Severus stepped out of the Floo in Dumbledore's office and brushed tiredly,andpointlessly at his robes. There wasn't a speck of ash anywhere. With an exhaustedsigh, he began to climb the stairs that hugged the rounded wall of the tower andbrought him to the headmaster's living room-cum library-cum dining room.

The old man was ensconced in a deep burgundy, suede armchair, his glasses perched low on the long crooked nose, a sheath of parchment in his hand and another great stack on the small table beside the chair.

Albus was already peering towards the stairs, having heard the Floo, and when Severus appeared at the top, Albus smiled a fond welcome. But the sight of the shadows under Severus's eyes, and the uncharacteristic droop to his normally erect shoulders, wiped the smile away. Without a word, he picked up his wand, and with a rapid series movements, another chair shot into position in front, and slightly to the side of his own, along with another table. A tea-tray appeared as well, twirling in mid-air for a few seconds before settling gently on the tabletop.

Severus sank into the chair and with a sigh, he leaned his head back and closed his eyes. "I'm getting too old for this crap, Albus," he informed his friend. "I really don't know how much longer I can tolerate the degradation of serving that megalomaniac. I am a favourite at this point in time-much to Bella's everlasting, spiteful and pathetic jealousy-but that is just as nauseating to me as being the lowest of the low, who are nothing more than expendable foot soldiers, or are targets for his perverted sense of humour."

Albus remained silent as he poured two cups of aromatic, Darjeeling tea.  Severus inhaled deeply; the fruity, floral undertones helped to calm his emotions and soothe his tired muscles. Albus added the drop of milk that he knew Severus preferred and held the cup and saucer out. The fragrant steam tickled Severus's nose and his nostrils twitched appreciatively. Peeling his eyelids apart, he straightened his posture before taking the offering from Albus's very nearly normal-looking hand.

As Severus studied the hand with his healer's eye, Albus turned it over and back for him. "As you can see, my talented young friend, you did an exemplary job," he said with absolute sincerity.

Severus took a sip of his drink and raised a mocking eyebrow. "Don't you mean me, and that amazing wand of yours?"

Albus waved an airy hand. "The magic I produced with my wand was just a stopgap, my boy. It localised the damage until you could work the real magic." Albus stared at Severus over the top of his teacup. "You always have underestimated your contribution, Severus."

Severus huffed a self-deprecating laugh. "Yes, Albus, my contribution is inestimable. After all, how many others could say that they are a member of the Order of the Phoenix and that they just supplied their nemesis with a truly barbaric poison that could conceivably kill hundreds of Muggles and wizards alike?

"It will not kill as many as it would have done without your remarkable talent for obfuscation, Severus," contradicted Albus. "Your position is inestimable...because of you, we can, and do, make a small difference. Yes, terrible things still do happen, but without your presence in the enemy camp, we would not be able to anticipate any of his actions, and even more would die."

Albus knew that he could do little to alleviate the young man's guilt. That one huge, miscalculated step, nearly two decades ago was the albatross around Severus's neck that prevented him from thinking he had any right to even the smallest degree of contentment; nothing he had done since could compensate, in his opinion for the deeds that he had been forced to commit under the aegis of Lord Voldemort. And even after he had convinced his evil boss that he could be put to better use in his capacity as a healer and a potioneer, Severus had still witnessed too much murder and mayhem for him to ever feel clean again.

And though he had not participated for a long time in the bloody and torturous violence that was Voldemort's bread and butter, he had still remained, albeit with growing despair, within the ranks of the Death Eaters. It had taken the subject of the overheard prophecy and the relaying of its contents to Voldemort to make Severus decide he could no longer tolerate the horror of a life under the strictures of a genocidal maniac. And the subsequent, shocking decision by Voldemort to dispose of Lily and James Potter and their infant son had been the catalyst that had sent Severus back into Albus's orbit.

And though he had been bitter and unwilling to fully trust-and definitely not befriend-at that time, the man considered by many to be the greatest wizard of the age, Albus had managed to convince Severus Snape to fight for the light; to spy for them. And so he had...for seventeen months Severus had played one side against the other; he had convinced Voldemort that he had heard that the position of Potions Professor at Hogwarts had become available and that if he applied and was successful, he would be in the very camp of that Muggle-loving fool, Albus Dumbledore.

Voldemort had listened to his brilliant young potioneer and healer, but had not committed himself immediately. Instead, he had sent Severus away and had pondered the proposal; he had looked at it from every angle...had weighed the pros and cons, until, finally convincing himself that the idea had definite merit, he had agree to it. Indeed, so good was the idea, he had convinced himself that it was his own, and when he had called Severus back into his presence and had presented the idea as if it were his own, Severus had happily bowed to his Lord's amazing insight and had begun working for Albus Dumbledore.

But Voldemort had had one small trump up his sleeve that Severus had known nothing of...Peter Pettigrew. Voldemort had made sure to keep the fourth, and most ineffectual Marauder's presence within his ranks a secret from the rest of his followers; he did not want this second spy's presence , becoming general knowledge. And Peter Pettigrew had finally earned his keep by revealing the Potters' whereabouts, within hours of having been made the Secret Keeper for the young family.

Still, Severus had carried out his double duties-even if he could not offer up the identity of the traitor that Dumbledore was sure lurked within the Order-until the unparalleled happenings of that terrible Halloween night nearly fifteen years previously. The vanquishing of Voldemort by an infant, had meant that the continuation of Severus's spying duties could be put on hold...for how long, neither Albus, nor Severus had known, but they had both been positive that they had not seen the last of the Dark Lord.

Severus had wrapped himself firmly in his guilt, and he had carried out-albeit with little enthusiasm-his teaching duties at Hogwarts after Albus had gone to bat for him and kept him out of Azkaban. Few Death Eaters who had managed to talk their way out of Azkaban, trusted Severus Snape any longer, especially as their most hated nemesis, Albus Dumbledore had made it clear that Severus Snape fought for the side of the Light.

One who had maintained contact was Lucius Malfoy; he, in his arrogance could not conceive of any who had served Lord Voldemort being seduced to any other way of thinking. Lucius enjoyed the prestige of maintaining a friendship with one as clever and accomplished as Severus Snape and one whom his Lord had trusted implicitly. This pseudo-friendship had been beneficial to Severus and he had occasionally been able to furnish Dumbledore with information of a nature that may have led to a resurgence of dark activity if action had not been taken to curb any such occurrences.

It went without saying that Lucius and many others had maintained their beliefs in their pure-blood heritage making them superior to the lesser bred magical folk, but even Lucius, a man truly convinced of his superiority,  had not felt omnipotent enough to become the new face of evil. Even Bellatrix, if she had remained at liberty, would not have taken over from her Lord, because her belief in him and his doctrine had been all-consuming, and she had refused to believe him gone. But she would have happily continued along his evil route if she had been at liberty to do so, until such time as she could find him again and fall at his feet.

