Chapter Text
Petunia Harriet “Evans” Dursley was a model of a perfectly normal woman. She went to Primary School, as all children do, without any issues. When her freak of a sister was called off to that shoddy school, leaving her behind, she had at first tried to be supportive. Writing letters to the ungrateful girl, sending them off by owl, asking about her strange classes, while Petunia excelled in Secondary School. She tolerated the books and potions and creatures she brought home, including that horrid boy, Severus, who had been the first to put the idea of Witchcraft in her head. It was only after Lily had met him that she had started to abandon her.
Petunia went off to college, like a normal girl, and Lily finished up her last few years of freak school. Petunia met Vernon and got married, Lily met that no-good dog, Potter, and married him, then proceeded to go off and fight in some sort of war. By then, Petunia had hardly spoken to her sister more than a few sentences. Petunia had her son, her darling Dudley, and Lily had twins a few months later, of course, because Lily had to do everything better than her. Petunia had gotten good grades? Oh, Lily must have the best of the class. Petunia married a successful young man? Oh, Lily must marry a Lord. Petunia had a son? Oh, Lily must have two.
Petunia was, however, perfectly happy with her perfectly normal life. She had a hardworking husband and a beautiful son, what more could she wish for?
And then Lily, of course, had to interrupt her normal days.
Petunia had just been going to get the paper. It was a cool, early November morning, and she and Vernon had been planning to spend their Saturday inside, relaxing together and playing with Dudley. She opened her door, and there he was.
A beautiful little boy, only a couple months younger than Dudley with green, green eyes. Green eyes Petunia would recognize anywhere.
She screamed, and Vernon came running.
They quickly brought the boy inside, praying the neighbors hadn’t seen a child abandoned on their steps. God, what would the neighbors think!? Vernon was seething, talking about calling the police and contacting an orphanage to leave the boy when Petunia finally spotted the note.
“-those freaks just left their freakish son on our doorstep without a word! For what reason!” Vernon ranted. “Pet, I just can't believe this! We need to call-”
“Vernon, there’s a letter,” Petunia hissed between gritted teeth, spotting the envelope where it was tucked between the soft silver blanket and the boy. She reached out and snatched up the pale blue envelope, careful not to touch the boy’s skin, lest he was diseased. She opened it carefully, scowling at Lily’s familiar handwriting.
Petunia,
I know we haven’t spoken much recently, or been truly close in the past few years, but I am begging you to hear me out.
This is my son, Harrison Sirius Potter. On the night of October 31st, 1981, we were betrayed by Peter Pettigrew, one of our friends. We were hidden in a secret place that only he could share the location of. He gave our location away to the Death Eaters and we were attacked by Voldemort. James and I weren't home at the time, we were lucky to be in a meeting with our Leader at the time. My dear mother-in-law, the Dowager Lady Dorea Potter, was murdered by Voldemort when she tried to defend my children.
A miracle happened, however. Voldemort turned to kill my children and struck at my eldest, Fleamont, with the Killing Curse. Somehow, Monty’s magic protected him against the curse and he survived, the curse recoiling against Voldemort and vanquishing the Dark Lord. People have taken to calling him the Boy-Who-Lived.
Unfortunately, due to the dark magic used, Harry’s magic died inside him, making him a squib. We cannot be seen raising a squib as the Boy-Who-Lived’s brother. Not only will it make him a target of Dark Wizards, since he’s unable to defend himself, but Monty needs more attention now. The Dark Lord will come back, the Headmaster is sure of it, and it is my job as Monty’s mother to ensure he’ll be ready to defend himself.
Please, I’m begging you. Harry is unfortunately no more than a regular human now, and without me and James there to take care of him, I hope you and Vernon can step up in our place. Love him for me, please. I know we aren't close anymore, but Harry is an innocent child, and many will wish to harm him. Love him as if he is your own.
Thank you,
Lady Lillian Elizabeth Potter née Evans.
Petunia was nearly shaking in rage by the time she was finished. “That c*nt-” The co*keworth accent came out strong with her anger. Vernon stared at her, startled by her foul language.
“Petunia!”
