Light filtered weakly in through the old attic window, lighting motes of dust in a beam that in turn lit up a hunched, sleeping figure.
Harry’s chest rose and fell, his body twitching every now and then in his fitful dreams of Draco throwing the school house elves at him and laughing as Snape brought him a new gift every time he hit Harry in the head with one. The third time Draco hit Harry with Dobby, finally knocking him to the cold stone floor, Harry woke up, achy from sleeping upright, and feeling as if he had actually been beaten down with many three-foot tall house elves.
For a moment he was confused as he looked around himself and did not find his bed or his dorm room, or even his small room at number four Privet Drive. Then he remembered with an unpleasant feeling somewhere in the depths of his stomach, that he had fallen asleep the night before feeling more alone than he ever had.
Harry stretched unwillingly and groaned as his muscles protested. He had woken once in the dark night, wondering where at that moment that Snape was, and then gone back to sleep, too tired to make his way back to Gryffindor tower. While he had grown accustomed to a pleasant feeling at having someone to call “dad,” at least in his own mind, Harry now felt sick each time he thought about Severus missing the one day he could call his own. Thoughts that the Slytherin head of house actually liked Draco more than him tugged at his heart as he climbed off the desk, and made his way out of the attic, re-locking the door behind him. He thought of going down to breakfast, seeing as how he was still fully-clothed from the day before, but discarded the thought immediately, half wanting to find Severus there waiting for him, and half not wanting to see him at all, just in case he had missed Harry’s birthday on purpose.
As Harry made his way back to Gryffindor tower, he thought to himself, it was just a stupid day… what made it so different from any other day? Why do you have to make such a big deal of everything? He shook his head; he didn’t know why it was so important to him, but it was. He tried to push all thoughts of the previous day from his mind, tired of thinking about it, and tired of feeling as rejected as he did, but was unsuccessful clearing his mind. In fact, it surprised him that Voldemort hadn’t stepped into his mind in his dreams as he slept, when he was so distressed before he had gone to sleep.
If Severus knew that he hadn’t occluded his mind… there he went again, thinking about Severus… the father figure he had to compete for, and had obviously lost the game. Or maybe he hadn’t lost… perhaps Draco had just played unfairly. Thoughts confused, probably from lack of proper rest, Harry thought to himself, I wonder if Draco planned on stealing away the only parent I’m ever going to get the chance to have.
He scratched the back of his head as he rounded a corner sleepily and was not pleased to find Draco standing there looking out a window in the corridor that showed the Quidditch pitch across the grounds.
“You look like hell,” Draco said as Harry stopped and stared at him dumbly, feeling numb and tired from lack of a good solid sleep.
For many moments Harry searched his mind for the words he wanted to say, and couldn’t find anything within his grasp. All of a sudden it was as if he didn’t know how to talk anymore.
“Leave me alone,” he finally said, and continued past the blond boy, a foot scraping the floor every once in a while because he was either too tired, or didn’t care enough to pick it up off the ground all the way.
Draco frowned behind him. “Fine with me Potter,” he muttered, shifting his gaze back to the pitch out the window.
In his common room, Harry flopped down on a couch, feeling hungry but not wanting to eat with the rest of the staff. He had no doubt that what Draco had said about his appearance was true. He probably had bags under his eyes and messed up hair. If Hermione were here he was sure she could spell him to look better, but she was somewhere in the freedom of the Burrow at the moment, probably eating with the Weasleys. Oh what he would give to be there with them now… with his surrogate family, eating breakfast at a table surrounded by people who probably cared about him more than anybody else he knew. These were the people, he thought sadly as he pictured the orange haired family and Hermione sitting around the table, these are the people who would never betray me. These are the people who will always be there when I need them, no matter what.
