Aunt Petunia's cold shrill voice and brisk knocks at his door woke Harry from his restless sleep bright and early the next morning.

"Get up boy and start making breakfast!"

He vaguely heard her unlocking all the locks on his door, then with one final emphasized knock, she walked away, marching back down stairs.

Harry rubbed a hand down his face, groaning at the harsh sunlight against his eyes. He laid there for a moment, simply blinking up at the ceiling, before everything that happened yesterday seemed to come flooding back to him. After reaching for his glasses and shoving them onto his face, Harry glanced toward his desk, and saw that the letter he'd received last night was still there, where he'd left it.

A confirmation that it hadn't all been simply a dream.

Snape was his father.

They had once been a happy family, evident from the photos and his mother's letter...

Apparently, Snape was capable of showing emotions other than annoyance, irritation, and hatred.

Never in a million years would Harry have believed Snape could to be so... human, if he hadn't seen those photos for himself.

It had kept him up most of the night, everything he'd learnt spinning around in his mind. He still found all this difficult to wrap his head around.

Though Harry knew, without a doubt, that the man seen in the photos— actually smiling, and openly showing affection for Harry's younger self— was not the same man he was presently familiar with.

The current Snape seemed to absolutely loath Harry with a burning passion.

And he probably doesn't want anything to do with me.

But if he did... For a brief moment, Harry allowed himself to imagine the man barging in on his relatives, to take him away from this place— like those fantasies he'd dreamt of as a kid locked in his cupboard— before he scoffed, shoving the thought away.

Then again, maybe his father would approve of the way the Dursleys treated him.

What a suitable way to knock the attention seeking rule breaker down a few pegs...

Harry sighed heavily, pushing his sheets back, then gently lifted his legs over the edge of the bed and stood, careful not to jostle his back too much. He glanced down at his bloodstained shirt, and quickly decided he needed to change. After rummaging in his dresser, he settled on one of Dudley's old shirts with a hole in the armpit area that was at least a bit of a better fit than most of his other hand me downs. With his clothes in hand, Harry quickly headed straight for the bathroom, glad it was unoccupied.

Then, as carefully as he could, Harry pulled the ruined shirt up over his head slowly and grimaced as some of the crusty scabs from the wounds came off with it. Taking a moment to assess his battered body in the mirror, he noted the bruises that ran down the front of his chest and along his sides. His back was worse; discolored bruises, raised welts, and red lines littered his skin. There were hardly any parts of his upper body that wasn't discolored, black or blue. It was as if he'd went through a jungle and barely made it out alive.

Harry drew in a deep breath then raised a hand over his injuries, concentrating hard as he cast a strong glamour to conceal all his bruises and welts. He watched as his skin smoothed over, appearing unblemished once again.

Wouldn't want anyone to find out how the hero of the wizarding world really looks, Harry thought bitterly.

Ever since the first time Uncle Vernon had decided to punish him a few days before he was due back at Hogwarts, Harry had made a point of looking for a spell in the library to cover up the damage done. Now he could practically cast it in his sleep, having done so on himself many times since that it'd become second nature. It was the only spell that Harry could perform wandlessly, and he figured it went undetected by the Ministry since they only seemed to track his wand.

After checking that all his bruises were covered, Harry left the bathroom and went downstairs as fast as he could, knowing he needed to start cooking their breakfast before Aunt Petunia decided to extend his already long list of chores for the day just because Harry had kept them waiting too long.

If there was a day where he really wished the Dursleys would completely ignore his existence, it would be today, especially after last night.

And of course, it was another sweltering day.

After Harry had finished making lunch, Aunt Petunia had locked him out of the house, ordering him to trim the hedges and clean up the flower beds.

The aching in his body was hindering his progress though, and Harry felt as if he was working at a snail's pace. He was sweating, the heat from the afternoon sun making his back feel as if it was burning. Wanting some relief from the harsh rays, Harry sought shelter under the shade of the large oak tree when he noticed that Aunt Petunia and Dudley were now watching the telly with their backs toward him.

He settled on the grass and pulled his knees up to his chest, wrapping his arms loosely around them. Usually the chores helped take his mind off of things, but today his body seemed to be have been working automatically while his thoughts kept revolving around his mother's letter and those photographs sitting on his desk.

Harry couldn't help wondering if maybe there was still a piece of the loving father from the photos hidden behind all the sneering and glaring of the Snape he knew today.

