Chapter 6- Severus
Severus had been having a bit of a rough day. It had started when he'd awoken with a headache. He couldn't identify any cause for such a headache and put it down to one of the things that just sort of happened as he got older (once he'd hit thirty, he'd noticed all sorts of strange and unexplainable ailments would crop up occasionally). It was remedied quickly enough with a headache potion, which he kept conveniently in his side table for just such a purpose.
Unfortunately, the morning did not improve from there. One cup of (very hot) spilled tea, two slices of burnt toast, and one bandaged finger from an overly aggressive pecking Prophet-delivery owl later, Severus had finally given up and had gone back up to his room to prepare for the day. He waved his wand over the kettle to keep the tea warm for Harry and trekked back up to his room.
He spent some time in his room reading and some time in the potions lab cautiously checking some of his long-term brews, though he was loath to meddle with them much, what with the way his luck had been running that day. Eventually, he heard Harry puttering around the house, as well, but both seemed content to keep to themselves for a while.
As morning slowly became afternoon, Severus knew he could put off the task no longer, and pulled his new dress robes out of his wardrobe. A short time later, he straightened his tie and frowned at himself in the mirror.
"I know you used to live in a dungeon, but you're even less of a ray of sunshine than usual today," Harry remarked as he leaned against Severus's open doorway, his own tie hung loosely around his neck. "You know, you don't have to go if you don't want to. I'm sure they'd understand."
"And are you also content to stay at home?"
"Er…well, no. I'd still like to go."
"Then I will also be attending."
Weddings were decidedly not Severus's cup of tea. In fact, he wasn't sure when the last time he'd even attended one was. He made it a point to avoid them, not that it was difficult, as most people didn't bother to invite him in the first place. Yet, here he was, donning his best dress robes (purchased by owl order solely for this occasion, in fact), combing back his hair, and tying his tie for the frivolous event. A wedding during wartime seemed exceedingly foolish to Severus, yet, here he was, getting all gussied up simply so he could accompany his eager son.
Increasingly he was finding that there was very little he wouldn't do for his son. Risking physical injury or harm to protect Harry, well, that was never in question. Enduring hours of what was sure to be absolutely mind-numbing small talk with an entire crowd of people that probably mistrusted him was something the Severus Snape of one year ago could never have fathomed doing. And yet, he'd survived and even participated in several social interactions lately that he wouldn't have believed himself capable of.
Fatherhood was certainly changing him, and Severus wasn't entirely sure he was fully prepared. Merlin, he was too old for this.
"Is that really what you're wearing, though?" Harry asked, breaking Severus out of his thoughts.
"I did not think it appropriate to wear all black to such a festive occasion," he said with a sneer.
"Well, sure, but what color do you call that?"
"Grey."
"Very dark grey."
"But grey nevertheless. When last I checked, grey and black were not the same color."
Harry rolled his eyes at Severus.
"Whatever," he muttered, but Severus could see the corners of his mouth were upturned.
Severus gestured towards Harry.
"Do you need assistance with your tie?"
Harry glanced down.
"Oh, no, I can do it. Thanks, though. I was actually just stopping in because I have a bit of a headache and I was wondering if you had any headache potion."
Severus waved his wand and a phial came drifting towards them from his bedside drawer, which shut itself again quietly. He reached out and grabbed it, handing it to Harry.
"Are you feeling unwell? Is your scar paining you?"
"No, it's just a regular headache. Maybe it's the weather or something. Aunt Petunia always used to send me to fetch her the paracetamol whenever it was about to rain."
"Perhaps it is. I, myself, had a headache this morning."
Harry tipped the potion into his mouth and handed the empty phial back to Severus.
"Thanks," he said. "Feels better already. When are we leaving?"
Severus consulted his watch.
"Soon. Are you ready?"
"Yeah, just need to tie this, hang on."
Harry stepped fully into Severus's room and put himself in front of the mirror. He adjusted the ends of his tie, then twisted and looped them around with a practiced hand and slid the knot up his neck to tighten it. He smoothed his hand down the front of his tie and met Severus's eyes in the mirror. Then, he sort of froze, a strange look on his face.
Severus placed a hand on his son's shoulder and gave it a little squeeze, still looking into the reflection of Harry's green eyes.
"Are you all right?"
Harry blinked hard. Blinked again. Then he dropped his eyes and cleared his throat.
"Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine."
Severus nudged Harry around to face him.
"You are clearly not fine. What happened?"
"Nothing."
"Regrettably for you, residing in a house with an accomplished spy has not improved your ability to lie."
Harry sighed and rolled his eyes.
