Snape's Worst Memory, pt. 3

Over the next two weeks, James, with the Marauders’ help, terrorized not only his usual targets, but a few new people. He started a rumor that he’d caught Gilderoy Lockhart snogging a boy in a supply closet; he added magical tablets to the Slytherin’s drinks so they grew tails or forked tongues; he set various creatures loose in the school corridors. 

Harry was at first concerned, then annoyed, then angry at how his dad was acting. James never got back to the dorms earlier than midnight each night from detention. He rarely showed up at Quidditch practice, and the last match was only a couple days away. 

Harry stayed up, waiting for James to get back to the Gryffindor Tower. His dad came in at one, bleary-eyed and pale. He only noticed Harry when he nearly ran into him. 

“Sorry,” he mumbled, starting to move past. 

“James, wait.” 

“Oh. It’s you.” 

“Yeah, it’s me. James, this needs to stop. You owe it to me and you owe it to your team to make it to practice. You can’t do that when you’re getting detentions constantly.”

“I’ll be fine. I don’t learn anything at practice anyway.” 

“That’s it. You do one more stunt with the Marauders and you’re—”

“How do you know about that?”

“I—what? Know about what?”

“We haven’t told anyone that we’re called the Marauders. I came up with it yesterday.” James was calm, expression cold. Somehow, though, he didn’t seem surprised. 

“I overheard you talking about it.” 

“Okay, then where were we when we were talking?” 

Harry was at a loss for what to do. He could lie and say Remus told him, but that would fall through eventually. “I don’t know.” He made toward the stairs. 

“Then is it because you already knew?” James’ posture was slouched, but he was still with tension. Weariness had left him.

“What do you mean?” 

“I mean, you’ve known since before meeting us.”

“How is that possible?” Harry forced a laugh, sliding his hand into the pocket that contained his wand. 

“You’re my son.” James’ hand shot down and grabbed his wand before Harry could pull out his. “Expelliarmus!”  

Harry’s wand flew to the other side of the room. Defenseless, he gave in.“How did you find out?”

“I overheard you talking to Snivellus nearly two months ago.” Harry flashed back to that time and remembered the twig that had snapped nearby, which he’d dismissed. “Since then, I could tell, and I overheard you and Raven.” 

“I was lying to them. Anything I said, it wasn’t…” 

“It’s no use, I know you were telling the truth. It all makes sense; how good you are at Quidditch, your grades, how you talk. You’re my—you’re my son, aren’t you? Snivellus had his little breakdown in the forest because of it.” 

Harry sighed and rubbed his temple. He hadn’t intended James to find out, especially so soon. “Yeah, I am.” 

Now that James’ suspicions were confirmed, he relaxed. “Merlin, I’m sorry for, well, everything.” James paused, processing what this meant, what Harry knew. He grinned back at Harry, an idea alight in his eyes. “You should join us, then. Be one of the Marauders.”

“No, that’s your thing. I appreciate the offer, but I shouldn’t.” 

“But you’re my son.” 

“I know.” 

James crossed his arms. “Why did you come back here, then? And why have you been so against me?” 

“I guess I’d like the adult you more than the teenage you.” 

“And I’m dead in your time? You didn’t get to know me?” 

“You died to protect us.” 

“Us?” It took a moment for him to realize what that meant. “Right, Lily, too.” 

Harry nodded and, as James was absorbed in thought, casually walked across the room. His wand had rolled under one of the tables. Harry bent down and shot a memory erasing spell at James, who cast a protection spell just in time. 

“I learned that from you,” James said, wand still raised. “And I wouldn’t try that again. What if you screwed up? People would ask questions. I could erase your memories, too.” 

Harry lowered his wand. “Sorry. I don’t want you to know.” 

“So I can’t know, but Snivellus and Raven can.” 

“I owe Severus, but I don’t owe you.”

“How could you owe Snively? He practically breathes Dark Magic—I wouldn’t be surprised if his nose is huge from inhaling it.” 

“You shouldn’t bully Severus. After you died, he spent the rest of his life battling Voldemort. He protected me.” 

James was taken back. “Why?” 

“Because he’s not evil, contrary to what you believe.” 

“I guess I’d hate the adult Severus less than the teenage Severus.”

Harry glared at him. “Why shouldn’t I erase your memory?” 

“If you try again, I’ll tell everyone. If you erase my memories, it’ll be just like it was before.” 

“And if you keep your memories?”

“Then we’ll be friends.”

Harry’s eyes flicked between his wand and his dad. At this rate, the whole school will know by the end of the year. And I keep breaking the basic rules of time travel. On the other hand, I just want to get along with James. I’ve wanted a real family my whole life, so I should be willing to do this. Harry made up his mind, pocketing his wand and crossing the room. He’d known James over the past few years, but now he knew his father. He hugged his dad for the first time. 

