Chapter 5- Harry
Harry reached his arm down into the bottom of the basket and felt around, frowning to himself. Was that it? Or, no wait– there!
He pulled his arm out triumphantly, only to frown again as he tossed the offending garment on the floor. Not the one he was looking for. He bent over the hamper again but was startled out of his search by a knock at his half-open door.
"Come in!" he called out, still shoulder-deep in his laundry basket. "Hey, have you seen my green shirt? The one with the pocket?"
"Can't say I have," replied the voice at the door. Harry straightened and whirled around in surprise.
"Remus!" he greeted with a smile. "I wasn't expecting you."
"As I can see from the state of your room. I'm surprised Severus tolerates such a mess," Remus teased.
"Er…he doesn't, really." Harry replied, running his hand up the back of his head. "Honestly it's not usually this bad. It's just that I wanted to wear this particular shirt, but I can't find it."
"Ah. Well, when I can't find something, I usually just summon it." Remus's smile was a little mischievous.
"Right," Harry breathed. He kept forgetting about using his wand. What sort of wizard was he, anyway? He waved it and said, "Accio green shirt."
Instantly, the shirt he had been searching for flew out of his wardrobe and into his waiting hand. Unexpectedly, he was also bombarded by two other green shirts, which he quickly banished back into his hamper with a wave of his wand. He grinned as he brandished the shirt at Remus, then swapped it with the one he'd been wearing earlier. When his head popped through the hole, he saw that Remus was already tidying up the mess.
"What's so special about this particular shirt?" Remus questioned as he took a seat in Harry's reading chair, displacing the latest Quidditch Weekly to do so.
Harry felt the heat rising in his cheeks, but he shrugged nonchalantly.
"Nothing," he said. "I just like it."
"Hmm." Remus hummed, knowingly. "I guess it has nothing to do with how it makes your eyes look even greener than usual. I'm sure there's no one at the Weasley house that would care about such things."
Harry threw a pillow at him. Remus caught it with a laugh. Harry scowled.
"Listen, it's not that I don't appreciate your visit," Harry said, "but I thought I wasn't going to see you until tonight at The Burrow."
"Well, I had something I wanted to give you first and your dad said I could come up and give it to you before you head out."
Harry quirked his head to the side and regarded Remus shrewdly.
"Does it bother you to refer to Severus as my dad?" he asked, quietly.
Remus looked back at him earnestly.
"Honestly?"
Harry nodded.
"No," Remus continued with a shrug. "Severus is your dad. Every day, he proves that a little more. I may not have liked him in school, and he can still be unpleasant sometimes now, but that doesn't make him any less your father. Besides that, the more I see the two of you, the more I can see how happy you both are."
"Did he tell you what he was going to do for my birthday? The name thing?"
"No. What name thing?"
"I'm changing my name. Officially. I'll be Harry Snape now."
Remus's smile widened.
"Really?"
"Yeah."
"Are you happy about this?"
"Yeah, actually. It's kind of nice."
"It's very nice. I'm excited for you."
"Are you? I was worried about how you'd feel, since James was one of your best friends and I'm giving up his name."
"I am! I think it's wonderful that you're forming a new family, and I think sharing a last name will help it feel more real and permanent."
"But James–"
"Isn't here. I lived many years of my life wallowing in what I should have done or what could have been different, and in the end, it didn't change what had already happened and it prevented me from taking action when I should have. So, I don't know how he'd feel about all this, and I don't know what side of the line I'd be standing on if he were here. But it doesn't matter, because he isn't here. You are, and Severus is, so that's where I'm choosing to stand, too. And besides that, James Potter wasn't your dad, so there's no reason for you to keep his last name. I fully support this, Harry. Really. Now, did I apparate over here to have deeply emotional conversations on your birthday, or did I apparate over here to give you a present?"
"Both?"
"Yeah, you're probably right. But the clock's ticking, and I know there's at least one redhead you're itching to see, so I'm gonna keep this show moving along, if that's all right with you."
"Sure."
"Excellent," said Remus, rising to stand in front of him. "Hold out your hand."
