Blood Magic by GatewayGirl
Summary: Blood magic was supposed to keep Harry safe, but his relatives are expendable. Blood magic was supposed to keep Harry looking like his adoptive father, but it's wearing off. Blood is a bond, but so is the memory of hate -- or love.
Categories: Parental Snape > Biological Father Snape > Severitus Challenge Main Characters: .Snape and Harry (required), Draco, Hermione, Remus
Snape Flavour: None
Genres: Action/Adventure, Drama
Media Type: None
Tags: Slytherin!Harry, Snape-meets-Dursleys
Takes Place: 6th summer
Warnings: Alcohol Use, Drug use, Neglect, Profanity, Romance/Het, Romance/Slash, Torture, Violence
Challenges: None
Series: Blood Magic Universe
Chapters: 84 Completed: Yes Word count: 337748 Read: 759850 Published: 14 Dec 2009 Updated: 14 Jan 2010
The Game by GatewayGirl

Harry was woken by Ron in the morning.

"Hm?"

"Do you want breakfast?"

"Suppose." Harry sat up and yawned. "Let me get dressed."

It wasn't that he felt any better about what Ron had done, he thought; it just seemed too awkward to go back to avoiding social contact with him. He was still musing about how he should treat Ron when they arrived in the common room. Hermione was waiting for them, or perhaps just for Ron. She turned a bit red when she saw Harry.

"Hi," Harry said.

"Good morning. How are you feeling?"

"Fine. I still need--" Harry stopped himself. "I need to talk to Dumbledore," he said.

"May I walk with you?" Hermione asked. The request had a "we need to talk" tone to it. Harry hesitated a moment before consenting.

They left the room in silence, and went down the stairs likewise. It wasn't until they turned down the corridor to Dumbledore's office that Hermione spoke.

"I didn't get anything done, last night."

"Of course you did," Harry answered.

"Not really."

"You kept me from getting myself killed. That's something."

"You wouldn't really have--"

Harry stopped and turned to face her. "Voldemort was within walking distance of Hogwarts!" he said emphatically. "He summoned the Death Eaters. I wanted to go and spy, because there are people I want to keep safe. I kept nearly convincing myself it was a good idea." Harry took a deep breath and looked seriously at Hermione, who was now wide-eyed with fear. "You did a lot last night, just by being there and not scolding too much."

"Oh," Hermione managed. She forced a shaky smile. "A particular blond went too far, perhaps?"

Harry gave a short laugh. "Ask me no questions; I'll tell you no lies."

"I see," said Hermione grimly. Harry was confident she didn't. She let out a long breath. "That-- last night.... Do you do that often?"

Harry's desire to be reassuring was in conflict with the knowledge her concern was useful, and he should lead her on. After hesitating for an awkward length of time, he said:

"Of course not." He waited for her nod to start, then added, "it's no fun alone."

Her head whipped back up to stare at him, and he felt his smile grow broader. He lifted his eyebrows at her. "Yes?" he inquired mockingly.

She looked at him angrily. "How are you supposed to save the world if you're so high that you have to stop and play with everyone's hair?"

His amusement died instantly. "I'm not supposed to save the world," he said grimly; "I'm supposed to kill Voldemort. I have no idea how I'll do that. I don't want to kill."

Hermione looked stunned. "Oh, Harry!" she exclaimed in sympathy, and she embraced him. He submitted to the touch and tried not to let the comfort remind him of things that hurt.

"Anyway," he said to her softly, while nuzzling at her hair, "I expect that something that lasts fifteen minutes, with only five of that really affecting competence, is unlikely to damage my chances much. Now, go to breakfast. I really do need to talk to Professor Dumbledore."


"Harry! What an unexpected pleasure," Professor Dumbledore said cordially. "Please sit down."

Harry eyed him uncertainly as he sat. "Do you mean that?" he asked.

"Unexpected, a pleasure, or sit down?" Dumbledore asked cheerfully.

"Well, I'm confident of the 'sit down' part.

