Harry's glasses had slid down his nose when he fell, and his first instinct was to shove them back up, but then he realised that his vision was crystal clear without them. As a matter of fact, he could plainly see his long thin, elegant fingers—wait! What? No! He didn't have long thin elegant fingers; he had short stubby fingers.

Harry once again looked up at his father and Slughorn, who remained frozen in their spots, like statues.

Harry felt the panic rise up as he fully registered the looks of shock on the older men's faces.

“Severus, Professor? What's wrong? Did the ritual not work?” At their continued silence, Harry lost control of what little composure remained.

“Will someone please tell me what the hell is going on!”

Severus reached out a hand to his son, his eyes never leaving Harry's face for a moment.

“Come Harry, let us go to our quarters,” Severus said gently, but firmly. “I think perhaps there are some things that will need explaining.”

“What things?” Harry asked warily.

Severus put his hand over Harry's as he once again automatically tried to push his glasses back up over the bridge of his nose.

“I don't believe you'll be needing those anymore... son,” Severus said softly. He removed the glasses from Harry's nose and put them in his robes pocket.

Harry gawked at his father.

“Wha-wha-t do you mean? Why wouldn't I need them? Will someone please ex-”

“I will explain everything once we are in our quarters Harry,” Severus insisted, as he took Harry firmly by the arm and led him out the door.

Harry looked back and saw Horace staring after them, scratching his head, with a shell-shocked expression on his face.

Harry tried several times to get an explanation as to Severus and Slughorn's odd behaviour, but Severus remained firm, insisting that he would explain everything once they were in the privacy of their quarters.

Harry had a sinking feeling that he wasn't going to like the explanation. As a matter of fact, the closer they got to their quarters, the more Harry felt as though he were on his way to the gallows. His feelings of apprehension didn't lesson when they entered their quarters and Severus led Harry to the couch and told him to sit down.

When Severus went over to the bottle of Firewhiskey and poured two heaping glasses and handed one to Harry, after downing his quickly, Harry knew with certainty that whatever had taken place during that ritual had consequences that Harry was not going to like.

Harry stared at the glass of Firewhiskey in his hand and looked at his father in confusion. He is actually encouraging me to drink alcohol? Severus had an aversion to Harry drinking alcohol. Severus had an aversion to alcohol period. Severus had explained the reason that he had come down so hard on Harry for drinking to excess, was because his own father had been an abusive alcoholic. Severus himself, rarely indulged in drinking, and if so, limited his consumption to one glass. He was quite adamant that his son would not follow in his grandfather's footsteps, and Harry had been forced to be on the receiving end of many a lecture on the pitfalls of alcohol abuse. He warned Harry that alcohol could become a crutch and what started out as one drink could quickly become an addiction that could ruin your life.

That is how Harry knew that whatever Severus was about to tell him had to be shocking enough that he felt it justified breaking his rule about drinking.

Harry relaxed a little as the Firewhiskey took the edge off the rising panic that was threatening to overwhelm him

“Just a moment,” Severus directed as he went to the other room.

Severus returned several moments later, with of all things, a mirror in his hand.

Harry's brow crinkled in confusion. A mirror? Okay, so thinking about it later, he had been a little slow on the uptake, but after the intense emotions that whirled through his mind with the ritual, and then the dulling effects of the alcohol, Harry thought that he could have been forgiven for being slow to realise just what had taken place after the ritual.

Harry's heart really began to race when Severus knelt down on one knee, and looked deeply into Harry's eyes.

“Harry, this is going to be rather a shock for you, but during the course of the ritual, your-” Severus hesitated a moment. He wanted to prepare Harry for the shock that he knew the boy would experience at seeing his image in the mirror, but honestly, he didn't believe that any amount of preparation was going to prepare the boy for this.

“What?” Harry prodded.

“The ritual that Slughorn and I performed, as we've already explained was one of purification and cleansing of the soul. Basically, such a ritual will wash away any impurities and evil, or negative energy that has tainted the soul, that was always meant to be pure. In other words, the intention of the ritual was to return your soul to the state it was in at the moment of your birth. Although the soul is part of who you are, the shell, your body if you will, is also affected when the soul is cleansed. Of course the spell has not brought you to the size you were when you were born, but one of it's effects is to wash away any glamour or any spells that marred your original appearance.”

Realisation washed through Harry, and he wasn't quite sure he was ready to fully accept or understand the ramifications of what Severus was implying.

Severus slowly lifted the mirror for Harry to look at himself.

Harry felt like he was back in the Pensieve. It was as though a young Severus Snape stared back at him.

