Sea Change

Thanks to Tambrathegreat, Sickpuppy, Cravedom, Light, GillyChan, and Yaoi_addict for your reviews. Sorry this was so long in coming, but I had to be satisfied the tone was just right. Light, your confusion is understandable, but all will become clear, not in this chapter, but soon. Cravedom, thank you for your kind and inspiring words, and Tambra, thanks for being my rock and Chief Shoulder to Whinge on. Sickpuppy, thanks for keeping my "its/it's" in proper check.



Chapter 3


Severus landed in the massive fireplace at Hogwarts hell bent on finally giving that old bastard his due. His fury hadn't abated any during his whirling trip from Spinner's End; if anything, he was now in a towering rage. All the past wounds, the years spent as the old man's pawn, the years spent paying for his youthful mistake, his guilt over his past actions, guilt Dumbledore had never hesitated to use to keep Severus in line, it all roiled through him now, fueling his anger.


"You had no right you meddling old..." he shouted upon exiting the floo, and was brought up short, the words dying on his lips, leaving him staring in dread.


With an expression of wry amusement on his face, Harry Potter, resplendent in his Auror robes, turned toward Severus and said, "Snape. How nice to see you again."


Even in his shock Severus didn't fail to notice the underlying hint of annoyance, and it made him wince inwardly. The hurt he felt coursing through him both surprised him and fueled his rage at Dumbledore. How different would things have been if he'd only known? He remained staring at Harry, aware he was gaping but unable to stop himself. He wasn't prepared for this encounter, not at all, and forced himself to close his mouth, his heart racing in his chest.


"Mr. P-P......H-Harry...." Severus forced out, straining to maintain an even keel to his voice. He felt as if he were seeing the young man for the very first time, looking at him through different eyes, with his newfound knowledge and it undid him more than a bit. He resisted the urge to throw himself at the young Auror's feet and beg his forgiveness for his past treatment of him. The detente they'd reached after the war was no longer enough. He wanted to know his son, and for his son to know his true father, but the thought of even beginning to tell him of their true relationship unnerved him to the point of trembling.


"Obviously you and Albus have something important to discuss," Harry said, with that same tinge of annoyance, and threw Severus a look to match his tone.


"We...we do indeed," Severus said hoarsely, then cleared his throat. Even now, after all these years, the wounds that damned filthy snake had bestowed upon him interfered with his command of his voice. The scar tissue he had been left with was thick and unyielding at times, his mended vocal chords straining at times, but for once he was glad to have the excuse in the absence of his own usually iron control. "However, it can wait. I am sorry to interrupt," he apologised, and fought down the urge to flee.


A slight frown creased Harry's face at the roughness of Severus' voice, and his expression softened minutely as he said, "It's alright, Severus. We were nearly finished anyway. I'll be going now."


Severus, old habits dying hard, felt the scowl return to his face at the note of sympathy in Harry's voice. His son or not, Severus did not want anyone's pity, not even Harry's. He struggled to school his expression into something less grim, and feeling he was only half-succeeding said, "By all means, Harry. Continue. I will return later."


"No, Professor, it's fine. Really," Harry said tiredly, "I have to get home for dinner at least one night this week, or Ginny will have my head." He turned toward Albus' portrait and said, "Sir. I'll see you in August then," turned back to Severus and said, "Professor," politely before brushing past on his way to the floo. Severus restrained the urge to reach out and grasp his arm.


Watching the green flames die back down in Harry's wake, Severus found all the fight had gone out of him momentarily, leaving him with a feeling of profound loss which was nearly grief. If only things had been different. If only he'd known.


Even as these thoughts swirled through his heart, his head knew better. Given the circumstances, it couldn't have been any other way, and deep down in his heart he knew this. Still, it didn't stop him from approaching the massive desk where his former mentor/tormentor had once sat, gazing up at his portrait, and saying reproachfully, "You should have told me sooner." He winced at the emotion in his own voice, and then again at the expression of pity the man in the portrait looked down upon him with.


"Severus, my boy," Albus said sorrowfully, "I did what I had to do, the best I could do, for all parties concerned, just as you yourself did. You know this, just as surely you know that neither of you could have accomplished what you did if you had known."


It was the unfairness of it all that made Severus' rage boil up inside again, and he slammed his fists onto the desk before him. "Why didn't you tell me then?!" he demanded, "why didn't you tell me I was betraying my own son! I begged you, Albus, on my knees, to save Lily and even then you didn't tell me! And you left him to the mercy of that wretch Petunia to be neglected and abused, and then you let me treat him......" Severus stopped, gasping, feeling a hot stinging behind his eyes. Viciously he forced the tears back, screaming up at the painted countenance above him, "How could you condemn him to a childhood like that?! How could you do that to an innocent child?! He didn't have to be The Chosen One, Albus, you damned him to that!"


"No, Severus," Albus said sadly, shaking his head, "again, that is where you are mistaken, my boy. Harry would have been The Chosen One no matter who raised him. He was the Dark Lord's vanquisher of prophecy. That fact is irrefutable. Lily and James were not the only ones to thrice defy the Dark Lord, Severus."


