Potions and Snitches
Snape and Harry Gen Fanfiction Archive

The Truth Unfolds
CHAPTER ONE: 9:00 P.M.

The owl was blue-gray with flecks of gold at the tip of each wing. Harry Potter did not recognize it as one that belonged to any of the friends that would normally correspond with him during the summer. He supposed it could belong to Hermione Granger, she had been talking about purchasing a new one towards the end of the last school year.

Harry opened his window and the large fowl swooped inside with a graceful arc and came to land on the top of the desk. A few pencils went flying against the wall with a clatter and Harry noticed that wet owl prints were now covering his latest Quidditch sketch. He huffed in annoyance.

"Hey, fella, give that here."

Harry took the small note from the bird's beak and stroked the soft feathers a few times. There was no name on the outside of the envelope, only a small flower imprinted on one corner. Curious, Harry tore it open and unfurled the short piece of parchment he found inside.

My Dear Harry,
If you are reading this then I am dead. I love you, always remember that.

The secret that I am about to tell you has, hopefully, followed me to the grave. However, you have the right to know the truth. You and Severus both.

The teenager's eyebrows raised at the written statement. What secret could possibly involve Professor Snape and who would send Harry a love note from beyond the grave in the first place? His green eyes flicked down and he read the signature at the bottom.

With Love,
Lily Evans Potter

The name was penned in beautiful font, the 'o' in Potter turned into a flower identical to the one on the envelope. Harry felt his legs give way beneath him and he found himself abruptly sitting on the faded carpet that covered his bedroom floor. He was watched by the large owl on the desk, its eyes unblinking. An audience to his madness, because only an insane person would believe for an instant that the letter was authentic.

He read the rest of the letter that could not possibly be from his mother, heart pounding wildly.

I lied to everyone and I am so sorry. I was afraid of their judgment and of what might happen to both of us. I hope that you might someday be able to understand my position and forgive me, sweetheart.

Harry's throat hurt and his eyes burned at these words.

There is no easy way to say what needs to be said. I guess all I can do is spell it out so that there can be no misunderstanding. Severus Snape is your father not James Potter. You were conceived under the power of a formidable love potion. I have obliviated Snape and I want you to know that we both decided this would be the best option. He wanted you to live under the protection of an Aura and the Potter name. James does not know, but, darling, he loves you so much. It would break his heart to find out the truth of your conception and I have decided to save us all the heartache of that revelation. Now that I am dead and have no say in the manner, I hope that you make the right decision on whether to tell your father - James - the truth or not. I am sorry to leave such a heavy burden on your young shoulders.

Harry sucked in a shaky breath and wiped away the tears streaming down his face before reading onward.

It was not planned. The potion was slipped into our drinks by some unknown person. I have still not discovered who did this, but to me it does not matter. You are a precious gift.

I love you so much and I am proud of the young man you will have become. I will always be with you and not even Death himself can keep me from watching over you, sweetheart.

There was a splash of magical text directly above the signature that moved along a line of the page. Harry hesitantly touched it and a strong feeling of love washed over him. He felt his mothers presence for a brief moment and then the line faded off the page.

Harry felt numb and simultaneously spilling over with emotions. He was still seated on the floor, letter held in nerveless fingers, when it suddenly dawned on the boy why a pair of unblinking golden eyes were following his every move. The patient owl was still seated on the desk, because Harry had closed the window. There was no way for the creature to escape.

"I'm sorry," he apologized to the bird.

He stood a bit unsteadily and wiped the dampness of tears from his cheeks with the sleeve of his shirt. Harry went to the window. As soon as it was propped open the blue-gray owl fled into the night with a grateful hoot. Before he could close it again a small brown ball of feathers shot past his arm. The boy turned just in time to see the tiny owl make a crash landing on his bed. The flapping wings tangled in the bedding.

"Where did you come from, little guy?" Harry asked.

He moved to aid the struggling bird. It was another unfamiliar owl and the second he got it free, Harry had to duck to avoid its desperate dash back outside. It was gone in a hyperactive flash of feathers.

A letter was in the mussed blanket and Harry reached for it cautiously, but it shot up into the air and took on a rather basic appearance of the human face. A howler! The blood drained from the teenager's face. The Dursley's were going to kill him if it interrupted their X-Factor marathon.

"Shh!" he whispered.

He knew the sound would be ineffective against the charmed letter.

"Dear, Harry," the letter began in an oddly familiar male voice.

Harry blinked in surprise. The howler wasn't...howling. Instead, it spoke in an even, soft voice.

"If you have received this then I am probably dead. I never wanted to leave you, but, Merlin forbid, that happens you have a right to know the truth that I have been keeping secret for far too long."

Harry looked over at Lily's note where he had laid it down on the windowsill. Then he placed the voice the howler was using. His father. Harry bit his lip. Not his father, James Potter.

The letter had paused for a second as if trying to figure out how to read itself with the most tact and dignity.

"I should probably tell Snape and your mother, but I am more cowardly than most people think me to be and I am leaving that decision to you, Harry. No one knows the truth except us and you can keep it that way should you wish."

Another long pause made Harry's eye begin to twitch. What was going on? He wondered.

"You're not my biological son, Harry," the voice emanating from the letter had turned solemn, "I found out pretty early on that I could never father a child, but your mother wanted one so badly. I'm not exactly proud of what I have done or how I went about it - there were several conditions at play," the howler huffed here, "I put a love potion in Lily's tea and made certain Severus Snape was there and received a similar dose. Nine months later you happened and I could not have loved you more if you had been my blood son. There was a memory altering addition to the potion and neither your mother or Snape know the truth of that night. I am sorry if I disappoint your trust with this revelation, but you are my son in every way that matters and I do not want to lie to you. Please, don't hate me. You are my son and I will always love you no matter what. I am sorry for any pain I have caused you and your mother. James Potter."

The howler fell back to the bed, limp and lifeless once more. Harry stared at it with wide, frightened eyes for a long moment. The noise had not drawn the Dursley's ire, but the boy felt ready to lose it and that might garner him a few days without food. He wanted to scream and yell, kick the walls and cry harder. James Potter had been a fraud.

Should he believe these mysterious messages of unknown origin? He shook his head. None of it could be true. It must be a particularly clever and cruel prank.

"Hedwig, I could use you right about now," Harry muttered to his absent snowy owl.

Downstairs a commotion drew Harry's thoughts away from all he had just learned.

"Freak! Get down here, Freak!" Vernon Dursley's bellow echoed through the house.

The boy jumped in surprise. So they had heard after all. Harry steeled himself for the worst and exited his room, cautiously starting down the stairs.

"You will never again refer to my child as a 'freak' again or I shall hex you to death with great pleasure. Are we clear, muggle?"

Harry froze with one foot raised above a step. Severus Snape, his dad, was not only in the house, but had just threatened Uncle Vernon. The letters might not be pranks after all, Harry thought with growing trepidation.

All these thoughts disappeared a second later when the boy's presence was noticed by the people below. He forced his shaking legs to carry him forward and down. He could not look at Snape, instead he nodded and murmured a greeting to the set of long, black robes.

"Harry, you are to leave this residence immediately and come with me. Gather a few things - only what you can easily carry," Snape ordered in a hard voice.

The boy turned and took the stairs three at a time, not daring to even acknowledge the furious Vernon or sputtering Petunia. Once inside his bedroom he moved on automatic and filled his trunk with every precious item he had in the room, finishing by placing the dubious letter from Lily and the howler from James on top before he closed the lid tightly. Harry still refused to believe they were authentic messages from long dead parents, but a tiny part of himself wished they were true. Contact from the people he had only dreamed about for so many years. Bad news was still news in his book.

The teenager took one last look at Dudley's spare bedroom and then left, closing the door behind him. He refused to look at the many locks lining the door frame and instead kept his gaze stuck to the carpeted floor as he once again descended the staircase.

Severus was standing in the same spot, but Harry noticed that his wand was out. The boy glanced at his family and only then did he feel the silence. The Duresleys were standing in the hall way and sharing looks of horror. Their mouths were spelled shut and a silencing charm kept their groans, grunts and squeals of protest mute. Harry found himself smiling in the face of their misery. So many times he had wanted to do the same thing to them. He felt slightly vindicated and then he remembered Snape standing at his shoulder.

"Do you have all your things?" the teacher asked.

The man motioned toward the trunk Harry had pulled down the stairs. The boy nodded.

"Yes, sir."

"Excellent. We are going to Hogwarts, I will apparate us to the edge of the grounds," the potions master announced as if having just decided, "take my hand."

The young wizard reached out hesitantly toward the man who might be his father and was oddly reassured by the man's tight grip. Together they disappeared with a loud, resounding crack of displaced air.

* * *

Severus Snape clutched the letter from Lily in his hand, the nails leaving crescent shaped grooves in the paper. How could she have kept something so personal a secret from him? The man wondered darkly. His own child had been left alone and without parents by her selfish desire to keep James - bloody - Potter from being hurt by her supposed infidelity. Severus fumed, his dark eyes glittering with disgust, hatred and regret. He had alienated and humiliated his own son - not that he had known that at the time, but there was noway to go back now. He could not expect Harry to accept him now.

Severus bowed his head, his long dark locks hiding his pained expression. The floo came to life in an explosion of green flames. Albus Dumbledore appeared in the fireplace and walked into the room, shaking gray dust from his robes.

"You wanted to see me, Severus?" the old man asked, his mouth filling into a thin line.

"Yes, Headmaster."

Snape gathered his thoughts together. He tried to choose his words tactfully, but there was little room for that if he remained honest about the situation.

"Harry Potter is not Jame's son."

There is was said. Dumbledore's brow wrinkled in surprised confusion.

"I beg your pardon?" surely there was some mistake.

"I am the boy's biological father," Severus said softly, the admittance still disturbing to his own ears, "it's true."

The air between them fell silent. The potion master held up the crumpled proof in his hand. Dumbledore's blue gaze flicked to the identifying flower mark on the corner of the letter and he paled.

"Where is the boy now?" the Headmaster asked as he correctly guessed that Severus had already taken Harry away from the Dursley's.

A sneer broke out across the professor's face.

"Those muggles," he spat out the word, "were not suitable guardians or my son. He is safe in my quarters for the time being."

Dumbledore stroked his long white beard thoughtfully as he began to formulate a diplomatic response to the situation. He began to pace, Severus following his movements with dark eyes.

"Are you certain of the boy's lineage?" the Headmaster asked.

"Yes. Without a doubt." Severus responded, meeting the hard blue gaze.

"Since it is obviously beyond your ability to wait until a more godly hour it falls upon me to wake the proper authorities and procure an official statement of guardianship. Otherwise young Harry's presence here might be construed as kidnapping," there was a slight admonishment in the tone.

The potion teacher bowed his head in shame at the recognition that he really had acted rashly. Dumbledore turned to leave, but stopped after passing the Slytherin.

"Severus, are you certain that what you have done is in the best interest of the boy?" the old man asked over his shoulder, his half-moon frames glinting in the candle light of the room.

"He is my son. He belongs with me and I will protect him," Snape responded with an iron tone, his chin thrust forward stubbornly.

"So be it."

The bearded wizard left without another word and the room fell into a cold, stony silence.

"He belongs with me," the man repeated in a muted whispered, a note of uncertainty creeping into his voice.

* * *

CHAPTER TWO 10:00 p.m.

