A/N: This story is a sequel to my story Just Like His Father. If you haven't read that, you will probably be confused. Please go read that FIRST, then come back here for more!
Chapter 1- Harry
The Burrow was, as always, a hive of activity. Being the home of nine Weasleys made the place inherently busy, but, unusually, nearly all of the Weasleys were actually at home. In addition to the eight Weasleys in residence, there were also four Delacours and one Hermione Granger calling the place "home" for the summer. It was fair to say that things had gotten a little chaotic.
That's why, on a hot day in July, Harry Potter was seeking temporary escape under a large shade tree near the edge of the property. With Bill and Fleur's wedding mere days away, it had been all hands on deck. He'd been eager to help, but with his seventeenth birthday still on the horizon, there hadn't actually been much he'd been able to do. So, today, while everyone else was working on color changing charms for all the chairs and neatly levitating them into rows or casting everlasting charms on flowers and arranging them into bouquets, Harry had taken the opportunity to slide away for a few minutes with the only other person at the house who was nearly as useless as he was.
Ginny smiled at him from her position in front of him. At least, he assumed she was smiling. He could hear it in her voice, even if he couldn't see her face. He was busy deconstructing the elaborate updo Fleur had arranged his girlfriend's hair into that morning. Ginny had tried to take it down herself, but it was tied up too tightly on the back of her head and she'd begged Harry to have mercy on her and help her take it down.
"So, anyway, right about the time Mum was really getting going, there's this puff of smoke and suddenly there's a chicken sitting where Charlie was, and he's nowhere to be seen. Mum absolutely lost it. Fred and George took off and I swear I've never seen Mum move so fast. And the Delacours were just sitting there looking so…French. It was hilarious. I wish you'd been here to see it."
"Were they testing a new product or something? Surely Charlie knew better than to eat anything they'd given him."
"Oh, Charlie didn't eat anything. Not that George hadn't tried to slip him something about three separate times, but Charlie works with dragons, so he notices things like that and he's not stupid. But George thought he'd gotten Charlie, but they don't have any products that turn you into an actual chicken, so he was completely confused. Thought something had gone wrong during testing. He and Fred were trying to figure it out all night."
"What happened to him, then?"
"Oh, nothing. I bribed him to put a switching charm on the cushion of his own chair. He traded places with a chicken, then walked out of the coop, grabbed his old broom out of the shed and flew around the back garden for a couple hours. Got him out of work, got the twins in trouble, and provided the best dinner entertainment I've had in months. The absolute best part, though, was when Mum took the chicken up to Charlie's room and tucked it into bed, cooing about how it would be all right and she was sure he'd feel 'right as rain soon enough.' I can't tell you how relieved she was when he came downstairs later looking like himself."
Harry shared a laugh with Ginny as he gently ran his fingers through her newly-freed hair. She sighed and leaned into his hands.
"I swear, if Fleur tries one more fancy updo, I'm going to show up the morning of the wedding completely bald."
Harry gave her hair a gentle tug.
"Whoa, let's not be too hasty. I rather like your hair."
"Well, of course you do. Who doesn't? It's fantastic. But those hair charms really hurt."
"I'll have words with Fleur. I'm sure we can reach a compromise. Everybody listens to the Chosen One. In the meantime, I'll just keep my hands in it, so you can't do anything extreme."
"Hmmm. You'll get no complaints from me," she replied, as she adjusted herself to lean closer against Harry. He kept one of his hands in her hair, and wrapped the other around her waist as he pulled her in for a kiss. Ginny angled her body across his and brought her hand up to his face. He felt her hands on his glasses, and they separated briefly while she gently removed them and placed them out of reach. She pushed her fingers up through his hair and he let out a small sound of contentment.
