A/N: I have to apologize. This is two weeks later than I intended, but I have been trying to upload this chapter since the end of my Spring Break and have had a lot of problems doing so. Also, there is a lot of talking and explanations in this chapter, so there isn't a lot of hair raising action, but hang in there! It's necessary for plot development :)
Disclaimer: usual one applies.
Previously:
"I already look like you. I can't exactly go back to being Harry Potter. I don't want to live a lie. I just hope that you know what you are getting yourself into. Trouble is rather attracted to me for some reason."
The smile that spread across Snape's face was one that Harry would never forget.
Chapter Nine: In which the trickster sets his stage
"Well, I see that my plan should not present any problems for us."
Harry and Severus both turned at the sound of the voice. Dumbledore stood in the door of the hospital ward, practically beaming at the two of them. Dressed in an outlandish set of robes in orange and turquoise, he bounced over to where Harry was laying in bed and pulled up a chair. He sat down and Harry thought that this was the youngest he had ever seen Dumbledore look. Severus was astonished at the difference between the sorrowful man of this morning and the sprightly man of tonight. The twinkle in his eyes dominated the old man's face. Severus suddenly recalled him mentioning his plan for hiding Harry from Voldemort. He had a sneaking suspicion that he would not like this plan.
"What plan, sir?" Harry asked, an expression of child-like innocence and curiosity on his face. His mind, on the other hand, was turning with possibilities for his future. What would happen now that he and the professor had finally decided to be civil? He hoped Dumbledore would not try and separate them from one another. This thought should have surprised him, but it did not. Although he still felt highly insecure about the entire situation, he truly wanted to give the man a chance. It was strange. The professor had been so – nice – this evening, even after Harry had brutally insulted the man that morning. Did he want to get to know Harry? He doubted it, but the opportunity to have a family was a reality that he was willing to do anything for. He desired it so desperately that the mere thought that Dumbledore might yank it away made him angry.
"How are you feeling right now, Harry?"
"Honestly, sir, I'm tired, my body hurts like hell, and I'm a bit hungry," Harry narrowed his eyes. "I would also like you to answer my question, sir, which you tried to avoid just now. What plan were you referring to?"
Snape had to marvel at Harry's audacity. The boy managed to maintain a civil yet curious tone while demanding answers. Snape smirked; the boy was not going to lie down and take Dumbledore's evasiveness any longer. He was not as stupid as Snape had once thought. The headmaster would have to spill his plan soon or have a riot on his hands. Yes, this would be very entertaining to watch.
"Yes, well, all in good time, my boy. Why don't you have a light meal? Your body will need the energy to restore your magical reserves. They are quite low."
"I will eat, professor, but only because I am hungry," Dumbledore smiled and Harry continued. "Then, you will talk and tell me all about this joyful little plan of yours. And I want the whole truth so try not to leave anything out this time."
"As soon as your food appears, I will explain everything. Twinkle!" a house elf appeared with a loud crack and awaited orders. "Will you please bring us some porridge and fruit? And, perhaps, some hot tea for our friend here."
"Of course, headmaster, sir," squeaked the tiny elf and he disappeared the same way he came: into thin air.
"Are you comfortable, Harry? Severus?" Dumbledore asked as he leaned back in the chair he was sitting in. Snape nodded as Harry propped himself up with pillows so he would be able to eat without straining himself. Twinkle reappeared with a tray of food and set it on Harry's lap. Realizing how hungry he was, Harry began to inhale his food but the stares from the two older men stopped him. Reminding himself that the food would not disappear, he slowly ate his porridge, taking small sips of the hot tea in between each bite to keep the slower pace. Snape and Dumbledore watched Harry eat for a few moments until Snape decided to get the show on the road.
"Well, Albus, are you going explain what is going on or will I be forced to make you speak?"
"Now, now, Severus," Dumbledore said quickly. "No need for anything hasty. Give me a few moments to gather my thoughts. Much of this you already know, Severus, but Harry needs the complete picture." They fell into silence once more and the only sound that could be heard was Harry's eating.
"Voldemort is looking for you, Harry," Snape and Harry sighed simultaneously with an expression that said, duh. "But, that should be no surprise. On the other hand, the fact that he was able to send some of his followers to your exact location to capture you is troublesome. It means that someone leaked the information to him. No one was supposed to know your specific whereabouts, although we could not hide that you were living with your relatives. It also means that the blood protection only covers the property itself, something I was – thankfully – unable to test until now. However, given the circumstances of your family, I would not even consider putting you with them unless you asked me to. Unfortunately, students are not allowed to remain inside the castle over the summer holiday, so if you do not wish to return to Privet Drive, we must find a suitable guardian for you.
If the only concern were your relatives, there would be little trouble arranging a temporary residence for you. However, there is also the matter of the ministry. The minister seems thoroughly determined to discredit the two of us using propaganda. If you have seen the newspaper this summer, that would have been made perfectly clear. They have been printing some rather derogatory remarks in the Daily Prophet. Fudge is obviously using any means necessary to keep the public from listening to our pleas to prepare for the fight against Voldemort. He has also been demanding that I arrange a meeting between the two of you. I am worried that he may try to blame Cedric's death on you."
"What?" Harry exclaimed, his porridge forgotten. "Why would they do that? What's the point? I thought I was their light in the darkness, their precious savior," Dante spat the last word out, utterly disgusted with the title. He took a savage swig of his tea.
"The minister, I believe, thinks that if you are not restrained, he will have another dark lord on his hands if you defeat Voldemort." Harry opened his mouth for another outburst, but Dumbledore spoke first. "I know; it's absolutely ridiculous. I have tried my best to steer him away from those thoughts, but alas, he no longer respects me the way he once did. Power has corrupted him. He will not risk turning the public against him by acknowledging the truth of Voldemort's return. He is too fond of his power, not to mention his wealthy and respected supporter, Lucius Malfoy. Once the minister learns that you have disappeared from your relative's house, he will surely come here and demand to see you. We must be ready. We cannot allow him to get his hands on you and risk your safety. If he were to ever take you into the ministry's custody, it would only be a matter of time before Voldemort got his hands on you."
"But what can I do?" Harry said, exhaustion in his voice. "Voldemort wants to kill me, the ministry wants to capture me, maybe even hand me over to Voldemort. I can't be myself anymore, can I? It's too dangerous to be Harry Potter." Dumbledore nodded his head.
"I am afraid that if you remain as you are, no good will come of it. If you and Severus are willing, I have a plan to hide you so well that no one will ever realize the truth."
"I think I understand, Albus," Severus said, a new light in his eyes.
