surprise party for him. However, if I’m to get him to the Burrow, I need your help.”



“The Burrow? Why would you want him to go there? We have plenty of room here for a party. The grand ballroom is large enough to accommodate 250 people.”



She shuddered. “No offense, Snape. But this place is as depressing as a tomb. It’s suitable for a wake, perhaps, but not a party.”



“That’s nonsense, Mrs. Weasley, and you know it. Haven’t you noticed the ducks?” Snape asked.



“Ducks?”



He smirked, grabbed her by the upper arm and gently steered her from the room. “You’ve been coming in and out of here by floo. The last time you were here, you were in rather a hurry. So you haven’t seen the charming décor that house-elf has seen fit to grace our hallway with.” He stopped walking and waved his arm grandly at the colorful wallpaper covering the paneling.



“Wh—oh my goodness. Merlin, is this…Kreacher’s work?” she asked, gaping in shock at the animated flowers tumbling amid the quacking birds.



“Not entirely. He was assisted in his choice by the twins,” Severus drawled.



“Oh. Well, it’s…um…”



“No need to mince words, madam. It’s quite atrocious. Even Harry agrees with me and his tastes aren’t nearly so refined,” he sniffed.



“Oh, it’s not that bad. Merely inappropriate given the rest of the house.” She glanced again at the wallpaper and shook her head bemusedly.



“Try telling that to Harry. In spite of my clear disapproval, he refuses to remove it. He says the house-elf will likely go mad and start battering his head against the floor and furnishings.”



“Then the wallpaper is going to stay. Harry wouldn’t want Kreacher to hurt himself. I’m sorry, Snape, you’re just going to have to deal with it.”



The man grimaced in exaggerated distaste. “That’s easy for you to say, Mrs. Weasley. I’m the one who has to live with it.”



She let out a real laugh this time, beyond surprised that she was actually enjoying Snape’s company. Rallying herself with an effort, she went back to the subject. “I still want Harry’s birthday at The Burrow. We’ve always celebrated it there or at his cottage…”



“Then let it be the cottage.”



“Really? I thought you were set on having it here.”



“Not at all. I merely asked why you didn’t wish to have the festivities at the manor. Now that I’ve reconsidered, I am reluctant to have strangers traipsing about the place. I have made it my home and do not wish to compromise its security.”



“They won’t be strangers, Snape,” she said reprovingly. “This will be Harry’s family.”



“Not the Dursleys, I hope,” he frowned.



She gazed at him steadily. “Surely you know the Dursleys do not have any communication with us. They brought themselves to talk to Ginny—in an extremely limited fashion—and recognize Harry’s children. They did that only because my darling daughter insisted that Harry mend fences with his family. But the rest of us are magical ‘freaks’ and they refuse to get mixed up with us in any significant way. Trust me. They are NOT invited to Harry’s birthdays.”



“I see.” To tell the truth, Severus hadn’t concerned himself overmuch with Harry’s relations, either the Weasleys or the Dursleys. He’d been completely wrapped up in his own brooding and self-pity. It was rather shabby of him and he experienced that shame-bite again.



“If you don’t want to have the party at the Burrow, the cottage will be fine,” Molly conceded. Snape’s face had become a stone mask; she sensed he was undergoing some crisis of emotion but couldn’t figure out what. It was frustrating how impossible it was to read the man.



“You say you wish this to be a surprise for Harry?” he asked.



“Certainly. The cottage is actually a better idea. If you try to get him to the Burrow, he’ll know that we’re planning a party for him. But if you can get him to the cottage on some pretext, I’m certain he’ll be fooled. You haven’t been back there for awhile, have you?” she asked shrewdly.



“No, I haven’t.” At the thought of the cottage, images of the cursed heads flashed through his mind. There was no way he could go back while those—things—were still there.



There was a way to get rid of them, of course. An apology to the Potter twins. The bile surged into his throat just at the thought of it.



So be it. There were limited choices to hosting Harry’s party. He didn’t want it to be at the Burrow; he considered it as “Weasley” territory and he had no intention of being surrounded by all their ginger-haired offspring and on their home ground. Mrs. Weasley was right in her assessment about the Black Manor. The place had all the cheer of a cemetery.



Therefore, it would have to be the cottage. If he wanted to attend, he would have to suffer the heads chattering to him, inaudible and invisible to everyone else—or apologize. He could manage that. Once.



He stood straighter, aware that Mrs. Weasley was looking at him oddly, no doubt waiting for a decision.



“Very well. We will return to the cottage as soon as it is convenient. I can still enter the wards and Harry is used to having me disappear for hours at a time.”



“Even now that you’re pregnant?” she asked, her face aghast with maternal outrage.



“Especially now. My temper is legendary and Harry has been the brunt of it for years. Since my condition is making me even more irascible than usual, my bond mate has learned to let me have as much freedom as is feasible. He finds I am much more amenable if I’m allowed time and space to myself.”



“Hmm.” Molly wasn’t certain what to think about that. She knew about Snape’s temper too. She very much hoped he wasn’t hurting Harry. But a pregnant spouse was no picnic to be around. She well remembered the fits and crochets she had suffered from during each of her pregnancies.