Severus was silent for a moment as he pondered his mentor's words. He wanted to be angry at Albus, to vent his rage at the unfairness of it all, to blame him for his own treatment of Harry when he was his student. He wanted to, but somewhere deep in his heart a tiny voice was saying that he couldn't. At least not entirely. He sighed deeply, suddenly feeling the effects of the alcohol he'd consumed earlier. Feeling old and tired and more worn and used than he ever had before.


Again cringing inwardly at the plaintiveness he heard in his own voice, he looked up and beseeched the portrait, "Why, Albus? Why tell me this now? Even if this friendship you speak of actually is more, what do you expect me to do about it? You couldn't have manipulated this issue as you've done every other and for once left me in peace?" As he spoke he felt some of his anger and hurt at the unfairness of it all seep back. "What good can come of telling me this now?! It is too late to change what has already been done! Why tell me now, Albus, now that it is too late for me to know the son I never knew I had?!! Damn you, old man! How do you expect me to ever again have peace knowing that Harry Potter is my son, and there is nothing I can do about it?!?!" he shouted, once again slamming his fists on the desk before him.


"Of course there is something you can do about it, my boy," Dumbledore said, seemingly unperturbed at Severus' outburst.


Severus stared up at the oil rendered visage of the man he had both loved and hated with all his being, incredulous. Surely........


"Have you completely lost your mind?!" he howled, outraged. "How can I possibly tell him something like this?! How can I tell him that everything he ever knew about himself is a complete fabrication?! In case you've forgotten, Albus, he hates me, justifiably I may add, and you wish me to give him even more reason to do so?!?"


"Have I not entreated you repeatedly over the years to make your peace with Harry, Severus?" the infuriating old man sighed down at Severus reproachfully, shaking his head for good measure. Severus, however was undaunted, but before he could snarl out the reply he'd intended, his mentor added, "Nonetheless, Harry does not hate you, Severus. Quite the opposite, as a matter of fact. He admires you greatly, justifiably I might add, for your extraordinary bravery during the war. I know that you and he have come to an understanding concerning those events. An accord of sorts has been reached between you. It is now up to you, my boy, to further that accord and establish a real relationship with him."


"And just exactly how do you propose I do that, Albus?" Severus sneered. "Perhaps I should invite him to tea and Sunday dinner at Spinner's End, where we can reminisce fondly over my abominable treatment of him when he was my student, and whilst we are having a good laugh over that, I'll just nonchalantly drop my little bombshell. Oh yes, I can see it now. "By the way, Harry, not only was I an utter bastard to you, I thought you should know, I'm your father." Do you think he'll welcome me with open arms, Albus? Hmm?"


"My suggestion would be that you curtail some of that infamous sarcasm, and try befriending the boy before you apprise him of your familial connection," the portrait above him said dryly. "And, as it so happens, the perfect opportunity for such a venture has presented itself," he added.


Severus cringed inwardly, noting that the god-be-damned twinkle had returned to the painted eyes; loathed as much now, rendered in oil, as it had been in life. "Of course it has," he muttered darkly, and braced himself.


"As it happens," Albus cheerfully repeated, "Harry has consented to join us in the coming new school year as our new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor..."


Severus stopped his pacing, wheeling around to stare up at his former employer in surprise. "But....what about the Auror Office?" he demanded, "he was Kingsley's "Chosen One" as well." Severus couldn't help the streak of pride that he felt over that fact. The youngest auror ever; Harry had been given special dispensation by Shacklebolt to join the Aurors and forego a good amount of the training. Harry had worked hard, however, to be seen as just another of the troup, allowing no further special treatment, often volunteering to take on the most thankless of assignments, and had gradually worked his way up to Head Auror. Severus couldn't believe he would give all that up to take on the even more thankless job of trying to drill some knowledge into the empty heads of the Wizarding World's spawn.


"And, pray tell, Albus, how did you manage to talk him out of his Auror robes and into the dreary robes of professorship?" Severus sneered.


"It was not of my doing, Severus" Albus replied, "Harry approached Minerva about the vacant position himself. It seems he's had a change of heart about his occupation. An epiphany, I believe it is called."


Severus glared up at Albus' serene expression and wished it were possible to perform Legilimens on a portrait. Harry loved being an Auror, Severus knew this to be true; the boy had never made a secret of the fact. What could possibly have happened to drive him from his dream job? Especially now, that he'd attained the top spot? "What happened to him?" Severus demanded, feeling a twinge of dread shoot through him.


"I think perhaps that is best left for Harry himself to share with you, if he so wishes," Albus said lightly, infuriating Severus even more. He clenched his teeth in an effort to quell the urge to rip the portrait from the wall and threaten its denizen with the fireplace.


Severus mentally counted to ten, took a deep breath and growled, "Very well, Albus. I see that pursuing that particular avenue of conversation is pointless. Even though I am, as you've finally seen fit to confide, the boy's father."


