“Today you will be brewing this.” Snape pointed his finger at a parchment set out at Harry’s workbench. Harry took a look at the instructions and blanched: This was the most difficult potion he’d had to make in the last ten days. Twenty ingredients meticulously timed and prepared, and they were only a third of the way through the book. Why spring this on him now? Was this, like, a midterm?

“You’re sure I’m ready for this?” he asked his teacher, scepticism clear in his voice.

“Positive, now get started.” Snape moved away to his own cauldron and Harry took a deep breath before beginning to study the instructions. As he did so, he realised he could brew this potion, it was tedious – but he just knew he could do it. Brushing his long hair out of his eyes, he began to set out his ingredients and set the flame under his cauldron.

Severus watched him, covertly, for a moment then went back to his own brewing. He had decided that today was the day he would let Harry know about their true relationship; and he was frightened to the core of his being. Would the boy accept him? Would they be able to become a family? He attempted to put those worries aside as he began work on some base potions for the coming year. Something mindless while he watched his son work.

During the last two weeks, he and the Medi-witch had finished their report for the Muggle authorities on the abuse Potter had suffered at the hands of the Dursleys. The report had resulted in the family being taken into custody. Harry did not know of this turn of events, yet. He would eventually need to know, as he would be required to make an appearance in court – but that was in the future. They needed to get through Lupin’s news first.

A meeting with Lucius had been the perfect opportunity to casually drop the information that the wards had dropped on Privet Drive. By happy coincidence, the residence at number four had been invaded, ransacked and – when discovered that no one was home – burnt to the ground.

Unfortunately, Lucius had not been as forthcoming as Snape had wished; despite the fifty-year old Brandy he had brought to share. The man had boasted that he was carrying out a mission he had been given years ago by the Dark Lord, but that was all he was willing to reveal. Snape was frustrated, but did not let that show. He wasn’t sure if Malfoy truly knew what was going to happen, or if he was full of hot air. But there was no need to alarm Malfoy with his scepticism, or his curiosity; instead, he praised the man for his resourcefulness, stroking his ego every step of the way.

He had visited with his godson after that, to check up on him and make sure Lucius hadn’t been meting out his usual discipline of the boy – but all looked well, and Draco had only asked him a few questions about his homework and when he could come and visit Severus in the dungeons. Severus had put him off with a murmured “We’ll see, Draco – I’m quite busy this summer”. He did not need the angst in the dungeons that a meeting between the two boys would create. Not until he could buffer it beforehand.

Potter had improved in his tutorial, enough to amaze his sour professor. He even had nearly all his summer essays finished – to Severus’ satisfaction, which was a feat in itself. His handwriting was improving, with the forty-five minutes set aside each afternoon to practice penmanship with the quill. Repetitive lines of single letters, following an example parchment showing the strokes needed to form each letter - then full words - honed the hand and set the flesh memory into the fingertips.

They had also started in on some meditation exercises in the evening – after working out in Severus’ personal gym. Harry had been amazed that his professor had taken an unused classroom in the dungeons and had turned it into his own personal workout room. And the exercises Snape had set him had him physically wrung out after just an hour, which made the meditation work even better. Between the two, he needed the Dreamless Sleep less and less. What the boy was unaware of was that the meditation exercises were helping to create a bond between the two, a magical bond that linked their souls together as father and son. As the bond grew, their ability to detect what the other was feeling would grow as well.

The boy had also begun his physical changes, as the ladies had noticed earlier, although he was unaware of them yet – putting them down to the nutritive potion, or Severus’ shampoo; Severus had a good laugh to himself after that question had come up one night. Severus, however, was quite aware of the changes: Harry’s hair was less messy, he had gained length in his face and fingers, and he was starting to grow taller. It wouldn’t be long before Harry really started wondering what was going on. Thus, it was time.

So, today the professor had written out the receipt for the afternoon’s potion – a potion called Familiatas. This particular brew analysed the blood from two donors and determined their consanguinity. A colour change indicated how close the familial relationship was, with a royal purple hue indicating a parent/child bond. Severus kept that portion of the potion’s information on his desk, until needed later. He did not want Harry to know, just yet, what he was brewing. In fact, the last step – adding the blood – was omitted on Harry’s version of the potion.

