“Once, there was a raven and his little fawn. The raven loved the fawn more than anything in this world, was willing to do anything in order to keep him safe and warm. The raven couldn’t imagine life without his child.

Everyone in the jungle was after their blood, from hunters to monsters to wise old monks. They wanted the fawn, to defeat the shadow for them. A child facing Evil. The raven couldn’t allow that, so when the stag begged and pleaded on his deathbed, the raven struck, took the baby, and flew on, to places where nobody knew their names or his crimes.

The fawn grew up alone, but he was safe, that’s all that mattered to the raven, they were safe and the fawn loved him as much as he loved the child. He was something he had never imagined to be, a father.

But luck wasn’t always on their side, from the massacre to the wild warriors and paper frogs. Then came the wolf and the mutt.

The raven should have known, secrets were never eternal, because they only ever had more than one participant, and the other one, even from beyond the grave was opening up, whether the raven liked it or not.

The wolf found his fawn. The wolf tricked his fawn, lured him away from the safety of the raven’s wings, and unearthed the secret that never should have been. The fawn was horrified.

The raven knew that once the fawn found out the secret then he wouldn’t be his raven anymore. The fawn would love him no longer, he would turn away and join the wolf, and the mutt, the ‘friends’ who claimed to be family in disguise.

The fawn found out, and the raven could not behold the storm that came hurtling toward them as a result.

***


Severus’s forefinger tapped the worn cloth of the armchair with rapid speed. It was the only outlet he was allowing his body in the face of a tremendous, yet irrational fear that was gripping his mind.

Harry was late. His curfew was twenty minutes ago. He was late. By twenty minutes. And thirty seconds.

Severus was being embarrassingly illogical, he knew that thus he didn’t allow himself to fret about a twenty-minute delay as he most certainly should have, had he not had had a massive argument about boundaries with his son only a few weeks ago.

Harry was a teenager. Harry needed freedom, and the company that Severus could in no way substitute for, Severus as a parent and an experienced teenager who survived adulthood, sympathized with that notion. Harry, as delicate as his situation was, needed to have others around him, he was allowed to have peers and friends. He had a girlfriend now. One whom Severus hadn’t met yet, but had heard all about.

Harry couldn’t shut up about her even if he tried. It was like an impulse. From the moment he woke up, the little brat started his rampage on ‘Emily likes this, she likes that, she eats that food, she hates that color, she likes my hair don’t brush it, I want new jeans, Emily likes jeans and she hates cotton…,’ and so on and so forth.

Severus had never in his life been more glad that he wasn’t a teenager anymore. It was, quite frankly, exhaustive, and embarrassing too, if he were being honest. Harry was obsessed with this Emily girl, the same way Severus himself had been once obsessed with Harry’s mother.

Thus here he sits, trying to think like a civilized, rational adult, and a somewhat carefree parent, who cared about his child’s social life. Twenty minutes was nothing. The girl must have been extra clingy that day, maybe even bribed his innocent, gullible son with cherry pie and cinnamon tea to make him stay around for longer. It didn’t matter and Severus was not panicking.

Yes, Severus nodded his head, as the tapping continued. It’s all Emily’s fault.

Except, twenty minutes turned into thirty, Severus’s leg started bouncing, forty minutes gone and he was making holes in the rug in their living room as he paced, using every ounce of self-preservation and Occlumency that he had to remain calm.

Forty minutes. That was nothing.

Except that it was.

Because only an hour later, Harry returned.

He didn’t use his key, just knocked on the door, and waited until Severus almost wrenched it open, just about to spew out the lecture he had been brewing in his head about responsibility and time management.

Then he saw Harry’s ashen face, and his mouth closed. Harry didn’t glance up at his face and quietly waited for Severus to stand aside before he came in, making his way to the kitchen.

Severus closed the door with a frown. Something had happened.

He followed Harry to the kitchen, and watched, transfixed, as the boy opened the fridge to retrieve the bottle of orange juice, and started gulping it down straight from the bottle, something he knew Severus was very sensitive about.

Severus though, let it slide without making a comment. Nothing other than a pointed frown. Harry didn’t even look his way.

Harry chugged and chugged until the bottle was half empty, before he let his fingers go lax around the glass, and it fell, shattering on their floor.
“What are you doing?” he asked his son, his arms crossed and his brows furrowing. He was so glad that he wasn’t a teenager anymore.

Harry didn’t answer, walked to his chair, and flopped down.

“Did the girl dump you?” Severus tried not to sound too gleeful. Harry was quite taken with this girl. His son glared at him head-on, with a ferocity and volume that was very unlike him. Severus uncrossed his arms and leaned forward. He had to be the supportive parent now.

