If You Wanted to be my Father

But This Time it's his Father (1)

The beginning of summer has always proven to be difficult for Harry, especially after going to Hogwarts. The Dursleys had never been too unusually violent in Harry's opinion, although after years of abuse the violence had been somewhat desensitized in Harry's lightning green eyes. If you were to ask anyone who Harry looked like, it would be James Potter. His jet black hair, and terrible eyesight, however that may have been a mental game their eyes had played with their brains. Who else would Harry look like, after all, James Potter is Harry's father?

There is another black-haired schoolboy, who Lily Evans had been close to, and it wasn't James Potter, but rather Severus Snape. Severus Snape had been a name that had been bouncing around Harry's head practically all summer, as he had found out his true parentage from Dumbledore. The one question though that Harry had tried to push down was if Severus Snape would even want Harry as his son.

Snape had spent most of Harry's Hogwarts career loathing him, but without James Potter as his father, would it suddenly go away, or would Harry find out the worse truth, Snape just hated him? It was easy for Harry to brush off the Dursleys neglect, as he had been constantly reminded he was not their son, but he was Snape's son. Was he just unwantable? Was he really the burden Uncle Vernon said he was, or the spoiled brat Severus claimed roamed the halls?

Dumbledor had already informed Harry that for the rest of the summer he would be staying with his father and Draco Malfoy. Harry had never felt this many emotions at once, but anywhere was better than the Dursleys.

That night he made sure the bruises that scattered his ribs and back were covered. He didn't need sympathy from his father, just the love that came from someone who had wanted you for a long time.

Morning came in a flash, and suddenly it felt like Dumbledore had arrived too fast. Harry wasn't sure he was ready, but before he had time to think about it, He was apparated to Prince Manor, dropped at the doorstep, and greeted by a not so happy face.

"Well, Potter, nice to see that you arrived on time, although I'm sure none of it was your doing." Snape sneered, it almost seemed as though nothing had changed

"You know very well I'm not a Potter," Harry said in a used tone as he examined his shows trying his best not to look up.

Snapes face hardened, "Potter or not I have a room set up for you, and a list of chores that needs completing."

Harry walked through the entryway of the house. An inviting sensation called him in, only to be shut down by the glares Severus was giving him. There in the living room sat one Draco Malfoy. His father had been sent to Askaban after the defeat of Voldemort when Harry was an infant. Severus was his Godfather, however, their relationship was more father-son than Harry could ever hope for.

They climbed the stairs in silence until they arrived at the smallest room in the manor. There was no doubt Snape had rooms that were less beaten up and unused. There was no doubt that there were definitely rooms larger, perhaps ones closer to his. However, to harry it was amazing because the room was his...

It was no longer Dudley;'s second bedroom, the Dursleys cupboard, and a couple times the Dursleys shed. it was his, and those words held some sort of value.

Snape could have sworn the brat would complain at the room he was given, but nothing, so he took his leave. He left a list of chores on the desk and went to spend some quality time with Draco, after all, it was summer.

Harry put his trunk down and looked at the list his fath- Snape had given him. It seemed almost as impossibly long as the Dursleys, but at least there were fewer beatings, and full meals, right?

There was a pit in Harry's stomach that began to form as he looked at the list. It felt like the Dursleys but it was somehow worse. His own dad didn't really want him around. He had Draco.

You could call the pit jealousy or longing, but either way, it didn't feel good. Draco wasn't even Severus's son, he was! Harry kicked the chair at the thought.

Family really seemed pointless, didn't it?

Harry put on a pair of Dudley's old clothes. He looked in the mirror. he was looking more and more like Snape every day. His hair had grown to his shoulders, he noted as he pulled it up into a sloppy bun.

Out in Snape's garden, the sun beat down on his back, as he weeded. Severus and Draco had opted to brew potions together in the living room, just like Vernon and Dudley, Harry was just a bystander. Someone who could watch through the window but never quite get the same feeling as the people inside the house do. The only difference is this time it was his father.

Harry remembers when he was five, the first time he was left sick in his cupboard. His chest hurt, and the coldness of the room had begun to make him uneasy. His headache was pounding, and all he could hear was Aunt Petunia taking care of Dudley upstairs. He wanted to be in that room so badly.

But it wasn't so bad, because he would just remember that if his parents were alive they would smother him until he got better. He would imagine the warm feeling their hugs would bring and the hunger clenching food that would be brought to his bed.

Instead, the next day, Vernon got sick, and Harry got a few kicks in the ribs.

His father was inside the house, but Harry was sure if he got sick Snape wouldn't care as much as the man in his dreams did.

He guessed he just wasn't destined to get that feeling, so he went on weeding.