Snape Lives

Harry Potter watched from his carefully concealed piece of shade delivered by a hundred year oak tree. To anyone else, who didn't know what they were looking at; it was a typical sunny afternoon in the park where a father was watching his son run around a playground, occasionally looking up from his book to offer a note of caution to the little boy. What people didn't know, especially in this quaint Muggle town, was that the man sitting on that weather worn bench was a war hero, someone who had given the majority of his adult life working against one of the deadliest wizards in history.

They had all assumed Severus Snape was dead after that fatal blow to the neck delivered from Nagini, what with all the blood loss, but apparently the entire wizarding world didn't know the Potions Master at all. They should have expected he would have been prepared for every possible outcome and prepared contingency plans A, B, C and D. No one knew how he had survived, but very few even knew he was alive, which was undoubtedly what he wanted. If he wanted to be a part of the wizarding world, he would have been awarded the title of hero, but the Potions Master never seemed one to enjoy the recognition that came with fame. That fame was probably one of the main reasons he was living in the Muggle world, literally and figuratively, a world away from the upheaval still being felt in the wizarding world.

Harry simply stood and observed the scene, not wanting to draw attention to himself; it wasn't his purpose to reveal to Snape he was being watched. No, he simply wanted to make sure the man who had inconspicuously helped him defeat Voldemort was happy in his new life. The man certainly looked content; his hair was cut close to his scalp and a speckling of gray hairs were popping up, he didn't look as gaunt as the last time Harry saw him, and his skin didn't seem as opaque. His eyes were as sharp as ever, evident when the little boy with him would have a balance issue on the playground and he would prepare his hand to grab his wand in case he needed to cast a quick spell.

The little boy, Harry could only assume, was Snape's son. He couldn't imagine Snape volunteering to watch someone's child. "Snape the babysitter" just didn't seem right. The boy looked a lot like his father; jet black hair, trimmed just as close to his little head as his fathers, dark eyes and a slim build. The child wasn't as pale as his father and he didn't appear to have the hooked nose his father displayed. He seemed quite jovial, laughing and running as if he had an endless supply of energy.

Harry watched as the little boy ran over to his seated guardian, waiting patiently until his father had closed the book and looked up. The little boy had asked his father a question and gave a wide smile while he bounced up and down in excitement. Snape simply nodded and stood as his son ran towards the set of swings on the opposite end of the playground. The elder man crossed the distance to the swings in a few quick strides; his son already climbing into the seat waiting for a push with his little legs swinging in anticipation. Snape grabbed the chains and gave a light push, sending the boy soaring into the sky laughing in delight. His giggles filled the air as he received another push. Harry couldn't help but smile when he saw his ex-professor twitch his lips in amusement.

After a few minutes of swinging, Snape slowed the little boy down and spoke a few words to him. The little boy ran up the stairs of the tall slide and waiting until his father was at the end before he took the plunge back down to the ground. His skinny arms were in the air as he slid down the plastic blue slide, expecting his father to catch him. Snape bent, swept up the little boy and flung him over his shoulder. He walked to the sidewalk with his kicking child, before he set the boy down.

The dark haired child didn't protest leaving the playground, but as soon as his feet hit the pavement he reached up for his father's hand. They walked hand in hand, the small boy skipping beside his straight-backed father. Before they rounded the corner on the way home, Harry caught one last glimpse of Snape the father. The boy had bent down to look at something on the cement and looked up in question to his father. Snape knelt down and peered at whatever was on the ground, Harry being too far away to see what that object was, and gave an explanation. The boy was intrigued by the answer and nodded in understanding. Snape took the boy's hand, stood back up and they continued their journey home.

Harry smiled as he watched them turn the bend in the road and couldn't help the heavy feeling of envy invade his chest. Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived, was jealous of a little boy and for a second wished Snape could have been his father instead.

A/N:

Thanks to Mak for being my beta all these years and humoring me when something like this pops into my head.

For now this is a one-shot, but Mak suggested I make it a multi-chapter story. Let me know what you think and I'll consider writing more. Thanks!