Fine silky black hair, with slight auburn highlights, framed the fined-boned, pale cheeks. Dark green eyes stood out on his now alabaster complexion. Harry was relieved that his eyes were still green like his mom's, although perhaps they were slightly darker than hers; but at least they weren't coal black like his father's. Not that he had anything against the colour of Severus' eyes, but he'd always felt a connection with his mum, because they had the same eye colour. Harry stared a little longer at his nose than elsewhere. Thank the gods that he hadn't inherited his father's nose. Actually it hadn't changed all the much, and he thought that it actually resembled his mom's.

Harry's voice hitched in his throat. “I look like you,” he said softly, as he lowered the mirror to look at Severus.

“Yes, you do," Severus said softly.

He wasn't quite sure if his son thought that that was a terrible thing or not. When he'd first seen Harry writhing and rolling around on the floor after he'd passed out, he began to suspect what was taking place. He couldn't tear his eyes away from his son, after the transformation had taken place. It was one thing to know that Harry Potter was his son, but looking at the boy who so resembled his childhood enemy, and to put the image with the reality, had taken a little time.

Now, as he stared at his son--looking at this boy, and seeing himself and Lily both reflected in his young son's face, it suddenly hit him with full-force that Harry really was his son. Lily's son. But the boy was more handsome then he had ever been. Traces of Lily's features softened the hard lines of Severus' own contributions to his looks, and there were soft auburn highlights in Harry's hair, that you only noticed when the light reflected on his silky locks, like now... The green eyes and soft sprinkling of freckles around the nose, reminded him of Lily. Oh Merlin. His heart wrenched; this boy really was his son. His and Lily's.

Harry couldn't stop staring at his reflection; examining everything from his long black eyelashes, to the shape of his mouth. He studied his long elegant fingers, and thought they resembled Severus' own larger ones. He took his shoes off and examined his feet, that were now also longer and narrower, but unfortunately his legs weren't any longer.

He looked up at Severus in dismay. "Hey, how come I'm not taller?" he whined. Dammit. If his whole appearance had to change, how come he couldn't have at least benefited from it?

"James wasn't much shorter than I am, Harry. I believe that there are factors other than genetics at work here," Severus growled.

Severus hesitated. He knew that Harry disliked talking about his life with the Dursleys, and was loathe to bring it up at such an important moment between the two of them. Many revelations had come to light about Harry's earlier home life, during Occlumency training, including just how severe Harry's treatment at the hands of his relatives was. Severus had already known since fifth year, a little of the neglect and abuse that he'd suffered, but it was only recently that Harry had opened up and admitted just how severe it had really been.

"We've already discussed how the effects of years of starvation and malnutrition have had on your body Harry," Severus said sadly. "I'm afraid that removing the glamour couldn't reverse the effects the malnutrition had on stunting your growth. The ritual only removed whatever Magical or Dark spells that were performed on your body. Unfortunately, it cannot reverse the effects of Muggle abuse suffered at the hands of your so-called family," Severus said in disgust.

Severus wished he knew what had become of the Dursleys after they'd been forced to relocate for their own protection. Not that they deserved any protection, he thought bitterly. Perhaps it was better that he couldn't exact revenge on the son of a bitch, because Severus couldn't honestly say that he wouldn't thrash the man within an inch of his life, and he wasn't even sure if he could control himself enough to guarantee that the bastard would still be breathing by the time he was finished with him. I'd probably end up in Azkaban for murdering a Muggle, Severus thought caustically. Of course it would be worth it. No, Harry needed him. No matter how grown up the kid thought he was.

Harry studied Severus' features, and then his own yet again. This would take some getting used to he realised. He wondered how his friends would react to his new appearance. Hell, how would Ginny react? He didn't think that he was bad looking like this, but would Ginny see him differently, inside as well as out. One thing was certain. there was no denying that he was the son of Severus Snape anymore. He was the spitting image of him. Of course, he had many features of his mom as well. Severus wouldn't really be a bad looking guy if he took more care of his appearance Harry thought with sudden realisation. Of course he wasn't brave enough to tell his father that he should wash his hair more often, or use whitening toothpaste. Of course Severus had been an awkward teenager but Harry noticed that it was only really after his Mum had let him go that he'd begun to be careless about his appearance. Yes, Severus had explained, once, and only once, that his hair was greasy due to the constant fumes from the Potions that he'd been exposed to. After that initial line of questioning, he'd made it clear to Harry that the subject was closed and to bring it up again was at great personal risk to himself. Wisely, Harry kept quiet on the subject after that.

