Harry held his breath, stepped into the floo, and shouted, "Minister’s office!" Pulled forward in a haze a soot, he finally tumbled out of the grate in Fudge’s office. Dumbledore was already there, thanking Fudge for allowing them to floo directly into his office. Apparently, the atrium was filled with reporters, and there was some concern as to whether Harry and company would be able to get through the crowds in order to undergo testing.

"Yes, well," Fudge huffed, we need to get this over with, and having you swamped with reporters won’t exactly help the matter. There will be plenty of opportunities for press conferences once this ridiculous situation is put to rest." Fudge was nearly bouncing as he said it, his small, beady eyes alight with anticipation at the prospect of a roomful of eager reporters. "If you will follow me, please."

They left the Minister’s office - Fudge and Dumbledore in the lead, Harry and Snape pulling up the rear. Harry had been anxious to have the paternity test, since it might show that Snape wasn’t his father, but the closer he go to it, the more apprehensive he became. What did he have to do for it? Was it a potion or a spell? What if the showed Snape was his father... how would it feel to see that supposed fact confirmed by magical means? Or, what if Snape wasn’t his father? Fudge would want custody, but what if he didn’t let Harry continue at Hogwarts? It was a sobering thought. Without realizing it, Harry began to walk slower, as if he could postpone the inevitable by taking smaller steps.

"Potter, you’re lagging," Snape stated. "Keep up."

Harry rolled his eyes and quickened his step. As they made their way along, Harry could feel heads turning as they passed through the labyrinth of passages that was the Ministry of Magic. He kept his eyes straight ahead, willing his ears to not hear the words being whispered in the corridors...

"Father?..."

"He’s a Death Eater’s kid?"

"Nothin’ normal ‘bout that kid, is there?..."

The comments swirled around them, and Harry wished desperately that they would get to where ever they were going. He had always been an outsider, and being stared at was nothing new. But this time...well... it was different. Harry wasn’t sure why - maybe it was because it was so soon after the Ministry, or maybe it was because the situation was about family, which he couldn’t help but think was a very personal subject. But whatever the reason, there was something about the whole thing that made the rude comments and intrusive stares seem that much worse. It was like having your most intimate fears - and hopes - put on display for others to gawk at and comment on...

Shaking his head, Harry did his best to keep himself focused on Dumbledore, who had just passed through a set of open double doors. Beyond the Headmaster, Harry could see a large group of people congregating. It was almost as if they were waiting to catch a glimpse of him as he passed. Harry dropped his head to avoid looking at them, while silently praying that he could keep Dumbledore’s shoes in his sight. It wouldn’t be good if he lost track of Fudge and the Headmaster...

To his surprise, Harry felt a stiff pressure against his back. It took a moment, but he eventually realized that Snape had placed a rough hand on his shoulder and was guiding him past the throng of people into a cordoned off area of the Ministry. He didn’t really like having Snape’s hand on his shoulder, but he was so desperate to escape the horde of people that he didn’t question it. He just kept his head down and let the older wizard guide him. Rounding a last corner, the group came to a halt outside of plain, unmarked door.

Fudge and Dumbledore turned to look expectantly at Harry. "After you, Harry," Dumbledore stated airily.

Harry hesitated, but the slight push from the Potions Master told him that it was time. Taking a deep breath, Harry stepped over the threshold into a brightly lit, sterile looking room that smelled, oddly enough, of chemical disinfectant. It reminded Harry of Aunt Petunia’s kitchen after a particularly violent bout of cleaning. Various magical instruments; bandages, wraps and medical supplies were scattered about, and rather uncomfortable looking stainless steel exam table sat forbiddingly in the middle of the room. In the far corner of the room, two men stood, backs to Harry, looking into a cauldron filled with liquid. The paternity test was clearly a potion, as opposed to a spell.

"Eh-hem," Fudge coughed.

"Ah, yes, Minister Fudge!" A tall, lanky wizard with dark hair turned away from the cauldron and greeted the Minister with a handshake. His attention, however, soon moved to Harry.

"And, of course," he said, "Mr. Potter." A broad smile played on the man’s square features. "I am Mr. Alios, head of Wizarding Family Services. It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance again." He said, extending a hand to Harry in greeting. For a minute, Harry thought he saw a brief glance between Snape and the new wizard, but the moment passed and Harry couldn’t quite tell what the exchange represented, if anything.

