Ron stared at his friend, who was now knocked out on the floor.

“Ron!” Hermione hissed. “Don’t just stand there; do something!”

Ron nodded and dropped to the floor where he started slapping Harry across the face. “Come on, Harry,” he muttered.

Hermione rolled her eyes at the red-haired teenager and got a bit of water from the sink. She splashed it on Harry’s face and almost immediately the Boy-Who-Lived came to.

“Umm, hey guys,” he said slowly as he carefully sat up. Ron stood and offered Harry a hand, which he took, sweeping the parchment off the table and into his pocket as soon as he was standing.

“What’s that?” Hermione narrowed her eyes.

“I’ll tell you later,” Harry muttered, looking at the door where Remus was coming in.

Hermione nodded with a little sniff. “Okay, as long as you tell us why you blocked our letters then too.”

Harry quickly agreed, wondering how he was going to get out of that one. “Hey, Moony,” he greeted his old friend who was now before him.

Remus smiled softly and pulled Harry into a hug. “Harry. It’s good to see you.”

“You too, Remus,” Harry grinned. He stuck his hand in his pocket and pulled out a miniature of his trunk. “Umm, can someone show me where my room is?” Harry asked. “I could go ahead and unpack my stuff and everything.”

Remus quickly interceded Hermione’s ready response. “Harry, I know you want to go ahead and unpack, but how about you just drop your stuff off and then go meet everyone. They’re downstairs in the basement. I heard you come in and told them to wait so you wouldn’t be stampeded.”

“Alright,” Harry nodded. “You want to walk me up there, Remus?”

“Sure,” the man agreed, glancing curiously at Ron and Hermione. Apparently, he had missed some altercation as he made his way upstairs from the basement. Harry seemed reluctant to be alone with his friends, and his old students had informed him that Harry had blocked their letters.

Ron and Hermione gave Harry accusatory glares, which he carefully ignored as he exited the room with Remus. As they climbed the creaky staircase, Harry glanced around. The house seemed much cleaner than it had, not looking nearly as dark as it used to. As Harry glanced back down the stairs, he realized that the house elf heads were gone from the wall, and the troll leg umbrella stand Tonks always tripped over was missing too.

Remus saw him looking. “At the end of the school year,” he explained, “I came back here. I was alone for a while, and I was bored. So I cleaned. A lot. It helped-“ his voice broke “-deal with things, you know.”

Harry nodded solemnly. “Yeah, work did help. I think I beat Hermione doing that homework this summer.”

Remus gave a small smile. “Yeah, Ron’s still working on some of it. He’s managed to enlist Hermione’s help since school’s back in session soon and he’s so desperate.”

Harry smirked, muttering, “Typical.”

Remus stared when he heard the smirk in Harry’s voice. They were at the landing now, and Harry was looking at him strangely.

“What’s up, Remus? You look odd.” Harry tried not to fidget, remembering how much Sal had nagged him about it.

Remus rubbed his forehead before tugging his hand through his hair much like James used to do. “I don’t know. For a moment there, you looked like someone else- but that couldn’t possibly be right.” The werewolf hesitated, looking at Harry before sighing. “It must have been a trick of the light; it was just my imagination.”

Harry was silent for a moment, considering. After a moment, he decided Remus could be trusted and probed him further. “Who did I look like, Remus?” he asked, feigning innocent curiosity. Salazar would have been so proud.

Remus shifted his weight to his other foot. “It may sound crazy,” he said, “but you looked like Severus Snape.”

Harry looked at Remus with a glint in his eye. “Why would that sound crazy, Remus?”

Remus looked at Harry, carefully attempting to conceal his surprise. What was Harry trying to say? He was James’ son; Remus was sure of it. He knew how much Lily and James had loved each other; there was no way that Severus Snape could have fathered Harry.

Harry backed into his room, still smirking in a very familiar way as he pulled a piece of parchment out of his pocket.

“Come in, Remus,” Harry quietly instructed, nervously fingering his sleeves. “Shut the door.”

Remus saw Harry’s anxiety; indeed, his werewolf senses actually smelled it. He obeyed Harry’s request, allowing the door to close with a small click.

Harry unfolded the parchment with hands that he tried to make stop shaking.

“Remus, today I took a Heritage potion. As you may know, this potion forces the drinker to write down his or her own heritage, planting the unknown information in their head so it can be written. My results,” he swallowed, “were somewhat surprising.”

Harry handed the paper to Remus. Remus quickly scanned it. Right as the werewolf’s eyes landed on Snape’s name, Harry said, “Apparently, Severus Snape is my father.”

Remus gaped. After a few minutes, when he found his voice again, he choked out a question. “How is this possible?”

“Excellent question,” Hermione’s voice said unsteadily as she appeared in the doorway next to a bewildered Ron.