Harry lifted his hand and held it out towards Remus, who gripped it and turned it over, palm up. He waved his wand over it and a small round mirror fell into his palm. Harry knew immediately what it was. He'd smashed one only a year before, after all.
He tried not to let his emotions show on his face, but he was clearly still terrible at this, because Remus reached out and gripped his other hand, bringing his own face down to Harry's level. A part of Harry was interested to note that he didn't have to bend very far at all.
"I know Sirius gave you one of these. I found his with his things after…well…after. I also know you don't have your other one anymore. And that's okay. These are new. I made them myself. In fact, I'm the one that made the old ones, so it was a bit of a walk down memory lane. I made a half dozen or so." He dropped Harry's hand to wave his wand and deposit a small stack of identical mirrors on Harry's bookshelf. "You can give them out to whomever you want, and if you need more, I can make them, provided you bring me at least one, so I can link the charms. And they've got some security charms and a bit of other stuff on them that I can explain to you later." Remus paused. "Is this okay? I can take them away if it's too difficult. I do have a backup gift planned, if this is too much."
Harry had a bit of a lump in his throat, but he recognized the work that Remus had put into this gift, so he swallowed it down and nodded. Remus didn't look fooled, but Harry could see the same sort of bittersweetness in his expression that Harry also felt. The gift reminded Harry of Sirius, but he couldn't deny that a stack of communication mirrors was a pretty amazing thing to receive. As far as he understood, these mirrors were a unique form of communication developed and used solely by the Marauders. For Remus to give him not one, but as many as he wanted, was a pretty cool thing. He felt a little smile begin to spread across his face.
"No, they're fine," he said aloud. "Great, actually."
Remus smiled. "Wonderful. Your backup gift was much less cool than this, anyway. Let me show you how these work."
Remus helped Harry activate his mirror and smiled brightly when Harry immediately gifted one of the others to him. Soon enough, though, he was giving Harry's shoulder a squeeze and promising to see him soon, before apparating away.
Harry and Severus soon followed. Harry technically wasn't allowed to Apparate yet, as he hadn't taken his licensing test, but his dad didn't say anything about it, so he took that as his quiet permission to do it anyway. He popped into place in the Weasley's front gate and quickly took stock.
"I trust you arrived in one piece?" his dad asked.
"Seems like it," Harry replied.
Severus just nodded in response as Ginny threw open the front door and beamed at him from across the yard.
"Happy birthday!" she yelled as she ran towards him, catching him in a hug. She immediately pulled back and kissed him on the lips swiftly, but firmly. His stomach swooped a bit at the contact, but she pulled away quickly and the sensation passed. He gripped her hand as she led him back towards The Burrow where he could already see a crowd gathering to greet him. She glanced back at him with her infectious smile and he laughed.
As soon as he got to the house he was engulfed in one of Mrs. Weasley's bone-crushing hugs, but even the threat of suffocation couldn't wipe the grin off his face. His birthday wasn't typically such a momentous occasion, but he couldn't deny that this was a truly wonderful experience. He couldn't even muster up his usual self-deprecation, so he just chose to enjoy the moment, for once.
He saw Dad settle himself into a corner with Bill and felt satisfaction bloom even brighter in his chest. He knew his dad often felt overwhelmed at these things. Truth be told, sometimes the Weasleys were a little overwhelming to him, too. But it made him happy to see that he'd found at least one person he could talk to. He didn't see Remus yet, or Mr. Weasley, for that matter, but he expected they'd be along soon and then Dad would have even more conversation partners, though Harry wasn't entirely sure that was really what the man wanted. Oh, well.
Just as he was thinking about Remus, the floo flared to life, and both he and Tonks stepped out. Remus waved at Harry, who had gotten sort of trapped in a conversation with Fred and George, but made no move to come to Harry's rescue. Remus's eyes twinkled as he and Tonks moved into the corner with Bill and Severus.
Prat.
Fortunately for Harry, Hermione chose that moment to drag him by the elbow into the other room where she deposited him on the couch beside Ginny before taking up her own position next to Ron on the floor.
