Severus stepped out of the fireplace into his quarters. He walked off to the side to wait for his son who tripped through the fireplace a few moments later.

“Harry,” he said with a cough, the cloud of ash making his eyes water. Just before Harry fell, Snape managed to grab him by the arms.

Jerkily pulling out of his hold as if his touch burned, Harry mumbled, “Damn floo.” Snape’s lips curved into a slight smile, Lily was always a klutz when it came to flooing too, and flying. Aside from apparition she usually preferred muggle means of travel.

His smile grew as he watched the teenager survey the room with wide eyes, clearly shocked by how mundane his quarters were. “Surprised there are no coffins?”

Harry jumped as if he had forgotten Severus was behind him. If it was possible, his bright green eyes grew even wider. “Did-did you just make a joke, sir?”

Snape smirked; clearly his son had a lot to learn. “I have been known to have a decent sense of humor on occasion. Your mother quite appreciated my wit actually.” Harry scowled deeply at the mention of his and Lily’s relationship; Snape had his work cut out for him.

Ignoring his son's sour mood, he guided him around his quarters. “This is the living room, feel free to help yourself to any of the books on the shelves,” he said gesturing to the floor-to-ceiling bookshelves filled with hundreds of books. He nodded towards the wall adjacent to them, “Over there is the portrait that leads to the dungeons. It’s a portrait of Salazar Slytherin, I’ll show you the entrance sometime soon. The password is asphodel.”

“This way,” he said, walking in the opposite direction. “Is the kitchen. I occasionally cook, but if you ever need food feel free to call for a house elf and they’ll bring you anything you want. My only request is that it have some semblance of nutrition. I usually call on Mipsy, she’s the elf appointed to the quarters and is quite diligent. If you do cook, please just clean up after yourself.” Harry gave a soft snort at his words, causing Snape to narrow his gaze. He was inclined to ask about it, but now wasn’t the time; the boy was overwhelmed enough as is.

Severus headed down a corridor between the kitchen and living room, pointing out the dining room table as they passed. “On the left is my room, you are welcome in, just please knock first. I will give you the same courtesy.” Harry rolled his eyes at that statement and Snape had to bite his tongue. They would get nowhere if they dissolved into an argument. “To the right is my personal potions lab. It is locked and you are not allowed in without supervision. I tend to keep dangerous potions brewing in there.” He watched the boy glance at the door and moved on only when he was confident Harry wouldn’t try to enter. Given the child’s aptitude for potions, it would undoubtedly be a disastrous combination.

“And here is your room,” he said, opening the last door straight ahead of them.

The room was nothing spectacular. The castle walls were unadorned with decoration. A deep blue quilt covered the bed on the far wall, and a large oak dresser sat up against the wall to their left. “It was my guest room,” he told the boy next to him who looked around the room with an uninterested expression. “It is yours now, later this week we can go out and get some things to decorate it however you would like.” Harry made no answer, just gave a small nod. Undoubtedly, this week had been even more draining for his son than it was for him.

“The ensuite is to your right,” he said, nodding toward the closed door. “I have no doubt you’re tired, I’m sure you didn’t get much sleep with your early morning stroll, so I’ll let you get some rest. Let me know if you need anything.” Snape closed the door, with a glance back at the child as he did. The raven-haired teen was simply standing there, looking around despondently. With a sigh, he stepped out of the room and let the door shut behind him.

Severus closed his eyes and let his head fall against the door. “Lily,” he breathed reverently. “I wish you were here.” She was always so much better at emotions than he was and always knew what to do. He let out a soft chuckle, the emotional range of a teaspoon is how she referred to his feelings. But then again if she was here then this wouldn’t be happening in the first place. He would have an actual relationship with his son and wouldn’t only be the arse who bullied an abused child for three years.

“Help me Lils,” he whispered- he needed all the help he could get if he had any hope of gaining his son's trust.

*****************

Harry blinked his eyes open for several seconds trying to piece together where he was. He had taken one of those naps where you fall asleep for hours and wake up not knowing what day it is. Looking around the unfamiliar room, he finally pieced together that he was in Snape’s guest room. Snape. The professor he loathed the most. That first day of class, he had actually been looking forward to learning potions but then the man had to go and mock him and continued to do so unrelentingly for the next three years.

Harry groaned as he sat up, still trying to wake his mind from the fog sleep had cast over him. Stretching, he slowly got out of bed and was about to snoop around the room when he heard voices coming from the living room.

“Don’t you think you’ve done enough, Albus?” Harry heard Snape say as he gently pried open the door, taking care to make sure it didn’t squeak.

