Chapter 13: On secrets told, words said, and gifts given
RF's note: many thanks to rakina for being a splendid beta!
~*~*~
Harry froze.
Severus sat up, eyes wide in disbelief at what was happening.
Draco frowned in confusion, stepping off the ladder and coming closer to the creature. “What did you call me?”
Dobby’s little brow wrinkled. “Master Malfoy,” he repeated. “I see it in your blood.” He came closer. “And there” - he pointed to Draco’s eyes. “And there” - he motioned vaguely over Draco’s face. His eyes widened in confusion suddenly.
“Oh!” he exclaimed, bounding closer to the boy. “Oh, but this is all wrong!” he asserted, his hands waving frantically around Draco’s hair. “This isn’t right,” he repeated.
Draco’s eyes flickered to Severus. “Father? What is this lunatic talking about?”
Severus was paralyzed with indecision. He could not simply explain this off in some way. The secret was weighing heavily upon him as it was, and he thought maybe now that Bill was gone anyway he could tell Draco the truth. But he was afraid. The boy had an explosive temper, what if he did something stupid? Worse yet - what if he wanted to leave?
Severus’ eyes darted to Harry’s in search of reassurance. They met only with confusion.
“Um…” ventured Harry, “could somebody tell me what’s going on?”
Severus realized the boy had never seen a house elf before. He swallowed heavily, looking down onto his lap. “This is Lucius’ servant… a house elf,” he muttered. “More like a personal slave really.” He took a deep breath. “A house elf is bound to his master and his immediate blood relatives, and can only be freed if his master, or a person in whom the blood of his master is strongly present, hands him a piece of clothing.”
He looked up. Harry’s eyes softened into understanding. He reached out to squeeze Severus’ hand gently. “Tell him,” he whispered. “It’s time.”
Severus wasn’t sure but he thought the boy’s eyes were glowing softly. He felt calmed and reassured by their warmth. He looked over into the eyes of his son.
“Tell me it isn’t true,” whispered Draco, eyes wide. “Tell me it’s not true…”
A shrill voice pierced the ensuing silence. “Let Dobby show you!” exclaimed the elf. He jumped and hovered in the air above Draco’s head. In feverish jerks, he waved his hands around the boy’s hair. Then, with a satisfied nod, he snapped his fingers.
Harry gasped.
Draco’s hair was no longer inky black like Severus’ own. Instead, it was the lightest blond, with a trace of glimmering silver.
With another snap, Dobby conjured a mirror. “Here,” he bounced, “Dobby did good, yes! Dobby fixed what was wrong. Master Malfoy is all right now.”
Draco’s eyes widened impossibly as he saw his hair in the mirror. The resemblance now was unmistakable. Slowly, he sank to the ground. With the shock of it all, a curse formed on his lips and died out before it could be spoken. “I’m…” his voice trailed off as he struggled to grasp the incomprehensible.
“Yes, Drake,” whispered Severus brokenly. “You’re Lucius’ son.”
~*~*~
For a few minutes a heavy silence reigned. Harry watched Draco intently, looking for clues to the boy’s thoughts.
Dobby’s big eyes moved back and forth between Severus and Draco. A frozen expression that showed he finally realized he had done something wrong was etched into his wrinkly face.
Severus studied the lines in his hands with unnatural concentration, wishing fervently that maybe any second now he would wake up in his warm bed and realize this was but a bad dream.
A loud gasp echoed through the room. In their journey from father to son, Dobby’s eyes finally fell upon Harry’s forehead. He squealed, bounding closer.
“Harry Pot--”
His joyous exclamation was broken off as Draco sprang off the floor, whipping out his wand and pointing it at the creature. His face was set into hard lines, anger evident in every single one.
“Put me back the way I was,” he squeezed through clenched teeth.
Dobby stared at his ex-master’s son incredulously, stuttering, “Dobby d-doesn’t have to take M-master Malfoy’s orders anym--”
“Put me back!”
Draco stormed closer to the elf, wand poised to curse, when his hand was intercepted. He looked up into the eyes of the man whom for sixteen years he had called ‘Father’.