"Seeing you standing behind me in the mirror, it just reminded me of something. That's all."
"What did it remind you of?"
"In my first year, on Christmas night, I'd just been given the Invisibility Cloak and we were still trying to figure out who Nicholas Flamel was, so I thought I'd go down to the restricted section and see if I could learn anything, but I picked the worst possible book and it started screaming, so I had to run. I ended up hiding in this unused classroom, from you and Filch, actually, and it had this mirror in it. I didn't know it then, but it was called the Mirror of Erised."
"Yes, I know of it. What did it show you?"
"My parents. Well, who I thought were my parents, at the time. James and Lily, I mean. And some other family, too. Grandparents, I assume. People who looked like me. They were smiling at me. It was the first time I really felt like a part of a family. I went back two more nights just to see them. Then Dumbledore found me and told me he was moving the mirror and the next time I saw it was when I was taking the Philosopher's Stone to protect it from Voldemort, and I haven't really thought about it since then. Until just now, seeing you standing behind me, looking like me, being part of my family. It just startled me, is all."
Severus squeezed Harry's shoulder again gently, in a show of understanding.
"Do you think, if I looked into the Mirror now, would I see the same thing?" Harry asked. "My family? I mean, I know it wouldn't be exactly the same because I'd see you instead of James and I'd see these features instead of the ones I used to have, but do you think I'd still see myself surrounded by family?"
"Is that still the strongest desire of your heart?"
"I don't know. I feel like, in a lot of ways, I've got that now. I have you as my father, and I feel much more connected to my mum, and I've got Remus, and Tonks, and the Weasleys, and Ron, and Hermione, and Ginny, and everyone else. It's sort of like I've made my own family."
"Then perhaps you would see something different. It is hard to say. Often the Mirror of Erised shows us a desire of our heart that we did not even know we had. It confronts us with a truth about ourselves that perhaps we were not aware of, yet feel instantly connected to."
"What did you see when you looked into it?"
"I did not look into it."
"Come on. Surely you helped Dumbledore with it. You must have looked in at some point."
"In fact, I did not. I knew it was being utilized, but I made it a point never to look."
"Why?"
"At the time, I believed that I knew the deepest desire of my heart, and I had no wish to look upon what I could never again have."
"Was it mum?"
"I believed it would be. And the life we may have had, had she lived. Perhaps I would have seen a different version of you, even."
"Do you think it would be the same now?"
"Not entirely."
"What do you think you'd see now?"
"You and I, together."
"Without mum? You seem pretty confident."
"I am."
"But you already have me. And you miss her so much. I know you do."
"I will always miss her, but the sting of it is less than it used to be. And having you in my life does not decrease my desire to have you in my life. Perhaps there would be more to the image than just you. Perhaps there would not. I cannot say for certain. But I do know that you would be the central part of it."
Severus turned Harry back towards the mirror and gestured at the two of them.
"I am attending a wedding in the backyard of the Weasley family home—in the middle of a war, no less, which I have expressed to you the foolishness of ad nauseum—where I will be judged, glared at, and worst of all, spoken to all so that you can spend a few carefree hours being pulled across the dance floor by your girlfriend and laughing at the table with your best friends until I drag you home and you collapse into your bed, so that I can wake up in the morning and brew us both a cup of tea and go about life with you. I would not do any of those things if I did not deeply desire your presence in my life."
Severus paused for a moment, reveling in the sappy look of love in his son's eyes and letting it fill him. He doubted he would ever grow tired of that look. He squeezed Harry's shoulder and smirked.
"Or perhaps it would show me surrounded by cauldrons, blessedly alone, without any meddlesome sons asking deeply personal questions or troublesome students blowing up my potions lab."
"Well, it does tend to show impossible things, so…" Harry replied with a matching smirk.
"One can dream."
Harry barked out a laugh. Severus quirked an eyebrow in question.
"It's funny you should say that, because I'm pretty sure Dumbledore said something about dreams, too. Something like, 'It's bad to dwell on dreams instead of living," or something like that. I can't remember the exact wording. I'm sure it was fancier and sounded more like a fortune cookie."
Now it was Severus's turn to laugh.
"A fortune cookie. Oh, would that he were alive if only so that I could tell him that Harry Potter said he sounded like the contrived words of wisdom from a bit of paper stuffed inside a flavorless Muggle treat customarily given out for free at Asian restaurants."
"That's…one way of putting it. And the name isn't Harry Potter."
"Forgive me. Old habits are hard to break."
Harry scoffed.
"It'll be at least October before I stop writing it incorrectly on my essays at school."
