Daddy Dearest

Chapter 1 - The Letter

Summer 1991

"Harry James Snape, get down here this instant!" Severus Snape called irritably, listening for signs that his mischievous stepson was coming. The manor was, for once, silent. Severus sighed. It was time to resort to desperate measures. "Lenora, come here for a minute. Your brother obviously doesn't want this."

There was suddenly the sound of four children racing toward him. The first to arrive was his seven-year-old daughter, Lenora. Then three boys practically tumbled over each other into the foyer of the grand mansion. One had longish light, sandy brown hair. The next had nearly shoulder-length black hair. The third with short, unruly black hair and the greenest eyes Severus had ever seen. The black-haired girl's eye's were the same... their mother's eyes.

"Well, it's nice to see you all so eager to answer. James Black and Romulus Lupin are here, too, I see. You're parents will want you at home. Off you go."

The two ten-year-olds sulked over to the fireplace and obediently took the Floo Network home. "This year Hogwarts will be seeing the beginning of the second generation of Marauders," Severus sighed. "Lenora, I'm afraid I have to give it to Harry. Would you like to ask Remmy to give you some ice cream?"

Lenora squealed in pleasure and ran off to find the House-Elf, and Severus turned to Harry. "It's here."

The ten-year-old boy's face lit up with joy as his stepfather handed him a thick parchment envelope addressed in green ink.

Mr. H. Potter

North Tower

Snape Manor

Wales

Harry flipped over the envelope excitedly, examining the purple wax seal embedded with the Hogwarts crest before opening the envelope and reading his letter out loud.

"Dear Mr. Potter,

"We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment.

"We understand that you desire to be enrolled as 'Harry James Snape' and will honor that wish. Term begins on September 1. We await your owl by no later than July 31.

"Yours sincerely, Minerva McGonagall, Deputy Headmistress."

He pulled out the second sheet of paper and continued reading.

"Uniform. First-year students will require: three sets of plain work robes (black), one plain pointed hat (black) for day wear, one pair protective gloves (dragon hide or similar), one winter cloak (black, silver fastenings). Please note that all pupils' clothes should carry name tags. Course books-"

Severus smiled his thin-lipped smile at the boy. "I know. I've already owled, and I picked up your things. We'll go to Diagon Alley on your birthday and pick up your uniform, wand, and pet, before we visit your mother. No broom, though. I'll get you a new one when you get on the team, like I promised."

Harry wrinkled up his nose. "Not A broom, the BEST. You promised."

"Of course. Now go. Your friends will be back soon, I expect."

July 31

Harry woke up early on his birthday, bouncing excitedly out of bed and getting dressed. His stepfather was taking him and Lenora to Diagon Alley to get his Hogwarts things. Romulus and James weren't going to Hogwarts until the next year, so it would just be the three of them. He was so excited that he could barely eat breakfast. Finally they had taken the Floo Network to the Leaky Caldron. They walked straight through until a giant of a man stood up and smiled warmly at his stepfather.

"Severus, sit down, have a drink!"

"Not today, Hagrid, I have the children with me."

Hagrid looked down at the two black-haired, green-eyed children. "Ah, yes, 'Arry an' lil'Enora." He eyed the contents of his gigantic tankard. "I probably shouldn't 'ave another, anyway, got some 'Ogwarts business at Gringotts."

Severus completely ignored the fact that the entire pub had fallen silent. "We're going to Gringotts ourselves."

"Right, then, I'll come along."

They left the Leaky Caldron then, going out the back of the pub, leaving everyone still gaping at them. As they went out the back door, Harry noticed a man wearing a purple turban coming towards them.

"Dad, who's that?"

Severus glanced over at the man. "That's Professor Quirrell. He teaches Defense Against the Dark Arts."

"Ha-Hagrid, S-S-Severus, it's s-so n-nice to s-see you. And I-I s-see you h-have your ch-charming ch-children w-with you, S-Severus. L-Lenora and li-little H-Harry."

"'Ello, Professor," Hagrid said cheerfully. "Nice t'see ya!"

"Yes, lovely, Quirrell. I hope that this year you will actually be able to teach. Why Professor Dumbledore keeps a Professor who's afraid of their own subject, but if you impede Harry's schooling with your fears, than you'll wish that vampire had come for you. Come along, children. We don't have much time."

