"Harry! Harry!"

Harry finally noticed the head poking from the fireplace, Mrs. Weasley calling him insistently. 

"Mrs. Weasley! What are you doing here?" Then realising how that sounded, Harry blushed. "Er… I meant to say —"

"Not to worry, my dear." Mrs. Weasley chuckled. "I understand you're a bit distracted."

Reminded again of Severus' death, Harry's face fell. Mrs. Weasley looked at him gently. 

"Come tonight for dinner, Harry," she said softly. "It will do you good to get your mind off things."

Harry knew Mrs. Weasley wouldn't take no for an answer, so he just nodded.

Mrs. Weasley smiled. "I'm glad. Take care of yourself."

With a woosh, her head disappeared. Harry did not move for a few moments, lost in thought. 

His contemplative silence had been broken, however, and he couldn't remain still for long. Sighing, he stood up and pointed his wand at the fireplace, smothering the flames.

Fetching his coat and hat from the hook, Harry opened the front door and stepped out on the doorstep of No. 12, Grimmauld Place. With a twist and crack, the street disappeared. 

Harry had not meant to apparate on this spot precisely, but it saved him from having to walk.

Directly in front of him stood a stone slab. Harry read the carved words again: 

Here lies Severus Tobias Snape: respected veteran, teacher, and beloved father.

(1960 – 2004)

Semper fidelis.

It still seemed unreal to him. Every moment Harry expected Severus to stalk through the door, robes billowing. Whenever Harry did something Severus wouldn't have approved of, he had to remind himself to relax — that Severus wouldn't magically appear and send a stinging hex.

Before Harry knew it, the words had blurred in front of his eyes. His nose and hands burned from the cold, and Harry pulled his cloak tighter around him. From far away, he could hear a voice he'd never hear again.

"You dunderheaded fool!"

"Hey," Harry protested. "I'm not a fool!"

"Really?" Severus replied dryly. "Only a fool would go out in this weather without a cloak."

As Severus spoke, he put the kettle on with a wave of his wand, and another had a cloak floating toward him. Pushing Harry into a chair, he put the cloak on him and set about tucking the ends, Harry protesting all the while.

He stopped only when the kettle whistled, and Harry breathed a sigh of relief, rolling his eyes only to yelp as a stinging hex hit his face — the only part of his body uncovered.

"Severus," Harry said in exasperation. "I'm eighteen, I can take care of myself!"

"Tell me that when you're not on the doorstep of hypothermia so I can pretend to believe you," was Severus' quick retort, handing Harry a mug of hot chocolate. "Do not leave even one drop…"

Harry sniffed, not able to bear looking at the stone slab any longer. How cold it was — how sharp, how cruel, how lifeless.

His gaze fell on a tree in the distance. The snow had covered most of the leaves, but a few peaked through. Harry recognised the shape. How could he not, when he was surrounded by them for a few hours every day in the past years?

Finally! Mr, Darrin had worked them to the bone and Harry was longing to put his feet up. Entering the living room, Harry flopped on the couch to catch his breath. Only for a moment, if Severus were to catch him on the furniture without changing… Harry shuddered. 

It was then only Harry noticed how dark and quiet the house was. There were no sounds of simmering or clanking vials or stirring rods. There were no strange smells floating from the kitchen. Getting vaguely worried, Harry stood up.

Ten minutes later, Harry was definitely worried. He'd searched the house from top to bottom, but there was no sign of Severus. As a last resort, Harry thought to check the backyard. Severus hated the sun so Harry didn't expect to find him there.

When he stepped outside, blinking in the sun, Harry noticed a curious building around the apple tree. It took him a while to realise what it was; a treehouse. 

Whooping with delight, Harry ran to it. He was up the ladder in a trice, almost bumping into Severus.

Severus was trying to fit a board in a gap in the roof with his wand. He cursed as the board fell, concentration broken because of the racket Harry was making.

"What are you doing back so early?" Severus asked grumpily.

"It's past five, Severus," Harry said, eyes shining with mirth.

Severus snorted disbelievingly, casting a tempus. The floating numbers had him frowning, however. 

"I have not made dinner yet," he said, apologetically. "You will have to wait."

"Forget about dinner, Severus! You made a treehouse?" Harry interrupted before Severus could leave.

A glimmer of amusement appeared in Severus' eyes at Harry's excitement. "You said you always wished for one. Happy birthday, Harry."

"Thank you, Severus," Harry said, smiling. "I can't wait to tell Ron and Hermione!"

"Don't you dare," Severus warned. "Or you might find it painted pink."

Harry laughed.

Harry startled as a breathy laugh cut through the silence. He had his wand up, a spell on his lips before Harry realised that he was the one who had made the sound. He became aware of how numb his hands were and rubbed them together. 

"Alright there, lad?"

