Lily's Charm: The Gift

1996

He couldn't sleep.

No matter how many times he rolled over, or how many different lumpy shapes he mashed his pillow into, Harry simply continued to stare at the murky darkness overhead. If he squinted real hard, he imagined he could see the roof of their tent; they'd spent last night sleeping on the beach as well. Harry had wanted to experience the camping trip they'd hadn't managed before Voldemort showed up at Riddle Manor. And except for the few hours before bed tonight, he'd enjoyed camping with his father. Of course, now he couldn't sleep...

He'd been mostly thinking of Sirius...though he was also spending a fair amount of time, trying not to think about Ginny. His cheeks warmed at the mere thought of seeing her again, and it wasn't the normal fleeting thought of anticipation and pleasure that usually coursed through him. Not at all.

And that was all thanks to his father.

Harry almost groaned in sudden remembered horror, though he managed to stifle it before it escaped. With an agitated jerk, he ripped the crumpled pillow from behind his head and smashed it unceremoniously over his face. Unfortunately, lack of air didn't really make the memory go away.

This time, Harry did groan but he figured it would be muffled by the pillow. He hoped so anyway. He didn't think he could stand to have his father wake up and resume their conversation. He didn't think that was very likely, but he didn't want to risk it either way. But even as he tried not to remember the conversation, it kept replaying itself in his head. No matter how hard he pressed the pillow into his face with his crossed arms.

"Harry, if you cannot bear the thought of discussing sex with Ginny, do you truly believe you are ready to have sex with her?"

"I never said I was!" Harry spluttered indignantly, and though his cheeks were already on fire from his father's previous suggestion, they burned even more now. Teach Ginny a Contraceptive Charm?! Was his father daft?

He would have liked to ask as much, but he bit the inside of his cheek and forced himself not to. Though if his father said sex one more time...well, Harry wasn't going to be able to restrain himself, no matter how hard his teeth gouged the inside of his cheek.

"Harry, there is no need for you to be embarrassed," Severus told him calmly, ignoring Harry's less than respectful retort, "this is simply a demonstration so that you will be prepared-"

"This is completely daft!" Harry finally exploded in a huffy breath. Well, at least he hadn't actually said his father was the daft one. "I never said I was going to...er...do anything!" Of course not. No matter what he wanted to do with Ginny, he wasn't going to admit it to his father, of all people. " Why are you so insistent on this?" he demanded, frustrated and blazing with embarrassment.

"Because," his father explained in that same relaxed voice, "I was sixteen once, Harry and no matter what your current plans are, I am aware that they might change before you even have a chance to realize they have."

Even through the crawl of heat on his neck and face, Harry could see the logic in that. He hadn't, after all, had any plans to do anything beyond kissing Ginny that night in the tower. He hadn't meant to allow his hands to roam toward Ginny's breasts; hadn't meant to brush his thumbs against the silky fabric shielding them. He hadn't let it go too far, of course. But he'd wanted to--he'd longed to slide his fingers underneath the restraining silk, to press them against the soft skin underneath--and maybe if Ginny had wanted it as well, he would have.

Maybe.

He sighed and abruptly cut off that train of thought. "All right," he conceded. He waved his hand vaguely, hoping his dad would understand that he wanted to get on with it, without his actually having to say it. Severus nodded, easily taking the cue. He pulled his wand from his sleeve.

"The incantation is, Etiam Sperma," he explained. Harry's hands twisted in his lap as his neck glowed. It took almost more effort than he had to keep his eyes focused on his father. "The spell will last until you cast Finite. If you cast anything in the interim, you will need to specify which spell you wish to cancel."

Harry nodded mutely, though he almost asked for a Cooling Charm; his clothes were stifling him.

Severus didn't comment on Harry's discomfort as he brought his wand arm up. And then Severus' wand was moving in a quick set of loopy spirals that were punctuated at the end with a rather alarming slashing motion.

Harry's eyes widened a little, which Severus answered with a wan smile. "The spell was developed by a witch with a bit of a tendency toward the macabre."

Harry thought his skin had probably gone a little pale, but he simply nodded, wanting to get this whole embarrassing demonstration over with. If he'd known what his father was going to direct him to do next, he wouldn't have been so eager. As it was, Harry barely managed not to choke on his own tongue. He couldn't even demand, "You want me to do what?!"

