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Harry had to keep it a secret.
Severus emphasized this point at least a dozen times before they left Spinner’s End that morning. Harry was dropped off near the train station but couldn't bring himself to part with the man before wrapping his arms around Severus one last time.
A mistake.
His guardian stiffened under the unexpected touch, rigid hands briefly patting his back before Harry was gently pushed away. Severus muttered his usual obligatory “This cannot happen at Hogwarts” slogan and then Disapparated. Harry was left alone to navigate the journey to the train station.
A small part of him wished Severus would see him off properly until the Hogwarts Express departed, and Harry could wave at him the same way other students waved at their parents.
But he couldn’t be greedy. Severus was not his parent - far from it. The adoptive papers might have said so when Severus signed the official documents during the summer, but it was… a formality. It didn’t mean much, Harry kept telling himself.
It could not mean much, as Severus wasn’t the parental type. Harry felt it every time he attempted to get a bit of physical closure; like the goodbye hug earlier.
Harry couldn’t be greedy, but damn, he was so touch-starved it was embarrassing. Even as a fresh thirteen-year-old, he couldn't suppress the emptiness that ripped his chest open, leaving a raw, gaping hole behind. And it hurt. The absence of touch was a constant ache, a void that Severus's occasional gestures couldn't completely fill.
The man had learned about the extensive neglect by the Dursleys during his first year. When Harry asked if he could stay at Hogwarts during the summer after the fiasco with Quirrell, Severus didn’t allow him to return home.
Instead, he took him to his house, despite Dumbledore’s protests. Harry was introduced to a side of Snape he had never seen before; his human side. Harry was given his own room, three meals a day, access to books of magical origin, a backyard he could use for leisure activities, and even flying…
The summer after Harry’s first year was strange. Strangely perfect. It was a haven, a respite from the tumultuous life he'd known. But the whispers of doubt lingered, questioning the permanence of this newfound sanctuary.
The second year was anything but perfect, with the Basilisk roaming around and all, but Severus was there, and he helped. He listened, he cared, and then he grounded Harry for doing something as stupid as going to the Chamber of Secrets with Lockhart and Ron…
Harry snapped back at him, blurting out that Snape was nothing to him, and that he had no right to order him around. It was a cruel thing to say, slipping out of Harry’s mouth in the heat of the moment. But since Harry had almost died multiple times not long ago, his emotional balance was in shambles.
Severus left the hospital wing without another word, not sparing Harry a glance.
Harry knew he had done it. He ruined the only good thing that made his life infinitely better. He ruined his only chance at having a proper home. Or so he thought.
Severus came back two days later with adoption papers.
Harry almost had a heart attack, then a panic attack, and then he ugly cried. Severus watched him impassively go through these stages, and then the man stated nonchalantly that he now had the right to order Harry around.
Harry laughed about it for days.
His second summer at Spinner’s was just as perfect as the first one, if not better since the pair was already used to their dynamics and rules.
But as the start of Harry’s third year approached, Severus got jittery. A week before the term started, he began his lectures about Harry’s behaviour during the semester and how nobody could find out about their new (and now permanent) arrangement.
Harry knew; he wasn’t stupid. Nobody except Dumbledore was aware of the adoption, and Harry himself wanted it to stay that way. He imagined Ron’s disturbed look if he ever found out, he imagined the possible ways his Gryffindor friends would react, how Slytherins would behave, and it was scary, to say the least.
It still stung, though.
Harry’s chest ached when he went through the train station alone, with a heavy suitcase and Hedwig’s cage on his trolley. His lungs burned unpleasantly when he saw happy families saying their last goodbyes while he stood further away, alone.
It was naive to think his whole life would change with something as simple as an adoption; except there was nothing simple about it, and Harry truly dared to wish for familial love. His heart craved it, yearning for the warmth of a family that went beyond the ink on adoption papers.
As he waited for the train to arrive (he was early, for once), he relished the feeling of Severus’s arms patting his back earlier during their goodbye. It brought him some comfort, like all scarce human contact Harry had ever experienced.
Then, Ron and Hermione arrived and interrupted Harry’s daydreaming, and they all boarded the train.
Only one compartment was unoccupied, save for the man sleeping in the window seat. The trio ignored him and began talking about their summers (Harry lied and made something up about helping the Dursleys as his pastime). They discussed upcoming school, the elective subjects each of them chose (Hermione had an astounding list), and other mundane topics.
