Chapter 1: I hate weddings!
A/N: The subsequent chapters are in honour of my baby sister Camelot Knight's upcoming birthday! (Okay, okay! You're seventeen, so not a baby anymore.) I'm aiming to make it a four-shot, not counting the prologue.
-o-
Harry Potter, aged twelve, wondered wearily if Snape (Professor Snape, Potter, a menacing voice corrected him in his head) had slipped him some horrid Imperius-like potion. How else could he have agreed to this?
His mother looked beautiful in the dreaded wedding gown, he thought. Not that that really means anything. He smiled sadly. I always think she's beautiful no matter what she's wearing. His gaze shifted to the groom, and his stomach coiled tighter than it had been all morning. Snape (Professor Snape? Severus? Anything-but-Dad?) didn't look like he was sucking on a lemon, for once. Though to be fair, he always seemed to mellow a little around Harry's mother. His hair was tied back, so the greasiness didn't show too much. Altogether, the effect was a lot different from the fearsome Potions Master he knew and hated from the first Potions class in Hogwarts.
He blinked twice and took a deep breath to clear his head before looking back at the scene before him. What would the Prophet describe this scene as, if they ever knew about this? (Which they wouldn't. It was, after all, a secret wedding. Only closest friends of the family—most of whom were standing here—knew about this.) 'Lily Potter re-married: to an ex-Death Eater'? or maybe 'James Potter's widow marries his greatest enemy'?
"Lily Potter, do you accept Severus Snape as your lawfully wedded husband?"
Harry's breath caught, and for one wild moment he dearly wished his mother would say no. He watched her carefully—was that a tear on her cheek? Right now, she didn't look particularly happy. Good. Maybe she's remembering Dad, Harry thought uncharitably. And immediately felt a twinge of guilt and shame. He reminded himself of the reason he had smiled and agreed when his mother had asked for his opinion and permission— she deserved to be happy with the man she loved. (Though the l-word still made him feel like he needed a shower and a good scrub...) She'd been alone too long. And Snape did seem to make her happy.
Lily seemed to gather herself. "Yes," she said, smiling through her tears. The pause had been barely more than two seconds, but Harry thought Snape looked almost… stricken at the delay. Snape had said yes immediately, even if he hadn't smiled like Lily. Harry looked away when they began to exchange rings. Ron, who was standing next to him, squeezed his elbow, and Harry smiled weakly at him in gratitude. What he'd do without Ron and Hermione he didn't know. Remus stepped up to hand them the rings. Snape tensed when Remus' arm brushed against his. Harry suppressed a laugh even through his irritation. Remus didn't deserve Snape's attitude just because of his prejudice against werewolves, and it set his teeth on esge to see him mistreated by Snape.
"I now pronounce you husband and wife."
Harry had to exercise every ounce of self-control he had not to bury his head in his hands and groan out loud. It didn't matter that Snape's behaviour to him all this time had supposedly been because he was still spy for the Order; Harry knew the man hated him because he'd hated James Potter! Dumbledore, who had been standing to Harry's left and smiling benignly at the couple, suddenly looked sharply at him. Harry held his gaze with some difficulty (hey, a man he hated was kissing his mother in public, and people were actually cheering; he could be excused for looking away) so he wouldn't have to see what was happening before him. He had the uneasy feeling he wasn't fooling Dumbledore at all.
-o-
As it turned out, more than one person had seen through his performance. A worried Hermione had asked him to write her if he needed to talk, and left it at that, but he had a feeling this other man wouldn't be so easily satisfied.
It was the morning after the wedding. Lily had slept in (Harry really didn't want to think about why—his mother had always been an early riser), and Harry had just finished making himself breakfast when Snape stepped into the dining room.
"Good morning," Harry mumbled, looking down at his toast. He still hadn't gotten used to seeing Snape in anything other than school robes.
There was no reply, and Harry was beginning to hope he could finish his breakfast in silence when Snape spoke up. "Your acting skills are worse than I thought. Your mother will see through you in no time, at this rate."