Harry took some comfort in these thoughts as he put his feet up on a tattered footstool in front of him and closed his eyes. As Harry drifted off, he could almost hear Fred and George laughing as they ran down the stairs to breakfast, and could see Hermione elbowing Ron for something he’d said or done that she didn’t approve of. The dreams that followed through the afternoon were much more satisfying to Harry than the ones spent on a desk by a cold window.
* * *
Severus snapped the paper open in front of him at his seat in the Great Hall. He was uninterested in the oatmeal that had appeared in front of him when he had initially taken a seat at the empty table, and was uninterested in engaging in meaningless conversation with the other staff members that filtered in over the next twenty minutes. Unfortunately for Severus, Minerva McGonagall had other ideas for him.
A hand appeared over the top edge of Severus’ copy of the Daily Prophet, and gently pulled it down so that he had to look up and meet her calculating stare.
“Yes?” he asked testily, raising an eyebrow. He was still in a foul mood from the night before.
“And where were you yesterday morning?”
Severus tried to snap the paper open again, but she held on tight, wrinkling the paper in the process. When she would not let go, he said through his teeth, “On an errand.”
“An errand more important that Harry?”
He lowered the paper completely now, even more agitated. “You grow more like Albus every day… why must you speak in riddles?”
“It humors me,” she said without humor in her tone at all. “I’m talking about his birthday.”
Severus closed his eyes and let out a pained sigh. He had forgotten. Put on his errand, he had known he might miss it, but he had forgotten the moment he had made it back to the castle the night before.
“Where is he?”
She shrugged. “I don’t know, but he didn’t go back to Gryffindor tower last night.”
His brow creased, Severus thought back to how fragile the boy could sometimes be. At moments he was as bad as Draco, and visa versa.
“You truly believe that my absence from one breakfast was enough to throw his state of mind a kilter?”
“It’s Harry,” she said calmly, still staring Severus down. “What do you think he will believe when you showed up to Mr. Malfoy’s breakfast, but not his own?”
Snape grew thoughtful again. What ever made me think I was fit for the task of father figure? I didn’t ask for this. Indeed he had not asked for the position of being looked up to and trusted by one younger than himself, but he could not deny that it was something that he wanted.
Running a hand through his hair, Severus said, “I do not know what to do. I am not made for this.”
“Not made for thinking about other people?”
His eyes snapped up to McGonagall’s at the remark, and the look in them was enough to convey his distaste for her at that moment. “Do not think for a moment that I avoided the party. It was not my idea to go gallivanting off across the country on a meaningless task.”
She raised a brow. “Does Harry know that?”
Severus sighed again. They both knew the answer to her question.
* * *
When Harry awoke in the afternoon, he still felt achy all over, except that this was the type of ache one got from sleeping all day. It made him feel even more tired, which did not help his state of mind. Groggy, he rose from the couch and traipsed up the stairs to his dormitory to change into some of the new clothes he got for his birthday, so that it didn’t look as if he had just slept the past 16 hours in the clothes he was going to be walking around in.
The empty dormitory greeted him in a silence that suddenly made him feel uncomfortable. He wished his friends were there again. In his younger years, Harry was used to feeling completely alone as he spent hours on end hiding from Dudley or his uncle Vernon, but now he was far too used to the company of those who cared about him. The silence surrounding him in the darkened tower room took him back to a time where he desperately did not want to be. Again, he could not help but thinking that he was making too much of things.
Harry ran a hand through his messed up hair and sat down on the edge of his bed. He needed something to distract himself, and his broom, leaning against the side of his wardrobe caught his eye. If only he could sneak outside, he thought. At least Ron would be proud if he managed to get past the auror guards. What could they do to him if he got caught? Turn him into Dumbledore or Snape? He’d get a slap on the wrist, if that.
