Disclaimer: I own nothing. Harry, Hedwig, Severus (as much as I love him), and everyone else, all belong to JKR and whoever else is in the long list of Harry Potter owners. Tidmag owns the basic plot as he/she (?) gave me the idea for this story. Also, this is another answer for Severitus' challenge. This story has no relation to my other story written partly in answer to Severitus' challenge because there is no Saerry (except for yours truly). I also do not own The Calling or their lyrics.
Summary: Fifth year and Harry finds himself changing. But are they for better or for worse? And what secret lurks behind these changes? A secret only Remus Lupin seems to know.
Lady of Arundel You're about to find out. ^_^ *maniacal grin* Yep. I am, after all, the Keeper of Evil. *chuckle*
nameless I think so. Seems to be turning out that way
Dark Wolf Ah, but Hermie wouldn't do that. And Atrata's pushing for a good ending. *glares at her muse, who sticks out his tongue*
still have no name Not really. I keep listening to the two voices in my head (my oh-so-helpful muses) and one says 'Kill Dumbledore!' and the other says 'Hey! Let's make Harry suicidal!'. I just happened to listen to both. *sheepish grin*
These Dreams-Saerry Snape-
* The Writing's On the Wall *
~*~
Look around, the writing's on the wall
Don't you think that we're all feeling crazed
In a world, where nothing's as it seems
Paved with broken dreams, I found truth
My God, I should know you're right
I should know its right to say I thank you for my days
~*~
Harry's POV
I can't believe I'm doing this.
Shit, I can't do this!
No, no. I promised Hermione I would. I promised. Dammit, why? I can't really go through with this!
Shit. HERM!
I ran a hand back through my hair and suppressed a shiver. Sighing, I pushed open the door to the Potions classroom, trying to ignore the scar across my wrist. I froze and stared at it.
Hell, why did I do that?
I don't want to die.
So why did I try to kill myself?
Dammit, this is confusing.
I almost turned and bolted but I gathered myself together and pushed the door completely open. Sna – my father sat behind his desk, grading papers. He looked up as I came in and his dark eyes widened in surprise.
I nervously shuffled my feet and asked meekly, "Can I talk to you, professor?"
************************
Snape's POVI looked up from a stack of papers I was grading as the door swung open. My eyes widened when I saw Harry standing there, looking nervous.
He meekly asked, "Can I talk to you, professor?"
I started to reply but the words got lost somewhere along the way to my mouth and my tongue decided to take the time to stick itself to the top of my mouth.
Harry frowned at me and softly said, "I guess not." He started to close the door and I leapt to my feet.
"Harry. Wait."
He paused in the door, emerald eyes turning on me in surprise.
I waved a hand at a desk and said, "Come back."
Harry entered cautiously, closing the door behind him and moving over to the desk. He didn't sit, just watched me with those eyes.
Shit.
I coughed and asked, "What is it you wanted to talk about?"
Harry shuffled his feet then softly said, "I'm sorry."
I blinked.
"What?"
"I – I'm sorry I didn't believe you. I just – couldn't, you know?" He looked away and muttered, "Of course you don't. You couldn't know."
I frowned and said, "You have nothing to be sorry for, Harry."
Harry looked up at me and said, "Yes, I do. I – I –" His voice trailed off and he looked away again.
I frowned at him then noticed a jagged, newly healed scar on his wrist.
"What –?"
Rising, I walked around the desk and grabbed Harry's wrist, turning it over so his palm faced upward. The scar ran straight over the main artery and was fairly deep.
It was the kind of scar you had when you were serious about killing yourself.
I looked up at my son, anger boiling through me. He was quivering like a leaf in a strong breeze, eyes wide on my face. As soon as I met those eyes I melted. Hell, it'd been the same way with Lily.
"S – s – s – sorry."
Harry stuttered wildly and turned his face away from mine. Gently, I reached up and grasped his chin, turning his face back towards me.
"Harry, why did you try to kill yourself?"
"I – I – I couldn't h – handle it. The tr – truth. Th – that y – you were my f – f – father."
Something gave my heartstrings a nice, good tug right then and there. Ow. I resisted the sudden urge to envelope my son in a hug and instead rested my hands on his shoulders. I could feel him quivering beneath my fingertips.
"Harry, killing yourself wouldn't have done a bit of good."
"I – I know."
"Good." I frowned again and asked, "You are alright with this now, are you not?"
Harry nodded. He had stopped shaking mostly but his eyes were still focused away from my face.
"I'm – okay with it. It's going to take getting used to."
I nodded.
"It will. But I swear, if I had know you were my son –"
"We can't change the past."
"I know. God, don't I know. If I could, I'd sell my soul to have your mother back for one day."
Harry looked up at me, his eyes – her eyes – focused on my face. He said, "You really did love her didn't you?"
I nodded and replied, "More than life itself. And she is the only reason I've protected you all these years."
"Why?"
"I swore to her when you were born, that no matter if you were my son or James', I would always protect you."
"Oh." Harry turned away for a moment then asked, "What was James like? You called him a bastard before."
"Well, he wasn't really a bastard, but he did make my life a living Hell. Or perhaps that was Black. I can't remember which was worse."
Harry smiled slightly and said, "Most likely Sirius."
I nodded, noting the smile, and said, "More than likely."
"So why do you call him a bastard?"
"How would you feel if you were forced to see your wife with your worst enemy and he taunted you every time he saw you about it?"
Harry winced. "Oh. He wasn't that nice."
I frowned in thought and said, "Well, he was. It was actually partially my fault about the hatred between us. But if it wasn't for Lily, I would have killed him and Black."
"She stopped you?"
"When she could. Her and Remus."
"Since when did you call Professor Lupin Remus?"
I smiled wryly. "I always have."
"I've never – "
"Just not in front of students. Can't ruin my reputation as a cold-hearted bastard, now can I?"
Harry blinked at him then chuckled. "Of course not."
I smiled and gently squeezed his shoulder. "Your sure you're okay with this?"
"Yea. I just have to deal with Ron. He seems to think I've known all along."
"He'll get over it."
"More than likely."
Harry frowned then added, "Erm, professor?"
"Hmm?"
"If you're actually my father, how come I looked like James?"
I frowned then shrugged.
"That, Harry, is a question to ask Remus. He was the only person besides Lily who knew I was your father."
"Oh. Okay. I guess I'd better go now."
"Goodbye, Harry."
"Goodbye, professor."
With that he left and I sat back down behind my desk. Opening a drawer, I pulled out a small Muggle photograph of Lily and myself. Her mother had taken it the summer of our sixth year, when I had spent a whole month with Lily. We were sitting outside under a gigantic oak, I leaning against the tree and Lily leaning against me. Our hands were clasped in front of us and carved in the tree above our heads were the initials –
LE
&
SS
F
I smiled at the photograph and whispered, "Our son has finally accepted me, Lil. I just hope I can keep my promise to you to keep him safe."
I smiled at the photo one last time then put it back in its drawer, locking it afterwards. Sighing, I returned to grading the papers, my mind completely focused on my son.
~*~
Sit down, lose yourself in thought,
Then you might find out it's all we've got
Take a chance, the future's in your hands
Make it what you can before your time has reached the end
~*~