Harry awoke the next morning feeling very…indignant.

Opening his eyes, he blinked in momentary puzzlement and then frowned as the events of the night before sprang to the forefront of his mind.

How dare Snape do…that…to him?! What right did he have, anyway?

He wasn’t his Head of House…or anything like that. Right?

The most he should have been aloud to do was give him a detention and taken points. Right?

Harry frowned up at the blurry canopy of his four-poster bed.

He wondered if he could lodge a complaint against the Potions Master with Professor Dumbledore…maybe even get the man sacked!

Unfortunately, he remembered exactly what Snape had told him about the last time he’d been spanked and who’d done the spanking.

And given the circumstances—being out of bed, out of the castle, in the Forbidden Forest, attempting to duel another student—he wasn’t sure the Headmaster would be so sympathetic to his plight.

Reaching underneath him, Harry felt of his bottom—which no longer stung or burned at all, much to his dismay.

The night before, it had felt as if his entire bum was on fire and it would never stop stinging.

Harry huffed, sighing. How was he supposed to lodge a complaint if there was no proof of abuse?

It just wasn’t fair! And he had a detention tonight, as well.

Great, he thought to himself. That should be loads of fun…not!

Of course, a nagging piece of his mind said, it could have been much worse.

Snape had saved his and Malfoy’s lives last night, as well.

And, he added to himself, he didn’t have you expelled...even though you’d broken enough school rules to warrant it.

Harry bit his lip, wanting to hold onto his righteous indignation…but realized that he more than deserved what he’d gotten and he should count himself lucky it wasn’t much worse.

But it was a spanking—a spanking!—for Merlin’s sakes! And he was eleven, after all.

What he’d told Snape the night before was quite true. It had been the first spanking he’d ever received in his life.

Despite being mean and utterly wretched to Harry for the whole of his life, his relatives had never really been physical abusive towards him.

His uncle, Vernon, ranted and raved and threatened ‘til he turned purple in the face…but that was as far it went.

Harry had always been of the opinion that the man wore himself out threatening him so much, that he didn’t have the energy to dole out a smacking afterwards.

That, and the fact he was sure they thought that by touching him in some way they’d catch his ‘freakiness’.

Apparently, that was not the case with Snape—who had been quite livid over his actions but had neither ranted nor raved—who hadn’t threatened at all.

He’d told him quite clearly he wasn’t going to ‘escape’ punishment and had then doled out said punishment.

Lucky me, Harry thought sourly.

And, he admitted, the man had been neither brutal nor excessive in doling out the smacks, either.

Neville’s alarm clock picked that moment to go off, waking up everybody in the dorm.

Harry’s bed curtains were thrown back, causing blinding light to sting his eyes, and he then felt his glasses thrust into his hands.

Putting them on, he found Ron staring at him eagerly. "Bloody ‘ell, ‘Arry!" his best friend said. "You look rutty awful, mate!"

Harry snorted that. "Good morning to you too, Ron," he told him, sitting up.

Ron jumped onto his bed. "So, what happened?" he asked, smirking wickedly. "Did you beat Malfoy’s arse or what?"

No, Harry grumbled to himself. Snape beat mine!

Okay, maybe not beat…but it had still hurt!

You deserved it, a snide voice that sounded suspiciously like Hermione’s whispered inside his head. You can’t say you didn’t!

Oh, shut up! He growled at it. Who asked you, anyway?

"Not exactly," Harry told Ron, hesitantly.

Ron’s eyes widened. "Don’t tell me he won, ah ‘Arry!" he exclaimed, looking pained.

"No," Harry quickly shook his head. "Nobody won because…we, uh, we never dueled."

"You mean Malfoy chickened out?" Ron asked, snorting. "Why, that little—"

Again, Harry shook his head.

"No, Malfoy actually showed up on time and everything," he told him. "We even went into the Forbidden Forest."

"Then, what happened?" Ron asked, frowning. "Why didn’t you wipe the floor with him?"

Harry started to answer, but just then Neville interrupted.

"You two better get a move on," he told them. "R-Remember, we’ve got p-potions this m-morning!"

Harry groaned at that. Great! Not only was he going to have to face Snape again, but Malfoy as well!

Unfortunately, he didn’t dare not show up for class…otherwise he’d be facing Snape again in an entirely different way.

As he and Ron headed for the bathroom to get ready, he told him, "I’ll tell you and Hermione all about it at breakfast, okay?"

Ron nodded and the two boys quickly got showers, brushed their teeth, and threw on their school uniforms.

Meeting an obviously anxious Hermione in the common room, who quickly rushed to them and gave Harry the once over…as if making sure he was still in one piece.

"Oh, lay off, Hermione, he’s fine!" Ron told her, rolling his eyes. "He and Malfoy didn’t even duel!"

Hermione frowned at that, but also looked slightly relieved.

"Oh, thank Merlin!" she told him. "I was so afraid you were going to get caught!"

"Well," Harry said, biting his lip. "We, uh, we kinda were…by Snape."

"Oh, no!" Hermione gasped at the same time Ron growled, "Bloody ‘ell, mate!"

Harry nodded.

"C’mon," he told them, glancing around as a couple of older students came through. "Let’s go have breakfast and I’ll tell you everything!"

Almost everything, he added silently to himself.

There was no way he was telling his two best friends that their potions professor had actually spanked him.

Entering the Great Hall, he glanced up at the teacher table and found Snape’s intense gaze upon him.

