Sheltered Hearts
Prologue: Setting Up the Pieces
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Author's
Note: Well, this is not my first Harry Potter fic,
but it is the first I am publishing online, since it is the
only one I have typed up thus far. It is incomplete, I do hope to update
it regularly, but life is also hectic so Updates will
be when I am able. As such, I have no beta-reader, so
if there are problems feel free to email me.
There is no real Snarry sex until Harry is of age in the
wizarding world (that does not stop the very graphic fantasy/wet dream/wank)
Sheltered Hearts
by Shenkai
Major Pairing: Snarry
Other Pairings: APWBD/TMR, APWBD/HS,
APWBD/AM, EP/TMR, CW/OC, canon pairings
Spoilers: Takes place after Order of the Phoenix, during
Half-Blood Prince and Deathly Hallows (I have most of the DH portion done, but
am still working on the HBP) I do try to stick to canon (books) as much as
possible – the contents fits in the canon, very little AR.
Prologue – Setting up the Pieces
Valentine’s Day, 1948 – Hogsmeade Village
Albus Dumbledore, Professor of Transfiguration at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and
Wizardry, entered the side street to visit his brother at the Hog’s Head
Tavern, as was his usual custom when the rest of the students had time to visit
the village. He was disguised; his telltale red hair and beard were hidden
behind a purple balaclava, the purple matching his winter cloak. Both of which
complimented his lilac robes quite nicely. None of this could be seen, however,
since he had made himself invisible, but he liked to look nice all the same.
A girl, dressed in the deepest green travelling cloak he had ever seen, nearly
ran into him as she skittishly made her way down the side street. Her pallid
face came visible as her hood was knocked down, she had collided with the
barrel he was about to sidestep himself. She looked around, haunted black eyes
and a rather long sheath of black hair, she was almost vampiric, and in a very
attractive way. Were he attracted to the fairer sex, she might have turned his
head, as it was he was startled to realize that she was one of his students.
Normally, she wore an almost sour expression, no doubt exaggerated by her
hooked nose and stern eyebrows, but now, even with the obvious fear in her
eyes, she seemed almost happy. She drew her hood back on and emboldened by her
apparent anonymity, she continued with sure steps to the Hog’s Head, not
knowing that she was being followed.
He saw her immediately approach a table in the far back corner occupied by a man
who seemed to be sulking over a glass of fire whiskey.
“What did Professor Dippet say?” she asked concern evident in her voice. She was
standing next to him, combing his brown fringe from his forehead with her
fingers.
He looked up and his face was a bit gaunter than Albus had remembered it being,
though he was still quite handsome. His chocolate eyes had been hardened, but
gave him a rather arrogant aura, which was just the way Albus liked his men. These
orbs flickered from looking at the girl to looking at the exact spot where he
stood. The boy frowned for the tiniest fraction of a second before he turned on
a charming smile and looked back to the girl. “Professor Dippet would love to offer
me the job, but as he is retiring at the end of the year, he felt it would be better
if I apply with the new Head.”
She casually brushed the fringe from his forehead, tucking the honeyed brown locks
behind his ear. “So you’ll apply once the new Head has been appointed, and
you’ll be the most handsome professor at Hogwarts.”
He caught her hand. “These walls have ears. I’ve got a
room at the Three Broomsticks. I’m going to be travelling for a while, learn
some more, so come and give your betrothed a proper send off.”
Albus cursed as he sat up in bed, glaring accusatorily at his watch, then at the
scraggily, long blond hair of the naked man sleeping peacefully next to him. A well-muscled
arm was around his waist, and he felt that his leg was trapped between very
powerful thighs. At eleven o’clock, he would officially be late and have to
Apparate, use the Floo, or ride the Knight Bus to beat the students to school,
but then there would be no chaperone on the train. Still, it was only eight
o’clock, and he had a little time to be a hedonistic man before he had to
become a Professor and Headmaster once again. “Alastor,” Albus whispered in a
honeyed, yet urgent, tone as he reached out with long, slender fingers to brush
the unruly hair from his lover’s eyes.
“I thought you’d never wake up,” Alastor growled and soon he was giving his lover
a proper good bye.
students and their families. A dark pair seemed to isolate themselves from the
rest, almost as if they were trying to do something covert. The boy was dressed
in very old Hogwarts robes and was covertly looking at a Muggle family at the
other end of the platform. Older now, he could not help but see that the mother
of this boy was the same woman whom Tom Riddle had called his betrothed.
He searched his mind for her name. It was something very Muggle. Eileen?
