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When Harry opened his eyes, he couldn’t believe it.
He’d made it!
He recognized the dark grey, cobbled streets and the playground in the distance, even though he had never been there himself before. It was a sunny and quite warm summer day, and he abandoned the run-down area and headed to the playground. It wasn’t full but there were a few little kids, running around with their parents watching them closely.
His eyes searched for the one boy with raven black hair was looking for, but he didn't seem to be around. Harry sat down under the shade of a tree, at a prudent distance from the playground. He squinted his eyes, the sunlight bright over him, but it was cool and calm under the tree.
He took a deep breath and expelled it through his mouth, his lungs filling up with the air of the town his mother had grown up in.
And him.
The playground was full of the laughter of children playing, it had been a long time since Harry had heard that carefree sound. He was watching a child, no older than two, toddling his way around the sandpit when he noticed him.
A boy around ten years old was walking with slow steps towards the park. He didn’t resemble the man he’d come to know, who commanded his classroom with only the tenor of his voice, the coldness of his eyes and the billowing of his cloak. The man was able to look down at his worst enemy and hurl insults at them without flinching.
This boy, however, looked as if he was lost. His hands were in the pockets of his too-big trousers, the blouse he was wearing also hung from his shoulders, the sleeves too big for his thin arms. His eyes wandered around the area, locating an isolated pair of old swings that were unused in a corner.
He let his body sink down on one of the swings, his shoulders hung low and his gaze focused on his feet.
Harry didn’t take his eyes off him, still from a few meters away. He noticed the body, too thin and scrawny even then, the sallow pale skin, the dirty and unkempt long black hair. Something heavy settled in his chest as he felt sorry for the boy, the man he’d come to know. The man who, even as a kid, suffered so much but was still standing. Barely, but still standing.
It was then that he felt something cold running down his spine; as if someone was observing him. He tensed his shoulders almost instinctively before he realized it was none other than the boy’s black gaze. It was not as cold as years ago, but not as warm as he’d come to know him either.
His eyes had always told him so much, and right now, even from the distance, they were brimming with curiosity. His eyebrow arched as he beckoned him closer, and Harry smirked as he nodded. He got up from the grass and walked leisurely towards the boy, sitting down on the swing next to him.
“Hello,” he greeted with a smile.
“You’re new,” the boy said, and Merlin, his voice sounded adorable without that deep richness Harry remembered, “who are you?”
“I am a mere traveller,” Harry replied, “but I’m someone who knows you.”
The boy arched his eyebrow even higher.
“What d’you mean? I haven’t the foggiest who you are,” he said, and Harry grinned.
He had never imagined he’d hear him speak like that, so direct and straightforward, his northern accent showing. He had to fight hard to suppress his smirk.
“Well, I know you are Severus Snape and live at Spinner’s End, for starters,” Harry said.
At that, the boy went completely tense, his eyes hardening as he got up from the swing with a jump.
“Who are you? Are you from the mill?” Severus asked, raising his voice with suspicion, “my father has nothing to do with－”
“No, I don’t come from the mill. I’m not from around here,” Harry said, trying to appease the boy, his hands opening in front of him.
“Then who are you? And how do you know me?”
Harry sighed, and encouraged him to sit down again.
Severus did, but still looking at him with narrowed eyes, his body turned sideways towards him.
“You know what you are, don’t you?”
Severus’s eyes looked around, making sure nobody was watching them, before nodding once, his raven black hair coming to cover half his face. Then with a movement of his fingers, a twig that was sitting under his swing started to levitate, moving around them before it landed on his hand.
Harry’s fingers clutched around his wand in his inner pocket, and with a silent charm, he transfigured the twig into a butterfly. It was orange with tinges of pink, it was utterly beautiful.
It started to fly from Severus’s hand to his own open palm. The boy watched with enraptured eyes, his mouth smiling openly, so much that his not-so-yellowed teeth were showing.
“Well, I am a wizard too,” Harry whispered to him, leaning over to talk to his ear, “and one that knows you from the future. You will get to know me in a few years’ time.”
His eyes opened wide.
“Really? Do you know me in your future? How? And why have you come here?” Severus was not a man of many words, but as a boy, he sure had many questions to ask, Harry realized with a soft smile.
“I can’t tell you that,” Harry said as he winked, “but the Severus Snape I know isn’t like you. He is... sad.”
At those words, Severus lowered his gaze, and he moved his feet to play with the dry sand.
“Then that's not so different from me now,” Severus said.
“Oh, a bit different, I would say. The man I know doesn’t look at the world in wonder like you do. He doesn’t believe he is loved or has the right to be loved. He believes he has done too much wrong to deserve it.”
Severus shrugged but kept silent.
“But you and I know that’s not the truth. We both know that deep in your heart, there’s so much good in you, Severus. So much...” Harry said, his voice nearly breaking, “and you’ve got so much to live...”
“You seem to know me better than myself,” Severus commented, “are we close, in the future? What’s your name?”
Harry wondered for a moment how much he was allowed to say, but he shrugged. He was here for a reason.
