Harry was lying flat on his bed, still awake. He’d heard Snape… his father? No! He’d heard Snape retreat back to his own room or his office some time ago, but he couldn’t get back to sleep himself.

He was trying to either not think about Snape’s confession or concentrate on it fully, but he couldn’t do either one. He wasn’t able to keep his thoughts away from the topic fully… so he tried to analyze it, but his mind would drift and he couldn’t make his mind any clearer.

He was greatly frustrated by the lack of control he had over his thoughts at the moment and as time went by he was beginning to really hat how the pot was making him feel. It was fine at first, even a little fun and freeing, but now his whole body was numb and he kept feeling as if he was just sitting in the back of his own mind… like he didn’t really exist. Every time the feeling of not being real became too much, he would shake his head to bring himself back to the present and be certain that he was real.

“How much longer does this stuff last?” He muttered almost tearfully. It was beginning to drive him insane.

When shaking his head began to lose it’s effectiveness, Harry tried to pinch hi skin, but he could just barely even feel it. He needed something else to make sure he didn’t just fade into existence. He wished his scar were still hurting so he could have that to concentrate on.

An idea came to him. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he knew it was a screwed up idea, but desperate times really called for desperate measures and that made it okay in his mind.

Harry got out of bed and opened his school trunk, which was still mostly full. He grabbed a quill set and dumped it on the floor. A blade that was used for the sharpening of broken or dull quills was at the top of the pile.

Picking it up, he was momentarily mesmerized by the light reflected off the metal. Harry held the blade over his left arm. He pressed the sharp end against the soft skin on the inside of his arm, not hard enough to draw blood but enough to make a dent. Then he took a deep breath and swiped quickly, pushing deeper as the blade moved. It had barely stung, but it was enough to keep his mind in place.

The blood took a second to well up, but then it trickled over and a small crimson stream ran from his arm to his wrist and dripped slowly onto the floor. It was fascinating to watch, but when Harry felt himself begin to fade once more, he panicked and swiped the blade again. As a precaution, Harry repeated the process twice more and stared in awe at the red river he’d created.

When the blood flow began to slow down, Harry lost interest in staring at it. He grabbed a spare towel from the bathroom, careful not to drip on the way there. Then he cleaned the floor and put the blade away. The last thing he cleaned was his arm. Some of the blood had begun to dry and it almost amused him how it flaked off like paint.

With everything finally cleaned up, Harry finally felt like he could fall asleep. The nightmare that started it all was long forgotten and dreams were no longer feared.

----

Morning came much too soon in Harry’s opinion. He wanted to curse the sun for even daring to shine when he’d only gotten a few hours of real sleep. Then Harry remembered why he’d gotten so little sleep and everything that had happened.

He’d smoked pot.

He was caught.

Snape said he was Harry’s father.

Harry’d cut himself.

“Oh no, oh no, oh… crap.” Harry brought his arm up to look at the damage. What had he been thinking? This was crazy people stuff! Was he crazy?

“No… I’m not crazy. It was a one time thing… and the pot… oh God. They should really tell kids why they shouldn’t do drugs… like in school or something.” Harry wanted to cry, he was so full of regret. He buried his face in his arms and gagged at the smell of his own body. He smelled of marijuana and sweat. Gross.

Wanting to delay his confrontation with Snape and also feeling the need to be clean, Harry decided a shower would come before anything else.

----

Severus sat at the dining table and waited for Harry. He’d heard the shower head turn on so he new it wouldn’t be much longer until the boy came downstairs.

After last night, they had a lot to talk about and all of it was big. Severus didn’t know which topic he should start with.

The truth about Harry’s parentage was the most important to him, but he didn’t want to go from explaining it all straight to lecturing Harry about drugs and then doling out a punishment. But he couldn’t just forget about it either. It would be bad parenting. He decided he would let Harry dictate the order of the conversation.

After about fifteen minutes of internal arguments, he finally saw Harry enter with his hair still wet and sticking up all over the place. He sat silently in the seat next to Severus with his eyes staring down at a small imperfection in the wood of the table. Severus took note of the long sleeved shirt that Harry chose to wear on such a hot day.

“Are you feeling ill?” he asked, Harry’s health his first priority.

“No… just feeling awkward.”

Severus nodded, thinking that covering up with clothing might be a defense mechanism that they both shared.

“We have some things to discuss this morning. Each of them is important. Which would you like to start with?”

“Um… The, you know… I was really dumb to do that, I know. The pot was… ugh…” Harry sputtered, glaring now at the knot in the wood.

