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: 63655 Published: 22 Oct 2008 Updated: 17 Feb 2010
Reflecting by purplemagik
Author's Notes:
Thank you to those who reviewed. Reviews are very much appreciated. This chapter's a bit slow action-wise, but it has a lot of Severus Snape in it.

"Italicized quotations will be the message bracelets worn by Harry and Hermione"

Severus woke to the familiar surroundings of the Hogwarts infirmary. Frankly, he was surprised to be awake at all. He had assumed Lucius would drop him at the usual site outside Hogwarts grounds, but nobody knew that he had been summoned. It happened suddenly, while he was in Knockturn Alley buying potions supplies, and there was no way for him to get a message to Dumbledore. After a solid ten minutes of Cruciatus, he was out cold and would have been incapable of movement even had he been conscious. So how did I get here?

He could hear voices coming from Poppy’s office, but he wasn’t about to draw attention to himself. The mediwitch would discover that he was awake on her own, and she would fuss and scold enough to give him a migraine, and he hadn’t the slightest inclination to make that happen sooner than it needed to, even to satisfy his curiosity. He sighed, and shifted his head to a more comfortable position.

“Professor? You awake?” Came a whispered voice from his right. Turning his head rapidly, Severus realized he was not the only patient in the infirmary. In the bed next to his was the bane of his existence, Harry Potter.

“Obviously,” he drawled at Potter’s question. “Why are you here Potter? Getting yourself into trouble again?”

“In a manner of speaking. But only if you consider Voldemort’s mind to be trouble.” Severus groaned at the boy’s response. Will he never learn to shield his mind? You would think that after those disastrous Occlumency lessons he would have put some effort into it! Though I imagine it’s his incompetence I have to thank for my life. Doubtless his report caused Dumbledore to look for me.

“That, Mr. Potter, is the very definition of trouble. I assume you informed the headmaster of last night’s events?”

“Only that Malfoy is back, that you were tortured, and approximately for how long. He wants details, but agreed to wait until you were awake so that I could repeat the story only once.”

“How considerate,” Severus replied, turning his head to stare at the ceiling. He was not in the mood for idle chit-chat with Potter. Or anyone, but especially Potter. He hasn’t been as bad this year… More mature perhaps. Or maybe it is only that I don’t have to deal with him in class. It is easier to deal with the boy when not confronted with evidence of his incompetence.

It was silent for several minutes. He assumed they shared the goal of avoiding Poppy’s attention, and was immensely grateful for the quiet. Then he heard faint whispers from his right again. Turning, he saw Draco and Blaise standing at the foot of Potter’s bed, the three of them apparently absorbed in conversation. Potter nodded in his direction, and the two Slytherins turned to look at him. Draco smirked.

“Uncle Severus!” His godson greeted softly, walking over. “Good to see you awake. Don’t you love the bed arrangement? Blaise and I suggested you and Harry be placed together so you’d both have someone to talk to.” Severus’s glare could have melted stone.

“Why you little…” He began, but was interrupted by Potter’s furious whisper.

“You thought it would be funny to watch Professor Snape kill me, why exactly? I swear when I get my wand back I’m going to hex you both into those wriggling puddles of goo Hermione mentioned as an appropriate fate. Better yet, I’ll just let Hermione have at you.” Draco clutched chest in mock terror. Blaise actually looked a bit nervous.

“Not nice, Potter. Besides, Uncle Severus wouldn’t kill you, just throw some hexes, and yes, I think it would be very amusing to watch. But since he’ll now contain his annoyance with you, just to annoy me, I’ll have to come up with an alternative form of entertainment.” His grin grew wider. “Oh Madam Pomfrey!” Draco called, and the mediwitch immediately bustled over. Severus groaned and glared once more at his godson, who had the audacity to smirk at him. The glare seems to be losing its effect. These children used to cower when I looked at them like that.

Then Severus noticed Potter’s gaze, which was focused on Draco. The Gryffindor’s face was scrunched up in concentration. Suddenly, Draco was tap dancing wildly. Potter was smirking. Draco was yelling. Poppy was scolding. Blaise was laughing. Severus was staring at the boy-who-lived in shock. Wordless, wandless magic? With no training? Has the world gone mad? When did he learn that? How?

It was several minutes before Madam Pomfrey could return Draco to normal, since it was difficult to train a wand on someone moving so erratically. Draco and Blaise left, Draco shooting death glares at a still smirking Harry Potter, while Poppy fussed over Severus, making him eat a piece of chocolate and take his usual assortment of post-Cruciatus potions. Then she turned to Potter.

“How do you feel Mr. Potter?” He looked up at her with obvious exasperation.

“I was okay last night, but you insisted I stay for observation. Madam Pomfrey, I’m fine. I’ve gotten a decent night’s rest, and I was never physically harmed. May I go now? Please?” The boy’s eyes were wide and innocent as he begged for his freedom.