A puff of air escaped Harry as Ginny once again changed her position, this time sitting across his extended legs as they continued to share languid kisses. He dropped his hand from her hair and settled it on her thigh, silently praising whoever invented shorts for the softness of the skin he felt under his hand. Ginny's body pressed him back against the trunk of the large tree as their kisses grew bolder. Harry's fingers at her waist found the hem of her shirt and pressed underneath while he began running his other hand up and down the smooth length of her exposed leg.
Harry sighed into her as he felt her tug on the side of his shirt before sliding her own hand across the skin of his back. His sigh became a moan when she curled her fingernails in and dragged them back across. He tightened his grip on her and she arched into his touch. The little sigh that passed her lips egging him on. He kissed her harder and faster, sliding his tongue into her open mouth. She responded in kind, now raking her nails across his scalp as his hand slid further up her thigh, his fingers teasing the bottom hem of her shorts and his opposite hand pulling her shirt halfway up her back as he reached higher.
He could have stayed like this for hours, days even, kissing his girlfriend for all he was worth in the quiet shade of a summer afternoon, but life had other plans.
"Is it not enough that I must be surrounded by hormonal teenagers for ten months out of the year, but now I must also deal with them over the summer, as well?" a deep voice drawled.
Harry's hands stilled and his eyes popped open as his blood suddenly ran very cold. Ginny pulled away from him with a squeal of surprise, reaching to tug the hem of her shirt down into its proper place. He quickly pulled his hands away from her and reached blindly for his glasses. As he pressed them onto his face, his father's dour expression swam into focus.
"Er, hi, Dad," he greeted sheepishly.
"Afternoon, Sir," Ginny added as she brushed the grass off her legs and stood up, reaching a hand down towards Harry. He waved her hand away as he stood, but she slid her fingers into his anyway.
"Yes, good afternoon, Miss Weasley. As…cozy as this appeared to be, your mother is looking for you."
"What else is new?" she said with a roll of her eyes. She gave Harry's hand a squeeze and boldly planted a kiss on his cheek. "Come see me before you leave, yeah?" she asked him. He nodded and then she dashed off towards the house, leaving Harry alone with his father.
He dropped back to the ground with a groan.
"That was so embarrassing. You should have made a noise or something."
"I did. Twice."
Harry groaned louder and covered his face with his wasn't the only snog his father had interrupted this summer, but it was certainly the best one.
"Do you have, like, a monitoring charm on me, or something, or is your timing really just that bad?"
"My timing is impeccable as always. You should be thanking me."
Harry pulled his hands away from his face and looked at his father in open curiosity. "Why on Earth would I thank you for this?"
"It was very nearly Molly who discovered you. I rather think that would have been worse."
Harry shivered in the sudden chill.
"On second thought, thank you."
"I'd say it's my pleasure, but it really isn't."
"Fair enough."
Harry reached up and clasped his dad's extended hand, using it to pull himself off the ground once again. He brushed himself off and the two began walking back towards the house.
"What are you doing here, anyway? I thought you were working on your new dissolving potion today."
"I was. I still am, in fact. It needs to simmer for a few hours. But I needed to discuss some things with Bill and Arthur anyway."
"Have you reached an agreement about the wards? Am I going to be allowed to come to the wedding?" Harry asked enthusiastically.
"That is what we will soon determine. Bill said that he has some updates and would like to run through them with me."
The situation with the Weasley's wards had been a topic of much tension lately. Harry hadn't really thought much about it before, but with the Burrow being unplottable, it made it a bit difficult to host a wedding. So, in a few short days, the Burrow was going to briefly appear on a number of maps. This would allow the invited guests to use the provided coordinates to locate the Burrow and apparate onto the property to attend the wedding. It did, however, create a bit of a security gap that Harry's dad found unacceptable. In response, he'd blatantly refused to allow Harry to attend the ceremony until certain steps were taken.
