Present

“I know this is going to sound really lame, but those last words got into my head.  Nobody when I was growing up called me Harry.  I mean my teachers at primary school did, but they were really the only ones who did.  To the Dursleys I was always ‘boy’, ‘freak’, or ‘him’.  If they ordered me to do something, which happened a lot, it was ‘you do this’.  When the other kids at school if they talked to me or about me it was as ‘Potter’.”

“When I got to Hogwarts most of the people started calling me Harry, but there were only a few adults who did, like Hagrid and Professor Dumbledore.  It was weird to hear my name from Dad’s lips, especially when it wasn’t traced with any sort of malice or contempt. ”

“I know it was lame to react that way, but it was the first time that I had proof Dad was moving past seeing me just as the spawn of James Potter.  He was not only admitting to being my father, but was in his own way moving toward embracing our relationship.”  “Like I said before, it was lame.  Unless you’ve grown up with nobody caring about you, you are never going to understand just how important something as simple as being called your given name can be.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

February 1996

Harry made his way down the hall headed back towards the Gryffindor Common Room, Professor Snape’s words still ringing in his ears.  Harry shock his head again, there was no way he could have heard the professor correctly.

Professor Snape didn’t call him Harry, none of the professors did.  Well Hagrid, Dumbledore and Remus did, but that was different.  They weren’t his family.  Of course the Dursleys never called him Harry either. It was just so weird to hear Snape call him that.  Did it really mean anything?

Harry only realized he had reached his destination when the Fat Lady cleared her throat.

“What?” Harry said shaking himself out of his doze.

“Password,” the Fat Lady repeated the irritation clear in her voice.

“Oh yeah, sorry,” Harry quickly mumbled the password and made his way inside.

Without really noticing where he was going Harry found himself in a chair by Ron and Hermione.

Hermione was the first to notice Harry’s presence and obvious preoccupation.

Hermione gently tapped Harry on the arm.  

“Is something wrong Harry?”  She asked anxiously.

Harry shook his head, “I’m okay ‘Mione.  I am.” He stressed seeing her skeptical look on his friends face.

“Did something happen during your lesson?”  She asked not believing for a second.

“Yeah…no…sort of,” Harry said hopping up from his seat and pacing agitatedly.

“What did the greasy git do now?” Ron asked throwing down his Transfiguration notes.

“He didn’t do anything, not like you’re thinking.”  Harry grumbled continuing to pace.

“He has to have done something for you to be reacting this way,” Hermione countered.

“He didn’t do anything.  It was something he said.”  Harry clarified stopping long enough to look his friend in the eye.

“What did he say,” Ron demanded.

“It’s nothing,” Harry mumbled as he threw himself back down into his chair.  “I’m just over reacting.  Can we just leave it?”

“Harry, he has to have said something to upset you this much.”  Hermione offered giving Harry’s arm a reassuring squeeze.

“He called me ‘Harry’ okay?”  Harry snarled pulling his arm away.  “I told you I was over reacting.”

“Oh Harry,” Hermione said rather surprised.  “That’s wonderful.  It means you two are making progress.”

“Yeah,” Ron offered noncommittally.  Ron had been less than enthusiastic to learn his best friend was the son of one of the most hated professors in all of Hogwarts all history.

“Yeah I guess,” Harry said throwing his head back in frustration.

There was a soft thwack as his head hit the back of the chair.

“Damn,” he grumbled rubbing the back of his head a moment later.

Ron let out a soft chuckle.

“It’s not funny Ron,” Hermione snapped.

“I wasn’t laughing at him and Snape, I was laughing at him…never mind.” Ron attempted to explain but gave up as Hermione continued to glare daggers.

“It’s fine ‘Mione.  I get it Ron,” said Harry as he rubbed the back of his for a moment longer.  “Come on, I really need to get started on that Transfiguration essay.”  

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Present

“As my lessons continued Dad and I got a bit more comfortable in each other’s company.  It took us a good while.  Dad finding out the truth helped a lot.  I’ve said that already, I think, but it really did change so much.  Anyway, as we got more comfortable with each other we wanted to know more about one another.  We needed to finally put to rest any preconceived notions about one another.”  Harry paused to take a sip of water.  Talking for as long as he had was leaving him parched.