"Perhaps not completely unexpected," Dumbledore admitted, with a slight smile, "but I was not certain you would come, either." He nodded his head. 'And, you may be assured, I am always pleased to see you."

"Thank you," Harry said politely. "I wanted-- Is Severus back?"

"Yes. He returned before midnight."

"Does he need to go back on Sunday?

Dumbledore looked startled, then disappointed. "Your father told me you had enough control to stop the visions."

"They don't seem to come on while I'm awake, anymore," Harry explained hastily. "And before I go to sleep at night, I make sure to clear my mind as much as possible, so I haven't had any during the night, either. But this-- I dozed off during my Transfiguration reading. I was completely unprepared."

"And what did you do?" Dumbledore inquired.

"I'd already told some of my friends not to let me leave, so I was pretty well taken care of."

Dumbledore nodded. "A wise precaution." He smiled. "And so you were not unprepared, after all. Still, you should be able to break the connection after the vision starts. Could you do that?"

"No. Once I'm in it, I want to see everything."

"Perhaps you should have a few lessons with me, as well."

"That might help. Oh -- I told Draco -- Malfoy -- that I'd studied Occlumency with you."

"Should young Mr. Malfoy be informed of your skills?" the old wizard asked mildly.

"I'd already rather displayed them, unfortunately. He was asking who taught me. He knows how to do it too! We used it to get weird noise changes out of a Kerner Dark Detector. No one else seemed to understand how we did it, though, so I think no one else knew Occlumency."

Dumbledore laughed. "I haven't seen that done in many decades!" His smile grew distant for a moment. "One of my companions in the fight against Grindewald could play 'Mary Had a Little Lamb' that way. Rather slurred, but recognizable." The headmaster looked sharply at Harry. "Did you do this during class?"

Harry nodded. "Looking back at it, it was rather rude."

"Professor Lupin will not be able to complain, you know," Dumbledore confided with merry cheer. "If he does, Professor McGonagall will be smiling behind her hand, and Professor Flitwick will tell him it's no more than he deserves."

"Impudence and disruption?"

"Of the cleverest sort, and from a student who charms him."

Harry looked down. "And one who doesn't. He's worried that I'm talking to Draco, now."

"Ah." Dumbledore looked thoughtful. "Do you feel the association will do you any harm?"

"No."

"In that case, I would advise -- as you might expect -- that you continue it. I have never allowed others' opinions to dissuade me from alliances of any sort."

"Such as my father."

"Yes," Dumbledore admitted. "Speaking of which," he added, pushing aside some things on his desk, "he left a message for you." He handed Harry a folded note. "He suggested you read it here and not take it with you, as a precaution."

The note, on the outside, was addressed to "Harry." Inside, the text started without any salutation:

Thank you for your forbearance; I was relieved not to find you in my rooms, last night. I have rescheduled our meeting to tonight, although I may not be free until after student curfew. Please come down before then and let yourself in -- I will leave the floo blocked -- and I will join you when I am able to do so.

Harry tried to restrain a smile. "I'm invited down after curfew."

"Yes, we discussed this, and he has my approval." Dumbledore looked warningly at Harry. "I will not protect you from punishment if you are caught, however."

"Obviously," Harry agreed. For a moment, both were silent.

"Is that all?" Dumbledore asked gently. "Or is there something else you wish to ask me?"

Harry paused a moment, preparing himself. "What's the state of the guardianship question?" he asked.

"There will be no substantial news until the hearing, in fifteen days. In all honesty, I expect my plea to be rejected. The leader of those deciding wants me to lose, and my claim is not substantial. He can even note that I was given leeway the last time you required a guardian, and the decision I made then did not turn out to be in your best interests."

"So what will happen?"

"The Ministry will claim custody of you, and they must allow four weeks for that claim to be appealed. That gives us until All Souls Day."'

"But won't Fudge have control over me for those four weeks?"

"Yes, but he is unlikely to do anything that might make observers uneasy. I suspect you will remain here, living much as you have. He may send you gifts, or visit, but perhaps not."