Harry was certainly glad that Severus had given him the Firewhiskey, because it had been a very emotional day, and it looked like things were only going to become more complicated. Harry had had plans on moving back to Gryffindor immediately after the ceremony, but now he wasn't sure if he was quite ready. He'd need time to adjust to the changes, and he wasn't sure how his friends were going to react. There was also the matter of his relationship with Severus. Harry knew that at his age, most teenagers wanted to be away from their parents and strike out on their own, but his situation was quite different from that of his friends and classmates, who had grown up knowing their parents, and being part of a family. Harry had never had that luxury, and now that he and Severus had found each other and were becoming closer, he was determined not to let anything come between them again.

Harry decided that perhaps a slow transition would be best. Perhaps staying in the Tower a few times a week to begin with, and after that he could stay with his father on weekends. But suddenly Harry felt insecure. Maybe Severus was anxious to have his privacy back and would want him to move out. Harry shook his head. What the hell was he thinking about this right now for? He wasn't himself anymore. He wasn't Harry Potter anymore. He felt like he never was. There was nothing left of James Potter in his appearance. The only link he had to James Potter was his name. He felt like his whole world had toppled upside down. Harry had thought that he'd come to terms with all the changes in his life, and he thought that because he was growing to care for Severus, that he'd accepted that his whole life had been a lie before--but now, he wasn't so sure anymore.

Severus could see the conflicting emotions flit over Harry's face. He sat down on the chair across from Harry and moved it a little closer. He took Harry's hands in his own.

"I know you must be confused right now, and that this is all rather a lot to take in. Perhaps it's best if you take a little time to adjust to these changes before making any decisions," Severus suggested hesitantly.

He had an inkling that Harry had been anxious to return to the Tower immediately after the ritual had been performed, but one look at Harry's face, obviously riddled with anxiety, he could sense that Harry was having doubts about leaving the security of their quarters. At least Severus hoped that Harry had come to feel secure living here with him. Severus could admit to himself that he was not the easiest person to live with. He knew that he was quick-tempered and had a rather short fuse, and Harry had been on the receiving end of his wrath, on more than one occasion. He was definitely not a man one would call patient or understanding. He thought that he'd tempered his volatile nature somewhat for his son's sake, but he was not, never had been, and never would be what one would call a nice person. He was not one to make excuses for his behaviour, and as far as Severus was concerned, the only person whose opinion mattered to him, was his son's. Of course, he had cared to a certain extent, what Albus had thought of him. Yes, the man had made mistakes, but who could claim that they hadn't? All in all, Severus was proud of the effort he'd made with Harry, and although there were some areas that perhaps he needed to work on, such as feeling comfortable showing affection towards his son, for instance, he felt that Harry at least understood how much Severus had grown to care for him.

"I was thinking," Harry began slowly, "that if you didn't mind that I'd wait a bit before I moved back up to the Tower permanently."

Severus' eyes widened in surprise. "I thought that it went without saying Po-" Severus looked at the boy who looked so much like a younger version of himself, and realised that he would never again think of the boy as a Potter. He was truly a Snape now. A Potter in name only. Severus couldn't help but enjoy a moment of gleeful revenge at the thought that all traces of Potter's looks, were gone from his son's appearance. Damn the man for claiming my son as his own. Severus attempted to stifle the flash of anger he'd felt towards the dead man. After all, the man had died to save his son. He could perhaps be forgiven for his stealing Severus' son, if it had meant that Harry had been safe. He owed Potter that much.

Harry flinched.

Severus felt a pang of guilt. Obviously the boy misread the momentary display of anger on Severus' face for rejection.

"Harry, this is your home too. I thought that you understood that," Severus said softly. "You're my son, and you'll always be welcome here, and you can stay as long as you like. As a matter of fact, I hope that after you move back up to the Tower permanently, yo-"

Severus wanted very much to express to Harry, how much he would miss him when he moved out, and that he hoped that Harry would perhaps come and stay overnight or on weekends, and how much his life had changed for the better since Harry had become a part of it. But, Severus couldn't find the words. He wasn't a man who was used to expressing his feelings. Even to his son.

But he didn't need to. Despite all the effort that Severus had made to keep up his wall to block out other's intrusion, the bond that had forged between Harry and himself, was stronger than the reserved man had ever thought possible. Only Lily had ever been able to read him so well. Only Lily had ever been able to understand what he hadn't been able to put into words.

The corners of Harry's mouth lifted in a small smile. His father was really quite predictable, he thought. When things got a little too mushy for his liking, he always pulled back and the wall went back up. But Harry knew what Severus had been trying to say. The man would miss him when he was gone. That gave Harry the courage to voice what had been on his mind.