Making up his mind, Harry pulled out his invisibility cloak and covered his broom in it, pleased that it fit perfectly under the disappearing material. Once completely wrapped up in the cloak, Harry having a tight grip on it, and hoping he wouldn’t look too weird holding something that would appear to be nothing, he started for the common room again. He would sneak the broom up to the attic, he thought, and wait until night when he knew the guard’s shift change was, and then use the cloak to cover himself and fly out to the pitch. It wasn’t much of a plan, he admitted to himself, but he didn’t care. At the moment, it was enough to take his mind from other things.
With the broom completely concealed, Harry didn’t worry about bumping in to anybody in the corridors until he again walked around a corner to find Draco. Draco cocked his head to the side when he saw Harry, and narrowed his eyes.
“What do you want?” Draco asked him.
Harry shook his head and smiled, pleased that Draco had not noticed the broom. “I can’t walk down the halls now?”
Draco’s eyes narrowed further, and then finally his gaze wandered down to Harry’s hand. He lunged forward and tried to rip the hidden broom from Harry, but his Seeker reflexes kicking in, Harry sidestepped him and pulled the broom out of the way.
Draco grinned, suspicions confirmed. “Going out for a little joy ride were we?” he taunted.
Harry rolled his eyes. “What, going to tell on me? If I cared I wouldn’t be trying to get out anyway.”
“Oh no,” Draco said, “I’ve just been waiting for you and that cloak to appear. You’re going to carry my broom out with you.”
Harry laughed wryly. “Or what?”
Draco pulled his wand out and pointed it at Harry. “What fun is it chasing a stupid Snitch around by yourself? Besides, if we can get out, we can duel where no one will stop us.”
“You want to fight?”
Draco put his wand away and turned, excited now, back to the window through which he’d been staring. “I want something to do.”
* * *
Still not hungry, Harry avoided the Great Hall, and instead found a quiet spot in the castle that he had not been in before to wait until the arranged time to meet Draco in the attic. He had half a mind to not show up at all, but his sense of boredom got the better of him, and he planned on being there by the window with his broom at nine o’clock.
The hours passed by slowly, Harry having only his thoughts to keep him company. He did not like sitting around and doing nothing. During the school year, he sometimes wished desperately for summer to come so that he could sit around and be free of work, but now that it was there, he wanted only for the castle to be full of people again, and for somebody to give him something to do.
Harry sighed heavily and was startled when footsteps sounded behind him, seemingly coming from nowhere. He turned quickly from his spot on the windowsill and found Severus standing there behind him, arms crossed.
“Do not think of climbing out the window to go to the pitch.”
“What?” Harry worked quickly to occlude his mind, but realized that he hadn’t been thinking of flying at that moment, and wondered how he knew.
“I caught Draco sneaking his broom up to a higher floor an hour and a half ago.”
“Hm,” Harry turned around to look through the window again.
“Do you want to keep me locked up in here all alone?” Harry said, coming off more sarcastic than he wanted to as feelings of desertion came flooding back over him.
“I wish you not to break rules set down for your own protection.”
Harry didn’t answer, and Severus moved a few steps closer to him. In the silence that passed between them in the next few moments, a million things Harry wanted to shout came to mind. What was so important that he had missed his birthday? Was he spending more time with Draco? Did he like Draco more? The seeds of doubt that had been planted in Harry’s mind the day before had now grown into hundred foot tall trees.
Finally Severus broke the silence, and said, “It was not my intention to miss your birthday. I am sorry.”
“You made sure to be at Draco’s party…” Harry paused, thinking in his mind that no matter what Snape said to him, he was still going to break out of the castle somehow that night and go to the pitch… even if he had to leave his broom behind, he just wanted out.
“I was on an errand.”
“Was it that important?”
Severus moved the remaining steps to Harry now, and put a hand on Harry’s shoulder. “No, it was not.”
Confused with the answer he had been given, Harry looked up into Severus’ eyes with a frown.
“I was sent on an errand I do not believe was important,” he held up his hand to stop Harry’s oncoming question, and said, “and although I wish to, I cannot tell you, or Draco, the nature of the task. I can only tell you that it was not by choice that I went.”
