Lily's Charm: The Gift

1996

Sirius' breath dragged painfully into his chest as he heard Harry's voice two beds over.

He'd called him dad. Snape. Dad.

Sirius didn't move, not even to close his eyes as he felt the anguish at what he'd heard. Dad. That was supposed to be James.

Sirius watched as Snape's head snapped up, his fingers curling around the top of Harry's head. Sirius' muscles flexed to spring, but he forced himself to be still. The fingers were holding onto Harry in an undeniably protective manner; there was absolutely nothing hostile in the motion, loathe though Sirius was to admit it.

"Harry," Snape whispered hoarsely. A deep, mournful sigh seemed to shudder through the unflappable Slytherin. "How do you feel?" Snape asked quickly, the pitch of his voice sounding very off to Sirius' ears. Much too gentle. He'd never heard Snape speak to anyone like that.

Snape was blocking his view of Harry, and there was a lengthy pause before Harry said weakly, "You're here." Sirius' heart squeezed painfully at the tone in Harry's voice. He'd sounded just like that when he'd first come to Grimmauld Place last summer. When Harry had been greeting him.

Sirius watched as Snape brushed his thumb slowly, just underneath Harry's hairline.

"Of course I am," Snape murmured softly, as though he was talking to a beloved pet. Sirius could hear Harry licking dry lips. Snape pulled his fingers from Harry's hair and brought the glass of water from the table toward Harry. "Slowly," Snape commanded in that same gentle tone.

"Thanks," Harry said after a moment, still sounding croaky. Snape nodded a little and settled his hand back in Harry's mop of black hair--the only part of his godson that Sirius could see. And Sirius wanted to fling himself up from his bed and tell Harry that he was here. He also wanted to shout at Snape to stop touching his godson, and to tell him that if he ever laid a finger on Harry again, he'd tear his arms off.

But Harry hadn't made a single noise of protest.

Harry's hand came into view then; his familiar fingers curled around Snape's left forearm. Snape slid his arm down to take Harry's fingers.

"I was waiting...Voldemort said you wouldn't come for me," Harry said softly, and he almost sounded like he was offering the words as an apology. Probably because Snape was going to berate him for being a coward. But Snape didn't seem to have any such intention. Sirius watched his hand running over Harry's fringe.

Snape shook his head. "Voldemort's games were almost successful with me, as well...I would never have left you there, Harry," he told him, and Sirius could find nothing but sincerity in his words.

Sirius could hear sheets rustling, and then he could see the side of Harry's face. His heart began to pound.

"You let me go."

The distress in Harry's voice made Sirius' face burn. He wasn't certain exactly which emotion...which fear to attribute it to.

"I had no other choice, Harry," Snape told him, sounding almost as pained as Sirius felt. "Voldemort would have taken my soul as well. I would not have been able to bring you back." Snape's voice broke, and Sirius finally remembered to start breathing again.

He could see Harry's dark hair, nodding up and down against the pillow. "I know," he said softly. "It's just..." Harry drew a deep breath and then stopped talking.

Snape stepped closer to the bed, even though he was practically leaning on it already. "Harry, it was never my intention for you to believe I did not want you to sleep at home after the banquet."

Home.

The word reverberated in Sirius' head, even as he attempted to figure out what Snape was talking about.

"But you told me to sleep in the tower...and I know you're angry with me," Harry was saying, his words strained and he seemed to be struggling not to cry. Sirius felt himself moving forward, wanting to comfort his godson, but a hand on his arm stopped him. He didn't need to turn around to see that it would be Remus. Remus wouldn't allow him to go over there and hex Snape for bullying Harry. Harry sounded like a mess.

He knew though, he couldn't simply charge over there and announce himself to Harry. It would give the kid a heart attack. So he leaned against his mattress as quietly as he could, folded his arms over his chest and waited with Remus.

--

"About this afternoon, I mean...and about what I said to Remus," Harry explained, swallowing painfully when he'd finished. "Where is Remus now?" he asked, wondering how angry Remus still was with him.

His father frowned. "He is here," he said.