And the man would have found out the truth the same time Harry did... His mother did mention that she'd sent a letter to Snape as well...

Perhaps, it would be different, once Snape learned the truth... Just maybe...

Or maybe he'll deny it and laugh in my face for believing such stupidity, Harry thought as he absently tore up a fist full of grass and started ripping them to shreds.

He flinched when a brown tawny owl suddenly landed next to him, effectively pulling him from his thoughts, the wind from its feathers ruffling Harry's already messy black hair. The owl gazed up at him, giving a soft hoot as it stretched its leg out, signaling for Harry to take the letter tied to it.

"Thanks," Harry said when he'd done so, and after responding with another hoot, the owl took off into the distance.

Harry glanced in the direction of his aunt and cousin, ascertaining that their attention was still focused on the telly before proceeding to open the letter addressed to him.

Harry,

I will be arriving at Privet Drive tomorrow to retrieve you from the Dursley's. Due to the recent circumstances that have come to light, you will no longer have to stay with your relatives. 

Please be prepared to leave tomorrow morning when I arrive. I will explain everything to you then.

Yours sincerely,

Albus Dumbledore

Harry blinked, rereading the short letter again.

A whirlwind of questions sped through his mind.

Dumbledore was coming to take him away tomorrow? He wouldn't have to live with the Dursley's anymore?

Then where was he going to stay? And most importantly, who was he going to live with?

The letter did seem incredibly vague, but nonetheless, Harry was more than happy knowing he was going to be leaving.

Then another thought occurred to him...

Does Dumbledore know Snape is Harry's father? Is that why Harry wouldn't need to live with his relatives anymore?

Why else would Harry get to leave the Dursleys and the blood wards surrounding Privet Drive?

It certainly seemed the most logical explanation Harry could come up with, and surprisingly, he found a part of himself hoping that he was right.

All he'd ever wanted was for someone to care about him, like what parents did that their kids seemed to take for granted. Someone who he could trust and be able to go to when he had problems, instead of always trying to figure it out on his own.

Though Harry couldn't see Snape willingly agreeing to take him in...

Was Dumbledore going to force Harry onto another person that didn't want him?

Well I'll just try my best not to screw this up, he thought, not realizing how desperate he sounded.

The next morning couldn't have come any sooner, and Harry was staring down at his few measly possessions he'd laid out on his bed that he was going to take with him, along with some clothes he'd packed that were at least in decent condition.

It wasn't much. His photo album he'd received from Hagrid and the letter from his mother including the pictures that came with it, were among the few precious items he owned. Everything else was still padlocked away in his trunk downstairs, hidden in his cupboard by Uncle Vernon immediately after Harry had set foot back in the house.

Harry sat a bit anxiously on edge of his bed, occasionally glancing out the window, waiting for anything that signaled Dumbledore's arrival.

The short letter he'd received didn't specify a time— it just said morning.

So Harry had been up since before dawn waiting, having not been able to sleep for long anyway, his mind consumed with thoughts of where he would stay for the rest of the summer. And Harry knew the blood wards only worked with living relatives...

And again, Harry wondered how Snape took the news to their relationship.

Did he believe it? Did he restore his memories that his mother had mentioned?

Harry would give anything to view those memories and to be able to remember something, anything, of his mother, other than her screams and pleads for his life.

The doorbell rang then, drawing Harry from his thoughts, and he went to his bedroom door, pressing his ear against it. A few seconds later, Harry could hear bits and pieces of Aunt Petunia's "What are you doing here?!" and Uncle Vernon's "Your kind are not welcome in my home! You cannot enter!" Harry imagined Uncle Vernon blocking the doorway, no doubt wanting to slam the door in Dumbledore's face. But soon, everything fell silent, an indication that his relatives had lost the battle and Dumbledore had indeed entered the house.

Harry had decided not to mention beforehand that the headmaster of his school was going to pay them a visit and take him away. It would save him from his aunt and uncle's imminent fit they'd have if Harry told them a wizard would be visiting their perfect home the next day. Though afterwards, they would probably celebrate that Harry was leaving for good. It had been expressed too many times to count that Harry was unwanted here, and that they were eager to be rid of their burden.

When he heard brisk footsteps coming up the stairs, Harry jumped back from the door and retook his seat on his bed. There was a brief fiddling and clicking of the numerous locks, then the door creaked open and Aunt Petunia peered in with a sour expression on her face.

