Lily's Charm: The Gift

Chapter 23: Crash

Harry burrowed his feet into the damp sand; it squished pleasantly between his toes. He lifted his feet a bit and watched with a smile as the wet sand shivered off his toes in a sheath. "That Weather Charm is a brilliant bit of magic," he commented, glancing over at his father; his toes were still encased in leather. "You're not even going to take off your boots?" Harry asked, glancing critically up and down his father's perpetually black trousers and long-sleeved shirt; at least he'd taken off his waistcoat, though he was sitting perfectly straight in the sand, while Harry was leaning back on his palms, his face turned up to study his father.

"You probably swim in your clothes, don't you?" Harry teased. Severus gave him an amused glance, but didn't deny it.

"I have not been swimming since you were young."

"In your clothes?"

Severus didn't answer, his eyes smiling in echoing amusement of Harry's own.

But in all seriousness, he said, "I would not have worn anything that would have exposed the Mark."

Harry nodded, suddenly regretting the teasing questions.

"I have no excuse, of course, for wishing to keep my legs covered..."

Harry smiled again, despite himself. "I won't tell anyone if you take your shoes off," he said, his voice rising in suggestion. Severus seemed to consider it. Then Harry watched as he removed his leather boots and socks, and laid them carefully behind him. Harry tried not to grin too hard as his father stretched his legs toward the lapping water. The water eagerly leapt toward its new target, submerging all of Severus' long toes.

"We can work on shorter trousers tomorrow," Harry said with a smirk. "And actually, I think people generally lie on the beach shirtless." Severus slanted him a glance.

"Do not be surprised when I toss you into the water, with all of your clothes on, if you continue with these suggestions."

"I'm wearing trunks," Harry pointed out with a grin. He gestured to Severus' feet. "Put your toes in the sand," Harry instructed, digging his feet once more into the cool grains. "It feels good. It's squishy."

"Squishy," Severus echoed, in clear distaste, but he obediently guided his toes underneath the top layer of drenched sand; he kept them perfectly still in their little sodden cocoon.

"I think you're supposed to wiggle them about," Harry told him seriously. "So you really get the sand in between each toe...like this." He demonstrated, wiggling his toes merrily as the tide swished against his ankles.

Severus didn't even bother to fight the smile that sprung to his lips at the look of concentration on his son's face; the tip of Harry's tongue was poking out of the corner of his mouth as he studied the movements of his toes. He glanced up and grinned when he caught Severus' smile. Without realizing he was doing it, Severus' toes dug further into the sand; it was indeed squishy.

"Did you and mum ever go to the beach?"

Severus nodded, not missing a beat with the unexpected question. "We took you with us after you were born. James accompanied us as well. Albus secured a small beach, much like this one, for us to use on occasion."

Harry thrust his toes upward, spraying sand into the air at the abrupt movement. He swished his feet back and forth a little, dragging a line into the sand with his heels. The water receded again; the make-shift trench caught some of it. Harry leaned forward and scooped the trapped water into his cupped palms, bringing some of the sand with it. The mixture leaked through his fingers.

"Didn't James ever wish he had a family of his own...after all that time?" Harry shook the gloppy mess from his fingers. The question had licked at his brain for months now, swirling somewhere near the guilt and worry he'd never really acknowledged when it came to James.

"He never said as much," Severus answered as he brought his toes carefully out of the sand. "I am certain he would have found much happiness, however, in a family of his own at some point." Harry nodded, feeling uncertain, but not really knowing why. Severus cast two quick spells over his wet, sandy feet. Clean and impeccably dry, he tucked them under his legs. He turned his attention to his son.

"Your mother always and I eventually, considered James just as much a part of our family as the Weasleys consider you to be a part of theirs. In the end...I considered him a brother." He hesitated and Harry knew what it cost him to continue. "That is why his supposed betrayal affected me as it did."