"What about Severus's history? Won't people object to me going to someone who was a confessed Death Eater?"

"Certainly they will object, but it will not matter. He is your father. An objection from you would be the only one taken as valid." Dumbledore hesitated. "In fact, as you were conceived with Herem, you are entirely his child. If Lily were still alive, even she would have no legal right to you."

"What?"

"Lily and James went to great lengths to protect you, Harry. They could have gone to Azkaban for keeping you from him."

Harry looked down, both horrified and awed.

"James," he said slowly, remembering, "called me his stolen child."

"Yes," Dumbledore said. "Herem is the Heir Spell, and performing it is a contract both legal and, to many, sacred. You were conceived to be Severus Snape's heir."

Harry thought. "Will this damage their reputations?" he asked.

Dumbledore looked surprised at the question. "Perhaps a bit," he conceded. He smiled warmly at Harry. "But mostly among those who already hate them. Don't worry about it. In general, it will be seen as a romantic tragedy of honor and love. The populace at large will readily forgive them."

"Do you think they were right to do what they did?" Harry asked tentatively. He felt a stab of fear, and realized he had never allowed himself to think otherwise.

Dumbledore sighed. "I have considered that for many hours since Severus first came to me with his letter from Lily. I am not sure. He does, indeed, have more control than he did, then -- both self-control and resistance to Voldemort. They were certainly better suited to raise a child, and, despite their deaths, more likely to live. He was terribly reckless in the days before Voldemort's first fall. After it, he was bitter and melancholy, but stopped, for the most part, deliberately endangering himself." Dumbledore sat back and stroked his beard.

"You have been good for him," he declared. "I have caught glimpses in him of a humor I had thought long dead. I think he has, perhaps, even been good for you." Dumbledore smiled. "Now, would a baby have improved his disposition then? I don't know. Perhaps it would have made it worse. He certainly could not have spied for me, once it was known he deliberately had fathered a child upon a Muggle-born witch." Dumbledore rose. "It is useless to speculate. What is done, is done. They meant well, I am certain." He glanced at the clock. "You have just enough time to run down to the Great Hall, take food from the table, and eat it on your way to class, I think."

Harry knew a dismissal when he heard one. "Good day, professor," he said, and he ran.


Harry he remembered he would need to start preparing his "squib drug" cover for tonight's absence, and did his best to act out the irritability of a withdrawal he had never experienced. To this end, he spent much of the day putting off Hermione, who wanted to talk to him about the problem of killing Voldemort, and being friendly to her and Ron for short periods, then snubbing them. He hoped Hermione did not link his behavior to the bubble potion, which had never caused any ill effects. By the time classes got out, Hermione had given up on him for the day, and left to study in the library. Ron accepted Harry's behavior with deliberate humility, but Harry could tell he was becoming increasingly irritated, and only tolerated it as penance. Forty minutes before the library closed and the students were supposed to be back in their houses, Harry declared that he needed to get a book. He picked up his bag and left Ron in the common room.

When he reached the ground floor of the castle, Harry ducked into an alcove, donned his invisibility cloak, and quietly headed for the dungeons. He reached Snape's rooms without incident, brewed some tea, and sat at the kitchen table to resume work on his Transfiguration essay.

He'd written nine inches to a required seven and was working on his conclusion before he heard the door open and close. There was a muttered word, too far away to identify, then a quick call of "Harry?"

"In here," Harry called back.

Snape swept into the doorway in a swirl of black. He stood there a moment, looking haughty and stern, then suddenly collapsed into a chair and leaned his head into his hands.

"Tea?" Harry asked.

"Please," Severus muttered.

"What was it?" Harry asked. "Three-headed dogs? Exploding potions? Your old crowd?"

"Worse," Severus growled. "Parents."

Harry laughed.

