AN: so here's the thing. FF.net was down of Friday so I couldn't upload
this chapter. I was right royally peed off. By rights, I should have
another two chapters to upload at the same time as this one. I don't.
Writer's block, don't you know. I'm just not sure what's got to happen
next. Vaary annoying. I'll try my best to get the next chapter up by
tomorrow. Just.... stick with me will you?
And now for the inaugural thanking of the reviewers:
LegacyLady: Oooo! A 'FANTASTIQUE'! ^_^ *grins madly* thanx for the review loaded with compliments
Nicky: You understand the photo now? Good. Gotta figure out Sev'll explain yet....
josepotter: I'ma writing, I'ma writing.... ^_~
Lady of Arundel: I'll simply DIE (either that or stop writing) if you don't review! I live on my reviews.... It never really occurred to me that Dumbledore might fix it..... I mean, it's not really his business, although that hasn't stopped him before. Eh. As to Remy and Sev, you'll just have to wait and see....
Phoenix G. Fawkes: woohoo! I'm so glad you didn't expect it. I tried to write the story so the whole thing would be unexpected....
Lee Lee Potter: I made that twist *because* it wasn't in any of the Severitus challenge fics. I wanted something different. 'Course, it's harder to explain.... *drops her head into her hands and wails* Oh what have I done!
SilverWolf: ^_^ Mpreg stories with Sev pregnant? 'Course they're funny! Can you imagine Sev bursting into tears in the middle of a Gryffindor/Slytherin potions class cuz of hormones? *snigger*
Pagan witch: congrats on catching the twist. Although I have to say I kinda wish you hadn't... I'm not quite sure just yet how to go about Harry and Sev....
Tantz: = S I'm glad you respect my twist... And I don't mean that sarcastically. All will be explained (or at least some) in this chapter about Harry and Lily
Elektra Joradees Gamblin: It was freaky? How?
SilverMoon: I can't stop grinning. I love the fact that you love it! It may take Harry a while....or not... It depends how Gryffindor or Slytherin he is I guess
Danie C: Brilliant. *chortles* I think I like you.
della luna: The explaination... Ah yes! The explanation.... I'm afraid you'll have to wait just a little longer for that sorry.... On the other hand, I think I like Sev's reaction. Only my reviews will tell...
You guys all have no idea how relieved I am that you liked my twist. The whole reason I made this twist was because I get sick of seeing a variation on the same theme over and over again. Don't get me wrong: I love some of the Severitus challenge response out there. I especially like SilverWolf's story. But I just wanted to do something different.
Chapter Nine: Upon the midnight hour
Severus glanced at the majestic old grandfather clock in the entrance hall as he hobbled past it, leaning heavily on a cane. The dial read half past the hour of eleven. Half an hour til his son's fifteenth birthday.
Severus hadn't seen Harry since the boy had run from the infirmary the day before. He hadn't tried to. Even without the advice of Dumbledore and Remus, he knew that it would be best to give Harry time to come to terms with his new knowledge.
But it hadn't been easy, to stay away. Not once in fourteen years had Severus found it easy to stay away from his son. But the temptation had never been so hard to resist as it had been in the last day and a half. Simply knowing that his son now knew who his father was made it a thousand times more difficult to prevent himself from taking the boy in his arms and mourning, finally, over the loss of James.
The night, fourteen years gone, he had arrived home to find his husband dead and his son gone, Severus had closed off a part of himself and refused to look at it since. Into that deep crevice of his mind he had relegated every emotion, thought and reminder of his family, refusing to deal with it.
At the time, he had told himself it was because he didn't have the leisure to deal with it. He convinced himself that to show any hint of sorrow at the death of James Potter and Lily Evans would be a fatal mistake, one that he could never pardon. He swore blind to Dumbledore that his only regret was that it was such a pointless waste of life. He swore blind to Voldemort that his only regret was that Harry had not died as well. He swore blind to himself that he could handle his grief.
It was a lie.
Oh, he knew he was right to conceal all emotion from Voldemort and his Death Eaters; any fool would have known that. Severus had even known he was right to deny to the side of Light that he felt anything more than remorse. It *would* have endangered his son. But, at the same time, on some deep level, Severus knew that that was just the rationale.
