Once we arrive, I quickly stand up and head towards the threadbare sofa. Gently, I set Harry onto it, turning to retrieve my emergency supplies. Out of the corner of my eye, I notice that damn mutt jump up and settle on Harry's chest. I want to shoo it away because Merlin only knows how many fleas that thing has on it. I don't, though. The dog seems to calm Harry, so I allow it to remain.

Walking into the kitchen, I grab a vial of Pepper-up and another of Fever Reducer from my rack on the tiny table before heading back into the sitting area. That mutt is now licking my son's face. I walk over to them, pushing the mutt off. Unfortunately, this action results in the damn thing biting me.

"Son of a bitch," I yell, glaring at that mangy damn mutt. I nearly do a double take when the dog looks as if he's smiling at me. However, I just write that off as my needing sleep. After all, dogs do not smile. Even Longbottom knows that.

Flexing my hand, I concentrate on the wound, sealing it magically. I likely should have cleaned it out, but I'm more concerned with my son right now than myself. Returning my own glare at the mutt, I gently slide an arm under my son to push him upright.

"Oh, shut it," I snap towards the growling dog. "I'm attempting to help him, not hurt him." I then carefully lift the vial of Fever Reducer to my son's pale lips first, helping Harry drink it. Merlin only knows how long he's been suffering from that fever. Brushing back his fringe, I feel the warmth slowly retreat, leaving behind the cool sweat. "That's my boy," I whisper softly, placing the Pepper-up potion to his lips this time. "Just one more, and you'll start to feel better, Harry."

My face then relaxes almost into a smile as Harry follows my instructions. I remove my hand, moving a few steps back from him. After all, we haven't had the best relationship these past few years. The boy likely is going to think I've kidnapped him, which I suppose I have, in a way.

"Where … where am I?" he asks weakly, starting to stir. His green eyes glance around the room for a moment as he attempts to regain his bearings. Then he sees me, and his eyes harden. "Snape," he growls, reaching for his non-existent wand likely.

"Mr. Potter," I respond as cordially as is possible for me. I then hold out his Holly wand.

"Thanks," he forces himself to say, plucking his wand from my hand. "Where am I?"

"You are in my home."

"Why?" he curtly asks with a puzzled look.

"You were suffering from a rather high fever when I brought you here, Mr. Potter," I answer, ignoring his question. "However, the potions appear to have done their job. How do you feel?"

"Drugged," he replies, gritting his teeth slightly.

"Likely a reaction to the Fever Reducer and Pepper-up working in conjunction with one another," I respond, crossing my arms.

"Why am I here," he growls before adding bitingly, "Professor?"

"Your relatives were negligent in their care of you, Mr. Potter."

"So? What do you care, Snape?"

"I care because you are my—" I then close my mouth. After all, I can't just reveal that to him right now. If I do, I'm only going to manage to make my son pass out in shock or laughter.

"What? I'm your what, Snape? I'm your person you can take your anger out on?"

"It isn't that way at all, Mr. Potter."

"Then what way is it?"

"I shall explain when you are more calm, Mr. Potter." I then turn to leave the sitting area.

"No. I want an explanation now, sir," he responds angrily. "I can take whatever it is."

I whirl around and snort in response. He can take it? Judging by his face right now, he looks like he can barely take the presence of Hedwig right now, let alone my revelation. I just stare at him before sighing, shaking my head slowly.

"You'll have to forgive me for not believing you," I reply, turning away again.

"What? What is it, Snape? What is this big thing that you have to tell me?" After I don't respond, he then forces out a low laugh. "No, no, NO YOU SICK SON OF A BITCH, NO!" he yells. "You are NOT my father! Don't give me that bullshit, Snape! You're not my father! You CAN'T be my father."

"Why?" I ask, oddly wondering his reasoning.

"My mother wasn't—she LOVED HIM, Snape, HIM, not you! You can't—you can't just rewrite the past like that. It isn't fair. IT ISN'T GODDAMN FAIR!"

"Life isn't fair, Mr. Potter," I gently remind him.

"So how'd you do it, Snape? Huh? You brew yourself up some Polyjuice to trick her? Is that what you did?" His voice reminds me so much of his mother right now.

