By LastCrazyHorn

Word Count:

Rating: PG-13 for brief language, violence, and depictions of abuse

Summary: A disabled Harry comes to Hogwarts story. Everyone expects him to be like his dad, but how can he be with such a different past? A Slytherin Harry takes on Hogwarts in an unusual way.

Before the incident with Harry and Professor McGonagall, Hermione Granger had never even thought to question the decisions that her professors made, but now that her eyes had been opened, it was hard to go back to being ignorant.

Upon returning to school and her classes, her newly opened eyes showed her a multitude of things that she had never even thought to look for. Everyone knew that Professor Snape was biased against Gryffindors, but she had never really noticed how much grief the other professors gave the Slytherins. Whereas a Gryffindor might get 5 points for a partially right answer, a Slytherin would be lucky to get even half of that for a clearer response.

Not all of the professors were as open about it as others, but overall, it was slowly becoming clear to her that her teachers were not the almost saint-like visages her mind had once portrayed them as. Instead, they were human and they were very much flawed.

These newfound realisations made her question even more of her understandings about the world she lived in. If a teacher could be biased in their treatment of the students just based on what house they were in, then couldn’t they also be equally biased about the information that they were presenting in the class?

Where did it stop? Did that mean that the authors of her textbooks were equally biased? Did that mean that the “truths” they wrote about were only half-truths? Did that mean that they ignored facts in order to push forth their views?

It hurt her head to think about these things, but she had to know. If she was right—and she suspected that she was—then she would have to change the way she learned; she’d have to find a way (or ways) to make her own knowledge of the world more equal to all the sides of the equation.

Who was to say that Light magic really was the best choice at all? Certainly the majority of the professors at Hogwarts seemed to think it was, but she could no longer truly trust them. After all, Professor Dumbledore seemed to be the figurehead for the Light, but it was evident from Harry that the man was nothing if not manipulating. Was that a bad thing? Could her headmaster justify his reasoning to himself when he slept at night?

“Of course he can,” Teddy had answered when she had brought her concerns to him. “Dumbles doesn’t bother to look at Harry and see how his manipulations have really affected him. He only cares for the result, not the process. According to him, the product is the important part, and if he has to ruin someone’s life along the way, well that’s not really his concern.”

“Then why does he do it at all?” Hermione had fretted.

Teddy frowned and edged closer to her before answering in an even softer voice than usual. “Harry thinks that Dumbles is trying to make him into some kind of weapon.”

“How?” She whispered. “Why?”

“The why is easy,” Teddy answered with a grimace. “Dumbles expects the Dark Lord to return, and he’s planning on using Harry to protect everyone.”

Hermione’s jaw dropped with that information.

“As for how, I think—and so does Harry to a point—that Dumbles is forcing him endure as much stress as possible in order for him to build up resistance for the war that he is likely to have to fight later on.”

“But, but we’re just kids,” she had spluttered, feeling her childhood slipping through her fingers at an ever increasing rate.

Teddy had merely narrowed his eyes at her plea. “I doubt that Harry has felt anything like a child since being dumped at his relatives’ house. As for me, I hate being a kid. You’re too small to fight back—visibly at least—and no one ever gives a damn for anything you have to say. I’ll be glad when I’m older and I can make people listen to me.” His eyes had flared frighteningly dark at this pronouncement and she had shivered.

It hadn’t been until later that she had truly understood his sentiment.

***

Severus had tried for a week to wrap his mind around being in a relationship with Moody and as of yet, he still could not stand the thought. In fact, the concept of even pretending to be with the man turned his stomach.

Before breakfast that Friday, he penned a short note to Moody and attached it to the leg of his hawk, Daralis. If he was right, then the blasted old man would show up on his doorstep that evening, invitation or not, but he didn’t feel like leaving it up to chance.

They needed to rework their plans. Without being in a formal bonded relationship, then the only other route was for Severus to be adopted by Moody; something that was becoming more and more preferable the more he thought about having to be intimate, or even quasi-intimate with the older auror.

Severus considered his sexual preferences to be a bit non-standard, even for the wizarding world, but the idea of sharing his bed with the creature that was Alastor Moody was too much for him to reconcile.