Harry nodded again. He rubbed his palms against his thighs as he tried to figure out what he wanted to say. "Did James...did he consider you the same way?"

Severus didn't answer right away; he turned his eyes to stare at the white, foaming caps of water in the distance. "I will never know for certain."

"He must have...if he left you that message in the Pensieve. I heard it, that night." As a confession, it wasn't much of one, but Harry waited nervously for his father to respond.

"It is possible."

Harry drew his knees up, frustrated. "He cared about you," he said firmly. When his father didn't respond, Harry scooted closer. "I know it's hard to understand that he could, that any of us could, after the way your parents treated you...and after believing for so long that nobody ever did, but you have to stop thinking you aren't allowed to be loved."

Harry hadn't expected any of those words to tumble out of his mouth, but he didn't regret them.

"I believe you need to accept the same."

Harry sat back against his calves, the wet sand on his feet immediately created two wet patches through the fabric of his swimming trunks. "What do you mean?"

"Why did you tell Black to leave?"

"Because he said he didn't want to be stuck waiting around Grimmauld Place for me," Harry answered before he could stop himself.

"Those were his exact words?"

"Not exactly...but he didn't want to, that was the point."

"I think it is likely that you misunderstood him," Severus said, leaning forward just a little bit. "Which is my point. Whatever he did say, you immediately assumed it meant he did not care for you. Just as you believed Lupin would stop caring for you, simply because you treated him with disrespect. Just as you believe my desire not to discipline you, means I do not care enough. Who, after all, has cared enough to curb your penchant for finding trouble?"

Harry opened his mouth, automatically wanting to protest, but then he slowly closed it again. His father, plain and simple was one of the most infuriating people he'd ever met. Not only was he completely right, he'd also managed to steer the conversation away from himself, and Harry hadn't even noticed.

"I'm claiming my topic. I wanted to talk about you, not me."

"No," Severus said simply, startling Harry enough that his mouth actually fell open in surprise. Severus went right on, "I am going to finally speak plainly about the topic we skirted around earlier...a topic which I have not wanted to broach, even with myself."

Harry closed his mouth, but he was still staring at his father, feeling bewildered and more than slightly anxious.

"Do you know why I am so hesitant to discipline you?"

Harry didn't know why, aside from his father's rather ridiculous claim that he'd punished him enough. Harry nodded, resigning himself to another unnecessary discussion about how much his father had hurt him. "Yeah."

Severus gazed at his son, his mouth set in a grim line. "Do you realize that it could have just as easily been you on the receiving end of that strap?"

Harry could do nothing stop the icy prickle spreading through his chest. "I..." There was absolutely no coherent thought to follow.

"My grandfather was every bit as abusive as Tobias. As was his father before him. For generations, the men in the Snape line have used that particular piece of dragon's hide to ensure that their sons understood their place." His voice was hard and unyielding, and his words made Harry want to sick up in the sand. He knew his father could sense it, but Severus continued on purposefully, "Before Lily, there was no question that my sons would receive the same lessons, with that same strap."

Harry stared. He couldn't possibly have heard that right. He tried to ignore the numbness spreading toward his limbs. "You...you wouldn't do that..." His thoughts wouldn't hold still.

With his eyes dark and turbulent, Severus asked, "Do you remember, that you were afraid, if only for a moment, that I would hit you, after you fought with Pinth?"

Harry couldn't deny it, not when he'd admitted it that very next morning.

"I left you in the sitting room, Harry, so that I wouldn't hit you."

The tingling ache spread outward to Harry's fingertips, where it settled. "You wanted to hit me, you mean?" he asked shakily, the urge to retch violently almost taking over. Severus shook his head sharply; he took both of Harry's shoulders in his long-fingered hands, making certain that he had his son's full attention.

"No, Harry," he said so firmly that the words were actually harsh, "I wanted to keep you safe. But my unwillingness to strike you goes against every one of my instincts. I was conditioned to deal harshly with others, most especially with my child; a cycle of cruelty that I will not allow to continue any further."

