1996

Harry was waiting impatiently for Dumbledore’s staircase to complete its upward spiral toward the Headmaster’s office. He had received an owl during dinner from the Headmaster, requesting Harry’s presence ‘post haste’ in the old man’s loopy scrawl.

“What do you suppose he wants?” Hermione had asked to which Harry had shrugged. Harry had long given up trying to figure the Headmaster out. To Harry’s thinking, Dumbledore was equally likely to present him with the recipe for lemon drops, as he was to give Harry a complicated reason for offing Voldemort by sundown the next day.

Ron had guffawed loudly when Harry had said as much, while Hermione favored them both with a disparaging look. Harry smiled at the memory of Ron responding by making a face at Hermione while she scooped up a second helping of treacle tart.

Dumbledore’s staircase finally stopped spinning and Harry knocked lightly on the Headmaster’s large door. The door swung open for him and Harry stepped gingerly over the threshold.

“Harry, my boy, do come in.” The headmaster smiled and waved Harry forward. Harry smiled back at the Headmaster hesitantly, as he remembered the wild fit he’d had in Dumbledore’s office at the end of last term; his face heated in embarrassment.

Dumbledore smiled kindly at him. “The past is past, Harry. Please make yourself comfortable.” Harry wondered, as he often did, at the Headmaster’s ability to jump right to where Harry’s mind was. He didn’t ponder it long though as he was eager to get on with whatever the man was going to say.

“Thank you, sir,” Harry said politely and chose one of the plush chairs in front of Dumbledore’s desk.

“Shall we get straight to business, then Harry, as I know you are eager to return to your friends?” The old wizard’s eyes were twinkling merrily at Harry’s sheepish look. Dumbledore nodded briskly and continued, “Our new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, Professor Sundry,” Harry nodded. He’d had class with the slightly maniacal-faced witch only this morning.

“She has been called back home, I’m afraid, Harry. As our luck would have it, however, I’ve found a replacement. I’ve received his answer in the affirmative just this very hour.” Dumbledore smiled at Harry’s confusion. Why would the Headmaster ask Harry to his office to tell him about a new teacher?

“I don’t understand, sir”

“Of course not, Harry. How could you, when I haven’t explained?” The old blue eyes danced behind the Headmaster’s half-moon spectacles and Harry bit the inside of his cheek in annoyance. Couldn’t the man just talk without all the riddles?

“Perhaps, you will understand in a minute. If you’ll turn your attention to the Floo, Harry,” Dumbledore requested and Harry turned toward the old fireplace, still perfectly befuddled.

Harry was about to ask what exactly the Headmaster was doing when the Floo roared to life and the telltale green flames rose up. A moment later, Harry gaped at the man who stepped out.

“Remus?” he asked incredulously and without another word, Harry threw himself at his friend and Remus immediately had the boy in a tight hug.

“It’s good to see you, Harry,” Remus told him quietly as the werewolf squeezed warmly and then pulled away slightly to look at Prongs’ son.

“You’re going to teach here? But, I thought the parents wouldn’t like it,” Harry blurted thoughtlessly before he could stop himself.

“We’re at war, Harry. Things change,” Remus told him simply and though Harry really didn’t understand how much things were changed by war, he nodded anyway.

“Professor Lupin,” Dumbledore said warmly and Remus smiled at him. “Welcome back.”

“Thank you, Headmaster,” Lupin acknowledged.

“Won’t you sit down? You too, my boy,” Dumbledore gestured to the two chairs in front of him and after a light squeeze to his shoulder from Remus, Harry sat down again.

Dumbledore surveyed both of them for a minute before saying conversationally, “I had a meeting with Professor Snape earlier this evening.”

Harry’s stiffened at the mention of Snape. Remus noticed the sudden movement and wondered over it as he watched Harry swallow convulsively before turning his gaze back to Dumbledore with questioning eyes. Dumbledore however didn’t appear to notice Harry’s discomfort. He continued right on, “I believe it might be wise, Harry for the two of you to resume Occlumency.”

“No,” Harry said quietly, looking straight into the Headmaster’s eyes.

“Harry!” Remus scolded, quite surprised by the young man’s defiance. Harry turned to Remus briefly with a calculating look in his eye and then turned back to Dumbledore with a frown.

“Is that why you asked Remus back, then? You needed someone to look out for me in case Voldemort makes me go barmy again?” Harry asked bitterly.

