"You may be Albus Dumbledore, but my boy is working hard over there! Out you get!" Mrs Mary said, shooing the old man out. Mrs Mary was Tom's wife, and while she wasn't here but once a week, she had taken a quick liking to Harry. Though he hated the word 'boy', the way Mrs Mary said it made his cheeks flush and his heart swell with joy. The old couple had a grandson who was only seventeen when he passed. He was a well-trained duelist, and Voldemort's men had killed him off. Yet another reason for Harry to kill the old snake face.
"Mary, you must understand-" he heard Dumbledore plead, but Mary's motherly voice drowned him out. She almost reminded him of Mrs. Weasley, but Mrs. Weasley would never stand up to Dumbledore as Mrs. Mary had. Returning to his cooking, Hardy tried to push the negatives from his mind. He still had so much to discover about himself and he couldn't do that with Dumbledore near. The man had cared for him, that much was true, but he wouldn't understand Harry's newfound interests, especially not in Enchantments. Harry's mind thought about the past few days. It had taken a while for Harry to learn what was truly right for him, and he didn't even think enchantments would be his "area of expertise" so to say, but it was. He was damn good at it, to boot.
"Harry, darling, you alright?" He heard Mr Tom ask. Mrs Mary was still staring down the floo that Dumbledore had left.
"Yeah, I promise, just a little shaken up, sir," Harry said. Tom nodded and patted Harry on the head. Much to his dismay, Harry still leaned into it, even after being exposed to the affection for a much longer time now. Still, Harry loved his pseudo-grandparents. He felt a deeper connection with them than he had ever had with the Dursleys. In less than 3 months! It wasn't shocking, per se. He expected it. Still, he could say he loved the Fletchers with his whole heart. They were helpful, considerate, and while Mr Tom was a bit of a stickler for rules and persona's, Mrs. Mary was open-minded and in a way, familiar. She almost reminded him of a mix of Hermione and Neville.
Thinking of his friends, Harry realised he hadn't written to them in a few months. They hadn't written to him either. Still, he was filled with a little guilt. He could have written Neville more. Actually…
"Mrs. Mary?" Harry asked. The woman had come in a little while ago, while he was still stuck in his head. "I'm gonna go write my friend a letter if that's alright?" Mary smiled.
"Of course dear! Just remember to be careful. That old man could still be out there." Harry nodded but grimaced as he slid the sliced tomatoes into a jar. Putting the jar into a magically-chilled box, Harry contemplated the wizarding standards. Sure, through his readings, he had come to realise this 'light and dark' magic idea was a crock of shit, but he did like the idea of rituals. They seemed fun. He would have had a blast finding a deity to worship, to claim as his own. Alas, it was considered 'dark' magic. A few of the points were good, mostly the fact that the Unforgivables are horrible and are in no way useful. At least not now, in the 1990s. The Dark used to argue that the killing curse could be used to give sick patients an easy death, but that was before the invention of the Gendal Potion. Harry remembers reading about that potion sometime in third year. Something about slowly stopping the heart, with enough time to get affairs in order or say goodbye to loved ones, then eventually it puts you to sleep and you pass away. Quick and easy.
Rushing up to his room with a piece of parchment (and almost slipping on his way up), Harry sat down to write to his friend Neville. He and Neville weren't close by any means, but they had a mutual understanding. They were both orphans, both from hard childhoods, and both happy enough to stay out of the limelight. They had gotten close this past year because of Ron and Hermione's actions (which he still wasn't over, if that matters) but once the Golden Trio had gotten back in shape, Harry and Neville sort of drifted apart. Harry didn't want to drift apart from the sweet boy. Harry liked their talks, even if it was solely about one thing. Neville could go on and on about plants, and Harry loved to listen to it. Even though sometimes he had no clue what the round boy was saying, Harry listened vehemently, so much so his Herbology grade improved.
Neville did the same with Harry, listening about Defense against the Dark Arts. Neville was dreadful at that class, especially with Mad-eye Moody as his professor, but hanging out with Harry had brought Neville's grade up, too. Harry should know. He was wrapped in the biggest one-person hug of his life when Neville told him. Thanks to their combined knowledge, Harry passed Herbology with a EE, an exceeded expectations, as did Neville with Defense. Harry loved their impromptu friendship and was sad when they fizzled into nothing.
'Not this year,' Harry thought to himself. 'Me and Neville will be the best of friends.' So, Harry got started on his letter.
Dear Neville,
I hope this letter finds you well! I've missed you! I know school starts in two weeks, but I was wondering if you were free to meet up before the semester starts? Anywhere you wanna go, just give me the address and I'll be there.