"Yes, I wish for Harry to return to school this fall, not as Harry Potter, but as your son. We will hide him in plain sight in such a way that will guarantee your safety."
"I get it!" Harry said, wonder filling his voice. "No one would ever suspect that Professor Snape's son is really Harry Potter. We hate each other, and everyone knows that. No one would think we could pull it off. It's brilliant!"
"But what of his back story, Albus," Severus interrupted. "How will we explain Harry Potter's disappearance and my son's sudden appearance? It is too convenient, too coincidental. Someone is bound to notice."
"Yes, I have thought about that, and I believe that I have concocted a suitable back story for your son. Harry's mother was a half-blood. She left England when she found out about your service to Voldemort, but at that time she was already pregnant with Harry, though neither of you knew. She made you swear an oath not to tell anyone of your relationship. Therefore, you knew nothing of Harry until this past summer. She died in an automobile accident in the spring. Harry was with her, but he survived and was taken to a muggle hospital when he was found. Her will stated that I was to be contacted upon her death and to place Harry where I saw fit. At least, this is what Voldemort must think in order to save you both."
"And what about my disappearance?" Harry asked quietly. He was not sure what he thought about this "plan."
"Well, the solution for that was actually provided by you the other day."
"Me?" Harry asked in complete disbelief. "But I didn't do anything!"
"On the contrary," Dumbledore chuckled. "You provided me with five death eaters who will all testify under the influence of veritaserum that you released a magical outburst of energy. That is the last thing they will have remembered before falling unconscious. For all they know, you died in the backlash of magic. To say plainly, they have no idea what condition you are in right now. While it is normal for teenagers to have outbursts, they are never on the scale that yours was, so Lucius Malfoy will not recognize it for what it truly is: your body coming to terms with the amount of magic it can handle at your age." Harry was silent, something Dumbledore mistook for ignorance. "Forgive me, Harry, I forget, sometimes, that you have little or no knowledge of things that I take for granted for knowing. Has someone explained to you about the natural barriers your body creates to seal off excess magic until your body is capable of handling it?"
"Yes, I think I know," Harry said softly. "But I – I'm sorry, sir. You are going to think I'm crazy if I tell you this."
"I assure you, Harry, I will put off judgment until I have heard all that you have to say."
"Well, sir," Harry did not know where to begin. "I will try to explain as clearly as I can. The details are a bit difficult to remember. I had this dream, you see. And in it – I saw my mum and James. They seemed so real, sir. I could touch them.. and my mum," Harry closed his eyes, remembering. "She hugged me. But um – her and my, er, James explained that those barriers start to break down right about now and that NEWT classes are to help train us to control that extra magic. She said that my outbursts would be stronger because of the powers Voldemort transferred to me the night he tried to kill me. That was me who made it storm outside of the astronomy tower earlier. Is that correct, sir? Was that dream real? I have never heard of this part of a wizard's training, so if it's right, then she must have been real."
"Yes, all of that information is correct," Dumbledore's eyes twinkled. "And I believe that you really did speak to your mother and James. Those who have passed on have a curious way of making themselves heard from time to time. You are not crazy."
"Perhaps, Albus, this conversation might be saved for another time when Harry is not exhausted," Snape said, not ready to hear about Lily at the moment. "Please continue explaining what you propose to do with the captured Death Eaters."
"Quite right, Severus," Dumbledore said. "As I was saying, Lucius Malfoy and his companions will not have recognized that magical outburst for what it truly was. They will think that you were seriously injured or possibly dead. Even if they do recognize it, they will certainly not believe that you came out of the fight unscathed while he and his cohorts were injured. Therein lies the path that we must take. We will let them believe that you suffered enormous injury to your person and are in a magically induced coma. I have obviously removed you from England for your safekeeping. That is all anyone, including the Order, will know."
"If the Dark Lord were to ask of Harry's whereabouts, I can tell him just that," Severus said, relieved. "Even if there is a spy in the staff or the Order, as I suspect there is, then the Dark Lord can have no reason to believe that I would know. This also solves my son's sudden appearance. What of his schooling? It would be too obvious if he were to be in fifth year. I would say to place him in the sixth year, but we have no record of OWL's and no time to fabricate results."
"Please don't make me go through my fourth year again," Harry pleaded. "I don't exactly look 14 anymore and I do not want to be bored beyond belief by sitting through the same material again."
"I have thought of that," Dumbledore said, holding back a chuckle. "You are sixteen, but could not take your OWL's due to the accident. Because muggle authorities found you and placed you in a muggle hospital, your recovery took much longer than it should have. You missed not only the exams, but also the last three months of your education. Placing you in the fifth year will be no problem with that explanation and it saves us the trouble of fabricating non-existent results. And, as I am headmaster, we do not need to come up with a previous school or marks. I will simply say that they are confidential. Fortunately, the ministry has no control over that."
"Do you think I look old enough for sixteen?" Both men looked at him critically. Harry blushed.
"Yes, I believe so," Dumbledore said, smiling. "You will, at least, have the height of a sixteen year old, if nothing else."
"Finally, I don't look like a child!" Harry exclaimed. Dumbledore chuckled while Snape looked… exasperated? It was an odd but carefree expression and Harry almost laughed out loud. He was unused to see Snape looking so normal. "Oh gods. What will I tell Ron and Hermione? They will never believe any of this."
"I'm afraid, Harry, that you cannot tell anyone of this."
"But, they are my best friends!" Harry half cried. "I have to tell them. How else will they know that I am safe?"
"And what if the ministry questions them about your whereabouts? Or one of Voldemort's men manages to capture them? They will be one of the first people anyone will suspect of knowing where you are. Think. If the son of Severus Snape were seen becoming fast friends with Mr. Weasley and Miss Granger, it would draw suspicion on you. You would put them and yourself at extreme risk."
"So, that means I will have to start over," Harry said slowly. "I am walking into this with nothing."
"You would not be alone," Snape said. "Trust me when I say that I will try to help you. And, I am sure that in time you will become friends with them once more, as long as you are not in Slytherin."
"No, you are wrong," Harry said sadly. "Hermione, perhaps, but never Ron. I know him too well to think otherwise. He harbors too much dislike towards you. He is just as prejudiced towards the Slytherins as that house is towards the Gryffindors. He forgets of people like Peter Pettigrew and you who go against those idiotic stereotypes. I will not be able to gain his friendship as your son."
"Harry, Severus," Dumbledore interrupted, a serious expression on his face. "I have said all of this as though you have already agreed to it. However, I will ask you now what you would like to do. I know what I believe to be the safest route, but I also do not want to make your decision for you. You must agree to it willingly or you will never be able to pull it off convincingly. You must be ready to put aside your past and work towards understanding one another.
