“This is unbelievable,” Theodore Nott muttered, while Draco Malfoy and Blaise Zabini stared slacked jawed. “Are you really a Hufflepuff?” Not understanding the Slytherin’s question at all; Harry decided to back up slowly, pick his bag up from the floor and make a mad dash for it. Draco, however seemed to have other plans. He quickly slapped the entrance door shut while Blaise hastily added sloppy locking charms.  

Harry hefted his bag higher onto his shoulder and stared warily at the Slytherins.  

“Is this some joke?” Blaise Zabini finally choked. “No one is supposed to know yet. Not even our esteemed Headmaster.” 

“Joke?” Harry blinked nonplussed, hoping beyond all hope that the Slytherins hadn’t seen his new trick. “What joke?”  

Theodore Nott nearly choked on his tongue. 

“Over the summer my mother seemed to have become bored of me,” Blaise said patiently, elegantly stepping out of Theodore’s way as his friend tried to elbow him none to gently in the ribs. “It seems that...” 

“Blaise...” Draco warned in a strange sing-song voice. “Your REAL dad is going to kill you not to mention us if this gets out.” 

“Shut it, Draco!” Blaise snarled in Draco’s direction before quickly returning to his pleasant demeanour and turning to Harry.  “Anyway, seems she’s getting a few galleons short since husband number five is suing for all his worth.” 

“I like him,” Draco muttered grinning. “Reminds me of my dad.” 

Harry blinked slowly and refrained from reaching to his arms and pinching himself. Everything suddenly seemed so surreal. He shuffled towards the door but Blaise cut across his path and took his arm. 

“It seems my mum faked her pregnancy to fool husband number three into marrying her.  So she went to this agency paid a whole load of galleons...” 

“Let me guess Little Tykes Agency by Sydney Higgleworth?” Harry hazard, he felt suddenly feeling a little bit braver, despite being cornered in the toilets by three Slytherins while wearing a Hufflepuff uniform. They had no idea of who he was but that was beside the point. It was not an ideal situation. 

“How did you know?” Blaise enquired creasing his brow in consternation, “Never mind. I was delivered approximately eight months later with a bill.” 

Harry noticed Zabini’s face beginning to change ever so slightly. He watched in absolute horror as Zabini’s dark sink faded until it was pale and as nose elongated and rich almond eyes stared back at him. 

Harry had to hold his chest to stop himself from throwing up his guts. 

“My real dad hasn’t told me much about mum,” Blaise continued, “And he never mentioned that I could have a twin...” 

“I think I’m going to be sick,” Harry muttered. 

“Typical Hufflepuff,” Draco murmured sitting Harry on the tiled floor. The blonde boy sniffed indifferently. “Look he’s gone a funny green colour.” 

“I found documents too,” Harry heard himself say rather stupidly. “And I’ve been doing strange things lately.” 

“Dad says it is wish magic,” Blaise commented. 

“Dad?” 

“Yeah... older bloke that looks like you both,” Theodore remarked somewhat dryly. 

“Who?” Harry asked feeling almost like after all he didn’t really want to know. 

“Professor Snape,” Blaise said as if the answer was obvious.  

Harry felt his stomach lurch for sure that time.  “You can’t say anything to anyone,” Blaise informed Harry seriously studying him with critical dark eyes. Harry stared up at his double and swallowed. How on earth had he missed the physical resemblance; everything about his new face had screamed Snape. And he was just beginning to like it to.

“Dumbledore wouldn’t like it if he found out too early. He might take us away from dad.” 

“Us?” 

“Yes. Us,” Blaise said firmly, he grabbed Harry’s hand and hauled him to his feet. “Come on, show yourself and we can go and see dad and tell him.” 

“No!” Harry stumbled away. 

“You cannot possibly tell me you are afraid of the dreaded Professor Snape?” Draco drawled studying his perfect fingernails. Harry often wondered why the blonde even bothered sometimes. 

“I can’t.” 

“Why not?” Blaise asked turning himself back to Blaise.

“At least tell me who you are.” 

“I can’t,” Harry repeated dumbly. 

“Yes, we got that. But why?” Theodore stressed. 

“This is bad,” Harry almost wailed as he reached the door. He half clawed desperately at the handle feeling panicked. Snape most certainly could not be his real dad. He vaguely heard the soft footfalls approach before Blaise’s hand was on his shoulder. 

“It’s okay to be scared,” Blaise murmured. “I get that... but...” 

“What am I supposed to say,” Harry snapped sarcastically, “ ‘Hi Dad, I’m the kid you never knew existed. Please chop me up and add me to your latest potions experiment.’ Trust me we’ll be better off if he doesn’t know.” 

