Harry was falling, his heart ripping to shreds as he spiraled downwards toward an endless chasm of black. And then Harry was sprawled on his back on the floor of Dumbledore’s office, staring up into Remus’ anxious face.

“Lily,” Harry gasped and Remus sucked in a surprised breath above him.

“Harry?” Remus shook Harry’s shoulder gently. Harry blinked in confusion before pushing himself up unsteadily. Remus helped him sit up and Harry looked around for Snape, his stomach in knots.

Snape was hunched over in one of the Headmaster’s cushy chairs, his large hand covering his face. McGonagall was hovering over the Potions Master with a very concerned twist to her normally pinched lips. Snape didn’t seem to notice her, or anyone else in the room as he sat, his shoulders quivering slightly. Harry swallowed, trying to force down the large lump in his throat.

He was glad, Harry told himself firmly. Of course he was. Snape was not his father. James and Lily had always been his parents. He should be thrilled. Why, then, Harry wondered did he feel a deep emptiness echoing wretchedly throughout his limbs?

“Harry, what happened?” Remus was staring at Harry and Harry finally pulled his gaze from Snape’s hunched form.

Words tumbled from Harry’s lips before he could stop them. “Snape’s not my father. It was a lie. James was my father all along.”

Harry expected Remus to look at him in confusion and ask for an explanation to Harry’s babble, but Remus only narrowed his eyes for a brief second then turned toward Snape, a look of pity dawning on his scarred face.

“Remus?” Harry asked confusion and then in accusation, “You knew? You knew about this?!” Harry pushed himself up again, onto his feet, his voice ringing with anger as he glared at Remus.

Both Dumbledore and McGonagall had turned toward the pair and at once Harry realized, as he noted the sad slump to the Headmaster’s eyes that the Headmaster had known too. Harry balled his hands into fists as he began to shake in rage. A small glass ball on Dumbledore’s desk started to tremble.

Remus grabbed both of Harry’s arms and said sharply, “Harry! Get a hold of yourself!” Harry’s breathing felt ragged and he wanted to scream until his voice became hoarse with the force of it, but Remus held firmly to the boy and as Harry stared into Remus’ caring brown eyes, he slowly began to relax. When Harry was still, Remus released his grip.

Harry bit his lip to stop the quiver and asked him quietly, “Why didn’t you tell me?”

Remus sighed. “There was no reason to tell you,” he told Harry wearily. “It wouldn’t have changed anything.”

“You could have told me my mum was married to Snape.”

Remus’ mouth fell open. “Married?” he echoed and now it was Harry’s turn to stare at the werewolf in confusion. Remus however, turned swiftly again to stare at Snape.

“How could you not know that?” Harry demanded of his friend.

“Enough.” Snape had finally risen from the chair and though his face was ashen, his voice was steady, though it was lacking its usual venom.

But Harry was not going to back down so easily. There were more questions now than answers. “Just how many lies have there been?” he demanded, to the room in general this time. “How many?” His voice was harsh and all but Snape were looking at him.

With a vicious snarl, Snape moved toward the door.

“Stay, if you would, Severus,” came the Headmaster’s calm request.

Snape whirled back on Dumbledore. “I will not discuss this further, Albus.,” he told the Headmaster, his fists clenched at his sides.

Dumbledore narrowed his eyes slightly before saying simply. “You will stay.”

Snape’s jaw clenched and Harry took an involuntary step back at the dangerous look in Snape’s eyes. The Headmaster however was unmoved and he held Snape’s gaze until Snape growled and glided over to the fireplace, his movements rife with resentment.

“Minerva, if you would excuse us, please?” McGonagall pursed her lips and Harry was glad Dumbledore had not asked Remus to leave as well, as he didn’t want another thing to argue with the Headmaster about.

McGonagall left without a word. Once the door had closed quietly behind her, Dumbledore turned back to Harry.

“I will try to explain and I want your word, Harry that you will listen without interruption.”

“But,” Harry began, but the Headmaster shook his head.

“Your word, Harry,” Dumbledore insisted, leaving Harry no other recourse. Harry nodded once and waited as his stomach churned.

Dumbledore gazed at Snape’s back, the old wizard’s eyes sparkling with grief before turning back to Harry with a solemn look.