The truth was he didn't *want* to deal with the welter of emotions, not then or ever. He saw no reason why he should have to be coming to terms with having lost his family. No man should have to do that. And especially not when said man should have been able to save them. Above all, Severus blamed himself for not being there that night; for not being able to save the only family that had ever mattered to him.
There had only been one person that had seen through him, and he only because he knew the truth of the situation. Remus had been a confidant of James and Severus from almost the very beginning, back in the last of their school days. And when the werewolf had gone to Severus after that awful night, offering comfort and someone to grieve with, Severus had turned on him. Had spit hateful words in his friend's face and accused him of not saving Lily and James. Severus had slipped a frozen mask over his pain and he left Remus in a state of desolate confusion.
For years Severus had been successful in denying his unresolved grief. No one had noticed anything beyond the frozen mask that was his constant companion. Even as he had stood, year after year, on the footpath of Privet Drive, staring at No. 4 hoping for some glimpse of the child of his and James's union, he had managed to fool even himself.
But then, he had always been a master of deception. After surviving years as a spy in the Death Eaters' midst, he could be nothing less.
But his talent for self-deception had meant nothing on Harry's first day at Hogwarts. Even though he had known it was coming and had steeled himself against the blow, the moment the doors of the Great Hall had swung open and revealed a miniature replica of James standing there, it had all come crashing back with painful intensity. Every moment with James, every brief moment they had spent together with the infant Harry as a fledgling family, every look, every touch, every word, every emotion was there with crystal clarity in his mind, threatening to spill over his mask. Threatening to endanger his secret and the life of his son.
So he had done the only thing he could. The only thing he would let himself do.
He had taken it out on Harry.
He had taken every desire to hold and cherish his son, every memory and every grief, and turned them back on themselves. Mutated them until they resembled contempt and dislike and hate and aimed them at his son, driving the boy from him. He had deliberately set out to make Harry hate and fear him so that, even if he one day had the courage to tell his son the truth, Harry would reject him out of hand and the secret would be safe, along with the life of the only thing Severus had to remind himself of his beloved husband.
But no matter how hard he had tried, Severus couldn't make the semblance of hate become a reality in his own heart. Every time Harry had flinched at the sound of his voice, a dagger had ripped at his heart. He had pushed the pain into the recesses of his mind, using it to fuel the mask that wore thinner every time Harry brushed with death.
The mask had finally succumbed the afternoon before when Harry had confronted him for the truth. Severus had never felt so relieved. Even though he had never intended for the truth to come to light, once it had a great weight had lifted from Severus's shoulders. In its wake were all the issues left over from the deaths of James and Lily and the loss of Harry fourteen years previously, welling up into his mind and refusing to be ignored any longer. But even they had been overshadowed by the all- consuming joy that came with the thought that finally, *finally* he would once again be able to embrace his son. That joy had dimmed dramatically when Harry had turned and fled the room.
Severus had cried that night. The first time in fourteen years. It had been a catharsis, the beginning of the grieving process that should have run its course years ago. He had raged at James for leaving him. He had raged at himself for failing his family. He had raged at Voldemort for taking his family from him. He had raged at the Fates for allowing it all to happen.
He allowed himself, at long last, to come to terms with the loss of his family.
The morning had found him feeling freer than he had in almost a decade and a half. The only thing left to him now was to facilitate reconciliation between himself and his son. He only hoped Harry could forgive him all he had put the child through. He had never had the chance to be a father and didn't believe he would be a particularly good one. All he did know was that he *wanted* to be Harry's.
All he could do was try his best and hope.
Severus hobbled to a halt in front of the statue guarding the entrance to his son's room. Unusually for Hogwarts, it depicted a muggle saint, Saint Anthony, patron saint of lost things and Severus had to admire the irony of it.
In the entrance hall, Severus heard the grandfather clock strike the quarter hour. He stiffened his resolve and whispered the password Harry's friends had been convinced to divulge.
'Prongs,' a wistful smile tugged at Severus's lips as he murmured his late husband's pseudonym. He slipped behind the shifting statue and entered the room.
Harry lay lost in the middle of his bed, curled on his side, one hand twitching one his pillow beside his mouth. Dry tracks of tears marred his pale cheeks and his lips turned subtly down. His ebony hair lay in familiar disarray on the pillow and sleeping, the boy looked altogether too vulnerable. Severus was reminded - as he was every time he looked at his son - of James. In the repose of sleep, James's face had always retained a child-like innocence and vulnerability as Harry's did now.