"I'll take five points from Gryffindor every time you get it wrong."
"Hey! That's not fair!"
"And I shall take 5 from everyone else who gets it wrong, as well."
Harry laughed outright, then.
"Well, the house cup is Gryffindor's for sure this year!"
Severus hummed, content to let the conversation fade. He glanced down at his watch. It was time to go if they wanted to arrive before the general public. He mentioned this to Harry, and after a few final touches, they both disappeared with a pop.
They reappeared on the Weasley's front lawn in their usual place. Typically, Harry's arrival was greeted with exclamations from his friends and an enthusiastic hug from the youngest female redhead, while Severus received increasingly friendly handshakes from the elder Weasleys. Today, however, their arrival went unnoticed. The Weasleys were all bustling around, making last-minute adjustments. They'd arrived before the other guests, but not by much. Molly had wanted Harry to help with seating guests, but Severus had insisted against it, believing it would put him into too much direct contact with people he'd never seen before. They would either want to talk Harry's ear off, or they'd pose a threat to him. Neither was acceptable.
He knew Harry had wanted to be more useful, but Severus already felt he'd been quite generous even allowing Harry to attend in the first place. He'd briefly considered polyjuicing them both, but had dismissed the thought rather quickly. Most of the invitees knew Harry was an honorary member of the Weasley family, anyway. The Weasleys and Delacours had agreed to slash the guest list in the name of heightened security, so only the closest friends and family members would be in attendance (which was still an unreasonably large number). Two unknown wizards would stick out like a sore thumb.
So, Severus and Harry went ahead and found their seats. With the smaller guest list, they'd taken the time to individually label each chair with a small golden nameplate. Harry had helped set out the chairs days ago, so he directed them to their seats without any fuss.
Before long, other guests began to trickle in, led to their seats by one of the Weasley twins. One or two tried to approach Harry, but Severus leveled his patented glare at them and they quickly returned to their assigned seats. Moments later, Miss Granger sat down on the other side of Harry and the two struck up a conversation. Severus noticed that the seats on the other side of her were filled with two people he'd never seen before, but who he assumed to be her parents. They gave him a nervous sort of wave, then continued gawping at the scenery, talking in hushed tones to each other.
In short order, the last seats were filled and a stuffy old wizard stood at the dais and called the ceremony to order. Things from there proceeded in quite the usual fashion. Severus did notice with some amusement that Harry's eyes seemed focused not on the couple in the center, but on the second bridesmaid, whose eyes also kept darting over to meet Harry's. Weddings did strange things to couples. He'd need to be particularly vigilant this evening.
And if he didn't end up accidentally (or not-so-accidentally) interrupting his son and his girlfriend in a mildly compromising position before the whole thing was said and done, he'd eat his hat. Despite what assurances Harry had made, Severus knew the way these things often went if left unsupervised. He was a head of house at a boarding school, for Merlin's sake. Just who did Harry think he was fooling?
As far as weddings go, Severus did have to admit that this one was quite lovely. He still rather disliked attending them, on the whole, but he could at least admit when a thing was done well. The extensive preparations the Weasleys had undertaken had certainly paid off. Once the ceremony had concluded, the guests exited the tent into the garden for some light refreshments while the tent was rearranged into the reception venue. Harry immediately excused himself and made a beeline for his girlfriend. Severus sighed to himself amusedly and leaned against one of the tall tables around the edge.
"Mind if we join you?"
Severus turned to see the nervous-looking couple from earlier approaching his table. He gave a polite nod of acquiescence even as he prepared himself for the horrible onslaught of small talk that was about to ensue.
"Thanks. David Granger, and my wife, Trudy, We're Hermione's parents," the man introduced, extending his hand. Severus shook it perfunctorily.
"Severus Snape," he returned.
He'd expected a negative reaction, a wrinkling of the nose, perhaps, or even just a heavy blink, a pregnant pause. He had anticipated that Hermione would have regaled her parents with tales of the vile potions master, the only teacher who penalized her for knowing things, instead of rewarding it. Yet, neither of her parents showed any reaction at all. They continued to regard him with vaguely pleasant expressions. Severus filed this incongruity away for later examination.
"And how do you know the family?" David Granger continued.
Were Severus not the consummate Slytherin and trained spy well-practiced in the art of masking his surprise, he would have been the one with a heavy blink and pregnant pause. What had Miss Granger been telling her parents? Or rather, he suspected, not telling them?
"I am the Potions professor at Hogwarts and head of Slytherin House. Perhaps more relevantly, I am also Harry's father."