“Oh let him go for Merlin’s sake,” Harry heard Draco whine in his pompous accent. 

“Just promise you’ll meet me later; say the greenhouse at eleven tonight.” Harry bobbed his head in ascent and Zabini released the locking charm. He was out the door before it was fully open. 

“Snape is going to kill us if he finds out,” Nott mumbled staring at Harry’s retreating back.  

“So?” Zabini snapped irritably as he watched his double disappear around the corner.  

 Harry cursed his stupidity as he curled himself in the greenhouse the second years were currently working in. It was cold and he was miserable and confused. On one hand it looked like he had a twin brother then again his brother was a Slytherin and was friends with Draco-Perfect-Malfoy. Worse his biological father was Severus Snape and his mother was probably a banshee or a vampire or something even worse. 

“Hey.” 

Harry glanced up and saw the silhouette of Blaise in his Snape face towering over him. Very slowly Blaise sat on the earthy ground beside him. Lifting his eyes further Harry saw the lone figure of Goyle at the entrance. 

“He’s smart enough to be able to lookout for us,” Blaise commented with a chuckle. “Stupid enough to risk our Head of House’s temper. I wasn’t able to convince Theo and Draco.” Blaise shrugged his shoulders and drew his knees tightly into his chest. He continued on after a slight pause, “Besides I wanted to speak with you alone.” 

“And Goyle is intelligent enough not to listen in,” Harry whispered. 

“Something like that,” Blaise chortled but a moment he was serious again. “Dad calls me Cyrus in private; once we go public with our blood relation my name will be Cyrus.” 

Harry remained silent, unsure exactly of what Blaise, or rather Cyrus, wanted from him. “What shall I call you?” Cyrus enquired pointedly. 

Harry shrugged. 

Cyrus sighed long-sufferingly. “Look it’s not every day that you find out you have a twin after spending your whole life feeling so ruddy empty... Oh I get it you already have a family.” 

“Well, yes,” Harry muttered, “But it’s not that they actually want me. And it’s not every day that one finds out one is a twin and his father could not hate him more than he already does.”  

“Don’t me so melodramatic!” Cyrus chided slapping Harry’s knee playfully. “Dad’ll love you – once he gets over smashing a few potion bottles.” 

“I’m the worse possible student to be his son!” Harry blurted. 

“You’re not really a Hufflepuff?” Cyrus asked slyly; dark mischief in his eyes before his eyes widened. “Of course it is perfectly okay if you are and all...” 

Harry stared at the Slytherin in disbelief. Dare he say it? Cyrus looked excited.   

 Cyrus nee Blaise had a plan. It was a plan he was sure would work. If only he could convince his dad to unwittingly give his elusive twin, who still refused to give him any indications of his identity, a perfect name. Maybe if Cyrus gave his brother an identity then he would see that he could be trusted and wheedle him into revealing himself.  

Cyrus sighed as he slipped through the open door and changed his identity back to his ‘Cyrus’ face. He watched with lidded eyes as his father work expertly and quickly with his potions. It was unwise to approach a potions master until said master had indicated it was safe to do so. 

“Cyrus.”

At the sound of his father’s calm voice Cyrus crept further until he stood beside the potions master. “You should not be tempted so often to visit me, my son,” Snape said without looking up, his deft hands sprinkling an exact amount of a foul smelling herb into his cauldron.  

“I know,” Cyrus sighed watching the depths of the cauldron as it bubbled over. He decided it was now or never. “If I had a brother what would you call him?” 

The potions master stopped abruptly and turned his body to face the young Slytherin. “I beg your pardon?” 

“If I had a brother...” 

“You don’t,” Snape snapped turning back to his workbench and started ripping leaves with a little more force than what Cyrus strictly thought necessary. 

“Hypothetically speaking...” Cyrus continued after a deep breath. Snape sighed heavily and let the potion ingredients he had been massacring fall to the work top.

“Cyrus please... cease at once.” 

“I’m curious,” Cyrus said blinking and trying to look as innocent as possible. “Can you blame me?” 

“No,” Snape reluctantly agreed softly, carding his hand through Cyrus’ hair. “Of course you’re curious.” 

Cyrus waited patiently for the older wizard to continue. It would do no good to harp on – Snape would only answer when he was good and ready. Cyrus was not disappointed. 

“Saige, for your mother.” 

“Saige?” Cyrus nose wrinkled. “Like a potion ingredient?”   

