Touch the Sky

Chapter 5. Fledging

The gathering ended in a flurry of apologies to the Malfoys, polite demurrals, and a last brief embrace between Draco and Severus. The Zabinis and the Potter-Snapes Apparated from the Manor, side-along with their children, rather than stand about awkwardly waiting turns at the floo.

Back at Godric's Hollow, James declined tea or conversation and took himself off to bed with the younger two. The three adults sat in the sitting room looking at each other uneasily.

Suddenly, draining his cup of tea, Severus rose and went upstairs without a word. Ginny held off for as long as she could, but eventually she just had to find out what was happening. Harry gave her a knowing look as she muttered something about a forgotten book and followed Severus up.

Once upstairs, she stopped outside James's partly open bedroom door, prepared to pretend to be there to say goodnight, when she heard her son's voice say, "Father, you've been dead. What do you think? What does it all mean, this religion lark? Is it really so important?"

Peering in guiltily, she could see Severus on the bed next to James, long legs propped on the duvet with his feet cocked to keep his boots off it.

After a short pause, Severus said, "I suggest your dad would be the better person to ask about such questions. My otherworld experience was presented as an opportunity to engage with my sins. His was for healing, and the reward of his heroism. Do you not think he would be the better resource?"

"No, I don't. To tell you the truth--" James's voice dropped low, "sometimes I wish he wasn't a hero. I mean, I know that you're one, too, sir, but stupid girls--and grown men and women, too, for that matter--don't come smirking up to me asking if I could possibly get them your autograph." He fiddled with the edge of his sheet, watching his fingers. "Don't get me wrong, I'm proud as blazes of Dad, and I love him more than anything. It's just--sometimes it feels like he belongs to too many people, you know?"

"I do know," Severus said.

"And all the crap he's been through. I mean, it makes me feel like my own problems are so--I don't know, inconsequential. I realise he doesn't think that, he always takes me seriously, but--Merlin, Father, he lost his parents, his godfather, you, then his great reward was he got to sacrifice his own life. And then when he got it back he had to fight for his life again against the greatest evil wizard of the age. And I'm supposed to go whingeing to him because I can't decide whether to turn Catholic?"

"Your dilemma is not trivial," Severus answered. "Nor would Harry dismiss it as such. I hope you can overcome your reluctance to seek his counsel. Meanwhile, I will assist you if I can, of course, but it is unclear to me how I may be of help. My own experience of formal religion is limited. My mother had abandoned her family's Druid roots; my father was nominally Chapel, but since he was also an habitual drunkard, he was persona non grata among his coreligionists. I believe I have some Jewish ancestry, but know even less about that tradition."

Jamie sighed and shifted against his pillow. "Dad says his parents and grandparents were C of E, but given the Dursleys' example he's never practised it. I know the Weasleys are all fairly secular, though they're originally Old Religion. All these years I've enjoyed Christmas and Easter and never thought much about why we were celebrating them. I really don't think I'm a Christian, though."

He raised himself on one elbow, peering up through the shadows in the darkened room at Severus's face. "So I'm thinking, since I don't believe in any of it, what difference would it make if I pretend I do, just to make things easier for Tessa? I don't want to hurt her parents' feelings. Though I mean to marry her, with their approval or without it, and she feels the same. That doesn't mean we should just ignore what they think. But still, it just doesn't sit right to think of making promises I don't mean, pretending to take on a religion I don't hold to."

Severus ran his fingers up James's face and tangled them in his tousled hair. "I can tell you something about living a life in service to vows one inwardly repudiates," he said softly. "I do not recommend it. It is damaging to the soul, even undertaken for the best of motives."

Jamie leaned into the touch. "So you think my pretending to be Catholic would be like your spying for the Light all those years? Does Professor Zabini know you equate the pope to Voldemort?"

"Impertinent imp," Severus said, ruffling Jamie's hair. "Just like your impossible parent."

"That's me," James chuckled. "You forgot impatient, impudent, impenitent, um... importuning, and highly improbable." Looking up at Severus, his smile stilled to contemplation. Almost wonderingly, he said, "You know, Father, I really love you."

