A/N: I was going to include more of Tobias's mysterious background, but I've decided to save that so this chapter doesn't get too bogged down. As always, enjoy.
Letting Go
Holding a sleepy Harrison against his left shoulder, Snape silently followed his father through the small limestone cottage. As they walked down the darkened hallway, he glanced at either side of him, noting a few cheap paintings on the walls and the chipped paint on the doors. It wasn't long after that his father stopped at one of these doors and slowly opened it.
"It ain't much, I know," Tobias quietly said with a shrug. "Haven't had a lot of visitors actually."
Or any visitors, Snape thought silently as he looked around the sparsely furnished room. A bed, credenza, and small writing desk with folded-up chair were the only items in there. "It'll do. Thank you." He caught his father's slight hesitation then, as if the man wanted to pat him on the back or something, before Tobias's head dipped forward.
"Night, son." Quietly walking away, Tobias left Snape and Harrison.
As soon as his father had went into another room and shut that door, Snape sighed, closing the door to his spare room as well. He turned back and shook his head.
Not a single room he had so far seen in his father's cottage had that homey feel to it. In fact, each one just seemed to remind him more and more of what he would imagine the cells in Azkaban looked like. An image of the old row house on Spinner's End then flashed in his mind followed quickly by the apartment his mother was living at with Roger, her boyfriend of nine years. Every place he had ever lived had that familiar feeling of a cage. Except Hogwarts, that was, but he had a feeling that would have changed in the future judging by his future self's sudden appearance.
He glanced down at Harrison, catching the toddler's sleepy gaze. "Depressing, isn't it?" Shaking his head slowly at the sight of the little boy's yawn, he headed over to the small bed and sat down on its edge. It wouldn't be long before the toddler would be out like a light. In fact, by his calculations, the more he talked, the quicker it'd likely take to put Harrison into baby coma—or what Snape hoped was baby coma so he could have the chance to recuperate and plot out his next actions without any interruptions. When he noticed those beautiful green eyes of his childhood love staring back up at him again, he sighed inwardly, feeling a familiar urge to divulge everything at once. "I know. I shouldn't have come here. It's only going to lead to heartbreak." He then frowned as the green eyes stared back and demanded the truth from him like always. "On your part, of course. He couldn't hurt me anymore if he tried. I'm not the stupid ten-year-old boy, who makes all the pathetic excuses in the world for him anymore. So, it won't bother me any when he disappoints yet again." Even he didn't believe his own lie there. "Nothing he could say could change my mind about him." Perhaps it was exhaustion playing tricks on him or just plain madness at this point, but Snape could've sworn Harrison had given him the old 'Oh, really?' look right then. "It couldn't!"
Running a hand through his long black hair, Snape let his shoulders sag a moment later. Oh, whom was he kidding? Harrison was right. Deep down, the young man still cared for his father. Even if the man did abandon his wife and child and leave them to the wolves.
When Harrison made some indiscernible sound, Snape turned his attention back to the toddler and noticed the questioning look on the child's face—or perhaps it was another look. He couldn't really tell. The boy was always making faces, even though he was clearly tired.
"Don't you think if I had some other place to go, I'd have taken us there instead?" Snape asked the one-year-old who was staring intensely at him and making Snape feel extremely guilty. "Well, I would have. Anywhere but here. But where would we go? A hotel? Like I have the money for that long term. Don't even get me started about Dumbledore's spies everywhere, who would report your sudden appearance instantly. Hogwarts is out as long as I have you as well. I can only imagine the looks on their faces when they saw you. They'd all know whose child you were." He tried to keep the bitterness out of his voice, but failed unfortunately. "And my mother's apartment?" He scoffed, rolling his eyes as he glanced up at the ceiling. "I haven't been there since the summer before my seventh year." Sneering at a distant childhood memory, he shook his head. "Even if I had been back there long before now and given Mother no reason to kill me the next time she saw me, I'd not take you there. Not as long as that bastard's there with her." Pure hatred seeped into his voice as a memory flashed behind his dark eyes.