"Oh, yes, Harry. We've heard about him. Met him once in Diagon Alley. Pardon me, though, I don't mean to be rude, but I thought Hermione had mentioned he didn't have any parents and lived with his aunt and uncle. Certainly you weren't there the day we met him. I would have remembered. Or am I thinking of a different Harry?"
"It's a long story," Severus responded curtly. He didn't care to recount the entire tale to Miss Granger's apparently clueless parents. Where had the girl run off to, anyway? Shouldn't she be shepherding her clearly underinformed parents through such a minefield of information that she had failed to divulge?
He didn't have the patience for these games.
Blessedly, at that very moment, the guests were invited back inside the tent. The neat rows of chairs had been set around tables which surrounded a shining dance floor. The other decorations had been rearranged as well to create a more festive space. The bride and groom stood at the front, welcoming the guests and shaking hands.
Severus bypassed the receiving line and instead took up residence at the furthest corner of the tent. He watched the guests file in and find their seats. Harry gave him a wave when their eyes met, but otherwise followed his girlfriend's lead up to the head table.
The other guests gave Severus's table a wide berth, which he didn't mind. Even the Grangers chose to sit elsewhere, perhaps being put off by the coolness with which their conversation had ended. He found that he didn't particularly care. He was just considering his good fortune to be able to sit alone and to have avoided yet another round of small talk when two people crashed his party.
"Well, you seem to be enjoying yourself," Remus greeted with a smirk as Tonks settled into the chair he'd pulled out for her. "I haven't seen that trademark sneer in at least a couple of days."
Severus narrowed his eyes, but did not respond.
"I see Harry is having fun," Remus continued.
Severus ignored him.
"The ceremony was nice. Not too long. I appreciate a nice, short wedding. Not that I have much to compare it to, mind. I don't get invited to a lot of weddings. In fact, I think the last one I attended was…well, nevermind." Remus said.
Severus shot him a withering glare. Remus had the decency to look a bit sheepish. It didn't take much deduction to surmise that the last wedding he'd been to had been Lily and James's, an event which Severus dearly did not want to discuss. Remus sighed and shook his head.
"All right, you old bat. I'll take the hint. Come on, Dora. Let's have a dance."
Remus pulled his wife from her seat almost before she'd had time to sit in it and the two left the table. Severus was alone once again. Honestly, he preferred it that way.
He had tried to ignore it, but all evening there had been a steadily building itch between his shoulder blades. At first, he'd written it off as a side effect of whatever mild (or possibly moderate) social anxiety he was dealing with. Then, he'd put it down to his general dislike of weddings. But, increasingly, he found it impossible to ignore. He twitched his shoulders. The itch persisted. It felt like something was coming.
Severus had had decades to hone his instincts, and he'd learned to trust them. Perhaps that was why he'd been so curt with the Grangers, so surly with Remus. Oh, certainly it was in his nature to be that way anyway, but he really had been trying to make a bit of an effort not to be a total git, for Harry's sake. But this feeling had him reverting to old habits. The best way to eliminate distracting people is to make them go away as quickly as possible. The fastest way to make people go away is to shut them out as rudely as possible. That's what he had done, and to great effect. His eyes were now sweeping the tent, looking for anything out of the ordinary, assessing the threats, always keeping Harry in his peripheral vision.
There was nothing. Everything seemed fine. So why was he feeling this way? Perhaps he'd grown paranoid in his old age.
An hour passed. Silly wedding traditions were observed. Cake was eaten. Toasts were made. Then the music flared back up and the dancing resumed. Still nothing happened.
Until it did.
Just as Severus was beginning to believe he truly was simply a paranoid old man, a silver lynx burst through the side of the tent and stopped in the middle of the dance floor. The guests who had seen it fell silent immediately, the sudden hush quieting the music stopped. All heads turned to hear what the patronus had to say. It stood silent, as if waiting for everyone's attention. Then, it spoke in Kingsley Shaklebolt's clear baritone.
"The Ministry has fallen. Scrimgeour is dead. They are coming."
It shimmered away into nothing.
The tent remained silent and frozen for one heartbeat, then another, then it shattered like so much glass. Severus shot out of his seat, wand already in hand, and ran for Harry. Despite knowing exactly where the boy was, he found his path impeded by people attempting to run every which way. He saw Bill and Arthur trying to direct people to the floo or the designated apparition point, but many were panicking instead of listening. He growled in frustration at the chaos and shoved people out of the way. He had to reach his son.
Suddenly, he heard a sound like a gong and gold sparks of magic fell down around him like snow. His stomach dropped to his toes.
