Measure of a Man | By : SailorSol Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Snape Views: 71274 -:- Recommendations : 2 -:- Currently Reading : 1 |
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story. |
Disclaimer: They’re not mine. I’m just wishing. Characters
belong to J. K. Rowling. Song lyrics recorded by Clay Aiken.
MEASURE OF A MAN
Why do you ask him
move to heaven and earth
To prove his love has
worth?
Prologue: Surrey
Severus
Snape sneered as he viewed Privet Drive
in Little Whinging, Surrey. He had Apparated to his
current location to pick up Harry Potter from his relatives house and take him
to Grimmauld Place for some
extra training and security. The Order was also a bit concerned about not
having heard more from Harry than a terse ‘I’m fine.’ via owl every three days.
Lupin had insisted that something was wrong. Dumbledore, not wanting to lose
the only hope the Wizarding World had of defeating Voldemort, had sent the one
person guaranteed to get to the bottom of things.
Collecting
his robes around him, Snape walked down the street in the gathering dusk,
sighing in disgust at the rows of houses, all nearly identical, and the
similarly small-minded people that lived in them.
He had just
located his target, Number Four, when he heard muffled screaming coming from
the house, accompanied by the barking of a dog and, surprisingly, laughter. Not
the jovial kind of laughter that one would expect in such a place, but the
cold, heartless laughter that came at the expense of someone else’s pain. The
kind of soulless sound the Snape had heard countless times at Death Eater
meetings while some hapless muggle was being tortured; the kind of din that
came out of Voldemort on such occasions.
Snape
strode quickly up the walkway, determined to stop what was going on, even if it
meant ending his days as a spy. Somewhere in there was a child he, as a member
of the Hogwarts staff, was bound to protect.
As he
reached the door, the muffled screams became recognizable as being Harry
Potter’s.
Now
enraged, he nearly blasted the door off of its hinges and strode into the main
room of the house, and the source of the sound.
Sitting in
four stuffed chairs were a man who looked as if he had spent his whole life
doing nothing but eating, a younger male who was somehow even larger and bore a
familial resemblance, a woman who rivaled the man for size, and an almost
painfully thin woman. They were all laughing at the spectacle in front of them.
In front of
the fireplace was Harry Potter and a rather large bulldog. Potter was trying to
fight the dog off with little success. His ragged, ill-fitting clothing was
pulled half off of him, and blood reddened several places, mute testimony to
the sharpness of the animal’s teeth and the power of its jaws.
Without
thought of possible consequences, Snape aimed his wand at the beast.
“Stupefy!”
Five sets
of eyes turned to him. Four of them narrowed with suspicion, and one widened
with a desperate hope.
“What are
you doing in my house, you freak?” the man rose from his chair, his face
purpling both with the effort and with his rising temper.
“Freak?!”
Snape did not remember when he had been so angry before. This rivaled the fits
of temper that James Potter had evoked in him.
“It is
people like you, you miserable excuse for a human being, that are freaks.”
Snape managed to speak instead of cursing the man into imbecility. “It is
people like you who make it easy for those like the Dark Lord to convince
others that your kind should be wiped out. I am here for the boy. Do not get in
my way.”
“Ripper!”
the overlarge woman shrieked, which only made Snape point his wand at her and
mutter a silencing charm. He then turned his wand on the other three to find
them huddled together in abject terror. Normally such a display would have only
disgusted him, but this time it gave him a grim feeling of satisfaction that
they were feeling the fear and helplessness that they had made a wizard feel.
The large woman had toppled to the floor and was cradling the still form of the
beast, trying to wake it. Her bloated face was blotchy and tears cascaded down
her cheeks. Snape found it almost amusing that she was showing the animal a
compassion she had never shown the child that cowered nearby.
“Can you
walk, Potter?” he asked, using a tone much softer than he ever used at school.
“Yes, sir,”
Harry replied. “It’s only shallow bites. He didn’t get any deeper.”
“Get your
things, or do you require assistance?”
“My trunk
and my wand,” was the quiet reply. “They locked them in the cupboard under the
stairs.”
“I will
retrieve those,” Snape said, moving towards the aforementioned stairs. “Retrieve
anything else you want.”
The lock on
the cupboard yielded easily to a simple ‘Alohamora’
and Snape could easily see the trunk that the boy habitually brought to
Hogwarts every year. Atop the trunk was a cage with Potter’s snowy owl in it,
feathers puffed out, rocking from one foot to the other. She blinked at him, and
then hooted imperiously to be released.