"She came to me willingly," I answer quietly, walking over to the chair in the corner to put some distance between us. Well, this isn't how I've imagined this conversation going, but I am going to get all of this out there in the open. My son does deserve an explanation. After all, I can see in his eyes that all this is a front for the immense hurt he feels at being abandoned by his living father.

"Willingly, you expect me to believe that?" he snarls, glaring at me with the accusing green eyes.

"At my age, I've come to expect nothing. However, if you wish to know for certain if I am telling the truth, I shall allow you to view my memories of that night."

"You're a wizard," he points out.

"As are you, Mr. Potter," I respond. "A wizard's oath or an Unbreakable Vow that I shall never lie to you, will that satisfy you, Mr. Potter?"

"You could break them. You're a sneaky enough git to do it."

"What part of 'Unbreakable Vow' do you not understand, Harry? If I break it, then I die, hence why it is called the Unbreakable Vow. You cannot break it and live to tell the tale about it."

"Fine, so you claim my mother came to you willingly? So what? Did you get her drunk then?"

"No. It was my understanding that she believed James was having an affair on her."

"And she just went crawling into your bed? Must have been your lucky day, Snape," he growls.

"That was my thought, too, yes," I admit quietly. "I could not say no to her when she came to me that night. I knew that there was a chance of a misunderstanding between her and James, but I welcomed her with open arms."

"To get back at my father?" he snaps.

"That was the thinking, yes," I answer.

"So what happened? She shagged you and then left?"

"Do not use that vulgarity when speaking about your mother." I honestly don't know why I am cutting Harry so many breaks right now. Well, likely it is because the boy is going through some sort of identity crisis right now. The man whom he has believed to be his father for years isn't his real father. I know I would be the same stubborn, snotty twelve-year-old if I ever was in his position.

"Why? You're basically calling her a—"

"I am not, Mr. Potter," I respond calmly. "Your mother was never such a woman." I then sigh. "If you are looking for a reason as to why she sought me out, she likely came because she knew it would upset him the most. She was hurt by his actions and wished to pay him back. I am rather certain that she didn't come to end up in my bed. Your mother and I were close friends since we were nine years old."

"Why would she be friends with a slimy Slytherin git like you?"

"We were nine as I said. There were no thoughts about Houses at that time," I answer, ignoring his blatant disrespect. However, it is starting to get on my nerves. "At the time, I was not as concerned about blood purity as I became in my later years."

"So her being a Muggleborn didn't bother you then?"

"No. I loved Lily for the kind woman she truly was. I likely still would have loved her even if she had been a Muggle. However, as time went on at Hogwarts, my loyalties were tested. I failed, and so I lost your mother as a result."

"Only to regain her later," he bitingly says.

"And lose her then again," I point out. Folding my hands in my lap, I stare at my son. Well, there is no easy way to say it than just to say it. "No doubt you are confused, considering what the Weasleys and others have informed you thus far about your parents. However, you are correct. Your mother loved James, not me in the end. No matter how many times I try to spin it." I then swallow back the bile. "Your mother and I had a fling I suppose one could say for nearly two months. She did not wish to return to James because she believed him to be like all the other pureblooded wizards at the time."

"So you and Mum were together, having the time of your lives, right?" he asks angrily.

"Perhaps we were. I'll admit that being with her those two months were the happiest of my life. However, I could not keep the darkness of my life from interfering with her life." I then draw in a deep breath. "When I learned that Lily was pregnant with you, I started to fear for you and your mother. While I admit freely that there was a part of me that was ecstatic to learn that she was carrying my child, there was a bigger part that made me sick with dread for you two. You see, I cannot get into the specifics with you, not until you are older, but I learned something that I stupidly relayed to another."

"What?" he asks, sounding semi-calm for once. "What was it? What'd you tell?"

"Not until you are older, Harry," I answer, frowning towards him. "I wish I could tell you, but I don't want to bring about that evil into your life."

"I already have evil in my life," he argues.