The wards had broken.
Dozens of pops of apparation sounded around him and immediately spells began flying towards the tent. The panic increased. He cursed to himself. With the wards down, he could apparate straight out, but he wouldn't be going anywhere without his son.
Suddenly, Harry burst through the crowd clutching Ginny Weasley's wrist as he dragged her along. Both had their wands out.
"Dad!" Harry yelled.
Severus stretched out his hand towards Harry, already thinking of his destination. An instant before he spun them all away, Harry twisted and flung Ginny towards him instead, giving him a look that Severus didn't want to interpret. In the same moment that Severus gripped her arm automatically, Harry released it, and they both popped out of existence, leaving Harry behind.
They reappeared in the sitting room of his house. Severus whipped his head around frantically, searching for Harry. Surely he hadn't done what he thought he had done. But he had. He must have, because he wasn't here.
"Harry!" he yelled, though he knew there would be no response.
Angrily, he shook Ginny's hand out of his grasp and apparated back to the Burrow. He landed back in his own living room in a heap, the ache of bouncing off of anti-apparation wards spreading through his body.
He growled again and reached for the pot on the mantle. He ignited a fire with a furious stab of his wand and slammed his handful of floo powder into it as he snarled out his destination. He spun through the system only to be greeted with an iron wall that bounced him back to his starting point.
He picked himself off of his living room floor and flung his wand out, a summoning spell on his lips. He half-noticed Ginny sitting on his couch in her shimmering gold dress, her head in her hands, but he had no time for her. As soon as Harry's Firebolt slammed into his palm, he twisted away to a spot he'd scoped out weeks ago. A spot he'd desperately hoped he'd never have to use, but when had hope ever worked out for him? Being a spy meant always being prepared with an alternative method, and in this case, as with many others, he was glad he'd taken the precaution.
He reappeared in a clearing in the woods outside the Weasley's property. The lack of trees in this area, as well as it being located outside the range of any apparation wards, made it a good destination. On foot, it would take about fifteen minutes to walk to the Burrow. Severus didn't have fifteen minutes.
He swung himself onto Harry's broom and took off. Severus hadn't flown in a while, and he'd never been on the Firebolt, but he knew how to handle a broom. He shot into the air and soared over the trees. He wouldn't have trouble finding his destination. The wedding tent, once aglow with fairy lights, was now awash in flames, sending a plume of smoke into the twilight sky and bathing the area in red-orange light. Flashes of light in every color told Severus that the fighting was still ongoing.
Suddenly, a bright column of flame lit up the sky. Severus pulled back on the handle of the broom as a wave of heat and pressure washed over him. He blinked to clear the spots in his vision and shook his head. His ears were ringing. He hovered in place momentarily, stunned and slightly disoriented. He breathed deeply to collect himself, then he waved his wand over his head and the ringing in his ears dissipated, his vision returned to normal. He leaned over the broom and accelerated. His heart was beating faster. Moments later, he emerged on the scene.
The wedding tent was still aflame, but that was the least of the problems now. Where the Burrow once stood, now there was only a pile of rubble sending a plume of smoke into the sky. The spellfire seemed to have stopped and the place appeared deserted. One or two people lay on the ground, unmoving. Each time he saw a person, his muscles clenched in fear, only to release as they turned out not to be Harry.
Shouldn't he feel sad for these people? Shouldn't he be worried? He didn't have time for that. Where was his son?
He flew over the property again and again. After his third pass, he nervously cast a spell over the collapsed house, breathing a sigh of relief when it revealed no one inside. But then the fear returned. If Harry wasn't here, where was he?
Maybe he had gotten out. Maybe he had apparated home. Severus turned the broom around and flew back outside the range of the wards, dropping down through the trees as soon as he felt the tell-tale tingle pass over his skin. As soon as his feet touched the ground, he was gone.
He appeared in his sitting room again. Ginny Weasley still sat on his couch. Her head whipped up when she heard him arrive, and her hopeful look told him what he'd feared.
Harry hadn't come back here.
Suddenly, he could no longer stand. He sank to his knees on the carpet. His breath came in gasps and heaves as he struggled to bring air into his lungs. The smell of smoke that clung to his robes was suffocating him. Angry, he ripped off the outer garment and flung it away from him, his tie following immediately after, but he still couldn't breathe. He dropped his head down to rest on the floor.
A small hand descended onto his back.
"He–he'll be okay," Ginny whispered. "He has to be. He always is."
Severus couldn't respond. He knew he should. He knew he should be offering her comfort, him being an adult and her only a child, but it was beyond him in this moment. It was all he could do to keep from screaming.