“Did you dump her?” he had never been in a relationship before, but Severus thought that he knew how to teach Harry to handle heartbreak and dating on the side.

Harry resumed his glaring for a full minute before he spoke. “Who is my mother?”

It took Severus a moment to register those words. “What?”

“Who’s mom, Dad?” this time, it was Harry crossing his arms. “What’s her name?” he shrugged, heavily leaning back into his seat. “Where’s your ring? Where is hers?”

This was the last thing he was expecting his son to say. Severus was not prepared for this. “Harry,”

Harry scowled. “Just tell me. I want to know,”

Severus leaned forward, alleviating his weight by his elbows. He could do this, he thought. He just needed to gather his bearings, get to the root of this inquiry and then calm Harry in the process. “What happened?” he asked, softly as he could manage. “Did something happen with Emily?” his lungs weren’t working the right way. Severus could hear the sound of his blood rushing in his ears, dimming out Harry’s indignant scoff.

“No,” his son growled. “I just asked you a question. You always hate it when people avert questions, don’t you?” he gazed at Severus the same way Lily had, the last time they’ve spoken to each other. Angry, and indignant and slightly repulsed. Severus remained mute. “You taught me that people who did that undermined the other’s intellect,” Harry said. “Don’t question my intellect.”

Severus, as a matter of fact, did hate it when people did that. All that dawdling and senseless jabber was nothing but a waste of time, and time was golden to him. He had never realized how much he was counting on that same senseless jabber in order to buy himself time now. He remained silent. Took another breath.

“Who’s mom?” Harry asked again, agitated by Sev’s silence.

“She is your mother,” Severus said. “The woman who gave birth to you,”

Harry’s frown deepened. “What’s her name?”

“Harry—”

He cut him off. “Do you really want to do this the hard way?”

Severus wasn’t sure whether there was an easy way to do this. He already knew that none of the possible outcomes of this situation was going to be pleasant.

“What happened?” he asked again. This seemed awfully unprovoked. Harry had been fine that morning, chipper even, to be spending his time with the muggle girl, and Severus was as equally pleased to be on his son’s good side again. And now this. Something must have happened to shift Harry’s mood this dramatically.

“Alright,” Harry sighed, and then mimicked Severus by leaning on his elbows. “If you don’t want to talk, maybe I should. Then you can just sit there and listen.”

Severus quickly realized that this was getting out of his hands. “Harry,”

“My mom’s name was Lily Evans,” Harry said, staring right into his eyes, not blinking once in the tense silence. “I have her eyes.” He shrugged. “She died, Dad.” Then an unpleasant, wretched smile formed on his face. “Interestingly enough, so did you.”

Severus was shocked into silence, and Harry, calmly carried on, his expression disturbingly clean of any outward emotions. He had taught the boy too well, Sev realized with dismay.

“It’s really funny, isn’t it?” his son asked. “Apparently, you were both murdered by an evil wizard. And I’ve been missing for fourteen years.”

There is no way that Harry came upon that information by himself.

“Who told you these things?” Severus asked once he found his voice.

Harry raised his eyebrows in mock concern. “My godfathers,” he said. “I mean you should know them, you’re pals!” the living room lamp shattered but Harry didn’t even seem to notice. “You and mom and them. Aren’t you? Well, except that you’re supposed to be dead.” He leaned back in his chair.

“James Potter is supposed to be dead.” The name sent a shiver down Severus’s spine. Harry scoffed.

“Lily’s husband, you see.” He explained. “You guys married when you were nineteen, you had me when you were twenty.” His eyes narrowed. “You died when you were twenty one.”

Lupin. That damned, bloody monster. That had to be his job. He had found his son, cornered him, and fed him these…well they weren’t lies. But they were truths that Harry would have fared much better without. He had no right to do this, he had no right to upset Harry like this.

“Do you remember the day you died,” Harry asked. “Or the day you married? Do you remember the day I was born?” he huffed a laugh. “Because I have to say, you look really fresh for a man who’s died fourteen years ago.”

Severus took a deep breath. “I can explain,” he said.

“I don’t want you to explain.” Harry countered, composed but in no way calm. “You’re not James Potter. He, my dad, that is, died. With my mom.” Another shatter arose above them, on the second floor and Harry’s eyes were still burning into his. “I survived, but you took me. You’re not my dad, you’re my kidnapper.”

“Your father…”

“My dad,” Harry cut in, thickly swallowing. “Yes. You’re not him. You stole me. Everyone’s been looking for me, all these years. That’s why we kept running away.” Another thud, this time from the living room once more. “In the middle of the nights, you woke me up and told me that we had to play hide and seek? The days you crammed me into a car and drove away and we never looked back.”