* * *

Harry wandered around Severus Snape's personal quarters, tucked away in a corner of the dungeons at Hogwarts. He felt a bit like a kid walking through a museum after hours. He felt a thrill with each new or strange artifact he discovered on the tables and shelves. The teenage boy could not help but make up fantastical histories for even the most mundane objects.

It was obvious to him that the silver spoon on the chipped tea saucer had to of been used in the grisly murder of a former student. Now Snape used it to stir honey or sugar into his evening drink.

"The bastard!" Harry murmured aloud, eyebrows scrunching together.

He moved on, his attention drawn to a particularly bad smelling vial of blue potion. The ruddy Slytherin really did use his students as potions ingredients. His green eyes widened as looked at the container, his imagination taking over.

"So, that's what he's done with you aye?" Harry asked the vial sadly.

He moved on and next he spied an old book laying open on it's front, the frayed spine exposed. A book full of secrets concerning the Dark Arts, no doubt. Harry gulped. It would probably come to life and try to eat him if he disturbed it. Harry shuddered and quickly moved on in his tour of the main living room of the quarters. He was afraid to venture down the hall or into the other rooms.

The teenager glanced up at a clock on the wall and frowned. His birthday was almost over and no one had so much as mentioned it. He had gotten used to the notes and food his best friends usually sent. Harry kicked a nearby chair leg with his shoe, angry at himself for caring so much. Still, he couldn't help it and a dark cloud of depression settled over him. He sat down with a heavy sigh.

The chair had probably been transfigured from something thoroughly awful. Harry shifted uncomfortably, but lacked the motivation to move. Plus, he was tired and he knew all the imaginative stories were of his own making. Even as he thought this a tiny part of his mind said, still the chair feels kinda slimy. Harry forced himself not to gag or move from the chair.

"Comfortable?"

Harry whipped his head around as Snape entered the room silently. The boy stood nervously, irrationally worried that the teacher would object to him having sat down on the chair in the first place.

"Sure, yeah, I guess," he stammered in response.

"Would you like something to drink?"

Harry's gaze flicked to the tea saucer and that spoon then back to the professor. He swallowed hard.

"N-no, sir."

Snape regarded the boy sternly, expression unreadable.

"Something to eat perhaps? You are insufferably skinny Po - Harry," The man corrected himself as he forced the customary sting out of his voice.

Harry wanted to nod an affirmative, but he knew better that that. Eating after eight was strictly for 'bad children' and his Aunt never let him forget that. He didn't want his first night with Snape to start off on the wrong foot.

"No, sir."

His stomach grumbled loudly.

"Food it is," the professor said.

The teacher snapped his fingers and a few moment later a platter with two heaping plates o food appeared. Steam spiraled into the room and the smell of potatoes, gravy and choice slices of turkey made Harry's mouth water and his stomach ache.

"I'm not sure I can eat it all," Harry admitted as they each took a plate and sat down.

Snape sent him a long look. "Your Weasley friend could easily finish both our meals and more, so, I know you are capable." A sudden question entered the obsidian eyes. "Are you allergic?"

Harry shook his head and put his fork in the mashed potatoes, turning it as he thought. The vegetable was heavy and rich with starch so he would probably feel a dull ache after eating even a small amount of it, maybe he should choose the meat. Being starved during the summer always made it difficult for him to return to full serving sizes.

"You did not answer my question," the teacher prompted.

"No, sir. Not allergic...just not...use to it," he replied.

Shame washed over him and he felt a blush burn his face and neck. He refused to look over at Snape. The black haired man spent a moment contemplating what 'it' could possibly mean. Harry was not used to turkey? Potatoes? Hot food? Meals in general? The last thoughts sparked feelings of frustration in the man.

"Would you prefer something else then?" the hook-nosed man asked, forcing himself not to add 'your highness Mr. Potter' to the end of his question. He really needed to work on readjusting how he thought about the boy - his son.

"No!" Harry blurted, he shoved a forkful of potatoes into his mouth to prove it.

Snape looked unconvinced. "It is alright if you can't eat it all, Harry," the man coached himself to use a softer voice on the child, "it is late and I would not expect you to be too hungry unless you were starving - in which case those muggles wouldn't wake tomorrow," he finished in a growl.

Harry's eyes widened in real fear. Would his professor really kill his Aunt and Uncle over something so unimportant as a meal? The boy shoveled more food into his mouth, trying to hide the tremor in his hand.

"They didn't starve me," Harry lied after he swallowed.

Snape nodded approvingly. "Good."

They ate in silence after that for a few minutes until Harry sat his fork down with an unexpectedly loud clang as it hit the plate. More than half of the food still remained, but the teenager knew that if he ate any more then he might vomit and he refused to consider what punishment that might garner him.

Severus pushed his own plate away and promptly all the dishes disappeared.

"I thought the house elves get the summer months to spend away from the castle - with family or something?" Harry said after he remembered Hermione's praise over the mile stone in elf rights.

"One chose to stay behind although it is not unusual for several dozen to be in the castle at any given time. The one we have with us tonight is called Dobby, I believe," the professor responded dully, disinterested in the conversation.

A rush of second year memories caught Harry off guard and he swallowed the vomit that burned its way up his throat.

"Are you well?" Snape asked, regarding him carefully.

Harry stood abruptly. "May I use the loo?"

"What a ridiculous question, of course you may. First door on the left," the teacher directed with a wave of his hand.

The teenage wizard hurried out of the room, down the small hallway and into the bathroom. He placed a privacy spell on the door once he had closed it behind him. He didn't want to give Snape a reason to be upset with him and he knew from long experience with the Durselys that grown ups hated it when children got sick. Or maybe it was just him. They hated it when he got sick.

Harry leaned over the sink, both arms shaking as his nausea grew worse until he threw up several times in a row. He ran the water, rinsing out his mouth. He vomited again and repeated the process. After several long minutes of this he had emptied the contents of his stomach and felt only slightly better, but exhausted. His muscles hurt when he pulled away from the sink to study his reflection.

One glance in the mirror told him that he looked like Ron after a bad Quidditch practice. Still, there was no helping it, he had to go back out there and face his professor. Harry steeled his nerves when he thought about coming face to face with the potion master again and he left the bathroom at a quick pace, head down.

Severus watched him reenter the room. "You look awful."

Harry raised an eyebrow and glanced up with a half-smirk. "Gee, thanks."

"It is nearing eleven o'clock and I assume you are tired. Please, make yourself at home in my room."

Harry felt confused. "You're going to sleep out here?" he asked doubtfully.

"I do not intend to sleep at all," the man responded with casual disdain.

Harry turned to find the bedroom deciding that he really was quite tired, but he stopped as a sudden question popped into his head.

"Wait a minute, who sent the owls?" the boy asked.

"Gringotts. Lily had left special instructions nearly fifteen years ago. Both letters were to be sent late this evening by owl. The origin of the letter and its authentication were the first thing I checked."

Harry bit his lip, brow furrowed. They had been real. James and Lily had kept such terrible secrets from each other, from their friends. A tiny piece of Harry's hear broke knowing that the loving and stable Potter family he had always pictured in his mind had been nothing more than a fantasy. No more real that the story he had created about the spoon and the vial. Figments.

"Don't you need your things?" Severus pointed to a corner where Harry's trunk had been stashed. "Clothes at least?"

Harry paled, his stomach flipping. The oversized cast offs of Dudley's had meant nothing to him and he had not even bothered with the clothes. The things he normally were during the school year were still stored at the Weasleys, along with Hedwig and his books so that the Dursley's couldn't destroy them in a fit of anger.

"I haven't got any, sir," the boy admitted.

"No clothing?" Snape didn't understand.

"Well, I do, but I couldn't bring them," Harry tried to explain, but it came out wrong.

"Was there a troll stopping you?" the teacher asked, exasperated.

Harry hung his head, tired and not ready to face the man's cold taunts. "No, sir."

If it had been any other night Snape would have scowled and forced a coherent response fro the boy.

"Very well, we can re-size a pair o my own sleep wear," he said instead in a reasonable tone.

Harry swallowed. His stomach felt sick again at the idea of using Snape's clothing. How could he accept such a personal thing, what if he inadvertently ruined them or something? He gulped in a breath and tried to quiet his nerves.

"No need, sir. Really, I'm fine in this for tonight and then tomorrow I can pick up some spares from the Weasleys."

"Do your Aunt and Uncle let you spend so much time with your little Gryffindor friends?" Snape looked disturbed, but not at all surprised by the idea.

"No!" Harry hurried to reassure the man. "I keep my things there during the summer so that they aren't damaged."

He had said too much.

"I am beginning to wonder if you were struck with a Confundus charm," the potion master said with genuine bewilderment.

Harry sighed heavily and put a hand over his roiling belly. The teenager was too exhausted to deal with a confrontation. He wanted to be left alone.

"There are a lot of things you don't know about me...sir" he added the last in hopes of staving off any verbal abuse.

"I will find them out. It is my duty now that I am your father," the Slytherin announced coldly.

"Duty?" Harry's green eyes flashed with anger.

Great. That was all he represented to the slimy git? A burden and a duty? Harry wanted to punch something. Hard. After how uncharacteristically amiable the man had been towards him in the past hour, Harry thought that he might have gained a mentor. A father figure. Now he knew better.

Snape held up a hand. "I admit that was poorly worded. What I meant to say was that you are my priority now. Keeping you safe is my job and I want to get to know you as my son."

The teenager refused to acknowledge the very humane pleading in the man's words. He could tell Snape was serious about it and that didn't help him feel any calmer or less angry. Why should the man care now? Harry wondered.

"Now that I'm your son I matter? But not before, right?" Harry asked bitterly.

Everyone had an agenda. The potion master ran a hand through his oily black hair. He had held onto this secret for too long and since this night did not seem to keep secrets well, he told the truth.

"You have always been important to me. You have her eyes, Harry. The woman I loved - will always love - gave birth to you and that makes you precious to me."

The young wizard's anger dampened at the real pain he saw on the Snape's face. His father's face, he corrected himself.

"I have been protecting you for years. Hiding in the shadows, not wanting praise or recognition or..." he paused a beat, "I only cared that you were alive and safe. Being a spy didn't allow me the priviledge of protecting you openly. I had to put on a show for the Dark Lord and his followers and in the end I guess I even fooled myself."

Harry felt deflated, his anger now completely gone, and now he felt only empathy towards the raven haired Slytherin. They were both merely pawns, forced into their respective roles no matter how uncomfortable or unbearable. He could read it all over Snape's face. Harry took a shaky breath. If a death eater could be honest then he could too.

"Sir, I, um." This was harder than he thought possible. "I never told a teacher before, but the Dursleys hurt me. They hit me, locked me under the stairs when I disobeyed and s-starved me."

Snape flinched as if he had been physically struck. He moved towards the boy and Harry hoped he hadn't muddled up his first real confession. It felt like he had. Now that he had began the flood of words just kept coming, spilling past his lips unbidden.

"They called me a freak and burned my books after first year - that's why I keep them at Ron's now. They never loved me and they never wanted me." It was almost liberating to say it aloud.

The teacher came to stand in front of Harry and put both hands on the boy's shoulders. Harry shifted, uncomfortable under the touch.

"I am so sorry, Harry," Snape said softly.

Harry took a step back an apology had been the last thing he had expected. Disbelief or anger would have seemed less strange to him. Snape continued.

"I knew Petunia's view on magical people from the beginning and I should have checked up on you better. I thought you were safest there, because of the blood wards, but if I had known..." his voice broke and trailed off.