“So if you pick out times that Harry and the children will not be home, we can repair to the cottage and make the necessary arrangements. Fortunately, school is out so we may call on one of the Hogwarts house-elves to assist us, if necessary.”



“Why not Kreacher?”



“He is employed full time here at the Manor. He also helps Harry with little Lily. If he goes absent too often, Harry will suspect.”



“Well, that’s settled then. Let’s go.”



“What? Now?”



“Of course. Harry and the children aren’t here. You seem to be free. We can start with decorations.” She turned and walked back to the dining room where the floo was. She halted when she realized he wasn’t following. “Snape? Are you coming?”



“I just remembered that I left a cauldron simmering in the basement. I must go to decant it before it spoils. It’s a potion I’m creating for a new market,” he lied smoothly.



“Oh? What kind of potion?”



“It’s still in the experimental stage and I don’t want to let anyone know the details until I have perfected it. I’m sure you understand.”



The Slytherin’s tone had become distant. Clearly he refused to talk about it and Molly knew better than to press the matter. “Very well. Later then.”



He nodded his head. She wagged a finger at him. “I mean it, Snape. If I don’t see an owl from you in a few hours arranging a meeting, I will come back here and drag you out by your ears.”



Both of Severus’s eyebrows flew up. He knew he’d betrayed his shock but he couldn’t help it. While the threat was ludicrous, what really made it risible was the smile twitching at the corners of her lips. It seemed that the woman had—warmed to him. The notion caused a weird fluttering in his stomach, no doubt at the sickening sentimentality of it.



Struggling to answer her in kind, he managed, “Heaven forbid. I’m very fond of my ears.”



The woman blinked. Then she let out a bark of laughter. He’d often heard the same sound from her youngest son, Ronald. Good humor seemed to be a familial trait with the Weasleys. Ginevra must have been that same ray of sunshine in her husband’s life. No wonder the man mourned her still.



“Then I’ll see an owl from you later, hm?” She strode to the floo, every inch the queenly matriarch, and flung the glittering powder into the fireplace.



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Severus prided himself on keeping a cool demeanor even in the tensest of situations. He had been a spy for the Order for years, following a crazed Dark Lord skilled in Legilimency while carrying out plots concocted by a daffy old wizard with a penchant for sweets and loud colors. He had managed to dance attendance on both lunatics without losing his calm or his sanity.



Both were being sorely tested this evening.



The twins were whispering furiously at each other while Harry watched them and Lily. In between his parental scrutiny, he was sneaking glances at Severus, a suspicious look lurking behind his eyes.



“For Merlin’s sake, I would like to enjoy a dinner in peace. Either stop whispering or just say what is bothering you and get it out of your systems,” Severus snapped.



As if floodgates had been opened, the boys started yelling, their words tumbling over each other.



“Douglas hit Lily!” James yelled.



“He said he didn’t.”



“But he lied! We saw it!”



“So we jumped him.”



“Hit him a good one,” James said with relish.



“Then Mrs. Kinderlieb said we had to go,” Albus said this with a quivering lip.



Severus rested his head between his hands. He hadn’t taken his antivenin potion, courtesy of Poppy’s threat, and he could feel a headache coming on. “One at a time, if you please,” he muttered between his teeth.



“Douglas wanted Lily’s lion. But she wouldn’t let go of it and that’s when he hit her,” Harry said, clarifying the matter.



“I knew that little hellion was trouble,” Severus ground out. “The next time I go to that orphanage I will hex him so that his fingers stick together!”



“Severus, please. It’s no big deal. The boys just have to stay away from the orphanage for a few days. It’s their punishment for misbehaving. We’ll be able to go back on Friday. And I trust you two will behave yourselves?” Harry asked them with a meaningful stare.



“Yes, Daddy,” they chimed with that faux innocence they mimicked so perfectly. Their father may have been fooled but Severus wasn’t.



Harry frowned. “James, Albus, I mean it. You don’t want Corabett to ban you from the orphanage, do you?”



The boys looked upset at that. Perhaps Harry wasn’t so easily fooled after all.



However, Severus privately vowed to teach that little Douglas a lesson. Maybe he could arrange it so that the boy was adopted by Hagrid. The man hadn’t had any children, even after marriage to that Madame Olympe. A lifetime spent in that dingy hut would be enough of a punishment for any spoiled child.



“So how was your day, Severus?” Harry asked. He tried to sound casual but subtlety wasn’t a Gryffindor trait.



“Very well.”



“Did you get a lot of brewing done?”



“Not much.” What was the man on about?



“I guess not if you were interrupted.” Subtlety was being abandoned, it seemed. Harry was staring at him and now the twins were staring as well, watching both their Daddies with worry etched large on their childish features.



“Interrupted?”



“Someone came to see you this morning after I left. Kreacher told me that someone had penetrated the wards.”



Blast, that shouldn’t have happened. Molly had come through the floo not Apparated or entered the front door. How had that lousy house-elf known?



Severus knew his face told Harry nothing; he had practiced impassivity too long. But the green eyes flared. “Aha! I knew it! Someone was here. Who was it?”



