Friday 8th January

Severus Snape’s concern for his six year old son was growing. He wasn’t sure what was going on with the child.

It wasn’t the first time, of course. It had been a tough couple of months, and Harry was certainly growing up fast. But this was different.

And it had all started with a Christmas present.

Sitting in the chair by the fire, Severus cast his mind back to the Christmas he had just spent with his adopted son.

It had been a pleasant day, and Harry had received a great many gifts. Amongst those from Severus, a Junior Wizard’s Chess set, a Starshine Starter Broom and a set of wizarding children’s story books, because Harry loved to read with him before bed.

But this Christmas, Severus had wanted to give Harry something extra special.

The questions had started not long prior, and it was only natural that the boy wanted to know where he had come from.

So with the help of the some of the other staff at Hogwarts who had been close with James and Lily Potter, Severus had gifted Harry a large photo album, full of pictures. Most of them were taken within the first year of Harry’s life – memories of him with his parents that the child had likely never seen before.

There were some of James and Lily when they were younger too, and even one of himself with Lily, just before they had started school. Harry was quite taken with that one.

But then, his son had gone quiet. Too quiet.

Harry had spent the majority of time within the period between Christmas and New Year in his bedroom, looking at that album – examining the photos closely.  He hadn’t asked any further questions, however, and had been quieter than usual during their time spent together.

Harry didn’t want to play with his chess set or practice on his new broom. He seemed subdued, and Severus couldn’t help feeling there was something troubling the boy.

As January had come around, Harry’s strange behaviour didn’t cease.  

Term wasn’t due to start until the following week, but Severus had a great deal to prepare before it did.  Deciding the boy would probably benefit from some fresh air and a change of scene, he suggested Harry spend that Friday with Hagrid.  

But unusually, Harry had refused.

In fact, he was quite insistent that he wanted to spend the day with Minerva. An unlikely choice, given that Harry often complained of boredom whenever he was required to spend an extended period of time with one of the other professors.

All the same,  Severus had permitted it, and Harry had spent most of Friday with the Gryffindor head of house, returning just before dinner, which he had eaten in silence.

Standing up from his chair, the potions master moved down the corridor of his quarters, knocking gently on the door of Harry’s bedroom.

 “Harry?”

A mumbled reply from the other side.

 “May I come in?” Severus asked.

 “No, don’t come in!” Harry called.

 “Why not?” he countered – he did not like it when his son became secretive in this way.

 “I’m busy!” was the response.

Busy looking at that album again, no doubt.

 Severus took a moment to compose himself before he spoke again. After all, the headmaster was always reminding him that getting angry with the child only made everything ten times worse.

 “If you wish to read a story before bedtime, I suggest you pick one shortly,” he said, trying to sound calm.

 “It’s okay,” Harry replied. “I don’t need a story tonight, Daddy.”

Severus arched an eyebrow.

 “Very well. But if you should change your mind within the next 10 minutes, I shall be in our usual spot.”

With that, he started back towards the lounge.

Something must certainly be wrong if Harry didn’t want a story before bed. Harry always wanted a story before bed.

And then it dawned on him.

Stopping in his tracks, Severus glanced back in the direction of his son’s bedroom.

He had given Harry that photo album and ever since, the boy had been pensive – withdrawn, even.

Harry had spent hours staring at those pictures. And today, he had opted to spend the day with Minerva McGonagall, the Gryffindor head of house – the teacher who had perhaps been closest with James and Lily during their school years.

Suddenly, it all made sense.

Letting Harry see those photographs had made the boy realise what he was missing out on. It had allowed him a glimpse into his former life, into the wonderful life he could have had were his parents not killed.

The life, Severus realised, that the boy evidently wanted so desperately, instead of the one he had been given instead.

The one here with him.

oOoOoOo

Saturday 9th January

Severus Snape had not slept well.

He had been up most of the night, mulling over his dark thoughts – the ones which told him that his six year old son had decided he didn’t belong there with him and was thoroughly unhappy about it.

When sleep finally did come, it was uneasy, and Severus wasn’t surprised to find himself awake again before the first light of dawn.

He had spent the best part of two hours sitting at the kitchen table in solitude, nursing a (now) cold cup of coffee.

Finally tired of his own thoughts, he pushed the cup away and pinched the bridge of his nose. He would need to talk to the boy about this today.

Today.

