Damn, Draco grumbled. Severus had gone up to Dumbledore's office, where the wards were fortified, and required a password to enter. He just had to find out what was going on with Potter. He had purposely circulated rumours about Potter being possessed by the Dark Lord's spirit, and had met with Skeeter once more to plant the seed of suspicion in her head as well. There should be a nice headline tomorrow morning in the Daily Prophet, Draco thought gleefully. But still, he wasn’t satisfied. He wanted to know what was really going on with Potter even though he suspected that the rumours were not that far from the truth.

“Psst...Malfoy,” a deep voice beckoned him from the shadows.

Draco wasn't stupid. He pulled out his wand cautiously, prepared. After all, Draco had begun training as a Death Eater. He had been trained to trust no one.

“Who's there?” He asked suspiciously.

“It's me.” Adams showed himself to Draco, shifting his head back and forth, verifying that they were alone.

Draco's eyes widened in surprised. “Adams?”

“Yes Malfoy,” he said, rolling his eyes.

Draco's stomach churned with anxiety. Although Draco was quite tall, and not exactly scrawny, the boy before him still stood several inches taller than him and Draco could see the bulging muscles, even through the boy's robes.

“What is it, Adams?” Draco asked cockily, even though his insides squirmed like jelly.

“I know that Potter is not exactly one of your favourite people either,” Adams drawled, looking his nose down at Draco. It gave Draco the creeps.

“Uh...no, he's not,” Draco said in disgust.

“The little rat almost got me expelled,” Adams said nastily. “I've got detention until I graduate; and Snape laid into me too for hurting his little boy,” he grumbled.

Draco did not envy Adams on that score. He knew Severus' temper; had been at the receiving end of his lectures often enough to know how it felt. Draco wondered where Adams was going with this though. Did he call Draco over, only to gripe about Potter?

Adams' face twisted into a nasty scowl. “I was wondering if you'd be interested in exacting a little revenge on Potter.”

Draco gaped at the boy. Yeah, he hated Potter, but he had a feeling that what Adams was suggesting could land the both of them in Azkaban.

“What did you have in mind?” Draco asked the bigger boy hesitantly.

Adams studied Draco's face intensely. “I was hoping that you might have some suggestions. I was thinking along the lines of a little Potions accident, or a wayward curse in Defence class. You have both classes with Potter, don't you?”

“Look I'm not doing anything that's going to land us in Azkaban,” Malfoy objected.

Adams' face flushed with anger. He grabbed Malfoy by the collar, and glared at him threateningly.

“You're a spineless coward, aren't you Malfoy,” he sneered.

“Gentlemen,” a voice drawled behind them. “Is there a problem?” Severus narrowed his eyes at both of them.

Once again Adams' bravado deflated in the face of Severus' dangerous presence. Malfoy was tempted to point that out to the Slytherin, but as he was walking a thin line of deceit and treachery himself, he thought better of it. Best to let Severus come to his own conclusions about what had transpired between the two of them. After all, he did have to sleep in the same dorm as the massive Slytherin.

“Uh, no sir,” stammered Adams guiltily.

“Really?” Severus lifted his eyebrow in doubt. “Then why were you threatening Mr. Malfoy?”

Adams gulped nervously. Just how much had Snape overheard?

“My office now, Mr. Adams. It would seem that we need to have another chat,” Snape hissed.

Before Draco could gloat however, Severus turned his attention to the boy, and fixed him with a stern glare that sent shivers down Draco's spine.

“I would like to speak with you as well, Mr. Malfoy,” he said smoothly. “End of classes tomorrow, in my office.”

Draco's face blanched. “Yes sir,” he whispered nervously.

Oh, Draco what the hell have you gotten yourself into, Severus thought sadly to himself.

“Very well, Mr. Malfoy. You will return to the common room immediately,” he ordered curtly. “Is that clear?”

Draco nodded. “Yes sir.”

----

As Severus opened the door to his quarters, he heard a scuffle and patter of footsteps. It appeared that the formulation wasn't quite as strong as he had thought.

He took in Potter's still form in the bed with the covers over his face.

Severus went over and ripped the covers off the bed, and looked down his large nose at the obviously-awake boy, with his eyes pinched closed, hands balled into fists.

