Snarry-a-Thon22: FIC: Prince, Resurrected Title: Prince, Resurrected Author:drwritermom Other pairings/threesome: Arthur & Molly Weasley, Ron Weasley/Hermione Granger Rating: Teen and above Word count: 2580 Content/Warning(s): Angst, mild Weasley bashing Prompt: Harry has nearly finished his auror training, there is just one test he has yet to pass, a single duel combat with the ministry's best dualist. But when Harry gets ready to fight he hesitates when he comes face to face with the one he had believed to have been dead since the war, snarry ending. Summary: Harry has his future figured out, with one last duel remaining before he joins the Elite Auror Detective Squad. A long thought dead ex-pat veteran obliterated his carefully crafted plans. A/N: Many thanks to the mods, who host this yearly celebration of Snarry. And as always, JKR owns the Wizarding World of Harry Potter, I just play with the characters for my amusement.
Harry Potter, the Auror in Training Who Lived, was pacing nervously in front on Kingsley Shacklebolt’s office, eschewing the waiting area in favor of wearing a hole in the carpet.
“The Minister will see you now,” chirped an entirely too perky receptionist who had been trying to flirt with Harry from the moment he arrived for this command appearance with the Minister for Magic. Harry didn’t even have the energy to give her side eye as he hurried from the reception area into Shacklebolt’s office. Harry wasn’t impressed by simpering sycophants, especially the day before his final test as an Auror candidate. And it was this very test that was the topic of this last minute, mandatory meeting.
Harry stood at attention after Kingsley ushered Harry into the office.
“Harry, relax, you are not at the Academy now. Please, take a seat.
“Minister-”
“It’s Kingsley, Cadet Potter-”
“Kingsley, I beg your pardon, but I have to know. Why is the Minister for Magic contacting an Auror Cadet about the Final Cadet Duel? Is there a problem with my performance at the Academy? Shouldn’t any discussion about my final exam be amongst the Aurors who evaluate me?”
“Harry, something occurred today that made it my business to meet with you prior to your duel. Correct me if I’m wrong, but you are interested in joining the Elite Auror Detective Squad, are you not?”
“Kingsley, if you are asking, then you already know that I have applied for that assignment.”
“You do know, Harry, that you are required to live a monastic existence while you are a member of this squad, right?”
“I don’t think there’s a cadet or Auror that doesn’t know that. Is that why you called me? To suss out if I had any romantic entanglements? I thought you knew that the Daily Prophet is less accurate than a stopped clock-”
Harry, please calm down. I don’t follow the conjecture in any of the Wixen rags. Have you noticed the large, dusty book on my desk?”
Harry looked down from Kingsley’s face, to the huge tome taking center stage on the Minister’s desk. “The Book of Fate’s Soulmates”, the cover read. “Why are you calling my attention to that dusty old book?”
“Cadet Potter. Harry. This dusty old book is usually hidden from sight, in a warded vault, behind a still-life painting, in the Muggle Prime Minister’s office. It has not been seen in more than a century, according to Albus’s portrait. It materialized on my desk this morning.”
“I’m sure this is fascinating, but what does this have to do with me and my exam tomorrow?”
“Allow me to finish, Cadet,” Shacklebolt growled, before composing himself. He felt a headache coming on. He snapped back to his most ministerial façade and continued.
“Harry, this book of fated soulmates appeared on my desk this morning, and opened to a page with your name being written in as I read it. It appears that the Fates have chosen to gift you a soulmate.”
“Minister Shacklebolt, I have no desire for any mate, soulmate or otherwise. And the Fates have never been kind to me, so I am going to ignore this whole soulmate, umm, thing and get on with my life. Which will begin tomorrow, after my exam. I have had enough of my life being dictated by others, so if it’s alright with you, I’m going back to my flat and resting up before tomorrow’s duel. Good day, Minister!”
Harry stormed out of the office before Shacklebolt could stop him. He didn’t even get the chance to tell the young Auror candidate the name that had appeared next to his. There was nothing for it. Kingsley was going to have to call in the last person Harry would ever expect to see. Merlin help them all.
Harry Apparated to his flat the moment he had fled from the Ministry. He resumed his pacing after he landed in his living room. Harry was free of all emotional entanglements after Fred Weasley’s funeral. Molly and George Weasley blamed him for Fred Weasley’s death. Molly, Ron and Ginny resented Harry for refusing to date Ginny. Arthur Weasley and Hermione Granger had no choice but to side with the rest of the Weasleys, leaving Harry without his supposed family. The all-consuming Elite Auror Detective Squad (not the most imaginative moniker) was the perfect solution for the vacuum the sudden absence of family and friends had created in his life. He’d be too invested in his career to miss his private life, which was now practically non-existent. No blasted book was going to change his chosen destiny.
