Deliver My Letter Please, Hedwig? by misundersnape

The instructions were clear and logical and within a very short time Severus had flipped to the archives section of the book and followed a trail of names back through several generations. The pages of the volume magically folded out to reveal the visual family trees, displaying easily understandable family lines and marital unions in a logical fashion.

Upon locating his mother’s family Severus felt glad for keeping Potter away from the text; he did not want the boy to learn about his heritage and how his birth had ultimately tainted the Prince line. Even to this day it was a slightly sore point for Severus to acknowledge his Muggle legacy.

Oh, the original malice for Muggles in general had faded away with the coming of maturity and the starkness of the issues that were revealed during this war the dark man had become entangled within, but for some reason Severus’ wistfulness about not having inherited pure blood had never really left him.

Severus had dictated aloud several surnames for the teenager to make note of on his parchment. He would investigate those individually as each of the lines of enquiry came to their end unless he was fortunate and a result was realised before that was needed.

First morning tea, then lunch appeared on the desk beside them as the hours rolled on during the search before Severus pushed the book away from him slightly, realising that without the second half of the puzzle he was unlikely to make any real progress.

He took a sandwich from the platter that Potter had already ransacked and bit into it, appreciating the warm seep of satisfaction that came from filling his stomach with sustenance. The cup of tea that had sat ignored at his side and become cold was heated again with a wave of his wand and he washed the sandwich down with a gratified sip.

“That should be enough for now,” he said, indicating to the list the boy had compiled in front of him that contained some quite familiar and notable Wizarding names such Meliflua, Goshawk, Marchbanks and surprisingly, even Figg had rated a mention. But now it was time to follow the Potter line to see if it turned up anything in common, for none of the main lines Severus had followed back from Prince had revealed anything Potter connected so far.

“Names?” he requested of the teen brusquely.

Potter just looked at him blankly. “Er… Harry James Potter?” the boy supplied, hesitantly.

Severus stopped flicking through pages and looked up at him, serving the boy a scornful, disparaging glare.

“Potter, just how dim-witted do you profess to be?” he asked, mockingly.

“What?” the boy retorted, quite obviously annoyed at the insult. “Not at all… Sir,” he supplemented, wisely adding a belated, respectful title to appease the man.

Severus scoffed, clearly expressing his disbelief. “This prestigious issue,” he began contemptuously, indicating the book in his hands, “was published in excess of some seventeen years ago, therefore the latest generation of spawn will not have graced its pages; but of course I should not expect you to have realised that, having not perused the text. However, you can read, can’t you?” he asked, condescendingly, raising the book to rest on its base so the cover faced the teenager in order for him to read it again.

HP.SS.HP.SS.HP.

Harry was incensed by the man’s taunting, quickly wondering whether he’d imagined the man’s earlier moments of tenderness, but when the volume was raised for him to read the title Harry had to concede to his Professor’s point.

“Nature’s Nobility: A Wizarding Genealogy. Okay, okay, so it’s a book of pure-bloods, right, I get it,” he granted reluctantly, feeling slightly embarrassed.

The Professor nodded superciliously, “Indeed,” he said shortly. “So… names?” he asked again.

“Er… James Potter,” he supplied softly, “I er… don’t actually know any others.”

The dark professor gazed at him interestedly for a moment, a bit like he was trying to identify a hideous and potentially malicious insect, before flipping through the pages once more and locating the correct starting place.

“James Potter,” Snape read aloud, tapping the name he had found.

“Can I see?” Harry asked, his tone almost pleading.

Snape glanced up at him, and after an evaluating gaze, to Harry’s surprise, the man nodded.

“Bring your chair around this side,” he said, indicating the place next to him with a sharp gesture of his chin.

Settled next to the man, his parchment and quill alongside him, Harry was quietly excited. He was about to learn more about the Potter family, a history long denied him. And in that moment the doubt over his paternity was forgotten and hostility between him and the man helping to show him his family’s history was temporarily set aside.

