It had taken Ron three days and many surreptitious kicks under the table in the Great Hall to stop goggling back and forth between Harry and Snape. Even after that, the redhead glared at Snape with renewed suspicion each time they passed each other in the hall.

"Are you sure, Harry?" Ron questioned again, scowling as he scrubbed the bedpan. "He was a Death Eater. It could be a trick!"

"Yeah, because Voldemort would have a whole lot to gain from…" Harry glanced around the hospital wing quickly, lowering his voice, "… tricking me into thinking my dad's actually that greasy git. Seriously, Ron, do you think Snape would willingly go along with something like that? He hates me. He hates knowing that he's the one who's… well, responsible for my existence."

He saw concern creep into Ron's expression. Harry rolled his eyes and turned his face from the other boy's scrutiny.

"It doesn't matter. I hate him, too."

"It must be, uh, a bit disappointing. You know," Ron fumbled, clearly stepping outside his comfort zone trying to say the right thing. "You were an orphan. And now you have a dad. But he's Snape. I mean… that must be bad for you."

Harry shrugged. "No big loss."

"Yeah," Ron persisted, "But still… I mean, you must have wondered what it would be like if—"

"Can we stop talking about this?" Harry interrupted him sharply. "You've been asking me nonstop about him for the last few days. I'm sick of talking about it, okay?"

He felt the weight of Ron's gaze on his back, and Harry turned his attention to scrubbing furiously at the bedpan.

Snape hadn't been joking when he promised dire consequences for Harry's drunken escapade. From cleaning out stalls for Hagrid to this current distasteful task, Harry had come in contact with all manner of unpleasant stenches in the last few days. And now that Snape had ordered him to resume Occlumency lessons on top of these physically exhausting detentions, a leaden feeling of dread settled in his stomach every time the final minutes of detention ticked away.

"Listen, mate—"

"Ron, I said—"

"Look!" Ron interjected, setting his bedpan down and crossing the room to hover in front of Harry. "I know he's a git, and he's not going to change, okay? But have you ever thought about the other stuff that comes with a father, eh? I mean, your parents didn't really leave anyone behind for you. But maybe Snape has a brother or a sister, or some other family you might like better. Just because he's a prat doesn't mean all his relatives are. You turned out okay!"

Harry thought back to those brief flashes of that crying boy in Snape's memories, and shook his head.

"No, his family's not… it's not a good idea—"

"Come on! They can't be worse than your aunt and uncle."

Well…

"I couldn't meet them anyway," Harry argued. "Septimus doesn't exist!"

"You can't right now. But maybe after You-Know-Who is gone, things will be a bit different."

Harry shot him an uncertain glance.

"Why are you pushing this?" He smiled uneasily. "That eager to get rid of me?"

He felt a little sick even as he said the words. He knew he spent more time with the Weasleys than he probably should. Maybe Ron was growing tired of Harry latching onto his family…

"No," Ron said earnestly. "You just— you know we all think of you as practically another Weasley, right? But you didn't come with us for Christmas. You don't seem to think—"

"I wanted you to be safe!" Harry protested, cheeks flaming.

He'd stayed at Hogwarts to protect them, not because he was rejecting the Weasleys! How could they think—

"I know," Ron said firmly. "But I'm just saying, I know there are things that'll hold you back from us. Maybe it would be good for you if you knew you had something else out there… something that's just yours."

Harry stared at Ron, amazed at how much thought the other boy had put into this. "Careful, Ron. You're starting to sound like Hermione."

Ron grinned ruefully. "You know, I've spent the past few days trying to figure out what she'd want me to say about this. For the record, I can't imagine a relative of Snape's being anything other than a greasy bastard— but you should still look into it."

Harry couldn't help laughing. "Fine."

Ron still looked thoughtful. "About Hermione… Are you sure—"

"NO!" snapped Harry.

"All right," Ron said a touch defensively.

Harry turned back to his bedpan. The temptation to tell Hermione was almost overwhelming for him, too, but he couldn't help imagining Ron vacant-eyed and drooling, with Snape smirking after having successfully scrambled his brain.

No… Best not to risk it. He couldn't bear losing his best friend to that.

* * *

Ron's suggestion lingered in his thoughts, though, like some illness he simply couldn't shake. So after a singularly unsuccessful Occlumency session that left Harry doubled over in a chair with the horrible, splitting pain of his scar, he gathered his thoughts as Snape tried to force-feed him a Tranquility Draught.

"Do we have any other family?" Harry asked Snape.

Snape's black eyes bore into his for a long moment, then the grip on his chin tightened and Harry felt the liquid slip between his lips. He swallowed automatically, and was only slightly disoriented when Snape yanked him up and shoved him towards the door.