Harry, if you decide not to do this, I can reapply the charms to give you your old appearance back. You will not have to return to your aunt and uncle's home unless you ask it of me. I will send you to live at the headquarters for the Order. That is the safest place outside of Hogwarts, and the ministry need not know where you are. You will enter school this fall as though nothing has changed. However, you will have to abide by very strict rules this year, rules that cannot be broken under any circumstance so that we do not give the ministry any opportunity to take you away.
If you agree to the plan I have laid out, there is no going back. You must keep this charade up until Voldemort is gone, or you and Severus will be at great risk. Not only would he discover your whereabouts, but he would also learn that Severus is a spy. Severus knows the fate of the man who is found to be a traitor in Voldemort's circle," Severus flinched violently, a faraway and haunted look in his eyes. "Not only will Voldemort kill him in the slowest way possible, but it will also give him an even stronger reason to hunt you down and kill you as well."
Dumbledore paused, letting his words sink in Harry's mind. It was difficult for someone like him to let Harry decide what he wanted to do in this matter, but he knew it was the right choice. He wanted the two men to trust him and this was the first step.
"Now," he continued. "I will not make you decide tonight. You should "sleep on it" as the muggles say and discuss it with each other."
"I'll do it," Harry said, suddenly bold. "I don't need to think it over. If you think that the best course of action is to put Harry Potter into hiding, then I will do it."
"Harry," Dumbledore said. "I do not want you to think you must do anything just because I want you to do it, or I think it is best. This is your life and you will live with the consequences of either path. I do not want you to be hasty in this decision."
"I understand, sir," Harry said, a fierce light in his eyes. "I trust you, professor, both of you. I know this will be very difficult, but I don't want to do this just to survive. I want to see if I can find a family in this war as well. I have lost too much already and I'm not going to risk losing another father before I get the chance to know him. Most of all, I don't want to live a lie anymore. But I understand, sir," he nodded towards Snape, "if you do not wish to do this. If you don't want to do this then of course I will respect that decision."
Snape stared at Harry, at his son. How old was this boy? He had been asking himself this question for a while now. How could he have missed this brave, intelligent, honorable young man sitting in front of him? He had seriously misjudged Harry.
"I too, know my course," he said. "If Mr. Po – Harry" he corrected with a smirk. "If Harry is willing to do this, I do not need any more time to consider the question. I know that we have had our struggles, Albus, but I am willing to put that aside and make this masquerade work. I actually think it to be one of your more brilliant plans. And – and I too, would like to find a family in the midst of this war." Harry smiled at him with such a joyous expression that Snape felt confident he had made the correct choice. Albus had been right, if he just gave the boy a chance, he would see that Harry has the amazing capacity to love and accept those who society rejects. The boy was truly remarkable.
"Thank you," Dumbledore said. Snape and Harry were surprised to hear that the voice sounds slightly choked up. "I appreciate your confidence in me. If you are sure that this is what you want, then I see no point in keeping the two of you up any longer. Harry, I am sure that you are exhausted and could use some more rest."
"What about his name, Albus?" Snape asked. "Surely he cannot go by 'Harry Snape.' That sounds absolutely ridiculous, not to mention a dead giveaway."
"Dante Alexander Snape," Harry said, closing his eyes. Snape stared at him, eyes wide. "That's what my mum called me. She said that the headmaster has my birth certificate."
"Indeed, I have that in my possession," Dumbledore smiled at him. "I will return it to you tomorrow morning. I will leave you two alone now. Try to get some sleep. You both have a long month ahead of you." The headmaster stood from the chair and walked out of the hospital ward, his eyes twinkling madly. Snape and Harry simply stared at each other in silence for some moments until finally:
"I remember," Snape said with emotion. Harry did not dare speak. "I remember the conversation Lily and I had about what we would name our first child. I had wanted to give you a family name, Devante, but Lily hated it. She thought it sounded far too formal, so she suggested Dante. At first I thought she had just shortened the name Devante, but then she explained her choice." Snape paused, lost in his memory that was just resurfacing.
"Wasn't Dante that muggle author who wrote about hell?" Harry asked curiously. "Aunt Petunia used to quote him whenever I did something wrong. She would describe all sorts of punishments that awaited me in hell for being an ungrateful burden. I'm sure the author was Dante." Harry said all of this in a nonchalant tone, as though the words had not affected him, but Snape was not fooled. He could see in the slight shifting of Harry's eyes that the words had hurt him deeply.
"That cold-hearted bitch. She said that to you when she had raised that whale of a son?" Snape stopped and breathed deeply, trying to suppress his anger. "Yes, you are correct. That was one of Lily's favorite authors. Dante Alighieri. When I asked her what she would name a child that, she laughed and said that if we ever had a son he would have to go through hell before he ever reached paradiso, given our situation." Snape looked at Harry. "She was more correct than she could ever have imagined."
"If you like, sir," Harry suggested. "We can have my full name be Devante Alexander, but I can just go by Dante. It would not be suspicious at all. I think it would be appropriate."
"Yes, I think that is a fine idea, and I think your mother would agree," Snape said. "I will inform the headmaster. It should not be too difficult to change the birth certificate. No one besides him has seen it, I'm sure. Although, now that I think about it, I cannot think why your middle name should be Alexander, unless…" he stopped to think. "Of course, the healer. They must have named you after her. I'm guessing it was she who delivered you and kept you out of the public until they could apply the appropriate appearance charms."
"Who are you talking about, sir?" Harry asked politely. He was completely lost now, and he suspected Snape was talking to himself more than to Harry. Snape looked at him, and Harry clarified. "The healer, sir? Who is the healer?"
"Oh, yes. That would be Healer Daine Alexander. She works for St. Mungo's," knowing that Harry would not be satisfied with such a short answer, he added, "She is one of Professor Dumbledore's oldest friends. She was his student once, over sixty years ago. She was a favorite of his, being particularly skilled in Transfiguration, which is the subject he taught before become headmaster. Any time someone has needed treatment in the utmost secrecy, Dumbledore brings them to her. She has treated me on a number of occasions. Lily was very fond of her, especially since she herself had wanted to become a healer. Healer Alexander is one of the best in the field and Lily hoped to arrange an apprenticeship with her."
"Will I ever get to meet her? I would like to thank her."
"I am sure that in time your paths will cross," Snape stood up and brushed non-existent dust off of his robes. "I will be back in a moment." He left in the direction of Madam Pomfrey's office, leaving Harry alone for a moment.