"Not this sort," I reply quietly. "I didn't want either you or your mother to be harmed because of sins from my past, so one night I decided that your mother was better off with James." I watch the boy's eyes narrow on me. "I thought James would keep her safe. I had changed it by deciding this, or so I thought." I know that I do not have the strength to tell Harry this next part by looking him in his mother's green eyes. So my eyes drop to the floor then. "I told your mother that I was done with her. I told her that I didn't want to be with her anymore. I even called her a particularly vulgar name. I then grabbed her by the arm and threw her out into the street, telling her that if she had any sense she'd go back to the ass she married. That I had no further use for her anymore," I admit quietly.

"Why? Why would you tell her that?" The anger has nearly left his voice as he speaks.

"Because I wanted her to go back to James," I answer, glancing up and looking my son in the eyes. "As long as the Dark Lord's acquaintances were still around, I could not be with her fully. I could not protect her and you, Harry. So I sent her back to James, thinking that he would be able to protect the both of you more than I ever could."

"If you loved her so much, why did you give her back? It can't just be because of protection."

"It is, though, Harry." I then sigh. "This part will make more sense when you are older, but for now take my word that I truly thought that you and your mother would be safer with James."

"Did he take her back?"

"Yes, he did. It was later revealed that he had not had an affair. He was sneaking off to visit his two childhood best friends in the middle of the night, reminiscing likely about old times."

"Didn't Mum ever try to learn his side of the story before, though?"

"I'm certain she wondered if it was true, but no she didn't. And before you ridiculously accuse me of keeping her a prisoner, she was free to leave whenever she wished and she was aware of that."

"You say she didn't love you, though. How do you know?"

"We were together only once during her stay. We slept beside each other at night, yes, but it was more out of just wanting to know someone was there than out of some sort of romantic interest."

"Why-why didn't you get me after they died? Why did I have to go to the Dursleys?"

"Because when I held you in my arms for the first time in that birthing room, I promised myself that I would protect you in whatever way I could. The Dark Lord was at the height of his power then. I could not just walk away and leave you and your mother in further danger than before."

"I don't understand. You were there with my mum the day I was born?"

"Yes, it was the Headmaster's idea. He forced your mother and father into allowing me to be present to witness your birth. Your mother nearly destroyed half of Dumbledore's office the way I hear it when he told her." I then sigh. "I do not come from a good family, Harry. My father was abusive, and I am still afraid to this day that I shall become him. I do not wish to harm you. So, I gave you away, thinking that Albus would place you with your godfather or even your father's other friend. Granted, the two each have their downsides, but you would have been loved and safe, relatively speaking."

"Why have you been treating me like crap all these years then?"

"I must keep my Slytherins thinking that I am on their side rather than Dumbledore's. It is a foolish reason of course, and one that I am going to have to attempt to rectify in the upcoming term."

"Why? Why do you have to put them above me?"

"There are some of them that I can reach to prevent them from making my mistake, Harry. For example, Draco, I believe you've met his father."

"Yeah, I met him."

Sighing, I decide to reveal the Malfoy's worst kept secret in the history of the world. "At the height of the war, Lucius Malfoy was close to the top in the Dark Lord's ranks."

"He served that monster?"

"Yes, alongside Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle's fathers," I respond. "Harry, I am trying to keep those boys from following in their fathers' footsteps. That is why I am harsh with the others. Well, partly why I am harsh," I amend. "I favor my own House because Slytherins are typically seen as the House of Evil. No doubt you yourself learned of the prejudice concerning the Slytherin House." I watch him slowly incline his head.

"Each Head of House favors his or her own House. It has just been the way for years. However, there is a deep seeded hatred among the other Houses for Slytherin. My coworkers attempt to remain impartial, but the prejudices slip in constantly. If a Slytherin and a group of Gryffindors were to get into an altercation, nine times out of ten the Slytherin would receive the harsher punishment. No matter if that Slytherin was attacked and harassed daily by the Gryffindors. Think back to that argument between Mr. Malfoy and Mr. Weasley. Now, picture it happening in front of say Professor Flitwick. Who received the harsher punishment?"

"Malfoy," Harry answers. "But he would have deserved it. He called Hermione a slur."

"Oh, yes, I remember," I respond. "And what was my punishment of Mr. Malfoy?"

"Nothing, you didn't give him one."