And wasn't that the whole problem. Why hadn't she noticed yet? Usually, his mother would notice something wrong with Harry a mile away—and Harry was no great actor, much as he hated agreeing with Snape. Swallowing a bite of toast became ten times as hard when there was a lump in his throat, Harry noticed absently.
"Or," and now Snape's voice had gone very soft and very low, and Harry stiffened, sensing danger, "perhaps you wish her to notice. Perhaps you plan to turn her against me by playing the abandoned, disconsolate son. A little late for you to launch that plan, isn't it, Potter?"
Well, at least he was calling him that instead of 'Harry' like he did when Lily was around—Harry didn't think he'd ever get used to that, either. "I don't have any plans," Harry spat, and then stopped to breathe in and out slowly, releasing his death grip on the knife and fork. "I meant it when I said I want my mother to be happy, Snape," he continued more calmly. "And you do make her happy. So unless that changes any time soon… that's the end of that."
"Hmm," Snape said coolly. Harry couldn't tell if he was pleased by his sort-of endorsement of their relationship. "A heroic sacrifice, worthy of a Gryffindor—maybe even worthy of your father, eh, Potter?"
"Which one?" Harry snapped back, and snickered at the look on Snape's face. He clamped down on the white-hot flash of anger at the mention of the man who should, by all rights, have been sitting in that chair and sharing Lily's bedroom. Don't lose it, he told himself. Stay calm, and get under his skin if possible.
"I am not your father." Snape's nose wrinkled in disgust.
Harry gave him a beaming, false smile, and then stood to take his dishes to the kitchen. He wasn't hungry anymore, he found. He started to tip the plate over the rubbish bin. A long-fingered hand caught his wrist and stopped the motion. "Stop hiding from me. You need to eat."
Harry stared at him in disbelief before shaking him off. "I thought you just said you weren't my father! I can skip meals whenever I want to— and I'm not hiding from you."
"Please," Snape said, his lip curling, "you've been running from each room I enter for a few days now."
Harry's denial stuck in his throat this time.
"I'll make a deal with you, Potter. In return for your…cooperation, during this whole affair, I give you my word I will not take advantage of my power as your legal stepfather."
Harry wondered what would happen if he flung his plate at Snape. "Is that how Slytherins think about family and relationships? Like…like business deals?"
Snape's nostrils flared. "Business deals are made for mutual material gain. As a Slytherin, how advantageous do you think it is for me to marry a Gryffindor, the former wife of James Potter, no less? I stand to gain nothing from marrying Lily!"
Harry shrugged. "There's Dad's money."
Snape went white with anger and took a step forward; Harry shifted, feeling trapped against the wall. The moment stretched out, and the two glared at each other. Then Snape's face blanked of emotion. He stepped back and turned to leave.
Something made Harry reach out and catch his arm. "I'm sorry…sir," he said with difficulty. "I didn't mean that. I know you care about my mother." I'd have fought this tooth and nail if I weren't sure about that.
Snape didn't turn around, but he'd stopped moving. "She's awake," he murmured. "Do try not to call me 'sir' in front of her, won't you?" With that, he left to greet Lily. Harry mentally acquiesced to the truce as he watched Snape take her in his arms, as tenderly as if she were made of china. Lily smiled as his lips met hers. Then she turned to give Harry a hug and kiss his forehead. Harry blushed even more furiously than he had when she and Snape had been kissing, but he couldn't bring himself to tell her to stop coddling him. Not that she would stop if he did tell her.
"Morning, Mum," he said, feeling shy in front of the intruder in their living room. She smiled down at him, her eyes sparkling and her cheeks rosy. "Good morning, Harry."
And all was right with the world—for now.
-o-
Of course, that was exactly when it all had to go wrong.
They were sitting at breakfast together. Lily had insisted on Harry eating some after Snape had told her about the food in the bin (traitor). To his surprise, Harry had found he was hingry sgain.
That was when the Patronus sailed into their dining room. "Severus: do not leave the safe house," it said in Dumbledore's voice. "Sirius Black has escaped from Azkaban, and Harry is most probably his target. I am at the Ministry; I will see you soon."
