Snape's Vocation by Gillian
Summary: Sequel to 'Mine'. Snape and Harry settle down and learn more about each other. These chapters can be read as individual stories, but I have further chapters written and planned.
Categories: Parental Snape > Biological Father Snape Main Characters: .Snape and Harry (required), Dumbledore, Neville, Remus
Snape Flavour: None
Genres: General
Media Type: None
Tags: Alternate Universe, Baby fic, Child fic
Takes Place: 0 - Pre Hogwarts (before Harry is 11)
Warnings: None
Challenges: None
Series: Mine
Chapters: 20 Completed: Yes Word count: 105771 Read: 146125 Published: 15 Feb 2007 Updated: 15 Feb 2007
Chapter Fourteen by Gillian

There were some things Harry knew. He knew how to fly. He didn't have the vocabulary to put it into words, but somehow he had known how to fly even before he'd been taught. As if something inside of him had already flown, and when it was shown how had awoken and exclaimed: 'Of course!'

Snape sat at the table, listening to the ticking of the hallway clock. It seemed loud in the silence of their rooms, echoing on the old stone floors and rounded walls. Just a few hours ago he'd sat right here, his only worry whether he'd missed out on some important muggle birthday ritual.

Birthday hugs! Trust Harry to become fixated on such an idea. Once his loathsome cousin had been hugged on his birthday. Once dear Dudley had his pictures put up on the wall, or had an A on a report card admired, or some other minor childish achievement he had been showered with approval for. And somewhere on some inner score card Harry had recorded and remembered it.

Harry had a fine memory for slights and grudges, Snape considered. It was a trait he shared with his father.

Not all his traits were inherited from his father.

Either of them.

One long fingered hand stroked idly over the leather cover of the large book in front of him. A stylized tree was embossed upon it and beneath it a name in old fashioned letters. Not all traits were recorded in the traditional manner.

A small magical ward chimed to inform Snape that Dumbledore was climbing the stairs to their tower room. For just a moment the younger wizard wished he could ignore this confrontation. Sometimes he really missed the days when responsibilities were more easily ignored.

"Severus," Dumbledore greeted, stepping lightly into the dimly lit room. "I thought you might still be up and brooding." He sat at the table and cupped the small china pot. "Tea's gone cold. Fancy a fresh cup?"

Snape resumed his seat while the old wizard conjured up a fresh pot.

"Cheer up, Severus," Dumbledore said softly. "It's not as bad as all that, is it?"

"Isn't it?"

"Well, it could have been a lot worse. At least we were among friends." He cast a look over Snape's shoulder into the dim hallway. "Perhaps a small silencing spell? In case Harry awakens?"

"I'll know if Harry wakes up," Snape said shortly. "He's had some disturbed nights, so I charmed his night light to let me know if he's troubled."

"Poor Harry!" Bushy white brows rose comically. "I can see there won't be many secrets for the lad as he grows up!"

"Some secrets should be kept," Snape said bleakly.

Dumbledore contented himself with a shrug and a nod at the book Snape's long fingers were stroking. "A little light reading?"

"My genealogy." Snape traced a potion stained fingertip over the embossed tree. "I can trace my mother's line back 800 years," he said dully. "Every witch or wizard's life laid out." His lips twisted. "The noble and distinguished Snape family lineage is a little more difficult, illustrious and renowned as it is."

"But I gather you would have heard if there'd been a parselmouth amongst them?"

Snape suppressed a wince. He hadn't even been allowing himself to frame the word in his head. "One assumes it would have been known," he replied stiffly. "However one could also understand the suppression of such news."

"Alas yes," Dumbledore agreed. "Our world can be harsh for those who don't fit neatly into it." He sat back in his chair, stroking his long white beard thoughtfully. "I've often thought it a much maligned gift, parseltongue. I mean, to speak to another creature in his own language is surely a wonderful ability! One that should be celebrated."

"Perhaps if it was dear little pussy cats or puppy dogs one was speaking to," Snape said snidely. "But the snake has long enjoyed its status as a symbol of darkness. As have those of us connected with it..." Restlessly he stood and wandered to the window, leaning over the wide stone ledge and peering out at the moonlit night. "He kept snakes," he said lowly. "His eyes and ears he called them. His spies."