Dumbledore didn’t appear at all perturbed by Harry’s disrespect. In contrast, Remus was gazing at his young friend reproachfully.

“Harry,” Remus began but Dumbledore held up a quieting hand.

“It’s quite all right, Remus,” he said without taking his eyes off of Harry. “Harry,” he continued, “I know you and Professor Snape had some difficulties last year-”

“Difficulties?” Harry interrupted, incensed. “Snape hates me. Not to mention, the man can’t teach Occlumency worth shite!” Harry folded his arms jerkily over his chest. He knew Remus was staring at him; the werewolf’s mouth was twisted in a firm frown of disapproval. And though Harry felt a twinge of guilt for speaking so rudely to the Headmaster, he couldn’t bring himself to care enough to apologize.

“Professor Snape, has agreed to try again. I would appreciate it if you would do the same, Harry” Dumbledore continued as though Harry had not interrupted, although his voice had taken on an unfamiliar hard edge.

Harry kept his eyes down, staring resolutely at his knees. He couldn’t agree to this. It would take Snape only about five seconds to pull out Harry’s memory of his time in the Pensieve and Harry wasn’t going to let that happen. He wasn’t going to be rejected again. He just wasn’t.

Harry drew in a deep, calming breath and looked up again, this time looking Dumbledore straight in the eye. “Professor, I’ll try to learn Occlumency.” Dumbledore smiled, but Harry wasn’t done. “But not with Snape,” he finished defiantly.

“Harry, that’s enough.” Remus by this time was standing and glaring at Harry. Harry met Remus’ eye and then promptly looked down again, startled by the ire in the other man’s gaze. “You’ll do as Professor Dumbledore asks. What has gotten into you?”

Harry didn’t know think Remus was actually expecting an answer so he didn’t respond. He also didn’t look up again at his old friend, not wanting to see the disappointment he hadn’t seen since his unauthorized trip to Hogsmeade third year.

“Harry,” Dumbledore’s voice was gentle and Harry bit his lip. He didn’t particularly enjoy upsetting the Headmaster but what could he do? Occlumency with Snape had ‘disaster’ written all over it. “I’m afraid, my boy, that I’m not giving you a choice. Professor Snape is expecting you at seven o’clock tomorrow evening.”

Harry made his decision then and he stood up slowly to face the Headmaster. He realized he would probably regret it but he did it anyways. “You’d better tell him not to be then, because I’m not going anyway near Snape tomorrow night.” Harry delivered his words quietly and without waiting for a response from either of his Professors, he turned and walked out of the office, leaving two very shocked wizards in his wake.

----------------------------------------------

Harry stormed his way up the enchanted staircases and snapped “Insidiae,” at the Fat Lady who looked affronted but let him in anyway. Harry stomped over to his favorite chair by the fireplace and flopped into it with a huff. Ron, who was occupying the other chair looked up in concern at his friend.

“What happened?”

“Dumbledore wants me to take Occlumency again with Snape!” Harry fumed, outraged by the entire situation. Why did the overgrown bat have to be his father? The idea of Occlumency with the Potions Master was bad enough already without having to worry about the man finding out that Harry knew his secret.

Ron was looking at Harry sympathetically. “Bad luck, mate. But, it can’t be as bad as last year, yeah?”

“Are you mad, Ron? I can’t let Snape read my thoughts!” Harry stared at his ginger-haired friend as though Ron had grown another set of ears and after a moment’s confusion Ron finally nodded slowly in understanding.

“Right, Harry. Sorry.” Harry groaned and closed his eyes, leaning his head as far into the cushion as was possible. He knew Ron was probably staring at him but he didn’t care. “What are you going to do?” Ron asked after awhile and Harry smirked a bit.

“I told Dumbledore no.”

Harry cracked an eye open and smiled fully as he watched Ron staring at him. “You told Dumbledore no? Just like that?” Ron asked, awestruck.

Harry shrugged. “Yeah,” a pause and then he added casually, “Oh, and Remus is back to teach D.A.D.A. this year.” Harry smiled at his friend’s whoop of joy, before closing his eyes again.

Harry’s plans were quickly changed the next evening after dinner when McGonagall entered the Gryffindor common room, a sour look on her face. All the students looked up at their Head of House in surprise; she didn’t often come into the tower. McGonagall surveyed the room briefly before her eyes fell on Harry.

“Potter, come with me.” Harry looked at her in some surprise, having no idea what his professor could want with him.

“Ma’am?” he questioned as he stood up slowly.

