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Harry’s palms were cold and sweaty. He rubbed them together unconsciously, using his shirt as a towel for the accumulated moisture. The air around him was unusually chilly.
He wasn’t sure this was a good idea. No, scratch that. He was pretty sure this was a terrible idea. The twist in his gut screamed and shouted at him to come back to his senses and stop this before the whole fiasco happened.
But it was too late to back out now, seeing how everyone gathered in Grimmauld Place. Mrs Weasley was finishing the last few touches, the steaming food was overflowing the dining table, and in the centre of it all nestled a gigantic chocolate cake with candles ready to be lit. A modest pile of birthday presents awaited in one of the corners, and a big sign saying “Happy Birthday Severus” was plastered above the fireplace.
It was an overkill. Harry knew he’d overdone it, but he wanted to do something special for the man. After all, Snape deserved it.
Of course, he didn’t mean for the occasion to become so big, but once Mrs Weasley got the wind of what he was planning, she enthusiastically offered her help. She also invited the rest of the order and the get-together was complete.
The whole Weasley family, including Bill, Charlie, and Percy was there, Tonks with Lupin and small Teddy, Kingsley and Moody, and even Mundungus Fletcher made an appearance. Hell, it was a miracle the newly appointed Minister himself didn’t drop by, Harry solemnly realized. Since the war was over, everyone seemed to jump at every opportunity to celebrate any kind of occasion.
Thus, Snape was destined to spend his birthday with people he had little to nothing in common with. And he didn’t know it yet.
Harry bit his lip fiercely, drawing blood. He calculated his chances of surviving to see the next day… and realized they were slim at best.
“Remind me, what’s the sentence for killing an adoptive child?” Harry stalked over to Hermione, half-whispering his question. She gave him an odd look and then laughed.
“Getting nervous?” she teased playfully. “It’s just a birthday party. You are not organizing a secret wedding for him.”
“That doesn’t make it any better. Were it a wedding, I could just direct his wrath at his soon-to-be-wife. As it is now, I’m the one bearing full responsibility,” Harry muttered, not amused when Hermione’s laugh intensified.
“It’ll be fine. Besides, he cannot really kill you, the hero of the wizarding world would be greatly missed,” Hermione continued with her coaxing, which more resembled blatant ridicule.
“You’re not taking me seriously,” Harry retorted, suddenly feeling sullen.
“No, Harry, I’m not,” she admitted openly. “Snape has adopted you, for goodness' sake. You’ve been his family for four years, stop acting as if you’ve known him for four minutes! I’m sure he’ll understand your intentions and appreciate the effort.”
“Sounds like you’re the one who doesn’t know him,” Harry muttered, willing the uneasiness to go away.
He’d never done something special for Severus’ birthday, or any holiday for that matter. Before Harry ‘vanquished’ Voldemort last year, the time never seemed right. It felt wrong celebrating when the world outside suffered.
Now, the time was right, yet it still felt wrong.
“Everything’s ready!” Mrs Weasley announced, successfully putting an end to Harry’s troubled thoughts.
“Now, just like we rehearsed. Fred, George, I see you! Whatever you wanted to do with that turkey is from now on forbidden!”
The twins just rolled their eyes, mumbling something about their mother ruining the fun, but Harry saw that the smirks never left their faces. He noted to avoid the turkey and give heads-up to Severus as well. One would think the chaotic pair of siblings would've grown up by now.
“Harry, are you ready?” Mrs Weasley suddenly inquired. He found himself nodding in response.
The lights in the dining room dimmed down and Harry marched towards the fireplace, kneeled down, and fire-called their home. He expected Severus to be in his study and pick up immediately, but it took the man some time. With each passing second, Harry’s anxiety escalated.
“Harry?” he heard a slight confusion in Snape’s voice when his adoptive father finally answered. Given Harry told him he was going to meet Ron and Hermione for dinner, he expected Severus to be more surprised.
“Severus, I know this is sudden but I need you to step through. Something happened-“ Harry felt pair of hands yanking his collar backwards, disconnecting him from the call mid-sentence.
“Sorry Harrykins, you were taking forever and we’re all hungry,” he heard one of the twins say.
In the next second, the Floo lit up with an ominous green flame and a visibly distressed Severus Snape graciously stepped out of the fireplace.
“Happy Birthday!!!”
Immediately, the whole room roared at the same time the lights were switched back on. Someone even clapped in the background (was it you, Tonks?) and others whistled (Mundungus? Ron?).
Harry cared none for them. His eyes were glued on Severus, whose expression took on all shades of emotions, from initial panic to apprehension to… fury. Then, the man blinked and it all vanished, his face maintaining the familiarly unreadable blankness.