Harry looked at the name Snape’s finger rested below: James Potter. The name had two lines leading away from it to nothing, similar to the ones that had appeared on the Black Family tapestry at Grimmauld Place that Harry presumed signified a marriage union.

“Why isn’t Mum there?” he said hastily, without thinking. But quickly he realised the idiocy of the question given Snape and Harry’s recent spar and cringed in readiness for a scathing response, which incredibly never came.

“She was Muggle-born, remember, Potter?” the man explained gently. ‘Wistfully, even,’ Harry thought.

“Yeah,” Harry responded at a whisper, quite in awe of the document and what it represented in front of him.

Beside him Snape seemed to physically shake off the melancholy that had settled over him.

“We should first follow this main Potter line back and document the family names shooting off. Then perhaps we might find a connection.”

“Yes, Sir,” Harry agreed, reaching for the quill to ready himself.

Another three-quarters of an hour passed by and Harry had written down some quite familiar names that surprised him: such as Rowle, Brown and even Thomas (though Harry doubted this was Dean’s family considering he was Muggle-born). Following up through the Charles Family line had even led down to Neville Longbottom. Harry was quite chuffed at the discovery.

Snape, however, just sneered.

They tracked back to the Potter line and followed the Kane Family, with a surprise mention of Black (that when traced back was found to be a separate line to Sirius’ family though Harry supposed they joined much farther up the tree) which led up to a union between Solitaire Bones and Cambridge Jones; Harry was asked to write them both down.

Once he’d finshed he looked over to Snape to see why he’d become so still and quiet. Had he found something?

HP.SS.HP.SS.

Severus stilled, his forehead creasing into a thoughtful frown. The name Jones seemed familiar

for some reason, he thought. Had he recognised it from his own family lines?

The dark man reached over and snatched the notes from Potter’s grasp -quite rudely if the boy’s expression was anything to go by – and scanned the portion where the teenager had scratched down the names he’d dictated from his own family lines earlier.

He read through several names before Severus determined Jones wasn’t among them. But something nagged at the back of his mind. Maybe he’d missed this name for some reason; failed to see it; considered it not significant.

He dragged the book back toward him, away from the boy who was now eyeing him with inquisitive anticipation, and flicked back through the book to the page that named his mother; Eileen Prince. The two dashes that sat beside her name taunted Severus about his Father’s lack of Wizarding blood and therefore reminded the dark man of his disconcerting sentiments about his own half-blood heritage. Swiftly he slid his hand forward and covered his mother’s entry – and the evident lack of her descendants - with his fingers; shielding it, as though the move was incidental, from the boy.

With his other hand he traced his index finger up through the generations searching for the mention of the Jones name he assumed he might have noted earlier, but had not bothered to mention aloud.

He passed over his Grandparents; his Great-Grandparents and was almost ready to dismiss his Great-Great-Grandparents through the Prince line when he found an unusual entry. The name Comet Prince was linked by the marriage symbol to Rita Figg; Severus’ Great-Great-Grandmother. Together they had borne three children; Stella, Ulrich and Severus’ Great-Grandfather, Didar. But slightly off to the side, connected to Comet’s name was another symbol, similar to the marriage dashes, yet slightly different.

Severus immediately referred to the book’s index list of symbols for the meaning of the dashes

and was stunned by what he found.

(=) Infidelity resulting in a child, the text explained. Severus was taken aback, and slightly galled by the find.

The boy beside him was leaning closer in an attempt to read what he’d looked up and to prevent him Severus quickly let the page flap closed.

He returned to the page with the Prince line, following the odious symbol to the name connected with his Great-Great-Grandfather’s; Callida Jones!

And as he followed the lead on further he discovered the illegitimate child that had warranted the entry into the text; Cambridge Jones connected with a marriage line to Solitaire Bones. Names, Severus immediately knew, matched perfectly with ones he’d dictated to Potter only minutes ago.

They were related!