“It started off simply…”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

March 1996

Harry straightened up catching his breath once more.

“You’ve done well tonight.  I believe that’s enough for this evening,” Severus said catching his breath as well.”

Harry nodded, “Alright, I guess I’ll see you in class.”

The teen stuck his wand in the back pocket of his jeans preparing to leave.  “Night,” he began.

“Would you care to join me for a cup of tea?” Severus offered.

“Huh,” Harry blurted out.

“It is still fairly early in the evening.  Curfew is not for several more hours. I was wondering if you would care to join me for a cup of tea before returning to Gryffindor Tower.”  Severus said calmly.

Harry shifted uncomfortably from foot to foot.  “Oh,” he said dumbly.  “I mean yeah, that sounds alright, I guess.”

“Have a seat, it will be but a moment.”  Severus turned back toward the fireplace.  Harry watched as Severus removed a pinch of Floo-Powder from an inlaid wooden box on the mantle.  Severus made sure the boy was blocked from view as he ordered a tea service for two.  A moment later a heavy laden silver tea service appeared on the coffee table in front of Harry.

Severus joined him almost instantly.  “Shall I pour?”

Harry nodded.  He was too stunned at the bizarreness of the situation to say anything.

Severus poured a cup of tea about two-thirds of the way up the cup and stopped, “I’m afraid I don’t know how you take your tea.”

“Oh, black is fine, maybe a little sugar,” Harry replied.

Severus nodded and added one lump of sugar before passing it to Harry.  There was a moment of silence as Severus poured his own tea adding a touch of milk and three sugars.

Harry was surprised by this.  Somehow he couldn’t see his strict dour professor, father, taking his tea so sweet.

A heavy silence fell.  The only thing to be heard was the sound of the two wizards sipping and their tea and the clock ticking on the mantle.  Unable to take the silence a moment longer Harry screwed up his courage and asked, “Do you always take your tea like that sir?”

Severus quirked an eyebrow at the teenager’s question.  “An off line of inquiry, Mr. Potter.  I take my tea that way when the mood strikes me.  More often than not however, I take it black with no sugar.”

“Oh,” Harry said uncertainly.

There was a pause, “How did my mum take her tea?”  Harry asked.

“Why are you so fascinated with tea?” Severus asked mildly setting down his cup and saucer.  

Harry shrugged.  “I don’t know.  It’s in front of us, I guess.”

Severus nodded.  “Your mother always took her tea with milk, lots of it.  In the mornings she was more likely to add sugar, but not always.”  It was than he noticed Harry had not touched the plate of biscuits between them.  “Do help yourself to a biscuit.”

Harry hesitated, but took one with jam and shortbread.  Severus watched him critically.  “I take if you were not entitled to the biscuits at tea with those horrid Muggles.”

Harry nibbled the end of his cookie.  He gave a small shake of his head at his father’s question.

“You are free to help yourself here.  I will not deny you such things,” Severus promised.  “Your mother was a great fan of dunking her biscuits into her tea.”

Harry’s nose wrinkled at the statement.  “Then you get soggy bits floating around in it,” Harry whined.

“I see we are of a similar mind on the matter.  Lily often insisted that only happened because I let them stay in too long.  I will tell you I watched her fish out half a melted biscuit out of her tea more than once.  What a waste of a perfectly good pastry.”  Severus said.

Harry let out a laugh.  It was strange seeing his professor, father this way.  He was so relaxed.  He almost looked like he was going to smile when he said that thing about the melted biscuits.

“Your grandmother was an excellent baker.  Whenever she sent Lily a box of teats she would come and find me and we would find a quiet place on the ground to share them as we talked.  A flash of sadness passed across Severus’s face.

“Did you mum bake too?” Harry asked.

Severus’s face returned to stone almost instantly.  “No.  I don’t wish to discuss my family.”

Harry frowned, “Sorry, sir.”

“Harry, there is no need to apologize.  You have done nothing wrong.”  Severus told Harry seriously.

“Err… okay, still I’m sorry I didn’t mean to bring up bad memories or something.”  Harry gave the older wizard a small smile.

