Chapter 5
~five years later~
Darkness had fallen over the castle for another night. It was late in the evening and Severus slept in his huge bed peacefully. Winter already claimed the school and the castle glowed warmly from the fires lit within. Harry slept in his 'big boy' bed without the bars on the side. He twisted and turned on his bed, voice crying out softly as he jerked awake from his nightmare. In a smooth and experienced movement, he bolted out of the bed and scurried over to the door connecting his room to Snape's. He creaked it open slowly in the darkness and peeked in, his weak eyes hardly able to make out the sighing breathing of the sleeping man. He waited silently for the sound of rustling sheets as his father awoke. "Eh?"
"Daddy?" Harry whispered.
"Harry?" Snape's tired voice came from the darkness. He sounded concerned, but the wake-up call wasn't unexpected. "Are you all right?"
The six year old walked in to the room to the edge of the bed. "Daddy," he murmured fearfully. "I had a scary dream."
A moment or two passed. With a gentle, understanding sigh, Snape started to move over on the bed. Harry smiled in the darkness and clambered up on to it, sneaking underneath the covers. He lay his head down on the pillow and closed his eyes to sleep. His bangs flopped down so that his scar was shown. Snape reached a hand forward and brushed his hair softly. He smiled to the boy tenderly, "How many times have I told you not to call me daddy?" he whispered, wondering if the child heard him.
"You are my daddy," Harry replied softly, voice already growing tired with sleep.
After a quiet moment of Snape not answering, he spoke. "What was your nightmare about?" he asked gently.
In the blanket of the night, Snape needed to strain his ears to hear the child murmur out, "There was a scary man, and he came to me in my bed. He pointed a wand at me and some green lightning came out. Then I woke up. It was scary."
A tremor passed down Snape as Harry finished this tale, and he shifted closer to the boy so he could hold him close, relaxing when he felt the boy's small form in his arms.
"I won't let the scary man hurt you," he murmured.
The next morning, Snape woke up with Harry cuddled close to him. The professor kissed the top of the boy's head as he gave a contented sigh. His hands stroked the boy's hair and with a heavy sigh, he stood to prepare for breakfast.
Harry walked in to the Great Hall holding Snape's hand and smiling broadly. His small glasses were on his face, his hair tousled and unbrushed.
"Hey Harry!" one of the girls at a table called.
"Hi!" he responded, bounding over to her and letting go of Snape's hand where he took his place at the table. Snape continued on through the hall to the front of the room where the teachers were eating. He took his place next to McGonnagal, curtly nodding to her with a grunt, wherein she smiled warmly to him as she greeted him with a good morning, echoed from the other teachers. Over the few years, the two became comfortable friends with each other, as long as the other teachers.
"Good morning, Severus. You slept well?" she asked.
He nodded back. "Yes, thank you. Harry had another nightmare last night."
At this, she turned to look at him questioningly. "Another?" she asked.
Snape moved his head up and down in a curt nod, exchanging a look with her so understanding moved through her. She blinked, eyes narrowing. "I see," she started. Behind her eyes, fear glowed. "Is-"
"Yes," he answered softly, able to guess her question. "In his dreams he sees the Dark Lord." At his last murmur, Snape whispered the title softly.
The Transfiguration professor glowered at the ominous news brought to her. She dared to ask, "Severus, do you plan on informing the Headmaster of this?"
"What other choice do I have?" Snape muttered softly.
Before Harry and McGonnagal's eyes, the scene shifted, smoke and time moving past them until it showed Snape standing in Dumbledore's office. The older Harry looked nervously at an equally calm McGonnagal, her eyes dark, foreboding. Harry could tell she knew he wanted an answer, but she kept her eyes trained on the scene, nodding at it before Harry could ask anything.
"Bad dreams you say?" Dumbledore asked.
"Yes. Frequently. He's frightened to go to bed now."
Dumbledore lifted his eyes. "And in these dreams, he has visions of Voldemort, correct?"
"Yes," Snape answered solemnly, eyes cast down.
The brilliant wizard looked away in thought, eyes narrowing down in deep, frustrated concentration. "How long has Harry been experiencing these nightmares?" he questioned.
Snape paused in thought, answering firmly, "Since he was five."
"Three years," the aged wizard sighed, pulling off his glasses as he rubbed his temples. He looked up, locking eyes with the Potions professor, a sadness beginning to grow behind his orbs. "That is a long time to suffer," he determined sadly.
Snape shuddered from where he stood, eyes darkening. Dumbledore and the professor met eyes, the headmaster blinking sadly. "Severus," he murmured. "I think you know what you have to do."
