The Revenant, Chapter 5
by Geri ([email protected])
My homepage: http://www.geocities.com/geri_chans_fics/index.html
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Snape/Lupin
Author's note: {} Indicates character's unspoken thoughts
Disclaimer: Characters belong to J.K. Rowling, except for Hob, who belongs to
William Mayne, and Death, who belongs to Neil Gaiman; no money is being made off
this story; consider it a little wish fulfillment on my part.
Warning: AU; events that occurred at the end of Order of the Phoenix were
significantly altered from the book.
Sequel to: Always, Summer Vacation, For Old Time's Sake, Three's a Crowd, Return
of the Raven, Phoenix Reborn, Phoenix Rising, and Aftermaths.
Summary: Harry and Sirius have a talk, which unbeknownst to them, has a dramatic
effect on James.
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Chapter 5: Fathers and Sons
Hob, the little creature who looked after the Black house now that Kreacher was
gone, was delighted when he learned that Sirius and Blackmore were going to have
a baby. "Finally!" he cried, an expression of joy filling his small round face.
"A baby for Hob to look after!" He had already decorated the nursery in neutral
pastel colors, but now he began fretting that he ought to repaint it now that he
knew they were having a boy.
"It's fine as it is," Blackmore said, but Sirius whispered, "Shh, don't spoil
his fun."
"Perhaps Hob should paint the room blue?" the household spirit mused out loud.
"Or perhaps wallpaper would be better?" He brought down some samples of paper
that were being stored in the attic.
"Good Lord, that's the same wallpaper I used to have in my room when I was a
boy!" Sirius exclaimed, pointing at a light blue piece of paper decorated with a
design of broomsticks and Snitches.
"Yes, I think we should definitely go with that one!" Harry said, grinning.
"Hob will get right to work, then," Hob declared, looking very pleased.
Harry and Sirius helped Hob paper the nursery, although Hob probably could have
done well enough on his own without their "help". Putting up the sheets of paper
and making sure that they lined up evenly was a lot harder than it looked, and
they wound up getting glue all over themselves, but Harry wanted to contribute
in some way to the preparations for his little brother, and not just sit back
and watch Hob do all the work. Besides, he and Sirius had fun working together
and laughing at how ridiculous they looked, covered with glue and scraps of
paper. Hob didn't seem to mind that they were making a mess; he only smiled and
sighed happily, "Ah, how nice it is to have a family in the house!" And with his
peculiar form of magic, so similar to a house-elf's, he would even out the
places where the sheets of paper did not quite match, and smooth out any bubbles
of air or glue trapped beneath the wallpaper.
"Listen, Harry," Sirius said, laying aside the wallpaper and glue for a moment,
"I just wanted to say that it means a lot to me that you think of the baby as
your brother. It really makes me happy."
Well, that seemed like a perfect opening to the conversation Harry had been
wanting to have for some time now. He looked up at his godfather with a solemn
expression on his face, and Hob, who seemed to pick up on the sudden shift in
mood, quietly slipped out of the room to give them some privacy.
"Of course I think of the baby as my brother," Harry said.
"Because...because...you and Professor Blackmore are like my parents now,
right?" Harry paused, gazing at Sirius nervously, but his godfather was smiling
at him tenderly.
"Of course, Harry," Sirius said softly. "We're all a family now--you, me,
Branwen, and the baby. And Hob too, of course."
Harry gathered up his courage and asked, "So, do you think...I mean...that is,
if you wouldn't mind...would it be all right if I started calling you 'Dad'?"
Sirius's eyes went wide, and Harry hastily added, "I mean, if you think that
wouldn't be disrespectful to my real mum and dad. It's not like I'd ever forget
about them or anything, I just--"
Sirius mercifully cut off his stammering with a fierce hug. "Yes, Harry," he
whispered in a hoarse voice, "that would make me very happy, for you to call me
'Dad'."
Harry hugged him back, filled with a sense of relief, then asked anxiously, "You
don't think that my dad--that James--would mind, do you?"
Sirius hesitated for just a second, but a female voice replied firmly, "No, of
course James wouldn't mind," and Harry and Sirius turned to see Professor
Blackmore standing in the doorway, with Bane perched on her shoulder. "He and
Lily chose Sirius as your godfather, after all. They would want him to look
after you like family, and I'm sure that they would be glad if they could see
how happy you are."
"Of course!" Sirius said confidently, whatever doubts he might have had
apparently banished by her words. "Your dad and I were like brothers; he knew
that I'd look after you and love you as much as he did if anything happened to
him. He would be happy to know that you have a real family now, after living
with those rotten Dursleys for so long." He hugged Harry again. "I'm sure he'd
rather be here to raise you himself, but he'd be glad to know that you're happy.
The same way that, God forbid, if anything happened to me and Bran, I would rest
easy knowing that Remus would look after the baby." He grimaced comically.
"Although that would make Snape the poor kid's stepfather. But the baby would be
all right; knowing Moony, he would spoil the kid rotten. I bet he'll love being
a grandpa when Hermione and Dylan get around to having kids someday. It's a
shame that Theodore and Blaise can't have any; I wonder if they could adopt...?"
"Don't talk like that, Sirius!" Harry cried, his heart skipping a beat at the
thought of "anything happening" to his godfather. He had already nearly lost
Sirius once, when Bellatrix had almost killed him during the battle at the
Ministry of Magic.