But of course they already knew this and Severus realised that this find had been almost counter -productive in the search for the truth regarding Potter’s paternity. For if Severus had found absolutely no evidence of a kinship then the truth would have been immediately known – they would have to have been Father and Son. But this way the truth still eluded them, for even though there was a very distant shared ancestry, this did not disprove nor discount a potential closer, more recent kinship.

Severus sighed heavily with the find and abandoned the book; leaning back in his chair. Well, he still kept one of his hands over his mother’s name; no need for the boy to learn of that.

Beside him the boy became still, staring at him with question. “Sir?” he asked, obviously burning to have the truth revealed to him.

“I have found proof of kinship through a common ancestor, Potter,” Severus said evenly, leaving it to the boy to prod him further.

Potter was silent for a further few moments. “Who… where?” he asked, looking to the book as though expecting to be shown specifically. Severus was tempted not to, out of spite or shame he wasn’t entirely sure, but after deep, fortifying breath he agreed.

He showed the boy (on his own family’s page so as not to accidentally spy Severus’ own non-entry) where his Great-Great-Grandfather, Comet Prince had joined with Callida Jones and had produced a child, Cambridge Jones, who had gone on to join with Solitaire Bones in marriage which had eventually led to a union within the Potter line a few generations below.

The boy followed easily and then looked up at Severus with a disturbingly sentimental expression.

“Is this why Hedwig delivered my letter for Dad to you, because you’re related to me on my Dad’s side?”

Feeling rather overwhelmed himself Severus softened toward the boy, perceiving his sense of misplacement in the world, and decided to let the mystery go for the moment and let the child come to terms with what had already been learned before heaping his shoulders with the further dilemma.

Having taken pains to note the fate of every line he had followed during his research Severus found it both grim and affecting to answer. “It’s more than that, Potter… as given the owl-”

“Hedwig,” Harry interrupted, supplying the bird’s name; to Severus’ irritation, but he did not chastise the boy.

“As Hedwig,” he instead complied with a nod, “apparently delivered the letter addressed to your deceased father to me; then perhaps it is that I am your closest living relative,” Snape submitted softly.

After another glance at the pages of the Genealogy book Severus added to himself, ‘And apparently you are mine.’

It was rather heartbreaking to realise that although their kinship was so far removed, eleven steps Severus quickly calculated, that they were one another’s closest relative.

Well, Harry Potter was Severus’ closest anyway, he recognised. Severus himself might have been the closest on Potter’s father’s side, but he knew the boy lived with Lily’s dreadful sister and her husband. He even brought to mind some distant memory of having been informed at some point that they had a child too, and after a moment he managed to remember the scenes involving the blubber of a boy he’d witnessed during Potter’s Occlumency lessons.

Yes, the boy had a family… he didn’t need some half-cocked, distant version fouling his life up.

Severus couldn’t possibly be a positive influence on his life, could he? The boy and he didn’t even get along. Granted it was mostly his own doing; a deliberate effort to stay distanced from the boy who had resembled his greatest childhood foe and the woman he’d fallen in love with but knew he could never have; but still, Potter wasn’t out there looking for Severus, a long-lost, distant cousin, to fill a vacant position in his family.

No, Potter didn’t need him. He already had a paternal figure in Petunia’s husband; he could counsel the child.

This thought gave Severus pause. For if the man could, then why hadn’t he? Why had Potter found it necessary to correspond with a deceased man, who could never supply a response, instead of sitting down with his Aunt and Uncle to share his concerns and fears?

Knowing Petunia from long ago the possibilities that were beginning to form in his head were unpleasant at best and downright ugly at worst; but surely the woman had grown from the beast she had been as a jealous teen?

Severus felt a sudden compunction to investigate why the owl – Hedwig – had delivered this correspondence to a very distant relative instead of those much closer and that resided with the boy.

‘Unless, of course, it turns out that distance isn’t as great as it so-far appears,’ he thought, inevitably acknowledging the still existent doubt regarding the boy’s paternity.