“You know, I believe, that your parents and Professor Snape were all in the same year, here at Hogwarts.” He allowed Harry to nod before continuing. “Your mother and Professor Snape were friends throughout all their years here. From what I understand, your mother accepted a date with James during their Seventh Year…it didn’t go well and your mother and Professor Snape became much closer soon after that. They were married a few years later. It had to remain a secret as they couldn’t risk Professor Snape’s parents discovering.”

Remus made a small, unintelligible noise at this, but Harry paid little attention as he chanced a glance at Snape and he thought he saw the Potions Master stiffen at the Headmaster’s words. With his brow furrowed in confusion, Harry focused again on what Dumbledore was saying.

“Voldemort had gained much support by this time and Professor Snape's father, Tobias, had already taken the Dark Mark. Tobias died before he was able to force his son to do the same. Professor Snape’s mother insisted that he take the Mark as his father had wished.” Dumbledore took a slight breath before he continued, “She knew Professor Snape was against it and that he was friends with Lily. She threatened to kill Lily if he did not obey.”

Remus and Harry sucked in twin breaths of horror. Dumbledore paused, again directing his gaze toward Snape. Snape’s face was cast in shadows as the light from the small fire in the hearth flickered darkly against his sallow skin. Harry felt a stab of sorrow for his Professor.

Blackmailed by his own mother….

“Professor Snape agreed, but only after he and Lily devised a Charm which they cast on Professor Snape before he took the Mark. Lily was trying to lessen Voldemort’s power over Professor Snape.” Harry opened his mouth to ask what exactly he meant, but the Headmaster shook his head lightly, reminding Harry of this promise not to interrupt so Harry dutifully closed his mouth again; he didn’t Dumbledore to stop talking.

“In truth, Professor Snape was acting as a spy for the Order. Right after he took the Mark, Professor Snape learned that Lily was expecting a baby…you, Harry.” Harry grimaced with the two conflicting memories from the past few days, the second still so harsh in his conscious that Harry flinched with a pain that he wasn’t sure was his own.

The Headmaster studied the wall for a long minute before finishing the tale, his voice sadder than Harry had ever heard it. “James agreed to act as Lily’s husband and as your father…James still cared very much for your mother. They told no one the truth, save the Healer who delivered you. Professor Snape, James and your mother lived in Professor Snape’s house for almost two years. Almost 15 months after you were born, your mother,” again a glance toward Snape, who still had not moved as far as Harry could tell, “…your mother informed Professor Snape that James was your father, not he.”

“She told me…she hadn’t been sure who your father was,” Remus said abruptly. “She and James, they-” he didn’t finish as he seemed to realize that Snape was still in the room with them. But he didn’t need to finish his thought; Harry got the idea.

“But Professor Dumbledore said that nobody else knew,” Harry said in confusion, wanting to banish certain images from his mind.

“Lily was….in some distress after Severus left. James thought I could help her. I figured out eventually that Lily was married to James for protection; I hadn’t realized until now that they weren’t actually married….”

Harry felt another pang of grief, this one for his mother. But his confusion outweighed that emotion by far so he put it aside hastily and asked Remus, “But, I don’t understand…wouldn’t it have been easier to just tell Sna-Professor Snape earlier,” he amended quickly, feeling an inexplicable need to show some measure of respect toward the man.

“Why bother with the whole charade, when she could have just told him before I was born?” he asked, his head cocked to the side as he tried to puzzle it out. Harry waited for Remus to answer.

Remus’ lips trembled as he finally spoke, his voice clogged with pain. “Because she loved him,” he said simply.

Harry jumped as a hand slapped down harshly on brick. He whirled to see Snape, his eyes dancing with fury, facing the other three wizards in the room.

“Enough of this!” Snape roared, his voice shaking with unsuppressed rage. Dumbledore opened his mouth but Snape cut him off with another roar, “No, Albus! No, I will not relive this. He is not my son. None of this matters, do you hear me? None of this!” He punctuated his words as his hand slammed into one of Dumbledore’s chairs and the chair was flung to the floor with a resounding clatter.

Harry cringed backward and he barely noticed as Remus pulled him slightly behind his body, using it as a shield against whatever Remus though Snape capable of.