"Again?" Harry asked. He couldn’t remember having ever met the man before, although he did look slightly familiar.

"Yes," Alios explained. "After the Potters were killed, Professor Dumbledore arranged to have your care transferred to your mother’s relatives, which meant that Family Services was involved."

Harry could feel a muscle twitching along the side of his jaw. Damn Dumbledore. He was still angry with the Headmaster - for Sirius, for the Prophecy, hiding his parentage - everything. Hearing Alios talk about the Headmaster’s manipulations so frankly ignited a spark of anger in his heart. It must have shown, because Alios’ voice softened and he smiled gently at Harry.

"It seems, though," the elder wizard continued kindly, "that you may have living family, eh? Wonderful news!"

Harry snorted, earning him a laugh from Alios and a rather stern look from Dumbledore. He quickly tried to cover his mistake with a cough, but it was no good. Alios’ smile only seemed to grow wider.

"Yes, sir," Harry mumbled half-heartedly.

"Yes, well, there is always a period of adjustment with such things, is there not?" Alios said as he patted Harry on the back. "Just give yourself and your father time."

Out of the corner of his eye, Harry could see Snape grimacing. The man had no patience for platitudes. Harry, on the other hand, liked Alios. The man had a quick, genuine smile and his presence was strangely comforting. And yet, there was something about him that made Harry think that the man wasn’t a pushover, either. All in all, Alios seemed like a good sort to run a Family Services department. Kind, even-tempered, and firm, which was, Harry supposed, what parents were supposed to be like. Nothing at all like Snape...

"Mr. Alios," Fudge snapped, "don’t you think we should perform the paternity test before we conclude that Professor Snape is his father? You’re acting like it’s been confirmed already, when I, in fact, have grave doubts about the legitimacy of this man’s claim." Fudge waved an angry hand towards Snape. Alios was unfazed.

"Yes, yes, Minister," he agreed, "we shall proceed at once." Alios pointed to the last person left in the room to be introduced - a short, squat little man in white robes, who was standing near the cauldron.

"This is Mr. Bulger, he’s the technician who has been helping with the potion. He will also help with sample collection." The little wizard smiled half-heartedly as he wiped the sweat from the steaming cauldron off of his brow.

Harry took a moment to inspect the potion a bit closer. It looked even more disgusting than Polyjuice. Thick and blood-red in color, it has a pungent odor that smelled like rotten eggs. As for the consistency, it was ... well, gooey. Rather like a foul version of molasses. As he watched, a few large, heavy drops of liquid bubbled over the edge and slipped down the side of the cauldron, landing with a grotesque splat on the white marble floor. Harry shivered. It reminded him of another cauldron filled with red liquid...  Harry looked away quickly. He just wanted to get this over with. He had no idea why he’d been in such a hurry to come here, but now he felt sick to his stomach. Determined to be done with the ordeal, Harry squared his shoulders, marched forward, and hopped up onto the exam table.

"Well, then," he said sarcastically. "Let’s get this going, shall we? My Dad is going to take me out for ice-cream and soda-pop after this. If you take too long and mess it up, he’ll hex you into next week. He really likes ice cream, you know."

Severus snorted. It would be a cold day in hell before he took Potter out for ice cream. But still, Severus was glad to see that Potter was plowing forward instead of cowering in the corner. Dumbledore and Alios must have liked the child’s attitude also, because they were both grinning. Bulger, the tech, however, looked hopelessly confused. When Potter sat down on the exam table, Bulger had immediate set to work on collecting the sampling supplies. But, after the relatively threatening comment, the tech stopped dead in his tracks. He looked at Severus, then at Potter, and then back to Severus again, the befuddled expression never leaving his face. He was clearly wondering whether he could move fast enough to collect the sample without getting hexed. It was a bit funny, in Severus’ opinion. But the humor in the situation was short-lived, and Severus found himself growing impatient with the tech’s immobility. Finally, Severus had had enough.

"Oh for Merlin’s sake," he yelled. "If you are incapable of collecting the sample, I will do it for you."