"Go to bed, Potter!"

"I was just curious," Harry said belligerently.

Snape's eyes glittered darkly. "Out!"

The Tranquility Draught had kicked in, so Harry felt oddly at ease as he shrugged off the incident and returned to Gryffindor Tower.

The following afternoon, Lupin praised him generously enough in class that he felt confident enough to start a conversation with Remus outside the Great Hall. It took only moments for the horrible awkwardness creep up between them, and with a strangely guarded look, Remus made his excuses and left.

Harry stared after him bleakly. His emotions only darkened when he noticed Snape several feet away, witness to the whole awful exchange. His Professor only made things so much better by choosing that moment to swoop in on him and assign him detention. For no reason. On top of his detention with Filch for that evening.

It was a strangely complacent Snape waiting when Harry dragged himself into the office, and he was too exhausted to show his astonishment when Snape gestured him into a chair.

"I have no siblings," Snape said in a formal manner. "Your grandmother passed away when I was a second-year, and your grandfather followed several years after that. Many of my father's family live in Hungary, but I maintain little contact with them. Does that satisfy your curiosity?"

Harry stared at him, surprised. "Er, yes."

He was aware of an acute disappointment he hadn't expected to feel. He was glad he hadn't gotten his expectations up. It would have been stupid of him to let Ron's words put visions in his head of, say, cousins his age who didn't beat him up, or benign uncles who clapped him on the shoulders and called him by endearing nicknames…

No, he hadn't let himself be taken by such stupid fantasies.

He tried not to let his dejection show, and steeled himself for the impending detention. Snape rolled his eyes and rose to his feet.

"Although the vast majority of my bloodline are useless wastrels with little to recommend them apart from their ability to mangle the English language, I do have an uncle who cultivates Europe's finest gillyweed. I've intended to restock for several weeks now. If you hold your tongue, you may remain in this room while I contact him… He does have several granddaughters around your age who delight in inflicting us with their presence during these discussions."

As far as kind gestures went, it was hardly the most generous on record, but it still astonished Harry.

"You'd… let me stay?" Harry stuttered.

Snape sent him a sour look. "I insist on silence if you remain. I do not care to explain a strange young man's presence to him. You will stand in the corner, and I will bring him through the floo. Have you your invisibility cloak on you?"

Harry forced down his reluctance to give Snape knowledge of its whereabouts and nodded.

"Wear it," Snape ordered.

Harry scrambled to yank it from his bag and pull it over his head. He was still amazed Snape was doing this for him. Yes, he understood that the Potions Professor clearly needed to contact the man anyway, but when it came to Snape, this was downright generous.

Snape stared dourly at what Harry knew was his now-invisible form for several seconds more, before adding, "And for the record, Potter, I was not deceived for a single moment the day you accosted Draco Malfoy in that thing."

Harry tried not to smirk, remembering Draco's panic their third year upon spotting Harry's head floating mid-air.

"I know," Harry said, voice slightly muffled by the cloak. "Actually, even before I knew you were an Occlumens, I was pretty sure you could read minds."

"I would say that was an astute observation, Mr. Potter, but I have difficulty lending credit for intellectual prowess to a boy who still cannot get it through his head that Legilimency is not mind-reading."

Harry glared at him through the invisibility cloak as Snape scooped up a handful of floo-powder.

"Remember—"

"Silence, I know," Harry said impatiently.

Snape grimaced, as though an insult fought valiantly to escape his lips, then tossed the floo powder into the fireplace.

"Bassianus Snape!"

Harry waited expectantly.

Although on some level, he knew many of the purebloods were also his relatives, this was different. This was more than the simple inbreeding that went hand-in-hand with the pureblooded families. These were immediate relatives. His relatives. People other than Dudley and Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon who were so closely related to him—

Snape shifted impatiently in his seat.

"Bassianus!" he called again, glaring at the emerald flames. "Get in here, NOW!"

I see why they don't talk to him much, Harry thought wryly, settling back in his seat, watching Snape's thin lips curl in exasperation.

"That old codger has twelve house-elves," Snape growled. "One of them should at least have answered by now."

With an irritated sigh, Snape slid from his chair and knelt by the fireplace. He shot Harry a look that warned him not to cause trouble, then thrust his head into the flames.

"Ba—"

But as soon as Snape's head disappeared into the green flames, his entire body shot forward and vanished into the fireplace.

Harry leaped to his feet as the tail of the black robes was swallowed by flames.

* * *

"EXPELLI— My, my, Severus, no wand?"