Great, he thought sourly to himself, the man’s gonna be watching me more than ever now!

Having a pseudo-guardian—someone who watched over him constantly—at school just plain sucked.

None of the other kids had to worry about any of the other professors taking a personal interest in them…well, except, maybe Malfoy.

As he and his friends sat down at the Gryffindor table, Harry glanced to see if the blonde haired Slytherin was here yet or not.

He was, and to his surprise, he wasn’t really talking much to anybody. He happened to look up and found his eyes upon him.

For some reason, he blushed at him and then scowled. He quickly averted his gaze back to his food.

Humph, spoiled prat! Harry snorted, but the exchange did confirm something.

He hadn’t been the only one last night to be on the receiving end of Snape’s [seemingly] iron-coated hand.

Good, he thought to himself. Why should I be the only one suffering?

"So, tell us," Ron said, once they’d piled food on their plates and started eating. "What happened, mate?"

Harry sighed, but then told them what had occurred the night before in the Forbidden Forest.

They both gasped when he got to the part of the unicorn.

"Unicorns are sacred animals, Harry," Hermione told him. "To injure or kill one…"

"It’s evil," Ron agreed, nodding. "Bloody evil!"

"Yeah, it was also gross," Harry said, wrinkling his nose. "Malfoy sicked up and so did I…"

"So," Hermione said, "Professor Snape is really an Animagus?"

Harry nodded.

"It was really wicked, actually," he told them about the black stag and how it had scared off whoever or whatever had been beneath that dark cloak.

"And Malfoy actually fainted?" Ron asked, laughing.

Harry smirked at that. Leave it to his best friend to latch onto the least important detail of the story…

"Yeah, he did, but I can’t really blame him," he told them, shuddering. "If my scar hadn’t been hurting so badly, I probably would have too."

"What do you think made your scar hurt like that?" Hermione asked him, curiously.

Harry shrugged. "Beats me," he said, frowning. "Professor Snape gave me a Pain-Relieving potion that made it go away."

"That was nice of him," Hermione said, thoughtfully. "And he didn’t take you to Professor Dumbledore and try to get you expelled?"

"No," Harry said, swallowing. "He, uh, he…gave me detention tonight at seven." Which was true, he had.

"Well, that sucks," Ron said, but then snorted. "Let me guess? Malfoy got off scot-free."

"No," Harry told him. "Professor Snape said he was getting the same punishment as me."

"Yeah, but I bet it won’t be the same," Ron said, glaring. "Snape favors Malfoy, the little prat. He’ll be much worse on you."

I don’t know about that, Harry thought to himself.

He remembered quite clearly that Draco had called Snape ‘uncle’ the night before.

Wouldn’t the professor be a lot harder on his own nephew than just one of his regular students?

After all, whatever Draco did affected his Head of House, as well.

Just then, the mail arrived and Hedwig once again brought him a folded piece of parchment.

It read: Meet me at the entrance at seven sharp for your detention. Wear your best clothes. S. Snape

"What is it, Harry?" Ron asked, curiously. "A note from your family?"

"No," Harry said, folding the note up. "It was just from Professor Snape reminding me about my detention tonight."

"Oh," Ron said, and then went back to eating his bacon and eggs and cereal.

Harry had noticed that the professor’s handwriting matched the handwriting of the first note he’d received on Halloween.

So, Harry thought to himself, he had been the one to send me that note about my parents.

After what the professor had told him last night about him and his mother being good friend during school, it made sense.

The professor clearly still missed Lily a great deal, and had wanted her son to remember the sacrifice she had made for him.

He glanced up at the teacher table, meeting Snape’s dark gaze.

He nodded, acknowledging that he understood the note and would be on time for his detention.

Snape, he noticed, smirked back—a knowing look in his eyes.

Harry groaned, because just then the bell rang signaling it was time to go to class.

Ron sighed. "Well," he said, reluctantly, "we’d best head down to the dungeons. I hate potions!"

Harry quietly agreed—the dreaded class was going to be even more unbearable now, he was sure.

Snape’ll probably be all smug, he thought with a sigh. Greasy bat!

Reaching the dungeons, the three Gryffindors entered the potions classroom to find Professor Snape already there.

He glanced up at their entrance, frowning.

"Well," he said, raising an eyebrow at them. "What are you all standing in the door for? Get in here and takes your seats!"

Harry sighed, but nodded. He, Hermione, and Ron each took seats in the middle of the classroom.

Once everyone was inside and sitting, class began.

As usual, Snape started with the roll, took up homework, and then began his lecture.

"Today," he told them, silkily, "you shall be making the Relative Potion…"

Hermione’s hand shot up at this, her face frowning.

Snape sighed. He hated to be interrupted in the middle of one of his speeches.

"Yes, Granger," he growled at her. "What is it?!"

"Sir?" the mousy haired witch said, hesitantly. "That potion is a very obscure one and according to the text book is rarely—if ever—used today…"

"Yes, I know," Snape told her, rolling his eyes at her. "I am glad, though hardly surprised, that at least one of you bothered to read ahead…"

"Well, Sir?" Hermione spoke up again. "If the potion is not used anymore—why are we learning to brew it?"

"I am not in the habit of explaining my lesson choices to eleven year olds," Snape told her, scowling, "however—if you must know—you are all at the beginning level of your potions brewing mastery. This potion, while not used any longer, is still a simple, basic potion to brew. Furthermore, it uses an ingredient that many other [more] advanced potions use and you must get used to dealing with it."