"Yes." The old wizard's tone was sober. "You understand of course that Harry probably wasn't born with this ability."

The night was warm but the old stone walls seem to carry their own chill within them and Snape shivered a little.

"I've done a some research on curse scars, over the years," Dumbledore continued. "Little has been written on the subject. But there is some speculation that it is not only the receiver of such scars who is marked. The one giving it loses something... Gives something, albeit unwillingly."

Snape found his voice. "And what else did he give?" he managed. "This dormant... gift, as you call it. What else lies dormant within Harry? What else might awaken?"

There, he'd said it. Voiced the thought seething in his brain these last sleepless hours. Voiced the thought that must occur to everyone who knew the truth of this matter.

"It's a valid question," Dumbledore allowed. Snape shot him a look of loathing, sometimes he hated the old fool his balanced fairness. It was support he wanted now, not lively debate.

"Do you have some kind of answer?" Snape gritted out from between clenched teeth.

"Honestly, dear Severus! Do you need one?"

Snape's head shot around at the chiding tone, his hands clenching into fists.

"Calm down, boy and think," Dumbledore said, voice serious now. "No one in the world knows our Harry the way you do! If you haven't the sense to look inside yourself for what's obvious, then look inside your son. Is there any darkness there?"

Snape blinked at the hard tone.

"Well?" Dumbledore challenged. "Is there? One drop of darkness, one iota? One smidgeon?"

Blindly Snape turned back to the darkened window, finding his own dim reflection in the mullioned pane. He closed his eyes against the sight, turning the question inside himself, his heart easily conjuring memories of the small boy who had invaded and occupied his entire life.

"Are you my father?"

"You won't go anywhere while I'm asleep, will you?"

"I have bits of all of you in me, don't I, daddy?"

"Can we do some more potions some time? It was the best fun we've had together, wasn't it?"

"Now you're not alone any more, are you, daddy?"

"No," Snape admitted softly. He opened his eyes and sought his own gaze again, somehow clearer now against the darkness outside. "No, there's no darkness in Harry."

"Of course there isn't," Dumbledore said comfortably from his chair and Snape blinked and shuttered his face again before turning to the old wizard. He'd half forgotten he was there.

"But that doesn't mean there isn't something more there, something else given him that night," Dumbledore warned. "What we must remember, dear Severus, is that power is neither good nor evil. It simply is. What we do with it however..."

888

There were some things Harry knew. He knew how to talk to snakes. No one had shown him how, he just spoke and they listened. He was too young to understand the wonder of it, or to wonder about it. He thought it was cool.

Harry propped his elbows up on the stone window ledge and gazed miserably out at the dull morning.

"Why does it have to rain on my swimming lesson day?"

"At least it was fine on your birthday, Harry," Snape said patiently, sorting through his lesson plans for the upcoming term.

"Can't we swim anyway?" Harry said pleadingly. "If I wear my togs down to the lake? We'll get wet anyway, right?"

"Don't wheedle, Harry," Snape corrected automatically. "And it's not a matter of getting wet. The lake will be too rough to swim in today."

"Will Mr Lupin come anyway?"

Snape laid his paperwork down and shot Harry a quick look. It had never occurred to him until the last few minutes that Lupin wouldn't come, even if the swimming lesson was out of the question. But now he had to consider what he would do if the tutor didn't show up. Surely finding out about Harry's ability couldn't have affected Lupin's opinion of him?

Memories played in Snape's mind and he found himself less sure. Hadn't he always known the Gryffindor a craven coward?

"Remember Mr Lupin is taking his own holiday soon," he contented himself with reminding his son.

"To the seaside," Harry recalled. With a last longing look at the grey day Harry sighed and trotted over to lean on his father's knee. "I've never been to the seaside, daddy. Have you?"

"Long ago." Snape automatically straightened Harry's collar and tsked at the dusty cobwebs on his shoulders. Harry managed to find nooks and crannies to explore that even house elves didn't clean. "My mother had a house in Cornwall that you might like. Perhaps we'll visit one day."

The distraction worked and Harry was convinced to fetch an atlas so his father could point the place out on a map.

