Harry was on a mission.

Wrapped in his new invisibility cloak, he made his way down from Gryffindor Tower.

Being careful to listen for any signs of either Filch or Mrs. Norris, he made his way to the library and entered it.

The Restricted Section was thus called because it contained all the 'forbidden' and 'highly dangerous' tomes...most of which had to do with Dark Magic and the like.

Harry knew this and was certain that one of the books just might contain the answer he and his friends had been seeking.

Unfortunately, if he got caught he was certain to get a detention at the least…if not worse.

Though I don’t think Grandpa Alby would expel me, Harry thought to himself.

He supposed that was one of the advantages of having your great-grandfather as your Headmaster…

On the other hand, having not only your great-grandfather but also you grandfather and your father at school with you could prove very annoying.

If he did something wrong, even if it wasn’t Professor Snape who caught him doing it, it was bound to get back to him and when that happened…

Harry shuddered. If the night of the ‘forbidden duel’ was any indication, his father did not take rule-breaking lightly.

Not like there’s anything new about that, he snorted to himself. He could lighten up a little bit, I think. 

Of course, he wasn’t about to tell him that. He wanted to live to see twelve, after all.

Getting to the library without incident, he made his way inside and headed immediately for the Restricted Section.

Taking out his wand, he cast Lumos so that he would have enough light to see but not enough to attract attention from anyone out in the corridor.

Scanning the row of books on the nearest shelf, he walked the length of it and back; thinking.

Which could possibly have information about Nicholas Flamel?

Why does that name sound so familiar? Harry thought to himself with a frown.

Ever since Hagrid had mentioned it, it had been nagging at him that he had heard that name somewhere before.

But where?

It was on the tip of his tongue, if only he could…

Reaching up, he grabbed a book and took it down and opened it. Unfortunately,  the moment he did it let out a loud…well…shriek!

This startled him so badly that he dropped it onto the floor with a loud thud! and jumped back, right into a table—causing several of the chairs to tip over and hit the floor with a bang! 

His heart hammering in his chest, Harry quickly rushed to pick up the chairs and put the annoying book—which was still shrieking, by the way—back where he had gotten it.

Only when it had been shut and put back in its place did the stupid tome quit its caterwauling.

Thank goodness, Harry thought with relief—which was, unfortunately, short lived, as he heard the distinctive sounds of booted footsteps approaching.

And every student in the school knew that sound.

Quickly dosing his wand, he put his hand back underneath the cloak so that he was completely invisible.

A few seconds later, the door to the library opened and Argus Filch—the school’s caretaker—entered with his feline familiar Mrs. Norris.

Holding up a lantern to get a good view of the room, he glanced down at his cat.

“Have a look about, my pet,” he crooned at her, smirking. “Is it that wanker Peeves causin’ mischievous again…or a naughty brat steppin’ out of bed and bounds, eh?”

Mrs. Norris gave a ‘meow’ in answer and then to do as she had been bade. Searching the library for any signs of an intruder, she stopped once she had reached where Harry stood.

In fact, she was staring right at him.

Harry bit his lip. Could she see him? He’d always heard cats had excellent night vision but could they see something that was technically invisible.

 Invisible to human eyes, Harry reminded himself. Ron and his brothers didn’t mention whether animals could still see me or not… 

Mrs. Norris moved past him a second later, going over to where he had stood a few moments before. She let out another ‘meow’.

“Find something, my pet,” Filch crooned at her, coming over and holding up his lantern. “Well, well…what have we hear?”

He was glancing down at the floor, and Harry followed his gaze—letting out a silent groan to himself.

Where he’d walked back and forth along the book shelf there were distinctive foot prints—apparently, the librarian had not swept that particular section in a some time.

Filch smiled as if it were suddenly his birthday. “Come, dearest,” he said to his cat, smirking wickedly. “Let’s go tell Professor Snape a student is out of bed! I can’t wait til he catches them. Maybe Professor Dumbledore will let me use some of the old punishments, eh?”

With that, the wicked caretaker and his disgustingly loyal familiar exited the library.

Harry felt his heart beat even faster in his chest.

He’s going straight to my father, he thought with sudden horror. He’ll know it was me! I just know it!  

At that point, Harry was ready to simply let his feet do his thinking for him. He quickly exited the library and dashed back toward Gryffindor tower.

Unfortunately, in his rush, he nearly collided with two individuals as he rounded a corner.

One of them was Professor Quirrel and the other was…his father!

Snape had the DADA professor pressed against the wall, his wand at his throat.

