17

Chapter 17: Unanswered Questions

Nathan sat in one of the armchairs in the Headmistress' office. As part of his plan, he'd looked for Professor McGonagall, pretending to be interested in applying for one of the positions as Filch's assistant.

"So, Mr. Granger, do you understand what it means to be a Hogwarts assistant? It's no easy job," the Headmistress pointed out after a boring explanation of the assistant duties.

"I do, Headmistress," he answered dutifully, wanting to know why it was taking so long for someone to call her out. What is going on with Kevin and Andy? he thought in apprehension.

And it was as if they had heard his thoughts.

"Headmistress," a portrait of a chubby wizard called from behind her. "I think you should go to the dungeons."

"Is it Peeves?" she asked, resigned.

"I'm afraid not. It's a bunch of those fireworks; those colorful snakes," the portrait told her, "and they're multiplying fast."

McGonagall sighed. "Mr. Granger, I'm sorry but this will have to wait," she said, dismissing him.

"Oh, I could wait here until you come back, Professor," he said, keeping his part of the plan on track. "If you don't mind, that is."

She looked at him for a while, deliberating his offer, and then nodded. "I'll be back shortly."

Nathan watched her go, and as soon as she'd closed the door, he looked around at the many portraits hanging in the room and said urgently, "I need to speak with Albus Dumbledore."

"Oh, what a brat!" spat a wizard with a large mustache and blue hat. "You're behind the fireworks, aren't you?"

Nathan ignored that accusation and the others that followed, and searched the wall for the wizard he'd seen only in chocolate frog cards and old wizarding pictures.

"I'm over here," said a calm voice to his right. "Mr. Granger, isn't it?"

"Yes, sir," he answered and crossed the room to stand in front of Albus Dumbledore's frame. "I wish to ask you about a wizard you used to know," he said.

"What you have to ask must be very important. A fireworks attack is not a light diversion," Dumbledore said, amused.

Nathan fidgeted under the scrutiny of the portrait's twinkling eyes. "I… You knew Professor Snape very well, didn't you, sir?" he asked nervously.

"Yes, I did," Albus answered slowly.

"He… well, I know that…" Why was it so hard just to say it? "He, you know…"

"Yes, child, he killed me," Dumbledore finished for him. "But only because he had no choice," he added, watching Nathan intently. "There are situations in a war when some sacrifices must be made."

"Did you forgive him, sir?"

"There was nothing to forgive." Dumbledore stroked his painted beard. "But you knew that already, else you wouldn't be here. What is it that you don't know?"

Nathan realized with those words that it would be much harder to get what he needed from this old wizard in the portrait than he thought. He had hoped that the late Headmaster would have regrets concerning Snape, and would be willing to share some sordid secrets from the Potions master's past. He still thought it was worth the try, and so he optioned for the direct approach, since he didn't have much time before the Headmistress would return.

"He knows something of great importance to me, but he won't tell me. I thought that maybe you could help me," Nathan explained. "I need information I could use in exchange for what he knows. Something he wouldn't want the whole school to know."

That was it! He was appealing to this wizard's desire for revenge.

Dumbledore observed Nathan with even more interest now. "You're much more like your father than I imagined at first. What you ask of me is for help in blackmailing Professor Snape. Not an everyday occurrence."

Nathan's eyes glittered after the first part of the portrait's speech. "How am I more like my father, sir?"

Dumbledore wouldn't be baited that easily, but could see the opportunity that this conversation roused. "You're more willing to have what you want, not concerning yourself with how you'll get it. Your father had it, too, and it was one of the traits I admired in him…" He paused. "…but only when fighting for the right things."

Nathan was hypnotized by the wizard in the canvas. Dumbledore had said more about his father than any other one person ever had. "Were you friends?"

"I like to think we still are," Dumbledore answered with a light smile on his painted mouth. "But I thought you wanted to talk about Professor Snape," he said, arching an eyebrow.

Nathan had completely lost his interest in the Potions master. He was now much more interested in what the great Albus Dumbledore had to say about his father. "No, it's fine. I understand that you don't want to talk about him, sir," he dismissed the old subject. "We can keep talking about my father, if you prefer…" And you could start by telling his name, he wanted to add.

Dumbledore was amused. "I don't think that would be possible, but you might want to know that blackmailing Professor Snape won't get him to cooperate with you, young one. He might tell you who your father is if you gain his respect and friendship."