Your friend,
Harry
Satisfied with his final draft, Harry began to tie the letter around Hedwig's ankle, when he decided to look out of the window. A daft-looking barn owl sat staring at him, and Harry sighed. He let the poor bird in, but the bird wouldn't budge, sticking out its leg with a letter tied to it. With a quick wave of his wand, he cancelled any common spells that might have been on the letter. Not sensing any more harmful ones, he opened it. Reading it, he felt his nose flare in annoyance. Guess he was writing two letters after all. Sorry, Hedwig.
Peels of laughter echoed from behind Dumbledore, and the old man honestly couldn't take it anymore. Even Severus seemed amused, though the man was quick to zap the smile right off his face.
"That kid is James Potter's son!" Sirius Black Wheezed out. While Sirius was a common joy for his old heart, this honestly wasn't the correct time for it.
"Sirius! You're an adult! Act like it!" Molly Weasley berated. Still, Sirius shone on, picking the letter up from off the table and reading it for the rest of the order members to hear.
"'Dear Dumbledore," Sirius read. "'I hope this letter finds you amid your blissful state of ignorance and utter disregard for other people's need for solitude. How delightful it is to have the opportunity to address my grievances in writing, as it seems verbal communication has failed to penetrate the thick wall of your obliviousness. I must express my deepest gratitude for the consistent and unwavering commitment you have displayed in ensuring that I never have more than a moment of peace or tranquillity. Your impeccable timing and relentless intrusion into my personal space have truly left an indelible mark on my life. It is truly inspiring to witness such dedication in disturbing the delicate balance of my sanity.'" Sirius howled with laughter again, trying to catch his breath while also trying to avoid Molly's grabbing hands.
"'I must admit, it is truly awe-inspiring how you manage to materialise out of thin air just when I am on the verge of enjoying a moment of solitude. Your ability to detect the precise second I begin to unwind and bask in the silence is nothing short of extraordinary. It's almost as if you have developed a sixth sense for detecting my brief moments of respite, and you swoop in like an obnoxious superhero to save me from the misery of stillness. While I appreciate the utter lack of sentiment in your actions, please cease them at once. If you would like to talk as adults, I will see you September 1st, and not a moment before. Signed, The Boy Who Fucking Lived.'" Sirius laughed more, and as Dumbledore surveyed the room, he noticed Severus had let a smirk rest on his face. Good, the boy could use some happiness, even if it was for Dumbledore's own sake.
"Sirius, how can you condone such actions? Being so aggressive with the Headmaster, and that crass language too! You aren't raising him correctly, he'll turn out like-like- I don't know! Just, not who he could be Sirius! Think of his future!" Black was about to protest, but Severus stood up.
"While I loathe having any semblance of agreeing with Black on my tongue, he is not at fault here. Potter," He spat. Dumbledore held in a sigh. "Was raised in a muggle household with magic-hating muggles. I know Petunia Evans, now Dursley. She is not to be trifled with. I can, somehow, understand why he would want out of that household. Now," Severus turned to Albus. "Is that all this meeting is for? I have private news to relay to you, Headmaster." Albus was going to retort, but there was something in Severus' eyes that had Albus pausing. He hadn't seen that look on the boy's face since Lily's death...
"Ah, I do hope it is important, Severus!" The headmaster winked. "Not about a, what was the word, trifling, yes! Not about a trifling love interest of yours?" Snape seethed but still had that exhorting look in his eye. "Yes, my boy, I do suppose we're done here. May you all have a great rest of the summer." He heard a few grumbles of 'we have full-time jobs' and 'you're lucky you're a teacher.' from some of the younger members of the Order of The Phoenix, but he simply chuckled and watched them leave. Soon, it was just the two of them in there. Albus leaned forwards, half-moon glasses resting on his nose. Severus looked around, slowly, as if he was looking for something Albus' own eyes couldn't see, before waving his wand. Albus knew the feel of a silencing barrier when he felt one.
"My, my, Severus. Borderline dark magic. This must be important then." Severus' eyes narrowed but said nothing as he pulled a piece of parchment out of his flowy black robes. Unfolding it, Albus scanned slowly, eyes widening ever so slightly.
"Severus, how did you-" Albus took a breath to steady himself. If he was just a bit older this news may have given him a heart attack. Alas, he wasn't that old yet.
"It doesn't matter how I acquired them, all that matters is that wretched boy is my child. And I'm damn sure he looks just like Lily, too." Albus stared, dumbfounded.
"Listen-" Severus held his hand up, effectively cutting off the old man's response.