Severus finished his tea and replaced his cup and saucer on the table. Albus studied the young man before him with a discerning eye. Severus had not expressed his displeasure for his current lot in life quite so frequently, nor so vehemently as he had done over the last two weeks, since before the return of Voldemort a year ago. But Albus thought that he could sense a lightening of the man's unhappiness, a lessening of the lines of pain and discontent about his mouth and forehead, and a shadow of something that might have been hope within the ebony depths of his eyes.

Severus's voice was disgustedly resigned when he spoke. "The Dark Lord was rather preoccupied this afternoon; I'm sure he has something diabolical in the works, but he was far from forthcoming. I could sense Bella's discontent. He is not confiding in her and it's driving her insane...even more insane than she already is, which does not do a lot for a disposition that is truly delightful at the best of times."

"The charming witch cornered me as I was leaving and spewed vitriol all over me, before actually spitting at me." Severus brushed at a spot on the shoulder of his robes with a look of distaste adorning his features. "She is somewhat discontented that she is no longer considered to be the most loyal, the most trusted of that megalomaniac's remaining inner circle. She has been tarred with the same brush as Lucius because of the failed attempt to retrieve the prophecy; she is the lucky one though, because, despite it having been her hand that was responsible for the demise of Black, she escaped Azkaban."

Severus paused in his recital and stared back at Albus. "If she could, I am sure she would kill me. As it was, she hissed at me that as I seem to be totally incapable-or more to the point, in her opinion, totally disinclined-she was taking it upon herself to find Harry and present him, gift-wrapped to her Lord. It did not matter what I told her about the blood protection...she cannot conceive of not being able to do Harry harm even with the protection in play. She refuses to believe that your magic could be powerful enough to counter the Dark Lord's desires, despite evidence to the contrary. She is convinced that I do not wish Harry to be captured or killed."

"Very astute, our Mrs Lestrange," said Albus. "You have not tried very hard...you have not tried at all, even before your feelings for Harry changed."

Severus threw a narrow-eyed, warning glare at Dumbledore. He did not like being reminded of his history where it concerned Harry, neither the early history, nor the recent. He needed to come to terms with these changed circumstances by himself.

"The last thing we need Severus, is Bellatrix Lestrange running around mounting her very own vendetta against Harry, especially when her boss is so conveniently taking you at your word about his not being able to cause Harry, nor the Dursleys harm whilst Lily's protection is in play."

"Do you honestly think he really believes that, Albus?" asked Severus, scornfully. "Especially when the Dark Lord himself was able to possess Quirrell, and Bartemius Crouch Junior was able to guide Harry through the Tri-Wizard tournament with the purpose of sending him to his death. Not to mention the fact that Wormtail lived in Harry's presence for nearly three years." Severus had flung himself out of his chair and was pacing backwards and forwards and his voice was ominous in its barely restrained anger.

"Hell, Crouch and Wormtail had dark marks...I had the dark mark! And we were all able to be within the boy's presence."

"Severus, I have explained this to you to the best of my knowledge before," said Dumbledore in tired and regretful tones.

"Explain again!" said Severus through clenched teeth, hardening his heart against these uncharacteristic signs of weakness in his friend. He was not sure how the conversation had deteriorated so completely; he had not had any intention of even bringing up the subject of Harry and his near escapes. But somehow, Harry was never far from the front of his mind these days, and Bella's threat had obviously wormed its way deeper into his psyche than he had realised at the time. He needed Albus to reassure him that Bella would not be able to reach his son.

"Quirell did not have a dark mark...he was a vessel for Voldemort, he acted on Voldemort's orders, and as Voldemort was less than human at that time, I can only assume that that is how he was able to get past the wards within the castle...they recognised Quirrell, who had been at the school for several years.

"Peter Pettigrew was able to be so close to Harry, partly, I imagine because of his animagus form, and because he had no intention of hurting Harry. In his mind, Voldemort was gone and he had nothing to gain from murdering Harry; it was much more to his advantage to remain hidden from his fellow Death Eaters and from the Ministry. He was well fed and spoiled, and I am sure he would even, on occasion revert to his human form to partake of certain human rituals that he would not have been able to enjoy as a rat." At Severus's sceptical look, Dumbledore added, "In the Muggle world, of course, well away from any who might recognise him. He might have been a rat physically, Severus, but he would still have had a man's urges."

"He was never a man," bit out Severus contemptuously. "A man doesn't hand two of his best friends and their child over to be murdered.

"Quite," agreed Dumbledore mildly, but Severus had no illusions that Peter Pettigrew was held in any higher esteem by the old wizard than by himself.

"To continue," said Dumbledore, "You were never a threat to Harry and the wards recognised you because you, like Quirrell were under my aegis, and you were actually protecting Harry.

"So much for your wards, Dumbledore," said Severus, his voice bitter with self-condemnation. "I did everything in my power to harm the boy."

"You were not out to murder him, Severus, and you were helping to protect him from those who were out to cause him physical harm."

Severus stood at the window and looked out over the moonlit castle grounds He did not respond to Albus's attempts to diminish his sins; it was something that he knew he would never be able to do himself. Even before the discovery of his and Harry's relationship, when Severus had been unable to stop himself from attacking James's son, his own cousin, at every turn, guilt had always reared its head whenever he had felt those green eyes glaring at him with hatred, and often confusion. Those beautiful green eyes that might have been lifted straight form Lily's lovely face and transplanted into her son.

Severus shook himself out of this reverie, forcing his mind back to the topic at hand. "And Moody, Albus? How did Moody, who was working directly for the reincarnated Dark Lord, manage to even get into your school, let alone be in frequent close contact with Harry, when he had every desire for harm to befall him."

Albus sighed and took his glasses off. He studied them minutely as he opened and closed the ear pieces over and over again.

"Once again, I can only put his being able to be within the school without detection down to his Poly-juiced persona. And as for his being able to interact with Harry so closely...well, that has to be down to the fact that Moody was actually doing everything in his power to protect and help Harry....to get him through the first two tasks and into the maze with a substantial head start."

Severus snorted in disgust. "So Harry should have been protected by the magic you evoked after Lily's sacrifice, and by the wards here at Hogwarts, and yet, he has come close to death too many times to count."

"I have never claimed to be omniscient, Severus," said Albus regretfully. "I did all that I could think of to keep Harry safe. Before school starts again in September, all of the teachers will join with me to reinforce the wards...not just for Harry's sake of course, now that Voldemort and his Death Eaters are fully active again." Albus held up the sheets of parchment he had been working on when Severus had arrived.

"I have been working on the problem." Severus walked across the room and took the papers. They were covered with Albus's easily recognisable, elegant slanted and looped writing. The screed was very technical, and Severus wasn't ashamed to admit that much of it went over his head. Albus's knowledge of the mechanics of spell casting was second to none.

