There was a flicker of light at the tip of the boy's wand, and it never wavered. For the past hour, Albus Severus Potter, son of the infamous Harry James Potter, had been practicing his "Lumos" spell as part of his preparation for his incoming Charms test. He and his siblings are currently on their holidays, and after frolicking in the snow all afternoon, his father called them all for dinner and to practice their studies.
"Excellent work, Albus." His father, Harry said, smiling encouragingly at his son, his almond shaped, green eyes sparkling at the light of his son's achievement. "Just keep practicing. You're doing really well."
"Thanks, Dad." Albus said, and he smiled… before opening his mouth to let out a huge yawn.
"Go to sleep." Harry said as he tucked his son in, "We'll continue tomorrow."
Albus nodded sleepily, "Okay. Good night, dad."
Harry bent down and kissed his son, "Good night, Albus." He stood up and held his son's door, peeking at the other side of the room on another bed to see his other son, James, had fallen asleep after reading his copy of "A History of Magic". Not that he'd blame him, but he remembered in his youth that the same book had made him fall asleep in more than one occasion. He entered the room again, this time heading for James' bed. He plucked the book gently from his chest and laid it on his eldest son's nightstand, before tucking him in with his blanket. James muttered and shifted to his side, and Harry resisted to kiss his son in his sleep. James is growing up fast, and with that growth was the repulsion of being kissed by his parent, especially in public.
He smiled again at Albus, who smiled back before settling into his covers, closing his eyes to sleep. He closed the door quietly.
He walked down the hallway, before sneaking at peak at the room of his youngest child and daughter, Lily. She was curled up in her bed, holding a teddy bear that Victoire Weasley had sewn for her. He smiled, and silently closed her door, before heading downstairs.
He went to the kitchen and poured himself a cup of chamomile tea that his wife, Ginny, had made for them, as part of their nighttime ritual. "The kids are asleep." He said, preoccupied with bringing his hot cup to the dining table, "Albus practiced his Lumos Charm again. I think he was having a hard time with it at school… Ginny?"
But his wife merely stood by the window, clutching her bathrobe on her chest, staring at something outside. Harry went to her, "What's wrong?"
Ginny pointed outside, "Someone is standing outside your father's house, Harry. It's been staring at it for hours now. And it looks just like…"
Harry looked outside the window, and sure enough, there was a person in black robes standing outside his old home. The snow made it hard to see, but it seemed that the person knew they were watching. It turned and looked directly at their window. And they both gasped.
The person's hair covered it's face, but the eyes… Harry could never forget those eyes. He had seen those eyes to be once filled with hatred and anger… and love… upon its owner's death.
They were the eyes of his deceased professor.
Harry quickly strode outside, taking his leather coat to warm him, as he walked towards the person. The darkness of the night enveloped the person before him, but he realized now that it wasn't Snape.
"You must be Harry Potter."
The voice from the person was deep… but feminine. Harry sighed out in relief. He thought for a moment that he was staring at his professor's ghost, "Yes. I am. My wife tells me you have been staring at my father's home for hours." He shifted his glasses, "I am a little older now, and this dark is not helping me. Care to come into the light so I can see who you are? There aren't any street lights around, but perhaps we can talk by my house."
The Snape-eyes blinked, "Of course." And they walked towards Harry's front door. As soon as the porch light touched his companion, Harry turned around and looked at her.
The woman had long, dark red hair that almost reached to her waist. She had a heart-shaped face, fair skin, and a slightly hooked nose. Her lips were full and red with lipstick. Her eyes were exactly like Snape's, though it had a certain warmth in them despite of being very dark. She wore a red scarf, and a long, black leather coat, which emitted some sort of warmth.
"So tell me, who are you and why are you staring at my father's house?"
The woman smiled a little, "A lot of people who I've asked told me my eyes were a dead giveaway as to who I am, but apparently, it doesn't." She nodded a bit, "My name is Lillian Severianne Delacroix. And I am… or was… Severus Snape's daughter."