“Absolutely
not,” Snape said to her. “Even though I agree that they would deserve whatever
you did to them, the Ministry would not, and you would be destroyed as a
dangerous creature. Then where would he be without you?”
The owl
blinked at him several times as if thinking about his words, then settled down
onto her perch, flipping her wings neatly to her sides. She looked decidedly
disgruntled, but she did not protest when he carefully moved her cage, shrank
the trunk and deposited it in his pocket, then picked up her cage.
“You will
be released when we arrive at our destination, and not until,” he told the owl,
using the same tone he used for demanding Slytherins. The owl settled down
further, proving that humans were not the only ones to be susceptible to vocal
tones.
Snape
returned to the main room, to find that the dog was awake and aware, and the
silencing charm had not yet worn off. The thin woman wailed in fear as he
pulled out his wand again, disgusting Snape more than he would have thought
possible.
“You are a
disgrace,” he told her, realizing that this must be Harry’s aunt Petunia:
Lily’s sister. “You know what magic is. You had a witch for a sister. You
agreed to shelter her son. You had all this, and you still cower like some
unknowing muggle in the face of danger. If I were a lesser man, I would show
you something to fear. Be glad that I am better than you.”
“Professor?”
Potter’s voice came from upstairs. “May I have a little help, please?”
Snape
mounted the stairs so quickly that it almost seemed as if he flew up to the
second floor. He found Potter sitting on his bed, trying to bind some of his
bloodier wounds. One of them was apparently deeper than either of them had
realized. It had completely soaked the crude bandage the boy had put on it, and
was rapidly soaking through a second that he had bound over the first.
“I can’t
get it to stop bleeding,” Harry explained. “The rest of them have just stopped,
but this one won’t.” He looked up at Snape, face twisted in anxiety.
Snape
hesitated for a moment, mentally sorting through the potions he kept in his
pockets at all times. Finally, he put down the owl cage, reached into the inner
left breast pocket of his robes and pulled out a phial filled with a greenish
fluid.
“Take the
bandage off, Potter,” he said. He watched calmly as the boy obeyed, and then
dribbled a bit of the potion into the open wound.
For a
moment, the blood continued to flow. After a moment, though, the torn flesh
began to seal itself, closing the blood back into the vein that the dog had
torn in its attack. Harry breathed a sigh of relief and pocketed the bloody
rags before standing up.
“I’ll
destroy them when I have time to,” he said by way of explanation. Snape smirked
despite the situation.
“Amazingly
well thought out, Potter,” he said. “If you were in school, I might have even
given you a point or two for your caution.”
“Professor
Snape,” Harry said, looking up at him in surprise. “Did you just complement
me?”
“Don’t get
used to it,” was the snappish reply. “Now, let us deal with your relatives and
be gone as quickly as possible.”
Harry
nodded, picked up a book bag off the floor and the owl cage, and preceded Snape
down the stairs.
The fat man
was waiting at the bottom of the stairs, and Snape’s already abused temper grew
even more when he saw Harry Potter do something he had never seen him do:
cower.
“Out of the
way,” Snape growled as Harry hesitated on the stairs.
“I’ve put
up with his freakish behavior for years!” the man yelled. “I’m not putting up
with it anymore! Get out of my house, Potter, and don’t come back! Do you hear
me? Now get out before I forget that Marge is here!”
“Yes Uncle
Vernon,” Harry said, with real fear in his voice. He rushed down the stairs and
attempted to get past his uncle without further incident.
With
amazing speed for a man his size, Vernon
caught Harry by the back of the head, twisting his fist into Harry’s hair.
“You just
remember this, boy,” he snarled. “If I ever lay eyes on you again, you’ll
regret the day you were ever born!”
“Release
him,” Snape said with quiet menace, his wand aimed directly at the fat man. “If
you do not, I will make you regret the day YOU were ever born.”
Vernon
took one look at the wizard looming over him and gulped, his normally ruddy
face becoming ashen. He snarled at Snape silently, but he released Harry and
stepped back. Snape swept down the rest of the stairs and led the way out of
the house.
Once
outside, Snape took the cage from Harry, placed a hand on the boy’s shoulder,
and Apparated both of them to the street in front of 12
Grimmauld Place.
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