If I Could Have Been There…

Important: This is a response to Attackfish's No Difference. Look it up on or Potions and Snitches!

Though I STRONGLY advise you read it before reading mine, here is the gist of the AU so you won't be completely lost if you start with mine:

Warning: No Difference spoilers: When hit by AK during the final battle, Harry was sent back to 1959, landing in the house of Eileen Prince. Stranded in the past, they live together and begin to form a friendship which eventually leads to more. Harry realizes that Severus should be born around the time he is there, and so is confused by Eileen's hatred of Tobias Snape, a local drunk, who is apparently Snape's father. After sleeping together, Eileen casts a spell to discover she is pregnant with a boy. Harry then realizes why he was sent back in time, and is horrified. Knowing he has to return to the present to defeat Voldemort, and that he cannot alter events other than this, he casts a glamour on the fetus, tells Eileen that if she marries Tobias Snape and names the child Severus, he will "die a hero."

Back in the present, his relationship with Severus (who does not die from Nagini's bite) is shaky at best. The man holds great resentment for Harry who does not seem to see the point of forcing a relationship between them considering their mutual hatred and awkward age gap...

And so begins my story...in which Harry gets the chance to be there for the family he left behind...

I do not own Harry Potter

Please R&R!

Prologue:

This first, italicized section, is taken directly from No Difference by Attackfish, Chapter 27.

"You're mad that I came back," Harry gasped. "You can't stand me, you hate me, but you're still mad I left you there."

Snape regained his calm before Harry could run away with his idea. With a snort, he brought his student back to the present.

"You are a supremely arrogant young man if you think I wanted-"

Harry cut him off deliberately. "No, it doesn't have anything to do with me," he said thoughtfully, "not at all, not really."

"No it doesn't," Snape returned, perturbed.

With a small sad smile, Harry turned to leave Snape to continue on, resigned that he wouldn't get anything out of the man. Something strange pinched at his stomach as he said, "Well, bye then." He'd messed something up.

Perhaps he hadn't messed it up that badly. It was Snape's turn to call him back, "I will not allow you to run away with such an erroneous impression of me, Potter," he called snidely.

Surprised, Harry trotted back. Snape gritted his teeth in a sullen grimace. "No doubt if you had raised me, I wouldn't consider you to be a malicious half-wit." He paused before adding snidely, "Of course, I might have gained your measure anyway."

"I'm sure you were a very clever child," Harry sniped irascibly.

Snape jerked, pulling his hand up sharply as if he wanted to slap him across the face.

"You are so very much like your father, Potter, intelligence is something to admire, Potter, not deride, even if you cannot comprehend it."

"I didn't mean intelligence anyway," he grimaced, pausing to think. Snape probably had been like Hermione, only many times worse, brilliant and knowing it, frustrated that everyone else wasn't brilliant too, and at the same time scornful of everyone who wasn't. Harry bet he let everyone else know he was brilliant too. "It's just that you still treat people like we're all idiots." He shook his head. "Besides, none of this has anything to do with me or my father."

They stopped abruptly at the door to Severus' office. Only then did he realize that his feet had carried him there instead of to Minerva's office as he had planned when he had left the Great Hall. He opened the door and ushered the boy in, bowing and smiling mockingly. Potter strode across the threshold calmly, but his eyes didn't leave Severus' face. He pushed the door shut with a hard push, still watching his student, grabbing one wrist behind his back. "You were saying?"

Harry wanted to ask him if he knew how conversations worked, because it was his turn to reply, not Harry's. Awkwardly, he shrugged his shoulders.

"Well?" snapped Severus, growing more and more annoyed with the boy's persistent crypticness.

"I just mean that you're not angry with me because I'm your dad, or because I didn't raise you," Harry said softly, suddenly nervous.

"No," Snape hissed deliberately, his lip curling. "I'm furious with you for not going away and following me around like a lost puppy!"

"Then why did you call me back?" Harry shot back, hands trembling.

Severus jerked forward and then halted, rattled. "Don't be ridiculous, Potter; I didn't call you back," he denied at last. "I simply refused to let you walk away with such idiotic notions in your head."