Harry’s stomach twisted and he quickly glanced at Hermione, searching if his friend saw what Harry deemed to be Severus’ motive for murder. She didn’t, Hermione was too busy coddling Teddy and conversing with Tonks. Harry suppressed a groan and turned to his guardian again.
“Happy Birthday, Severus,” he forced himself to smile, swallowing thickly. Snape bestowed him a glare.
“Thank you. What an… unexpected surprise,” he drawled, his eyes quickly scanning the room. Harry exhaled in relief, at least Severus managed to be more or less civil.
“Severus, sit right here, at the head of the table.”
Luckily, Mrs Weasley interrupted them. Harry was rapidly running out of things to say, and he almost blurted out an apology right then and there. Knowing how ridiculous that would sound to all people present (except to Severus), he managed to hold his tongue.
Snape looked like he wanted to sit just anywhere else and not at the very end of the long table, but was ushered there nonetheless. Harry took a seat to Severus’ left while Kingsley sat to Snape’s right. Others followed their custom and in a moment, the whole room was filled with chatter and clinking of cutlery.
The supper was starting when the twins suddenly suggested singing a Happy Birthday song.
It was hard to say who looked more mortified; Harry, Snape, or Molly Weasley.
Before anyone had the chance to stop them, George inhaled theatrically and started singing the most off-tune birthday melody Harry had lived to hear. Fred joined him shortly afterwards, making it even worse.
A whole alarm siren was going off in Harry’s ears (excluding the terrible song), and he didn’t dare to look in Severus’ direction. Kingsley, who was sitting across from Harry, must have noticed his expression because to everyone’s bemusement, he briskly joined the twins in their performance.
Suddenly, the whole room was singing. Off-key, with an awkward hint to it.
“Happy Birthday to youuu,”
“Happy Birthday dear (the name was a mixture of Mr Snape, Professor, and Severus)”
“Happy Birthday to youuu.”
“And one more time!!” Fred yelled after it finally ended.
Harry felt as if his whole body cramped when he heard the suggestion, and to his utmost horror, they all really started singing again.
I died and now I’m in hell. Voldemort defeated me and this is my punishment, Harry lamented silently. He imagined similar thoughts must have been going through Severus’ mind. Or not. Maybe he plotted Harry’s demise. Harry wouldn’t blame him.
Harry didn’t dare to join the singing activity (and he hardly wanted to anyway). He didn’t dare to move or breathe. The song, those stupid four lines, went on endlessly. The time never passed so slowly.
How do they know this song, isn’t it muggle-origin? he thought feverishly.
Finally chancing to glance around the table, Harry noticed the only one who wasn’t singing except him was Moody, making Harry feel immense gratitude. He couldn’t imagine what that would sound like, but he’d bet his vault that Moody wasn’t a singer.
Then, just before the song ended, Harry couldn’t stay still anymore. He stealthily looked at his adoptive father to assess the damage. His guts crouched.
Snape’s expression was made out of stone. His stoic stare was pinned to the wall across the room, eyelids unblinking. If someone told Harry the man was stunned and petrified by a spell, he’d believe them. Maybe he was.
Will I be disowned after this evening is over? Can you even disown an adopted child once they turn adult? Is there an un-adopting procedure?
Loud applause and Teddy’s cheerful laughter disturbed Harry’s spiral of thoughts.
The dinner finally started. All the guests were suddenly occupied and the commotion died down. The conversations were modest, someone would occasionally compliment Mrs Weasley’s cooking or asked for something to be passed to them. The room suspiciously stilled.
Harry hardly ate. He couldn’t focus on anything, but he did remember to warn Severus about the turkey, whispering to him how the twins probably meddled with it. Snape, whose plate was humbly loaded with several steamed vegetables, didn’t reply. Harry realized the man didn’t say anything to him since his arrival and concluded it was probably for the best.
He wasn’t looking forward to facing Severus who had something to say.
Harry thought the birthday song was the worst calamity of that evening. He was wrong. If anything, it served as a prelude to what was to come.
After their meal, it was time for the birthday cake. Harry told Mrs Weasley that Severus liked chocolate, but judging by Snape’s current attitude, he started to wonder if he was wrong.
His guardian refused to blow out the candles, but somebody lit them anyway (probably the twins) and then blew them out (again, the twins). Snape declined to taste the cake even when Molly insisted; Harry had to give her an especially pleading look to make her drop the subject. She did so, reluctantly, but only after packing some of the cake into a box for Severus to take home.
Later, Charlie and Ron brought out the presents and Snape was pressured to open them right there. With everyone spectating him, waiting in anticipation for some kind of reaction. Harry handily snatched his present from the pile, shrunk it and hid it in his pocket to gift it to the man in private.