Nathan frowned. Had he mentioned what information his Potions professor was withholding? He didn't think so. How had the portrait known, then? "I never told you what information I wanted from Professor Snape."

"No, you didn't."

Nathan was even more confused. "How did you know, then?"

"I know a great many things. I know that Basilisks are color blind, that there are one thousand two hundred and seventy four flavors of Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans, and that the Headmistress hides lemon drops in the first drawer of her desk. Why don't you take some while she's not here?" Dumbledore said, winking mischievously and nodding his head in the general direction of the desk.

Nathan's frown deepened. He glanced at the desk, shook his head to organize his thoughts, and looked back at the portrait.

Before Nathan could say anything, Dumbledore did. "Too late," he said, and noises could be heard coming from the other side of the door, gaining Nathan's attention. "You'll find the answer to your questions when you stop looking for them. All you need is within you," Dumbledore added, his eyes twinkling.

Nathan blinked to the portrait in thought. What does he mean? He didn't have time to think or ask anything else, though. He went quickly back to the armchair he had been sitting in before the Headmistress left and feigned boredom as if he'd stayed in that position the whole time.

McGonagall walked to her desk, took her seat and sighed. "Where were we, Mr. Granger?" she asked, somewhat rhetorically. "Ah, yes. The assistant duties. Well-"

"Headmistress, while you were out, I had some time to think of everything you've said, and I believe I'm not ready for the responsibility of being a Hogwarts assistant right now. I appreciate your time, ma'am. I know you're very busy." Her confusion showed in her face. "Thank you, ma'am," Nathan added, rising from his seat and quickly leaving the office.

When the door closed behind him, his confusion was once again clearly visible on his face. Stop looking for the answers? All he needs is within him? What was that crazy portrait talking about? And that was the famous Albus Dumbledore? he thought. Not very helpful.

He descended the spiral staircase, and as he walked back to Gryffindor tower, some of the other things he had learnt that afternoon came back into his mind. I'm like my father. Nathan smiled. He didn't know his father yet, but now he knew more about him than ever before. He fights for what he wants, and so do I.

Immersed in thoughts of the knowledge he'd gained from Dumbledore, he entered the common room to meet his rule-breaking friends, who demanded a full recount of his conversation with the portrait.

"So what you're saying is that he didn't say anything, either," Kevin concluded after Nathan was finished.

"I'm not sure. He might have said something useful, in a cryptic way. That was the most confusing conversation I have ever had, and that's saying something," Nathan confessed.

"Well, you'll add it to the files, right?" Andy asked.

"Yes, of course," Nathan assured him. "In fact, I'll do that right now. I don't want to forget anything that portrait said, absurd as it might have sounded."

Nathan left the common room and went up the stairs to the dormitories. He settled on his bed, taking two rolls of parchment from his bookbag. The first was the one Andy had mentioned: the Snape files. It was where Nathan kept track of the information he thought relevant about the professor. The second one, which the others didn't know he kept, was the one he called the Dad files.

The second parchment had precious little information. In the first column was a list of names entitled People who know, to which Nathan added Albus Dumbledore. Besides that, it had only one other reference under a column Clues: Professor Lupin mentioned the days he was a student.

Nathan had started taking notes about what he knew of his father after the conversation he had overheard between his mother and the Defense teacher. Now, he had more items to add. The portrait of Albus Dumbledore had told him he had been friends with his father. Still is, Nathan added mentally. He also knew that his father was a determined man, who didn't give up on the things he wanted. Just like me, he thought, smiling.

He kept making notes of bits of his conversation with Dumbledore, and after re-reading both parchments, he realized he still didn't have what he needed to find out who his father was, or to get the information from Professor Snape. He sighed and lay down on his bed. Observing the red and gold pattern of his bed's curtain, Nathan thought about the last thing the portrait had said, trying to figure out what he meant by all you need is within you.

Remus was deep in thought after what he had seen and heard that day last weekend in the dungeons. He had gone there looking for a confirmation of his suspicions about Nathan's heritage, and he had got said confirmation and much more. He had watched Nathan's rage, Severus' stubbornness and Hermione's helplessness, and he had listened to her explanations and lamentations.

Hermione had told him she had kept Nathan a secret from Severus, and Severus a secret from everyone else, including Nathan. At that point, Remus had started to understand Severus' reactions to the boy, and his actions that day in the dungeons, but after having some time to think, Remus was now left with more questions than answers.