"It's okay. I mean, it wasn't pleasant, but I turned out alright." Harry tried to encourage the man. It was too disconcerting to see the cold black eyes turn warm and sad.

"You were horrifically abused by those you should have been able to trust the most. Betrayed by your own guardians. This is not alright and the moment your papers are in order I intend to pay your Aunt and Uncle another visit."

Harry shuddered at the almost animal light that shone in the man's eyes as he said those angry words. Then he was gripped with a sudden fear.

"Papers?" the boy heard himself ask.

Snape nodded and pulled away from the young wizard. The professor began to pace across the room much as Dumbledore had done nearly an hour before.

"As we speak the Headmaster is seeing to it that I am placed as your legal, biological guardian - it is similar to an adoption, but much easier to obtain," he explained at the boy's perplexed look.

Harry wondered if he was going to faint, he certainly felt like it. Distantly he heard the clock strike eleven and all he could think was that his birthday wish had come true. Every birthday wish for the past fourteen years. He had a dad, a family.

* * *
CHAPTER THREE: 11:00 p.m.
* * *

Snape had been more than a little disturbed by what he had learned about his son's home life. Moments before he had been broadsided by a so many incongruous feelings. He had known Pentunia's hatred for magical people, but he had not thought it would lead to neglect and child abuse. Albus must have been aware, he realized, his stomach twisting into knots. A cold shiver ran down his spine.

Harry Snape - the name felt off, but the potion master had to get used to it sooner or later - looked exhausted.

"Lets get you something to sleep in," Severus said.

The boy followed his father to the bedroom, which held dark wooden furniture and a thoroughly ordinary bed and closet, lit by candles that came to life when they entered the room.

"Here, this will do nicely." The man held up a black set of cotton sweats. "Put these on and then I will re-size them for you."

Harry waited until the man had left the room before he stripped out of his jeans and t-shirt. The sleep wear was surprisingly comfortable and he played with the shirt cuffs, rubbing the soft material between his thumb and forefinger.

"I'm done," he called out and shifted awkwardly.

Severus returned and went to work altering the clothes. One leg, the other, the waist and then the left arm. Before the man could finish with the right arm they were interrupted by the floo activating.

"Albus," Severus whispered.

Harry felt like his heart might explode at that single soft word. If the Headmaster had returned with the papers....

"Harry!" Ron's voice shouted.

"Harry, are you here?" Hermione called.

Snape's jaw fell open and then it closed with an audible clack, his face turning an angry shade of pink.

"Gryffindors!" he growled between clenched teeth.

He strode out of the room with Harry tailing him. The boy's one long sleeve flopping at this side.

"There you are!" Hermione ran past the professor and hugged Harry tight.

Ron glared at the Slytherin head of house as he came to join his friends. Snape was livid, but trying his very best not to show it. If he lost control it would certainly not endear himself to Harry. Calm. He had to remain calm.

"Who invited you to invade my quarters?" the angry man asked his tone carefully controlled and monotone.

Ron positioned himself between his best friends and the professor. The redhead looked ready to begin a duel right then and there. Gryffindors! Severus thought with disgust.

"My dad told me everything," Ron said with a nasty snarl in his tone.

"How, pray tell, does Arthur Weasley presume to know anything about this situation?" Snape asked.

The floo came to life again and spit out the Weasley patriarch in a burst of green. Snape sniffed the air in disdain at yet another redhead invading his home-away-from-home.

"Speak of the devil," the potion master employed the muggle phrase dryly. He folded his arms over his chest.

Arthur bowed his head and removed his hat, twisting it nervously in his hands. He knew just how shaky the ground was between his child and the teacher even if Ron pretended not to.

"Professor Snape, I do apologize. The children were given strict instructions not to come here or interfere in any way."

Ron gulped and Hermione's grip on Harry tightened.

"Not strict enough apparently," Snape pointed out.

"Yes. Yes, indeed." Arthur glared at his son. "For which they will be punished, I assure you, Professor."

The Slytherin looked dissatisfied.

"We're not going anywhere without Harry, dad," Ron said, adopting a brave face.

If they were going to be in trouble either way then the young redhead was not going to give in that easily. He refused to look at his father, the disappointment he would find there would no doubt break his resolve. Instead he glared at Snape, jaw squared mulishly.

"Ron's right," Hermione said. She hated conflict, but she loved her friends more. "You don't know how badly those Dursleys treated Harry. We wont let him be taken in by worse then them and he is a death eater," she reasoned with a brief motion towards Snape.

Harry felt a warmth fill him at his friends misplaced loyalty. It made his eyes itch with tears of gratitude, but he knew they truly did not understand the situation. How could they? Even he did not fully understand. Harry made a decision then and pushed his friends gently away and took a step towards Snape - his father.

"I don't know what you heard or were told," he began, eyes downcast, "but Snape is not kidnapping me. He hasn't hurt me and he isn't going to. I'll be staying with him for a while, but it is fine. I chose to." It was only a small lie.

The Boy-Who-Lived barely knew anything good about the potion master and had seen little to support his bold claim. Maybe it was hope talking. He wanted his father to be a kind man, a trustworthy man. The kind of man that James Potter couldn't be. Harry flinched internally.

"But Dumbledore said he was adopting you. Do you mean that you agreed? Why?" Ron asked his voice squeaking in disbelief.

"Not exactly," Harry hedged around the question, "hold on, where did you hear Dumbledore say that?"

Ron looked to his father who blushed a hair clashing shade of red.

"I was working late at the ministry," Arthur said sheepishly.

"So, you ran home to tell your impressionable, hormone driven spawn and his girlfriend?" Severus asked icily.

"No!" Arthur amended hurriedly, "I might have let something slip out during dinner."

"And Mrs. Granger?"

"I was staying over with Ginny," Hermione volunteered the information.

"Naturally you thought that barging into my quarters at Hogwarts in the middle of the night was the correct response to this information? Uninvited? My protection wards could have killed you."

The potion master refused to admit to himself that he had reacted in an almost identical manner to Lily's letter two hours before. Had it really only been two hours, the man thought wearily. It felt more like two days.

"Of course we came at once," Hermione replied, offended, "we're -."

"Gryffindors?"

" -His friends," the witch finished viciously.

"Expelled friends, perhaps," Snape growled.

"Dad, no!"

Everyone in the room froze at Harry's horrified cry. They turned to face the now embarrassed boy. He had called Snape his dad. Dad. He felt mortified.

"Um, Harry, what did you just say?" Ron asked even as he hoped he had misheard.

Severus was standing stalk still, terrified of the weight of responsibility he had felt crashing around his shoulders with one desperately shouted word.

"N-nothing," Harry stammered, his gut clenching painfully as he fought through a wave of anxiety.

"You called him dad," Hermione sounded puzzled.

The Boy-Who-Lived wanted to crawl into bed, fall asleep and wake up to find this all had been a dreadful dream. He didn't need a dad, he had taken care of himself for his entire life. He wanted everyone to just go away and leave him alone.

"I don't think they deserve to be punished, sir," Harry ignored his friends and focused on the still stunned Snape, "they were only doing what comes naturally to us Gryffindors. They were being good friends. That's all."

Severus nodded slowly, his features retreating into a blank expression. "Well, reasoned."

"A compliment from Snape. Blimey, I really have lost it."

Ron didn't seem to realize that he had spoken aloud. Hermione socked him in the shoulder and the redhead blinked rapidly.

"Ow." He rubbed his shoulder.

"Look, guys, I'm touched that you wanted to make sure that I was alright and I am." Harry looked them both in the eye, meeting their gazes steadily. "The professor has been decent to me and, honestly, all I want at this point is a few hours of sleep. Can we leave this until morning, please?"

Harry felt almost ready to collapse and fall asleep wherever he fell. The boy rocked unsteadily on his feet, eyelids fighting to stay open. The drama was seriously draining him and he wanted to go lay down before he fell down. Ron and Hermione exchanged a look and both teenagers nodded silently.

"Excellent."

Snape clasped his hands together, the abrupt sound startling Harry back into momentary wakefulness. Arthur herded his son and Hermione to the fireplace where they disappeared after a long moment - their soulful eyes still watching Harry. The redheaded man took up the position, but paused before throwing down the floo powder.

"Harry, remember that you can always come to myself or Molly about anything," then he smiled apologetically at Snape, "and I really am sorry, professor, about all of this."

Severus waved the man's words away dismissively and Arthur left. Harry stared at the empty floo for a very long minute that seemed to stretch on forever.

"I should have asked them to bring me some clothes," was all the boy could think to say.

His father chuckled dryly. "You are obviously exhausted. To bed with you."

A quick spell fixed the sweat shirts right arm.

"Will we live here forever? Because I can't sleep in your room every night. You'll need to rest sometime," Harry pointed out around a gaping yawn.

"We are only here for tonight. After the paperwork is complete I will be able to construct blood wards around my home - our home - at Spinner's End."

Harry yawned again, his jaw popping. "Oh."

Snape took the boy's elbow and gently lead him to the bedroom where he proceeded to tuck the child into bed. For a brief, shinning moment the potion master thought he might actually be a good father, but the doubts and regrets crept back into his thoughts like dark shadows.

Harry was asleep and snoring lightly before Snape could even close the door. The man retreated to the main living area and found himself, quite unexpectedly, standing over his son's school trunk. He could not help but wonder what the boy had packed if there were no clothes or other personal hygiene items. What did his son treasure above everything else? He reached forward and unlocked the truck with a flick of his wand.

"It's just research," he reasoned with himself aloud.

He opened the lid.

* * *

Harry struggled against the blankets in his sleep, his arms and legs thrashing fitfully under the thick covers.

"Cedric," he mumbled, brow furrowing.

"Kill the spare."

Green light assaulted red, splashes of color breaking off and falling to the ground as their wands canceled each other out. Harry watched in horrified fascination as phantom copies of his parents were spit out of Voldemort's wand.

They floated to Harry's side.

"I love you, sweetheart, but I've lied to you," his mother said, her face pinched by sadness. Harry had to look away.

"I never meant to hurt anyone, but I lied, Harry. Son, I am not your father."

Harry rolled out of the way of Voldemort's killing curse, breaking the connection.

"How could you do that?" Harry shouted at his parents, even as their sad ghosts faded away and he was left alone in a suddenly empty graveyard. "Why!?" He shouted.

Harry jerked awake, his breathing fast and irregular. He forced himself to take several deep, calming breaths. The boy hoped that he hadn't screamed. The Dursley's hated it when he woke them. He waited tensely in the darkness and when nothing happened felt more confused than relieved.

He fumbled for his wand on the night stand, but his searching fingers found only air. Panic ripped him and he pushed back the blankets. Then the night came flooding back to him with a rush of memories. Snape, the letters, Ron and Hermione. Harry gave a sigh of relief and settled back into bed. He felt almost giddy knowing no one was going to yell at him for nightmares out of his control. Snape would have done so already if he intended to. For the first time Harry felt truly thankful for Severus Snape.

Rolling over onto his side he returned to sleep.

* * *
CHAPTER FOUR 12:00 p.m.
* * *

Snape sat numbly and stared at the empty fireplace. He wasn't really looking at it, but his empty gaze kept returning there. He held a glass of fire whiskey in one hand and the howler from James Potter in the other. He felt distant and empty, like the world had retreated in the face of reality. All of the things he had felt passion or hate for were gone in that moment.