The two worked quietly as they both concentrated on their tasks. Snape was nervous: what if Harry rejected him? Over the last two weeks it had seemed as if the two were getting along; Harry had shown his teacher respect, although a bit shyly, and he had even relaxed to the point of teasing his guardian with some sarcastic remarks that had been followed up with a small smile when Severus had teased back in kind. It had almost become a game between the two – who could be the most sarcastic before breaking a grin. Snape always won, but Harry was starting to give him a run for his money.

He snuck some looks at his son; watching with a feeling, akin to pride, as he saw how confidently the boy brewed the complicated potion.

***

“Sir?”

“Yes?”

“I believe I’m finished,” Harry announced a while later, stepping back from the potions bench so his guardian could check his work. Snape wandered over to the workbench and peered into the cauldron, gently simmering. The potion had been perfectly brewed and Snape nodded to himself as he Accio-ed the results parchment from his desk and placed it beside the cauldron.

“Well done. Now, take your silver knife and add three drops of blood from your index finger.” Harry looked warily at the man, but complied – wincing as the knife bit into the tip of his finger and he watched three small, ruby-red drops fall into the centre of the cauldron. It stained the top of the potion as it spread out in a thin film. “Good, now stir three times clockwise with your glass rod.” Harry did this as well, and looked back up at his teacher.

“May I?” Severus asked the boy while reaching for the knife. The child nodded mutely and his eyes grew wide as he watched his teacher pierce his own finger and add three more drops to the brew. Harry stirred the potion again when requested, and the two leaned forward over the cauldron, watching the potion darken from a light pink to a royal purple.

Snape leaned back, sighing in satisfaction as the werewolf’s information was confirmed; not that he had doubted the intelligence was true - he just liked to verify things his own way if he could. He sat down on the stool and handed the parchment to his son.

“What’s this?” Harry asked as he took his own seat.

“These are the potion’s possible results. The potion determines the degree of familial relationship between two people.”

“‘Familial…’” He gazed back in the cauldron and then down at the paper in his hands. “‘Royal Purple indicates a parent/child relationship,’” he read off the sheet. He was quiet for a long moment before he slowly raised his eyes to look at the man seated next to him. Taking a huge gulp of air, and gathering his Gryffindor courage, he asked, “You’re my father? That's what this means, isn't it?”

“Yes,” Snape simply said, watching the child carefully.

“How – how long have you known?” The child’s voice cracked with his suppressed anger.

“Only since last Tuesday night; Lupin told me after he realised you were staying with me for the summer. He knew the charms your mother had set on you to make you appear to be James Potter’s son were going to wear off this month.”

That took the wind out of Harry’s sails. “Oh…” He stared back at the parchment, then up to his professor. “That’s why I look like James Potter?”

“Yes, your mother was quite good with charms; this is one she created. However, the glamours are starting to wear off; they should be completely gone by the end of the month.”

Harry suddenly stood, tears bright in his eyes – but not from happiness. “Is there anything in my life that is not a lie?” he choked out. “I don’t know who I am anymore! Do you… do you even want me?” His arms had unconsciously gone around his torso, hugging himself in his confusion.

“Want you? Of course I do!” Severus eased himself off his stool and took a step toward his son. He gently enclosed the boy in his arms and let the child sob into his robes. He quietly began to reassure the pre-teen.

“I was unaware you were born a month late – I lost all contact with Lily during that time period. Besides, she was trying to protect the both of us – she wasn’t going to let that be jeopardised. I was still spying on the Dark Lord. Potter apparently knew, and yet he loved you as if you were his – don’t ever forget that. However, the truth is – you are my son; my flesh and blood with Lily, conceived when we were still married. I want you more than anything in this world! Can you understand that?” Slowly he stroked the raven head, waiting for Harry to settle down.

“I – I – I just feel that the world has been turned over so many times the last few days,” the boy sobbed as Snape pulled back a bit.

“Harry, look at me,” the older man commanded. Harry raised his head and met the black eyes that now showed concern for him. “Things are now the way they should have been years ago. This may take us awhile to sort out, and get used to, but we can do it. I will acknowledge you – yes, even if it means giving up my spying,” he said to the concerned green eyes. “Your mother thought she was protecting us – I can’t fault her for that. How could she have known you would end up at Petunia’s?” Harry flinched at the memories that name evoked. “But you are never going back there!”

That startled Harry. “What? Why?”

