Chapter Text
Solomon follows the man ahead of him, the both of them wearing black robes despite the heat of the day beating down upon them. He subtly smirks at the billowing of the man’s robes, glancing at his own behind him and feeling a small glow of pride as he sees them also flitting in the breeze of their brisk pace. He fully catches up to the man, looking up slightly at his face to see the near-permanent scowl there as the man’s dark eyes scan over the various children and parents running around in the busy street.
“Was it… wise to visit Diagon Alley on a Saturday in mid-summer, dad? The shoppers are… irritating.” Solomon states, smoothly sidestepping a 10-year-old as he scampers by.
“Too late for your opinion, boy. Not that I asked for it.” His father scowls down at him. Solomon only grins up at him, unruffled by his short response. He’s well used to it after growing up in the same house as the Potions Master, who rolls his eyes at his smile.
They walk to the stairs of the large marble building on the corner, the name emblazoned on the front reading ‘Gringotts’. His eyes skim over the golden warning plaque on the wall, the poem there warning against thieves well-known to him. They step in, Solomon taking a relieved breath of the cold air within. He follows his father to the nearest open counter, watching the goblins around him counting coins and measuring precious stones.
“Good fortunes. We are here to request an inheritance test for my son so he may claim his Heirship ring.” His father states to the goblin behind the counter, who regards him with a judgmental eye, met by the man’s unwavering slight sneer. The goblin nods once, pulling out a slip of paper.
“House name?” the goblin crackles, his voice rough like tumbling stones.
“Prince.” Solomon’s father states, the goblin nodding once, writing something on the paper before holding it up, the parchment disappearing in a puff of smoke. Solomon watches this from the corner of his eye, preferring to observe the other people in the bank as they wait.
“What does the test consist of?” Solomon asks quietly as he looks up to his father.
“Three drops of blood. That is all.” The man states in his Northern drawl, studying Solomon for a moment. “They will provide the dagger.”
“Because a needle isn’t dramatic enough, of course.” Solomon nods sagely with smirk. His father’s lips twitch slightly, the closest to a smile Solomon will get while in public.
They’re called back by another goblin at a side door, following him down the twisting corridors that are certainly too large to fit in the outward footprint of the bank on the street. Solomon makes a mental note of that little quirk as he walks alongside his father. They enter a small office where another, more familiar goblin awaits behind his desk.
“Meathook. May your gold multiply with ease.” Solomon’s father bows slightly, Solomon following suit.
“Lord Prince. I see you have brought your heir with you. Inheritance test?” the goblin grins, his teeth a bit too sharp for Solomon’s liking.
“That is correct. We are here to gather his Heirship ring.” His father nods as he takes a seat in front of the desk, Solomon taking the other chair.
“Good, good. Now boy, prick your finger with this silver dagger, and drop three drops upon the page here.” Meathook states, sliding a piece of blank parchment across the desk.
It gleams softly in the light, the simple appearance belying the strong magic within the parchment. Solomon takes the dagger, eyeing the fancy carvings upon the hilt for a moment before taking the blade to his fingertip, carefully drawing a line. He winces at the sting, dropping three drops onto the page. He hears a quiet murmur beside him, his father healing the small cut with a simple spell.
Solomon watches with interest as the page absorbs the blood in moments, ink beginning to write across the page. Meathook indicates he should read it while he takes his own copy, raising an eyebrow as he quickly reads it. Solomon furrows his brow, wondering what has the usually stoic goblin so amused. He looks at the paper, turning it slightly so his father can read it as well.
Magical Heritage and Core Examination
Basic Information
Name: Solomon Thomas Snape (14)
Mother: Angelina Verus (deceased)
Father: Severus Tobias Snape
Siblings: Harry James Potter (brother by willed guardianship) (11)
Heirships:
Primary Heir of the House of Prince
Compulsions
NONE
Restrictions
NONE
Solomon raises an eyebrow as well, glancing to Meathook, who has a shit-eating grin on his face, eyes gleaming. He then glances at his father, whose face has gone as white as snow.
“How… curious. Harry Potter is my, what, brother? What does ‘willed guardianship’ mean?” Solomon asks while his father grabs the paper. He lets him take it to read over and over again, his own eyes going to Meathook once more.
“Willed guardianship means the boy was intended to be cared for by your father, little wizard.” Meathook grins with glee as the drama before him unfolds. “As put in someone’s will. Whose, we may never know, though it is likely the will of Harry's mother, yes, Severus?”
Severus looks up sharply at Meathook, eyes narrowing before glancing to Solomon.