It’s not as though my bastard of a father left me anything worthwhile anyway, he thought bitterly.

He had finished the potion earlier that morning. Blood magic, although now illegal, had once been very popular among the purebloods; so while it was taboo to discuss the topic openly, it was still fairly easy to get access to the necessary ingredients and recipes.

The potion they would be using should the paperwork not work out—or maybe in addition to—was called amor et familia. The potion worked under the belief that family was not limited to only blood, but inclusive to all as long as there was love. It had long been used for integrating adopted members of one’s family more deeply into the traditions and strengths that pervaded one’s familial history. Not only did the drinker take on some of the physical traits of the adoptive family, but they also gained some of that family’s skills.

Severus had read that the physical traits could only be passed on to those adopted as youth, but given the wizarding world’s propensity for longevity, the term ‘youth’ could be anything from Harry’s age to Alastor’s.

His mother had made it known to him that the Prince family had almost always produced knowledgeable brewers and strong duellers, and he hoped that Harry got at least one of those skills. The boy could use as much help as he could get from them, which was why he needed both Severus and Moody as familial donors.

Severus didn’t know much about Moody’s family, but he did know that the older auror had been (and was) quite distinguished in his line of work, and that was no easy feat.

The original genetic material given to Harry from James and Lily Potter would still be present, but it would be added to by the blood and magic of Severus and Moody, hopefully combining together to create a very powerful wizard in Harry.

Now all that was needed was for Moody to arrive that evening. Severus cast tempus and sighed. It was nearly time for his first class of the day, and as he knew far too well, the first year Gryffindors and Slytherins never failed to be an interesting pastime. He hoped that they could refrain from blowing up too many cauldrons that morning. He wasn’t just wasn’t in the mood for it.

***

Minerva surreptitiously watched Harry Potter with his little horde of friends all that week. She needed to make her “apology” seem legitimate, and she supposed that it was, at least to a point. Regardless of how she felt about the boy himself, she owed it to the memory of his parents to keep him well—at least physically.

It was during the last class of the day, the first Thursday since they had resumed classes following the break, that she made her apology to Potter and his class.

“I wish to apologize to Mr. Potter before we begin our lesson today,” she began, somewhat amused by the sudden widening of eyes throughout the class of Gryffindor and Slytherin students.

“I was . . .” the woman pursed her lips for a moment before continuing. “I was overly harsh to you in our last class. I apologize for not seeing how ill you were that day.” She took her eyes off of him and turned to the rest of the class. “If you are ever feeling sick, please tell me and you will be excused to see Madame Pomfrey. Attempting magic while otherwise impaired is not healthy for you or for those around you.”

With that, she turned back to the board and continued on with the lesson.

***

Harry was all too aware of when he was being watched, given that Minerva McGonagall’s gaze was hardly what he’d call subtle. He wasn’t too surprised by her announcement in their class that day, but he was surprised to see how much honesty she had seemed to put into her apology. Of course, he well knew how easy it was to apologize for something while thinking of something else to garner the appropriate emotions for it. He simply hadn’t been aware that a Gryffindor would know of such things.

Or be able to think of them to begin with, he thought with a snort.

Of course, considering how many blunders a typical Gryffindor made in a day, it really shouldn’t have been a surprise to him that his professor understood the mechanics of making what seemed like a legitimate apology.

Apologizing for mistakes is something that Gryffindors and Slytherins have in common. Although, I suspect we snakes are usually better at it, but that doesn’t mean that people always believe what we have to say.

He turned over in his bed and pulled his blankets farther up around his shoulders. He got his best thinking done late at night when he was drifting off to sleep. Sleep wasn’t the escape that it was for many of his peers, but he’d take what he could get.

His mind drifted off in a new direction: Moody. The older man was a mystery, to be sure. He was fairly positive that he and Severus were planning something, and he was pretty sure it involved him in some way. He hoped they let him in on the scheme before it was too late, but since Severus was involved, he wasn’t too worried that it was something that could hurt him unduly. He trusted him more than he had ever trusted anyone else, and that was significant.