“You have every right to be angry with me, Severus.,” That was Dumbledore's voice, Harry noted as he crept closer, making sure to stay hidden in the shadows. No, Snape’s quarters didn’t look as dungeon-y as he expected, but he was thankful that the torches cast long shadows down the hallway.

“Angry? You think I’m angry? Angry doesn’t even begin to describe what I am feeling right now.” Harry had to admit, Snape did sound livid. He could almost picture the glare he was giving the headmaster and was thankful he wasn’t on the receiving end of it. “I am beyond furious. How dare you keep my son from me? And leave him in the care of Tuney to be abused. God, Albus, did you even think it through for one second? Or was that your plan all along? It was, wasn’t it? You’ve always turned a blind eye when it came to abused boys; children with happy upbringings aren’t as thrilled to die in your wars now are they? You knew what was happening with my father and you still sent me back there every summer, just as you sent Harry back to his relatives. It ends now, Albus, Harry is not a sacrificial lamb you can lead to the slaughter.”

Harry didn’t know what to make of that speech or the emotion he could hear in Snape’s voice. It was too much to try and reconcile this man with the dour professor he’d grown accustomed to over the years. For a brief moment, Harry could almost believe that the man cared about him. He shook his head, no there was no way that was true. Undoubtedly this was just an act in the chess game Snape and Dumbledore were playing, and Harry was nothing more than an unwilling pawn.

“Please Severus, you must know, I had no idea it was as bad as it was. If I had known,” Dumbledore said, and Harry could almost hear remorse in the elderly wizard's voice. Almost. “Believe me, Severus, if I had known the extent, I never would’ve sent him back. I knew that they didn’t care for him as they should and that he probably wasn’t fed properly, but I never could have imagined. I thought that Petunia would be eager to take in Lily’s child, to make amends for their tumultuous relationship. I will regret how wrong I was every day for the rest of my life.”

“As you should,” Snape hissed back. “He could have had a perfectly happy childhood with me. You are done, Albus. I am staying because I know that taking Harry away from his friends would be more than he could handle.” Harry made a face, he did not appreciate being treated as if he were a child about to burst into tears and he certainly did not appreciate decisions being made without him.

“But know this, Albus, your relationship with him is over. You are not to speak to him unless I am present, you are not to give him points rewarding his rash behavior, you are not even to look in his direction unless you have my permission. Those are the only terms on which I will stay at Hogwarts.” Harry heard no reply and assumed that Dumbledore must have nodded his head in agreement because Snape put up no further fight.

“I will be taking the rest of the week off,” Snape continued. “I need time to help Harry adjust to the revelations uncovered in the past few days.”

“Of course, Severus, you and Harry can take as much time as you need. I will be off then, please know how truly sorry I am, for everything.”

Snape didn’t say anything, and the only thing Harry heard was the sound of the portrait closing behind the headmaster. “You can come out, Harry.”

Harry jumped, hearing his professor call to him. Fuck, he thought. Snape had caught him eavesdropping. He was in for it now. Stepping out from the shadows he was ensconced in, Harry walked towards Snape with his head held high. He had faced Vernon while he was on a drunken tirade and stood against Voldemort several times. He would not cower before Snape.

That was easier said than done, however, when he saw the livid expression on the man's face. Snape must’ve noticed him flinch backward because he quickly softened and said, “I am not mad at you, Harry. While I consider eavesdropping exceedingly rude and would normally not tolerate it, I will let it slide in this instance. You are in an unfamiliar surrounding and as the conversation was about you, you have a right to hear it.”

Harry was shocked at that statement, everyone always spoke about him, not to him, and they certainly never acknowledged that he had the right to know what was going on in his own life. He would rather kiss Malfoy than express gratitude towards Snape though, so he said nothing. Luckily, Snape didn’t seem to need an answer.

“I’m assuming you are hungry. Dinner will be commencing shortly in the Great Hall, so I figured we could just have the elves serve us what they’ve already prepared.” Harry nodded; he wasn’t picky when it came to food. That’s what happened after being starved for ten years.

“After dinner, I invited Mr. Weasley and Ms. Granger to my office so that way you could talk to them and explain what is going on. Minerva said that they have been worried about you, understandably so.” Harry looked up aghast at his professor. First, he was shocked at how thoughtful it was to let him talk to Ron and Hermione, but that being said, he was nowhere near ready to face them. Hermione would take the news well. Her hyper-logical brain would prevent her from freaking out, so that wouldn’t be an issue. Ron on the other hand, was an entirely different matter. He would undoubtedly freak out and see it as a betrayal, as if Harry had any decision in the matter to make Snape his fath-no, he couldn’t even think those words.

