[Fic] A Summer Inheritance 2/21 (NC-17) HP: HP/SS
Title: A Summer Inheritance (2/?)
Author: faynia and stormypups
Pairing: Snape/Harry
Rating: NC-17
Genre: AU, Romance, Humor, Drama
Prompt/Round: Round 5--Royalty & Nobility at thematic_hp: Harry doesn't know that he's royal. He also doesn't know that one of the teachers at Hogwarts is his bodyguard.
Warnings: Highlight for warnings * Minor Character Death, almost, but not quite a forced bonding*
Summary Harry thought his life would go back to normal once Voldemort was defeated, but on his 17th birthday he discovers a secret that will change his future.
Beta'd by rakina.
Prologue | Chapter One
Chapter Two
Two hours later found the four of them elbow deep in scrolls. Harry had been taking breaks off and on to read more of the journal for what he claimed were purely research reasons. He didn't want to admit that he desperately wanted to find out what happened between his ancestor and his closest friend. Thelonious sounded like a prick to him, but he was beginning to understand why Carlisle liked him so much...maybe even loved him.
"I think I found something!" Ron called out excitedly, shaking Harry from his reverie. He set the dull property deed back down on the floor. It was the fifth one he had come across.
"Yeah?"
"Yeah!" Ron held out a scroll that Harry reckoned was at least five feet long.
"It's got your whole family tree on it," Ron said. "You go back ages, Harry."
Hermione scooted over and helped Harry unfurl it completely. His eyes traced down the vein-like lines, going over unfamiliar, sometimes unpronounceable names of his family. It took him a while, but he finally found who he was looking for.
"There you are," he whispered, finding Carlisle's name about a quarter of the way down the parchment.
"Did you have any doubts you'd find him there?" Hermione teased.
"No, not really," Harry said, but seeing it there just helped solidify things for him.
"Prince? Is that a title or a family?" Ron asked, looking over another long scroll.
"There's another one?" Harry gently laid down the one in his hands and craned his neck to see the heading of the new one.
"Yeah, it's as long as the other one," Ron said, holding it out for Harry to see.
"There's Thelonious!" he cried in triumph.
"Who?"
Harry flushed. "He was Carlisle's best friend."
"Could I see that a moment?" Remus asked, holding out his hand. He had a strange look on his face as he began to scan the scroll. "Merlin," he whispered when he saw the name near the bottom of the scroll.
"What is it now?" Harry asked, feeling frustrated. He stood up and walked around the pile of parchments, settling a hand on Remus' shoulder, and peered at the parchment. His gaze swept the names, heading towards the bottom without seeing anything odd. That was until Remus moved his thumb off the sole name at the bottom.
"No, that's not possible," Harry said, shaking his head. "Remus, tell me that's not possible."
"What? What is it?" Hermione asked, moving to stand behind Remus' other shoulder.
"It's Snape," Harry said, still disbelieving what he was seeing.
"What is?"
Harry looked at Ron in disbelief. "On the parchment. It's Snape, that's...that's insane. I mean." He ran a hand through his hair in agitation. "It's Snape."
"But it said Prince," Ron argued.
"Which means his mother was probably a Prince," Hermione corrected. "See, there, Eileen Prince. She married Tobias Snape, and they had Severus who of course, took his father's name."
Harry thought back to all the references Carlisle made about Thelonious. Dark eyes. Lank black hair. Could be a real prick when he wanted to.
"Unbelievable," Harry whispered.
"Harry?" Hermione gripped his arm, looking up at him worried.
"I'm fine, just surprised," Harry lied.
"Are you sure?"
"Leave him alone, Hermione. Let the guy have a heart attack in peace."
Harry glowered at the redhead. "Thanks, Ron."
"Harry?" Remus said gently.
"I'm alright, honest," Harry said tightly.
"I was going to ask if you had found anything else in that journal."
"Nothing specific, but if it's alright with you guys, I'm going to turn the scrolls over to you and focus on it for a bit."