No one, except for perhaps Tom Riddle had come close to equalling the genius of Albus Dumbledore in living memory. Indeed, Severus doubted any of the four founders, nor Merlin himself would have been more powerful than Hogwart's current headmaster. And yet, for some reason, this remarkable wizard was not, according to himself, going to be able to finish off the Dark Lord. That particular, seemingly impossible task was to fall upon the shoulders of Harry Potter...his son. His and Lily's and James's son.

"I bow to your superior knowledge, Albus," said Severus, handing back the sheath of parchment. "Forgive my maundering. I am finding the whole situation with Harry to be more than I can tolerate with equanimity; and if you ever thought that you would hear such words from me, then I know you would be lying. But I do know you're doing everything you can, and nobody could do better. It has always been the same. Harry is fortunate to have you in his corner.

"As he is fortunate to have found you, my boy, even at this late stage of the game. His discovery of a living father can do nothing but make him stronger and more able to face his ultimate fate."

Severus shook his head. "Until you explain to me why this has to be Harry, Albus, I cannot believe this is his fate...regardless of the prophecy."

"Albus sighed deeply and looked infinitely sad. "Were I able to make it different, I would, Severus. You must know that I would take on the task myself if I knew I could do the job. But I know my efforts would end up being for naught. Voldemort would kill me and then I would be unable to help guide Harry towards his ultimate destiny."

"But what can a sixteen year old boy do?" demanded Severus, his frustration running high. "If Harry was going to be the possessor of powers to equal yours or the Dark Lords, we would surely know it by now."

"Harry is not as ineffectual a wizard as you have often accused him of being, Severus."

"I know that! You must know I never really thought that. It was just me venting my spleen. And I have actually been on the receiving end of Harry's wild magic, Albus, as I'm sure you remember."

"I am convinced that Harry's powers will increase greatly between now and when he reaches his majority."

"He will need special tuition," said Severus, somewhat frantically.

"He will get it, Severus," assured Albus. "Though it will not be in the form that you envision." Severus frowned.

"I have much to impart to Harry over the next school year, but it will not be advanced defence. He will continue with his classes as normal," said Dumbledore.

"Then what?" cried Severus.

Albus looked regretful. "I have not entirely made up my mind whether it would be prudent to share with you, what I have to impart to Harry."

Severus drew himself up. "As you have taken great pains to point out to me, old man, I am Harry's father."

"And you are also, rather frequently, in the presence of Voldemort. What I have to teach Harry would be dangerous for you to know. If Voldemort was able to Legilimise you..."

"You discount my own skills in that area?" hissed Severus.

"You know I do not. But chance cannot be discounted. And this knowledge, if it got back to him, would be the end of any hope of even Harry finishing him for good."

Severus glared at Albus. "So, this is your last word? You will not allow me to help my son?"

"You will help him by just being there for him, Severus."

Severus opened his mouth to argue more, but at that moment, Minerva appeared at the top of the spiral staircase. Her stern demeanour lightened a little when she saw Severus, and she conjured a tight smile.

"Severus, how are you this evening?" And without waiting for an answer, she turned to Albus. "And why are you not getting yourself ready for bed, Albus Dumbledore?" she admonished, as if she was talking to one of her more recalcitrant Gryffindors.

"Minerva, my love..."

"Don't you think you can get around me, just because Severus is here. I am sure he would agree with me that you still need plenty of rest. It is barely two days since your injury and it will not be down to me if you do not recover fully."

Albus waved his hand in the air so that the wide sleeve of his purple dressing gown fell back to reveal the still delicate, newly healed skin. "It is recovered fully," he said with a winning smile.

Minerva produced her wand and before Albus could blink, she had banished all of the papers from his table. "There, you have nothing left to work on this evening." She pointed her wand towards the bed chamber. "You have the choice of taking yourself off to bed, or I will transport you there myself."

Severus had to turn away towards the window to hide his mirth. Even the greatest wizard of the age could be brought undone by a very determined female.

Albus acquiesced, albeit with much grumbling, but Severus could detect a wealth of fatigue in his voice, and when he turned back to watch the old man's progress, in his shuffling walk towards the bed chamber. "I bid you goodnight, Severus," said Albus, pausing at the bedroom door. "Perhaps we will be permitted to finish our discussion sometime tomorrow." Severus inclined his head before making for the stairs.

"Severus, if you could spare a few moments, I would like a word with you myself," said Minerva. "I will just see Albus settled."

Severus wondered what she could possibly want with him this late in the evening, but he returned to the window and gazed out over the tops of the tress that were limned with silver, even though the moon was only just a sliver of brightness in the night sky. For once, there didn't appear to be any mist.

When Minerva re-appeared ten minutes later, she informed Severus that Albus was already asleep and that he was as stubborn as the day was long and ridiculously blasé about his own health. "He should have been in bed over an hour ago; he is still recovering from that injury." She looked at Severus shrewdly. "Did he tell you how he sustained such a terrible injury, Severus?"

Ahh, so this is why she wishes to speak to me...to interrogate me.

"No, Minerva, he did not. He is as secretive with me as he is with you. You know, I am sure, that Albus does his own thing without reference to others."

Minerva narrowed her eyes. Severus could see that she was in two minds as to whether she believed him or not. He did not know what Albus had told her; she knew, of course, that he had been hurt, but she had never seen the state of his hand as Severus had. Severus did not know whether Albus had told her that his injury was the result of a very dark curse. And it was not up to him to make her cognisant of that fact.

‘Well, if that is all," he said now, moving again towards the stairs. He was in desperate need of a scalding shower and at least six hours sleep.

"No, it is not all," contradicted Minerva, shortly, and with an irritated sigh, Severus turned back to face her, placing his hands on the back of Albus's wing-backed chair.

"Can't this wait, Minerva?" he asked, doing little to hide his impatience. "I have had a trying day and I wish to become reacquainted with my pillow."

"Then I will make it quick," sniffed Minerva. "As the world seems to have been turned on its head lately and it appears that I am to defer to you in all matters relating to Harry, I would like to talk to you about his OWL results."

Severus's lethargy was quickly dispelled at the mention of Harry. His chin came up; Minerva's tone illustrated her disquiet about Harry's changed circumstances. "I'm sorry that you obviously disapprove of my newly established paternity, Minerva. But if Harry and I can make an effort to overcome our previous-shall we say-less than cordial feelings towards each other, then it would behove you, as his head of house, to try to do the same. I am Harry's father, and I will be taking responsibility for him from here on out."

"And I am-as you so correctly point out, Severus-Harry's head of house and therefore, his welfare within this school is my responsibility." Severus opened his mouth with every intention of putting Minerva in her rightful place in matters relating to Harry Potter, but Minerva forestalled him by holding up an imperious hand that automatically had him falling silent, much as he had done when he was a student under her overly strict eye.