Harry didn't know what to say; didn't know how to respond to something so dark.

"Do you realize what it would do to me were I to lose control, even for a moment? If I were to physically hurt you? Nothing you will ever do would be worth the risk of losing control over my emotions. I cannot allow myself to ever become too angry with you."

"But I..."

Severus pressed his fingertips into Harry's shoulders, giving comfort and bringing Harry's attention back to him instantly. "What purpose would it serve for me to be angry because you called me a foul name?" he asked quietly. "I, unlike my father, am well aware that anger and punishments will not force you to respect me."

Harry stared at his father, feeling like he'd been boxed in the gut. A dull splatter of pain radiated from his solar plexus.

"You are sixteen, Harry and you are well aware of the difference between right and wrong." He smiled slightly, and oddly enough, the expression wasn't at all strained. "And I believe that you especially do not need to be disciplined for every mistake you make. You punish yourself far more effectively than I ever could."

Harry nodded, not really in response to what his father had just said, but because he could think of nothing else to do. Harry's insides felt raw and chewed up. The thought of Severus having planned to hit his own son one day with that ruby strap...that Severus had to work so hard not to hit him now...

"All right..." What else could he say?

"All right?" Severus echoed, with narrowed eyes. "You have more to say on the subject."

"I don't," Harry tried to deny, but it was clear his father wasn't going to accept that.

"Enough evasion," he said in the voice that Harry didn't often feel like arguing with it. "Tell me exactly what is on your mind."

Exactly? Harry glanced out of the waves; they were crashing noisily against the rocks again. "You said once that I obeyed you out of fear...do you remember that?" Silly question, really. "You were right...at least you were right then."

"You had no other reason to obey me," Severus said flatly.

Harry swallowed a bit, trying to allay the numbness in his throat. "But I do now." He turned his head back toward his father. "I do respect you. I know you don't believe me, and maybe it's because you can't believe me, but there isn't any reason why I shouldn't respect you. I know you now, like no one other than mum, and maybe James, has. I used to hope I'd grow up to be more like Sirius." He smiled wryly. So much for not saying it; Severus didn't react save his lips pursing together. "But now...well, now I'd take it as a pretty high compliment if someone said I was like you."

Warmth spread through Severus' flames, and Harry thought his father looked a little dazed.

"I had no idea you had to work so hard at overcoming your father," Harry said thickly. His throat was throbbing again with emotions, in response now to the overwhelming happiness his father was feeling.

"Before I could even allow myself to indulge my feelings for your mother, I had to be certain that I could keep my father caged. It is not an easy task." Severus reached a hand out toward Harry, and lightly brushed the few clumps of lazy hair away from his scar. "I would turn my wand on myself before I would raise a hand to you."

Harry pressed his teeth tightly together, willing his tears to stay where they belonged. If anyone had spoken the same words, they would have seemed overdramatic, but Harry knew without hesitation that his father meant them. And it only made his respect for Severus grow--the ability to overcome the baser instincts which Tobias had punished into him was a remarkable testament to his father's character.

He had a sort of quiet strength that Harry wanted to emulate. And Harry knew that he didn't want to do anything to ever push his father to a point where he'd have to call on that strength to keep Tobias' demons away. Harry wanted to tell his dad that, but his feelings seemed too difficult to put into words.

"I do realize that there are other ways to discipline you, Harry." Severus continued with a grimace. "I have not performed well in that aspect of my responsibility toward you. In all honesty, I do not know that I am capable." He frowned. "However, if that is what you need me to do, in order for you feel that you are well cared for, I will."

Harry looked away again as he rubbed his clammy hands together. They were back in that bizarre territory again. "It's not that...not exactly." Honesty was exceedingly difficult.

"You wish to be normal."

Harry's eyes darted to his father's face. He couldn't deny it. Harry blinked in surprise when Severus caught his scrunched fingers in both hands; he hadn't realized he'd been twisting them quite so violently.