The howler had spoken calmly, solemnly to him and explained in the most 'James Potter' way how much he was loved. Snape knew that Harry must have felt compelled to keep his "father's" secret, but it irritated the man or it would have if he could feel anything at all. The fire whiskey had worked its magic quickly.

The sheer magnitude of the lies spun by the Potters astounded him. They had seemed like the perfect magical couple on the outside, creating a life and a family together. He pondered the memories he had of them and drank.

Soon the head of Slytherin house was dead to the world in a haze of alcohol fueled dreams. The cup held loosely in his hand, balanced on the arm of the chair.

* * *

Harry sat up in bed, wiping sleep and a few drying tears from his eyes. He had dreamed of his friends finding out about the drugged drinks and Lily's secret. The boy felt shaken by what he had seen, the nightmare faces superimposed over his friends. He was certain that Ron and Hermione would react better than their doppelgangers had in his mind, but he was still disturbed.

He swung his feet out over the floor and tried to decide if it was really worth getting up yet. The bed was warm and comfortable, but he also knew that if he stayed in it he would have another nightmare. Decision made he stood on the cool stone floor and padded out of the bedroom.

To his relief Snape was snoring - he sounded like a muggle chainsaw - and would obviously not be waking up anytime soon. The boy stood in the middle of the darkened, strange quarters at a loss.

"Now what?" he asked the lethal spoon with a sigh of derision.

The spoon did not respond.

Then Harry saw a familiar envelope next to his father's arm. The howler from James Potter. The boy felt as if the air had gone suddenly cold and he hugged himself tight, biting his lip.

He couldn't find it in himself to feel surprise or anger at the breach of privacy. Somewhere in the back of his mind he was even slightly relieved. Now they could move forward on the same page. Still, this made the man a complete tosser for going through the locked trunk.

No doubt Snape had found the shard of broken glass and invisibility cloak as well. James invisibility cloak. Harry wanted to pull his hair out and scream at the confused whirlwind of emotions he felt, but settled on exhaling roughly.

The young wizard needed to get out of the room, away from the memories of his parents that he had created and away from the snoring man, his father, who had so completely violated his trust.

Harry walked over to the trunk and opened it and he quietly pulled out the Maurader's Map he had shoved in a corner under a picture he had drawn of Hedwig. He hoped Snape hadn't recognized it as the blank parchment that had insulted him in third year.

Once outside of the quarters, Harry pulled out his wand.

"Lumos," he mumbled.

The tip of his wand burst to life and the boy tapped the folded parchment.

"I solemnly swear that I am up to no good." Saying that had always made him feel closer to his father, but this time it made his stomach flutter with nerves.

The map came to life with moving ink bleeding onto the page. Harry had to unfold it and turn it a few times before he found his name and a pair of footprints. Snape hadn't moved from his chair.

The boy was curious about what the rest of the castle looked like without hundreds of students, teachers or elves there to fill Hogwarts. Would the Great Hall serve a single occupant? For a brief moment Harry wished Hermione was there with him sharing her immense knowledge of the castle and everything in it. Curiosity got the better of him and he started walking towards the staircase - at least he hoped he was going the right direction. He had only ever really been down here for potions class and that one time in second year when he and Ron had snuck into the Slytherin common room.

The boy burst out into amused giggles as he remembered Hermione transformed into a giant, black cat. It had been terrifying at the time, but now years later he could see the humor in it. Hermione still had a chip on her shoulder over the mistake and she always regarded polyjuice potion suspiciously after that as though the potion itself had conspired against them.

Harry eventually found the staircase after a few mistaken turns and made his way to the ground floor. The castle was entirely silent and the young wizard wondered if even Peeves, the resident poltergeist, took a holiday during the summer months or if the energy tolpa was asleep deep in the school.

The boy found his way to the Great Hall and slipped inside. He instantly felt dwarfed by the large room. No house flags hung above the tables and the roof was no longer spelled to reflect the night sky. Only cold stone met the boy's gaze when he looked upwards. It felt wrong. Impersonal in a way that no school ever should. Hogwarts was barren of her children and a sense of mourning followed Harry back out into the corridor. He glanced down at the map and was happy to see that Snape had not moved from his chair, presumably still fast asleep.

A sudden thought occurred to the boy and he flipped the map over, thumbing through the folds until he saw the room he wanted. He started walking towards a side staircase. Harry intended on being back in bed before Snape had time to notice that he had gone. He skipped down the winding stairs and ducked through a small opening he would have never noticed if not for the map.

"Dobby, you here?" Harry asked, blinking into the shadowy alcove.

There was a rustling in the far corner.

"Lumos maxiums," he whispered and suddenly the room flooded with light.

Dobby sheltered his eyes with one hand as he blinked up at the wizard in hurt confusion. Harry felt a bit bad about waking the elf - he could see the mussed bed made of clothes and a pile of socks next to the far wall. It had never occurred to the boy that Dobby slept.

"Dobby be doing something wrong?" the elf asked innocently, still waking up.

Harry dimmed the blinding light at the tip of his wand to a manigable level.

"Sorry, Dobby. I just wanted to talk to you. You didn't do anything wrong," he paused, "I can leave," he added.

The short elf ran forward and hugged the teenager's knees tightly, giant ears flopped against the cotton.

"Dobby was not knowing you were Harry Potter. Dobby is sorry. Forgive Dobby?"

Harry's guilt tripled. "You don't need to be sorry. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to wake you up, but I didn't know you were sleeping."

"Is Harry Potter needing something?" Dobby asked, looking up at the wizard with wide questioning eyes.

The Boy-Who-Lived gently pried the elf's long, spindly fingers from his leg and crouched down so that he was eye level with the creature. The lit wand was held between them, casting strange shadows across their faces.

"I was wondering if we could maybe have a biscuit and talk."

The elf's eyes shone with unshed tears and he snapped his fingers. A tray of chocolate biscuits appeared into thin air beside them.

"Dobby would be honored," the elf bowed his head, making Harry feel even more uncomfortable, but also touched at the same time. It was a mixture of feelings he always had around the creature.

The boy sat on the floor cross-legged and Dobby followed suit adopting a similar posture. His long sack shirt fell into a puddle around him. Harry took a deep breath and then told the magical being everything that had happened to him that night.

Getting Lily's letter from the blue-gray Gringott's owl.

The howler from James that didn't howl, but instead told a sad tale of misplaced priorities and betrayal.

Snape's arrival at the Dursley's and the apparition that followed.

The spoon's dark tale.

Dinner and being sick afterward.

Finding out that Snape had been protecting him all along, all those years.

Then how Harry had finally told the teacher about the Dursley's and how they treated him.

Then the dream and his night wanderings around the castle.

It was the most cathartic talk he'd ever had in his life. Harry sat back as he brushed crumbs from the last biscuit off his shirt - no, Snape's shirt - he corrected himself. He felt lighter after having shared the night's events. He smiled brightly over at the creature.

"You are a really great listener," he said in compliment.

Dobby grinned. "Dobby thanks Harry Potter for sharing his secrets."

Harry chuckled, the sound almost merry. "Yes. Tonight is a night for secrets, lies and the truth being found out."

The elf pushed himself up off the floor and padded over to his bed on bare feet.

"Dobby has something for Harry Potter."

There was some rustling, a few clanking sounds of glass-on-glass and then Dobby returned to Harry with a large green vial held in both hands.

"For you."

Harry took the offered vial and sniffed it cautiously. It smelled like bubble gum and zucchini bread. He made a face and set it down on the flagstone floor.

"Thanks?" he wasn't really sure if he should be.

Dobby pointed to the container. "Potion for making Dobby not feel sick."

The boy's eyes widened. "For me? Dobby you don't have to do that. What about you?" Harry asked, concerned.

A mischievous light danced in the elves eyes. "Dobby is having as many potions as he wants." He winked and put an index finger to his sealed lips.

Harry laughed. "Crafty little thing, aren't you?" he asked with approval.

Dobby nodded enthusiastically. The teenage wizard stood to his feet and placed the vial in one of the pockets in his sweat pants.

"Thanks, Dobby. For everything. I think I better be getting back though."

Harry glanced at Snape's name on the map and blew out a breath when he saw that it still hadn't moved from its place in the dungeons. He knew better than to press his luck by staying out any longer. He said goodbye to the elf and started back up the small staircase to the ground floor.

He passed suits of armor, statues and moving pictures, but he didn't pause to look at any of them. After having shared his story with the Hogwarts house elf he was beginning to feel sleepy again and all he wanted to do was crawl into the potion master's bed and fall into a dreamless sleep.

He supposed that was a weird thing to want. Yesterday morning he had been cursing under his breath and grumbling about the slimy it of a teacher while he moved his Aunt's lawn. Now, well, now everything was different. He would never have to mow the lawn ever again and Snape was no longer just a teacher. Harry approached the stairs that lead to the dungeons and began the descent. He had a dad.

This was the first night with his father and he was already sneaking out. Harry grinned. Blood relation or not James Potter would be proud. A thought suddenly occurred to the boy. If no one knew then that meant Remus Lupin and Sirius Black had no idea. The boy bit his lip. What if they tried to stop him from being Harry's legal guardian? The boy tried not to think about it.

He couldn't go back to the Durlseys.

He reached the sleeping man's quarters and Harry replaced the map in the trunk after a quick "mischief managed" and then he tip toed to the bedroom. The boy was asleep as soon as his messy black hair hit the pillows. His sleep was much calmer after exorcising the emotions.

In the living room Snape twitched in his sleep, assailed by dark creatures that only nightmares could host.

* * *
CHAPTER FIVE 1:00 a.m.
* * *

Albus Dumbledore approached the floor in the Minister of Magic's personal office. The man had left first while he mumbled tiredly about a worried wife at home before he disappeared. It had been a very long night for them both, but Albus felt certain he had dealt with everything in the proper manner.

Of course, he had known about Harry's rather neglected life with the Dursley's, but he had made certain they never permanently harmed the boy. He had reasoned that no family was perfect - some of his students dealt with home lives much more dangerous than Harry Potter's. The Headmaster had needed to make certain the boy survived and if a few years of tough knocks was the payment then he found that perfectly acceptable.

Tonight, however, had changed the stakes. He could no longer count on Severus Snape to spy in Voldemort's circle of death eaters. The potion master had only ever agreed in the first place so that he could help protect the boy. Albus sighed heavily. How could Lily have been so irresponsible? The witch had always seemed bright and mature.

The headmaster held the scroll of signed consent forms in one hand, his grip tight enough to leave indents on the papers. At least they would keep Severus from taking the boy and disappearing. Albus had been able to work in a few conditions thanks to the Minister's rather weak nerves. The official would rather any fall out or blame land squarely on the Headmaster's shoulders. A nice turn around indeed.

Albus disappeared in a rush of green flames and smoke.

* * *

Snapes awoke abruptly, his dark eyes searching for the source of the loud noise. Fire place. Floo. Albus. His brain supplied as he blinked away the haze of sleep. These thoughts came together quickly and he pocketed his wand. He wiped drool off the corner of his mouth with a robe cuff.

"I see you have acquired the papers," he pointed out the obvious.

Dumbledore nodded and took a seat in the chair opposite the professor. Severus felt his body tense at the unpleasant expression on his mentor's face. Something happened that Snape was not going to like, he could feel it.

"What have you done?" the potion master asked darkly.

"Only what I had to do, my boy."