"Well, well, if it isn't my good-for-nothing stepson," snidely remarked a tall, muscular man as he leaned against a wall in the Muggle part of King's Cross station. "They teach you anything up at that fancy school of yours this year?"
"Where's Mother?" the sixteen-year-old Snape asked, glancing around the area. She had always come before. It had been a little ritual of theirs, in fact. She'd pick him up and they'd talk the whole drive home to her apartment she shared with Roger.
"Not here, Genius. She's too busy working her arse off trying to support you, her loser son."
The teenager bit his cheek to keep his temper in check. He knew Roger was baiting him. Like always. He wouldn't let the man win this time. Not when he knew the man didn't fight fair.
"Well, come on then. We don't have all damn day." Roger turned and headed towards the nearest exit. Snape quietly followed, wishing he had been able to Disapparate already.
When they finally reached the car, the sixteen-year-old put his stuff in the back obediently and hopped into the front passenger's seat. He caught Roger's immediate look of disgust but turned away and glanced out the window. He hoped the hours passed by quickly. At hearing the engine turn over and feeling the car start to move, the teenager felt himself start to relax. Just a bit, though.
"So, I see your girlfriend's not with you this time," Roger remarked after a few miles.
"She's not my girlfriend," the young man replied, just barely keeping the anger from his voice.
"No? You sure follow her around like a puppy dog, though." Roger then laughed darkly. "So, what happened? She finally wake up and realize what kind of pathetic loser you are?"
Snape clenched his teeth, biting his tongue, though. He would not let Roger win. Not this time.
"Or something else?" Roger smirked when the teenager became even angrier. "Let me guess."
"Shut. Up," Snape hissed. He was still reeling over the hurt from losing his best friend.
The smile vanished instantly from Roger's face. "What'd you say to me?"
"I said, 'Shut up," the sixteen-year-old repeated, glaring daggers at the older man. When the car suddenly swerved and came to a complete stop, the teenager felt a slight surge of fear rush through him. But there was some other feeling as well, something new. However, before he could figure it out, Roger had backhanded him. Then a fury of blows started coming, one right after another.
"You listen to me, you little shit! If it wasn't for your mother caring so damn much about you, I'd have taken you out of the picture long ago!" Roger snarled, still landing hard punches against the cowering teenager. "You do not tell me what to do! Ever! Understand?!" When Snape didn't respond, Roger hit him once more hard in the side. "Answer me, you pathetic coward!"
"I got it . . . I got it," the sixteen-year-old obediently cried, wanting the pain to stop.
"Excuse me?" Roger hissed.
"Sir! I got it, sir!" Snape kept his arms up covering his head.
"You better." Roger then snatched a hold of the teenager's chin, wrenching his head to force Snape to look at him. "Or else Mummy dearest is going to go away, far far away. But don't you worry, Severus." Roger smirked darkly, patting the teenager's bruised cheek playfully. "I'll make sure she enjoys herself too before I'm done with her." He chuckled when Snape's eyes flashed. "What's that?"
The sixteen-year-old, however, looked away, biting his cheek so hard that he drew blood.
"Good boy," Roger mocked before he continued their long drive back.
The twenty-one-year-old shook the rest of the memories away. It wasn't as if it would do any good to dwell on the past anyway. After all, his mother hadn't. In fact, when he had begged her to leave Roger once, not long after that event actually, she had told him that he needed to get over his daddy issues because Roger was a good man—better than Tobias ever had been. Of course Snape hadn't helped his cause by lying to her that day and explaining his black eye and other bruises away as his being in a schoolyard scuffle on the train ride home.
Soft gurgling beside him drew Snape back out of his thoughts. He glanced at Harrison and sighed quietly. The boy was, no doubt, exhausted. At least, Snape knew he himself was. His dark eyes glanced about the room briefly, looking at the few pieces of furniture one last time. For a moment he considered transfiguring the desk into a crib, but he wisely decided against it, knowing his use of magic would only draw attention to them. If he could, he wanted to delay the inevitable meeting with the Aurors as long as he could.