"Oh, you laugh," Severus said in a wounded tone. "You haven't spent the last two hours trying to explain to the Warringtons that while I might make an exception to my general policy had their precious heir managed an Exceeds Expectations in his Potions O.W.L.s, two Satisfactories is not sufficient to admit him to Advanced Potions to the detriment of other students. And if I won't lower my standards for him, the Head of Gryffindor House is certainly not going to do so for Transfiguration. And so on." He took the cup of tea that Harry put in front of him and warmed it with a spell. "Anyway, it's done, and I believe they are the last for this year."

He looked up and took a sip of the tea. "How has your week been?"

"Horrible," Harry answered. "Ron and Hermione were worse until Monday afternoon, when I went off with Malfoy, then suddenly they decided to apologize. They admitted they had traded information on me to him, but I think just because he'd threatened to blackmail them. Last night, I desperately wanted to follow you, so I stopped snubbing them and told them to keep me here. Then I dozed off while doing my homework, and the link opened, because I wasn't prepared, and I had to watch you, there--"

"You should not need to be prepared. If your response to seeing me had showed him anything--"

"He didn't become aware of me, I think. That's usually obvious. But yes, I've talked to Dumbledore, and he wants to give me additional lessons. I can do more with you too, if you'd like."

"Yes," Snape said emphatically. "We'll discuss it later. What did you see?"

Harry related the vision, trying to conceal his horror at his father's obeisance to Voldemort, while covering strategic matters with precision. He deliberately glossed over the more humiliating details of the exchange, but he could see Severus's face darken as his account continued past each elision. "He expressed distrust of you several times," Harry said awkwardly, "and you averred your loyalty."

"And?" Snape asked.

"It ended there. He looked at you, there was a great deal of pain, and I was on the floor of the common room with Ron, Hermione, and Dean holding me down."

"Ah. He hit me with Cruciatus, again, while using Legilimency. This, of course, causes some of the pain to rebound on him, but can create exploitable mental openings."

"Oh. So I got more backlash, I suppose."

"And what then?"

"Well, I'd told them to keep me from leaving, so there was no point in trying to find you. I did say I needed to be somewhere quieter, though, so we went to an empty room and I dispensed lots of bubble stuff, until even Hermione, who wouldn't touch any, was relaxed, just because everyone else was. After that, it was a pretty good evening, but now Hermione's really worried about me, again, and I can't dissuade her, because that's useful." He shrugged. "So you do need to go back Sunday."

"Yes. That will be from before dawn until well after dark."

"Does that worry you?"

"No, really. He's demanded that before." Severus hesitated. "The attack worries me more -- the attack, and that I have not heard more details on it. I do not even know which 'allies' are involved."

"Do the others?"

"Some, I believe. Not many." Dark eyes glittered as Severus looked up suddenly. "It is not all suspicion of me. The Dark Lord has been more close with his plans since Rookwood gave testimony, after his capture last spring."

"Shouldn't we try to do something?"

"Without knowing the nature of the attacks, it is difficult to say what. Dumbledore is arranging some level of protection for Hogsmeade. The Dark Lord's new preferred meeting place is on the outskirts of Hogsmeade, on some property recently purchased by one of Goyle's cousins. The positioning may indicate targets there."

Severus shifted, and pushed his empty cup away. "Is that essay due tomorrow?"

"Yes, but I'm on the concluding paragraph."

Severus stood. "Finish, then -- take your time -- and meet me in the sitting room when done." With that, he left, in another swirl of robes. Harry looked back at his paper and tried to remember what he had been thinking about quality transference.


When Harry went into the sitting room, Severus had undone the collar buttons on his formal robes, and was sitting in his usual chair and contemplating a still-full glass of dark red wine. Harry studied him for a moment.

"Elegantly melancholy," he announced, "in a sort of nineteenth-century way. Eighteenth, perhaps. I'm not too clear on these things."

"What?" Severus responded, choking back a laugh.

"You." Harry sat down at the near end of the couch, and tucked his feet up to the side. "I'm not sure about the wine though," he continued. "The absinthe would suit the look better, though opium would be best."

Severus did laugh, at that. "Should I ever want a drug to match my demeanor, I will be certain not to ask you."

