The rest of the summer had seemed to pass slowly, but the night before he caught the Hogwarts Express to Hogwarts for the last time, Harry could not believe how quickly it had gone. He had eventually been allowed to leave the Dursleys and spent the last two weeks of the holidays at Order Headquarters in London. It had been a relief to get away from his cousin’s cringing, his uncle’s purple face, and his aunt’s knowing looks.

It was no longer quite so painful to go to Sirius’s old home, but Harry could not help wondering what his beloved godfather would have said had he known the truth about Harry’s paternity. Harry chastised himself for that thought, James was his father. James had been the one to care for him and his mother. Snape had been nothing but an interloper who took advantage of his mother in her moment of weakness. The turmoil Harry was trying so valiantly to suppress spilled over into his behavior and he found himself constantly having to work not to snap unnecessarily at his friends.

Thankfully Harry had not seen his potions master during his stay at Grimmauld Place. Otherwise, Harry was quite certain, he would have cheerfully cursed the man for being the cause of his terrible confusion. Eventually, however, with the help of his friends who continually tried to cheer him up, despite not knowing what was wrong, Harry managed to bury all the unpleasant ruminations that had been plaguing him since his birthday. He stopped thinking about the letter more than once or twice a day, and he began once again to believe in James and by the end of break he was almost his old self again.

Harry had been nervous when he returned to Hogwarts and had spent the entire sorting and much of the following feast shooting apprehensive glances up at the head table where his f—professor sat. Hermione kept watching him and asked several times if he was okay. Harry insisted that he was fine, just a little tired, and by the end of the evening he felt he could stand whatever Snape could throw at him in class.

Severus had noticed Harry’s attention and sneered. Clearly the brat was looking for some sign of reaction from him; Potter wanted to know that he had rattled his victim. Severus vowed that he would get no such pleasure and focused all his formidable dramatic skill on pretending that he was perfectly normal and had nothing on his mind but his current annoyance with the mass of students sitting in the Great Hall as a whole. The Brat-Who-Lived was in for a nasty surprise.

In Potions class, which Harry was dismayed to find that he had the first day, Severus was surprised to see that they boy was back to his usual behavior, namely glaring every time he felt Snape’s eyes watching him and flailing about in a hopeless attempt to concoct the assigned potion or a reasonable facsimile.

When Harry strode up to the front to place his sample on the desk Snape came up behind him. “Mr. Potter,” he said, laying an odd stress on the last name, “See me after class, I believe there is something we need to discuss.”

Harry glowered a little but said, “Yes, sir,” in a fair approximation of respect.

A few minutes’ time found the pair standing in an otherwise deserted classroom. “You wanted to see me, professor?” Harry asked.

“I thought you would be interested to know that I received your letter,” Severus replied, barely restraining a smirk.

“Received my letter?” Harry repeated, “What do you mean, what are you talking about?”

A tiny bit of panic crept into the young man’s voice and Snape thought, gotcha. “Why the letter you sent me, of course, Mr. Potter,” this time as Snape carefully pronounced ‘Potter’ he smirked viciously.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Harry exclaimed. “I didn’t send you any letters!”

“Then you can hazard no explanation for the missive I received just two weeks after your coming of age which claimed to be from your father, excuse me, I meant James Potter,” Snape corrected himself with a toothy, predatory grin.

“You got a letter from James?” Harry asked, paling dramatically.

Severus quirked an eyebrow at the response. “Yes,” he replied. “It was most…informative.”

Harry paled even further, his face turning a sort of pasty gray, and for a moment Severus thought that the youth would pass out, but though Harry clutched a chair for balance, he did not go down. The silence stretched for a moment before Harry said, “If you’re trying to accuse me of playing some sort of prank on you, let me assure you nothing could be farther from the truth. As a matter of fact I received a rather nasty hoax letter myself. I didn’t find it the least bit amusing, and I certainly didn’t send anything at all to you.”

Severus was dumbfounded. If this wasn’t Potter’s attempt at a joke, what was it? Certainly it couldn’t be real? Severus searched Harry’s face, looking for a clue to some other explanation.

“Why would James write to you?” Harry asked softly. “Surely it’s not true?” he asked, voice full of distaste.

“What’s not true?” Snape snapped.

“I got a letter which claimed to be from my mother. It said that I was not her husband’s son,” Harry admitted in a near whisper. Severus snarled and whirled away from the youth before him to drop into his chair. “It is then?” Harry murmured.

“I have no intention of suddenly becoming you best friend,” Snape snarled.

“Good,” Harry bit out, “because it’s a bit late to suddenly acquire a parent.”

“We’re agreed then,” Snape said cautiously, “we go our separate ways and pretend none of this happened.” Harry nodded sharply in agreement. “Very well, Potter, you’re dismissed.”

“Yes, sir,” Harry replied and stalked out of the classroom as fast as he could.