"I don't suppose if I put you on the floor, you'll stay out of trouble, will you?" Snape asked the one-year-old. He forced a quiet laugh when he caught Harrison's 'What do you think' look. "Yeah, that's what I thought." He then glanced sideways at the bed they were sitting on, sighing loudly.
With the bed pushed into a corner, it was possible, Snape thought, that he could make sure that Harrison didn't crawl away and hurt himself. Only he'd have to hold the small toddler in his arms all night. Snape winced at this thought. He hadn't even liked to sleep holding teddy bears when he was younger. Yet here he was, considering holding a child against him. Though, it wasn't just any child, he reminded himself quickly. This was Lily's child.
His heart throbbed at thinking her name. When he was thirteen, he had convinced himself that he and Lily would marry and have loads of kids together, so happy and in love. When he was fourteen, he revised that perfect future to being just him and Lily, still being so happy and in love. When he was sixteen, though, he started to discover that his ideal future with the beautiful, green-eyed redhead was just a pipedream and began lying to himself to protect it and himself.
As his fingers brushed against the crisp edge of the envelope that contained Lily's letter, Snape closed his eyes. The truth that he had worked so hard to fight against over the years was just there in his pocket. All he had to do was just open it and read her letter. His older self hadn't died from learning her true feelings for him, he knew. In fact, the older man had admitted that Snape would somehow actually find the strength to move on from Lily after reading her letter. So it was possible. But without her . . .
"Then I'm utterly alone," Snape quietly whispered, finishing his thought aloud. When he felt Harrison nuzzle against him a moment later, he glanced down at the little boy. He watched Harrison for a few seconds before drawing the sweet boy into his arms and laying down somberly. No, that wasn't the case anymore. Without Lily, Snape and Harrison had each other. They weren't alone, and they wouldn't ever be. His future self had ensured that by bringing the boy to him instead of Petunia.
When Harrison tilted his head slightly and glanced up at him, Snape resisted the urge to smile. There was just something about this boy. He couldn't explain it quite yet.
"Sometimes I'm a dunderhead, aren't I?" He silently laughed when Harrison giggled before he yawned and nuzzled into him further, clearly preparing himself for sleep. Hesitating just for a moment, Snape then gently rubbed the toddler's back. "Sleep well, brat."
He continued to rub Harrison's back for several minutes to make sure the boy fell into a deep sleep. When he was convinced that there'd be no chance of the boy waking, Snape finally then pulled the sealed envelope out of his pocket. As absurd as it was, he didn't want the boy to see the letter or its reaction it had on him. Then again, Snape knew he was one who valued privacy above all, having had none of it lately thanks to Dumbledore and the Dark Lord.
Quietly, he pulled the letter out of the envelope, his eyes instantly recognizing the familiar neat and graceful handwriting. Swallowing back his emotions, he readied himself to read what Lily's last words to him were. With his mind emptied now, he drew in a slow, deliberate breath and started to read.
Professor Dumbledore tells me that I have you to thank for why James and I are in hiding currently. So, congratulations, Sev. You've managed to sink even lower than I would have ever given you credit for. Of all the stupid things I thought you'd do, this was not one of them. Did you honestly think by putting my family in danger that I'd just leave them and go back to you instead? If that's the case, well, one of us is an idiot, and it certainly isn't me.
He argued, of course, that it was a mistake you deeply regret. But we both know that's bullshit. The only thing you regret is putting my life in danger. You don't give a damn about James or my son. Let's be honest after all. You have always wished James was out of the picture. Not just because of our Hogwarts' years, but because he made a move on me when you were too much of a damn coward to.
I've been locked up in this damn place for so long because of you that I've had lots of time to recall our times together, Sev. You know what I realized finally? All those times you told me what a horrible person James was, that he wasn't the man everyone thought he was—none of it was for my benefit. You weren't being the hero there and protecting me from the big bad Potter. No. You were manipulating me to make sure that I stayed being your possession. That I stayed being your sweet, naive Mudblood that you could play with whenever you wanted. Well, guess what, Sev? It took me several years, but I finally figured it out.
All this time I had wondered if your insane jealousy and possessiveness were because you fancied me. But you showed me the truth. Want to know how I figured that one out, Sev?