Severus tore the papers from Albus' grip and unfurled them with shaking hands. His stomach fell in anticipation. He was afraid that he might lose his son after having only a few meager hours. The obsidian eyes widened as their gaze flew down the pages.

"What!" he yelled at the end.

The raven haired man slammed the paper down violently on a small side table. "I won't let you do it."

"It is done," Albus replied calmly. The bearded man rose to his feet. "I will need both you and Harry to sign on the marked lines. As long as the Minister received them at his office by the end of work tomorrow, there will be no problems."

"And if I - we - refuse?"

Albus raised a bushy gray eyebrow. "I would advice against it," he said slowly, "play along and both you and young Harry will have a chance at happiness."

The black haired wizard was livid, too angry for words.

"I will leave you now," the Headmaster said. He bowed his head and was gone in moments.

Left alone in the darkened room Severus sat down heavily, his gaze falling to the howler that had ended up on the floor at some point during the night. The man reached down and retrieved it. He would need to talk to Harry in the morning. Snape glanced at the barely illuminated wall clock and grimaced. Later today, he amended mentally.

The man stood to his feet and let the scroll papers of guardianship stay on the small table. He made his way to his bedroom to check on the boy. His boy.

He opened the door a sliver and looked in at the shadowed form hidden under the thick blankets. The dungeons could get quite chilly at night, but Harry Potter looked at peace, his features smoothed. For a moment Snape could almost imagine waking Harry for school, helping him with homework and encouraging the boy to do well before Quidditch practice. A paternal side the man rarely allowed himself to glimpse overtook him and he turned away, one hand on the door knob to steady himself as tears slipped silently down his cheeks.

All these years he had thought that he was alone, unloved and unappreciated. From what he had learned Harry had felt the same way. All this time they could have spent together, supporting each other as a family. Severus was devastated by the truth that had rocked the very foundation of his world. If only Lily had known the pain her decision would cause. He composed himself and turned back to gaze at his sleeping son.

The potion master had wanted to save them both from the inevitable demise that they faced now together at the hands of Voldemort, but Albus Dumbledore had shattered any chance of that happening. Severus felt a sudden and intense hatred for the old man, but it did not last. As cruel as the action was he knew the Headmaster had took it with the greater good in mind. Hell, Severus had used the same argument to justify some of his own past evil deeds which were deemed necessary to fool the Dark Lord into trusting him with information he could then divulge to agents of the Light.

The greater good. What a lie. Now the man realized that the only true good was one action at a time, taking place each moment. Choices.

He vowed to himself in that moment to make good choices for Harry's sake. His son mattered more than the war - his son was the bloody war. The boy's death would save the lives of thousands, but did that even begin to justify it? Severus thought not.

Harry Potter was a new beginning for Snape, one that the death eater had not realized that he had been waiting for all this time. He meant to make the most of it not matter what the manipulative old codger did to try and stop him.

Severus would explain things to harry later that morning and then eh would let the boy decide. Ultimately it would be up to the teenager anyway whether he would allow himself to die to save the wizarding world of if he would fight against the bloody destiny that had been forced upon him. Such a hard choice for one so young. Difficult and not without its dangers.

"It is not fair and I am so sorry," Severus whispered aloud to the sleeping child in his room.

The man closed the door quietly and returned to the main room and his chair. He was in a brooding mood and he had to think of several choices to present to the boy in the morning.

They could live at the castle as Dumbledore and the guardianship papers preferred. They would be protected, but confined and the Headmaster would be watching them both like a hawk. The Headmaster had a way of convincing people his way was best given enough time. Harry was a lamb being prepared for sacrificial slaughter and he would continue to be as long as they stayed in the castle. Dumbledore would invent a way to manipulate them into agreeing that his way was for the best.

They could run, acquire new identities and lead new lives. Forget the Order of the Phoenix and its mission - let the damned Light fight its own battles instead of relying on the death of a child. His child was no longer the savior come to rescue them from their past mistakes. Lives would be lost and the Light might ultimately burn out and fail, but he and Harry would escape and they would be together. Father and son the way it should have always been.

The hardest possibility might be the best, the man thought sadly. They could burn the letter, allow the Headmaster to obliviate them and then go back to how things had been yesterday. There would be some damage control - the Weasleys and the Dursleys - but it was manageable. Albus could easily have the paperwork "lost" and memory charm all those involved down to the too-smart Granger girl. Wrapped up in a bow and tie, this action seemed the easiest. They would simply have to forget.

The clock ticked in the dungeon. Almost two o'clock in the morning. There was no way he could fall back asleep so Severus stood and paced across the floor for several moments before he decided to bew a memory draught. He had found himself growing attached to the boy, closer than he had ever felt to anyone since Lily's death, but he would be prepared when the time came. Whichever decision the boy made, the potion master would honor, because the boy was all that mattered to him now and Snape was wiling to go back to being a the hating, spiteful teacher if it meant keeping Harry safe. Severus felt his heart break at the unsettling thought and so he pushed it away.

* * *

Harry whimpered in his sleep and rolled on to his side. He drew his legs up to his chest as he relived a rather horrific day with the Dursley's.

"And then wash the laundry and be sure they all get dry this time around."

Aunt Petunia's grating tones carried down the hallway to his cupboard. She would let him out soon to make breakfast and then he had a whole list of chores. The boy had dreamed of the redheaded woman screaming his name again, but this time there had been a flash of green light at the end right before he woke up. Harry was feeling even more claustrophobic than usual after the dream and he could not wait to hear the rough metal sound of the lock being pulled back.

They had kept him locked in because Harry kept waking up on the couch without any memory of how he got there - sleepwalking, he thought, but his Aunt had been disgusted by his "insolent behavior". He had gotten his "dirty freakishness" all over her floral sofa and lovely little throw pillows. The boy had understood then that he was broken, not the same as his cousin or the other young boys at their middle school. He was a freak.

Harry rolled in his sleep as the scene changed.

The young wizard was now in the chamber of secrets. Voldemort - or at least a part of him - was studying Ginny's unmoving form with a mad smile twisting his face. Harry watched in growing horror and understanding as the boy wrote in the air with his wand.

Tom Marvolo Riddle.

The fiery orange letters rearranged themselves and the Gryffindor boy felt his stomach drop as he read.

Lord Voldemort

It was the One-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named. Again. Harry wondered if he kept drawing the dark lord to him, because he was broken. A freak. Did he deserve the bad things he saw? Did he cause Ginny's death? He was a freak and that had to be why everyone around him was hurt or killed. He was a dark lord magnent.

In the chamber Harry heard his Aunt and Uncles voices mix and echo. They spit out his name with ugly voices. The name they had given to him.

"Freak!"

He looked down and was relieved to see Ginny's eyes flutter open. Harry felt his hear leap into his throat. Not dead then. His friend stared at him and he saw that her eyes were cold and distant, like she was looking through him or refusing to look at him.

"You're a freak, Harry," her sweet young voice said with dead certainty. "You will always be a freak."

Tom Riddle leaned down, until his face was only inches away from the boy's ear. Harry was too stunned to move away.

"Your own parents didn't want you and Snape wont either. He is going to leave you." Riddle laughed long and loud. "Why do you think he would want a freak like you as a son?"

Ginny blinked and pulled herself up to a sitting position, eyes still looking through him. Unfocused.

"He doesn't really want you, Harry, and he never will," she said.

The chamber disappeared and the wizard felt himself falling through thick blackness.

Harry sat up in bed with a startled gasp. His heart was racing and he felt sick to his stomach. The boy was used to disturbing dreams - it was a rare night that he didn't have them - but tonight felt different. Usually he could wake up and tell himself it was all just a dream. Not this time.

He swallowed hard as a montage of hurtful insults Severus Snape had hurdled his way ran through his mind. How could he reassure himself if he still did not trust the potion master to care about him. There was so much mistrust between them, how could love change that? If Snape loved him at all. Harry shook his head wondering if he should check on the professor. It had looked like the man was in a drink induced coma the last time he had seen him, in the chair in the living room. He decided not to get up.

Harry sighed and laid his head back on the soft pillows closing his eyes. He hoped he didn't dream again that night.

* * *
CHAPTER SIX 2:00 a.m.
* * *

Ronald Weasley tip toed into his sisters room and over to where Hermione was pretending to sleep on the extra bed.

"Hey, you awake?" he whispered, poking at her side.

She opened one eye and used it to glare at him.

"Of course I'm awake. Do you think I could sleep knowing Harry could be in danger?" she hissed, poking him back.

Ginny groaned and pulled her blanket over her head. "'M sleepin'," she muttered in a muffled whine.

"Then stop talking," Ron shot back rudely.

His sister huffed and rolled the other direction. Hermione looked up at Ron, the only lighti n the room coming from the lare window at the head o the beds. The boy's face was creased with worry lines.

"What can we do?" the boy asked in a low voice.

Hermione shook her head. "The Headmaster knows. I guess we will just have to trust him to take care of it..."

Ron nodded, but didn't like it one bit.

"I think dad's really angry this time," the redhead said, worry creeping into his tone, "I heard him talking to mom about grounding me for the rest of the summer."

Hermione's hand shot out from under the covers and grabbed his wrist.

"We'll have to make them understand that we were only trying to protect Harry. They can't punish us for that," she said reasonably.

Ron gulped. "I hope not."

"Shut up and get out," Ginny growled from under her pillow.

Ron stuck out his tongue in her direction and then shot Hermione an apologetic look before backing towards the door.

"Goodnight, 'Mione," he said.

"Night, Ron," she replied.

"Thank Merlin!" Ginny muttered as the door closed behind her brother.

* * *

Severus leaned over the cauldron and breathed in the smell of the memory altering potion within. He needed it to have just the right tangy aroma before he could add the sliced dragon weed. The man dropped in the pieces one at a time, stirring the golden liquid counter clockwise three times. Then he left the potion to sit.

The man felt a more at ease in his lab surrounded by his potions ingredients and the familiar smells. He hoped Harry would be fine alone for the hour or so it would take to finish brewing the potion. He ran a hand through his raven hair feeling a bit depressed that his own flesh and blood had no apparent interest in potions. It was the one thing that had helped Severus through the hardest years and he had seen little progress in his class when it came to the Gryffindor seeker.

When everything else changed potions remained the same. A steady constant. The smells and recipes and the feel of crushed beetle carapaces stuck under his fingernails. It was reliable. Even the oil feel of his hair was a product of the potion fumes.

He tried to forget for a few moments, there in his dungeon laboratory, just how completely his life had changed in a few hours. He didn't feel betrayed by Lily any longer - his beautiful, angelic Lily who had turned out to be as opportunistic as everyone else. Instead he let himself remember the first time he had taught her to brew a potion. Poly juice.

Severus had grown used to taking out his anger and regret on the children that he taught - those not in his house, of course - and even he knew that he had crossed an invisible line with Harry Potter. The teacher had practically basked in the boy's pain and there was no way he could ever take those moments back. They were stuck in time. All those evil, snide comments he had always wanted to say to James Potter spilled out of his mouth whenever Harry entered the potion classroom. It had become a guilty pleasure for the man and now he would give anything to take those words back.

The man groaned and put his head in his hands. He had taken pleasure in wounding his son. Words could hurt so badly and he knew that better than most. Still, he had committed the same travesty. He had become the very thing he despised, the man realized in a moment of harsh clarity. In more ways than one he had become like James Potter. Severus felt sick.