Harry, who had managed to skid to a halt without bumping into either man, frowned. Why was his father—?

“You’d best rethink where your loyalties lie, Quirrel,” the Potions Master growled at the quivering Defense teacher.

“I-I-I d-d-don’t k-k-know w-w-what y-y-you’r t-t-talking a-a-about, S-S-Sev’rus,” the turbaned man stuttered.

Snape narrowed his eyes at him. “Don’t you?” he growled, ominiously. “I know it was you that was hexing Potter’s broomstick!”

Harry’s eyes widened at that. Professor Quirrel had hexed his broom! But, why?

Quirrel shook his head, violently. “Y-Y-You’re m-m-mistaken,” he stuttered, frantically. “W-W-Why w-w-would I w-w-want t-t-to h-h-hurt T-T-The-B-B-Boy-W-W-Who-L-L-Lived?!”

Snape snorted. Harry knew he hated that title as much as he [Harry] did.

“I’m not sure,” the Potions Master sneered. “You tell me?”

The look he was giving the quivering mess of a man was one of pure venom—if looks could kill Quirrel would certainly be on the floor dead.

Harry didn’t realize it, but he had been holding his breath.

Suddenly feeling his lungs constrict painfully, in need of air, he had no choice but to release it.

“This is your last warning,” Snape growled at Quirrel. “Stop whatever you are plotting and leave—”

The Potions Master froze in mid-sentence, turning to stare directly where Harry was standing.

Harry felt his heart stop. Did he know he was here? Could he somehow…sense…him?

Keeping one hand on the Defense teacher to keep him pinned to the wall, Snape reached out with one long hand toward where Harry stood.

Biting his lip, Harry took an involuntary step backward—evading the hand by millimeters.

Snape frowned, as his hand closed on empty air—a look of puzzlement on his face.

Just then, Filch appeared with Mrs. Norris from the opposite end of the corridor.

“Professor Snape, Sir,” the caretaker wheezed, as if he’d been running a great deal. “There’s a student out of bounds—out of bed—roaming the castle!”

Snape narrowed his eyes. “Who?” he growled, annoyed.

Filch shook his head. “Not sure, but somebody’s been in the Restricted Section of the library,” he told him, smirking wickedly.

Snape nodded, giving Quirrel a pointed look.

“This is far from over, Quirrel,” he growled. “C’mon, Filch, there’s not a moment to lose!”

With that, the two men and Mrs. Norris dashed back down the corridor in search of the ‘wayward’ student, leaving Harry alone with the still quivering Defense professor.

Quirrel watched them leave, following them with wide frightened eyes, but the moment they were out of sight the quivering stopped and a sneer found its way upon the man’s pale face.

Harry gaped, open mouth, as he watched his usually docile professor raise himself to his full height and glare in the direction.

“My ‘last warning’, is it?” Quirrel growled, his fists clenching, without any hint of his stutter whatsoever. “We shall soon see who’s ‘last’ it truly is, Severus. Oh yes, we will…”

With a strange glance to what must have looked like nothing but empty air to him—the exact spot Harry was standing and Snape had reached for—he sniffed, straightened his robes and turban, and then sauntered menacingly down the corridor.

Harry swallowed. That was not the same man who had fainted into a dead heap on Halloween!

And why does he make my scar hurt? Harry wondered silently.

Every time he was in the man’s class, his scar tingled. And just now, as he clenched his fists, it had burned considerably. Almost—

Like it had that night in the Forbidden Forest when he and Draco were attacked by whatever it was that killed the unicorn!

Harry gasped, shocked. That’s exactly what the burning sensation reminded him of!

This was definitely a disturbing development, but it would explain how Quirrel was the only to know of the troll—he probably let it in—and why his broom stopped bucking wildly when his father’s robes caught on fire.

He knocked Quirrel over when he jumped up to put out the fire, Harry remembered. I wonder if he did it on purpose, since he knew it was him that was hexing my broom… 

Just then, light reappeared at the end of the corridor along with the sound of approaching feet.

Harry panicked, forgetting momentarily that he was invisible due to his heart hammering in his ears, and he quickly ducked into the nearest room.

Once the door was closed behind him, he quickly removed his cloak and slumped down—breathing hard.

Leaning against the door, he tilted his head to listen. Unfortunately, he heard nothing.

He glanced down at the crack between the bottom of the door and the floor, but saw no lamplight.

He realized then that despite not having his wand lit, he could see fairly well and glanced around the room.