“By acknowledging you, I gain full parental custody, not just the guardianship that we agreed to earlier. You would stay with me over the holidays. Besides,” he said with a partial lift to his lips, “The Dursleys have been taken into Muggle custody for their abuse of you. Somehow, the shadier side of wizardom found out the wards were down and got – shall we say – a little enthusiastic in their investigation.” He delighted in making the boy’s eyes go round in surprise, and this news nearly had them popping out of their sockets.

“Are you serious?” exclaimed his boy.

Snape refrained, with great effort, from snapping back a sarcastic retort, as it would have gone clean over the child’s head. He settled for a sincere “Yes” instead.

“Bloody hell!” Harry murmured in pleased surprise. Severus cuffed him across the back of the head for his use of language, but then gathered the child against his side in a surprising show of affection.

“So, what do I call you?” Harry asked as they later walked along Salazar’s corridor back to their quarters. The portrait had been ecstatic with the news, and promised not to tell the Headmaster on pain of being burnt.

“Let’s stick to Severus, or sir, for the time being. Anything else can come later, when you’re ready.”

Harry nodded as he opened the door to their quarters, but then gasped as he espied Dumbledore sitting in the lounge area.

Severus narrowed his eyes at the headmaster before giving his son a push between the shoulder blades. “Go wash up for dinner, Harry. Albus, what can I do for you?”

“Yes, sir.” Harry murmured, rapidly disappearing down the corridor to his room.

“‘Harry’ now, Severus?” the old man asked, stroking his beard, eyes twinkling.

“When I feel like it, what do you need?” he asked coolly, not bothering to sit down – although Albus had already taken the liberty of Snape’s best chair.

“I heard about the Dursleys,” he began, going straight to the point, the twinkle gone from his eyes; instead they were like hard blue stones.

“And you came to see if I was responsible for it?” Snape said as he walked to his liquor cabinet and poured himself a small brandy. He deliberately did not offer one to the Headmaster, but went to sit behind his desk, keeping the expanse of polished wood between him and the old man.

“I’m positive you were; you take your guardianship duties seriously. Was it necessary, however, to deprive them of their home?” Dumbledore said sadly.

“They deprived Harry, Albus. They abused him, starved him, and used him like a house-elf. Good riddance. Besides, they’re in custody, they have no need of that… abode.”

“We don’t know that for sure, Severus…”

Severus nearly lost it right then. “Don’t know for sure? Dumbledore – are you living with your head in the sand? Did you not read those reports that Pomfrey put together; did you not see the damage with your own eyes? Are you deliberately trying to be obtuse?” He paused in thought, calming himself down. “Or,” he drawled out, “did you know and you left him there anyway?” he asked, almost positive he was right. And apparently he was correct as his superior paled, collapsing in on himself as the accusation hit home.

“The blood wards… they were his only protection… his mother’s sacrifice. Petunia knew what was at stake…” Dumbledore mumbled to himself. Snape was having none of his excuses, though.

“And she repudiated him, breaking those wards. McGonagall and I told you numerous times that Petunia was not a fit guardian. Think, Dumbledore, think!” he growled. “You knew Petunia was jealous of Lily’s gift, and that jealousy turned to hate after their parents were murdered. Why would you think she would care for Lily’s son? You are exceedingly lucky they hadn’t killed him – although it was damnably close!” he spat.

“And where will Harry stay next summer?” asked the headmaster faintly, slowly coming back to his senses.

“With me, Dumbledore, I am his guardian…”

“For this summer only…” he pointed out, his tone gaining more vigor.

“No, Albus, permanently. He. Is. My. Son!” He slammed a fist down on the desk in emphasis, causing a few piles to start sliding. He waved his hand quickly, setting a non-verbal, wandless charm on them to keep them in place. He hadn’t planned on telling the old busybody this news so quickly, but he had to take the upper hand. And it felt good to stun the old man, almost as good as it felt to take him to task for Harry’s injuries.

This news surprised Dumbledore. “Your what?” Snape was amused, the man actually sounded angry and aggrieved; as if his plans had been toppled over in one fell swoop.

“My son,” said Snape quietly and firmly. “Lily and I were married – quite secretly – but decided with my spying that she would be safer if she were married legally to Potter. Harry was born eight months later and everyone assumed he was a month early. In reality he was a month late.”

“When did you find out?”

“Last Tuesday night.”

“Lupin,” the old man said flatly. The two men looked up as Harry re-entered the room, curious after hearing the shouting. “This complicates many things, Severus,” he said, turning back to his potions master, ignoring the young man. Severus hooded his eyes at the slight to the boy.