Snape smiled sadly and carded his hand through Cyrus’ hair firmly and stopped at the base of his neck.  “Was my mother’s name Saige?” 

“No,” Snape shook his head. “She was a little younger than I. I was halfway through my masters when she first contacted me about the possible medicinal properties of sage. She was beginning her own mastery in healing.” 

“So mother was intelligent. Ravenclaw?” 

“Only a Gryffindor would have enough audacity to skip over dozens of potion masters to ask a lowly apprentice.” A sad smile tugged on Snape’s harsh features.  

“My mother was a Gryffindor?” 

Snape nodded and turned back to the cauldron. “She was a Gryffindor; a woman of intelligence, passion and so kind.” Snape swallowed thickly. “I was not forth coming with her inquiries at first... she was persistent. And she always used to cook with sage, I used to tell her she was completely obsessed with that damn herb more than...” Snape blinked rapid and left his sentence to hang in the air. 

“What was her name? Where is she now?” 

Snape gestured for silence. “Forgive me Cyrus... when I am ready I’ll tell you more.” 

Cyrus stared up into his father’s face. The older wizard looked so downcast that he reluctantly agreed and slipped away from the potions lab. 

 Harry huddled uneasily in the greenhouse. It had been raining all day and Harry had not brought a cloak with him to keep warm. Unlike some of the other children, Harry only had the bare minimum of the Hogwarts uniform range.  Harry was pretty sure he was the only Gryffindor that had only one winter cloak. And that one winter cloak had formed a blanket underneath him to stop mud soaking into the sweat pants he used for pyjamas. Even that was getting a little thin and tatty as he had been forced to use it for bedding over the summer.

 To make things worse; Blaise was late and the blasted rain could get in through the greenhouse. He was so cold he was numb.  Harry tucked his knees to his chest and nose to his knees so that he was curled over.

“I should never have come,” Harry muttered. “Blaise is probably hyperventilating with laughter by now.”  

“Ahh... that’s what you think about me when my back is turned.”  

Harry’s head shot up. Blaise had finally turned up and was grinning madly. Harry wanted to wipe the ridiculous smile off his brother’s face. 

“You’re late Blaise... and I’m blinking cold.” 

“It’s Cyrus,” Blaise snapped the cheeky grin falling from his face. “And you should have brought a waterproof cloak with you.” Despite Blaise’s annoyance and lecturing tone the Slytherin boy wrapped the edge of his cloak around Harry’s shaking shoulders.  

“My cloak is on the ground in case you hadn’t noticed.” 

“Then bring two.” Harry looked at Blaise as if he was stupid.

“I only have one.” 

“Oh?” Blaise blinked and looked guiltily at the muddy cloak they were sitting on. “You can have my cloaks from last year.” 

“I can’t...” 

“Well you can’t go around without anything for warmth. Face it. Your cloak has seen much better days. I can’t just let you wonder about Hogwarts without a cloak and getting ill.” 

Harry sighed and stretched his fingers. “If you knew who I was you would.” 

“Only a silly Gryffindor would speak like that.” Cyrus sniffed in indignation. “I can count myself among the traditional Slytherins. What do you honestly think is the most important thing to a traditional Slytherin?” 

“Power? Prestige? Purebloodedness?” Harry hazard throwing his hands up in the air. 

Cyrus winced visibly and sent a sidelong glance at Harry. “You have to be a Gryff with self esteem issues?” 

Harry didn’t deign to answer; instead he stared diligently off into the darkness. 

“Mum was a Gryffindor,” Cyrus informed Harry with a wistful sigh. “I think dad is still madly in love with her. Isn’t that romantic?” 

“I didn’t take you for the romantic type.” 

“Not usually,” Cyrus confessed with a frown. “There’s something terribly romantically mysterious with our mother. Anyway my point is; family is the most important aspect of Slytherin clan life.” 

“Clan?”  

“Were you brought up under a rock or something?” Cyrus snorted. “Like eh... Malfoy is a family in the Archibald clan; Nott is a family group connected to Sutcliff and Weasley to Nika.” 

Harry blinked dumbly. How could there be a whole family system that he didn’t know about? 

“Let’s take Gryffindor, that should be a name you are familiar with. Now there are no ‘Gryffindor’ family in existence but the name Gryffindor has been broken down to Potter, Dalton , Cathmor  and Linleigh; together they form the Gryffindor family of clans.” 

“Oh.” 

“So yeah, family is more important than this house rivalry rubbish.” 

“Oh.” 

“Can’t possibly be a Ravenclaw with your eloquent speech. Perhaps you are a Hufflepuff after all?”