"I am just as proud of your accomplishments as Arthur is of his children's." Harry's heart swelled at that; it deflated and twisted just as quickly with his father's next words. "And I was just as distressed as Arthur would have been if his son had described him as an arsehole." Severus fingers curled around Harry's. "Furthermore Harry, I was surprised by your behavior during the past few days, as any father would be. I had not expected you to demonstrate such callous disregard for your friends, or Lupin. Or for me," he added quietly.

The words made Harry feel very small.

"It wasn't because anyone took over my mind," Harry told his father miserably, finally finding the courage to speak again. And for the first time since they'd discussed this, Severus didn't immediately argue with him. Not having expected to be allowed to explain, Harry continued uncertainly, "Even if Sirius and Voldemort were affecting me, I knew I shouldn't speak to Remus the way I did, or to you either."

Severus was silent for long enough that Harry began twisting his fingers again, waiting for him to say something. "I have been selfish in my hesitation to hold you responsible for your actions." Severus' words were hushed as he stared at his son. Harry stared right back, surprised. "I am still unconvinced that you were entirely responsible for your actions while Voldemort had your soul. What matters though, is that you believe you are." Severus let out a heavy breath; a sigh for anyone else. "And I should have given Minerva instructions to treat you as any other student."

Harry could sense the hesitancy surrounding his father's statement, as if he was waiting for Harry to resist the pronouncement.

But Harry wasn't going to argue it. "Sirius and Voldemort may have been affecting me that night, but nobody made me drink firewhisky." He hesitated, but he wanted to be as honest as his father was being. "I knew you wouldn't approve...and I didn't care." He had to look away as he finished, "I was pretty angry with you."

"You imbibed as a form of rebellion against me?"

Harry shrugged at the curious question. Honesty was overrated. "I probably wouldn't have done it if I hadn't been so angry with you," he admitted finally. His eyes spun quickly back to his father as he felt Severus' flames vibrating with humor. "Why is that funny?" he demanded. Severus shook his head, still clearly amused.

"You do not even realize how very normal you are," he said, his eyes glinting with even more humor. "I had no idea you would wish to do something simply to irritate me."

"I didn't..." Harry cut off his protest, at his father's raised eyebrow. "All right, I did, I suppose." He shrugged sheepishly. Severus returned the gesture with his own half-smile as he pulled his hands away from Harry's. His eyes turned serious.

"I trust you have no further plans to use firewhisky to irritate me?"

"No," Harry answered instantly. He had absolutely no desire to irritate his father, not after everything Severus had said. Severus pinched his lips together as he considered his son.

"Harry..." He paused to glance briefly at his clasped hands before claiming Harry's emerald gaze once more. Severus' black eyes were full of apprehension. "...I have come to expect a level of maturity from you in your decision making. And I resisted your earlier explanations about the firewhisky because I did not believe you capable of such immature behavior. I am...disappointed that you made a conscious choice to do something that you knew you shouldn't do."

Shame coursed through Harry's chest.

He swallowed, wishing he could pull his eyes away, but it would have been too cowardly. His father's quiet words were entirely unpleasant, even though he wasn't certain why. He wasn't even being punished. But this felt much worse than when Severus had restricted him to their quarters after he'd brawled with Pinth.

Of course, Harry was aware that Severus had made an effort to punish him because he had wanted to act like a proper father; an attempt to allow Harry to feel like a proper son. It had been a rather botched attempt, since it hadn't really been much of a punishment at all. It had actually been a badly disguised charade--the two of them trying to play the prescribed roles of father and son.

This was different.

This was Severus, disappointed in something Harry had done. This feeling was entirely new to Harry--the dull ache of loss his father's disappointment caused. Harry found he didn't care for it. But he accepted it anyway, knowing it was deserved. "I'm sorry," he murmured, his volume dictated by the swelling in his throat.

