Harry Potter does not belong to me.
Several years had passed since the battle of Hogwarts and the death of Voldemort.
Severus Snape pondered on his life, and what he would do now, as he often did. Though he had survived the war, he no longer had a place at Hogwarts. He wasn't needed, and he quite frankly could no longer stand watching over idiotic children accidentally creating exploding poisons instead of the potions they were supposed to.
He wasn't sure, really. He'd had time to think on it, though. And, after a while, he realized that he missed the person he once was. He missed being the friendly but downtrodden boy that had befriended Lily, before he had been seduced, changed by the dark arts.
And so, he decided to revisit his past, and renew what friendships he could.
And then, a thought struck him. He had once known a muggle woman from the United States, in the biblical sense. Though he had cared for her, he eventually realized that he was only pretending she was Lily, and so he left out of shame. It had the year nineteen-eighty-seven, as he recalled.
Though he sought her out, if only to apologize for what he had done, he couldn't find her. Even magical methods revealed nothing; she was no longer walking this Earth. However, he didn't leave it at that. He wasn't quite sure why he continued to search, even for her family members; perhaps he wanted some confirmation that she was real and not a figment of his imagination created by grief and depression.
He found something.
It was a boy. A man, really. He was nearly thirty by now, but his age could be no coincidence. Severus knew the boy's mother hadn't cheated on him, she truly cared for him, and he made sure regardless. No, this boy was his child.
And so, with that, he sought out his son, at first only looking for information. And he found quite a bit.
His son was, like himself, a wizard. However, he much preferred the muggle lifestyle, and was actually somewhat of a celebrity among them. He even shared his father's hair, face, and complexion, though not his height.
He was a musician, having defined an entire musical genera after accidentally inventing a new spell to magically recreate the tones, and using said spell as his working name.
Listening to his works only made his ears hurt, but he supposed that musical taste was not, in fact, inherited.
Though he wanted closure, he knew that seeking out his son after so long would do neither of them good. But he was still pleased that he had at least brought something of worth into this world.
He was genuinely happy that he had fathered Sonny John Moore, also known as Skrillex.