“Sorry! Sorry!” She inhaled deeply. “Just read it, please,” She asked, handing the note over. Vernon eyed her warily but took it. As he began to read, Petunia turned to the boy. Harrison was a decent enough name—Harrison, like her father. Harrison, perhaps like her? Harrison Potter, however, was horrific. She wouldn’t make Vernon give him his name, but possibly… maybe she could give him her name. Harrison Evans wasn't bad. Not bad at all.
She reached forward, scooping up the boy with careful arms. What a quiet little thing. Abandoned, out in the cold by his own worthless parents. “Poor little thing-” She began softly, brushing dark hair out of his face and noting a fresh scar on his forehead. “Left behind by my dear sister,” She sneered a little, unaware that she had a slight resemblance to a certain Potions Master at that moment. “I know how that is, though,” She whispered. “You and I, we understand each other,” She murmured, looking into bright green eyes. She heard Vernon crumble up the letter.
“That bitch!” He yelled.
Petunia turned to him with raised eyebrows, holding the boy close to her chest. “Do you see where I was coming from?” She asked. “Freaks, all of them, and when they are blessed with a normal child, they dump him! How dare they!” Her voice got shrill with every word.
Vernon eyed the boy warily but was nodding along with her. “He’s a few months younger than Dudley, isn’t that right? He’s so small compared to him, we’ll have to get some meat on his bones,” He mused, slowly walking closer. The boy was cute enough, he could admit, and he could see some of Petunia in him, in his sharp jaw and cheekbones.
Petunia nodded, stroking the toddler’s back. “Harrison Sirius Evans? No, that middle name will have to go. Harrison…”
“How about Christopher, for your uncle,” Vernon suggested. Petunia smiled at him.
“Harrison Christopher Evans. Harrison, like my father. At least Lily can appreciate some family,” She mused, looking intently at the boy. She noted that his green eyes were ringed with silver, a shocking combo. There were plenty of what he assumed were Potter’s looks, but she could see the Evans in him. “Well, that's not our problem, is it? She left him. We’ll raise him good and proper, and if she ever comes back for him, well… he’ll hate her.” And with that statement, Petunia’s smile widened.
She would be a better mother to Lily’s son than her oh-so-dear sister could ever hope to be.
- ••••
Sirius Cygnus Black was having a horrible day. Actually, he was having a horrible year.
It had first been great. Regulus had broken free from their parent’s clutches, tearing away from the Dark Lord and taking Bellatrix with him. Sirius hadn't fully understood what it meant to be Lord Black until Bellatrix had been asleep in front of him, her diagnostic sheet in his hands.
Bella had always had a strong dose of the famous Black madness, but she had never been insane. When she had joined the Dark Lord and started torturing people, Sirius couldn't believe it. Sure, a Black family dinner was never complete without a few hexes and curses being thrown, and Bella could be cruel, but she had never shown such fondness for murder.
Insanity potions. Rodolphus Lestrange was a dead man walking. Bellatrix was one of his. Bellatrix was part of the Ancient and Most Noble House of Black, and a Lestrange thought he could ruin her with no consequences? A foolish thought. Absurd, even. He had to have gone mad.
Sirius had contacted Narcissa and Andromeda, and after months of plotting, they murdered Rodolphus Dominus Lestrange at 2:13 AM on November 1st.
It was easy, really. Have Bella write a letter apologizing, claiming Regulus forced her, and since Regulus was the rightful Heir to the House of Black, she had foolishly trusted him, and would Rodolphus please come meet up with her?
A particularly vicious cutting curse was all it took after Sirius, Andy, and Narcissa ambushed him. They had gifted Bellatrix her husband’s head, much to her pleasure. She said it was the best present anyone had ever gotten her, topping even the diamond crown Abraxas had given her one year.
Abraxas had been with Bellatrix and Regulus when Sirius, Andromeda, and Narcissa had slunk in, blood staining their faces. He had looked at the fierce look on Sirius’s face as he had bestowed a delighted Bellatrix with Rodolphus’s decapitated head. He had heard him swear to protect his family, and Abraxas had smiled.
“Do you feel it, grandson?” He had asked solemnly, silver eyes meeting silver eyes. “Do you hear Family Black speaking to you?”
And Family Black sang for Sirius. Abraxas had not hesitated to name him Lord Black and welcome Andromeda back into the fold.