"I do not desire to argue with you about the truly remarkable events of the last little while Severus, and though I admit I find it difficult to picture you actually..." Minerva paused, obviously searching around for an appropriately benign word, and actually coming up with three, "taking an interest in Harry, with the memory of your past relationship rearing its ugly head every time I think on it, I cannot deny your paternity. I only hope that you are serious in your desire to be a true parent to the boy...it will do him good to be able to revel in the knowledge of a real parental presence in his life."

Severus wanted to tell her, in his most disdainful voice, that because of the paternity that she could not deny, he had the right to treat Harry anyway that he chose...but the concern he could see in her pinched lips and bright eyes reminded him that she only had Harry's best interests at heart and she was finding it difficult to ever picture him in a parental role, let alone as Harry Potter's father. He clamped his lips together in an effort to hold back his biting retort.

"You do not need to worry, Minerva, I have no intention of abusing my newly discovered position. It has taken a while, but it would seem that I am not altogether different to other men who find themselves new fathers. It is insidious, but responsibility does overtake one...even, I admit, a growing sense of caring that I might one day actually be able to label affection."

If Minerva was shocked by the usually, cold and aloof man's speech being tantamount to an admission of actually being capable of softer emotions, she did her best to hide it. She did not want to jeopardise that which may well be the calming influence that Harry needed. Oh, how she hoped so.

Their eyes drilled into each other for several long, uncomfortable seconds, and Minerva was the first to look away. She could see no subterfuge in his expression. She sniffed and drew herself up. "Very well. I look forward to conferring with you in regards to Harry. Up till now, all decisions concerning Harry have been made by Albus, with my occasional input."

Minerva sniffed again, making it very clear that she did not approve of many of the things Albus had allowed Harry to get away with. Severus found himself in full accord with her on that score.

"So, Minerva, what is it you wish to talk about, now that we have put your disquiet on the back burner."

"Actually, it is more your position as Harry's teacher that I wish to appeal to." She smiled happily now. "The present circumstance makes this appeal easier, I must say." Severus's finely arched brows-so like Harry's, Minerva noted with surprise-lowered ominously.

"I am not sure whether your interactions with Harry to date have revealed to you his desire to become an Auror." Severus's eyebrows now arched in surprise...answer enough for Minerva.

"I have been comparing results for the OWL students with their career choices, and Harry's desire to be an Auror is fully on track with excellent results in all his subjects."

"All?" said Severus, sure now where this was going.

"Yes, Severus, all! At least, all, if all his teachers were reasonable in their expectations."

Now Severus's right eyebrow did its usual aerobics, rising independently of its fellow. "Ah, I see. Our young Gryffindor didn't receive an outstanding in potions."

"Of course he didn't!" snapped Minerva. "How could he have, with the torture sessions that were his lessons down in that accursed dungeon classroom."

Severus chose to ignore this diatribe. "And exactly what grade did Harry get? Did he manage to scrape an ‘acceptable'?"

"Actually, he was awarded an ‘exceeds expectations'. Without your usual torture, he managed to do exceedingly well on his exam. But that, combined with his marks from his class assignments...his unfair class assignment marks, he missed out on an outstanding."

Severus was surprised. He had, of course watched as his students had performed their practical, Potions OWL, but he had not been privy to the results of their written exam. Harry-or Potter as he had been then-had performed quite well on the practical, left to his own devices. And though, with his class work, Severus had always awarded Harry the mark he had actually earned in his own records, not the one that was scrawled on his assignment-they were more often than not fails-he was surprised to learn that Harry had gotten higher than an acceptable.

Perhaps he had been wrong...perhaps Harry did have the makings of a potioneer. After all, the ability must be hidden within his makeup somewhere, as his three parents were, all competent potioneers, and he Severus, was actually considered to be one of the most talented potioneers in Europe. Perhaps the fact of the two of them having been in close proximity to each other had bought out the worst in both of them...Severus had done his best to undermine Harry's every effort, and Harry may well have decided that it was not worth his effort to even attempt to work to his full ability.

Minerva cleared her throat. "Perhaps you would be able to see your way clear to do something about allowing your son, admission to your new NEWT class, Severus. I know you have never made exceptions before, but I think in this case...well, perhaps a makeup exam of your own devising. None of the other students need know about it."

"How many others received the requisite grade to get into NEWT Potions, Minerva?"

"I am sure you must have a fair idea. But if you allow Harry in, there will be nine in the class...that is if all those who received an outstanding wish to go on with Potions."

"I know that Mr Weasley will not have received the necessary grade to continue with Potions. Do you think Harry will wish to continue on with the subject if Weasley is not in the class? Or do you think I should allow him to sit a makeup exam as well?"

Minerva sighed again. "Ronald Weasley only got an acceptable, I'm afraid."

Severus crossed his arms and rubbed a forefinger along his thin, upper lip, seemingly lost in thought. Minerva thought he was winding himself up to turn down her request. She spread her arms and then slapped her hands noisily against her sides.

"For heaven's sake, Severus, I thought you said you were coming to care for Harry. And you know very well that you have been grossly unfair to him during the whole of his time so far at Hogwarts."

"I did not say that I would not consider your request, Minerva. I will speak to Harry."

Minerva clamped her lips closed when it appeared she had been ready to continue to flail Severus with harsh words. Taken aback by his easy capitulation, she stared for a few seconds before saying, "Oh....well...good."

Severus made a mocking bow. "So, I take it I am dismissed, now?" said Severus mockingly.

"Do not take that tone with me, Severus Snape. It was important that I bring this to your attention quickly. The OWL results need to be sent out no later than two weeks hence."

"I will attend to the problem in time, Minerva," said Severus, heading for the stairs.

"Oh, and Severus..." Severus looked over his shoulder. He was surprised to see a wicked smirk adorning the Deputy Headmistress's mouth. He turned fully to face her.

"I was just wondering who you will be cheering for when Gryffindor play Slytherin in Quidditch, what with your son being the Gryffindor Seeker and you being head of Slytherin House?" She waited for the shock of this statement to register before adding slyly, "quite a conundrum, isn't it?" Then with a final, evil smile and a sardonically raised eyebrow, she nodded her head to bid him goodnight and returned to Albus's bedchamber.

Severus looked at the closed door for a few seconds and then with a smirk quirking his own lips, he headed for the Floo and his own bedchamber.

8888

Harry, Ron, Ginny, Bill and the twins were in the backyard the following day when Severus arrived at the Burrow. He had Floo-called Molly to ask permission to visit. Molly, of course, consented and Severus stepped into the sitting room with a grace that Molly secretly envied. The man did absolutely everything with a casual elegance and ease of movement, unequalled by anyone that Molly knew.

Having been a member of the Order for the last twelve months Molly had come to learn that Severus Snape was an exceedingly clever man and  formidable wizard. She did not envy him his horrible job; she could not imagine what it would be like to have to associate with the likes of He Who Must Not Be Named, nor could she imagine the dislike and distrust that he had to live with because others in the Order did not trust him.

