A Secret Gift by little-sun
Summary: A short bittersweet story about an unexpected gift that has somehow overgrown into a multichaptered fic. AU.
Categories: Parental Snape Main Characters: .Snape and Harry (required)
Snape Flavour: None
Genres: General
Media Type: None
Tags: None
Takes Place: 6th summer
Warnings: Profanity
Challenges: None
Series: None
Chapters: 9 Completed: Yes Word count: 15649 Read: 43070 Published: 12 Jul 2008 Updated: 04 Dec 2008
Healing by little-sun
Author's Notes:
Many of your questions are answered in this chapter... The rest of them, hopefully, will come soon in the next (and last) chapter...

"Harry! Get up, son!" He heard his dad shouting, but didn't make any effort to obey. Instead, he snuggled deeper into the warm bed.

"Five minutes, please, Dad," he shouted back, not even bothering to open his eyes. This wish of his was always granted. Every morning. Actually, he had the suspicion that Dad was calling him five minutes early just to allow him to have his five minute lie-in. He grinned to himself.

It was so different to Aunt Petunia's screeching for him to ‘get his lazy ass up and prepare breakfast for dear Duddykins'. It was great to have a dad - a living dad. Of course, it was a blinding shock to learn that James Potter wasn't his dad. It was like learning that you were not who you thought you were.  A complete loss of identity. Harry had been told so many times in the past that he was practically James reincarnate, and then, all of a sudden, he had learned that he was the son of his least favourite Professor. Talk about a surprise!

At first, when he was still strongly dosed with Calming Draught, Harry had felt alright with the idea. But later, when his feelings and ruffled emotions were restored to him, he felt like he was bursting with fury. He looked like James Potter. He was a great Seeker, like James Potter. He was a night wanderer and a prankster and always disobeying rules. Exactly like James Potter. Hell, James had given up his life for Harry, and you wouldn't die for somebody else's child, would you?

He screamed at Snape to give him some proof. A piece of evidence. Snape - calmly - brewed a paternity potion. Positive. Not believing the results, Harry accused him of cheating. Snape pressed his slim lips together and left, returning a few minutes later with three potions books. He ordered Harry to study the paternity potion which Snape had brewed earlier. He then patiently re-brewed it with Harry's assistance. The result of the potion was the same. After adding seven drops of Harry's blood, the unmistakeable face of a younger Severus Snape appeared above the cauldron.

"Five minutes up! You have a visitor, Harry." This time, Severus' voice was softer. Harry opened his eyes sleepily. His father was standing in the door to Harry's room. "You should hurry up."

"Who is it?" Harry asked curiously. Upon hearing that it was Mrs. Weasley visiting, he got up quickly. He hadn't seen the Weasley matriarch for more than a month. He really hoped that Ron had cooled down by now and wanted to be his friend again!

Harry wasn't the only one who had had problems with accepting Snape as his father. Ron went ballistic when he learned this bit of information. Harry hadn't expected his friends to be thrilled over the fact that he was a Snape and that he was temporarily leaving Hogwarts, but he wasn't prepared to hear Ron's hateful crap. Hermione's reaction wasn't so strong, but Harry didn't hear her words over Ron's shouting, over the drumming in his ears and over the immense effort not to let his tears drop. He turned on his heel and shot out of the room - the Gryffindor boys' dormitory - and hadn't seen his friends since.

He knew he hadn't lost Hermione - she had written him a letter soon afterwards, saying she hadn't befriended him for being a Potter, so there was no point in changing their friendship when he stopped being one.

Harry smiled gently at the memory as he hurried down the stairs. The truth was; he fancied Hermione. He had only realised it here, in Severus' - no, their - house.  He had spent a lot of time trying to figure out why he felt the way he felt, and what he should and shouldn't do in the future. Harry had quickly realised that the only way to survive the war was to copy Hermione - to start working diligently and learn anything that might be able to help him. During the soul-searching, he had also realised how dear she was to him.

Harry shot into the living room and smiled. "Good morning, Mrs. Weasley."

She gave him a hug and complimented him on how much better he looked after two months in Severus' care. As Harry poured her tea and offered food, he gained another compliment; this time about his wonderful manners. He blushed and decided not to confess that he just imitated Severus' mannerisms around Scilla.