Later in May, the Gryffindors managed to win the cup by ten points; Harry caught the Snitch thirty minutes in, but the Hufflepuffs had control of the Quaffle for the majority of the game.

James and Harry cleaned up after the match. “So we’re working on a project. A map, actually.” 

Harry nodded. “The Marauder’s Map?” 

“How do you know about that? Have you seen it?” 

“Yeah. But I can’t tell you about it.” 

“Right, sure.” James didn’t take him seriously. “But really, do we get it to work?”

Harry hesitated. “Yes. That’s all I’m telling you, though.”

“Okay.” James looked around. “You still don’t wanna join the Marauders?” 

Harry locked up the case with the Quidditch supplies. “You have Remus, Sirius, and Peter. Severus and Raven just have me. And I can guarantee that you would tell the others about me, or they’d find out.”

James considered this, then nodded. “Okay.”

“It's not just that; I know too much about the future. And you bully Severus. Also—” 

James stopped him from continuing. “Why does Lily hate me now if she’s going to end up with me?” 

Harry felt guilty and mad at himself for knowing this kid, his dad, would die young. “Because you’re annoying! To everyone and to her. If you give her space, maybe she’ll be less cold. You realize, it’s not her, it’s you.” 

“Well, don’t sugarcoat it.” 

They were almost to the school when James stopped. “I’m actually going to head back and work on my flying. See you ’round.” 

“Hang on.”

“What is it?” 

“I’ve been thinking about it, and I really think we shouldn’t talk to each other so much.” 

James faltered, shoulders sagging. “Oh. Why not?” 

“I know, you’re my dad, and you’re part of the reason I came here. But I don’t want you to keep affirming what Severus said about you.” 

“What he said about me? What right does he have to—” 

“It doesn’t matter. I don’t want my opinion of you to be based off of you as a kid. On the other hand, I can’t ignore how you’re acting right now.” 

“I thought you wanted to be friends.” 

“I did, I do, it’s just that right now, with everything that’s happened, I can’t.” 

“Fine,” James said, already walking away. 

June arrived. If it hadn’t been nearing the end of the year, time would be moving slowly and painfully. An outsider looking in would be surprised to know that Harry and Severus used to be friends. They now seemed so separate. Neither of them spoke to or even acknowledged each other. Lily grew closer to Aluria Vane, even though half of Aluria’s conversations revolved around James. At first, Lily changed the subject whenever he was brought up, but eventually she came to tolerate Aluria’s dreamy rantings. Harry realized that Aluria and Lily must’ve been best friends since first year in the original time in which Raven, Harry, and Severus weren’t in Gryffindor. 

Harry was frustrated with Lily and Severus, so he spent more and more time with Raven. She asked him about the life he left behind, about Ginny and the War and the people he knew who died. 

Exactly two weeks before the end of school, she asked, “How did Severus die? You didn’t write about it specifically.”

Harry put aside his homework. “I probably shouldn’t tell you any more than what you read.” 

“Probably.” Raven crossed her arms. “Then what about Remus? How did he die?”

“Why do you want to know? I mean, who said he’s not still alive?”

“No one said anything; but you wrote about him like he’s a ghost.” 

Harry sighed. “He died fighting on the final day of the Second War.” He paused as the Marauders came down the stairs, carrying black bags, acting as though they wanted to appear suspicious. “He had a son—my godson. I wonder…” Harry watched them leave through the portrait hole. “…if he knew, if they all knew how soon they would die, if they would act differently.”

“I don’t think they should know. See how Severus took it; I wouldn’t want to test their reaction. It’s a horrible burden.”

Harry nodded. “I know. If James hadn’t overheard that part, I wouldn’t have told him. So, why ask about Remus?”

Raven shrugged. “I want to know how much time we have. Er, I mean, we all have.”

“Not enough.” Harry thought for a moment, then asked, voice lowered, “How do you feel about Severus?” 

Raven tensed and leaned away from him. “I don’t know.” 

“And Remus?”

“I don’t want to like him just because he likes me. Though, I’m almost positive he doesn’t anymore.” 

“Why not?”

“Ever since the Shrieking Shack, he’s back to how he used to be. Anyway, even if he did, I don’t want things to be any more complicated.” 

Remus and Sirius stumbled back into the room, laughing. Smoke drifted from Sirius, and he had soot on his face. “I’m gonna wash up. Meet you in a tic.” 

Remus grinned in reply and joined Raven and Harry on the couch.

“I’m gonna put my books away,” Harry said, before they’d even exchanged hellos. He took his things and went up after Sirius.

In the dorm, Sirius was fixing his hair. The bathroom upstairs had plenty of mirrors, but he felt it necessary to have one nearby.

Harry had come up not just so Remus and Raven could have a moment alone; he wanted to see if Sirius seemed to know about his true identity. 