The following morning, Cadet Dueling Gymnasium:
Harry stood at attention on the Dueling Platform, silently running through various move combinations while waiting for his opponent to arrive. Harry was as prepared as he could be for this test of his dueling proficiency. He was a bit concerned, as there had been a last minute substitution of his examiner. Harry was to have dueled Filius Flitwick, the most skilled duelist at the Ministry’s disposal. All Harry was told was that an ex-pat expert had been called in to run Harry through his paces. No other cadet had a last-minute substitution of examiners. Harry refused to let this rattle him. This last duel was all that stood between him and his future, and he’d be damned if he’d let things as inconsequential as this staffing change, or a dusty old book, bother him.
The gymnasium went deafeningly silent as the mystery dueling master took his position on the dueling platform, mirroring Harry’s stance. His face was obscured by the hood of his cloak. With a wave of his hand, the opponent banished his robe, revealing his seemingly impossible identity to the shell-shocked Harry Potter. Kingsley appeared in the middle of the platform, and was about to give the order to commence dueling, when the sound of a wand dropping shattered the silence.
Severus Snape swallowed the distance between himself and Harry in five brisk strides. The dour wizard stood silently before Harry, watching multiple mercurial emotions as they flitted across his face.
“You are dead. I saw you die. How are you here?” Harry whispered.
“As you can see, Mister Potter, I did not die. I had hoped that you and I would be truly shot of each other, but the Fates have deemed that our association is destined to continue. I regret that your final examination has been preempted by the whims of Fate, but until we work this out, your examination is on hold.”
“If you mean we need to talk, I agree. Kingsley, I’m furious that you kept Snape’s survival from me. I’ve gotta go before I do something I’ll regret!”
Harry wordlessly summoned his wand, and before he could flee the gymnasium, Snape grabbed his wand arm and led him to the nearest fireplace. “Prince Manor” he barked, as he shoved Harry in first, and followed just in time to catch Harry before he could fall face-first.
Severus led Harry to the sitting room, and gestured for Harry to choose a seat. Harry stumbled to the sofa, still panting from the shock of seeing a supposed dead man.
“Do you realize that I blamed myself for your death? I thought I left you to bleed out on a filthy floor! Why didn’t you contact me?” Harry shouted, after he stopped hyperventilating long enough to voice his inner rage.
“Mister Potter, Harry, please calm yourself. My absence was orchestrated by Dumbledore and Kingsley Shacklebolt, long before I assumed the Headmaster position. I had ascertained that when the war inevitably came to Hogwarts, Voldemort would use his familiar, Nagini, to kill me. Minister Shacklebolt authorized an international portkey to the MACUSA Ministry infirmary, which activated when you left the Shrieking Shack. I spent several months recovering from the horrendous injuries the cursed serpent inflicted.”
Harry listened intently as Severus stated his case. After an increasingly uncomfortable silence, Harry chose his words carefully.
“I can understand that after the battle at Hogwarts, you would relocate until your sacrifices for the war effort were known and you were cleared of wrongdoing. What I don’t understand is why you didn’t contact me after the dust settled. I mourned you. The guilt was unbearable. I had graphic nightmares for months-”
Severus knelt in front Harry, taking Harry’s hands in his, while gazing intently into his verdant green eyes. “Harry, I felt a strong pull from you as I bled my memories into that vial. When I implored you to look at me, I realized that we shared a bond.”
“Why didn’t you tell me? I mean, when you recovered, why didn’t you contact me?”
“Harry, I didn’t contact you because I believed that walking to your death would free you from an undesired future with your hated professor. Albus’s portrait at MACUSA was sure that your death, short though it was, dissolved whatever bond we might share.”
“Professor-”
“Severus to you, Harry-”
“Severus, I’ve had a crush on you since my sixth year at Hogwarts. My crush didn’t die, even when I learned you and the Half-Blood Prince were one and the same.”
“I apologize, Harry, for failing to contact you.”
“Would you have ever contacted me, Severus?
“I truly believed you that were better off without me, but my appearance today was entirely my choice. I contacted Kingsley when I realized that your final Cadet duel was today. I had wanted to see you best your Auror examiner. Kingsley informed me that you had a soulmate, and I told him I believed it was me. The Fated Soulmates book confirmed it.”
“So your substitution as my examiner was your way of claiming your fated soulmate?”
“I am a selfish wizard, Harry. When I learned that our soulmate connection survived your demise, I had to present myself to you, to state my case.”
“State your case for what, Severus?”
“You would have to give up your position within the Elite Wizard Detective Squad. Kingsley told me it was your dream occupation.”