Severus shoved past the tech and quickly grabbed a gleaming silver dagger that had been laying discretely on the counter next to Alios. The tech looked terrified yet strangely relieved, and Severus had to stifle the urge to hex him. Surely there was a good reason to do so ... delayed ice cream or not. Severus shook his head and managed, with no small effort, to suppress that particular urge. Instead, turned his attention to the task at hand. He had the dagger, now he just needed a collection tube... Severus looked around to find Alios, grin on his face, waggling the necessary vial in his hand.

"Damn that man," Severus thought. "He’s enjoying this a little too much."

Severus quickly snatched the vial away from Alios while shooting him a withering glare. Without further ado, he closed the distance to Potter and unceremoniously grabbed the child’s arm. Severus assumed that Dumbledore would have, at some point previous, explained the procedure to the child so as to prepare him. But, apparently that wasn’t the case, because he felt Potter tense and pull back from him. Well, this wasn’t the time to be having second thoughts... Severus yanked his arm back into place and quickly brought the dagger to bear against the crook of the arm. And then something clunked into place in his head, making the child’s unexpected tension at the knife blazingly clear. There, raised and red, was the evidence of Potter’s tortured time in the graveyard.

Severus stared at the jagged scar that ran along the young wizard’s inner arm. It wasn’t a large or distinctive mark, and Madame Pomfrey had done much to heal it so as to minimize any scarring. But still, it was there, and it was a reminder - for Potter and for himself - that the child had recently had a very bad experience involving a blood-based potion. It was no wonder that Potter was tense. He hadn’t known he would need to provide a blood sample, and he felt cornered.

Severus looked up. Potter was white-faced, but his jaw was set in a hard line and the child was glaring daggers at the Potions Master.

"Potter," Severus snapped, "Has anyone explained this test to you?"

"When has anyone ever told me anything?" Harry shot back angrily. "And who was going to tell me? My father? Please, give me a break."

Severus felt his anger flare to life. He hated Potter’s attitude. A small voice in the back of his mind whispered that maybe Potter had a point. After all, how many people in the child’s life that had ever been completely candid with him? But still, even if that was the case, the child’s attitude was intolerable. The whole situation was intolerable, and it should never have gone this far. It wouldn’t have, except for Lily’s foul harpy of a sister and her walrus-like husband. How could they just kick the child out? He was their nephew - who abandons family like that, anyway? And as that question registered in Severus’ brain, another slippery thought entered beside it...

"You did."

Severus slammed his hand down on the table next to Potter, oblivious to the alarmed looks from Dumbledore and Alios, and to the violent jerk backwards from Potter. Severus fumed. He wasn’t anything like the damned muggles. The situations were totally different. He had never wanted that child, never asked to be in that situation. And Potter should have had Lily and James...

The Potions Master inhaled deeply. He needed to get himself under control, and he needed to do it quickly. Drawing deeply on his occlumency skills, Severus managed to suppress his anger and the nagging thought of his own inadequacy. Focusing on Potter again, he briefly explained the procedure.

"Potter," Severus stated, his voice low and threatening. "This is a simple potion. But you’ll have to pay attention or it likely won’t penetrate your thick skull," he sneered. "The potion in the cauldron is what is known as a blood-based potion. That means that the constituent ingredients of the potion are linked to a blood product that is woven into the potion base. When a second blood product is introduced, the ingredients will react, or not react, to the magical markers on the new blood product. If the second blood product is a direct magical derivative of the first blood product - in other words, if the blood that runs through your veins came directly from me - the potion will not change color. If the blood products are not directly related, the potion will turn clear."

Severus could see Potter digesting the information. It looked painful. He gave the child another moment to turn the information over in his mind before quickly pressing the dagger to his arm. In his experience, it was best to perform these tests quickly and without much discussion when the subject showed any type of apprehension. To do otherwise caused anxiety to build, making the test even less comfortable for the subject. As he felt the knife slip easily along Potter’s skin, Severus was careful to avoid the older scar. Potter flinched backward, of course, but Severus held his arm in a painfully tight grip. When he was sure enough blood had flowed from the wound, he withdrew the vial and collected the necessary sample. Finished, Severus drew his wand to heal the cut. Before he could do so, Potter pulled his arm away. The child looked ready to kill him..

"Couldn’t you have at least warned me?" Harry hissed. He held his arm protectively at his chest, as if Severus was going to grab it and try to inflict even more damage. "I would have been able to mentally prepare myself."

