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Recompense	By : Sparrowbirdie Category: HP Canon Characters paired with Original Characters > Slash - Male/Male Views: 3177 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, Pirates of the Caribbean, Midsomer Murders or Troy. I make no profit from writing this story. This is a work of fiction.

Chapter List
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There are times when I am on the verge of panic. Inside Severus, I was capable of defeating demons and affect the fates of mortals. I could usurp any dark wizard's power and change the very fabric of time. I sensed an awe in Severus, an unspoken respect and a concern that I might harm him. I was the powerful one and he accepted the role as servant as well as bearer.

Now, the roles have been switched. Being born was a shock from which I am still recovering. The physical pain of it was nothing. But this – this useless infant body in which I have been trapped – is just too much. It's now six months old, and I am just beginning to get the hang of controlling its limbs. I am constantly hungry. Hungry for food, hungry for Severus' company. For his arms, his skin, his smell. I spend my waking hours in his presence, exploring. I have to understand how things feel. How they work, the touch of the surface against my skin and how that makes me feel. I taste everything, hungry for knowledge. I manage to stand erect, and I get hold of Severus' newspaper. I've been wanting it for long. Severus is not looking. He's in the kitchen, and I manage to drag the newspaper down on the floor. The noise of paper tearing is wonderful! I taste it. I spit it out. Severus approaches from the kitchen. He stops in the doorway, gazing at me with amusement for a minute. I am sitting in a pool of newspaper shreds. He smiles proudly of my mischief managed. I smile back, knowing it gives him great pleasure to see me happy. He tidies up the mess I have made and I want to help him. I know what to do. I lift my tiny hand above my head, wriggle with my chubby wrist, and the wand flies out of his sleeve. I nearly succeed. The wand flies past my hand and hits the wall like a projectile. I turn, and crawl over to it. Severus watches me curiously while he absent-mindedly collects the remnants of today's Daily Prophet. I finally get the wand. I have to taste it first before I focus on what to do. It tastes of Severus. But getting the motion right is tricky. I can visualize it, but getting the hand to do it, is something quite different. A jet of fire goes off into the ceiling. It catches fire. I get scared as I realize what I've done. Setting the roof on fire was not my intention. Severus gasps and throws himself at me, shielding me. He takes the wand and stops the fiery madness. I am devastated, feeling like a complete failure. I just wanted to help! I wanted to make the paper fly straight into the bin. I cry. Tears stream down my chubby cheeks, and my thoughts fly to Severus' mind. He hushes and soothes me, picks me up and carries me off into the bedroom. Attempting to console me, he opens his linen shirt. A milky white breast – not so big as it used to be – is revealed. The obvious shrinkage is a strong reminder that these good times aren't going to last. The sight is combined with the smells of milk and his skin. Alluring and impossible to resist. I am laying on the bed, and he rests on his elbows above me. The breast follows gravity, and I latch on to his nipple. Milk flows as I suckle it, between sobs. The scent of his skin soothes me. He showers my forehead with kisses, his fingers comb gently through the mass of black hair. All of these signs of affection are so precious to me. There's nothing I'm more afraid of, than losing them. I cannot bear the thought of disappointing him, of Severus growing cold and aloof. That he should never touch me again, that I never should experience such care and tenderness. I am humbled by own helplessness and his stoic presence, his ability to remain calm, his unconditional love. I tell him that I need him. I beg him and I assure him of my love for him. He is flattered. His feelings of love are mutual. He hushes me, tells me that there is no need to get alarmed. He tells me I am his son, his own. His very own. I look into his brown eyes. I see my own reflection, and I read in them the honesty which understates his words. I tell him that I am despaired. That I'm not comfortable with being this helpless. And again, I watch as his soft lips part just a little. I wish I could kiss them. I want to kiss them. He plants a kiss on my forehead. On my left eyelid. He promises he will look after me and protect me to the best of his ability. He whispers those words, and soaks them with tenderness. His body is close to mine. He takes care not to crush me with his weight, laying on top of me. He gazes into my eyes. The weight of him, and the scent of him sends thrills throughout my tiny body. And I recognize the desire to discover this territory of flesh and bone which I know best on the inside. I want to smell him, to touch every nook and cranny of his body. I want to explore every centimeter. I want to escape this flesh and become one with him again. I want to feel what he feels. I want his orgasms, the thrill and the pleasure. I do not want this harsh reality, knowing that we are forever separated in terms of flesh. I want to be inside again.