“Give it up, Potter; I know you're awake.” Severus rolled his eyes. “Either that, or it was a herd of hippogriffs that I heard galloping through our quarters,” he said acerbically. “And since hippogriffs are not permitted in Hogwarts, then I assume that what I heard was the very loud footsteps of one very stubborn Harry Potter, who is supposed to be resting, not up and about getting into Merlin knows what sort of mischief.”

Harry sighed. Did the man have some sort of potions-enhanced hearing? He opened his eyes to a tight-lipped, arms-crossed, very pissed-off looking Potions master.

Before Harry had a chance to utter a word, Severus had whipped out his wand, muttered a very Latin-sounding phrase—at least to Harry's ears it sounded Latin, since he had little knowledge of the language—and put his wand back in his robes pocket. He crossed his arms once more, and wore a very smug expression indeed, Harry thought suspiciously.

Sure enough, when Harry attempted to sit up, he discovered to his very unpleasant surprise, that he was stuck to the sheets. He glared furiously at the man before him, who looked very much like the cat that swallowed the canary.

“What the hell did you do to me, Snape? Take this spell off immediately,” he ordered furiously.

Severus lifted an eyebrow. “First of all, Potter...you were warned what would happen if you didn't obey orders and stay in bed. I feel no guilt whatsoever in following through on my threat,” he said smugly. “Second of all, if you don't adjust your attitude, I must inform you that I know a wonderful spell that will seal your lips tightly, until I deem that you have sufficiently learnt the proper respect for not only your professor, and deputy headmaster, but your father,” he finished with a smirk.

“Go. To. Hell. Snape,” Harry said through gritted teeth. He managed to grab his pillow from underneath his head and throw it at Severus. However, he soon found out that throwing an object while lying down, did not have the satisfying results that one might wish. As Harry wasn't able to put much force behind it, the pillow merely landed at Severus' feet.

The man actually had the gall to laugh. Harry scowled. This isn't fair. Once again the ugly git was holding all the cards.

“Let me up, you ugly git-”

Snape pointed his wand threateningly at Harry who wisely shut up. He huffed and clamped his mouth shut, glaring daggers at the man before him.

Severus couldn't help it. He was exacting enormous pleasure from seeing the boy so frustrated. He knew that he was evil, but he was Slytherin after all. So, he made no excuses for his behaviour.

“Now, if you lie quietly, and keep your mouth shut for the next couple of hours, I'll allow your friends to visit you after dinner.” He narrowed his eyes. “However, if you continue to rant and rave like a banshee-” he lifted the corners of his mouth in a small smile, “-I'll have to take other measures to assure my aching head some peace and quiet.”

Severus picked up one of Harry's schoolbooks from the night table, and handed it to the white-faced, tight-lipped boy lying on the bed.

“Here, read pages 235 to page 480. I will test you on it later.” Severus flicked his wand and the lantern beside Harry's bed flickered and lit up the room in a soft glow.

----

Harry resentfully read his Potions text for the next couple of hours, and was relieved when Snape came in carrying a tray of delicious-smelling foods. He was starving, his head ached and his eyes burned.

Snape studied the boy's pinched face, and realised guiltily that perhaps forcing him to study for several hours had caused him discomfort.

He handed Harry a phial of pain reliever. “Take this before you eat.”

“How am I supposed to eat if I can't sit up,” Harry asked grumpily.

“Will you behave yourself and stay in bed?” Severus returned. “Poppy will be coming by later to examine you, and I'd rather not have to explain to her why you have suffered a setback.”

Harry studied Severus' expression. As usual the man's face was a mask. But Harry was beginning to understand his father. The man would never openly admit to being concerned for Harry. He would never express any emotion at all for that matter, but Harry was beginning to recognize the subtle signs of Severus’ shifts in mood. When Severus became gruff and no-nonsense, more often than not, he was attempting to hide his worry and concern with a facade of sternness, but Snape couldn't erase the flicker of worry that shone in his eyes.

Harry felt guilty now. The man was only trying to do what was best for him, and Harry was constantly fighting him. They had a long way to go in their relationship still, Harry realised with a pang of regret.

