Chapter 28

It hardly seemed possibly, the speed with which time passed and seasons changed. For Severus it was particularly unfair, for September slipped smoothly into October and if it hadn’t been for a few well-placed calendars he would not have noticed at all. Harry, however, felt the change in the wind, and took to spending a large amount of time in his room. Severus didn’t blame him, could hardly, since his own major tantrum was what had the boy’s classes with the Headmaster extended by a further month. Harry had assured him he didn’t blame him, but Severus was all too adept at blaming himself.

When he had the time to spare that was. What with classes, detentions, patrols, monitoring Granger and the Slytherins and something new and scary called ‘family time’ Severus was swamped, barely ever having a spare moment for himself. And really, he could blame it all on Harry.

He’d heard Flitwick complain in hushed tones to McGonagall about coming across a rather indecently dressed pair of Gryfindors one night after a late staff meeting. Severus didn’t have to wait for the man to name names, since he expressed his reluctance to strip the students of their prefect badges so early into their fifth year. There were only two fifth year Gryffindor prefects, and Severus knew just who they were.

And so he volunteered to do the next weeks patrols, intent on finding the two miscreants, less their petting go any further and then they somehow think it prudent to supplant ideas into his son’s head, and then he’d have to deal with wild magic at all inopportune times and that’s was just something Severus was not prepared for, thank you very much. Find them he did, on his third night out, and fifth, and seventh, and each time he gave them a lecture so scathing he was sure they’d be permanently red in the face, but he found them again and again for weeks on end. He was very, very tempted to hit them both with a celibacy spell, which not only kept one from wanting to commit various acts of indecency, but removed the desire to be intimate from one’s make-up indefinitely. The only problems were that it was a dark spell, and one that was easily noticeable, especially in a school full of hormonal teenagers. Merlin help him.

He almost suspected Ron was planning something, mainly getting into Granger’s pants. Why else would the boy, all six feet two inches of him, would spend hours upon hours crammed into a tiny library chair, bent over books most fifth years couldn’t be bothered to look at. ‘Wizarding Geneology’, ‘So, You Want to Know Where You Came From?’, and Wizard Family Ties: Birthmarks and Traits’ had all been checked out after an afternoon of intense study, and a prickling sort of anticipatory heat crept along the back of his neck every time Severus thought about it. The boy was searching for something. Severus didn’t know if he hoped the child would find it.

Whatever had happened to the child over the summer had changed him, and Granger liked it. Especially since Ron spent more time reading than he did anything else. His grade marks had made a complete turn-around, and Ron was more focused, both in class and out of it, than any of the teachers had ever seen him. And the Granger was lapping it all up, especially since the boy could rattle off obscure facts about wizarding geneology that she wouldn’t know about. Now that Severus thought about it, she probably dragged Ron out of the common room, away from his books, to have a quick hop in a broom cupboard. Her mind was certainly dirty enough. Severus would know, he’d been there.

To her credit, the Granger was a stellar student. She did the readings, and more, completed all assignments above and beyond expectations and could adequately perform any incantation given in under three attempts. To Severus, she was a horrible student.

It wasn’t that she didn’t do the readings, because she did, or that she didn’t complete the assignments he gave her to her already high standard, because she did, and Severus freely gave her the extra credit her work deserved, even if he didn’t tell her about it. It was just that she was too good. The work she handed in to him, the theories she came up with and expounded upon when asked would give wizards with specialized masteries great burning ulcers of shock. And she was a fair hand at the practical aspect of their lessons, and her spell repertoire had expanded greatly over the past few weeks, and though she was an average on the power scale, what she lacked in power she made up for in creativity and incredible improvisation. She was a fascinating, incredible puzzle, adjectives that could be either positive or negative, depending on how much she irritated him during a lesson. It could not be denied that she was brilliant, Severus wasn’t that stubborn, but she was in a way that it was scary. The last person he’d met so unaccountably amazing was one Tom Riddle, before the rituals had taken away the remainder of his sanity. That the girl was only fifteen made it all the more remarkable. She had a mind so ordered and precise Severus wondered, while lazily ignoring the girl’s attempts to shove him out of said mind, if it was even human at all. But her temper flared, clouding everything over with a red kind of fog, and proved she was.