This is how, a mere week after returning home from school, father and son had had their first major row. It had been pretty explosive. Neither one was known for having an easy temper, nor for backing down from an argument, but after a couple frosty days of silence, Severus had agreed to attempt a compromise with the Weasleys and had begun meeting with Bill and Arthur about the wards on the property. For his part, Harry had agreed to abide by the decision, provided he was allowed to spend as much time at the Burrow as he wanted prior to the wedding. Thus ended the hostilities at the Snape/Potter home. But Harry knew his dad had very high expectations for the wards and wouldn't back down when it came to his safety, and was privately very concerned that there wasn't going to be any suitable compromise to be reached. And, having never been to a wizarding wedding, or, actually any wedding, he was very eager to attend.
Not to mention he really wanted to see Ginny in her dress.
"Well, keep me posted, I guess. I wish you'd let me come with you."
"I assure you, Harry, it is quite dull. You are not missing anything exciting. You'd be better served by spending time with your friends. See, he's looking for you," his dad gestured towards the house where Ron was indeed waving enthusiastically at him.
"Oi! Where'd you run off to?" Ron called as they approached. He gave Harry a scrutinizing look. "And, hang on, did I just see Ginny come back from that way, too?"
"Oh, leave him alone, Ronnikins!" one of the twins called, walking past and smacking Ron on the back of the head. "You're just mad because your girlfriend wouldn't sneak off with you!"
"'No, Ron, we have to finish these chairs first like your Mum asked!'" the other twin tutted in an imitation of Hermione.
"'But dearest,'" the first twin, Harry thought it might be Fred, continued in a whiny voice, "'I just want to kiss you! You're so beautiful! Come here!'" He reached out for his younger brother, but Ron sidestepped him.
"Hey! That's not–what are you doing? No! Stop it!"
Harry waved his dad into the house as Fred, and now also George, continued to pursue Ron around the garden, making kissing noises as Ron flapped his arms to keep them at bay.
"What are they doing to him now?" Hermione sighed as she came out the door to stand next to Harry. "Ugh. Nevermind. I've got the gist of it. Let's just go rescue him, shall we?"
With that, she marched out into the fray, grabbed Ron's hand, and pulled him away, beckoning Harry to follow. The trio walked down a well-worn path and settled in their usual place against a low stone wall marking the boundary of an old field. Hermione conjured a blanket and spread it out for the three of them to sit on. Ron immediately threw himself down onto it and flung his arms out to the sides, taking up nearly all the space. Hermione just rolled her eyes as she wordlessly expanded it before sitting down herself.
"I swear, Fred and George get more annoying by the minute," Ron complained. "I still don't know why they're even here. They have their own flat."
"I think it has to do with Percy not being here," Hermione reminded him patiently.
"I know, it's just annoying. And why have they chosen me to pick on? Why not Ginny?"
Harry chortled. "Are you seriously asking that question? Because, I have to tell you, mate, I'm not too scared of you, but I'm definitely afraid of Gin."
"Oi! I can be scary!"
"Of course you can, dear," Hermione placated, patting his head where it lay next to her leg on the blanket. Ron huffed, but said no more about it as Hermione gently began running her fingers through his hair. "Any news about the wedding? Are you going to be able to come?" Hermione asked Harry.
"Supposed to find out later today. That's what they're talking about now."
"You'd better be there, Harry. I can't sit through the whole thing with only Fred and George as company."
"And what am I, then?" Hermione asked, eyebrow raised.
"Wonderful, but not a bloke. And weddings are different for blokes."
"Says who?"
"Erm, everyone? I don't know, Hermione. Don't look at me like that. I've already promised to dance with you. Can't I also want my best mate around to talk to?"
"I'm going to try to be there," Harry asserted, interrupting them before they had a chance to get started. "But I promised my dad I'd stick with his decision, so it's up to him, really."
"Technically, you'll be of age and can do whatever you want," Ron pointed out.
"Yes, but that's hardly the way for Harry to build his relationship with his father," Hermione rebutted.
