Severus Snape and Harry Potter

Chapter 46

As Harry left his quarters to go to Ghost's room, Severus hummed quietly as he gathered up the breakfast dishes into a pile and left them on the end of the table, where Prissy would remove them. He felt oddly lighthearted and somehow vindicated by Harry's request to be adopted. Never in all of his life would he had have assumed that any child would ask for him to be their parent, he had spent too many years cultivating the terrifying bat of the dungeons persona for any but a few discerning Slytherins to break past the mask and see the man beneath. And even they would not have dared think of him as father material. A rough protector or advisor perhaps—but a father—never! He felt strangely humbled to be thought of in such a fashion—humbled and slightly frightened as well. He had never been what anyone might call parenting material—indeed his guardianship of Harry was the first time he had been responsible for anyone save himself—and Skull, though the raven generally took care of himself. He wasn't what you would call friendly or even welcoming—he was suspicious, wary, and irritable when he was disturbed from sleep or brewing, he could be sharp, sarcastic, and downright nasty if you happened to get on the wrong side of him, and also strict as a poker when it came to following rules. And yet, Harry had chosen him as his parent, to replace the Potters. It boggled Severus' mind.

"You sound happy, Sev," remarked Skull from the back of the easy chair.

"I don't understand, Skull," Severus said wonderingly.

"Don't understand what, Sev?"

"Why me? He could have just left it as a guardianship. Or—or chosen someone else—like Dumbledore. Why me? I'm a bloody pain-in-the-ass with all my rules. I'm not permissive, I'm a perfectionist, and I'm a disciplinarian. Why would any kid want me for his adoptive father?"

"Kids need boundaries, Sev. They need to know where they stand. Harry never had that till you. He told me once that the Dursleys were always on him for everything, even things that weren't his fault. Actually, everything was his fault. But you're not like that, Severus. You've made him understand that he's only in trouble for things that he does, not for things he doesn't. You're fair with him, and though he might not like your discipline, he knows, deep down, that he needs it. You care about him, Sev. You make sure he's safe and comfortable and happy. You treat him like he matters, not because he's supposed to be Voldemort's downfall, but because he's a little kid that needs looking after."

"Well, yes . . . but he could get some of that from Molly Weasley."

"She has seven of her own to look after," Skull reminded. "Much as she'd try, she can only do so much. Harry knows that. Besides, I think he likes being the only one who's ever seen past that shell of yours, Professor. And he likes the way you care for him, strict or not."

"But I'm not like James Potter. I never will be. I don't play Quidditch—I hate the damn game—I'm not popular or thrilled with stupid pranks—"

"Severus Snape! Harry knows all that! He knows you're not here to take James' place, that's ridiculous. What he knows about his father can fit into a thimble. It's not important. His father is dead. You're here. And you love the boy, just Harry, not the Boy Who Lived." Skull cocked his head and looked earnestly at his wizard. "You need to stop doubting yourself, Snape. You're a good guardian and will be a better father. Much better than the ones he's known before you. You've taught the boy something no one else has, something he may not even realize yet."

"Like what? How to brew potions?"

"No, you idiot, how to value himself." Skull snapped. "No one else, not Dumbledore or McGonagall, has ever done that. Only you. And that is why you're the best father for him. And if anyone says differently, I'll peck out their eyes! Then they'll see the truth!"