She could consume and regurgitate entire passages of information, and understand exactly what she was saying. He wondered why she studied so much, and in pushing around certain thoughts and memories found his answer. And a new type of fear. Hermione Granger wanted just what Tom Riddle wanted: greatness. She was, at fifteen, as determined and brilliant as Tom Riddle had been in his late thirties, but more knowledgeable, less insane and infinitely more dangerous. Severus had hidden his fear as best he could, and grudgingly allowed the girl to sense the smallest smatterings of approval from his thoughts. He’d teach her, he’d said, connect her to all the right people, and with her knowledge, his cunning and Harry’s fame, there was nothing she could not do, he’d said to her. But he’d be careful. He was going to keep her close to him, keep her on the good side of magic. She would be great, yes, but he would make sure she stayed good.

He’d never forget the day he had randomly cast a cutting spell followed by an incendio in her general direction as he waited for her to create a month’s worth of false memories, an advanced technique, for certain. The girl had calmly transfigured a chunk of stone from his floor into a sheet of clay which his cutting spell ripped through, before banishing the pieces towards him, straight through the fire. He’d been assaulted with scores of tiny shard of hardened clay that not even his hastily cast shield spell could completely protect him from. Of course, he’d taken points for damage to school property, since the transfiguration had been permanent, and the girl had had the audacity to tell him she loved him. He was beginning to regret the speech control potion he’d slipped her. He would love to hear to hear some of the thoughts she had about him enunciated.

Not that he was going to remove it. No matter what Dumbledore said.

Furthermore, in his monitoring the Slytherin students, who were having far more success with mingling with the other students than he thought possible at this stage, he noticed Draco. Draco spending long hours in the library. Draco talking to house-elves. Draco spending hours pouring over books. It seemed Draco had given himself a project. After weeks of surveillance, the most Severus could figure out was that the brat was working on some type of massive feeding spell, and his mind immediately went to Black and his pranks. Enraged, he had marched his way into the man’s rooms and demanded an answer. When he found out Draco was working on whatever he was working on completely unassisted, Severus had become so alarmed he’d dropped into a chair, before demanding Black pay more attention and make sure Draco didn’t blow himself up.

“I know what he’s doing, Severus. I’m not completely daft. I’m watching him very closely. I just want him to see that magic can’t do everything.”

Severus had watched the man fiddle with his papers for a moment. “Any thought as to what brought on this sudden interest? He’s been researching nutrition and Muggle biology, of all things. I caught him trying to make a Never-Ending potion last week, in class, no less.”

Sirius had shrugged, eyes on the wall. “Harry. He, Draco and Ron had a bit of a fight, sort of. Harry, he’s short, and he knows it, but he doesn’t like when people notice it, or make fun of him, which Ron and Draco sort of did. Friendly teasing from all of them, I’m assured, until they got to Harry’s height. Harry jinxed them both and ran off, and they came to me to reverse it. Neither of them understood why he was so upset, or why I told them it was likely that Harry wouldn’t get much taller, so I explained.” Severus had looked thunderous. “But only a little bit.”

“And Draco thinks he can fix him.”

“Well, not per se. He knows he’s still a kid and he hasn’t got the control probably needed, but he figures he can do the theory.”

“When will you tell him that what he is attempting is not possible. The human body cannot metabolize quickly enough for what he is intending.”

“My dragon is a determined little bit,” Sirius said, leaning back in his chair and meeting Severus’ eyes. “He swears that magic has a way. Am I supposed to tell him ‘no’? Crush his dreams? Don’t think so. I’ll be here when he needs me, for advice or to patch him up, but I’m standing behind him, no matter what he wants to do with his life.”

Severus had thought that level of sentiment was a bit nauseating, and so fled the scene. He hadn’t heard anything about the fight itself from Harry, but did notice the child sulking around their quarters more. He had put it down, before, to Harry seeking proximal comfort needed to contend with Dumbledore’s lessons and had left the child to it. After his talk with Sirius, however, he made sure to spend more time with the child, and added an additional calcium supplement to the boy’s daily potions routine, and told the child so.

Also, the adoption papers had come back, all signed and sealed and official looking three days before Halloween. Severus had stared at the parchment covered end to end in official seals and had smiled an honest smile. Harry was his. His son, officially. The Ministry of Magic knew it, and soon, so would Voldemort and all his cronies. The pain would be worse. Their lives would be in more danger. They’d have to step up their plan with the Slytherins. But Harry was his. Harry James Potter Lupin Black Snape, ‘heir to the Potter, Black and Prince lines of both magic and prestige’ so the papers said.

