Disclaimer: I do not own anything related to the content and material of Harry Potter. I only hope to convey my writing skills as best I can to portray my love for the pairing of Draco and Ginny.
This story takes place in Harry's Sixth Year, with NO horcruxes involved, therefore the events from HBP and DH will not interfere with this plot. Some other original HP storyline details have been changed but those will be obvious when they are revealed.
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Chapter Twelve – The Real Test
Even though Severus had ruined his entire evening at the Halloween ball Harry had remained sequestered in his private bedroom in the dungeons with the Potions Master for the rest of the night. Not sure if Ginny, or anyone else for that matter, had seen his abrupt departure with the Professor, he dared not return to the Great Hall for fear that he would be questioned. Even the mighty Harry Potter was a coward sometimes.
The pair of them had argued the entire way through the castle, barely pausing to simultaneously shout the password at the portrait, and continued yelling over each other until they agreed to disagree and Severus promised they would talk about it the next day. Harry had flung the metal shield and ripped off the crimson cape as he paced through the small quarters, eventually ending up in his bedroom staring at his hands. He had tried to deny it, it was the easiest defense he still had, but everything about him said he was Severus Snape's son. Scrutinizing the length of his fingers and the narrowness of his palms confirmed that alone. And despite the rapid change of emotions he had recently felt towards the Potions Master, he had still gloated slightly at the momentarily hurt look on the man's face when he had accused him of lying to him and using him for a bigger purpose.
Harry had told Severus that he had figured out his plan to get close to the boy so he could deliver him to Voldemort when the time was right. Severus had paled at the declaration and rationally told Harry that he was simply worked up over Ginny, that he didn't really mean what he had just said to the man who was sheltering and nurturing him, and that they would finish the conversation when he was in the right frame of mind. Harry had scoffed at the Professor's words but hurried off anyways, knowing when he was given an out from a precise argument that could just as easily ruin any relationship they had built.
His glasses were straining his eyes and he tossed them across the bed as he rubbed his sore brow and exhaled heavily. This blasted costume was beginning to chafe around his neck where the breastplate was rubbing and he momentarily fumbled with the straps before the chest piece loosened and he shimmied his arms and head through the appropriate holes to pull it off of his torso. Harry was emotionally and mentally drained and all at once he realized the ball of dreading nerves in stomach was anticipation for his talk with his father the next morning. Surely he would be scolded for his behavior - but he knew Severus didn't particularly like the Weasleys and would intervene whenever possible if he saw fit. The dark haired teenager laid backwards across his bed, one hand lying atop his bare torso until the skirt too became uncomfortable and he lifted his hips off the mattress to shimmy the last piece of his costume down his legs. Left in a faded pair of navy boxers, Harry scooted around and found a soft spot on the bed, both hands now resting on his chest as he let his thoughts idle away and his emerald eyes slowly shut.
An hour or two later Severus was turning in for the night when he noticed a faint light coming from Harry's room across the hall. It was undoubtedly late and he was sure the boy had gone to sleep much earlier. Grasping the handle and turning the knob silently, he slid his shoulder between the opening as his ebony head peered around the wooden frame. Harry was soundly asleep, lying mostly on his stomach with his legs fanned out widely his face was visible from where Severus stood and a fond smile inconspicuously turned up the corners of his thin lips as he watched the boy for a minute.
Harry groaned in his dreams and twisted around suddenly, his dark eyebrows knitted in confusion even in slumber and Severus saw his hands clench involuntarily as he wrestled with his subconscious. Noticing a slight shiver in his movements, he assumed his parental duties and slipped into the bedroom to easily pull the bedding down and fluff the pillows before he gently coaxed Harry under the covers as he sleepily complied. His glasses had come off at some point as he lay and Severus deposited the frames on the nightstand before he twisted the knob under the nightshade and extinguished the light in the room. Noiselessly he exited the room and closed the door silently, taking three short steps to open his own bedroom door as the torches along the short hallway dimmed. Severus was as strained from the evenings events as his son appeared to be and the Potions Master was admittedly glad that he had cut short their nasty argument when he did.
Some things did not need to be said but what Harry had lashed out with had gotten him thinking. They really had no veritable proof that they were in fact father and son except for Lily's words. Severus had grabbed several books on biological tests, such as DNA, and he had found a simple enough potion, when mixed with a sample of hair from each party, that would tell them just that. While Harry had been sulking in his room he had slipped out to his store room and gathered the necessary ingredients for the brew, spreading everything out on his kitchen counter in neat lines before preparing a cauldron. The mixing had taken a short enough time period but the potion had to sit for eight hours so all he could do now was wait, and sleep. Soon enough the biggest question hovering over their relationship would be answered and they could finally move on to the more pressing matters at hand.
