A/N - Here we go, another chapter! I know I have the entire thing completed, but I'm revising chapters as I go...and am attempting to post them, simultaneously, with Afterglow, which is taking up the majority of my time as it has yet to be written. I'm glad you're all enjoying this the second time 'round. Thanks for your reviews. Your feedback keeps me going, really. I mean, without the feedback, I wouldn't be reposting...so thanks for your words of encouragement. I hope you continue to review, because it really does motivate me to fix these chapters up faster!
Harry raced out of that room as fast as his legs would carry him. He ignored the pain in his abdomen as he jumped the stairs, three at a time. All he could think about was how incredibly complicated everything was. How cold, hard and cruel the world could be. There had to be some sort of higher power looking down at him and laughing at all the crap he kept getting himself into.
It was all supposed to have ended with that battle.
The Gryffindor shoved a set of doors open, and raced out into the snow. The wind was biting against his cheeks, where the tears seemed to flow endlessly. He didn't care. He just had to get away. Memories of the past seven years hounded him as he ran, voices echoing in his head, invading his senses, making him try harder and faster to escape.
But he couldn't escape. He was trapped. He'd always be trapped.
Harry didn't know how long he'd been running, nor for how far, but his legs finally gave way and he collapsed into the cold, wet mush, sobbing uncontrollably. What had he done? Left his daughter, the one he'd carried around in him for a good eight and a half -bordering on nine- months, with a man he had hated for the most part of knowing. No, this grief ran further than his current mistakes and dilemmas. After all, he had never really allowed himself grieving time for anything.
He snorted. Now he was psychoanalysing himself. That was just brilliant.
But, it was true, though. The fact that he had lost so many people and never really taken the time to acknowledge it. His parents, friends, teachers, peers…..even Malfoy. They had all been taken from him, and he had never stopped to grieve properly. And now he had to be responsible and fill in so many voids for an innocent child. No, not just any innocent child. His daughter.
He couldn't fill all those places himself.
And what would Ron and Hermione say when they found out….if they found out? God, Ron was still shaken after losing his sister….Hermione had lost Justin…..and it was all because of him.
If he had only died as a baby none of this would have happened.
'No.' His mind scolded him, 'Things would probably be much worse for them.'
Harry shooed the voice away. He was drowning in self-pity. It was eating away at his insides, gripping at his heart and refusing to let go. Somewhere deep down, he knew he had to fight it. He couldn't leave Callisto alone, without her parents, as he had been. He couldn't offer her the nuclear family that he had always yearned for, nor could he supply her with her second father, but he could still be there for her himself.
Would she hate him for it in the future?
Taming his sobs, Harry conceded that she most probably would. Hell, it would be half his luck if she looked at him accusingly and demanded to know why she had been left with Severus Snape as an infant, when it should have been her father holding her for the first time.
The Gryffindor winced at the possibility.
He couldn't find a valid reason for the still unspoken question. Sure, he could argue his shock and pain. He could argue his own emotional trauma. He could try to explain every emotion that had passed through his body when he gave birth, but none of them would be a suitable reason. They were all excuses. Excuses for his weaknesses. 'Selfish wallowing' as Severus had put it. And he'd been right.
He wondered, idly, if Snape had ever had kids himself. Or if he had ever wanted them. He seemed to know how to care for one…Harry crinkled his nose in concentration. It wasn't very likely. Besides, he'd overheard Hermione during one of her rants that most Potions Masters also took a degree in medi-wizardry, as a lot of the skills linked the two professions, and it always helped to know how to heal people in the event of a potions mishap.
He sighed, before realising that he was shivering miserably. There were paths down his cheeks where the tears had been, and the wind was still nipping at him. It was early in the day, and he realised that it would be stupid to remain outside and catch a death of cold. He'd read somewhere that infants were extremely susceptible to sickness and that was the last thing he wanted to be passing on to his daughter.
Forcing himself to stand on shaky legs, Harry turned in the direction he had come from. As it wasn't snowing, he could follow his footprints back to the manor. He trudged back slowly, knowing that when he got back, his potions professor would be less than impressed with him. Well, even less so than he had been.
Not that he didn't deserve the attitude.
-?-
Severus had given up glaring out the window for sign of the young man's return. He'd tended to the baby's needs, even proffered a mobile of sorts to build her attention span; force her to start concentrating on things. As of that moment in time, she seemed quite content to lie in her makeshift bassinet while various colours and objects twirled above her. She was actually being quiet. Severus was pleased.