Now, now the games could begin.

He’d went to find the boy to show him, a frission of nervous energy springing to life in his stomach, but couldn’t find him in either bedroom, or the study, and the bathroom was innocently empty. He began to panic, speeding down the hallway, before there was a muffled thump coming from his storage room, and he forced his heart to calm.

Harry was not exactly banned from the storage room, nor was he exactly given free reign there either. Severus had known that sooner or later the boy would end up in there, since a bored Harry equaled a curious Harry, but had hoped the child would last a bit longer. He crept up to the door, and peered in.

Harry knelt on the floor, elbow deep in a chest Severus hadn’t looked at, thought of, in more than a decade. It was made of pale wood, nearly new and was more than a foot wide and covered in dust. It was filled to the brim with baby toys and clothing though, and that caused his heart to clench in his chest. Of all the things Harry had to find, it had to be this.

Ronin.

Harry was oblivious to Severus’ anguish though, and cheerfully pulled a bright orange octopus out of the trunk. For a moment Harry simply stared at the thing, before inexplicably thwapping himself in the face with the plush toy. Severus could only watch as the boy’s face brightened before the octopus was crushed against his chest, and the trunk slammed closed. Harry seemed to be muttering to himself, but the only thing his new father heard was “go find Severus” before the door swung open and surprised green eyes peered up at him.

“Sev! Look what I found!”

There was a tightness in his chest, one he could not think away or ignore. Severus could only stare down at the concerned little face and breathe. A corner of his mind was screaming, screaming that the boy had trespassed, had opened a can of worms he could not begin to close back and Ronin, Ronin, Ronin, Ronin, he hadn't thought the name in years because it hurt, a slicing sort of pain that ripped through his heart and all the way through his entire body, and then he was on his knees, Harry's panicked face inches from him, hands patting his cheeks and a high pitched sort of noise in his ear...oh. Harry was screaming.

“Sev! Severus! Sev! Are you alright?? Winky!?”

There was a single 'pop' signaling the arrival of their house elf, and before Harry could say another word Severus was being levitated, his stomach giving a sudden, angry swoop, and then the walls passed, taking him to his bedroom, it seemed, then he was on his bed, and Winky had spelled a calming draught into his system, he could tell, because his heart slowed down, though he hadn't noticed it racing, and the creeping black edges around his vision cleared away and breathing became easier, though he hadn't noticed he'd been fighting for breath, but that was fine, everything was fine, except Harry was still looking panicked as he crept up onto the bed next to him and wiped his face. Why was the child wiping his face?

“You were crying, Sev. Are you alright? Did Voldie do something to your mark again?”

Gradually, Severus came back to himself, the fog that had settled over his mind, a sort of paralyzing panic that shut him down, ebbing away. Severus had shifted experimentally, found his hand still worked and reached for his son's hands. The boy struggled for a moment, trying to twist his wrists free, but Severus had stopped him. “I am fine, Harry.”

Harry's eyes were accusing. “People don't cry when they're fine.”

“True. I wasn't then, but I'm fine now. You gave me a shock, earlier.” He looked around, only to find Winky had disappeared, and a tray of tea and biscuits, the ones he liked, on a table at the foot of his bed.

“How did I give you a shock? Did I scare you?”

“You did not, child.” Try as he might, Severus could not bring himself to ignore the plush toy still clutched to Harry's chest. He wondered at that, briefly, that a fifteen yer old boy would become so instantly attached to a child's toy, but put it aside for further analysis later, when he was completely himself. “I wanted to tell you that the adoption papers have returned. Signed and sealed.” He met suddenly bright green eyes. “You are officially my son.”

Harry's grip on the octopus tightened. “Harry Snape?”

“Among other surnames, yes.”

“Is that why you were crying? 'Cause you're happy?”

Severus smiled, and pulled the boy closer. “I am very happy, Harry. I get to keep you, and give you detentions forever if you break curfew - “

“Hey!”

“But that is not why I was crying.”

“Then why were you?”