Severus released his burden onto the foot of the bed, careful not disturb the sleeping boy. Leaning heavily on the cane, he moved to the head of the bed. He stood for the longest time, staring down at Harry. Not since Harry had been a babe in arms had Severus been able to indulge himself in simply looking his fill at his son.
Harry trembled and gasped in his sleep and a lock of hair drifted across his face. Automatically, Severus reached a hand to brush it back. His hand hovered a fraction of an inch from completing the action then drew back.
Severus turned to leave. He never made it further than the armchair in the corner. A relieved sigh slipped his lips as the weight was taken from his still healing legs, but Severus paid them no mind. He was watching his son sleep.
He intended to stay only a moment.
Harry was aware of three things the moment he awoke.
One. Severus Snape was his father: In the hours since discovering this, Harry had thought of nothing else. He still had no idea what to make of it. He wasn't sure how to proceed with the man who had ignored him for fourteen years. Intellectually, he knew he owed Snape a chance to explain, but so often the intellect was overpowered by the heart and Harry's heart was still undecided.
Two. It was his birthday: For the first time in his life, he would be able to celebrate this day with his friends. The closest he had ever come to sharing this day with someone he cared for was the birthday he had meet Hagrid, but this year there would Ron and Hermione and Remus and Dumbledore and.... his father.
Three: There was an unfamiliar weight at the end of his bed.
Harry prodded it with his toe. It shifted. There was a sliding sound and something fell onto his foot. Harry's eyes popped open and he stared at the culprit.
Piled haphazardly on the end of his bed was an odd assortment of packages and boxes, all brightly wrapped, all tagged. Harry sat up and pulled one to him, reading the tag. It said: "To my dearest Harry, on your fifth birthday. Your father, Severus."
Harry dropped the oddly shaped parcel in his lap and reached for another. The tag on this one read: "Harry, On the occasion of your tenth birthday. Your Father."
Harry quickly snatched up every present in the pile. They were all addressed similarly. There was one for every year of his life. Every birthday he had ever had, there was a present from Severus for.
The last present Harry picked up was the smallest. It was a box wrapped in green and gold paper, small enough to fit in the palm of his hand. The tag on this one read differently: "To our son Harry. In celebration of your fifteenth year. Your fathers, James and Severus."
Harry's hand weren't particularly steady as he pulled back the paper. The box within was a black velvet jeweller's box. Harry snapped open the lid and gasped. Lying in the gold satin of the interior was a simple silver signet ring. The face was an exact replica of Harry's wizard-mark.
Harry plucked the ring from the box and slid it onto his right ring finger. The metal warmed and contracted until it was a perfect fit. For long moment, Harry just looked at the ring on his finger.
Harry turned back to the fifteen years' worth of birthday presents still waiting to be opened. He retrieved the first one he had picked up from his lap; the one for his fifth birthday. It was about as long as his arm and oddly shaped.
Harry began to unwind the paper. As he reached the last layer, a toy broom tumbled out into his lap. He picked it up again and caressed its handle. Tears sprung to his eyes.
It was at that moment that a voice spoke from the shadowed armchair in the corner.
'James bought that when he first found out I was pregnant.'
Harry started harshly. He hadn't realised until that moment that he wasn't alone. His eyes sought out the figure in the chair and connected with Snape's dark gaze as the man sat forward.
'He refused to listen when Lily and I tried to tell him you wouldn't be able to use it until you were at least four.'
Harry looked down at the broom again and ran his hand down the length of it. He didn't know what to say. He was grateful when Snape didn't say anything more, just sat there waiting for Harry to make the next move. Like some hopelessly complicated game of chess. Harry wanted to laugh; he had never been any good at chess.
There were so many questions that were waiting to be asked and explanations that needed to be made. Harry simply didn't know where to start.... Or did he? There was one question that had been burning in the back of Harry's mind since he had found out the truth. Never looking up, he voiced it.
'Who was Lily?'
Severus blinked. He had been expecting questions from his son, but he hadn't thought he'd start with that one. He didn't pretend to misunderstand what Harry was asking though.
'She was my half-sister.'