His attention was focussed on her, now. The way a tiny hand would fly up every so often in a vain bid to grasp one of the flying objects caused him to smile a little. Her fathers had both been rather talented seekers, what more could one expect?
As the potions master felt himself drifting off –he'd maintain that it was all due to the lack of sleep the previous night, and NOT the effects of the magical mobile- one of the back doors clicked shut. His eyes whipped open and he sat up in time to glare at Potter as he walked in, shoulders slumped in self-defeat.
He knew better than to snap at the younger man for his actions, no matter how frustrating they had been. After all, he understood that Harry had a lot to deal with, and it went further than the issues brought forth by the now sleeping baby before them.
The most frustrating part of this scenario, in Severus' opinion at any rate, was that he would have to show Harry a side of himself that nobody had seen in years. Sure, the Gryffindor (and Dumbledore) had caught glimpses of it in the past, but they were nothing compared to the entire persona. But, if it was the only way to break down the walls separating Potter from his child, then so be it.
Harry avoided his gaze, and made a feeble attempt to stroll through the room and up the stairs without any form of confrontation. Severus sighed. This Christmas was going to be hell.
"Harry." He spoke quietly, but in a tone that demanded attention. No matter which side of himself he was showing, Severus Snape was not one to be overlooked or argued with.
The younger man turned around slowly, his eyes still avoiding contact with the potions master. "Professor." He regarded the elder, mentally kicking himself for his cowardly manner of dealing with things. Snape wasn't his professor this Christmas. He wasn't sure what the man was….but there was no way he could continue calling him 'Professor' and 'sir'. Especially when he was speaking as a comrade. As a concerned friend, even.
"Severus, Harry." Came the soft, yet forceful reply. "Severus."
The Boy Who Lived's eyes narrowed in annoyance. "Fine. Severus." he hissed in response, internally registering that he had no right to give the other man any attitude. Especially when he had helped him through so much already. He sighed sadly, "I'm sorry…again. I shouldn't snap…There's a lot I shouldn't do…."
To Harry's surprise, Severus merely nodded and gave him a tiny, almost invisible, smile. "Potter…Harry…Sit down." The younger complied in silence and Severus sighed again, sitting himself directly in front of the Gryffindor. "I trust you've had time to think about…everything."
Harry nodded, and moved to speak, but found that he couldn't formulate the words.
Severus continued, "If there is anything you need to discuss with someone, confidentially, I'm willing to listen…" He allowed himself a small chuckle at the shocked look on Harry's face, "What, may I ask, is so surprising? There was a time there where we spoke on a rather…confidential level."
He was, of course, referring to the numerous conversations in which Harry would express his confusion and problems with his sexuality. This had been during the young man's 6th year, when they had been forced into a partnership of sorts, at a time where Voldemort's rise was prominent and daunting. Back then, when Harry had blurted out his confusion after taking a routine dose of Veritaserum (all members of the Order had to, to ensure that there were no spies amongst them) Severus had been compelled to explain his own 'coming out'. At the time, both had cursed the potion's effects, but had each secretly been pleased that they had someone to talk to about issues that not many understood.
Although, Severus was beginning to doubt that Harry had trusted him as much as he had trusted Harry. Callisto was only testament to his doubts.
As if reading the older man's thoughts, Harry shook his head slowly. "It's not that I'm surprised at that…It's just…I kept a fair bit from you…I've proven I'm irresponsible and I'm not capable of looking after a kid and…and…and…" By now he couldn't formulate any sentences. The tears were back and he hated himself for the moment of weakness. Forcing himself to swallow and calm down, he threw his hands up in exasperation. "And I keep breaking down like this…" He sniffled and allowed himself a woeful laugh, "I've given you a fair bit of material to use in Potions after we get back…"
This earned him a shake of the head. "It's been a while since I've attacked you or your…associates… personally, hasn't it?" Harry nodded, and attempted a smile, but it didn't reach his eyes. A silence fell between them and the mood turned sombre. Severus tilted his head to the side, "I take it they didn't know of your condition? Weasley and Granger, that is."
"Nobody did." Harry's voice cracked with emotion, "Ron would probably have disowned me…Malfoy wasn't exactly his favourite person…"
"And the know-it-all?"
A short snicker, "Hermione would have turned me into her own personal lab-rat."
"I see." Severus looked over at the baby once more, "You're going to have to explain her existence to them eventually," he said, dark eyes glued to her sleeping form.
