Recollection

By Taleya

Chapter Five

Vulgarity has long been looked down upon.  Especially that relating to expletives.  But there are times when no other word save an expletive would fit an occasion, and this was one of them.

Two words summed up the state of Harry’s mind as the last of Hagrid’s words echoed through the room.

the fuck??
 

Utter, cataclysmic silence had taken over the room. Even the portraits had stopped their struggling, all eyes fixed on the young Auror as he digested the news.

Harry took a deep breath, and tried to approach it rationally. “I’m her father.”

Silence.

“That little girl.” He pointed to Exhibit A, who was currently engaged in schlurping the chocolate off a biscuit and leaving dirty fingerprints over Dumbledore’s snowy beard.  “Me. Her. Father.”

More silence, nodding heads.

“Snape is her father, and I am her father.  Can someone please explain to me what the HELL is going on? Because last time I took biology you need a woman to have a baby!” his voice was spiralling higher and higher in insane panic.  “And I sure as hell didn’t sleep with anyone except Snape in the past five years so can someone explain to me how the fuck I CAN BE HER FATHER???”   He’d burst out of his chair by this stage in a ball of uncontrollable emotions, finger still pointed accusingly, voice loud enough to wake the dead.

“Harry – “ Dumbledore tried, but he wasn’t listening, he was stalking back and forth across the carpet, eyes bulging, mind screaming in denial and paranoia flowing full force.

“God this has to be some sort of sick joke. Some sick fucking joke. Did he tell you I was her father? What did he do, go knock up some bitch and tell you these lies? Where the hell is the greasy bastard? I’ll tear him apart for this!”  He was lunging for the door, murder on his mind.

“Petrificus Totalus!”  he’d barely heard the words before he was falling over, limbs  locked in a full body bind.

“Shouldna done that,” Hagrid’s abashed tones echoed through the anger clouding his mind.  “Not supposed to do magic an’ all that.”

“I think, given the circumstances we can overlook it this time.  May I have my wand back please?  And do put poor Harry on the couch, it can’t be terribly comfortable on the floor.”  An abashed Hagrid handed the Headmaster back his hastily-snatched wand and easily lifted the bound Auror over to an overstuffed couch.

Dumbledore handed Araminta over to Hagrid before waving a chair over and seating himself beside the other man.

“Before either of us say anything more, I believe that a few truths should be laid forth.” He leaned forward and stuffed a few cushions under Harry’s stiff neck so they were at least eye to eye.

“You are indeed the father of young Araminta, a fact that was unknown to all save Severus himself until the time of the attack.  As far as Severus was concerned, the topic of the father of his daughter was strictly off-limits and we respected that, although many of the staff suspected it was a potion gone awry, or a cruel parting gift from Lord Voldemort or one of his followers.  None of us knew the truth until we were forced to cast a paternity spell to determine if her father had taken her in some form of vengeance upon him.

As to the mother, Severus himself carried the child to term, and gave birth to her - at great personal risk.  So not only are your comments obscenely offensive, they are completely untrue.” He paused, peering down at the bound man, judging the effect his words had had.

Harry stared back at him, furiously mute and Dumbledore relented enough to release his jaw.

“Where. Is. He.”  The words were snarled in a tight tone that had nothing to do with the constriction of his muscles.

“Severus is in the infirmary, where he has been since the attack.” Dumbledore’s voice was sharp with reproval. “And I have no intention of letting you anywhere near him in his current condition with these thoughts of violence.” With great control he brought his wand around and rested it in his lap, wrapping both his hands around it.  There was a moment of silence, and when he spoke again it was in a cold, sharp tone Harry had never heard from the man before.

“I do realise this has been a shock to you, but I did expect better from you, of all people.  You are capable of rational thought and this anger and these unfounded accusations do nothing but belittle the regard that I once held for you.” All the anger in the world was nothing compared to the deep disgusted disappointment in his tone.  “Now if I release you, you have two choices.  One will be to behave like a mature man who has been given a precious gift and the chance to know it rather than a spoiled child throwing a tantrum, the other is to leave the castle without delay and not return.  Choose carefully, Mr. Potter.  Any attacks or slandering of Severus will not be tolerated.”

Harry stared down at the Headmaster’s lap, where his hands were gripping the wand with such ferocity his knuckles had turned white.   And for the first time in his life he was honestly afraid of the older man, and what he was capable of.   They’d always wondered what it would take to push Dumbledore too far and it looked like he’d finally found out.

His eyes moved to where Hagrid stood behind the headmaster.  There was no support for his anger in the half-giant’s eyes, just a tight-lipped worry and despair.

And finally, he looked at the toddler scooped up in the huge arms, the tiny hand wrapped around a hunk of bushy beard.  The cause and reason of all this.  She wasn’t crying at his anger.  She wasn’t frightened of him.  Then again, why would she be? She knew where she was, safe and protected by great physical strength and magic.

And he was her father.

The idea was sidling into his mind by stages, too much to take in one swallow.  He chewed it up into single word sentences.

Him.

Father.

Her.

Snape….

It was that last that broke the stalemate.  He was a father. A father of Snape’s child.   That little girl was his.  He still couldn’t swallow the idea, but he knew if he walked away now he would never know.  Would spend the rest of his miserable cowardly life wondering what could have been, even if it did turn out to be hell.

“I’ll stay.”

Dumbledore searched his face for a long moment, before nodding.  “Good.” He released the body bind and helped Harry to his feet.  “There’s a great deal to do today, a great deal and no mistake!  But I think, perhaps, that you should get a good sleep in first. Although young Araminta looks as though she has had a good nights rest, the same cannot be said for you!”

Harry opened his mouth to protest and Dumbledore popped a lolly into it. “Don’t argue with me dear boy, you look like something Mrs. Norris dragged in.”

Harry chewed reflexively and felt a lassitude take over his muscles.  His eyes widened in stunned anger. The old fart had drugged him! One of the oldest damn tricks in the book and he had fallen for it like an idiot child.  He reached out, but his motions were slow and clumsy, eyes heavily lidded until he was looking out onto a world of indistinct shadows.

“Hagrid will take you to your room,” he dimly heard the Headmaster’s voice.  “I promise Harry, we will answer all your questions – after you’ve slept.”

Then his eyes closed completely and the darkness took over.
 

Chapter Six -->

All Content Copyright © 2001 Taleya Joinson
Last modified: November 12, 2010