"Go ahead, mate. The sooner we get through this, the sooner I have to help mum," Ron said, grinning as he picked up another scroll.
"A little manual labor won't kill you, Ron," Hermione scolded.
"I don't mind manual labor so much as mum standing over me to make sure it's done to perfection," Ron replied dryly.
Harry tuned out their bantering and focused on the journal.
June 1567
Thelonious looked ready to speak to me again. However, mother decided to intervene and dragged me away to talk to Helena. It is my birthday. I am king. I should have been able to talk to whoever I wished. I suppose I cannot just say no to mother. Especially after the horrible spring she endured.
The Masque was dull. I was never one for dancing, and to be honest I would have rather gone out into the country on a hunt, but I was not allowed. I had to be there to greet the courtiers, many of whom I could not care less about. I--
Harry blinked and scowled at the smudge on the page. Carlisle hadn't even finished the sentence. He flipped the page, confused.
June 1567
He kissed me.
"He what?" Harry whispered, his eyes flickering to the next heading, but the date wasn't until July.
July 1567
The wedding plans are in full swing now and Mother and Helena are as thick as thieves with their plotting. It's not merely a wedding, but a King taking his Queen to wife. It's sad to know that one has absolutely no control over one's own life.
July 1567
Helena is such a darling sometimes. I have no idea where mother found her, but I am forever thankful she did. I love her, but not in the way she needs to be loved. She is like the younger sister I wished I had. I would gladly replace my brother with her any day.
Our wedding is tomorrow and as much as I dread going through it, knowing that Helena knows my feelings towards her makes it much easier. I hope to be a good husband to her, even if I do not become the most attentive.
"You can't say something like 'he kissed me' then gloss over it," Harry muttered.
"What was that?" Hermione asked.
"Nothing, just thinking out loud, sorry."
July 1567
Thelonious was crying. I have never seen him shed a tear since he was six when he tripped in the woods and twisted his ankle. I do not know how to make things right for him. I know I should, but I do not know how. Helena must think I am the foulest person on the planet. We have been married for a week and I have yet to touch her in any intimate way. I know I must. I cannot, however.
What is wrong with me?
September 1567
Helena is with child, I have produced the required heir. If it is a not a boy, I'm not sure what I will do. Thelonious tells me that I must do my duty, but his eyes are so sad, and so full of pain. Is no one to be happy?
December 1567
The Muggles are revolting. I do not know how or when they began. I hate to admit I am afraid, but I am petrified.
January 1568
The Muggles have been subdued and an accord of sorts has been reached. It feels tenuous at best. Thelonious will not allow me to leave the castle without a retinue of guards, not even to walk my own grounds. He's so stubborn, yet I would be lost without him. I think Helena is beginning to resent him, but she hides it well.
January 1568
Helena looks pregnant. I suppose I had been able to shove it aside once I discovered it to be true, but not any longer. You can see it in the gentle swell of her stomach. I told her I loved her and her usual grim expression brightened like the sun. She is gorgeous.
Thelonious has not been around in a week or so now and no one has seen him. I worry. Despite the country settling I do not like the idea of him being out there amidst the Muggles, although I know why he is. He always believed in the ideals of my father's adviser, more so than even I did. Equality. I trust Thelonious to know what he is doing; yet, I still worry.
February 1568
Thelonious, please come home.
April 1568
I am numb. Thelonious returned in late March just as the rainy season began and he is in a bad way. He is pale, so very pale and his face is grim and mangled. His breathing is not steady and he has yet to awaken.
Helena holds me at night as I sob out the grief as it overwhelms me. If he dies…
May 1568
Thelonious has recovered, but he is not the same. His eyes look haunted and he refuses to speak of it to me. I believe I hurt him when I used my title to force him to answer. He still refused to speak of it, and now he is not speaking to me at all.
Life was so much simpler when we were mere boys, playing with our swords made of tree branches. If he had never kissed me, would I feel this way? I already know the answer, so why do I bother to ask?