Harry nodded cheerfully. "It's a rather Muggle interpretation, I expect. So," he asked, "what were you so pensive about?"

Severus shot him an intent look, then turned his attention back to his wine. "Professor Lupin," he said formally, "came to speak to me about you."

"Oh."

"It was rather odd. Only one active professor knows that I am your father, and he shows up in my office, demanding a word with me about my son." He looked askance at Harry's snigger. "He was surprisingly forceful."

"So what did he say? I interrupt and I know too much about Dark Arts?"

"I told him that his inability to keep discipline was not my concern. His primary worry seemed to be not your conduct in class, but your association with young Mr. Malfoy."

"Oh." Harry wondered how much Severus shared that concern.

"I dismissed the matter as his imagination. I was much displeased, this morning, to find you sitting next to him, talking."

"Why?" Harry asked. "You like Draco, don't you?"

"I do, but you should not trust him."

"I don't!" Harry protested. "I've been waiting for a chance to talk to you, so I could ask you what was up with him. He's been decent to me, mostly."

"If he's been 'decent' to you, then he's setting up some plan."

"Perhaps he's just lonely."

"Malfoys do not get 'lonely.'"

Harry's eyes narrowed. "Is the problem that he's Draco, or that he's a Malfoy?"

"The problem is that he is a vicious, manipulative, avid supporter of the Dark Lord! Make some attempt to think, boy!"

"I know all of that," Harry said coldly. "Though the last may be shifting. He seems -- and yes, I did hear 'manipulative' -- seems quite resentful that the Dark Lord has not rescued his father."

"How much time have you spent with him?"

"Not much. We talk before Potions, usually, and walking from there to Defense. The day we played with Occlumency, he caught me out by the pitch, and I took him over to Hagrid's to show him an adder I've been chatting with --"

Harry watched Severus lock his jaw and swallow, then clear his throat. He had the amused suspicion he'd nearly made the man spray his wine. "Excuse me," Severus gasped, and blew his nose.

"My point!" declared Harry triumphantly. Severus ignored him.

"Do you often chat with adders?"

"Now I do." Harry shifted to straighten his legs out and crossed his arms over his chest. "So I'm a parselmouth. Big deal."

"Well, yes, it is, actually. There hasn't been a parselmouth in my family in three hundred years." Snape thought for a moment. "Reputedly less on the Indian side, but we don't have accurate records of that."

"Aha! So I don't necessarily get it from Voldemort."

"But you do. If you got it from me, it would not have manifested until this year. And don't say his name!"

"Oh. Right." Harry shrugged. "Even so, it seems stupid to be ashamed of it. The normal snakes I've met have been okay."

"Normal?"

"As opposed to the basilisk and Nagini." Harry shrugged. "The snake Draco sent after me was narky, but who wouldn't be after being shot out of a wand, then dropped on their head by Lockhart?"

Severus snorted. "What else have you done with Draco?"

"That's about it. We had a talk this morning about Ron. He's going to tell me what Ron does when I'm not around --"

"And do you believe he will tell you the truth?" Severus asked bitingly.

"Not half. I borrowed Remus's Verifier. I'm as interested in what Draco tells me as in what Ron does."

Severus conceded with a nod. "Continue to talk to the boy, then, but continue to approach it sensibly. I'll ask him what he intends for you, as it is clear I have noticed your association."

"Rather. He was terribly indignant that you took points from Slytherin!" Harry thought for a moment. "Was yesterday's lesson really something used for poisoning?"

"Yes. Of course, it's also used to make medicines that don't taste bad."

"Why don't you, then?"

"In my circles," Severus said, making the phrase threatening, "it is considered impolite to mask the taste of a potion. If it could have something harmful hidden in it, the assumption is that it does."

"But the kids don't care!"

"Some do." Severus's black eyes glittered like hard coal. "None should be led to trust tasteless and odorless solutions."

Harry shivered. "So, what did you tell Professor Lupin?" he asked hastily.