"Yeah, that's what I figured," Harry agreed. "Having an actual parent is sort of a new thing for me, and I'm trying my best not to screw it up. Fact is, everyone in this house is of age except for Ginny. Your brothers could all be out living in their own places, instead of crowding into one house, but every one of them is still here because your mum asked them to be."
"Well, not every one," Hermione clarified.
"Percy's a git, Hermione. We already knew that," Ron waved away her comment. "But I see what you're saying, Harry. I get it. It's just weird to have to check and see what you're doing. You're usually just here. Well, after we pick you up from those foul muggles, anyway."
"That's one part of all this I have not missed. If I never have to see the Dursleys again, it'll be too soon."
"Surely you at least want a chance to say goodbye. Tell them about your dad," Hermione questioned.
"Nope," Harry said, leaning his head back against the wall.
For a moment, nothing else was said between them, they just sat comfortably in each others' presence. It was nice to simply be together. There hadn't been as many opportunities for these moments lately, with Harry not living in the house with them like he usually did. And even during the school year, the time that used to be just theirs was now split between the three of them, Ginny, and his dad. Moments like these were fewer, but it made them even more special.
"So, I know we said we'd leave the Horcrux stuff to your dad, but I have been doing a bit of reading, and I've found something interesting," Hermione said, after a while.
Harry pulled his head off the wall and looked at her.
"Yeah? What have you found?"
"Well, you know how we were thinking that there are Horcruxes for each of the houses? I don't think that works. If that's true, then there would be more than seven. We already know that the book, ring, and locket are Horcruxes, plus the snake. If there are four more Horcruxes for each house, that would make eight, plus the piece inside him."
"So, what does that mean, then?"
"For starters, I don't think there's one for Gryffindor. I've done all sorts of research, and the only item he's famous for is his sword, which nobody had seen for hundreds of years until you pulled it out of the sorting hat in the Chamber of Secrets. So, I don't think Voldemort would have been able to make it horcrux. The only thing anyone mentions of Ravenclaw is her diadem, but it's lost, too, though at least one historian believes it to have been stolen from a muggle collection sometime in the sixties. That very well could have been Voldemort's doing, so Ravenclaw is still an option."
"But even taking out Gryffindor, we still have too many," she continued. "Which got me thinking that maybe we've already got one of Slytherin's items. Here, look at this," Hermione reached into a small beaded bag she was wearing, plunging her arm far deeper than the small bag allowed.
"Undetectable extension charm," she muttered upon seeing Harry's raised eyebrows. In short order, she pulled out a book and started flipping pages. She turned the book around to Harry and pointed at an illustration of a large, gaudy locket with a stylized letter S and a gleaming emerald on the front.
"Does this look like the locket you found with Professor Dumbledore?" she asked him.
"No. The one we found was smaller and didn't have a big emerald on the front," he replied.
Hermione sighed. "That's what I was worried about. This one," she pointed at the book, "is the one he would have used. It's famous for belonging to Slytherin. He is wearing it in every portrait. But, here's the thing: I've seen it before."
"What?!" Ron exclaimed, sitting up. "Where?"
"At Grimmauld Place. Ginny, Tonks, and I were cleaning in one of the spare rooms one day when we found this necklace. It was with a bunch of other really gaudy jewelry, and I probably would have never even remembered it, but then Kreacher came in and nearly attacked us trying to get it. He ran off with it and put it with all that other stuff your mum was always trying to get him to throw out."
"You're sure it was this one?" Harry asked.
"Positive."
"But why would he use two necklaces?"
"Maybe he just likes necklaces. Maybe that's been his secret all along," Ron replied, "his love of hideous jewelry."
"I don't think he would," Hermione said, ignoring Ron. "It just doesn't make sense to me. Have you looked at the horcrux since you gave it to Professor Snape?"
"No. Not really. He's got it suspended in some sort of potion that he says suppresses all magical energy, and then he's got that in a cabinet that's so heavily warded you can hear it vibrating with all the spells he's put on it. He was worried about Voldemort being able to use it to locate us or noticing when we destroy it, so he hasn't done anything with it yet. There's also the fact that the two we have destroyed have definitely tried to kill us first."