“No, you were not dumb, but you certainly did act like it. Maybe you could tell me about how you acquired the drugs and why.”

Harry looked up with a surprised face like he’d been expecting World War III and not a civil conversation.

“I took them from Dudley’s room. I don’t know why… probably just some way of secretly getting back at him a little bit. And I kept them… just in case.” Harry shrugged. “I knew they were supposed to dull pain a bit and that I would never get anything if I was hurt unless it was something that couldn’t be hidden. It wasn’t like I wanted to be like Dudley and smoke pot all the time.”

“I believe you. You don’t seem like a person who would regularly take part in recreational drugs. That is why I was so surprised to find you in that state last night. But what prompted you to use it last night, Harry?”

“I told you already.”

“Yes, but you weren’t exactly making sense. I gathered that you had a dream…” Severus trailed off and waited for Harry to continue.

“It was… there was this old man and a snake… but I was the snake, I think? And this old house and Peter Pettigrew was there and he was talking to this ugly looking thing… called him master… maybe it was Voldemort. But then they killed the man. The green light just like the one I see when the dementors get close…”

“Harry, this sounds like you just had a nightmare and it’s no wonder after everything you’ve been through these past years.”

“But my scar hurt when I woke up.”

That startled Severus and he remembered that Harry had mentioned his scar the night before but he hadn’t thought much of it at the time. He would need to inform Albus, but Harry needn’t worry yet.

“If your scar begins to hurt again, inform me… no matter what time it is.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Good. Now… you do know that doing drugs is wrong, yes?”

“Yeah… But I’m not really sure why. They make Dudley nicer. It made my scar stop hurting and the dream not so frightening. It actually felt good for a while. I hated it at the end and didn’t like how long it lasted though, so I don’t get it… why people do them for fun so much.”

“Well… drugs will affect everyone differently. I, for one, am glad that you don’t ‘get it’. As for why drugs are bad… each drug is different. Marijuana can impair your judgment, slow your reflexes… some drugs are quite dangerous and will kill easily. Your biggest concern would be that you couldn’t have defended yourself very well last night if you needed to. Your reaction time was considerably slower from what I saw and you weren’t too smart going out on the lake like that.” Severus sighed and leaned forward. “What if you had fallen in the water? Would you have been thinking clearly enough to figure out which way was up and then get yourself out of there?”

“I don’t know how to swim at all… So no.” Harry cringed.

“You could have died! You almost did fall in when I startled you last night.”

“I’m sorry, okay. I know… it was really stupid.”

“You do know also that you will have to be punished?”

Harry nodded.

“I received an owl from Arthur Weasley. You also received one from your friend, Ron Weasley.” Severus handed Harry his letter, but Harry made no move to open it.

“How did they know to send it here?”

“I imagine either the headmaster informed them or Arthur knows because word gets around at the ministry. They wrote to invite you to accompany them to the World Quidditch Tournament.”

Harry’s face lit up and he almost began to bounce in his seat.

“What? Really?”

“Yes, really.” Severus mocked. He didn’t smile and his serious face got through to Harry and the smile faded from the boy’s face.

“I don’t think you should go. You shouldn’t be receiving such a reward after what transpired last night.”

He watched Harry for a reaction. He could see that Harry wanted to protest, but knew that he deserved this punishment.

“There’s nothing else I could do? I could do chores all day every day until we go back to school… and stay locked in my room when I’m not working. Or maybe I could-”

“Harry, punishments are supposed to be punishments. Do you really think you should be able to go to the Quidditch Tournament after last night?”

“No.”

“Then it’s settled. Would you like to write back to the Weasleys or should I?”

“I’ll do it.”

“Good. You may do that later. Right now we have other matters to discuss. Last night, what I said-”

“Is it true? Are you my… are we… you know?” Harry asked. Severus nodded.

“Yes. I am… your father. It’s true.”

Harry scowled slightly at how Snape had phrased it. He felt like Luke Skywalker at that moment.

“So you and my mum…?”

“No, not Lily. She’s not your mother.”

Harry stood from his seat. He needed to move around, get away, and there was no place to go. He didn’t want to hear this, but he knew he needed to. It just didn’t make sense.

“But… No, this can’t be true. I look just like James Potter. Everybody tells me so! And I have my mum’s eyes! LOOK AT ME! You aren’t here at all!” Harry knew he was beginning to sound hysterical, but Snape was the crazy one making things up because he missed his family.