"What ingredient is that, Sir?" Hermione asked him, her eyes alight with intrigue.

Harry and Ron both groaned at this.

When it came to handling new magical ingredients, learning a new spell or hex, or simply learning something she didn’t already know, the girl could be like a dog with a bone.

"Blood," Snape told them, smirking at the wrinkled looks on some of their faces.

"Specifically," he went on, "you will be using your own blood. The premise for this potion is simple—it is used to determine whether a person is related by blood to another or not. Now, as Miss Granger so thoughtfully pointed out, it is rarely used today. The best example I can give as to how it would be used is perhaps in the matter of an inheritance dispute. Say for example, that some batty old man left his entire fortune to a many removed niece or nephew. Once said inheritor was found this potion would be brewed to determine that they were, indeed, a blood relation to the deceased and not simply some gold-digger looking to strike it rich. Understand?"

"Fascinating," Hermione said, glancing excitedly at Harry and Ron. They didn’t seem to quite share her glee, however.

"Now then," Snape said, and then a wicked smirk crossed his face. "We will be doing things a bit differently today. Instead of partnering with your usual potions partner, you will be partnering with a member from the opposite House—meaning one Slytherin and one Gryffindor per potion."

He received several cries of outrage from all those present—including Harry.

What’s he up to? He couldn’t help but think. Why’s he looking at me like that?

"Since I can see I will have to pair you off myself," Snape said, silkily, "let’s start with the first pairing: Mr. Potter and Mr. Malfoy."

"What!" Harry exclaimed, hearing it echoed from behind him by Malfoy. "You’ve got to be kidding me?!"

Snape glared at them, sternly.

"As you are all aware," he told them, his nostrils flaring dangerously. "I do not ‘kid’ when it comes to potions. Now, quit caterwauling and move! Immediately!"

Harry sighed, gathering up his books and quills and potions stuff to take to the back. Ron and Hermione gave him sympathetic looks as he did so.

He then went and sat down next to Malfoy, who looked even less pleased by this than he was.

Well, Harry grumbled to himself. They say misery loves company. Right?

Snape glared at them a moment, but then went on assigning off new lab partners.

Ron ended up with Crabbe. Hermione ended up with Milicent Bulstrode. And poor Neville was partnered with Goyle—who was so clueless he didn’t even know which class he was in half the time.

"Great," he heard Malfoy mutter sourly to himself. "Its official—he really is trying to kill us."

Harry snorted at that, actually smirking at the blonde haired Slytherin.

"He could have at least found an easier way of doing it," he whispered to him. "They’ll probably take out half the castle!"

Malfoy snickered, nodding in agreement, but then remembered to whom he was talking and then sniffed in disdain.

"Shut up, Potter," he growled at him, sourly.

Harry felt his temper rise at that. He’d only been responding to something he’d said, after all…

He opened his mouth to make a scathing reply, but a large shadow crossing over him caused him to look up.

Professor Snape glared down at the two of them.

"I would suggest you two get busy and began brewing," he instructed them sternly. "I expect a perfectly brewed potion by the end of class—in forty five minutes!"

"Sir?" Harry asked him, curiously. "Is this part of our punishment?"

Snape smirked. "In a sense," he told them. "The two of you nearly died last night due to your utter inability to cooperate and get along. I intend to correct that—forcibly, if necessary."

"But…" Malfoy started to protest, but quickly shut his mouth at the stern look on Snape’s face.

"No buts, Mr. Malfoy," he told him. "You two will learn to at least tolerate each other and remain civil when in each other’s presence—even if you must be partnered together for the rest of your Hogwarts careers!"

Harry’s eyes widened that. Seven years of having to sit by Malfoy! No way, it was not gonna happen!

"W-We’ll cooperate, Sir," he told the potions master, quickly.

Malfoy also looked horrified by the prospect. He nodded his head in full agreement.

Snape snorted. "I’m glad to hear it," he told them. "Now, get started! You now only have forty minutes to complete the potion!"

With that, he turned and headed back up to the front of the classroom. Harry glanced at Malfoy.

"Truce, for now?" he asked him, holding out his hand. "But only for the next forty minutes, of course."

Malfoy nodded. "Of course," he told him, smirking. "After that, all bets are off."

"Agreed," Harry said, and they shook hands. Then, they got to work on brewing the potion.

For the next thirty-five minutes, everyone worked diligently while Snape walked around and commented, as he usually did.

Whenever he would stop in front of them, he’d pause but wouldn’t say anything, smirk, and then go on.

"Okay," Harry said, after Malfoy had added the powdered Newt to the potion. "All that’s left is to add the blood."

He picked up the small needle and handed it to him.

"You want to go first?" he asked, smirking. "Or should I? I mean, I’d hate for you to faint again and all…"

"Up yours, Potter," Malfoy snapped, snatching the needle. "I’m not afraid of a little blood!"

He quickly pricked his thumb, wincing, and then allowed a drop of his red ‘blue’ blood to fall into the potion.

"Now, you," he smirked, "or are you going to moan and groan like a baby again?"

"Stuff it," Harry growled, snatching the needle back. He also pricked his thumb and let a drop of blood fall into the potion.

"There," he said, stirring it. "The potions done, now we can—" He trailed off, his eyes widening in shock.

Malfoy too had gone quite pale, staring wide-eyed at their potion.

According to the recipe, once the blood was added the potion would either do one of two things.

Either it wouldn’t change color—meaning the two people weren’t related by blood to each other.

Or it would—meaning that they were.

