Chapter 4- Severus
Severus knew it was going to be a dreary day before he even opened his eyes. He could hear the soft patter of rain on his window. In fact, he strongly suspected it was this that had awoken him, as the sound of rain on windows was sorely lacking in his dungeon quarters at Hogwarts.
He blinked blearily to clear the sleep from his eyes. The overcast sky made his room even darker than usual and he could not guess the hour. He didn't hear Harry up and about, though, so it was likely still quite early. Good. He had something he needed to take care of before the boy awoke.
Quietly, as only one who is used to lurking about castles can be, Severus slunk down the stairs and into the kitchen. Breakfast was usually a quiet affair at the Snape/Potter house. Harry wasn't particularly a morning person, though he rose earlier than most young men his age, and Severus had spent the last sixteen years of his life drinking his morning tea in solitude before making an appearance in the Great Hall to supervise students. That's not to say that they didn't talk to each other, but they didn't make an elaborate show of things as Severus knew other families often did–the Weasleys, for example.
But, this morning was different, and Severus wanted to start it out the right way. Quietly, he gathered the supplies he'd stocked up the other day and set himself to work. He quickly lost himself in the task, falling into the same pleasant trance he often found himself in when working in his lab.
He was startled out of it by a scruffy voice.
"Is that bacon?" Harry said, managing to look disbelieving even as he yawned, his hair an unruly mess.
"And sausages. Eggs will be done soon," Severus replied, gesturing vaguely towards the pan. "Sleep well?" he asked. The whole scene seemed sort of sickenly domestic, but Severus was enjoying himself nevertheless.
"Sure. But–"
Severus placed a cup of tea onto the table where Harry usually sat. Harry folded himself into his seat almost automatically, picking up his cup and taking a drink, not bothering to finish his sentence. Severus turned back to the stove, flicking his wand to turn off the burner and sliding the eggs off onto a waiting plate. With another wave of his wand, the plates assembled themselves and floated the short distance from the stove to the table. Harry watched the whole thing with a sort of confused look on his face.
"Sorry, have I missed something? You don't usually make breakfast," Harry said.
"I should think my motivations would be rather obvious," Severus replied with a drawl. He raised an eyebrow at Harry.
"I don't know what you mean," Harry replied quickly, his eyes darting to the side as he took another sip of his tea. Severus sighed in the long-suffering way that was quickly becoming familiar to them both.
"You're being deliberately obtuse. Why?"
"I don't know–"
"Stop saying that. Yes, you do. I know you've been spending a lot of time hiding out under trees with Miss Weasley, but surely you haven't completely lost track of the date."
"I don't see what that should have to do with anything."
Severus looked at him with an imperiously raised eyebrow. He suspected this particular date hadn't been notable for Harry in the past, but he hadn't prepared himself for this level of deflection. It was as if the boy was pathologically unable to accept that good things could happen to a person on their birthday. He tamped down viciously on his rising frustration and schooled his features into something more pleasant. He extended his hand across the table and rested it on Harry's arm, regarding his son with what he hoped was a look of understanding and acceptance, though he still wasn't accustomed to such visages.
The raging fury at one Petunia Dursley he kept locked firmly behind a wall of occlumency that even the Dark Lord had been unable to breach.
"Stop," he said, surprising himself with how gentle his voice was. "Let's try this again, shall we? Good morning, Harry. Happy seventeenth birthday! I made you breakfast to celebrate."
Severus watched as Harry seemed to fight with himself. He gave him all the time he needed. Finally, a fragile smile came across Harry's face. Severus smiled back, the feeling still a little foreign, but growing more comfortable by the day. His reward was immediate as Harry's smile strengthened and a weight seemed lifted off of Severus's heart.
"Cheers," Harry finally said, spearing a sausage with his fork and dragging it onto his plate.
Severus nodded and began to fill his own plate.
"I assume this sort of birthday reception is not what you are used to?" he asked after a moment.
Harry paused in his chewing for a second and his eyes darted away again. Severus worried that he'd taken a step too far. Harry's treatment by the Dursleys was a topic they tiptoed around like the a cauldron full of acid. Harry finished his bite and swallowed heavily, avoiding Severus's eyes as he answered.
"Er…no. Not exactly." Harry paused. "Well, actually, my eleventh birthday was pretty okay. The Dursleys were running around like mad, scanning for owls, trying to dodge my Hogwarts letter. Have I told you about this?"
Severus shook his head in the negative. Harry leaned forward in his seat, suddenly eager.