“That’s all-right sir,” he said quickly, shaking his head. “It’s really not necessary to talk to them. I can just write to them and explain I have the flu or something. They know the Dursleys don’t feed me well and always make me do a bunch of chores, so they won't be surprised that I’m sick.”

Harry deflated as Snape’s narrowed eyes assessed him. Snape didn’t buy a word of what he said. It was the truth, though. The stress of living with his relatives over the summer usually compromised his immune system, so he was often ill at the beginning of the year.

“Be that as it may, it is important you talk to them,” Snape said after several moments of silence. “Not to mention, they have been pestering McGonagall and every other professor all hours of the day about your well-being. For the sake of the staff’s sanity, I must insist that you talk to them.” Harry opened his mouth, about to protest, but one look at Snape’s face told him it would be futile so he just glumly nodded in reply.

“Very well, let us sit down for dinner.” Snape led the way to the small round table with four chairs adjacent to the kitchen. Harry took a seat and right after he did, a plate appeared in front of him with all his favorite foods. Merlin, he loved magic.

Snape sat in the chair across from him and covered his lap with his napkin before digging into his own plate of food. “Please take this potion prior to eating,” Snape said, handing him a vial filled with a clear liquid. “It contains vitamins that will help with your malnutrition. If you even want to consider playing quidditch next year you need to gain some weight.”

“What?!” Harry exploded, standing up and knocking his goblet of pumpkin juice over as he did so. This could not be happening. “You can’t take Quidditch away from me, it’s the one place I can get away from everything. What right do you have to do that?”

“Sit down,” Snape replied, his voice quiet, but with an underlaid threat Harry knew he didn’t want to face. Quickly he complied, but he was still fuming, and the glare he pointed in Snape's direction indicated as much.

“I do not want to take Quidditch away from you.” Harry scoffed, of course, Snape wanted to take Quidditch away, without Harry playing seeker it was the only chance Slytherin had of beating Gryffindor.

It was as if Snape could read his mind, “Contrary to popular belief, I do not care if Gryffindor wins. I do care however if you fall off your broom after collapsing due to exhaustion from lack of calories or a strong burst of wind knocks you clear off as you barely weigh a hundred pounds. Therefore, you will be taking this potion until you gain proper weight for a boy your age. Luckily, Quidditch is canceled for the year, so you will have plenty of time to do so.”

Harry opened his mouth to argue, but one glare from Snape made him reconsider, so he simply took the potion's vial and swallowed its contents. He was surprised that it didn’t taste as disgusting as most potions. Instead, it tasted faintly of strawberries. Content that he got his way, Snape started eating his meal and Harry followed suit.

It was the most awkward dinner either of them ever had. Neither was willing to make small talk, so they ate in silence, the only noise was the clinking of silverware on dinner plates. Without conversation to distract them, dinner was over quickly.

All too soon, dinner ended and Snape told him it was time to go meet Ron and Hermione. With all the enthusiasm of a man going to greet Dementors for the kiss, Harry got up from his bed and followed the professor. They stepped out of the portrait that led to Snape's quarters and directly into his office. Harry took a seat, facing away from the door, trying to delay the inevitable as much as he could.

Snape sat at his desk opposite Harry and pulled out some papers to grade as they waited. All too soon, there was a knock at the door. “Enter,” Snape said, looking up from the undoubtedly terrible essays he was forced to read.

“You wanted to see us, Professor Snape?” Harry heard Hermione's voice but didn’t turn around, trying to delay the inevitable as long as possible.

“I did, there are some things we need to discuss about Harry.”

Harry sank lower in his chair as he heard Ron yell, “What about Harry? What did you do to him, Snape?”

“Ron,” Hermione hissed at him and Harry chuckled slightly at the thought of her elbowing him to get him to shut up.

Snape raised one eyebrow and directed a pointed glare at Ron. “I would ask you to show me some respect before we continue,” he said harshly.

Ron mumbled an apology. Normally, Snape would never accept such a response but Harry watched as he swallowed his anger and moved on. Harry couldn’t figure Snape out. He was clearly making an effort to get along with him all day and now he was essentially ignoring Ron’s disrespect. Maybe the man was trying to change.

“Would you like to proceed, or shall I?” Snape asked, fixing Harry with a penetrating stare.

