Thanks for the reviews, etc. :) Harry will be turning twelve in this fic.
Snape was ripped out of his thoughts by Harry's quiet voice as they walked back to his hovel.
"That was funny the way you let him create a history for me, sir."
"Eh? Oh. . . People believe your story more easily if they think they ferreted it out themselves." Snape murmured.
They fell silent for a while as they trudged along in the now gently misting rain.
"Were wrens really my mum's favorite bird, sir?" Harry queried.
Snape scowled, glanced at the boy, and caught a flash of his green eyes, looking at him like the provider of manna from heaven. Snape's expression softened slightly, and he relented.
"Yes. She was fond of their songs, and the stories behind them." Snape murmured.
"What stories, sir?"
"There is an old Aesop fable, that tells of a tiny wren who proved it's status as king of the birds, by engaging in a contest of strength." Severus answered, his low voice becoming slightly sing-song, hypnotic. "The wren hides itself in the feathers of a great eagle, and when the eagle flies as high and as far as it can, the fresh little wren leaves the back of the larger bird, and flies higher, and farther, winning the contest and proving it's cleverness, and the value of intelligence over brute strength. They are also sacred to the druids. Their complicated songs are used to divine the future. It is said that the fairy queen took the form of a wren." Snape's eyes were unfocused, far away as he continued. "Many say that a feather from the bird will serve as a charm against disaster. . . I found a wren feather in the park when we were children, and gave it to your mother. She wore it about her neck on a hemp cord, for many years. . ."
Snape fell silent. Harry peered up at his professor.
". . .No one ever tells me anything about my mother. Just that she was pretty, and good at charms. All I hear about is my father. It's like she only existed for him." Harry whispered.
A guttural snarl tore from Snape's throat, making Harry jump.
"She was more than just pretty and good at charms! And she certainly didn't exist solely to be your father's arm candy!" Snape hissed. "She was brilliant, and kind, and fierce, and her magic burned like a thousand suns! Plants and animals responded to her like nothing I've ever seen. It was like the earth itself welcomed her as it's own, like it was saying, 'this is our witch! She is ours and we are hers.'" Snape's fury ebbed abruptly, and he was left just looking tired. "She protected what and whomever she considered her own with an undying loyalty. Your life is proof of this."
"You. . . weren't just acquaintances who lived in the same town, were you." Harry mumbled. Snape shook off his strange mood, and glared at him, suddenly remembering who he was talking to.
"It's not really any of your business, boy." Snape snapped. He sped up, clutching their bag of takeaway like it was going to try to escape. Harry sighed, and trotted after him.