Giving an anguished wail, Dobby disappeared.
With a violent jerk, Draco freed himself from his father’s grip, wheeling on him, wand at the ready. “You lied to me!” he yelled. “All my life, you lied to me!”
From the sidelines, Harry watched helplessly as the scene unfolded.
Snape raised his hands in alarm. “Drake--” he started.
“I don’t care!” roared the boy. “I don’t care if it wasn’t your fault! You could’ve had the decency to tell me the truth about who I am, about what Dad did to you!”
Severus hung his head helplessly… inside, his heart was telling him that Draco was right. But he had only wanted to protect the boy…
He looked up at the sound of angry footsteps. “Drake!” he called out.
A violent slam of the door was his only answer.
Slumping dejectedly, Severus turned to his bed. The emotional exertion had worn his not-yet-fully-healed body out. His mind was reeling with thoughts of loss. He was only vaguely aware of warm hands tucking him into bed, and a soft voice.
“Give him time,” whispered Harry. “Give him time.”
~*~*~
Christmas Day came and went, and Draco’s pile of presents under the tree remained untouched. The life-light that was just beginning to glow in Severus’ eyes was extinguished once more.
He poked idly at his dinner.
It was New Year’s Eve.
Across the table from him, Harry watched him warily. A feeling was twirling in his stomach… that he had to do something before Severus put up his unfeeling wall again. Sev had been happier than ever in those few days that he, Harry, and Draco had spent together… Harry was sure that Draco felt the same.
Excusing himself softly, he left the room. He rummaged about his room for a piece of parchment… Finally, quill poised over it, he froze with thought. Carefully (quills were still somewhat new to him), he wrote three words.
Folding the note carefully, he made his way toward his staff, intent on sending his missive to Draco as soon as possible.
--I wouldn’t recommend it,-- sounded the Owl’s voice in his head suddenly.
“Er…no? What?” Harry stuttered.
--It is not for the White Mage to intervene in petty dealings of the mortals,-- intoned the Owl majestically.
“What? Severus is a friend!” Harry exclaimed vehemently, more than a little put off. “I want to help!”
--Yes,-- the Lion put in. --Yet, if you strive to help everyone, ultimately you will fail. That is a lesson you must learn, and this is as good a place as any to start learning. You are wise, my Lord; but, give man a chance.-
With a flash of the Owl’s eyes, the note disappeared.
~*~*~
Making his way back into the sitting room, Harry was surprised to see Severus pacing the room nervously, a paper in his hands.
“Severus?” questioned Harry.
The man looked up, stretching his lips into a tiny smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. “I- I have something for you,” he said uncertainly, coming closer. “I aimed for Christmas, but I only just finished it last night… had to work from memory, and just… here…” he trailed off, stretching out his hands.
With a little smile of gratitude, Harry took the paper from him.
He drew a quick breath of surprise, realizing that it was a drawing.
Curled up in front of the very fireplace they were now standing by, was Harry. A bit of hair had fallen across his face, partly covering it, but his scar was visible, its lines smoothed out by the dim lights in the chamber. His face was relaxed, the flickering of the fire dancing across it, giving him an almost mystical, mesmerizing appearance. His glimmering hair was etched out in every detail, and with great care, disappearing under his collar. And upon his forehead, next to the famous scar, a dim outline of a kiss was visible.
Harry looked up, eyes full of tears. “Thank you,” he whispered. “I- This…” Unbidden, an image entered his mind, of Severus watching him… drawing him with such care… he swallowed hard.
Moving toward Severus, he hugged him gently. Snape held him close, his hands burying themselves just a little in the boy’s hair. The silky strands disappearing under Harry’s collar fascinated him, but he would never ask.
Harry extricated himself carefully, still standing close. His eyes caught Severus’. Of its own accord, his hand came up to cup the older man’s cheek tenderly. With a little knowing smile, he whispered, “I have a feeling someday you will see it, Sev. Just give me time.”
The peaceful scene was interrupted by a nervous cough.
Draco was standing in the doorway, with a sheepish smile on his face.