Harry’s face finally morphed into a hateful glare. “New names, new identities. New prisons.”

“I know you’re angry,” Severus was past denying Harry’s words. It wouldn’t help anyone now, if anything it would cause more harm than good. Whatever method the wolf had used to convince his son must have been compelling enough, that any negative reaction towards said method might just send Harry off the rails. “Maybe you should eat something,” he said. They had a small stack of papers on the coffee table. If only Severus had his wand on him to summon said papers. Harry would be marginally calmer if he was busying his hands. “And then sleep on this, and then we can—”

“What?” Harry cut in. “Negotiate the terms of my freedom?”

Severus sighed and resisted the urge to roll his eyes. “Don’t be ridiculous, Harry.” Then, almost as an afterthought, it occurred to him that Lupin might still be in the area. “Where’s the wolf?” he asked.

Lupin wouldn’t just drop a truth bomb and then disappear.

“Oh, so you do know him,” Harry said, his face flushed with anger. “Santa’s enemy. All that shit about him not being important. All those brownies you threw away, all those letters you destroyed, right in front of my eyes. Every single one of them was addressed to me.”
Severus regarded Harry for a moment. He needed to get to Lupin. Kill him, and then make him explain things to Harry the right way. “Where is he?” he asked once more.

Harry shrugged. “They’re coming back for me.”

“They?”

“Yes. Remus and Sirius.”

Severus surged to his feet, his eyes wide with shock. This wasn’t good. Black was a fugitive!? Oh no. Lupin was sheltering his friend’s murderer? Why on earth would he do such a thing? The need to find that bumbling fool was even greater now. He couldn’t let that happen. He wouldn’t let them take his son away.

He needed to make Harry understand.

“No, Harry, Sirius Black is—”

“An escaped convict,” Harry filled in with ease. “Like us. Unlike you, he’s actually innocent of the crime he’s committed.”

Severus felt frustration and anger brewing in his veins. What on earth had they fed to his son?

“He sold your parents out,” he growled, but Harry remained unimpressed.

“No he didn’t,” he said, looking perfectly certain. “But you did kidnap me.”

Severus sat back down. “On your father’s behest,” he gritted out. “If you would just let me talk, for a moment.”

“You lied to me,” It was the first sentence that was said with no bite or anger behind it. Severus felt something coil in his stomach. Shame, guilt, and heartbreak in an ambivalent mess.

“No,” he said. He never lied. He just never told Harry the truth. He just gave Harry what he needed at the time. He needed a strong father figure. He needed a dad and Severus was a father in all but blood. Maybe he wasn’t entitled to bear such a title, but he at least deserved some recognition. James Potter had had his son for fifteen months. Severus had been raising him for fifteen years.

Harry’s eyes burned like Greek fire, green and avenging. Just like his mother’s. “Yes you did.” his son said. “They told me who you are,”

Severus was having enough of this. “A very annoyed parent at the moment?”

“You’re one of them.” Harry spat in disgust. “You work for the guy who killed my real parents,”

“No, I don’t.” Severus groaned. Damn Black and Lupin, damn them to the lowest pit of hell. Severus pinched the bridge of his nose. “I used to work for him,” he said. “I don’t anymore. He’s dead,”

“He’s not,” Harry growled. “He’s back! And he’s probably mad you didn’t scram off to him on your knees.” He sneered at Severus with a look of pure loathing. An expression that was wildly out of place for his son. Severus refused to be taken aback by it. “Remus told me all about you do.” Harry continued with disdain. “Dark magic. You…you cursed me!”

What?

No. no, he absolutely refused to take responsibility for that. That wasn’t his fault. Murders and torture and disfiguring muggles might have been, working as a double agent with wavering loyalties, surely, kidnapping a baby and raising him as his own, certainly but this? No. Severus refused to accept such a notion. As messed up as it was.

“Oh for god’s sake…” he groaned out loud.

Lupin had just run his mouth at his son, hadn’t he? He and Black had corrupted Harry’s mind, undid what took Severus years to build. Now Harry thought that he was responsible for his volatile magic because that’s how lying works, doesn’t it? it’s just tiny nips here and there, woven into an undeniable truth.

‘Your dad isn’t that bastard Harry, he works for the dark lord, oh and he also cursed you into killing four children, and lashing out with your magic,’
Who could prove them otherwise? James Potter and Lily were long dead. The only way to prove Harry’s magical disability was for Harry to find out about it himself. For him to know that he has been draining Severus’ magic dry for years, for so long that even the simplest charms took him a strenuous amount of effort. That would destroy Harry. Severus wouldn’t let it happen.

“What did those idiots tell you?” he asked.