The journey was passing quickly, as always, until the train halted suddenly.
“That was fast,” Ron remarked and stood up, beginning to gather his things.
“We’re not there yet,” Hermione stopped him, a frown decorating her face. They truly weren’t at Hogwarts yet; wild nature surrounded the train from every direction.
“What’s going on?” Harry asked, but before they could figure it out, Ginny and Neville invaded their compartment, asking the very same question in hushed voices.
The man - Remus Lupin - who was pretending to sleep not long ago was now up and about, instructing the kids to wait while he talked to a train crew.
The compartment felt claustrophobic to Harry’s liking once it was crammed with his friends, but he squeezed his eyes lightly once, and the panic subsided.
The air got colder as they all waited in anticipation for Lupin to return. Windows were coated in frost. Hermione wondered if she could cast a warning charm, her teeth clattering as she spoke, but Ron stopped her, citing the Ministry law about underage magic.
Harry rubbed his palms together, breathing warm breaths on his chilled skin, listening to the others conspire about the situation.
The train suddenly dipped, as if something very heavy got on board. It shut everyone quiet. Ron instinctively put a protecting hand around Ginny, nudging her closer to him.
They all felt the feeling of foreboding, sinister and suffocating. Harry's breath caught in his throat, a shiver running down his spine as the atmosphere darkened.
The door swung open with force, and Harry heard Hermione stifle a yell next to him.
He pulled out his wand, damned be the Ministry law about underage magic; the creature in front of them was posing a danger while all his friends were frozen in fear. He had to do something.
But before he could think about a spell to cast, the hole in Harry’s chest got bigger. So big he felt himself being swallowed. His vision tunnelled, and suddenly, he wasn’t seeing the cloaked monster anymore. He wasn’t seeing anything; he just felt and felt everything he ever avoided — loneliness, sadness, despair, abandonment. He felt being crushed, and then there was a voice, a panicked voice, begging for his life, begging “Not Harry, please…”
He woke up with a sore neck, his body shivering. Squinting his eyes, he felt around for his glasses, and someone handed them to him.
“Easy, Harry,” a voice said. A warm voice. A foreign voice.
Harry wished he could absorb the warmth from that kind tone, to heat up his freezing insides.
“It’s alright,” the voice said again. With glasses on his nose, Harry could finally see that it belonged to Lupin. He was looking at him with worried but understanding eyes.
“What happened?” Harry croaked, propping himself up on his elbows. He was lying across the three train seats, bent limbs aching in discomfort.
“Eat this. I have to go check on the others; Ron and Hermione will fill you in,” Lupin said and placed an unwrapped piece of chocolate into Harry’s palm. Then, he was gone.
Harry turned to his unusually quiet friends. Neville and Ginny must have left at some point because it was just the trio occupying the compartment.
He opened his mouth to ask something but then closed it again, words failing him. Chills seeped into his bones, and memories of the incident earlier rushed back to him. Harry had to grit his teeth to stop them from clattering.
Nobody spoke for the rest of the short ride.
Harry drew his knees up and to his chest, hugging them closely. The uneaten chocolate was forgotten in his fist. Goosebumps kept coating his skin, the begging voice reverberating in the depths of his soul. He was in a trance, trapped. The chill in the air mirrored the cold grip of fear that refused to release him.
The train began to slow down, a sign that they were almost at Hogwarts. When they stopped fully, neither of the three children moved.
Harry was hyper-focused on the way his body kept trembling, clenching and relaxing his muscles in a futile attempt to warm up. He didn’t notice when they arrived, and he barely registered the commotion happening outside the compartment.
The door swung open, hinges crying under the sheer force of the sudden movement. Yet another figure wrapped in a black cloak entered the space, but this one did not cause Harry’s vision to dim.
“Out, both of you,” a nasal voice ordered. It was cold and stern, a huge contrast to Lupin’s previous attitude, yet Harry latched onto the familiarity.
Hermione and Ron shared a look and then both stood up, obeying the command; a sign they were too out of it to care if Harry was left alone with Snape or the sheer oddity of it.
The door closed, and Harry’s adoptive father approached him, the sound of his robe swishing in the air.