“So…” he whispered hopefully, “Can I still call you Father?”
~*~*~
Harry froze.
Severus sat up, eyes wide in disbelief at what was happening.
Draco frowned in confusion, stepping off the ladder and coming closer to the creature. “What did you call me?”
Dobby’s little brow wrinkled. “Master Malfoy,” he repeated. “I see it in your blood.” He came closer. “And there” - he pointed to Draco’s eyes. “And there” - he motioned vaguely over Draco’s face. His eyes widened in confusion suddenly.
“Oh!” he exclaimed, bounding closer to the boy. “Oh, but this is all wrong!” he asserted, his hands waving frantically around Draco’s hair. “This isn’t right,” he repeated.
Draco’s eyes flickered to Severus. “Father? What is this lunatic talking about?”
Severus was paralyzed with indecision. He could not simply explain this off in some way. The secret was weighing heavily upon him as it was, and he thought maybe now that Bill was gone anyway he could tell Draco the truth. But he was afraid. The boy had an explosive temper, what if he did something stupid? Worse yet - what if he wanted to leave?
Severus’ eyes darted to Harry’s in search of reassurance. They met only with confusion.
“Um…” ventured Harry, “could somebody tell me what’s going on?”
Severus realized the boy had never seen a house elf before. He swallowed heavily, looking down onto his lap. “This is Lucius’ servant… a house elf,” he muttered. “More like a personal slave really.” He took a deep breath. “A house elf is bound to his master and his immediate blood relatives, and can only be freed if his master, or a person in whom the blood of his master is strongly present, hands him a piece of clothing.”
He looked up. Harry’s eyes softened into understanding. He reached out to squeeze Severus’ hand gently. “Tell him,” he whispered. “It’s time.”
Severus wasn’t sure but he thought the boy’s eyes were glowing softly. He felt calmed and reassured by their warmth. He looked over into the eyes of his son.
“Tell me it isn’t true,” whispered Draco, eyes wide. “Tell me it’s not true…”
A shrill voice pierced the ensuing silence. “Let Dobby show you!” exclaimed the elf. He jumped and hovered in the air above Draco’s head. In feverish jerks, he waved his hands around the boy’s hair. Then, with a satisfied nod, he snapped his fingers.
Harry gasped.
Draco’s hair was no longer inky black like Severus’ own. Instead, it was the lightest blond, with a trace of glimmering silver.
With another snap, Dobby conjured a mirror. “Here,” he bounced, “Dobby did good, yes! Dobby fixed what was wrong. Master Malfoy is all right now.”
Draco’s eyes widened impossibly as he saw his hair in the mirror. The resemblance now was unmistakable. Slowly, he sank to the ground. With the shock of it all, a curse formed on his lips and died out before it could be spoken. “I’m…” his voice trailed off as he struggled to grasp the incomprehensible.
“Yes, Drake,” whispered Severus brokenly. “You’re Lucius’ son.”
~*~*~
For a few minutes a heavy silence reigned. Harry watched Draco intently, looking for clues to the boy’s thoughts.
Dobby’s big eyes moved back and forth between Severus and Draco. A frozen expression that showed he finally realized he had done something wrong was etched into his wrinkly face.
Severus studied the lines in his hands with unnatural concentration, wishing fervently that maybe any second now he would wake up in his warm bed and realize this was but a bad dream.
A loud gasp echoed through the room. In their journey from father to son, Dobby’s eyes finally fell upon Harry’s forehead. He squealed, bounding closer.
“Harry Pot--”
His joyous exclamation was broken off as Draco sprang off the floor, whipping out his wand and pointing it at the creature. His face was set into hard lines, anger evident in every single one.
“Put me back the way I was,” he squeezed through clenched teeth.
Dobby stared at his ex-master’s son incredulously, stuttering, “Dobby d-doesn’t have to take M-master Malfoy’s orders anym--”
“Put me back!”
Draco stormed closer to the elf, wand poised to curse, when his hand was intercepted. He looked up into the eyes of the man whom for sixteen years he had called ‘Father’.
Giving an anguished wail, Dobby disappeared.