At Remus’ gesture, Snape snarled, the sound so feral it was frightening. Before Harry could register how he’d left, Snape was gone. Harry stared at the spot in front of the fireplace where he’d been.

Silence reigned in Dumbledore’s office and Harry pulled himself out from behind Remus, feeling rather foolish for standing behind his friend like a coward. Remus shifted in front of him, allowing Harry to step to the side and away from him. Harry wrapped his arms around his middle as though a sudden draft had chilled the room. Remus and Dumbledore were both watching him in considerable concern.

Harry sighed.

“I’m fine,” he said wearily.

Remus looked doubtful but he nodded, giving Harry the space he needed. With a slight frown, he said, “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, Harry. But, there didn’t seem to be any point…just as Professor Snape said,”

Even though it seemed that Harry should be angry with Remus, or at least a bit annoyed, he couldn’t be. The man had a point. Nothing had been gained from any part of this wretched evening. So, he nodded at his friend, which earned him a sad smile.

“Harry, I think you should get some sleep. It’s late,” Remus said mildly and Harry nodded; sleep sounded wonderful.

“Good night, then,” Harry said tiredly, addressing both wizards.

“Good night, my boy.”

“Good night, Harry.”

And for the second time in as many nights, Harry allowed Dumbledore’s stairs to spin him back to the castle’s main level.

----------------------------

Harry sat on his bed, long after the other Sixth Year boys had gone to sleep, staring morosely at his Pensieve.

It was over, done with. Harry didn’t have any extra lies ‘mucking up his life’, so why then did he feel so churned up inside?

Had he been hoping, even with the awfulness that would come with it, that Snape would claim him as his son? But, Harry couldn’t believe that was it, not really. Harry wasn’t quite satisfied though, as if there was still something that didn’t fit. And, then as Harry stared at the Pensieve, Hermione’s words came back at him

“A Pensieve can hold more than one memory.”

That was it! The Pensieve. That’s what didn’t make sense after everything that had happened in Dumbledore’s office. Who had put that memory in the Pensieve and why that specific memory, if it had been nothing but a lie?

Unless…Harry thought with a jolt of excitement, there were more memories in the Pensieve, just as Hermione had said. Memories that would explain everything. Dumbledore had promised he would do as much, but he hadn’t at all. Something just didn’t feel right.

Making as little noise as he could, so as not to wake his friends, Harry stood and took the two steps over to the Pensieve. Wishing briefly that Ginny were here again so he wouldn’t have to do this alone, Harry peered into the Pensieve’s silvery-white memories and was pulled downward, through a wall of ice and came out the other side, in a bright parlor, with a crackling fire.

Harry wondered briefly why he hadn’t gone back to St. Mungo’s. Maybe the Pensieve could tell where he’d left off? He’d have to ask Hermione in the morning, he mused pointlessly.

Harry looked around the room. It was empty. But, a second later James Potter walked in, his arms full of toddler. Harry’s throat constricted. This must be it then, he thought. James was his dad.

“James?” a woman’s voice called from somewhere else in the house. James plucked a half-chewed biscuit from little Harry’s hand before turning slightly toward the sound.

“We’re in the parlor!” he called out, then yelped out in protest as Harry yanked a fistful of James’ hair, in retribution it seemed for James’ acquisition of the boy’s biscuit.

Sixteen-year old Harry grinned in delight at his younger self’s antics and the disgruntled look on his dad’s face.

“No, no, Harry. Mustn’t pull James’ hair,” he told the little boy, who in turn made a swipe at his biscuit with a whine.

Lily walked in as James was trying unsuccessfully to pull the biscuit from Harry’s grasp, her arms laden down with books. With a sigh, she set the books down on a table and grabbed her wand and with a quick motion, the biscuit vanished completely, setting off an ear-splitting wail from little Harry. His older self winced at the sound.

“Honestly, James,” Lily said impatiently, sounding to Harry’s ears exactly like Hermione and Harry had to grin. “Biscuits right before dinner, indeed!”

James shrugged sheepishly and began tossing the toddler in his arms, up into the air and little Harry began to squeal in delight, forgetting all about his vanished biscuit.

“James! Stop that this instant.” Harry started at the deep voice. Harry turned again, this time to see Snape striding into the room, a frown on his face.