Most of the gifts were anonymous and consisted of potion ingredients or brewing tools. However, there were some memorable items, Mrs Weasley knitted a green and silver scarf for him, Hermione bought Severus the newest edition of Asian Potion Ingredients, and the twins gave Snape disillusionment pills, their newest invention. Apparently, they had longer-lasting effects than the charm.
Harry couldn’t imagine a scenario in which Severus would have a use for these pills but didn’t dare to comment on it.
The last present was from Moody and Harry nearly collapsed when he saw the contents of it. Three-in-one; Shampoo, Conditioner, Hair Mask read the label on the black glass bottle Snape fished out of the gift box.
“I use this one myself,” Moody mentioned as if it made the whole thing better. Harry heard suppressed snickers and wanted the floor to swallow him.
Severus stared at the bottle for a long second and then thanked Moody with the most neutral voice Harry ever heard.
Harry wanted to cut the evening short at that moment, but Hermione and Ron dragged him away, keeping him occupied for the rest of the night. He saw Severus talk with Kingsley and then Lupin sometime later, and the man did look a fraction less uncomfortable than at the start of the birthday party.
Harry took it as a good sign.
Everyone who ate the turkey had currently their hair dyed black. The colour had an oily shine to it and Hermione and Ginny were especially unhappy with their new visage. Fred and George had to swear on their names the effects were only temporary, but their words would carry more weight if they weren’t laughing in between the explanation.
Fortunately, it lasted only about an hour, but to Harry, it seemed like an uncomfortable eternity. He avoided Severus’ eyes the whole time.
The guests slowly dispersed as the night drew on, allowing Harry and Severus to floo to their home around two in the morning. Mrs Weasley packed them the leftover food, more cake, and all of Snape’s presents (Harry’s plan to leave Moody’s 3in1 present behind was futile).
Harry was exhausted once they reached the end destination, the fatigue becoming progressively difficult to ignore. However, the second he and Severus found themselves alone in their living room, a wave of adrenaline washed over the younger boy.
Gripping tightly the boxes he was holding, Harry braced himself. The wait wasn’t long, Severus started his storm almost immediately.
“What in Merlin’s name possessed you to do that?” Snape hissed angrily. “Was it all really necessary? Do you have any idea how your fire-call made me feel?!”
“You wouldn’t have come otherwise,” Harry blurted out, mortified at his boldness. The glass of firewhisky he had earlier was giving him courage.
Snape sneered.
“Yes, precisely. I wouldn’t have come, glad we established that. Now, do tell, why would you push the matter then and fool me to make an appearance?” Severus berated him.
“You never accept any invitations. We didn’t even go to Weasley’s for Christmas, remember? They just wanted to celebrate your birthday with you,” Harry reasoned, this time in a milder and less accusing tone.
“I do remember how we spent our Christmas, my memory is not going senile yet, thank you for your concern. Have you ever wondered why I decline these invitations?”
Because you just cannot stand anyone, Harry thought bitterly but kept his mouth shut. He didn’t want the conversation to escalate into a full argument. Severus was glaring at him intensely and Harry had the urge to squirm under his gaze. God, he didn’t feel the sensation in ages, Snape scarcely behaved this unbearably.
“Because I like my quiet and peace,” he continued when Harry offered silence as a response. “The polar opposite of what we experienced today. It also creates liabilities. I now own the whole Weasley clan and Order members a birthday present, which means I either attend their birthday celebration or send something by an owl. Either way, it’s a nuisance,” Snape explained, fury building up inside him.
“Nobody expects you to do that,” Harry argued, the sense to defend his friends kicking in.
“It’s not about expectations, it’s about politeness,” Severus snapped back.
“Even better, you’re not exactly a polite person!”
Snape’s expression darkened and Harry took an involuntary step back. Severus didn’t fail to notice the gesture but didn’t comment on it.
“I ask you again. What. Were. You. Thinking?” he asked in a condescending fashion, his voice a little less harsh.
“I just thought you might like it,” Harry muttered, averting his gaze. He felt stupid for trying his best for someone who never appreciated it. “You spend your every birthday with me or on your own.”
“You thought wrong. I’m perfectly capable of appreciating my own company,” Severus retorted and started pacing around the room.
“Until when? Until when will you enjoy your loneliness? What if I’m not here once you need someone by your side?” the younger man asked weakly.
It’s been haunting Harry since Voldemort killed him and he came back. Back then, Harry was leaving his friends behind, but they had each other and would’ve pushed through his loss. But Severus? The man would crawl into his potions lab, never to be seen again.
“You’re giving yourself far too much credit,” Severus waved his hand but Harry saw the look which crossed his face. Concern and fear.