I am one year old. I walk over to the tub and I grab the bottle of shampoo. I feel the urge to make more of those funny bubbles and to smell the scent of roses and jasmine. I turn my head to gaze at Severus. He looks at me. And not too sternly, he says 'no, Alistair. Put it back.'

I obey and put the bottle back in its place.

Severus turns his back for a moment. I take the bottle anyway, and I turn it upside down. A lovely scent fills my nostrils. I touch the liquid with my fingers, and do what he has taught me, which is to put it in my hair and on my body. I smear it onto my shirt, and into my dry hair. Severus catches me in the act. He takes the bottle from me, sits down and says: "Alistair Lilian Snape. I said no. Look at you! Enough mischief!" His voice is a little stern now. I am – on the other hand – quite proud of myself. Strictly speaking, I haven't played with the shampoo at all. I've only mimicked what he showed me. My body. My hair. I tell him so, and I plaster an innocent yet proud smile on my lips. Severus cannot help but to smile back. Why do we have to bathe? I ask him, and Severus is puzzled by the question.

"We have to keep clean. So we don't get diseases. And it's much better to smell nice than to smell foul" he answers with an afterthought. I catch a stray thought. Severus is thinking about his past. There were years when he grieved Lily Evans so badly, he hardly paid any attention to his exterior. Difficult years, when the only thing which kept him going, was his duty as a Potions teacher at Hogwarts. We. He always says 'we'. It's no longer 'I' or 'me'. It's 'we'. Him and I. I and him. Us. We. Team Snape.

There's not much milk left in his breasts now. Just enough for a light dessert. A quick sip and lots of cuddle before I nap or go to bed. I get so tired so easily, in this body. I rest a lot.

January 9^th. He celebrates our birthdays, mine in particular. I am confused. Severus has bought a cake, and put two small burning candles on it. One for me, one for him. I begin to cry, not understanding why he acts this cruel all of the sudden. I want to be in his arms, but I run away and hide underneath the kitchen table, my favourite place. Why are you so mean to me?!! I ask him in his mind. Why do you celebrate the day when I was forced out of you?! Why do you hurt me by reminding me of my most painful memory?!! My day of birth was a day of great sorrow! I hate this body!! I hate this life! I hate being separate from you!!

Severus falls silent. He understands now, regretting his actions committed in good faith. How can you celebrate your own birth as well? You were no longer permitted to be one with your mother!

“Alistair” Severus sighs,”We – celebrate our birthdays because it means we have been able to live a whole year longer. It's a celebration of our beings, of who we are. Normally, a birth is a happy occasion”.

How can it be a happy one?! It's a heavy ordeal for both parent and child, with nothing but toil and pain! And fright and agitation and separation!

“It's a fair point of view” Severus agrees with me. He sits down on the kitchen floor, looking at me patiently. His face is covered with pride. I wonder why. “You must remember, my young son, that your birth was not all bad. I longed so much to see you. Despite the fear, and the pain, and the blood. I have loved you from the moment I realised you were there, and you have pulled me in with your love for me. And my love for you – is so strong – that any other feeling whither away in comparison. I choose to remember the anticipation, and the moment when I could actually touch you and hold you. Everything else is – irrelevant.”

I hear his soothing words but do not quite believe them. Is it possible to forget such an expulsion? I remember the sweet smell of the cake. I crawl out from underneath the kitchen table and into his lap. I allow myself to be carried back to the living room, where the cake with the candles await. I watch while he blows them out. He puts forth a plastic plate with a piece of cake. I sweep the plate from the table with a demonstrative motion. It lands on the living room floor. The piece of cake is plastered out all over the floorboards. I place myself on his lap, pick up my spoon and dig it into Severus' piece of cake. I eat in silence, with a lump in my throat and tears streaming down my face.

“Well, I must say. Look what a fine young man you've grown to become”. Minerva McGonagall knelt before the boy and beheld him. She put on a big smile, and it was a genuine one. When she'd last seen the offspring of Severus Snape, he'd been but a few days old. “Pray tell, what is your name?” she asked him kindly.

“Alistair” Alistair replied. He held on to the fabric of his father's right leg. He touched the hem of her consciousness, and could tell that she was in deed pleased to see him and the way he'd evolved. Above him, Severus fought to maintain discipline, but failed. He couldn't stop from smiling.

“How old have you become, Alistair?”

“Two” the brown-eyed boy replied. But when she rose to stand before him, he checked his emotions and wiped the grin away.

“Two whole years?” Minerva smiled at him. “And already so eloquent” she added. “Tell me, do you have a favourite toy?”

“Yes” Alistair replied.

