Summary: Albus wants to know why his middle name is Severus. Harry tells him and comes to an unsettling conclusion: he must pay a long overdue visit.
Disclaimer: JK Rowling invented the characters and the world, and owns them. We're not pretending to be her, and we don't do this for profit.
Rating: Nothing you wouldn't read in the books. K+
Comment: In the books, we don't see Harry's reaction to Snape's memories, except for the conversation with his son in the epilogue. I needed more closure.
excessivelyperky gave me some excellent advice for this story, many thanks to her.
I do revise orthography and grammar, but errors may have slipped through. English is not my native language.
What's In A Name
by
Miranda
1.
"Dad?"
"Yes?"
"At school, there was... they told me stories..."
"Yes, I imagine."
Harry waited.
---
When he was a child, still living with his aunt and uncle, all he wanted was to be a normal boy, living in a normal family. A father, a mother, maybe a sister or a brother, people who loved him and were glad to have him around. Then, when he came to Hogwarts, all he wanted was to blend in, learn as much as possible about magic. He wished for his newfound life of camaraderie, laughter and study never to end. Most boys dream about being heroes and living fantastic adventures. Everyone wanted to be different than they were. But circumstances had taught Harry soon in life that to wish for adventures was a dangerous thing, and that being different wasn't always as cool as it was made out to be. Only very reluctantly, and almost too late, did he truly accept what wordy journalists and would-be historians were already beginning to call "his fate". For him, it was much simpler: he had accepted who he was, and where he was, and had decided what he wanted to do with it. It was hard, but afterwards, everything fell into place; as if he'd been underwater in an ice-covered lake, and had finally broken through to the surface.
That was many years ago, but he hadn't forgotten how much it had hurt. Hogwarts was a school after all - they were just kids. They couldn't help staring at him, pointing and whispering behind his back - "did you see?" "it's him!" "did you see the scar?" "shut up, he's coming this way!" And if being The Boy Who Lived was interesting, being his child was quite as interesting - especially once Quidditch-season was over. James hadn't been spared when he first went to Hogwarts, now it was Albus, and in two years it would be Lily's turn to be pointed at and whispered after. You could almost consider it a family tradition.
Of course they knew the stories, Harry and Ginny wanted their children to know who their parents were, where they came from, and what they had to do to make the safe world they grew up in even possible. But for a long time, it was just that: stories. When Ron and Hermione came to visit, they would get into endless arguments over who said what to who and who figured out what. These arguments were usually ended by a sharp head-pounding and a sounding kiss (not necessarily in that order). Sometimes, at the breakfast table, Harry and Ginny would reminisce, about Quidditch games or pranks, and break out in laughter - but other times their faces would get somber, and they'd gather their children around them and tell a story that made Lily climb into her mother's lap and squeeze her eyes shut, while James looked into his father's face with a mixture of horror and fascination, and Albus poked around in his empty plate and pretended not to even be in the room. After the children had run out into the sun to live the mysterious lives children lived during the holidays, full of private anguish and ecstasy, the parents looked at each other, unspoken words hovering around the corners of their mouths.
Although Ginny and he had both asked James to look after his brother, Harry knew that Albus was a quiet boy, much quieter than his older brother and his little sister; he tended to keep things to himself, trying to figure them out on his own. So Harry wasn't surprised that Albus hadn't confided in James, and that he only came to his father now, after almost the whole summer vacation was over, and the trunks to go back for his second year at Hogwarts were already packed. He was standing a few paces away from the armchair where Harry was reading.
---
"Dad, I want to know..."
He fell silent again, his eyebrows knit in a deep frown, too deep for such a slight boy. In that moment, he reminded Harry of Remus Lupin. His heart ached for his son. No matter how much love and warmth his family and friends gave him, he would not have an easy life, this one. He would not let himself.
"Come here, Al." Al took a few steps closer and put his hand on the armchair, still holding himself very straight. Harry put away his book. "What do you want to know? If I know the answer, I promise I will tell you the truth. And if I don't know it, we'll try to find out together. Fair enough?"
"Ok."
"Ok."
"I want to know about my name."
"Your name?" Harry was confused for a moment. He had expected a question about how many people he'd killed during the battle of Hogwarts, or maybe about Hermione and him being sweethearts at some point.
"You know about how I'm called Albus after professor Dumbledore, and how he was so wise and such a great wizard and had that phoenix and all?"
"Yes?"
"And then I'm also called Severus after - after professor Snape?"
"Yes..."
"Well, they told me... they told me..." Harry could see him fiercely fighting back tears.
"Albus, just tell me. What did they tell you?"
"That he was evil! He killed people! Lots of them, thousands! And he killed grandma Lily! And he tried to kill you too! And you named me after him? Why? Why, dad?"
It had all burst out of him, and now he didn't care about the tears either, freely flowing over his face. Harry wanted to just gather him into his arms and tell him it would all be all right, but that wasn't what his son needed right now. What he needed were answers. In the kitchen door he could see his wife, taking in the scene, wide-eyed. Harry knew she had heard Al's explosion, and he knew that her first instinct was the same as his. But she only nodded at him and went upstairs without a word. The mother's time would come later.
"I did tell you why I named you after him. When we said goodbye at the station, do you remember? When you were worried you might get into Slytherin?"
"But I didn't, I didn't! I am Gryffindor, just like you and mom!"
"I know you are. But do you remember what I told you? I told you that you were named after two headmasters of Hogwarts, and what else did I tell you?"
"I don't remember..."
"Yes you do. I told you that Severus Snape was the bravest man I had ever known, and he was a Slytherin, so if you were meant to be a Slytherin, you could be proud. *I* would be proud. That's what I told you."
"Yes, but you didn't tell me about the evil part!"
"Snape was not evil. He was - troubled."
"Then why do you say his name like that?"
"Like what?"
"Like it's something you want to spit out. 'Snape'. Like a snot-flavored Berty's Bean."
Harry sighed. This boy was definitely too smart for his own good.
"Sn-... Severus and I didn't really get a chance to... There were a lot of misunderstandings, and-"
He broke off. Now his son's face was just one big question mark. Harry took a deep breath.
"All right. I will try to tell you the whole story, as best I can. I was around your age when it all began, after all. And you, I believe, are old enough to hear about your father's mistakes."
His son's serious gaze almost broke Harry's heart.
"What about James? Does he know?"
"James hasn't asked me yet. I will tell him when he's ready. And you must promise to let him be the one to ask me, just like you came to me today. Will you promise me that?"
"So it's a secret?" A tentative grin began to creep over Albus' face. Knowing a secret that his father was telling *him*, just him, and not James, was just too delicious, even for a such a serious boy.
"No, it's not a secret. But it's not an easy story, and just as you had to know now, there will be a time for James to find out. This is important, so you have to promise. Promise, Albus."
"I promise." In the face of his father's intensity, the grin disappeared, and only the deep earnestness of an eleven-year old boy remained.
"All right. Sit down, this will take a while. When I first came to Hogwarts, I hated Severus Snape on first sight."