The potion was beginning to simmer with wafts of purple smoke creating a haze over the golden liquid. He reached for a clear vial on the left side of the table and carefully measured out two drops and then added it to the cauldron. The potion hissed angrily, the surface undulating for a long moment before the drops dissolved, turning the potion a steady blue.

Severus walked over to the storage shelves. There were several jars out of order and he proceeded to move them back to their rightful spots, straightening others as he did so. The man needed his work room to be in order and making sure everything was where it belonged helped him to work off some of the nervous energy. He counted out twelve minutes in his head and then stepped back over to the work bench where he added some crushed dandelion hearts. He stirred the flower dust several dozen times before leaving the rest to settle on the bottom of the cauldron where they would singe and turn the liquid a perfect shade of green.

The man remembered the guardianship papers that he had left locked up in his safe. He had not wanted the boy to stumble across them. Deep down Snape figured Harry always knew the Headmaster was pulling the strings, The Great Puppeteer, but to see the cold words drafted across those papers would devastated the boy.

Albus never lost any sleep over the way that he used and manipulated people and Severus could almost understand, empathize with the man. The good of the many was more important than the good of the few. It was an age old argument. Who was he to judge the old man? Severus had asked himself that many times in moments of pity and self-hatred. The potion master knew that he had been guilty of using the same line of thinking when he had injured and even killed in the name of the dark lord. Were all men equally guilty? He wondered darkly.

Everyone had secrets and reasons to feel ashamed. Skeletons buried in their pasts, sometimes literally. Only children were truly innocent and they had all the odds stacked against them being able to keep that naivete. He had actively destroyed Harry's chance and he hated himself for that. What kind of father would he prove to be if the boy gave him a chance? Cruel and exacting? Brooding and pensive? Fair and caring? Or perhaps a mixture of it all, changing moment by moment.

Severus Snape was afraid to find out. He was afraid of turning out like his own abusive father, Tobias Snape. The Hogwarts teacher shuddered at the angry, yelling image o his father that seemed to always hovering in the back of his mind. Just at the edge of whatever he was focused on. Would Harry see him like that? Did he already? A bad memory no one could exorcise. A bad man.

He finished the potion and carefully poured the steaming liquid into an appropriate container. Then he spelled everything clean and set to putting it away, his thoughts still turned to his new responsibilities.

Severus tried to see himself as more than his father's son and more than a pawn to be fought over and moved. More than he had ever been before. The man tried to picture himself as a role model who could always be counted on and trusted. That was the man he wanted to be for his son, for Harry.

* * *

While Snape agonized over his own fallibility a dark meeting was being called without him at Malfoy Manor.

"Are you certain of this, Lucius?" Voldemort asked in a hiss of rage.

The blond haired wizard bowed his head. "I am afraid so, my lord. Severus has betrayed us."

"Us?" the hiss turned into a growl. "He has betrayed me!"

Lucius bowed lower. "Of course, yes, that is what I meant. You. He has betrayed you, my lord."

Bellatrix Lestrange shot the man a displeased glare from where she stood to the right of the dark lord. They were in one of the large dens in the heart of Malfoy Manor. Several dozen death eaters and sympathizers filled the room, some seated others standing. A low murmur began amongst them at the unexpected news.

Severus Snape had adopted Harry Potter.

"Silence!" Voldemort cried, holding out both arms.

The room fell quiet. Lucius had many contacts at the Ministry, but this newest develipement he had overheard personally while on other business related to the cause. The Malfoy had always believed that the potion master's loyalties were fragile, but even Lucius would not have guessed how unstable they truly were. Adopting Harry Potter? Severus had to be aware it was paramount to a death sentence.

Voldemort had sworn to kill the boy and all those working to protect him. Snape's name had now been added to the top of that long list.

"We will exact vengeance," Voldemort assured his followers with a tight grin.

Bellatrix nodded in support of her master. "I will kill the traitor for you, my lord, and bring you his head on a platter." There was a mad glint in the woman's eyes.

"Yes. Make him suffer!" a death eater called from the back.

"Kill the snake!" yet another added to the growing rumble of discontent.

Voldemort listened to his disciples as they voice ever-creative ways to maim or kill Severus Snape.

"We will wait until he is most vulnerable. When he least expects. We will wait until he feels safe and then we will murder him in a manner befitting a traitor. I will see the light leave his eyes."

The dark lord's face twisted into a mask of amusement and hatred, his thin mouth snarling into a smile. He would make the potion master pay dearly.

* * *

Severus chose to ignore the ache in his left are where the dark mark was writhing angrily. A meeting must have been called and due to the time and date he feared it was not a coincidence. The dark lord knew of his betrayal. There was no other explanation.

The memory altering potion cooling in a jar on his work bench was no longer an option. His cover as a death eater had been torn away and not he could only move forward. No going back to the ignorant past. This new development left him with only two choices. Stay as a pawn of Dumbledore or run away with his son.

Snape had known for a while now the fate that seemed destined to meet Harry Potter. Death "at the precise moment". The potion master fumbled in his robes for a stomach calming draught and promptly drank it. Initially his hatred of the Boy-Who-Lived had only grown stronger when he had learned how it all must end. Forced to watch another version of Lily die at the dark lord's hand, unable to stop it. Anger at the situation had helped to dull the pain of an impending loss. He remembered how his treatment of Harry had grown even more grim after that meeting with Albus.

Severus could no longer use anger to cover up his true feelings. His son's life was in the balance, hanging by a threat that could snap without warning. Severus shelved the potion. He could send it to St. Mungo's later - they always accepted his overstocked potions.

He could not help but wonder how different his life would have been without the dark influence of Voldemort. Would Lily have chosen him instead of James? Would they have had children together and a home? He could have had a career in potions and owned his own store or given lectures world wide. He had the expertise.

That potential life had been stolen away in a slew of bad choices and worse reactions. He alone was responsible for where his life had ended up, no matter how much he tried to blame others. Alone in a dungeon and about to be put on a very serious hit list. Choices, lies, betrayals. Severus shook his head at the fallacy of all men.

He could only hope that Harry would be stronger, more morally grounded an less willing to throw his bright future away for a temporary gain - or the safety of others. Severus rolled his dark eyes towards the ceiling. Who was he kidding? The boy was a bloody Gryffindor. They were born hard-wired to sacrifice themselves.

Harry would give his life for the safe of a stranger. It was noble, perhaps, but just as foolhardy in Snape's eyes as dying for the sake of money or greed. What did kindness matter after you were dead? Power and prestige. All of it meant nothing once a soul had crossed into the veil.

Severus would do his best to protect Harry from making that very mistake. He would try to convince the boy that Dumbledore's plan was wrong. The boy deserved a future.

The man circled the room as he blew out the half-dozen candles that had been producing flickering illumination. He left the darkened room by feel and started towards his quarters. No need for his wand, he knew the way by heart.

The silent, black trek gave him plenty of time to review the decisions he had made in the past. It was a night for reflection.

* * *
CHAPTER SEVER 3:00 a.m.
* * *

Harry awoke from his newest nightmare and sat up in bed, scrubbing his face wit his hands. He wondered if the Dursley's were still stumbling around their house dumb, voiceless. He liked to think so although he knew most spells had a relatively diminished time limit. Curious about how long had passed, he reached for his wand and used it to cast a tempus charm. The time appeared in the air a foot above the bed where it floated for several long seconds before fading. Five minutes after three in the morning.

Harry bit his lip. The boy knew it was stupid to be so upset about a measly old birthday, but he still felt wounded by the oversight. Tonight he had felt especially vulnerable. In a snippet of dream right before he woke up, Snape had come to him with a gift and had said three words that had meant the world. Happy birthday, Harry.

The boy scrubbed his face with his hand. He longed to hear the man say those words. There didn't have to be a present or anything, just the words.

"Happy birthday, Harry," he whispered to himself three hours and five minutes late.

The young wizard felt rested enough on the two hours of interrupted sleep and decided to get up. He wandered into the other room and saw Snape sitting in his chair, his large nose sharply outlined in the shadows.

"Do you require some dreamless sleep potion?" the man asked casually.

"No. Just...some tea maybe," the boy replied.

A flash of yellow light shot from the tip of the Slytherin's wand and a cup of tea appeared in the air, several inches in front of Harry's nose. He took it by the handle and sipped it cautiously. Licorice flavor.

"Thank you, this is great," the boy said. He blew across the how liquid.

"You are most welcome."

Harry walked over to the other chair and sat down. He balanced the tea cup on his knee and watched the steam pour off it and curl up into a plume that was soon lost in the darkness. They sat a long time in the morning stillness, neither saying a word. Harry took a longer sip and closed his eyes, enjoying the warm drink in contrast to the cold dungeons.

"Did you have bad dreams? Anything you need to talk about?" Severus asked, trying to act as he suspected a supportive father would.

Harry shook his head. "I always have nightmares, but that's okay. I'm used to them."

Severus kept his displeased expression hidden, but inside he was seething. What kind of guardians would let a child think it was alright, normal even, to have nightmares every night. The boy looked resigned and that made the death eater madder than ever. He would certainly be paying those muggles a visit the first chance he got.

"I will start you on a dreamless sleep regiment."

"I don't need it really," the boy insisted.

"You want to be haunted by events beyond your control or would you rather be given a few hours of restful, dreamless sleep every night?" Severus asked, a bit bewildered by the boy's refusal.

Harry had never thought about it like that before. It wasn't like he enjoyed the nightmares, but not having them had never been an option in the past. He couldn't remember a night that hadn't involved waking up with his heart pounding and fear flooding his veins.

"I guess you have a point," Harry conceded sheepishly, "I could try it."

"Excellent. I can make a fresh batch later today."

Harry drank the rest of his tea and then the cup promptly disappeared.

"Um, sir, professor..." Harry stumbled over what to call the man.

"Yes?" Severus asked.

"Do you think my friends could come over - just for a bit - today? I just...It was my birthday and with all this stuff going on, well, I didn't get a chance to really spend any time with them."

Snape wanted to kick himself. Of course it had been the boy's birthday. He gritted his teeth and then forced himself to push the self-loathing aside.

"If your friends promise to behave then I see no reason why they should not be allowed a short time with you."

Harry's face lit up with a smile. "Thank you..." he still did not know how to address the man.

"You are welcome, son," Severus had no such inhibitions.

Harry felt uneasy and reassured at the same time when he heard the word. The strong yet conflicting emotions made his hands start to tremor and he curled them into the black shirt sleeves.

"Do you think they will forgive me?" he hadn't meant to ask that out loud.

"Your friends?" the shadowed man asked for clarification.

"Yeah. They seemed pretty upset before."

The potion master steepled his fingers. "I fail to see how their drastic response - or the truth of your lineage - is in any way your fault. There is nothing to be forgiven, as I see it."

The boy bit his lip. Harry knew his friends and they would not rest until they understood why he had agreed to stay with Snape. The blood relation they shared would be hardly enough reason to satisfy Ron. Hermione might be more understanding, but she had been growing closer to the redheaded boy over the last year and Harry doubted she would take an opposing side.

"I practically threw them out," the boy pointed out grimly.

Severus sniffed. "In a way most befitting their juvenile behavior."

"Still, they're my friends and they only acted that way because they were worried about me."

"And yet you have so little faith in their friendship that you question whether they will be upset and unable to forgive you? That does not sound like a very supportive friendship to me. Co-dependent would be a better description."

Harry's forehead creased. "Co-dependent?" he had never heard that word outside charms class.