Harry proceeded to regale Severus with an increasingly dramatic tale involving a veritable flock of owls, an explosion of letters, a decrepit hut in the middle of the sea, and Hagrid waving around that awful pink umbrella he thought fooled people into thinking he didn't actually have a wand. Severus knew the outcome of the tale, of course. Harry obviously received his letter and came to Hogwarts, but the story itself was a rare look into Harry's life before they met. He also didn't usually recount tales from his time at Hogwarts, probably thinking that Severus didn't need to be told, as he was present for the majority of them, albeit in an antagonistic role which often made it hard for him to see the other side of the story. This tale, though, was supremely educational.
Mostly he learned that the Dursleys were even bigger piles of dragon dung than he'd already made them out to be. He also learned, painfully, how much the legacy of their mistreatment would stick with Harry. Listening to the boy lay out, matter-of-factly, the lengths they had gone to to prevent him from taking ownership of his magical heritage was enough to make Severus want to storm over there right now and curse them into next Tuesday, statute of secrecy and muggle protection laws be absolutely damned.
But, it was the boy's birthday, so he refrained. And besides, there was always tomorrow.
Harry, having gotten started on a story, seemed unable to stop. He shifted from his first time in Diagon Alley, to the first time he flooed with the Weasleys and accidentally ended up in Knockturn Alley, which then transitioned into the extended stay in The Leaky Cauldron before his third year. Severus finished eating his breakfast sometime around the moment Arthur Weasley told Harry not to go looking for trouble and he nearly scoffed into his tea, managing at the last moment to cover his reaction by clearing his throat instead. Harry was truly on a roll now, though, and Severus doubted he even noticed. Harry picked at his food, eating between stories. Severus cast nonverbal warming charms towards Harry's plate and mug multiple times, content to sit back and listen to his son fill in the gaps of their life together.
He could happily have done this all day, but at last, Harry seemed to be running out of steam. Severus watched as he slowed down, an embarrassed flush coming into his cheeks as he realized how much he had shared.
"Sorry," he said, rubbing at the back of his neck. Harry's tells really were too easy. How did this boy ever get away with anything?
"Don't be. I quite enjoyed listening to you."
"Well I didn't mean to take up the whole morning. I'm sure you have…things to do."
Severus shrugged.
"Nothing pressing."
"Oh. Well."
"Actually," Severus continued, rising from the table and putting Harry out of his misery, "I had something I wanted to give you."
He waved for Harry to follow him as they made their way into the sitting room. Severus lazily flicked his wand and the curtains opened, giving them a view of the rainy sea. The waves crashed hungrily against the shore and the grey clouds swirled away into the horizon. The tall grasses across the street rippled in the wind and rain ran in rivulets down the panes of glass. He was wrong before when he'd thought the day was dreary. There was beauty in this darkness.
He shook himself out of his thoughts and flicked on the lamp in the corner. He waved his wand again and a moment later a package soared around the corner. He caught it deftly. He placed it on the table then sat himself on the sofa. Harry dropped down next to him with the enthusiasm appropriate to a seventeen year old receiving a present on his birthday. Severus smiled to himself.
It didn't last, though. Harry simply couldn't be a child for more than 3 consecutive seconds. The enthusiasm faded and Harry looked at him tentatively, as if asking permission– permission which he granted immediately with a nod of his head.
Harry opened the wrapping with his usual care, setting aside the decorative paper and regarding the box. He turned it over and over in his hands, peering at it closely, pressing his fingers against the seams. Finally he looked at Severus.
"How do I open it?"
"Perhaps the use of your wand would help," he suggested.
Harry's eyebrows rose and his mouth made an o shape as he remembered. He was seventeen now. He could use his wand. He smiled widely as he set the box back on the table and pulled his wand out of this back pocket. He pointed his wand at the box and said, "Alohamora."
Nothing happened. Harry furrowed his brow.
"It isn't locked. It's sealed. You can't unseal something with an unlocking spell," Severus suggested.
"Hermione does it all the time," Harry said with a shrug.
"Miss Granger defies all logic."
"I'm going to tell her you said that."
"Do. And while you're at it, please do ask her why she relies on a first year charm instead of utilizing the more commonly used Apertum?"
"I don't remember that one."
"You should have learned it in your fourth year."
"Well there's your answer, then. I kept getting pulled out of classes to do interviews and to prepare for the tournament. I probably missed it."
"Well then you shall have to learn it now. It is straightforward. A jabbing motion with your wand and the incantation: apertum."