Was he ready for this? What would this next month hold for both of them? Good lord, some nice words and a few civil conversations and he had agreed to disguise himself as the man's son! Well, he would not really be disguised, per se, but no one would know the truth outside the four people currently in the castle. Harry wondered if he was prepared for the secrecy that would surround the entire situation. Footsteps rang across the ward announcing Snape's return. He carried a goblet in his hand and Harry immediately knew what it was.
"A dreamless sleep potion is in order," Snape said as he set the goblet down on the bedside table. "I know it may be early for you, but Poppy said that you will be rather tired for a few days. If you pass her check up tomorrow morning, you may move into my quarters if you desire. Or, you may stay here," he smirked. "But, I believe that you know better than most what a bear Poppy can be over her patients. It is your choice and you may tell me in the morning. I have also informed her of the circumstances concerning your name in case we have any unexpected visitors in the ward."
Snape turned to go when a quiet voice stopped him.
"Thank you, sir."
"There is no need to thank me, Harry," Snape said and then frowned. "And I think we need to come up with something else for you to call me besides 'sir.' It hardly seems appropriate."
"I – I'm sorry, sir – professor. I don't think I can call you 'father' just yet. Not that I don't want to!" he added hastily. "I just need time to get used to – to everything."
"I understand, Harry," Snape took pity on the young man. "Why don't you call me Severus? I think that is a suitable compromise." Harry's eyes bugged out. "If you have any better ideas, by all means, tell me. However, if that includes addressing me as 'greasy git' or 'bat in the dungeons,' please think again."
"I would never – that's so rude!" Harry spluttered and then studied the man's expression. "Are you teasing me?"
"Contrary to popular belief, I do have a heart that does more than blood and oxygen circulation. Besides, I know exactly what students call me when they think I am not listening, Harry."
"Dante, sir – Severus."
"Excuse me?" Snape asked politely, although he was very pleased that the child had called him by his first name so quickly. It sounded much better than the overly polite 'sir.'
"You shouldn't call me Harry anymore," he replied, smiling. "We both need to get used to calling me Dante so neither of us slips up when the staff and students arrive." Grabbing the goblet from the table, the boy who was no longer a Potter lifted it in mock salute towards the professor. With no further fuss, he downed the potion in one gulp. Struggling, he placed the goblet back on the bedside table and leaned back, his eyelids heavy. "Good night, Severus," he said, although he was not sure if the man heard him. He could barely hear himself.
"Good night, Dante," Severus said, also unsure if the boy could hear him. The boy in question, however, smiled slightly before drifting off into a dreamless sleep. Severus cast a concealing charm to cover up the lighting bolt scar. It would hold until they figured out something more permanent. He adjusted the pillows and covers on the bed. It was to make the child more comfortable, Severus told himself, but he could not help feeling that parental instinct was kicking in. Considering the idea utterly preposterous, he turned on his heel and swept out of the hospital ward, determined to make good use of the time before his son woke up the next morning. He had work to do.
HPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHP
(A/N: from here on out, I'm going to refer to Harry as Dante, and Snape as Severus. It will be less confusing for me that way)
When Dante awoke the next morning, he was surprised at how refreshed he felt. Well, sleeping for the majority of two or three days would do that to a person. Out of habit, he felt around for his glasses on the table before remembering that he no longer needed them. That was definitely a perk of this whole transformation thing. Being dependent on glasses could cost him his life in a dangerous situation if he were to lose them. Besides, they were a complete giveaway. The glasses were almost as trademark of Harry Potter as his scar was.
He sat up slowly just in case quick movement would disorient him. He did not want another episode of yesterday's falling off the bed. That would be embarrassing. Looking around the ward, he wondered if Madam Pomfrey would be mad if he got out of bed to stretch his legs. Dante threw off the covers, then replaced them, deciding it was not worth the risk of incurring her wrath. He flattened his hair against his forehead, wishing he knew a concealment charm. He grabbed the mirror that was still there from yesterday. Examining his feature, he was shocked to find that his scar was not visible. Who had hid it? It had to have been the professor. He would have to thank him again as soon as he saw him. The loss of the scar completely changed his appearance.
"Who might you be, young man?"
The familiar Scottish lilt put Dante into a complete state of panic for a few moments. He knew that his eyes were big as he stared at the Transfiguration professor he was not supposed to have ever met. Dante looked at his lap and forced himself to take deep breaths to calm his heart rate. Looking up at Professor McGonagall once more he politely asked:
"I'm sorry, ma'am. I'm afraid we have not met yet. Are you a professor here?" Oh yes, Dante knew exactly how to sound innocent yet keep the correct pinch of curiosity and uncertainty. Surprised at his polite tone, the professor's strict features softened slightly.
"I am Professor McGonagall. I teach transfiguration at this institution. Now, may I ask again –" before she could get the rest of her sentence out, another voice interrupted her.
"Mr. Snape! Do not even think of getting out of that bed, young man until I have had a chance to check up on you!" Dante had never been more grateful for Madam Pomfrey's impeccable timing as she bustled out of her office and over to his bed. Thrusting a slightly steaming goblet into his hand, Madam Pomfrey watched as he drank it without questioning her. He coughed and thumped his chest as it went down his throat.
"Wow, talk about a pick me up," he said, smiling at the healer. "Thank you, Madam Pomfrey. Shall I just sit here until you are finished?"
"Quite," she said shortly although Dante could see her trying to suppress a smile. She began waving her wand over his body. "Don't think that your charming smile will get you any favors from me. Many a student has already tried and failed spectacularly." Still muttering charms in between her sentences, Dante sat in silence and waited patiently for her to finish. "There, that should be all for now. Your vitals look good, but you will still need plenty of rest for a few days. When Severus returns, you may leave. If I hear of you over exerting yourself, young man, I will have you back in this bed and tie you down for a week!"
"I would never think to go against your express orders, Madam Pomfrey," Dante said smoothly, enjoying the playful banter. "Besides, I think that Severus would tie me here himself if he thought I was over exerting myself."
"Quite," she repeated. "He doesn't look it, but that man has a protective streak just waiting to come out. Mark my words, boy, he will certainly be strict with you as far as your health goes."
"Pardon me," Dante and Madam Pomfrey both turned to look at the woman they had completely forgotten about. Professor McGonagall looked back and forth between them, trying to figure out the piece of information she was not privy to. "Are you a distant relation of Severus? I did not know he had any living relatives left." Dante stared at her. He was not ready to begin the lies and deceit, not yet. Luckily, Madam Pomfrey saved him again.
