Seeds Sowed
Warning: contains minor spoilers for TDKWWS and Cross-Pollination.
Vbt22220: Could you write a one-shot where Severus comes back from work and sits down and just thinks about his life and how it's changed? And maybe it could be set after he visits the future in Cross-Pollination? It can be melancholic for him too.
-o-O-o-
A cup of tea going cold to his right, Severus stares down at the picture Lily's son gave him only a couple of hours before. There's no doubt his younger three are also half-Weasley. The girl, Lily, takes greatly after her grandmother, Molly. She's short and a bit on the thicker side, but not unattractively so. And the eldest boy has an impish look to him that brings back memories of when he'd catch the boy's uncles, George and Fred, plotting mischief. Only the middle one, Severus's namesake, takes profoundly after his father's side of the family rather than his mother's. He's got the same mess of black hair as his father and skinny build. His eyes are Lily's, though.
Severus traces the boy's face. Now that he sees Lily so often, he can tell the boy's smile is quite like her smile too. He thinks, perhaps, Harry's smile had been more like his mother's than his father's too. It's a shame he was too focused on how unlike the boy is to Lily when he was a professor at Hogwarts during his first lifetime to notice.
He puts his elbows on the tabletop and steeples his hands together. Now that he's a father to not one, but two sons, Severus can't help but regret that. He will be furious if any of Hogwarts staff judges his children because of his past-transgressions and hold them to unreasonable expectations because of what he was like as a student. It's really not funny, but he laughs all the same. The things parenthood teach you can be surprising and eye-opening.
Sometimes he thinks perhaps Hogwarts would be a better school if they hired more professors who have children. They'd know better than to judge children on their names and family members. No matter how much a child may look like their mother, or their father, or their brother, or their grandmother, and so on, that does not mean they are the same as them.
More than anything, he's ashamed it took him becoming a parent to learn such a lesson himself. It shouldn't have. He knows from his own school experiences what it's like to be judged. For being a Slytherin. For being a half-blood in Slytherin. For being a poor half-blood in Slytherin. For being a poor, ugly half-blood in Slytherin. It should have been a lesson enough, yet…
He shakes his head. He used to be so blind. He let his anger, his grievances with others, and his own misery color his perceptions and ruin relationships that could have been truly enlightening before they even had a chance to bloom. There are days he wishes he could go back more than others to fix the things (people) he knows he must have left broken behind him. But he knows he can't. Their first life's reality is set in stone and done.
A soft knock sounds from the door of his potions laboratory, pulling him out of his musings. Severus looks up from the photo and calls out, "Come in." He isn't sure if it's his wife or son on the other side, but he's glad for the distraction.
The door opens and in pops his oldest, Lewis. "Mum says you're not brewing today, so it's okay I came down," he starts, already prepared in case Severus tries to shoo him out.
"It is indeed," he agrees instead, beckoning the boy over.
Lewis blinks as if he can't quite believe Severus is actually inviting him into the lab. Severus furrows his brows slightly. He knows he's strict about the boys staying out of his potions laboratory while he's working, but surely it shouldn't be such a shock that Severus is allowing him inside. Lewis has come in with his permission before… Hasn't he?
Severus tries to think of another time he invited Lewis in, but can't. He sighs. That would be his mistake, then. No wonder the boy looks like he's being tricked. Severus will have to change that; he doesn't want his son to grow up doubtful of his intentions or love. Perhaps a potions lesson or two every couple of weeks will remedy the situation. Yes, Severus decides, that's exactly what he shall do. It will also be good for Lewis now that he's getting older and Hogwarts isn't such a distant daydream anymore. He's likely to enjoy the lessons too. Lewis does so adore baking with his grandmother and the two activities are really not all that different in essence.
He gestures again for Lewis to come over. "It's alright, I promise."
Hesitantly, the boy walks over to his side. Once he's next to him, Severus pats his knee, inviting the boy to sit with him. Lewis scrambles up into his lap and settles in happily, all suspicion gone. Severus notes (as he always does) that Lewis is becoming heavier and soon he will begin to balk at invitations to sit on his knee. After a couple of minutes of pleasant silence where Lewis is too busy taking in the lab from his vantage point in Severus's lap to talk, he notices the picture of Harry's children.
"Who are they?" asks Lewis.
Severus picks up the picture and stares at it for a moment longer before tucking it away in his robe pocket. He'll need to remember to give it to Lily when he sees her for lunch tomorrow. She's going to cry when she sees it. She'd dithered for a while about joining him on his journey back to their original timeline before deciding she just couldn't out of fear Harry would be long dead there and little more than a memory. Or that she wouldn't want to come back once she saw him alive and well.
Now that's it over, he's just glad his and Harry's encounter didn't become a spectacle.
"Just a photo of some mates," he lies.
"The black-haired man looks like Uncle James."
He thins his lips. Severus doesn't think he'll ever quite get used to his sons thinking of James Potter as an uncle. "That he does," he allows.
Lewis squirms a little and looks up at Severus. "How come we've never met 'em?" Worry and sadness overcome his face. "Are they… dead?" he whispers.
"No, no," Severus assures. "These friends are just fine. They don't live here in England anymore, is all," he fibs, hoping that it will soothe Lewis before he can start crying. In the past year or so Lewis has become very aware of the missing people in their lives. How he's never met some of the people in old photos from before and during the war. He's not an overly sensitive child, but Severus thinks the fact Lewis's first father died during the war has made him acutely sympathetic to others who have also lost loved-ones during the war.
The boy sighs far too deeply for someone his size. "That's good."
Severus doesn't say anything more on it. This really isn't a topic he's ready to breach with his son. Instead, he asks Lewis how he likes the book Aunt Lily lent him last week. Lewis perks right up and begins to babble joyfully about how much he wants to ride a ship like the one in Treasure Island.
This is a bit more how Severus has changed than his life has changed. But I do think his interactions with his son go a long way to show how his life has changed. I know this is not really melancholic either, but then I think Severus would be more proud of what he's done and become than saddened by how things are.
Thank you for reading :)
