Reflections by purplemagik
Summary: Changing relationships, changing appearances, new friendships. What if Snape was Harry's real father, but nobody knew it? What if Harry was more than he let people see? What if love really was the key to ending a war? Harry/Hermione. Ignores HBP and DH
Categories: Parental Snape > Biological Father Snape Main Characters: .Snape and Harry (required), Draco, Hermione
Snape Flavour: None
Genres: General
Media Type: None
Tags: None
Takes Place: None
Warnings: None
Challenges: None
Series: None
Chapters: 16 Completed: No Word count: 37667 Read: 63656 Published: 22 Oct 2008 Updated: 17 Feb 2010
Calm Waters by purplemagik
Author's Notes:
Thank you to everyone who reviewed, and I'm sorry for the lack of replies. I apologize for the long gaps between updates. They are going to come much faster for the summer, and I hope to finish the story by September.

Thank you to bluedancer, who has been a wonderful beta. Unfortunately, since I'm going to try posting so frequently, the rest of the story will be unbetaed.

That means I need reviews more than ever!

Parvati sank into the sofa next to Draco. “It’s weird just meeting like this, with no tests to study for.”

“Nice, though,” Padma added from her armchair in front of the fire, closing her eyes. Outside the window, snow was falling steadily.

“We’re in for a white Christmas,” Harry commented idly. “I almost wish we were spending the holidays here, Maya.” He hadn’t said anything about the kiss, and neither had she. They talked and laughed as always, but both were too afraid to bring up the subject. It was as if it hadn’t happened.

“What, and miss out on crowds of Weasleys, muggles, and werewolves? You wouldn’t want to do that, Potter,” Draco drawled. “Besides, the castle will be so peaceful with you gone. Right Blaise?”

“Ugh… I have to spend two whole weeks with only Draco for company? How is that fair?” Blaise whined. He was sitting on the floor, leaning against the side of Padma’s chair, and thumbing through an old copy of Quidditch Through the Ages.

“The professors will be here too,” Hannah pointed out logically, smiling.

“And I hear Dumbledore really gets into the holiday spirit. If you’re lucky, some of the teachers will drink too much. They did the one year I stayed. Think of Dumbledore’s usual eccentricity, times ten.” Neville grinned. Blaise groaned, and Draco glared at Neville. The Gryffindor just laughed. “I think I’ll go raid the kitchens. Anyone want to come?”

“I will,” Padma spoke, standing, with a disgusted glance at where her sister was blatantly flirting with Draco. She followed Neville from the room, returning later with armfuls of butterbeer bottles.

Half an hour later all eight teenagers were drinking butterbeer, laughing and telling stories.

“Do you remember the look on McGonagall’s face when she walked in? And Snape too…”

“Now that I think about it, we got off rather easy. Just cleaning up the popcorn? I expected a month of detentions at least.”

“Hermione, that doesn’t really say much. You’re a pessimist,” Harry said.

“I am not!” Hermione exclaimed indignantly, to the laughter of her friends. “I’m not! I prefer to think of myself as a realist. ‘Prepare for the worst and hope for the best.’”

“She’s right. I was expecting a worse punishment as well. I think they were too shocked. Professor Snape seemed almost amused. And what is it they say… ‘The nice part about being a pessimist is that you are constantly being either proven right or pleasantly surprised.’ Is that such a bad thing?” Hannah said as she grabbed another butterbeer. That started a lively debate on the advantages of seeing the glass as half full or half empty, which turned to pure silliness within ten minutes. It was nearly midnight before they parted, two at a time, using the Marauder’s Map to avoid patrolling teachers.


Only when he stumbled out of the fireplace at Grimmauld Place did it occur to Harry to wonder just to whom the house belonged now. As Remus helped him to his feet, Harry voiced the question. Remus frowned.

“Albus hasn’t explained yet?” He looked much the same as when Harry had last seen him, though with more grey hair, and lines deepening on his face. At least his robes were new.

“No, we haven’t really spoken… Of course, we didn’t really part on the best of terms last year either. And he’s seemed really preoccupied.” Remus nodded absently.

“We’ll talk after dinner, okay Cub?”