“Whatever the reason… we can cover that later, dad.” Solomon says with a nod to him, understanding the questioning look. Severus heaves a sigh, running a hand over his face and leaning back in the chair in a rare lack of composure.
“Yes, I will… inform you of the circumstances at another time, Solomon. For now… where is the boy?” Severus asks after a moment of gathering himself.
“Let me see… Harry James Potter… where are you, little scoundrel?” Meathook stands, walking to the drawers behind him, pulling out one and skimming through it.
“Likely in the care of some distant Potter relative and being spoiled half to death.” Severus grumbles, Solomon smirking silently to himself.
“Here we are! Harry Potter. Currently at… 4 Privet Drive in Surrey. House is registered as belonging to one Vernon and Petunia Dursley nee Evans." the goblin reads out.
Once more Severus seems to turn into a statue, eyes widening for a moment. Silence reigns for a beat before he’s on his feet in a flash, snatching the page from Meathook’s hands.
“WHAT?! TUNEY?! He was placed with Petunia, of ALL people?!” Severus explodes, reading the paper, hands shaking slightly. “No, no, that isn’t right. That… Merlin’s beard.”
Solomon tilts his head, studying his father’s odd complete loss of composure with almost clinical interest, though concern does make itself known in a brief expression before being masked. Severus stands over the desk, placing the paper down between his palms as he rests them flat on the surface, his shoulders tense as he stares down at the page. Meathook looks positively delighted, folding his hands neatly upon the desk.
“Why would Albus… Petunia? She HATES wixen. Hates MAGIC for Merlin’s sake. Why would the boy be placed there?” Severus mutters, reading the page over once more, then looks back to Solomon sitting behind him.
“… the more the merrier, father.” Solomon says quietly, nodding and subtly giving his okay for what needs to happen at this point. Spontaneous adoption time. He thinks to himself.
“I will retrieve him.” Severus says after a moment, gathering himself quickly, nodding to Solomon before looking at Meathook. “The boy should have been with me, per the will. He should never have gone to Petunia’s care.”
“Understood, Lord Prince. I will make the necessary arrangements on our end.” Meathook states, taking out a parchment and writing quickly upon it, then glancing up to Solomon. “Ah, yes, boy. This test has confirmed your Heirship to the House of Prince. Therefore, you may wear this ring at your leisure.”
The goblin reaches into a drawer, taking out a ring box and placing it on the desk. Solomon reaches forward, taking the box and opening it to see a golden band set with a black stone that seems to have a carved crown inside the rock, not upon it. He takes it from the box, Severus watching as he slides it onto his ring finger, the band resizing automatically to fit. He looks up to Severus, who, despite his shock at other revelations, wears an expression of pride, catching Solomon’s eyes with his own.
“As is right, Solomon.” He murmurs. Solomon can’t help a smile, looking down at the ring and letting it catch the light as Meathook takes the ring box, closing it with a snap.
“Whenever you are prepared, gentlemen, you may return with the Potter boy for his own inheritance test. It may reveal further vaults or connections yet unknown.” Meathook states.
“We will return before the school year begins.” Severus looks to the goblin before looking to his son and jerking his head toward the door. Solomon stands, straightening his robes as Severus bids Meathook goodbye, stepping out into the hall with him.
“Follow.” Severus commands, moving down the halls with ease, Solomon beyond lost in the labyrinthine corridors, but trusting his father knows where he’s going. They step back out into the main entrance room, Severus leading the way outside into the heat that hits them like a physical wall.
“We will be Apparating home. There is much to be done.” Severus states as he moves through the crowds like a dark shadow. Solomon walks alongside him, already thinking of several steps that must be taken in preparation for having an 11-year-old around the house. And one who had been raised by Muggles, to boot. They reach the Apparition point, and Solomon takes his father’s arm, side-alonging with him back home.
They appear in front of their house, Solomon wincing at the slight wooziness Apparition, especially being side-alonged, causes. He looks up to see his father already striding to the house in Spinner’s End, following him once he gets his balance back. His father unlocks the door, stepping in with him, shutting the door firmly before walking straight to the sideboard in the living room. The candles light automatically upon his entrance into the small living room as he grabs out a bottle of firewhiskey, pouring himself a glass.
“… do we want to talk about everything now or later?” Solomon asks quietly as he leans on the doorway.
“Now. Sit.” Severus takes a drink of whiskey before dropping into his usual armchair. Solomon takes his spot on the couch, leaning back with a quiet sigh, studying his Heirship ring in the dimmer light. They sit in silence for a few minutes, Solomon used to his father’s long bouts of quiet when pondering something.
