Author Notes: Hello again, everyone! Thank you so much for your kind reviews. Enjoy the next chapter :)
- Chapter Start -
"You were named after two great Hogwarts Headmasters, Albus Dumbledore and Severus Snape. And the latter," he turned to Snape who still hadn't moved, "whom the whole world presumed was dead for the past thirteen years, is the bravest wizard I have ever known."
Snape sat there, frozen, eyes glittering with disbelief, and what looked like fragile, painful hope.
Harry stared at him, disconcerted as an uncomfortable realisation unfolded in his mind. Despite the many testimonies Snape had received and the extensive coverage in the newspapers over his true loyalties, having someone name their child after him still managed to floor him.
"The Potions Master double spy?" Al's voice was soft.
Harry turned to see him staring intently at Snape.
"Yeah," he said and grimaced. "He - I met him at Hogwarts, but he isn't exactly the 'long lost friend' I told you."
Al gave him a wry look which, not for the first time, made Harry feel like he was the younger of the two.
"I gathered as much, dad."
Harry had to smile at his son's deadpan voice. He turned back to Snape who had snapped out of his shock to nod at him.
"I am honoured, Potter. Thank you."
Harry nodded as well, unsure of what he should say to that. Somehow, 'You're welcome' didn't quite fit the situation.
"Do you have anymore pressing questions?" Snape's dark eyes flicked to Albus and then back to Harry.
It took Harry an embarrassingly long moment to recall his next question, long enough for Snape to start looking amused again.
"Well, what have you been doing all this time?"
Now Snape looked like he was a hairsbreadth away from rolling his eyes.
"Potions, of course," he replied. "I am ill suited for anything else, and there isn't a ready market for the Dark Arts."
He held up an elegant hand to forestall Harry's next - and just as predictable question.
"Mail order under a company name. I do not intend to open an apothecary. And yes, it earns me a comfortable enough living as you can see."
The brief silence that followed was broken by the unmistakable crunch of a biscuit.
"Sorry, 'm hungry," Al mumbled when both sets of eyes swung to him. His stomach growled right on cue and he turned pink.
Harry chuckled as he ruffled Al's hair, only to have his hand pushed away with a whispered, "Dad...!"
"Sorry, son. I really shouldn't have brought you along," he apologised and turned to Snape.
"I guess we should-" he began only to break off when Snape shook his head.
"The rain will continue until morning."
"I know, but-" Harry broke off again when Snape rose to his feet.
"I was about to have dinner. You two might as well join me."
"Oh, we really shouldn't-"
"Potter. And Potter. I insist. Come along now." With that, the Potions Master spun on his heel and headed for one of the doors in the far wall.
Harry closed his mouth with a snap, feeling like he been given an order rather than an invitation; and worse still, like he was a student again. He looked over his shoulder at Al who shrugged, crammed the last of the biscuit into his mouth and stood up.
- o -
An hour later...
Snape's guest bedroom was small and sparsely furnished with dark curtains at the window, a queen size bed and a small chest of drawers. The sheets were clean and Harry suspected Snape had made the bed or at least Vanished the dust when he ate quickly and excused himself during dinner.
Which was a large pot of chicken stew with onions, carrots, potatoes and mushrooms, the gravy fragrant with thyme and oregano. Snape had looked pleased at Harry's praise and the sight of Al polishing off a large bowlful. When Harry commented on the quantity, Snape had replied it was more convenient for him to cook enough to freeze for meals later in the week, and brushed aside Harry's quick apology.
While Snape was dishing out the stew and Al getting bowls from the cupboard, Harry had ducked out of the kitchen to send a Patronus to Ginny and finally remembered to cast the Hot-Air charm on his person. He was sure it didn't do a thing for his hair (nothing ever did), but at least he was dry. He was also positive that Snape had to be mentally rolling his eyes at him the whole time - the Vanquisher of Voldemort, soaking his sofa cushions instead of drying himself off like how any half decent wizard or witch would.
"You must be so relieved he's still alive, dad."
Sitting on the edge of the bed, Harry blinked to see Al looking intently at him, already in bed with his clothes Transfigured into pyjamas.
"I am, son. It was... " he exhaled, "one of the things that always bothered me."
Al frowned, drawing up his knees under the blanket and folding his arms over them.
"Because his body was never found?"
"Yes. And because-" Harry broke off and pressed his lips together.
Despite being more than a decade old, the loss of lives in the Battle of Hogwarts was still a painful one. Seeing the same old articles in the papers every year was a bad enough reminder, but it was Snape's death that Harry found hardest to bear. He wasn't sure why since many of the others had been closer to him.
Remus, Tonks and Fred were practically family. Maybe it was because, as untimely as their deaths had been, they had managed to achieve something before they died. Fred and George's shop had been doing well, while Remus and Tonks had become parents.
Snape, on the other hand, hadn't achieved anything he could justifiably be proud of except maybe keeping Harry alive, a task he took no pleasure in. He had almost died without anyone knowing or even caring about his true loyalties. Voldemort had tried to kill him, not because he had found out, but simply to make himself master of the Elder Wand. Snape had almost died that night knowing he would never be lauded or hailed a hero.
"Dad? Because what?"
Harry hesitated, that stressful night when he had left behind the last of his innocence pressing upon his mind. Both he and Ginny had made a point of not discussing the battle with their children, finding the yearly articles reminder enough.
But right now, in this small room with Al looking at him with curious eyes and the heavy downpour outside, closing them off from the rest of the world, Harry felt he could unbend the rule just a bit.
"Because the last time I saw Snape was when he gave me his memories." Harry omitted the words 'as he lay dying in a pool of his own blood', but he could still visualise that scene as if it had happened just yesterday - the coppery smell of blood, the sweat running down his forehead and neck, the horror of what he, Hermione and Ron had just witnessed, the paralysing fear that Voldemort would win, and the utter helplessness of not knowing what to do next.
"Was that the night he supposedly died?"
Harry nodded and swallowed.
"After I viewed those memories, I understood so much more, but there was no time to tell him that."
There was no time to tell anyone anything then. He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to push back the memories of that night, interspersed with the old, abrasive memories of their numerous confrontations during his school years. There was no point in dwelling on them anymore, not when he had defeated Voldemort and survived.
A hand touched his and Harry opened his eyes to see Albus looking solemnly at him.
"You can tell him now."
Harry hesitated before shaking his head, still feeling that heavy exhaustion weighing him down.
"It's too late for that, Al." Thirteen years too late. "Besides, he already knows since it's all in the papers about how we cleared his name."
"I know, but..." Albus worried his lower lip with his teeth before nodding. "I think you should still tell him. Now."
"But he already knows," Harry protested, inwardly wincing at how he sounded.
"Just tell him, dad. If nothing else, you'll feel better," Albus insisted. "Isn't that why you tried to find him?"
No, that was because of the dreams, Harry wanted to say, but he pressed his lips together again. No doubt Al thought he needed this, thanks to his earlier outburst in the living room. Still, looking into those hopeful green eyes so like his own made a reluctant smile tug at his lips.
"Alright, maybe I will," he said. "But in the meantime, you get to sleep. It's been a long day."
Al snuggled down in the bed and Harry bent to kiss his forehead.
"Goodnight. Love you."
"Goodnight, dad. Love you too."
Harry left the room after switching off the light and closing the door. He took a deep breath, unconsciously squaring his shoulders before heading for the living room.
It was time to talk to Snape and perhaps find some closure for that night so many years ago.
- Chapter End -
A/N: Thank you for reading! Please leave a review if you enjoyed it and want to read more :)
