“Are you ready?”

This time, there was no doubt. Harry was more than ready, he was eager. He took Snape’s hand in his, intertwined his fingers, and held on tight.

Ginny touched her wand to the two hands and said the spell she’d said so many years ago. In moments, the red lights flashed and shuttered, hungrily grasping Harry and Snape, linking them together. Harry felt his heart flutter, felt its beat align with Snape’s, felt himself being pulled into Snape, and Snape into him. Harry didn’t let go. He didn’t know how wild the ride would be, but dammit he was going to pull this man back into the living if it was the last thing he did.

“Come on, dammit, wake up.”

The red globe of light strengthened, thickened, pulsed, and glowed. It was hot. It was uncomfortable. But Harry held on.

“Professor Snape, it’s Potter.”

Harry’s hand trembled in the link. He wondered if Snape’s body was trying to throw him off.

“I need you.”

Snape’s hand was on fire. He tried pulling away, but the force holding it was too strong. It felt like hot worms under his skin, trying to burrow their way out through his pores.

“I need a father.”

Snape thrashed under the assault on his senses. Magic vibrated in every cell of his body. A body he was only attached to by a thread. Someone was trying their damnest to pull him back. To tether him.

“I need you to need me.”

That voice. Those words. He’d heard them before. Days and weeks of them. Pleading. Angry. Guilty. Sarcastic. Funny. Cajoling. Chastising.

“I’m your son.”

Potter. He wanted to roll his eyes.

“Damn you, wake up!”

He groaned inwardly. Would the insufferable child never leave him in peace? Not a child anymore, he reminded himself. A grown man. With children of his own.

“I’m not leaving until you wake. Do you hear me? You’re stuck with me.”

“I’m awake already,” Snape said, “now will you stop trying to burn my hand off my arm?”

Potter looked up in such shock and bewilderment that Snape almost laughed. He watched as Ginny lifted her wand, ending the spell. The red light and heat vanished. Potter made to pull his hand away, but Snape held on, tightening his grip.

“Let me get this straight, Potter,” Snape said. “You want me, Severus Snape, to be your father? Why on earth would you want that?”

“I need a father,” Harry said simply.

“And I suppose that you think I need a son,” Snape replied.

“I can hope, can’t I?” Harry replied.

Snape snorted. “That is something you’ve never ceased to do.” Easing his grip on Potter’s hand, he murmured, “I heard everything you said, by the way. When I was… not quite all here.”

“Good,” Harry said, “I meant it. What I said. All of it.”

“Damn Gryffindor,” Snape muttered, letting go of Harry’s hand but not pushing the boy away. “And regarding what you said earlier, I owe you an apology... and a thank you." Snape cleared his throat. "And the answer is yes.”

“Yes?”

“Yes,” Snape replied.

The day after Snape was released from St. Mungo’s with a clean bill of health, Harry received an owl. He unfurled the rolled piece of parchment and read.

Dear Harry,

I thought you should know that I have come to think of you as a son, though I don’t know how to tell you.

I want you to understand how much I regret treating you poorly at Hogwarts; I of all people know how damaging and long lasting the consequences are of such actions and how strong childhood grudges can be.

I imagine you have wondered how the possibility of you being my son never crossed my mind. The answer is this. Any third year Hogwarts witch knows contraceptive spells, and your mother was a brilliant and incredibly gifted witch. We spent one night together after your mother had broken off her engagement to James. Shortly thereafter, they reconciled and were married. Why she didn’t use a contraceptive spell, I can not begin to imagine. Had I any inkling that you were my son I would have taken you in. I would have hid you from the Dark Lord. I would have given my life to protect you. I would have kept you safe.   

You deserved better than your mother’s short-sighted, jealous sister and her imbecile husband.

I am truly sorry that I could not help more with young Lily. She looked so much like your mother, and I failed her, just like I failed your mother. I thought that I had seen and felt everything after the war, but I was wrong.

Words can not describe my sadness for your loss, which surely is far worse than mine, as acute as mine is. I can only begin to imagine the loss of a child. It is a loss I feel now, knowing that I am leaving you, knowing that I never really gave you a chance. 

I wish I had the courage to tell you all of this.

This is the letter that I had started, but not finished, after everything happened with young Lily. Now you know.

Yours truly,

S. Snape

P.S. I accept your dinner invitation and will see you this evening at 7pm.