“I’m Harry. And... our relationship is a bit complicated,” Harry answered, “but I want to believe that we are close, yes.”
“But if we are, then why are you here? Why have you come to meet me now?”
Harry smiled at him sadly.
“Because you don’t listen to a lot of people in the future. But I hope you’ll listen to me, one day.”
Severus looked up at him, and then at the butterfly who was still fluttering its wings around them. He opened his palm, and the butterfly landed on it. He watched the insect as he swallowed hard, his eyes avoiding Harry's and looking down at his hand.
“I like you, Harry. You are different from the people I've met,” Severus said, “you can’t tell me when I’ll meet you?”
Harry shook his head.
“No, I'm sorry. It would change things too much,” Harry said, “but I hope you will remember me.”
“How can I forget? You’re the first one to treat me with kindness around here...” Severus said in a murmur.
Harry felt something tugging at his heart, something warm and fluttery setting in his stomach.
Without thinking one of his arms landed on Severus's shoulder, pulling him into a hug.
A surprised “oh!” fell from Severus's lips, his small body tense against Harry's as his fingers curled around the little insect, his small hand trembling. But then, he leaned into him, allowing Harry to take most of his weight.
Harry felt him hiding his face against his neck, pressing his forehead against him, and he leaned to press a small kiss to his temple.
“I am sorry you have barely known any kindness, Severus,” he whispered against him, “but I promise you, this is not your future. Not all of it, at least...”
Severus took a deep breath against him and murmured in a small voice.
“My life won't be much different than it is now, will it?”
Harry didn't want to throw cold water on the child, but he didn't want to lie to him either.
“Not for a long time. But it won't be the whole of it. I can promise you that,” he finally said.
Then he took Severus by the shoulders, facing him, and he leaned down to be at his eye level.
“It won't be easy, I know. But remember these words when you’re older, more hardened and bitter. Remember there’s someone with a heart of a lion who loves you very much. And always will.”
Severus swallowed visibly, his eyes darting back to Harry’s face in awe, his mouth hanging open.
“In the future you... you love me? Truly?”
“I do.”
His eyes lit up at Harry’s words, his lips turning into a wide grin. It seemed like the skies were opening of how bright his smile was, of how the shadow of pain seemed to lift from himself.
Harry smiled with affection as he placed his hand over Severus's. The small butterfly was still inside his hand, and together, they both opened their hands.
The insect stayed around for a little longer in Severus's hand, before they both watched as it fluttered away.
“Remember this, Severus,” Harry whispered, before taking out his wand, “remember me, and it will be alright.”
And then, Severus’s world turned black.
....................................
“Do you remember now?”
Severus opened his eyes, returning to the present moment.
He was in his quarters, in the dungeons of Hogwarts school. His old cloak hanging over his much too-thin body. His throat felt scrappy, his body old and battered and scarred by so many battles, so many hardships.
And yet, the boy in front of him had the same green eyes. The same kindness in his expression, the same smile. The same scar on his forehead.
The same heart of a lion.
“It was you... ” Severus whispered, marvelled, “all those years ago. It was you...”
He took one step closer, his boots silent on the ground, stopping in front of the boy’s trainers.
Well, man. He wasn’t a boy any longer. He hadn’t been for many years now, always fighting for his destiny, shouldering the future of the world.
“Yes, it was me,” Harry said, “and I'm sorry if I overstepped, but－”
“No...” Severus said, shaking his head.
He hadn't been able to remember a lot from that, only a small butterfly that shrouded him with calm and affection, and those words. Those words of someone who loved him, that kept him alive and with hope.
“You... that day I had quarrelled with Lily... I thought I’d lost her forever, and...” Severus swallowed hard, one of his hands travelling to Harry’s bearded face.
He traced his cheek with his fingertip, caressing the skin of the man who’d seen and done so much for his age.
Same as him.
“You erased the memory of you. But not the butterfly, and not the words you told me,” Severus whispered.
“I needed you to remember that. I needed you to know that, especially when you believe you deserve nothing, you already have so much.”
Severus hummed, the noise reverberating in his throat. They were so close...
“Harry... you reckless, sentimental fool... do you understand how much of this could have gone wrong?”
But Severus didn't have it in him to scold him. Harry nodded, still with his hand on his cheek.
“I know. But I had to do it...”
Severus sighed, and then focused his eyes on Harry. They were ablaze, reflecting the fire of the fireplace, but Severus could distinguish something else there. A hunger difficult to control, a passion almost impossible to cage. A warmth impossible to weaken.
“You said you loved me.”
“I did.”
“Do you still?”
Harry smiled, and with his hand he took a strand of Severus’s hair, placing it behind his ear. He wanted to see his face, lightened by the warmth of the fireplace.
“I do. And always will.”
Severus’s eyes changed as a sudden fire grew in them and he smiled. He leaned in and captured Harry’s lips in a sweet and delicious kiss.
“Happy birthday, my dear Severus,” Harry whispered between kisses.
And that was the best present Severus had ever received.