"Someone's here for you," she said.

"Alright."

Harry followed her downstairs and to the sitting room.

The sight that met him was quite laughable.

Dumbledore was wearing a long black traveling cloak and a colorful pointed hat, seated in a multicolored armchair placed in the middle of the sitting room and taking everything in with mild interest. He looked ridiculously out of place.

Sitting on the couch across the room from him was Uncle Vernon, his face beet red, a vein pulsing dangerously on his temple while Dudley was trying to press himself as much as he could into the cushions, his hands underneath his overlarge behind. Neither said a word to Harry as he entered the room, though when Uncle Vernon turned his beady eyes to him, he looked as if he was about to say something, but then thought better of it, pursing his lips. Aunt Petunia joined the pair on the couch and wrapped an arm around Dudley's trembling shoulders.

The tension in the room could have been cut through with a knife.

"Ah, good morning, Harry," Dumbledore said pleasantly as he looked up at Harry through his half-moon spectacles. "Or, I should say, good afternoon."

Harry glanced at the clock on the mantle and realized it was just past noon, much later than he realized.

"Good afternoon, Professor," he replied politely, taking a seat in the remaining armchair close to the fire.

"I apologize for my slight tardiness," said Dumbledore, smiling. "How are you, Harry?"

"Fine, sir," Harry said automatically.

Aunt Petunia cleared her throat impatiently. "Can we get on with it?" she said sharply.

"Of course, Mrs. Dursley. Harry is no longer required to stay here," Dumbledore said, getting straight to the point. "He will be leaving with me today and will not be returning."

"Good riddance!" Uncle Vernon exclaimed, crossing his arms across his large form. "Was a no good waste of space anyway."

Dumbledore cleared his throat, then pierced Aunt Petunia with a disapproving look. "I had hoped that you would treat your nephew like your own when I left him in your care. Lily was your sister. No matter the differences between you two, she would have wanted you to have treated her son better than you have."

Aunt Petunia humphed, not at all affected by Dumbledore's disapproval. "We never wanted him, he was nothing more than a burden. Nothing more than an abnormal freak. As if we could ever have grown to love him."

Harry frowned, feeling as if he had been punched in the stomach. Of course he'd always known what his relatives had thought of him, but to hear it said so bluntly... it hurt. Especially coming from Aunt Petunia because he was related by blood to her, she was his mother's sister after all.

Dumbledore turned to Harry. "Go retrieve your belongings, Harry. I will be up shortly. We need to discuss a few matters before we leave."

"Yes, sir."

Harry stood, giving one last look at the Dursleys before he left the room, feeling their eyes following him out.

Back in his room, Harry sat back down on his bed to wait for Dumbledore, his eyes drifting down to the letter on the bed beside him.

Not a minute later, Dumbledore came in, giving a quick glance around the room before he shut the door behind him.

"All right Harry, we need to discuss your new living arrangements," Dumbledore started as he went to pulled out the old chair in front of Harry's desk and took a seat in it, "I have received a letter from your mother."

Harry gave a slight nod and Dumbledore continued, "She informed me of your relationship to Professor Snape, and he has agreed to let you stay with him for the rest of the summer."

Harry blinked, wondering if he'd heard right... Snape had agreed to let Harry stay with him?

That tiny bit of hope flared up again.

Maybe he remembered, maybe he doesn't hate me anymore... Or not that much...

"I'm afraid I have wronged you, Harry," Dumbledore said breaking Harry out of his thoughts. "It seems it was a terrible idea to leave you in the care of the Dursleys, but I had thought it was the best option at the time. Petunia is your mother's sister, I had hoped she would treat you as if you were her own. I had thought that it was for the best to leave you with the only family you had left. However, the Dursleys were never family, were they?"

"No, sir. They never treated me as part of their family," Harry said softly.

"I apologize, Harry," Dumbledore said, his blue eyes dimmed as he gave Harry's shoulder a quick squeeze.

Harry dropped his gaze to his hands that were resting on his lap, and nodded, not knowing how to respond. He didn't know whether he should feel angry at Dumbledore for leaving him here in the first place or for making him come back every summer, despite Harry's pleads to let him stay at Hogwarts. But he supposed the blood wards were too important...

"Hopefully, with this new arrangement you will receive what you have been missing."

