Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter and am not in any way affiliated with it. Thank you.
Taking Chances
Severus Snape was resting peacefully in his armchair. He had been reading the only book in his portrait, Moste Potente Potions, for the hundred and thirtieth or so time the night before. He had only gotten ten pages into the book when he found the lines blurring together on the page, so he had put down the book to take a short nap. However, that short nap quickly turned into a very long nap, and he wound up sleeping for over ten hours, with no intention of getting up anytime soon.
That is, until someone decided to wake him up.
"Severus," he heard Albus Dumbledore whisper, "wake up. Someone's here to see you."
"Go away, Albus," Snape mumbled, still half-asleep.
"Excuse me, Mister Snape," a new voice piped up.
This time, Snape opened his eyes. Peering down from his portrait, he found himself looking at a young boy who was almost the spitting image of Draco Malfoy. The only difference was that instead of sporting Draco's cold, grey eyes, the boy's eyes were bright and hazel. Snape smirked. So, Draco Malfoy had procreated, he thought to himself. He studied the boy carefully. He was a rather small boy who looked no older than ten, although Snape knew that he had to be at least eleven.
"Sir?" the boy said loudly, trying to get Snape's attention. He was looking at Snape with wide eyes. Snape realized that he had been caught staring.
"Well," he drawled finally, "I never thought I'd see the day when Draco Malfoy decided to settle down and have a family." He looked at the boy's brown eyes. "Let me guess. Your mother is Pansy Parkinson?"
The boy looked offended. "Of course not! My father would never marry that slut!" The boy promptly blushed and covered his mouth with his hands.
Snape suppressed a smile. "Thank Merlin for small miracles," he muttered to himself. Then he said, "Forgive me, Mr. Malfoy. I only assumed they had gotten married since she and your father were in a rather serious relationship during the majority of their years at Hogwarts."
"I know." He grimaced. "Father doesn't like to be reminded of those years. You see, sir," the boy said, "they were engaged to be married after the war. Then she met someone else and cheated on my father, that bi – " He stopped, looking sheepish. "My apologies, sir. Mother always says that swearing is a horrid habit. But what can I say? I take after my father in that regard."
Snape made an effort to not roll his eyes. The boy seemed to lack the same social graces as his father, although in terms of character, they seemed to differ. While Draco was more confident and arrogant, his son seemed to be more subdued and cautious. "While this is all very fascinating," began Snape, the sarcasm dripping from his voice, "I don't suppose you plan on introducing yourself anytime soon, do you? After all, you seem to know who I am."
"Sorry." The boy blushed again. "I'm Scorpius Malfoy. This is my first year at Hogwarts. I know you knew my father. Did you know my mother, too? Her name is Astoria Greengrass."
Greengrass. Snape racked his brain for a few moments before it clicked. "Ah, yes. Miss Greengrass. Small girl, brown eyes, dirty blond hair?" Scorpius nodded in the affirmative. "She was a Ravenclaw, if I remember correctly. She was a very shy young lady, but she was also rather bright." Snape glanced down at Scorpius. It was obvious that although the boy resembled his father almost perfectly, he was much more like his mother in terms of personality. "I presume she and your father met through the older Greengrass girl?"
"Yeah," Scorpius replied, nodding again. "Aunt Daphne became good friends with Father after the war. Father says that she comforted him after he split up with Pansy."
"I see." Their conversation was followed by an uncomfortable silence. "Well, it was nice meeting you, Mr. Malfoy," Snape said as he picked up his book. "Now, if there is nothing else that you would like to discuss – "
"Wait!" Scorpius exclaimed, and Snape turned to face the boy once again. "I didn't come up here to simply introduce myself. I wanted to tell you something."
"Go on, then." Snape was growing impatient.
He took a deep breath. "My father says that he's sorry."
"Sorry?" repeated Snape. He was taken aback. "What on earth has Draco Malfoy got to be sorry for?"
"For being selfish," the boy said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "You saved his life by taking the Unbreakable Vow, you know. He told me that he was embarrassed for not being more grateful. That's why he never came to visit your portrait."
This clearly was not what Snape expected to hear. Draco was remorseful? Snape raised an eyebrow. That did not sound the like the Draco Malfoy that he knew and taught.
Scorpius seemed to register Snape's confusion. "My mother changed my father," he explained. "She helped him grow up. At least, that's what I've been told." Then, as an afterthought, Scorpius added, "He also told me that he regrets not naming me after you to honour what you did for him and his family."
At this, Snape let out a snort. "I imagine you're quite relieved that he decided not to name you after me." Severus Malfoy? Snape thought that the name sounded ridiculous.
