A/N: Thank you to everyone that’s reviewed so far. Hope you enjoy this. ^_^ I should probably take this time to mention that there is a m/m relationship. If you’re not into that kind of thing, sorry. And how the pairing ended up together will be explained in later chapters.
Chapter Two
“Harry, what are you doing?” Ron asked. The three of them sat in Dumbledore’s office, waiting for the headmaster to return. Harry had out his quill pen and a piece of parchment.
“Writing to Sirius,” he answered Ron. “Hagrid thought he might know something about Voldemort’s heir.”
“And why are you inquiring about Voldemort’s grandchild?” said a voice from behind them.
“Headmaster Dumbledore!” Hermione said, startled that she hadn’t heard him enter.
Dumbledore smiled. “Please, Hermione, you are no longer a student,” he said. “There is no reason to be so formal. Albus will do fine.”
He crossed over to his desk and sat down. “Now. . .why so interested in the grandchild of Voldemort?”
Harry, Ron and Hermione exchanged glances, each imagining for a moment they were back at Hogwarts, back when they’d managed to get in trouble almost every second of the day.
Then Harry shook off the feeling and began to explain his dream.
“The child had remained hidden for all these years,” Dumbledore said. “There are people who keep an eye on him. He is quite well-protected from Voldemort.”
“But Head. . .Albus, you of all people know better than to underestimate Voldemort!” Harry protested.
“Harry, it is for the child’s protection I do not reveal his location,” Dumbledore said. “What if you were to go to the heir and one or more of Voldemort’s Death Eaters followed you?”
“What if they’re already looking?” Hermione piped up. “What if they’ve already found the heir?”
“And what’s so important about You-Know-Who’s heir anyway?” Ron asked.
Dumbledore nodded, rising to his feet. “If you are indeed serious about searching for Voldemort’s heir, you should know what you’re facing.”
He walked over to a bookshelf and removed a very old-looking book. “I believe you should have a look at this,” he said, handing the book to Hermione. “Now I must depart. I have important business to attend to.”
He started toward the door and then paused. “While I cannot tell you where the heir is, Severus Snape might be a person with whom to speak.”
“Harry, look at this,” Hermione said. They were still sitting in Dumbledore’s office. Hermione had opened the book of spells Dumbledore had given her. Harry and Ron were trying to figure out why Snape would know anything about Voldemort’s heir.
“Well, he was a Death Eater,” Ron pointed out.
“No, Voldemort didn’t know he had an heir back when Snape was a Death Eater,” Harry protested, shaking his head. He glanced at Hermione. “What is it?”
Hermione shoved the book at Harry. “I think you’d better have a look at this.”
He took the book, scanning the page. His face paled. “Oh no.”
Ron frowned. “What’s wrong?”
“We have to find Voldemort’s heir before he does,” Harry said grimly.
Ron looked confused. “Harry, why? What’s wrong?”
“If Voldemort gets a hold of his heir, things will be very, very bad,” Hermione said. “Things would go back to the way they used to be under Voldemort’s reign of terror.”
“Would you two stop talking in riddles and tell me what’s going on?!” Ron snapped.
“Come on,” Harry said. “We’ve got to talk to Snape.”
Next to Lord Voldemort, Severus Snape was quite possibly the world’s most fearsome man, in Ron’s humble opinion. His eyes, when he glared at you, were positively frightful. It was enough to make even the bravest man think twice about crossing Snape’s path.
Ron had been thankful the day he’d graduated from Hogwarts. He’d thought it meant he would never have to see Snape again, and yet, here he was, descending into the very dungeon where Snape held his Potions class.
“May I say that this is a very bad idea?” he muttered. “And may I also add it’s colder than a witch’s tit down here?” He glanced at Hermione, blushing. “No offense, Hermione.”
“I don’t even want to know,” Hermione snapped, glaring.
“Tell me again why we’re going to see Snape?” Ron whispered to Harry.
“Because Dumbledore said Snape knows something about Voldemort’s heir,” Harry answered. “And we have to find the heir before Voldemort does.”
“You can do all the talking, Hermione,” Ron hissed. “He always liked you best.”
Hermione shot Ron a look. Before she could retort, they realized they’d arrived at Snape’s office. Hesitantly, Harry knocked on the door.