Harry's head jerked as though to look up, but then the movement stilled and he was staring intently at the toy broom's bristles. Severus could tell by the set of his shoulders that he was listening.
'Lily was my closest friend in our school years. When we found out we were siblings, she were delighted... Her mother was a muggle. We had the same father,' Severus smiled fondly at the memory of his own father, 'He was so pleased that we got along.'
Something Remus had said in the Quidditch stands days ago came back to Harry, 'I was named for him?'
Severus started, 'How did you..?' he thought the better of the question, 'Yes. James and I decided to name you after him.'
Harry gestured towards his face, 'My eyes?'
Severus realised then that Harry was only asking safe questions, none directly related to the relationship between his parents. He wasn't ready to think about that yet. Severus was only to happy to answer any question his son felt like asking. At least the boy was talking to him.
'When I was a child, I used to wish I had those eyes. You and Lily got them from your great-grandmother, an Irish witch.'
Harry nodded his head. Suddenly, he felt a little more like himself again. A piece of the puzzle that was his identity had snapped home. While Lily had not been his *mother*, she *was* his aunt. He still had some claim on her.
Harry darted a shy smile at the man in the armchair, never quite meeting the eyes. He selected another present from the pile before him. Severus stood, stretched and plucked the cane from were it lay against the wall. He stood looking down at his son for a moment.
'I'll let you finish opening your presents in private.'
Harry nodded but didn't look up again. He was intent on the four- dimensional magic puzzle that had been a gift for his ninth birthday. Severus's lips twitched minutely upward. James had never been so intent on anything. In this small way, Harry took after Severus himself.
He turned to leave. Just as he reached the door, he turned back. Harry was reaching for a flat box that Severus recalled held an heirloom wizarding chess-set for his fourteenth.
'Happy birthday, Harry.'
Harry looked up. A bright smile, a carbon copy of James's, flitted across his lips.
'Thanks...' He whispered.
Severus smiled slightly at him and stepped through the door.
Clutching the half-unwrapped present in his hands, Harry watched Severus leave the room. Only when the door had swung fully shut behind him and several heartbeats had passed did Harry finish his sentence, '....Dad.'
TBC
AN: Did Sev slip OOC? I think he may have a little at the end there.
I wasn't ready for their deep-and-meaningful. Quite frankly, I don't think they were either.
I'm thinking my Muses need a severe talking to....
And now for the inaugural thanking of the reviewers:
LegacyLady: Oooo! A 'FANTASTIQUE'! ^_^ *grins madly* thanx for the review loaded with compliments
Nicky: You understand the photo now? Good. Gotta figure out Sev'll explain yet....
josepotter: I'ma writing, I'ma writing.... ^_~
Lady of Arundel: I'll simply DIE (either that or stop writing) if you don't review! I live on my reviews.... It never really occurred to me that Dumbledore might fix it..... I mean, it's not really his business, although that hasn't stopped him before. Eh. As to Remy and Sev, you'll just have to wait and see....
Phoenix G. Fawkes: woohoo! I'm so glad you didn't expect it. I tried to write the story so the whole thing would be unexpected....
Lee Lee Potter: I made that twist *because* it wasn't in any of the Severitus challenge fics. I wanted something different. 'Course, it's harder to explain.... *drops her head into her hands and wails* Oh what have I done!
SilverWolf: ^_^ Mpreg stories with Sev pregnant? 'Course they're funny! Can you imagine Sev bursting into tears in the middle of a Gryffindor/Slytherin potions class cuz of hormones? *snigger*
Pagan witch: congrats on catching the twist. Although I have to say I kinda wish you hadn't... I'm not quite sure just yet how to go about Harry and Sev....
Tantz: = S I'm glad you respect my twist... And I don't mean that sarcastically. All will be explained (or at least some) in this chapter about Harry and Lily
Elektra Joradees Gamblin: It was freaky? How?
SilverMoon: I can't stop grinning. I love the fact that you love it! It may take Harry a while....or not... It depends how Gryffindor or Slytherin he is I guess
Danie C: Brilliant. *chortles* I think I like you.
della luna: The explaination... Ah yes! The explanation.... I'm afraid you'll have to wait just a little longer for that sorry.... On the other hand, I think I like Sev's reaction. Only my reviews will tell...