In fact, thinking of his head of house was enough to bring a smile to his lips, and here in the privacy of his curtained bed, he allowed himself to really express it.

Severus was the first adult that had ever kept his word to him, and Harry was beginning to get the feeling that there wasn’t much that would change that truth. Besides, the man actually seemed to care about him. That was a thought he wasn’t quite sure he could look too closely at yet, but he liked it nonetheless.

That night, Harry went to sleep with a smile on his face.

***

Moody showed up at Snape’s door exactly half an hour early, just to keep the younger man on his toes. He enjoyed toying with the Slytherin, if only because he could. Despite Snape’s arguments to the contrary, Moody knew that the man understood his worth in their current situation.

He knocked and then gave a twisted smile at the disgruntled look on Snape’s face at his early arrival.

“If you’re here, you might as well cease loitering in the hallway like some kind of dirty hoodlum and go ahead and come in,” was Snape’s greeting to him.

Moody grinned wider at that and strolled in. As he passed Snape, a wicked thought occurred to him and he quickly pecked the other man on the cheek before stepping all the way inside. Snape turned even whiter at the action, but waited to close the door before daring to say anything to him about it.

Unfortunately, that had been enough to start Moody’s ornery imagination and he was already prepared with a plan of response.

“You did not just . . . kiss me!” Snape very nearly spluttered, his face quickly changing from stunned paleness to murderously red.

“Why not?” Moody sauntered closer to the other man, amused when Snape backpedalled only to come up short with the wall behind him. “I admit, yeh’re a bit young for me,” here he moved his eye down Snape’s body and then back up again to see the other man’s eyes widen slightly.

He put out a gnarled hand on the wall behind Snape and leaned in closer. “But I can tell yeh’re built well under all these robes,” he said in a low voice, touching the front of Snape’s dark teaching robes with his other hand. He was close enough to hear the other man gulp and internally he let out a low snicker.

The chest under his hand tensed and he leant in almost close enough to kiss Snape on the lips, only to stop and take in the sight of a very distressed Slytherin. It was something he could cherish for years to come, and he intended to enjoy it.

“Or not,” he bit out gruffly, leaning back and stepping away to sit down on a nearby armchair.

It took a moment for Snape to follow him, but when he did it was swift.

“What in Merlin’s name was that!” Snape growled coldly, poking one long finger into the centre of Moody’s chest.

Moody grinned and said, “Fun.”

For a moment Snape didn’t respond, he just scowled and his fingers twitched as though he wanted to go for his wand but knew better. Then abruptly he turned on his heel and went to sit down on the opposite side of the room.

“You are a demented old pervert, Moody,” Snape said darkly, just barely loud enough for him to hear from where he was seated.

“Does that mean that yeh don’t want to share a sleeping bag with me?” He cocked on eyebrow and watched in hidden glee as Snape turned green at the thought.

“I’ve rethought this idea,” the other man said instead. “I think that the magic would take better if you adopt me.”

Moody had to give it to the man; he managed to say that without shuddering.

“I don’t suppose yeh have a daddy kink, by any chance?” He couldn’t help but add on.

“Cease this disgusting conversation immediately!” Snape growled back at him, wand in hand this time.

Moody just stared back at him for a moment before breaking into hoarse laughter. “Snape, yeh’ve got to admit, that was pretty damn funny.”

The glare that Snape gave back was even funnier and it was some time before Moody could speak again.

***

Harry and Teddy moved down the corridors to Severus’ quarters quickly that evening. They had just received word via their professor’s hawk that they were to appear there at the conclusion of dinner. Severus himself had been absent from the meal that evening, and Harry once again hoped that it had something to do with the mysterious scheme that Severus and Moody were involved in.

Sure enough, the door opened to reveal his professor and Moody engaged in a fierce debate of some kind. He and Teddy glanced at one another briefly before walking inside. Harry turned to make sure the door was closed and didn’t see Teddy talking to Moody and Severus.

“You’d best keep it civil tonight,” Teddy said shortly, glancing back at Harry who turned back toward them with a confused expression.

“Harry, Teddy,” Severus greeted them once he had both their attentions.

Harry raised his eyebrow but didn’t say anything. He was sure he could get it from Severus later on if need be.