The family name escaped him and he was suddenly eager to be back in his office. He was
not sure he was ready for Tom Riddle’s son to enter Hogwarts, especially if he was
like his father. Given the state of the world, and Riddle’s rising army, he knew
that if the boy were indeed Riddle’s son, he would keep a very close eye on him.
time ever, wished he could rush through the opening feast and return to his
private library. He welcomed everyone, started the feast, gave the usual start
of term notices and had to endure a nightcap after with Horace Slughorn
grumbling about young Sirius Black being improperly sorted. “And what is the
meaning behind planting that giant monster of a tree on the grounds, Albus? No
one is going to heed your warning until someone gets hurt. Mark my words;
someone is going to get seriously hurt by that tree.”
Albus got up from his desk, crossing over to Fawkes’s perch gently stroking the newly
reborn chick. “I have my reasons for the tree, and there is nothing I can do
about Black. I’ve had a rather long day, and would really like to turn in.”
Horace drained the last of the mead from his glass before he stood and strode over to
the door, sighing as he went. “And, alas, I am no Alastor Moody,” he said,
kissing Albus. He felt no return of the gesture or the sentiment behind it and
frowned. “Sorry, old chap, but I had to try. I do miss the fun times we used to
share – before Tom.”
Albus plucked a stray feather from the ashes. It was a gold-tipped, purple plume from
the phoenix’s crest left after the burning. He pressed it to Horace’s palm.
“You, my friend, were seduced by the glamour and charm, yet you did not allow
him to use that to try to influence you. I am afraid that you were the better
man, as far as the issue of Tom Riddle is concerned, even if I could not see it
at the time. He did not test or tempt me then, and I do regret that I let him
separate us the way he did. Despite all I said at the time, I did love you,
Horace.”
The potions master nodded. “And now you love Alastor.” He closed his hand around
the feather and the fingers that pressed it to his palm, letting the fingers
casually slide from his grip as he left the room, leaving the Head alone to
think about Tom.
He thumbed through the fourth volume of A Wizarding Genealogy to the
page that showed the Prince family. At the very end, it listed Eileen Prince joined to
Tobias Snape. It also showed her joined to an unknown wizard, from which branched the
line of Severus Hadrian Demetrius Marvolo Snape. His fingers underlined the Marvolo in
the boy’s name,and it was as if he highlighted it in the rest of the family tree. Her
great-great-grandfather was named Demetrius Marvolo Prince. As Eileen was the
very last Prince, it had now become extinct in the male line, and young Severus
would be the start of his own line, since his father was unknown.
“Enter,” Albus called, rising from his desk dressed in his favorite teal dressing gown
to greet his late night visitor.
A fairly young wizard, around thirty or so years in age,
entered. His long, thick hair hung to frame his face in shiny black curtains
that barely kissed his shoulders and he moved. His long, black robes billowed
around him as he glided with an almost careless grace towards the Headmaster’s
desk. It had been twenty years since he had first entered the school and still
Severus Snape was a mystery to the aged Headmaster.
The younger wizard bowed before speaking. “It has been put in place, and I’ve just
come from escorting Quirrell back to his office. Professor McGonagall is
overseeing the rest.” He paused, as if deciding if he wanted to continue.
“There is something odd about Quirrell.”
Albus smiled and nodded. “I am afraid that a year abroad can change people, and to
tangle with vampires probably made it even worse. The Dark Arts, some forget,
do require a bit of respect and are a little more volatile when encountered
outside a heavily warded classroom. I want you to keep a discreet eye on him,
in future, but right now I would rather talk to you about young Mr. Potter.”
Albus was now standing next to Severus by the fire.
Self-consciously, Severus moved a bit away from the Head, not liking people to get too
close. His need for personal space was greater than most, given his childhood and the
taunts he had received at Hogwarts from Potter and his band of marauders. “Potter? What
does he have to do with me?” Severus asked.
Albus smiled again, “He has his mother’s eyes.”
“I noticed. He is a bit on the twitchy side, or he was trying to draw attention to
that scar on his head.”
Albus narrowed his eyes. “What are you talking about?”
Severus backed away once again, looking casually at the gadgets on the desk. “During
the feast, he was looking around at the sights of the room, and then flinched,
pressing a hand to his scar like it hurt. I can only assume he spoke to Percy
Weasley about it, as he leaned in to speak with him shortly thereafter.”
Albus’s brow furrowed, thinking, lost in his own thoughts. Severus sighed, rolling his
eyes as he returned his gaze to the preoccupied Head. “I’ll take my leave of
you now, Sir, and I will keep an eye on Quirrell. There is something sinister
about him, and I can’t figure out what it is. He causes my infestation to
burn.”