“It is fine.  Is that anything else you would like to know about your mother?” Severus asked irritably.

“Uh yeah,” Harry agreed.  

“Anything specific?”

“Anything,” Harry said.  “Aunt Petunia didn’t really talk about her.  I didn’t even know I had her eyes until I came to Hogwarts.  That’s pretty much all I know about her too.  Everybody talks about my da-James.  Damn it!”  Harry snapped in frustration.

“That kind of language is unacceptable Mr. Potter.  Articulate your frustrations without the further use of profanity please,” Severus scolded.

Harry pushed his bangs back from his forehead momentarily displaying his infamous scar.  “I don’t know what to call you,” the teen explained.

“I see.”  Severus said slowly.  “You are still to address me as ‘sir’ or ‘professor’ in class.  During our Occlumency lessons and here in my quarters you may address me anyway you feel comfortable.”

“But what am I supposed to call you?”  Harry demanded still clearly frustrated.  “I can’t call you ‘Dad’.  James is my ‘dad’, but he isn’t really my ‘dad’.” Harry rambled.

“Take a breath, Potter,” Severus ordered.  “There is more to fatherhood than mere biology.  James Potter cared for you dearly.  He gave his life in order to save you.  This is more than many parents may do for their biological children.  It is definitely more than my own… father would have done for me.” Severus explained.  “Potter had more than earned the title of ‘dad’.  You may call me something else if you prefer.”

Harry nodded weakly.  “I could call you ‘father’” Harry offered.  The word felt heavy and awkward on his tongue.

“You do not seem to approve of such a title.  The way you address me does not have to acknowledge our familial relationship if would make you more comfortable.”  Severus said.

Harry shock his head.  “It’s not that.  Calling you ‘father’, its sounds too much like something Malfoy would do.  I’m not a poncy git.”  Harry explained.

“I see,” Severus said, clearly baffled.  He was surprised that was the boy’s objection to forms of address nothing else.  Perhaps they were making progress.  “Then maybe you would be more comfortable calling me ‘Severus’ at least for the moment.”  The Potions Master suggested.

Harry frowned.  “That’s weird.  You don’t call your parents by their first names.”

“That may be true in most families, but as it had been noted before, this is not a normal family.”  Severus responded.

Harry shook his head once more.  “No thanks.  It’s still too weird.  I’ll figure it out.”  Harry shrugged grabbing another biscuit.  He checked his watch once more.  “I’d better go.  I still have a bunch of homework to finish.  Thanks for the tea, sir.  I’ll see you in class.”

Severus nodded and bid his son good night.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Present

“Things continued like that for a while.  We’d talk about stupid things, such as likes and dislikes, over tea after my Occlumency lessons ended for the night.  Dad would typically ask me a question about something like my favorite subject or something like that.  I’d answer and ask about him or my mum.  We spent a lot of time talking about my mum.  He’d tell me about the past, but if it got too close to having to talk about his family he’d sort of shut down on me.  It was annoying, but we’d just move on after a minute.  There is a lot to learn about a person when you’re just getting to know them.  It’s not hard to avoid talking about families either.  After a while though, it get harder.  The more we talked and the more he saw of my memories the more Dad wanted to know about the Dursleys.  He could see flashes of the memories most of the time, but he didn’t have context.  He wanted that.  So we made a deal.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

March 1996

“Why are you so afraid of dogs?”  Severus asked as he handed Harry a cup of tea prepared just the way Harry liked.

“I’m not scared of dogs.”  Harry argued.

“Really?  You appeared to be rather frightened in that last memory I saw at end of our lesson,” Severus contended.

“It’s not dog.  It’s just Ripper,” Harry explained.

Severus’s expression remained blank.

Harry let out a soft sigh, “Ripper is Aunt Marge’s favorite bulldog.  She breeds them.”

“I was not aware Petunia had an aunt called Marge,” was all Severus said.

“She isn’t related to Aunt Petunia.  She’s Uncle Vernon’s sister. They always insisted I called her aunt though, out of respect or whatever.  She hated me, more than the Dursleys did.”  Harry said bitterly.

“How does this relate to your fear of dogs?”  Severus asked mildly.  The boy’s recollection tended to meander if not reminded to stay on point.