"He's here?" Harry asked. Severus nodded.

"He stayed here after we brought you back."

"Remus came with you?" Harry asked, the knot in his stomach loosening a bit as he realized that must mean Remus wasn't completely furious with him.

"You did not realize Lupin was with me the entire time?"

Harry, confused, shook his head slowly. "He was? I only felt you--and Voldemort."

Severus nodded. "Did you realize that we used the Veil to find you?" he asked softly. Harry squinted in thought. Had he realized that? Some part of him wanted to nod, as he thought he could remember something. Shapes and shadows that seemed to be with his father. Dancing back and forth between the one who loathed him and the one who loved him.

The ones who loved him.

Remus...

...and

"Sirius," Harry breathed, his heart leaping into his throat as the shadows became people in his mind. "Sirius was still there behind the Veil, wasn't he?" he asked breathlessly. His father nodded stiffly. "But if he was there, he should have tried to come back. Maybe he could have...with you..." The look on his father's face made Harry's heart plummet into his stomach. "He didn't want to because he was angry with me, wasn't he?" He clenched his jaw at the hurt that ignited. But Sirius had a right to feel that way

"He was not angry with you, Harry."

Then why was his father's voice so filled with pain?

"I remember him...and Remus, but Sirius was with Voldemort." Harry tried to clear the muddle in his brain. Maybe that's why he couldn't come back. If he was with Voldemort...

"Black was forcing Voldemort away from you."

The nervous ice in the pit of Harry's stomach was beginning to melt. "You talked to him, then?" he asked, and then he realized why his father was holding himself so stiffly. "You told him about us, didn't you?" Sirius would have been furious, and Harry found his face flushing with anger.

"Voldemort told him...before he assisted us in retrieving you," Severus corrected. "Harry..."

Harry stared at his father as the entire contents of their conversation penetrated his brain.

If Sirius wasn't angry with him, and had in fact cared enough about him to save him from Voldemort, even after he knew he wasn't James' son... And Severus looked as though he was lost. The only other time Harry had seen him looking even remotely as battered, it had been when Severus thought Harry might have to die to fulfill the prophecy.

"Not even Albus understands the mysteries of the Veil, Harry," Severus was telling him.

"So he tried it then?" Harry finally managed, his voice coming out in a squeak. Harry's next question died on his tongue.

Sirius...it was really Sirius...stepped out of the darkness.

"Sirius," he whispered. He struggled to sit up; his father helped him. "Sirius," he gulped again, not trusting himself to say anything else.

"Harry..."

The single word was filled with sadness. And before Harry was ready for it, he was swallowed up in Sirius' arms. He didn't really have time to adjust to it either; Sirius was soon grasping his arms and holding him slightly from his chest.

"Harry," he repeated, louder this time. He was grinning like a man gone mad.

Harry had no idea what to say. His stomach was churning with a half dozen emotions, and he didn't know what to do with any of them. But it made no difference; Sirius began speaking, so quickly that Harry had a hard time keeping up with the stream of words.

"...never thought I'd see you again, Harry," Sirius finally breathed after he'd told Harry in at least three different ways how glad he was to see him again; his fingers hadn't lost any of their fierce grip.

Harry could think of only one response. There was only one thing he wanted to say to his godfather. "I'm sorry," he said softly. Sirius' face fell. He shook his head rapidly.

"No, Harry. It wasn't your fault," he insisted quietly, angling his head a little so that he was looking right into Harry's eyes. Harry could feel Sirius' fingers trembling.

"I shouldn't have gone to the Ministry that night. I should have known it was a trick," Harry disagreed vehemently, ignoring the tears he could feel gathering in his eyes. "I was so stupid," he whispered. He felt a tear trickle down his nose. He wanted to swipe at it but he was thwarted by his arms, trapped in Sirius' hands.

Sirius' fingers tightened their hold. He was frowning. "You were not stupid, Harry," he said firmly. "You were trying to save me. I would have done the same if I had thought you needed me."

"But you wouldn't have let me die," Harry protested, his voice rising despite his best efforts to bridle his emotions.

