BRIGHT GREEN EYES
BRIGHT GREEN EYES
This one-shot is inspired by Snape's profile on wikiHarryPotter. It says that Harry made sure that his portrait was hung in Dumbledore's office, but it is unknown if he ever spoke to it. This is what would've happened if he had...
Disclaimer: If I owned Harry Potter, I can tell you that I'd change a lot of things.
Harry unlocked Burrow Jr's front door and walked in.
They had been renting out a flat together a few weeks after the Battle, but Harry had moved out to be with Ginny two years ago, leaving it to Ron. It had been almost exactly eight years since the Battle had ended. Harry's life had turned into an endless parade of interviews and appearances, Auror training and Ministry managing. He wasn't Minister, but he had been offered the position twice – and they still questioned him about security and Aurors and every now and then something higher up.
"Ever heard of knocking?" a voice greeted. A red head came in the living room, smiling.
"You know where Hermione is?" Harry asked, he thought that she would care more about this.
"Do you know where Ginny is?" Ron fired back.
Harry twisted his golden wedding band. "She's at home."
"What are you gonna name Green Eyes?" Ron asked.
"Don't call him that," he responded automatically. He didn't like Ron's affectionate name for his second nephew. "I don't know. The Healer said we can wait before deciding. But we'll have to go back."
"What about Ron?" he suggested innocently.
"Ha, ha, nice try. I want to name him after someone who was important to me. Sorry," Harry added, seeing Ron clutching his heart melodramatically. "That came out wrong. But I wanted to talk to Hermione. You—?"
"No," Ron said, "'Mione said she had to run some errands. Why?"
"Just… it's nothing."
Harry turned to go out.
"Come on! I thought it was Ginny that was supposed to have the negative emotions, not you."
Harry considered telling him and decided to, even though he knew Ron wouldn't really care. "I did it."
"Did what?" Ron picked up a copy of Which Broomstick?
"I got Snape's portrait hung in Dumbledore's office."
"Oh, that." Ron snorted, tossing the magazine back on the table. He didn't really understand Harry's need to try and make things up towards Snape. "They finally caved?"
Harry nodded, keeping a hold on the door.
"What're you waiting for? Come in."
Harry shook his head. "There's something I still need to do. Mind if I use the Floo?"
Ron said no, and Harry took a handful of the green powder. He had an appointment that he didn't want to miss. "Hogwarts!" he said, throwing the powder in and walking into the fireplace.
The world spun and everything blurred before he found himself headfirst in Professor McGonagall's rug.
"Sorry, Professor," he said, standing up and brushing the soot off him.
"That's all right, Harry."
Harry's eyes wandered the portraits and saw the one to the right of Dumbledore's. It was the same greasy black haired, sneering, irritating Potions Master he remembered. Except that Harry didn't feel scared or angry or even hatred when he saw his face.
"Would you like to talk to him alone?" Headmistress McGonagall's voice broke through his thoughts.
She walked out of the room, closing the door quietly behind her.
"I won't be long," Harry promised after her.
He looked at Snape, whom he knew still hated him.
"What do you want, Potter? Don't you have others to antagonize, or a family to take care of?"
Harry glared at his former teacher. "I do, actually, but I want to say I'm sorry."
Whatever Snape was expecting, it certainly wasn't that.
"For what?" he snapped.
"For not believing that you were Dumbledore's, even though it would've had to work that way for the plan to work." Harry ran his hand through his hair anxiously and took a deep breath. "Sna-Severus, you're probably the bravest man I've ever known and will ever know."
Snape's mouth dropped open.
"I have two kids," Harry muttered, knowing what he was going to do, then he rose his voice. "The older is James Sirius Potter. Th-the younger boy is…" Harry bit his lip, wondering how Ginny would kill him "… he has my green eyes, my mother's green eyes. He's Albus Severus Potter."
Snape looked like he was going to faint or try to throw something any second. He looked like he didn't know what to do. But Harry swore that there were something like tears in his eyes.
"You don't have to say anything," Harry said. His eyes caught Dumbledore's portrait; he was smiling happily. "I just thought you might want to know. Good day, Professor."
Harry closed the door behind him and thought he heard Dumbledore say, "I told you he wouldn't be able to hate you forever. He's too much like Lily Evans."
"Potter," Snape corrected. "Lily Potter."
How do you like? Was it too much?