Severus had to think about that for a minute. Harry saw his face tighten, but he could not map an emotion to the reaction.

"I didn't," he said finally. "We fought, and I ordered him out." He took a swallow of his wine, then stared at it moodily. "Do you think Lupin is changing?" he asked absently.

"He's quicker-tempered," Harry replied, after a moment's thought. "He seems tired even when it's not near the moon. I think it may be losing Sirius, again."

"He's become stronger, in a way," Severus mused. "He needs the anger to support it, but he stood up to me for longer than I expected." He took another sip of the wine. "You seem to bring this out in him, now. I don't know that I like that."

"He wants me to visit him weekly," Harry said tentatively.

"Visit?" Severus growled.

"He says he doesn't want to lose me." Harry grinned. "I think he's afraid of me falling into bad habits, from your influence, or Draco's. May I? I don't see him enough, privately, now that term's started."

"When?"

"Sunday, four to six?"

"Make it Saturday, this week. I want to be at the school whenever you are with him. And show up to dinner, or I will be attacking him with likely false accusations."

"Though you know it."

"I will believe all of them, if I do not see you."


Their conversation turned to lighter things: Brazilian snakes, Quidditch, and Weasleys on bubble potion -- and Harry relaxed. The fire-lit room was familiar and safe, and his father's occasional sly digs led to comfortable banter. When Severus quizzed Harry about his games with the Kerner Dark Detector, Harry was exacting in his account of the logistics of it and Draco's later analysis, but did not hesitate to include the impact of Draco's cool boldness and the exhilaration of interweaving his manipulations with Draco's in a strange dance of music. Severus was amused, and clearly pleased by his ability, but warned him to be more discreet.

"Which reminds me," Harry said, deflecting the matter, "that you said too much, yourself, a few weeks ago."

"What?"

"That jibe to Ron about Augustus Maitland? It set Hermione to investigating."

"I don't care if she knows who Augustus was. It is public information."

"But she's found all sorts of things about your class. She even found a picture of you and Remus, though she didn't recognize you. If she'd found a picture of you and my mum...."

Severus grasped the implications quickly. "That had not occurred to me."

"She found the stories about his death." Harry watched his father closely. Severus shuddered, but didn't say anything. Harry braced himself. "Why was he alone?"

"Because I was not with him." When Harry did not ask anything more, Severus elaborated. "It was not my choice. I had expressed some regrets to him about these targets, and either he decided to humor me, or he did not trust me. He lied to me about the time. When I apparated into our meeting point in the barn, the yard was already swarming with Aurors. I managed to get out, again. It wasn't until morning that I found out he had died."

Severus's voice was steady, but his hand trembled, sending ripples across the wine. He noticed and put it down, then clasped his hands together at his chest.

"If you had been there, would you have killed the other children?"

Severus bent his head forward, hiding much of his face behind a fall of dirty hair. "Yes," he whispered.

"Was there a game, like James heard?"

Severus shuddered. "Yes, but...." He took a shaky breath. "It was just winter holidays, my seventh year. Lucius started it. In retrospect, I believe it was a deliberate invention -- he wanted both of us more ruthless -- but at the time, it seemed a moment's whimsy. Augustus and I were discussing which of a couple was more dangerous, and he came in, all sly humor and grace, to say 'twenty points for him, twenty-five for her, and ten points bonus if you get both.' He ended the game when term started, graciously noting that would give him an unfair advantage. It never started up again."

"What was the final score?" Harry asked bitingly.

Severus raised his head and looked at Harry for the first time Harry had asked about Augustus's death. Harry was not sure how his own face looked, but considering his horror at the account, it could not have been good. Severus bared his teeth in a vicious sneer.

"I told you I was a killer," he spat. "Don't sit there and look surprised."

"I'm not, but ... a six-year-old?" Harry said plaintively. "In front of her family? What purpose does that serve?"

Severus looked down, again, resting his forehead on interlaced fingers, so that his face was completely hidden.