"Thanks," Harry breathed. "They were trying to get my opinion on some new–"
"Products, yeah," Hermione interrupted. "They've gotten us all today. I think the thing with Charlie and the chicken gave them a few new ideas. I wonder whose fault that could be?" Hermione leveled a friendly glare at Ginny. The redhead merely batted her eyelashes and smiled innocently.
"I don't know why you're looking at me. I had nothing do with it," she replied evenly.
"It is so creepy how you do that," Ron complained. "I know you did it, and I still sort of believed you just now."
"Yes, well–" Ginny started, but they never found out what she would have said because at that moment the buzz of conversation was intersected by a very feminine scream. Harry and his friends pushed through the door, wands out. They were met by the sight of at least five more wands trained on the incongruous sight of a very blonde French veela jumping up and down while clutching a grinning Tonks's left hand.
Mrs. Weasley's wand was the first to lower.
"Oh my goodness!" she exclaimed, "Is that–"
"Yeah," Tonks answered giggling. Harry wasn't sure he'd ever seen her look so giddy. What was going on?
Mrs. Weasley rushed forward and engulfed Tonks in a hug, her hand still clutched in Fleur's. The younger woman laughed joyously. Mrs. Weasley released her and pulled in a smiling Remus, as well.
Slowly, the rest of the wands in the room dropped back to their owner's sides as it became clear that there was no real danger. Harry was still not fully sure exactly what had happened, though. He knew Remus and Tonks were together, so surely this couldn't be the first time Mrs. Weasley was finding out, could it? And as far as he knew, neither of them was even close with Fleur, though Remus and Bill seemed reasonably friendly, so maybe they were and he just didn't know.
Finally Mrs. Weasley pulled away from hugging Remus and put her palms on both of their cheeks.
"Well, let's hear it then. When did this happen?"
"Yesterday," Tonks replied. "It was very spur of the moment, but he asked, and I said yes, and here we are!"
"That's just wonderful, dear! When's the wedding, then?"
The wedding?! Hang on, he must have missed something. Remus and Tonks were engaged?!
Tonk's smile grew even wider and Remus chuckled from behind her.
"That's just it, Molly. Yesterday! We didn't see any point in wasting time." She looked back over her shoulder at Remus, who wrapped his arm around her and pulled her into his side.
Remus and Tonks were married?!
There was a heavy pause, then a rush of congratulations as everyone recovered from their shock and moved forward to offer best wishes. Mrs. Weasley was so excited she had tears streaking her face and was periodically emitting a series of high pitched squeaks.
"Hang on," Harry called over the din. "You were just at my house an hour ago! You didn't mention anything about this!"
"Well, you ended up not needing your backup gift, remember?" Remus replied, eyes dancing. He winked.
Harry turned to his dad.
"Did you know about this?" he asked accusingly.
"As you should well know, I do not make a habit of involving myself in the romantic entanglements of–"
"So, yes, then?"
"Yes."
"Argh!" Harry cried in frustration, throwing up his hands. His frustration was short lived, though, as Tonks wrapped her arms around him from the side.
"Aw, give him a break," she said with a smile. "He's been bursting to tell you since it happened. That's how your dad found out, anyway. Remus apparated over to your place yesterday afternoon looking for you, but you were here, and then Severus convinced him it might make a nice surprise for you to find out on your birthday."
"Well, I guess it did. Anyway, congratulations. I'm really happy for you."
"Bless. We're happy for us, too." Tonks winked.
"Can I still call you Tonks, though?"
"Oh, very much yes. I'm certainly not going to start going by Nymphadora. I'm not officially a Lupin yet, anyway, not with the werewolf laws on the books at the Ministry right now. We found a wizard who'd marry us and agree to hold the paperwork until it's safe to file it, but for the time being, according to the Ministry, I am still very much unmarried. And so is Remus, which is the only thing they care about."
Tonks looked a bit surly by the end of her pronouncement and Harry agreed that it was definitely an unfair deal. He couldn't think of two people who deserved more happiness than these two. Nor could he think of anyone who could make Remus happier than Tonks seemed to. Once he thought about it, there was no denying that the Remus he'd seen this summer had been quite a bit livelier and cheerier than the one he'd seen before. He imagined that the source of that change was the bubblegum-haired witch currently tucked neatly back under his arm.