Harry snorted, folding his arms. "Of course."

"If you're so sure you know everything about me," he snapped defiantly, "then you can tell me."

Harry looked down guiltily, but then fixed his gaze steadily on Snape's face. "You're mad that I told Eileen to marry Tobias Snape."

"I won't deny that you impressed me with your sheer heartlessness," hissed Snape, his nails digging into his wrist so hard that they left little bloodless half-moon shaped indentations in his flesh when he let go.

Harry's face heated. "I didn't want to…" he stopped speaking, catching his breath. "I didn't like doing it."

"Of course not," Severus sneered, sensing that at last he had the upper hand, "but you did it anyway," which was what mattered, after all.

"I had to!" Harry shouted, the last vestiges of calm draining away. "I... I already knew that I… couldn't stay, and when… I knew who you had to be."

Severus snorted and held back a burst of cold laughter. "You are not soothing my resentments, Potter," he jeered. "You are trying to force me to soothe your guilt!"

"Don't turn this around-" but Severus cut him off.

"You left my mother and me in an untenable situation, because you had to, yes," a smile tugged at his lips as he continued brutally, "but you still were the one to do it."

Harry clutched the edge of Snape's desk, nails biting into the wood. "I don't need you to absolve me of anything!" he roared. "I knew what I was leaving Eileen and you to, but I couldn't do anything else!"

"You're fool if you think you know anything about what-"

It was Harry's turn to cut Snape off with a sharp gesture. "That's right, you think I'm spoiled that I've never had a hard day in my life," he threw his head back and laughed, seething.

"Can you tell me that your every action hasn't borne out that assumption, Potter?"

"You knew my aunt; you knew how much she hated magic; do you really think she spoiled me?" Every time Aunt Marge came to visit, Harry had found himself envying Ripper. Aunt Petunia hadn't liked Ripper any more than she had liked Harry, but she didn't want to antagonize Aunt Marge. "And then she married someone as bad as she is!"

"Did they make you do chores then?" Severus mocked, "treat you like a normal boy?"

"Normal boys don't live in cupboards," Harry pointed out, biting the inside of his cheek until he tasted the metallic tang of his own blood.

A vein in Severus' head throbbed. "Don't exaggerate Potter! You weren't beaten. You never watched someone you loved beaten."

"How would you know?" Harry snapped back furiously. "My uncle used to shake me or drag me places, but he never really hit me. My aunt slapped me or tried to hit me with frying pans, but I could usually dodge her, so no, they didn't beat me, but it wasn't like they stopped Dudley from beating me either." He stopped to catch his breath and glared at Snape, a pair of pink spots sitting like little burns on the top of his cheeks. "And there wasn't anyone I loved to begin with, and they all liked each other just fine."

"So you did know exactly what you were sending me into," Severus whispered darkly, his voice soft with surprise and calculation.

Harry nodded defiantly.

"But that just makes it worse," Severus' lip curled, false sympathy dripping from each word.

[End of No Difference Excerpt]

For a long time, Harry just stood there, letting the truth of Snape's words crash over him. His initial instinct to snipe back at the man, respond acerbically in kind was quashed as something central shifted within him.

Numbly, he spun on his heel and made his way to the office door. Reaching out to it, he said, almost inaudibly, "Well, maybe it wasn't worth it after all."

He looked back at Snape, registering that the man's mouth was moving in a snarl-like motion, but he couldn't make sense of his words. Harry looked at the sallow-faced, messy-haired man who was his son, as crazy as it was, and it hit him that for all his faults, it was his, Harry's, fault he had turned out this way.

"I do wish it hadn't had to be that way, you know."

Snape's scowl became even more pronounced, but Harry was hardly conscious of him any more. It was as if he were talking on a different, separate plane, suddenly seeing things with greater clarity. "I wish I could have been there for you."

No sooner had the words left his lips that a tug in his gut wrenched him forward, away from Snape, the man's expression caught somewhere between a snarl and uncharacteristically open shock, and then everything went black.