There was silence for a long minute where Snape and Lily looked at each other. Snape had a frighteningly angry look on his face, and to Harry's surprise and discomfort, his mother looked the same.
"Mum?" he spoke up, wishing they would stop looking at each other. "Who's Sirius Black?"
Lily turned to him, the anger gone. Sometimes it was almost Snape-like, the way she switched emotions off and on like that. "Harry," she said grimly, "there's something you need t oknow."
"And about time, too," Snape muttered, surprising Harry again.
"Sev," Lily said tightly, "we've discussed this—"
"Several times over the last decade, yes. He needs to be warned, Lily. About all of it."
"And as I've said several times over the last decade, Severus," Lily said with forced calm, "I want his childhood to be as normal as it possibly can, Severus, considering how little he gets of normality!"
Harry couldn't believe he was actually agreeing with Snape rather than his mother. "Are you going to tell me now why I've lived in a safe-house all my life?" he said hopefully.
"No," Lily said. She seemed to be engaged in a silent battle with Snape.
"But—"
"We will be telling you about Sirius Black," she said, breaking away from looking at Snape, to Harry's relief. She looked at Harry, and gave him the sad, frightened smile he hated seeing.
"Well?" Harry said, when a minute had ticked past and no one had said a word. Their food lay in their plates, and for the second time that morning, Harry had no appetite. Snape sighed. "Severus," Harry said boldly, thinking to himself that he would never, ever, get used to calling Snape that, "why don't you tell me?"
Lily and Snape did their silent communication that Harry was starting to find very annoying, and then Snape spoke up. "Sirius Black, Remus Lupin and Peter Pettigrew were James Potter's best friends in school," Snape began.
By the time he was finished, Harry was wishing he hadn't eaten that bit of toast. "We'll catch him, right?"
"We will," Lily said grimly. "I have some ideas about how he might have escaped." From the glance Snape cast at Lily, it almost seemed to Harry like he was surprised, but it was always difficult to tell with Snape. "You need to be very careful in school this year, Harry. I'm afraid I can't sign your Hogsmeade slip for you."
"What?" Harry cried. "Why?"
Snape opened his mouth angrily, then shut it and looked away. Good, Harry thought. Keep up your pretence; I can't deal with you now. Lily hadn't noticed. "Because he's out to get you, Harry." The genuine fear in her unusually stern voice gave Harry pause.
"How do you know it's me he wants?" Harry said. "He could be after Snape, for all we know! From what you both told me, it's clear they weren't friends!"
"Your father—your second father—has a name, Harry," Lily said, then went on, "We have our ways of knowing this. You know that you and Neville are the only boys your age who grew up in hiding, don't you? You are particular targets for the other side."
"But why?" Harry asked, for the hundredth time. "Why do they want us both? Why don't you ever tell me that?"
"Because you don't yet need to know, Harry."
Harry found himself in the unique position of silently beseeching Snape for help. Snape only blinked back at him, with as much expression on his face as a reptile's. Harry looked back at his mother, who suddenly looked older and more tired to him.
"I'm sorry, Harry," she said. "I promise you will know soon. It can't be long now."
No, you'll just keep it secret until you can't possibly, Harry thought resentfully, but didn't speak. The last thing he wanted to do was argue with his mother in front of Snape, and then get scolded for it by both. He stood.
"You have not been excused," Snape said coldly.
"It's all right, Sev," Lily said softly. "Let him go." But she caught Harry's hand as he passed, making him stop. "Harry, my love," she said, looking at him with Harry's own eyes, "I know you're angry that there are things being kept form you in your own house, and I know you think you should know." She cast a sly glance at Snape. "Severus happens to agree with you." She laughed at Snape's disgruntled look, and Harry watched half in disgust and half in amazement as the sound of her laughter made the hard lines of Snape's face soften. Even his nose didn't look that crooked when he was looking at Lily.
Well. Everyone knew Lily had a magical laugh. It was just weird to see it working on his Potions Master was all.
