'That your old professor was once a child like yourself?' His smile deepened. 'You would be amazed, Mr. Potter, how much you and I are alike.' And in that moment, he realized exactly how true his statement was. The truth of it rocked his foundations once again, and he had to shake himself bodily, to recall where he was in place and time. The cemetery. Lily's gravesite.
'We . . . we are?'
'Yes, Mr. Potter. Would you like to hear how, or would you rather I spoke more of your mother?' He knew which the boy would choose, and thus was safe from questions about himself.
'My Mum, please. Please, sir.'
Severus nodded, his gaze once more on the gravestone. On her name. On the date she died.
'That both her parents were Muggles. Right?'
'Indeed. And so she had no idea she was a Witch. Until I told her.'
'Like me and Hagrid.'
'Just so.' That it had fallen to Hagrid to inform the Brat Who Lived to Bring Back Memories that he was a Wizard was one of many of the failings of Dumbledore's grand plan for the boy's upbringing. Another, of course, was leaving him with Petunia Evans in the first place. Severus sighed. 'I saw her in that Muggle playground, as I said, and saw definite signs of magic in her. From the way she could reach amazing heights on the swings, then almost fly as she jumped off them, to the way she all but glowed with power. In time, I made myself known to her and her sister--'
'Aunt Petunia.' The words were so soft, that Severus almost did not recognize the disgusted tone that accompanied them. Interesting. From their previous discussions -- and Harry's earlier essay about rules -- he had not gotten the impression that the boy regarded her with so much animosity, despite having all the reasons in the world to do so. Perhaps now he felt safe enough to show his true feelings. An interesting development, if so.
'Yes. She was there as well. Before Lily went to Hogwarts, she was as enthralled with the idea of magic as your mother was. She even wanted to go to Hogwarts herself. Her attitude changed in time, obviously.'
The boy snorted derisively.
Severus nodded. 'As you well know,' he agreed. 'When I first told her, Lily did not believe she was a Witch, but after a while, after several incidents of accidental magic, she had no choice but to. And then she sought me out.' He knew his expression had turned wistful, and did not bother to try and hide it. The boy's expression matched his own, anyway, the two of them joined in their recollections -- or lack thereof -- of the woman who had meant so much to each of them. Smiling slightly, Severus continued, 'We became friends. I told her what I knew of the Wizarding world, what I had learned from my own mother, and together we looked forward to getting our letters.'
Harry's forehead creased in puzzlement as he peered into Severus' face. What he saw there, Severus could not have said. 'What happened?'
With another nod for the boy's perceptiveness, Severus said, 'I was sorted into Slytherin, and she was sorted into Gryffindor.'
'Like my father.'
'Yes.' Severus swallowed down the taste of his misery and went on. 'For several years, we remained friends, or as friendly as we could be, given House rivalries at the time. She enjoyed Potions almost as much as I did, and we even experimented a few times in making potions of our own design. She excelled in Charms, and we often worked on joint projects. Much like you and your Miss Granger, we spent a lot of time in the library together.'
Severus paused, considered his words carefully, then said in a much lower tone, 'But I had friends in Slytherin whom she did not approve of, and she had ones in Gryffindor I could not abide. Eventually, inevitably, we parted ways.' The memory of that day at the end of fifth year, the day he had irrevocably lost her trust with one word, was enough to make his chest tighten and his eyes moisten with ashamed tears, even now. The look on Lily's face when he had called her that filthy word was the worst sight he had ever seen in his whole life. She had jumped to his defense, when Potter and Black were having their fun at his expense, and he had spurned her forever. His betrayal still hurt and always would, he knew. And he deserved every sharp pain it caused him.
Finally, once he gathered his courage, he went on, knowing he needed to say this last thing, to her son, so he would
Surprisingly, Harry asked no more questions about their relationship. His own eyes bright with unshed tears, he simply said, 'Thank you, sir.'
Severus ran a gloved hand over the top of the gravestone, and took a cleansing breath, to get his emotions under control once more. 'You are welcome, Harry.'
The boy said nothing about the familiarity, and Severus was glad. If things had been different . . . No. He would not dwell on might-have-beens. He knew better than to indulge in foolish fantasies like that.
'What did she look like?' Harry asked, breaking the silence after a few minutes.
Severus gave the boy a piercing stare. 'You have no pictures of her?' Surely Petunia could not hate her sister
But Harry shook his head. 'No, sir. None.' He paused, bit his lip, then seemed to decide something. 'Not of my Dad, either. But he's got a picture of him in the trophy room.'
Ah, yes, the Quidditch star. Severus forbore to say anything derogatory, however, about the man who had made much of his seven years at Hogwarts a living hell, as this was neither the place nor time for such pettiness. And it was petty, he knew, to dwell on such injuries to his pride after so many years. But then, he was a bitter and petty man, in many ways. He had accepted that about himself a long time ago. More recently, of course, he had accepted that he was a bully, too, but he was working to change that, firstly with this boy in front of him.
'I . . . I have some pictures of your mother,' he admitted slowly. That was one way he could make up for the wrongs he had done. 'I would be willing to show them to you.'