"Because you're an idiot," Harry answered in a soft undertone.
"Harry?"
Harry looked up to find the rest of the room staring at him.
"Yes?"
"Who's the idiot?" Ron asked, smirking.
Harry flushed. "Nobody."
"Learn anything interesting?" Hermione asked.
"The Muggles have started rebelling a bit, but it says they reached some kind of agreement," Harry told them. "We know that's not going to last."
"And that makes him an idiot?"
Harry shook his head. "No, that wasn't what made Carlisle an idiot."
There was a moment of silence.
"Well? You gonna tell us or what, mate?" Ron finally asked.
"No."
"Harry, the guy is dead," Ron said, "he won't get offended if you spill his secrets."
"Nope, I'd rather watch you squirm with not knowing," Harry teased, hoping Ron would just let it go. "Let me finish this, then we'll talk about it."
"Spoilsport," Ron said. "These scrolls are boring," he said, tossing one on the top of the 'read' pile.
"I'm sure your mother would like help in the yard," Hermione said sweetly.
"Yeah, yeah, I'm reading," Ron muttered, grabbing another scroll.
Harry met Remus' eye and frowned. He wasn't sure he actually wanted to tell anyone about what he was reading.
May 1568
I have a son. He is red and scrunched up, but my mother assures me I was no less disturbing to behold. Despite his outward appearance though, I could not be prouder of the babe nor of my wife. Helena was in such pain when I last saw her, but she is fine now. Sleeping as a matter of course.
Thelonious has hardly spoken one word to me all day and then it was only to tell me to calm myself. But how does one stay calm through that sort of ordeal? No matter, both child and wife are safe and now I have a son. My son.
June 1568
My son smiled at me today. It's a strange feeling, looking into eyes so alike to my own. When I entered the Nursery, Thelonious was holding little James, and his face held such longing, that my heart nearly broke in twain.
Harry exhaled softly, and glanced around to make sure no one heard him.
He stretched against the couch and yawned. "I think I'm going to head upstairs for a nap if that's all right."
"Sure, mate. Just make sure to be down for dinner."
"Guys, this stuff can wait, go and do something else for awhile, you've got to be bored stiff."
"I'm fine," Remus assured him, smiling. "I'm finding this oddly fascinating."
"You're a strange man, Remus," Ron said, getting to his feet and stretching.
Hermione smacked him on the leg. "Behave."
Harry grinned and left the room, making his way to Ron's attic bedroom. He flopped down on the bed and opened up the journal.
August 1568
I have wounded Helena deeply, and I don't know that she will ever forgive me. She acts as though all is well, but she cannot hide the pain in her eyes. I thought she had gone to the manor house. If I had known there was any possibility she would see us… I gave in to my carnal desires and I have hurt my wife, the mother of my child. Thelonious has left, giving her time without his presence.
October 1568
Thelonious has taken a wife. It was unexpected and it leaves me unsettled. Why does it bother me so much?
October 1568
I hate her. I hate her thoroughly, and yet I cannot say it to her face. She stole my Thelonious and now he will hardly grant me a few minutes of his time. If Thelonious did not appear to be in such high spirits...I truly have never hated another soul quite as much as I loath her.
November 1569
We almost came to blows today. But then he pressed me against the wall and suddenly we weren't fighting anymore. But then he left without a word. Why does he always do that?
November 1568
Things are quiet this week. Little James is adorable and I tend to spend more time with him the Helena does. I cannot quite get over that we created such a precious being. I told her this just the night before and for the first time in over a month she looked at me with something other than thinly veiled scorn.
I dare say I shall try and make things up to her the best way I can, but there is only so much I can do.
January 1569
The first snow of the season has occurred. I took Jamie with me out of doors and held his hands as he made his way through the lightly falling snow . He is just learning how to walk with our help and can't make it very far at all. Thelonious stood back , but I could feel his eyes following our every movement and I am grateful for the uncalled-for protection. Helena called me 'sweet' this morning. What am I supposed to make of such a compliment?