“Now, Potter. I don’t have all night and the Headmaster’s waiting,” McGonagall said impatiently. Harry’s insides clenched painfully. That sneaky bastard, he thought bitterly though he did have to give credit to the man. Dumbledore knew Harry wouldn’t dare defy McGonagall.

With a defeated sigh, he followed McGonagall out the portrait hole and down the stairs, which, Harry noticed stayed quite still for the Professor. Neither Harry nor his teacher said a word to one another as they made their way to Dumbledore’s office. Harry was scrambling to figure out what he was going to say to Dumbledore.

What could Harry possibly say to make the man see he couldn’t do what Dumbledore was asking? Harry had almost decided that honesty might be the only way, no matter how wretched the prospect was, when they reached the Gargoyle guarding the Headmaster’s office.

“Peppermint Pizzazz,” McGonagall said sharply to the Gargoyle and the two of them were spinning upward toward the Headmaster’s office. At the door, McGonagall rapped twice before the door swung open.

Harry couldn’t help it. He laughed at the sight that awaited them. Dumbledore, Snape and Remus were standing in front of the Headmaster’s desk, apparently waiting for them.

Snape’s lip curled at the sound of Harry’s laughter. “You believe your defiance a joke, do you, Potter?” he spat out caustically and Harry smiled at him.

“Apparently it’s no joke if it takes four of you to get me here,” Harry told him flippantly. McGonagall snapped around to look at him, her mouth set in a thin line.

“That will be quite enough of your cheek, Mr. Potter, or we will conclude this meeting with a detention.” Harry colored slightly at her admonishment.

“Yes, ma’am,” Harry said quietly, even though he was seething inside at Snape’s sanctimonious expression. McGonagall nodded at Harry in approval before turning back around to face the Headmaster.

Dumbledore cleared his throat before saying to Harry, “Thank you for coming, my boy. Professor Snape has agreed,” a mutter from Snape proved otherwise but Dumbledore continued easily, “to allow Professor Lupin to sit in on your lessons if it will make you more comfortable.”

Three of the adults watched Harry expectantly, while Snape glared at the boy as if daring him to admit he was so weak as to be uncomfortable in Snape’s presence. Harry glared right back at the Potions Master and gritted his teeth.

“I’m not uncomfortable,” he stated firmly.

Dumbledore looked at him in gentle confusion. “Can you tell us, then, Harry, why you do not wish to continue with your Occlumency lessons, when it is most imperative that you do so?”

Harry stuffed his fists into his pockets, in a vain attempt at nonchalance. It was obvious that nothing short of the truth was going to help him here, though he was beginning to wonder if even the fact that Harry knew everything the Headmaster and Snape had been so obviously hiding would be enough to deter either of them.

Probably at least Snape, Harry mused. After all, the man would be mortified, wouldn’t he to learn that Harry knew the truth? Most likely, Snape would be the uncomfortable party, as it seemed he’d done everything he could to ensure that Harry never found out the truth.

And with every part of him vibrating with vindictive relish, Harry smiled at Snape.

-----------------------------------------------

Snape narrowed his eyes in suspicion at the sudden shift in Potter’s mood. What was the boy up to, he wondered silently.

“Sure,” Potter said in what Severus recognized as a calculating tone, though it seemed Potter was trying to sound self-assured. The attempted bravado, so like the brat’s father. Severus couldn’t believe he had once found himself feeling anything less than hatred for James Potter. Severus Occluded his mind against thoughts of the traitorous Gryffindor and waited impatiently for his brat to continue.

When Potter just continued to stare stupidly at him, Severus growled, “Well, Potter? Even you come up with a better explanation that ‘sure’.” Potter’s raised a brow at Severus and Severus raised a mocking one in return. Would the idiotic Gryffindor never get on with it?

“No, I meant sure, go ahead, yell ‘Legilimens’ and let’s get this over with.”

Severus examined Potter with acute suspicion, though he made sure to cover his surprise. Occlumency lessons last year were always an exercise in humiliation for Potter, due to the boy’s predictable lack of any natural talent in the area. It was doubtful, Severus was sure that the boy wanted his other three Professors to witness his embarrassment.

Minerva and Lupin were looking at Harry in concern, while Albus, the old fool, was looking quite pleased by Potter’s sudden change of heart. Well, decided Severus with a malicious sneer, if Potter was stupid enough to ask, then Severus would certainly deliver.

In one smooth motion, Severus had his wand out, waved it in a meticulous motion and said calmly, “Legilimens”.