Harry stubbornly turned his head away. “What I needed to know,”

Severus needed to take hold of this conversation. Fast.

“He’s not back,” he snapped, irritatingly pushing up his sleeve to reveal the faded mark. It hadn’t changed a bit since the day he had taken Harry. Voldemort was gone. He was absolutely certain of it. “I would know. Trust me, Harry.” Harry’s eyes were still narrowed. Severus knew that he had to push harder.

“They’re probably using this to scare you into doing stupid things,” he said. “Which you are by the way,”

Harry frowned. “You’re lying,”

“No, I’m not,”

Harry slammed his hands on the tabletop. “Yes, you are!”

Severus’s temper snapped. “I raised you!” he yelled back. “They talk your ear off for half an hour and suddenly I’m the bad guy? You’re treating me as if I shackled you to the bed and starved you all your life! I abandoned my life for you!”

“You cursed me! You’re the reason why I killed people!” Harry hollered and Severus fisted his hands.

“No,” he seethed. “You’re the reason why you killed them!” he strode to Harry and shook him by the shoulders. “Open up your eyes, boy!” Harry flinched, but Severus didn’t draw away. He would not be blamed for this. “Why in the world would I curse you,” he sneered. “What could I possibly accomplish by giving away my magic to you?”

“Giving away?” Harry’s meek voice snapped Severus back to reality. He’s given away too much. With an internal groan, he pulled up his mental shields and released Harry’s shoulders.

“Forget it,” he ordered. “Delete everything I just said from your mind.”

Harry’s mouth fell open. “But—”

“I need to talk to Black and Lupin, and you-you need to stay in your room. Do not leave until I tell you it’s okay. We might have to leave again,”
Harry sat, astonished and insulted as Severus turned away from him. “Didn’t you hear a word I just said?” he whispered.

“I need to attend to more pressing matters now, Harry.” Beating Black and Lupin to a pulp and then acquiring after this whole dark lord nonsense were his top priorities at the moment. They couldn’t be far from here, and Severus might not be able to defeat them both with his wand, but he had the element of surprise on his side, and his potions too, of course. “I’ll deal with them,” he said, “And then we can talk. I’ll tell you all about James and Lily,”

Harry, contrary to Severus’s expectation, stomped his feet. “No!” he yelled. “You’re not brushing me aside again! This is important!”
Things shattered upstairs, the sound was too mutinous for Severus to discern, but it might have been their windows.

“Harry, calm down, now,”

Harry didn’t. “No! You keep doing this!” He wasn’t breathing right, Severus could see Harry’s chest heaving. “Always just brushing me aside! You’re not even my dad! You’ve been playing pretend as a dead guy! Doesn’t that make you feel anything?”

Severus, against his better judgment, snapped back instead of backing off. “Annoyed,”

“Annoyed?” Harry seethed incredulously. “That my whole life is a lie?” behind him, a plate rose above the sink and started spinning, drawing Sev’s gaze over Harry’s shoulder. “Who even are you?” Harry asked, oblivious, and disgusted. Severus’s eyes remained on the spinning plate. “You’re just a stranger, who plucked me off my dead father’s arms and ran off,”

That got his attention. This wasn’t fair. It hit Severus all at once, the sheer unfairness of being accused of something like that. He had put his blood and tears in raising Harry the way he was, he had abandoned his entire life, to raise this child, who wasn’t even his, he had to give up his magic to keep him alive, he had to live like a recluse, and this is how he was getting repaid? It wasn’t fair.

“For your information,” he started, having little to no control over the words that were firing out of his mouth. “Your father died with his guts splayed out of his stomach while you were crying in the nursery,” Severus said without an ounce of mercy. Harry went mute. “He asked me to take you and flee, for reasons that I WILL explain.” He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply. “Now, PLEASE, calm down.”

The plate ceased spinning at once, and shattered against the counter the same moment Harry crossed his arms, defensively glaring at him.
“I’m not believing a word you say,” he said, venom dripping off his voice.

Severus scoffed. “Then maybe you should have asked the wolf why he didn’t ‘rescue’ you when he first found us.” He glared back at his son. “He was quite selective with his tale, wasn’t he?”

“Remus didn’t have enough power_”

Severus growled.

“And he does now?” he sneered in disgust. That damned beast had already poisoned his son’s mind. “Please.” He snorted. “The people you’ve come to know in an hour, I’ve known for a lifetime,” He sneered. “They’re bullies, they ruined my childhood, and now they’re trying to take you away. You cannot just believe them over your father,”

“You lied to me. I’ll take anyone’s word but yours. This is just proof.” Harry sniffed. He was staring over Severus’s shoulder with a deep frown etched on his face. “You stole me because you hated my dad.” He accused. “You wanted to have the last word.” His shoulders went lax, and his expression softened into a blank stare.