Chapter 1

He opened his eyes to find himself no longer in Snape's office. Nor did he seem to be anywhere on or around Hogwarts grounds at all. He was splayed in a twig-strewn, hard-packed sandbox in the middle of a dilapidated playground, with only a slide and an old tire swing appearing to be safe for children's use.

With a jolt, he realized the place was familiar, but how could he have gotten here? He was surprised this park would even still be around, even in as broken-down a condition as it was. But how had he apparated here from the Potions Master's quarters, anyway?

A quiet sniffling noise let him know that he was not alone in the park. Climbing gingerly to his feet, he looked behind him for the source of the noise and noticed the tip of a ratty, soiled, child-sized trainer, poking out from behind a tree.

Ever so slowly, Harry crept forward until he could clearly see the child wearing the shoe. He was tiny-perhaps three years old, with long, matted dark hair that covered his face. Aside from the occasional sniffle, the boy was completely silent, but it was clear from the way his shoulders were shaking that he was crying.

Harry gasped when he looked more closely at those quivering shoulders. They were thin-almost terrifyingly so; bony things poking absurdly from the ill-fitting floral-printed shirt he was wearing. Not just in his shoulders, but the boy looked to be in poor health in general, his arms little sticks wrapped protectively around miniature knobby knees, hands clutching desperately to a graying something made of cloth, stuffed between his knees.

The boy must have heard Harry's sharp intake of breath, for suddenly his little head snapped up and Harry was struck with a gaze more penetrating than should have been possible for a child so young. But the dark eyes were wide and fearful, despite the deep curiosity he could feel directed at him. The fear in them was overpowering, though, and it somehow made Harry indescribably sad that a child with such intelligent, curious eyes would have reason to have such qualities overshadowed by fear.

Not that he was unfamiliar with the reasons a child might feel that way, of course.

The child was still watching him warily, his gaze never leaving Harry's and Harry forced a gentle smile, keeping his eyes on him to see how he would react.

The little eyes narrowed, whether in suspicion or confusion Harry wasn't sure, before he dropped his gaze, hugging his knees tighter and pushing himself further back against the tree.

Harry felt his chest tighten, and swallowing, he said, as softly and gently as possible, "Hey there. Are you okay?"

The boy didn't answer, but just continued to stare at him. He relaxed minutely, however, when Harry didn't rush to make another move.

"I won't hurt you," Harry then said, slowly lifting his hands out to the side and showing them to the boy. "See? I promise you."

Harry saw the flicker of panic that had passed the boy's eyes when he lifted his hands, but then a blank mask slid over those childlike features and Harry's throat closed in sudden, painful recognition. That expressionless face, that pale skin, long, dirty hair and those fathomless dark eyes…they were just all too familiar.

But no. It couldn't be. He-this little boy-couldn't be…could he? The man had been yelling at him in his office just several minutes ago! But then again, it wouldn't be the first time Harry had managed to inadvertently travel through time, would it?

Harry shifted his focus back to the boy. He had never really been able to imagine Severus Snape as a child. Oh, he'd seen the pensieve memories, or course. But a child like this-so young, so scared, so damn innocent. It had never occurred more than peripherally to Harry that Severus had been such a child once.

Whoever he was, the boy was still watching him, but he looked more wary and curious than terrified, now.

Harry noticed that the ratty thing the boy was clutching like a lifeline was, in fact, a stuffed animal. A little (probably once white) deer. It broke his heart to see think about the innocence in this child-in his eyes and his frail little form-not to mention in the symbolism of his little stuffed friend. It also brought up another curious resonance to the child's possible identity, though Harry forced himself not to let his thoughts wander that way until he knew more.

But he suddenly felt an unquenchable desire rise up within him to find out more about this boy, regardless of who he turned out to be. If nothing else, his similarity to how Harry once had been, shy and terrified and friendless, forged a strong sympathy for him in Harry's heart. Keeping his voice as soft and unthreatening as possible, he said, "You've got a beautiful friend, there. Is he a deer?"

The boy's eyes widened comically and he hugged the stuffed animal closer to his chest. Biting his lip, he lifted his eyes to consider Harry again before finally nodding, hesitantly.