Harry swallowed, "Yeah…I know…I just…I've had a bit of time to think about it, you know? And I was thinking-"
"Merlin, that's dangerous…Potter and thinking don't usually mix …" Severus couldn't help himself. Besides, it had elicited a smile from the young man, and that was a good sign.
"Yeah, well…" Harry fiddled with the hem of his shirt, "I thought that I wouldn't have to…"
Severus small smile faded into a scowl. "I beg your pardon?"
The Gryffindor avoided the Head of Slytherin's gaze. "I mean, you seem to get along really well with her and-"
Obsidian eyes widened in realisation and horror. "You had better not be about to suggest what I suspect you are about to suggest."
"See," Harry looked around the room. It was really well furnished. Had quite a 'homey' feel to it, despite the image that Severus usually gave off…The one he was giving off at that moment. The hostility and silent anger. "I figure you can take her and pass her off as your own and-"
"Now wait just a minute-"
"-you know how her hair is black and she has fine cheekbones and you really could state with conviction that she is yours and you found her on your doorstep 'cos some irresponsible woman that you had an affair with-"
"Dumbledore would see through that for more than the obvious reasons." Severus seethed. "He knows of my preference to men, for one. And-"
Harry locked eyes with him, "Then tell him it was a wizard. Tell him-"
"Potter." Snape hissed, then bit his lip, "Harry, do you really think he'd be gullible enough to believe it? To believe that I wouldn't contact him the second she was dropped on my doorstep? Like I should have done when you-"
"You can't!" Harry exclaimed, before clamping his own hand over his mouth. He'd forgotten that Callisto was asleep in the same room as them.
Severus rolled his eyes as the predicted whimpering started. "Tend to your daughter, Harry. Preferably before she demonstrates the strength of her lungs again."
The younger man eyed the basinet off with unmasked caution. He didn't know the first thing about babies. He could drop her. Or break her. Or…where the hell was the 'off switch'?
Once she was cradled safely in his arms, his eyes sought Severus'. "I don't know what to do with her, Sev." He fell back into the nickname that he'd only ever been allowed to use in matters of extreme importance and vulnerability. It was part of his social safety blanket. A part interwoven with Severus' own. "I don't know how to look after her. I don't know what's going to happen when I have classes. I don't know anything…I can't prepare a suitable formula…I can't-"
"I'm not taking responsibility for a child that isn't my own, Harry." Severus shook his head, "Besides, you've verbally named her with a definite decision, and the name has most likely been recorded in the book at Hogwarts, unless she is a squib, and the heir to Potter and Malfoy will definitely not be a squib."
"But I can't…I don't know what else to do…"
Snape glowered, arms folded, standing strong to his resolution. "If you are looking for pity, Potter, you are looking in the wrong place." He paused, and moved forward, "However, I am willing to assist you. I can teach you how to prepare the formula with the supplement so that any essential nutrients and whatnot that breast milk usually provides is contained within it, or can make it for you if you are not confident in your basic potions skills." He moved to sit on the couch and patted the seat beside him, "Most of your paternal instincts will begin to kick in soon and the rest should come naturally…"
Harry sat beside him, cradling the still crying infant to his chest. "But-"
"There are no 'but's, Harry. You have got to learn." Severus tilted his head to the side, observing the way that he was holding the baby. He leant forward and helped adjust the position, "As I was saying this morning, you have to be extremely careful with the head and back…"
The young father forced himself to listen intently, picking up all the pointers and such. He was trying not to concentrate so much on Severus as the words coming from Severus' mouth, as at that moment, for some strange reason, he felt attracted to the older man. And that was not a promising thing.
On the same token, Severus had noticed how much older Harry seemed than 17. At that moment he looked older, wearier and rather worn. And rightly so, after all that he had gone through. After he finished speaking, there was silence between them, only broken by the odd whimper or snuffle from the baby.
After another moment or so, Severus seemed to realise that he still had his arms around Harry's, supporting the baby between them. He pulled away quickly, then stood up, muttering something about making more formula.
Stalking away, Severus fought to remind himself that Harry was 20 years his junior.
It wasn't until he reached the kitchen that he actually asked himself why the reminder was necessary.
A/N- So far this is my favourite of all the chapters of Escapology. I have yet to pinpoint why. For those for you reading Afterglow, you'll see vague similarities between this chapter, and chapter 5 of the other. I have done it deliberately, in case you get the feeling that I'm merely being repetitive...
Anyway, let me know what you guys think.
Luv Ya,
Molvanian Queen-In-Exile.