Snape's dread settled like a leaden weight in his stomach, and he forced his head up from the carpet to meet the smirking face of Lucius Malfoy. The other wizard looked far more confident and collected than at any point in the weeks since their confrontation.

"What a delightful coincidence!" Lucius declared. "Here I was just looking for a decent glass of wine, and who should pop up in the fireplace but my dearest Severus himself!"

Snape's hand whipped out to the jar of floo powder, only to feel the fragile glass explode at his fingertips as it was caught by Lucius's blasting curse.

"Now, this makes my job rather easier, doesn't it?" Malfoy purred.

Snape didn't hear the next hex that hit him, but something like electricity tore through his chest and limbs. He curled into a ball, his body wracked with pain and nausea, as the other Death Eater smoothly levitated him from the floor.

Snape relaxed passively into the magical grip, knowing he couldn't fight the spell. He instead cast his gaze around the hallway as Lucius floated him by door after door. This was, indeed, his uncle's abode. He'd thought at first that Lucius had somehow tapped into his floo to abduct him.

But, no. This was much, much worse. Lucius was in Bassianus's home.

"What," Snape asked harshly, "in the hell are you doing here?"

Lucius's laugh was low and husky, and it sent a new coil of fear through Severus's chest.

"Renewing an acquaintance of mine."

"Where are my relatives?" Snape demanded.

Lucius smiled. "Dead, mostly."

Dead?

Severus had no particular affection for his uncle or cousins, but the realization that Lucius had just killed them left him slightly troubled.

Malfoy ended the levitation spell with a jerk of his wand and unceremoniously dropped him to the floor of the reception hall. It took Snape several moments to fight down the lingering pain from Lucius's hex.

"Why are you here, Lucius?" Snape demanded, stumbling to his feet.

He was appalled to realize he felt nervous. Lucius was out for his blood, and he was all too aware he was at the other Death Eater's mercy.

"Why here? As in, this room?" Lucius asked smoothly, deliberately misreading Severus's question. His smile was genuine and unnerving, the hardship of the last year erased from the man's expression by his very real upper-hand in the situation. "Well, Severus, we can hear everything from here."

Snape tried not to let his confusion show, but Lucius seemed to detect it anyway; his smile widened. "Never fear, though. They can't hear us. I don't want our darling Bella to interrupt what I have in mind."

"Bellatrix…?"

Snape then fell silent, able to discern it for the first time. The muffled, distant sound of a person wailing.

"Bellatrix…" Snape repeated numbly.

"Hmm… Yes…" Lucius gazed idly at his fingernails, then sent Snape a coy look. "I did say they were mostly dead. I'm afraid you'll have to find someone else to supply you with Gillyweed. I fear your precious Bassianus will be in no state to do so again."

He didn't know whether the person being tortured was his uncle or one of his other relatives. Either way…

"What are you doing here, Lucius?" It took Snape an effort to keep his tone reasonable with the screams ringing in his ears. "Why is she here?"

Whoever it was— his uncle, he guessed— was crying out piteously now.

"He's a pureblood," Snape continued hoarsely. "She has no justification—"

"Bella does not like being kept from her possessions," Lucius interrupted brusquely, "and she's fully convinced your relations are blood traitors hiding a scintillating young half-blood from her."

A horrible smile stretched across Lucius's lips.

"But we both know better than that, don't we, Severus?'

"What do you mean?" Snape demanded, dreading the answer. He knew that Lucius was leading him into some snare with his words.

Malfoy leaned in closer, his gray eyes glittering with malice. "I'm talking about Septimus. That mysterious, young boy who doesn't even appear to exist."

"Don’t be ridi—"

"Caedo!"

Snape tumbled back to the ground as invisible fists slammed into his body. The pain receded as Lucius's impatience asserted itself, and he found himself on his back clutching his ribs, with the blonde aristocrat glaring down at him.

"Do you know just how many of your worthless kin I've questioned these last few days?" Lucius said coldly. "I've met eight different Septimus Snapes, but not a single one of them is our favorite little bastard. Do you know what I think?"

"I don't care—" Snape snarled.

"Crucio!"

Lucius grinned above him as Snape's world dissolved in pain. He couldn't help the screams that tore from his lips, and as soon as the spell dissolved, he found Lucius just inches away, staring at him intently.

"You lied to me about that boy," he spat. "So I thought about it…"

Malfoy leaned closer, smiling a bit maniacally.

"You sheltered a mysterious boy you claimed to be Hungarian kin, yet your Hungarian kin know nothing of him. This strange boy shares your blood, and is closely related enough to me that he can wield kinship curses upon me. And… best of all…" Lucius laughed at this notion, "you, my heartless friend, are protective of him. Do you know what my new conclusion is, Severus?"