Severus blinked, ran a hand through the mess that was Harry's hair. “I used to have a son.” Harry looked up at him, eyes instantly full of questions. “I do not know what happened to him. His mother took him away from me when he was little, barely two years old.”

“Why!”

“She found out I was a Death Eater. She was a muggleborn, she probably thought I was bidding my time, and that I'd hand them over to the dark lord.”

“But you were a spy!”

“Not always, but by that time I was. I hadn't told her yet. I wanted to keep them separate, keep them safe. I knew she would not have taken it well; I did not know she would go so far.”

“Couldn't you just get her to bring him back? Or go get him yourself? He's your son!”

“I don't know what she did with him. I came home one day and the flat was empty, none of their things anywhere. It was like I'd been living by myself for the past three years, but I hadn't. I searched everywhere, in all the rooms, there was nothing, nothing anywhere, but this toy, right here. I was running around the place for an hour before I thought to go find her. And then I went to the Ministry to find her, but no one would tell me where she was so I left, came home, and sat on the floor for an hour. I couldn't understand it. I'd been sitting there for hours before she came by. She knocked on the door, then let herself in. She spoke to me like one would a scared animal, and had no memories of our life together or of Ronin. As far as she knew the last time we'd seen each other had been at our graduation. I begged her, pleaded with her, I cried, I didn't care if she hated me, I needed my son. He was mine, only a little boy. She said I should go to St. Mungo's, because the dark magic I'd been dealing with had addled my mind. She said I had always been a death eater, since before the end of our seventh year, and nothing I said would convince her otherwise. She told me she hoped I never had a son, because merlin only knows how I'd mistreat him.”

“How could she! She was your wife!”

Severus smiled, ignoring the tears on his face. “Technically, we were not married, but anger and fear make people do and say things they normally would not have. I want to hate her, I do, but I loved her, still do. She gave me both my boys.”

Harry's damp eyes widened at that, the facts adding up in his mind. “My mum?”

Severus nodded. “Lily. A year later she was married to James Potter. It took me a while to approach Remus with it, and he later brought Sirius into it. They thought I needed mental help, and would try diagnosing me in turns. It wasn't until I revealed a rune-locked memory charm on both of them and Dumbledore that they believed me. I showed them my memories and after Dumbledore verified that they were real, they tried to reason with Lily.”

“It didn't work.”

“No. She insisted that I'd Confunded them all and wanted nothing to do with it. Dumbledore couldn't break into her mind and James was throwing a fit, and so they let it go. I tried everything, but I never found him.”

“You stopped looking?”

“There was nothing else to be done - “

“How could you! He's your son and he was only a baby!” An angry fist slammed into his abdomen, and Severus winced, snatching the offending hand to him. “You could have found him!”

“I have tried everything!” He gave the boy a little shake, internally damning himself for his tears and for starting this conversation. “There was no method I had not tried. Every point me spell, finding and retrieval ritual and even the deepest, most dangerous of Dark magics I've tried, but she has hidden him, used her incredible knowledge of the Department of Mysteries probably to hide him and in fifteen years I haven't seen or heard anything about him, didn't even know he existed until now!”

“Until now?” Wide, hopeful green eyes peered up from him. Severus loosed his grip on the boy's thin shoulders lest he leave bruises, and forced himself to calm. The calming Draft had worn off, it seemed, and his heart preformed acrobatics in his chest. “You know where he is?”

Severus shook his head. “No. No I don't. I have an idea...”

“Then go get him! Go try! It might really be him and then - “

“No, Harry, stop!” His eyes had somehow clenched shut on their own and it was hard to breathe, hard to do anything around the crushing wave of hope he'd been trying to squash and stomp out and ignore because it was too much, too much to hope that it was really the child he'd been hurting for for so long and he couldn't bear it if it wasn't, if everything was just a bunch of coincidences that did not add up and Severus couldn't take it …

“Oh. It hurts.”

And then thin arms were wrapping around his neck and a slim body crawling into his lap and Severus squeezed his child, his son, the one he could hold and cherish and not have to let go of,grateful tha he did not have to say anything else.

They had stayed like that for hours, Severus occasionally running a hand through Harry's hair and Harry drifting in and out of sleep, his head filled with a new mystery and the knowledge that he had a family, someone who wanted him and maybe even needed him, and a brother he had to find.

And Severus never saw the thin blonde child that stepped away from his bedroom door.