“Sure Remus,” Harry replied, blinking away tears at the nickname. He wasn’t sure if he could stay a week here. Even the smell of the old house was bringing back memories of Sirius. Remus looked at him sympathetically. Harry nodded, understanding the unspoken words, and turned away.

“Harry! Come here! My family’s already arrived!” Hermione yelled from the kitchen. A little nervous, Harry headed towards her voice. Relax! It’s not as if they realize I’m more than half in love with their daughter. Or that she kissed me. Or that I keep hoping it’s going to happen again. Steeling himself and entering the room, he saw Hermione standing by the sink with her mother, while her father and an old woman Harry hadn’t met before were seated at the table. Hermione stopped midsentence and smiled at Harry when he walked in.

“Hello,” he said awkwardly, addressing the room at large.

“Harry, you’ve met my parents, Steven and Alison Granger, and this is my Nana, my dad’s mom.” Hermione was still smiling, obviously thrilled to see her family. Harry felt a slight twinge of jealousy, but quickly pushed it away.

“Hello Mr. and Mrs. Granger, and Mrs. Granger,” he said, nodding to each member of Hermione’s family. Mr. Granger opened his mouth to speak, but his mother beat him to it.

“None of that ‘Mrs.’ nonsense for me, young man. You can just call me Nana,” said the woman Harry hadn’t recognized. She smiled at him and Harry was startled to realize she had the same warm brown eyes as Hermione.

“That goes for us too Harry. You’re our daughter’s best friend. I’m Steve, and this is Aly.” They both smiled at him, and Hermione’s mother poured two more cups of tea, for him and Hermione.

“Thank you,” was all Harry could manage. Conversation and love flowed easily around the table. Like the Weasleys, all those years ago, the Granger’s accepted him into their family. But it was different, because they were accepting him as Harry, without really knowing about Voldemort or the Boy-who-lived. And in some indefinable way, it was more important to Harry that Hermione’s family accept him.


With Kreacher dead, a subject about which Remus was rather tight lipped, Mrs. Black’s portrait was silent. Remus speculated that the old house elf may have been channeling some of his life force into the painting. Harry called Dobby, and asked him if he’d be willing to help out with Christmas preparations. Dobby then enlisted Winky, and with a force of the two elves, Harry, Hermione, Remus, Tonks, who had been staying at headquarters for several months, the Grangers and Nana (though only in the safer areas), the gloomy Dark residence was transformed into a cheerful holiday wonderland by December 23rd.

It was midnight by the time everyone had slipped off to bed. Harry sat in the armchair in front of the fireplace, letting his mind wander. He was slipping into his meditative state when Remus entered the room.

“I promised we’d talk, but it’s been a bit hectic around here. You do have Lily’s ability to get things done.” He looked at the Christmas tree in the corner, which was covered with happily glowing fairies Winky had persuaded to take a vacation from Hogwarts. “Sirius would have loved to see the house like this.”

“I wish he could,” Harry replied softly, automatically tearing up. He had avoided thinking about his godfather for months, and with a simple comment from Remus, the grief was pushed to the surface. The man looked at him with concern.

“Have you cried yet Cub?” Tears streaming down his cheeks, Harry shook his head.

“No. Not really.” He stopped crying with a heroic effort, and wiped his eyes.

“Harry… You need to grieve. You need to talk…”

“I don’t want to bloody talk!” Harry snapped. Then he sighed. “I’m sorry Remus. It’s just… difficult. I go from grief to anger to guilt to plain old confusion in the blink of an eye.”

“It’s alright Harry. I do too sometimes. I wish I could have been there for you over the summer, but the Order kept me rather busy. I was pretty much a wreck myself. Tonks actually took my wand and wouldn’t let me out of the house until I talked to her about Sirius and we both had an emotional breakdown.” At Harry’s apprehensive look, he quickly added, “Don’t worry, I don’t intend to employ the same tactic with you.”

“Good. I’d hex you into next year once I had my wand back. But on a side note, what’s going on with Tonks?” Harry smirked a bit at the older wizard’s blush. “I see…”

“Harry James Potter, we are not discussing my relationship with…”

“Relationship?” Harry grinned now, pushing aside the twinge he felt when Remus used his middle name. Did James Potter know Harry wasn’t his son? Could Sirius have loved Harry had he known the truth?