You guys all have no idea how relieved I am that you liked my twist. The whole reason I made this twist was because I get sick of seeing a variation on the same theme over and over again. Don't get me wrong: I love some of the Severitus challenge response out there. I especially like SilverWolf's story. But I just wanted to do something different.
Chapter Nine: Upon the midnight hour
Severus glanced at the majestic old grandfather clock in the entrance hall as he hobbled past it, leaning heavily on a cane. The dial read half past the hour of eleven. Half an hour til his son's fifteenth birthday.
Severus hadn't seen Harry since the boy had run from the infirmary the day before. He hadn't tried to. Even without the advice of Dumbledore and Remus, he knew that it would be best to give Harry time to come to terms with his new knowledge.
But it hadn't been easy, to stay away. Not once in fourteen years had Severus found it easy to stay away from his son. But the temptation had never been so hard to resist as it had been in the last day and a half. Simply knowing that his son now knew who his father was made it a thousand times more difficult to prevent himself from taking the boy in his arms and mourning, finally, over the loss of James.
The night, fourteen years gone, he had arrived home to find his husband dead and his son gone, Severus had closed off a part of himself and refused to look at it since. Into that deep crevice of his mind he had relegated every emotion, thought and reminder of his family, refusing to deal with it.
At the time, he had told himself it was because he didn't have the leisure to deal with it. He convinced himself that to show any hint of sorrow at the death of James Potter and Lily Evans would be a fatal mistake, one that he could never pardon. He swore blind to Dumbledore that his only regret was that it was such a pointless waste of life. He swore blind to Voldemort that his only regret was that Harry had not died as well. He swore blind to himself that he could handle his grief.
It was a lie.
Oh, he knew he was right to conceal all emotion from Voldemort and his Death Eaters; any fool would have known that. Severus had even known he was right to deny to the side of Light that he felt anything more than remorse. It *would* have endangered his son. But, at the same time, on some deep level, Severus knew that that was just the rationale.
The truth was he didn't *want* to deal with the welter of emotions, not then or ever. He saw no reason why he should have to be coming to terms with having lost his family. No man should have to do that. And especially not when said man should have been able to save them. Above all, Severus blamed himself for not being there that night; for not being able to save the only family that had ever mattered to him.
There had only been one person that had seen through him, and he only because he knew the truth of the situation. Remus had been a confidant of James and Severus from almost the very beginning, back in the last of their school days. And when the werewolf had gone to Severus after that awful night, offering comfort and someone to grieve with, Severus had turned on him. Had spit hateful words in his friend's face and accused him of not saving Lily and James. Severus had slipped a frozen mask over his pain and he left Remus in a state of desolate confusion.
For years Severus had been successful in denying his unresolved grief. No one had noticed anything beyond the frozen mask that was his constant companion. Even as he had stood, year after year, on the footpath of Privet Drive, staring at No. 4 hoping for some glimpse of the child of his and James's union, he had managed to fool even himself.
But then, he had always been a master of deception. After surviving years as a spy in the Death Eaters' midst, he could be nothing less.
But his talent for self-deception had meant nothing on Harry's first day at Hogwarts. Even though he had known it was coming and had steeled himself against the blow, the moment the doors of the Great Hall had swung open and revealed a miniature replica of James standing there, it had all come crashing back with painful intensity. Every moment with James, every brief moment they had spent together with the infant Harry as a fledgling family, every look, every touch, every word, every emotion was there with crystal clarity in his mind, threatening to spill over his mask. Threatening to endanger his secret and the life of his son.
So he had done the only thing he could. The only thing he would let himself do.
He had taken it out on Harry.
He had taken every desire to hold and cherish his son, every memory and every grief, and turned them back on themselves. Mutated them until they resembled contempt and dislike and hate and aimed them at his son, driving the boy from him. He had deliberately set out to make Harry hate and fear him so that, even if he one day had the courage to tell his son the truth, Harry would reject him out of hand and the secret would be safe, along with the life of the only thing Severus had to remind himself of his beloved husband.
But no matter how hard he had tried, Severus couldn't make the semblance of hate become a reality in his own heart. Every time Harry had flinched at the sound of his voice, a dagger had ripped at his heart. He had pushed the pain into the recesses of his mind, using it to fuel the mask that wore thinner every time Harry brushed with death.