Harry woke the next morning with a wide yawn. He absently reached for his glasses and slowly sat up as his legs swung off the edge of his bed. There was an entire wardrobe for him now in the dresser and he grabbed for whatever he saw first and dressed quickly as his stomach growled with hunger. After going to the bathroom and adorning his feet with a newer pair of trainers, Harry pocketed his wand and opened the door as a wave of heady aromas hit his nostrils. Severus had cooked breakfast apparently and he followed his nose to the kitchen with a drowsy grin and paused in the doorway when he saw the feast laid out on the counters.
An assortment of pastries and muffins led into bowls of eggs, bacon, and sausage next to plates of pancakes, waffles, and biscuits beside bowls of gravy and syrup. The Professor was sitting at the circular table with a plate containing a little of everything, a newspaper opened before him as he sat wearing an entirely black ensemble of trousers, a button down shirt, and a simple vest. His sleeves were rolled to his arms and Harry was momentarily shocked to see two bare forearms as Severus' eyebrow ticked and he parted his thin lips.
"I look the same as I did last night, boy. Get yourself a plate and sit down. I'm sure you're famished," Severus said without looking up and Harry blushed, rushing a "Yes sir" as his feet picked up and he hurried to find utensils as well. Their plates were nearly identical and Harry suppressed a small grin at the similarities in their habits and personalities as he draped a napkin across his lap and began eating.
At some point Severus had lowered the top of his reading material and had begun to watch Harry. He did not notice until he reached for the salt shaker and realized the newspaper was folded neatly on an edge of the table that the wizard across from him had his hands layered precisely along the space next to his own half-eaten plate.
"I trust you slept well," Severus stated neutrally. "I noticed your lights were on and saw you strewn about your bed," he said with a faint chuckle and Harry dipped his head at the thought of the Professor seeing him in just his underwear.
"Yes sir," Harry responded dutifully, his shoulders hunched and tense as he waited for the berating to start again. He had slept like a rock but his slumber had not been fitful as he dreamed of gory nightmares. The boy did not think he had it in him to argue so soon after waking so he kept his gaze down and hoped Severus would let it pass.
"I want to apologize," the elder wizard started instead, earning Harry's attention as he looked up curiously - when had the Potions Master apologized to anyone, ever? "I regret speaking to you so harshly last night and for ruining your evening at the dance. It is my business though who you surround yourself with and I do not trust the youngest Weasley for good reason."
"And why is that?" Harry butted in with a scathing tone and pointed gaze.
He was trying to provoke him and damn it if Severus wasn't feeling a stirring of incredulous anger at the boy's blatant disrespect. "Miss Weasley - she - she's not right for you," he stuttered in a short jumble of his own explanation but inhaled and exhaled deeply before narrowing his brown eyes and clenching his jaw. It had been quite a while since anyone had rattled Severus so easily. "I have my reasons. They are my opinions alone and the choice is ultimately up to you. I am merely trying to aide your success but far be it for you to listen to what I have to say."
Severus' slow, crawling drawl gave Harry the sense of shame that he was aiming for and the boy felt bad for responding to his apology with insolence, his dark head falling against his chest as he idly moved the remaining food around his plate. Always the stubborn child though, he logically circled back to the gist of the apology and gritted his teeth when he thought about someone telling him what not to do - especially with his heart. Love was free to give and he would choose who he let in and who received a piece of his soul.
"Why should I listen to you?" Harry jibed his words acidic and his emerald eyes hard as he tossed another of Severus' mistakes in his face. "You mucked it up with my mum - and look where that got us. You don't know any better when it comes to love than I do."
"I have experience in life -"
"Yea - experience in ruining lives."
"I have experience in life where you have none," Severus bellowed to get his point across, his fury now spiking as his son merely raised an eyebrow in disinterest. "I am your father and you will listen to my opinions without further question."
"And who's to say you are my father - huh? Some letters?" Harry quipped, his arrogant anger rolling off of him in waves as Severus matched his distemperment. "Maybe this is all some sick joke you're playing - let's see how long the idiot will fall for the lost parent routine."
