My Son One and Only

My Son One and Only

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Chapter 2

Deep in Thought

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When Severus entered his quarters, he closed the door with a loud bang. Then he sighed deep, falling to the nearest armchair, leaning his head to his hand.

Neville was Nicholas. Nicholas was Neville.

It couldn't be. It just couldn't. But why would have Albus lied to him? He'd get no benefit from lying -- rather to the opposite, he only got Severus mad at himself. He had to be telling the truth. It would have been so like the old coot, keeping something like this in secret for years in fear of angering him, and then only revealing it when he absolutely must to save somebody's life. Bloody Gryffindor Headmaster.

The truth, however, was very hard to believe. Not was only his son alive, alive even though he'd mourned him for sixteen years -- no, that was not enough, his son hated him. Feared him, was terrified of him.

And it was his own fault.

He had treated Longbottom badly, he knew that. Sure, he was harsh to all Gryffindors -- he had to, it wouldn't do to let the Dark Lord suspect his loyalty even the tiniest bit -- but he'd always been especially hard on Longbottom. From the first lesson on the boy's first year he'd seen that he was afraid to death of him -- and Severus had done everything in his might not only to maintain but to grow that fear. Not because he'd found it fun to torment his former friends' son -- well, at least not only because of that -- but because he'd had Reasons. And when Severus Snape had Reasons, he could not be proved wrong.

The one Reason he admitted to himself had been simple: Death Eaters. Neville's parents had been great Aurors, great enough to be tormented to insanity by the Dark Lord's followers, their little baby boy witnessing the whole horrible ordeal. He'd wanted to keep Neville safe from the same fate, feeling it his duty to do that, as Frank and Alice had always been there for him until he'd separated himself from everyone. And as the boy seemed to be absolutely incompetent to do any magic properly, he had to be ready to defend himself. To this, Severus had tried to frighten him, trying to push him so far that he'd finally snap back. This far, he hadn't managed.

Another Reason was just that, the boy's incompetence. Two such powerful and intelligent people as Alice and Frank could not have produced such a fool of a son. Severus suspected that the boy might actually be more intelligent than he let out -- after all, he always passed his exams, now didn't he? Even his OWLs, which was a wonder. Maybe he was afraid of the attention he'd got if he'd really been smart? A life with his grandmother could very well have done that. So, Severus just pushed him further and further -- if there were any skills the boy was hiding, he would at last show them just to make the taunting stop.

This far, neither of his two Reasons had led to anything. Whenever he thought that a sparkle of rebellion might be hiding in the boy's dark eyes, he barked his insults double as much, hoping to finally make the boy flare up. This, however, always made that sparkle die and the boy cower once again. What really kept him continuing the boy's tormenting -- other than keeping up his facade, of course -- was the last of the Reasons, the one he didn't ever dare to even consciously think about.

Of course, this Reason was Nicholas. Neville had been born the day after Nicholas had died. He was darkhaired, like Nicholas had been, and not too tanned, either -- both Severus and Celine had got pale skin, so their son would have had that, too. Of course Severus's son wouldn't have been so plump, but that hardly mattered. What mattered was that Neville was alive, alive while Severus's son was dead, and Neville had even been given life the very day that Nicholas had lost his. Every time Severus's eyes fell to this boy, he couldn't help but think that it was Nicholas sitting in front of him, in his class, that Nicholas was still alive and with him, and that his own life was actually worth something. But then Neville did something wrong or shivered in fear, and he remembered again that Nicholas was dead, and he had to get that pain out of himself and so he insulted Neville -- or Potter, for the same reasons. Potter also resembled the Nicholas in his imagination, even if not as much. It was so easy, directing his feelings to other people, taking out all his frustration and anger and pain on innocent and not-so-innocent students. Albus didn't like it, but Severus didn't stop. It was so easy to reason, even -- it was unfair that Severus had lost his son, and it was unfair that Neville and Potter both got to live while Nicholas had died, that all those other children still lived. It was only fair that there was some pain in their lives, wasn't it?

But now, Severus had made Neville fear and hate himself. And now Albus told that Neville was not Neville at all, but Nicholas. His son, the one he always thought of, the one he dreamed to have and live with and treat fairly and kindly. He'd used years tormenting his first and only son.

He was no better than his own father had been.

That thought stung. Severus's father had been the worst kind of a bastard ever stained the Earth -- a wife-beater, a child-abuser, and violent to everybody else as well. Young Severus and his mother had always lived scared of Mr. Snape, the one person who was supposed to love them and protect them. A husband. A father. When he'd finally died when Severus was sixteen, the teen had vowed never to be like him.

