Chapter 2
The hand in his hair holding his head firmly against a hard shoulder was the first thing Harry noticed when he finally became aware of his surroundings. An arm was wrapped around him. The hold was grounding, comforting, and safe. Harry swallowed. It felt like glass was going down his throat. He pushed his face further into that shoulder.
A throat cleared and the arms around him dropped. Harry sighed and pulled away, freezing once he realized who the person was. He dropped his eyes from Snape’s face and moved away, so that they were no longer touching. Harry didn’t know who he expected to be the one holding him, but it definitely wasn’t the Potions professor.
He looked down at the bathroom floor and waited for Snape to say something. Snape cleared his throat again. Harry could hear him swallow. It seemed that Snape was as unsure of what to do as he was.
Harry stood, his legs shaking. He walked to the sinks. The rustling behind him told him Snape stood as well. He turned on the water and splashed it on his face.
“I thought you would be ecstatic, having your father back from the dead.” There was a slight sneer in Snape’s voice. He couldn’t fight the flinch. “Trouble in paradise?”
He turned off the water, ignoring the words. Harry didn’t want to give Snape more of an excuse to make fun of him. “You normally like all the attention. The amount you would get from your father and everyone else over this should be able to feed your ego for the next decade.”
Harry turned to go to begin walking toward the door to leave, refusing to engage with him in any way. Before he could even take a step towards it, it opened. Dumbledore walked in, with McGonagall and…
He turned back around, not wanting to see the man that looked identical to him.
“Harry!” He flinched back harshly, closing his eyes. Hearing his father’s voice was almost enough to have him screaming again. “What’s going on, my boy?” A footstep told him James was trying to get closer. “Did this greasy git upset you?”
A hand brushing his shoulder had Harry bolting to stand behind Snape, grabbing handfuls of the black robes and pushing his face against them. He could feel Snape stiff in front of him.
The room was silent except for Harry’s rough breathing. “What have you done to my son, Snivelus?” The mean tone had Harry flinching again.
“It wasn’t me he was running from, Potter.” Snape’s tone was just as rude, but instead of feeling scared by it, Harry felt protected.
“What did you say to him to make him scared of me, Snape?” James walked around Snape to grab at Harry’s arm, clearly intending to pull him away, but Snape pushed James from them before the older man could touch him.
Gentle hands wrapped around his wrists and he felt them being pushed away. He should have known Snape’s patience would extend only so far. It wasn’t something the professor was known for having after all. He reluctantly let go of Snape’s robes and took a step back, but before he could go further, Snape turned around and used those same gentle hands to guide Harry forward.
With Harry’s head against his shoulder, Snape’s voice was closer to his ears when he said, “He does not want to be touched by you. Can you not see that he is in shock at the sight of you?”
“Harry,” James spoke softly. “Let us go somewhere to discuss this.”
“You will wait until he is ready for such a conversation. Obviously, he is not.”
“You do not speak for him!”
“He is mute, you daft fool! He has been since the dog died.” The arms around him seemed to tighten, almost as though Snape was trying to soften the blow of his words. “Someone has to speak for him.”
“And you think you can have that privilege?” There was a dangerous undercurrent in James’ words.
“He chose me, didn’t he?”
“Harry?” Harry sighed. He’d had his eyes closed from the moment Snape pulled him close, but now he opened them. He locked eyes once more on the hazel ones of his father. James’ eyebrows were pulled together, the man confused. “You feel… safe… with-“ His face scrunched up. “-Snape?”
He nodded. Harry let go of the professor and took a step back, but refused to go further. He looked at McGonagall. She was staring at the two of them like she had never seen them before. Dumbledore had a displeased look on his face. For once, Harry didn’t care, even if it was meant for him.
Harry looked back at James. “You’re really mute? You don’t speak?” He shook his head. “I’d really love it if you tried.”
“Potter-“ Harry waved a hand at Snape, stopping him. He looked at his father and shook his head again.
“Alright. Alright.” James held his hands up in surrender, but the look on face told Harry it was anything but. “I won’t push. Just… I’m here. For whatever you need.” With one last glare at Snape, James left, Dumbledore following him. Harry thought it was weird the headmaster hadn’t said a single word.
It seemed McGonagall wasn’t going to leave so easily. She took a few steps toward them, then stopped. “Are you okay, Harry? I know seeing your father must have been jarring.” She didn’t know the half of it, Harry was sure.
Knowing she wouldn’t back off otherwise, he nodded.
“If that changes, my office door is always open for you.” When he nodded again, she left.
The moment the door was closed behind her, Harry took off towards the closest toilet, kneeling on the ground to throw up. When he was done, he sat back and let his eyes fall shut.
Harry was tired. He had so many emotions. His father was alive. Had he been alive the whole time? Or was this a new development? If he had been alive, why had Harry went to the Dursley’s? Why couldn’t he have stayed with James?
He was fairly sure Dumbledore knew how he was treated. Did James know as well? Did James even care? Speaking of caring, there was Snape to think about. Harry was shocked by how the professor defended him. Alone, before the other three adults arrived and after Harry had come back to himself, Snape was his usual rude self. But the moment Harry was in distress again and latched onto him, instead of shoving him away in disgust, Snape had allowed it. Encouraged it, even. He wasn’t sure what Snape would do now, however.