Molly knew Severus had made a terrible mistake in his youth, and that he was atoning for it in taking on these duties, but others-Alastor principally among them-refused to see him as anything separate from his past; they refused to believe that Severus was now truly on their side, despite Dumbledore's assurances. But Molly knew that her husband trusted Dumbledore implicitly, and as she trusted Arthurs instincts, so too did she have faith in Dumbledore's assurances.

But Severus Snape was such a difficult man to get to know; it was impossible to even try to be friendly with him. Molly had never seen as much of the man outside of Order meetings as she had done since the terrible attempt on Harry's life, and Severus's unwavering care that had seen her surrogate son returned to full health. But why was Severus here now? Could there be something about Harry's health that he had to continue to monitor? Harry appeared to be back to his normal, dear self...and thank Merlin for it, but had that terrible poison caused some kind of permanent damage? Oh, she prayed not.

Molly watched as Severus made a completely pointless swipe at his sleeve...there wasn't a trace of soot or ash anywhere on his black robes. She responded to Severus's nod of greeting with a slight smile. Somehow, that simple nod which was a trademark gesture of Severus's did not appear quite as curt and unfriendly as it usually did.

"Severus," Molly said brightly. "how nice to see you again. The children are out the back playing Quidditch. Would you like a cup of tea? I was just making one for myself."

Once, Severus would have said an automatic ‘no' to this kindness, but circumstances had changed. Harry was much in the company of the Weasleys, and Molly and Arthur treated him as one of their own. He could not tell them of the change in his and Harry's circumstances...not yet anyway, and though he had to keep up the pretence of sneering dislike around the boy, he could make an effort to be a little less brusque with Molly. He had already seen that Arthur and Bill Weasley were not below his attention, both being accomplished wizards. Arthur had more than proven to him that he was far from being the simple creature whose façade he presented to the world at large.

And as his son was so very often in the care of these people, it would do no harm to cultivate a less prickly relationship with them. Of course, he still had a part to keep up, and so outright friendliness was out of the question, but a lessening of overt hostility couldn't hurt when there were no others to witness even a slight softening in his generally unpleasant demeanour.

"Thank you, that would be most welcome." Severus's voice was suitably stiff, but Molly's smile broadened none-the-less and Severus followed in her wake as she bustled into the kitchen. She had been baking and Severus's mouth watered at the combination of delicious smells that filled the air.

"Sit down, Severus," Molly encouraged, but Severus had caught a glimpse of the activity going on in the backyard, and he crossed to the window and watched the aerial acrobatics for several minutes.

It was a lively game in which it appeared that the three present Gryffindors were teamed against  Bill and the terrible twins. There was no snitch involved in the play; it was just a matter of any on either team trying to score goals with an old and battered Quaffle.

All of them were certainly at home on a broom, even Ronald, who had made such a terrible show as Gryffindor Keeper during the last school year, until the very last match, when he had shown, briefly, what he was capable of. Bill Weasley had lost none of the talent that had made him a stand out player during his time on the Gryffindor team, and Fred and George, though excellent in their previous team positions, were too rough and ready, and lacked the finesse required to be anything but unrefined, though excellent Beaters.

Ginevra Weasley was everything Severus had seen her be when she had played seeker for Gryffindor last year...quick, artful, and unafraid; she was totally unfazed whenever any of the larger bodies on broomsticks streaked towards her and tried to block her. She darted this way and that, dived steeply or shot upwards like an arrow, when she was in possession of the Quaffle, and blocked her opponents and ran interference for her two team mates with as much, if not more finesse than her male rivals.  

But for sheer magnificence on a broom, none of the Weasleys could surpass Harry. He was truly one with his broom; he had definitely been born to fly. His manoeuvres were seamless and fluid, his broom obeying his slightest change of position or grip; it was obvious that he was at home on a broom as he was on his feet...perhaps more so.

Severus had never had any talent on a broom. Oh, he could fly from point A to point B, but he much preferred to be on terra firma. What Harry did in the air seemed to defy every principle of physics, and even magic. He appeared weightless, and he seemed to have an instinctive knowledge of what he needed to do and where he needed to be at any given time. His joy in the freedom of flying was apparent even from this distance.

Severus had always enjoyed Quidditch, though he made a show of only pretending an interest in Slytherin's victories. He rarely missed a match, even those in which Slytherin played no part; the teachers were encouraged to turn up and support all the matches. So Severus had watched Harry from the start of his Quidditch career; he had watched the tiny eleven year old as he was nearly bucked off his broom when Quirrell had tried his best to kill, or at the least, seriously maim the boy.

In spite of himself and his prejudices, Severus had been vastly impressed, though doing his best to hide the fact from his fellow teachers, specifically, Minerva McGonagall who had all but crowed when Harry had caught that first Snitch.

He had watched the less talented and vastly less sporting Draco Malfoy try everything in his power-and when his power was not enough, in his vast arsenal of illegal moves to best Harry on the Quidditch pitch, as he did in every other aspect of their lives at Hogwarts...but with little success. Harry was fearless in the air, and could out-manoeuvre Draco at any turn. It was not in Harry's makeup to cheat. Unlike Draco, and indeed, any of the other players in the Slytherin team, Harry would not consider a win that had been brought about by cheating, to be a win at all.

Severus could see all of this now, but for the last five years, he had admired Harry's skill, while closing his mind to the fact that probably the most brilliant Seeker Hogwarts had ever seen was his most detested student and the son of the cousin he had spent most of his teenage years hating. As Severus watched his son streak through the air and fearlessly fly straight at the Weasley twins so that they were forced to angle off messily in separate directions in a flurry of gangly arms and legs, he realised that his old feelings for Harry weren't solely based on his and James's mutual antipathy, but also on his guilt for not ever following up on his mother's desire for him to make peace with his cousin.

Harry had scooped the Quaffle close to his chest after Ginny passed it to him, before Bill could block the move, and Harry, backed up by Ron, streaked towards the single goal ring and scored. Severus watched as Ginny flew wildly at Harry, her red hair a shining wing streaming behind her as she bumped into Harry, threw her arms around his neck and kissed him on the lips. Even from this distance, Severus could see Ronald roll his eyes and he could hear the other brothers wolf whistling.

Transferring his gaze from the high-spirited display in the air, Severus saw Hermione Granger and a young woman with a magnificent waterfall of silver hair falling down her back to her waist, clapping the aerial performers. Bill Weasley swooped down and landed beside the statuesque woman and pulling her into his arms, he kissed her with a deal more finesse than the two teenagers in the air had displayed in their youthful ardour, and who had now let each other go so that they could land.

Molly appeared beside Severus and passed him a cup of tea. At the Order meetings, it was usually she who provided the refreshments and as a result of that, she had not had to ask how Severus took his tea and the brew in the cup was exactly as he liked it. As Severus sipped his drink, Molly followed his gaze to the scene in the back yard.

"That is Fleur Delacour with Bill, isn't it?" asked Severus, indicating the handsome couple with a movement of his head.