“Please have a seat,” Severus said before calling for tea from the house elves.

That was another surprise for Harry. He knew that Severus usually didn’t like the little creatures enough to let them voluntarily into his quarters, but it seemed that tonight was different. Severus was strangely focused on something, and Harry looked forward to finding out what.

“Moody and I,” Severus said with a small grimace as though the thought of them ever doing anything together was enough to make him ill. “Have devised a way to keep you safe, Harry, and in the process, to give you a new home.”

Harry’s eyebrows rose at this, but still he didn’t say anything. He needed to know the full story before making any judgments on the information.

“Teddy,” Severus said, turning his head slightly to look at Teddy. “Tell Harry what you know of the skills of magical family.”

Harry watched as his friend’s eyes widened, and he had a feeling that he was the only one still in the dark about what was happening. He resisted the childish urge to scowl and instead turned his attention on Teddy.

“In magical families,” Teddy began slowly, his brow now furrowed with thought. “Especially the pureblooded ones, there are particular skills and talents associated within the bloodline itself. For instance, the Notts have long been known for our talent at working with dark creatures. There’s even a precedent for at least one or two members per generation to be able to find and then bond with magical creatures that the rest of the civilized world considers too dangerous to even go near. Depending on a wizard or witch’s power level, the gift either manifests during puberty or else after that person reaches their majority.”

“Aren’t there other people with this skill?” Harry asked.

“Yes, but for other people outside of the Nott family itself, such a skill has to be learned and cultivated. Within my family, it is simply as natural as anything else.”

Harry frowned and then turned his attention back to Severus, who was watching them both closely. “What skills are known in your family?”

With a small smile, Severus explained that as a half-blood, his mother’s side of the family were the ones with the long history of magical skills. “The Princes are known for producing strong duellers and competent brewers.”

“More than competent, from what I’ve heard,” Teddy said, repeating what he had said for Harry after he turned his attention back to him.

“Thank you, Teddy,” Severus inclined his head with a nod once both boys’ eyes were on him.

“And what about you, sir?” Harry asked Moody, his green eyed gaze intent upon the older man’s face.

Severus also raised an eyebrow at his question, since the other man had not yet felt fit to reveal it to him as of yet either.

“Moodys tend to have an affinity for defensive magic, and also to a lesser extent, the ability to accurately read the emotions of others,” the old auror answered back, speaking slowly enough so that Harry was able to follow easily. He knew that he didn’t have anywhere near Snape’s enunciation prowess, and this was important for Harry to understand.

“So how do you propose finding me a new home? Have you convinced some other hapless family to take me in?” Harry asked, finally giving into the urge to scowl.

He remembered all too well what he had seen in the Mirror, and he didn’t have to fool himself into thinking that his desires were anything except foolish. He didn’t belong anywhere and everyone knew it, especially the headmaster.

“Harry,” Severus said, getting up and kneeling down on the floor in front of where he and Teddy were seated.

Black eyes looked steadily into green, and Harry swallowed down the more intense emotions he felt trying to expand outwards from his chest.

“I want to adopt you, Harry,” Severus stated, reaching out and gathering both of Harry’s hands into his much larger ones.

Harry looked down at his hands, down to the one that stayed gloved more often than not nowadays, and tried not to fidget. One of Severus’ hands moved from holding his hands to touching Harry’s chin, and he glanced back up at his professor’s dark eyes.

“All of you, Harry. Unconditional love means that I love you in spite of your faults and your mistakes. I’m proud of you no matter what you do. You don’t have to earn your place with me.”

Harry breathed out hard through his nose and pinched his lips together as he tried to keep the tears from exploding out of his eye. He blinked hard when that didn’t work, and then finally he leaned forward and let Severus hold him against a warm chest. He felt Severus’ mouth moving over his head, but didn’t want to break their embrace to see the words.

He wanted to imagine that the man was saying, “I love you,” but at the same time he was afraid to look.

Severus seemed to understand that, and in the next moment the man’s hand moved between their bodies, down to rest just over both of their hearts. He could feel his heartbeat thumping wildly against a stronger beat and finally he understood the truth.

Severus loved him.

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