Severus nodded calmly as Harry goggled, his eyes calm, his features relaxed. "The spell will not damage you," Severus reassured his son. "Even if you cast it incorrectly, which you undoubtedly will the first few times, there will be no lasting harm."

Harry stared, wondering if a charm to test his temperature would actually read a fever.

"I will turn my back, Harry...or wait outside if you wish," Severus continued, gleaning the other reason for Harry's look of horror.

No, I prefer to be half-starkers with you right here, Harry almost snapped, but since he didn't really want to actually say the word, he bit his tongue. And at least his dad had sounded less than completely composed with that last remark. Oddly, it made Harry feel the tiniest bit okay with their conversation.

Harry cleared his throat. "How will I know...erm...if the spell...works?"

A slight pause was the only way Harry could tell his father really wasn't composed in the least. "I will perform a diagnostic."

A diagnostic...

That's it, Harry thought miserably. Maybe if I agree to make some sort of vow never to touch Ginny again, he'll just let me go to sleep. Merlin...nothing could be worth this. He was perfectly happy with the way things were now, and he could live with simply snogging Ginny...couldn't he? They didn't need to do anything else. After all, how much better can sex really be? Harry reasoned as his father waited for him to say he was ready.

It couldn't possibly be worth all this trouble.

It had taken more than a dozen fumbling attempts before his father was satisfied that he could effectively cast the charm. And Harry had almost caught himself on his zipper more than once, in his haste to finish with the entire humiliating debacle as soon as possible. But Severus didn't relent until Harry had demonstrated his competence three times.

"About time," Harry growled in frustration as soon as his father pronounced the session over. Flinging his wand down onto his camp bed in frustration, he simply flopped onto the rumpled rug and turned toward the taut fabric that created a slanted wall next to the bed. He pulled the rug rather forcefully up to his shoulder and lay there, staring furiously at the dark fabric.

He knew he was being immature, but he felt oddly out of control. It was stupid really; he wasn't angry at his father. At least he had no reason to be...

The light in the tent was dimmed then, and Harry heard the shuffle of footsteps beside the bed, and the quiet schlip of wood against the fabric as it was lifted up and then settled carefully on the little table near Harry's head. Harry's gut twinged with guilt then, as he listened to his father's unnecessary, and silent consideration. Inexplicably grateful--though he wasn't exactly certain what he was grateful for--Harry twisted his shoulder round a bit.

Severus was standing near the opposite bed, removing his waistcoat in preparation for sleep. Harry smiled a little as he watched him fold the garment with four precise motions.

Severus looked up.

Even though it was dark, Harry could sense an answering smile in the dark eyes. That somehow settled the most of the rest of Harry's furious mortification.

It was back full force now though, as Harry tried not to think about Ginny in the darkness. There was no way--no way in bloody hell that he was ever going to be able to perform that charm in front of Ginny. And that realization caused Harry a rather disconcerting mix of embarrassment and disappointment. He wouldn't sleep with Ginny without it; he knew that with alarming certainty. And if he couldn't even imagine performing a Conceptive Charm, with Ginny anywhere in the vicinity... Damn it, his father was right.

He wasn't ready to sleep with Ginny. He didn't really know why he was so disappointed; he hadn't really had any specific plans to anyway. At least...not at the moment.

With an abrupt movement, Harry whipped the pillow off his face. He winced as it knocked into the little table. The table, along with Harry's wand and glasses, toppled to the floor with a muffled thump. Harry glanced up quickly.

His father stirred in the near-darkness.

"Sorry," Harry mumbled as Severus propped himself on his elbows and squinted over at him. Harry leaned over the edge of the bed to retrieve the fallen items; he had to twist one set of fingers into the bedclothes to stop himself from sliding onto the floor.

Harry blinked as light filled the room; it wasn't exactly sun-bright, but it took a moment for his eyes to adjust.

"Are you all right?" Severus asked in concern as he watched Harry righting the table. Harry laid his wand on the top, but kept his glasses in his hand, intending to put them on. He pushed off the edge of the bed with his arms and scooted backwards a bit before sitting up and glancing up again at his father.

"Yeah. I couldn't sleep so I thought I'd--"

"Harry..."