Harry thought that over, and while he forgave the man behind him in his mind, his feelings were not so easy to win over. In one last defiant moment, Harry said quietly, “Just another wasted birthday.”
Silence. “Explain.”
Having said it, Harry did not know how to explain. He did not even know why he said it. It was one of those moments where he felt like a child with his hand caught in a cookie jar. Pondering on what he had said, he finally came up with, “I never had a parent at a birthday party… not that I can remember anyhow.”
“You did not have parties when you were younger?”
“The first party I ever had was after I started school and I was with the Weasleys.”
“Hm…” After a moment, a hand with a small box wrapped in plain brown paper appeared in front of Harry’s face. Harry stared at the box for a moment, and then looked up to Severus.
“I bought this a month ago,” he told him, still holding out the box. “I had intended to give it to you on time, and am… displeased, that I could not.”
Harry looked back at the box, and finally reached out and took it. It was light, and felt empty. He unwrapped the box and let the paper fall to the floor. Inside was what looked like a paper book cover.
Seeing the confused look on Harry’s face, Severus said, “You do not like it?”
“Oh no, I do… it’s just… what is it again?”
From within his robes, Severus pulled a small, but heavy looking book. He handed it to Harry, who immediately wanted to drop it because of its weight. He wondered how the man before him had carried it in his pocket and not sagged from the extra weight.
“Place the book on top of the cover, and wrap the cover around it.”
Harry did as he was told, and was amazed to find the cover shrinking around the book. Immediately the book was paper light, and Harry tossed it in the air a couple times, having to wait a few seconds for it to float back down to him.
“What’s this called?” he asked, amazed.
“A book cover,” Severus said, in his own mind thinking that he was funny. Giving him a small smile, Harry removed the cover to find the book extremely heavy again.
“It will wrap up to five large books. It is a rare item made in Malaysia by a dwarf named Gorgok. He used it to wrap heavy golden bars. I thought you might find it useful for carrying school books.”
Finally Harry smiled. He couldn’t remember what Severus had gotten Draco, but he knew it wasn’t as good as this gift. Inside, he felt he had won a small match between the two of them.
Severus nodded, and asked, “Have you eaten?”
Harry shook his head. “If you are not busy, I have also not eaten, and would not mind company in the Great Hall. The rest of the staff have already left to do other things.” Harry nodded and jumped down off the windowsill, no longer thinking of sneaking out of the castle for the moment.
Feeling the weight of his previous feelings of loneliness lift from him, Harry found himself feeling warm all over. Wondering how Severus would take it if he called him “dad,” as he had only called him this on three previous occasions, Harry smiled, and said, “Thanks for the gift… dad.”
Severus’ face remained as calm and free of emotion as it usually did in front of other people, but inside a warm feeling that he had hardly felt in the last twenty years crept over him. It was a feeling so foreign to him that it felt as if it was the first time he had ever experienced it every time he felt it. It wasn’t unpleasing to him. In fact, it was the opposite of displeasing, and he longed to hear the name again. For the first time in a long time, he felt as if there was something bigger at work than himself. It was amazing to think that someone who had every right to hate him, and for so long had taken advantage of that right, now thought of him not as an enemy, but as a father.
“You’re welcome… son.” That was a first for him too, he thought to himself. At one point in time he had entertained the idea of having children… of having children with Lily; but that seemed in another lifetime. His memories of that time seemed like a show he was watching where some unknown actor played him.
Harry grinned as they walked down the corridor and around a corner.
Appearing from a side hall where Harry had been sitting on the windowsill, Draco frowned deeply inside and out. Familiar hatred for Harry sprang up within him and heated his insides. Perfect Potter getting his way again, he thought to himself. Perfect popular Potter. The fact was, against their resident hero, he didn’t stand a chance. Why would anyone want Draco as a son when they could have the famous Harry Potter, who never did anything wrong, and had a million friends?
A Father's Love