Thank you for reading! I don't own any of Harry Potter! Please let me know if you enjoy! Updates every Saturday!
—
Mother Hen invited Father Raven to her home for dinner the following Thursday at seven o' clock in the evening.
That afternoon, Severus spent two entire hours quelling his mind-numbing apprehension by attempting to make himself as presentable as possible.
He washed and combed his hair until it framed his face and hung around the tops of his shoulders in feathery, black strands. He bathed, brushed his teeth, polished his shoes, and used a cleaning spell to press his usual, dark robes.
When Severus finished, he still felt like something was lacking, and so, on his way to Mother Hen's, he stopped by Diagon Alley's best florist.
Severus was well acquainted with the language of flowers. He chose what went into the bouquet he purchased based on the meaning of the blossoms, not their colors, or how their different hues complimented one another.
Campanulas for gratitude.
Violets for watchfulness.
Gardenias for secret affection~.
Once Severus had his carefully curated gift in hand, he left the florist and completed his journey to Mother Hen's nest, which, as he discovered, was a small cottage on the outskirts of Hogsmeade.
As he knocked on the humble dwelling's wooden door, he glanced around, and deemed the location preferable.
It was safe, it was nondescript, and it was conveniently close to his own home at Hogwarts.
Severus couldn't help but think of the possibilities that that may accommodate.
His musings were called to an abrupt and unwelcome end when the wooden door swung open.
Father Raven came face to face with Mother Hen.
Severus's dark eyes widened at who he saw staring back at him from inside the cottage.
Short, with long, reddish-brown hair, and bright, green eyes…..a familiar face.
A face that was a little too familiar, actually.
"H-Headmaster Snape…" Harriet Potter stammered as she stared at her former schoolmaster. She blinked as she wondered why he was standing on her front stoop with a bouquet of flowers in his arms, "W-What a surprise….."
Harriet didn't yet understand what Severus instantly determined as his stomach dropped into the soles of his feet.
Truthfully, as Harriet frowned at Severus from behind her round glasses, the idea that he was Father Raven was so preposterous that it hadn't even entered her mind yet.
A stony look of grim realization clouded Severus's features as his dark eyes flickered towards Harriet's abdomen. The Potter omega was slight and her figure was petite. She was so petite, in fact, that while she was still only in the early stages, her pregnancy was noticeable under the fabric of the silky robes that clothed her.
Severus sighed softly while Harriet continued to try and rationalize a reason for his visit besides the obvious notion that she dared not acknowledge.
"Sir?" Harriet asked, "Is…...is there something I can…..do for you? You seem to be headed somewhere." Harriet asked as she nodded to the flowers in Severus's arms.
"...I've already reached my destination, Potter." Severus replied in a rich tone that was so low it was barely audible.
He watched the color drain from Harriet's fair face as he went on, "These flowers are for Mother Hen and Fledgling, that's who I've come to visit. I received a dinner invitation to this address at seven tonight."
Harriet gasped sharply in pure surprise. A hand instinctively flew to cover the slight curve of her belly so quickly that Severus was offended by the hastiness of the motion.
Did she think that he intended to harm her or her unborn?
Their unborn?
"N-no…." Harriet stammered, "T-that…...that can't be true!"
"Oh, but it is, Potter." Severus replied curtly. His black eyes were full of sincerity as he solemnly informed her, "I…... am Father Raven."
—-
Severus and Harriet were at a stalemate as he stood on her front stoop and she stared out at him in complete and utter disbelief.
Neither of them were pleased with what they had learned, and the situation was made worse by the unignorable inconvenience that neither of them knew what to say or do next.
After several moments slowly and painfully passed, Severus held out the bouquet, waited for Harriet to grab it, and as soon as she did, he turned on his heel and walked away.
His black robes flowed elegantly behind him as he trudged down the street.
Severus wasn't sure what he would prefer to do, scream or cry, but it was almost unbearable, the way that his new dream, his last dream, had just been dashed to pieces in front of him.
That stupid, stupid-
"So that's it, then?!" Harriet called out to the surly alpha as she watched him go.