"It is near the sea," Harry exclaimed as Snape pointed to a tiny smudge of a village on the coast.

"It's almost a part of the sea," Snape recalled. "There's a passage in the stone wall that leads down to a cave under the house. The waves lap right up onto the dark rocky shore of the cave and when the tide is out a small boat can sneak out to sea."

Thrilled, Harry's eyes widened behind his glasses and he gazed back down at the village. "Can we really go there one day?"

"I've a pair old great aunts who live there now," Snape said carelessly. "Perhaps they wouldn't mind us landing ourselves on them towards the end of the holidays. Shall I write?"

"Oooh, yes!" Harry exclaimed. "The seaside! The seaside! I'll get your letter box, daddy!"

Satisfied that Harry was sufficiently distracted Snape let the boy fetch his little wooden desk and settled down to write the request. But inside he was seething.

Lupin still had not come.

888

Neville's gift to Harry for his birthday had been a colouring book of extraordinary size. Within it were pictures of dragons and pirate ships and Quidditch matches that would appeal to any child, but especially one of Harry's temperament. Unfortunately the cover was graced with a brightly coloured portrait of a parrot that was designed to give advise to the budding artist.

"Blue would look best!" The parrot squawked. "Bacaw!"

"Anyone can colour the sky blue," Harry said loftily, selecting a purple crayon.

"But the sky is blue!" the parrot said pedantically. "Bacaw."

"But I like purple." Firmly pushing the cover back down Harry set to work on the sky while flat against the table the painted bird protested noisily.

Snape left Harry arguing with his colouring book while Pickle bustled about the place tidying the endless plethora of damp tracks and sticky finger prints. It was amazing really how fond the house elves were of the boy considering the amount of mess they had to clean up after him.

Reflecting that this was the last place he wanted to be going Snape stomped irritably down the stairs and made his way to the suite of rooms he had discovered belonged to the tutor. The door opened to his sharp rap.

"I don't like you," he said coldly when Lupin opened the door.

Lupin blinked. "Um, er. What?"

"I said I don't like you," Snape repeated coldly. "I have never liked you. But I was willing to give you a chance, despite my better judgement."

"Now wait a minute," Lupin said, recovering himself a little. "Give me a chance? You would have seen me out on my ear, it's Dumbledore who gave me a chance! And I've proved myself-"

"Oh, you've proved yourself!" Snape said holy. "Proved you're just as capable of blind prejudice as the next wizard!"

"Prejudice!" Lupin shouted back. "Hark at the kettle calling the pot black! Prejudice he says? When you set your mind against me the moment you found out what I was-"

"That being the moment you tried to kill me, you mean?"

"I never-"

"Oh, yes!" Snape over rode Lupin's instant denial. "That was all your friend Potter's idea, wasn't it?"

"You have no idea what you're talking about!" Lupin burst out, poking his finger into Snape's shoulder. "You have never known what you're talking about! He saved your bloody life, you arrogant fool!"

Snape swept the intrusive finger away from him and had his hand on his wand before he even knew it.

"Touch me again, werewolf," he hissed. "And you will draw back a stump."

Lupin froze, his amber eyes fixed on the wand. "Always quick with a curse, Severus," he said more quietly, flicking his glance back to Snape's face. "Before you hex me to oblivion suppose you tell me what I've done to deserve this dose of vitriol?"

Snape sneered, wishing he could curse Lupin to oblivion. Wishing for a moment he had them all before him now, all those shining Gryffindor hypocrites, so quick to judge and slow to forget.

"Harry," he ground out. "Is too young to understand that some people judge you by what you are rather than what you do. He's too young to understand that someone he... he cares for... could turn against him for something he can't help."

Lupin's threatened look faded to shock and then incredulity. "You think I... Because Harry's a...?" He blinked and shook his head, fair greying hair rustling. "You bloody Slytherin fool."

Snape's grip on his wand tightened. "You're denying it?"

"Yes I'm bloody denying it!" Lupin shouted. "As if I would judge anyone like that! I who have suffered such judgments all his life!"

Unwilling and indeed unable for the moment to give up his rage Snape lowered his wand a little.