Harry looked up at the quivering voice. It was an old lady, bent with age, a walking stick in one hand. Her dark eyes twinkled gently, a kind soul peeking from their depths.

It had been years since these eyes had made him think of dark tunnels, and yet that was all Harry could think about now, staring in them. He felt if he stared any longer, he'd get lost, wandering mazes of past memories and lost futures. Not even the coolness of the hand resting between his palms could pull him out, as they had often before.

A wrinkled hand blocked the door to the tunnels, gently closing their eyes and locking them away from him forever. Harry blinked, looking up sightlessly. 

A warm hand covered his own, and Harry swallowed.

"He's gone, Harry," Professor McGonagall said gently, voice thick.

Harry nodded, saying nothing.

What could he say? Severus was gone, and now Harry would never see the light at the end of those tunnels again.

A hand in his startled him back to the present.

"Come here, let's get you into the warmth," the old lady was saying, pulling Harry along with surprising strength. In a few minutes, he'd reached a house falling with age. Entering almost reluctantly, Harry looked around.

The interior was dimly lit and cluttered. The entire house was fitted into one room. In a corner sat a pot over a paraffin stove, and a wooden bed sat in the other, with no mattress and thin sheets. Cold wind entered through holes in the roof, and at one place it was entirely eaten away by rust.

Even though this was the most basic house Harry had seen — including Hagrid's little hut — it had a homely feel to it. He sat in the only chair as the lady bustled over with a bowl of delicious-smelling stew.

"Thanks a lot, Mrs.?" Harry said, wrapping his palms around the bowl.

"Enderson, and think nothing of it, dear. Goodness knows I need someone to spoil. My grandkids are too old for such nonsense."

Harry thought she looked a bit sad and cast wildly about to make her feel better. He needn't have bothered though, Mrs. Enderson seemed more than capable of carrying a conversation by herself. 

"I daresay you'll take any comfort offered to you. That your Da?"

The smell of eggs and tea tickled Harry's nose as he trudged down the stairs. Yawning wildly, he sat at the kitchen table, waving his wand lazily so that the cutlery came out of the cupboard and floated gently to the table.

Severus soon sat across from him, the teapot pouring tea into both their cups.

"Good morning, Harry. Slept well?"

"'Morning, Severus. As well as can be expected."

Severus hummed, shaking open the Daily Prophet. Harry left him to it, working steadily through his breakfast.

He had just polished off his second serving when an owl flew in. On seeing Hogwarts’ wax seal, Harry jumped up, almost upsetting his cup.

"Well?"

Harry looked up, seeing Severus almost looking impatient. He realised he had been staring at the parchment for a while.

"Two 'E's and the rest 'O'," Harry said apprehensively.

Severus's face did not move, but Harry could see a glimmer of pride in his eyes. "Well done."

"Thanks," Harry said, glad he hadn't disappointed Severus.

To his surprise, however, Severus pulled out a tiny package the size of a post stamp. A second later, a book sat in front of Harry.

Picking it up curiously, Harry read the title. "Dark Wizards and Where to Find Them by Gwendolyn Snatch." He looked up in surprise. "I thought you weren't happy with me being an Auror?"

Severus looked at him, the slightest hint of a smile on his lips. "I think you have fought enough to last a lifetime," he said. Harry's shoulders slumped slightly. "But Harry, this is not my life. I understand why being an Auror appeals to you, just as I know you understand my doubts."

Harry's heart felt it was about to burst with love for the man sitting across from him. Severus was not done, however.

Leaning forward, eyes serious, he continued. "Do not let anyone decide your life for you. Listen and accept advice, but only you know yourself best. If after you have truly thought about it and still feel determined, do not let anyone stop you."

Harry unstuck his throat with difficulty. It had been a long time coming, but Harry felt now was the perfect moment. "Thanks… Dad."

Severus made an imperceptible sound and hid behind his newspaper. Harry hid his own smile behind his cup. Severus would never change. 

Arms wrapped around him, and Harry realised he'd been silent for too long.

Mrs. Enderson released him after a moment, looking at him with the kindest eyes Harry had ever seen. They also looked very, very tired.

"Thank you, Mrs. Enderson."

"Call me Ma," she said. Harry smiled and nodded.

Watching the old woman bustling around the house trying to clean up, Harry had an idea. "Why don't you go and rest? I will clean up. Will do me good to have something to do, as Severus would say."

The old woman looked curiously at him using Severus' name but did not mention it.

"Oh, will you?" she said gratefully. "Thank you, dear. Lock the door behind you and slide the key under, will you?"

Harry's heart warmed at the trust shown to him and nodded, getting up to finish the rest of the dishes.

An hour later, Harry left, doing as Mrs. Enderson had said. The roof was fixed, the plumbing installed, and the house cleaned. The old lady would wake up the next morning on a soft mattress, covered in a thick blanket, wondering if the boy she had invited to her home had actually been an angel in disguise

The End.