“It’s not dogs,” Harry repeated once more with a defensive huff.  

“It’s just Ripper.  Come on, with a name like that you expect cute and cuddly.  He’s an old foul tempered, evil, beast.  At Dudley’s ninth birthday party I accidently stepped on his tale.  Ripper chased me into the garden and up a tree.  Aunt Marge refused to call him of until midnight.”  Harry explained.

Severus gave a small nod.  “I see.  Your aunt and uncle did not object to such treatment?”

Harry let out a contemptuous snort.  “Like they would.  They laughed about it.  They thought it was funny.  Called me a coward and stuff too.  I’m glad Aunt Marge only visited those few times.”

Severus took a sip of tea.  There was a light in his eyes Harry didn’t like.  He was fairly sure it wasn’t directed at him, but it still made him very uneasy.  It was like he was an expensive potions ingredient that his father was trying to determine the best use of.

“When was the last time you saw Marge?” Severus asked coolly.

“Uh, the night I ran away for Diagon Ally… you know… after I blew her up.”  Harry said nervously.  He didn’t know exactly why he was nervous.  It was too long ago to get in trouble for the whole blowing up his aunt thing.  Maybe he was worried about Marge, but he would have been happy to see what his dad did to her.  Harry avoided eye contact with his father.  Who knew how the wizard would take this bit of information.

“Are you referring to the incident in the summer before your third year?  You chose to go on the run when a mass murder was on the loose and it was believed you were his number one target.”  Severus asked dumbfounded.

“It’s not like the news said he was in our area.  I didn’t know Sirius was a wizard, or that he wanted to kill me, which by the way he didn’t.”  Harry defended.

“You’re making such a strong case for your defense Mr. Potter.” Severus said coolly.

“Yeah,” Harry admitted, “I did see him that night too.”  

“What?” Severus demanded.

“Yeah, I saw Sirius that night, just before I almost got run over by the Knight Bus.  He was in his Animagus form, but it was him.  He scared me half to death.”  Harry explained.

“And yet you say you don’t fear dogs.”  Severus said, amusement creeping into his voice.

“I heard a noise, then there was a dog as big as a bear.  I was justifiably scared.”  Harry said picking another biscuit from the plate.

“Very well,” Severus conceded.

Harry set his cup down.  “Sir,” Harry asked softly.

“Yes, Harry” Severus asked refilling his tea cup.

“How come you always get to ask me about stuff, but you never answer me when I ask you the same?”  That question had been bugging Harry for weeks.  It had taken all of his Gryffindor courage and three tries to get it out.

“You don’t always answer and I do ‘answer your questions and stuff’ as you put it so intelligently.”  Severus countered.  “Your answers are often vague, Mr. Potter.  As for my not answering I am the adult in this situation and determine what is appropriate for you to know.”

“That’s not fair,” Harry whined.

“As you should well know by now, life often isn’t.”  Severus said the edge developing in his voice.

Harry mumbled something Severus didn’t quite catch.

“What was that?”  Severus asked giving the boy the benefit of the doubt.

“Nothing sir,” Harry grumbled. “I don’t see why I have to tell you everything if I don’t get anything in return.”

“What do you propose Mr. Potter?” asked a curious Severus.

Harry shrugged.  “I don’t know.  If you want to know something about the Dursleys you have to be willing to tell me about your mum and dad.  You can’t just blow me off by talking about Mum or family and stuff.”

Severus’s eyes narrowed dangerously.  “Why should I do that?  What’s to stop me from just breaking into your mind and locating what I’m looking for?”

“Your honor.  Plus,” Harry gave his father a cocky grin, “I’m getting pretty good at this Occlumency stuff.  I could hide those memories so far in the dungeons, you’d never find them.”

Severus took a moment to consider this.  “Fine, but you will only take what I give you.  If I refuse to answer one of your questions you are to accept it and move on.  Is this understood?”

Harry nodded, “Yes, sir.”

“You may proceed.”  Severus said giving his hand a dismissive wave.

“Oh, okay…Well, what was your mum like?”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Present

“I can’t really tell you more about that without Dad jinxing me back to the start of time.  All you need to know is I learned about Professor Snape’s family and that was enough for me.