“Come in!” Snape snapped.
Ron squeaked. “Maybe we should come back when he’s in a better mood.”
Hermione shot him a disbelieving look. “Ron, when you have EVER seen Severus Snape in a better mood?”
Ron paused to consider this. “Good point.”
Harry shook his head and opened the door. “Professor Snape, I wondered if I might have a moment of your time.”
Snape laid down the quill he was using to grade essays. “Well, if it isn’t Mr. Potter and his friends,” he said. He sneered at Ron, who squeaked and tried to blend in with the shadows, and Hermione, who glared back.
“Professor Snape, we’d like to talk to you,” Hermione said.
“About what?” Snape growled, grabbing up his quill and writing on the parchment in front of him.
“Voldemort’s heir,” Harry responded.
The scratching of Snape’s quill across the parchment came to an abrupt halt. The Potions teacher laid down the quill and folded his hands over the parchment, glaring at Harry.
“What do you know about the heir of Voldemort?” he demanded slowly.
“That he may be in danger if Voldemort finds him,” Hermione responded.
Snape snorted. “The heir is well-protected,” he said. “Voldemort will never find him.”
“Are you willing to stake your life on that?” Hermione asked. “Voldemort and his Death Eaters are searching for the heir even as we speak.”
“As Aurors, it is our job to protect the innocent,” Harry said. “The heir classifies as an innocent.”
“I will tell you one more time,” Snape growled. “Voldemort will not find his heir.”
“But how can you be so sure?” Hermione asked.
“Because the boy doesn’t even know he is a wizard!” Snape snapped. “If you go around poking your nose where it doesn’t belong, you will jeopardize every effort made to keep my s-the heir safe.”
Harry furrowed his brow. Had Snape almost called the heir his son?
“But-” Hermione protested.
“Silence!” Snape thundered, slamming his hand down on his desk. He glared at Harry as Hermione and Ron jumped. “For the last time, Potter, Do NOT go looking for the heir!”
He picked up his quill, shooting Harry a dirty look. “Now, if you will excuse me, I have papers to grade,” he snarled. “I believe you know where the door is.”
Without a word, the three backed out of Snape’s office. “Well, that was a waste of time,” Ron muttered.
“Is it just me or did Snape seem a little. . .overly concerned about us finding the heir?” Hermione asked.
Harry frowned. They hadn’t caught Snape’s slip.
“Do you think he’s covering up?” Ron asked. “I bet he knows exactly where the heir is! I bet he’s got the heir and is going to take him to You-Know-Who!”
“Ron,” Harry chided. “It’s already been determined that Snape is no longer working for Voldemort.”
“But he did seem overly concerned,” Hermione said thoughtfully.
That’s because the heir is his son,” Harry said simply. Then he walked away, leaving Hermione and Ron staring at each other in shock.
That night, Harry lay in bed, staring up at the ceiling. He cast a glance to his left as he heard his bedroom door open, then smiled as he recognized the person entering.
“Hello,” he said. “I was beginning to wonder what was keeping you.”
Draco Malfoy smiled as he left a trail of clothes behind as he walked toward the bed. “Sorry, I was stuck at a family dinner,” he said, slipping under the covers and cuddling up to Harry. “I couldn’t get away sooner.”
Harry leaned down, kissing Draco. “I missed you.”
“Missed you more,” Draco said. “How was work today?”
Harry scowled. “Not good,” he said. He told Draco about his dream and the dead ends he, Hermione and Ron had hit.
“Voldemort’s heir?” Draco said, frowning. “I don’t know which is worse--the thought that Voldemort has an heir or Snape has a son.”
“Have you ever heard your father mention anything about an heir?” Harry asked.
“Now, wait a minute, Harry,” Draco protested. “My father defected from Voldemort years ago.”
“No offense, but I just don’t believe he did,” Harry said.
Draco sighed. He really didn’t either; he just hated to think his father could possibly be in league with someone who’d tried to kill Harry on numerous occasions. And what if Voldemort ordered Lucius Malfoy to harm Harry? Draco had no doubt his father would do it.