Harriet Potter was in shock that Severus Snape's offspring was growing inside her, yes, but the facts were the facts. She had already bonded with the life that she carried. The baby's paternity didn't make her love her little one any less, but for some reason, she was filled with rage at Father Raven's reaction, no matter his true identity.
Severus hadn't known that he had any other option available besides leaving.
He stopped in his tracks when he heard Harriet call out to him.
Slowly, he turned back around to look at her.
Severus gave Harriet an unreadable stare as he responded, "I assumed that you would want it no other way."
"I've already prepared dinner." Harriet called back, "Because I assumed that I wouldn't be eating alone."
Severus blinked at Harriet and she blinked back at him.
Hesitantly, as if he were afraid that she would scream at him to flee from her, Severus took a step towards Harriet.
He watched her closely as he walked back to her small cottage and once he came to the door, she stepped to the side and allowed him to enter her home.
Severus remained silent as he swept past Harriet, however, he did throw her one more incredulous glance.
When he did though, it startled him to see how vividly green her eyes seemed as she gazed back.
In that moment, Severus understood that Mother Hen was just as bewildered and as shaken by the truth as Father Raven.
—
In silence, Harriet guided Severus through the short entry way of her cottage and into the area that comprised her living room, dining room, and kitchen.
The decorations and the layout almost looked like something out of a children's fairytale book.
Severus himself was surprised that Harriet Potter had chosen something so…..quaint…..in favor of more lavish lodgings, but he kept his musings on the subject to himself.
It wasn't his place to comment on Mother Hen's nest.
Harriet served the dinner she had prepared and they sat next to each other while they ate in a tense quiet.
Severus hadn't had a more socially uncomfortable meal since his days of serving Voldemort and even then, at least some of his old friends had been present.
That particular evening, it was only Severus, Harriet, and the sobering truth of the unborn child that they had unwittingly created together.
Harriet had cooked meat and vegetables.
The meal was simple, but Severus seemed to enjoy it nonetheless.
Harriet watched him eat as closely as he watched her.
Finally, Severus worked up the nerve to speak and he asked in a low, dry tone, "...Why?"
"I beg your pardon?" Harriet replied.
"Why?" Severus repeated as his black eyes flickered again to the subtle outline of the reason Mother Hen and Father Raven had began their exchange of letters in the first place.
Harriet didn't feel that it was any of Severus's business, but she chose to answer him anyway, "I…..I got tired of being alone. I haven't found a mate, and since I'm a single mother, I found it nearly impossible to adopt a child."
Severus scoffed, "How very...surprising…I would imagine the famous Harriet Potter has no trouble finding lovers."
"That's my problem." Harriet sighed, "The only reason why anyone wants to be…...with me…...is because of my name. No one's interested in me as a person. The war's over….the war's over…..I just want to move on."
Severus frowned at Harriet's words.
He remembered her as a petulant student with an attraction to mischief.
He had viewed her as a thorn in his side.
The Potter girl had been a constant reminder to Severus of what he had lost and what could have been…..but as he sat there that evening and listened to her speak as an adult, he felt a pang of guilt.
Severus realized that he too had committed the crimes of which Harriet accused others.
To Severus, Harriet had been the daughter of the dead woman he loved and his fallen nemesis.
He had despised her for her mother's death.
He had eventually come to fault her when his feelings changed by the end of the war, but instead of reaching out, Severus had descended back into the lonely seclusion to which he was accustomed.
As they sat there in Harriet's cottage that evening, Severus learned that apparently, Harriet's life after the war hadn't been all that different.
"I should ask you the same question." Harriet said as she broke Severus's reverent silence.
He scowled at her and she elaborated, "I didn't imagine you were the type of person to leave…...pieces...of yourself for others to find."
"It wasn't my choice." Severus huffed as he looked down at his almost empty plate, "When I was a bit younger than you, the Dark Lord ordered me to take a wife. I hesitated and he allowed me another alternative."
Harriet frowned while she resumed eating.
She couldn't very well argue with that, but she found no fault with herself.
They had only revealed basic characteristics about her donor at St. Mungo's.
Tall, genetically healthy, intelligent…...that was all Harriet had known about the anonymous father of her child.