"Well, I really think it's worth looking into, this locket thing. There's something off about it, I just don't know what it is."
"Yeah, I'll mention it to my dad. I've learned not to ignore you about this stuff. You're usually right."
"Thanks."
"So what's with the bag?" Harry said as he watched Hermione put the book away.
"Before the funeral, when I thought we would be doing this all ourselves, I thought it might be wise to pack all our things and have them ready, just in case we had to leave somewhere and didn't have time to stop and grab our bags, and I'd just read about an undetectable extension charm and thought it could be useful. So I charmed this bag and started filling it with anything I thought we might need. It's actually really handy. I don't know why everyone doesn't use one."
"Because you're brilliant and the rest of us aren't. Undetectable extension charms are a bloody nightmare to get right," Ron said. "Dad worked on that old car we had for ages trying to get the extension charms working without messing up the shape of the car. He accidentally shrunk the entire paddock once, by mistake. How mum never noticed I have no idea."
Ron's stomach chose that moment to make an unholy, but not unfamiliar, noise.
"Sweet Merlin, I'm starving!" the redhead complained, rubbing his offending organ. "D'you reckon it's safe to go back to the house yet? I've got to find something to eat."
Hermione reached into her bag and pulled out a packet of crisps, tossing them over to Ron. He caught them with undisguised glee.
"Cheers, 'Mione! Have I told you lately how brilliant you are?" He reached up and planted a kiss on her cheek before opening up his snack and tucking in with his usual enthusiasm. Hermione blushed and ducked her head.
"Do you need anything, Harry?"
"No, but thanks for offering. I actually should probably get back up to the house. Dad will be wanting to head home soon to check his potion, and I told Ginny I'd say goodbye before we go. I'll leave you two to it."
"Will you be around tomorrow?" Hermione asked.
Harry shrugged. "Probably. I'll send Hedwig if something comes up."
"All right. See you."
"See you."
Ron waved as Harry walked back towards the house.
Some time later, after Harry and his dad had returned home, Harry lay on his back, sprawled across his bed, thinking about his day. He heard footsteps coming up the stairs, then heard the rustle of robes as his dad leaned against his doorway.
"How's the potion?" Harry asked.
"Weaker than expected. I believe the hawthorne root may need to be grated and pressed next time, rather than minced. I will check it again in the morning and see if it has improved. How was your time with the Weasleys?"
"It would be better if I could be more useful, but without being able to use my wand I'm sort of just in the way."
"Miss Weasley doesn't seem to be complaining about your presence."
Harry turned to look at his father in the doorway. He wore a serious look on his face. Harry's stomach squirmed.
"Are we really going to talk about this?" he asked.
"Regrettably, I think we rather must."
Harry flung an arm over his face and groaned.
"For the love of Merlin, please, can we not? This is really one of those fatherly duties that I'll gladly let you skip."
"I assure you, I would, but there are a few things that need to be said. And it would be better if I simply said them. So, can we please cease the dramatics for a moment and have a mature discussion about this?"
Harry raised his arm slightly and glared at the man in his doorway. Harry had suspected this was coming. Ron had been complaining just the other day that his dad had sat him down for "the talk," now that he's of age. And with all the time their dads had been spending together lately, in addition to the number of times his dad had caught him with Ginny, he really shouldn't have been surprised. Still, with their familial relationship less than a year old, and with a substantial degree of awkwardness still between them as they navigated living under the same roof for the first time, Harry thought he might get away without it.
Clearly he was mistaken.
"Fine," he groused, lowering his arm and sitting up on his bed. His dad came into the room and sat in the chair, moving aside the latest issue of Quidditch Monthly to do so.
"In the interest of both our sanity, I'm going to keep this as brief as possible, but in order to do that, I will need you to answer questions when I ask. Agreed?"