“Only because it would occupy my every waking moment. I have no family, few friends, and I had no reason to think that situation would ever change. And with you dead, I felt I had lost the only person who could ever see me for me, and not some celebrity with a name to exploit, and a disposable income to burn through.”
“Harry, I see only you - a courageous, war-weathered wizard, who has handled tremendous hardship and evil as a mere child that grown, experienced Wixen rejected and left you to handle. I see a man who loved his family and friends, only to be rejected when he refused to bend to their will and thus feed their greed. Harry, I see a lonely man who yearns for connection. Will you allow me to banish the loneliness?”
Harry was dumbstruck. During the silence that grew while Harry processed the events of the last twenty four hours, Severus released Harry’s hands, only to tenderly cup his face and gently direct his gaze toward’s Severus’s dark, shimmering eyes. A jolt of scintillating magic coursed through the pair, binding their souls before either could utter a word.
“What was that?” Harry gasped, as Severus continued stroking his cheeks.
“That, my dear boys, was the Fates sealing your soulmate connection,” chuckled the definitely not slumbering portrait of Eileen Prince, who had beaten Albus Dumbledore’s portrait in the delivery of the happy news.
“I believe that was my news to deliver, Madam Prince,” Dumbledore harrumphed.
“After all of your sadistic maneuvering, Albus, just be happy that my Severus hasn’t doused you in turpentine and Incendio’ed your painted carcass,” Eileen cackled. Albus vacated his portrait, stomping his feet like a petulant child.
“Harry, you haven’t yet had the pleasure of meeting my Mother. Harry, this is my Mother, Eileen Prince. And before you ask, she reverted to her maiden name as soon as she appeared in her portrait. Mother, this is Harry Potter, my soulmate, the man who vanquished Voldemort.”
“So, Mister Potter, do you think you can get my Severus to relocate to England? I am lonely here in Prince Manor-”
“Mother! You have a portrait in my quarters at Ilvermorny-”
“It is my understanding that your position is temporary. It is time you claimed your ancestral home!”
Harry chose that moment to interject. “I’d be happy to call Prince Manor my home. I like your Mother already, she actually wants you in her life. May I call you Mother, Ms. Prince?”
“I will accept nothing less, Harry Prince. Oh, yes, Harry, you are now a Prince. I have so much to teach you. The Noble House of Prince has a long and distinguished history dating back to the days of Merlin…”
“Mother, we have a lifetime to educate Harry as to our family legacy. For now, I’d like to give him a tour of the Manor, followed by a hearty meal and then, if he’s amenable, a long, leisurely discussion by the fire, where we shall discuss our future together.”
“Harry’s right here, and that all sounds great, but first, I’d like a meal, and a nap. I haven’t eaten, and have barely slept, since speaking with Kingsley yesterday. And before you ask, yes, Severus, I want you to join me while I nap, if you want to…”
“How about we summon a house elf to bring some lunch, and the you can doze by the fire. You look exhausted, Harry, and we certainly can’t retire together to the master bedroom until you have rested. We’re newly bonded, we are expected to consummate our bond.”
“Don’t relocate on our account” the occupants of the Prince family portrait cheerfully heckled.
“Don’t tease young Harry, he’s blushing…”
“I wonder how far that blush goes,” Severus purred into Harry’s left ear.
“Leave these two boys alone, ladies and gentlemen, or I’ll never be a grandmother-”
Harry gasped. “Is that even possible?”
“Although rare, it is possible, my Harry. And with your luck, the probability goes from possible to very bloody likely!”
“Language, Severus,” scolded Eileen Prince, who was already conjuring pink and blue skeins of wool in her portrait, for baby booties.
Just as this scene was about to fade to the inevitable Happily Ever After, a scroll materialized and plopped itself in the outstretched hand of the youngest seeker in Hogwarts history. The Official Soulmate Bonding Certificate unfurled itself, announced the bonding in a voice eerily similar to Percy Weasley at his most officious, and then popped away, to file itself deep in bowels of the Ministry, in the Hall of Vital Statistics.
Simultaneously, at the Burrow’s cramped kitchen table, a Howler exploded into a wall of sound. “Harry Potter is soulbound to Severus Prince. Forevermore, he shall be Property of the Half Blood Prince.” This Howler, due to a well-crafted charm, also sounded suspiciously like Percy Weasley. It’s amazing, the amount of intel a small portrait of Eileen Snape gathered from the lonely outcast Weasley. Listening to the pompous machinations of the Weasley outcast was a small price to pay for an eye into the enemy camp. Severus would soon be inordinately pleased with the fallout from that retaliatory Howler.
And, as you knew would come to pass, the newly minted Prince family lived happily ever after. With many children. Because no one says no to Eileen Prince.