Suddenly shaking with his own stupidity for believing something so impossible to be true, Harry pushed back from the table and turned to hastily exit the kitchen. Right now all he wanted to do was get out of the dungeons and away from Snape. Severus was quick to jump up as well and he had his spidery fingers wrapped around Harry's wrist before the boy could take two steps away from the table. Harry was jerked from the pull on his arm and he blanked his face to control his emotions as he faced Severus.
"I was going to give you the option of choosing but now I will not," he growled and turned to pace to the opposite side of the long kitchen, pulling Harry behind him until they stopped in front of a wide counter. A hodge podge of empty and half full vials were scattered across the surface, a lofty book laid open with various dry ingredients littering the page.
"What is this?" Harry asked before he realized his lips had parted. He craned his neck to peer closer at the title on the top of the page in the book but Severus cleared his throat and garnered his focus.
"This is a potion I found. It will evaluate two person's genetics to ascertain if they are related."
There was a pregnant pause wherein Harry seemed to breathe shallower as his gaze jumped across the table's contents. A nugget of nerves developed in his stomach for the actual truth of the matter to be revealed but he fought the uneasiness with curious disbelief.
"Why haven't you looked for this before? Why now?"
"I had faith in Lily," Severus stated baldly and Harry felt a pang of guilt for the loss of the woman they both loved. "Had I known that you did not, I would have found this potion sooner to prove her right. I trust her implicitly, Potter." The last name came off sounding with a sneer but it was automatic as Harry knitted his dark eyebrows in contempt.
"So we have to brew it now?" He asked, bypassing the touchy subject as his anger dissipated into a piqued curiosity.
"Of course not," Severus retorted and spun away to approach a lonesome cauldron on an opposite counter where he held a small glass atop the simmering mouth and ladled a milky liquid into the cup. "I decided to wait until you were here to bear witness to the results so you would not be able to contest them in the future."
Severus came to stand before Harry and he was momentarily proud of their near equal height and the fact that he had been there to see his son grow into his remaining stature. This was an opportunity that they had almost missed - changing each other for a family and love. He held the glass between them and the younger wizard glanced into the still liquid as Severus spoke again.
"It requires a strand of each of our hair," he evenly stated. "If the results are positive and we are related, the potion will turn a shimmery gold. If they are negative - we will see a dark, murky blue."
Harry looked hesitant, the potion was odorless but the strange liquid and explanation did not appease the jumping nerves in the pit of his stomach and he twisted his dark head to glance at the words on the pages before he skeptically stared again at the brew in his hand then at the Potions Master. He knew he trusted Severus, more than he had previously but less than he should as the man's son, yet he again read over the potion's recipe and his lips turned down in a frown when he realized the steps told him the exact outcome as to how the draft looked now. It was near perfect and he knew he could not doubt the accuracy of the brew.
For a show of good faith, Severus reached up and plucked a single, long ebony strand from his own head and dropped it through the narrow mouth of the glass vial. The potion smoked for a split second but the hair disappeared in the liquid and remained a milky white. Harry sucked in a breath of anticipation - he was finally going to know the real truth - and his right hand clenched against his side, fidgeting as he felt the wizard's impatient gaze on him. Very slowly the Boy Who Lived grasped a hair from his messy mop and tugged. He ignored the momentarily, shocking pull against his scalp and held the medium length strand in front of him. His emerald eyes met brown orbs and Severus slightly nodded in affirmation as Harry released his hold and dropped the hair into the vial as well.
The liquid bubbled for a minute. Both were watching with anxious eyes as the potion smoked larger than the container it was in and engulfed Severus' hand to block their gazes.
A minute passed.
And another.
Then the smoke cleared.
Harry exhaled slowly, the noise a steady sound as an arrogant smirk curled the corners of Severus' thin lips. The potion was a bright and clear gold with obvious flecks that caught the flickering lights as he held up the vial and stared at the contents.
"Now can we put this all behind us, Harry?" He asked, placing the glass vial in an empty rack on the counter as his hand grasped for a cork.
The bespectacled boy nodded once and he was shocked from the truth, the outcome he had secretly wanted, so much so that a giant welling of emotion was building in his chest. Severus turned away to organize the mess on the table top and Harry glanced up to watch his movements. And all at once the bubble burst as a joyous grin held up the outline of his mouth and Harry felt tears sting his emerald eyes, his glasses already fogging slightly around the edges as he blinked away the rapidly forming liquid. A relieved laugh escaped his parted lips and Harry's chest rumbled with the sound as Severus paused his motions and looked over his shoulder at the boy. One black eyebrow rose alerting him that he too was being watched and Harry quieted his laughter with a rough clearing of his throat.