“No,” Severus said. “I did it because I’m a decent person.” Harry didn’t look at him. “Unlike Lupin and Black. I wasn’t the ones tormenting them for nearly a decade.” He knew, he knew that they had manipulated his son, planted these thoughts in his mind. Harry needed to hear everything, if they were going to put Severus’ filthy past on the table, then Severus was going to do the same. James Potter wasn’t a saint. Neither were his so-called friends. They were horrible people. And so was Severus.

Everyone was horrible. That was the whole point of being human.

Harry looked as if he hadn’t been listening to a word Sev had just said. He had the look his face that he got when he was staring off deeply into something, like the drawn feather on Sev’s chin when he was a child. Severus knew he was still listening though, he could tell. This was his child.
He wouldn’t allow them to take his son.

“You cannot possibly believe them over me,” he voiced his fear. Because Harry couldn’t. Severus wouldn’t let them do this to him, Harry didn’t need this, not now. His son needed constant care and attention, he needed what only Severus could provide for him. It’s been them against the world for what felt like forever now.

Severus could fix this. Severus knew Harry and his quirks. He would calm him down, sit him down with some papers and tell him everything as they made origami. This is what they did. It was the only thing that worked.

When Harry looked at him, his face was still blank. “I don’t want to see you anymore,”

“Harry,” Severus stepped forward, opening his arms. Harry come to him, he knew it.

The child’s eyes went wide with rage, and he shook his head, the lamps exploded overhead as Severus dived for his son moments before he would disapparate.

“NO!”

**

“First, you need to make sure it’s square,”

“With a ruler?” Harry asked. He had just started teaching him the basic shapes, and simple math. At first, he thought it was too early for the six-year-old, but then he realized that Harry needed the mental stimulation, and he was eager enough to learn anything Severus told him on the spot.
“You can tell with your eyes.” Severus gently flattened his paper on the kitchen table. “See?” He said and ran a finger along the edges. “All the sides are the same size.”

Harry compared it with his own paper and then nodded. “Okay, now what, Daddy?”

He scooted closer to Severus, and the potion master tugged him to his side. “Now you fold it like this,” he folded the left edge of the paper into a triangle.

Harry clumsily followed suit. This was the third time he was making an origami himself. “Uh-huh,” the little child uttered, his tongue sticking out of his mouth in concentration.

Severus inspected the work. “You have to make sure the folding line is very prominent.” He said and Harry pressed down on his fold with a huff, his eyes immediately seeking Sev’s face for approval.

Severus nodded with a smirk. “Now open the fold,” he did so and did another fold on the other side of the paper. “And do it like this,”

“But we just did that!”

“No, do the other side. Do you see the one in my hands?”

“Uh-huh.”

Severus smiled. “Now the hard part, you have to bring the edges under, and then fold it into a triangle. Do you think you can do that?”

“Yes, Daddy.”

Severus bit his lip. “Are you sure?”

Harry’s head bounced up and down, Sev could see him kicking his legs under the table. He might have given him too much sugar this morning, now that he thought about it. He inwardly grimaced. “I want to make my own frog!” Harry exclaimed. “I’m a big boy.”

He feared that the frog origami would be too advanced for his son, but Harry was doing splendidly thus far, only seeming to have a problem with the right proportions and the double folds.

“Alright,” Severus admitted with a small smirk. “Just gently push the edges under the diamond and fold down,”

“It’s not staying!”

“Don’t be too harsh with the paper, Harry.” He nudges the paper out of Harry’s hands and puts it in front of him. “It’s delicate. If you’re not careful you might tear it.”

“Okay,” Harry tenderly straightened the paper. “I won’t hurt the froggy,” he tapped the vaguely frog-shaped origami with a small coo.
“Fold it down…” Severus demonstrated on his own frog. “There you go. See?”

The child frowned. “It doesn’t look like a frog,”

“Not yet.” Sev mused. “Go fetch your crayons.”

Harry’s eyes widened in mirth. Severus rarely ever joined coloring time. “You color too?!”

Severus kissed the top of his head. “We’ll color together,”

***

They were in the clearing, the one in Norway, except that it wasn’t March the third, It wasn’t a belated outing/birthday party for Harry, it wasn’t a picnic. Their presence posed an entirely different reason.

For the first time in a very long time, Harry was angry. Not that anger was the right word to describe the myriad of emotions in any way. It felt like rage enveloping all the hurt and grief in the world and stuffing it into Harry’s soul in a single instance like a stuffed toy.