From time to time, Nathan's secret father was a subject of discussion among the Potters, the Weasleys and other members of the dormant Order of the Phoenix. In the beginning, when they had first discovered Hermione's pregnancy, there was commotion from some and indignation from others. When she had stated that the identity of the father was of no one's business but her own, the reactions were even stronger. Ron had demanded she tell them the name of the wizard who had done that to her; Minerva had asked Hermione to confide in them, but the calmest, yet most worrisome reaction, was that of Harry. The savior of the wizarding world had a cold look in his eyes, a look that betrayed the power behind his young, innocent features, and it was something Remus had seen only a few times and hoped to never see again.

Hermione had been calmer than usual and had told them that nothing would change her mind. More protests followed that statement, but died when Harry decided to speak. He'd approached Hermione and said, "If you're so keen to protect him from us, you better protect him well," and then left the room. With time, everything had gone back to normal. Nathan was born, Harry was called to be his godfather, and the identity of the father remained hidden.

Well, that wasn't true. Remus knew Severus was Nathan's father now, and more unanswered questions floated in his mind. Why did Hermione keep Nathan from Severus? Why did nobody know of their relationship back then, or until now? And now that Severus knew, why didn't they reveal the truth to Nathan? Keeping it from Harry and Ron was understandable – they had never liked Snape – but from Nathan… It could only be due to Severus' stubbornness, because Remus was certain that Hermione would want to reveal her – their – secret to the boy. He was sure that she knew of the admiration Nathan held for Severus – or had held in the past, since Remus didn't know what the boy thought of the Potions master anymore.

What he did know was the boy's efforts to win Severus' praise had been tireless. Remus could remember the day he'd found Nathan upset in the dungeons for being dismissed without acknowledgement of his good work in the classroom. But his observations of Nathan since then had shown that things might have changed. They spent a month of detentions together after all. What had happened in those detentions? He didn't know…

Remus recalled their last talk about the stubborn man, though. Nathan had looked for him in his office, asking for an explanation of Severus' behavior. Why would Nathan still want to understand Severus, anyway? Did the boy suspect something? No, he didn't. Not after what he had said to Hermione that day. It could only be the boy's desire to win the praise of the most difficult teacher, just like his mother when she had been a student. He smiled with the memory, but the smile soon became a sad, longing expression; he would never see the image of himself or Tonks in any child.

Remus entered the Great Hall by a side door, greeted those already there, and took his seat for lunch. He ran his eyes over the four tables ahead, taking more time to observe his Gryffindors. There was nothing unusual, and it remained like that until most of the students had finished their meals.

It was then a movement of Slytherin first-years, lead by Devon Malfoy, could be seen approaching the main doors at the same time as a group of Gryffindor first-years, Nathan among them. From where he was at the Head Table, Remus couldn't hear what Devon was saying, but he heard the laugher of his companions.

Another comment by Devon was followed by more laughter, and Remus saw Nathan turn to face the Slytherin. He was on his feet in a beat, and he saw Severus doing the same. On his way to the growing circle of students that now surrounded the group, he heard Nathan's furious demand, "Take it back, Malfoy! Take it back!"

By the time he actually reached the center of the confusion, Severus was already holding a furious Nathan, who had jumped to physically attack Devon. The Slytherin held a hand up to shield his face, eyes wild with surprise, fear, and disbelief. It was clear that Devon had never been attacked the Muggle way.

"Mr. Granger, this is unacceptable!" hissed Severus. "Ten points from Gryffindor and a detention!"

"What about him? Won't he be punished, too?" Nathan asked, pointing at Devon. "He started it! He insulted my Mum!"

"How can I be blamed? I can't help if she doesn't know who your father is," Devon retorted, coming out of his shock to defend himself.

"Shut up, Malfoy!" Nathan snapped.

"Enough!" hissed Severus. The man was still holding his son by the arm.

Remus observed the scene, suddenly lost for words. How can Severus watch this and not react, not tell Nathan he is his father? he thought.

"Make yourself useful, Lupin!" barked Severus.

"Ten points from Slytherin and a detention, Devon," he stated then, looking pointedly at Severus, who narrowed his eyes. "Now, now. The show is over, go to your classes," Remus added to the crowd around them, and they started to move.

"Mr. Granger, in spite of what Mr. Malfoy has said or done, this Muggle behavior will not be tolerated," Severus said, looking directly into Nathan's shiny eyes. The boy didn't flinch or show any sign of acknowledgement.