"I know you knew Lily had a child with someone else, I know it was you who did the changing spell, but something must be done. I have no clue what Potter knows, or if he even knows I'm his- his- sperm donor yet, but that brat will find out. And when he does I do NOT wish to be a part of it!" Magic swirled around them, angry, demanding, and Severus watched as Albus aged about fifty years in fifty seconds.
"I need to know what happened. I have a plan, per se, but it requires your cooperation with-"
Harry sat at an Ice Cream shop in Berlin, Germany waiting for Neville. The shop, Cuore di Vetro, was pleasantly cool, but it did nothing to calm Harry's nerves. What if Neville didn't show? What if he made a fool of himself in front of Neville's grandmother? Harry had brushed up on basic etiquette with Blake the day before, but what if he forgot it? Harry heard the floo go off, and his head snapped around. There stood neville, Flushed form Floo Travel and brushing soot off his china blue robes. Or maybe they were baby blue? Harry didn't know the difference, only what he had learned through his aunt.
"Harry!" Neville said, jogging over to him. Soon, Harry was wrapped in a big hug. "Merlin, I'm so glad you invited me! I've missed our chats like crazy." Guilt hit Harry like a truck. The boy was about to start talking again when an older woman stepped up to them. Neville paused, and turned to look at the woman. 'His grandmother,' Harry realised.
"Grandma, this is my friend, Harry Potter. Harry, this is my grandmother, Augusta Longbottom." The boy wrung his hands nervously, and Harry realised the woman was eyeing him. Not with disdain, but not with curiosity either.
"Matron Longbottom," Harry led, hand already out to shake her hand. "It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance. I have heard good things about you." The woman looked amused.
"Oh, have you now? Like what, pray tell?" Harry swallowed, but stood his ground.
"Oh, mostly about how you are the only person alive able to stand up to Albus Dumbledore." Matron Longbottom's eyes' narrowed. "My lady, it is a compliment, I promise. I too have stood up to him, though I just wish I could have done mine in person." Longbottom nodded, before turning to her grandson.
"I will be shopping for your supplies while we are here. I will be back within two hours to retrieve you. Have fun." She turned to Harry. "Heir Potter, please do try and keep my grandson out of trouble. It was a pleasure." The aged woman turned and left the floo-area, turning heads as she went.
"Even at 60, she turns heads wherever she goes. S-so, let's go get ice cream, yeah?" Harry nodded and followed after the boy. He seemed to know his way around here. Once they got their frozen delicacy of choice (because that's the only proper word to describe such amazing art in front of Harry) the pair sat down at some private table. Neville had gotten a delicious looking strawberry gelato, topped with curled chocolate strips, some white chocolate sauce drizzled over it all, and frozen drops of lemon juice. Harry himself had a simple orange sherbert, topped with a real orange slice and thin cuts of raspberry, as well as raspberry sauce to bring it all together. After his first bite, Harry was hooked. He would have liked to say the two of them ate with decorum and grace, but the two teenage boys wolfed down the icecream like a dying man in need of water. Once they both had about a quarter of ice cream left, they started chatting.
"So, Neville, tell me about your summer? And I mean everything. There's only about a week left until Hogwarts anyways, so I want all of the juicy details." He waggled his eyebrows making Neville laugh. Neville was much more confident when it was just the two of them, and Harry enjoyed it so very much.
"Well, the start of my summer wasn't the best. I misfired on my wand- er, my dads wand, and it shattered, completely. Gran was pretty upset, but I was honestly a bit happy about it. A chance at my own wand, yeah? Which reminds me, I got my own wand!" He pulled out the wand, and a beautiful, dark ebony laid in his hand, the wood carved elegantly with swirls and vines. Even the little leaves had an extreme amount of detail. "Olivander said that this was a true herbalist wand, and it meant I was good with plants and stuff." The boy got a little embarrassed, but at Harry's encouraging look, continued on about his wand.
"It may look stunning on the outside, but if only you could see what it can do! You'll have to come to the manor soon, Harry! Or, I guess I could show you it at Hogwarts, but they might have different plants then us..." Neville began to talk inwards, and Harry smiled.
"That's great, Nev, but what does it do?" Neville blushed.
"Well, like Olivander said, I'm more attuned with nature now because of the wand, but that's not just it! It's like, I don't know if this makes sense, but my wand just does what I think! If a plant needs sunlight, but I can't figure out how to move it without upsetting the roots, my wand will just woosh and the plant will turn. It's oh Harry, it's bloody amazing!" The more Neville gushed, the more Harry smiled, and the more Harry thought. Did Neville, perhaps, have a magic specialisation like him?
"Uh oh, you've got your thinking face on. Wazzit?" Neville asked. Harry shrugged.