Hagrid shook his great head at Snape as he went over to tap the appropriate brick to open the arch into Diagon Alley. "I best be off, too. Got meself a job t'do for Dumbledore."

He followed the Snape family into Diagon Alley and to Gringotts. They were bowed in by a goblin. The Snapes went to one of the goblin-clerks, and Hagrid went to another.

"A withdrawal from Severus Snape's vault, and one from Harry Potter's."

Harry looked at his stepfather in shock. "But-"

Severus gave his stepson a stern look. "It's all in accordance with your father's will, Harry. There was a generous amount per year set that went to your mother until her death, and the rest is yours. However, you may not use it except for Hogwarts and a set allowance that is to start today until you come of age. I didn't want to have to tell you that you couldn't buy a broom or Quidditch balls or the like regularly any sooner than I had to."

"Oh."

"Do you have the keys?" the goblin asked, ignoring their discussion.

"They're right here," Severus said coolly, handing over two tiny gold keys, each to a Gringotts vault.

"That seems to be in order. Griphook!"

Another goblin came and took them down in the carts to their vaults. Their first stop was at Severus's familiar vault, and then they went down farther to Harry's vault. When the door was opened the two Snape children both exclaimed in shock and their father inhaled sharply. There was more money in Harry's vault than they'd ever seen.

"Now I understand why James directed so much for Lily," Severus said under his breath. "It didn't even dent this." Then he turned to Harry. "Take about fifty galleons. That should pay for everything, and include whatever odd inks and parchments and such that you want. After we've finished I'll arrange for your allowance to be sent to you. It will include what you have left over this month."

"A-all right."

They took the cart back up once Harry had gathered in about fifty galleons, and went to Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions. "I'm going to take Lenora off to some book stores while you get your robes. Apparently we don't have enough dragon books."

Harry grinned. "All right."

So Harry entered Madam Malkin's alone.

"Hogwarts, dear? Got the lot here--another young man being fitted up just now, in fact."

In back a boy with a pale, pointed face, was standing on a stool while a second witch pinned up his long black robes to the proper length. Harry was directed to the next stool, had an identical robe draped over his head, and Madam Malkin began pinning it up.

"Hello," the boy said. "Hogwarts, too?"

"Yes."

"My father's next door buying my books and Mother's up the street looking at wands," the boy drawled, apparently bored. "Then I'm going to drag them off to look at racing brooms. I think I'll bully father into getting me one and I'll smuggle it in somehow."

"There's no point. First years never get on the House teams."

"So? I could get on."

"Not even the best do. No one's gotten on in first year for a century. I looked it up to see if there was some way I could get on."

"What broom do you have? I've got a Comet Two Sixty."

Harry shrugged. "Mine's a Comet Two Eighty, but Dad promised he'd get me the best when I get on the team."

"Oh. Well. What House will you be in?"

Harry shrugged again. "Either Gryffindor or Slytherin, probably. Mum and my father were Gryffindors, but Dad--my stepfather--is Slytherin. I think I'd like Gryffindor, myself."

"A Slytherin married a Gryffindor?"

"Yes."

"Pathetic. I'm going to be in Slytherin, and I won't sink that low."

Harry glared. "Don't insult my parents, ESPECIALLY not Mum. Do it again and it'll be a toss up whether Dad curses you before I get to you or not."

The boy changed the subject rather quickly. "It doesn't really matter. I mean, they were OUR KIND, weren't they?"

"Mum and my father were, and so is Dad."

"The other sort shouldn't be allowed in, don't you think?"

"They have as much right to learn magic as the rest of us, and we'd have lost our magic years ago without them bringing it in fresh," Harry answered furiously.

"Oh, you're one of those Muggle-lovers, are you? Pathetic." Before Harry could reply, however he'd gone on. "Say, isn't that the Potions Master?"

Harry looked out the window. "Yes, and he's also my dad."

"You're done, dear."

Harry hopped down and followed Madam Malkin to the front, paid for his robes, and left.

After that they went to Ollivander's. It was eerily silent and oppressively magical, demanding that they wait quietly to be helped.