"Well I think he's fantastic," Harry continued, taking a step closer as he did so. When the boy didn't flinch, he took another step until he was only about 5 feet from the boy, give-or-take.

Harry noticed the child tensing up once again, and he looked about ready to bolt, much as his little stuffed animal might have done had it been a real wild animal. And at the prospect of the boy running away before he knew more, Harry felt the need to confirm the boy's identity come to a point. He could not have him run away and let hanging the chance that he could truly be who he suspected…

Staring into the scared black eyes, caught between a hopeful wariness and desire to flee, Harry made a split-second decision. Just as the boy began to push himself to his feet, Harry blurted out, "I won't hurt you, Severus," and the boy froze.

Looking back in surprise, he said softly, his little voice scratchy and wispy, as if he didn't use it often, "Y-you know my name?"

Harry struggled to keep himself steady as he let the boy's response wash over him, heard with undeniable clarity how he had not denied who Harry both hoped he was and was not. But he hadn't denied it, and so Harry was faced with the undeniable truth. Regardless of how or why, here he was, crouching before Severus Snape as a child. And then it hit him with such force he was nearly blown away. The little boy sitting before him, shivering in rags, was his son.

Realizing he had yet to answer the boy, Harry swallowed his confusion, smiled gently and said, willing his voice to stay steady, "Yes, I do. I'm a…friend…of your mum's."

The boy looked surprised, and a little disbelieving. But as he stared at Harry, apparently gauging his sincerity, Harry had the strangest urge to laugh as he remembered all the times the adult Severus had looked at him this way, as if he were a potions ingredient to dissect. The boy finally said, somewhat doubtfully, "M-my mummy's?"

Harry couldn't help but smile this time, and he nodded. "That's right. I'm an old friend of your mummy's, Severus…from before you were born." He paused here, inwardly grimacing at how loaded his words truly were.

Severus looked to be working out a puzzle, his little brows furrowed and then, with a leap in perception that shocked Harry to his core, asked, his voice just above a whisper, but his eyes far too wise for his years, "Before daddy?"

Harry forced his jaws shut before nodding, watching Severus closely. "Uh, yeah. That's right."

But the boy just nodded decisively, as if Harry had just confirmed something he'd already understood. "That makes sense. cause…cause mummy's not 'llowed-" he cut off abruptly and clapped a hand over his mouth.

Harry's mind instantly jumped to fill in the blank spots in the boy's admission. Keeping his voice gentle, he pressed, "It's okay, Severus. I won't get mad. Your mummy's not supposed to what?"

Severus nervously looked over his shoulder and Harry just knew his conclusions were right. He decided to help the boy out. "To see people, you mean?"

"Have friends," Severus whispered. "Daddy got mad and…" tears were rolling down his cheeks now, and Harry felt a rush of red-hot anger well up in his chest. Anger directed at Tobias Snape for being an abusive bastard. Anger that this little boy, his son, had to deal with it, anger that Eileen had to deal with it…but no one was he angrier with than himself for indirectly causing all of it.

Harry looked up and noticed Severus was looking scared again, and Harry forced the scowl from his face. "I'm not angry with you, Severus. You didn't do anything wrong. I'm just sad, and mad, that your, uh…dad…" He found himself having to choke the word out, "was so mean to her. He shouldn't have been."

Severus studied him for a while before his shoulders relaxed and he nodded. "Yeah…I don't want him to be mean to mummy anymore…"

"He won't."

Severus blinked at him in confusion.

Harry bit his lip. He had responded without thinking, but once said, he didn't think he would ever take it back. He wasn't sure how he'd ended up here, but now that he was, he found himself faced with the harsh reality that his son, and the mother of his son, were being abused by a drunken bastard that he, Harry, had encouraged Eileen to marry in the first place.

He sneered at himself as he thought about how closely he seemed to have been, in retrospect, emulating the acts he had so resented Dumbledore for orchestrating. Just as the man had left him in a miserable living-situation growing up, leading him through one dangerous adventure to the next throughout his years at Hogwarts, here Harry was, playing God with Severus' life just as Albus had with his.