Harry stopped speaking, a little unnerved by the unusually slow murmur. In a jerky movement, Severus sat fully upright; he swung his pajamas-clad legs over the side of the bed. Severus stared at Harry, his eyes narrowed as he studied him. Studied him, as though he'd never seen Harry before.

"What?" Harry asked, his stomach instantly transforming itself into knots. "What's wrong?"

"You...your face..." Severus shook his head, as though trying to clear jumbled thoughts. One of Harry's hands instantly went up to his face; he was even more unnerved by his father's stammering. Looking slightly dazed, Severus slipped his wand from his sleeve and waved it without a word. A mirror appeared in his hand. Harry took it as it was offered.

He stared at his reflection.

He watched as his reflection's dark eyebrows furrowed. A sudden swoop of panic began setting off alarm bells in Harry's head. "What happened to my face?"

"Put your glasses on."

Harry looked up sharply. "My glasses..." Harry's eyes widened as he realized they were still waiting in his hand. And that he could see his father perfectly well across the tent's length. He could even make out the tiny studious lines around Severus' eyes. His father's suspicions finally washed over Harry like a tidal wave.

Feeling like a drowned kneazle, Harry hastily shoved his glasses onto his nose. "Bloody hell!" he exclaimed. "Everything's even blurrier than it was this morning." He ripped the glasses off again, and grinned. Perfect clarity. "Can you perform a diagnostic?" he demanded excitedly.

Looking rather dazed, Severus did as he was asked. He stared at his wand when he'd finished. "Your vision is perfectly normal. It seems the Veil affected you just as I thought it would." He sounded...awed.

Harry gripped the frames. With shaking fingers, he brought the mirror back up to his face. "Do you think the Veil's finished with me?" he asked, hoping he didn't sound too wishful. He didn't want to hurt his father's feelings, after all. And really, he had no objection to looking like his father. He simply didn't want to not look like himself anymore.

"I suspect the Veil will be unable to complete the transformation, since you were not wholly within its influence."

Harry brought the mirror down again. "You aren't disappointed by that?" he asked, surprised at the satisfaction he heard in his father's voice.

Severus shook his head. "You look more like your mother now," he said quietly. Harry studied the mirror again, his eyes narrowed. He didn't though. Not really. He still looked very much like James, though some of his features--perhaps the ones that had already belonged to his father--were more obviously from the Snape line of genes. Harry found himself wondering if his father looked anything like Tobias.

His chin was definitely broader, Harry decided as he lifted it a little. And his nose, which had never particularly reminded him of James anyway, was perhaps a little longer. Just like his father's. Harry smiled.

"I look more like you."

Severus' eyes gleamed with unsuppressed pleasure. And Harry knew then that's why his father had been stammering. His comment about looking more like his mum had been self-preservation.

Harry slipped his glasses on again to compare; it was almost impossible to tell that his features had changed. The glasses simply made him look like Harry...and like James. Harry took them off again. The difference was remarkable.

Harry laughed as he set the mirror face-down on the little table. It made sense now. The Veil hadn't been trying to make them perfect, nor had it been banishing all traces of dark magic. "You think it was putting us back to the way we were meant to be then?"

"I believe," Severus said with small nod, "that it had more to do with returning those within its sphere back to a state of innocence. Without Voldemort's influence overshadowing our lives, you would have looked more like you do now, though without any of James' influence. Just as I would never have taken the Mark."

"And Remus lost his innocence when he was bitten," Harry added thoughtfully.

Severus nodded. "The Veil has obviously been attempting to complete its work on you since we returned."

Harry frowned. "Remus didn't have scars on his face anymore." Severus nodded, and Harry wondered if he had noticed himself. "And Sirius..." Harry continued after a pause and a sigh, "...it sounds odd maybe, but I noticed that he doesn't look so haunted anymore. And he almost looked younger, I suppose."

Severus nodded contemplatively. "The Veil's way of erasing his years spent in Azkaban." Severus narrowed his eyes a little. "You were reluctant to mention it?" he queried. "I thought I made it clear, Harry that you need not feel uncomfortable if you wish to speak about your godfather."