"I'm sorry, sir," he started but chuckled once more when he realized Severus looked amused instead of bored with his ramblings and outbursts. "I just - I can't believe it's true."
"The results are right here," the Potions Master pointed to the vial of golden liquid but Harry shook his head as if to apologize for the Professor's aggressive tone.
"No - I meant -" he suddenly stopped to compose himself and his green gaze was steady when he continued. "I meant I can't believe it's true because - it's all I've ever wanted. Back in my First year, I found the Mirror of Erised in a locked room. And when I looked into that enchanted mirror, I saw my parents - together, with me." Harry dropped his eyes but Severus listened to every sound as he silently cherished the private memory he was sharing. "My dad - well James was there but I don't know, something felt wrong about him - like he didn't quite approve of me, even in my own imagination." He took a deep breath and looked up hastily, blinking several times as he held Severus' regarding gaze. "And now I know why. My father is still alive. I can't believe it's true because good things don't normally happen to me. I'm the one who always has to trudge through the tragedy, alone, while everyone else is off not worrying about the fall of Voldemort. I'm just happy is all," he finished lamely but started laughing again and it was only moments before his guffaws became sobs of happiness as he let the tears run down his cheeks.
On instinct Severus dropped whatever was in his hands and turned to open his arms around the boy as Harry pressed his face into the collar of his robe and embraced the solid hug. "It's going to be alright now, son," he soothed as one hand slowly rubbed up and down his back. "You're not alone anymore." He felt Harry nod against his neck and held the boy longer as he too let a tear well up for the inner happiness he had found in knowing he was a father.
In other parts of the castle Ginny was steadily making her way to the Great Hall for breakfast. Since it was a Sunday and the day after a big party, she hoped a majority of the students would opt to skip the morning meal for sleep. She herself was quite tired but mainly because she had spent her night tossing and turning in bed as slumber drifted on the edges of her consciousness.
It had quickly become apparent as soon as she entered the common room that no one had seen Harry since the middle of the Halloween dance. What few Gryffindors were still awake thought he would be with Ginny but the redheaded witch was alone when she stumbled through the portrait. Of course Ron and Hermione had jumped up from the couches when she entered. Her brother had immediately battered her with questions as to where she had been and oddly enough Hermione stood quietly by his side, a silk robe covering her Halloween costume as she assessed the Weasley. Ginny had adjusted her clothing and cast a Scorgify where needed before coming into the tower and she prayed it would be enough to pass the scrutinies of her Housemates.
Ron did not notice the pink hickies on her neck that were appearing, nor did he pick up the fact that her hands her shaking slightly and her shoulders were tensed. But Hermione did. Ginny told them that she had been out on the grounds with Luna and Romilda and that she had not seen Harry in a while. Ron thought it was strange but discontinued his argument when his sister glared fiercely at him after a comment about her disregarding her boyfriend. So why then did she have love bites and obvious bruising on her arms when she had not been with Harry, Hermione wondered, her muddy brown gaze narrowing over the redheaded witch as Ginny scurried out of the room and lumbered up the stairs to her dormitory.
The dreams, or more often nightmares, that plagued her semi unconsciousness all revolved around Draco. In some he would slowly peel off her clothing, kissing her in places that made her scream, and in others his actions from the night before were aggressively multiplied to the point where he savagely took her while killing her at the same time. Each time she woke up sweating and out of breath and soon the minutes on the clock progressed slower as her scant dreams came faster and more detailed. By the time the sun came up Ginny was eager to get out of bed as images of Draco, his face contorted in blissful pleasure and twisted in agonizing, hate filled depravity, clouded her mind. She saw his hands choking the life out of her as he fucked his cock repeatedly inside her and then she almost felt the feather light caresses of his fingers down her sides and along her thighs. He was a dual edged sword and the complete opposites of his personality intrigued, frightened, and most disturbingly, aroused her as Ginny hurried to get dressed for a quick, and probably painful, run, or jog, around the Quidditch pitch before breakfast.