Lucius's hand snaked around his neck, and he brought his lips to Snape's ear.

"Septimus Snape is your son."

Snape's throat clenched. "That's absurd—"

"You had a bastard with a Muggle," Lucius pronounced coldly, certain of his conclusion. "And you've hidden it from us all these years."

Snape needed to put a stop to this. "You listen, Lu—"

"Crucio," Lucius said almost playfully, triumphant laughter in his voice. "Don't bother lying to me."

The blonde aristocrat rocked back on his heels, enjoying Snape's cries of pain for what seemed like an endless length of time.

"He's not my son," Snape rasped as soon as the curse receded.

Lucius merely laughed.

"Severus… you fool," he said with malicious amusement. "Do you realize what you've given me? Of all the weaknesses you could have exposed, you should have taken this one to your grave!"

He heard Lucius's footsteps retreat across the room, and Snape forced himself up on shaky arms, mind racing desperately for some contingency plan.

"You know, the others thought I was mad to tangle with you," Lucius said unexpectedly.

Snape stared at the blonde aristocrat, surprised despite himself.

"They warned me that you're an inhuman monster with a thousand horrific poisons at your fingertips," Lucius continued lazily. "They claim you're a man of genius capable of deceiving even the great Albus Dumbledore. But their most salient point, Severus, and perhaps the one that has steered them clear of you for year after year, is the fact that you have nothing to lose. You love nothing, and I could therefore take nothing of value to you"

Snape realized with a sinking feeling that the other man was clearly beyond the point where he could sway him from his conclusions. Lucius knew he had a son. And he saw that son as a weapon to use against Severus.

But at least he didn't know that son was actually Harry Potter.

"I always found you rather pitiable," Lucius remarked, watching him intently. "No family, no friends. I was even convinced you were a virgin until I found out about your little bastard. For years, I thought it would be a mercy if someone ended your miserable existence. But this… this boy…" A smile crept across Malfoy's lips. "This son of yours… Well, Severus, you're not untouchable any longer."

"And how do you propose to use him against me?" he taunted softly, wondering if he could redirect Lucius's efforts towards finding the boy in the Muggle world. "You've had no luck finding him. I promise you, you'll never get to Septimus."

"Really?" Lucius smiled menacingly. "I think the boy has given me the perfect means whereby I might reach him, hasn't he? After all— we're kin. And now that I know exactly how closely related he and I are, I know exactly what spell to cast upon him."

With a flare of rage, Snape took a menacing step towards Malfoy, eyes glittering. "Keep in mind, dear friend, where Draco sleeps at night. You will encounter great difficulty locating my son, but I assure you, I will have no difficulty finding yours."

The color left Lucius's face. "You wouldn't. You've always liked Draco."

"I'm quite fond of Draco," admitted Snape mildly. "I wouldn't enjoy, say… discovering him strangled in his sleep, or perhaps watching him die in agony after a volatile ingredient ignites his potion… That's not to say I won't protect what's mine." He smiled darkly. "I simply will not enjoy it."

Lucius was studying him intently, as though trying to gauge the severity of Snape's threat.

"You're not bluffing," Lucius raked his cold, assessing gaze over his opponent. "A pity, then, Severus, that I cannot possibly allow you the chance to follow through on that threat."

Snape stiffened imperceptibly, sensing the lethal turn of the conversation.

"I would have preferred to kill the boy before your eyes, but alas…" Lucius shook his head regretfully, "I'll have to content myself with the knowledge you'll die with your son's impending death on your conscience."

Lucius leveled his wand at his chest, and Snape felt his heart freeze.

"Our Master will destroy you if you do this," he warned Lucius desperately. "We both know of my worth to him."

Lucius smiled malevolently. "I suppose I should be grateful, then, that I'm the only one who knows you're here."

Oh hell…

It was strange. This was not the first time Severus had faced his own impending death, but somehow he'd never faced it with this horrible sense that it was happening at entirely the wrong moment. There was a nameless horror clawing at his heart, knowing that Lucius had defeated him so totally… that he'd practically handed Lucius the means to destroy Harry.

Snape cast his eyes around desperately for a way out… he even imagined he could see the front door creeping open and then closing again… but there was nothing he could do. Nothing.

He'd failed the Headmaster.

He'd failed his son.

Merlin, how had things gone wrong so quickly? He'd just found the damn boy and now he'd as good as killed him…

"AVADA KE—"

"Stupefy."

Snape was stunned when Lucius slumped bonelessly to the ground. Harry shrugged off his invisibility cloak in the doorway. The material pooled about the boy's feet, and he scooped it up before stepping tentatively into the room.