“And what would that be?” Minerva asked softly, eagerly awaiting his reply. But Alistair turned and buried his face in the fabric of his father's trousers. When no reply came, she stood to face Severus. “The boy likes to keep secrets. Just like his father.”

“He's wary of strangers” Severus replied apologetically.

“And with good reason” Minerva said, “considering how there's a new picture of the two of you almost every week!” She eyed him when saying this, understanding that he wasn't oblivious to the fact that reporters seemed to stalk them despite the eudaimon's warnings. The very first picture of Severus with Alistair as an infant, had gone around the world. It showed Severus walking down the street. A tiny bundle wrapped in a large shawl which was utilized as a carrying sling, indicated that the eudaimon's offspring in deed was born. But there was nothing to be seen, not a hand or a foot or a tiny face. Severus held his hands protectively around the bundle on his chest as he walked down the street towards the marketplace. And he was escorted by the Malfoy eudaimon. He made his purchases, ignored the flashing bulbs around him which were kept at bay by the eudaimon. He had walked home. Alistair had been three months old when the world had seen his face for the first time. Severus had wrapped the shawl differently this time, so the head was visible. A tiny, pudgy baby face with big, brown eyes. A hint of black, fluffy hair protruding from underneath the baby cap. The picture was blown up to cover half a page in the Daily Prophet. A close-up of a smug, tender looking Severus soothing his infant with a kiss to the forehead. The child looking up at his father with big, trusty and tearful eyes. Several annoying comments from psychologists and 'experts' on human-eudaimon relationships beneath the moving photo.

'Family bliss for ex-Death Eater'.

'Former Death Eater Severus Snape with his eudaimon prodigy, were seen yesterday shopping groceries at London's market. Seemingly unaffected by his eudaimon escort, mister Snape had eyes only for his child. Bystanders witnessed what they described as 'several touching moments between father and son'.'

'What we have here is clearly a conscientious father, by the looks of it. The child looks well-nourished, dressed accordingly to the weather, and it has been wrapped close to the body in a way which prevents the neck from obtaining an injury. Snape displays great care and affection for his offspring, which stands in stark contrast to the behaviour of his eudaimon escort, who reportedly fathered Snape's offspring.

'It is unexpected to see such territorial behaviour with another target when the Malfoy eudaimon already has established someone else – Draco Malfoy – as the official bearer of his young. This can only mean that eudaimons sometimes establish their own harems. A behavioural pattern which up till now never have been observed before.'

'As blissful as it may seem on the surface, we may never know the true deal between Severus Snape and the Malfoy eudaimon. It is quite obvious to those of us who choose to see past Snape's mask of so-called redemption, and ask: If the price was to bear the eudaimon's prodigy, what sort of favour did this former Death Eater ask for, in the first place? And the reason why it is so important to ask this question, is this: If Severus Snape was a target of the eudaimon, then he would have been dead long ago. Instead, his life has been prolonged, just like that of Draco Malfoy's. And we all know which direction he's going. Which is to Hell.'

'It's not difficult to understand why the eudaimon made Severus Snape with child. According to several of his acquaintances, the former Hogwarts professor had a formidable knowledge of the dark arts. It is also prudent to remind the public that it was very likely that Lord Voldemort had the knowledge of scrying, and thus he might have seen his own future and subsequent death. It would have been extremely easy for a dark arts professor of Severus Snape's magnitude to simply have fetched Lord Voldemort's soul back from the waiting hall of Hell in due time. The ritual would have required a sacrifice, as Voldemort would have manifested inside Snape and grown into an infant. A procedure which would bear great resemblance to the actual bearing of the eudaimon prodigy. The birth of this eudaimon remains an enigma, however the dark ritual states articulately that in due time, the bearer would have to undergo some kind of c-section. Many anonymous former supporters of the dark lord argue amongst themselves that Snape was either prevented by the Malfoy eudaimon from performing this ritual because he was impregnated with the eudaimon offspring against his will, or Snape himself chose the eudaimon prodigy instead of bearing the reincarnation of Lord Voldemort. Which, in the latter case would make him a triple traitor to those of us who remain loyal to our dark lord.'

Back in present time, Minerva McGonagall eyed Severus. A sudden voice entered Severus head, and he glanced down at his son. Then back up at Minerva.

“Alistair would like to invite you in for a cup of tea. He … likes you very much, despite your – uhm – wrinkles.” Severus cast his eyes to the ground not believing he had actually conveyed those imprudent words. Minerva gave a lopsided smile.