"Yes," answered Molly, in a tight voice. "She and Bill have been seeing each other for the last year and now they have become engaged."

Molly didn't sound at all thrilled at the prospect of having Fleur as a daughter-in-law, but Severus did not want to become bogged down in the Weasley family dynamics. He could feel that Molly wanted to talk to someone about the future addition of the stunningly beautiful French girl to her family, but Severus forbore to give her an opening.

After several seconds of silence that was heavy with disappointment, Molly sighed and keeping her eyes on the now advancing party of Quidditch players and spectators, she asked, "I take it that you need to see Harry again?"

Severus nodded. "I need to do some more tests on him."

Molly frowned. "I was under the impression that he was totally cured."

"He is...as far as the original symptoms go." Severus made sure to keep his voice emotionless. "But several of his organs were compromised and I have to continue to run tests on him to make sure that everything is as it should be."

"And how long does this have to go on?"

Severus sighed. He didn't really want to get too deeply into this with Molly. It was, of course, his excuse for needing to have frequent contact with Harry. "If, after twelve months, no symptoms develop, I'll be convinced that Potter will have no further worries."

"That long?" said Molly. "My goodness, this poison must have been a truly sinister brew."

"It was," said Severus, still in an uncaring voice. "But Potter is a master at escaping death."

Molly pursed her lips. "Must you be so insensitive? The rest of us are exceedingly glad that Harry is a master at escaping death."

"Well, I too am glad that Potter didn't die this time around. As I was his healer, it wouldn't have done my reputation any good at all if he had died."

Molly snatched Severus's cup out of his hand and stalked to the sink where she slammed it and her own down so hard on the draining board, one of them broke in half. With a furious flourish, she withdrew her wand from the pocket in her apron and repaired the damage.

 "Truly, Professor Snape, just as I think you might actually have a human side, you have to make your prejudice against Harry glaringly obvious all over again," snapped Molly, as she rinsed the cups and placed them roughly on the draining board. "I hope you are not going to keep him too long. I have a celebration planned for his birthday in three days time."

Severus turned to look at Molly as they heard the back door pulled open to admit the gaggle of young people into the scullery.

"And please don't mention the party to Harry," hissed Molly. "I want it to be a surprise." And though it looked like it cost her a lot, Molly took a deep breath before adding, "And as you saved Harry's life, and he seems to have developed a sort of dependency on you, you are welcome to attend, if you think you can keep your dislike under wraps for the occasion."

Severus had forgotten all about Harry's approaching sixteenth birthday. July the thirty-first. Now that Severus knew the contents of Trelawney's prophecy, that date was very significant. That birth date was the reason that Harry was the Boy Who Lived. One of two wizard babies born at the end of July, either of whom fitted the criteria. It was the Dark Lord who had made the final choice...had he but known.

But Severus did not imagine for a moment that he had made the wrong choice. No one could look to Neville Longbottom as being the saviour of the wizarding world. But Severus had wondered more than once since Albus had shown him his memory of the prophecy, exactly what had been the reason that the Dark Lord had picked Harry over Longbottom. It had been too early in their development for either infant to have shown even the beginnings of their magical ability. It was a mystery and was likely to remain so. He could not imagine himself asking the Dark Lord outright why he had picked Harry over Longbottom, even if he was the Dark Lord's favourite at the moment.

Severus now inclined his head towards Molly. "Your gracious invitation is duly noted, Molly, but I think my presence at Potter's party will rather put a dampener on the proceedings, don't you? In view of that, I must regretfully decline."

 Severus had barely finished this speech before the young people, sans broomsticks and minus Bill and Fleur clattered into the kitchen in an exuberant heap; one by one, the laughter disappeared from each face as they caught sight of Severus. Harry, who had his arm slung over Ginevra's shoulders and was laughing at something his Weasley sidekick had just said, caught sight of Severus and stopped laughing immediately. But then, to Severus's dismay a huge smile blossomed to take its place and his eyes shone with pleasure.

Severus groaned internally. The boy was an open book. If everyone's horrified gaze had not been focused upon him instead of Harry, all of their mouths would have fallen open in fresh horror to see the delighted surprise on their friend's face. Severus had to close that open book.

"I see that you have been doing what you do best, Potter," sneered Severus, hating himself, and amazed that he hated himself for something that had once, not so long ago, come so naturally to him. "Showing off with aplomb."

The smile and the pleasure disappeared as though Severus had wielded his wand and vanished them. Why couldn't Harry remember that they were to keep up the pretence of hatred? Even the present look did not project hatred, just bitter disappointment.

Ronald, Hermione and Ginny automatically turned stricken faces to Harry, but Fred and George, perhaps under the foolish misapprehension that they no longer need fear him because they were no longer at Hogwarts, stepped forward as one to stick up for their young friend. "It's always been my motto..." said one twin in what he considered to be a deadly voice.

"That if you've got it..." said the other...

"Flaunt it," said the first.

"Fred! George!" screeched Molly, but to no affect, because they continued in the same vein, over the top of their mother's furious protest.

"But as you've never had anything that you can flaunt, Snape..." continued the second twin.

"This would be a totally alien concept," finished the first.

"That's enough!" Bill and Fleur had finally arrived-Severus supposed they had remained outside to indulge in some private snogging time-and an absolutely livid Bill stalked over to his younger brothers. "Apologise. Now!"

"No, way," expostulated both twins together.

"Guys..." said Harry weakly.

"It's about time he quit picking on Harry, Bill."

"Guys, please." Harry had stepped forward now, but the twins and their older brother were oblivious.

"Yeah, where does that plonker get off dissing Harry at every turn?"

"Guys!" Harry yelled. This time, Fred and George stopped mouthing off and they and Bill turned to him. "Don't worry about it, OK. I don't anymore. I can handle Professor Snape."

Severus, who had watched and listened to the whole foolishly brave confrontation by the twins with a sneer lifting the corner of his lip, also stepped closer to the twins, ready to unleash a stinging harangue of his own. But before he could begin, Molly inserted herself between the warring factions.

"This is my home, and I will not have it turned into a war zone.

"That's rich," snorted one of the twins, "after your defeat of Muriel, the other night."

Molly turned a gimlet eye upon her son and held a warning finger under his nose. "One more word out of you Fred Weasley..." and without warning she turned to the other. "Or you George, and I swear by all the powers that be that I will hex your tongues to stick to the rooves of your mouths and then forget the spell that will release them!"

Both twins looked horror struck, and Severus and Harry looked at each other, both remembering that horrible day at the Dursley's, Harry with distress and Severus with regret. Suddenly, Severus had had quite enough histrionics for one day.

"As pleasant as this has been," he drawled with every appearance of extreme boredom, "I am afraid I am going to have to cut the performance short. Mr Potter and I have an appointment."

"You're dragging him off again!" exclaimed Ginny involuntarily, and when all heads turned towards her, she reddened and bit her lip.