Remus wanted to smirk at the boy's attitude. Even threatened physically – Severus still held the boy's arm – and verbally by the dreaded Potions master, he didn't show any sign of fear or resignation.

"Do you understand me?" Severus asked.

Again, without averting his determined gaze from Severus', Nathan answered, "Yes, sir. Can I go, now?"

Severus released Nathan's arm. "Not yet," he answered. "Mr. Malfoy, the next time I see you engaging in a fight, I won't need a Gryffindor to take points from Slytherin. Is that clear?"

"But Uncle Sev-" Devon started to argue, only to be interrupted by his godfather.

"It's Professor Snape, Mr. Malfoy," Severus hissed, "and I asked you a direct question."

The blond boy lowered his head and murmured, "Yes, sir."

Remus observed the frowning boy by Severus' side. He hadn't missed Devon's slip of the tongue, either. "Devon, be in my office at seven." The boy nodded, raising his hand to his jaw again. "Do you need to see Madam Pomfrey?"

"No, sir," Devon murmured.

When Remus took his eyes from Devon, he saw Nathan observing the blond boy with a smug expression in his face. "What Professor Snape said goes for you, too, Nathan. If I see you in a fight again, Gryffindor will lose more points than it lost today." His words had the intended effect, and the smirk was gone from Nathan's face.

"I'll see you in my classroom at seven, Mr. Granger," Severus said, turning to leave the Great Hall. Not turning back, he added, "Don't be late." Remus saw Nathan roll his eyes.

"Go to your classes," he dismissed the boys, and when he was sure they would indeed avoid one another, Remus left for the dungeons.

He knocked at the door to the Potions master's office, but didn't wait the answer. He opened the door, stepped in and closed it behind him, and met the narrowed black eyes of the man across the room. "I don't understand how you can see Nathan's distress over this and do nothing," he began. "Merlin knows! If I could have a child and it happened to be a son, I would want him to be just like Nathan. I would be so proud that I would want the world to know he was mine… and you are Nathan's father. You have the right to say that wonderful boy is yours, but you choose otherwise, even knowing you're making his life more difficult because of this ridiculous decision."

Severus' expression didn't change throughout Remus rant; it was the same cold, blank one he often used. "Have you finished?" he asked, lifting an eyebrow in annoyance. "I have a class in ten minutes."

Remus sighed and shook his head. "I know you can see it, Severus. I hope you can set your stubbornness aside in time." He turned and left the office.

Severus sighed as soon as the door closed. What Lupin didn't understand was that this was best for Nathan. He didn't need to know Severus was his father, even with Devon taunting him. It was just a phase, and Nathan would soon forget all about it and see he didn't need a father.

"Enter," Severus answered the knock on the door of the Potions classroom.

"Good evening, sir," Nathan greeted, closing the door behind him and walking to the front of the room.

"Cauldrons, Mr. Granger. You know the procedure, no magic. I don't think you will have any complaints after your Muggle display earlier today."

Snape was right. Nathan didn't complain and went mutely to the cauldrons. He started to scrub them and Severus continued to work on the essays.

From time to time, Severus lifted his eyes from the pile of nonsense the third-years insisted on writing to observe his son. He could see Nathan was really determined to finish his task as soon as possible. Good, he thought.

He heard the boy shelve the first cleaned cauldron and looked up from the essays again. The boy looked at him, and they locked eyes while Nathan walked back to the workbench where the second filthy cauldron of the evening awaited him. Not a word or a lifted eyebrow; nothing.

Although Snape was interpreting this lack of interaction as a good thing, he wouldn't be honest with himself if he said he didn't miss Nathan's pointed looks, staring contests, and witty answers ever-present during the month of detentions they had shared. His boy was a puzzle, and this quiet, down-to-business version of him was a piece Snape hadn't seen before.

Nathan had been so close to finding out the truth when he had eavesdropped on Lupin and Hermione in his office last weekend. What if he hadn't arrived in time? Nathan would know he was his father, and...

Severus watched Nathan work and contemplated what could have happen then, like he'd done so many times before. What would Nathan's reaction have been? His rational self insisted that the boy would have hated him even more than he did already, but he couldn't be sure. What if, against all odds, Nathan… No, he couldn't hope for that. Severus knew better than to think someone would willingly accept him as part of their life.