Their potion had been the color it said it was supposed to be before their blood was mixed in: a dark green.

Once there blood had been added, however, it had turned a bright yellow. Which meant…

"T-That can’t be right," Harry stammered, swallowing hard.

"Y-You must have added something wrong, Potter!" Malfoy said, glaring at him.

"Me!" Harry exclaimed, angrily. "More than likely it was you, you—"

"What is the meaning of this?!" Snape snapped at them, glaring down at them with his arms crossed.

Harry and Malfoy glared at each other, but then glanced up at the professor.

"He did something!" Malfoy accused. "He messed up our potion!"

"No, he did," Harry growled back. "Because there’s no way…" He shook his head, not finishing his statement.

"I can’t be related to him!" both boys exclaimed at the exact same time, pointing at the other.

Snape frowned deeply at that, but then glanced at their potion. His black eyes widened in complete and utter shock, as well.

"T-There is nothing wrong with y-your potion," he told them, abruptly.

"But, Professor!" Both boys exclaimed at the same time.

"Be quiet!" Snape snapped at them, his eyes moving back and forth rapidly.

It almost looked as if he were…counting….or something.

Why would he be doing that? Harry wondered silently.

Suddenly, he spun around and snapped, "Longbottom! Goyle! Have you added the blood to your potion yet?"

"N-No, S-Sir," Neville stammered at him. "W-W w-were about to…"

"Do not worry about it," Snape snapped at them. "I need to borrow your potion!" Just then, the bell sounded for the end of class.

"Potter, Malfoy, do not move," he hollered. "The rest of you put your potions on my desk and get out!"

"B-But…" Neville stammered, his eyes wide with fear. He didn’t want to fail the assignment for the day.

"Do not fret," Snape told him and Goyle. "I will know if you brewed it correctly. You’ll be given full credit, I assure you."

"We will?" Goyle exclaimed, smiling.

Neither he nor Neville had received full credit on a class assignment the nearly two and half months they had been attending the class!

"Yes," Snape assured them. "Now, go!" He pointed to the door.

Hermione and Ron were glancing at Harry curiously.

"You guys go on," he told them. "I’ll be all right."

"A-All right, Harry," Hermione said, eyeing the professor curiously.

"Yeah, mate," Ron said, not liking this at all. "Are you sure?"

"I am, Weasley," Snape growled at him. "Now, out! Before I take points!"

Ron and Hermione quickly headed out of the classroom.

Once everyone was gone, Snape brought a small sample of the potion Neville and Goyle had been working over in a small cylinder.

Setting it down, he picked up the needle and pricked his finger—letting a drop of blood fall into the potion.

"Give me your unpricked thumb, Potter," Snape told him. "Now!"

Harry did so, not wanting to aggravate the man any further. He still had detention with him that night, after all.

The professor pricked his thumb and let another drop of blood fall into the potion to join his own.

He then stirred. Harry and Malfoy both watched as once again the potion turned from green to yellow.

Snape’s eyebrows rose clear to his forehead, and he went even paler than usual.

With a wave of his wand summoned the chair from behind his desk. He collapsed into it, his head in his hands.

Harry swallowed. "W-What does it mean, Sir?" he asked him, hesitantly.

"Y-Yeah, Uncle Sev," Malfoy stammered beside him. "W-What does it mean?"

Snape looked up at them, his black eyes haunted.

"It means, Harry," he told him, quietly. "That I am your father."

HPHPHPHP

"WHAT!?"

Severus winced at the two nearly identical exclamations that shot out of both of the boys in front of him.

"Please, boys," he told them, wearily. "Do not shout—I have just received quite a shock myself, you know."

Oh, Lily, he thought to himself in anguish. How could not have told me? How could you have let me think…

Harry was shaking is head in complete and utter disbelief.

"B-B-But that’s not possible!" he yelled, outraged. "You can’t be my dad!"

"Actually, it’s very possible," Severus told him, matter-of-factly, "and that is proof."

He pointed to the potion.

"Maybe it was a mistake…" Harry stammered, his eyes wide.

"Even if you and Draco had made a mistake with your potion—which you didn’t—Misters Longbottom and Goyle did not," Severus told him, bluntly. "For once, they both managed to brew a perfect potion."

If I’d known that, he snorted to himself, I’d have partnered the two of them together two months ago!

Sighing, he stood up. "Come with me, boys" he told them, "and I will attempt to explain some things…"

"But what about our next class, Uncle Sev?" Draco asked him, worriedly.

"Do not worry," he told him, gently. "I’ll write you a note—for both of you. Now, come."

With that, he turned and headed out of the potions classroom. He glanced back once, just to make certain the boys were following him.

Harry looked as if he were in shock.

Not that I can blame him, Severus thought, I’m rather shocked myself…

But there could simply be no other explanation for why the boys’ potion had changed colors.

The Potters and the Malfoys were deadly enemies and had been so for more than three hundred years!

There had not been a marriage between them in all that time.

The Malfoys only ever married purebloods, while the Potters predominately tended to marry half-blood or muggleborns.

There was no interconnection at all between the two families.

The only way that Harry and Draco could possibly be related by blood was through him.

The moment he’d seen the potion, the thought came unbidden into his mind and he immediately began thinking things through.

Harry had been born exactly nine months to the day from the night he’d been hit with that curse.

He and Lily had made love that night—before he’d been summoned to the battle.

He was in that magical coma for five months…and Harry was born four months after he’d come back.