"Please, Minerva," she laughed. "Don't tell me you can't see the resemblance between the two of them!"
"Forgive me, I just did not think that a distant relation would bear such a resemblance to Severus," She stopped, scrutinizing Dante. "You do look remarkably like him."
"Yes, well," Dante began, figuring he should speak up at some point. "That would be because I'm not a distant relation. I'm his son."
Dante expected shocked silence or stuttering disbelief. He was certainly not expecting laughter.
"My dear boy," McGonagall said, fighting to control her laughter. "I am too old for this kind of mockery. Everyone knows that Severus has never had a serious romantic interest, so for him to have sired a child is absolutely preposterous!"
"I assure you, ma'am," Dante said, quite annoyed, as Madam Pomfrey returned to her office. "Severus Snape is my father. He did not know about me until this past summer when my mother died. She kept me a complete secret to protect me from people who might use me." McGonagall stared at him, waiting for him to drop the serious look and shout, "Just kidding!" No such admission came.
"Good heavens," she looked at him closely. "You are telling the truth!" Dante sighed loudly, wondering if this was how every first encounter would go. "No, forgive me, child. I just didn't think that it was possible…" her next words surprised him greatly. "But how happy I am to know that you two have found each other after all these years. Out of anyone, he deserves to have a family. You will be attending school here, I presume? Oh, I have forgotten my manners. What is your name, child?"
"My name is Dante, ma'am, and yes, I will be a student here," he said, trying to remember what Dumbledore had constructed for his cover story. The details were hazy so Dante kept it as vague as possible. "I missed a bit of schooling and was unable to complete my OWL's last spring, so Professor Dumbledore and my – my father," he stumbled slightly over the word, "determined that I should begin in the fifth year this fall."
"I see," she said. "And what institution did you previously attend?"
Dante opened and closed his mouth, but could not think of an answer. Luckily, a voice (not Madam Pomfrey's) saved him from answering.
"He was privately tutored, Minerva," Severus' smooth voice calmed Dante instantly. "And before you ask, I am not at liberty to tell you whom. Trust me when I say that Dante is not incompetent. You may question him later about his knowledge, but now is not the time." He turned to his son. "Dante, has Madam Pomfrey checked up on you this morning?" Dante nodded, hoping to get out of the ward as soon as possible. "Very well, change into more appropriate attire and we shall leave."
He tossed a bundle towards Dante who caught it easily. All but flinging the covers off, Dante hurried behind the screen and discarded his hospital robe for real clothing. He was surprised to see that the clothes fit him near perfectly. Had Severus measured him? The mental image of the man with a tape measurer was laughable. While he was struggling with the button up shirt (this is why he stuck to jumpers and pull over shirts), he heard McGonagall asking more questions.
"Is the boy ill, Severus?"
"No, Minerva, he suffered a relapse from an injury he received last spring. He was healed in a muggle hospital and his leg has been giving him problems ever since. I asked Madam Pomfrey to take a look at him after he fell yesterday." Thank goodness for Sna – er – Severus. He wasn't a spy for nothing. Dante envied his ability to think quickly on his feet. Severus continued. "Why are you here, Minerva? Aren't you supposed to be at your niece's house?"
"Yes, I know I wasn't supposed to return for another two weeks, but I heard some news and it was too important to contact Albus by any means that could be intercepted." Dante stopped dressing to listen, then shook his head. He needed to get over this habit of eavesdropping. "Since you are here, perhaps you already know. My niece works for the ministry and she overheard someone say that Lucius Malfoy and some of his acquaintances have been missing for a few days. No one has heard anything from them. I became worried that they were on a mission for you-know-who, so I returned immediately to inform Albus."
"Well, perhaps I should not detain you any longer. I will let you talk to him. He should be in his office. The Dark Lord has not contacted me about this, so it is possible he does not know yet or it was he who has sent them on some sort of mission." Dante marveled at his ability to subtly evade saying whether or not he knew what McGonagall was talking about. He pulled on the robe and stepped out from behind the screen in time to see the older professor nodding towards Severus.
"Yes, Severus, I will go to him immediately," she looked at Dante. "Well, Mr. Snape, I am quite certain we will see each other soon. As I arrange the student's timetables, you and I should meet to determine what classes you will take. Good day, Severus." She walked out of the ward. Dante waited a few moments to be sure that they were alone before speaking.
"Thank you, Severus," he said gratefully. "I would have botched things up for certain if you hadn't arrived just then. She is very intimidating even when she doesn't want to be. Can we go now? No offense to Madam Pomfrey, but I really don't like to be in this place more than I have to. Where are we going?"
"One question at a time, Dante," Severus said, smirking at the boy's eagerness to leave the ward. "We will be going to my quarters, of course. I hope the dungeons are suitable to your taste?" he asked sarcastically as he opened the door to the ward.
"Trust me, sir, anywhere is better than here," Dante said in a stage whisper.
He followed Severus out of the wing and they walked in silence through the familiar corridors towards the dungeons. Dante was surprised to find that he could easily keep up with the professor and noticed that he was only a few inches shorter. This would take getting used to. As they passed the familiar stone wall that Dante knew led to the Slytherin common room, he smiled at the memory from Christmas of his second year. He had come a long way since that day. They took a left and walked along a corridor that Dante did not recognize although he was not shocked. He had never had any reason to spend exorbitant amounts of time down here until now. They stopped in front of a painting of a familiar looking man and it took Dante some moments to recognize him without the blood and chains.
"Is that, is that the Bloody Baron?" he asked incredulously.
"Of course it isn't. Don't you recognize the man?"
"Is this another dunderheaded student of yours, Severus?" the man in portrait sneered, looking Dante over with poorly hidden disdain. "Does Dumbledore force you to babysit even over the summer?" Dante wanted to rip the portrait to shreds in that moment, but decided instead to speak politely. The portrait did, after all, control who went in and out of Severus' quarters.
"Pardon my ignorance," he said without the faintest trace of sarcasm. "My education in important witches and wizards is severely lacking. I must ask for you forgiveness, I meant no insult. Would you honor me with your name, sir?"
"Hrm, I suppose you speak eloquently enough, boy," Dante tried to conceal the flinch at the word 'boy,' but Severus saw it and filed that piece of information away for later. "Since you obviously have no idea who I am, I shall enlighten you. I am Salazar Slytherin, boy, and you would do well to remember it." Dante's eyes widened.
"Salazar Slytherin!" he cried, only the name did not come out in English. A hissing sound escaped his lips instead. Slytherin looked at him in disbelief. Severus gave him a strange look. He had forgotten this particular talent of Dante.