Again Harry just nodded, not knowing what to say.

"I am pleased to have found out, my boy," Dumbledore said, causing Harry to look at him with surprise. There was a smile on his face, the twinkling returning to his blue eyes. "I am aware you and Severus had never got along in the past, but please try to Harry. There is no one I trust more to keep you safe."

"Does he even want me as a son?" Harry blurted out before he could stop himself. He desperately wished he could pluck the words out of the air and stuff them back in.

Dumbledore hesitated as if contemplating his response, "Just be optimistic, Harry. It will be a rough road ahead but it will not be like that forever."

I'll take that as a no. 

But he should have already expected that.

"Never give up hope," Dumbledore said as if sensing Harry's thoughts.

"Professor, how's Remus?" Harry had wanted to know for a while how his former professor was fairing, now that the last of his best friends was gone. He had to look away as the familiar feeling of guilt crept into his mind once again.

"Everything is fine. Remus is on a mission and should return shortly," Dumbledore replied, then he laced his fingers together. "There is also another matter rather important matter we need to discuss, before we depart." When he saw that he had Harry's full attention, he continued, "I have discovered very valuable information that will be crucial to winning this war."

"Does it have something to do with Voldemort, sir?" Harry asked, now intrigued at what Dumbledore was about to reveal to him. After being left in the dark for most of his fifth year, Harry was glad that Dumbledore was now at least including him in the war effort.

About time, if I'm going to be the one that actually has to defeat him.

"Yes, it is. You will be taking private lessons with me this year," said Dumbledore. "The information is very sensitive and not to be shared with the likes of anyone. I will inform you when term resumes. For now, you should enjoy the rest of the summer."

"Alright, sir," Harry said. "Has there been any incidents recently with Voldemort or his Death Eaters?"

"He is recruiting more followers at the moment. There has also been a few Death Eater attacks on Muggles, but none that we could not handle. Voldemort has not made an appearance, but that will likely change as I have been informed that he is planning an attack. This is why you need to stay safe Harry, do not leave the blood wards without Severus," Dumbledore said seriously.

Harry nodded to show that he understood the severity of the situation.

"Well then, shall we be on our way?" Dumbledore stood up and pushed the chair back into place.

Harry picked up the little things he had laid out on his bed. "Um, sir? My trunk is locked in the cupboard under the stairs. Could you unlock it for me?"

"Of course, Harry," Dumbledore said as he went out the door, Harry following behind.

Once downstairs, Dumbledore opened the cupboard and levitated his trunk out. With a flick of his wand, he banished the many chains on the outside of it. After Harry put the rest of his things in the trunk, Dumbledore shrunk it, so that Harry could easily slip it into his jean pocket.

"Do you have all your belongings?"

"Yes, sir. I'm all set," Harry replied.

"Any last words to your relatives before we take our leave?" Dumbledore said as he peered over his half-moon spectacles at the three Dursleys, who still haven't moved from their places on the couch.

Harry shook his head. "No, sir."

"Very well." Dumbledore steered Harry toward the door. Before they stepped foot outside, Dumbledore waved his wand over the both of them, and Harry felt a cold tingling sensation running through him, from the top of his head down to his feet.

"Disillusionment Charm," Dumbledore said simply.

Once outside, Harry paused to take one last look at the only home he had ever known before turning his back on it for good.

"This way." Dumbledore started walking in a brisk pace with Harry managing to keep in step beside him.

"Where does he live, Professor?" Harry asked.

"I believe you will find out soon enough," Dumbledore replied as they turned the corner onto Magnolia Crescent and soon arrived in an narrow alleyway. With one last look around, he held out his arm, "Take my arm, Harry."

Harry did so and the next thing he knew, everything went black. He found it difficult to draw in a breath, feeling as if he was being squeezed through a tight tube. Then just as suddenly, the feeling ceased, and his feet touched solid ground. If it wasn't for his hold on Dumbledore's arm, he would have fallen over.

"Did we just Apparate?" Harry asked, once his head had stopped spinning.

"Yes, and you did quite well," Dumbledore smiled. "Most people vomit the first time."

"Yeah, I think I'll just stick to flying," Harry muttered, leaning forward with his hands on his knees.

Once he wasn't overcome with nausea, Harry straightened and realized that the dark alley was gone, and they were now standing before the front gates to an enormous, beautiful manor.