"I…..I had no idea." Harriet stammered.
"Of course you didn't." Severus replied.
His answer was quick but his tone was softer than Harriet had expected.
"...Are you angry?" Harriet asked.
Severus glanced up and met her gaze.
He felt like he was seeing her for the first time as she frowned sympathetically at him with those green eyes that reminded him so much of…
"No." Severus replied, "Since I learned that my fragment had gone to use, I was….surprised and curious, but I was never angry….and I am still not."
The rest of their dreadful dinner passed by in a very awkward silence.
Once the table was cleaned and the dishes were washed, Severus murmured an abrupt, ill-timed word of thanks to Harriet and took his leave, not wanting to trouble her any further.
Soon afterwards, he arrived back at his office, grit his teeth, and closed his eyes in anguish.
Of all the witches who could have used the sample from his loins, why did that witch have to be Harriet Potter?!
—
Harriet was as dismayed as Severus.
After she processed the initial, emotional devastation that she endured when she learned Severus was the father of her baby, she couldn't help but feel bitter disappointment.
Three days after their uncomfortable dinner together, Harriet had heard nothing from the brooding alpha.
She laid a hand on her small belly whenever she thought back to the words Severus had used at the table.
Curious.
He had been curious.
After his curiosity was satisfied, he was finished.
He had always hated her for her own paternity, which was a circumstance that she couldn't control any more than the child that rested within her.
Harriet hadn't wanted anything from the father, Severus, or whoever it may have been, and she didn't need anything.
Let him vanish.
Harriet had pursued single motherhood in hopes of having a family, but she had given up on the idea of finding a mate.
—
Those three days were the longest of Severus's life.
He agonized to the point of sleeplessness over his dilemma.
There was no way that Potter was going to allow him to be a part of the child's life, and due to the unconventional nature of its conception, in the laws of the wizarding world, Severus had no parental rights that he could legally pursue.
After days of no rest, days of eating the bare minimum to stay alive, days of internal torment, Severus visited a children's shop in Hogsmeade, made a purchase, and wrote one last letter to Mother Hen.
After his quill had dotted the last "i" and crossed the last "t" on the parchment, he sealed the letter, and sent it along with a small box on one of Hogwarts' owls.
Severus watched the bird fly away before he sat down at the large desk in his office and sighed.
He hoped that his letter expressed what he had been unable to at the dinner table that night in Potter's cottage.
—
Mother Hen,
It pains me that you did not find my true identity pleasing when I visited you. I was afraid of such and that's why I've neglected to sign my name to these communications. I had been hopeful that perhaps our circumstances would be different. I had been hopeful that a hen and a raven may learn to live in peaceful tolerance of each other, but with the history behind us, I understand your feelings in regards to our situation. I humbly ask of you one humble favor to oblige, if you will? Tell our fledgling that his or her father wishes only the best for them. Perhaps, if you are willing, you may tell them who Father Raven is at some point in their life? I cannot force your decision on the matter. If you or fledgling are ever in any trouble, you know where to find me.
Father Raven
Harriet sat on the sofa in her small cottage that evening as her shoulders shook with bitter sobs while Severus's letter sat in front of her on the coffee table.
She looked down at the open box in her lap from Father Raven.
The plush dragon inside made her weep even more forcefully.
Harriet still sniffled an hour later as she penned her reply before she crawled into bed and cried herself to sleep.
—
Severus's heart hadn't felt that light in years as he read over Mother Hen's response.
Response~.
Severus had thought that he would never hear from her again, but less than a full day after he sent his most recent letter and the toy he had bought for fledgling, he had received an answer.
Father Raven,
Thank you very much for fledgling's gift. I have a healer's appointment on Friday afternoon. The woman is discreet, don't worry. It's above the wand shop in Diagon alley at five in the evening. I'll have my first look at fledgling then, please feel welcome to join me there.
Mother Hen
Severus's heart pounded so hard in his chest that he grew dizzy.
The letter's words were refreshingly reassuring.
Please feel welcome…
Join me there…..
Perhaps he may come to know his child after all.
At least Potter, or, Mother Hen, was willing to give him that chance.