He hadn't beaten his wife, that was true. He'd never raised a finger against Celine in anything else but a gentle touch, never. He'd always treated his wife lovingly and gently, and Celine had returned the favour, and they'd been so happy, and Severus had almost forgotten his father. And when Celine had died, giving him little Nicholas, he had treated his son with all love and gentleness he'd previously shown to his wife.

But in the end, he'd been no better. His son was afraid, afraid of his father, not maybe in the way Severus had been but at least just as badly. Maybe even worse. Bruises heal and broken bones can be mended, but it's hard to put plaster on one's heart and soul after hurtful words have hit their goal.

Now that he thought of it, Neville did resemble himself. Albus had said the Glamouring Charms had worn out a long time ago, hadn't he? The boy he'd seen in the Infirmary hadn't been as plump as the boy he'd got accustomed to in the classroom -- thanks to the illness, no doubt. The boy's eyes were dark brown instead of black, true, but so had been his until he turned seventeen. It ran in the family, he'd been told. Many Wizarding families had some features that showed up in every generation, especially in the males. All Weasleys had red hair and freckles, for example, and every Potter had the same messy hair as the previous one. Every Malfoy had blond hair and silvery eyes -- it had something to do with the Veela blood in their family, the rumours told -- and every Snape's eyes turned black around the time they turned seventeen.

And the hair. That hair, black like his, attempting to curl in the ends like Celine's, was one of the things that had always pained him most in the boy. It was just like he'd thought that Nicholas's hair would have been, if he'd only got to live. Seemingly he had been right about that one, at least.

He sighed deep, then stood up. There was probably no way he could ever get his son back, but he'd be damned if he let Nicholas die again. Nobody would know that he'd brewed the potion -- well, nobody but Albus, anyway. On that note, he had to get revenge on the old fool. His life had been completely spoiled, and who was behind it? The only man he'd always trusted with it! Anyway, nobody would find out that his potion had saved the boy. Therefore, nobody would ever find out that he was in fact Neville's father. The boy should not know, no, least of all him. He'd probably been shocked out of his already poorly functioning mind if he'd found out that the scary Potions Master was in fact his father. No need to torment his son any more than he already had. What mattered now was that Nicholas would live.

He hardly could fix the things anymore. Neville -- or Nicholas, whatever -- would be better with insane parents in a hospital than with a father he was afraid of. Severus knew personally how horrible it was to be afraid of one's own parent, and he certainly did not wish that fate on his son. There was no way he could make Nicholas trust himself, either -- he'd probably already pushed too far, the boy could never forgive him for all the things he'd said and done. But now that he knew, he could at least observe his son's life from distance, proud or disappointed -- although he knew already that he would not be disappointed. His son could never disappoint him, the mere fact that he was alive was quite enough to him to make him proud of him forever. For a long time, he hadn't expected Nicholas to even breathe -- how anything he did now, good or bad, could be anything but a reason to Severus to pride himself on, albeit secretly?

Yes, Severus Snape did have human feelings, though it was something he'd never shown to most of people. He was in fact capable of feeling things like love, friendship, or parental pride. It was that he very rarely got occasions where he could show those without fearing either being ridiculed or his cover being blown. Never since the First War's end, to be exact, and rarely between losing Nicholas's and that.

He had had friends back then. Frank and Alice, for two. He'd never been close to Lily Evans, later Potter, but through Celine he'd got to know the redhead too, although he'd never got along with James. He still couldn't understand how Lily had ever married that brat, who had no respect to anything. And, oh yes, Lupin. Lupin had been his friend once -- or at least an ally. Their companionship had been the very reason why James Potter had found Lupin untrustable and had made Pettigrew his Secret Keeper instead. Such a fool he'd been, Potter. Anyway, Lupin had been the last one of his friends he'd pulled away from. Without Celine, he'd had no real ties to Lily, although the witch had tried to contact him not a few times. And as for the Longbottoms, well -- they'd had Neville, while he had lost Nicholas. He'd been envious of their happiness, and in the end, he hadn't been able to bear it anymore. He'd abandoned the Longbottoms to avoid being hurt any more. Only Lupin had remained on his side.

But then Pettigrew had betrayed the Potters. Lupin had withdrawn to himself, and Severus had been put into Azkaban, suspected of being on the Dark Lord's side. Later, they'd just lost touch. And two years back, when Lupin had been teaching DADA, Severus had finally spoilt any chances he might have had of being friends with the werewolf again.

And now even Albus, the last person he'd let near to himself, had betrayed him, betrayed him worse than anybody ever had. He could not forgive the Headmaster, not ever. It was simply too much.

So, he seemingly would show no more human feelings to anybody in his life. All the better that he could at least be secretly proud of Nicholas's achievements, even if the boy could never know of it.

With this in mind, he set to work.