"You speak the noble language of the snakes?" Slytherin asked in Parseltongue. "How is this possible?"
"Forgive me, sir," Dante replied smoothly. "You would have to ask Headmaster Dumbledore. I am not entirely certain of the details." Well, it was not a complete lie, but it was not the complete truth either. Dante figured that whatever answer Dumbledore could give Slytherin the portrait would have to live with it and Dante could avoid pestering questions.
"Hrm, well you speak the truth," Slytherin commented off handedly.
"How do you know?" Dante was curious. The man was a portrait for goodness sake!
"You cannot lie in Parseltongue, child, didn't you know?" Well, 'child' was better than 'boy.' The term was less abrasive, at least. "Go ahead, try and speak a lie."
"My name is – " Dante could not even get the beginning of a false name out of his mouth. No matter how hard he tried, he could not speak. It was as though his throat had closed up, like he was having an allergic reaction to something he had eaten. It was bizarre. It didn't hurt; he could still breathe somehow. He just could not speak a falsity.
"Now, Severus," the portrait had switched back to English. "Why didn't you tell me one of your students could converse in Parseltongue? I assume he is one of your house."
"Actually, he has not been sorted yet. I am sure that the headmaster will sort him with the first years once term starts in September."
"Is he not a student then, Severus?" Slytherin's gaze became more and more curious. "What is he doing here?"
"He is my son, Salazar."
"Ah, well he is obviously not a complete failure if you sired him," If Slytherin was surprised that Severus had a son he did not show it. Dante was very grateful not to have to put up with incredulous questions from the portrait. "I look forward to hearing of his progress this year."
"I look forward to telling you, Salazar," Severus said, nodding his head towards the portrait. "May I enter?"
"They are your living quarters, Severus."
"That they may be," Severus smirked. "But I find that keeping you in good spirits is always the best course of action."
"As slippery as always, my young friend," Slytherin laughed. Dante was having trouble connecting this man with the snide character he had been not five minutes ago. This was too weird.
Instead of giving a password, Severus pressed his thumb to a spot on the left side of the portrait's frame.
"I will key you into the wards next time we leave. It is a beautiful system and full proof. Not even polyjuice potion can fool it. It is keyed to your magical signature, not just your thumbprint. Polyjuice can only imitate a person's features, not give him that person's magical capabilities."
The portrait swung open to admit them. As they walked in, Dante could not help but ask:
"Why is Salazar Slytherin the portrait that conceals the entrance? Isn't it a bit obvious?"
"Yes, I suppose you are correct," Severus conceded. "However, no one would ever think to try and break into my quarters with him guarding it. I could have changed the portrait, but I confess that I find it difficult to procure any sort of decent conversation with most of the staff. Speaking with him is quite refreshing." He paused before adding. "You handled him rather well. I was surprised. He can be a difficult painting to get along with."
"It probably helped that I speak Parseltongue," Dante admitted. "I think it must have been ages since he spoke it to a living person."
"Yes, you are probably correct," Severus nodded. "But you also returned his sneers with polite words. Most teenagers would have smarted back. You did not lose your head or wear your emotions on your sleeve like you normally do."
"Something I've been working on, I guess," Dante ran a hand through his hair. "Being hot headed and rushing into things isn't very smart, but it's all I've ever known, to be honest. Until I came here, I didn't really have any adults to turn to if I was in trouble. It's been hard to adjust to, as my years at Hogwarts have clearly shown."
Dante stopped speaking to look around the room. He immediately felt at home. While he had not given much thought to what Severus' quarters would look like, he certainly did not imagine the sight that met his eyes. The place did not look like it belonged in the dungeons at all except for the lack of windows, nor did it look like a carbon copy of the Slytherin common room.
The room was large and circular with stone walls, although Dante could hardly see them because curved bookcases covered almost every available space. Hundreds of books filled the shelves and Dante had the feeling that Severus had read them all. He admired the deep, rich, mahogany woods of the furniture. A deep green couch with matching high backed, winged chairs sat at the center of the room, angled towards the large fireplace the took up a decent portion of the wall. Dante looked down and saw hardwood flooring where flagstone should have been.
A sudden thought strayed into his head, a daydream he had indulged as a child but never dared to try. He remembered the hardwood floors in the Dursley's house and remembered how much he had longed to slide up and down the hallways like Dudley and Piers had when Aunt Petunia wasn't home. Dante did not want to risk Dudley tattling to his aunt so he never tried. Now, he was dying to slide across the room in his socks, but had the feeling that Severus would not approve. The mental image of Severus joining him in this tomfoolery had Dante snickering out loud. Unfortunately for him, Severus thought the laughter had been directed at him.
"Does my home amuse you, Dante?" he asked silkily. Dante immediately stopped. "Were you expecting something more grand or ornate? By all means, enlighten me with your wisdom."
"Erm – no, sir!" Dante said quickly. "I was just picturing what would happen if I decided to slide across the floor in my socks. In my imagination you were, er, not pleased."
"Hrm, yes, that would be an understatement, Dante," Severus said, but Dante thought he could see the side of his mouth twitching. "I ask you to please refrain from behaving like an idiot while you are in my quarters. I do not want to be left with irreparable damage because you decide you cannot help yourself but indulge in childish actions, thank you."
"Of course, not, sir."
"Severus. It is not proper for my son to call me sir."
"Of course, Severus. But it's also not proper for a son to call his father by his first name." he added cheekily. He wondered how much sass Severus would tolerate from him. He wondered if that last sentence had been a good idea. Too late now.
"Well then," Severus smiled evilly. "Perhaps you would like to call me 'daddy' or 'pa pa'? I assure you if you try that I will have you pickling flobberworms faster than you can get those obscene names out of your mouth."
"But, Severus," Dante protested, smiling widely. "You are far too scary to ever go by 'daddy.' I would never even dare to call you that. Anyone who addresses you as such should be checked in to St. Mungo's for complete insanity."
"Indeed. If you follow me, I will show you your room for the next month."
"We are staying in the castle?"
"Yes, that is what the headmaster recommends. Would you rather go elsewhere?"
"No, it's just that I thought students weren't allowed to stay in the castle during the summer. I thought it was against the rules."
"Yes, that would normally be the case. However, the immediate families of the staff are allowed to reside here with permission from the headmaster. As you have probably noticed, most of the staff are old enough to have fully grown children and therefore do not need to house them here." Oh. Dante had never thought about any of his professors having families, especially ones like McGonagall or Flitwick. They were so… old.
