He remembered the day she'd appeared at his door. No words of love were exchanged. They never kissed. He still didn't know if she'd fancied it a pity fuck or if she simply had been every bit the whore he still called her in his mind.

Turning bloodshot, wilted green eyes to his, nose running as she swiped at her raw nostrils with a crumpled tissue, she informed Snivellus she was in love with James, so he shouldn't read anything into this. She just couldn't believe her darling James--they were barely out of Hogwarts and already he was interested in another woman. Was there something wrong with her, that she couldn't hold his interest? How pitiful and repulsive it was. Everything in Snivellus had curdled away from her until she pressed her warm breasts into his hands and straddled his lap, rubbing his hardness through his pants. And then a heated fog consumed his mind.

It was his first time with a woman. Greasy-haired and scrawny, with an overlarge nose and hostile bearing, he could do no better, and she knew it. She knew it with that malignant smirk on her lips and that coldness in her green eyes, even as she moaned against his skin, even as she grew slick under his caresses.

He fucked her then, hard, carelessly. Not one kiss. Afterwards they both were damp, sticky, and she looked nauseated.

He'd sneered at her to get dressed and get out. He'd thrown ‘mudblood' at her. He was already a Death Eater. He suspected she knew it, too. She dressed, didn't meet his eyes. Her shoulders were stiff as she buttoned her robes.

It was true that he'd watched her from a distance long before that, repulsed by his strange attraction to the mudblood, sickened each time James Potter would grip her waist with a possessive hand; how filthy she was, with the likes of Potter drooling over her, with that Muggle blood running through her veins. Yet he always watched. Somehow she'd known it, too. She'd guessed it. She'd sought him out that night when she wanted desperately to hurt Potter, to hurt herself, and like the pathetic, sniveling creature Potter and Black made him out to be, he'd obliged her.

How he wished he'd thrown her out of the room with a derisive laugh. He could have sneered at her and scorned her for the rest of his life if he'd done that. He would have remained pure. But he'd been weak and played right into her hands. He'd fucked her, and the next day she was back cuddling with Potter, pledging their undying love to each other through a sickeningly joyous flood of tears.

Whenever he saw her after that, he felt vaguely used and sullied. It was difficult to face the Dark Lord and not remember the feel of the mudblood's nails digging into his back, her warm body clinging to his, her eyes...

He regretted it then, he regretted it now.

Yet he'd felt a strange pang of... something when he heard only months later that Lily Evans had become Lily Potter. He'd tasted something bitter in his mouth when he'd learned of her healthy baby boy... Another bloody Potter. And when she'd died for that brat, slaughtered along with her darling James to preserve her worthless spawn, something inside Severus went very cold and still, and remained that way long enough for him to forget it had ever been otherwise.

* * *

He was aware of his sense of betrayal, and not a little horror that the Potter hell spawn was his son and Dumbledore had clearly known it. Apparently, the Headmaster had actively hidden this from him. The boy looked every inch the Potter; there had to be a powerful glamour of some sort, because he knew the 'Snape Nose' was irrepressible. Had Dumbledore cast the concealment charm himself, or had Lily? Had Pott-- Harry's identity been hidden at the Headmaster's behest or at Lily Potter's?

And no, Snape would not have wanted the impertinent brat for himself, but they had no right to hide this from him! Especially not after the boy's 'parents' had died.

Snape was sickened that Dumbledore clearly believed the boy was better off as an orphan than as Snape's son. He'd trusted Dumbledore. Of all people to betray him, he was the worst. He'd pledged his loyalty to Dumbledore's cause, overthrown his entire life and all his allegiances for Dumbledore's sake... And sweet Merlin, the man had lied to him and obliviated him!

Charms had never been Snape's strong suit, so it took him a good deal of time to locate a proper impermeable spell to protect his newly recovered memory from future attempts at obliviation. He sat in the library several hours before finding a decent one, angry thoughts raging through his head, contemplating the best way to confront Dumbledore. He didn't give much thought to Potter himself; the boy's genetic identity was a secondary issue next to the sheer horrendous fact that the Headmaster had betrayed him. He should go back to the Dark Lord just to show the man--

Snape halted those thoughts before they went farther.

It spoke powerfully of his state of mind that he'd intentionally skipped his afternoon Potions classes just to search for this charm. Snape felt smug, knowing the brats had probably waited most of the class period for him to show up, as terrified as they were of him. Well, let them wait. He knew Dumbledore would summon him to his office afterwards, and he would show the man that he couldn't get away with this. Of course, depending on how concerned Albus was, he might even walk to Snape's own chambers, which would be just fine; he'd appreciate the chance to confront the Headmaster in his own territory.

And true to form, the Headmaster showed up in his chambers that very night, his blue eyes very sad and concerned. Just like the night you oblivated me, Snape thought angrily.

The Headmaster was one of the few people who could read his countenance. Snape was furious and distraught, and the man picked up upon it immediately. "How are you feeling, Severus?"