“Your house-elf was mistaken, Harry. Why would I hide it if someone came here?”



“I don’t know. But Kreacher isn’t mistaken about this kind of thing. He’s been a house-elf for the Black family manor for hundreds of years. He knows when someone comes into the house.”



“That is ridiculous. What he doubtless felt was an owl delivering my copy of the Prophet.”



“But we already get the Daily Prophet delivered. It comes in the morning,” Harry said with a frown. “Besides, Kreacher has never confused owls with live visitors.”



“I decided I wanted to get my own copy.” Severus made a mental note to start a subscription to the newspaper. It was a bother but he had spent too many years covering his tracks to slip up now. “And I didn’t want to mention this, Harry, but your house-elf is ancient even beyond that of most elves. Poppy herself said that she’d never seen one so old as he. Perhaps he is becoming senile in his old age.”



“What’s ‘senile’?” Albus asked.



“A kind of dementia that attends the elderly. A madness old people sometimes get. It makes them forgetful and prone to strange behavior,” Severus clarified.



“I don’t believe it.” The flat denial caused him to meet Harry’s eyes again. The man was glaring at him. “Kreacher has been cleaning the house, fixing the meals and tending to the children and doing all his chores just as well as he ever has. If anything were wrong with him, it would be showing in his work.”



“Doubtless, he performs his tasks as well as he ever did. That is a house-elf’s function. He could no more neglect his assigned chores than he could learn to fly. But I’m talking about his magical senses, which can fail with age. It happens to wizards; it can certainly happen to house-elves.”



Harry clearly didn’t buy this story but he was wavering. Severus knew that Harry still thought much like a Muggle. Muggles wandered in their wits as they got older; why not house-elves? Merlin knows the Dark Lord had been a few tiers short of a layer cake and the former Headmaster had often seemed to be nothing more than a dotty old geezer. So Harry had no idea whether house-elves became prey to dementia or not.



Truth be told, Severus wasn’t quite sure of his ground either. But Kreacher was extremely old, the most decrepit house-elf he’d ever known in his entire life as a wizard. Who’s to say that he couldn’t get a little barmy with age?



“Well, I always thought he was a bit daft, what with all that muttering he’d do to himself,” Harry murmured.



“Quite. Now… Lily, I have warned you about that lion,” Severus said sternly. The toy was on the table again and taking swats at the forks that James and Albus were waving above its head.



Lily laughed, ignoring him. Without warning, Severus pulled out his wand and pointed it at the furry toy. A muttered spell and it collapsed on its side, stiff and motionless.



Lily’s mouth pursed up and she began fussing, reaching for the de-Charmed toy. When it failed to return to her, she opened her mouth and let out a wail of childish rage.



“Severus, don’t be mean. Fix Lily’s toy and give it back to her,” Harry chided.



“I certainly will…with a few modifications.” Severus pointed his wand again and mumbled a revised Motion Charm. Then he levitated it over to Lily. It wafted into her outstretched arms and nuzzled her with its mouth.



The wailing ceased at once. Then she dropped the lion back to the table.



It stopped moving.



The girl’s brown eyes crinkled in distress and puzzlement. She picked up the toy and it twisted in her hand, batting at her skin with its paws. When she dropped it once more, it went still. She whimpered and snatched the toy back up, unhappy over its contrary behavior. But she didn’t release it on to the table again.



“What did you—Oh, I get it. You Charmed it not to move if she puts it on the table,” Harry guessed.



“Very astute, Harry. This will teach her not to bring the toy to the table or indeed to any flat surface more than one foot off the ground. That way she will refrain from releasing it while we are dining,” Severus said with satisfaction.



Harry beamed. Severus’s heart fluttered when he saw it. It was silly to get so excited merely from a smile. But images of that smile, that tousled hair, that firm youthful body raised over his own…



Merlin, he was getting an erection and with the children present. While he tried to will it down, Harry said smugly, “See? It’s possible to discipline children without terrorizing them.”



Severus turned to protest only to catch Harry’s kiss on his mouth. The man must have intended to kiss him on the cheek but missed when Severus turned his head.



The kiss deepened and that erection became a raging need that begged for Harry’s hand, mouth or arse. The man had yet to let Severus fuck him and he had to admit he wanted to give topping a try. Harry definitely could use a few pointers and…



His train of thought was broken when something soft collided with his head. He ended the kiss, though not without a delicate nip to Harry’s lower lip, and looked around to see the lion toy lying on the table. Lily was looking at him, the brown eyes sparkling with mischief.



“Dada Sevvie won liba?”



“What?”



“She wants to know if you want her lion,” Albus translated, giggling. His first reaction to Severus’s kiss had been “Yuck!” But his father looked so happy, like he hadn’t been since Mummy died, and he decided maybe kissing wasn’t so bad. At least, not when you were older.



Severus passed the toy back to the little girl and spoke with all the dignity he could manage. “Tell her I already have my own lion.” With that he placed his hand on Harry’s thigh, beneath the table, and squeezed it.



My, that was an interesting shade of red his bond mate was turning. Smirking to himself, Severus resumed eating his meal.





TBC