January 1569
Helena is being extraordinarily attentive. Perhaps she feels less threatened with Thelonious occupied with his own family. Women are a mystery. We are going to the manor house for the week. Thelonious has found someone to send in his stead.
February 1569
There are days I would love to tell my advisers to do everyone a favor and take a sword to their necks and behead themselves.
March 1569
There are rumblings of unrest among the Muggles once again. Thelonious has forbidden me to go anywhere without him. Just who is the King?
March 1569
He was right. He is always right. How on earth does he always know?
May 1569
The weather is finally turning warmer. Jamie loves being outside. I wish matters with the Muggles weren't so pressing, for I long to be outside with him.
May 1569
For some ungodly reason, Helena insists we throw a party for dear Jamie's birthday. I do not enjoy these sorts of gatherings. They tend to become uncomfortable.
May 1569
Thelonious carved a small wooden horse for Jamie's birthday. It's quite similar to the horse his father carved for me when I as a lad. I'm sure he will treasure this gift as I treasured mine.
Harry closed the journal and let it fall to the floor beside him with a soft thump. His mind buzzed with all the new information he was gathering and there was one staggering issue that was bothering him most of all. Why wasn't he bothered by the sexual relationship between his ancestor and Snape's ancestor? Thelonious was every bit the same git that Snape was on a good day, shouldn't he be feeling at least a little ill at the thought?
At least Thelonious seemed to have a heart. Harry was fairly certain Snape did not.
Snape.
Harry sat upright. Did Snape know? Was he aware of the link between their families?
Suddenly that question was in the forefront of his mind. Surely he couldn't have, though. Snape had treated him like scum since the first time they met. There was no way Snape could have known that their families had been tied inexplicably for tens of generations.
But what if he did? What if Snape had known and he stilled treated him that way?
Harry wondered if he went to sleep, would he wake up and find this had all been just a dream? He fervently hoped so.
Next Chapter: Chapter Three
Author: faynia and stormypups
Pairing: Snape/Harry
Rating: NC-17
Genre: AU, Romance, Humor, Drama
Prompt/Round: Round 5--Royalty & Nobility at thematic_hp: Harry doesn't know that he's royal. He also doesn't know that one of the teachers at Hogwarts is his bodyguard.
Warnings: Highlight for warnings * Minor Character Death, almost, but not quite a forced bonding*
Summary Harry thought his life would go back to normal once Voldemort was defeated, but on his 17th birthday he discovers a secret that will change his future.
Beta'd by rakina.
Prologue | Chapter One
Chapter Two
Two hours later found the four of them elbow deep in scrolls. Harry had been taking breaks off and on to read more of the journal for what he claimed were purely research reasons. He didn't want to admit that he desperately wanted to find out what happened between his ancestor and his closest friend. Thelonious sounded like a prick to him, but he was beginning to understand why Carlisle liked him so much...maybe even loved him.
"I think I found something!" Ron called out excitedly, shaking Harry from his reverie. He set the dull property deed back down on the floor. It was the fifth one he had come across.
"Yeah?"
"Yeah!" Ron held out a scroll that Harry reckoned was at least five feet long.
"It's got your whole family tree on it," Ron said. "You go back ages, Harry."
Hermione scooted over and helped Harry unfurl it completely. His eyes traced down the vein-like lines, going over unfamiliar, sometimes unpronounceable names of his family. It took him a while, but he finally found who he was looking for.
"There you are," he whispered, finding Carlisle's name about a quarter of the way down the parchment.
"Did you have any doubts you'd find him there?" Hermione teased.
"No, not really," Harry said, but seeing it there just helped solidify things for him.
"Prince? Is that a title or a family?" Ron asked, looking over another long scroll.
"There's another one?" Harry gently laid down the one in his hands and craned his neck to see the heading of the new one.