“You need friends, Severus,” Harry said in a pleading voice. He wasn’t sure what exactly he was begging for, probably for Snape to finally understand. Judging by the look his guardian gave - him as if Harry just insulted him, it was clear the man didn’t understand.
“If ‘having friends’ means what I’ve experienced tonight, then I politely decline,” there was nothing polite in Snape’s speech.
Harry was at his wits. It was late, his emotional balance was shattered, and Severus was blind to the point Harry was trying to make. Whether it was on purpose or Snape was really that oblivious was unknown.
“Then, am I a nuisance as well?” a quiet, almost inaudible voice asked. It took Harry a second to realize it was his own.
Everything was so heavy suddenly, the boxes in his hands weighing a ton. He put them down carefully, busying himself to avoid the stare Severus was bestowing him. Harry hoped he did not hear the pathetic question he just asked, but he wasn’t that lucky. Snape’s ears were like bat’s.
Harry knew he was being childish. So damn childish. It’s been years for goodness’ sake, as Hermione said. But some moments, these moments, made Harry conscious of Severus’ decision to adopt him. Snape gave him gifts for every occasion, was it out of obligation as well? What else did he do just out of a sense of duty and what was authentic? What if… Severus regretted becoming his guardian? After all, Harry’s life had hardly been a pinnacle of peace and quiet.
It was just a stupid party, don’t read too much into it. Now’s not the time to undermine your relationship, Harry mentally smacked himself, his mature self coming to some sense.
“I’m sorry I made you feel uncomfortable today,” Harry apologized tiredly, trying to find a common ground. “I’ll try to make it up to you.”
He wanted to add “goodnight” to end the exchange, but it seemed rude. Severus usually wanted to have the last word in their ‘heated conversations.’
Snape just continued to stare at him in silence. Harry let him. Severus used to do it sometimes, pondering on his thoughts while sizing up the object (in this case Harry) that puzzled him.
“You foolish brat,” Severus finally said, his voice lacking the previous rage. “I can see what you’re thinking, it’s written all over your face.”
He stalked over to Harry, clasping both his shoulders tightly.
“Just because we have a disagreement about your birthday gift for me doesn’t mean I don’t wish to have you around,” Severus pressed. “You and your Gryffindor denseness, do I have to say everything out loud for you?”
When Harry didn’t reply, Snape sighed exhaustedly and then continued.
“Harry, you are my child. Maybe not by blood, but you’re one nonetheless. A disastrous celebration with Weasleys and the rest won’t change it.”
There was a hint of amusement in his voice as Severus said the last sentence. Harry stared at him speechlessly, desperately searching for a reply. His mind was too busy relishing in the warm feeling that washed over him.
“That wasn’t my birthday gift,” he finally spoke.
Snape blinked once in surprise, not following Harry’s thought processes.
“I almost forgot,” Harry realized all of a sudden and rummaged through his pockets. Snape let go of his shoulders to give him space. “The party wasn’t my gift, err… not the one I knew you’d like, anyway,” he flushed as he fished out a miniature item wrapped messily in green wrapping.
Severus watched Harry as he enlarged the present and handed it to him with a hesitant look.
“And you suppose I’ll appreciate this one?” Snape asked with his eyebrows raised up.
“I think so, yeah,” Harry nodded, but then he remembered the chocolate situation and his confidence faltered. “Although, you didn’t really like the cake…”
“My appetite was drowned somewhere during the celebratory singing,” Severus offered as an explanation and didn’t elaborate. Harry understood as he shared the sentiment.
“Ah.”
Snape gasped softly upon unwrapping Harry’s present. It was an old and worn book, with ancient binding and a leather cover. The title read Potions and History, Volume 4. It was the last book from the series Severus didn’t have in possession.
“Harry, how did you…?” his voice was barely above a whisper and Harry realized he’d made his adoptive father speechless.
“It wasn’t easy, but not impossible for the known war hero,” the boy grimaced awkwardly.
Severus had been collecting the fourteen-piece book set forever. Harry knew he’d given up on ever completing the collection, so he used some connections to find a seller of this particular book. It cost a hefty sum of money and time, but the expression on Severus’ face made it worth it.
“Happy Birthday, Dad.”
To end the catastrophic night with a style, Harry leaned close and hugged him. The brief squeeze he received from Severus in return conveyed all emotions.
The next morning, Snape looked like he didn’t sleep a second. The book Harry gifted him was glued to Severus’ hand during breakfast, which was eaten in unusual silence.
Harry didn’t dare to interrupt Severus, who seemed content despite the visible exhaustion. He served them leftover chocolate cake during teatime and smiled when Snape ate two slices.
Later that day, Harry heard Severus fire-calling Molly and expressing his gratitude for the party and food. Despite better judgement, it was then Harry decided to make Severus’ birthday party a tradition.