The mask had finally succumbed the afternoon before when Harry had confronted him for the truth. Severus had never felt so relieved. Even though he had never intended for the truth to come to light, once it had a great weight had lifted from Severus's shoulders. In its wake were all the issues left over from the deaths of James and Lily and the loss of Harry fourteen years previously, welling up into his mind and refusing to be ignored any longer. But even they had been overshadowed by the all- consuming joy that came with the thought that finally, *finally* he would once again be able to embrace his son. That joy had dimmed dramatically when Harry had turned and fled the room.
Severus had cried that night. The first time in fourteen years. It had been a catharsis, the beginning of the grieving process that should have run its course years ago. He had raged at James for leaving him. He had raged at himself for failing his family. He had raged at Voldemort for taking his family from him. He had raged at the Fates for allowing it all to happen.
He allowed himself, at long last, to come to terms with the loss of his family.
The morning had found him feeling freer than he had in almost a decade and a half. The only thing left to him now was to facilitate reconciliation between himself and his son. He only hoped Harry could forgive him all he had put the child through. He had never had the chance to be a father and didn't believe he would be a particularly good one. All he did know was that he *wanted* to be Harry's.
All he could do was try his best and hope.
Severus hobbled to a halt in front of the statue guarding the entrance to his son's room. Unusually for Hogwarts, it depicted a muggle saint, Saint Anthony, patron saint of lost things and Severus had to admire the irony of it.
In the entrance hall, Severus heard the grandfather clock strike the quarter hour. He stiffened his resolve and whispered the password Harry's friends had been convinced to divulge.
'Prongs,' a wistful smile tugged at Severus's lips as he murmured his late husband's pseudonym. He slipped behind the shifting statue and entered the room.
Harry lay lost in the middle of his bed, curled on his side, one hand twitching one his pillow beside his mouth. Dry tracks of tears marred his pale cheeks and his lips turned subtly down. His ebony hair lay in familiar disarray on the pillow and sleeping, the boy looked altogether too vulnerable. Severus was reminded - as he was every time he looked at his son - of James. In the repose of sleep, James's face had always retained a child-like innocence and vulnerability as Harry's did now.
Severus released his burden onto the foot of the bed, careful not disturb the sleeping boy. Leaning heavily on the cane, he moved to the head of the bed. He stood for the longest time, staring down at Harry. Not since Harry had been a babe in arms had Severus been able to indulge himself in simply looking his fill at his son.
Harry trembled and gasped in his sleep and a lock of hair drifted across his face. Automatically, Severus reached a hand to brush it back. His hand hovered a fraction of an inch from completing the action then drew back.
Severus turned to leave. He never made it further than the armchair in the corner. A relieved sigh slipped his lips as the weight was taken from his still healing legs, but Severus paid them no mind. He was watching his son sleep.
He intended to stay only a moment.
Harry was aware of three things the moment he awoke.
One. Severus Snape was his father: In the hours since discovering this, Harry had thought of nothing else. He still had no idea what to make of it. He wasn't sure how to proceed with the man who had ignored him for fourteen years. Intellectually, he knew he owed Snape a chance to explain, but so often the intellect was overpowered by the heart and Harry's heart was still undecided.
Two. It was his birthday: For the first time in his life, he would be able to celebrate this day with his friends. The closest he had ever come to sharing this day with someone he cared for was the birthday he had meet Hagrid, but this year there would Ron and Hermione and Remus and Dumbledore and.... his father.
Three: There was an unfamiliar weight at the end of his bed.
Harry prodded it with his toe. It shifted. There was a sliding sound and something fell onto his foot. Harry's eyes popped open and he stared at the culprit.
Piled haphazardly on the end of his bed was an odd assortment of packages and boxes, all brightly wrapped, all tagged. Harry sat up and pulled one to him, reading the tag. It said: "To my dearest Harry, on your fifth birthday. Your father, Severus."
Harry dropped the oddly shaped parcel in his lap and reached for another. The tag on this one read: "Harry, On the occasion of your tenth birthday. Your Father."
Harry quickly snatched up every present in the pile. They were all addressed similarly. There was one for every year of his life. Every birthday he had ever had, there was a present from Severus for.
The last present Harry picked up was the smallest. It was a box wrapped in green and gold paper, small enough to fit in the palm of his hand. The tag on this one read differently: "To our son Harry. In celebration of your fifteenth year. Your fathers, James and Severus."