It was all but empty, except for a large guilted mirror standing in the center of it, and hight over head were three large windows with the full moon shining brightly down through them.

Well, Harry thought as he stood up and let his cloak sink to the floor. That explains why I’m not totally in the dark.  

Making his way over to the mirror, he stopped in front of it and examined it.

It was very old, obviously ancient, with intricate carvings around the frame and the word ‘Erised’ written in an archaic script along the arch directly above the glass.

“Erised,” Harry muttered, frowning. He’d never heard that word before. Was it Latin?

“Sounds Latin,” he told himself, shrugging. “Wonder why its in here all by itself?”

He gazed into the mirror’s glass, and of course only saw his own reflection—at first.

His eyes widened as in the mirror two people appeared standing beside him. He glanced behind him, but saw no one.

Unfortunately, they were very much there in the mirror. One he recognized immediately as his mother.

“Mum,” he said, smiling. “And…James.” For the man beside her could only be the man everyone believed to be his father with his unruly dark hair, glasses, and hazel eyes.

They both smiled at him, but then the image of James blurred and when it cleared he was gone.

In his place was now Professor Snape…and he was actually smiling!

“Weird,” Harry thought, shaking his head. In the mirror, his mother and father both reached out and touched his shoulders.

Suddenly more people appeared in the mirror, standing behind his parents. Behind his mum was a man with red hair and blue eyes and standing beside him was a blonde woman with emerald green eyes.

These were Lily’s parents, his maternal grandparents, Hal and Rose Evans. He recognized them from the album Snape had given him.

Behind his father stood Grandpa Toby and a tall woman with a pale complexion, long silky black hair, and obsidian eyes.

“Grandma,” Harry said, smiling at Eileen Snape (nee Prince).

Suddenly, behind his parents and his grandparents appeared Professor Dumbledore, and again Harry did a double take to see if he was actually there. He wasn’t.

“This mirror is funny,” Harry said, smiling. “It’s showing me my family…but why?”

Because you’ve never had one before, he told himself silently.

Instinctively, he somehow knew this mirror was showing him what he desired most.

“Desire,” Harry realized, glancing up at the archaic script again. “‘Erised’ is desire spelled backwards!”

He smiled, glancing at the people in the mirror—who were all beaming at him. He smiled back.

“Ron will flip when I show him this,” he said, excitedly. He rushed back to grab his cloak, and raced out of the chamber…

…Only to collide head first into something.

Falling onto his backside, he glanced up. His eyes widened in shock and dismay.

Looming over him, the sternest look he’d ever seen on his face before, was none other than Professor Severus Snape.

Harry paled.

Uh-oh... 

HPHPHPHP

Severus stood looming over his son, glaring down at him sternly. Bending down, he reached under his arms and lifted him to his feet.

His eyes caught sight of something silvery on the floor, and he reached to pick it up. He recognized it instantly.

“So,” he said, raising an eyebrow at Harry. “This is the mysterious gift Albus gave you. I should have known…”

Shaking his head in disgust, making a mental note to have a private chat with his grandfather in the morning, he turned a stern gaze upon his errant son.

“You had best have a damn good reason for being out of bounds,” he growled at him. “And out of bed!”

“Um…” Harry said, biting his lip. “What counts as a very good reason, Sir?”

Severus narrowed his eyes. “Something that has to do with life and death,” he told him, firmly.

“Oh,” Harry said, glancing down. “Then, no. I don’t.”

“I see,” Severus said, his nostrils flaring. “Come.” He turned, the invisibility cloak still clutched into his hand, and then turned to start back down the corridor.

“W-Where are we going, Sir?” Harry asked him, hesitantly.

“To my quarters,” he told him, stiffly. “We need to have a little…talk.”

He did not fail to see the wince that crossed his son’s anxious face.

Foolish brat, he thought with a snort. What’s it going to take to keep your feet firmly planted where they are supposed to be?

He led the way to his quarters, ushering the boy inside without a word, took off his robes, hung them up, and then crossed over to sit in his chair beside the fire.

He glanced at the cloak in his hands, wrinkling his nose at it, and then gazed sternly at his son.

“Explain yourself,” he ordered, sternly.

“W-What do you mean?” Harry asked him, hesitantly. “Sir?”

“I mean, you are obviously not sleep-walking,” Severus informed him, dryly. “Therefore, you are willingly up out of bed, wandering around the castle. Was this just a test run, with the cloak? Were you trying to sneak into the kitchens for a midnight snack…or somewhere else?”

