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!