Harry pointed his wand at the box, jabbed it forward, and said, "Apertum." The box fell open and lay flat on the table. Harry looked at the contents at first with confusion, but Severus watched as comprehension slowly spread across Harry's face. A knot twisted in his stomach and he looked down and away.
"Traditionally, on a coming-of-age birthday, a wizard is given some memento or heirloom, something to welcome him into the family," Severus said to the floor. "I have no such gifts to bestow. My father was a muggle factory worker and had no use for such things and whatever my mother may have had he stole and sold to buy whiskey. So, lacking all else, I have given you the only thing I have left which is of any value to me."
Severus was not known for his cowardice. Oh, certainly he cultivated an appropriate appearance of deferment and submission when standing amongst the ranks in service of the Dark Lord, but it was all a charade. It wasn't real. But even Severus couldn't convince himself that what he was feeling now was anything other than what it was–fear.
He had felt fear before, of course. Many times, in fact. Recently, even. But those events were always big, life-or-death things. The fear itself was crushed under the chemical weight of adrenaline and the spiritual burden of purpose and he became its master. So, there was no reason, none whatsoever, that this moment should have him practically quivering in apprehension. No reason that he shouldn't be able to look his son in the eyes. But for all he was worth, he couldn't lift them from the carpet. He was terrified of what he would see in those emerald eyes that were so, so much like Lily's, and yet somehow still uniquely Harry's. He didn't want to see what he knew would be there.
Anger. Hurt. Shame. Rejection.
A sharp, shaky inhale from the boy next to him broke through his mental barricade and the haze that he hadn't even noticed creeping in at the edges of his vision quickly receded. Almost against his will, his head snapped up and his eyes locked onto Harry's face. Severus's fear flew out the window at the sight of a silent tear dripping off the side of Harry's jaw.
Harry still held Severus's gift in one hand, but the other had pushed up over his face, his palm over his mouth and his thumb and forefinger slid under his glasses to press into his eyes, which were tightly shut. Tears ran over his hand and down the sides of his face. The hand holding the gift began to shake.
Severus reached out and took it from him, setting it gently on the table. At Severus's touch, Harry scrubbed his hand over his face and removed his glasses, swiping at his eyes uselessly. He gestured at the table.
"Do you really mean that?"
"If you are amenable."
"Amenable? Are you joking right now?"
"It has been a mere handful of months. You are a grown wizard. You have made a name for yourself and are quite famous for it. There are countless other factors that could give you pause. I would not fault you for any of them."
Harry swiped at his eyes again, and Severus could see he was agitated. The knot in his stomach tightened, but he kept a hold on his emotions. Barely.
What had happened to him? He used to be able to stand in front of a murderous psychopath and lie without a twinge of trepidation, but now, the thought of being rejected by the teenager on his couch had reduced him to a pile of trembling emotions. It was as disgusting as it was delicious and Severus couldn't have walked away from it if he'd been given all of James Potter's not-insignificant wealth. Damn it all.
"We talked about this already. At the start of summer. Did I not seem amenable then?" Harry questioned harshly. "Didn't we fill out the guardianship forms together?"
"What I failed to mention at the time, given it was quite irrelevant then as you needed to live under this roof to maintain blood protections, was that over the last five years, Dumbledore has had to suppress three separate guardianship petitions by Arthur and Molly Weasley. The need for you to live with a blood relative was paramount, as far as Dumbledore was concerned. Now that you're seventeen and no longer required to live here, I wondered if this was where you'd truly wish to be, were you given the choice."
Harry looked at him blankly, his face devoid of emotion. There was a beat of silence before Severus continued.
Merlin, was he babbling nervously? For the love of–
"And quite apart from that, we never discussed…this." He gestured vaguely to the stack of parchment on the counter upon which the seal of Wizarding Family Services glowed in a garish teal color atop a stack of triplicate forms. "Claiming you as my son and petitioning to legally change your name are not the same thing. It hasn't been finalized yet. Your signature is required. However, if it is something you want, we can have it officially filed by the end of the day."
Harry's stare still did not waver. Severus began to wonder if he'd somehow scarred the boy. Perhaps asking him to become Harry Snape instead of Harry Potter had been a bridge too far. Yet, when he'd sat agonizing over what to give his son, the only child he would ever have, for his coming-of-age, he kept circling back to the problem of legacy. How could he leave one for Harry if he didn't even bear his name? And the more he thought about it, the more he longed for it. Longed for his only son, the only good thing he even had in this world, to truly be his. To be a Snape.
