Harry's POV
We find ourselves seated in his bedroom, Donal in an armchair, with me on the bed. A silence has settled in the room, as neither of us knows how to start. How do I breech the subject of reuniting with a father he has never known and whom killed and tortured his mother and sister anyway?
"You know my father" Donal finally starts, curiosity tinting his voice. "And before you ask, I know about what he did. I understand that he isn't the person he was when he did those things. Though I have to admit it's is easier to accept, as I've never known my mother or sister. What I want to know is: what's he like now?"
I look seriously at him. It is a hard question for someone who has seen both his bad and good sides intimately. But I will try to answer that, even as it's hard to find words to describe someone like Sev.
"He's intelligent" I slowly start. "Extremely so. He can see through every lie you can think of, sense if something is wrong. Lethal in both mind and temper. On the outside, he's sarcastic, cool, and ruthless and he can be surprisingly nasty to the ones he holds grudges against. And that, he can do for a long time, even long after the person in question are dead. Amongst the dead, my father. Amongst the living, not long ago, myself.
"This is part of his personality, but he also has another side he never shows anyone, a side he tries to deny. Because inside, he's human. He can be both scared and nervous, even if he's imperturbable for those looking at him. He's loyal to the end if you are loyal to him. Quick minded, careful and silent, he prefers to watch and protect from afar, and keep out of the spotlight, even if he deserves it. This is mostly because of the shame he holds inside for having been a Death Eater. All the self-hatred, all the disgust. It's only recently, he's begun to come to terms with it at all."
I do not mention the talk I had with him about that. It's too precious, too personal for me to share, even with his son by blood. Donal's listening to me though, I can see it. He's practically soaking up my every word. The way I do when someone talks about my parents. The only difference is that his father is alive and mine are not.
A silent tear fall from my eye. I don't think Donal noticed it though. And for that, I'm happy. I have never really grieved over my parents; let myself accept their absence. Because even as I have two father figures now, in my godfather, in Sev, no one can really take a parent's place. I may not have known them, but I still love them. Just as I love Sirius and Sev.
Too keep from starting to cry, I start talking again.
"We have made our peace offerings now" I say, my voice thick and heavy under the pressure of my tears. "I have had the privilege to meet the Sev who once was. A humorous, kind and patient man who's a very good cook (AU: don't you dare laugh) and adores his work as a potions teacher, even as he can't help but yearn for the position which was once his."
I will say it now, even though I'm starting to realize what this will mean to our relationship. But I'm doing it for Sev, my 'dad'. For Donal, his son.
"You should meet him," I softly say. "I think you will like each other. And he will be very happy to see you, Donal. He spent years searching for you."
Donal has tears in his eyes, and I can see that he yearns to meet the only parent he has left.
"I want to meet my father," he chokingly says. "As soon as possible. I've wanted to do that for a long time, and now when I'm finally able to…"
I understand the feeling all too well. The tears are becoming stronger now, I have to get away.
"Come to the cottage tomorrow afternoon" I suggest. "He'll be there then."
And he'll recover from the meeting. Donal nods and follows me back to the fireplace. We don't say a word and as I'm once again whirling through the floo network, I let the tears loose, feeling them stream down my cheeks. As I crash into the living room, I don't even bother to try keep my legs upright, but collapse on the floor. I just curl into a ball letting the pain get the best of me. The pain of never knowing my parents, the pain of having my first father's figure on the run. The pain coming from the fear of loosing my second to his real son. And why wouldn't I? Any family I've ever had has either been lost to me or never was a family at all.
Honey has found me now and is trying to console me by cuddling her soft, furry body to mine. It's not helping much, but I'm thankful for the company as the pain I'm feeling just wreaks havoc inside. But even pain has an end. As I sit up, stroking Honey absently while the crystal nags about how I should go to bed and sleep, I glance at the clock Sev has in his living room à la Muggles. I have to begin making the potion now. Emotional pain is nothing to the pain coming from the word 'crucio'. Even as Donal will probably be the one to make the potion in the future, I will not let Sev hurt now. I will do my best for him the time I have left until Donal arrive.
Some time during my crying fit, I have decided what to do. I will make it easier for both Sev and me by leaving as he meets Donal. Sirius will welcome me if I come to visit for the rest of the summer, I know that. And this way, no one but me will be hurt. Next summer, I'll go back to the Dursleys, and I will be forever thankful for the summer I had.
*****
I'm almost asleep when Sev arrives, potion next to me, ready and flavoured with strawberry and raspberry. But as soon as he Apparates into the room, I jerk awake and walk over to him. This time, Voldemort seems to have gone easy at him, he will not need more than one cup of the potion. He's even fit enough to stand on his own as I greet him with a hug and the potion. But something is different and I can feel his eyes watching me all the time.
When we're finally upstairs, I get to know why, as he follows me into my room and look at me as I scramble under the covers. Then he sits down on the edge and look into my eyes with his expressive black ones.
"I can see that you've been crying," he simply says.
Oh no. I haven't thought of that. Stop looking at me like that. If he continues doing this, I know I'm going to break down. I know it.
"Want to tell me why?" he softly continues, refusing to let my eyes go.
I've not felt as trapped like this before, even with Voldemort. Sev just looks at me, asking me to tell him and I'm having a real hard time refusing to.
And so, I break down.
Sev's POV
Relief and happiness is what I feel as I Apparate home and see Harry half asleep on the couch. I' don't think the boy understands how much it worries me when I can't keep an eye on him. How much I care for him. I love him, not only as a son, but also as a very dear friend. He managed to penetrate my shield and now, I don't believe I can let him out again even if I wanted to.
Then, as he comes to give me our ritual hug and the healing potion, I see it. He's been crying. There are swollen, red bags under his eyes, and they scream of the pain he tries to hide inside. Something has happened while I was gone. Something that has brought him back into the state he was in when he left his relatives. Anxiousness and concern are what I feel now as I walk with him up the stairs to our bedrooms. My heart silently pleads with him to tell me what's wrong, but my mind tell me I have to ask. This adolescent boy does not want to burden me; he keeps being as strong as people think he is. Taking on more than his young shoulders can bear.
When he has crept under the cover, I gracefully sit down on the edge of the bed, searching for his eyes. I do not speak for a while after that, just look into his eyes, asking him to tell me what's wrong. First when he refuses, I speak out loud.
"I can see that you've been crying" I simply say, giving him another chance to explain.
He jumps at that, his eyes getting slightly nervous and even more pained. I can see that his shields are breaking. There's just a matter of time.
"Want to tell me why?" I gently ask, letting my feelings show in my voice.
I'm truly worried. I haven't seen him cry one time before coming here, and when here, he's only cried because of me. Which does not make my worry any easier to bear.
"I can't tell you."
I can barely hear his voice. It's so quiet, so heavy with tears. They have started to fall again.
"I want to, but I can't. There's nothing you can do anyway."
Nothing I can do? I ponder, but readily hold him as he cries against my chest. So, I almost miss the words he whispers into my cloths.
"I feel so alone…"
I should've known. But as he said, there's really nothing I can do but try and reassure him that I'm here, that I will always be here. That, and hurry up with the plan. But that can wait, I think, as tears are welling up in my eyes as well. I cry a lot these days. But then again, I have not cried nearly enough in my life. But somehow, I know that Harry will be the one to be comforted this night. For now, Harry is in more pain than I am.
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