Snape stared at him for a protracted moment, then gestured with a flick of his wand to the pensieve resting upon his desk. "You might want to have a look at that, Headmaster." His voice was tight and strained.

Dumbledore gazed at him a moment more, trying to figure out what was going in Snape's head, then gave a graceful nod. Snape watched coldly as the man prodded the pensieve and bent over it; he'd stuck a duplicate rather than his actual memory in that pensieve, not trusting Dumbledore one inch.

When the Headmaster rose from looking into the pensieve, his face was very neutral. "So you know. I take it you have many questions."

"Just when were you going to tell me about this, Albus?" Snape's voice was unusually cold even to his own ears; somehow the rage and betrayal had expressed itself in a tone of molten ice.

Dumbledore's blue eyes were alert and not a little bit wary as he observed the Potions Master bristling before him. Severus Snape, though not a wizard of Dumbledore's own caliber, was still a dangerous man well-versed in the darkest of arts. And he was probably enraged enough to employ that long underutilized knowledge against the aged headmaster.

"In all honesty, Severus," Dumbledore said softly, still watching him very carefully, "I was never planning to tell you."

Something dangerous flared behind Snape's eyes, but the man's years of self-restraint held it in check behind his pale, pinched expression. In a deceptively mild voice, "And why did you choose to withhold this knowledge?" Then his voice lowered into a hiss that revealed his stinging sense of betrayal, "What right did you think you had to hide this from me?"

"It was Lily's decision," Dumbledore said, refusing to acknowledge the other man's ire. "And I supported it. She did not wish to disrupt her marriage, and she did not believe you were ready to assume responsibility for the well-being of a child. I agreed." When Snape's jaw tensed impossibly tighter, Dumbledore added, "And I still believe we made the right choice."

Snape stared at him as though he'd suddenly unmasked a hidden enemy.

Through gritted teeth: "It wasn't your decision to make. And it wasn't hers. Pot--that boy was as much my son as hers, and she forfeited her claim on him when she threw herself into the path of a killing curse!"

Dumbledore shook his head gravely, never breaking eye contact with the younger man. "A true parent would appreciate Lily for her sacrifice rather than scorn her for it." He rose slowly, avoiding any sudden movements that might ignite the already volatile man. "She died protecting her child. You could not understand that at the time, and I don't believe you can now. You're only angry with me because I have taken something you see as rightfully yours; you never would have loved the child, nor valued him as a son." He gazed at Snape gravely, "And you would have scorned him all these years for carrying the blood of his mother just as you've scorned him for his father's."

"James Potter was never his father," Snape growled.

"And neither were you."

"And it's you I have to thank for that," Snape said bitterly.

It was Dumbledore's turn to stare. "Surely you don't want the boy."

"Of course I don't!" Snape roared. "But I would have appreciated the choice! You concealed this from me, you obliviated me!"

Dumbledore sighed. "Severus, I had the same fears then that I do now."

"And what fears are those?" His voice was low and dangerous. "Apart from my being ill-prepared 'to assume responsibility for the well-being of a child.'"

Dumbledore held his eyes firmly, completely unflappable. "I did not and do not want you to use Harry as some form of revenge against James Potter. As far as Harry is concerned, and as far as James was concerned, they are father and son. Were he still alive, I have no doubt you would take Harry from James purely out of spite. And now that he's dead, I think you would take possession of Harry simply to strike at his memory."

"I never realized you had such a low opinion of me, Headmaster," Snape said coolly. Dumbledore's words shouldn't have hurt. Really, they shouldn't have.

"Severus," Dumbledore looked like he was going to reach out to him, but Snape's cold glare dissuaded him. "I believe you are a good, courageous man; you have survived and persevered though the worst this life has to offer. You are one of our most valuable fighters against Voldemort." He paused, as if considering his words very carefully. "But I believe James Potter was and remains your gaping blind-spot. I don't trust you to be objective in this matter. And your opinion of Harry has always been... less than positive. With that said--" He made a small movement with his wand.

"Don't you dare try to obliviate me again," Snape hissed, eyes narrowing furiously. "I've cast an impermeable charm. It will not succeed, and rest assured, I will never forgive you."

Dumbledore stared at him a moment. "With that said, I have business elsewhere to attend." He paused, searching Snape's expression for something. "I hope you will inform me if you intend to act upon this knowledge."

"I hope you will inform me if there are any other earth-shattering secrets you're concealing," Snape retorted. "Perhaps I have some other sons? Daughters? A sister out there somewhere? I can't imagine I'm ready to assume responsibility for them. "

Dumbledore looked very, very sad as he moved to depart. "I am very sorry for what I had to do, Severus," he said softly, "But it seemed to be for the best. An old man's error--"

"Don't try to excuse it," Snape hissed. "Just get out!"

With a sad nod of his head, Dumbledore left.