Today, the 9th January.

Today was just like any other day – that was how he had always liked it to be.

Except, he didn’t feel much like eating in the Great Hall this morning, and decided it would be better if they ate breakfast in his quarters.

He was just about to summon one of the kitchen elves when a small face appeared in the doorway.

 “Good morning,” Severus said, hoping he didn’t look as tired as he felt.

Harry murmured a response, lingering in the doorway.

 “Have a seat. We will eat here this morning,” his father said, gesturing to the chair beside him.

 “How come?” the boy asked.

 “Simply because I feel like it,” Severus told him, evenly. “Is there any particular reason you are lurking in the doorway like an impertinent house elf? Come and sit–”

The potions master stopped mid-sentence, noticing that the boy was clutching something in his hands.

 “What have you got there?” he asked. It came out a little more suspiciously than he had meant it to.

Taking a deep breath, Harry entered the room.

The item in his hands was square in shape. It had been wrapped rather badly in brown paper and adorned with a questionable bow.

Clumsily, Harry placed it down on the table.

Severus arched an enquiring eyebrow.  

 “It’s for you,” Harry told him, somewhat shyly. “You can open it now, if you like.”

Curiosity getting the better of him, Severus picked up the item and carefully unwrapped the brown paper.

Inside was a leather-bound album, not dissimilar to the one that he had gifted to Harry himself, though this one was a little more worn and appeared to have been used before.

Harry waited expectantly as his father placed the album down on the table and opened it.

For a moment, Severus wondered whether his son was gifting the pictures back to him – perhaps the boy’s way of accepting that he was stuck with him, in this life, whether he liked it or not.

Yet to his surprise, he was met with a rather different collection of pictures.

On the first page, a photograph of the two of them, taken not long after Harry had come to live with him.

There were other photographs within the album, too – the first Christmas Harry had spent with him, the first time Harry had sat with his father in the stands to watch a Gryffindor-Slytherin Quidditch match, the two of them at the ministry, the day Harry’s adoption had been finalised…

Curiously, interspersed between these photographs were pages containing illustrations done by Harry himself and animated, no doubt, by one of the professors.

The illustrations contained captions beneath them:

 ‘Harry helping Daddy make his potion’

‘Daddy teaching Harry how to use the Floo’

Severus glanced at his son.

 “I didn’t have photographs of everything,” Harry said softly, as if sensing his father’s confusion. “So I drew them instead.”

Severus turned to the next page of the album before he spoke again.

 “Harry… you made this?”

The boy nodded, moving to stand beside him.

 “Aunt Minnie helped a bit. I really liked the album you gave me for Christmas, Daddy. But… I was thinking…” he began, before pausing to tug on Severus’ sleeve expectantly.

Taking the hint, the potions master put his hands under Harry’s arms and brought the boy up to sit in his lap.

 “Go on.”

 “It’s good to have all these pictures of my Mummy and my other Daddy. But, you’re my Daddy now,” the boy said. “And we didn’t have an album like that, just for us.”

Severus swallowed hard, turning to the next page – another illustration.

‘Daddy reading Harry a bedtime story’

He swallowed again, glancing down at the little boy in his lap, who was seemingly oblivious to everything that had gone before.

He had misjudged this situation. Drastically.

 “Do you like it?” Harry asked in a small voice, hopeful.

 “I… like it very much. Thank you, Harry,” Severus told him sincerely, turning the page again.

To Severus’ surprise, the next page, and all those thereafter were blank.  

Noticing that he was only about halfway through the album, he looked at his son again, questioningly.

 “Did you run out of ideas?” he suggested.

Harry smiled, looking up at his father as if he had made the most ridiculous statement the six year old had ever heard.

 “Don’t be silly, Daddy. I left these pages blank on purpose,” he said.

 “Why so?” Severus asked.

 “So we can add more pictures to it,” Harry told him. “All of the things we’ll do in the future. Do you think that was a good idea?”

Ignoring the lump that was starting to form in his throat, Severus nodded his head slowly.

 “Yes, Harry, I think that was a very good idea,” he said, softly.

Offering him a lop-sided smile, Harry turned and settled his head against his father’s chest.

 “Happy birthday Daddy,” he whispered.

And for once, Severus surmised, it just might be.

oOoOoOo

Just a little story I threw together in honour of our favourite Potion Master’s birthday today! Hope you enjoyed it!