"Harry," Sirius said with a bit of dark chuckle, "it was Bellatrix's spell that pushed me through the Veil." Harry didn't say anything; he didn't know what to say. "And anyway, I'm not dead," Sirius said with a shrug and a crooked smile. Harry's tears spilled over at the happy grin, which immediately fell into a grimace of apology. Sirius pulled Harry into his arms again.

--

Severus watched Black embracing his son, wanting to close his eyes as Harry all but disappeared in Black's robes. Severus was watching them intently; he had barely noticed when Remus came to stand beside him.

"You have nothing to be sorry for Harry," Black was consoling Harry. "I was never angry at you...not even for a minute," he assured him.

"You should have been," Harry muttered into Black's wrinkled robes. Severus had to quickly squelch the urge to tear Black's arms off. Black chuckled again, the sound much lighter as he continued to hug Harry, completely unaware that Severus was seriously considering killing him.

"Well, I'm not," Black said, and Severus would have guessed that he was smiling.

After what seemed like an eternity, Harry finally pulled away from Black. Oddly, Harry wasn't smiling. His face was full of apprehension, but Black didn't seem to notice, even when Harry's eyes wandered over to Severus; Black was too busy talking about how happy he was. Again.

Harry's lips jerked into a frown when he found Remus standing beside Severus. His cheeks warmed, and Severus knew it was from shame. Remus smiled gently at him. But no one had a chance to speak. The sconces on their half of the Infirmary brightened suddenly. Poppy came hurrying out of her office. Her face tightened a little as she found Harry awake, seemingly well, and sitting up in bed.

"Mr. Snape," she admonished, clucking her tongue.

Black reared back in surprise. Harry tensed as he noted the reaction.

"You shouldn't be awake," Poppy was scolding. Harry nodded quickly, probably only hoping to stall her inevitable lecture, but Poppy nodded at him and turned sharply to Severus. "I told you that Harry needed to sleep, Severus," she said in exasperation. Not waiting for a response, she moved close to Harry's side. "Hold still," she commanded, running her wand tightly up and down the length of Harry's body. She nodded in satisfaction, and then looked again to Severus. She paused, her lips pinching together. Her gaze swept over Remus and Black. "If you would both excuse us," she suggested politely.

"What?" Black asked, clearly surprised and irritated by the Mediwitch's suggestion. He shook off Remus' restraining arm. "Why?" he demanded.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Black, but a patient's medical concerns are private," Poppy told him, cutting off any verbal protests he would have made.

"And Snape?" Black asked through his teeth. Harry stiffened at the question.

"Harry is a minor and Severus is his father."

Black stared at Poppy for longer than was necessary. He turned away without a word. He and Remus moved over to wait by the bed farthest away. Severus was having a very difficult time not smirking at Black's retreating back. Harry was watching him carefully.

Poppy waved her wand once more over Harry. "Physically, Mr. Snape, you are recovering nicely, though of course you need more rest," she told him, her voice turning soft. "However," she continued worriedly, "because of everything that's happened, I don't think it would be wise to allow you to simply resume your daily activities as though nothing has happened."

Severus waited for his son to protest. But Harry only nodded, his eyes not really seeming to register the conversation. Poppy glanced up at Severus. Severus laid a hand on Harry's arm. Harry looked down at it, as though he wasn't sure what was touching him.

"Harry?" Severus questioned anxiously, his mind reeling back to the moments in the past days when Harry had seemed to black out. The times when Voldemort had been seeking his soul. But Harry looked up again, his eyes nothing like the blank pools they had been during those dizzy spells.

"I understand," Harry said with a nod. "I shouldn't have resisted it so much in the first place I suppose...we wouldn't be in this mess," he finished with a shrug. Again, Poppy glanced worriedly at Severus.

"Harry," Severus said in a low voice, "Voldemort captured your soul before we returned to Riddle Manor. This 'mess' would have existed whether or not you had attempted a longer recuperation."