Dumbledore chuckled and Severus scowled to see his ploy hadn't worked. Wily old bastard! he thought viciously.


"Harry will be joining us as Defense Against the Dark Arts professor," Albus repeated, "which presents the perfect opportunity for you to mend past transgressions and begin to build a friendship, if not deeper relationship with him, Severus." The former Headmaster peered down over his spectacles at him, and Severus couldn't help but feel it wasn't meant as a suggestion, although he still didn't understand what the old fool was on about exactly.


"And how do you come to that, Albus?" Severus frowned warily. Somehow he knew he wasn't going to like what was coming next.


"Alas," Dumbledore chuckled once again, "we once again find ourselves short of staff. Horace Slughorn has decided to once again close the curtains on his teaching career and we are without a Potions professor for the coming new term."


Outraged all over again, Severus stared incredulously up at his former employer. Surely he dare not suggest...


"Fortunately, Severus," Albus continued blithely, "I have been able to suggest an excellent replacement for....."


"No!" Severus shouted, his fury reaching the boiling point once again. "Do not even entertain giving voice to that insanity, Albus! It is absolutely out of the question!"


"Now Severus, surely..." Dumbledore began placatingly.


"Surely you cannot be serious!" Severus exploded. "I gave over 15 years of my life to trying, futilely I might add, to instill knowledge into the tiny minds and empty heads of future generations of wizarding spawn, only to be frustrated at every turn by their complete inability to comprehend even the most basic of instructions! I have been doused in more vile concoctions, stained and scourged by the most foul of brews, and nearly blown up more times than I care to remember, and I will not subject myself to that brand of hell again! Not for Minerva, not for the good of wizarding-kind, not even for you, you mad old bastard! There is nothing and nobody who could ever again induce me to abandon all good sense and return to the Gehenna* of teaching!"


Severus paused to catch his breath, and drew himself up to his full height, donning his most fierce scowl. "Goodbye Albus," he said grimly and spun on his heel, stalking toward the floo. He intended on returning to his quiet little hovel, with a quick sidetrip to Diagon Alley for more liquid supplies, and drinking his retirement away in peace, never darkening Albus' door again.


"Severus?" the damned portait queried from behind him, but Severus would not be thwarted.


"Save your breath, Albus," Severus snapped over his shoulder, "nothing you can conjure up will change my mind."


"Not even your grandsons, Severus?" Dumbledore asked quietly, making the black clad man falter in his tracks. "Think of all you have missed already, my boy. Surely now that you are aware you do indeed have a family, you would not want to let the chance to truly know them slip through your fingers?"


Severus stiffened at the man's words, but did not turn around. Grandsons. I have grandchildren. A whole family. He hadn't considered that Harry, his son, had sons of his own. And a daughter as well. My granddaughter. Severus thought of his shock upon seeing Harry standing here in the Head's office, and the accompanying emotions that had stirred in him. He swallowed hard, there suddenly seemed to be a rather large lump in his throat, and gusted out a heavy breath. He closed his eyes and tried to get a grip on himself, telling himself that what they didn't know couldn't hurt them. That Dumbledore was the same old manipulating bastard he'd always been, and that no good could possibly come from dropping this bombshell on everybody at this point.


He took a deep breath, bracing himself against whatever else the painted version of his old tormentor would spew, continued on his course, and flooed away.


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Minerva sighed, taking off her spectacles and leaning back in her chair to rub her tired eyes. "I, for one, will be extremely happy to have Harry with us in autumn," she commented to the room at large, "and hopefully he will be able to rein his son in some. I'm afraid James Potter is taking after his namesake in a rather spectacular fashion." She sighed again and added grimly, "'Thank goodness Harry hasn't seen fit to give him that blasted Invisibility Cloak. I shudder to think of the mischief he'd get up to then."


"Why Minerva," Albus chided gently, "surely you are not disparaging one of your Gryffindors? Has your soft spot for your Maruaders hardened then?"


"I was much younger then, Albus," Minerva said sharply, "and at any rate, I did not have the added burden of trying to locate staff replacements at the last possible minute. Damn Horace Slughorn!" she fretted, "and damn you as well, Albus Dumbledore! I thought you said.....Oh!!"


She was startled by the noisy arrival of a rather large and fierce looking owl at the small window to the right of her desk. It lifted a leg and scritched its talons at the glass impatiently, a disapproving look in its large round eyes. Minerva retrieved the rolled parchment it carried, offering an owl treat which was ignored, with an irritated ruffle of feathers, before it gave a haughty hoot and flapped off.

She sank into her chair once again, unfurling the parchment to reveal the message scrawled out in a spidery hand, and looked up at Dumbledore's portrait, a confused frown on her face. "Albus?" she questioned, holding the missive up for him to see.


I hate you, Old Man


Albus began to chuckle, to Minerva's consternation, and said, eyes twinkling, "It seems we've found our new Potions Master, my dear."


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*Gehenna-- (as defined by dictionary.com) Any place of extreme torment or suffering.


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