Severus was accustomed to dealing with Harry by constantly exerting his authority over him, and Harry was used to fighting back, just for the sake of doing something contrary to what Snape wanted; just for the sake of defiance. Harry knew that he needed to be more mature, and realise that more often than not lately, the man was attempting to make an effort, and Harry was being obstinate because he didn't want to give the man the satisfaction of doing what Severus told him to do. If only Snape would talk to him on the same level, then perhaps it would make a difference, but every time he spit out an order, Harry's back went up and he was determined to do the opposite of what he was told to do. No matter that what the man was telling him to do had merit; and was in his best interest.

This whole father/son scenario was much harder than Harry had ever imagined. Lord knows that this was not how he imagined it to be when he thought that James was his father. He used to have fantasies when he was younger, of how he and James would do things together, be best friends and have this wonderful relationship. He had had the same dreams when he had thought that he would have been able to go live with Sirius. He had never really thought of Sirius as an authority figure though; more as someone fun-loving and easy-going, and Harry always envisioned that had he been allowed to live with Sirius, that Sirius would have been more like an older brother, rather than a guardian. They would have been best buddies.

James had seemed more like what a father should be; sensitive and understanding, caring and gentle. He had seemed like the kind of father that Harry had seen on the telly. And then there was Snape. Needless to say, Snape was nothing like what he had hoped to have in a father. Bad-tempered, bossy, sarcastic and insulting; no, that was definitely not how he had imagined the perfect father to be.

Although, Harry had to admit, albeit reluctantly, that it felt good to have Snape be so protective of him. Of course, Harry's macho self didn't appreciate it outwardly, but when Ginny had recounted how Snape had laid into Adams and told him that he ever laid a finger on his son again, that he would regret it, a warm glow had settled over him, and he had actually felt pride in having Snape as his father. Of course, there were other times when Harry wanted to turn back the hands of time, and pretend that the man wasn't related to him. If Harry were honest with himself though, these times were becoming less frequent, and even when he was angry with the man, he could see that Snape was trying.

----

Severus studied his son's animated features, as Harry interacted with his friends. He had to admit, that allowing Harry to have visitors, had been the right thing to do. As long as the visit was kept quiet and not too taxing for Harry, perhaps lifting the boy's morale would be beneficial to his recovery.

Harry was still experiencing headaches and mild dizzy spells, and Severus wouldn't admit it out loud, but he was concerned that if Harry overdid it, he would slip back into unconsciousness and Severus knew that should that happen again, then perhaps the result would not be so positive, this time around.

Severus experienced a pang of regret as he watched the interaction between Harry and his friends. It was ridiculous, Severus realised, to compare a father and son relationship with that of his son's peers but nevertheless, he envied the ease with which they carried on a conversation, and the familiarity that they had with Harry. If only he could ever imagine having a discussion with his son, that didn't end in one of them wanting to hex the other. Frankly, Severus knew that he was the one mostly to blame for the animosity between the two of them. But unfortunately, as Severus was nearing forty, his character was set in stone, and Harry would have to be the one to adapt to it. That's just the way it was. Severus would of course, do his best to curb his tendency towards irascibility, but does a leopard change it's spots?

When it was obvious that Harry was becoming once again drained of energy, Severus put a stop to the visit and ordered Harry's friends to leave. Harry objected; although Severus noticed that it was only a half-hearted attempt. He rather suspected that his son was grateful that Severus could once again be the bad guy, and not have to admit his vulnerability to his friends. Severus noticed the boy was loath to admit any sort of weakness to his friends, even if it was to his detriment. That was one trait that they had in common. Poppy had told Severus on more than one occasion, after he had tried to leave the hospital wing against her orders, that he was a hard-headed man, and she had similarly threatened to put him into a full body-bind should he attempt to leave his hospital bed again!

Severus had of course grumbled, but he knew better than to disobey the stern witch! There were not too many people that could bully Severus Snape into submission, but Poppy was one of them.

Harry was drained. He had really enjoyed the visit with his friends, but was frustrated at how quickly he became tired. He reluctantly admitted to himself that Snape was right to limit his visitors. Of course, he'd never voice those thoughts to the man, who would probably taunt him with, “I told you so”.