"Do not despair, Miss Weasley," sneered Severus. "Though your taste in boyfriends is questionable, I will, none-the-less return him to you tomorrow morning...if his health permits."

"Or you don't murder him in his sleep," mumbled Ron, his eyes fixed on his size twelves and in a voice that was clearly louder than he realised.

"Ron!" yelled Molly and Bill together.

Severus didn't wait to hear more. He stalked past the assembled crowd of redheads and the blonde, brunette and black-haired ring-ins, throwing "I'll leave you to make your farewells, Potter, and wait for you in the sitting room," over his shoulder as he passed.

It was only a minute before Harry joined Severus, and without a word, they both stepped into the empty fireplace and Severus threw down the Floo Powder he had clutched in his hand and called out their destination. A sickening roller-coaster ride later, Harry stumbled out of the fireplace in Professor Dumbledore's office. He would have fallen to his knees if Severus had not stepped out immediately behind him and grabbed his upper arm tightly.

Harry pulled his arm free and moved a few paces across the office before stopping and turning back. Severus noted that his young face was as set and strained as it had been when they had stepped into the Floo together. "Can I walk down to the dungeons? I don't fancy another Floo journey."

Severus studied him closely...the averted eyes, pale cheeks and vulnerable mouth. He sighed. "You do know that was all an act, don't you, Harry?"

Colour now climbed into Harry's cheeks. He looked away before nodding curtly. Severus closed his eyes in exasperation. "Harry..."

"I know!" yelled Harry. "I know it was all an act, all right. But I hate it! And you're just so bloody good at it. And I'm sorry that I can't turn on sneering contempt at the drop of a hat!" He rubbed the back of his neck and walked around in a tight, agitated circle before stopping and looking at Severus miserably.

"How do you do it?" he asked helplessly, throwing his arms wide.

"I've been playing a game of subterfuge for a long time. I'm used to it."

"Yeah, well..." said Harry, looking anywhere but at his father and rubbing the back of his neck again. "...I sometimes wish you weren't quite so bloody good at it." Severus waited for more, and sure enough...

"So you think I'm a show-off?" Harry asked softly.

"No," said Severus as patiently as he could, "I do not think you a show-off...far from it in fact. But I had to say something, Harry. Your face lit up like one of Flitwick's Christmas trees when you saw me."

"No, it didn't!" denied Harry.

"Yes it did! If the others had not been looking at me with the horror that I hoped you might display, they would have immediately become suspicious."

"But you saved my life," argued Harry. "They know that I have to be grateful for that."

"At the most, they might accept grudging gratitude on your part, and it should certainly not be overshadowed by the pleasure you displayed. Resignation and exasperation would have been the most positive emotions that you should have displayed, if you could not bring yourself to show outright dislike."

Harry turned away, shaking his head.

"This is important, Harry." 

"I know. You keep telling me. But I'm around Ron, Hermione and Ginny most of the time. I am not going to be able to keep this a secret for ever. I don't want to keep it a secret forever. They won't spread it around...I know they won't."

There was silence for several painful seconds in which Severus fought hard to keep his temper.

"Please," begged Harry, "let me tell them."

"Perhaps it would be for the best, Severus." Dumbledore was descending the stairs, his wide-sleeved silver and white embossed robes and his long silver hair and beard making him look like a deity.

"Albus!" said Severus, his exasperation finding a new outlet. "You are not helping!"

Albus ignored Severus as he came level with him. Instead, he smiled fondly at Harry. "How are you, my boy?" he asked.

"Fine thanks, Professor."

"You're looking better than I have seen you look in a long time," said Albus, walking towards Harry and studying him closely. "Molly has been working her maternal spell upon you, I see. I'm sure you have put on a little much needed weight."

Harry grinned. "Every time she looks at me, she's shoving food down my throat."

Albus smiled back. "Well, as Molly is such a wonderful cook, I do not suppose that is much of a hardship."

"It's not a hardship at all," affirmed Harry. He looked past his headmaster and took in his father's cross-armed, rigid stance and set, angry face. His stomach gave a nervous little swoop...he didn't want to be upsetting his father, not now that things had started to go so well for them, but he just knew he was never going to be able to pull this off on a long term basis. He knew he was hopeless, but there was nothing he could do about it. He had never been able to hide his true emotions. Never. And if Professor Dumbledore was willing to be an ally in this, he would take full advantage of the fact.

"Sir, please help me talk Professor Sn...I mean, my father into telling my friends about him and I...about our relationship."

Dumbledore put his hand on Harry's shoulder and squeezed it gently. Even through his anger, Severus noted that it was the previously injured hand, and that Albus appeared to have regained full use of it without experiencing any apparent discomfort.

"Harry, this ultimately has to be your father's decision, and I will not force him to do something that he feels may put him in danger...I cannot order him."

Harry drooped under the weight of Albus's hand and his declaration. He raised those pleading green eyes. "But you said..."

"I said that I thought it would be for the best, Harry. I can only council your father."

"Then you might as well save your breath, Albus. I will not have my position compromised by a slip up from a mouthy teenager. For God's sake, I told you that I thought it would be too dangerous to tell him..." he made an angry gesture towards Harry, "about our relationship because of his inability to hide his emotions."

"And yet," reasoned Albus, calmly, walking to his desk and seating himself in his high-backed chair, "you ultimately could not keep the secret to yourself." Severus's eyes narrowed with anger but Albus was unaffected by this new example of his young friend's all too frequently displayed ire.

"And if I am not mistaken, Severus, your own confession came after you had inadvertently let slip that Harry was your son to Petunia Dursley and Harry overheard." Twin slashes of colour appeared over Severus's cheekbones. "So you will hardly be able to castigate Harry if-as seems likely to happen at some stage-he lets slip some telltale piece of information."

"As he has already done in front of Miss Weasley when in a raging temper," bit out Severus, and Harry cringed inwardly.

"Exactly," said Albus, calmly. "I am afraid that try as Harry might-and I do not doubt his good intentions...he would not deliberately go behind your back or against your wishes-he will ultimately be unable to not let slip something of import that will have his friends guessing the rest. Do not for an instant forget that Miss Granger is part of this equation, and she will note any changes in Harry's behaviour, even if he does not think there are any changes. She will observe and analyse and eventually come up with an explanation."

"The girl is a bloody menace," growled Severus.

"Hey!" objected Harry.

"She is a loyal and loving friend, Severus. She would never do anything to harm Harry, nor any of her other friends. And she is as incapable of ignoring a conundrum as you are, dear boy.

"And I will add, that none of Harry's friends would do or say anything to harm him."

"And if they fall into hostile hands, Albus. What then?"

"The chances of that happening are very slim indeed. They will have the benefit of the same protection as does Harry himself. You know the extent of the protection around the Burrow, Severus; you helped to construct it. And once back here at Hogwarts....well, once again you know to what extent we have gone, to make the school safe for all the students, with still more to be done."