Years later, or perhaps only a few minutes, the floo roared to life. Severus sat up and whipped his head around. A soot-covered Remus Lupin stepped through. His eyes met Severus's and he nodded.
"He's alive," he said.
The tension left Severus's body and he sagged, boneless. The girl next to him let out a sob of relief.
"He's at Grimmauld," Remus continued. "He's going to be fine, so are the others, but we need some blood replenisher and more dittany, if you have any."
Severus shook himself. This was no time to fall apart. Harry was all right, though the need for more medical potions was concerning. Fortified–Severus had always been good in a crisis–he rose to his feet and swiftly gathered all he needed from his potions stores. He added a few phials of his personal extra-strength pain-relief potion, as well as a burn balm and a bruise paste for good measure.
As quickly as possible, he followed Remus and Ginny through the floo. He emerged into chaos.
The wedding having been between two Order members meant that a good number of Order members had gotten an invitation. Subsequently, when all hell had broken loose, they all had congregated back here. The place was packed. Even those who had chosen not to attend or who had different obligations were bustling about, shouting to each other over the din.
"Jimmy, have you heard anything else from Kingsley?"
"Nothing, but my man at Downing Street says all is quiet there. I'm just waiting for—"
"Pomona says Mungos is on lockdown. She wants to know if she can open Hogwarts infirmary for more patients. Has anyone seen Minerva?"
"New reports of increased activity in Wiltshire. Send a message to–"
"Get me eyes on Hampstead! I need more information about–"
Right. The Ministry. In all the confusion over losing Harry, Severus had lost sight of the source of the problem. The Ministry had fallen. The country had descended into chaos.
"Excusez moi! Pardon! Je passe!"
Severus twisted out of the way of a harried-looking French girl in a singed gold bridesmaids dress who was running across the room, arms full of what appeared to be makeshift bandages. He followed her to what he assumed would be the temporary triage center. She flew through the door of the formal dining room and dropped the bandages onto a small table next to the woman Severus recognized as Fleur's mother.
"Maman!" the girl called as she dropped them. Her mother darted a glance at the girl even as she continued pointing her wand at a deep cut running up Tonks's leg. It was knitting back together, but far too slowly, and blood was pouring like a river into the auror's boot.
"Merci, mon ange," she said, then fired off a rapid stream of loud French that brought the bride herself running across the room to take up a bandage and begin wrapping it around the wound. It appeared that Madame Delacour would be their Healer for the night.
Severus opened the flap of his satchel and waved his wand. A parade of healing potions began arranging themselves on the table next to the bandages.
"Merci, Monsieur Snape," she replied, taking up a blood replenishing potion and pulling the stopper. She thrust it into Tonks's hand.
"The pain potion is double-strength," he replied, "but each phial should be one dose."
Madame Delacour nodded. Severus moved on. Scanning the room for Harry. There, in the corner, in a chair, sat his son.
Harry hadn't noticed Severus. His eyes were resolutely staring at the floor as an irate Ginny Weasley berated him. Blood ran down Harry's face from a cut above his eye and Severus could see from here that he was holding his left arm at an awkward angle. But he was sitting up, not lying on a stretcher. He was awake and seemingly alert. He still had all of his extremities and didn't appear to be in danger of bleeding out. Severus allowed himself a sigh of relief. As Severus picked his way across the room, Ginny turned and stomped away from him. Harry lifted his face to call after her, but she didn't respond. Then, finally, he saw his father.
He stood as Severus took the last few steps towards him and wrapped his arms around his son. Harry returned the hug tightly with one arm, the other still hanging awkwardly by his side. The battle smells of smoke, sweat, and blood clung to Harry's hair and clothes.
"Harry," Severus breathed into his son's head.
"I'm okay," Harry replied. Severus clung to him tighter. Harry didn't pull away. "I'm okay," Harry repeated, gently.
They stood like that, clinging to each other for a time that was both long and short. Finally, when Severus felt that he could bring his roiling emotions under control, he pulled away gently.
"What happened?" he questioned as he brushed a thumb over Harry's forehead. The cut had been healed already and the blood was beginning to dry, though it still looked frighteningly gruesome.
"Just a bit of debris. Charlie healed it in about two seconds."
"And your arm?"
"Charlie yanked me down pretty hard right before the Burrow blew. I think it may be dislocated."
Severus reached up to his son's left shoulder and felt around. He nodded and grabbed Harry's arm in both hands, twisting it around into the proper angle.
"Brace yourself," he said, before popping it back into place.