Harry ate a hearty breakfast and listened to Molly Weasley's happy chatter. He limited himself to an occasional nod or smile, which was evidently all right with the talkative witch.

"We - Arthur and I - went to see the Gryffindor versus Ravenclaw match," a smile, "to see the twins and Ginny fly," another smile, "and well, also because of safety." A nod. "Ginny was playing wonderfully," a smile, "but my heart nearly stopped at least four times!" A grin. "Who creates such dangerous manoeuvres, I ask you?" A noncommittal shrug." And so on and so forth.

Harry loved listening about Quidditch, and the stories about Arthur's newest Muggle utensils were as amusing as the twins' latest escapades. Still, what Harry wanted to hear most of all was that Ron had come to his senses and wanted Harry as his best friend again. He didn't know how to ask, though.

As if on cue, Severus used the pause created by Mrs. Weasley taking a sip of her tea to ask, "As we plan to get back to Hogwarts after the Easter holiday, I would like to inquire about your youngest son. I was told Harry and Ronald had some kind of altercation."

Harry blushed. He felt stupid that his dad had had to ask instead of him. Nevertheless, his eyes turned to Mrs. Weasley hopefully.

She shook her head mournfully. "I'm ashamed to admit that Ron still accuses Harry of cheating and lying. Arthur and I have talked to him at length, but he remains mulish on the matter. I really don't understand what's got into him; it's not as if Harry could have known!"

Harry hung his head sadly. That was it, then. When he got back to Hogwarts, he would have only Hermione as a friend. He didn't have many hopes about the rest of his Gryffindor classmates. Every time anything happened - him being discovered as a Parselmouth, for example - they readily turned their backs on him. All apart from Hermione. She had always stayed open minded and supportive. Would she stay as his friend, though? She was dating Ron, and if Harry and Ron didn't spend time together, Harry wouldn't be spending much time with Hermione either. He feared that they would drift apart; their friendship ending without rows or hurt feelings, just simply vanishing into nothingness.

"Harry?" Mrs. Weasley asked warily. He tried to smile reassuringly at her, but he probably failed. "Harry, I'm sure Ron will change his opinion soon. Most people's reactions were exaggerated straight after reading the Quibbler article, but they eventually cooled down and thought it through. We will talk to Ron, and-"

"I appreciate your support dearly, Molly, and I know Harry does too," Severus cut in, and Harry nodded in agreement. He did appreciate it. "However," Severus continued, "I don't think it wise to order your son to be friends with Harry. Support must be given freely, not under pressure. It would do more harm than good."

Mrs. Weasley looked at a loss. She considered the matter for a minute before nodding. "You're right, Severus. Even so, I'm angry with Ron and I won't hide it. We didn't raise our children to hate. That wouldn't do. And we are not only ones who aren't pleased with Ron's behaviour, Harry dear." She then added with a malicious gleam to her eyes, "Ron has been complaining that Hermione has yelled at him repeatedly and that they haven't been on speaking terms for a few weeks."

Harry's head shot up. Maybe he wouldn't lose Hermione after all. He had better get well soon so that he could see her again. He knew that their return to Hogwarts was dependant on his mental state. Harry was still taking ever decreasing doses of the Calming Draught daily. Soon, he would be clean.

Mrs. Weasley left soon afterwards, and Harry continued with his daily regime. He was already late for his studying period. His dad had insisted that Harry must try to keep up at least in the theoretical part of his subjects, telling him that he should work everyday from 9 a.m. to 1 p.m. Then, after lunch, he was free to do whatever he saw fit for about two hours. Scilla came after that to talk to him, and sometimes to his dad also.

Harry and his dad often prepared dinner together - other meals, Severus prepared alone -Scilla sometimes either joined them for their meal, but mostly she left for her home after she had finished her session with them. After dinner Harry and Severus would read in the living room. Harry had kept his promise to himself and read books about Defence Against the Dark Arts that Dad had helped him to choose from his library. They usually retired around ten.

Harry opened his Transfiguration schoolbook, but he couldn't concentrate. Every time he tried to read an article on metal transformation, his thoughts would drift to Ron and the rest of his housemates.