Harry gulped and closed his eyes. He knew that it would be better if he broke the news and there was no point delaying it any longer. Taking a deep breath, he turned around and faced his two best friends, “Hey Ron, Hermione.”

He paused at their gasp as they took in his appearance and his obvious resemblance to Snape. “So…. some things have happened,” he continued lamely, not sure how to explain the events of the past two days.

“Is this some kind of prank mate? Why the bloody hell do you look like Snape?” Ron stared at him with wide eyes.

“So, it turns out that Professor Snape is my...” he trailed off, unable to force the words out.
“TherewasaglamourplacedonmeasachildandSnapeismyfather,” he said in a rush of words that were nearly indecipherable. Luckily, Hermione was clever enough to put two and two together to figure out what was going on and he and Ron had been friends for long enough that Ron understood what he said.

Both of his friends simply stared at him for a few moments, taking in the news. All of a sudden, Ron erupted, “NO WAY IS SNAPE YOUR DAD. This can’t be real; the dungeon bat is not your father. He hates you and all Gryffindors, it’s not possible.”

“Mr. Weasley,” Snape interrupted his tirade. “If I hear one more disrespectful slur pointed towards me it will be detention for a week. With Filch. Understood?” Ron nodded, properly chastised.

Luckily, this shut him up for a few moments so Hermione could logically piece through this. “Harry,” she began. “How exactly is the Professor your father? James Potter was married to Lily. Are you saying that was a ruse and Professor Snape was married to your mother all along?”

Harry stared awestruck at Hermione. He would never understand how her brain operated so quickly to put the pieces of the puzzle together. Dumbly, he just nodded in reply, but that seemed to be enough for her.

Unfortunately, it was not for Ron. “Oh, come off it Hermione,” he practically yelled. “There’s no way Harry is the son of a Slytherin, he’d practically be a traitor to all of Gryffindor. And not only that but he's the son of…” Ron trailed off, obviously not wanting to antagonize Snape any further.

“Whatever,” he continued. “You all can live in your delusion; I personally don’t associate with traitors.” Harry’s best friend of three years sent a venomous glare in his direction before storming out of the office.

“Ronald,” Hermione began to chastise him, but he was already gone.

Harry stared numbly at the closed door, unsure of how to process all of this. He knew that Ron would react badly, but he never expected this. It was clear that Ron hated him. His first and best friend hated him and viewed him as a traitor. He felt tears prick his eyes, so he sniffed and pulled at his hair, desperately trying to keep them at bay.

“Oh Harry,” Hermione began, but Harry wasn’t in the mood for her sympathy or platitudes. “You know Ron, he doesn’t react well to change and this is a lot to process. He’ll come around, he always does.”

Suddenly, Harry couldn’t take it. He was mad at everything, Ron, Dumbledore, Snape, the Dursleys. He could no longer contain his anger. Standing up so aggressively that the chair toppled over, he yelled, “Oh really? Like he forgave you last year about Scabbers and didn’t ignore you for four fucking months because of a fucking raty6 that wasn’t even a rat?” Harry laughed hysterically. Because this was his life, one giant catastrophe and plot twist after another.

“Harry,” Snape chastised his language.

At the same moment Hermione attempted to calm him, “I know Harry. Ron holds grudges, very stupid grudges. But he’s still your friend. I’ll talk to him I promise.”

Suddenly, the fight left Harry’s body, and he picked up the chair before collapsing in it. “How are you doing?” Hermione asked, looking worried. “You disappeared so suddenly, and you were just at your relatives. We were all worried sick.”

“I’m fine Hermione, you know the Dursleys,” Harry said. Snape scoffed but said nothing. Hermione of course noticed, but let it slide for now.

With a sigh she said, “All right Harry. You look tired so you should get some rest. I’ll talk to Ron, I promise I’ll make him see reason.” Harry nodded, unable to meet her gaze. She, however, would not accept that. She pulled him to his feet and looked at Harry for a few moments, determined to make sure he was truly okay.

All of a sudden, she pulled him into a tight hug, tears in her eyes. “I love you,” she said softly, so only Harry could hear. “You know that right? No matter what, I’m here for you.” Harry nodded, not trusting himself to say anything without breaking down, and hugged her tighter.

After a few minutes, she let go and took one last long look at him before walking out the door with a determined look on her face. Harry let out a small chuckle. Ron was in for it tonight. The rapid silence descended on Snape and Harry as if it were an impermeable fog. They both just sat there, taking in the events of the past thirty minutes. If this was how two people reacted to the news, Harry could only imagine how the whole school and wizarding world would take it.