Harry's mouth dropped open in pain as his body bent double. He drew in a great gasp of breath and swore loudly. Severus quite agreed.
"Surely there's a way to do that with magic," Harry groused, rubbing his arm, which Severus knew would be tingling painfully.
"The wand work is needlessly complicated and the result is exactly the same. I find the muggle method to be superior, in this case. Do you have any other injuries?"
"No, I think that's it."
"Good. Come."
Severus led Harry from the room and up the stairs. The portrait on the landing was screeching horribly, but there was so much activity going on that nobody had bothered to shut her up. Severus closed her curtains with a wave of his wand and continued up the stairs. He shuffled Harry into the first room they came to, and instructed Harry to shut the door. He waved his wand and the noise from beyond the rest of the house was replaced by a dull static. He turned and regarded his son.
They stared at each other in relative silence for a moment. Severus's emotions were snapping at his mental walls and he was struggling to hold them back. Assured of Harry's safety, his worry and fear had faded and it was taking all he had not to allow anger to take their place. He breathed deeply before he spoke.
"Explain," he growled.
Harry dropped his eyes to the floor and opened his mouth. Then, he closed it again and shook his head. He straightened his shoulders and raised his eyes, meeting Severus's stormy gaze with a look of determination.
"I did what I had to do," Harry replied.
"Insufficient. Try again."
Harry took a breath and furrowed his brow.
"There were still too many innocent people and too many Death Eaters. They needed my help. I couldn't just run away."
"Retreating from an ambush is not 'running away.' It is strategic regrouping."
"No, those are just fancy ways of saying running away. We were surrounded, but we weren't terribly outnumbered. And there were people that needed saving–"
Severus's tenuous hold on his walls snapped.
"Oh, yes, there it is," he snarled. "Potter always has to be the savior. How many times must I tell you before it penetrates your skull? You are not solely responsible for the salvation of the wizarding world. You are a child–"
"I'm not a child! I'm an adult! I can make my own choices! I can–"
"YOU. ARE. A. CHILD!" Severus roared, looming over Harry. The boy flinched back and something inside Severus broke. The fight went out of him like water. He stepped away from Harry and slumped back against the door.
Severus knew what Harry's childhood had been like. Oh, they may not have ever discussed it, but his visit to Privet Drive last year had given him quite enough context clues, and if Severus was good at anything it was reading between the lines. From that moment, even before he'd decided to accept Harry as his son and pursue a relationship with him, he'd sworn to himself that he would endeavor to never put Harry into a situation like that again. And he rather thought he'd done fairly well. He stayed out of Harry's personal space. He offered only gentle physical contact, and he tried not to move suddenly or sharply. He always left doors cracked so that Harry could be the one to decide if he wanted them closed, so that he would never feel trapped or imprisoned. He even tried very hard not to yell or raise his voice, though he'd never been known to have an even temper and he had been known to say things he didn't mean when riled up. Occlumency helped, but when his nerves were as frayed as they were today…well…
Once again, his short fuse had led him down a path he'd never meant to walk. He breathed deeply, chest shuddering as he allowed his dominant emotion to finally express itself.
Not anger. Not rage. Not judgment.
Fear.
"Damn it, Harry. I thought you were dead," he whispered.
Harry stood silently for a long moment.
"I'm sorry," he finally whispered back.
"I know."
"I couldn't…I couldn't just leave. You get that, right? They were there because of me. I know they were. And it wasn't right for all those other people to have to suffer because of me."
"They weren't there just because of you."
"Of course they were. You've seen the Prophet. They've been trying to draw me out all summer with their attacks."
"They are not 'drawing you out.' The attacks are meant to sow fear, and that is precisely what they have done. If they are drawing anyone out, it is the Order, but we are very deliberately not taking the bait, as difficult as it is. They were not there for you. They were there because that wedding was the single largest public gathering of known members of the Order of the Phoenix. You were just the proverbial icing on the cake."
"Oh."
"Indeed."
"But, I–" Harry sighed. He seemed to have lost his steam.
Severus changed the subject.
"Tell me what happened to the Burrow."
"Bill blew it up."
"Excuse me?"
"I don't have all the details, but apparently Bill, Charlie, and the twins rigged it up ahead of time, just in case it was ever needed. Some of it was spell work and some was actual explosives, but it did the job quick. That's where I got the wound, actually. I missed the signal to get down and a piece of debris hit me in the head before Charlie hauled me down by the arm. A few of the Death Eaters weren't so lucky. They got out of there as quickly as they could after that. Then we had to hike beyond the apparation ward before we could get back here. I wanted to apparate straight home, but Charlie wouldn't let me go until I'd seen a Healer about my head. I still need to get checked for a concussion, but Fleur's mum was busy with other people."