"Harry?" Lily said questioningly. "Are you all right?"
Harry realised he had been staring. No, I'm not , he wanted to say. And a killer from Azkaban is the least of my problems, Mum. Snape likes your laugh! But he'd promised himself he wouldn't ruin Lily's happiness, so… "I'm fine," he mumbled. Then he noticed Snape's thunderous frown, hidden from Lily's view. What have I done wrong now?
"Go pack, Harry." Lily smiled at him, and if she'd noticed how listless he'd sounded, she didn't show it. "You'll be leaving for Hogwarts in a few hours."
-o-
"Well, he's gone," Severus said, as the fire in the Floo died out. He turned to Lily, who still looked a bit sad after telling her son goodbye and sending him through to Hogwarts.
"Don't sound so relieved, Severus," Lily said, one corner of her mouth lifting. "You'll see him again soon."
She was so beautiful, he thought. He leaned towards her to kiss her. She jerked away. His hurt must have shown on his face despite his best efforts, for she sighed. "I'm sorry, Sev," she said, and to Severus's horror, there were tears in her eyes. "I know I'm being horribly unfair to you—"
"My love, believe me, I am intimately familiar with the prospect of unfairness in life; it has ceased troubling me." Blast, he was reverting to his usual stiffly formal way of speaking, but he hated to hear her apologise. For not being able to kiss him, no less.
"I know it's unfair to you," Lily repeated firmly, though one tear had slipped down her cheek. Severus wished he could kiss it away; he loathed that drop of saline water with all his soul. "But like I told you—"
—the morning after our wedding night, when I was on top of the world and thought you must be too…only your heart still lies with James Potter, doesn't it, Lily? Why else would you have been crying that morning? Why else would you have told me that—
"—I need more time. I don't know why I'm being like this; I truly thought I was over this, but…" Her hands, which she had been absentmindedly and mercilessly wringing the life out of, fell to her sides. She stood there, looking at Severus, her large green eyes full of helplessness as if waiting for pardon from a judge. Severus was struck again by how utterly beautiful she was.
He closed his eyes and mastered himself before opening them. Even Occlumency was of limited help when his bride of a two days was standing a few feet away and all he wanted was to take her in his arms, bury his face in her glorious red hair and not let her go till the world ended. "I'll wait, Lily," he said at last. What other choice do I have? He turned to the secure Floo that the boy had gone through before. He turned back once more to look at his sad, lovely wife, and spoke the words as sincerely as he could before the fire whisked him away, "Take your time, my love."
-o-
Snape looked mighty displeased about something when he stepped through the Floo into the Headmaster's office. "My office, now," he said as he flicked a wand at Harry's things. They disappeared at once. Harry hoped they were in Gryffindor Tower, not banished.
"Huh?" Harry said, trying to ignore the dread clutching at his stomach. "But we've only just arrived; isn't it dangerous to let people see us together?"
"Professor Snape dragging off an unhappy Harry Potter to his office for some punishment or other?" Snape mocked. "Is that unusual in your book, Potter?"
Harry sighed, and followed him. Snape shut the door behind him and began casting privacy charms. WheN he was done, he turned to Harry.
"Do you recall our deal, Potter?" he inquired silkily.
Harry was surprised. "Of course I do. Pretend I'm happy, and you won't torment me."
"Respect, Potter," Snape snapped. His eyes narrowed to slits. "You are not holding up your end of the bargain."
"What? Of course I am! What did I do?"
"You weren't being Slytherin enough," said Snape. "Lily is no fool; she already senses your brooding!"
"I'm trying, okay?" Harry cried. "I've just never lied to my mother before!"
"Well, you'd better learn fast," Snape sneered, "because I'm tiring of your teenage drama. If you fail, you will find out just how unpleasant I can make your life with my authority as your stepfather. And no, the secrecy of the marriage will not work in your favour. Dumbledore is most eager to have us interact and bond, and he can be very creative. I will not be beaten in this, Potter."
Harry stared at him in shock. "Do you hear yourself?" he whispered. "You really hated my father, didn't you? And you think I'm him! If you hate me so much, how could you agree to be part of our family?"