Harry's hand weren't particularly steady as he pulled back the paper. The box within was a black velvet jeweller's box. Harry snapped open the lid and gasped. Lying in the gold satin of the interior was a simple silver signet ring. The face was an exact replica of Harry's wizard-mark.
Harry plucked the ring from the box and slid it onto his right ring finger. The metal warmed and contracted until it was a perfect fit. For long moment, Harry just looked at the ring on his finger.
Harry turned back to the fifteen years' worth of birthday presents still waiting to be opened. He retrieved the first one he had picked up from his lap; the one for his fifth birthday. It was about as long as his arm and oddly shaped.
Harry began to unwind the paper. As he reached the last layer, a toy broom tumbled out into his lap. He picked it up again and caressed its handle. Tears sprung to his eyes.
It was at that moment that a voice spoke from the shadowed armchair in the corner.
'James bought that when he first found out I was pregnant.'
Harry started harshly. He hadn't realised until that moment that he wasn't alone. His eyes sought out the figure in the chair and connected with Snape's dark gaze as the man sat forward.
'He refused to listen when Lily and I tried to tell him you wouldn't be able to use it until you were at least four.'
Harry looked down at the broom again and ran his hand down the length of it. He didn't know what to say. He was grateful when Snape didn't say anything more, just sat there waiting for Harry to make the next move. Like some hopelessly complicated game of chess. Harry wanted to laugh; he had never been any good at chess.
There were so many questions that were waiting to be asked and explanations that needed to be made. Harry simply didn't know where to start.... Or did he? There was one question that had been burning in the back of Harry's mind since he had found out the truth. Never looking up, he voiced it.
'Who was Lily?'
Severus blinked. He had been expecting questions from his son, but he hadn't thought he'd start with that one. He didn't pretend to misunderstand what Harry was asking though.
'She was my half-sister.'
Harry's head jerked as though to look up, but then the movement stilled and he was staring intently at the toy broom's bristles. Severus could tell by the set of his shoulders that he was listening.
'Lily was my closest friend in our school years. When we found out we were siblings, she were delighted... Her mother was a muggle. We had the same father,' Severus smiled fondly at the memory of his own father, 'He was so pleased that we got along.'
Something Remus had said in the Quidditch stands days ago came back to Harry, 'I was named for him?'
Severus started, 'How did you..?' he thought the better of the question, 'Yes. James and I decided to name you after him.'
Harry gestured towards his face, 'My eyes?'
Severus realised then that Harry was only asking safe questions, none directly related to the relationship between his parents. He wasn't ready to think about that yet. Severus was only to happy to answer any question his son felt like asking. At least the boy was talking to him.
'When I was a child, I used to wish I had those eyes. You and Lily got them from your great-grandmother, an Irish witch.'
Harry nodded his head. Suddenly, he felt a little more like himself again. A piece of the puzzle that was his identity had snapped home. While Lily had not been his *mother*, she *was* his aunt. He still had some claim on her.
Harry darted a shy smile at the man in the armchair, never quite meeting the eyes. He selected another present from the pile before him. Severus stood, stretched and plucked the cane from were it lay against the wall. He stood looking down at his son for a moment.
'I'll let you finish opening your presents in private.'
Harry nodded but didn't look up again. He was intent on the four- dimensional magic puzzle that had been a gift for his ninth birthday. Severus's lips twitched minutely upward. James had never been so intent on anything. In this small way, Harry took after Severus himself.
He turned to leave. Just as he reached the door, he turned back. Harry was reaching for a flat box that Severus recalled held an heirloom wizarding chess-set for his fourteenth.
'Happy birthday, Harry.'
Harry looked up. A bright smile, a carbon copy of James's, flitted across his lips.
'Thanks...' He whispered.
Severus smiled slightly at him and stepped through the door.
Clutching the half-unwrapped present in his hands, Harry watched Severus leave the room. Only when the door had swung fully shut behind him and several heartbeats had passed did Harry finish his sentence, '....Dad.'
TBC
AN: Did Sev slip OOC? I think he may have a little at the end there.
I wasn't ready for their deep-and-meaningful. Quite frankly, I don't think they were either.
I'm thinking my Muses need a severe talking to....