After Christmas, when he was lying in the Infirmary pretending to suffer from spattergroit - a nasty, potentially fatal and highly contagious illness - Harry had felt really awful. He still shuddered when he remembered the horrible anxiety he had suffered from, and the suffocating guilt that had been his inseparable companion back then...

Harry still felt betrayed that Dumbledore hadn't wanted him to get Scilla's help. Harry felt that without her assistance, he wouldn't have made it through intact. Stupid Dumbledore!

The more Harry talked to Severus, the more he realised to what extent the old wizard was manipulating his life. He had never thought much about why Dumbledore had never checked on him at the Dursleys, not before Hogwarts and not afterwards, or why Dumbledore had never been there when Harry was in danger. The meddler wanted to shape him into a chess figure of his own liking.

Harry was positively starting to detest the old wizard. If it weren't for his love of the Weasleys and of Hermione, he would be tempted to leave the British Wizarding World entirely and let Dumbledore deal with Voldemort by himself.

"How is it going today?" Dad asked when he came for his usual midmorning check up. Harry looked down at the very same page of the book he had started with and then at the empty parchment.

"I spaced out," he admitted sheepishly. Then, in effort to avoid admonishment - however mild Dad might make it these days - he added, "I guess I'm really worried about my friends' reactions."

Severus sat down beside him and watched him pensively. "Ronald's reaction specifically, or the attitude of your classmates generally?"

"I realised I care about Hermione's friendship more than I do about Ron's," Harry confessed his latest discovery, and blushed slightly. "Maybe I will try to get closer with Neville, too. He's an alright bloke, whatever you may think about his Potions skills." Harry defended his shy friend in advance. "I think he may understand some things better than Ron," he added, and his thoughts drifted to the two heartbreaking individuals in St. Mungo's Hospital.

Severus nodded empathetically. "Ronald has successfully lived through many risky ventures, but he never lived through tragic consequences. That is a rather dangerous combination. I hope you will learn deliberation and patience from Mr. Longbottom."

Harry blinked at his dad in surprise. He never thought Dad would say anything nice about Neville. "Why do you think Neville's patient?"

"He couldn't be a good Herbologist if he weren't patient," Severus explained and then added more firmly, "However; you're supposed to study in the mornings and let your musings wait for the afternoons."

So, Harry hadn't escaped the admonishment after all. "I'm sorry," he mumbled and watched his dad nod at him and leave the room. He focused on the Transfiguration book, or, at least, he tried to...

He had still managed to best Dumbledore. Harry snickered to himself. It was he who suggested they published their 'secret' in the Quibbler, instead of announcing it to the Headmaster and asking him for permission to make the information public. It also solved the dilemma about Severus' work as a spy. With Severus' blessing, Harry had contacted Mr. Lovegood via Scilla and an article was then printed about the mysterious discovery of Harry's parentage thanks to a herd of azure sroulivas.

Of course, people wouldn't take the article too seriously, if only for the fact that nobody had ever heard about sroulivas, azure or not. However, Severus had added a wonderful performance following his ‘discovery' of the article to make it believable. Scilla had recounted this to Harry in the Infirmary later the same day. If only Harry could have been there to see it!

***

Severus was reading the Daily Prophet as usual, sipping his second cup of tea, and ignoring murmuring and giggling of his female colleagues.

"Severus, read this." Minerva McGonagall thrust the Quibbler into his hands, pointing her long finger to a huge title saying, "Scroulivas reveal: Harry Potter is the son of Severus Snape".

 "What the hell!" Severus shouted in fury. All students jumped and turned their eyes towards him. The Potions master then marched out of the Great Hall like a god of Revenge, the crumpled Quibbler gripped in his hand, his cloak flaring wildly behind him. Everyone quickly found some other student who had the Quibbler, so that they could read what the bombshell that had set Snape off was.

Not much later, Ministry officials came to the school, acting all important and superior. By lunch, everyone knew that they had insisted on making three different paternity tests - a charm and two potions - testing Snape and Harry for a biological relationship. All of them were positive.