"The benefits outweighed the troubles, Potter."
"Really? Because you don't seem very happy to me."
Snape snarled, and suddenly he was looming over Harry, glaring in a way that was almost disturbing. "I warn you, Potter, ruin my marriage and Lily Potter herself won't be able to save you from me." The moment drew out, and onyx eyes bored into Harry's own.
"I've always meant to ask," Harry said, pretending not to be bothered. "If you hate me so much, why did you play with me back when I was five and my mother wanted nothing to do with you? Was it to get her attention?"
Suddenly, Snape straightened, his face tightening even more. "Go to your Tower, Potter."
-o-
Harry remembered.
He remembered the stern-faced man who had been associated, in his five year old mind, with secret hugs and smiles and safety. The memories felt so ridiculous now he had almost started to doubt them. Severus Snape used to approach him as though Harry were a wild animal, and then pet him as though he were a domesticated, furry animal. Harry had liked the careful but determined gentleness with which the man had handled him—so very different from Lily's open affection and Remus' hesitant touches, but still very nice.
He still had one photograph somewhere of himself sitting on top of a sleeping Snape, smiling goofily at the camera.
This man had up and disappeared one fine morning, and then stormed into Harry's life in Harry's first year at Hogwarts, black robes swirling, spitting venom at every student in class. But especially at Harry, always more at Harry. Harry had been stunned into speechlessness that first Potions class. Oh, his mother had told him about Snape's role as spy, and that he would have to be hostile to Harry and Neville in particular, and Gryffindors in general. But it hadn't really sunk in until then. To Harry, Severus Snape had been his childhood friend, his protector and oversized, slightly scary teddy bear. It had taken him several hours to get over the shock. Hermione hadn't been his friend then, so he hadn't been able to turn to her for help either. Ron had done more harm than good, despite his good intentions.
In the end, Harry had locked away Sev, his childhood companion, in the deepest confines of his mind, keeping him strictly separate from Professor Snape of Hogwarts. The two were separate, and the former had either been a spy acting, or was as good as dead.
That had been two years ago. Even then, he'd known his mother was renewing her friendship with Snape, but hadn't really given it much thought. Or was that re-renewing it? What exactly did go wrong the first time, and then the second time, I'd like to know, Harry thought darkly.
Speaking of Neville…
"Oof!"
"Oh! Sorry, Harry!" said the red-faced boy who had tripped and bumped into him. He seemed to be having trouble with his bag; he was bent over as if he was carrying two loaded trunks rather than a book-bag.
"Oi, Longbottom!" called Draco Malfoy. "Even hiding behind Potter won't help you with what we've put in your bag, you know. Did I mention it bites?"
Neville dropped his bag with a yelp. Books and parchment spilled out, along with… one heavy Bludger. The Slytherins burst out laughing. Ron and Hermione rushed at them, but for once, Harry didn't. He bent down to help Neville, staring at his dorm-mate all the while.
Why have the two of us been singled out all our lives? Why do we live in safe-houses while everyone else has just ordinary houses to live in? Why does Mum never tell me things, like the fact that I had a godfather who's th eeason my REAL father's dead, and an ex-Death Eater's taken his place?
"Thanks, Harry," said Neville. The blush hadn't faded from his face. Suddenly, Harry wondered what Neville would say if he knew Snape was Harry's stepfather now.
The door to the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom opened, and Remus stood there, smiling at the students gathered outside. Harry shook out of his morbid thoughts and smiled back, feeling slightly warmer at how Remus' eyes lingered over him as if to check if he was alright. It did get a little annoying sometimes—he cast a sidelong glance at Hermione, who was doing the same to him, and sighed. He knew they were all just concerned, and with good reason, actually. Not that he could tell them that, with Snape breathing down his neck.
"Come in," Remus said to everyone, gesturing welcomingly.
At last, something to look forward to. Now if he could just stop Snape from glaring at his best man (an impossibility, considering he had a ready excuse in his spying), he could be a little content.