It was only after Sirius had washed Rodolphus’s blood off his hands that the letter from James had arrived.
Voldemort was gone. Monty had vanquished him and was hailed a hero.
And Harrison was dead.
For a moment, Sirius panicked. His magic lashed out, hungry for vengeance, to release his rage. His godson, his heir, dead. Impossible. Not his Harry, his pup, his little star. His Hydrus, the water snake.
It wasn't until Regulus had grabbed his shoulders, shaking him and yelling, that he realized he was close to tearing apart Malfoy Manor.
“Harry,” He gasped, eyes wild. “My pup, my Harry. They say he’s dead!”
He heard someone, maybe Narcissa, gasp behind him, but Lucius shouldered Regulus out of the way, gripping him by the arms. “Feel your bond, Sirius. What does it tell you?” The Malfoy Lord asked, blue eyes clear and calm like water, where the Blacks’ panic spread like wildfire.
Sirius reached out with his magic, feeling for where his magic had claimed Harry as its own. His bond with his pup hummed, already as familiar as his own heartbeat. His pup was alive.
“He’s alive,” He gasped, relief crashing over him like a wave. Bellatrix flung herself at him, their first hug in years, knocking both him and Lucius to the ground.
“Why would- how dare they-” Bellatrix snarled from where she grasped him. “I’ll kill them!” She finally settled on, mismatched eyes wild.
Lucius was silent as he reached for his wife. “If they told you he was dead…” The blonde said quietly. “That means they lied. But if he’s not dead, where is he?”
Sirius let the question process for a moment. One of the sitting room couches burst into flames.
Andy put out the fire with a flick of her wand as Sirius stood up, dragging Bellatrix with him, and began pacing.
“f*ck!” He finally shouted. He whirled around, practically sprinting down the hall and toward the door.
“Sirius!” Regulus shouted. “Wait!”
“Stupefy!” Bellatrix barked, having no reservations about stunning her cousin. Cissa reached Sirius first, undoing her sister’s spell with a swish of her wand.
“Don’t be an idiot, you f*cking imbecile,” She hissed. “We have to be smart about this. You can’t storm in and demand your godson. We need backup.” She turned to Regulus. “Take him to Grimmauld Place. Lucius and I will see what we can find through the ministry and our… connections.”
Lucius finally turned and looked at his Dark Mark. He swore.
Bellatrix and Regulus looked at their marks. Everyone stared silently at the faded tattoos. Sirius silently handed Andromeda his letter, focusing on the humming of his Godfather bond to keep him sane. It was calm and gentle, lapping at the edges of his mind. It meant Harry was calm and safe, that nothing was wrong. At least not yet. His family crowded around Andy to read the letter over her shoulder.
“Of course, it was a f*cking Potter,” Lucius grumbled, rolling his eyes.
Sirius was going to gut Lucius and feed his innards to the thestrals. Cissa would excuse it, he was sure.
- ••••
Severus Snape was having a strange year.
It all started with that damned prophecy. Or, really, it was when his mother sat him down and told him his whole life was a life, but of things that had happened the past year, it all started with that f*cking prophecy.
A Prince bows to no one, but Princes also know how to survive, and more than Severus was a Prince or a Snape, he was a Slytherin, and he was very good at surviving.
When it came down to taking the mark or making an enemy of his entire House, Severus did what he must to survive. The tattoo was burned into his skin, and he was a marked Death Eater.
At first, working with the Dark Lord wasn’t too bad. While Severus didn’t support all of his ideology, there was a lot he agreed with. Until he went madder and madder, getting more vicious with every passing day. Crucioing his followers for voicing an opinion where he had once praised them, murdering Muggle-borns when he had once encouraged their education. Using creatures as weapons instead of a people in need of help.
That was it for Severus, and he soon came to despise being a Death Eater, especially a member of the “inner circle.” The only good thing to come out of it was meeting a certain cousin duo.
The two Blacks were vicious and cutthroat. Regulus had been groomed for this since birth by foolish Orion, who had forgotten how great the Blacks were. And Bellatrix was dragged into it by her husband. Away from their family, the cousins weren’t quite kind, but they were smart and witty, even friendly toward Severus. And then Bellatrix would go off with her husband and return madder than before, while Regulus returned bruised and quiet from time spent with his parents.