----------------------------

Harry realized the flaw in his plan too late. The memory wouldn’t embarrass the Potions Master as Snape would be the only one to see it inside Harry’s mind and of course, Snape wouldn’t share what he’d seen with the others in the room. In a moment of wild panic, Harry yelled, “Wait!” but Snape was already chanting the spell.

Harry stumbled back with the force of Snape’s mental intrusion and he tried to force his thoughts away from the Pensieve memory but all that meant was that Harry was thinking about the memory even harder and within a minute, the events from the Pensieve filled his mind for Snape to see.

His mother caressing baby Harry’s face. James’ hesitation as he spoke to Lily. Snape bursting into the room and cradling little Harry in his arms.

“We would like Harry’s middle name to be James…after you.”

“No!” Harry was shouting but he needn’t have bothered. Snape had broken off contact with Harry’s mind abruptly, and Harry was flung backward onto Dumbledore’s floor with the force of it.

Snape glared at Harry as he towered over the boy, Snape’s breathing much heavier than normal. He sneered, as Remus knelt beside Harry, touching the boy lightly on the shoulder.

“Harry? Are you all right?” Remus asked gently but Harry couldn’t answer him. He was waiting with his breath drawn as he watched Snape’s livid features. What would the man do? Would Snape deny the truth right to Harry’s face? Harry’s insides turned to ice as something in Snape’s face twisted and it almost looked like the man would smile.

Instead, Snape sneered down at Harry and said coldly, “So, Potter. You hoped your little trick would wound me in some way? Maybe you wished to embarrass me?” Snape paused as he watched Harry’s face contort through several emotions before continuing, the vindictive glee in his voice quite clear to all. “Fortunately for both of us, Potter, your little memory was nothing but a lie.”

Harry couldn’t believe it.

Harry struggled up from the floor, with Remus keeping a steadying hand on his arm. “You’re the one who’s lying!” Harry spat as he faced Snape.

Snape regarded him with raised eyebrows. “Am I?”

Without a word, Snape reached out suddenly and grabbed Harry’s chin in his calloused hand, yanking the boy’s face up toward his own. Harry, startled beyond speech, tried desperately to pull himself away but Snape held him firmly. “Look at me,” Snape commanded in a voice that chilled Harry to his core. Harry stilled and obeyed.

Harry lost himself completely as his mind plunged through a confusing series of images. Blurred memories that were not his own flashed through Harry’s mind.

The images began to slow and sharpen in their focus and Harry became the memories…became Snape.

Lily was seated behind the bench in Severu’s lab. She was chopping something with a small knife and every few seconds she darted nervous glances over at Severus, who was methodically stirring a cauldron, pretending not to notice his wife’s odd behavior.

After a few minutes of the Lily’s ridiculous staring, Severus finally looked up from his Potion. He had had enough of Lily’s silence. He frowned at her and asked quietly, “Lily, what is it?”

Lily looked confused and shook her head. “Nothing. I’m fine,” she told her husband but her voice sounded distant. She sounded nothing like his Lily.

Severus stopped stirring abruptly and turned to face Lily fully. He didn’t even bother to place a Stasis Charm over the cauldron, a measure of just how concerned he was; he could endure no more of this. “Lily, you have barely spoken a word in two days. If you are angry with me-”

Lily interrupted with a heavy sigh. “I’m not angry,” she told Severus tiredly and then before he could question her further, Lily’s eyes took on a hard edge and she lifted her chin slightly and Severus recognized the determination in her face. “I have to tell you something, Severus.”

Severus’ eyes narrowed as he studied Lily. He Occluded his mind quickly. Whatever it was, Lily obviously knew it would make him angry, so Severus prepared himself. “What is it?” Severus finally asked, his features a passive mask.

Lily bit her lip again and turned away from Severus, which made Severus clench his jaw in anticipation. This promised to be bad, indeed. Lily’s voice was barely audible when she spoke again. Severus had to lean forward in order to hear her next words, as his wife whispered, “James is Harry’s father. I wasn’t sure before, but…I am now.”

Severus reared back as though he had been slapped, his eyes wide as he stared at Lily.

“What?” he rasped out, the question a strangled cry. It couldn’t be, he wanted to shout at her. It wasn’t true. Harry was his son, not Potter’s. His son. But Lily was looking at him now, with such anguish and Severus’ heart tore into pieces. Severus felt himself falling, losing himself completely to endless shadow as his life was rent from him.