The man in questioned cleared his throat. Harry opened his eyes and turned toward him. The moment they made eye contact, Snape turned his head just enough for it to break.
“Do you need to visit Madam Pomfrey, Potter?” Harry shook his head. Snape seemed to hesitate before saying, “More of the before issue?” He dropped his gaze to the floor, bracing himself as he nodded.
“I truly would have expected you to be over the moon with this development.” Snape sighed. “Regardless, hiding in the bathroom all year will not make your troubles go away.” Harry glanced up at him again. Snape’s face was blank. Carefully so.
Harry nodded to show he had heard him. Quickly, as though if trying not to overthink it, Snape held out a hand to offer Harry assistance with standing. He grabbed onto it gently and Snape helped him up. He was a bit shocked that it wasn’t done roughly.
Snape seemed to look him over quickly and then turned, leaving the bathroom without saying another word. Harry stopped to wash his face again and followed. The corridor was empty when he stepped out and as he walked up to Gryffindor tower, he didn’t run into anyone.
Upon entering the common room, Harry noticed Hermione and Ron waiting for him in the corner. Everyone else quieted down and turned to him. Ron walked to him and stood in front of him, blocking him from view. “Oi! This isn’t some Muggle entertainment piece. Stop staring.”
The whispers started up as Hermione joined them. Knowing his friends wanted to talk to him and being aware it would be impossible inside the common room, he motioned for them to follow him back out to the corridor. They went to a nearby hidden alcove and ducked inside it.
“Did you know, mate?” Ron wasted no time. Harry shook his head.
“I didn’t think so, Harry.” Hermione spoke softly, concerned. “How are you holding up? You left pretty quickly after it was announced.”
Harry hesitated for a moment, then shook his head again, hoping the meaning behind it would be clear. Hermione threw her arms around him. He let his own loosely wrap around her in return. Ron awkwardly pat his back.
“If my dead dad came back after 15 years, I’d be pretty comfused about it too.”
Hermione released him. “Did he go after you? Him, Professor McGonagall, and Dumbledore all left soon after you did.” He nodded. Either it must not have been too soon after or they hadn’t found him quickly. Harry was sure it had taken him a good while to calm down from screaming. That reminded him to swallow to test his throat. Still painful. He grimaced. Hermione opened her mouth to comment on it and he shook his head.
“Did he hurt you or upset you?” Hurt, no. Upset, yes. But Ron seemed to be in protective mode and Harry didn’t feel like nonverbally trying to explain what happened, so he shook his head. Harry would be so relieved when the drama from this died down. This was the most communication he had done since before the summer and he was tired.
Hermione sensed it. “I don’t like how he has just popped back up in existence like he didn’t miss so much of your life. Let us know if he tries to push you too much, okay?” When Harry nodded, the three of them went back to the common room.
Harry broke off from his friends to go up to the dorm room. The room was empty. The curtains on all the beds were drawn and when Harry opened his to crawl inside, there was a small bottle with a piece of parchment tied around it with a silver ribbon. Harry untied the parchment and unfolded it to see the words written on it.
For your throat. Take before bed.
It was Snape’s handwriting. Harry looked at the milky pink liquid, feeling something in him warm. Maybe Snape actually did care. He certainly wouldn’t have sent him something to help with the pain if he didn’t. Not thinking twice about it, Harry took the potion and put the note and vial under his pillow. He was asleep not even three minutes later.
~-~-~-~-~
The next morning, when Harry and his friends left the common room, it took all of his self control to keep from turning around to go right back in. James was standing outside, leaning against the wall on his side, facing the portrait with his arms crossed. When he noticed them, he straightened up.
“Good morning.” James smiled at them. Ron and Hermione looked at Harry, silently asking him what he wanted to do. He nodded at them. They understood his meaning and took off ahead of them. Harry waited a moment and then also started walking, but at a slightly slower pace.
James fell into step beside him. “I take it those are your friends.” He nodded. James sighed. “Still not talking?” Harry shook his head. “Dumbledore told me this was a recent development. That before Sirius… before you were able to speak. Even for a little while after too.” Harry shrugged.
“Whatever reason you have for staying mute, you can tell me. I can help you, Harry. I want to help you. I’m your dad. You’re my son. I’m here.”
Harry didn’t respond. He didn’t know how to explain that James being there was the new issue. He also didn’t want to explain why he was mute. If James hadn’t bothered to come for him his entire life, why should Harry trust him to care now?
James attempted to spark conversation a few more times after that, but Harry didn’t even respond with any of his usual movements. He was too angry. His father gave up before they got to the Great Hall. Without even looking in his direction, Harry went to Gryffindor table and sat between his best friends.
His father paused behind him, but thought better of whatever he planned to do and went on to the head table. Harry chanced a look at the faculty sitting up there before his father reached his seat. He noticed Snape was absent again. Harry couldn’t help but to wonder why.
He quickly ate his food. Harry had a feeling that James would try to catch him after breakfast to talk again, and he wanted to avoid that as much as possible. Ron and Hermione seemed to catch on. When he jumped up to head on to Transfiguration, they stood with him and followed him out. He could feel eyes watching him as he left.