Severus was immensely suspicious.
It wasn't until he saw Rodolphus give Bellatrix a familiar-looking potion in a goblet, claiming it was wine, that he knew what was up. Sweet-tasting and smooth down your throat, the Essence of Insanity was a quiet killer. A small dose would give someone a few quirks. Give someone enough it would drive them to their own death. With Bellatrix’s Black Madness, a small dose took her from somewhat crazy to insane.
Regulus would never save himself, and Bellatrix was too reliant on her husband due to the potions, but they would save each other.
Severus had not hesitated to tell Regulus what Rodolphus was doing to his cousin. It took two weeks, but suddenly, the Blacks were gone. Voldemort hardly noticed, too focused on that goddamn prophecy Severus had accidentally mentioned in front of Rowle, and through that, was forced to bring to the Dark Lord. One silent, yet panicked, message was sent to Lucius across a dark room, and Severus was quickly assured, that the Blacks were back together, and safe.
That was enough for Severus until Halloween happened and the Dark Lord was vanquished.
Within the month, Severus was arrested. He was set up to be kissed. The mark didn't lie, after all.
He was dragged out in chains for his trial, his Dark Mark on display for everyone to see. It could hardly be called a trial.
Regulus and Bellatrix would be free. Bellatrix on forced insanity pleas, and Regulus for giving the Order of the Phoenix valuable inside information, allowing them to prepare for the Halloween attacks. They hadn't been able to save the Longbottoms, but Lily was alive. So was James, unfortunately, but Severus couldn't be too bothered about that, seeing as he was about to be fated to a Dementor's Kiss.
“…Does anyone have any evidence to present to the jury here today?” Bartemius Crouch asked, practically frothing at the mouth, ready to sentence yet another Death Eater to either Azkaban or a Kiss.
Someone cleared their throat. Severus didn't bother to look up from where he was busy staring at the chains crossing his wrists and Occluding. His mother was probably pissed.
“Lord Black?”
What.
Severus looked up, twisting slightly in his chair and making eye contact with Sirius goddamn Black.
What the f*ck?
“Severus Snape was instrumental in providing information to the Light.”
What the actual f*cking f*ck.
“It was only through his assistance that Bellatrix and Regulus, two valuable members of the Ancient and Most Noble House of Black were able to escape the D- He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named’s clutches. For his efforts, I believe he should be granted a full pardon. Family Black is willing to sponsor his transition back into society.”
The small jury was stunned into silence by the young new Lord. Even Dumbledore looked shocked. Severus’s brain quit functioning.
“I- any objections?” Crouch asked once he recovered his wits.
The room stayed in its shocked quiet.
“And you, Lord Black, will ensure Mr. Snape is, in fact, not a true Death Eater and a good, Light member of society?” Crouch asked, faltering under Sirius’s intense stare, the famous silver gaze the Blacks were known for.
“It shall be done,” Black responded, magic reverberating in his words.
“Well then, with no detractors-” Crouch paused for a moment. “Mister Severus Snape, you have been granted a full pardon and we give you our thanks for your work against the Dark.”
Sirius Black just got him a pardon.
Severus swore under his breath in High Valyrian, stunned as the chains vanished with a flick of Crouch’s wand. The Aurors stepped forward, escorting him to his…sponsor.
“Mutt,” He greeted, eyes narrowing as the Aurors stepped away.
“Snape,” Black responded, inclining his head respectfully. “Come along, now. Bella and Reggie are waiting for you at Grimmauld Place,” He said. Severus could only let himself be dragged along, too busy wondering what the f*ck was going on to occlude and process everything properly. This was a dream. Perhaps a nightmare, he was sure of it.
At Grimmauld Place, he was shoved into a chair and handed a potion. “Drink,” Narcissa’s familiar voice commanded. He drank without hesitation, too tired to question. The taste of a Calming Draught was sweet and thick on his tongue.
Setting down the empty vial, he turned to look around the table. Bellatrix, Regulus, Lucius, Narcissa, and Lord f*cking Sirius Black all stared back at him. “I’m too tired to be polite,” He said bluntly. “Can someone tell me what the actual f*ck is going on?” He asked.