"Well, this summer I did a lot of learning. Mostly our upcoming classes and a lot of potion review, but I also started reading about magic specialisation. Er, I guess your magical inheritance. And not like potions or charms-" Neville cut him off with a slight laugh.
"Yes, Harry I know what those are. I may not act it all the time but I am a pureblood. Anyways, We're not sure if I will have a specialisation. I'm barely a wizard as is." Harry was hurting for his friend, but he needed the boy to snap out of it.
"Neville Longbottom! You were just gushing about how with your damn mind you made devil's snare wrap around a parasite plant and smother it out. Of course you're a wizard! The best one I have ever seen. One day you'll be greater than Dumbledore, I can feel it." Neville teared up a bit, eyes glancing between Harry and his empty ice cream bowl, but eventually nodded. With a steady breath, Neville looked back up at Harry, fully meeting his eyes this time.
"So, why do you bring it up?" Neville asked.
"Well, I figured out my magical inheritance pretty quickly, and with all you've described to me, it had me thinking! Maybe you're an Evoker! Wouldn't that be cool? Two friends with enchantment specialties?" Harry's eyes sparkled, but Neville seemed to be stumped.
"Really? Me? It's such an unknown branch I figured you would have that specialty." Harry waved his hand around.
"Nah, I'm an illusionist myself, which is actually really fun. You, though? An Evoker through and through. You fit perfectly with the description they have."
"Well, if you say so, but still!" Neville whined. "If I really am an Evoker, I need to figure out how to use my magic. And if I can use all elements or just a specialised one. Do you know?" He asked.
"Nah," Harry replied, using his spoon to get the last drop of melted sherbert out of his bowl. "But, we'll be at Hogwarts soon, which means plenty of time to research."
"Harry, it's our owl years."
"Oh bugger, you're right." They laughed, and the two boys kep catching up about their summers. On Harry's part, he told his friend all about the lack of letters from everyone, and how his school work was going. Neville informed him that, he had stilled received letters from the two wayward buddies of Harry's, and that he was sorry that Harry hadn't gotten any letters yet.
"Meh. it'll be alright. I'm with you right now, anyways. You're a really good friend, Neville.' The blond boy flushed, but smiled nonetheless as the two kept talking about their summer. Apparently, a niffler had gotten into the greenhouse at Nevilews mansion, and instead of ripping up the flowerbeds and dosing down in sparkly Kosite (a plant which, according to Neville, was so sparkly even he didn't mess with it in fear of the sparkly poison affecting him) as nifflers are known to do, he had instead fell asleep in a bed of carnations. When Neville had come in that morning, it was like the plants had moved to make room for the little guy. So, Neville kept him and named him Carny, a name for the flowers he fell asleep in. Plus, he could call the niffler Barmy Carny, and something in that name made the two boys laugh like school girls.
Once conversation had died down slightly, and the two boys were onto their second serving of ice cream (they had decided to try each other this time, and Neville didn't have the heart to tell Harry he had already tried every flavour here) Harry had decided to breach a rather sensitive topic.
"Hey, Nev, how common is it for purebloods to be, well, to be," His neck flushed in embarrassment. "To be infertile?" Neville flushed too, and the pair just stared at each other before laughing away the awkwardness.
"Well, to be honest, it's rather common. My mum was left with only a few eggs when she got pregnant with me, so Gran says. That's why the family wasn't that surprised when they thought I would be a squib. It happens. Why do you ask?
"Well, according to Gringotts, James Potter isn't my father. I have no clue who is, but I received an owl saying that my, well my sperm donner was notified of my existence. Or, rather, realised I existed."
"Wow, mate. I'm sorry to hear that. That's a bummer. This might seem like a twat thing to say, but are you the Potter Heir?" Harry nodded
"Yeah, it was an official, goblin-made, blood adoption. But, apparently the person that bonded me to James, Imean my dad, has to recast the spell. I don't really understand the time limit, but it's different for everyone apparently. My magic was strong enough to help hold up the spell but now, well. Yeah." Neville nodded, seemingly satisfied with his answer.
"I guess that explains your pale skin," Neville said. "I had just thought you had been inside all summer. Plus, your hair is a little longer than normal. You look a bit more muscular too.." Neville murmured the last part, but Harry just laughed.
The rest of their time together was wonderful, even in light of Harry's new predicament. Soon, far too soon for Harry's liking, Matron Longbottom came to retrieve Neville.
"Grandmother, can Harry come back to Longbottom Manor with us until school?" His grandmother seemed a bit shocked as she glanced at Harry.
"Yes, if Heir Potter wishes it." Harry flushed.