At the time, he’d been too grief-stricken over losing Lily that he had not even bothered to think things through clearly.

It never occurred to him the baby she carried might possibly be his…

But Lily must have known. She must have.

So, he thought with deep regret in his heart, why didn’t she tell me?

Even if she had thought him dead when she married Potter, why would she deny him his son?

They had talked about starting a family for years—she knew how much having a child or children meant to him.

Damn it, Lily! He thought suddenly furious with his beloved. I had a right to know!

Entering his quarters, he glanced at the two boys. "Leave your bags by the door and sit on the sofa," he instructed them, hanging up his teaching robes on the hook. "I’ll be right back."

He then went and retrieved the photo album from his beside table.

Rejoining the two boys in the sitting room, he sat down in his favorite chair and rested the album on his lap.

He glanced at the two boys, who were sitting as far apart as they could from each other.

They look like opposing bookends, Severus thought with a chuckle. They are both small for their age, stubborn, willful, and brilliant. The only difference is their hair and eyes.

"Harry," Severus said, gaining the young Gryffindor’s attention. "Do you remember what I told you last night? About your mother and I?"

The boy nodded. "Y-Yes, Sir," he answered, hesitantly. "You told me you were neighbors as kids. That you were best friends here at Hogwarts."

"That’s right, we were," Severus said, "but we we’re much more than that. You see, three years after we’d finished school, we were married."

"What?!" Draco exclaimed, shocked. "Uncle Sev, y-you married a…a…Mudblood!?"

Severus eyes nearly bulged and he stood up, glaring daggers at his nephew.

Taking out his wand, he flicked it at the impudent Slytherin. Draco immediately began sputtering and spitting out soap suds.

"Never," Severus growled at the errant boy, "refer to her like that again! Do you hear me, Draco Lucius Malfoy?"

Draco nodded, still sputtering. He’s eyes were beginning to water, and he looked up pleadingly.

Severus snorted, but then flicked his wand. The soap disappeared from Draco’s mouth, but the taste remained.

A reminder, brat, he thought savagely. You should know by now I don’t tolerate profanity!

"I don’t understand," Harry said, frowning. "What was that word?"

"It is a nasty, spiteful, and very dirty word used to slander muggleborn witches and wizards," Severus informed him.

Harry glared at Draco. "Don’t insult my mum, Malfoy," he growled at him. "Otherwise I’ll kick your—"

"Harry James!" Severus growled, raising his wand. "Do you neeed a reminder, too?"

The dark haired boy quickly shook his head. "No, Sir," he said, quietly. "I’m sorry."

"I know you’re upset," Severus told him, "but taking it out on your cousin won’t help."

The two boys’ eyes all but bulged out of their sockets at the word ‘cousin’ and both sent the other glares.

Had the situation not been so serious, he would have laughed. He held up the album.

"These are the pictures from our wedding," Severus told him, handing the book to the young Gryffindor.

Harry took it and began looking through it. Despite himself, Draco scooted closer to look out of curiosity. He then glanced at him, questioningly.

"How come I never knew you were married, Uncle Sev?" he asked him. "Does Father and Mother know?"

"Hardly," Severus snorted. "Lily and I kept our marriage private—only a handful of our closest family and friends knew about it."

Harry glanced up. "But then, where did my…uh, James, I mean…well, you know."

"Three and half years after we were married," Severus told him, quietly.

"Why?" Harry asked. "Did you and Mum get a divorce or something?"

"No, not exactly" Severus told him, quietly. "Tell me, Harry, how much you know about…the Dark Lord?"

Draco gasped at that, his blue eyes widening. Harry frowned. "You mean Vol—?" he started to ask.

"Don’t say his name!" Severus and Draco exclaimed at the same time.

"You-Know-Who, then," Harry said, and he nodded. "Not much—except that he was a dark wizard and that he killed my—uh, parents. Why?"

"In order to understand what went on between me and your mother," Severus told him, "you must understand a little more about my past."

Harry nodded. "All right, Sir," he said. "I’m listening."

"Yeah," Draco added. "Me, too."

Severus nodded. "Very well," he said, taking a deep breath. "I am a half-blood. My mother was once Eileen Prince—the Princes are an old pureblood family, Harry—before she was forced into an arranged marriage to Abraxas Malfoy—your grandfather, Draco—and gave him a son."

"My father," Draco said, quietly.

"Oh, so that’s how you’re his uncle," Harry said, understanding. "I’d wondered…"

"Indeed," Severus went on. "At any rate, Abraxas was a mean old man who did nothing but beat her…so she left him. She left the wizarding world completely, actually. She went to live in Muggle London where she eventually met my father, Tobias Snape. They married and I was born. We lived in a small mill town on a street called Spinner’s End."

"Did Mum live there, too?" Harry asked him, curiously. "You said you were neighbors, right?"

"Right," Severus told him, "though she and her family moved there when she was eight. But I’ll get to that in a moment. Now, my parents were strict yet fair and they tried their best to give me the best of both my heritages. I first met Lily when she and your aunt were playing at the park. She did a bout of accidental magic and I knew immediately that she was a witch—and I told her so."

"Did she think you were crazy?" Harry asked, smiling. "I thought Hagrid was nuts when he first told me I was a wizard, anyway."

"No, actually, she didn’t," Severus told him. "Apparently, it was not the first time something ‘strange’ had happened to her. Now, your aunt Petunia was a regular bi—uh, that is…she was not very nice."