And then his thoughts betrayed him with the image of Hermione Granger. She had somehow willingly accepted him in her life when she raised his son. Try as he might, he couldn't understand that. Besides, she even thought Nathan would accept him into his life, too… that he would even like to know he was his father. She of all people knew what he was capable of, and yet she kept saying things to encourage him to reveal himself to Nathan, to be part of his son's life. Why now? Why not before, when Nathan was younger? Because she is aware of the danger you are, he answered himself. But if that was true, why would she want to tell the boy now? Nathan was eleven, living in a boarding school; he wouldn't need his parents for much longer. When he left Hogwarts he would be a young man, with his own life to build. He wouldn't need a father anymore.

He concentrated on his task of marking essays again, shoving those thoughts aside, as he often did now. Not too long after that, Snape felt Nathan's eyes on him. He didn't take his own eyes off the essays, though. Some time passed, and he felt those black eyes on him again, but once more pretended he didn't notice. He couldn't ignore the boy's looks anymore, though, when Nathan seemed more interested in observing him than cleaning the cauldron. "Your task is the cauldron, Mr. Granger. Try to pay attention to it," he said, not taking his eyes from the parchment he was reading.

How did he do that? Nathan thought, looking to the cauldron now. I'm sure he didn't look up from whatever he's marking, not even once since I started the second cauldron. Nathan had always been impressed with Professor Snape's awareness of his surroundings, even though he knew of the man's past as a spy.

Nathan had thought he could use this detention to watch Professor Snape, in a last hope to find something to add to his research of the man. The more he knew about the Potions master, the more he was intrigued by him.

He continued cleaning the cauldron, going through all the information he had gathered on the wizard up until now. None of the sordid things he knew about Professor Snape's past wasn't common knowledge. He frowned, remembering what he'd read the night before about the Potions master's role in the war. Most of it he knew already, but some of the information had been new and not a pleasant surprise. He'd learned of the crimes Professor Snape had been accused of committing, and although he knew his teacher had killed people, he always believed it had been in self-defense or on someone else's orders, like his mother had told him. It was much like what his godfather and hero of the wizarding world had done. But learning his professor had tortured and killed people of his own free will had been disturbing. Nathan didn't fear the wizard sitting at the desk in the front of him, but he mused on the reasons someone like him, with so many skills and such intelligence, would have felt the need to commit those crimes.

Nathan didn't realize he'd stopped scrubbing the cauldron until Professor Snape's voice startled him from his thoughts. "I don't hear you working, Mr. Granger."

Nathan mechanically restarted his movements, shoving those thoughts away for now. He quickly finished his task and left the dungeons.

The library was quiet that evening. It was close to curfew and few students were still working there, mostly Ravenclaws. In a corridor between high shelves, Nathan stood distracted, reading from a tome about star charts for his Astronomy essay, when the pale light coming from one of the lanterns was blocked by a shadow. Before he could react, his arms were clasped by strong hands. Not even the noise of the book hitting the stone floor alarmed the others to his predicament. The boys holding him didn't give him choice, but he struggled to be released and reach for his wand anyway. "Let me go!"

"I told you were messing with the wrong wizard, Granger," Malfoy said, surging from behind his minions.

"What do you want from me?" Nathan asked, still trying to break free.

"I'm here to make you pay for what you did in the Great Hall," Devon answered, folding back one sleeve of his robes.

Nathan increased his efforts to free himself. "And you need two muscle mounts to help you?" The grip on his arms tightened. "I thought you were better than this." He baited the Slytherin, but without success.

Devon laughed. "Did you think I would come for you unprepared? I'm not a stupid Gryffindor." He approached Nathan. "Now you'll learn not to mess with a Malfoy."

The punch hit Nathan square in the jaw. It stung, but he didn't utter a sound. Malfoy seemed disappointed with his lack of reaction to the aggression and hit him again, harder. This time the blow caught his face just below his left eye, and a gasp left his mouth at the pain he now felt. Devon took Nathan's jaw in his hand and looked him in the eyes, smirking.

"I think you've learned your lesson, Granger." He released Nathan's face, and started searching his captive's robes. When he found Nathan's wand, he took it and said to his companions, "Let the worm go."

Nathan, now wandless, knew he didn't hold a chance against the Slytherins. He just watched the boys walk away towards the door of the library and saw when Malfoy dropped his wand, turning to say in a sing-song voice, "Sleep well, Granger." They left, laughing.

Nathan narrowed his eyes, but it hurt to do that. He took a hand to his face, flinching from his own touch; he could fell the swelling already. He closed his eyes and sighed; he would have a bruise. Nathan picked the book up from the ground and shelved it, walked to where his wand was, picked it up, and went to the table where his things were. He collected them and left the library.