This was exactly why Draco had yet to tell him about his relationship with the Boy Who Lived. He knew his father would never approve of it. At best, he would ship Draco as far away from Harry as he possibly could get. At worst. . .Draco didn’t even want to think of ‘at worst.’
“Keep an ear open, please?” Harry begged. “It’s important that we find the heir before Voldemort does.”
“Do you really think Voldemort will?” Draco asked. “I mean, Snape said the heir doesn’t even know he’s a wizard.”
“That doesn’t mean Voldemort doesn’t know about him,” Harry said. “We already know he’s looking for him. He might even have found him by now.”
Draco’s response was cut off by a snow white owl flying in through the window.
“Hedwig!” Harry said, smiling as the owl dropped an envelope into his hands.
“What is it?” Draco asked, raising an eyebrow.
“Sirius wrote me back already,” Harry said, tearing open the envelope. “I sent him the letter yesterday. I wasn’t expecting a reply back this quick.” He pulled out the letter and unfolded it, skimming his eyes over the page.
“Well?” Draco asked after a few moments of silence. “What does it say?”
Harry sighed. “Sirius says he only knows that Mackenzie Riddle had a child,” he said. “He doesn’t know who the father is or what became of the child, but suggests I talk to an Isabene Dumbledore.”
“Tomorrow, okay?” Draco said, kissing Harry’s neck. “Tonight, you’re all mine.”
Harry grinned, moaned as his lover nipped his neck. “Wouldn’t have it any other way,” he whispered, wriggling as Draco began undressing him.
All thoughts of Voldemort’s heir drifted out of his mind as Draco began to make love to him.
Severus Snape uneasily glanced around the Leaky Cauldron as he made his way through the crowd of people. He’d received an owl post that morning, asking him to be at the tavern by midday. There had been no signature, and he wasn’t too sure it wasn’t a trap of some kind.
Arriving at the corner booth, which the letter had instructed him to go to, he found it already occupied. Uncertain if the person sitting there was who he was supposed to be meeting, he started to walk away.
“It’s rude to walk away from an old friend without even acknowledging their presence,” he heard a familiar voice say. Startled, he turned to face the green-cloaked figure, just as it raised its head. His eyes widened as he saw, peering out of the cloak, a pair of the blackest eyes he’d ever recalled seeing.
“Mackenzie,” he breathed, his knees weakening. It had been far too long since he’d seen her last. “But you’re supposed-”
She cut him off with a wave of her gloved hand. “Please, Severus, sit.”
“Where is Isabene?” he said, sinking into the booth across from her. “The owl looked like hers.”
He stared at his wife--ex-wife, he had to remind himself that they were divorced--unable to believe she was sitting across from him. He wanted nothing more than to hold her, to kiss her, but knew he shouldn’t, if only because he didn’t know how she felt toward him. He’d loved her from the moment he’d laid eyes on her, but it had taken some time before she’d noticed him.
They’d attended Hogwarts together--he, the gangly, greasy-haired git that everyone loved to pick on, and she, the beautiful and popular girl who hung around James Potter and his bunch. It had been one more reason for Snape to hate the arrogant fool.
She’d been the one to make the first move. He had been too shy. They’d started dating and were married not long after graduating from Hogwarts. She’d given him a son, a happy, healthy baby boy. They’d been a happy family, settling down to life at Hogwarts after he’d been given a teaching position there.
Until Voldemort, Mackenzie’s father, had attempted to kill Harry Potter, and it had been prophesized that the Snapes’ son would one day be in danger. They’d had no choice but to send the child away for his protection, pretending that he had died.
But the strain proved too much. There was a void left in their lives, one that was filled only with anger and resentment, which often led to arguments. It wasn’t much longer until Mackenzie filed for a legal separation. Soon after, they were divorced.
But he’d never stopped loving her. He’d never given up the hope that one day they would find each other again, fall back in love, remarry and then be reunited with their child.
Their child. Just thinking about the beautiful little boy caused a pang in Snape’s heart. How he missed the little boy, the way his eyes lit up with delight whenever he saw his father. Though he was hardly a child, not after twenty years. Snape fleetingly wondered what kind of man his child had become.
And then he realized his ex-wife had been speaking and he hadn’t heard a word she’d said.
“Pardon me, Mackenzie, but what did you say?” he asked.