"I was wondering if it would be okay-uh- if maybe I could maybe, you know...uh, stay here sometimes after I move up to the Tower for good?" Harry finally managed to spit out.

While it was true that Harry's powers of Occlumency had drastically improved, and Severus was beginning to think that perhaps his son had inherited some of his skill, Severus looked suspiciously at his son, wondering if the boy was also beginning to inherit his skill of Leglimency as well. He brushed aside that ridiculous notion. That took years of training. No, Harry was just a very intuitive young man, and the two of them were becoming closer and as much as Severus hated to admit it, living with someone day and day out made it easier for that person to notice patterns of behaviour.

"Harry, would you stop this nonsense immediately. I've already told you that you are welcome here any time and that this is your home. End of discussion," he said gruffly. Better to end this conversation before it became even sappier. He could only deal with so much bonding at a time.

"So, what about the ritual? Do you think that it was--successful?" Harry asked hesitatingly. He'd been so overwhelmed by his new appearance that he'd forgotten about the reason they'd performed the ritual to begin with.

Severus took a deep breath. "I would say so. If the ritual had not been successful, your appearance would not have changed as it has."

Severus leaned forward and gently brushed Harry's fringe to the side. His forehead was no longer marred by the angry red lightning-bolt scar that had marked him as the Dark Lord's equal. After the Dark Lord had been vanquished, the scar had receded but hadn't disappeared completely. There was still a certain blemish that had been left on Harry's own soul even after the last Horcrux had been destroyed. Or rather, the Dark Lord's soul that had inhabited his son's body. Now though, it appeared that every last trace of Dark Magic had been erased.

"Of course, time will tell, but since your scar has completely disappeared, and the glamour that your mother had placed on you has been stripped away, I would say that the ritual was indeed successful."

Harry breathed a sigh of relief. He sincerely hoped that this ordeal was behind him. There was still the dream though. He'd never really had a moment to discuss the disturbing images that still haunted him, with Severus. They had both been tuckered out after his detention with Malfoy, Harry thought amusedly. Now that he thought back on it, he realised how immature he'd been, but it had certainly been fun to rile up Malfoy. The prat certainly deserved some payback for all the grief he'd given Harry over the years, but perhaps his actions had been a trifle bit childish, he admitted. But damn... it had been fun!

Harry bit his lip. "Uh, I think that my friends are probably anxious to know if the Ritual has been successful. But I'm not sure how they're going to react to me looking like-" Harry stopped abruptly.

Severus smirked. "Like me, you mean."

Harry flushed. "Well, I mean, uh-"

Severus laughed at Harry's discomfort. He put his arms around Harry's shoulders. "Don't worry Harry. Your mother's good looks have certainly transferred to you. It could be worse." He teased. He pointed to his nose. "You could have been blessed with the trademark Snape nose."

Harry was smart enough not to share with his father, his own relief at just that thought.

Severus raised his eyebrow at his son. He knew damned well what Harry had been thinking.

Severus quirked his lips. "Although, I do believe that your nose looks slightly larger than before." He laughed when Harry's hand flew up to clutch at his nose, and scowled at Severus when he realised that Severus had only been teasing him.

"Now, I think that perhaps I would like to freshen up a bit, and I believe that your friends are anxiously awaiting news from you."

Harry's stomach churned in anxiety. Doubts once again washed over him.

Severus squeezed his son's shoulders. "C'mon my young Gryffindor. What's the worst that can happen?"

"They're your friends Harry. Once they get over the initial shock, they won't care what you look like." Severus put his hand on his chest. "It's what inside you that's important."

Harry nodded at his father, but his emotions swirled with uncertainty.

----

After Harry had left their quarters, Severus mulled over what he'd told Harry. He wasn't quite certain that his advice had merit. He wasn't a fool. He knew what the majority of the student population said behind his back, and it had never bothered him before. As a matter of fact, he enjoyed, even encouraged his reputation of being nasty and unapproachable, but would Harry's friends and classmates, judge him simply because he so resembled their most-hated Professor?

No. As much as Severus was loathe to admit it, Harry's friends were loyal-- sometimes nauseatingly so, he thought caustically. They wouldn't judge Harry simply by his appearance. They had been through too much together to abandon their friends just because he no longer looked like the heroic James Potter. He scowled at the thought. James Perfect Potter. No matter what he accomplished in his life, he could never compete with the legend of the man. He knew that he was being petty, but again jealousy reared it's ugly head up to cloud Severus' view of his relationship with Harry. He just couldn't get over his feelings of inadequacy where Harry was concerned. Could you ever really compete with a dead man's legacy?