He headed to the common room, but then thought better of going inside. He knew his face was bruised and he didn't want to deal with his friends right now. He kept walking and before he realized where he was going, he found himself staring out that big window on one of the higher floors, focusing on the distant lights of Hogsmeade.

He was still angry with what had happened in the library. Not because he had been beaten; it hadn't been the first time he'd evoked the ire of someone, had ended up in a fight and had gotten the worst of it. He was angry because this would make his life even more unbearable than it was already. Malfoy would gloat over his triumph as part of his payback, and his friends would pity him even more when they saw the bruise on his face… When would this be over?

No, he could deal with the stinging pain burning his face. Stronger than the pain was his feeling of helplessness and loneliness. No one knew what it was like to receive strange looks from people you didn't even know; how it was to have people like Malfoy making snide remarks about your family every single day and do and say nothing in return; how frustrating it was to try to finally do something about it, only for it not to succeed.

Suddenly, it was hard to breathe past the lump forming in his throat, and his vision of the shiny lights in the distant village blurred with what he knew were tears. He closed his eyes and let them fall. He felt so lonely. He wanted his mother's arms around him, and thinking of her brought a new batch of tears to his eyes. He missed her so much. She was the only one who cared for him, and if she was here now, he wouldn't give a second thought to his tantrum and would hug her with all his strength. But she wasn't there and he hugged himself instead, whimpering.

Entering the poorly lit hall was Severus Snape. He'd been surveying the school for students out after curfew, and there one was, the third tonight. He quietly moved closer, until he made out who the student was and halted his approach – it was his son. What was he doing out past curfew again? He opened his mouth to snap at the boy and his insistence on breaking the school rules, but his words were lost when he heard Nathan's snivels – the boy was crying. Great, he thought, annoyed, but in his heart he wanted to know what had made his boy cry. Thoughts of his own first year at Hogwarts invaded his mind. Boys taunting him, worry for his mother alone with his abusive father, lack of friends, days and nights of wandering the halls alone. Severus frowned, biter feelings reaching his heart.

"Enjoying the view?" Severus asked, startling the boy. "It's past curfew, Mr. Granger – something I'm sure you know already."

Nathan wiped his aching eyes and his running nose with the sleeve of his robe. Why is it always Professor Snape? he thought.

"You're becoming quite predictable, Mr. Granger. Tell me, why are you up here, sniveling?" He emphasized the last word. When no answer was coming, he demanded, "Look at me."

Nathan hesitated.

"Look at me, Mr. Granger," Severus repeated more annoyed.

Nathan complied. Severus was taken aback by the purple bruise under his son's left eye, visible even in the weak light. Pulling out his wand, he lit its tip with a murmured Lumos and brought the bluish light closer to his son's face. Taking his other hand to tilt the boy's head higher, he asked quietly, "Who did this?"

Nathan pondered on whether to tell the truth or not. Professor Snape wouldn't punish Malfoy; he'd seen the closeness they had when his aggressor had addressed their professor much like Nathan did Harry and Ron.

Severus could see the indecision in Nathan's eyes. He didn't need three chances to guess who had beaten him, and the boy's hesitation was unnerving. Is he afraid of Malfoy, now? Or is he afraid of me? Is he going to become shy and start sniveling again? Severus wouldn't allow that.

"I've asked you a simple question. Who. Did. This?" he said with more force in his voice.

"It doesn't matter, sir. I don't have proof and you won't punish him without it," Nathan said evenly.

"You don't know what I will or will not do, boy," Severus spat, annoyed. "It had never occurred to me that you were one of those few cowardly Gryffindors," he said, watching his son's eyes change in the light, "but then again, they do show up from time to time." He made a dismissive gesture, and continued, "You're also sniveling around the castle quite often. Maybe the Sorting Hat had made its first mistake in centuries; you should have been in Hufflepuff."

"I'm not a coward," Nathan strongly affirmed, "sir."

Severus could see his son's red-rimmed eyes flash with the feelings his words invoked, as intended. Gryffindors are so easy to bait, he thought, amused.

"So tell me who did this to you, and I'll give you the benefit of the doubt," Severus said, arching an eyebrow.

"You know quite well who did this, sir. And he had the help of two other Slytherins."