“Yes, Harry, relationship. One that isn’t any of your business, young man.” He said with mock sternness. “Changing the subject, I want to talk to you about Sirius’s will.”

“Harry’s grin faded, and he looked at Remus intently. “I hadn’t honestly thought about it.”

“I know.” Remus shook his head. “That’s one of the most amazing things about you Harry. Even when Sirius was alive, it didn’t occur to you to wonder how much money he had. He bought you a Firebolt, he owned this house, and was throwing away priceless treasures just because he didn’t like the reminders. And you never asked for anything. Never gave any indication you even thought about money. And now, well, I bet you wouldn’t care if all Sirius’s worldly possessions had been divided amongst his friends.”

“They weren’t? He knows… knew… that I already have the Potter vaults.” Harry was surprised at Remus’s assessment. It was true that he never gave any thought to Sirius’s wealth, or his own for that matter, but it just hadn’t occurred to him. Now that he thought about it, it would make much more sense to leave everything to Remus and a few others.

“Sirius left me a small house in Hogsmeade that he bought only recently. I’m staying here only until it’s properly warded. And enough money to live very comfortably for about 500 more years.” He shook his head. “He left Andromeda and Ted Tonks another small fortune, and left some money and a lot of the more harmless family heirlooms to Tonks. I think he was hoping she’d come up with creative ways to destroy them. The Weasleys were given a good sum as well. Grimmauld Place and the rest of the money are yours. That’s something like 2 billion galleons.”

“Two billion…” Harry stared openmouthed at Remus. “You’re joking.”

“At one point, Harry, the Blacks were richer than the Malfoys. At the moment, the Potters, by which I mean you, are the second richest family in Britain.” Harry stopped breathing for a moment. How would Remus react if he found out that Harry wasn’t a Potter? That he was a Snape? The werewolf misinterpreted his look. “I know it’s a lot to take in.”

“Yeah,” Harry agreed, snapping out of his panicked thoughts. “What on earth do I do with 2 billion galleons?” Remus just laughed at him.

“I’m sure you’ll think of something. Now, why don’t you tell me about all this extra time you’ve been spending with one Miss Hermione Granger?”


“Harry! Get out of bed! It’s Christmas!” Hermione banged on the door with her fist. A moment later it opened to reveal a very sleepy looking Harry Potter, wearing only a pair of striped pajama pants. Ok, that sight is a Christmas present in itself… She must have been staring, because Harry glanced down at his bare chest and blushed before retreating to grab a shirt.

“You take the Dreamless Sleep potion last night?” Hermione asked as they walked downstairs.

“Yeah, wanted to be well rested for Christmas.” She smiled at him, but wished she could do something so that a good night’s rest wasn’t such a rare occurrence. In the living room, her parents and Nana were already gathered around the tree. Professor Lupin and Tonks entered as the two teenagers settled themselves on the floor.

“Happy Christmas everyone,” Lupin greeted, starting a chorus of holiday greetings around the room. Then it was time for the gifts. Hermione received a giftcard to a bookstore in Hogsmeade from Professor Lupin, and one to a muggle bookstore from her parents, as well as a beautiful new quill and stationary set, which she supposed was a hint to write more often. Tonks gave her a book on magical and muggle techniques to change someone’s appearance, with the promise to show her some of the trickier spells.

Nana gave her clothes, including an adorable denim skirt that was shorter than anything she currently owned. “You have nice legs, and you should show’em off while you’re young enough to do it.”

Harry watched her closely as she unwrapped the gift from him, which turned out to be a delicate platinum locket in the shape of a book, with a phoenix engraved on the cover. Opening it, she found a tiny moving photograph of the two of them sitting by the lake. She could feel the strong protective magic radiating from it.

“That should help block a lot of lower level spells, and it will grow hot if you’re about to consume anything containing poison or a dangerous potion,” Harry explained. She immediately put it on and nearly squeezed the life out of him with her hug.

Harry received several hardcover muggle classics from the Grangers, and a book titled How to Be a Gentleman from Nana. Hermione blushed when she saw it, but Harry just laughed and thanked the interfering old woman. Lupin’s gift to Harry was a framed photograph of himself, Harry, and Sirius, apparently taken sometime the previous summer. He also gave Harry several books on Wizarding customs and politics. Tonks gave him a small worn paperback. “The Auror Handbook. It’s illegal for you to have it, since you aren’t in auror training, but you need it more than anyone. And if you decide to be an auror, you’ll have a headstart.”