Now, Harry's friends had been quite supportive of their relationship; Granger and Weasley had even participated in the ritual to bring him back from the Veil. Knowing that Harry was Severus' son was one thing, but seeing their friend look the spitting image of him, Severus wasn't as confident in their reaction as he'd made Harry believe.

Severus decided that a shower was in order. He wanted nothing more than to wash away the weariness. It had been a long, emotionally draining day, and he was certain that his son would be needing his support and guidance, in one capacity or another.

Severus removed his heavy robes, and placed them, as usual, meticulously on the coat rack by the front door, and made his way to the loo.

As his long fingers fumbled with the many buttons on his shirt, he couldn't help allowing himself a small smile, when he pictured Harry-no-his son, with his startlingly green eyes, so much like Lily's, but staring at him from a face so much like a younger version of himself. If he had done nothing else right with his life, he at least could be proud of having sired this incredibily talented, handsome young man. He couldn't help but feel that he didn't deserve such a precious gift from Lily, after everything he'd put her through, but he was grateful nonetheless. A fierce protectiveness took hold of Severus when he thought of Harry. He hadn't know what he'd been missing before, but now that he had a taste of fatherhood, despite it's ups and downs, he would not trade being a father, for all the riches in the world. The intensity of his feelings for Harry scared him at times; he never thought that he would ever have such deep feelings for anyone, after Lily. Of course loving a woman, was a different experience from being a father, but the principle was the same--you opened yourself up and allowed yourself to be vulnerable when you allowed yourself to care, no matter what type of love it was.

Severus was fighting impatiently with the last stubborn button. He was anxious to have a shower, and was quite looking forward to shocking his son, by washing his hair. Perhaps it would be worth giving into vanity, just to stir up some gossip in the Great Hall tonight at Dinner. Imagine if the Greasy Git of the Dungeons wasn't greasy any longer. Some focus would possibly be taken off his son's own new appearance. Or perhaps it would solidify the relationship in the minds of others, who had never quite accepted their relationship. Either way, he was quite looking forward to Minerva and his other colleagues' reactions to his freshly washed hair.

Finally, Severus succumbed to frustration and ripped off the last button, tearing the fine fabric of his crisp, cotton shirt. He peeled off his shirt from his sweat-bathed skin, and sighed in relief when the cool air soothed his hot skin. He went to unbuckle the belt on his trousers, when he happened to look up in the mirror.

His eyes widened in shock. He brushed a calloused finger over the soft, smooth skin on his upper arm...where his Dark Mark had been burnt into it. The skin was now perfectly clear.

Severus examined every inch of his body, where he once had been riddled with numerous curse scars; the legacy of his days as a Death Eater. His skin was now virtually unmarred. There were a few scars left, that he'd earned the Muggle way, but any scar that had been caused by Magic, Dark or otherwise, had disappeared.

If Severus had been an emotional man, he would have given way to tears of joy. He hadn't thought of the possibility that while saving Harry's soul, he could save his own. He hadn't given a moment's thought that perhaps the White Magic that had cleansed the impurities from his son's body and soul, would also wash away his own sins. Severus had been so preoccupied with Harry's problems, that he hadn't noticed how he himself had been feeling differently since the Ritual. He couldn't quite put his finger on it, but now, in retrospect, he'd felt a certain calm and peacefulness wash over him as the spell had taken hold. This great burden of guilt that he had borne since taking the Dark Mark, was no longer a weight on his shoulders. Severus felt as though he'd been forgiven for every horrific act that he'd performed in his life and every sin that he'd committed against his fellow man.

----

Harry swallowed the lump in his throat. His heart raced and his stomach roiled with each step closer he took to the Tower.

They didn't notice him at first. Hermione, of course, was finishing up her homework, and Ginny and Ron were playing chess. Ron was actually growing red in the face because he hadn't anticipated that Ginny could have improved so drastically that she could actually give him a run for his money now. He was used to playing against Harry, who was really no competition at all, and was used to wiping the floor with all of them.

"You're cheating," he accused Ginny.

Ginny's face flushed a deep red that contrasted horribly with her hair colour. "Honestly Ron, you prat. How the hell could I possibly cheat? You're sitting right there, and you've been watching me the whole time."

Ron had the grace to look ashamed. "I'm so-"

"No forget it," she yelled as she jumped up angrily knocking the protesting chess pieces on the floor. "You're just a poor sport, that's a-"

Ginny stopped in mid-sentence, when she spotted Harry.

She peered at him suspiciously. "Who are you? How did you get in here?"