Harry smiled and offered them his sincerest congratulations, receiving another hug from Tonks and a strong pat on the shoulder from Remus.
"I hope we didn't steal your birthday thunder with our announcement," Remus said sincerely.
"No, I think it's brilliant!" Harry responded with a smile.
At that moment, Mrs. Weasley brought out an enormous snitch shaped cake and declared it "Time for celebration!" as if that wasn't what they'd been doing all along.
They sang the traditional birthday song for Harry and offered a wedding blessing to Remus and Tonks, and then Mrs. Weasley began to cut into the cake. She was just doling out the last of the pieces when a silvery weasel soared into the room and spoke with Mr. Weasley's voice.
"Incoming," it declared before shimmering back into the ether.
An ominous silence fell heavily over the group. Plates clattered to the table as partygoers exchanged cake slices for wands. Bill and Charlie flanked the kitchen door as Lupin and Tonks pointed their wands out the kitchen window. Severus flung his wand towards the floo and a shimmering silver curtain dripped down over it before solidifying into what looked to Harry like a solid steel wall. Molly tried ushering the remaining occupants into the cupboard, but upon seeing them stood resolutely, wands out, decided to leave them be and peer out the window instead.
In the space of one or two breaths, the entirety of the Weasley household was prepared for battle.
No sooner had they taken up their positions than three distinctive pops sounded at the edge of the property, Molly leaned closer to the window and Tonks and Lupin craned their heads around to see, as well.
Tonks let out a colorful curse at the same time Molly straightened up and cried out, "Percy!"
She ran towards the door, only to be stopped by her eldest sons. They looked questioningly at Remus and Tonks, who were hurriedly grabbing their things.
"It's all right," Remus said. "It's Arthur. But he's got company. The Minister and…well, and Percy. But Dora and I have to go. The werewolf laws. I'm sort of persona non grata at the moment, and Dora shouldn't be seen associating with me, so it's better if we don't stick around."
"Go," said Bill. "We'll handle this."
Remus clasped a hand on Harry's shoulder.
"Sorry to run out on your party like this," he said.
Harry shook his head.
"Don't worry about it," he replied. "I'll see you later."
"See you later."
Dad must have vanished whatever shield he'd built in front of the hearth because it was gone as Remus and Tonks threw a dash of floo powder in and were whisked away. No sooner had the green flames returned to crackling orange, than the kitchen door was opened and Arthur strode in with a tight smile.
Wands were quickly stowed as the Minister of Magic walked into the kitchen. Molly had managed to compose herself and greeted him with a smile that, to anyone outside the family, would probably look perfectly genuine. Harry's eyes slid to the third member of the party. Percy's tight-lipped grimace told Harry that his former prefect hadn't missed a thing. Percy's eyes darted around the room until they settled on Harry. His grimace became a scowl and his eyes dropped to the floor.
"Minister!" she crooned pleasantly. "What a surprise! To what do we owe the pleasure? And Percy, dear. It's so good to have you home."
Percy raised his eyes to his mother, his expression softening only slightly.
"It's wonderful to see you, Mother," he said matter-of-factly.
Molly looked like she was desperate to cross the room and hug her son, but Percy's demeanor clearly indicated such actions would be unwelcome. Harry was quite sure the amount of self-control Molly was currently exhibiting was unmatchable.
"What a lovely home you have, Arthur," the Minister said in a low, rough voice.
"Thank you," Arthur replied.
"I see I am interrupting a celebration."
"Yes, it's Harry's birthday. Seventeenth," Arthur continued, nervously. "Can I offer you some cake?"
"No, thank you," the Minister demurred, before turning abruptly towards Harry.
The Minister was a rough-looking man with eyes of such a light hazel that they appeared almost yellowish. His hair was a reddish brown, streaked with grey. Harry thought he was probably older than the Weasleys, but perhaps not by much. He also vaguely recalled something about him being an ex-Auror, which probably explained the small scars Harry saw on his face and hands, the only bits of him not covered by a very practical-looking suit.