Harry lifted the package from Hermione and shook it next to his ear. “It’s not a book is it?” He joked, glancing at the large pile of books beside him, though the package was small enough to fit on the palm of one hand. Opening it, he found the white gold bracelet nestled in its case. It was composed of simple links, except for the thin, narrow, curved plate that was the front of the bracelet.

“Put it on,” Hermione urged, reaching into the pocket of her robe to pull out a similar, but smaller, bracelet and putting it on. As Harry fastened his, looking puzzled, she pressed two fingers to the plate on hers. Harry, feeling his new bracelet grow warm, looked down to see the words “Merry Christmas” appear on its surface. “Only you can read it, and only you can take it off. To send me a message, just press the plate and concentrate on what you want to send.”

Hermione watched him examine the bracelet more closely, and then felt her own grow warm on her wrist. Looking down, she did a double take as she saw the words “I love you” appear briefly on her wrist, only to be replaced by a simple “Thank you” a split-second later. She stared at Harry, forgetting the others in the room as they looked at each other. Does he even realize he sent that? Then, ignoring the fact that her parents and grandmother, and his only paternal figure, were watching, he leaned in and kissed her softly on the lips. Her head spun, and she barely heard Nana’s wolf whistle or Tonks’s cheering as she pulled back and looked into his eyes, registering the insecurity, hope, and love she saw there. She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him again.


After the surprisingly mild talk from Hermione’s parents, who, it seemed, approved of him, a “You take good care of my granddaughter now, you hear?” from Nana, and a rather embarrassing conversation with Remus, who felt it his duty to make sure Harry knew the facts of life and got a decent lecture on safety and responsibility, Harry was drained. He made it through Christmas dinner, and withdrew to talk with Hermione for an hour, during which he formally asked her out, she laughed at him and said “Of course,” and there was more kissing, between the adults poking their heads in “to check up on them,” or as Hermione put it “to make sure they weren’t shagging like bunny rabbits.”

Harry fell into bed that night with a smile on his face, and, for once, fell asleep immediately.

Voldemort stood in a dimly lit room with opulent furnishings. A Death Eater entered and knelt at his feet.

He’s here, My Lord,” the man reported, still kneeling.

Good Luciusss… Bring him in.” Harry realized his situation and reinforced his mental shields. Then he tried to slowly extricate himself from Voldemort’s mind. He really didn’t want to see whatever this was. And he needed to report that Malfoy was out of prison. He came across a barrier. Voldemort’s own mental shields were keeping him trapped. *Yesss Potter. I know you’re here, watching. I need your help tonight.*

Voldemort’s voice sounded cold and serpentine even in his mind. Harry let fear and disgust radiate past his mental shields, hoping to keep Voldemort from realizing he knew some Occlumency. If he realized, he could smash through Harry’s relatively weak shields in seconds, but as long as he thought Harry’s mind was an open book…

Malfoy returned, with another Death Eater behind him. “Ah, Severus. How nice of you to join us. Please, both of you, remove your masks.” Voldemort turned to Harry once more as the two masks revealed the faces of Lucius Malfoy and Severus Snape. Harry thought fast. If he didn’t know Snape was a spy, what would his reaction be? He projected shock, anger, and a smug “I knew it” feeling to Voldemort. Then he started pushing memories past his shields.

Snape sneering at him on the very first day of school. Snape taking points from Gryffindor. Snape making jibes about Harry’s father. Snape’s fury and hatred when he threw Harry out of his office after the Pensieve incident. Snape’s speech in DADA at the beginning of the year and his obvious appreciation of the Dark Arts.

It seemed that Voldemort was disappointed. He turned his attention back to the two men kneeling in front of him. “Apparently Severus, I have no reason to suspect your loyalties… for the moment. Though, I think your obvious hatred of Potter and his friends might be giving away too much about whose side you’re on, don’t you? An over-the-top performance. You’ll have to work on that. Crucio!”

Snape writhed on the floor, face contorted with pain, but didn’t make a sound. Voldemort watched with sadistic glee, not ending the curse until an anguished scream was torn from the Potion Master’s lips.

To be continued...
End Notes:
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