"They weren't real people, you know," he said, quickly and breathlessly, "real children." He hesitated. "Just half-bloods."

"Like me."

"Yes."

Severus's voice was flat. Harry watched him intently for a while, but he showed no sign of looking up. Cautiously, Harry stood, and took the two steps to the side of Severus's chair. The man still did not look up. From here, Harry could see that his eyes were scrunched closed behind his hands.

Carefully, he knelt beside the chair and rested his elbow on its arm.

"Father?"

In hesitant twitches, his father's fingers disentangled, and the far hand moved to clasp Harry's. Severus still kept most of his face covered with the other hand, and his eyes remained closed, but his fingers interwove with Harry's and grasped tight. Harry had to bite his lip to keep from gasping at the pressure, but he stayed still, though the hold hurt and the stone floor was hard under his knees, and returned the grip firmly.

He thought it was about ten minutes, though it could have been fewer -- or more -- before Severus spoke.

"It was harder, after you were born," he said. He had uncovered his face, now, but still did not look at Harry. "I had -- regretted it, already, but not in this close, personal way. I would look at Lily, holding you in her arms and cooing, and imagine being sent to kill her, and you. It wasn't just that you were what I couldn't have, as James thought; you were what I destroyed." His voice grew bitter and tight. "A Mudblood girl and her half-blood child -- shall we say ten points? Fifteen if she's got her wand."

Harry looked away. The hold on his hand tightened again.

"I'm sorry," Severus whispered. "But there's nothing I can do."

"Except going to meetings and abasing yourself and getting tortured and making them weapons and hoping what you find out balances out the harm you need to do?"

"Yes." His voice was still a whisper, despite Harry's challenging tone.

"How about staying here and making things for Dumbledore's old crowd, and listening to me and making sure I don't go too crazy, and not dying on me!"

"But if I die, it will be over," Severus said, his lips moving in the ghost of a smile. "At last."

"Not for me it won't. Please? I never got to know any of the others." The hysteria Harry had been fighting down since mentioning Maitland rose up at the thought of Sirius, of James, of his Mum, all dead. "I want you to still be here when I'm really grown up. I want to come and visit you. I want to bring you grandchildren and let you hold them." He looked desperately at Severus. "Please? I'll let you name one, if you live."

Severus disentangled his hand quickly, then stood up and turned away. "I have work I need to do," he said harshly. "You are welcome to stay here for a while longer. I should be back in an hour, perhaps two."

Before he finished speaking, he had reached the door to the hallway. It closed behind him with a heavy clack.


Harry realized he had been asleep. This wasn't too surprising, as he had dowsed all the lights but the fire and lain down on the couch, to surrender to sheer emotional exhaustion. The fire had burned down to embers, which now cast only the faintest shifting light. He lay still, trying to determine what had woken him. He wondered if Severus was still out, and if he could creep off to his bed, unseen. He pretended to still be asleep while he listened. It wasn't hard to feign sleep. He was nearly there.

He heard quiet steps approaching and pretended harder, hoping Severus would not wake him to make him leave. The footsteps stopped, and he heard the movement of heavy robes as a figure knelt beside him. He had a moment's panicked thought: what if it's someone else? but the newcomer had the changing mix of strange scents that clung to someone who had just been working on potions. Harry prepared to be woken.

A hand that smelt of cloves and dragon's blood, like acrid christmas cakes, brushed hair back from his brow. The next feeling was odd, and it took the following warmth of breath for Harry to realize that Severus had just kissed his forehead.

"My dear child," the man whispered hoarsely. "Lily's dear child." His voice lowered still further, until it was almost inaudibly light. "I love you," he breathed. His fingers brushed Harry's hair once more, and he stood and walked away.

Harry listened, now far from sleep, his heart beating as frantically as if he had just fought a duel, while his father crossed the room occasionally, in preparations for bed. Finally, Severus retreated to his bedroom. When all had been quiet for a bit, Harry got up, and went through the kitchen to his own bed. There, he slept again.

The End.


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