"Well, maybe you could have found a way to close off my soul or something, so that Voldemort wouldn't have been able to get any more of it," Harry suggested, though there was no real vigor in his voice.

"You would not have been able to live well without that piece of your soul," Poppy interjected, and Severus could tell she was trying to ease Harry's mind. "You haven't been yourself these past few days," she added. Harry said nothing as his shoulders slumped. His eyes flicked to Black, still waiting with Remus. Severus watched with unease; Harry obviously wanted to talk to him again.

"Harry can rest until you believe he is fully fit again," Severus told Poppy. Poppy nodded with a frown.

"He needs to be fit in mind as well," she reiterated, reminding Severus of their conversation after Voldemort's defeat. Harry need to talk through everything that had haunted him since Voldemort had come into his life. Severus nodded. Harry sat quietly, watching his hands now with great interest.

"I will get Black-"

Harry's eyes darted up.

"I need to examine him, Severus. I shouldn't have allowed it to wait so long," Poppy interrupted, giving Severus a pointed look. She gave Harry a little smile, patting him on the arm, and then went over to where Black was still waiting with Remus.

Harry looked at Black again through half-closed lids. When his gaze came back to his hands, he pressed his palms into his thighs.

--

Harry didn't know where to begin. Sirius--however impossible it was--was here. Sirius wasn't dead. His mind was reeling. And yet, Sirius wasn't foremost in his mind. It was as though Sirius was only a dream, and he had faded away as quickly as he had come.

Harry couldn't look at his father.

"Are you..." he finally began, swallowing twice before starting over, "...if you're still angry-"

"I was never angry with you," Severus denied immediately, still speaking much more quietly than Harry would have expected. Harry chanced a quick glance at his dad's face. Severus settled a hand on his. Harry bit the inside of his cheek, trying to shut his ruddy out-of-control emotions up. "Harry," his father continued, his Adams' apple bobbing jerkily along his throat, "I want to explain-"

"You don't need to," Harry interrupted quickly, shaking his head, and wishing desperately that he could take back these past few days. He'd rather have Voldemort back than have to hear his father tell him he didn't want him around their quarters anymore.

Severus looked confused. "Of course I do, Harry. I want you to understand-"

"I do understand," Harry interjected quickly. "I know I've been a complete arse and I don't really have any excuse other than I just got carried away with all the attention, I guess. And I know that isn't any sort of excuse...though I have been feeling awfully funny, but I know you're pretty angry with me..."

The calloused fingers on his hand slipped away, and Harry started talking faster, the words coming out in a flooded babble now.

"I'm sorry for what happened with Remus. I really wasn't before, but I am now, and I'm sorry I've been ignoring everyone and not paying much attention to my assignments, and for taking advantage of you being my father, and about the Minister-"

"Harry."

Harry stopped talking; his father's voice sounded strangled. "I did not send you to sleep in your dorm," he said, sounding no less anxious than just a moment before. Harry shook his head in confusion.

"You didn't?" he asked, trying to remember exactly what his father had said, but couldn't. Only that he seemed eager to be rid of both him and his attitude.

"Harry...of course not," Severus gently admonished him, with an oddly jerky shake of his head. "Even if I had been angry with you, I would not ask you to leave our home. I asked you if you wanted to spend the night in your dorm. I had assumed that you wanted some distance from me," he explained; his words were filled with pain.

Harry's eyes snapped back toward his father, whose face had become a mask; the candlelight flickered harshly against the sharp lines of his face.

"You did?"

Severus nodded. "Harry, I have been selfish, and for that I am sincerely sorry-"

"Dad-" Harry tried to interrupt, not wanting his father to take the blame for everything that he himself had done wrong, but Severus shook his head.

"I should have realized that you were not yourself. That there was something so terribly wrong. I was hurt," he said haltingly, "by your behavior, and I allowed that hurt to overshadow my objectivity." He looked away. "I ignored all the signs that you needed help and I almost lost you-"

The word came out in a bit of gasp, and the feelings of guilt stewing in Harry's gut exploded. He had pushed his dad away...he could remember it now. How could he have thought his father didn't want him?