“Stop! Harry, just calm down. It is true and I will explain everything.”

Harry just shook his head, denying everything. He wasn’t sure when Snape had stood up and approached him, but he pushed away at the hands that tried to gently guide him to the couch in the living room.

“Just please sit down.” Snape sounded tired… or emotionally weary. Harry nodded, feeling slightly guilty and he obeyed. He heard Snape ‘Accio’ something and then there was a dip in the cushions next to him as Snape sat down.

“This is a picture of Lily, James, Marguerite and I.”

Harry looked over. Snape was holding a photo album for Harry to look at. His eyes were drawn to the picture Snape was pointing at where he saw James and a lady standing together. He gasped slightly.

“That woman… she looks just like-”

“That is Marguerite. She’s your mother. She’s James Potter’s fraternal twin. Part of the reason you look so much like James is because you actually look a lot like your mother.”

“But my eyes. Neither of you have green eyes. That puts a big hole in your story.”

“I did say Marguerite being James’s twin was part of the reason for your looks. There are also a number of spells over you, hiding your true appearance… hiding any traits you may have inherited from me. Your eyes are only the product of a well done glamour charm.”

Harry flinched at the tone that Snape used, the one that he most often used in school when a student answered a question incorrectly.

“I don’t even… my parents aren’t my parents… my face isn’t even my own face. I don’t even know what I look like.” Harry brought his hands up to feel his face, the face he’d known all his life. “But how- I mean why did- the story! You told me a story when I was sick. And it was true, wasn’t it?” Harry felt slightly dizzy as he was flooded with realization. He didn’t even hear Snape’s answer.

“I was kidnapped. Oh my God… I’m like those kids on the telly that they make movies about. Why is it always me? Why can’t I go one year without some earth shattering revelation about my life coming into the open? Why can’t I just be a normal kid? Who am I? My life has been turned on me so many times, I don’t know anymore! WHO AM I?” His yelling left him breathless and his chest felt tight. He tried to catch his breath, but the tightness made it impossible to expand his lungs and he could only take small rapid breaths that gave him no oxygen.

Oh God… he was going to die. He couldn’t breathe and he was going to die after he’d faced death and lived so many different times. He thought he could hear Snape telling him something, but the words were muffled and he couldn’t understand.

Harry was vaguely aware of something touching his lips and sliding down his throat as he tried to breathe. His vision was just beginning to fade when he finally found how to make his lungs work. The new oxygen made his head feel floaty, but at least he could hear again and he focused on Snape’s voice.

“Harry? Are you alright now?”

Harry nodded and looked at Snape who was now kneeling in front of him, holding a glass phial.

“Calming Draught,” Snape explained as he reached a hand to Harry’s face. Harry flinched back and then noticed then that his face was wet. Had he been crying?

He wiped his own tears away, roughly.

“Sorry,” Harry croaked, embarrassed.

“Don’t be. I know this is a shock to you. It was for me.”

“When was that? How long have you known and not told me?” Harry turned an accusing glare at Snape.

“I found out a week before I took you from the Dursleys.” Snape held up a hand to keep Harry from speaking. “I didn’t want to tell you because I knew you would reject the facts and reject me. I was planning on informing you soon. I wanted to know that I wouldn’t lose you again.”

Harry opened his mouth to reply and shut it again. He hadn’t even bothered to think of how Snape felt. This man had lost his family and grieved for them… and then found out that he had grieved over one of them erroneously. To have missed out on your child’s life for so long.

“So… if my d- if James have never… never taken me?

“You would have been raised here. You would have been loved and taken care of.”

The last sentence triggered an odd feeling for Harry and a lump formed in his throat. He’d never felt loved by anyone before. He was sure that Lily and James had loved him, his scar was proof of that, but it wasn’t a feeling he could remember. As his breathing hitched, Snape spoke.

“Harry, you are loved. Surely you know that?”

Harry just shook his head, afraid that speaking would break the dam and he would start crying again.

“Harry…” It sounded as if the older man was as close to tears as he was and suddenly arms were around Harry and he was pulled into a warm embrace, his face buried in the black robes that smelled like aftershave and cinnamon. In any other state of mind, Harry might have laughed at the mugglish-ness of the smell, but not now. The comfort of the embrace gave Harry the security to let go and he couldn’t stop once he began to cry.

“How? How can I be? The Dursleys never have and you can’t just decide that you love me. You’ve only known me this summer.”

“When a child is born, do their parents not love the baby immediately? I do love you.”