“Puppy eyes don’t work on me, Mr. Potter. You may go tomorrow morning, if I think you’re strong enough. These visions are mentally, physically, and magically draining for you. Don’t roll your eyes! And don’t even try to tell me you had a restful night. I haven’t ever seen anybody toss and turn as much as you do. In fact, tonight you’re taking Dreamless Sleep.”

“I can’t.”

“And why not?”

“I took some on Christmas Eve.” He replied, hoping she wouldn’t ask any more questions. She didn’t. Severus did.

“And why, Mr. Potter, did you feel the need to take that potion on Christmas Eve? Couldn’t you sleep for the visions of sugar plums dancing through your head?” His tone was biting, but he was curious to discover whether or not his suspicions were correct.

“I don’t see why it’s any of your business, Professor.”

“Don’t take that tone with me young man!” To Severus’s great surprise, Potter just stared at him, blinked slowly, and nodded. It was something he sometimes said to his godson, when the boy’s cheek got out of hand, but never had it worked so well with Draco. Why is he looking at me strangely?

“Sorry Professor,” Potter said quietly. “Nightmares. Most nights. Not too bad, but I didn’t want them on Christmas.”

“And where, Mr. Potter, did you procure the potion?” Severus wasn’t going to waste this rare cooperative mood the boy was in, especially as he wanted answers about that display of wandless magic. Potter, obviously startled by the question, seemed to weigh his options before answering. Poppy left them and returned to her office, seemingly uninterested in the rest of the conversation.

“Hermione made it for me.”

“You’re lying.”

“How do you know that?”

“I didn’t. I suspected, and you confirmed. The truth, if you would.”

“I made it. It isn’t all that complicated really.”

“Tell that to my NEWT potions class.” Severus regretted saying it as soon as it came out of his mouth. It was a compliment. Given rarely, and never to the spawn of James Potter. The boy stared at him for a moment, and then broke into laughter.

“You…” Potter gasped for breath, giggling uncontrollably. “Your face… you look so… horrified.” Severus glared at the boy, but it only resulted in a fresh wave of laughter. Gradually, the raven-haired teenager pulled himself together. He looks like Lily when he laughs. “Don’t worry Professor. I’ll consider it just an insult to your NEWT class. I’m sure no compliment was intended.”

“I’m glad to see you getting along so well. I honestly hadn’t expected Mr. Malfoy’s idea of placing you together to work so marvelously,” Dumbledore greeted them, eyes twinkling madly, as he conjured a chair.

“Do you know how annoying it is when you just pop out of nowhere like that?” Potter asked the headmaster irritably, sitting up a bit.

“Of course, dear boy. That’s why I do it.” Severus heard Potter mutter something under his breath about old men eating too many lemon drops, and smirked slightly. The headmaster didn’t comment. “So, Severus, how do you feel?”

“Peachy.”

“Now Severus, no need to sound so irritable. Sarcasm isn’t an effective method of communication.” Dumbledore turned to Potter once more. “So, Harry, why don’t you recount your vision for us, from the beginning, if you please?”

“Okay…” The boy took a breath before beginning. Then another. He looked a bit like he was going to puke. Then he launched into the story, speaking so quickly that Severus had a hard time distinguishing words, but the headmaster seemed to have no trouble following along. “I’ve been practicing Occlumency a bit over the summer, and I had my shields up before I went to sleep. The problem is, when I’m sleeping, I don’t think it matters. The link with Voldemort is too deep inside my mind. I found myself in his head again, in some fancy room.”

“Very specific, Potter. What color was the room? What did the furnishings look like?” Severus was tempted just to use Legilimency on the boy, just to prevent a headache, but if Voldemort somehow found out this conversation had even taken place…

“Green. Very Slytherin. A marble fireplace.”

“Yes, Malfoy Manor. The vision was accurate, at least in location.”

“Malfoy told Moldywarts that you had arrived, and then sent him to fetch you. I tried to pull myself out of the vision, but I ran into barriers. Then Voldemort started talking to me.” Severus was startled by this bit of news, but didn’t show it. Dumbledore’s eyes lost a bit of twinkle, and he leaned forward in his chair.

“You couldn’t leave his mind, Harry? Did you try?”

“Not really. Maybe if I used all my willpower to slam into his mental barriers I could have escaped, but I didn’t want to let on that I knew anything about the Mental Arts. So I stayed.” Potter glanced from Dumbledore to Snape, making sure there were no more clarifications required, before continuing. “He said he needed my help, and then Malfoy came in with Professor Snape.”

“I cannot note any discrepancies.” Severus replied to the headmaster’s inquiring look.