"Yeah, it's as long as the other one," Ron said, holding it out for Harry to see.
"There's Thelonious!" he cried in triumph.
"Who?"
Harry flushed. "He was Carlisle's best friend."
"Could I see that a moment?" Remus asked, holding out his hand. He had a strange look on his face as he began to scan the scroll. "Merlin," he whispered when he saw the name near the bottom of the scroll.
"What is it now?" Harry asked, feeling frustrated. He stood up and walked around the pile of parchments, settling a hand on Remus' shoulder, and peered at the parchment. His gaze swept the names, heading towards the bottom without seeing anything odd. That was until Remus moved his thumb off the sole name at the bottom.
"No, that's not possible," Harry said, shaking his head. "Remus, tell me that's not possible."
"What? What is it?" Hermione asked, moving to stand behind Remus' other shoulder.
"It's Snape," Harry said, still disbelieving what he was seeing.
"What is?"
Harry looked at Ron in disbelief. "On the parchment. It's Snape, that's...that's insane. I mean." He ran a hand through his hair in agitation. "It's Snape."
"But it said Prince," Ron argued.
"Which means his mother was probably a Prince," Hermione corrected. "See, there, Eileen Prince. She married Tobias Snape, and they had Severus who of course, took his father's name."
Harry thought back to all the references Carlisle made about Thelonious. Dark eyes. Lank black hair. Could be a real prick when he wanted to.
"Unbelievable," Harry whispered.
"Harry?" Hermione gripped his arm, looking up at him worried.
"I'm fine, just surprised," Harry lied.
"Are you sure?"
"Leave him alone, Hermione. Let the guy have a heart attack in peace."
Harry glowered at the redhead. "Thanks, Ron."
"Harry?" Remus said gently.
"I'm alright, honest," Harry said tightly.
"I was going to ask if you had found anything else in that journal."
"Nothing specific, but if it's alright with you guys, I'm going to turn the scrolls over to you and focus on it for a bit."
"Go ahead, mate. The sooner we get through this, the sooner I have to help mum," Ron said, grinning as he picked up another scroll.
"A little manual labor won't kill you, Ron," Hermione scolded.
"I don't mind manual labor so much as mum standing over me to make sure it's done to perfection," Ron replied dryly.
Harry tuned out their bantering and focused on the journal.
June 1567
Thelonious looked ready to speak to me again. However, mother decided to intervene and dragged me away to talk to Helena. It is my birthday. I am king. I should have been able to talk to whoever I wished. I suppose I cannot just say no to mother. Especially after the horrible spring she endured.
The Masque was dull. I was never one for dancing, and to be honest I would have rather gone out into the country on a hunt, but I was not allowed. I had to be there to greet the courtiers, many of whom I could not care less about. I--
Harry blinked and scowled at the smudge on the page. Carlisle hadn't even finished the sentence. He flipped the page, confused.
June 1567
He kissed me.
"He what?" Harry whispered, his eyes flickering to the next heading, but the date wasn't until July.
July 1567
The wedding plans are in full swing now and Mother and Helena are as thick as thieves with their plotting. It's not merely a wedding, but a King taking his Queen to wife. It's sad to know that one has absolutely no control over one's own life.
July 1567
Helena is such a darling sometimes. I have no idea where mother found her, but I am forever thankful she did. I love her, but not in the way she needs to be loved. She is like the younger sister I wished I had. I would gladly replace my brother with her any day.
Our wedding is tomorrow and as much as I dread going through it, knowing that Helena knows my feelings towards her makes it much easier. I hope to be a good husband to her, even if I do not become the most attentive.
"You can't say something like 'he kissed me' then gloss over it," Harry muttered.
"What was that?" Hermione asked.
"Nothing, just thinking out loud, sorry."
July 1567
Thelonious was crying. I have never seen him shed a tear since he was six when he tripped in the woods and twisted his ankle. I do not know how to make things right for him. I know I should, but I do not know how. Helena must think I am the foulest person on the planet. We have been married for a week and I have yet to touch her in any intimate way. I know I must. I cannot, however.