All for the greater good? Sure. Perhaps. But in the end, was it really worth the sacrifices? At the time, Harry had thought so. But at that time, Severus was still the nasty Potions Professor he knew from school, a man who had already been through the hell of growing up to become the unhappy person he was. A younger Severus had been an abstract concept to Harry, despite what he'd learned about the man's history with his mother from Severus' memories.

But now, he was faced with a very tangible, very alive and very real child. The child he had made that night with Eileen. The child he had forced to take another man's appearance, another man as a father-an abusive man.

Could he let it happen all over again now that he had the proof of just how real this was? No. Not now that he had seen his son in the thick of it. He had landed himself in a time when Severus and Eileen were probably being abused on a day-to-day basis, and suddenly, a violent surge of protectiveness welling up within him, he vowed that somehow he would make things right, if that were even at all possible any longer.

He didn't care if Eileen hated him. He would not allow this abuse to continue. He had sat by for too long, but he could not bear the thought of those black eyes, still so full of innocence for all of their much-too-wise, wary sadness, to lose their spark and devolve into the bottomless pits of the Potions Master. Not this time.

"Sir?" The timid voice asked, and Harry felt the strangest desire to both cry and laugh at being addressed so by Severus.

He managed with just a sad smile, though, and then, unable to help himself, gently reached out and brushed the soft, pale cheek. Severus flinched initially when he saw the hand moving towards him, but then relaxed when he realized this strange man didn't seem to mean him any harm. He leaned into the comforting touch, thinking about how it was gentle and nice like mummy's though slightly different, too. It was funny. He only ever liked mummy's touches, but this messy-haired man with the pretty green eyes seemed to be another exception.

Severus leaned into the touch, and Harry felt his heart clench at the sight and the knowledge that he was touching his son, his own baby boy. "You don't have to call me sir, Severus," he said. "I'm Harry. You're welcome to call me that, alright?"

"Uh, okay, Harry."

Suddenly, Severus' eyes widened, and he jumped up. "Oh no! Mummy! I left her and…and…"

"Severus! It's alright! What is it? Can you tell me?" Worried by the panicked look on the young face, Harry leaned forward, both hands on the boy's thin shoulders, but the boy struggled under him. "You can tell me. Is it Tobias?" Harry's voice had a hard, steely edge to it, and Severus flinched again under his grip. Gritting his teeth, Harry said, "Don't worry, Sev. I won't let him hurt you."

The way those dark eyes looked up at him with such hope nearly broke his heart, but then the boy broke the gaze and shuffled his feet.

Severus wanted so much to trust the nice man, but daddy always said he was worthless and that no one would ever help him, and that he would hurt mummy even more if he ever tattled. Severus's heart quickened in panic. Oh no! He'd already done just that, hadn't he? He'd told the Harry-man that Daddy hurt Mummy and now…and now…

Harry noticed when Severus started to shake like a leaf. The fear in his eyes was too much, and unable to stop himself, Harry knelt down and pulled the boy to him in a gentle but firm embrace. Severus tensed against him at first but then, after what seemed an eternity, he finally relaxed in his hold, and even leaned into Harry as he tightened his arms around the boy.

"It's okay, Severus. It's going to be okay."

Severus shook his head into the crux of his neck and Harry felt the warm wetness, leaking from the boy's eyes, on his shirt. He mumbled something.

"What did you say?"

Severus was sobbing now, but managed in a stilted whisper, "Can't tell…no…don't hurt…m-mummy…"

It was enough for Harry to get the gist of what was wrong, and he pulled the boy the rest of the way onto his lap, moving one hand into the long dark hair as he began to whisper comforting, and nonsensical, words to the boy. "I won't let him hurt your mummy, Sev. I won't let him hurt her again. Or you, for that matter," he vowed fiercely, and then the skinny arms were around his neck in a stranglehold, and Harry found himself finally truly understanding some of what it meant to be a father.

Not letting go of his precious bundle, he stood, and, Severus' arms still wrapped around his neck, he set off towards the old house on Spinner's End.

Let me know what you think! I hope my a/n explanation helped enough so you aren't totally lost.

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Thanks!

tess4aria