After a moment confusion, Snape understood what the Headmaster implied. Pain twisted, quick and harsh across Snape's face. He trembled, palms growing cold and clammy. "Headmaster, no. I don't think I can. . ." He looked desperately to Dumbledore. "Please. There has to be some other way."
"Severus. There's nothing more we can do. The boy being here is strengthening the connection he has with Voldemort." Dumbledore met Snape's eyes calmly, coolly, and with as much kindness as he could muster. "If there was any other way to avert this, I would not hesitate to put it to action, but it's too late now. There's nothing you or I can do. He's been safe here, but this is the only way." Pain glimmered in tears past Dumbledore's eyes. "Do you understand, Severus?"
Closing his eyes with hurting acceptance, Snape murmured, "Yes. I understand."
Harry looked to his professor in confusion as the scene faded, changing and twisting. "Professor. . ." he drawled. "This can't be right. I lived with the Dursley's for nearly eleven years. This must be a trick; it can't be real."
McGonnagal nodded firmly, sadly. "Mr. Potter, I believe if you keep silent for a few more moments, you will understand."
Obeying, Harry looked back to the memories.
The scene before him now portrayed Snape walking along the halls with an older Harry at his side. He was still young, around eight or nine, but Harry could still read the youth and aging in his face. The boy was babbling on happily.
"And after that, Professor McGonnagal turned this piece of paper into a butterfly and it flew around the room. I tried catching it, but the older kids were keeping it away from me, but that was okay because we were all having a lot of fun. Professor says we can do that again next time I'm in her class and oh I just can't wait to start going to school here, Dad, it's going to be so much fun and you'll be my teacher and I'll be the best student here!"
The talking didn't stop there, and it made the present Harry smile to see his younger self, but his heart still trembled at the sight of all this. It couldn't be really real, could it?
Snape's face was stone cold, unresponsive to his son as he continued babbling on excitedly, completely oblivious of his father's silence. Harry just jumped along, chattering as fast as possible, green eyes gleaming brilliantly as they headed to the hall for dinner.
Throughout dinner, Snape didn't speak to any of the other teachers, and McGonnagal looked almost hurt when she didn't get much conversation out of Snape, but she shrugged it off and continued speaking to Professor Grubbly-Plank. All the while, the potions master kept his dark eyes trained on his son, tears lining his vision as he looked over the bright, smiling face as he talked excitedly with other students, all from different houses.
Everything was coming to an end.
(**)
That night, Snape tucked Harry into bed, just like every other night. The boy was changed into his pajamas, his glasses resting on the stand beside his bed. The magically enchanted walls watched with blinking eyes and wondering minds as the father turned off the light and kissed his son good-night.
"Love you, Dad," the boy murmured in the dark as Snape made his way to the door.
Snape kept himself from turning, pale hands clenching the door frame, voice choking out, "I love you too, son."
Harry fell asleep, a smile warm on his face.
Snape retired to his couch. He grabbed a book from his shelf and sat to read it, but after fifteen minutes of staring at the same page, same paragraph, same word, the professor gave up. He placed the book on the floor, hands shaking. His heart thudded violently inside his chest as he leaned back in the chair, trying to control his breathing.
After a long 15 more minutes, the clock struck on the hour. Rising from his chair, Snape tip-toed to the door leading to Harry's bedroom. He eased it open slowly, the hinges making the softest creaks. Moving at the speed of a worm, Snape entered the room. Judging from the sound of Harry's breathing, the professor knew his son was asleep.
His son. When did he begin to think of Harry as his son? When did he begin to care for him? It happened so fast he didn't have time to dwell on it.
Harry. His son.
Moving with the most judging footsteps, Snape approached the bed. With trembling hands, he pulled his wand from the depths of his cloak. He looked into the face of Harry, a peaceful smile stretched over his face. Snape swallowed back the tears rising in his throat, doing his best to control his breathing as he aimed the wand at Harry's head.
His words were barely a whisper, the spell the worst of spells as he whispered out, "Oblivio."
There was no dramatic lightning, no flashes of light, just a softening expression as it twisted over Harry's face. Snape tightened his grip on the wand as he lowered it to his side, shaking almost uncontrollably now as he sat next to Harry. He pulled the now unconscious body into his lap, his arms tightening around him as he whispered into the darkness. "You'll never remember me, not like this. You'll never remember the days we spent together, nor will you remember the times you had at the school."
Tears could be heard in Snape's voice as he pressed his nose into Harry's messy hair. However, he did what was best, and he kept the tears back. Taking in a breath, Snape whispered, "But even though you won't be able to recall anything. Just remember, Harry." Voice even more gentle, Snape murmured, "Don't forget: I love you."
Harry started. He trembled where he stood, gawking at the scene before him. At his side, his hands clenched in near disbelief. How could this all be real?