"And I you, my son," Severus said softly, leaning down to kiss the top of his head.

Ginny slipped silently away from the door. When Severus came out of the room, she was standing by a table in the passage, adjusting some silk flowers in a vase. She looked up to meet his eyes and they nodded at each other before Severus turned and made his way down the stairs. She moved after him, into the sitting room where Harry waited for them.

He was leaning on the mantel, moodily kicking at a charred log. He turned at their approach. "How's Jamie?"

"Severus sorted him, for the moment," Ginny answered.

"Well, I just firecalled Blaise," Harry said. "He and Helena will come along with Teresa Friday afternoon so we can thrash this business out. I'm not having our son's happiness compromised by some stupid prejudice that no one cares about any more. Religion affecting our lives? Really? What century is this? I mean, if this sort of thing still had any importance in the wizarding world, they would have had religious services for students at Hogwarts, wouldn't they?"

Harry turned toward them with a satisfied air, then faltered at the look on their faces. "Wouldn't they?" he repeated, sinking onto the sofa.

Ginny and Severus glanced at each other, then took chairs on either side of him. "Harry, they did," Ginny said gently.

"They did?"

"Did you never happen into the rooms on the lower levels of Ravenclaw Tower on a Sunday morning, when they held adjacent Masses for the Anglicans and the Roman Catholics?" Severus put in. "Dumbledore led the one, and they brought in a priest for the other. The service for Presbyterians was on the seventh floor, as I remember, just past the Room of Requirement. Minerva led it."

"Dean used to go to that one sometimes," Ginny agreed, "though his family were Baptists. And on Saturday mornings the same room was used for Jewish services, but Anthony Goldstein once mentioned to me that they had trouble sometimes getting ten people together for them. I forget why that was important."

Harry's jaw was hanging open. "Wait, 'Dumbledore led'? He was, like, ordained? And McGonagal, too?"

"It was expected of headmasters at one time," Severus said. "Actually created something of a crisis at Canterbury when the first woman was appointed by the Hogwarts trustees, back before the modern Anglican policy was instituted. Presbyterians liberalised their regulations earlier, I believe."

Harry waved a dismissive hand, shaking his head. "But--I mean, all these services? Why didn't I ever know they even existed?" he demanded.

Ginny shrugged. "I suppose no one ever thought to mention it to you, since you didn't seem to be interested, and nor was anyone in your immediate circle. "

"They were under a Notice-Me-Not illusion," Severus added. "Dating from the days of Mary Tudor, then Elizabeth--when first Anglicans, then Roman Catholics, could be persecuted by the church in power at the time. These days, students who inquire are given directions."

"My friends were involved in all this?" Harry asked weakly.

"Not directly," Ginny said. "Hermione's parents were Unitarian, I think, but she never followed up with it. And of course Ron and I were raised in a shockingly lax manner when it came to religion." She chuckled. "It used to drive Auntie Muriel spare, that we could never be arsed to present ourselves at her annual Samhain feast. 'You're raising those children to be absolute heathens,' she used to rail to Mum and Dad. 'This so-called Hallowe'en celebration is a poor shadow of the Old Religion, and as for All Saints' Day, stuff and nonsense.'"

They all laughed at her spot-on imitation of Muriel's nasal, hectoring tone, then Ginny sobered. "I suppose it's no laughing matter, if it's become a problem for Jamie. We'll have to see what Blaise and Helena have to say about it, I suppose."

In silent accord, they rose and made their way upstairs, where Harry kissed Ginny and held her in the way that she had learnt meant he would spend the night with Severus. "That business with Draco has us both a little unsettled," he murmured. "We need some time together."

"Of course," she said. "You did a fine job with Jamie tonight, Severus."

"He's a fine lad," Severus answered, bending to press a fraternal kiss to her temple.

Well, Ginny thought, watching the two of them move down the passageway with their arms around each other's waists, if Severus Snape can mellow that much, I suppose anything's possible.

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A/N: I'm getting a fair number of hits on this story, but almost no reviews. Since I've never posted chapter-by-chapter this way, I'd appreciate some feedback as we go along. Thanks for reading, anyway.