His dad's face had shifted a bit, but he could not hide the pain. Harry could clearly see it, etched deeply in his black eyes.

"I'm sorry," he said again, ridiculously repeating words that had likely lost all meaning. "I was insufferable. A complete git to Remus. Even my friends can't stand me now." Harry said, waving his hands a bit to get his point across.

"Your friends are here, Harry," Severus told him. Harry closed his mouth, surprised at that bit of news. "I told you earlier, and this time I want you to understand...no one is angry with you. Not even Remus," he added, anticipating Harry's protest. "You were not yourself, Harry, just as Poppy said. You were incomplete."

Harry swallowed.

"So I'm let off then?" he asked, trying to sound as sarcastic as he'd heard his father be, but he couldn't really manage it. He shook his head, frustrated with himself. "You said I hurt you and I know I hurt everyone else." It didn't matter that his father claimed not to be furious about how he'd acted. Or that even Sirius had said he wasn't upset that Harry had helped to trap him in a spaceless void for half a year.

"I allowed myself to be hurt," Severus told him. Harry shook his head, not even certain what he'd done to make his father feel that way.

"Because I didn't correct Scrimgeour at the banquet?" he asked. "I'm sorry I didn't tell everyone that you helped me. I should have, I know, but..."

Severus was shaking his head. "I do not care if no one is aware of what really happened. You know that." Harry balled his fingers into fists, unable to stop his agitation.

"Then what did I do?" he asked plaintively, sounding pathetic and incredibly childish.

The tiny muscle in his father's jaw, the one that Harry had come to recognize, jumped a little. "You did not do anything, Harry," he said firmly. "I interpreted your actions as ones of discomfort in my presence. I should have known better, I realize." The last part was just a murmur, as though he was talking to himself.

Shame filled the space that wasn't completely filled yet with guilt. Harry slumped a little. Severus studied him, and Harry felt too tired to try to explain that he hadn't meant any of it. He hadn't meant to hurt anyone, most especially his father.

Inexplicably, Severus reached down and gripped Harry's chin in his free hand. Harry stared up at him as the rough fingers gently cupped the sides of his face. "Do you have any idea how much I love you?" his father demanded in a hoarse whisper. Harry blinked up at him, shocked at the declaration.

And instead of the burning blaze he'd felt just before he'd woken up, Harry felt warmth against his storm. The familiar rush of security. Safety. And he could only nod, not trusting himself to speak.

And then Severus pulled Harry into his chest, his arms offering a familiar comfort. The heartbeat, the steady breathing, balanced him. And not even having to think about it, Harry wrapped his arms around his father. Severus' arms tightened and Harry let himself relax a little. Of course he knew how much Severus loved him. And for a brief instant, he clearly remembered the sacrifice Severus had begged Voldemort to allow on his behalf.

"How could you offer to let Voldemort have you instead?" He tried to make his words stern, but it was a bit difficult since he was talking into his father's shoulder. Severus' arms tightened their hold briefly before he pulled away. His hands remained on Harry's shoulders, for which Harry was grateful.

"I told you once that I would protect you until I no longer had the ability. Nothing has changed."

Harry smiled at that, but he said anyway, "What was I supposed to do with you trapped with Voldemort?" He felt very real irritation that his father had almost sacrificed himself. Severus looked vaguely amused at the question. "I would have had to come back to find you," he said seriously, and unlike his dad, he was not at all amused by the idea.

A fire had built behind his dad's eyes. A sense of renewed energy seemed to surround him; his lips lifted, though it was really his eyes that were smiling. "I doubt either Lupin or Black would have allowed you out of their sight long enough to attempt it," he said dryly.

Harry's eyes darted again to Sirius. He was watching them, as Pomfrey continued to wave her wand over him; it seemed to be taking her a very long time to complete her examination. Sirius' entire posture was stiff and uncomfortable. It made Harry feel very uneasy.

Severus was watching him, his own stance much more relaxed.

"He hates you," Harry murmured abruptly. And even though he hadn't meant it to, resentment seeped through his words.