“I’m aware of that. However, the charms will be gone by September first and the problem becomes a moot point – everyone will see the change and know he is related to me. Just to let you know, I have already filed the corrected paperwork with the ministry through a discreet contact I have there.” Snape leaned back in his chair, swirling his brandy sniffer in one hand. “I’m afraid the minute this news gets out, my spying days are over,” he stated with a bit of pleasure in his voice. Lately, all he wanted to do was teach and get to know his son better, not necessarily in that order.

Harry took a seat at the table, watching the two men discuss his life. He had been surprised, but pleasantly so, when Severus revealed that the paperwork acknowledging Harry as his son was already on file at the ministry. For a moment, though, he felt like he was a superfluous person in the room until he noticed the headmaster looking away for a moment and Severus catching Harry’s eyes, giving him a short nod. So, Severus was playing Dumbledore; Harry decided to sit back and watch the master at work.

“I need you to spy, Severus, you’re the only one…” Dumbledore pleaded.

“I am not,” he snapped. “There are other people just as capable of maintaining contact with those Death Eaters who are still free.”

“Perhaps; but none with your experience, or as highly placed in the organisation. We could replace the charms…”

“No, actually, you can’t. They were Lily’s creation,” he stated proudly. “I have absolutely no idea how she created and manipulated them. Nor am I even going to attempt to fathom them.”

“But surely with the charms off, you two will be more at risk…”

“I said ‘No’,” said Severus sharply. “If you are not willing to work with us on this, then I will take my son elsewhere; Hogwarts is not the only game in town,” he threatened, black eyes steely in their glare.

“It’s not?” Harry suddenly piped up in surprise, before remembering he should’ve stayed quiet. But his father just raised an eyebrow at him before answering smoothly.

“No, it’s not. There are many other institutes of wizard learning, or you can be home schooled.” His voice was silky and unruffled, but his eyes said, ‘Now hush up, and let me deal with him.’ Harry looked contrite as he settled back into his seat, tucking his hands under his legs, and sucking his lower lip under his teeth to remind himself to keep quiet and still.

“In fact, home schooling may be the route to go,” Severus mused, looking up at the ceiling and leaning back in his chair, swirling the brandy some more, as he contemplated Harry’s options out loud. “Or perhaps Durmstrang… yes, he could learn many defensive techniques at Durmstrang. Hmm, I do believe my old friend, Karkaroff, is now headmaster there, I’m sure I could get Harry transferred for next term, and get a teaching position as well.” He looked thoughtful, but he was watching Dumbledore out of the corner of his eye. The old man was definitely fuming in his seat, the eyes gaining a hard blue edge, instead of the usual twinkle. He gently warmed the brandy once again before taking a long sip. He knew Dumbledore would rather walk on flaming coals than have Harry under Karkaroff’s tutelage.

“Fine, fine…” the old man finally broke. “I guess I can find someone else to spy.”

“Good,” said Snape, apparently satisfied. He straightened up in his chair, setting the brandy glass down on the polished wooden surface in front of him, and folding his arms across the edge of the desk as he leaned toward his mentor. “Now I can give you some information from Lucius and Harry. Apparently Lucius is planning something for the school year. I was unable to discover what, but it was dire enough to make his house-elf, Dobby, take it upon himself to warn Harry not to return to school. It has something to do with a mission that the Dark Lord gave Lucius before he was defeated. That’s all I could get from him.”

Dumbledore’s eyes grew calculating, the twinkling, that had come back momentarily, settling into a hard gleam. “Then Harry wasn’t the reason for the misuse of magic, I take it.” He finally sent his piercing gaze over to the boy hunched in the chair. Harry took this to mean he could finally talk.

“No sir, it was Dobby; he did the hover charm, and crashed my aunt’s pudding all over my uncle’s guests.”

“I see.” Dumbledore looked back over at Snape and sighed. “Alright, I will take the warning as it stands. There is not much else I can do until the school term starts and we see what turns up.” He stood and ambled his way over to the door.

“Albus,” Snape called, with a warning in his voice.

“Yes, my boy?” He halted with his hand on the doorknob.

“I hold you partially responsible for what happened to Harry at Petunia’s. If you so much as step one toe out of line again, where it concerns my son, I will make good my threat; I will remove him from this school, and you won’t be able to find him until I say so.”

Dumbledore looked sad at this pronouncement but he nodded his head. “I understand, Severus.” He slowly opened the door and headed out into the dank dungeon corridor beyond.