“If you do, it’s only because I’m your… I’m your son. Not because you actually love who I am.” Even though he denied the proclaimed love, Harry could not pull away from the warmth and comfort of Snape’s arms.

“If I had not been blinded by my own bitterness and jealousy, I would have seen who you are and I would have let myself love the boy I’d thought to be my nephew. It’s my own fault that I never got to know you. Finding out that you are mine did have influence on me, I will admit, but I didn’t know who you were. I loved you but I did not think I would like you. Now I know how wrong I was. You, Harry, are a selfless, kind, caring boy and I love who you are.” The arms tightened and Harry wrapped his arms around Snape’s torso and held just as tightly until his tears stopped and his breathing was left shuddering and hiccupping.

“I need…”Harry swallowed and pulled away so he could face the man who was his father. “I need to know more. Please tell me everything.”

Severus looked at the boy in front of his eyes and knew what he needed.

“I had been friends with Lily Evans since before I can remember. We lived in the same neighborhood. My father was a muggle… and I lived with him for most of my childhood. While on the train to Hogwarts our first year, Lily befriended Marguerite Potter and I was introduced also. I met James Potter and his friends that day too. Already popular with many of the children, having grown up as purebloods and being in home-school groups with many of them. At the sorting, James and Lily went to Gryffindor while Marguerite and I went to Slytherin. Yes, you are the Gryffindor son of two Slytherins.” Severus paused to smile fondly at Harry.

“Being housed with Marguerite, we did become good friends… better because of Lily encouraging us to group together for projects and study groups. By our sixth year, we were steadily dating and James disapproved. During summer holiday, he sent me an owl in her handwriting to break up with me. By this time, I was not living with my father anymore and I was surrounded by peers who did not have the best influence on me. They became my support when my heart was broken and I was distraught enough to be taken in by them. It was through their influence that I became a Death eater.

“When school was back in session, Marguerite was upset that I had not written her at all… and when she found out what James had done, she was livid. But when I told her what I had done, it broke her heart… but she still loved me. I regretted my decision and I went to the headmaster. He helped me and I became a spy for the side of the light.

“Marguerite and I continued our relationship in secret. I never wanted to risk her life by letting the Dark Lord know I was involved with her. After school ended, Marguerite inherited Salazar’s Sanctuary while James received the property in Godric’s Hollow. I continued my education under an apprenticeship. I quickly received my mastery since I had gotten my medi-wizardry license while I was still at Hogwarts. After I received my mastery, I proposed to Marguerite and we married in secret with only James, Lily, and Albus Dumbledore as witnesses.

“When Marguerite became pregnant, we thought it was safest for her to move in with James and Lily since I was away so often. It was sent away toward the end of the pregnancy. When I returned home… you were both gone. Well, she was and I thought you were.” Severus sighed, remembering how he felt as he was told of his family’s deaths while he stared at Lily and the baby she held.

Harry was now leaning against the arm of the couch with a pillow clutched in a tight hug. He looked up at Severus with a curious glint in his eyes.

“When I first came here, you said that your wife was descended from Slytherin. So… I am the heir of Slytherin?”

“The Potter family line is descended from both Gryffindor and Slytherin. One of Slytherin’s granddaughters married a Gryffindor. The families had been enemies since Salazar left Hogwarts and when this romance was found out, the girl was cast out of the family and left with nothing but this bit of property… which may seem quite opulent, but it’s nothing compared to what the Slytherin family had at the time. This is why you can open the chamber of secrets, but you are not the heir of Slytherin. The heir can only be from part of the line that would still be acknowledged by Salazar. You are, however, the heir of Gryffindor… the headmaster did tell me how you pulled the sword of Gryffindor from the hat”

“I’m the heir of… wait, so I didn’t get the Parseltongue from Voldemort?”

“We had thought it was from him since James never did possess that ability, but now that we know your true lineage… you most likely inherited that gift from your mother.”

Harry nodded, seeming satisfied with that answer and a bit relieved.

“What happens now?”

“Well, that could be up to you. If you’d like, we can work on getting the spells off of you that are hiding your true appearance. The truth would come out in public eventually if you do.”

Harry nodded.

“Yes… I want that. I don’t like not knowing what I look like. I’ve spent too much of my life not knowing anything about myself. But what I meant was, what happens with us? Are you going to be like my dad now? I know… I know you’re my father, but that doesn’t really-”

“Harry, stop. Yes, I’m your father… yes, I’m your dad. I don’t expect you to start calling me that after it has all come as such a shock to you. But yes… I am your dad.”