Severus led him through a door on the right hand side of the living space and down a short corridor. As they passed each door, he explained what was behind them.
"This door on the left leads to my private lab and storehouse. Do not go in there without my permission. I have many delicate experiments that could go off at any moment and I do not wish to see you in the hospital wing until after school starts… This here on the right is the bathroom. We will share it, so try not fill it with inane items or spend exorbitant amounts of time in there. If you do, I will have to… discourage your habits… This door leads to my room. As with the lab, do not go in there without my permission. In the case of an emergency, you may knock loudly. I am a light sleeper, so that should be sufficient to wake me up… And this is your room."
They had reached the door at the very end of the corridor. Severus found that he was tongue-tied and merely opened the door. Steeping aside, he allowed Dante to enter the room first.
The room was spacious, more spacious than Dante would have ever thought. At least three of his room at the Dursley's could fit into here. The walls were neither Slytherin green or Gryffindor red, but a deep blue – almost black. The floor was made from the same hardwood material as the living area, but was mostly covered by a dark golden brown rug. An enormous four poster bed in the far left corner dominated the room. A small table stood next to it with a bookcase on the other side. At the foot of the bed, a large bureau lined the wall. Another bookcase occupied the far right corner and Dante saw books filling three of the shelves. The final corner, to his immediate right, was filled with two (two!) desks and a chair on wheels so he could navigate back and forth with ease. All of the wood was the same mahogany color Dante had seen a few minutes ago. He stared at it all, unable to speak.
'If you don't like it, it's very easy to fix," Severus said, nervous to see his son's reaction. "I didn't know what you wanted, but I thought the transition would be easier if I prepared a room for you in advance."
"Is this all for me?" the quiet response said more than Severus could have thought. "It's wonderful, Severus." He walked up to the bookcase and ran his fingers along the shelves as he read the titles. They looked oddly familiar. Pulling one off, he opened up to the inside cover and sure enough, there was his name scrawled in black ink. "Hey, these are my books! Where did you get them? My trunk should have been in my room back at my aunt and uncle's house."
"I took the liberty of retrieving your belongings last night. Your trunk is currently under your bed. I made sure to comb through your old room. You certainly have odd hiding places. A loose floorboard underneath your bed?"
"Oh good, you found my photo album and my – erm."
"Yes, against my better judgment I have not withheld your invisibility cloak with the promise that if you use it for any mischief this year I will take it for the rest of the term."
"I suppose that's reasonable,"
"Damn straight, it is."
"Look, Severus," Dante said. "Really. Thank you. I don't think you know how much this means to me. I feel like it's the first place I can call my own, like a home of sorts." Severus did not know what to say. To put it lightly, he was not used to dealing with sentimental teenagers. As if Dante had read his mind, he said: "I'm sorry, I'm probably freaking you out about now. I just want you to know how much I appreciate what you've done for me."
"You are… welcome, Dante," Severus said gruffly. "Now, perhaps you would like something to eat? In your haste to leave the hospital wing, I'm sure you forewent such a cumbersome task of eating under Madam Pomfrey's hawk eyes. You must be starving."
They walked back into the living room and Dante mused on how much it was a reflection of Severus: simple but graceful. He saw a tray of food sitting on the table next to the couch and wondered when it had arrived. Severus must have asked for it without him noticing. Unsure of where to sit, Dante stood there in awkward silence. Thankfully, Severus noticed and motioned for him to sit in one of the chairs without commenting at Dante's uncertainty. Pulling the table closer to the chair, Dante leaned over to pick up a glass of what was hopefully pumpkin juice when the table grew taller. He glanced over at Severus who had his wand out.
"Thank you," Dante said. "How did you do that? I mean, I know you can make objects larger, but how did you only make the legs of the table grow taller without altering the rest of it?"
"I'll show you when you are not so distracted by hunger," Severus said as Dante's stomach protested loudly that it wanted food. Smiling, Dante picked up his spoon and ate his porridge ferociously. He was starving. When he finished, he put down his utensil and slouched back into the chair. A house elf appeared with a crack, grabbed his empty tray, and disappeared with another crack. Dante wondered how the elf knew to come at that exact moment, but his brain was too sluggish to ponder it for long.
"So, erm, what do we do now?" Dante asked after a minute of silence. What did someone do here over the summer? He knew Severus would not allow him to wander about the castle on his own. He did not want to attract any unwanted attention to his person, especially since McGonagall's unexpected arrival that morning. Other professors might return and Dante did not want to be caught off guard.
"You avoid the mad rush of procrastination the night before classes begin and work on your summer assignments." Dante eyes bugged out. "Is this a normal course of action for a parent to take?"
"I wouldn't know, si – Severus," Dante mumbled, then exclaimed, "Who do I look like, Hermione know-it-all-overachiever Granger? Honestly, only she works on her summer essays this early in hols. Besides, what's the difference if I wait another two weeks to start? That's plenty of time to finish."
"You would be surprised how much faster you readjust to school if you study just a little every day over break. No, don't look at me like that," Dante was staring at him like he was mental. "I'm not asking you to slave away at your studies, I'm only asking for thirty minutes to an hour of your day. Is that honestly unreasonable?"
"What about outside?" Dante burst. "Am I stuck in here, day in day out with no chance of fresh air or… flying?" That last idea occurred to him in that moment. He could fly here with no chance of any muggle seeing him.
"I will propose a compromise, Dante," the boy looked at him skeptically, sure that this "compromise" would be in Severus' favor. "For every minute you spend on homework, I will give you a minute outside to engage in leisurely activities such as flying. I will ask the headmaster if he will allow you to study in the library if you so desire, otherwise you may work here or in your room. Occasionally, you may study outside, but only if you do not allow yourself to be distracted."
"That's… fair, I suppose. When do we start?"
"I do not see why now is not a good of a time as any," Severus was surprised to hear no protest from his son. Perhaps he could do this without royally botching everything. "If you apply yourself for the rest of the morning, you may have the afternoon outside doing whatever frivolous hobby you desire." Dante had to hold back a snort. Only the potions professor would refer to flying as a "frivolous hobby."
"OK, I'll go get my stuff and work out here."
He walked quickly to his room (his room!) and yanked his trunk from under his bed. Sifting trough his neatly arranged items, he paused. Normally, his trunk was in complete disarray with his books, clothing, and supplies tossed in helter skelter. Severus had not only retrieved his belongings, but he had put them in decent order. That man was being very confusing.