“Hey,” he said casually, before shuffling through his things.

Sirius muttered a response as twisted his slight, tanned hands in frustration. He left the room without another word. 

No, he seems clueless. 

To stall further, Harry burrowed through the purse he had borrowed from Hermione. He took out the books he may or may not need for next year, depending on his decision to stay or go. He noticed that an off-white corner stuck out from between one book’s pages. It was an unopened letter. 

Harry’s heart raced in anticipation. Maybe Ginny figured he would have second thoughts, so she snuck in a letter to help him decide.

But no, it wasn’t from Ginny. After opening the envelope, he scanned to the bottom of the parchment where “Miranda Daniels” was written. 

Dear Harry,

I am writing you to thank you. My name is Miranda Daniels. I am almost thirteen years old and am going into my third year at Hogwarts.

My parents’ home was destroyed in the war. They are both Muggles and didn’t know I was a witch when they adopted me. When they found out, they were shocked, but if they were scared of me, they didn’t let on. I hated myself for being different. That is, until I got to Hogwarts. When I learned your story, I began to believe that anything was possible, and anyone can bring change. 

In July of 1997, my parents pulled me out of school. We went to America with a couple other families, including my best friend, Sam, whose mom was a Muggle. We didn’t know that Death Eaters were following people out of the country. Anyone who got a passport was tracked by them. Out of our group, only my family survived. Not out of skill, or bravery. I thought back to you, how you wouldn’t have run away, you would’ve stayed and fought and helped. Then I realized that I was fighting. I was doing what you would’ve done. Maybe I wasn’t home, but I was where I was needed: with my family. 

So thank you not only for saving the world, but for saving me. Every little action helps. 

Sincerely, 

Miranda Daniels 

The letter trembled in his hand. He’d read thousands of letters, some of them probably like Miranda’s. But somehow, close to three years after killing Voldemort, this one letter had an impact equivalent to one thousand.

Harry held his head between his hands, eyes squeezed tight. Was staying here the right thing to do? Or should he go back home?

Where was he needed most? Severus didn’t want him, the Marauders had each other, Lily and Raven would manage. He could do both; stay then go back home. But he was no longer here to fill the void, he was here because of a moral obligation. Though, even that reason was timing out.

So, that’s it. It makes the most sense to leave, Harry decided.

Severus glanced at Harry from his bed. 

It was too early for Harry to be packing, but he wanted to make sure he had everything. With three people in Hogwarts knowing his true identity, all with access to his dorm, Harry had to be sure nothing had been stolen. 

Harry knew Severus had looked his way, but he pretended otherwise. It would be less painful for both of them to part without making amends. That way, Harry could go on thinking Severus didn’t want his help and Severus could think that Harry no longer cared. 

The strongest proof of their stubbornness was their refusal to say anything to each other until the final day of school. Harry didn’t think Severus had any idea that this was the last time they’d see each other until the nineties. 

“Are you going?” 

Harry tucked the Time-Turner under his shirt and turned around. Severus stood, with his things, by the King’s Cross gate. 

“Well, I’m not planning on living at the station.”

“I have to go soon. Are you leaving or staying?” 

Harry sighed. “Leaving.”

Severus nodded. “I don’t know if I’ll see you when I’m older, then. Who knows how things’ll work out.” 

“Probably about the same. Unless you’re planning on leaving the Dark Arts…? No? I didn’t think so. I wish you luck.” Harry turned to leave.

“Er, Harry,” Severus began.

Harry raised his eyebrows. “Yes?”

Severus pressed his lips together and looked anywhere but at Harry. “Why did you come here?” 

“I told you, I thought I could help you. Now I know I can’t.” 

“I mean,” Severus began, lowering his voice almost urgently, “why did you come to fix things if you’re going to leave? Why are you leaving when things are still…wrong?”

Harry didn’t reply. He turned his gaze to Lily, who saw him and began to wave before she saw who he was talking to. 

“I tried. I made things worse. And I’m unhappy. No, miserable. And also angry, like how I started. Nobody will care if I leave, at least not for long.” 

Severus bit his tongue. He couldn’t say anything, even as Harry moved through the wall. 

After a few seconds, the battle in Severus’ mind ended and he pushed his cart through the wall. Harry was moving out of sight; soon he would Apparate and disappear. Severus quickened his pace and pushed through the crowd after his friend. “Wait!” he called, just as Harry turned the corner to an area free of Muggles. There was a loud crack, and then no one was there. 

Severus stood rooted to the spot. He pushed his cart back around and had begun to head in the opposite direction when Harry Apparated again in front of him. 

“What is it, Severus?”

Severus had to say something to get Harry’s help, but he wasn’t one for lengthy, emotional speeches. “Stay one more year. Please.”