"Take it easy, Harry," Sirius said gently, patting him on the back in a
reassuring manner. "Don't worry, I plan to be around for a long time. I only
meant that we were all like family, your dad and Moony and I, so I think he
would be okay with things."
"Okay," Harry said in a subdued voice.
Blackmore gently kissed him on the cheek. "Sirius and I are very glad that
you're part of our family now, Harry. I think that James and Lily would be,
too."
"Thanks, Prof...er..." Harry's voice trailed off as he realized that he didn't
know exactly what to call Professor Blackmore now. He wasn't sure that he was
comfortable with the idea of calling her "Mum" yet, but to call her "Professor"
seemed overly formal if he was calling Sirius "Dad".
But Blackmore smiled, seeming to understand his confusion. "I'm sure that it
would feel a bit strange to call me 'Mum' or 'Mother'. You can call me by
whatever name you feel most comfortable with, Harry, but I'm not really your
Professor any longer. Perhaps we could compromise and try 'Branwen' for now?"
"Okay...Branwen," Harry replied, a bit awkwardly. But she smiled warmly at him,
which made it a little easier.
"Come now, you two," she scolded briskly, sounding quite motherly--almost like
Molly Weasley, as a matter of fact. "It's almost time for lunch; go wash off all
that glue before you come down to eat."
Harry and Sirius both grinned, then chorused, "Yes, ma'am!" and hurried off to
clean up.
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Branwen saw the hob reappear after Harry and Sirius left. He was smiling
contentedly and brushing a tear from one eye; he was a very sentimental little
creature who loved nothing more than to see that his family was happy. She gave
him a conspiratorial wink, and he smiled at her, a little bashfully, then went
back to work wallpapering the nursery.
Branwen descended the staircase, pleased that things had gone so well. There had
been an awkward moment, where things could have gone the other way, when Sirius
had hesitated over Harry's question of whether James would have minded his son
calling someone else "Dad". Of course Sirius loved his friend and wanted to
believe the best of him, so a little nudge from Branwen had served to ease his
doubts.
But despite what she had told Harry, Branwen was not really so certain that
James would not have minded. He had been a kind and goodhearted person for the
most part, but he had also sometimes been a little petty and self-centered. It
was mostly the callowness of youth, which he might have outgrown had he lived,
but the James Potter that Branwen remembered might have been a little hurt and
offended at the idea of his son calling someone else "Dad". He had loved Sirius,
of course, and he would not have wanted Harry to be unhappy, but she suspected
that he might have considered it disloyal of Harry to want another father, as if
Sirius were replacing James in Harry's affections.
But Branwen--who came from a long line of Dark Sorcerers and Slytherins--had no
problem with bending the truth a little in order to spare Harry's feelings.
Because it was Harry who was most important here, not the feelings of a man long
dead. Harry had suffered enough in his young life; he deserved to be part of a
stable, loving family, to be able to love Sirius wholeheartedly as his father if
that what was what he wanted, instead of simply being an orphaned child taken in
by a family friend. And Harry would never be able to call Sirius "Dad" if he
thought that his real father would disapprove, so Branwen felt no remorse about
telling a harmless white lie. It wasn't as if James was around to contradict
her, after all.
Besides, maybe she was wrong. Perhaps she was letting her dislike of the way
James had treated Severus cloud her judgment. Maybe he really would have been
happy for Harry, as Sirius thought. She did believe that Lily, at least, would
have been happy for her son, and would not have begrudged him the love of his
new family.
So Branwen forgot her doubts and headed down to the kitchen to fix lunch,
humming cheerfully as Bane croaked out an accompaniment, his voice very out of
tune, but loud and joyous.
At the time, Branwen had no idea that the issue was anything more than
rhetorical, or that James Potter really was watching over his son...
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Meanwhile, in the waiting room, James buried his face in his hands and wept
tears of bitterness and despair. His son no longer needed him; Harry had
replaced him with another father, one that he perhaps considered more worthy. He
told himself that this would never have happened if it hadn't been for that
scene from the past that Harry had glimpsed in the Pensieve. If Snape hadn't
warped Harry's image of him, Harry would never have thought about seeking a
replacement for James.
A very small part of him told himself that he was being selfish, that he should
be glad that Harry was happy and had found a loving family to take care of him.
But it hurt so much to hear his son call someone else "Dad," even if that person
was his own best friend. Of course he had wanted Sirius to care for Harry if
anything happened to him, and of course he he wanted Harry to be happy--but he
had assumed that Harry would love Sirius like a favorite uncle. It had never
occurred to him that Harry would want Sirius to actually take the place of his
father. Maybe he clung to the title of "Dad" so fiercely because it was all that
he had to connect him to Harry. He couldn't talk to or touch his son. He didn't
exist for Harry, except as a vague memory and a few photographs, and now he
wouldn't even have the small comfort of knowing that he was the only one that
Harry thought of as "Dad". In time, Harry would forget about the father he had
never known, and think of Sirius as his real father.
James wanted to be angry at someone, but he couldn't bring himself to hate his
son or his best friend, so once again he turned his anger on the most convenient
target: Snape. It was all Snape's fault; he had turned Harry against James, and
even got Moony and Padfoot on his side. Why did everyone forgive Snape but not
him? Why were a few childish pranks so bad compared to everything Snape had done
as a Death Eater? Snape had stolen everything from James--his son and his best
friends. Maybe he was doing it on purpose, as revenge for the pranks James had
played on him when they were students.
James knew that he was not really being rational, but he didn't care, allowing
himself to be swept away in grief, despair, and anger...
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