The man he loved most in the entire world had been lying to him as long as he can remember. The man is a stranger, not his father. His father had been murdered, with his mother, and Harry…

He looked around the barren field, the view was breathtaking, it always has been, the tall grass, the grey-ish sky, the sea. It never ceased to amaze Harry. How could something so beautiful remain untouched and unbroken?

It took him a while to find him , kneeling about a hundred yards away from Harry, gathering his composure. Harry felt the wind picking up around him, and he looked at the man with utter hatred and loathing.

He couldn’t see the man’s face, but as the figure looked up, Harry felt the bubbling emotions take over. He watched, his fists clenched, as Dad swayed on his feet and started striding to him, the panic in his face clearing the closer he got.

“Harry!” he screamed, and Harry could hardly hear him over the howling wind, and the rustling of the tall grass. He closes his eyes, and shoves the wind towards the man full force, knocking him down on his back with the force as the wind whips away at the clearing.

“YOU LIED!” he screamed. He wants to kill Severus, he feels the itch under his skin. He wants that lying monster to be GONE. All his life had been a lie, everything had been ruined, his childhood, his everything. He was a murderer because of this man, he could never afford to feel real emotions because of this man. He didn’t deserve mercy.

Snape got up, this time jogging the distance, “Harry,” he called out.

“I hate you!” Harry yelled at him. “I hate you!”

The itching under his skin was getting worse, morphing into a burning sizzle that didn’t belong in Harry’s body. He wanted it out. He wanted Severus Snape to be gone.

“You’re going to hurt yourself,” Severus said, his eyes calm despite the fear evident on his expression. Harry shouldn’t have let him get this close. He knew Harry’s weakness, he thought that if he behaved as if Harry was still his son then things would be better, and Harry would listen and abide like a good little boy.

“They were right,” he said. “You’re a liar.”

Dad’s eyes narrowed when Harry turned his head away. “You made me into a monster,”

“I didn’t curse you,” he said as he held his hands out as if trying to assuage a wounded animal.

“You…you hated my dad,” he did, Remus showed him evidence, he showed him how cruel this man had been to his father, the man who’d sacrificed his life for Harry, and Harry didn’t even know him. It made him sick, whether, with grief or guilt, he wasn’t quite sure at the time.

Dad-the man, kept approaching him, “Harry, look at me,” he said, and his voice made something twisted coil in Harry’s chest. “I love you, okay?” he said, “You’re my son, and I love you. You’re going to hurt yourself,”

Lies. Everything that came out of his mouth was a lie.

“No! You lie! You lie all the time!”

Dad shook his head, “Not about this.” He was looking right into Harry’s eyes, “Never about this,”

He looked so sincere, Harry had rarely seen him so open, and his face full of expression. He remembered this man, playing hide and seek with him as a child, helping him walk, teaching him how to build a paper boat, cooking for him, disfiguring bodies for him. They couldn’t be the same person, Dad couldn’t be this man, but he was, right in front of Harry’s eyes.

“I hate you,” he said, his cheeks felt damp, but Harry didn’t bother to check whether they were tears or something else. He needed to leave. His body obliged his wishes and vanished him on the spot, only to appear in the same field, only now another hundred yards away from Severus.

“Harry, wait.”

He wasn’t getting it. It infuriated Harry, how was he so calm in the face of something so heartbreaking for Harry? It was because he didn’t care in the first place, all he cared about was keeping the ‘monster’ away from Harry, well, the teenage boy sneered, he was out of luck because there never was any monster, only the one that Dad had made him into.

Harry let him come near, gave him the false sense of security he wanted. He was angry. So so angry. And he wanted to make it hurt , maybe then the man would finally feel the pain he was causing Harry.

Severus approached, his eyes seeking Harry’s face for any shred of mercy, “Just let me come a little closer,” he said softly. “I swear it’s going to be fine, Harry_”

Harry hated it, the fake look of compassion on his face, in comparison to the man who had hated and bullied his real father. He hated it.

“I love you,” he said and Harry couldn’t remain silent anymore.

“Lies. You ALWAYS lie!” the air seemed to suddenly go still around them, and Harry ignored the strong, throbbing pang in his chest. He needed Snape to understand.

“Calm down, let’s—”

“Talk?!” Harry screeched, a vague silver shape began to form in front of his chest, but he paid it no heed. Severus did though, and his eyes went wide, Harry glowered at him.

“Harry,”

“No, I don’t want to talk!” the silver being evolved into something sharp and gleaming, “You lied to me!”

Dad remained silent.

“You’re not even denying it!” the silver dagger pointed outwards, spinning in place, and Severus looked at him, into his eyes, as if he couldn’t believe the sight before him. He hates the monster. He hated Harry, he always has. He was not Harry’s father. He was a twisted, evil death eater.