Harry set his glasses beside the mirror. How strange it was to not feel their weight against the bridge of his nose. "I know. And I'm not." He shrugged, his hands now restless in his lap. "I didn't want to talk about Sirius because of me, though." At his father's look of confusion, Harry elaborated, "I was really quite rude to him. He tried to apologize, but I was too angry--or hurt, maybe--to listen to him properly. I even told him I didn't want him around." He winced as he repeated it. Sirius hadn't deserved that. Sirius, after all, hadn't said anything intentionally cruel. Not like that.

Suddenly feeling wretched, Harry hung his head in his hands. "Can't I get anything right?"

"Harry, you simply allowed your emotions to guide the discussion, which is not surprising given your state of mind at the time."

Harry made a face as he brought his feet up onto the bed and crossed his arms loosely atop his drawn-up knees. He leaned his back against the fabric wall, which was surprisingly stable. "How long do you suppose it will be before I can't be called mental anymore?"

"I did not say you were mental."

Harry smiled at the affronted look on his father's face. "I was feeling a bit mental," Harry explained easily. The admission didn't really bother him much.

"I assume that means you are not any longer?" Severus asked, leaning forward a bit. Harry shook his head.

"Not really. Those exercises were really helpful...last night anyway..."

"Ah, yes," Severus murmured as he nodded. "Your inability to sleep. Is there anything in particular keeping you awake?"

Harry felt his cheeks heating a little. He tried to will it away. "Sirius," he finally said, and didn't feel guilty since it was at least partially true.

"Harry," Severus said impatiently, "Black will forgive you. You will simply explain that you were feeling out of sorts--"

"Mental again?" Harry teased.

"Out of sorts and that you did not mean you wished him to leave," Severus continued on as though he hadn't been interrupted at all.

Harry sighed; his good mood had evaporated. "I'll write him," he decided resignedly. But then he groaned. "You realize, don't you, that he'll go mental when he sees the way I look."

"I had not realized your vocabulary was so reliant on that one word," Severus said as his lips twitched. Harry frowned at him.

"Well," he insisted, "how else would you describe what'll happen when Sirius sees that I don't even look like me?" He scowled deeper. "Which, by the way is completely mental, the way it happened so quickly."

"My Mark and Lupin's blood were changed even more swiftly," Severus reminded him. "However, you are correct. Black will likely find the change disconcerting at best."

Harry snorted. "Disconcerting."

"You can hardly help the way you look, Harry."

"I can't help being your son either."

"No, you cannot. And if you remember, Harry, Black was not angry with you. Not once."

Harry pondered that long after his father had spelled the lights off again.

--

Harry felt the tug in his navel as the Portkey activated. He was pulled along with the dizzying rush of the Portkey's swirling currents, and then a moment later he was standing on dewy grass, with his father's fingers around his arm keeping him firmly upright.

"All right?" Severus queried softly as the world slowed its spinning.

"Yeah...thanks," Harry answered after a moment consumed with deep breaths. He nodded at his father's second questioning look before Severus dropped his fingers. Harry was steady by then, and rather proud of not meeting the soft grass with his nose. He looked around excitedly, knowing he was probably making a fool of himself with his wide grin, but it was hard to dwell on it.

He was standing in the Chudley Canons' Quidditch Pitch! And the team was flying above his head, going through some warm-ups, by the looks of it. One of the players paused, his broomstick pointing toward the ground.

"Harry!" The greeting had probably punctured some eardrums above, since Harry could hear it clear as a bell on the ground. The player began waving madly, even as he dove suddenly toward Harry and Severus. Harry's grin only widened. He waved back. And a moment later, Oliver Wood was hopping excitedly from his broom. "Good to see you, Harry!" he said cheerfully, his own grin matching Harry's. He grabbed Harry's arm and pumped it up and down.

"Thanks, Oliver," Harry said sincerely. Oliver glanced him up and down.

"You look different," he said thoughtfully. "What happened to your glasses?"

"I am testing a temporary Eyesight Enhancement Elixir," Severus supplied from beside Harry. Harry had a hard time keeping a straight face at that pronouncement.

The rest of the team was just hopping off their brooms when Oliver turned to Severus.

"Oh. Good morning, Professor," he said. He was still smiling, but his tone was much more reserved. Not unfriendly...exactly.

"Good morning, Mr. Wood," Severus said politely, inclining his head.