Look at your left forearm where you proudly wear your Dark Mark. If you had truly loved me, you would never have joined that evil. You would never have given your soul to a monster bent on destroying people of my birth. Of your father's birth.
Oh, I know. You're likely fit to be tied right now arguing how wrong I am. How if I had just forgiven you that day when you begged on your knees that none of this would have happened. That we would have still been best friends and all would be right with the world. Only, Severus, that, too, is a lie.
You hate Muggles and Muggleborns with every fiber of your being. If you had your way, you'd have exterminated us long ago. Because in your eyes, we are all filth. Subhuman creatures who need to be put out of our misery. To you, we deserve to be slaughtered by the millions because we don't deserve to breathe the same air as you and your brothers.
Again, I know. I'm too special in your eyes to be subjected to any level of that hatred on your part. Because I'm your Lily. But we both know, Severus, that it wouldn't have ever worked between us. Your heart is filled with so much hatred and darkness, whereas mine is filled with love and lightness. Even without that, you still have the fact that you joined the Death Eaters, a group whose main purpose in life is to destroy families and kill people they see unfit to live. Then, we have the fact that there is no way that you would ever be allowed to be with me while being in their ranks. I'm the enemy after all.
Professor Dumbledore told me how you begged him and your master to spare me. If you think for even a moment that you are that important that your master would do such a kind action for you and spare your Mudblood girlfriend, then you're all sorts of messed up, my friend.
If I'm wrong, however, and your master does, in fact, offer me a choice, let me be clear. I will never choose you, Severus Snape. Never! Why? Because you never chose me.
I forgave you long ago for calling me that slur and for everything else that occurred between us. Do you know why I didn't tell you this, though? Why I brushed you off that day in Gryffindor Tower? I didn't tell you because words mean nothing to you. Let's be honest again, shall we? I told you time after time that I hated you being around Avery and Mulciber all the time. I told you repeatedly that your using Dark Magic frightened me. Yet, you didn't care. You brushed me off, so I brushed you off just the same, hoping that my cold actions would be a wake-up call to you.
All you had to do was show me, prove to me that you were the same sweet Severus I knew when we were younger. The begging and pleading with me wasn't showing me that. You had done all that before. I needed you to show me that you weren't that monster I feared you were becoming. That you would fight against the darkness that was around you. That you'd be the stronger man. Instead, you ran to your master with open arms, embracing his hatred and evil. You escaped your pain by taking the coward's approach, Severus, when I had stupidly believed and hoped you'd take the other.
I made excuse after excuse for you. I fought all my housemates for you. But in the end, it wasn't enough. You did this. Not me. You. You could have fought against them harder. You could have turned a cheek to all that darkness. You could have been the man I thought you were. But you didn't. Instead, you became a cowardly murderer, determined on hurting others to avoid your own pain. You destroyed our friendship. And now you've decided to destroy my family as a result. But listen closely, Severus.
It won't work. You can beg You-Know-Who and promise him your soul for all I care for me, but I will never be yours again. I will not subject myself to the darkness you've embraced and be suffocated by you any longer. I will not. I would rather choose death than to live that sort of life with you.
For the first time in a long while, Severus, I am happy. Truly happy. I love James with all my heart. I admit I loved you at one point as well, but that was such a long time ago and before I shed so many tears for you. If I'm wrong and all this jealousy and possessiveness you've displayed around me over the years is, in fact, a result of you loving me, then please, Severus, I beg of you, let me go. Save us both the heartache and pain, and let me go in peace. We both know a relationship would never work between either of us. We want different things in life. And, honestly, I don't think I could ever look at you now and see the innocent boy I grew up with. All I would see is the murderer, the bigot, the coward you've become. I'd see all the blood that's on your hands, all the mothers crying for her dead children. I would hate my life and be so miserable. I'd likely even take my own life to escape the prison you put me in. You deserve someone who accepts all of you, the good and the bad, and that's not me. Not anymore. I just don't have that in me anymore. We both know this. Let me go, Severus, and be happy.