"If I must."
"You must."
"Then fine."
"I assume you are aware of what can happen between young men and women of your age."
"Yes."
"Do you require any additional information?"
"Absolutely not."
"Are you aware that there are certain charms and potions that can be useful in the prevention of unwanted…consequences."
"Yes."
"Are you in need of tutelage about these methods?"
"Again, no."
"Are you and Miss Weasley taking appropriate precautions to–"
"Oh my god, stop. It's not– it's not like that. We're not…doing that." Harry interrupted. "I'm sixteen, she's fifteen, it's just snogging. It's really–"
"You will be seventeen in less than a week, and Miss Weasley will be sixteen shortly thereafter. Your mother and I were nineteen when–"
"Please do not continue that sentence. I get the point. But also, there's a war on, in case you hadn't noticed. That…sort of thing, isn't exactly on my mind right now."
Severus sighed.
"Harry, it's precisely because there's a war on that I am talking to you about this. War does things to young people. It makes them grow up too fast. It's already done it to you and to Miss Weasley, and to your friends, too. You begin to feel as if you're running out of time and you seek out things that make you forget about the war. It's a dangerous combination. I merely wish to equip you, in the best way that I can, to deal with these things when they do arise."
Severus paused for a moment.
"If I may, I would say that I believe you and Miss Weasley are…well-matched. I see how the two of you make each other happy and I appreciate the way she helped you navigate the trials of the last year, even when you and I were not always able to help each other."
"Yeah, she's been amazing."
"I believe she will be quite the formidable witch, if she is not already."
"Well, she isn't afraid of you, so there's that."
"An admirable quality," he said, then met Harry's eyes across the room. "And do you care for her? Deeply?" he continued.
Harry took a sharp breath, unprepared for both the question and the tug on his heart that came with it. He looked into his father's stormy eyes as he replied, "Yes. I do."
"Earlier you said it was 'just snogging,' so I–"
"You misunderstand. I wasn't talking about my relationship. Gin is–she's—it's more than just snogging. She's funny, so much funnier than people think. And she's clever and beautiful and a bloody amazing flier. I can talk to her about anything and she always supports me, but also doesn't let me get away with stupid stuff. And she understands me, maybe more than anyone else. She's, I don't even know how to describe it, but it's not 'just snogging.' I mean, that's all we're doing. Well, we talk, too, of course, but–she's–I–ugh!" Harry sighed again, flopping back down across his bed.
How could he explain what Ginny was to him? She was everything. It was that simple, but at the same time, it wasn't. Harry wasn't stupid. He understood that most people would look at the two of them and see a summer fling or a passing crush, but things were so much deeper than that for him, and he thought, he hoped, they were for her, too. He had zero plans to do things without her. None. He already knew he'd be an absolute wreck if she wasn't there steering him in the right direction, anchoring him, keeping him steady. But he also knew that saying those things at age sixteen made him sound like a nutter.
So, instead, he just sighed again.
"It's okay, son. I understand. What was it Remus said to me once? 'Snapes and redheads.' Ginny even reminds me of Lily sometimes. They have the same fierceness of spirit."
Harry turned his head to look at his father, but he was no longer looking back at him. His dad's eyes were unfocused, seeming to be staring into nothing as he thought about Harry's mum. Abruptly he came back to himself, visibly shaking off whatever memory he'd been lost in.
"I won't broach this subject with you again, but as your father, and as a potions master who doesn't aspire to having his home blown up by his hormone-addled, lovestruck son attempting to make a contraceptive potion, please come to me if you need anything. I will do my utmost to refrain from passing judgment," he said with a sarcastic sneer.
"No you won't," Harry retorted with a scoff.
"I will at least make an attempt."
"Doubtful. But it's okay. You fathered a child at age nineteen while carrying on an affair with a woman who belonged to a group that your buddies all wanted to kill, then tormented that child for fifteen years because you hated the man you thought was his dad. What can you possibly say to me that would top that?"