"Harry," Severus spoke, his voice softer than usual, reflecting the worry he couldn't entirely conceal. He knelt in front of the boy, descending on one knee to level their height.
Still lost in the images of the creature’s intrusion, Harry didn't respond. His unfocused gaze kept looking forward, past Severus, unseeing him. He embraced his legs a bit tighter.
Severus observed Harry with a discerning gaze, taking in the paleness of his complexion and the residual tremors that lingered in his limbs.
"Come now, Harry," Severus urged, reaching out to take the crumpled piece of uneaten chocolate from Harry's unyielding fist. Severus discarded the mushed sweet with a frown, noticing it was untouched.
"This won't do," the man muttered to himself, his usual stoicism momentarily giving way to a more caring demeanour. His hand rested on Harry's shoulder, grounding him in the moment.
"Look at me," he implored, the worry evident in his dark eyes. The command was gentle but firm, and Harry obeyed at last, his now narrowed pupils meeting Severus's gaze. The concern etched on Severus's face deepened.
“How are you feeling?” He asked tentatively, giving Harry’s shoulder a light squeeze.
Harry shuddered. “C-cold,” he managed to choke out.
Severus nodded. Then, to Harry's surprise, he reached to his neck and began undoing the buttons on his cloak. In one swift motion, Severus took it off, the black fabric flowing smoothly in his practised hands. With a gentle yet deliberate gesture, Severus enveloped the cloak around him. Harry was caught off guard for a moment, his wide eyes fixed on Severus as the cloak settled around his shoulders like a blanket. The unexpected warmth and the scent of potion ingredients created a comforting cocoon that grounded Harry amid his vulnerable state.
“What you’ve seen just now was a Dementor. They are formidable creatures, and they bring forth the darkest moments, your deepest fears. Feeling cold is a common reaction to their presence. Dementors have a way of drawing out the warmth, the happiness from within you.”
Severus spoke with a quiet authority, his hands returning to clasp Harry’s shoulders tenderly, with just enough force to be a constant reminder of his presence.
Harry swallowed hard after hearing the explanation, his chest exposed and raw with conflicted emotions.
“I've never... felt like that before. So alone,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. He tugged the cloak tighter around his body. “I- I fainted. I heard a voice, someone begging for me, for my life to be spared. It was terrible, Severus, like I was drowning in endless despair. It was- it was too much."
“I'm here now,” Severus said softly. “You’re not alone, Harry.”
He reached inside his pocket, pulling out a better-quality chocolate. He held it out to Harry. “Eat this. It'll help, I promise.”
Harry took the chocolate, the warmth of Severus's presence beginning to seep through the icy layers of fear. He unwrapped it slowly, the crinkling sound a soothing distraction. “Lupin gave me one too, but I couldn’t bear to eat it,” he said quietly.
Severus tilted his head, studying Harry closely. “Chocolate is a remedy for the effects of a Dementor encounter. It can help restore the sense of well-being that they take away. You need it.”
Harry hesitated for a moment before taking a small bite. Severus watched him, a subtle expression of relief crossing his features as Harry seemed to relax, if only slightly.
“Severus,” Harry finally spoke after a while, his voice steadier. He just realized something, and his brows formed into a frown.
“Why are you here? I mean, on the train. You said we can't appear too close at Hogwarts. What if someone sees?”
“I’m pretty sure everybody saw when I pushed students out of my way to get here,” Severus said. Then, he sighed.
"In this case, appearances are secondary,” his voice got serious again. “Your well-being is my priority; it always has been. I did say we shall keep the adoption secret, but that doesn’t mean I won’t be here for you should you need it.”
But you emphasised the “must keep it a secret” so many times I thought you wouldn’t be here in instances like this, Harry thought fleetingly.
Severus noticed Harry’s doubtful look mixed with confusion and breathed out heavily, switching his kneeling position from one knee to the other.
“You thought I’d leave you to fend for yourself during the year.” It was a statement. Harry opened his mouth to protest, but Severus shook his head to stop him. “Don’t, it’s written all over your face. Merlin, Harry… I should have phrased it better.” Severus apologized; voice tired. “I didn’t mean for you to feel like you can’t come to me if something happens. Quite the contrary. I, under no circumstances, want to relive last year’s Chamber of Secrets situation. Is that clear?”