"That you saw," I point out. "Mr. Malfoy in fact received detention with me where he wrote lines and scrubbed cauldrons for an entire week. You just didn't see that." I then sigh when I see the smirk of satisfaction on Harry's face. "You may believe that it was warranted, but you'd be surprise I'd think if you knew of Mr. Malfoy's true home life. I believe you saw how Lucius punished his house elf."

"He hit him with his cane."

"Yes, well, that house elf is not the only one to have ever had that cane touch his back."

"But—he always goes on about—you're making that up."

"I'd imagine if you spoke to Mr. Weasley's parents, they'd inform you all about purebloods."

"Why are you telling me this?"

"Honestly, I haven't the slightest clue. I'm willfully breaking my confidence with my godson by telling you this. However, I suppose I am attempting to get you to trust me and others."

"If you think I'll start becoming friends with Malfoy, you're wrong."

"I am more so hoping that you will keep in mind his home life and perhaps warning you if there comes a time that Mr. Malfoy must remain with us for some time."

"Does that happen a lot?"

"No, but it depends on numerous factors," I answer. "However, I do happen to know that Draco did attempt to offer a branch of friendship to you once before."

"Yeah, but if what you were saying before is true, then he was just doing that so he and his dad could murder me and make their master happy."

"Mr. Malfoy does not share his father's views, Harry. Perhaps his arrogance, but not his views," I respond, staring at my son. Why on Earth am I trying to beat this Hippogriff into the ground? Those two boys are never going to get along. It would also make Draco an outcast of his own House. I then sigh as I remember Draco's words from our last session. That is why I am doing this. The boy is lonely, and I can see in my son's eyes that he is too. I then hold up a hand to summon the papers that return my full parental rights. "Read this." I watch his face to discern his mood as he reads the parchment.

"I don't understand. What does this mean?"

"I terminated my parental rights for you an hour after you were born. This document returns those rights to me, stating that I am your father in the eyes of the law again." I then sigh before drawing in a breath. "It means that you will never have to live with those wretched Muggles again, nor have to worry about being placed elsewhere. Though, it does come with some drawbacks."

"Like what?"

"Because of my past, the Ministry will likely claim that I forced your mother," I answer.

"I admit that I do not wish for it to come to that, though. I do not wish your mother's or your father's names to be dragged through the dirt like that."

"You call him 'my father,' but you know he isn't."

"While it was only for a short time, he did raise you and love you, Harry. He in fact likely has been more to a father to you than I ever have been. He at least didn't give you away."

"Would you do that again? Would you give me away like that again?"

"No. I will never give you away again. You are my son, my heir."

"Even if the Ministry told you to?" he asks, worry etching his face.

"I would fight them to my very last breath then to keep you by my side." I watch his face crumple slightly before he turns away. "I should never have given you up in the first time."

"And my mother?" he asks. "What about her?"

"Your aunt unfortunately is correct. Lily was happier with James than she ever was with me. We likely could have had joint custody of you. Granted, it would have been difficult, but we could have made it work." I watch him stare at me for a moment before he stands up, looking outraged. "It would not have been a happily ever after, though, Harry. She would have been miserable with me."

"You don't know that."

I don't respond. I just sit there, watching my son. We've come a long way since an hour earlier. Idly, I wonder how we are going to be in the morning. However, I sigh.

"No doubt you're hungry. I shall fix us something, while you get yourself settled in." I then stand, ignoring the cracking and popping of my old joints as I walk towards the hidden staircase. "This leads up to the bedrooms and upstairs bathroom. If you require anything, I shall be down here." I then turn and walk back, allowing him his space.

Once I reach the tiny kitchen, I hang my head as I hear my son's loud footfalls as he races up the rickety old steps, likely to flee from me. Truthfully, I don't blame him. He has gone through a life-changing ordeal. I have gone through a similar ordeal once before when I had learned that I had a perfectly healthy baby boy. Closing my eyes, I think of everything I've missed in his life: his first steps, his first words, his first case of accidental magic, and his reaction to his Hogwarts' letter. Perhaps we can start afresh again and get to know each other, really know each other. But first it's time to cook dinner.