Maybe some exercise and good old fashioned, heart pounding running would be able to take her mind, and her heart, off of Draco and help ease the stiffness in her joints from her healing injuries that still ached with distant pain. But her thoughts only seemed to increase tenfold as quiet solidarity surrounded her as her heady pace looped around the wide pitch. Ginny kept hearing his silky voice and picturing the liquid silver of his eyes. Her frustrations mounted as she picked up her speed and she kept running until her legs went numb and she nearly sprawled across the dewy grass, her flushed cheek pressed into the green blades as she controlled her breathing and rolled onto her back. The slight soreness from Draco's lack of restraint had dulled to receive the aching pain of overworked muscles but Ginny could only steady her inhalations as her chocolate eyes watched the whispy clouds careen across the blue sky.
As she had imagined, a majority of the House tables in the Great Hall were empty as the jumble of low chatter ebbed and flowed through the long room. It was still early for the morning meal but Ginny disregarded the random stares from passing students as a bead of sweat rolled down her spine and she trotted to an empty space on one of the Gryffindor benches. The tight spandex shorts and fitted shirt left little to the imagination concerning the redhead's curvy figure but Ginny forgot her effect on wizards as she held her stiff posture and reached for a plate to fill with various foods.
A few Second years were sitting on the opposite side of the table about five feet in front of Ginny and she fought to ignore the twittering girls as they whispered and not so discreetly pointed at her. With her flowing mane pulled back in a ponytail, the smattering of love bites on her neck were clearly visible but she had not thought to check for markings before she left her dorm and Ginny could only purse her plump lips and focus on the spread before her while various other students glanced her way and began gossiping. Sunday was supposed to be a day of rest but she did not see how that was possible at Hogwarts when everyone was so involved with everyone else's business.
The hour passed and Ginny was still sitting at her table in the Great Hall, mindful of the massive amounts of food she was consuming but not caring that she was now earning stares for her plentiful meal instead of her appearance. The post was not delivered on Sunday so when a plain, school owl swooped in through an open window and circled the room, many students looked up with curiosity as the bird sought out its recipient. When it landed soundly next to Ginny, many witches and wizards turned their gazes as the youngest Weasley looked up in confusion and tilted her head to stare at the inconspicuous owl.
There was a single, short stem red rose clutched between its claws and the small chestnut owl hopped forward once its large black eyes caught Ginny watching him. "Hooooot," the little bird cawed rather loudly in the suddenly quiet Hall and to avoid the prying questions and questioning looks she hastily reached for the flower in the owl's grasp. Without thinking she tore off a small chunk of bacon and fed it to the bird while she slid the rose from between its talons.
The thick beating of its wings echoed in the large room and when she should have been paying attention, she watched the owl fly out of the Hall and nicked her finger on a protruding thorn. A bubble of blood formed on the end of her index finger and Ginny sucked the digit into her mouth as she twirled the rose delicately. Seemingly perfect, she stared at the full petals and the lush crimson of the flower and her auburn brows knitted together as a burst of anxious nerves gripped her chest.
Hung on a thin string below the rigid leaves was a small piece of parchment. Glancing both ways to make sure no one was directly watching her, Ginny held the rose delicately and turned the paper around to read the unfamiliar scrawl on the front.
I'm sorry.
There was no signature - just those two overplayed words. The handwriting was neither Harry nor Draco's and to make sure, Ginny twisted around in her seat to scan the entire Great Hall, slightly disappointed when she saw neither boy anywhere in the room. So who had sent her the rose? Both wizards had one thing or another to apologize to her for but since both were absent from the room, she questioned if the flower was even from either of them. Surely Draco would be present, at least somewhere, to see her receive a gift he sent her and Harry was one to want to be there to accept her gratitude, even if he blushed the entire time. So where were they?
Intrigued by the mysterious gift, Ginny held the soft petals against her nose and inhaled the lovely scent. Someone was aiming to fall into her good graces and she had to admit this was a good first step but forgiveness, for any and everything, did not come easily from the youngest Weasley and she was now determined to set right what she had done wrong in the first place.
Whether Harry was apologizing for leaving her at the dance or if Draco was appealing to her womanly wiles for his own forgiveness, Ginny had to set them straight now. She had had her cake and eaten it too the night before, during and after the Halloween ball, but the resounding guilt from lying to someone she cared about convinced her to make a decision between the two wizards. Harry was seemingly perfect but he was still lying to her, albeit in a hidden manner, and Draco - well Draco had ignited a fire inside his seemingly mortal enemy that she wanted quenched but secretly she needed it to be fueled to appease her baser instincts.
The heart should only love one person at a time. But for Ginny, that didn't mean that it necessarily would listen and obey.