"And what of the internal threat? Have you forgotten about that?"

"Old though I may be, my boy, do not make the mistake of considering me senile. I am sure that those of us in the know will be able to keep that particular problem under wraps."

When Severus opened his mouth to comment further on this internal threat that Harry would dearly have liked to know more about, Professor Dumbledore spoke over him. "We will carry on this discussion at a later time, Severus," he said pointedly. "But getting back to the original subject, if I may put my oar in the water..."

"If I but had the power to stop you!" drawled Severus, sardonically.

Harry bit his lip, worried that he might be the cause of tension between the two wizards. Dumbledore looked at Severus over the top of his half moon spectacles. Then he leaned back in his chair and spread his hands.

"All you need do is say the word and my opinion will remain un-uttered," said Dumbledore quietly.

Harry saw his father roll his eyes. "Oh, please Headmaster, far be it for me to be the cause of you breaking the habit of a lifetime. Giving your unsolicited opinion is one of the things you do so very well. My big objection is that your opinion rarely, if ever, coincides with my deep rooted convictions as to what is the best course of action to take."

"I am asking you to listen to me, Severus. You do not have to do as I urge."

Severus moved across to the window and looked out over the grounds. In the distance, he could see Hagrid hailing Fang, who came bounding around the side of the cabin to follow his large master off into the forest. Severus watched until Hagrid and his dog disappeared before turning back to face the room and perching on the edge of the sill with his arms crossed in an attitude of pseudo-patient expectation.

"Tell me why you think it best that half the wizarding world should know that I, the Dark Lord's right-hand man, am also the father of the boy he wants dead above any other...even you Dumbledore."

"Half the wizarding world Severus? Really, I know that Arthur and Molly have been blessed with a large family, but even you, with your penchant for exaggeration could not call them half the wizarding world.

Severus narrowed his eyes and bit back any number of retorts that were fighting to be uttered.

"As I said before, Miss Granger is a very far-sighted young lady who notices the smallest aberration from the norm. And we already know that Ginevra heard more than we really wanted her to hear that first night at the Burrow after you were summoned, Severus."

Severus bestowed a mild glare upon Harry who thrust his hands into his jacket pockets and looked down at his feet.

"Has Ginevra brought up the subject with you, Harry?" asked Dumbledore.

"No."

"Then she has done what I asked of her and she has not spoken about what she heard." Dumbledore pinned Severus with his periwinkle blue gaze.

"Ginevra is the youngest of them all Severus, and she has managed to keep her mouth shut for five days. She has not even brought the subject up with Harry...she has not asked him for details.

"Harry will not be able to be around you during the next school year and totally pretend indifference toward you. Not with his friends being so close to him. They will see his confusion and ultimate distress and it will only be a short step from there before Miss Granger puts two and two together.

Severus thrust himself away from the sill and began to pace. "Ronald Weasley wouldn't be able to keep a secret of this magnitude if his life depended on it," he growled

"I disagree," said Dumbledore.

"I doubt very much if Ronald Weasley would be able to hide his total abhorrence of Harry having me as a father Albus," said Severus, expanding on his previous statement. "In fact, if Harry insists to Mr Weasley that he is happy with this development in his life, he might very well turn against Harry."

"There's no way Ron would do that," denied Harry hotly.

"What?" said Severus, "you think that when you tell your friend that I am your father, he will clap you on the shoulder and say, ‘I'm glad for you, mate'?"

"I...I can't say for sure how he will react at first, but I do know he would never turn against me," said Harry firmly.

"No?" said Severus shortly. "Like he didn't turn against you when he thought you had put your own name in the Goblet of Fire?"

"You thought I had put my own name in the Goblet of Fire!" yelled Harry. "Along with three-quarters of the bloody school."

"But I wasn't your best friend who knew you as well as if you were a brother."

"No, you were just the mongrel Potions master who did his very best to make sure that Karkaroff and Madam Maxime thought that I was a cheat and a liar." As soon as he had finished his rant, the colour drained from Harry's face and he looked positively sick.

Severus too, had lost every vestige of colour and he looked like a waxen image. "Harry..." he began.

"No," croaked Harry rubbing a hand agitatedly through his messy hair. "No...I'm sorry. I never meant to...I'm sorry. But you're wrong about Ron. The Tri-Wizard Tournament was...well, it was a horrible time, even before what happened in that graveyard.

"Ron and I talked about what it would be like if we could get past Professor Dumbledore's time-line...how great it would be to compete and win. It was a nice dream, but I wasn't really that fussed. I just went along with Ron.

"He was jealous. He thought I had managed to get past the time-line without telling him how I did it. He was jealous...he thinks he's not as worthy as his brothers. Anything that he might do, one or more of them has done before him. And...and then he ended up with me as his best friend. Me, who kept on being thrust into the limelight and who never wanted it. Once again, Ron was left in the background."

Harry looked at Severus pleadingly. "He really knew I hadn't entered myself, and as soon as he saw me trying to battle a dragon, he snapped out of his jealousy.

"With this though, what's he got to be jealous about? He's got his own father."

"It will not be a matter of jealousy," said Severus, prepared to go along with Harry to get past the painful moment. "It will be a matter of his not being able to believe that you can actually think anything but ill of me. His and your mutual hatred for me was something that you both agreed fully upon."

"Severus..." interrupted Dumbledore, who had sat silently throughout the confrontation between father and son. He had been gratified that Harry and Severus had been able to get past this contretemps without any outside interference. Things were definitely on the improve between the pair of them and the old man could not have been happier. Harry would need his father in the coming months.

"I am sure Ronald's regard for Harry greatly exceeds his ill-feelings for you, especially when he realises that Harry is happy to have you as a father."

Severus threw himself down in a chair and placing an elbow on the arm, he rubbed his hand across his mouth. He really did not want to do this. But it seemed Dumbledore had more to say on the subject.

"I really do think that it would be to your advantage to confide in the Weasleys, considering Harry's very close association with them and considering that they, or most of them anyway, are in the Order. I know that you respect Arthur and William," and seeing the look of disgust Severus shot at him, Albus added sternly, "and there is no point in trying to pretend otherwise, my boy. And you know as well as I that they will keep this confidence. I have no doubt that you will have their full support and that once the shock has worn off, they will all be happy for you and Harry."

When Severus still looked mutinous, Dumbledore continued doggedly. "It will be too difficult to keep up this subterfuge, Severus, because the family is so close to Harry. It is not fair to ask Harry to try and continue to display the negative emotions that have marked his behaviour towards you for the last five years, not now that you and he are trying so hard to establish this new rapport.

Silence.

Harry looked at his father's set face and then, hopelessly, at Dumbledore.

Dumbledore sighed. He pushed himself to his feet, and crossed the room to stand behind a clearly unhappy and unconvinced Potions master. He placed his hand on Severus's tense shoulder and squeezed. "When are you going to realise, Severus, that you are no longer an island?