"You’ve never been mentally prepared for anything in your life," Severus stated coldly. "Why start now?"  Potter didn’t say anything, he just glared. Severus glared back - spoiled teenagers didn’t scare him in the least. But Potter’s dramatics were taking up time, and Severus knew the sample was growing cold as they spoke.

"Potter, we don’t have time for this. Either hold your arm out now for me to heal or bleed to death on the floor. The choice is yours." Obviously, the child wasn’t going to bleed to death. But still, it was a nice thought.  Potter didn't respond, but the anger radiating from his eyes told Severus exactly how much the child resented him. Severus was almost surprised when Potter held out his arm. Without further comment, he healed the incision.

Having taken care of Potter, Severus turned his attention to the bubbling cauldron in the corner, where Dumbledore, Fudge, and Alios were gathered. Without ceremony, Severus tipped the contents of the vial into the viscous red liquid and waited for the results. As they watched, Harry’s blood swirled into the potion. It momentarily turned a deep, angry black, but then the color changed to red, making Harry’s blood indistinguishable from the bubbling goo in the cauldron and leaving the entire contents the same bloody color it had started as. The paternity test was positive. The only thing of note was a slight haze that formed above the cauldron. Dumbledore and Alios were both smiling. Fudge, however, looked like he was struggling not to lay an egg. His face was puffed-up and red, a vein was throbbing angrily at the edge of his temple, and he could barely speak through his anger.

"What?... how? ... Alios! How did this happen?" the Minister raged.

"You’re asking me to explain the birds and bees, Minister?" Alios asked innocently. Fudge, however, didn’t take kindly to the quip.

"Of course not," Fudge fired back, "but something is wrong! Surely you’ve noticed the mist above the cauldron? That, I’m certain, is not normal."

Snape was hoping Fudge would miss that, but sadly, the Minister had done at least a little homework on the potion. The potion had not changed color, which meant that, without a doubt, he was Potter’s father. No surprise there. The mist, however, only appeared when there was - for lack of a better word - interference. In this case, Snape was certain it was the illusion and the active presence of James Potter’s DNA in Harry’s blood.

"Yes, I did notice that," Alios responded curtly. "There is obviously more to the situation, but nevertheless, the test results are conclusive. Professor Snape is Mr. Potter’s father."

Fudge was livid. Severus, however, didn’t feel the need to join the argument. Frankly, he thought it best to remain quiet for a moment and see if Alios would do his fighting for him. After all, he really wasn’t thrilled with the situation. It would be hard to muster a lot of enthusiasm and argue for his status as parent.

"Now see here, Alios, I won’t have custody of the Boy-Who-Lived handed over to a known Death Eater! For Merlin’s sake, man, you work for the Ministry!"

"Yes, I do, and I take my job very seriously," Alios responded curtly. "I am giving you my considered opinion that, after review and relevant Ministry testing, Professor Snape is Harry Potter’s father." Alios was clearly angry at being challenged, and he wasn’t about to allow Fudge to operate under the mistaken believe that he, as Minister, was in charge.

"There are some unresolved questions regarding the source of the mist, but it is clear, just from looking at the child, that he is wearing an illusion," Alios continued. "This, I believe is the source of the mist, and it is in no way a reason to deny Professor Snape custody of his son."

"Then take off the illusion!"

"That, Minister, is up to Mr. Potter’s father. Our rules are clear - a positive test result on a Ministry conducted test is conclusive as to paternity. Extraneous factors, such as an illusion, may be detected in the test, as we see with the mist, but those factors have no bearing upon the validity of the results. My decision is firm."

"If you value your job, you will reverse your decision," Fudge seethed, but Alios remained unaffected.

"If you dislike my ruling, Minister, you can appeal it. But as I am sure you know, an order to terminate parental rights - even those of a Death Eater - requires a hearing before a panel of governing members. You’ll need to submit a petition to the Wizengamot to reverse my ruling."

Alios’ voice was cold, and his eyes held absolutely no regard for the Minister. Severus wasn’t surprised. Alios worked for the Ministry, but he wasn’t fond of Fudge. But then again, most people weren’t. How the man stayed in office was beyond Severus’ understanding...