He gladly took the pain relief from Snape's hand and gulped it down quickly, his eyelids quickly closed, and was soon sleeping peacefully, unknowingly with a small smile on his lips.

----

Several days, and many arguments later, Severus allowed Harry to leave his bed, after Poppy had cleared him for somewhat normal activity. Of course, she had added a stern warning to him to pick on someone his own size next time. Harry had not been amused.

Harry's stomach fluttered with nerves as he and Severus made their way up the walk-way to Horace Slughorn's door. Severus had already snapped at him to get a grip, several times that day, when Harry's nerves got the better of him and he, in Severus' opinion, had begun rattling off inane questions.

Harry couldn't control his anxiety. He was worried that Slughorn wouldn't be able to help him, and was also hopeful that he could. The result was that his stomach felt like the agitator on a Muggle washing machine. His palms were sweaty and he couldn't quite decide if his cloak was suffocatingly warm, or too thin to prevent his uncontrollable shivering.

Severus glared at Harry. "Will you get a hold of yourself, Potter? You'd think that you were on your way to the gallows.”

Harry had a childish desire to stick his tongue out at the git. Deciding that that was perhaps not the best course of action under the circumstances, he clamped his mouth shut before he did something he would regret. Of course, he also had to control his left leg so as to stop himself from sticking it out and watching his father's rather large nose fall flat into the snow. Harry was rather proud of his self-discipline in controlling his wayward body-parts. Of course, anticipating Snape's reaction was a motivating factor.

Severus narrowed his eyes at Harry. "Let me do the talking. With the gibberish that's coming out of your mouth today, we don't want Horace to think that you are also being possessed by a Cornish pixie.”

Harry felt a twitch in his left leg again. Before he had a chance to succumb to his ill-advised plan, a disheveled-looking Horace answered Severus' sharp rap on the door.

Horace gawked at the unlikely sight before him. Harry Potter and Severus Snape on his doorstep! And both in one piece!

He shook his head in disbelief. “Harry Potter and Severus Snape... together. Here-- on my doorstep. I never thought I’d see the day.”

“Well, actually it’s Harry Snape now,” Harry said with a sly look at Severus.

Horace's jaw dropped, and Severus gifted Harry with his fiercest glare.

"I'm just joking. It's still Harry Potter," Harry said hastily.

At Horace's look of confusion, Severus asked, "Have you not been following the news, Horace?"

"No, I've been rather a recluse of late," Horace explained.

Harry smirked at Severus. "We've got some catching up to do then, don't we, Severus?"

Whack!

Harry rubbed the back of his head, and glared at his father. "Hey! What's that for?" He exclaimed.

"That's for not keeping your big mouth shut," Severus hissed. Honestly, at this rate he would not have a black hair left on his head. What part of, let me do the talking, had the boy not understood!

Horace’s eyes darted back and forth between the two wizards.

"May we enter Horace, and I'll explain the reason for our visit," Severus said wearily, and shooting another look at Harry that clearly said to keep his lips sealed.

"Oh my, where are my manners?" Horace gestured them into the house. "Please have a seat,” he invited.

Severus pointed to a dilapidated green chair that looked like it had seen better days. "Sit," he ordered Harry.

Harry eyed the chair uncertainly. The fabric was faded, and there was stuffing and rusty springs peeking out. However, he swallowed his hesitation quickly, as he noticed his father's expression becoming stormy once more.

“Would you care for some tea?" Horace asked, motioning to the tea cart behind him.

"Yes please," Harry said politely.

Severus nodded in the affirmative. Personally, Severus thought that a glass of Firewhiskey would have been more appreciated at the moment.

Horace went to pour the tea; all the while, glancing back at the two wizards who were obviously engaged in some sort of private communication, if the tell-tale glares passing between them, were anything to judge by. Perhaps his assumption that they were actually getting along, was a trifle premature.

As Horace waited patiently for an explanation for this unexpected visit, he studied Harry and Severus over the brim of his teacup.

Just as Horace thought he would explode from curiosity, Severus clanked his teacup on the plate, splashing hot tea over the sides of the cup, and saucer. "I apologize for our intrusion Horace, but I find I'm in need of your counsel," Severus began seriously.