Harry snorted. "Tell me about it," he grumbled, rolling his eyes. "So, you and Mum became friends?"

Severus nodded. "From that moment on, we were nearly inseparable," he told him, seriously. "We did everything together—and it drove Petunia mad." He chuckled.

"Well, a couple of years after this we received our Hogwarts letters," Severus told him. "We’re both very excited, as you can imagine."

"Did Mum want to be sorted into Gryffindor?" Harry asked, curiously.

"She wasn’t certain, actually," Severus told him. "I, however, was almost certain I knew which House I’d be in."

"Slytherin," Draco said, proudly.

"Yes, as my mother had been and all the other Princes were," Severus said, smirking.

"So," Harry said, hesitantly, "you were excited about coming to school, then? Mum, too."

"Your mother most certainly was," Severus told him. "I was actually rather glad to be getting away from home, as well."

"Why?" Harry asked. "You said your parents were nice—just strict."

Severus sighed.

"Right before I was to start Hogwarts, my father lost his job," he explained. "He was—I suppose still is--a very man’s man, as it were, and had always worked with his hands. He had chose work over school so he had no other skills by which to fall back on. Labor-type jobs were very scarce at that time—as Muggle Britian was suffering through a recession—and he was unable to find work anywhere. He grew depressed, bitter, and angry. He also began to drink—and when he was drunk he could be very mean and hurtful. He and my mother began to fight a lot."

"Mother and Father do that, too," Draco said, quietly. "I hate it when they do."

"I did, too," Severus told him, "which is why I was eager to begin my wizard training. Unfortunately, the moment I stepped onto the train I was harassed by these two other boys—Sirius Black and James Potter—as was Lily."

"But everybody says James was real nice," Harry said, frowning.

Severus snorted.

"James was everybody’s favorite," he told him, rolling his eyes. "He could be very charismatic and charming and look right at you to tell you a bold faced lie. He had nearly everybody wrapped around his little finger—everyone except Lily and myself. Now, I will say this, he did [eventually] outgrow some of his more immature ways…"

"But it still didn’t change what he’d done," Harry said, quietly.

Severus narrowed his eyes at the boy. "The voice of experience, Harry?" he asked him, concerned.

The boy shrugged. "My cousin, Dudley, used to gang up on me with his friend," he told him, quietly. "It doesn’t matter…"

"It does," Severus told him, firmly. "Bullying of any kind is wrong—something you need to learn, Draco—and those victims of bullies have every right to feel angry and hurt. I know I certainly did. It also helps to have someone to talk to—I had your mother, for example. She also detested what James and his friends did."

"I, uh, I guess I could talk to Hermione," Harry said, biting his lip. "Ron probably wouldn’t understand."

Draco snorted. "There’s a big surprise," he muttered, rolling his eyes.

Harry opened his mouth to make a retort, but Severus silenced him with a hand. He then glared at Draco, who blushed.

"Uh, sorry," he said, glancing away from his uncle…and cousin.

"Anyway," Severus continued, clearing his throat, "Lily was Sorted into Gryffindor and I into Slytherin—as you know. Despite that, our friendship only grew stronger and stronger. Our affection towards each other intensified with each passing year…all the way up to our fifth year."

"Wasn’t that when Grandmother died?" Draco asked, frowning. "Mother told me something like that, anyway…"

"Yes," Severus said, sadly. "My father’s drinking only grew worse—though he was never truly violent or abusive with either my mother or me—and it hurt my mother to see him like that. She even contemplated leaving him once, I know, but for whatever reason she never did. The year I turned fifteen, the summer before my fifth year at Hogwarts, my parents were in an accident—an accident caused by my father’s drunkenness. My mother was killed and he was arrested. He was found guilty and sentenced to seven years in prison."

"That’s awful," Harry said, shaking his head. "What about you, though?"

"He moved into Malfoy Manor," Draco told him, obviously familiar with this part of the tale.

"That is correct," Severus said, sighing. "Despite having no blood ties to me himself, Abraxas Malfoy invited me to live with his family. ‘After all,’ he told me, ‘you are my son’s younger brother.’ I had known Lucius, of course, though he was five years ahead of me in school and therefore had already graduated at this time. He became a big influence in my life…though even more so after what happened with Lily."

"What happened?" Harry asked, his green eyes widening.

"My mother’s death hit me hard, as you can imagine," Severus told him, "and left me feeling very vulnerable and alone. I became very emotional, though I tried not to let it show, and as such the pranks played on me by Potter and his friends got to me. After one such incident, the most humilitating prank they’d ever pulled, you mother jumped to my defense but instead of being appreciative about it I snapped at her in anger. Your mother’s feelings were hurt by this and she told me our friendship was over. She refused to speak to me for two years after that."

"That must have hurt," Harry said, sadly. "I’d hate it if Ron and Hermione stopped speaking to me."

"Friends are overrated," Draco snorted.

"Everyone needs someone, Draco," Severus told him. "Even you, dragonling."

Draco blushed at the use of his nickname, but didn’t say anything else.

"Now we come to the part of the story I am most ashamed of," Severus told them, a pained expression on his face. "Without my mother or yours to confide in, I felt utterly wretched and miserable. That was when Lucius began to act very ‘brotherly’ towards me. He would play chess with me at night, help me with my homework, and would even help me brew potions sometimes. I grew to trust him, and as such didn’t think anything of it when he asked me to join a group he belonged to."

Draco paled. "The Death Eaters," he whispered, biting his lip. "You-Who-Know-Who’s followers…"

Harry wrinkled his nose. "You dad actually joined a group led by him?!" He asked, disgusted.