It was the only way he knew how to show his regret; he wanted to call the words back as soon as they left his mouth, knowing his dad wouldn't want to hear them. But to Harry's surprise, Severus inclined his head in acceptance of his apology.

"I will expect you to use better judgment in future," Severus said quietly. He didn't say a word about the consequences if Harry wasn't able to meet his father's expectations.

He didn't need to.

Not when Harry wanted so much for his father to be proud of him; he didn't want to disappoint him again.

Harry nodded when he realized Severus was waiting for something. Harry's throat was too clogged to speak now, and he wasn't sure what he could say anyway. Shame was still prickling his fingertips. What are you supposed say after your father tells you that he's disappointed in you? He hoped his nod would be enough, for now.

Severus nodded crisply, though a measure of tension in his face remained, even after he'd turned to watch the waves. Harry, with his bottom lip firmly crushed between his teeth, turned toward the water as well.

The crashing waves filled the silence.

Severus finally spoke, his voice deeper than usual. "My disappointment in your behavior, changes nothing between us."

Harry pulled his eyes from the water. Severus' face had lost its tension, but his dark eyes were hesitant.

Harry hadn't realized he'd been holding his breath. It gusted out of his chest. Trying to keep the atmosphere light, he asking with a half-smile, "You still love me, you mean?"

"Yes," Severus said seriously, "I do."

Harry hadn't suspected otherwise, not really. But it was nice to have it confirmed, all the same. He could even accept that maybe it wasn't childish to need to hear it. After all, it was nice for everyone to hear they were loved, wasn't it? Feeling a bit foolish, but thinking his father needed the words just as much as he did, Harry said just as seriously, "I love you as well."

It was the third time Harry had said those words out loud to his father, and as though he was hearing it for the first time, Severus' flames sparked in pleased surprise. He nodded once, seeming to reassure himself that he had heard correctly, and then he smiled just a little. The uncertainty within his father's reaction, made Harry want to ask if there was a portrait of Tobias in the house, so that he could give the prig a piece of his mind.

"Do you want to go in the water?" Harry asked abruptly, wanting to lay Tobias to rest, and itching to walk into the water, so he could feel the sand and water in between his toes. Severus eyed the water with a wary eye, but he nodded.

"If you would like."

Harry smiled. "We can build a sand castle or something first. Ron said they used to do that when they went to the beach." He cocked his head a little. "Did you and mum ever do that?"

Severus looked surprised at the question, but he nodded. He seemed to be indulging in a rather pleasant memory. "Your mother enjoyed building sand castles with you. You seemed to prefer destroying her work," he elaborated with a smirk.

Harry smiled slowly. "I promise I won't destroy this one," he said solemnly.

"I am glad to hear it," Severus drawled. "As I recall, I ended up with a mouthful of sand the last time you destroyed one."

"Yeah?" Harry asked interestedly.

Severus nodded as he stood. He brushed the great expanse of black material covering his chest and legs with precise sweeps of his fingers until there was not a grain of sand remaining. "You were incorrigible," he said as he offered a hand to Harry. Harry's lips began to twitch, but he didn't take his father's hand; his fingers were buried in the wet sand near the shoreline.

There was a muffled splat.

Severus' eyes widened as he felt a damp weight against his chest. He looked down; soggy clumps of sand were scattered across his black shirt. Harry was trying very hard not to laugh. Severus narrowed his eyes. "Did you just throw sand at me?" he demanded.

Harry laughed. "I was just trying to recapture our last visit to the beach," he explained between chuckles, spreading his hands in innocence.

"Your aim was off," Severus told him dryly. Harry scrambled to his feet.

"No, it wasn't." He grinned as his dad's eyebrows swept upwards in surprise. Harry gestured excitedly toward a spot that would be just far enough from the creeping tide. "Come on, Dad, you can help me figure out how to make Hogwarts out of sand."

--

TBC...