He pulled out his potions and charms textbooks along with his spare parchment when he noticed a rolled up piece smashed between a book and a spare trainer. Opening it, he recognized his own handwriting. This was the potions essay he had started that day at his relatives. He had completely forgotten about it until just now. The day that Severus recognized him seemed so long ago. His whole life had turned upside down in a matter of hours and he did not know what to think anymore.
Throwing his texts and spare parchment into his book bag, he slung it over his shoulder and stumbled back into the living room. These legs were going to take getting used to. He felt very gangly and wondered if he were taller than Ron now. The sudden thought of his soon-to-be former best friend sent another wave of sadness over him. Had he been too hasty in his decision? No, he told himself firmly. He did not want to continue living a lie out of fear of the unknown.
"Did you somehow smuggle alcohol into your system without my knowledge, or are you naturally that clumsy?" Severus smirked.
"Oh, shut up. I'm not used to being this tall and you very well know that!"
He dumped his bag on the ground next to the chair and pulled out his potions essay and textbook. He looked his assignment over to remind himself of what he had written. He paused and flicked his eyes up to see Severus, apparently absorbed in a thick tome. Deciding it was better not to interrupt, he smoothed out the crinkled parchment and wondered if he should just start over. Dante opened his book to the page discussing the usage of lovage in potions and his thoughts somehow strayed to his very first potions class where Severus had demanded to know the difference between monkshood and wolfsbane. Yes, things had certainly changed. He looked back and forth between his essay and the book but could not figure out anything else to write and his essay was still a few inches short. He slumped back into his chair, debating whether or not to ask for help. He did not want Severus to think he was just using the older man to get a decent grade on his essay. He had just decided that it would not hurt to ask the man for help when Severus himself spoke up.
"Are you going to sit there all day in a stupor, or are you going to ask me for help?" he inquired smoothly.
"I was just about to ask you, but I don't want you think I'm trying to cheat on my assignment or anything." Instead of responding verbally, Severus merely held out his hand for Dante's attempt at his essay ("Name four different potions that call for lovage and describe how different preparations of the ingredient could alter the potion."). Embarrassed, Dante handed his crinkled essay over to his father and waited nervously as the man read through it.
"It's absolute rubbish, I know, and it isn't long enough" he stammered when Severus lowered the essay and opened his mouth to say something. "I just couldn't find anything else in the text and I don't have any other books to look through, so I – "
"Will you let me speak?" Although Severus' voice was quiet, Dante immediately shut his mouth, flushing. "Before you began your incessant babbling, I was about to say that this draft is far superior to anything you have turned in to me before. If you had turned this in on a proper piece of parchment, it would have deserved nothing less than an EE. Of course, there are improvements to be made. Your handwriting, for instance, is atrocious, but the content is not rubbish at all."
"But it's not even the correct length and I basically copy information from the book!"
"That is why I would have given it an EE." Dante opened his mouth to protest again but Severus spoke first. "Listen to me carefully. When I assign an essay, I do not want you to simply write down everything you possibly know about the topic. I want a thoughtful, well researched and fleshed out exposition about the assigned question. While Miss Granger certainly provides information, she is too focused on fitting too much information into a single essay and strays from the proposed subject. That is why I have not given her an O on an essay. A cliché, I'm sure, but the quality, not the quantity of your words is what is important. An essay that receives an O is one that takes the presented information and goes beyond parroting it back. It often arrives at an unexpected or original conclusion. It demonstrates that the writer truly thought about the subject matter. Does that make sense?"
"I think so," Dante said, grabbing his essay back when Severus offered it.
"So name for me again the four potions you chose to write about."
"OK," Dante said, looking at his essay for another reminder. "Well, the obvious one would be a Befuddlement drought, because that's the first potion in the book that calls for lovage. Then there's the boil salve; the section in 1001 Herbs and Fungi mentioned that one. The last two I picked were the fever-reducing potion and Amortentia, the love potion."
"So why did you chose the fever-reducing potion and Amortentia? Did either text connect those potions with lovage?"
"Yeah, they were all mentioned in 1001 Herbs and Fungi, but I'm not sure why."
"Open your text to that section and look at the various properties of lovage and tell me why you might want it in any of those four potions."
"OK," Dante opened to the correct page and skimmed the section. Thinking out loud he said, "Well, the book says that lovage was often used in muggle lore as an antiseptic, so… if that's true, then it would be a good addition to the boil salve." Severus nodded, giving Dante confidence to continue. "And, here it says that lovage can cause inflammation of the brain, so when you mix it into a Befuddlement drought or Amortentia, it probably inflames whatever part of the brain that deals with comprehension or love. That causes the drinker to act differently than he normally would, because his brain is stimulated in the wrong way."
"Very good," Severus said encouragingly. "And what about the fever-reducing potion?"
"Well," Dante looked at the passage again. What would help bring a fever down? He spotted it. "Here, the book says that lovage naturally causes perspiration, so it would be in a fever-reducing potion to help bring down the fever? That's why one of the side effects of the potion is sweating!"
"Yes, and those are the connections I am looking for. Adding that into your essay demonstrates that you are actively engaging with the text and what we are doing in class, as well as a commitment to learning." Severus paused, appraising his son. He had thought Dante to be rather hopeless at potions, but perhaps with the proper tutoring, he could perform well in the class. After all, Dante could not be the first Snape to besmirch the family name in the potions classroom. That would not do. "Now, your description of the various preparations of lovage is very detailed. There is little to change there. My suggestion is to go back and add in what you just told me. Try to write it legibly. If I cannot read it, I will not grade it."
"Wait, that's it?" Dante asked, confused. Surely, Severus had another critique for his essay.
"Yes, the essay is well written and shows me that when you apply yourself to your studies, you have the potential to be a great student. I think your grades have never been at the top because you spread yourself to thin and somehow get tangled up in whatever trouble is hounding the castle."
"Erm, thanks, Severus, but I don't think you are right about that." Dante murmured. Severus had never said anything nice about his in relation to his intelligence, much less praised him on his schoolwork. He did not know how to react to this new side of him.
"I do not exaggerate, Dante," Severus said seriously. "If I give praise to something, I do no do so lightly." Feeling embarrassed for some reason, Severus quickly changed the subject. "Now, why don't you put that essay aside and come back to it later. Grammatical mistakes are much easier to catch with a fresh eye."
Dante set his crumpled essay and potions text on the ground next to the chair and pulled out his charms textbook. His heart felt light, as though the large weight that had burdened him all summer had vanished with Severus' last words. Suddenly, the desire to please his father overwhelmed him. Bringing up his marks next year would be difficult without Hermione to help him, but he would work hard. He would prove Severus proud. He had to.
A/N: next chapter will hopefully be up in another two weeks