Again, the scene moved as he watched Snape lift Harry from his bed. His cloaks trailed out behind him as the younger Harry curled closer into Snape's arms. The professor walked swiftly through the halls, quickly murmuring the password to enter Dumbledore's office. He walked quickly up the stairs, nearly tripping on the last one as he clutched Harry as close as he could.
The present Harry walked towards Dumbledore, who sat at his desk, as usual. Even in the far past, he could always be found in his office, at his desk.
Snape approached the desk, cradling Harry with the gentlest of movements. Dumbledore looked up, eyes saddening at the sight of Snape holding his son. "Hello Severus. Is he-"
"Yes. The spell is completed," he murmured. "I have his things packed."
Dumbledore nodded, standing. "I will have them brought along. Are you ready?"
Snape shifted, eyes melting as Dumbledore came to him. Placing a hand on Snape's shoulder, the two Disapparated.
When Snape opened his eyes after the wind died down, he found himself on a secluded street before a quaint little house. He released his breath, and moving as carefully as he could, the wizard approached the Dursley house.
Harry shifted where he stood, adjusting his glasses as he looked around, waiting for the scene to change again, but instead, he felt a cold rush flow through his chest. It felt as his lungs were about to burst from freezing water, but then, it was gone, and he could breathe.
The professor and Harry took in a deep breath of fresh air. Harry clenched his hands around the rim of the Pensieve, knuckles white. He looked to McGonnagal.
"Professor?" he murmured. "That wasn't. . ."
"It was," she murmured. "This was real, and I apologize for keeping it a secret from you for so long. Severus and Dumbledore swore me to secrecy afterwards, along with the other staff. A look of pain flashed over her face. "He loved you very much, Mr. Potter. It nearly broke him in half when he had to give you to the Dursley's, and even worse when he saw how awful they treated you. He grew so cold and did everything he could to treat you the way he did when you finally did come to Hogwarts."
She heaved a heavy sigh, looking to Harry sadly. "Anyway, I'm just glad you know the truth now."
Harry stared at her again, his head throbbing, unsure of how to receive all of this new information. McGonnagal kept her eyes gazing at him, waiting to see how he would accept this new information, if he could grow to accept it at all.
At last, the Chosen One nodded, "Thank you, Professor."
With a swift movement, Harry left the headmistress's office.
early morning at Godric's Hollow
Harry entered into his house silently, not turning any of the lights on as he made his way into the kitchen. He mechanically made a pot of coffee, hands gripping the edges of the counters, eyes distant in thought.
Already Harry had a strong respect for the wizard who saved his life countless times as well as his friends, but this was so strange. It felt unfathomable. Why didn't he ever tell him? Not even in his final moments?
Carefully, he slid off his glasses, resting them on the counter with a soft tap. As the pot brewed the coffee, Harry heard the sound of a creak. The wizard looked over his shoulder to his wife, who came sliding next to him, arms wrapping around his middle. "Hey," she mumbled, mind still heavy with sleep. Her round abdomen pressed against his back.
"Hey," he murmured back, soft, smiling tenderly to her.
"How was it?" she asked, her voice strengthening as she awoke to the world slowly but surely.
Harry swallowed. "Fine," he answered, staring at the far-distance horizon. It was already turning grey with the coming dawn.
His wife heard the uncertainty in his voice. She hugged him a little tighter. "You okay?" Harry could hear the concern echoing from her.
After a moment's pause, Harry turned around, wrapping his arms around her waist. "Yes," he murmured. "I'm okay."
She smiled to him warmly, relief shining in her eyes when she recognized the tenderness in his eyes. "I'm glad." She kissed his cheek.
"And guess what?" he smiled to her more confidentially.
"What?" she guessed, holding his hands in hers.
"I thought of a name," he announced, feeling rather clever now.
Ginny gasped, eyes widening in relief, surprise and apprehension. "No! What is it? Come on, tell me! What is it?"
Harry moved his hands down to Ginny's stomach, smiling as he suggested, "Albus Severus Potter."
Ginny paused, the wheels turning in her mind as she tasted the name. At last her eyes brightened. "I love it."
***\
Hey guys, sorry i died on you. i just completely dropped off from this fic (what, a year ago?) and it's all my fault so i sincerely apologize; i feel awful, but hey, i finished the fanfic, and an epilogue will be up tomorrow asap :D
reviews are always welcome whether it be flames, praise, critique or a bit of everything. :D your guys's thoughts mean very much to me :3
and i understand that some of the characters (namely Snape) seem a little OOC, but hey, fanfiction, whatcha gonna do? :p
whether you review or fave or even alert (or nothing at all) thanks for reading! :D