"You require their approval to base your self-confidence on...We must work together to help you attain a less self-destructive bond with those little Gryffindors," Severus was musing aloud, intent on helping his son in any way possible.

"I can look after myself," Harry grumbled, feeling judged by the man's observations.

The teacher inclined his head. "Indeed. In most common cases of co-dependency the individual has been forced into an adult role before they are ready. Abuse, neglect and inferior role models all help the development of co-dependency cycles much to the detriment of the individual," he added a bit harshly, "your Aunt and Uncle were uniquely able to create a perfect environment for this disorder."

Harry glared at the man and chose to remain silent in the face of what he felt was insults meant to mock him. The teenager drew his knees up to his chest and let his feet perch on the edge of the chair. He circled his hands near his ankles.

"It was not an insult, Harry," Severus told him softly, "merely an observation.

"What happened to me there wasn't half as bad as the things that happen to me here every year," the boy pointed out bitterly. "I've been attacked so many times it's a miracle I'm not a permanent resident of St. Mungo's psych ward."

"It is true that you have gone through more tragedy in your life than most people could imagine even in their worst nightmares. You have faced true evil in many forms. Your Aunt and Uncle are individuals on the same scale as Voldemort. Evil, greedy, selfish and more."

Harry's eyes flashed with anger in the low light. He was tired of people telling him what his life was and what it wasn't. Snape had no right.

"Where does that leave you?" he spit out the question. "Where do you fall on that scale? You have certainly exhibited all the symptoms of an abuser."

The boy hoped he had hurt the man with his words. He wanted the professor to know what it felt like to be told an unpleasant truth, to have it shoved down his throat. The boy's teeth flashed in the darkness in an ugly smile.

Severus was silent or a very long moment. Of course he had expected this kind of reaction at some point, but that did not lesson the blow. His son had no reason to trust him or his love. That level of acceptance had to be earned.

"I have been unfair ot you in the past and I apologize," it was difficult to keep the sarcasm out of his voice.

"Unfair?" Harry hurdled the word back incredulously.

"Yes. Unfair and unkind and any number of other...unsavory things," the man admitted openly. He would give no excuses for his past behavior.

"Unpleasant is a hot summer day weeding the garden for eight hours. Unpleasant is seeing Cedric die in my dreams every single night. Unpleasant is the biggest understatement ever when it comes to the way you have treated me. From day one you targeted me, humiliated and bullied me."

"That was a cover for..." damn, he had promised himself not to make excuses.

The boy continued on with his rant. "What are you trying to get out of this anyway?" Harry asked, "an heir, a protege? The continuation of your bloodline? What? Tell me!" His voice had grown steadily louder and more desperate.

Harry shook his head. No matter how the potion master responded it wouldn't change a single thing about the past. He had been deluding himself when he thought things could be different.

"I want nothing," Severus replied with a sigh of resignation, "mabye, I want to make amends. I want to be the father you deserve."

The man rubbed his forehead. Honesty was dangerous, shaky ground. Still, for the boy he would eat his pride and say the words that needed to be said. How else would wounds of the past be healed.

"Father?" Harry spoke the word quietly, his voice empty of emotion. "I've never had a father. Why do you think I should give that title to you? After all of these years why should I acknowledge you as my father? You're just the drugged man who my mother fucked on night."

Severus' jaw locked, his steepled hands falling to the chair arms where they gripped tight enough to leave indents. The crude reference to Lily was more than Snape was willing to let slide. When he spoke his voice was cold and dangerous.

"Your mother was a beautiful, kind woman. You have no right to speak about her memory in such a way."

The teenager pushed out of his seat and stood as tall as his short stature would allow.

"She's my mother and I can talk about her any way that I want."

The Gryffindor stormed out of the room and down the hall. Once in the bedroom he slammed the door behind him as hard as he could, needing to vent his anger in a physical way.

The potion master sat shrouded in darkness while he seethed in righteous rage. Lily's memory should be cherished, not dragged through the mud. Would this be the way that the boy always saw him? The man who fucked his mother. For every step forward they seemed to take two steps back. The night had been long and he hoped that by the end of it their views o each other would have changed significantly. The paradigm shift he had experienced when reading Lily's letter had fundamentally changed him. His priorities were no longer based on winning the war to redeem himself.

The problem lay in trying to prove to Harry that he had indeed changed. Snape had hoped cajoling and apologizing would help set him on the right track. That was what good people did after all, he assumed. Severus closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He tried to picture the kindest person he knew. Image firmly fixed in place he opened his obsidian eyes.

"What would Remus Lupin do?" he asked the otherwise unoccupied room.

Comfort the boy.

Severus stood uncertainly. How would Remus comfort Harry? Hugging? The potion master shuddered at his own response. No, there had to be another way.

Talking? That had not gone over so well. He would need to practice that area.

Severus tapped his chin with an index finger. He could fire call the lycan and simply ask for advice. He frowned. Since Harry was involved the mangy mutt would probably welcome the early morning call.

Last resort it was then, the man thought darkly.

* * *
CHAPTER EIGHT 4:00 a.m.
* * *

Harry Potter sat on the edge of the bed starring downward at nothing. He did not grab his wand to cast a lumos, instead he chose to remain in the inky blackness.

He could stare into the dark and pretend everything was alright and that he was back at the Dursleys and the whole night was nothing more than a terrible dream. He sighed. The warm, soft sweat suit kept derailing these thoughts, grounding him in the unwanted reality. Snape was his father. Snape was an ass.

The Boy-Who-Lived sighed heavily. There was nothing for it. He would need to at least tolerate the man. The boy felt guilty for saying those things about his mom. He would never think that way about her really, but something about Snape's cold assumptions had caused Harry to push back. Hard. He had needed to test he boundaries and find out just what it would take for the old Snape to make a reappearance. Harry had learned at a young age not to trust people based on their words alone. People would say anything to achieved the desired results and Severus Snape was no different. As head of Slytherin house it was pretty much a prerequisite, the boy thought.

Harry turned and crawled into the middle of the bed and pulled the blankets up over him until only his head peeked out. He wondered what kind of punishment his outburst had earned him. Since Snape had not immediately followed and issued the discipline the boy assumed he would find out later that morning.

Until then the professor could go hang himself for all Harry cared. His eyes fell shut and he let himself drift back to sleep.

* * *

Remus Lupin paced in his living room, eyes straying to the fireplace every few seconds. He had been wakened by a doe patronus and a vague, and rather unsettling, message from professor Snape.

"We have to talk immediately," the doe had said in a deep, male voice.

So, here he was in the middle of the night waiting or his guest to arrive. A million thoughts were going through Lupin's mind. Was Harry safe? Had something happened to compromise the Order? Had the dark lord decided to finally make his move. Was this it.

The werewolf continued to pace back and forth, his stride long and his expression one of agitation. Where was the blasted professor? He thought as worries circled repeatedly in his head. The fire place whooshed to life and the dour potion master stepped into view.

"How bad is it?" Lupin asked, his voice balancing in the edge of panick.

Severus raised an eyebrow at the lycan's obvious alarm. His message hadn't been that cryptic, he thought in bemusement. Certainly not warranting this level of concern. The black haired man shook his head.

"Not at all, you daft werewolf," Severus replied in exasperation, "I am merely here seeking your advice on a personal matter."

Lupin's eyes grew even wider, both of his eyebrows shooting up towards the fringe of his hair.

"Who got turned?" Remus asked, assuming his experience on 'the condition' was needed. "Was it a student?"

Severus huffed in irritation. "No one got turned," he reassured before explaining, "I am having some difficulty communication with my son, that is all. You are good with children and I thought that maybe you would be able to help me."

It had taken a lot to admit his shortcomings to the werwolf. For Harry he would endure the humiliation.

"Did you say your son?" Lupin asked, shocked.

Severus pointed towards a chair. "Sit down and let me explain." Once they were both seated he continued. "Last night it was divulged by a highly trustworthy source that Harry Potter is the result of a union between myself and Lily Potter."

Lupin's face turned a violent shade of red. "Who is the source of this rubbish? Tell me so I can teach him a lesson," there was implied torture in his voice and expression.

Remus rarely exhibited this level of anger, but to know that someone was making up lies about the Potter's was unbearable. He wished or he first time that he could morph at will.

"I am afraid the dark lord beat you to it," Severus replied drolly, "the source was Lily Potter."

"No!" Lupin shouted, horrified.

"Yes," Snape responded calmly. He had expected this and worse from the werewolf. "I thought perhaps it would be easier for you to understand if you hear it from James."

Severus pulled the charmed howler out of his pocket and activated it with a flick of his wand. The letter flew up into the air and began to speak. Remus listened, his heart growing heavier with each massing minute. They had all been deceived then, the Maraudars and he Order both. The lycan looked to Snape with new appreciation once the howler grew still.

"And this." the potion master produced Lily's letter and handed it to the other man.

Remus read it and then returned it looking slightly ill as he did so. His best friends had been lying, manipulative, selfish people. Everything Snape had always accused them of being. It hurt Remus to know that the potion master was the only one without blinders on when it came to the Potters. Now the head of Slytherin house had a teenage son.

The werewolf clasped his hands together. "Now I understand the position you must be in. Harry is not fond of you as I am sure you are aware."

"Indeed," Severus replied dryly. "I have tried to be reasonable and calm, but he insists on pushing."

"He is a teenage boy, Severus."

"Hm. As I recall that means listening to your father, studying and being humiliated by school bullies."

"Are you ever going to let that go?"

"Probably not," the potion master replied honestly.

"Old grudges aside, I am sure we can both agree that Harry needs a stable environment."

"I have relocated him from his Aunt and Uncle's to my quarters at Hogwarts."

Remus frowned. "Are you cure that is wise? The Dursleys are all he knows. They're a part of his support network."

"I assure you, Lupin, they were not supportive in any capacity."

The werewolf's face fell. "There were signs when I was teaching at the castle, but I trusted in Dumbledore."

"Albus has a monoploy on misplaced trust," Severus remarked grimly.

"How did Harry take it?"

"Which part?"

"All of it, I guess."

Severus leaned back in his chair, gaze focused on the left side of the far wall. The night seemed to stretch back for weeks in his memory.

"Once the letter arrived at my home I had to go to him," the man explained, "Due to Lily's wording I made the inference that Harry had been notified as well. I needed to make sure that the Gryffindor brain of his didn't get him into trouble...if he decided to verify the letter's validity."

Remus nodded in understanding. He would have acted no differently.

"When I arrived the manner with which those loathsome muggles addressed him..."

Severus shook his head in despair and Remus' clasped hands turned white.

"I reacted badly," the raven haired wizard admitted softly. "I hexed them all and ordered Harry to come with me. I hadn't planned to take him and Spinner's End wasn't safe enough. I was forced to apparate us both to the school. Then I explained the situation to Albus and he went directly to the Ministry."

"Legal guardianship papers?" Remus inquired.

Snape nodded. "I offered Harry some food - those bloody muggles were starving him, Lupin!" the potion master exclaimed in a horror and disgust. "After he ate the boy vomited the meal back up again. He had put a silencing charm on the door - ineffectual in my quarters - and it was almost impossible not to go in and comfort him or at least give him a potion to help."

"He wouldn't have wanted that. Harry has a lot of pride in his own independence," Remus said with a sad half-smile.