He'd never thought he'd have a family. Perhaps he'd entertained the notion briefly with Lily, but when she had died, the wisps of that idea had died with her. He was content that there would be no little Snapes running around glaring at people. And a part of him thought that perhaps it was for the best. Tobias Snape was certainly not a paragon of fatherhood, and Severus Snape wasn't likely to be either. Did the world really need more Snapes messing up the place? Hadn't he shunned the name himself, in his youth?
But now that Harry existed, and he seemed to be made of the most troublesome parts of himself combined with the absolute best parts of Lily, he thought maybe having just one more Snape wouldn't be the worst thing. And if Harry lived through this and had a family of his own, then perhaps, someday, the name wouldn't be associated with deadbeats and failures, but with heroism and goodness.
And he hoped it would be good for Harry, too. He hoped it would allow him to come out of the shadow of James and Lily Potter's heroic sacrifice and truly learn to be his own self. He hoped it would give him a sense of belonging and connection. He hoped it would show him that he truly was loved.
These were the reasons he repeated to himself over and over until his pride finally stopped preening and took a backseat to his altruism. Or at least that's what he hoped was true. There was always a small chance that he hadn't done this for Harry at all, but for himself. What better way to leave his mark on the world than to have the greatest magical threat of this time eliminated by Harry Snape? But he hoped, desperately, that for once in his life his pride hadn't led him astray.
Please, just once.
"You know," Harry said quietly, "I didn't even know my own name until I started school. I thought my name was 'Freak,' or maybe "Boy." But then my teacher called out the roll and when she called 'Harry Potter' nobody raised their hand. At the end, she'd marked everyone else off the list except for me, so she looked at me and asked me if my name was Harry Potter. I shook my head, so she asked me what my name was, but I couldn't answer. I think I knew that Freak and Boy weren't real names. While we ate lunch, she called my aunt and asked her and that's when I learned that my name really was Harry Potter. I remember it so clearly, even though I was really little, maybe only four or so. But my teacher thought I was truly stupid from then on out, and it sort of set the tone for the rest of my time at that school. Plus, I got into massive trouble with Uncle Vernon when I got home. Then, when I started Hogwarts and learned that everyone knew my name, it was awful. Didn't anybody understand how unfair it was that the whole wizarding world knew my name from 31 October, 1981 and I didn't even know it until 1 September, 1984?"
Harry took a shuddering breath and continued.
"After they died, nobody ever wanted me. The Dursleys tried to hide me, and then they couldn't get rid of me fast enough. It's great to know that the Weasleys wanted me, but they've got seven other kids, so what's one more, really? And I never would have fit in there. Not really. I don't know how to be with that many people all the time. And, honestly, if it wasn't for the red hair, before this year, I probably wouldn't have been able to pick Bill or Charlie out of a crowd, and what sort of brother would that have made me? But you and I, for all the awfulness of the past five years, sort of make sense. I like it here. It's quiet and comfortable, without feeling solitary or lonely. I love spending the day with Ginny and Ron and the rest, but coming back here at night and having tea in the morning with you…I feel more peaceful than I usually do when I'm with them in the summer."
Suddenly, Harry's eyes pierced Severus's own.
"And you keep forgetting that I love you. I'm pants at saying it, probably because it's sort of a new thing for me and it still feels weird when I say it, and probably most boys my age have stopped saying it when I've only just started, so that's even weirder, but it's true. I guess I should tell you more often so you'll stop forgetting." He pointed aggressively down at the stack of papers. "If you want this, and I mean really want this, then I do, too."
"Why wouldn't I want this?" Severus asked, surprised at the weakness in his voice.
Harry scoffed out a sarcastic laugh and tossed his hands into the air.
"Oh, I don't know. Maybe because I'm either going to die or become a murderer?"
"They wouldn't call you a murderer. They would call you a hero."
"Well, pardon me if I don't trust the word of the people who, a year ago, were calling me deranged. Either way, I come with a lot of baggage. And if I accept this, it won't be a dead man's name getting dragged through the mud, it'll be yours."
"My name is worth very little as it is, Harry. Truly, the gift is not as magnanimous as you might think. The reality of the situation is such that over time you would actually lose the prestige bearing the Potter name currently affords you."
"I absolutely do not care about prestige."
"Someday you may."
"Someday the Snape name may be worth just as much as the Potter name is today. But not if it dies with you. Also, are you trying to convince me not to accept the gift you gave me?"