"I see. Well, concussions and dislocations notwithstanding, I am quite pleased that you made it out without major injury."
"Thanks."
"I am, however, not pleased with your decision-making."
"Yeah, I figured that."
"Harry, when we agreed that you could help, was not our agreement contingent upon you following my instructions, even when you did not wish to?"
"Yeah, but–"
"And is that what you did today?"
"No, but–"
"You may be an adult in the eyes of the law, but you still have much to learn. You cannot yet compete with wizards and witches who have been flinging dark spells for the better part of two decades. It is imperative that you rely on the wisdom of those who are older and more experienced, rather than charging in, bull-headed and blind. Do you understand?"
Harry sighed.
"We made that agreement about you allowing me to help with the horcruxes. This is totally different."
"In that case, I would like to modify our agreement."
"No."
"Very well, then I shall continue seeking and destroying horcruxes…but without your assistance."
"Wait, what? No!"
"Those are your options."
"I'll just do it myself!"
"And you think you will succeed? After what happened the other day? You think you and your friends who have not yet finished your basic education are equipped to handle archaic forms of very dark magic that are known to manipulate emotions and behave entirely unpredictably?"
"Absolutely," Harry replied, stubbornly. The doubt Severus saw shining clearly through his eyes rather undermined him. He simply stared at his son, one eyebrow raised. Harry sighed.
"Maybe."
Severus raised the other eyebrow. Harry sighed again and his shoulders dropped.
"Okay, probably not."
"I think that is a wise assessment."
"But I can't just sit around and do nothing while my friends are being attacked! I can't read Quidditch magazines and snog my girlfriend while the Ministry is in Voldemort's hands."
"I quite agree."
"I can't–wait, you do?"
"I do. As much as I am loath to admit it, it has become clear that your carefree summer must come to an end. Starting tomorrow, we will begin working on defense."
"Seriously? You're going to let me do this?"
"I have little choice in the matter. If you recall, my intention was never to cut you out of anything. I know better than to ask you to let others fight your battles for you or to attempt you to force you to do so by withholding information from you. I ask merely that you accept guidance and allow those more experienced to do what they have been trained to do. However, I have also failed to prepare you adequately for what is coming. Your Defense classes have been dreadful, at best, for your entire Hogwarts career–and, no, I am not making an exception for the tutelage provided by the werewolf, though I will concede that your mastery of the Patronus charm is a valuable asset. You have shown that you are skilled in this subject, but your repertoire of spells is far less than what it should be. I have been remiss in neglecting to correct this error until now. I desired for you to have a summer free of obligation or stress, but I perhaps buried my head too far into the sand. If I promise to prepare you for the coming war, will you promise to stay out of it as long as you possibly can?"
Harry seemed to carefully consider this proposal. He searched Severus's eyes for what felt like ages. Seemingly satisfied at last, he gave a small nod.
"Okay. I promise."
Severus returned Harry's nod with one of his own.
"Thank you."
"You know I'm not going to be able to stay out of it forever, right? Eventually, Voldemort is going to come for me. I'm not going to have a choice."
"I am aware. I do not seek to avoid the inevitable. But by delaying it, we give ourselves time to strengthen our defenses so that we may emerge in victory rather than defeat."
"That's a very Dumbledore-ish thing to say. Been practicing that one?"
"I have no need of practice."
Harry scoffed.
"If you say so. Oh! I almost forgot!" Harry smirked at him and his eyes twinkled merrily. Severus frowned. That expression rarely boded well for him.
"Five points from Slytherin," Harry continued, cheekily. "My name, Professor, is Harry Snape, not 'Potter.' And I'll thank you to get it right next time!"
Severus stood still. The way this child bounced from one emotion to the next baffled him. Without another word, Harry turned and walked out the door, the trademark Snape-Family Smirk still plastered on his long-nosed face.
A/N: First disclaimer: I don't speak French, nor do I know anyone who does. If I got it wrong, please let me know and I will absolutely fix it.
But anyway, did somebody order some plot?
In all seriousness, I had been noticing that my Severus chapters were markedly shorter than my Harry chapters. I have made it a personal goal to make them a bit more balanced. This one was very plot-heavy, so it ended up being quite long indeed, but I'm quite happy with it, so I hope you are, too.
As always, I appreciate all comments, subs, kudos, etc. I tell myself that it isn't important and that I'm really writing this for myself, but, annoyingly, it does actually help me stay motivated.
As always, thanks for reading!