He extended one of his scarred hands to Harry who was just about to reach out and shake it when a familiar hand descended onto his shoulder, gripping just hard enough to send a message. His hand twitched at his side as his father stepped into place beside him, leveling a stare at the Minister that Harry had often seen directed towards himself in Potions class.
"Minister Scrimgeour," he greeted with a curt nod.
Scrimgeour's mouth, which had been open presumably to introduce himself to Harry, closed, then reopened as he returned Severus's greeting.
"Professor Snape."
He shifted his extended hand so that it aligned more closely with Dad's, but his father made no move to take it. Unperturbed, Minister Scrimgeour dropped his hand back to his side.
"Forgive my intrusion," he addressed in a voice that was intended to be heard by all present. "I will not stay long," he returned his gaze to Harry and lowered his voice fractionally, "I do, however, require a private word with you, as well as with Mr. Weasley and Miss Granger, if both are also present. There will be no need for any of the rest of you to join us. Enjoy your time with your family, Percival."
Harry saw Percy wince as the twins leveled deathly glares at him from across the room.
"With us?" Ron chimed, bringing him back to the issue at hand. "Why us?"
"I shall inform you when we are gathered somewhere more private. Is there such a place?"
Arthur gestured through the kitchen door into the sitting room and the minister strode through authoritatively. Ron and Hermione moved to follow him, but when Harry tried to fall into step, the grip on his shoulder prevented him. He looked up into his father's face to see it hard and unyielding.
"What are you doing?" he hissed at the man. Severus ignored him.
"Excuse me, Minister," he said in a dangerous voice. "I'd like to know where you are leading these three young wizards and why you insist on such privacy. In case you weren't aware, there is a war on, and Harry is a rather appealing target. I do not take his safety or security lightly. Not even with one such as yourself."
The icy formality in his father's tone told Harry that this was not going to go well.
"It is a matter which does not concern you."
"It concerns my son and his two closest friends, so I'm afraid I must insist on a bit more transparency."
"Your son and his friends are all adults in the eyes of the ministry and do not require a chaperone, or have I mistaken the date and the purpose of this party?"
"Come, Minister, let us not play games," Severus spat, all semblance of polite civility abandoned. "Your appearance on this date assures me that you know indisputably what the date is, as well as the significance of it. That you chose to appear in the only place my son sets foot where you reasonably believed you could manipulate your way in the door, and where you hold leverage over the occupants, is quite telling. Then, to summon three barely-of-age wizards into a private audience with you where you no doubt intend to continue to manipulate and scheme is hardly a ringing endorsement. My son is the grand prize sought after by the most dangerous wizard in Britain. If you believe that I will allow you to sequester yourself with him, even in the relative safety of this home, then you are more delusional than your predecessor. You will tell me the reason for your visit, or Harry and I will disappear before you can blink. I suggest you speak quickly."
Scrimgeour regarded Harry's father with barely disguised loathing.
"What right do you have to question me and my motives? Why are none of these people questioning yours? I know what you've done. I worked some of the cases you were involved in. Cleaned up some of your messes. Does Mr. Potter know the extent of your crimes? Rest assured that even if he does not, I do. Were it not for Dumbledore's intervention, you'd have been in Azkaban over a decade ago, and several times since then, as well. Now that he's not around to save you, I'd be a bit more careful which dragons you go around prodding. Some of us have long memories. How you've managed to con both Dumbledore and Mr. Potter into believing your sob story is–"
A low buzzing noise filled Harry's head as heat rose on his cheeks and up the back of his neck. He tore his shoulder out of his father's grip and took an angry step towards the minister, interrupting his tirade.
"Oh, shut up!" he bellowed, breathing heavily. "You don't have any idea what you're talking about!"
"I assure you, I do, Mr. Potter," the Minister returned.
"Snape," Harry growled.
"Excuse me?"
"My name isn't 'Mr. Potter.' It's 'Mr. Snape.' If you're going to insult my family and my intelligence by implying that I, along with the most powerful wizard in a century, by the way, have been conned, at least have the decency to call me by my proper name."
This revelation seemed to suck the air out of the room and it momentarily struck the minister dumb. He recovered quickly.