“Lily Evans. That is Harry’s mother’s name.” he begins quietly, leaning back against the chair as his fingers drum on the side of his glass. “We were best friends when we were younger. I knew her and her sister growing up.”
He takes a small sip of whiskey, not bothering to mask his expressions in his own home, regret and grief settling on his face.
“She found out she was a witch when I saw her doing magic and told her. And then we were both accepted into Hogwarts. She went to Gryffindor and I to Slytherin, as you know.” He explains. “But her sister, Petunia Evans, was not a witch. And she was beyond bitter about that. Even tried to write to the school to ask to go as well.” He scoffs. Solomon raises an eyebrow at that, shaking his head.
“Not how it works.” He mutters with a sigh.
“But Petunia didn’t know that. She held out hope that she’d get her letter, but when September 1st rolled around and she still had nothing… she became rather angry. Jealous. Turned away from magic altogether and harbored a hatred for it and our world ever since.” His father explains with another sip of whiskey. “The last I knew of her, she was married to some Muggle that Lily disliked. But far be it from her to tell her wretched sister who to marry.”
Solomon nods slightly, already mentally drawing his own conclusions.
“You think Petunia may have… mistreated Harry due to his mother? Because he's a wizard?” he asks quietly.
“It is of high probability, yes.” Severus murmurs, studying the amber liquid in his glass. “The boy is a wizard, no doubt. And has likely manifested accidental magic by this age.”
“You thought he was with the Potter’s extended family?” Solomon asks.
“Yes.” His father’s face twists in disdain and disgust. “James Potter. The man was a little shit when we were in school. A bully. Thought his status as a Gryffindor made it so he could do no wrong. He and his little group of scum called themselves ‘the Marauders’ and terrorized the school for years. Merlin knows why Lily fell in with them.”
“Going by the surnames, she ended up with James.” Solomon nods quietly.
“She did. I… said some things I shouldn’t have, pushed her away, and made terrible choices afterward.” Severus murmurs, taking another sip of his whiskey. “I was an idiot. I was young.”
He seems to get lost in thought and memory for a few minutes, Solomon letting him process as he inspects his new ring silently, leaning his head back against the couch. He can see the hurt and regret on his father’s face, rare indeed.
“When the war was going on, she and James went into hiding. But You-Know-Who found them nonetheless. He murdered them. Then turned his wand upon Harry. And you know how THAT turned out for the Dark Lord.” Severus says quietly.
“I’m sorry.” Solomon murmurs. “That… must have been awful to learn of.”
“Why are you apologizing for something you didn’t do? Not your fault that she was killed by a sociopathic, homicidal lunatic.” Severus growls, taking a longer drink of his whiskey.
“Doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt.” Solomon says quietly, Severus looking to him over his glass before heaving a sigh, the momentary anger melting away nearly as fast as it arrived.
“You’re right, of course.” He mutters, looking away out the window. “And now the boy has been misplaced by the man who should have respected or at least CHECKED the wills of Lily and James. He would have known to send the boy to me, not that spiteful hag.”
“We need to get him back. It doesn’t sound like he’s safe in the LEAST.” His son states, turning the Heirship ring on his finger.
“We? No, you aren’t going anywhere near that woman’s house. I will retrieve him.” Severus says firmly as he finishes his drink, standing and setting the glass aside.
“Dad, while I understand your caution, don’t you think the boy is more likely to cooperate with someone closer to his age? Especially since we have no idea what we’re walking into. It could be that he’s been hurt. He might be afraid.” Solomon states as he stands as well.
“No. I don’t trust that woman as far as I can throw her. And from what I understand, her husband is even worse. Lily hated him. And she was an excellent judge of character. Except for James.” He adds with irritation.
“No, you will stay here. I need you here anyway- his room must be prepared. The guest room upstairs.”
“THAT I can do.” Solomon nods. “Fine. You get the Potter boy; I’ll stay here and arrange everything.”
“Good. I’m leaving immediately. I need to get him out of that situation as soon as possible.” Severus states, examining his wand holster for a moment before straightening his robes.
“I’ll set everything up, grab some of my old stuff for him to have until we get him his own clothes and such.” His son nods, already heading up the stairs.
“I will be back shortly. And Solomon… get a med kit ready. I do not know what state the child will be in when I return.” His father looks at him. Solomon nods grimly, disappearing upstairs.
“Alright… let’s get the damned Boy-Who-Lived.” Severus mutters to himself, stepping out the front door and outside the wards of the house before Apparating away.