"Good afternoon."

The Snapes jumped at the sound of the soft voice of an old man who gave the impression of being silver. "Er--hello."

"I thought I'd be seeing you in here soon. Harry Potter. You have you're mother's eyes. It seems only yesterday she was in here herself, buying her first wand. Ten and a quarter inches long, swishy, made of willow. Nice wand for charm work."

He moved closer to Harry.

"Your father, on the other hand, favored a mahogany wand. Eleven inches. Pliable. A little more power and excellent for transfiguration. Well, I say your father favored it--it's really the wand that chooses the wizard, of course."

Harry and Mr. Ollivander were almost nose to nose. "And that's where..."

Mr. Ollivander touched Harry's scar with a long, white finger.

"I'm sorry to say I sold the wand that did it. Thirteen-and-a-half inches. Yew. Powerful wand, very powerful, and in the wrong hands... well. If I'd known what that wand was going out into the world to do..."

He shook his head, then caught sight of Severus. "Well, Professor Snape! How nice to see you again... Poplar, twelve inches, rather stiff, I believe."

"Exactly."

"Hmm... Let me see, Mr. Potter. Which is your wand hand?"

"My right."

Mr. Ollivander nodded and set a silver tape measure to measuring him, telling him about his wands while pulling some down. Finally, as the tape measure was getting the measurement between his nostrils, Mr. Ollivander told it that it had measured enough. "Try this one, Mr. Potter. Beechwood and dragon heartstring. Nine inches. Nice and flexible. Just take it and give it a wave."

The old, pale man snatched it back almost instantly. "Here, maple and phoenix feather. Seven inches. Quite whippy. Try--"

Harry tried--and the old man snatched it back, as well. "No, no--here, ebony and unicorn hair, eight and a half inches, springy. Go on, go on, try it out."

Harry tried. And tried. The pile of rejected wands kept growing higher until--

"Tricky customer, eh? Not to worry, we'll find the perfect match here somewhere--I wonder, now--yes, why not--unusual combination--holly and phoenix feather, eleven inches, nice and supple."

Harry took the wand and felt a sudden warmth in the wand beneath his fingers--a warmth that was IN his fingers. He raised the wand and brought it down, a shower of red and gold sparks pouring from the end. Lenora gave her little squeal of delight, Severus smiled, and Mr. Ollivander cried, "Oh, bravo! Yes, indeed, oh, very good. Well, well, well... how curious... how very curious..."

He put Harry's wand back into it's box and wrapped in brown paper, still muttering, "Curious... curious..."

"Sorry," said Harry, "but WHAT'S curious?"

Mr. Ollivander fixed Harry with his pale stare.

"I remember every wand I've sold, Mr. Potter. Every single wand. It so happens that the phoenix whose tail feather is in your wand, gave another feather--just one other. It is very curious indeed that you should be destined for that wand wen its brother--why, it's brother gave you that scar."

Harry swallowed.

"Yes, thirteen-and-a-half inches. Yew. Curious indeed how these things happen. The wand chooses the wizard, remember... I think we must expect great things from you, Mr. Potter... After all, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named did great things--terrible, yes, but great."

Harry shivered, unsure whether or not he liked Mr. Ollivander. He paid seven Galleons for his wand, and Mr. Ollivander bowed them from his shop.

"What did that funny old man mean, Daddy?" asked little Lenora when they'd left the shop.

"He knows your brother for who he is, Lenora, and you know not to tell."

"But what about the wand?"

"That's Harry's business, Lenora. He might tell you when you're older. Come now, you're animal's all that's left."

Severus walked them down Diagon Alley and into the first creature shop they came to. Somehow, however, Harry wasn't able to pick any of the magnificent animals in the shop. None of them seemed quite right, somehow. They were all wonderful, he could have gotten along with any of them, but somehow he knew that one of the animals in Diagon Alley was just right and it wasn't there. The three of them went through several shops before they finally entered Eeylops Owl Emporium. Once inside, Harry immediately found his familiar--a dignified female snowy owl with exceptionally intelligent amber eyes.

"That one, Dad," he said decisively. "Her name's Hedwig." He'd seen the name in his History of Magic book, and it was perfect for the owl.