At dinner, the big news was spread around that Snape and Potter had vanished from Hogwarts, leaving a mass of shocked students, scandalised Professors and irate Ministry officers in their wake.

***

"Not your best day, today, as I can see." Dad's remark shook Harry out of his musings and he wondered guiltily how long the wizard had been there, watching him.

Harry cleared his throat and glanced at the clock on the wall. Oh, hell. "Sorry, Dad."

Dad sat on the same chair that he had previously. "Are you still wondering about the reactions of your classmates?" he asked without any trace of mockery in his voice. Harry liked this Severus Snape - caring and empathic.

"What will your Slytherins think?" Harry asked instead of answering the question. "Will they try to get you?"

"Are you worrying about my safety?" his dad asked, his voice disbelieving.

Harry fidgeted. "I guess," he said with embarrassment. "I know you're much better at duelling then them, but there are a lot more of them if they attack you," Harry explained hastily and blushed.

Severus sighed deeply. He didn't answer immediately, but watched Harry with a pensive expression. "I promise you that I'll watch my back," he said finally. "You have to understand that the potential danger from my Slytherin students - and not all of them have the inclination to blindly follow the Dark Lord - is nothing in comparison to the hateful rivalry amongst the Death-Eaters."

Harry nodded, feeling a bit calmer. He knew his dad would watch his own back; and Harry's back too, most likely. However, it was still so damn hard to find his old careless self. Harry suddenly wondered if he fitted into Gryffindor any more. He didn't want to appear over-anxious, as it might make his dad change their plans for moving back to Hogwarts. "All right, Dad," he said and then added flippantly, "but remember that ‘underestimating an enemy is a way to death.'" The quote was from the ‘Basic Rules of Magical Combat' by Mactus Bellum - the book that he was currently reading in the evenings.

The wizard's lips quirked in a smirk. "Brat! If you weren't so skinny, I would withhold your lunch." Harry grinned. This was another nice change from the Dursleys' loving care. His grin faded, though, when his dad added, "As it is, I will only deny you your free time. After lunch you will catch up with your Transfiguration homework."

Harry groaned, but he didn't protest. As they walked to the dining room, Dad laid his hand on Harry's shoulder. Harry smiled. On the reserved man's ‘touching scale' a hand on the shoulder was the equivalent to another person's hearty hug.

***

Harry's studies didn't go any better after lunch, though. It was a pity that Ron had behaved like a dork, he thought.

When Harry was resting in the Infirmary, Severus secretly contacted a few people he knew would put Harry's well-being above Albus' wishes. He had had to be extremely careful, using his Slytherin diplomatic sense to its full potential. Harry envied this trait of his. He knew that he would have acted like a Hippogriff in a china shop in the same situation. Dad had managed to get the Weasley parents on their side, easily - or so he had said. So, why the hell was Ron being so mulish? It was just so annoying!

Harry knew it was useless to go over it again and again, but he couldn't help it.

At three p.m. Harry looked sadly down at his empty parchment - where there were supposed to be numerous notes on metal Transfiguration - packed his things and moved to the living room. Time for therapy.

***

"Hi, Harry," Scilla greeted cheerfully and Harry instinctively got up to greet her. It was then that he realised Mrs. Weasley's praise hadn't been so inaccurate. His behaviour had changed. He hoped that it was for the better. Harry didn't want to become a stiff, Malfoy-like dork, but he didn't want to behave like a nerd either.

"Hi, Scilla," he answered and smiled. He seemed to smile more these days. "Do you want a cup of tea, Scilla? I baked a cake last night, too."

"Yes, please. So, today is D-day, isn't it?" Scilla asked and when Harry's face showed his confusion, she added, "Today Severus finishes the memory potion, doesn't he?"

Harry bit his lower lip. He didn't want to think about this. "Yes, he does." He tried to feign indifference on the topic.

Harry knew that she was observing him. Finally, when Harry was pouring the Earl-Gray, she remarked, "You are not keen to know who tampered with Severus' memories?"

I'm not keen to know the memories, he thought. Aloud, he said with a shrug, "I think it was Dumbledore. Who else would do it?" It was hard to appear casual. He tried to suppress the image of Snape forcing his mum to- No! He wouldn't think about that anymore!