He narrowed his eyes, causing Harry to glance at the ground. Reaching out, Severus lifted his chin.

“Mr. Filch reported someone was roaming in the library tonight, in the Restricted Section,” he told him, evenly. “Was that you?”

Harry bit his lip, and he could see the indecision within those large emerald orbs. To lie? Or not to lie?

For your sake, Harry, he thought with a fierce frown, you had best choose option B. 

Harry sighed. “Yes, Sir,” he answered him, quietly. “It was me.”

Severus nostrils flared, despite the momentary pang of fatherly pride that swelled in him that the boy had been honest with him.

“And why, may I ask?” he growled at him, angrily. “What possible reason could you have for being there?”

Harry shrugged, not looking him in the eye anymore. “Just curious,” he muttered, sullenly. “Madame Pince won’t let us look at the books in that section!”

“And with a very good reason!” Severus hissed, yanking his chin up roughly. “Some of those tomes are dangerous, boy! Deadly dangerous, do you understand me?!”

He gave him a slight shake, in frustration. Harry’s eyes were as wide as saucers. “I’m sorry,” he blurted out. “I didn’t know!”

“And that excuses it, does it?” Severus asked him, sternly.

Harry shook his head. “No,” he said, quietly. “I guess not.”

“I know so,” Severus told him, firmly. “And we shall deal with your breaking school rules in a moment. Right now, though, we will discuss this!” He held up the cloak.

“It was my Christmas gift from Grandpa Alby!” Harry said, quickly. “He told me use it well…and wisely.”

Severus snorted. Leave it to his grandfather to deliver such a humongous temptation into the hands of an eleven year old child and leave him nothing but a bloody cryptic message as instructions!

Albus and I are having a very serious discussion first thing tomorrow morning, he thought to himself.

“And have you done that, Harry?” he asked him, curiously. “Used it well…or wisely?”

“Um…well,” Harry said, frowning. “What else am I supposed to use it for!?”

“Not breaking the rules, that’s for sure,” Severus growled at him. “Do you know what the original purpose of this type of cloak was used for?”

“No,” Harry answered him, honestly.

“It and the handful of its kind that remain today,” Severus told him, evenly, “we’re created back before shielding and invisibility charms that worked on people were created. It was used as means of getting out of danger, of escaping from a dangerous mob of people intent on burning a witch or wizard at the stake. It was never meant to be used as a child’s plaything!”

Harry huffed at that. “Grandpa Alby said it belonged to James,” he told him, sullenly. “What did he use it for?”

“Much the same as you did tonight,” Severus told him, wrinkling his nose. “To break curfew and roam the castle. His father apparently did the same. I swear, what the adult Potters were thinking I will never know! Or my dottering grandfather, as well! But this is it. The cycle stops here and now. I will be keeping this—”

“You can’t!” Harry cried, dismayed. “It was a Christmas gift—to me! It’s mine!”

“And I am not contesting that,” Severus told him, firmly. “It is yours, along with the vault at Gringotts, by right of the fact that you are James Potter’s legal heir. However, you are not of legal age yet and as such your mother and I are the caretakers of said inheritance. You are too young and irresponsible right now to use this properly, as you’ve more than abundantly proven tonight, and therefore shall not get it back ‘til I am certain you are.”

“That’s not fair!” Harry told him, angrily.

“I’m sorry you feel that way,” Severus told him, quietly. “My decision stand, however.”

Harry glared at him. He glared back. The boy was the one to look away first.

Severus smirked. Stubborn to the bone, he thought to himself. Yes, son, you are most definitely a Snape! 

“Now then,” he said a moment later, “about your little stroll through the castle tonight…”

“It’s the holidays,” Harry said, suddenly. “You can’t take points!”

“Very true, and I had not intention of doing so,” Severus told him, sternly. “You could easily have been harmed this night, Harry, I hope you realize that.”

Harry frowned. “What do you mean?” he asked him, curiously. “That book just screamed at me…”

“Then you are very lucky,” Severus told him, firmly. “Had that been another kind of book, it could have sucked you inside it and trapped you forever within its pages!”

Harry gasped. “There are really books like that in there?” he asked, stunned. “Why?”

“Because,” Severus told him, “this castle is very old and many of the tomes in that section date back before the ministry was created and laws imposed on certain types of magical research. Since those books cannot be destroyed by either magical or muggle means, it was felt that Hogwarts was the safest place for them. That is why whenever the upper-level students need research from there that they go request what they need from Madame Pince—for she is the only one authorized to retrieve the books…as she is the one trained to know which books are dangerous and not.”