"I see. In that case, it appears that my business here is concluded." He waved his wand and a sack fell onto the kitchen table with a thunk, along with a piece of parchment with a purple ministry seal. He gestured towards Harry, Ron, and Hermione as he spoke. "Enclosed you will find an assortment of peculiar items left to the three of you by the late Albus Dumbledore, along with a copy of his remarks. There is an addendum which you may find relevant, given recent revelations." He gestured vaguely towards Harry and his dad. "I apologize for the delay in delivering them, but you, Mr. Snape, are a difficult boy to locate. I'll be on my way. Percival."
He turned towards the door and Percy dutifully turned to follow. Mrs. Weasley finally lost her hold on her self-control and lunged forward, grabbing Percy's arm.
"Oh, won't you stay, Percy? Have some cake?"
Percy stood as still as a statue for a moment before seeming to shake himself back together. He wrenched his arm away from her.
"No, thank you, Mother," he declined as he fell into step behind the minister.
"Are you coming to the wedding?" she called to his back. Percy turned around and surveyed the room.
"Given present company," he said, leveling a heavy glace and Harry and Severus, "I will have to decline." He turned back and scurried after the minister.
Fred and George crowded into the doorway and shouted a number of colorful insults at his retreating form until both figures disappeared with a pop.
Immediately, it was as if the Burrow deflated like a balloon. The entire room seemed to sag as the occupants dropped their shoulders and leaned into whatever solid surface was closest, the tension bleeding away. Molly burst into tears and Arthur took her into his arms and led her from the room. Bill tucked Fleur under his arm and they seemed to lean into each other, both lost to the world. Fred and George disentangled themselves from the entry and shut the front door with a little more force than was strictly necessary. They disappeared up the stairs muttering rapidly.
The remaining occupants were transfixed by the sealed letter and velvet bag that had been deposited beside the cake as if it were simply another birthday present. Harry made to reach for it, but for what felt like the hundredth time that night, his movements were halted by a hand on his shoulder, but this time, it wasn't his father.
"Hang on a second," Charlie said as he pointed his wand at the package. "I know the minister was carrying it, so it's probably fine, but we should check it over, anyway, just in case."
A moment later, the package and letter both glowed bright blue. Charlie pocketed his wand.
"It's clear," he said, then shrugged. "Unless they're using some sort of ancient Mesopotamian spell that only Bill would know about, which I sort of doubt."
Harry reached out again, and this time, he closed his hand around the letter. He pulled out a chair and sat down with it, breaking the seal and unfolding it as the sound of scraping chairs filled the kitchen. Dad and Ginny had taken seats flanking him, with Hermione, Ron, and Charlie on the opposite side of the table. Hermione reached for the bag and untied it, pulling out a strange silver object, an old book, and what Harry was positive was a Hogwarts regulation golden snitch. It lay motionless on the table.
He turned to the letter in his hand, written in green ink and with a familiar looping slant that sent a painful twist through his chest. He took a deep breath and began to read.
To those I have left behind:
Remember, to the well-organized mind, death is but the next great adventure.
Albus Dumbledore
The following are my bequests:
I leave the entire contents of my possessions to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry to be managed in whatever way school leadership deems best, with the exception of the items below:
To Ronald Bilius Weasley, I leave my Deluminator, in the hope that he will remember me when he uses it.
To Miss Hermione Jean Granger, I leave my copy of The Tales of Beedle the Bard, in the hope that she will find it entertaining and instructive.
To Harry James Potter, I leave the Snitch he caught in his first Quidditch match at Hogwarts, as a reminder of the rewards of perseverance and skill. I also return to him the Sword of Gryffindor, as it was to him that the sword presented itself.
Addendum 21/05/1997
To the Snape family I leave these instructions: When all seems lost and you can see no light, look to each other. Only in love do we find our greatest strength.
He lowered the letter and surveyed the table. His father was gazing at nothing, a thoughtful look on his face. Harry, knowing him as he now did, thought he looked a little sad. Ginny had gripped his hand under the table, and she gave it a little squeeze as he set the letter down. Hermione was frowning down at the collection of items on the table.
"Where's the sword of Gryffindor?" she asked.