Fudge was sputtering violently. The Minister had clearly thought that he would have Potter in custody at the conclusion of the test, and this unexpected development apparently left him at a loss for what to do next. Severus caught Dumbledore’s eye. He could tell that the Headmaster was ready to depart from the Ministry before Fudge could figure out a way to detain them further. Severus agreed - it was best to be going.

"Minister, I am taking my son back to Hogwarts. If you need to discuss this matter with me further, you know where to find me." Pulling Potter off of the table, he looked squarely at the Minster.

"There’s no need to show us out." And with that, he yanked open the door and swept out of the room, Harry in tow.

Harry felt himself being pulled down the roughly down the hallway. He knew Snape had him by the arm, that Dumbledore was behind him, and even that people were gawking as they pushed past, but it really didn’t matter anymore. Harry was still thinking about the potion. And while he had known about Snape for a few days, a small part of him had still harbored some hope that it was all a big ruse, and that a paternity test would show that Snape wasn’t his father. But now, that hope was gone. He briefly toyed with the idea that the potion might have been fixed, but in retrospect, he doubted it. Fudge was too keen to get control of him to allow any tampering. And so, he was left with the sinking knowledge that Snape was, truly, his father. His thoughts, however, were interrupted when they stepped through a set of double doors that led directly into the Atrium.

Harry stopped cold. He could feel Snape tugging at him, but his feet were rooted to the floor. Looking around, the evidence of destruction was still present. The floor was gouged and cracked from the intense spell battle that had taken place. The security booth, once streamlined and neat, stood charred and blistered. But it was the absence of the Fountain of Magical Brethren that really brought the destruction home to Harry. This is where it had happened. Where his friends were injured. Where Sirius...

All of a sudden, Snape gave Harry a violent tug, jerking him towards the closest fireplace available. Harry suddenly realized what was happening. People were stampeding. They were everywhere, yelling, calling out... and running. Towards him.

"Oh, Merlin...," Harry breathed, "There’s a lot of them, aren’t there?"

"Don’t talk, Potter! Move!" Snape yelled. But in an instant, they were surrounded by reporters. Pushing through them, Snape seemed oblivious to the questions coming from all sides.

"...Professor Snape, Marge Milado from Wizarding Radio, is it true Harry Potter is your son?" The thin women in a bright red cape pushed a magical microphone at Snape, but he ignored her and pressed forward.

"Professor Snape, are you a Death Eater?" A dark haired man yelled out. Harry thought that question would surely irritate the Potions Master, but it didn’t seem to have any effect.

Then, out of nowhere, a short, plump woman with spiky brown hair and rhinestone trimmed glasses pushed through the crowd and nearly knocked Harry over. She looked a little like a crazed hedgehog, and Harry wondered briefly which organization she was representing. But when she announced herself, it made perfect sense, even if her question didn’t.

""Professor Snape - Betsy Bothers from the Quibbler - is it true you have another child named Ziggy, and that he lives with you and his mother, Moon Beam, in a secret love-shack by the sea?"

Harry burst out laughing. Leave it to the Quibbler... The reporters who heard the question immediately started laughing, but Snape seemed far from amused. He stopped suddenly and stared at her, a look of pure indignation on his face. Snapping his mouth shut, Snape shot Betsy a glare to could freeze water before once again tugging Harry towards the floo network. Harry was more than a little surprised at Snape’s reaction. It just seemed funny that, out of everything, it was a comment about a secret hippy family that got Snape’s goat. But in the end, Snape wasn’t the sort to tolerate idiocy, and Betsy clearly had gotten under his skin.

"Please, everyone," called Dumbledore. "Let’s have some order. Professor Snape may, at some point later, take questions on the situation. For now, though, he would like to return with his son to Hogwarts."

Their party continued towards the grate, even as Dumbledore was speaking. Having reached their destination, Harry stepped quickly into the floo behind Snape and the Headmaster. The reporters were still hollering out questions, and Betsy had even moved on to ask if it was true that Dumbledore had really decorated the love-shack boudoir to look like "the Jungle Room at Graceland", whatever that was... Dumbledore was fumbling in his pocket for floo powder. Just as he was ready to throw it down and call out "Hogwarts!", Rita Skeeter came into view. But as the floo fared to life, Harry heard her call out a question that sent him into a tailspin...

"Professor Snape, death records indicate you lost a wife and son 14 years ago - are those records correct, or is Potter that lost child...?"