"This half declaration is not the best argument to contradict my suppositions, Mr. Granger, but I think it's all your courage allows." Nathan's eyes were bright with anger under his wand light. "Come with me."

He turned and Nathan followed. They walked in silence for a while, until the boy spoke again. "This is not the way to my common room, sir."

"No, it's not." When he heard his son's intake of air to undoubtedly ask of their destination, he elaborated, "I'm taking you to Madam Pomfrey. She'll take care of this ugly bruise before I escort you to Gryffindor."

Nothing was said during the remainder of their walk to the Hospital Wing. They entered the empty ward, and Severus said, "Stay here," and left to fetch the mediwitch.

She surged from a small door, closing her dressing gown. Severus came just behind. She asked Nathan to sit on one of the beds. "Oh, dear boy!" she exclaimed when she saw Nathan's injury. "What happened?" Nathan didn't answer, and Severus watched him intently.

Madam Pomfrey cast several spells on the boy to be sure that was the only wound, and only when she seemed satisfied with her diagnoses did she bring out the healing salve. "I'll apply this to the wound and it will take from ten to fifteen minutes to absorb and do its job. Once done, you won't feel any pain and no bruise will be seen," she explained, and proceeded to rub the salve on Nathan's face.

Nathan flinched with the first touch, hissing his pain, but didn't protest further. Severus stood at the mediwitch's side, observing the procedure. She finished the application of the yellowish medicine, and addressed the man, "Will you be accompanying him to his common room, Severus?"

Snape nodded.

"I'll retire, then. Try to catch who did this to the boy," she added, aggravated, and left the ward.

There was a heavy silence in the air. Nathan had his hands clasped in his lap, his head down, staring unseeing to the floor. Severus' eyes never left his son, and seeing him this down was making him uneasy.

"Let me see if the salve is absorbing," Severus said quietly. Nathan looked up; his eyes still a little red from his crying earlier. "You shouldn't cry in the halls where others can see you," Severus caught himself saying. "You don't want people calling you a sniveling boy, believe me," he mumbled, the word Snivellus coming to mind in the voice of a Marauder.

Nathan stared at his professor, confused. Severus felt awkward already for saying those few words of advice, and didn't like the way the boy was looking at him. He raised his voice and said, "Let's get going, I have more important things to do than baby-sit Gryffindors." He was in control again.

Nathan frowned. Just for a moment, Professor Snape had seemed almost nice, but in another he was back to saying how much of a burden Nathan was. He stood from the bed and started walking to the door behind his professor.

The fire turned green, calling Hermione's attention. A head with messy raven hair appeared.

"Hermione? Are you home?"

She stood from her desk where she was grading essays, and stepped in front of the hearth, into Harry's sight range. "I am, Harry."

"Can I step through, or are you too busy?"

"No, no. Come in." Hermione waited until her friend was fully in her living room. "How are you?"

"I'm fine, just fine," Harry answered, brushing ash from his dark blue robes. They hugged. "What about you? Too much work, I see," he said, pointing to the pile of papers on her desk.

"End of term is always a busy time for teachers. How are Ginny and the kids?" Hermione asked.

"They're great. The kids are all excited with Christmas coming, and that's why I'm here. We want you and Nathan to spend Christmas with us. The whole Weasley clan confirmed already. Remus and Tonks should come, too. Now, to complete the family meeting, it's only you and Nathan left," Harry said, smiling.

Hermione smiled sadly. "I don't know if we'll be good company."

Harry frowned. "What are you talking about, Hermione?"

"Nathan isn't talking with me right now, and I don't know if we'll be on good terms again by Christmas."

"He's not talking with you? How did that happen?" he asked, confused.

"We had a fight, a bad one," she said, averting her eyes from the wizard in front of her.

"Was it about his father?" Harry asked, knowing the answer already.

Hermione sighed. "Yes," she said simply, and sat on the couch.

Harry followed, watching her intently.

"I know what you're thinking, but I can't tell him yet. I wish things weren't this complicated," she murmured, her eyes fixed on the crackling fire.

"Did you explain this to him?"

"Yes," she answered impatiently, looking back at Harry. "He can't understand it. He called me a liar, accused me of making his life a living hell, and said he wouldn't talk to me until I had a name to tell him.

"I just can't, Harry. I've waited this long and I want to make things right. I can't put everything at risk after more than eleven years."

"I know this is difficult for you, that you must have good reasons to keep this a secret from all of us, but you've always said that you would reveal the truth once Nathan was older. Why are you taking so long, Hermione?" he asked her.