“He made them take their masks off. I figured he wanted to see what I know about Sna… Professor Snape’s loyalties. So I started thinking about every time he took points, or gave detention, or said anything horrible, and fed all of the emotion to Voldemort. I don’t think he suspected anything. But I must have gone too far, because then he cast Cruciatus because your act was too much, and he wanted to hear you scream, and you wouldn’t, and he wouldn’t stop until you did, and I tried to project satisfaction, but I was terrified…” Potter’s voice trailed off and he looked helplessly at Severus. “I’m sorry.”

Severus just stared at the boy. Is he lying about practicing Occlumency, or did that incident with Black finally teach him to take it seriously? How deep is his connection with the Dark Lord? If he learns discipline, can we use it to our advantage? Is this an act, or genuine concern? And where the hell did he learn wandless, or wordless magic?

When it became apparent Severus wasn’t going to reply, Dumbledore touched Potter’s hand to get his attention. “Harry, it wasn’t your fault that Professor Snape was tortured. Voldemort would have used any excuse. He enjoys pain, and he’s been suspicious of Professor Snape for some time now. He will not act until he has proof, because having an agent inside Hogwarts is too valuable to him. You protected the secret admirably, and bought us more time.”

“If it’s so dangerous, why let Professor Snape continue spying? What happens when Voldemort finds out?”

“As touching as your concern is, I am perfectly aware of the dangers involved here, Potter, as is the headmaster. The details of my work for the Order are between us, and do not involve foolish would-be heroes,” Severus sneered at the boy.

“Forgive me, Professor, for my obviously unwarranted anxiety about your safety, and of course, the safety of the only organization actively fighting the megalomaniac who wants to destroy civilization. I can see you have it under control,” Potter snapped.

“Ah! Unfortunately I must take my leave. Things to do, you know,” Dumbledore cut in loudly, before vanishing his chair and walking away, humming happily to himself. Potter sat up in bed and got into a cross-legged position, with his back to Severus. Severus turned so that he didn’t have to look at Potter. And now that he’s busy pouting, I don’t suppose he’ll answer my questions about that display of wandless magic. Perhaps he’ll be done with sulking by tomorrow morning and I can get him to talk then. The boy’s been hiding a lot, and I want to see just how much everyone’s been missing.


Hermione was in the library, too worried to read. Professor Lupin had said Harry was to be kept for a day or two of observation, and it set her brain to creating all sorts of scenarios. They’ve never had to keep him that long before, for just a vision? Was this one different or more damaging? Have there been long term health effects of the connection that nobody saw until this time?

She was pulling a heavy book about magical injuries from its shelf, hoping to find something on curse scars, when her wrist grew warm. She dropped the book on a nearby armchair and looked down at her bracelet. “Bored…”

Stuck in the infirmary?” she replied, relieved to hear from him.

With Snape… who is fine, by the way. And being his usual self.”

I’m sorry.” Hermione knew Harry was intent upon keeping his parentage secret, even from Snape, if the man didn’t already know. She couldn’t blame him for wanting to avoid the confrontation with his volatile biological father, but if he didn’t she had a feeling his questions would just eat at him from the inside until he went crazy.

Haven’t hexed him yet. Hexed Malfoy. Was funny.”

Talked to Professor Dumbledore yet?”

Yes. Man’s loony.”

Harry!”

It’s true! Anyway, I’m fine, you can stop worrying.”

Coming back tonight?”

In the morning. Pomfrey finally has me where she can drown me in potions, and she’s not letting go easily.”

Okay. Have fun. See you tomorrow.”

Hermione?”

Still here.”

Miss you.”

Miss you too. Get some sleep.”

It’s not even dark yet!”

Don’t care. You need sleep.”

Yes Ma’am.” Hermione smiled and returned the book to its was pretty sure Harry had already looked through it anyway. She browsed the library for something interesting to read until bedtime. She scanned the shelves, humming to herself, and thinking about a certain green-eyed boy with jet black hair… Stop that! Hermione Granger, your brain is turning to mush. Just because he’s your boyfriend… Oh my God, Harry’s my boyfriend! She gave up on trying to make her thoughts behave. It was hopeless. She walked along the shelves, absently running a hand along the spines of the books.

Maybe they were too young to be in love, but when she thought of him, that was the only word that seemed to fit. She loved the way he looked when he stumbled out of his room in the morning, hair tousled, rubbing sleep from his eyes. She loved his boyish delight in discovering something new, or grasping a new concept. She loved his intelligence and his humor. She loved that she could trust him with her secrets.

Suddenly her hand tingled. Looking down, she saw her hand was resting on a large brown book. Curiosity overwhelmed caution as she pulled it from its shelf, and brought it over to the table in front of the fireplace. It had no title, only a heart engraved in the leather of its cover. Opening it to the first page, she saw a warning in flowing, blood-red script.

A power beyond any other, love is incorruptible.
People are not.

Use the knowledge imparted by these pages with care.

Flipping through the pages, Hermione’s face flitted through expressions of apprehension, curiosity, horror, and wonder. This could be useful.

To be continued...
End Notes:
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