Another woman might have gotten angry and fussed at him for not listening, but Mackenzie merely smiled. “I said the owl was sent by Isabene. However, she was detained by Quidditch practice and is running late.”
“Ah,” Snape said.
“I also said that I received a letter from Padfoot last night,” she said, smiling.
Snape scowled. Padfoot referred to Sirius Black, a man that he disliked. “And what did he have to say?” he asked, a distaste in his mouth.
“That his godson has been asking him questions about Voldemort’s heir,” Mackenzie answered.
Snape made a face. “Young Potter was in my office yesterday, asking me what I knew of the heir.”
“Severus,” Mackenzie said slowly. “Do you think my father could really find our son?”
“No,” Snape said. “How could he? Fyril has been raised by Muggle parents. He knows nothing of magic or the wizard world. He doesn’t even know who Voldemort is.”
“But what if. . .” Mackenzie hesitated, glancing around. “What if Fyril inherited Father’s gift of Parseltongue?”
Snape took a deep breath. “We can only hope that he didn’t.”
He hesitated for a moment. “Mackenzie, I. . .”
She looked away. “Severus, I don’t think now is the time.”
He narrowed his eyes. “What?”
“I know what you want to say,” she said. “You want to talk about us. I don’t think now is appropriate.”
“Then when?” he snapped. “Damn it, woman, don’t you understand? I still care for you!”
Before Mackenzie could respond to his declaration, they were startled by the arrival of a barn owl, which dropped an envelope into Mackenzie’s hand.
“Who is it from?” Snape asked, raising an eyebrow as she opened it.
“Isabene,” she answered. “She says to meet her outside. There’s been a change in plans.”
Isabene Dumbledore impatiently tapped her foot against the ground as she waited outside the Leaky Cauldron. Beside her was a large black dog, which was staring up at her.
“Don’t look at me like that,” she insisted, glancing down at the dog. “You’ve got to get over this grudge you have for Severus. After all, it is his child we’re trying to keep safe. Besides, he’s a good man, once you look past his faults.”
The dog seemed to raise an eyebrow, looking skeptical. Isabene groaned.
“Fine,” she said. “Be stubborn.”
“Isabene!”
She glanced up as she heard her name being called and saw a green-cloaked figure walking toward her. The figure was flanked by Severus Snape, who was glaring at the dog.
“Mackenzie,” Isabene said, smiling as she embraced her friend. “Hello Severus.”
He turned his glare toward her. “What is he doing here?” he spat, pointing at the dog, who growled menacingly.
“Severus, he is just as concerned about the safety of your child as anybody else,” Isabene snapped. “But let’s not discuss this on the street. Come. I know of a place where we can talk.”
“Why are we back here again?” Ron asked as he followed Harry and Hermione into the Ministry of Magic’s records office.
“To find information on Snape’s son,” Harry answered.
“I still don’t understand what makes you so sure he even has a son,” Ron said.
“Because he almost slipped up and called the heir his son yesterday,” Harry said.
“Are you sure?” Hermione asked, frowning. “I didn’t hear him.”
Harry smiled. “Trust me, he said it.”
“Well, all right,” Hermione said. “If you say so.”
Suddenly there was a musical tone, which indicated the search engine had found something.
“Here we go,” Harry said, touching the blinking words hovering in the air. “Fyril Snape, born March 26, 1974. Son of Severus and Mackenzie Snape.”
“Harry, there’s an attachment,” Hermione said, pointing to a link.
Harry touched a finger to the link and another record popped up. “A death certificate,” he said grimly. “Fyril Snape, March 26, 1974 to October 31, 1981.”
“Harry,” Hermione said, her eyes widening. “That’s the same day Voldemort was defeated!”
“The first time anyway,” Harry said, tapping his fingers against the desk.
“Well, I guess if Fyril is dead, we don’t have to worry about the heir anymore,” Ron said.
Harry tapped his finger against his chin. “No, something doesn’t feel right,” he muttered. “If Fyril is dead, then why was Snape so worried about us finding the heir?”
“Who knows?” Ron said, shrugging.
“Fyril isn’t dead,” Hermione said, her eyes widening.
“No,” Harry said. “He’s only hidden.”