Draco scowled at him. "Your father wasn’t perfect, either, Potter," he growled, but then glanced at him. "Uh, I mean…"

Severus chuckled, shaking his head.

"I know what you meant, Draco," he told him, gently. "Yes, Harry, the Dark Lord led this group. I had always had a fascination with the Dark Arts and the Death Eaters promised me they could teach me things I’d never learn from textbooks. Eager to belong somewhere, I readily latched onto them and joined."

With this, he reached and rolled up the sleeve of his right arm.

He tapped it with his wand and tattoo appeared: A skull with a serpent intertwined between the empty eye sockets.

Harry wrinkled his nose. "That’s kinda gross," he said, disgusted.

Draco gasped. "The Dark Mark," he hissed, wincing. "F-Father has one too…but how did you manage to hide it?"

"It took me years to find a way to conceal it," Severus told him. "The Mark is permanent, I am afraid. I am forever branded with my shame…"

He tapped his arm again and the tattoo disappeared from sight once again.

"It is still there," he told them, "but this makes it so I don’t have to constantly conceal my arms…especially during the summer."

"That’s awful," Harry said, "why would You-Know-Who do that to his…uh…followers?"

"Because he is evil and depraved, Harry," Severus told him, "but I am afraid I did not learn that until later. For two years, I was a member of the Death Eaters—the middle of fifth year til the middle of my seventh year, in fact—and believed them to be merely what they seemed to be: a small group of malcontents. Unfortunatley, they were more than that. Just before Christmas break of my seventh year, Lucius informed me that since I was of age I could begin to participate in more…group activities."

Severus paused. Should he tell them the rest?

"What happened?" Harry asked, swallowing. "Please, Sir, I want to know…"

Severus nodded.

I only hope this does not give you nightmares, he thought to himself. Minerva will have my ass if you do!

"This ‘activity’ as it turned out involving going to a muggle home," Severus said. "There was a young woman—a red haired teenager—home alone that night. She reminded me strongly of your mother, Harry. I will not tell you what all occurred, but needless to say Lucius and his friends did terrible things to that poor girl that night…and there was nothing I could do to stop them. It sickened me to the very depths of my soul and it was then that I realized just how evil and depraved the Death Eaters were…especially my own brother."

He glanced at Draco apologetically. The boy merely smirked back at him.

"I know Father’s a bastard, Uncle Sev," the blonde boy told him. "Hell, everybody knows that!"

"Indeed," Severus said, sighing. This once he would not comment on the boy’s language.

Lucius is a bastard, he couldn’t help but think to himself. Unfortunatley, he’s a smart bastard!

"After it was over," Severus said, trying very hard not to remember the poor girl lying in a pool of her own blood, "I confronted Lucius and told him just what I thought of him and his friends. He was not…pleased…to say the least. He…he used Crucio upon me and told me to get back to school where I belonged…since I obviously did not yet have the balls of a full grown man yet…."

"What’s Crucio?" Harry asked, hesitantly.

"An Unforgivable," Draco answered him. "It a curse that sends shocks of electricity and pain through your entire body."

"There are only three curses known by the term Unforgivable, Harry," Severus explained to him. "Crucio is one, then there is a charm that grants the caster the ability to control another’s mind, and the last—the last was used to give you your scar."

"The Killing Curse," Draco said, shuddering. "Only one person has ever survived it." He glanced over at Harry.

"Me," Harry sighed, reaching up touch his forehead. "The bloody Boy-Who-Lived!"

Severus raised an eyebrow at that. It seemed the boy wasn’t as ‘fame’ seeking as he had thought.

"Any one caught using the Unforgivables," he told Harry, "their wand is immediately snapped, they are arrested, and sent to the wizard’s prison Azkaban for the rest of their lives."

"Wow," Harry said, swallowing and then glanced at Draco. "How come your dad’s not there?"

Draco snorted. "Because he’s never been caught," he told him, rolling his eyes. "He’s very…friendly…with the Minister, too."

"At any rate," Severus continued his story, "it was as I lay at my own brother’s feet in agony that I realized Lucius never cared about me—as a brother, as a friend, not even as a comrade—I was just a tool for him, a pawn he could manipulate and control. The realization was nearly, if not more so, as painful as the curse he’d hit me with. In that moment, I knew that I was truly and utterly alone and unwanted."

"I’m sorry, Uncle Sev," Draco told him, quietly. There were tears in his blue eyes.

Harry also gazed at him with sympathy, but he could not bare to see the look in those green eyes.

"After Lucius had left and the pain subsided," Severus said, glancing down at his lap, "I returned to Hogwarts…where I did a very foolish thing. I tried to jump off he astronomy tower."

"B-But why?" Draco asked, shocked.

"Because I was alone and I felt I nothing to truly live for," Severus told him, quietly. "Believe me, I am ashamed of it now and realize how utter reckless it was."

"D-Did somebody stop you?" Harry asked him, curiously. "I mean, I know you didn’t do it…"

"Two people, actually," Severus told him, smirking. "The first was Professor Dumbledore. Just as I was about to climb on the parapet, I was grabbed from behind and turned around. I…I had never seen the Headmaster look so forbidding as he did in that moment…nor have I seen it since. Unfortunately, I was too distraught and caught up in my own self-pity that his inference made me angry. I began fighting him, cursing at him, and I think I even tried to knee him once…"

"You didn’t?!" Harry and Draco both exclaimed at the same time, exchanging shocked looks of dismay.

