Whelp II The Wrath of Snape

His life was just falling into place, and Albus knew it, with a new career teaching dunderheaded brats, which he could likely have done without, but more importantly, he was just getting to know his son, and that he could never do without. Not anymore. His voice was thick with emotion as he accused, 'I thought we had an understanding.'

The words were no sooner out of his mouth than Severus had the rare pleasure of seeing Albus shocked. The older wizard's mouth actually dropped open. 'Severus, I . . .' He also seemed at a loss for words. A double whammy, to be sure. Did he think Severus would not figure out why these two were here? He was insulted, if that were the case.

But Albus was shaking his head, seemingly having recovered his lost composure. His expression had turned rather wry, in fact. 'Ms. Bones and Mr. Shacklebolt are not here for you, Severus. Not directly. I am sorry if I gave you that impression.'

The moment's relief Severus felt, all the way from head to toes, with the single thought that he was not being locked away from his son reverberating through his heart and mind, over and over, lighting up something akin to joy in his very being . . . that relief vanished utterly in the next second when Dumbledore continued, 'No, no, my dear boy. They came to tell me that Sirius Black has escaped from Azkaban.'

Now it was Severus' turn to be at a loss. Why would Dumbledore be telling him this? It was not as if he could not protect himself from the murderous, back-stabbing Black anymore. He was a far cry from the stumbling, awkward seventeen-year-old the bastard had tormented while at Hogwarts, and Black no longer had an audience to play for, either, what with Potter dead. . . .

Oh, God. No.

It hit him, all at once, and in that instant all of his bones melted. He could not have held himself upright even under the Imperious. He slid down bonelessly in his chair, and noted in some distant portion of his mind that Dumbledore had come around from behind his desk and to his side, almost as quickly as if he had Apparated there.

'Severus.' The word echoed as if from across a vast space. 'Severus, it's all right. Harry will be protected.'

It would not be all right. Black had all but murdered the Potters, although he used the Dark Lord's wand to do it.

Severus' bones appeared as if by magic, and he sat forward in his chair, fists clenched as tightly as his jaw. He snarled, 'How can you say that!? That lunatic blew up twelve Muggles, just to get at Pettigrew! He'll stop at nothing to kill my son, just like he tried to six years ago!'

And then Severus gasped, having let that particular kneazle out of the cauldron. He pressed a trembling hand to his face. This was not one of his better days.

'Severus, it's all right,' came Dumbledore's calm tones again. The understanding in his voice was nearly Severus' undoing. But he had to keep it together, had to keep up appearances. 'Both Ms. Bones and Auror Shacklebolt already know of your adoption of Harry.' Underlying that statement was the hint that they did not know that Harry was, in truth, his biological son. Perhaps Albus did not want them to know, for some reason. Perhaps he was letting Severus decide on his own whether to tell them. Yes, Severus thought, Albus might be that subtle. His employer -- still? he wondered -- went on, 'Amelia, in fact, was my contact at the Ministry who aided us in getting the paperwork through so quickly.'

Gulping down a breath like it was razor wire, Severus could do nothing but nod, his face still covered by his hands. Sirius Black had escaped from the most secure prison in the wizarding world. How was that even possible? And how long would it take for him to come after Harry and finish the job he'd started when Harry was just a babe in Lily's arms?

He had to go to the Burrow. He had to see if Harry was all right. What if Black had discovered where Harry was? Oh, god!

He was already out of his chair and halfway to the fireplace and the floo network when Dumbledore brought him up short. 'Severus. Becalm yourself. Black can not have found him already. We must discuss what precautions you and Harry must take now.'

Severus stared at the Headmaster incredulously. How could he be expected to carry on a conversation with his son in mortal danger?

'Sit, Severus,' Albus said more forcefully, and Severus felt compelled to obey the tone of voice that the Headmaster used with him so infrequently. He collapsed into the chair he had recently vacated. 'Running off half- cocked will do neither of you any good,' Dumbledore continued, and pushed a tin of sweets at him, whilst giving him an earnest smile. 'Lemon sherbet?'

It was all Severus could do not to scream.

When Severus finally reached the Weasleys, it was almost three hours later than he had originally promised his son he would be there. Within seconds of coming through the floo, he was kneeling in front of the hearth. Harry was in his arms, sobbing his relief, and Severus, for just a moment, nearly joined him with tears of his own.

'I'm sorry, Harry,' he whispered over and over into the boy's fine, dark hair as he patted circles on the boy's back, attempting to soothe the tight muscles of his back and shoulders. 'I'm so sorry I was late. I'm so sorry, Harry, please believe me. . . .'

From the look on Molly Weasley's face, and her husband's, as they sat next to each other on the sofa with their hands clasped together for support, the last three hours had been rough on them, too. While cupping Harry's head against his chest, he mouthed words of apology to the two of them, earning a sharp nod from Arthur and a tear-filled sniff from Molly. He would apologize better later. He could not afford to antagonize her at all, as without their cooperation, Harry would not be able to come back here again. Not until Black was captured and Kissed by the Dementors they had waiting for his return to Azkaban.

Rather than rely on their unstinting cooperation, though, Severus had been willing to take Harry and run, just to not be anywhere that Black could get a hold of him. They would go far from Hogwarts, or the Burrow, or even the whole of Britain. They would go somewhere far, far away and be safe.

Merlin knew, though -- as did, apparently, Albus Dumbledore -- that no where would be truly safe from the likes of Sirius Black. No one in the Ministry knew how he had broken out of Azkaban, but that he had done so meant he had the tenacity and drive to find Harry anywhere in the world and finish the Dark Lord's job. Thus, Severus realized, (with Albus' help, of course, after much debate) that he would be better off just making his home and the other places he frequented as impenetrable as possible against that filthy murderer's incursion.

Harry's sobs had turned to hitched breaths and hiccups, but Severus did not relinquish his grip on his son, still