“Oh,” Harry said, quietly.

Severus snorted. “Oh, indeed,” he growled. “Furthermore, young man, wandering the corridors of this castle after curfew is dangerous in and of itself! There are rooms that appear and disappear all the time! Some of them do not reappear again for fifty years or more! Now tell me, what would have happened if you had wandering into one of those? Hmm?”

Harry paled. “I, I didn’t know,” he said. “I mean, I didn’t think—”

“That is abundantly clear!” Severus growled at him, angrily. “You could have been lost forever, no one knowing where you were, or how to find you—not even Professor Dumbledore! Do you know what that would do to your mother, Harry? Your friends? Your grandfather? Me?!”

Harry shook his head. “No, Sir,” he answered him, quietly.

“Well, I do,” Severus told him. “It would devastate us!”

Harry glanced at him full in the face, tears in his eyes. “I’m sorry,” he said, quietly.

Severus’ nostrils flared. “Sometimes,” he told him, evenly. “Saying ‘sorry’ simply isn’t enough!”

With that, his hand shot out and grabbed the boy by the wrist, pulling him to him.

With one swift tug, he had the boy over his lap and his wriggling bottom sticking up in the air.

“I will not stand for it, Harry,” he growled, bringing his hand back. “This reckless, utterly unnecessary habit of yours to put yourself in harm’s way is going to stop! Or I will tan your backside ‘til it does!”

With that, he brought his hand down with a resounding smack! Across the trouser clad rear end.

Several more smacks! reigned down in rapid succession—eliciting yelps from his son.

Just as before, by the tenth smack Harry was sniffling. By the fifteenth, he was crying softly. And by the twentieth, he was bawling openly.

Lifting the boy off his lap, he held him by the shoulders and stared him in the eye.

“It will stop,” he told him, firmly. “Do we understand each other?”

Reaching back to rub his stinging behind with one hand and wipe at his tear stained face with another, Harry nodded.

“A verbal answer, if you please,” Severus told him, firmly.

“Y-Yes, Sir,” the boy said, quietly. “I understand…Dad.”

Severus blinked at him a moment, not certain he had heard right. “Dad?” he asked him, curiously.

Harry swallowed, glancing up at him hesitantly. “Is that okay? That I call you that, I mean.”

“Is that okay?” Severus asked, smirking. “C’mere, you…”

With that, he lifted the boy onto his lap again—this time, however, he was sitting on it. He pointedly ignored the wince, as well as the slight whimper, that escaped as the boy’s sore bottom made contact.

He smirked. Serves you right, Fledgling, he thought. You have got to quit scaring me like this… 

Wrapping his arms around him, he pulled him against his chest and held him tightly.

“It is more than okay, son,” he told him, gently. “I was hoping you’d eventually feel comfortable enough with me to call me that, but…I did not wish to rush you. I know discovering I am your father has taken some getting used to.”

“Got that right,” Harry said, cheekily, “but I don’t mind so much now. I wasn’t sure, you know, if you’d mind or not. I mean, Grandpa Toby and Grandpa Alby told me what to call them, but you never did…”

“As I said, I did not want to push you if you were not ready,” Severus told him, gently. “I wasn’t expecting it so soon, actually. Any particular reason you’ve decided now is the right time?”

Harry shrugged. “I don’t know,” he told him. “I’ve been kinda thinking about it for awhile, I guess, I just wasn’t sure how I felt about you being my dad.”

“And are you sure now?” Severus asked him, curiously.

Harry nodded. “I saw something tonight that made me realize I like having you for a dad,” he told him, quietly.

“And, pray tell, was that?” Severus asked him, curiously.

“Well, that room you caught me coming out of,” Harry told him. “It had this mirror in it.”

“Mirror?” he asked, narrowing his eyes. “Gilted? With the word ‘Erised’ on it, perhaps?”

“How’d you know?” Harry asked, curiously.

Severus sighed. “Because you are not the first to find it,” he told him, snorting. “It generally gets moved every year or so.”

“Why?” Harry asked, curiously.

“Because it does not show you anything truly real, Harry,” Severus told him. “Merely what you wish to see…”

“But it showed me you and Mum,” Harry protested, questioningly. “And my granparents and even Grandpa Alby!”

“Was that your ‘desire’, then?” Severus asked him. “To see your family.”

“To have a family,” Harry told him. “At first, I saw Mum and James…but then it was you, instead. You were both smiling at me and I realized…I’d gotten my wish.”