Severus chuckled. "I did, and he was not happy with me for it," he told them. "Do you remember what I told you last night, Harry, about the last time I was spanked?"

Harry nodded. "You mean…?" he asked, blushing. "That’s when it happened?"

"Oh, yes," Severus said, wincing. "The Headmaster saw I wasn’t thinking clearly and needed to ‘jolt’ me back into my right mind very quickly. He ‘jolted’ me, all right, right over his knee and thrashed my behind ‘til I couldn’t sit for a week!"

"Wow," Draco said. "Who knew Dumbledore had it in him?" Harry nodded in agreement with him.

"Professor Dumbledore," Severus told him, firmly, "is a man with many layers. There is much more to him than meets the eye, trust me."

"Who was the other person?" Harry asked him, curiously. "You said there were two."

"The other was Lily," Severus told him, smiling. "She had been the one to alert Dumbledore to my plight, as it turned out. She had seen me when I returned, saw the haunted look in my eyes, and feared the worst. Once Dumbledore had ‘jolted’ me back to myself, I burst into tears and told him everything. I asked him not to expel me, that I was sorry, and that I nowhere else to go. I was alone."

"What did he say?" Harry and Draco asked at the same time. Both were practically sitting on the edge of their seats.

"He said nothing," Severus told them. "It was Lily he answered me. She knelt down beside me, even though I begged her to leave—as I did not wish her to see me in such a state—but she wouldn’t. She merely told me I wasn’t alone, that I still had her, and that…she loved me. Then, she kissed me."

"Wow," Harry said, smiling. "Gross…but wow!"

Severus chuckled at that.

"It was far from gross, young man," he told him, smiling. "You will see in a few years, I assure you."

"Yeah, yeah," the boys answered, shaking their head.

"After that," Severus said, shrugging, "we talked—a long, long time. Dumbledore even excused us from classes the next day, since we had talked almost the entire night. I told Lily how sorry I was and she told me she hadn’t stopped caring about me and that had gotten over her anger long ago. We became a couple that night—and our relationship blossomed over the next three years after we left Hogwarts. Then, we were married."

Harry opened the album again, glancing at their wedding picture. "You look so happy," he said, quietly.

"We were," Severus assured him. "We were very happy."

"Then, what happened?" Draco asked, frowning. "How’d she’d end with that prat Potter?"

"Hey!" Harry exclaimed, glaring.

"Well, he was," Draco snapped, defensively.

"Enough, boys," Severus told him, firmly. "After we were married, Dumbledore gave us positions—as I said—here at the school, but he also asked me to perform one other task that upset Lily very much. He asked me to re-enter the Death Eaters and spy on them."

"Wasn’t that dangerous?" Harry asked him, frowning.

"Very," Severus nodded, "which is why your mother was opposed to it. Unfortunately, I knew them better than anyone else and knew I could find the information Dumbledore needed to finally end the Dark Lord’s reign of terror forever. Despite this, however, Lily and I continued to have a happy marriage. Until…until the night nine months before your birth, Harry…I was summoned to a battle ensuing between the Death Eaters and the Aurors. I was hit with stunning curse…an advanced one…that left me in a magical coma for five months."

Severus sighed. "The ministry declared me dead," he told them, "and by the time I returned Lily had married James Potter and was about to have you, Harry."

"So," Harry said, "you never knew about me?"

Severus shook his head. "No, your mother never told me," he said, "and as I said…losing her hurt me so much I was nearly crippled with grief. It wasn’t until today that I even contemplated the possibility that you could be mine."

"Is that why you’re always so snarky to me, then?" Harry asked him, curiously. "Because you thought I was James’ son and you hated him for how he treated you at school."

"Not to mention stealing your wife," Draco snorted, shaking his head.

"He did not technically steal her, Draco," Severus said, sighing. "And if by ‘snarky’ you mean overly stern, then yes. That was part of the reason, I suppose…thought the bigger part is your recklessness. Last night was a prime example of that as well as the troll and broom incidents before that."

Harry nodded, swallowing. "T-Thank you for explaining everything," he told him, quietly. "I appreciate it."

"I know this is a shock, Harry," Severus told him, quietly, "and there is much still to discuss…"

"But we need to get to class," Draco said, quickly. "We’ve already missed two already. McGonagall will have our hides if we’re late for hers!"

Severus snorted. "Indeed," he said, chuckling, "but you are correct. We can talk more this evening."

Standing up, he flicked his wand and two pieces of parchment appeared on the side table beside his chair.

He handed one to each boy. "Give this to McGonagall," he instructed them. "It’ll let you make up any work you missed."

"Thanks, Uncle Sev," Draco said at the same time Harry said, "Thank you, Sir."

The dark haired boy set the album down on the side table and then followed Draco to the opening.

They retrieved their backpacks. "Oh, and boys?" Severus called after them, regaining their attention.

"Yes, Sir?" both boys turned to look at him, curiously.

"Do not forget to be in the entrance hall tonight at seven," he told them, seriously. "Your detention hasn’t changed."

"Yes, Sir," Harry told him, echoed by Draco. Then, the turned and headed out the door.

Once they were gone, Severus dropped into his favorite chair and placed his hands on his head.

He still couldn’t quite believe it. The Boy-Who-Lived…was his son. His…not Potters!

He sighed.

SSSSSSSSSS

In her hospital room, the sleeping red headed witch named Lily began to stir…