"I know. He was just getting off to bed - the child did not even have a set of night clothes, he had been deprived of even such a simple thing. That is when Granger and Weasley burst in uninvited." The man threw his hands up in frustration at their brazen action. "Arthur collected them, thank Merlin, but not before they informed me that Albus had let slip I was 'adopting' Harry Potter."

The werewolf's mouth fell into a thin line, but he remained silent.

"I am certain the dark lord has been made aware. There was a meeting called not long ago."

Lupin's eyebrows knit together in concern. "Have you informed the Order?" he asked.

"Not yet. Harry's sleep has been fitful and I did not want to leave him for long. After I discovered that bloody howler I had a drink...I awoke and had the rather inconvenient fight with the boy."

Remus nodded slowly. "Alright. Where is Harry now?"

"Asleep again. There is a spell set to alarm one if he wakes up or is threatened in my absence."

"Good, good. What was the fight about?"

Severus ran a hand through his hair, nails raking across the scalp. "Harry was questioning my motives and I was attempting to apologize for my past behavior towards him."

"Hm." Remus tapped an index finger against his lips as he thought. "And?"

"He said 'you're just the drugged man that my mother fucked'." Snape repeated the boy's words verbatim.

"In response to what comment from you? I need the whole picture."

Severus pinched the bridge of his nose, a tension headache was beginning to form.

"I told him that I wanted nothing more than to be the father that he deserved."

Remus nodded, suddenly understanding. "Only a real cold hearted bastard would say something like that tonight of all nights."

"I don't understand?"

"I was his birthday and he had just discovered that his father, the man he had idolized, was a fraud and a liar while you, the man who taunted and humiliated him since his first day at Hogwarts, a man who has seemingly sided with Voldemort, you waltz in and professor your desire to parent him. How did you him to react?" The werewolf let his words sink in for a moment before adding. "You need to earn his trust through actions, not what he perceives as empty words."

"I suppose that makes sense given his previous home environment, but I imagine it will take time. How am I to interact with him between now and then?"

"Patience. Think of Harry as a promising student who needs nurturing. He firm, but fair. Gentle and caring. He may not appreciate at first, but if you keep at it consistently he will come around."

Severus smiled grimly. "Either that or I will end up with a spoiled, arrogant brat. As you said before, he is a teenage boy."

Remus chuckled. "Now, no giving up before you've even tried. I believe you have what it takes to become a parent and, for Harry's sake, I want to help you along the way."

The potion master bowed his head in a nod of appreciation. Then alarm bells clanged in his mind as the monitoring charms were activated at Hogwarts. The man stood instantly and strode towards the floo, fumbling for some of the gray powder as he did so. Remus stood as well.

"He is awake," Severus said curtly, "I must return."

Lupin nodded. "Remember what I said. My door is always open to you and Harry."

A moment later the werewolf was alone again, but this time he felt a calm resignation settle over him like a blanket. Many of his personal priorities had been changed in the short amount of time that Snape had been with him.

The clock on his mantle struck five o'clock in the morning.

* * *
CHAPTER NINE 5:00 a.m.
* * *

Harry was awake and shaking, nauseous and gasping for breath as panic took control. He had woken from his latest nightmare with a scream of fear and pain. Muggles were dying. The dark lord was furious about something - no, someone. Severus Snape. The name echoed through Harry's mind and his stomach heaved.

The boy tried to move out of the bed, the bathroom was just down the hall, but he was shaking too badly and his limbs seemed distant and heavy, they refused to cooperate. His stomach heaved again and he vomited his late night tea across the blankets. The strong smell made him throw up again.

He wanted to die.

Screaming, pleading, crying women and children.

Harry found himself sobbing between each labored breath. All of that pain and suffering was because of him. It hit home stronger than ever at that moment that every move he made as the Boy-Who-Lived had consequences or hundreds, perhaps even thousands, of innocent lives. The responsibility and the guilt made him long for his own death.

The young wizard had thought about it before, but not seriously. Suicide had been a passing idea, one that he always found reason to reject. He needed a motivation now, but found it hard to focus. Pride in his friends and family name used to get him through the worst visions.

Now he felt like that had all been stripped away from him in one night. Who would want to be friends with the Gryffindor son of a Snape? He didn't fit in anywhere anymore.

When school started again he imagined that he would be ostracized by the other students. A traitor to his own house. So many Gryffindors had looked up to him over the years, but once they discovered he was the son of a deat heater - and the most hated professor at the castle - their attitude towards him would change for the worse.

The muggles that had been killed that night would haunt Harry forever. Their twisted, blood soaked bodies were lying dead because of him.

He felt suddenly too worn, too drained to move. The smell of vomit made his eyes water. The great, heaving sobs had finally ceased and the teenager was left feeling numb. His limbs still shook in waves of tremors.

He could still hear their screams.

A knock sounded at the door and Harry jumped, his heart suddenly in his throat.

"Come in?" he offered, voice shaking.

The door opened and Snape entered with a spell that instantly lit the room. Both gazes fell on the soiled blanket and Harry blushed in embarrassment and shame. The older man scorgioed the mess into oblivion without another word.

"S-sorry, sir."

"No need to apologize. Do you require a stomach calming potion?"

Harry frowned at the suggestion and dug into his pocket, producing the forgotten vial Dobby had given to him earlier.

"Got one, but I don't need it. I'll be fine in a minute."

Severus looked unimpressed. "Drink the potion."

Harry was too tired to protest further. He downed the potion in a single gulp and instantly his stomach settled down and he sighed in relief.

"There were people being killed. Crucioed by Bellatrix Lestrange," the boy said, waving his tremoring hand.

"Do you wish to talk about it?" the potion master asked softly.

Harry appeared not to have heard the man. He was staring straight ahead, brilliant green eyes unfocused.

"I could hear their screams in my head and I could feel his delight and anger. He is so angry. He ordered all those muggles killed because of what happened to me tonight. I saw through his eyes, felt the killing curse flow through him...like it was flowing through me. I watched them die and I was powerless," his breaths came in short gasps.

"Harry, what happened is not your fault." Severus put a hand on the boy's shaking shoulders. "The dark lord was responsible, not you."

Harry sucked in a deeper breath and looked up at his father. "Sometimes I think everyone would be better off if I died."

Severus froze, every muscle locked in place at the unexpected revelation. Harry felt relieved to have finally spoken aloud the toxic feelings that had been eating him up for years. For a brief, frightening moment the boy wondered if the potion master would agree with his morbid thoughts. Harry steeled himself, ready to be devastated once again by the mans' cold, sarcastic words.

Severus felt that he had reached a moment where their future together might hang in the balance of his response. This was what Remus had been talking about.

Show that you are trustworthy. He could practically hear the werewolf in his head, pushing him to take affirmative action.

Harry found himself suddenly and without warning enveloped in a warm hug, his vision flooded with black material. Was Snape...patting his back? Harry's damp eyes went wide and after an impossibly long moment he hugged the man back. Acceptance.

A few moment later Harry noticed that his shaking had stopped. His face felt strange where the salty tears had dried and he giggled at the ridiculous wonder of it all. Severus pulled back enough to give the teenager a glance.

"Should I accept that as a positive sign or proof that I have irreparably broken you?" the man asked, only half serious.

The teenager shook his head. "Neither. I'm just relieved, that's all. I'd never told anyone how I felt before..about...that."

"I'm honored you chose to trust me with it."

"I guess, since you're going to be the parent in my life from now on I have to. Thanks, though, for not laughing at me or anything awful..." his voice trailed off.

"I would never do that," Severus declared sternly.

Harry sighed and pulled away from the man.

"I'm so used to you barking at me about stupid things or insulting me in front of my friends. It's just going to take me a while to come to terms with the idea that you might be sort of normal and...maybe a little nice...sometimes."

The potion master felt pleased, but refused to show it. Remus had been right. Harry's face no longer looked pale and pasty. Severus counted this as a win.

"Would you like a strong tea to sooth your nerves?" tea was truly the answer to everything.

The boy nodded his head. "That would be great, but," he paused for a moment as he looked around the room, "not in here."

The room felt confining and in some irrational way now seemed to be linked to the bloodshed and violence he had witnessed in the vision. Harry was afraid it wold return if he did not get out of the room. The raven haired teacher seemed to understand how the boy felt and he stood, shaking out his robes.

"The Great Hall then?" the man asked.

"Yes, sir. That would be brilliant," Harry replied with a small smile.

* * *

The walk seemed shorter and less creepy with the older man's company, but the sound of staircases adjusting many floors above them still made the boy's spine tingle.

"Are there usually teachers here during the summer months?" Harry inquired.

"Occasionally, if a student requires it or if some other extenuating circumstance comes to light," the potion master replied.

"Oh," the tiny word echoed through the hallway.

Severus held his wand out before them, the small white orb at it's tip leading them forward. Harry's wand remained tucked up his sleeve.

"I did not realize that the dark lord's link to you was so active," the man said apologetically.

"Yeah. I get visions when he's really angry or really happy...or frustrated or...yeah. I get them a lot and he knows it." Harry shuddered.

"I will teach you occlumency. That might help to separate him from your dreams at the very least."

Harry smiled. "I would like that."

"As for the past regularity of the visions. I believe it goes without saying that none of that was your fault."

"But I - ."

"No." Severus interrupted firmly. "You are a child and the actions - the choices - of adults are not something that you can claim responsibility for no matter how many times you may think differently."

Harry bit his lip and was glad that he had drank the stomach calming potion, because the touchy subject was starting to make him nervous again. It was a great relief to hear someone give him the 'it's not your fault' speech, but he refused to take it to heart. By not feeling guilty it seemed to the boy that he was betraying those muggles that had been tortured and killed - like he was dismissing their sacrifice. Harry remained silent as they reached the ground floor.

Snape could see the conflicting emotions on the boy's face when he glanced over. Remus' voice echoed in his mind again and he chose to remain silent and not push the issue. There would be more time in the future to address the boy's misplaced guilt in the days and weeks to come.

Days and weeks. Merlin, he had a child to look after now. The potion master swallowed hard and his confident stride broke for a step before renewing. Harry was his child, his responsibility and he could only hope that he didn't mess up.

"What about my name?" The teenager's abrupt question filled the Great Hall as they entered past the double doors.

"What about it?"

"Well, if I'm not a Potter is my name Harry Snape now?" Harry asked, curious.

"In case you have forgotten, let me remind you that your mother was a Potter. You have just as much claim to that name. I will not force you to take my name I that is what you are worried about."

"Alright then." Harry felt mildly relieved.

It had been a long night for everyone concerned and the boy was glad that it was finally over. In a few more hours the sun would be up and the whole world would be different. No Dursleys, no chores, no summers away from his friends. There was a whole world of possibility that Harry intended to explore. He doubted it would be easy to live with Snape, at first anyway, but it was a welcomed change. The boy found himself smiling as he remembered the hug. His heart felt lighter, as if he was no longer carrying a heavy burden alone. He had help now. He had a dad.

Severus walked up the isle between the tables, his son at his side. Everything had changed in just a few short hours. He was no longer a death eater, no longer bound to the evil duties it had entailed, and he felt lighter than he had in years. There was even a bounce in his step, he was a bit disturbed by the realization. He allowed a smile to cross his face briefly. The future was bright, uncertain, but so very bright.

Father and son reached the end of the isle and ascended the short stairs leading to the head table. Everything was going to be alright.

The End.
Chapter End Notes:
Again, this is raw, so, I know it's got some issues. Please review. :).

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