"Severus," Lupin said in exasperation. "I love Harry. I couldn't love him more if he was my own. I don't care if he's a parselmouth or a werewolf or a bloody Snape for that matter! I couldn't stop loving him or think any the less of him!"

"Then why didn't you come today?" Snape demanded, wand hand dropping to his side.

Lupin swore under his breath and looked back over his shoulder into his room. Behind him Snape could see a battered suitcase on a table, heaped high with clothes and various other items.

"I forgot the time," Lupin said in exasperation. "I must admit since yesterday my head's been all over the place and what with my packing and my distraction..." He shrugged ruefully. "I just forgot the time."

Snape wanted to call him a liar and curse him anyway but the fool was just standing there with his hands outspread and an apologetic expression on his face.

"Look, why don't you come in and have a cup of tea?"

Snape stepped back, slipping his wand back into his pocket.

"I've left Harry with a house elf," he said shortly. Normally he'd answer such an invitation with the sarcasm it deserved but he was feeling unaccountably... something. Guilty was too strong a word, sorry too weak.

"You can't blame me for jumping to the obvious conclusion," he said, wishing that had come out firmer.

"Can if I want." Lupin leaned against the door jamb and sighed wearily. "Why do you have to make everything so hard?"

"I told you," Snape muttered. "I don't like you."

"So you weren't at all angry at me on your own behalf?" Lupin probed. "Not the least bit disappointed in me except for Harry's sake?"

"Actually I was just surprised you hadn't shown your true colours before now."

Lupin just stared at him, one brow raising. "So. An apology is out of the question then?"

"I have to get back to Harry," Snape returned, letting his rudeness speak for him.

"Severus?" Lupin called and Snape paused and looked over his shoulder. "You asked me once what my life might have been like, if I'd been sorted into a different house. I almost asked you the same question right back."

Now Snape's brow rose. He'd never considered such a question. He'd never considered not being a Slytherin.

"I think what you were really asking is why I was friends with them. Because even I know I never really fitted in. Didn't make a very good Marauder."

Curious despite himself Snape turned and surveyed the young man he'd known for more than half his life, and despised almost as long.

"It's because when they found out my secret they didn't judge me, or abandon me. They... cared for me. I spite of what I was." Lupin shrugged again, his amber eyes dark with old memories. "I know what that's worth. And that's how I feel about Harry."

Snape made his way back to his tower, thoughts deep. Perhaps he'd felt a little guilty. Maybe even a little sorry.

Of course, he hadn't said so.

888

There were some things Harry knew. He knew his father loved him. No one had had to teach him that, and it wasn't something he'd always known. He'd figured it out all by himself. For someone who couldn't ever remember anyone loving him in his life, it was quite an achievement. Long before his dad had said the words aloud Harry had known. He hadn't really needed the words by then, but he'd thought they were nice to hear.

Harry finished the picture and surveyed it with satisfaction. He didn't care what the colouring book said, purple sky and red bushes looked pretty good to him. Who said all bushes were green anyway?

"I suppose it's not too bad," the parrot admitted grudgingly as Harry closed the book carefully. "Bacaw."

"You don't have any pictures of snakes in your book," Harry said curiously.

"Snakes!" The parrot's crest rose and fell dramatically. "Who wants to colour in snakes? Dreadful creatures. Bacaw."

Harry rolled his eyes and carried the book back to the shelf, pushing it firmly in amongst the other books. He ignored the annoying bird's protesting squawk. Sometimes pictures that talked to you could be fun. But sometimes they were just a pain.

His dad pushed open the door and Harry rushed over to him.

"Well? Did you see him?"

His dad just stared for a moment. "See who?"

"Mr Lupin," Harry said impatiently. "What did he say? Why didn't he come?"

"He, er, he forgot the time," his dad said shortly. "How did you know that's where I went?'

Harry shrugged. "Where else would you go? You said you wouldn't be long so I knew you weren't brewing potions."

"You know too much sometimes."

Harry laughed, knowing when his dad was being serious and when he wasn't.

"So is he coming to see me before he goes?"

"He didn't say." His dad said as he headed for his room. Then in the doorway he paused. "But I'm sure he will."

And Harry believed him. Because he knew his dad wouldn't tell him something that wasn't true.

He just knew it.

The End.


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