Harry Potter and the secret Past

To trust or not to trust

// Authors note: I can't thank any of you enough for your kind comments and feedback! For now I'm not going to aim for a particular chapter length so lengths will vary. Hope everyone can continue to enjoy my story 😊 //

Severus Snape sat motionless in front of the soft heat of the flickering fire. Since the loss of dear sweet Lily, Severus had existed but not lived. He floated. His whole life he'd floated from one disaster to the next, desperately clinging on to hope, finding something to live for, a reason to smile. To laugh. He'd continued to care, in spite of himself, for his pathetic excuse of a family. He'd always hurt. Hurt because of his family, his bullies, his life. But despite the pain caused by his school bullies, he carried on and he gave as good as he got, never once backing down from a fight. He still had his pride. His reason for being. All until the loss of Lily.
Severus had lost himself. Never had he managed to overcome his grief nor his guilt. For it was his fault, he knew. He had unknowingly betrayed his best friend and had lost himself in the process. He had nothing left to live for yet he was too cowardly to end it. Too cowardly to die. And so he floated. He floated through each and everyday, buried in his potion work, snarling his way through his every interaction, in a state of constant numbness. He did his best to fulfil his duties, his work for Dumbledore, his teaching schedules and his potion research. Lived his life under a mask that portrayed outward pride. For Professor Snape was a very proud man.
Funny how Severus couldn't remember the last time he felt pride, or happiness or compassion or even felt nervous. He just floated.
So why now, as he sat alone in front of the fire did Severus Snape feel his gut clenching with butterflies and his heart feel so heavy with rueful sympathy? After all these years how had that tiny green eyed brat, who had the audacity to sleep so carefree in Severus' own bed just a through feet away, manage to reduce Severus to this state. For the first time in 10 years Severus felt like Severus. With human emotions once more. Blast the Potter spawn! Blast Poppy and her brilliant ideas!

He'd spent the entire night going over Madam Pomfrey's words. And against his better judgment, he agreed with her. It was the most effective method to have Potter removed from his relatives without interference from the headmaster and without the risk of being placed into another dangerous household. This didn't mean Severus had to like it, but he excepted it. The sooner this was other with, the sooner he could find an appropriate family to transfer the guardianship to and the sooner the brat would be out of his hair. A win, win.
He chose to ignore the nerves twisting his gut at the thought of Harry's reaction to his offer. Why should he care if the boy wanted to be his ward or not. It wouldn't hurt him if the brat refused. He wouldn't care, obviously, he kept reminding himself, scoffing at his own weaknesses.

After hours of pacing, he had collapsed into his chair and allowed himself to doze for sometime before forcing his aching limbs to Minerva's office. Professor McGonagall had made it abundantly clear yesterday that he would explain the Potter situation before the day started. Severus wasn't stupid enough to risk her wrath so dutifully arrived at her quarters at 6:30 to find the lioness ready and waiting.
If the situation wasn't so dire Severus would have found the women's outrage amusing. It was times like this when the Gryffindor's Scottish heritage came through full force. Severus could barely understand the spat curses but he certainly didn't envy the headmaster. McGonagall sounded fit for murder.
Severus didn't blame her. It would seem McGonagall had had her suspicions of the Dursley's from the start. And to have the head of Slytherin inform her of her own students abuses must be a bitter pill to swallow.
Finally, when the fearsome witch broke into anguished tears, a disconcerted Severus excused himself after giving an awkward yet hopefully reassuring pat to her shoulder and explaining he needed to check on Harry. Minerva waved him away tearily.
In truth, he'd known the dreamless sleep he had dosed the boy with would keep him asleep for at least another hour, but he had felt the urgent need to leave. Professor McGonagall seldom broke down and Severus felt he was intruding on a private moment. He had always been lousy at comfort anyway.