“As I have gotten mine,” Severus told him, ruffling his hair. “You and your mother are my life now, Harry. I have been alone for eleven years now, and I do not ever wish to be so again. That is why I insist you be more careful and stop putting yourself into danger. I do not think I could bear if I were to lose you or your mother again…”

“I don’t want to lose you, either,” Harry told him. “That’s why I realized…I love you.”

Severus swallowed. Though he had told the boy how he felt, his son had yet to say those words to him…until now.

He felt moisture on his eyes, and quickly reached up to wipe them away. Must have gotten something in it… 

“I love you, too, son,” Severus told him, standing up. “Now, though, I think its time for bed.”

“Are you going to send me back to Gryffindor Tower like you did before?” Harry asked him, curiously.

“No,” Severus told him. “You will be remaining here.” Getting out his wand, he transfigured his son’s clothes into pajamas.

“But,” Harry frowned, “what am I gonna tell Ron?”

“Tell him the truth,” Severus told him, guiding him toward the guest room. “That you got caught, were punished, and I forced you to remain in my quarters for the night since it was so late.”

Harry sighed. “No wonder he thinks you’re trying to kill me,” he huffed, sourly.

“Indeed,” Severus smirked. “By the way, you shall be serving a week’s worth of detention with me once term starts up again…”

“Ah,” Harry started to complain, but he held up a hand to forestall him.

“Spare me,” Severus told him, smirking. “If you do not wish to do the time…”

“Don’t do the crime,” Harry muttered, sighing. “I know. I know.”

“Now you sound just like your cousin,” Severu chuckled, opening the door to the guest room.

Draco was sleeping soundly still. Thank goodness for that, he thought. One hoodlum out of bed is quite enough! 

Flicking his wand, he cast a duplicating spell and a matching bed appeared on the other side of the room.

Harry wrinkled his nose.

“What?” he asked him, curiously.

“Green and silver?” Harry said, nodding at the comforter that was on the bed.

Severus sighed. “Gryffindors,” he muttered, shaking his head. “Honestly!”

Flicking his wand, he changed the colors to crimson and gold. “Satisfied?”

Harry nodded, going and climbing into bed. Severus followed him in, pulling the covers over him once he was in bed snugly.

“The washroom is right across the hall,” he reminded him, removing his glasses and setting them on the nightstand. “As am I, but I trust you shouldn’t need me anymore tonight.”

Harry nodded. “Yes, sir,” he said, smiling. “Goodnight…Dad.”

“Goodnight, son,” Severus said, his lips twitching.

He stood, and the bent forward to place a feather-light kiss upon his son’s forehead. “Pleasant dreams, Fledgling.”

With that, he exited the room and shut the door behind him. Out in the hallway, he could not help but break into a full-fledged smile.

Who’d have thought one simple word could elicit such a response, he thought to himself as he made his way back to the sitting room.

He had a feeling it would be a long time before the word ‘Dad’ lost its appeal.

A very long time, indeed.

SSSSSSSS

“So, he finally called you ‘Dad’,” Lily said, smiling happily at Severus.

They were walking, side by side and arm in arm, in the hospital gardens.

It was the last day of the holidays, and the second term began tomorrow so this would be there last chance for a long visit for a little while.

Harry and Tobias walked ahead of them, the older man pointing out some of the non-magical flowers he recognized while Harry pointed out the magical ones.

“Yes,” he answered her, smiling.

“Oh, Sev,” Lily chuckled. “I’m so happy for you!”

“It’s the most extraordinary feeling, love,” Severus told her. “Do you feel it when he calls you ‘Mum’.”

“Yes,” Lily told him, gently. “Every single time…”

That was the truth. She had missed out on getting to hear him call her ‘Mummy’ when he was little so whenever he called out to her it never failed to bring a smile to her face.

Severus chuckled at that. “We are perhaps the sappiest parents on earth,” he said, good naturedly “Aren’t we?”

Lily laughed along with him. “Yes, I suppose we are,” she told him, “but would you have it any other way?”

“Now that you mention it,” he told her, grinning from ear to ear. “No, I wouldn’t.”

“Me, either,” Lily told him.

“Hey, Mum, Dad,” Harry stopped in his tracks and turned around to look at them. “Can I ask you something?”

“What?” Lily and Severus answered at the same time, both wearing identical smiles on their faces.

Oh yes, love, Lily thought happily, as their son pointed out a magical plant he did not recognize. We might be saps—but we’re damn proud of it!