Harry looked at his father with a smug grin. There was a small part of him that wondered whether he'd crossed a line just then. His father's face remained impassive, and Harry began to grow concerned, but then one corner of the mouth quirked up ever so slightly. A tension Harry was barely even aware of fell off of his shoulders at the sight.
"I am pleased to have been able to provide you with such an apt example of poor behavior so that you will know what not to do."
"Thanks."
"Glad to be of service," his dad concluded with a mock bow, as he stood from his seat. "In hopefully unrelated news, I have worked out appropriate measures with the Weasley's. I believe security will be sufficient for you to attend the wedding, provided you allow me to accompany you, in case of emergency. Is this amenable?"
"Yes! Of course! Thank you!"
"You're quite welcome. I am glad we were able to work it out. I had not wanted you to miss it, truly."
"I know. Thanks for, you know, compromising. I'm sure it wasn't easy."
"It was dreadful…but I endured. I am going to have a cup of tea before bed, would you like me to make you some?"
"No, thank you. I'm good."
"Very well. I will see you in the morning, then."
"See you in the morning. 'Night."
Harry watched as his father walked out through his door, pulling it mostly shut behind him. He never closed it all the way for some reason, so Harry got up to latch it himself when he suddenly remembered about the locket. He yanked the door back open.
"Wait!" he shouted down the hallway. He took a few steps out of his room but was stopped as Severus's head appeared around the edge of the stairs, a curious expression on his face.
"I've just remembered something," Harry continued. "Hermione was talking to me and Ron earlier and she figures something is up with the locket."
"I see," Severus said, stepping fully into the hall. "And what was her conclusion?"
"Well, she isn't sure. She said it wasn't the right locket to be Slytherin's locket, but she didn't think Voldemort would use two lockets as horcruxes, and it didn't fit with the pattern anyway. I'm pretty sure she thinks the one we have is a fake, somehow. Also, she's pretty sure she saw the actual locket at Grimmauld Place. Kreacher ran off with it the summer before Fifth Year when we were all cleaning the place."
Harry watched as his dad regarded him with a blank face. It would have unnerved Harry to see him standing so blankly after such a declaration, except he knew it to be the face he wore when he was thinking particularly hard about something. He waited for what felt like an awfully long time before he finally spoke.
"I am afraid Miss Granger is likely correct. I had not wanted to mention it to you until I was certain, but the locket does not seem to be all it is meant to be. I was hoping further investigation could wait until we have secured a method of disposing of it, should it, in fact, be a horcrux. But this news about Grimmauld Place changes things significantly. I must think on this."
He turned to head back down the stairs, but paused and turned back towards Harry.
"Thank you," he said, sincerely, "for bringing this to me. I know it must have been difficult for you."
Harry shrugged his shoulders.
"Actually, we used to try and tell stuff to McGonagall all the time, she just never believed us, so we stopped."
Severus grunted and muttered something that Harry thought was probably "of course," but he pretended not to hear it. He also pretended not to see the eye roll that followed, or the shake of his father's dark head as he once again made his way back down the stairs towards the kitchen.
Harry returned to his room with his own shake of the head. Some parts of living with his dad were awkward, like figuring out the daily routines and talking about relationships with someone who, a year ago, was, at best, his least-favorite teacher and, at worst, his second-greatest enemy. But other parts still felt a little surreal, like being wished a good night or offered a cup of tea that he wasn't expected to make himself. And other parts were completely unbelievable, despite the fact that he was living them, like having someone who loved and cared for him enough to have awkward conversations with him and still want to make him tea. And having an adult that actually listened to him without immediately dismissing him or calling him a freak. So, if it all came as a package deal–the awkward, surreal, and unbelievable all together, with none of the other stuff he'd had to deal with while living at the Dursleys–then maybe it wasn't such a bad deal after all.