Harry looked at the objects. The sword was clearly not among them. He picked the letter back up and scanned it. It clearly stated that he should have it, yet it was not present. He frowned.
"I bet it's at Gringotts," Bill chimed in, striding towards the table, Fleur in tow. "It's goblin-made, and goblins are funny about things like that. To them, if they made it, it belongs to them forever, nevermind who it was bequeathed to. Once the original recipient dies, they believe the object should be returned to them. It's likely that they fought the ministry on this, especially since the sword itself is known to present itself to any worthy Gryffindor, only to disappear again when it is no longer needed. The fact that it hasn't disappeared yet and they may finally be able to get their hands on it…yeah. I'd say they have it. If not, then maybe it has disappeared. I can make some inquiries, though. If it's not there, then I'd say it's probably still at Hogwarts. I'll let you know what I find out."
"Thanks," Harry said. "But what about the rest of this stuff? Why did Dumbledore leave us these things? They seem so…random."
Hermione was chewing on her lower lip and surveying the pile of objects. She picked up the book and flipped through some of the pages. Ron reached out and took what Harry assumed must be the Deluminator. He turned it over in his hands a few times. Not wanting to be left out, Harry also reached for his object.
His hand closed over the snitch. It was strange not feeling the wings fluttering around in his hand. He was used to snitches that were active and buzzing. Only when in storage did the snitch typically lie so still, coming to life almost as soon as it was released from its compartment. This one was unnaturally dormant. He peered at it closely. Ginny leaned over his shoulder to look. She sat back with a sigh.
"What?" he asked her.
"Well, I'm not sure. I thought, maybe when you picked it up, something would happen."
"Me too. It's not buzzing around like the ones at Hogwarts."
"I know. Are you sure this is a snitch you caught?"
"Well, that's what the letter said. But I don't know. How would I know?"
"Maybe it's one I caught. Can I see it?"
He placed it in her hand, but it still sat there, dormant. She handed it back with a frown.
"What?" Harry asked. "What are you thinking?"
"It's just so strange. Regulation competition snitches have flesh memory so the other team can't say they caught it if they didn't. Once you've caught the snitch, it won't wake up for anyone except whoever caught it. So, if that's the snitch you caught in your first game, it should have come alive the second you touched it. But it didn't."
Harry looked at it thoughtfully for a moment.
"Maybe he made a mistake," he said, at last.
"Oh!" Hermione squeaked, jumping up in her seat. "No! I don't think he did," she said eagerly. "Harry, don't you remember your first match? You didn't catch the snitch. You practically swallowed it!"
"Oh!" Harry said. "That's right!"
He brought the snitch up to his mouth. He hesitated for a moment, wondering if he looked as stupid as he thought he probably did, putting a golden ball to his lips as if he was going to kiss it. With a sigh, he decided that he didn't care, and touched it to them.
Immediately, the wings unfurled and began flapping around with a little buzz. Then, almost as soon as it started, it stopped. The wings lay still on his hand, open, but unmoving. As he watched, a line of golden text in that same familiar handwriting scrolled across the surface.
"I open at the close," he murmured. As soon as the words left his mouth, the wings wrapped themselves back around the snitch with a snap, and it sat dormant in his hand once again.
"What was that?" questioned Ginny.
"It said 'I open at the close,' then it turned itself off again. What does that mean?"
Ginny shrugged.
"Search me. But it's got to mean something, or Dumbledore wouldn't have given it to you."
Harry sighed.
"Just once, I wish he'd tell me what I'm supposed to know instead of leaving me to figure it out along the way. Any more luck with yours?" he asked Ron and Hermione.
Ron flicked the lid of the Deluminator and clicked a little button inside. A ball of light zoomed out of the fixture over the sink and into the device. He clicked it again, and the little ball zoomed back.
"Not unless you're having trouble with your lumos and nox," Ron replied with a shrug to match his sister's. "I can't figure why he'd give me a little thing that just turns the lights on and off. Maybe he knows how lazy I am sometimes? How about you, 'Mione?"
Hermione flipped through the pages of the book again.
"Well, I suppose he does know how much I love books. But I can't figure out why he gave me this book in particular. I'm sure there's something in here, but I'll probably have to read it first to figure it out. Give me a few days and I'll get back to you."