Oliver nodded before waving his teammates closer. "This is the rest of the team, Harry."

Harry didn't really need introductions, of course, since he and Ron spent hours poring over every available scrap of information available about Britain's Quidditch teams, and all the members of the Canons, except Oliver, had been on the team for a number of years. But he listened anyway as Oliver introduced everyone; he even shook a few hands. And all of them were smiling at him.

"And this is Harry Potter, as you all know," Oliver finished, but then he glanced quickly at Severus. "Well...it's Snape now, I guess...right, Harry?" He looked uncertain.

"Yeah," Harry said quickly. Then, since none of the team looked particularly upset by the correction, he added, "This is my father, Severus Snape."

The team nodded. The two Beaters had attended Hogwarts; they both offered a quiet greeting for their former professor. Severus greeted them in turn. One of the Chasers, a tall curly-haired blond named Owen August, grinned at Severus.

"Good to see you again, sir," he said, and he actually sounded it. Severus' nod was a noticeably warmer. It was no real surprise since he'd been in Slytherin, and graduated just before Harry had begun his first year.

"You are doing well, Mr. August."

August nodded, suddenly looking more serious. He smiled once more, before he said to Harry, "Glad you could make it, Harry."

"Thanks for inviting me."

August grinned. "Call me Auggie," he said with an easy smile. "Wood's been talking about you ever since he got here. We thought you might say yes to him. We had to see you play."

Harry smiled at Oliver, remembering fondly the older boy's days as Gryffindor's overly enthusiastic captain.

"I'll be retiring soon, Harry," the teams' Seeker volunteered with a sly grin.

Oliver colored a little at Harry's look of surprise. Oliver nudged his teammate, who simply continued to smile.

"You interested, Harry?" August asked eagerly, his eyes bright.

"Maybe you ought to see if you think I'm any good first," Harry said with a wry smile. "And anyway, it'll be almost two years until I can properly tryout." His smile turned smug. There. That would hold them off. He was just here to watch their practice, and later, their match against Puddlemere United.

But it seemed they weren't to be deterred. "You brought your broom though, didn't you?" one of the Beaters asked quickly. "You can practice with us."

The entire team was watching him expectantly. "Erm..." Harry gestured toward his father, who was watching him intently. "...I don't want to leave my dad all alone."

"I'm sure we won't mind keeping him company, Harry."

Harry spun around. Ginny, Remus and Hermione were standing before him, though it was Remus who had spoken. Ron had already attached himself to Oliver and was demanding introductions. His blue eyes were almost feverish. Harry grinned.

Ginny had him in a hug a second later.

He'd expected to at least feel some of the same embarrassment which he'd felt last night, but Harry felt nothing but happiness to see her. He dropped a kiss to her soft hair, breathing deeply as he pressed his lips against the smooth strands. She smelled good.

Ginny stretched up, and her lips grazed his ear. "Don't ask about Tonks." Momentarily startled, Harry snapped his eyes to Remus. Remus was handing a folded newspaper to Severus, looking perfectly at ease.

"They didn't make it up?" Harry whispered back. Ginny shook her head. She gave him a quick, and very chaste kiss on the cheek before pulling away. But then she was staring at him in confusion.

"Harry..." she murmured.

"Why do you need a glamour, Harry?" Hermione asked suddenly, her entire face scrunched up as she stared at him. Remus had turned toward Harry again; his brown eyes widened in surprise.

Harry stepped away from the team, who was still occupied with Ron's many questions. "It's not a glamour, Hermione," he said quietly. "It's a bit of a long story. Has to do with Remus' not so furry little problem though."

Hermione perked up at the riddle.

Ginny was still staring at him; her brown eyes had brightened, and Harry couldn't mistake the reason for her goofy smile. It made him flush with pleasure. He hadn't even wondered what Ginny would think of his new look.

"You're gonna practice with them, aren't you, Harry?" Ron had grabbed Harry's elbow, and he was staring at his mate with wide eyes.

"I-"

"Are you barking mad, Harry?" Ron demanded. "It's the Canons, Harry! The Chudley Canons, and they want you to practice with them." He shook Harry's arm insistently. "You've got to, Harry!"