"Are you trying to convince me that I did not truly wish to give it?"
"Well…yeah. I think I am."
"Then you may desist. I have devoted much thought to this, and I assure you, my only hesitation was that perhaps it would not be something you would want, though it is something I very much do."
"Well, so do I. The paternity papers we submitted earlier this summer, those were great, and I am really glad that we did that, but we should have done this then, too. 'Harry Potter' is a lie." Harry shrugged. "I'd rather be Harry Snape."
Severus sighed and rubbed at his forehead, pressing against the spot where he knew a headache would soon bloom.
"Why did you not mention this to me then? Much headache could have been avoided."
Harry shrugged again.
"Hermione says I'm bad at communicating."
"Once again, Miss Granger proves her intelligence."
Harry rubbed the back of his neck. "Plus, I really did mean all that other stuff earlier. I really don't think you've thought this through. This will not be good for you. Also, what about my middle name?"
"Nothing that has transpired in my life has been good for me except you…and you've nearly gotten me killed more than anyone else. And you may keep your middle name. Though we had our…disagreements, James Potter died protecting you and Lily. He loved you both very much. It is only fair that he should retain some of the honor for that. Unless you wish to change it."
"No. No, I think I should keep it as it is. Actually, what's your middle name?"
"Tobias. After my father. I would rather not name you after him, if it's all the same to you."
"No, that's fine. James works. Harry James Snape."
Severus sort of thought it sounded strange to have James's name right up against his, but in a way it was also fitting. He'd found it harder and harder to hold up his petty grudge in the face of James Potter's ultimate sacrifice. Even though he thought Harry was his own son, Severus knew that he owed Harry's life to James's actions. When he looked at it that way, well, it added a bit of perspective. Maybe it was time for him to let go of childish grudges and move on. For the sake of his son.
"It's settled, then."
Severus smiled and was rewarded when Harry gave him one in return. His heart beat erratically in his chest and he felt what he suspected was a tear forming in the corner of his right eye. He reached forward and pulled Harry into a hug before the tear could fall. Harry returned it with his usual awkwardness, though Severus privately felt that they were getting better at this. Showing affection.
Perhaps Harry was right and he was becoming a hugger. Salazar's sack. Don't tell the werewolf. He'd never get the stupid grin off Remus's bedraggled mug.
Severus and Harry separated and Severus watched in mild bemusement as Harry's summoned quill came zooming around the corner. He signed the papers with his typical messy scrawl and slid the stack over to Severus. With a wave of his wand, they folded themselves into a neat little square, which Harry tied neatly to Hedwig's leg. The snowy owl took off with a cheerful hoot, pleased to be carrying a letter after a summer of relative uselessness.
And just like that, the Snape/Potter home officially became just the Snape home. Severus wished desperately that Lily was here to see it. But the melancholy touched him both more and less than it usually did. Something about Harry's presence dampened the blow of her absence, even as it reminded him more keenly of the hole she left behind. For the first time in sixteen years, Severus felt her loss, but he no longer felt alone. It was revolutionary. It was beautiful. It was addictive.
Life with Harry had become that way. Addictive. He had never understood parents before. The way they doted on their children seemed…distasteful. His own parents certainly never seemed particularly attached to him, so when he saw that attachment in others, he was baffled. But he understood now. Fully.
There was nothing he would not do for his son.
He had missed so much. He had caused so much pain. He had been certain Harry would want nothing to do with him, and he'd thought he would be fine with that. But thank Merlin that Harry was Lily's son, that he had given Severus another chance, just like Lily always did. He was determined, this time, not to bungle it up, because it meant more to him than he ever thought it would.
He'd made his kitchen into a bloody domestic nightmare this morning, after all. And he'd enjoyed it. He rolled his eyes to the heavens in a silent gesture of ironic amusement and tucked his maudlin thoughts away into a corner of his mind.
This was Harry's day, after all, and there would be time for melancholic reflection later. Perhaps he'd invite Harry. It seemed to be a hobby they shared.
In the meantime, though, he would play a game of chess with his son, perhaps work on a potion or two, then journey to The Burrow to join the Weasley family in celebrating Harry's coming-of-age. The party would probably be a bit too wild and loud for his liking, but the joy on Harry's face would be worth it. And at the end of the day, Severus Snape and his son, Harry Snape, would come back here, to the home and the life that they had created together. Nothing could be better than that.
A/N: Short, but sweet. Back to the action in the next chapter!