"I would love too, but I don't wanna impose. I still need to stop by Gringotts, and get my stuff." Neville's grandmother waved her hand carelessly.
"It's fine, young man. That will give our house elves enough time to get a room ready for you. Where would we be flooing to?"
"Do you know if we can floo straight to Gringotts?" The matron nodded, and led the two boys to the floo room. Neville was the first one to go through, and Harry followed soon after, with a lot less grace then Neville had. Said prat just laughed at Harry when he all but rolled into Gringotts. Matron Longbottom came in next, her silver hair reflecting in the green flames. The Longbottoms offered to stay behind, so Harry went up to the teller himself. Even though he had done this a few times now, their beady eyes still stared through him.
"Hello, sir. Uh, can I speak to Grungewhipper? If he's here that is." The teller sneered but hopped down the stool.
"Follow me." The goblin rasped out. Harry was lead to a beautiful, ornate room, stacked high with gems and books alike. Harry stared, marveled by the pretty colours. Everything just seemed to sparkle.
"Heir Potter," He heard a few minutes later. "I apologise about the wait, a few younglings needed training." Harry waved his hand dismissivly.
"No, it's alright. I was just here for my results. About who my sperm donner is." He trailed off, in an akward satte of wanting to talk, and wanting to get it over with. Grungewhipper, thank the Gods, just nodded. He pulled out a file-type box, and began shifting through the papers in it. He pulled out a paper and passed it face down to Harry. Taking a gulp of air, Harry reminded himself that, no matter what, James Potter was still his dad. James had wanted him as his son, and that means more then anything else could.
"Bloody fucking hell."
Longbottom Manor was beautiful, truly, and Harry loved the gardens there. He and Neville spent most of their days with their hands in the dirt. Harry learned quickly that magic infused dirt got everywhere. And I mean everywhere- no matter how much he showered, it was still in his bed, his hair, his clothes. It was like glitter. Instead of craft herpes it was earth herpes.
However, both young boys knew that Harry was only feigning ignorance to what they both knew.
Neville was there, waiting patiently for Harry to finish up the goblin meeting. Seeing his dear friend stumble out of the doors, paler than was the new normal, and sweating profusely, Neville knew the news had been difficult to bear.
"Harry," Neville tentatively reached out. "You alright?"
"Snape," Harry gasped out, voice sounding dry even though the two boys had talked no less than twenty minutes ago. "Snape's my bloody sperm donor."
The boys stood there, Harry's fingernails digging into Neville's shoulders slightly (not that he minded of course) and with Neville's hands securely wrapped around his friends wrists. They didn't speak, didn't dare utter a word. The news was as revolting as it was shocking. Most of all, that meant Snape knew. Their grudge holding, insecure, asshole of a professor knew he was Harry Potter's biological father.
"Let's go home, Harry." The two boys were whisked away to Longbottom Manor.
None of them spoke of it. Not Augusta, not Neville, and certainly not Harry. He didn't think he could cope if he spoke it aloud once more. Saying it, even out loud, would make it even more true, and Harry didn't want to believe it. So, the two boys spent their afternoons outside. Studying, working, or even just wandering around, Harry and Neville didn't care. Harry hadn't received any news from his two wayward friends or Dumbledore either, so life was peaceful. Soon, the day to depart Hogwarts was upon them.
Augusta had gotten used to having lively boys in her house, and was just a tiny bit sad they wouldn't be back until the Yule vacation. After having Harry in her house for almost two weeks, she saw how close her grandson was getting to the Potter Heir, and had told him yesterday that he was welcome back anytime. They had already made plans for Christmas (or Yule as the matron was trying to get Harry to call it) break, and she had offered her home up for the next summer. The boy, eyes wide and shining, had hugged her and thanked her more than anyone else ever had. It warmed her heart.
"Now you listen here, Heir Potter. Stay by my Neville's side. He's changed because of you, more confident in himself and putting effort into his schoolwork now. I don't know how you did it, but don't you dare change up on him." Harry smiled, hugged the woman once more, and followed after Neville as he boarded the train. Per Harry's request, they were there a little earlier than he normally was, and the two boys were able to find a compartment just for them.
"Here, Harry." Neville said, waving his wand. Harry wouldn't say he felt the magic that the boy casted, but he certainly felt the compartment feel different. He raised a questioning eyebrow, not really knowing what to ask.
"A Notice-Me-Not charm. I figured you wouldn't want to deal with Ron and Hermione. Unless you do, I can take it down." He hurried to assure.
"It's perfectly fine," Harry said after he finished laughing. "I really don't want to deal with them either."
And so, the rest of the ride was peaceful.