Bellatrix half-laughed-half-cackled, a familiar sound. Black huffed at her, somehow silencing her with only a look, and straightened in his seat. “Family Black owed you a debt. You have saved two of my family members, and in return, I have gotten you your freedom. We are now equal,” He pronounced, grey eyes intense.
Magic hummed in the air, as if in agreement with his words. Severus was already shaking his head.
“No, it is not equal. You have saved me from a Dementor’s kiss, you have saved my life,” He admitted. He may be a Slytherin, but he was a Prince, and Princes had honor above all.
Black stared at him. Severus stared back. Black grinned, feral at the edges.
“How absolutely Hufflepuff of you,” The mutt said, cackling. Severus suddenly was very aware of the family resemblance. Even Narcissa was smirking. Severus could not have stopped himself from rolling his eyes even if he had wanted to.
“Drop dead.” Bellatrix leaned forward slightly, a threat in her eyes. He sighed, backtracking lest he end up on the wrong end of a crucio. “No, I just refuse to remain in your debt any longer than I have to be,” He responded, eyes narrowing. Lucius watched him carefully, silent for a few long seconds before leaning back with a nod.
Black was scowling at him now. “Is my word not enough? Do you dare to imply that the House of Black would not-”
Regulus grabbed his brother’s arm. “Quiet, brother,” He said simply, and the mutt, for once, actually shut his mouth. Regulus leaned over, whispering in Black’s ear. Black turned and frowned at him, and the two whispered fiercely to each other. Narcissa rolled her eyes and slammed her hands down onto the table.
“Enough. Severus, we have a proposition for you,” She announced, arching an eyebrow and daring anyone to argue with her. The rest of the Blacks stayed silent. “If you wish to pay a debt, you may. We could use your skills in a certain… project… of ours,” She told him. “We would require a vow that you will not share what we tell you, however.”
Severus did not hesitate. Lucius silently handed him back his wand, and raising it in the air, he intoned, “I, Severus Tobias Snape, do so swear that I will never speak, mention, or allude to the conversations that happen today without Lord Black’s permission. So mote it be.”
Everyone stared at him. Regulus smirked. “Sirius, you were right, that was a very Hufflepuff oath.”
Severus scowled at sat back. “So? Tell me what is going on?” He said, hands splaying across the table.
Narcissa leaned forward. “The Black heir is missing. You have…” She looked him up and down. “..skills that could be useful in helping us find him.”
Severus stared. “Who’s the Black heir if not Draco?” He asked, startled. And then his brain began functioning. The realization dawned on him slowly as Black straightened up.
“My godson. Harrison.”
Severus sat in shock. “Lily’s son is missing!?” He demanded, stunned. “The Boy-Who-Lived’s brother is missing and the entire world isn't up in arms!?” He asked, halfway to a shout as he wondered how this could’ve happened.
Lucius reached across the table, grasping him by the wrist. “They reported the boy dead,” He said bluntly. “Sirius’s godfather bond proves that wrong. They claimed that Voldemort’s attack stole the boy’s magic and made him a squib. That Harry’s body couldn't handle the shock of it and it killed him.”
Severus needed another calming draught. Or a bottle of firewhiskey. Lily? His once-sister, Lillian? With her fiery red hair and gentle green eyes, the only one he had ever told even some of the truth to? She would not have, could not have approved this heinous idea. Taking a magical child away from their world and claiming he was dead? Preposterous. Magical children were getting rarer every year. Houses were dying out, and more and more people were unable to reproduce. Many would kill for the chance to have a child like Harrison. At the looks on the Blacks’ faces, they were one of them.
The mutt leaned forward, a manic look on his face. “Harry is still the Black Heir. The family magic would not accept a squib as the future Lord Black, but they won't listen to me. They told me he was dead,” He said, words edged with desperation. Hints of the Black madness shone in his eyes, but Severus was sure that the loss of a child could drive anyone to madness. “If you could find him… I would give you anything.”
Severus eyed him. “Dumbledore will be keeping me on a tight leash now that I’m free. He’ll be keeping an eye on you all for freeing me,” He said slowly.
Sirius nodded shortly. “Yes.” His eyes pleaded with him to agree anyway.
Severus sighed. “I’ll help. How do we start?”
And Sirius Black’s eyes shone like the stars Blacks were named for.