“I love you,” Severus said, not denying a single word.

“You’re not even my real dad!” the dagger zoomed away and Harry’s eyes instantly widened. It was heading to Dad, and the man just stood, and he wasn’t moving away. Harry cried out but it was too late, the silver blade had already embedded itself into his chest.

Harry watched as he fell.

“Dad.”

***

“Daddy?”

Severus sounded exhausted, it was long past midnight, but no matter how many times he’d read the damn children’s book for Harry, the boy didn’t seem to doze off. “Yes?”

Harry’s small head shifted on his shoulder, “Do you think the stars are mad at me?”

Severus closed the book he was holding and peered down at his child.

“No,” he said, “Why would you say that?”

Harry shrugged, but then pointed at the book, “Well, Bobby found lots of friends when his star was happy with him,” he pointed at the smiling boy on the cover of the book. “I don’t have any friends,” then he looked up at Severus. “Is my star mad?”

Severus kissed his head. He felt the guilt churning in his stomach. He was responsible for this. For his son’s loneliness. “Your star thinks you’re the best-behaved boy she’s ever met,” he assured the boy.

“Then why don’t I have friends?”

“You have me,” Severus said, acutely aware of the irony as he did, “And I have you. That’s how our stars planned it.”

That was the problem with children, he thought as his son grinned up at him, missing two recently fallen teeth. They made heroes out of anyone. He was Harry’s hero, and he couldn’t hate himself anymore for it.

“You’re right.” Harry hummed, hugging Severus. “You’re my bestest friend in the world.”

“It’s ‘Best’, Harry,” Severus said, feeling awful. “And you are my only best friend in the world too,”

Even if it didn’t have to be that way.

***

“Dad?” the boy nudged his father’s shoulder, a whine accompanying his voice. “Dad, please.”

Dad remained unconscious, his temple bleeding and his face lax and unresponsive, he must have hit it on a rock nearby, Harry was too dazed to look for it, the blade was bloodied and Harry didn’t know what to do.

He’s hurt him. Dad was dead. Harry had killed him. It couldn’t be.

“Dad I’m sorry,” Harry whispered, putting his ear down on his father’s chest near the dagger, waiting for a heartbeat. It had to be there. It had to be. “Wake up,” he couldn’t hear anything. “DAD?” his voice broke, and Harry’s hand grappled for his father’s wrist. He wouldn’t hurt dad. He couldn’t have. He didn’t mean it.

He was a monster. Oh god, what had he done?

He didn’t mean it. He wanted to take it back. He had to take it back.

“No,” his hand was bloodied, it was Dad’s blood, “No, no, please! I didn’t- Dad I didn’t mean it. Dad, wake up, I’m sorry! God, oh god,”
He cried and he cried and he cried, like a small child, like he used to cry, and Dad would hold him and tell him it’ll be alright. But it couldn’t be. Because Harry had hurt him.

“I’m sorry,” he muttered into Dad’s robes, “Daddy wake up. Please, please!”

***

Kingsley was leading Harry out of the room a while later, a hand clasped on his shoulder despite Harry’s numerous protests.

“I cannot just leave you walking around with no cuffs or supervision.” He’d said. “So either handcuffs or my hand,”

Harry had chosen the less evil as he resisted the pull on his eyelids. He was so exhausted.

As they made their way to the main hallway, the duo noticed a bulk of people gathered around Harry’s ‘jail cell’, about four young people in red robes, and an older, plump looking man who did not look pleased in the slightest. He saw Harry and Shacklebolt approach and a deep frown etched itself on his face.

“Where had you taken him?” he snapped as soon as the two were in hearing distance. Harry did not like this stranger. He was the sort of person who just gave him the wrong vibes.

“Warren?” Shacklebolt asked instead.

The man crossed his arms, “Obviously.” He drawled. “Why is he out of his cell?”

Shacklebolt didn’t even pause for a bit. “He needed to use the loo,”

Now that he did mention it, Harry really felt like using the loo. He should have asked the pink-haired woman when he had the chance. His mouth curled in disappointment.

Warren grumbled. “Well, you better put him back in that cell.” He said. “I’m calling in more guards.” At Kingsley’s askance hum the man’s overly expressive face broke into a glare. “Bastard broke out of Azkaban,”

Shacklebolt’s eyebrows shot upwards. “What?!”

Harry felt the tingling in his stomach increase ten-fold. Did he break out by himself? Of course, he did, Harry wasn’t sure how, he didn’t care. Dad had broken out, he was safe. Or was he? He was going to come and find Harry, and this place was littered with Aurors and all sorts of people who weren’t a fan of his father.

Harry sincerely hoped the man stayed away for now.