Horace furrowed his brow in confusion. It was a rare occurrence indeed when Severus Snape needed, or wanted, advice from anyone. Even while he had been a student, Severus had been loath to confide in the teachers, staff, and even his Head of House. He was a private man, who preferred to suffer in silence, rather than burden another with his problems. It was not often either, that the man could not resolve a problem on his own, so profound was his knowledge and expertise in many disciplines. Whatever could he offer this man in terms of guidance?

"How may I be of assistance, Severus?" Horace inquired curiously.

Severus took a deep breath. "I must admit Horace that I had rather hoped that you were already cognizant of recent events concerning Mr. Potter and myself."

Now Horace was positively bursting at the seams with curiosity. "What events are you referring to?"

Severus rubbed his brow, trying to determine how best to explain the series of events that had led him and Harry into this dilemma.

"During Potter's fifth year," he began slowly, "I discovered that I was his biological father."

Horace's eyes widened in surprise. "Well, this is certainly unexpected." His eyes crinkled in confusion. "I gather that this was not public knowledge until recently, since I've not heard of it before."

Severus shook his head. "No, it was not. I was not allowed to disclose to Potter that I was his father. It would not have been safe for him or I, should the Dark Lord have discovered our familial relationship."

"Yes, of course, that makes sense." Horace studied the two wizards. The similarities were subtle, if one were to examine their features closely. Other than Harry's dark hair, he quite resembled Lily, and the immediate impression of James Potter, came more from Harry's round glasses, so like James, rather than from an actual physical resemblance. As a matter of fact, as Harry had matured, his face had thinned, giving him a more fine-boned appearance.

Horace clapped his hand on his thigh. He smiled at Harry. "Well that explains your proficiency in Potions then. You come by it honestly from both parents."

Harry choked on his tea. He happened a glance over at Severus, who was smirking at him. "Uh, yes sir, I guess that must be it." Harry felt his face heat up. Thank Merlin that Slughorn was not still his Professor. He'd have some serious explaining to do!

Severus was taking great pleasure in his son's discomfort. "Yes Horace, I was just telling Potter the other day that when it came to his potion-making skills, that he took a leaf out of my book," he said dryly.

Harry pursed his lips and narrowed his eyes at his father. He was just enjoying this too much, Harry thought angrily. He was relieved when Severus changed the subject.

Severus' expression turned serious. "Now for the real reason behind our visit."

Horace looked at the peaked features of the Potions master. Good Lord. There was more? He wasn't sure if his old ticker could take any more shocking news today. Harry Potter was Severus Snape's son! Never in a million years would Horace have imagined such a thing. And now, his senses were on alert that the news about to be imparted was no less extraordinary.

Horace was not to be disappointed.

"I actually did not survive my last encounter with the Dark Lord," Severus began morbidly.

Was Severus implying that he was a figment of Horace's imagination? A hallucination? Or God forbid...an ethereal spirit? Horace's imagination was running wild, and his confusion was further clouded by Severus' forthcoming tale.

"I suffered a fatal wound from the Dark Lord's snake, Nagini." At Horace's look of confusion, Severus elaborated, "No Horace, I'm not a ghost. I'm very much alive--thanks to Mr. Potter's unsolicited intervention."

Horace massaged his forehead. He was beginning to regret having answered the doorbell.

"I'm sorry Severus, but...but, are you saying that you were brought back from the Veil? By Harry?" His eyes clouded in confusion. "But how?"

Severus searched for words carefully. "Mr. Potter discovered our familial relationship, quite by accident--having viewed my Pensieved memories. He then...after further intrusion into my private thoughts-" He glared at Harry, who rolled his eyes, "-discovered that I had been forced by the Dark Lord, as had all his servants, to create a Horcrux."

Horace blanched.

"Subsequently," Severus continued, despite Horace's obvious shock. "Mr. Potter....in his infinite wisdom, decided to use the Horcrux to bring me back from the Veil by using ancient Dark Magic. He inadvertently absorbed said Dark Magic when he was consumed by a backlash of magic, from the ritual used to invoke the Horcrux."

Severus took a breath as Horace stared at him. “And now, we need your help to remove the Dark Magic that still inhabits him…”