"Well..." Harry hemmed, and then thinking it might be nice to actually use his fame for something good for once, he gazed at Oliver, with what he hoped was a pointed look. He needn't have bothered though. August stepped forward.

"Why don't you join us as well, then...Weasley, was it?"

Ron's eyes shone like two priceless sapphires. "You want me to play with you?" he squeaked. August smiled at him.

"Sure, Weasley. You're on the Gryffindor team, aren't you?"

Ron's head bobbed up and down. His grip became painful on Harry's elbow. "Harry! You've got to play now!"

"All right," Harry agreed, smiling at his friend. Ron beamed, but then his smile faltered.

"I don't have a broom though..."

Oliver waved him over. "We have extra supplies," he explained as he led Ron away. Ron's grin had returned.

Hermione was grinning as well, though at Harry. Harry shrugged self-consciously. He flushed when Ginny kissed his cheek again. Her grin matched Ron's almost exactly. The grin turned a little more...slow as she reached up two fingers to stroke along his jaw. The appreciation in her eyes made Harry very eager to have a few minutes alone with her...

He gave Ginny a kiss on her cold lips for good measure, which it seemed August watched with interest. Well, Ginny was very pretty, especially now, with her cheeks so invitingly rosy against the crisp morning air.

"He was so excited, he didn't even notice," Hermione murmured, and Harry was faintly nauseated at how indulgent she sounded.

Severus had already extracted and enlarged Harry's luggage. A quick spell set Harry's broom to rights again. He held it out to his son.

"Thanks," Harry said as he took the broom. "You don't mind, do you?" Harry had no idea why he would ask, but he felt slightly bad leaving his dad to sit in the stands.

"Have fun, Harry," Severus replied. And then he gazed at Harry expectantly, as if he was waiting for the fun to commence. Harry couldn't help but smile.

"Are you going to introduce me to your other friends, Harry?" August had moved close to his side. He was smiling at the two girls.

"Right," Harry murmured, feeling slight embarrassment at the gaffe. "This is Ginny Weasley," he said as he took Ginny's hand. He turned a little to Hermione. "And this is Hermione Granger. And that's Professor Lupin," he added with a nod toward Remus, while the girls and Remus gave August warm smiles. "Owen August. He's a Chaser."

"It's a pleasure to meet all of you. It's just Auggie though." August smiled all around, before he trained his gaze on Ginny. "How about you? You play Chaser in the Gryffindor team, don't you?"

"It's my first year," Ginny told him with a nod.

"Would you like to practice with us?" His voice, Harry noticed uneasily, seemed to have dropped an octave or two, and he had moved slightly so that he was leaning toward Ginny's small frame.

Ginny glanced at Hermione, though Harry didn't miss the ways her eyes lit up at the question. "I really shouldn't leave Hermione-"

"I don't mind," Hermione interrupted. "I'd like to speak with Professor Snape, anyway."

Severus already looked resigned to it. Hermione obviously had been pondering the reason for Harry's new look, and was ready to pepper her professor with questions.

"If you're certain you don't mind," Ginny was saying to August. August grinned at her.

"Not at all," he assured her. He stuck his elbow out to her. "If I may?" he inquired formally. Ginny glanced at Harry, who by now was watching the exchange with a funny feeling in his gut. August glanced at Harry as well. "You don't mind, do you Harry?"

"Oh...no, of course not," Harry said quickly as August gazed at him expectantly. He did mind though. Especially when Ginny smiled at August and slipped her small hand into the crook of his arm. They turned toward where Ron was pulling a pair of gloves on, in the middle of the pitch; Oliver was holding Ron's broom. Harry watched them walking away; August's blond head was bent toward Ginny's as he spoke to her.

The funny feeling felt more like a slow burn now.

"Harry?"

Harry started. Hermione was giving his shoulder a nudge.

"Go on, Harry. They're waiting for you."

"Oh, right...yeah," Harry answered with a small shake of his head. He loosened his grip on his broom; his fingers actually had been starting to go a little numb. "I'll see you in a bit," he said to the whittled-down trio. Hermione smiled happily, but neither his father nor Remus seemed to have heard him; they were both frowning toward the middle of the pitch.

Feeling decidedly less enthusiastic about the prospect of flying with the Chudley Canons, Harry went out to join the team.