“He did.” Warren sighed, “Knocked Dumbledore out cold and then vanished.” Then he looked at Harry over his nose, an unusual tendril of malice lurked in his gaze. “He might be heading this way to take the boy. We’re double folding the security,”

Kinglsey pressed his lips in a thin line. “How did he break out of Azkaban?”

“The same way Black did, apparently,” Warren replied. “I’ll be damned if I know. The wards around that place need to be redone, someone needs to have a word with the dementors. Those bloody things are slacking off.”

“Is Dumbledore alright?”

That name was important. He was the one Kingsley needed to contact in order to help Harry if he was injured or dead that would complicate things. Harry really hoped that Dad hadn’t killed or maimed the man.

Warren rubbed a hand over his face. “He was transferred back to Hogwarts. It’ll take Snape a few days to get back on land, we need to be careful,”
Shacklebolt scoffed at the paranoid manner of his colleague. “He won’t be stupid enough to break into the ministry, Warren,”
He was so wrong.

“He’s going to wreck you,” Harry muttered under his breath, not being able to contain the surge of excitement any longer. His dad was alright, he was out of the prison, he might have seriously injured a man, but Harry didn’t care because he’s missed his dad so much that he felt like they’ve been apart for years.

Warren turned on him with narrowed eyes. “What was that, you little twerp?”

Harry met the man’s gaze with a cool expression of his own. Chin held high and his voice unwavering. Dad would have been proud of him. “I said ‘he’s going to wreck you’. If you think anything is stopping him from coming to get me…well,”

Harry really hoped that wouldn’t be the case.

Warren looked disgusted. “He’s your kidnapper, why are you rooting for him?”

“I’m not.” Harry totally was. In fact, he was inappropriately giddy about it. “I don’t want him to endanger his life for me.”

“But?”

Harry didn’t seem to be able to hide his smile any longer. “He will find you,” he said with absolute certainty. “And he will know every single face that touched me, and he’s going to fuck you up,”

Warren glared deep into Harry’s eyes. “Not without giving up his fucking head first.” He seethed and then looked over his shoulder. “Rogers!” he barked.

A lanky blonde Auror ran up to meet the trio. “Sir,” he said.

“Call in two combat Auror teams now,” he threw Harry a twisted sneer, “Protecting the boy’s cell, I want five in the room with him,”
Roger looked awfully uncomfortable. “Sir it’s two in the morning,”

Warren’s glare hardened. “Did I stutter?”

Roger rapidly shook his head back and forth with a gulp. “Sir, yes sir. Fire-calling them now,” then he hurried down the corridor with the manner of a man scrambling away from a wild animal. Warren turned to Shacklebolt.

“Warren,” the Auror said, “You’re being dramatic,”

“Shacklebolt.” Warren mirrored him, “This is my division now,”

Kingsley almost couldn’t believe his ears. “He’s a single death eater.” He exclaimed, his hand tightening just a notch on Harry’s shoulder. The boy subtly recoiled but kept his gaze steadily on Warren, who was now looking rather uncomfortable in the boy’s presence.

There was just something about Potter, Kingsley had realized that before, but now, in the presence of other colleagues it just stood out more prominently than he had been imagining.

“Well, he’s got death eater friends. That’s how those filthy rats work, Kingsley. You’re a field agent, you should know better,”
“Potter is baiting you, and you’re falling for it,”

Harry nodded in agreement. “I am baiting you.”

Warren’s contempt grew thicker in the air as he turned to another Auror, a blonde-haired woman with green eyes, Kingsley’s memory strongly suggested that her name was ‘Tina’ but he couldn’t be certain. “Get him in his cell.” He ordered and Tina nodded. “I’m contacting Fudge. Potter needs to be transferred to the ministry’s custody, immediately.” Shacklebolt released Potter’s shoulder with a subtle squeeze. He needed to contact Dumbledore and hope for the best.

“Put under magical shields, maybe even Merlin’s golden chain,”

None of those sounded particularly helpful.

Tina replaced Kingsley and led the boy into his cell. “Come along, Potter,”

“This is ridiculous,” Kinglsey seethed to a frustrated Warren once Potter was safely put and locked in his cell with two other Aurors inside.

“No, Kingsley,” Warren spat back “Ridiculous is hearing that boy talk about his abductor as if he’s merlin himself. I’m having him looked over before the interrogation again,”

Kingsley didn’t think Potter would be fond of that idea. “We already checked him over.”

“Well, you mustn’t have done a sufficient job.” The other man started walking away. “I don’t think the Minister will want you working on this case after this. Your shift is over too,”

Shacklebolt stood and stared at the man’s back as he and his Aurors disappeared from view.

He had started a dangerous game.