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"I believe I should leave you here." He stated calmly, turning his attention to Harry. "When you're finished or if you need anything, call for Minnie and she'll notify me, okay?" Harry nodded. It was time.
"Of course. Thanks, Dad." Neville gasped just as Severus' smile broadened; the potions master felt as if he could smile away forever. This was the first time Harry had called him Dad in the presence of someone who knew who they were, other than the house elves of the castle, and the warmth his title procured flooded his heart like the most potent Pepper-Up potion in the world. With one last smile, he exited the library, leaving one determined and one astounded boy in his midst.
"Dad?" Neville echoed, his head spinning.
"Yes." Harry stated, an apologetic smile on his face; not for calling Severus his father per se, never that, but for dropping the bomb so unceremoniously on his unsuspecting friend. "And that's not even near the end of it."
"Dad?" Neville repeated. "That's your secret? Professor Snape is your father? But you're Adrian's twin! Is Professor Snape his father too? How could that be? I mean, no offence, but Adrian's the spitting image of your Dad, I mean of Mr. Potter, I mean… I don't even know what I mean!" The teen exclaimed, a hand flying to his head, feeling dizzy. Harry, noticing his friend's distress, walked forward.
"Maybe we should sit down for this. Or at least you should." He amended as he led Neville backwards and on one of the armchairs in front of the fireplace. "I'd rather stand, if you don't mind." The brown eyed teen grunted as a form of an answer, waiting expectantly for his dizzy spell to pass and for Harry to explain. "Minnie!" The boy called suddenly, making Neville gasp. A loud cracking sound later, a house elf -donning a clean and fluffy towel- appeared looking worriedly at Harry.
"Yes, young master Harry? Is everything alright?" The young master in question smiled and nodded.
"As alright as it can be, Minnie, don't worry. Could you, please, bring us some cold water? We might need it." The elf nodded and disappeared only to return with a silver tray, a pitcher of water and two crystal glasses on it.
"Would that be all, master Harry?" The house elf inquired.
"For now. Just, do tell Dad not to wear a hole in the hallway's floor with his pacing, will you?" He added as an afterthought, smirking slightly; he wasn't really in the mood for joking, but he didn't want to worry poor Minnie too. "I'm quite fond of the carpet." He concluded. His words seemed to have the desired effect as the house elf's forehead relaxed, the worried frown slipping away.
"Of course, master Harry sir." And with another cracking sound, she was gone.
"Young master? Merlin's beard, you truly are his son!" Neville cried out.
"Yes." Harry agreed. "Maybe however, I should take this from the beginning. And when I say from the beginning, I'm afraid I'll have to go back fifteen years ago, back when Voldemort was at his strongest. Just bare with me for a while."
"Fifteen years ago, you said?" Neville asked, his shock and confusion over the latest developments overriding his deeply rooted fear at the mention of Voldemort's name.
"Give or take a month." Harry explained, smiling ruefully.
"If you think that it'll help you explain…"
"It will."
"Then by all means, explain." Neville almost pleaded, sinking deeper into the plush armchair. Harry nodded in accordance and starting pacing up and down in front of his best friend, recalling the order in which he had decided he should narrate all that had happened to him. Abruptly he stopped, his eyes staring intently at Neville.
"In order for you to understand exactly what has happened, I'll need to relate to you two prophecies. One was made more than a thousand years ago and one only fifteen years past. They both mention the same chain of events, more or less, one being more detailed than the other. I should probably start with the chronologically newer one; it was the one that set everything into motion after all. With me so far?" Neville looked at him completely astounded but utterly intrigued. Prophecies? Two of them? What was going on here?
"I'm trying." He answered, making an effort to follow what his friend was saying.
"Alright then. As I was saying, fifteen years ago, Voldemort was stronger than he had ever been; everything showed that he would win the war and our side was suffering the consequences. And then, out of the blue, a prophecy was made. A prophecy that contained clues of Voldemort's downfall." Neville's attention was completely focused on the story and he didn't even bother to stop and flinch in fear at the Dark Lord's name, afraid Harry would stop his narration.
"And?" He prodded, making Harry smile sadly. In the form of an answer, Harry began reciting.
HI GUYS IF YOU WANT READ 300 + CHAPTERS THEN VISIT
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