Thankfully, Scilla decided to respect his unvoiced wish and didn't inquire more. She took a piece of the banana chocolate cake instead. "It's delicious. You're really a wonderful cook," she praised, just as Harry had known she would.

A week or two ago they had talked about Harry's cooking duties at the Dursleys. Scilla's guidance had helped Harry realise that he actually liked cooking - especially if he was also allowed to eat the food afterwards, and if Petunia wasn't there to scowl at him, and if he didn't have to listen to Dudley's remarks. Praise helped, too.

"Hello, Scilla," Severus greeted as he stepped into the living room. "What is the theme today? Do you want me to join you?"

"We haven't started on any topic yet," Scilla answered him. "I'm just tasting this wonderful cake. Beside that, we've only mentioned your memory potion."

Harry grinned as he saw Severus grimacing slightly. "The Tottus' Memory Restorative Concoction," he said in his teaching voice. "I've actually just finished brewing. It only needs to simmer for seventy seven minutes before I ingest it."

"And you also believe that you were Obliviated by Dumbledore?" Scilla inquired, playing with her tea cup idly.

"It's a possibility," Severus agreed moderately. "There's no point in guessing. We will know soon enough."

Harry could see that Dad was avoiding the topic like the plague, too. They both held their newly found relationship precious. They didn't need any demons looming over it.

"I would like to discuss the matter of correspondence, Scilla," his dad started on a new topic. Now, this was a topic to Harry's liking! He hadn't been allowed to write to anyone - for safety reasons, mainly - but he hadn't minded much. Now, though... Dad added in explanation to Scilla, "I have the feeling Harry's need to socialise with his friends has risen significantly."

Scilla beamed at Harry and he figured out that it was probably a good thing in her eyes. "Is it a good thing?" he checked.

"I would say it is. In winter, you were all wrapped up in yourself, like a small ball of pain. Your ‘unwrapping' has progressed a long way since then," she explained, smiling at him, evidently pleased with his success. He smiled back. He now realised that he had pushed his friends - and rest of the world, really - away, isolating himself.

They decided that Harry would contact only two people at first. He chose Hermione and Neville; and the three of them planned a safe way to deliver the correspondence. They had just agreed on Scilla Apparating to various public Owleries and sending the letters via paid - and anonymous - owls, when the timer rang. The memory potion was ready.

Dad excused himself, explaining that he would prefer privacy while he regained his memories; he then left for the lab. A few moments later, they saw him come out and climb the stairs. When the door to Dad's room clicked shut, Harry grew anxious.

"Come on; let's think about a way for Hermione to send her letters to you." Scilla tried to distract him with their previous topic of conversation. It didn't work very well. As the time progressed, Harry continued to grow more and more restless. By the time Severus emerged, Harry's nails were completely destroyed and some of them were even bleeding.

His dad descended the stairs slowly and when he entered the room, Harry could see that his eyes were red rimmed. Harry panicked.

"What happened?" He shot out of his armchair.

Severus sat down and motioned for Harry to do the same. "Forgive me if I exclude some of the details," he started. Then he paused and cleared his throat. Harry knew it wasn't easy for him to discuss private matters.

"Lily came to me one evening, she wanted to make peace. We talked and then-" he paused. "Then passion built up in both of us," his pale cheeks coloured, "you'll understand when you are older. In the morning, she said that we could only once step in the holy garden. She Obliviated me and left."

He stood up and went to pour himself a drink. Harry felt so relieved that he thought he might start crying. "So, that's good then. Right?"

Severus downed the drink. "I suppose so," he said dully.

Harry blinked at him in confusion.

It was Scilla who explained his dad's strange behaviour to him. "It's not easy to accept that you will never again receive something you crave." she explained gently. "It is even harder to miss something if you know exactly what it is that you are missing."

Harry remembered the Mirror of Erised, and his devastation when he thought about Hermione drifting away from him and vanishing into nothingness. He nodded.

"I'm sorry, Dad. I love you," he said and his voice broke a bit on the second sentence.

His dad surprised him by giving him a tight hug. "While I have you, Lily is always with me," he murmured into Harry's ear.

The End.
End Notes:
Sorry for being sappy :)


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