jharad17 - Whelp

"Fang!" someone shouted. "Geroff there, ye great beast. W'at ye have there?"

With a last sniff and lick of Harry's eyebrows, the huge dog leapt off him and circled around to go to an even huger man. Harry, lying on his back, looked up and up and up . . .

"Harry?" the man said, and his face showed surprise. "Is it you, now? Harry Potter?"

"Harry Snape, sir," Harry said, getting to his feet. He ran his shirtsleeve over his face, to wipe some of the drool off. Sticky! Fang had collapsed on the front stoop of the cottage and laid his head on his paws. "My name used to be Potter, though," he admitted.

"Ah, righ'. Professor did mention som'at about tha'." The man smiled at him and took a step closer. Each of his hands looked the size of a platter, and his feet were covered in shoes as big as dustbins. His beard looked large enough to use as a blanket. "Was wondrin' how long it'd take ye to find yer way down 'ere."

"I've just got in, sir," Harry told him. "On Friday. Father says you're gamekeeper, and that you're genie-all."

"Oh, now, call me Hagrid, lad. What's he mean, genie-all?"

"He meant you're kind, Hagrid, sir. He told me a story, about when you tried to keep Streelers, for bedtime last night. And how you wanted 'em as pets, even after the Headmaster wanted them all gone, 'cause of the wreck they were making of the gardens. They sound brilliant!"

"Ah, well, that was a long time ago." Hagrid had turned a bit red, but he was smiling. "Care for a bit of tea, Harry?"

"Yes, sir!"

"Righ', then, come on in and I'll set th'kettle on. Fang, move your lazy hind end!"

---

TBC . . .with Snape's conversation with Dumbledore . . .

A/N:Thanks, as always, to everyone who reads and reviews, or offers commentaries or corrections or what all. You guys are the awesomest! Next chapter, probably Monday.

*Chapter 19*: Chapter 19

Whelp -- Chapter 19

By jharad17

Disclaimer: I'm not blond, nor rich. 'Nuff said.

A/Nat end.

---

In the Headmaster's office, Severus sat with his head in his hands, and tried to hold his emotions in check. When he thought he could speak without breaking down, he said, "I don't think I'm cut out for this. I think we made a mistake."

"Why don't you tell me what happened, dear boy."

"Harry had a nightmare."

Albus nodded, an understanding smile on his lips. "Not his first, surely."

"No," Severus agreed. "But this was the first time I couldn't rouse him from it. And I had been drinking."

With a frown, Albus said, "Are the two related?"

"I don't know! Maybe. Probably. I should have remembered. I saw it in his memories. Vernon's," he snarled the name. "He was always more violent when he was drinking. Of course the boy would remember as well. And I spilled it, and he was crying, and biting his hand, like he shouldn't make any sound at all, and the blood . . ."

Before he realized it, Albus was beside him, a hand on his shoulder, and speaking, but it took a moment for his to hear the words as anything but condemnation. "Shh, Severus. Take a breath. He'll be all right, I'm sure."

"Will he?" Severus shook off the Headmaster's hand and was on his feet in a heartbeat. The thumped a fist on his chest. " I reminded him of that awful place, of his horrid uncle. I frightened him enough that he tore a chunk out of his hand to keep from crying! I can't do this, I can't hurt him anymore, Albus!"

"Severus, please. Calm yourself."

"I don't want to be calm, dammit! I want to go back to their despicable, hateful house and kill them. I want to send them to the Dementors, and I want to watch them lose their souls."

"And your wish for Harry?"

His pacing brought him near the fireplace, and he rested his head on the mantle. "I want him to be safe."

"He's safe with you."

Severus shook his head. "He isn't. I think I healed the hand well enough, but only time will tell. What if he never gets back function of it? He won't tell me when he's hurt, just says he's fine. I can't be good for him, though I try. My temper . . . there must be someone else."

"No. You're the only one who can do this now, Severus. You're the only ones the wards would form for."

"Albus, there must be someone else who loved Lily, who can take him. Someone more stable, more together . . . less like me." He couldn't bear the thought of giving the boy up, but he wanted more than anything else, for Harry to be safe . . . for him to feel safe.

"I'm afraid it's not as easy as that," Albus said quietly. "The ritual--"

He whirled around to glare at the Headmaster. "Was flawed! I know it and so do you. What the hell happened to Harry? The ritual should have made him change slowly, but he's . . ." Severus hung his head. "I don't know what he is."

"He's your son."

Sighing, Severus said, "Yes, I know. The ritual . . ." He looked at Albus, who was holding his gaze, and the knowledge hit him like a bludger. "You don't mean because of the adoption."

"No. He was already your son."

"That's impossible! I counted . Lily--"

"Was brilliant at Charms." Albus smiled gently. "And should have been sorted into Slytherin, I think. She . . . adjusted things, in James' favor."

"For Merlin's sake, why ?"

"Do you really need to ask?"

No. He really didn't. It was so long ago, it was hard to dredge up specific memories, but he recalled how terribly alone he'd been feeling the night he and Lily were together. He had been working as a spy for Albus, for the Order, for almost a year at that point, and had no one to talk with about any of it, except for Albus, who had very little time for him, aside from reports.

He knew Lily was dating James at the time, but they seemed to have entered a cooler phase of their relationship, and he'd mentioned it to Lily after a meeting one September night, that she seemed sad. She'd broken down, and cried on his shoulder, about how James was being a prat --well, he knew that ! -- and how she couldn't believe some of the things he'd say to her, or about other people. Over the course of the evening, they talked like they hadn't done since school, and when he kissed away the tears on her cheeks . . . well. One thing led to another.

Yet, inside of two weeks, she'd announced her engagement to James, followed in less than a month by their wedding, and Harry had been born in July, a good ten months after their one night together.

"No. It was ten months. She couldn't have . . ."

"Severus, give an old man some credit. Lily knew if it was discovered that the child was yours, your position in Voldemort's inner circle would have been compromised. She came to me, asking if I knew any way to delay the baby's birth, without harming him, of course."

"You . . . you helped her? You kept this from me, all this time?"

"I'm sorry," Albus said. There was nothing but sincerity in his voice. And Severus hated him for it.

"You're sorry! Just think what kind of life I could have given him, if only I had known! He would never had been with those Dursleys to begin with!"

"And your Potions Mastery?"

"Sod my potions! Why didn't you tell me? If not at the beginning, then at least once the Dark Lord was gone?"

"For the same reason Lily had to hide this from you." Albus' eyes were clear blue, and twinkle free. "Severus, there are still servants of Voldemort's at large, who would do whatever they could to harm the boy. You know this better than anyone. I thought he would be better off with protections from Lily, leaving you free to continue your work for the Order."

"And we see how well that worked out." Severus sank back in his chair, head back in his hands. He couldn't believe it. Harry was really his son. "What about the ritual, then? Why did it work at all?"