“Then I shall accept” she said, eyeing the little boy. “Now I understand” she also added, looking at Severus curiously. “At first I thought he was holding on to you because of a child's usual shyness. But he's not.”

“In deed. Alistair is simply protecting what's his. As if you might have a reason to – whisk me away in a matter of seconds …!” Severus spoke pensively.

“Which brings me to why I have called upon you at your home” Minerva concluded, obviously waiting for a further invitation to sit down.

“Do sit down” Severus said after taking the hint. Her presence still unbalanced him. All this time, and he could still count on his fingers the times he had been visited by someone from the outside. Draco Malfoy had been his most frequent visitor. Harry Potter had shown himself a few times, one of those times together with Ginny Weasley. They'd brought pie, but it still had been awkward. Severus didn't quite understand why, though he could see that Harry was aching with something which he obviously didn't know how to voice. And Alistair hadn't been helpful at all. The Malfoy eudaimon had started to show every time Severus was dealing with a practical issue. How to move outside with an infant, which left him rather immobilized and unprotected. Unwanted attention from former Death Eaters, threat letters and summons to meaningless interviews with Ministry officials. Deranged people who stood outside his door, shouting and demanding that he'd help them. They were the worst to endure. They brought him off balance. They pleaded for his help, as if having given birth to a eudaimon suddenly gave him some sort of extraordinary power. It was all kinds of people, from desperate mothers looking for lost children, to possessed individuals looking for salvation or demons demanding that they too be allowed into this world. Oh, the offers Severus got. These past six months, there had been a eudaimon guarding the Snapes almost every single day. Alistair could ward off most people. The ones that came looking for missing persons, he either redirected to grown eudaimons or he gave them some kind of direction to keep digging into. He could scare off the deluded and the former Death Eaters. The demons were trickier. His confidence faltered some times, and it weakened him. His tiny shape made him require much rest. And he could not rest properly if he had to mentally watch the house as well. His eudaimon father had risen to the challenge immediately, either coming himself or sending some of his peers as bodyguards. All of the unwanted attention wore Severus out. He wanted peace and quiet together with his young son. And he feared for their safety, seeing how adult eudaimons sometimes came to assist him. It could not last. Now that Minerva McGonagall was sitting in his living room, he therefore naturally bore great scepticism, afraid she had come to ask a favour.

“I have a matter which I would like to discuss with you.” She eyed him after taking a slight pause. “As it happens, I am short on staff members. The Ministry is fighting for control, even at Hogwarts. And they issued guidelines to all headmasters last year, concerning the employment process of professors. At the beginning of the term, they showed up and dismissed every teacher whom were found to be 'unworthy'.”

“Yes, I read of it in the paper. The Ministry's paranoia is – understandable – yet it cannot be denied that the entire situation is turning into hysteria. To my knowledge the ministry's scrutinizing every employee's background, afraid they might overlook a band of Death Eaters regrouping.”

“You are very well informed, Severus. Half of my staff are under investigation because their supposed shady background, having supported or sympathized with Voldemort during the war. Some have left in protest of the Ministry interfering, and some have simply disappeared. I would like to offer you a position at Hogwarts, Severus Snape. If you'd be willing.”

“Alistair must come with me.”

“Of course. I was hoping you would fill in at Potions as well as Defence Against the Dark Arts. Professor Slughorn was quite overworked last year. Cedric Copperhorn took on the post as Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher, and I managed to sway him to stay with great difficulty. But he does not want a full position.”

“I see. You need a substitute professor” Severus replied.

“I need a professor who will maintain discipline in the classroom and who can keep a certain level of quality his work. And you, Severus, have all that I require from a good professor.”

“Thank you for your vote of confidence, headmistress.”

“All I ever hear from these newly appointed professors, are whining and complaining about how terrible it was during the war. They hardly focus on the students and their need. Now, Dumbledore set a standard for education at Hogwarts. I intend to uphold that standard. But as it turns out, I am in need of a bit of help.”

“I will do my best. However, it must be tolerated that I bring Alistair with me to class, until I can find a suitable arrangement.”

“Of course” Minerva replied without hesitation.

And so there it was. Severus Snape was once again going back to Hogwarts. This time, he would not be going alone. When Minerva had left, he sat down with Alistair, and the boy climbed into his lap. Severus combd his fingers through the soft black hair of his son and asked: “Am I doing the right thing, Alistair? Hogwarts? For you and me? We cannot stay here forever.”

It's going to be great!

“All right then” Severus replied, gazing into the depths of those big, brown orbs which were so much a reflection of his own.
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Recompense