The man waited until Harry nodded and then continued.
“What I meant was that I will be forced to… display some level of animosity towards you during the lessons and in public spaces – just like last year. I wanted you to be ready for this behavioural change from my side, and… not have your feelings hurt.” Severus said carefully. “Things have changed between us, and I am your legal guardian now, but because it must be kept a secret, I cannot fully step up and treat you the way I would want to all the time.”
Harry listened, puzzlement flooding his veins the more Severus spoke. The man had put so much thought into it and yet managed to convey his feelings in the worst way possible.
“I know that,” Harry rushed to say when Severus finished his speech. “I’m well aware of how we have to act when in public. I just… I just thought it applied to our private time as well.” He blushed, feeling embarrassed and stupid all of a sudden. “I thought I could not come and visit you sometime, to talk to you in my free hours.”
Severus frowned.
“You can most certainly do that if you are discreet about it with your friends. The arrangement stands the same as last year.”
“Yes, but… well…” Harry bit his lip and hesitated. He didn’t know what probed him to speak his mind after all; the aftershocks of meeting a Dementor, the warmth of Severus’s cloak draped around him, or the man’s intense, curious gaze.
“You get so reserved sometimes. Even when I hugged you this morning,” Harry felt his blush deepen, embarrassment rising to new heights. He didn’t mean to voice his touch-starved problem, yet here they were. “You said I can’t do it at Hogwarts.” He mumbled under his breath.
A flicker of understanding sparked in Severus’s eyes.
“You foolish child,” he sighed. “I said it because if you happened to embrace me in a Great Hall, I’m not sure which one of us would be shipped off to St. Mungo’s sooner.”
Harry was mortified by the suggestion, shaking his head vehemently. But beneath the surface, a sense of relief settled in. Severus wasn't rejecting him; he was merely outlining the limitations imposed by their circumstances.
"But," Severus continued, his tone softening, "that doesn't mean you can't seek me out privately. My quarters are always open to you, and you are welcome to visit whenever you please, just like before."
A grateful smile that tugged at Harry’s lips. The weight of loneliness that had gripped him earlier began to lift.
Severus reached out, ruffling Harry's hair. "I'm not heartless, you know," he said with a hint of amusement. "I may not be the most demonstrative person, but your well-being is important to me. Very important," he emphasized.
"Thank you," Harry murmured, his voice sincere. "I appreciate it, really."
Severus inclined his head in acknowledgement, his eyes softening. "You don't need to thank me, Harry. We may not share the same blood, but you are my responsibility, and I intend to fulfil it."
It was amusing, how troubled Harry felt that morning, yet one conversation with Severus turned his whole world around; and for the better. So what if he needed an encounter with Dementor to make his adoptive father’s true feelings surface? It was worth it.
“I think we should go,” Severus remarked, withdrawing his hands from Harry’s shoulders, and standing up. “Merlin knows what your best friends must be thinking by now.”
Harry snickered at that and stood up as well, stiff legs managing to hold him up steadily. He shed the cloak, returning it to Severus with slight reluctance. But even without the robe, warmth remained within Harry.
“If I knew this would happen, I’d never let you board the train this morning,” Severus mumbled conversationally, but there was some tension in his voice. “I’ll have to have a word with Dumbledore.”
“Don’t be too harsh,” Harry replied, smiling.
Severus raised an eyebrow, a hint of amusement playing in his eyes. "You seem overly concerned about my interaction with the Headmaster, Potter."
Harry grinned. "Well, it's not every day I get to witness you having a 'word' with Dumbledore on my behalf, Professor. Must be quite a spectacle."
Severus smirked. "Rest assured, I'm not planning to unleash the full extent of my wrath on the old man. I'll merely express my concerns about the security of the Hogwarts Express. Besides, I have had my share of heated talks with him after the Basilisk incident. Or anytime your safety is compromised, really.”
“So, all the time?” Harry chuckled.
Severus shot him a warning glance and opened the compartment’s door.
“Run along, or the train will leave for London with us still on board,” Severus dismissed, shaking his head.
Harry laughed and stepped out into the corridor, following Severus toward the exit of the train. The platform was buzzing with students and the occasional hoot of owls as they approached the familiar sight of Hogsmeade Station.
The hole in Harry’s chest was filled to the brim with warmth and… love.