What is wrong with me?
September 1567
Helena is with child, I have produced the required heir. If it is a not a boy, I'm not sure what I will do. Thelonious tells me that I must do my duty, but his eyes are so sad, and so full of pain. Is no one to be happy?
December 1567
The Muggles are revolting. I do not know how or when they began. I hate to admit I am afraid, but I am petrified.
January 1568
The Muggles have been subdued and an accord of sorts has been reached. It feels tenuous at best. Thelonious will not allow me to leave the castle without a retinue of guards, not even to walk my own grounds. He's so stubborn, yet I would be lost without him. I think Helena is beginning to resent him, but she hides it well.
January 1568
Helena looks pregnant. I suppose I had been able to shove it aside once I discovered it to be true, but not any longer. You can see it in the gentle swell of her stomach. I told her I loved her and her usual grim expression brightened like the sun. She is gorgeous.
Thelonious has not been around in a week or so now and no one has seen him. I worry. Despite the country settling I do not like the idea of him being out there amidst the Muggles, although I know why he is. He always believed in the ideals of my father's adviser, more so than even I did. Equality. I trust Thelonious to know what he is doing; yet, I still worry.
February 1568
Thelonious, please come home.
April 1568
I am numb. Thelonious returned in late March just as the rainy season began and he is in a bad way. He is pale, so very pale and his face is grim and mangled. His breathing is not steady and he has yet to awaken.
Helena holds me at night as I sob out the grief as it overwhelms me. If he dies…
May 1568
Thelonious has recovered, but he is not the same. His eyes look haunted and he refuses to speak of it to me. I believe I hurt him when I used my title to force him to answer. He still refused to speak of it, and now he is not speaking to me at all.
Life was so much simpler when we were mere boys, playing with our swords made of tree branches. If he had never kissed me, would I feel this way? I already know the answer, so why do I bother to ask?
"Because you're an idiot," Harry answered in a soft undertone.
"Harry?"
Harry looked up to find the rest of the room staring at him.
"Yes?"
"Who's the idiot?" Ron asked, smirking.
Harry flushed. "Nobody."
"Learn anything interesting?" Hermione asked.
"The Muggles have started rebelling a bit, but it says they reached some kind of agreement," Harry told them. "We know that's not going to last."
"And that makes him an idiot?"
Harry shook his head. "No, that wasn't what made Carlisle an idiot."
There was a moment of silence.
"Well? You gonna tell us or what, mate?" Ron finally asked.
"No."
"Harry, the guy is dead," Ron said, "he won't get offended if you spill his secrets."
"Nope, I'd rather watch you squirm with not knowing," Harry teased, hoping Ron would just let it go. "Let me finish this, then we'll talk about it."
"Spoilsport," Ron said. "These scrolls are boring," he said, tossing one on the top of the 'read' pile.
"I'm sure your mother would like help in the yard," Hermione said sweetly.
"Yeah, yeah, I'm reading," Ron muttered, grabbing another scroll.
Harry met Remus' eye and frowned. He wasn't sure he actually wanted to tell anyone about what he was reading.
May 1568
I have a son. He is red and scrunched up, but my mother assures me I was no less disturbing to behold. Despite his outward appearance though, I could not be prouder of the babe nor of my wife. Helena was in such pain when I last saw her, but she is fine now. Sleeping as a matter of course.
Thelonious has hardly spoken one word to me all day and then it was only to tell me to calm myself. But how does one stay calm through that sort of ordeal? No matter, both child and wife are safe and now I have a son. My son.
June 1568
My son smiled at me today. It's a strange feeling, looking into eyes so alike to my own. When I entered the Nursery, Thelonious was holding little James, and his face held such longing, that my heart nearly broke in twain.
Harry exhaled softly, and glanced around to make sure no one heard him.
He stretched against the couch and yawned. "I think I'm going to head upstairs for a nap if that's all right."