Throughout this exchange, his dad simply sat there, silent, staring into space. Harry wondered how he felt about all this. And why hadn't Dumbledore left anything for him? It seemed a bit unusual for him to include three students in his will, two of which he wasn't even that close to, but exclude his closest confidant and friend. Perhaps Dad was upset about being left out.
And what was that bit at the end? The bit about love being his greatest strength. Was love a strength, really? If so, what were they supposed to do with it?
Harry sighed heavily.
"I'm sure there's something here he wanted us to learn for ourselves, but I really, really wish we didn't always have to figure it out."
"This time, you do not," Severus said from over his shoulder. He had straightened in his chair and was now regarding Harry with a serious gaze.
"Albus clearly left these instructions at a time when he was unsure if I would be there to guide you. He expected the three of you to fulfill the task he set you on your own. There is little doubt that these…tools were meant to aid you in the completion of that goal. Fortunately, that is no longer the situation in which we find ourselves. You may now be of-age in the eyes of the law, but you still lack the experience and wisdom that comes with age and time. Continue to leave this to me. However, it would be prudent to keep these trinkets close. Though they appear useless, I am certain there will come a time when they will be needed."
"What about that bit at the end?" Harry asked him.
"Albus was nothing if not sentimental."
"He called us 'the Snape family.' How did he know I'd change my name?"
"He was a meddlesome old fool in life. What makes you think he would have changed at all in death?"
Harry met Severus's eyes as his father reached out and squeezed his shoulder. Harry had learned that this was his default method of showing affection and he took strength from the gesture. Dad then stood from his chair and did something very un-Severus-like: he addressed the room.
"As…interesting as the Minister's visit was, there will be other days for contemplation and strategizing. Today is a day to celebrate my son."
Harry's eyebrows rose somewhere into his hairline as Severus took up one of the well-used cups that had been filled earlier and lifted it into the air.
"I know we have already cut the cake, but I would like to propose a toast," he continued, "to my son. Happy birthday, Harry. Though you are now old enough to strike out on your own, I consider myself fortunate that you have chosen to remain with a 'greasy git' such as myself. You have brought light back into my dark life. You are the embodiment of your mother's determined optimism, with an unhealthy dose of my own grim humor. And all in this room are better for having known you." He paused and considered Harry through twinkling eyes. "Though you are still not allowed anywhere near a cauldron without my direct supervision. I'd hate to have to find a new house."
A smattering of cautious laughter spread around the room. Harry wasn't quite sure what to make of this situation. Was Severus Snape really standing in the Weasley's kitchen, holding a mis-matched glass, raising a toast and cracking jokes? Would he ever stop questioning if this was really real?
As his father raised his glass, the others scrambled to grab their own cups from where they had been hastily put aside earlier.
"To Harry," Severus continued, "Harry Snape. May your life be filled with love and peace. Cheers."
"Cheers," chorused the room.
Harry's chest felt unusually tight and he swallowed thickly. He looked up and met the eyes of his father. They shone with a look that he had come to learn was only ever directed at him. It warmed him from the inside and a smile bloomed on his own face, even as he thought he felt a tear slide down his cheek. Abruptly he stood, his chair scraping back loudly, and threw his arms around his father, unsurprised when Dad's arms wrapped around him in return.
"Told you you were a hugger," he said quietly into Dad's shoulder.
"You started it," he murmured back.
"Like father, like son," Harry whispered. His dad's arms tightened. "I love you, Dad."
"I love you, too."
"Listen, this is touching, and all–" a voice interrupted.
"I mean, it's really sweet," continued an identical voice.
"But, if you're not going to open those presents–"
"-we are," Fred and George chorused.
Ginny sprang up in defense of Harry's presents and soon the room was filled with laughter and noise once again. Harry's celebration lasted long into the evening and ended with a searing goodbye kiss from Ginny under the stars that, thankfully, wasn't interrupted by either of their parents. Harry collapsed into bed with time for only one thought before sleep pulled him under: this was the best birthday he had ever had.
A/N: Lighthearted fun with a small dash of plot. My favorite!