"Sorry… There had to be at least fifty doors in that hallway, and my point-me spell wasn't working," Harry remarked, approaching Lucius's fallen form. "What's Malfoy doing here? This is your uncle's house, right?"

Snape stared at him for an endless moment more, recovering his wits.

"Are you okay, Professor?"

Snape gathered his faltering strength and forced himself to his feet, amazed at his reprieve. "You followed me," he said disbelievingly.

"I know I should have told Professor Dumbledore," Harry said defensively, "But I had my invisibility cloak, and there wasn't really time. You just jerked into the fireplace, so I knew something had to be wrong—"

Snape waved him silent. He couldn't— he didn't trust himself to react in the proper manner to the boy's presumption.

There were more immediate problems at hand.

His eyes returned to Lucius's crumpled form. Well… there was only one way to do this now. He had no choice.

He ignored the painful protest of his limbs as he knelt to retrieve Lucius's wand. It was only when he aimed it that Harry cried, "What are you doing?"

Snape sent Harry a seething glare. "I'm killing him. He would have killed me. You saw that! Now hold your tongue, boy!"

"But… he's unconscious," Harry faltered. "It's not like he can hurt you now."

Oh, wonderful. Delicate Gryffindor squeamishness at the prospect of killing a helpless man.

"Can't we hand him over to the aurors?" Harry tried.

"This is not open to debate, Potter!" Snape snarled, raising his wand again. The killing curse leapt to the tip of his tongue when a distant door slammed. Harry's head snapped up in alarm, and Snape's every muscle tensed. He realized he couldn't hear his uncle screaming now.

"Is someone else here?" Harry asked, glancing between Snape's face and the open doorway.

"Quiet!" Snape said gruffly, grasping Harry by the arm and directing him roughly out into the hallway. He heard another door slam in the distance, closer.

He couldn’t kill Lucius. Malfoy's discretion was more reliable than the odds that Snape would be able to spirit away the body before Bellatrix happened upon them. He'd hoped to make the man simply disappear, as Lucius had intended to do to him. Killing Lucius would raise more problems than trusting that Malfoy would do his utmost to protect his own son.

Bellatrix Lestrange was still here. Although Snape was a proficient duelist, he did not care for his odds in a direct confrontation with her, should she walk in and find herself in the same room as Harry Potter.

And he didn't want to risk any foolish actions on his son's part, either.

Oh, he knew all too well the boy had originally learned those kinship curses with her in mind. And although Harry professed to shy from that thirst for vengeance, Snape couldn't help but remember those flashes of Bellatrix from their Occlumency lessons, as Black tumbled back through the veil. He knew full well Harry's feelings might change if he realized the woman he hated was only several rooms away from him.

He ushered Harry down the hallway, adrenaline propelling him forward despite the black spots dancing before his vision… those hexes were catching up with him.

Lucius would know, once he woke up, that Snape was back at Hogwarts, and back with Draco. He wouldn't dare act on the information about Septimus as long as Draco was in Snape's grasp. He wouldn't dare breach the matter with the Dark Lord unless he became absolutely certain of his advantage.

Severus had time to plan his next move… He just needed to get the damned boy back to Hogwarts before Bellatrix or Harry realized the other was there.

Snape scraped up the remaining floo powder and practically shoved Harry into the fireplace before staggering in himself. His raging anxiety did not die until he found himself sagging against his own desk in his office, gasping for breath.

He noticed Harry just now rising to his full height across from him, and was immediately overcome with a surge of fury.

"You IDIOT boy!"

What would have happened tonight, had Harry followed him through the floo and encountered Bellatrix Lestrange? What if the house had possessed some form of unveiling invisibility cloaks? What if Lucius had seen him first?

"WHAT were you thinking?" Snape roared, forcing himself upright from where he was slumped over the desk. "You should have—"

Harry was watching him expressionlessly, as though he expected this.

The words died on Snape's lips.

Harry had explained himself earlier.

"No time… should have called the Headmaster…"

And most inconveniently, Minerva's voice entered his mind. "He responds positively when he's well-treated."

Snape didn't want to say this. Maybe he could succumb to his injuries now and avoid this? He closed his eyes briefly, and although his entire body throbbed relentlessly, he remained steadfastly conscious.

Oh, hell.

"You saved my life," Snape admitted reluctantly.

He was tempted to feel smug at how shocked Harry looked.

"And I… appreciate it," he added.

The boy was completely stunned.

Snape smirked inwardly. Ha! The little brat clearly hadn't expected—

He had no chance to gloat before the world went black.