"Sure, mate. Just make sure to be down for dinner."
"Guys, this stuff can wait, go and do something else for awhile, you've got to be bored stiff."
"I'm fine," Remus assured him, smiling. "I'm finding this oddly fascinating."
"You're a strange man, Remus," Ron said, getting to his feet and stretching.
Hermione smacked him on the leg. "Behave."
Harry grinned and left the room, making his way to Ron's attic bedroom. He flopped down on the bed and opened up the journal.
August 1568
I have wounded Helena deeply, and I don't know that she will ever forgive me. She acts as though all is well, but she cannot hide the pain in her eyes. I thought she had gone to the manor house. If I had known there was any possibility she would see us… I gave in to my carnal desires and I have hurt my wife, the mother of my child. Thelonious has left, giving her time without his presence.
October 1568
Thelonious has taken a wife. It was unexpected and it leaves me unsettled. Why does it bother me so much?
October 1568
I hate her. I hate her thoroughly, and yet I cannot say it to her face. She stole my Thelonious and now he will hardly grant me a few minutes of his time. If Thelonious did not appear to be in such high spirits...I truly have never hated another soul quite as much as I loath her.
November 1569
We almost came to blows today. But then he pressed me against the wall and suddenly we weren't fighting anymore. But then he left without a word. Why does he always do that?
November 1568
Things are quiet this week. Little James is adorable and I tend to spend more time with him the Helena does. I cannot quite get over that we created such a precious being. I told her this just the night before and for the first time in over a month she looked at me with something other than thinly veiled scorn.
I dare say I shall try and make things up to her the best way I can, but there is only so much I can do.
January 1569
The first snow of the season has occurred. I took Jamie with me out of doors and held his hands as he made his way through the lightly falling snow . He is just learning how to walk with our help and can't make it very far at all. Thelonious stood back , but I could feel his eyes following our every movement and I am grateful for the uncalled-for protection. Helena called me 'sweet' this morning. What am I supposed to make of such a compliment?
January 1569
Helena is being extraordinarily attentive. Perhaps she feels less threatened with Thelonious occupied with his own family. Women are a mystery. We are going to the manor house for the week. Thelonious has found someone to send in his stead.
February 1569
There are days I would love to tell my advisers to do everyone a favor and take a sword to their necks and behead themselves.
March 1569
There are rumblings of unrest among the Muggles once again. Thelonious has forbidden me to go anywhere without him. Just who is the King?
March 1569
He was right. He is always right. How on earth does he always know?
May 1569
The weather is finally turning warmer. Jamie loves being outside. I wish matters with the Muggles weren't so pressing, for I long to be outside with him.
May 1569
For some ungodly reason, Helena insists we throw a party for dear Jamie's birthday. I do not enjoy these sorts of gatherings. They tend to become uncomfortable.
May 1569
Thelonious carved a small wooden horse for Jamie's birthday. It's quite similar to the horse his father carved for me when I as a lad. I'm sure he will treasure this gift as I treasured mine.
Harry closed the journal and let it fall to the floor beside him with a soft thump. His mind buzzed with all the new information he was gathering and there was one staggering issue that was bothering him most of all. Why wasn't he bothered by the sexual relationship between his ancestor and Snape's ancestor? Thelonious was every bit the same git that Snape was on a good day, shouldn't he be feeling at least a little ill at the thought?
At least Thelonious seemed to have a heart. Harry was fairly certain Snape did not.
Snape.
Harry sat upright. Did Snape know? Was he aware of the link between their families?
Suddenly that question was in the forefront of his mind. Surely he couldn't have, though. Snape had treated him like scum since the first time they met. There was no way Snape could have known that their families had been tied inexplicably for tens of generations.
But what if he did? What if Snape had known and he stilled treated him that way?
Harry wondered if he went to sleep, would he wake up and find this had all been just a dream? He fervently hoped so.
Next Chapter: Chapter Three