"I knew this would be a difficult year, with Nathan leaving for Hogwarts and all. I thought I would be ready to deal with this whole mess when the time came, but the truth is that I'm not ready. I thought I was, but I'm not. This is not how I imagined it would be, Harry. I want to end this once and for all, and I know Nathan is ready, but he's not the only one involved."

"I see," Harry said, lowering his head. "I wish I could help, but there is not much I can do, not knowing the truth myself," he pointed out.

Hermione knew Harry had never really forgiven her for keeping this from him, but she knew better than to reveal the truth now. Harry and Severus hadn't grown out of their hatred for one another, and if she told Harry that Severus was Nathan's father, she didn't know what he would do. No, as much as she wanted to tell him, she couldn't either.

"I'm sorry, Harry. I'll tell you everything one day," she apologized.

Harry sighed. "What are you going to do about Nathan? Do you want me to talk with him?"

"No, I'll talk to him this weekend. We've been through this before. He can't ignore me forever, right?" she said, smiling sadly again. "If he insists on not listening to me, I might need you."

"I'll be here," Harry said, smiling back at her. "And even if you aren't speaking, I can give him hell over Christmas, so you don't have any excuse to refuse my invitation, Hermione."

"All right," she agreed, her smile more sincere, "we'll be there."

"Great," he said, standing from the couch, "Ginny will be trilled, and so will Lily."

Hermione stood, too.

Harry sobered a little. "I have to go now, but don't hesitate in calling me, okay?"

"I'm sure everything will be all right," she assured him.

He nodded. "I know it will." He hugged her again and went for the Floo powder. "I'll see you in two weeks." Harry called out his destination and was soon gone in the green flames.

Hermione sighed and went back to her pile of essays. She still didn't know what to do with Nathan, or with Severus. God, they were both so stubborn! Well, she would talk to them again on the weekend and could only hope that they would listen this time.

Severus strode into the laboratory, resolute. "He knows. I've told him."

Hermione stopped everything she'd been doing and stared at him in surprise. "How did he take it?"

"He's fine," Severus assured her. "You were right; he was ready to know."

She released the breath she'd been holding with a long sigh. "I told you he would like to know you were his father." Hermione bypassed the workbench to stand in front of him and took his hands in hers. "How do you feel about it?"

He didn't shy from her touch. "As much as I can't understand why you had him in the first place, I'm glad you did."

"I had him because he was your son. I've always thought of you as a great man, Severus. I knew the world could use of an heir of yours, and he was the result of your loyalty, courage and hope in my future. Thank you for that, and for giving me a chance to explain my reasons."

"I respect them, Hermione."

The mention of her given name brought her eyes up from his hands. She drowned in the intensity of his gaze and disentangled a hand to delicately brush back that stubborn strand of hair from his face. He closed his eyes under her gentle touch. "Hermione," he whispered.

"Severus," she answered in a whisper of her own, and it was all she could say before his lips touched hers. The kiss was tentative, gentle, and she thanked him for the arm supporting her now. She melted in the sensations, until…

…the alarm clock brought her back from her dreams. It was seven-thirty, and her real life demanded her to wake up and go to work. She licked her dry lips and sighed for the loss of her dreamy Severus. Of course it was another dream, she thought. She had had others, and they were happening far too often for her own good.

She sighed again when she thought of the real Severus. Every time they'd talked, they had argued. Would he ever see past what happened between them that night? She hoped he would, just like her dream Severus had. Hermione knew they could have an almost friendly acquaintance. They had worked well enough together during the war, preparing everything for the final battle. Well enough until that night. If things had been different, if she hadn't been captured and he hadn't had to save her, what would have become of their relationship then? Would they had grown close and become friends? She didn't think so. As much as Hermione thought they had a good rapport after he wasn't her teacher anymore, she couldn't see Severus becoming friends with her without a fight. The thought that followed made her smile; she would have fought.

If it wasn't for her evident pregnancy, that she had decided to keep from him, trying not to add to his problems, Hermione would have kept in touch with Severus whether he had been willing or not. If only she had told him of Nathan before… What could have happened then? Would he have been easier to convince, or would he have been just as stubborn as he was being now? If only he could see past his stubbornness. Hermione was sure he could be a good father. Nathan would be much happier with him, and so would I. A light smile played in Hermione's mouth at the possibility of real kisses from a very real Severus, and she left her bed for a shower.