Son of a Snape- ON HOLD

Unexpected Visitor

Severus Snape sat at his desk in the damp, shadowy dungeons of Hogwarts, grading a stack of homework from students he could barely tolerate. With a deep sigh, he scratched out a paragraph of utter nonsense, preparing to rewrite it in his usual terse manner, when the door to his classroom burst open.

"Mother?" A young voice shouted from the doorway.

Snape's black eyes snapped up, his usual scowl deepening. "How dare you enter my classroom without knocking?" he demanded, rising to his full height. "And as you can see, I am not your mother."

The boy, clearly startled, froze in place. His face drained of color as he met Snape's glare.

"In addition," Snape continued, his voice growing colder, "you are not a student here. So who are you?"

The boy blinked several times, a look of confusion on his face, then shook his head. "My apologies, sir." He turned to close the door behind him and, as he walked toward Snape's desk, muttered to himself, he exhaled sharply. "I came to report that the potion I was making exploded and failed."

Snape raised an eyebrow, his patience thinning. "And I'm supposed to care why?"

The boy, still looking at Snape with a strange intensity, seemed to gather his thoughts. "But now that I'm here... I see it did not fail after all." He glanced up, meeting Snape's eyes—eyes that he had always longed to look into.

Snape narrowed his gaze. "That is well and good, but that does not answer my question. Who are you?"

The boy let out a short laugh before quickly recovering. "Sorry, sir. You can call me Toby. Everyone does."

Toby... The name echoed in Severus's mind. He felt a vague sense of familiarity, but he couldn't place it. "Why did you shout for your mother when you entered my classroom?" Snape asked, his suspicion growing.

Toby took a deep breath, a sudden seriousness overtaking his demeanor as he sat on the edge of a nearby workstation. "For my seventh-year potion project, I'm working on a potion that would allow the drinker to travel through time. When it exploded, I came here to speak with my mother... who is, well, the Potions professor in my time."

Snape's mind raced as he processed the words. A time-travel potion? His skepticism was palpable, but he chose to remain silent for a moment. Slowly, he settled back into his chair, his sharp eyes watching Toby with a new intensity. He was a legilimens himself, after all—he could probe the boy's mind, if he wished.

Severus focused, slipping into the boy's thoughts—but found nothing. A blank void, as if the boy's mind was sealed shut.

He withdrew quickly, impressed despite himself. "Nice try," Toby said, his voice quiet but laced with coldness. "My mind is impenetrable. My parents were natural Legilimens and Occlumens. I inherited their gift."

Snape's lips curled into a rueful smile. "So it would seem." Snape stared at him, his brow furrowing. "What year did you come from?"

"2015," Toby replied simply.

A long pause followed. Then Snape exhaled sharply. "I believe we should take this conversation to the Headmaster."

Without waiting for a response, he rose from his chair, his robes swishing with a sense of finality, and strode toward the door. Toby, still silent, followed him as they made their way through the winding corridors of Hogwarts to Dumbledore's office.

When they entered, the room fell into immediate silence. At the large oak desk sat Albus Dumbledore, Professor McGonagall, and—much to Snape's surprise—Harry Potter, Ron Weasley, and Hermione Granger. Minerva's eyes widened as she looked up, her mouth falling open.

"Hello, Nanna," Toby said casually, his eyes twinkling with mischief.

Dumbledore, with a soft smile, dismissed the trio of students. "Please return tomorrow morning, my dear children."

Ron and Harry hurriedly left the office, but Hermione lingered, her eyes locked on Toby. She seemed caught between fascination and concern. Dumbledore, sensing her distraction, gently gestured toward the door. "Miss Granger, please join your friends."

Reluctantly, Hermione nodded and left. The door shut behind her, and the room settled into an expectant silence.

"Severus who is your young friend?" Dumbledore broke the silence. Severus told the story of all that has occurred since Toby entered his classroom.

Dumbledore, adjusting his spectacles, took a deep breath. "Severus, I think it would be helpful if Toby told us exactly who he is."

Toby glanced around the room before answering. "I'm Toby Snape. Severus Tobias Snape II, actually. I'm... your son." His gaze shifted to Severus, waiting for his reaction.

The words hung in the air like a heavy fog. Snape's face remained unreadable, but his heart skipped in his chest. He stared at the boy—his son. He felt the weight of the revelation like a physical blow. His mind reeled.

Before Snape could say anything, Minerva spoke, her voice a mix of joy and incredulity. "You—you—you're Severus's son?" She turned to Dumbledore, her eyes wide. "Albus, this is incredible!"

Severus's voice was sharp. "My son?" His mind was whirling. "But I'm the last Snape. I am the last of my line."

Toby nodded solemnly. "You were. But once your married my mother and created me, that was no longer true."

Snape's chest tightened at the mention of his mother. "Who was she?"

Toby hesitated for a moment, then smiled slightly, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Nanna you have always said how you never got paid for the bet you and Albus had about who my father would marry. Maybe you could collect that money now." Toby implied knowing that she and Dumbledore would understand who he meant was his mother without telling Severus.

Minerva smiled, her eyes twinkling. "Ah, Albus, pay up"

Dumbledore reached into his robes and pulled out a small pouch of coins, handing it to Minerva as she said, "I always said they'd be perfect together."

Toby gave Minerva a playful wink. "Nanna, you were right."

Severus, still reeling from the news, stood in stunned silence for a moment before Dumbledore spoke again. "Severus, I believe it would be best for Toby to stay with you for the time being. He is already familiar with your quarters, and I'm sure he could even help you with brewing potions."

Severus nodded slowly, his thoughts too tangled to voice a proper objection. "Yes, of course," he muttered, the word almost foreign on his lips. "Let us have dinner, then retire."

As they left the office, Severus cast one final glance at Toby, who looked back at him with a quiet smile. For the first time in his life, Severus felt something stirring deep within—a feeling he couldn't quite define. But there was no mistaking it.

He had a son. And perhaps, for the first time in years, that meant something.