With a violent jerk, Draco freed himself from his father’s grip, wheeling on him, wand at the ready. “You lied to me!” he yelled. “All my life, you lied to me!”
From the sidelines, Harry watched helplessly as the scene unfolded.
Snape raised his hands in alarm. “Drake--” he started.
“I don’t care!” roared the boy. “I don’t care if it wasn’t your fault! You could’ve had the decency to tell me the truth about who I am, about what Dad did to you!”
Severus hung his head helplessly… inside, his heart was telling him that Draco was right. But he had only wanted to protect the boy…
He looked up at the sound of angry footsteps. “Drake!” he called out.
A violent slam of the door was his only answer.
Slumping dejectedly, Severus turned to his bed. The emotional exertion had worn his not-yet-fully-healed body out. His mind was reeling with thoughts of loss. He was only vaguely aware of warm hands tucking him into bed, and a soft voice.
“Give him time,” whispered Harry. “Give him time.”
~*~*~
Christmas Day came and went, and Draco’s pile of presents under the tree remained untouched. The life-light that was just beginning to glow in Severus’ eyes was extinguished once more.
He poked idly at his dinner.
It was New Year’s Eve.
Across the table from him, Harry watched him warily. A feeling was twirling in his stomach… that he had to do something before Severus put up his unfeeling wall again. Sev had been happier than ever in those few days that he, Harry, and Draco had spent together… Harry was sure that Draco felt the same.
Excusing himself softly, he left the room. He rummaged about his room for a piece of parchment… Finally, quill poised over it, he froze with thought. Carefully (quills were still somewhat new to him), he wrote three words.
Folding the note carefully, he made his way toward his staff, intent on sending his missive to Draco as soon as possible.
--I wouldn’t recommend it,-- sounded the Owl’s voice in his head suddenly.
“Er…no? What?” Harry stuttered.
--It is not for the White Mage to intervene in petty dealings of the mortals,-- intoned the Owl majestically.
“What? Severus is a friend!” Harry exclaimed vehemently, more than a little put off. “I want to help!”
--Yes,-- the Lion put in. --Yet, if you strive to help everyone, ultimately you will fail. That is a lesson you must learn, and this is as good a place as any to start learning. You are wise, my Lord; but, give man a chance.-
With a flash of the Owl’s eyes, the note disappeared.
~*~*~
Making his way back into the sitting room, Harry was surprised to see Severus pacing the room nervously, a paper in his hands.
“Severus?” questioned Harry.
The man looked up, stretching his lips into a tiny smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. “I- I have something for you,” he said uncertainly, coming closer. “I aimed for Christmas, but I only just finished it last night… had to work from memory, and just… here…” he trailed off, stretching out his hands.
With a little smile of gratitude, Harry took the paper from him.
He drew a quick breath of surprise, realizing that it was a drawing.
Curled up in front of the very fireplace they were now standing by, was Harry. A bit of hair had fallen across his face, partly covering it, but his scar was visible, its lines smoothed out by the dim lights in the chamber. His face was relaxed, the flickering of the fire dancing across it, giving him an almost mystical, mesmerizing appearance. His glimmering hair was etched out in every detail, and with great care, disappearing under his collar. And upon his forehead, next to the famous scar, a dim outline of a kiss was visible.
Harry looked up, eyes full of tears. “Thank you,” he whispered. “I- This…” Unbidden, an image entered his mind, of Severus watching him… drawing him with such care… he swallowed hard.
Moving toward Severus, he hugged him gently. Snape held him close, his hands burying themselves just a little in the boy’s hair. The silky strands disappearing under Harry’s collar fascinated him, but he would never ask.
Harry extricated himself carefully, still standing close. His eyes caught Severus’. Of its own accord, his hand came up to cup the older man’s cheek tenderly. With a little knowing smile, he whispered, “I have a feeling someday you will see it, Sev. Just give me time.”
The peaceful scene was interrupted by a nervous cough.
Draco was standing in the doorway, with a sheepish smile on his face.
“So…” he whispered hopefully, “Can I still call you Father?”