But Scorpius didn't laugh. "Not really," he said with a shrug. "Severus isn't that bad. I mean, Scorpius isn't exactly the greatest name in the world, either."
What boy would choose Severus over Scorpius? Snape wondered. He was about to make a comment when Scorpius said, "Besides, Harry Potter already named one of his kids after you. Father would have looked ridiculous if he'd done the same thing."
"Excuse me?" Snape barked. He knew he couldn't have possibly heard Scorpius correctly.
"He's in my year," Scorpius went on. "Albus Severus Potter."
"Another Potter?" Snape said to cover up his shock. "A dunderhead like his father, I'm sure."
"No, sir!" Scorpius cried earnestly. "Really, he's brilliant. He's the top of the class, along with his cousin, that Weasley girl. He's got nice, long, black hair, and his eyes are exactly the same shade of green as his father's, and – " Scorpius broke off and looked at the floor, a lock of blond hair falling in front of his face. He seemed to realize that he had been talking rather animatedly and promptly shut up in embarrassment.
The silence in the room was deafening. Snape noticed that none of the other portraits were talking. Finally, he asked, "How long have you two been together?"
Scorpius' blush confirmed Snape's suspicions about the boy. "We aren't together," he mumbled. "If we didn't have so many classes together, I doubt he would even know that I exist. I mean, he's a Gryffindor. He's smart and popular, and everyone loves him. I'm just a lowly Slytherin who keeps to himself and reads all the time."
Snape couldn't help but smirk at the situation.
"This was also why I wanted to talk with you," Scorpius explained. "I figured that since you had been in a similar situation with Lily Evans – "
"How do you know about that?" Snape interrupted, his voice sharp and cold.
"Sir," said Scorpius, shaking his head, "everybody knows about you and Harry Potter's mother."
Snape groaned. "Damn that Potter," he growled, a bit louder than he intended to, and he saw Scorpius smirking at him.
"So, I just thought that maybe, with you having been in a similar situation and all, you could give me some advice," Scorpius added quickly.
"Advice?" He peered at Scorpius suspiciously. "Since you undoubtedly know the story of my feelings for Lily, you know that I failed abysmally in my attempts to capture her affection," Snape said stiffly. "What kind of advice could I possibly be able to give you?"
Scorpius shrugged his shoulders again. "I don't know," he murmured. "I'm not actually sure why I'm opening up to you like this. I guess I'll just get going."
This time, Snape didn't even bother trying not to roll his eyes. "Mr. Malfoy, you are being ridiculous and cowardly. If you have something to say, spit it out."
"I'm not a coward!" the boy insisted.
Snape felt himself freeze upon hearing those words. "All right, then," he said slowly. "You are not a coward, you say? Then prove it to yourself."
"How?" Scorpius wanted to know.
"Talk with Mr. Potter. You do not need to let him know of your feelings just yet."
"He might just laugh at me," Scorpius said quietly. "I don't know if I want to risk the humiliation. I mean, I don't even know if he swings that way. Even if I did talk to him, it might end up being all for nothing."
Snape found himself growing irritated with the boy's indecision, although he knew that he was being hypocritical in doing so. "All for nothing?" he repeated, incredulous. "You say you have strong feelings for this young man, but you're going to pass up a chance to start something with him because you're afraid that the situation could turn out badly?"
Scorpius said nothing.
"Without taking that chance, you'll never know what could have been. Your mind will be stuck on the 'what ifs' for the rest of your life."
"That sounds rather impulsive, don't you think?" argued Scorpius. "And a bit Gryffindor-ish, too."
Snape scowled. "You asked for advice, did you not? I gave you advice. Now this is the point where you leave me be and we go our separate ways."
"I didn't mean that there was anything wrong with being a Gryffindor. I'm practically in love with one of them, remember?"
"As I said, Mr. Malfoy," Snape told him, "if you feel that strongly about Mr. Potter, and if you truly believe that he is worth the effort, then take the opportunity in front of you before it slips away. Because if you do, you will regret it later. Trust me when I say that."
Silence followed this statement. "Thank you, Mr. Snape," Scorpius said finally. "I suppose I'll try to talk to him. I wish I knew more about him, though. It would make things easier if we had something in common."
Snape smirked at this. "Mr. Malfoy, you are a Slytherin, are you not? I am sure that you will think of something."
Scorpius smirked back. "Of course, sir," he replied cheekily. Then, after nodding his goodbye to Snape, he turned and headed back to his dormitory, leaving a solemn Snape to once again reflect on his past.
End.