James grinned at him, and caught little Harry in his arms. The toddler looked about to cry again but then he caught sight of Snape and his little face split into a wide grin.

“Daddy!” he cried and Snape sent a reproachful to look to Lily, who was smiling innocently at him. “Daddy!” the little boy called again and began wiggling for James to let him down. James complied and with a toddler’s unsteady steps, Harry hurried to Snape. Snape bent slightly and scooped the boy into his arms when Harry stopped to reach toward him.

Harry had stilled as soon as he heard his younger self calling Snape ‘daddy’. He watched in fascination as Snape planted a kiss on little Harry’s forehead. The little boy reached a grubby hand to pat the older man’s cheek and Snape smiled a little, the expression so startling to Harry that he sucked in a breath as he watched the scene.

Snape pulled the little boy slightly from his body and said, “Father. Say Father, Harry.”

“Daddy,” the little boy insisted and tugged at Snape’s hair. Snape sighed and shifted the boy slightly in his arms. He turned to Lily but Lily laughed, the sound tinkling merrily in the room.

“Just accept it, Sev. You’re Daddy.” Snape made a sort of grumpy harrumph but then ruffled little Harry’s messy hair, in a way that Harry could only call indulgent.

“Come along, Harry. Dinner is ready.” Snape turned and with Harry’s arms wrapped firmly around Snape’s neck, they walked from the room, with Lily and James following closely behind.

The scene shifted abruptly and Harry blinked, trying to adjust his eyes to the new shadowy room he was now standing in. It seemed to be a dingy pub of some sort. The smoke was thick in the room, the smell of Firewhisky so pungent that it made Harry wrinkle his nose in disgust.

He looked around, trying to find Lily, who he assumed must be here somewhere. She was.

Lily was sitting with James at a small, round wooden table, her face pale and drawn. Her hands were twitching in unexpected nervousness on the tabletop in front of her. James reached out a hand and put it gently atop Lily’s. He gave it a gentle squeeze and Lily smiled at him gratefully.

Harry moved closer toward the table. This must be it, he decided. His mum was going to tell his dad about Harry. Harry wasn’t prepared then as a tall, well dressed woman appeared opposite Lily and James. Harry looked up at her; her face was drawn back in a somehow prim scowl.

“I asked you to come alone, Ms. Evans.”

“Just tell us what you want,” James growled at her and Harry was startled by the venom in his father’s voice.

The woman narrowed her eyes and when she did, Harry did a double take. She looked like Snape. This had to be Snape’s mother. Harry felt his face heating with anger at her.

“Very well,” Snape’s mother said coolly and perched herself on the only other chair at the table.

“I know you are bound to my son. And that he is the father of your bastard son.”

James’ face convulsed in anger beside Lily. “How dare you?” he whispered angrily, presumably not wanting to arouse the attention of the other patrons in the pub.

Snape’s mother looked at him askance before turning back to Lily. “I have plans for my son, Ms. Evans. And they do not include a Mudblood marriage.” James clenched his fists, his face again contorting in rage, but Lily reached a hand to still his movements before he could speak. She looked at Snape’s mother steadily though her eyes were filled with pain.

“Severus has his own plans,” Lily said evenly.

Snape’s mother arched her thin eyebrow. “My son must break ties with you immediately,” she said, her eyes burning into Lily’s.

“He will not,” Lily told her firmly.

“Then, you will leave him, Ms. Evans…or your son and husband will die.” She said the words without heat, but they left no room for doubt.

She would kill her own son? Harry’s head spun at her words.

“If you harm one hair on Harry’s head, I-”

“You will do nothing, coward,” Snape’s mother spat at James and then said with intensity to Lily, “You will tell my son that the boy is not his, that you do not love him. I know my son and you are right, he will not leave…unless you tell him to.”

Snape’s mother stood abruptly. “You have three days, Ms. Evans. If Severus does not leave, I will kill them both.”

As James jumped up from his seat, all thoughts of discretion gone as he made a move to grab the hateful woman, she turned on the spot and was gone. With an anguished sob, Lily grabbed James’ arm, her entire body shaking uncontrollably. Harry watched with an aching heart as James sat heavily back into his seat and pulled Lily to him, letting her cry brokenly into his chest.