The next time Harry opened his eyes, he saw the ceiling of the Hospital Wing and let out a soft groan. So it wasn’t a dream, he thought, I am in the Hospital Wing. “Harry?” he heard a soft voice on his left and felt someone squeeze his hand. He fumbled for his glasses, but they were gently placed on the bridge of his nose. Looking up, he saw Sirius. He looked so much better than when he’d last seen him at the end of last year. It was obvious he’d gained quite a bit of weight; his cheeks were no longer sunken and pale and he no longer had dark circles under his eyes. His hair was groomed into wild but tamed curls, and he was dressed in expensive muggle clothes that made him look like he belonged to a rock band from the 70s. Harry was pleased to note that he no longer looked like a madman, but a put-together member of society.
“Sirius?” Harry questioned, shocked. “What are you doing here?”
His godfather let out a small chuckle, but his eyes remained sad. “We’re here for you,” Harry looked over and saw Remus sitting on the other side of the bed. “Professor McGonagall told us you were here, so we came over right away. You’ve had us worried, pup.” He gave Harry’s messy curls a ruffle before grasping his hand again.
“How are you feeling Harry?” his former professor asked. Remus looked better too. He looked tired like he normally did the first few days after a full moon, but he was no longer in his worn, threadbare jacket. Instead, he was dressed smartly in a nice button-down with the sleeves rolled up to his forearms.
“Fine,” Harry replied automatically. Both of his just godfathers stared at him. “What? I really feel fin-“ he didn’t even finish his sentence, there was no point. “My stomach is sore,” he mumbled quietly, looking down at the white blanket covering his lap.
“Well that’s to be expected, Mr. Potter,” Madam Pomfrey said as came bustling over to check on her patient. “I did have to remove your spleen, but I have a pain potion for you. How’s your breathing?” She asked as she uncorked the potion vial and handed it over to him.
Harry took a deep breath in, “Fine, loads better than yesterday.” His answer was truthful this time, he knew better than to lie to the stern nurse. Madam Pomfrey gave a hum of agreement as she waved her wand to assess her patient. “Well Mr. Potter,” she said, “you’re doing far better than yesterday. You had a fractured rib that became dislodged and punctured your lung and your spleen. Luckily, I was able to repair your lung, but had to remove your spleen. You’ll have to stay here for the rest of the week for observation.”
“Don’t look at me like that,” she told him. Despite the fact that she was still staring at the diagnostic, she was still able to tell that he was frowning sullenly, Harry supposed it was a mediwitch’s intuition. She looked up at him and said, “Mr. Potter, you were gravely ill when you came in. If it weren’t for Mr. Malfoy and Professor Snape, you likely would’ve died.” Her tone was kind, but firm.
Harry, however, was unable to fully grasp the levity of the situation, only focusing on the fact that Malfoy and Snape, the two people who detested him the most at Hogwarts, saved his life. “Malfoy? Snape?” he spat, “As if I’d believe that prat or greasy git would ever do anything to help me.”
He took a deep breath to continue on his tirade against them when Remus placed a comforting hand on his shoulder, “They did save you Harry, and we will forever be in their debt. We could’ve lost you.” Both his and Sirius’s eyes filled with tears as they thought of what could’ve happened.
“Harry,” Sirius began, bracing himself for what he knew would be an unpleasant, but necessary conversation. “Why did you not tell us,pup? If you had sent a letter to either of us we would’ve been there in a heartbeat, you know that.” Harry just stared at his hands. Sensing that he wouldn’t say anything, Sirius continued, “Well, you’ll be living with Remus and me from now on, there will be no going back to the Dursleys.” Harry said nothing. He knew there was no point arguing, Dumbledore would find out and put his foot down, so next summer he’d wind up at number four again. Only this time it’d be so much worse because someone had found out the truth.
Panic filled his mind at the thought of what Uncle Vernon would do to him. He knew for a fact that the only time he would see the outside of his cupboard would be to do chores or for his punishments. This past summer would look like a breeze compared to what he would face. Suddenly he felt his vision blur as his head spun. He felt a bottle being held to his lips and drank upon hearing the insistent order. A few moments later he felt the world slow down and his breathing ease.
“There, there Mr. Potter,” he heard Madam Pomfrey’s voice, softer than he was used to. “Now, there’s no need to worry yourself out, it will all be taken care of.” His mind wanted to rebel against that idea, he knew it wouldn’t be taken care of, but at that moment he found himself unable to worry.
After giving him a few moments to calm down, he finally looked up at her. “Sorry,” he stated as he tucked his head in embarrassment.
“There is nothing to be sorry for, Mr. Potter,” she informed him as he looked back up into the concerned eyes of his godfathers. He gave a slight nod but was still slightly embarrassed. “We do have one more matter to discuss. When we ran your diagnostic report, we discovered that someone placed a glamour on you shortly after you were born.” Harry made no reply, only glanced at her in confusion, not understanding what she was saying. “A glamour, Mr. Potter, is a wide-ranging spell that can be used to alter appearance. It can be as minor as covering a pimple or an unfortunate tattoo,” she told him, with a side glance towards Sirius. “Or it can entirely alter someone’s appearance, much like the Polyjuice potion, but can last far longer than an hour. In fact, if the caster is powerful enough, it can last indefinitely.”
“So, someone did this to me? When I was just a baby?” he asked, still not understanding. “But why, why would anyone do that?”
“We don’t know, Harry,” Remus told him. “Your parents never mentioned anything of the sort to either of us.”
“With your permission, Mr. Potter, I’d like to remove the glamour,” Madam Pomfrey said.
“What will happen when you do?”
“We’re not sure, pup,” Sirius grasped his hand. “The report didn’t say what the glamour did, just that one had been cast, and none of us were even aware of it, so there's really no telling.” Harry searched his godfather’s eyes looking for guidance. Seeing nothing but support, no matter what his decision, he nodded and Madame Pomfrey lifted her wand to undo the glamour. Nothing could’ve prepared them for what was to come.
HPSSHPSSHPSSHPSSHPSS
Severus was having a miserable morning. After he finally managed to drift off last night, he was awoken not two hours later with a nightmare of Lily’s tear-streaked face asking how he could let her son be abused. That was around three AM and he didn’t even bother trying to get more sleep afterwards. So, he simply poured himself two large cups of black coffee at breakfast and prepared himself for the day to come.
His first period had been uneventful, it was a 7th-year NEWT class, so the students knew what they were doing and actually wanted to be there. His second class of the day was an entirely different story, however. It was a combined Gryffindor Slytherin fifth-year class. Why Dumbledore always insisted on placing those two houses in Potions together he would never understand. Because what else do volatile potions and complete dunderheads need, oh yes house rivalries.
He set his mouth into a deep scowl as he surveyed the room, a warning to any students who dared to step even a toe out of line. He walked around the room, making sure that no one was adding ingredients that would lead to explosions. “What do you think this is supposed to be Ms. Harris?” he asked, looming behind the fifth-year Gryffindor.
“A-a strengthening solution,” she squeaked out, grasping the lacewing flies she was supposed to add.
“And what will happen if you add that ingredient before it turns the correct shade of blue?” She made no reply, terrified to look up at her dreaded professor. “Well?” he asked impatiently. When he saw that she would not reply, he addressed the rest of the class, “Would anyone with half a brain cell care to inform Ms. Harris what will happen if she adds the lacewing flies?” He nodded at a Slytherin to answer.
“It will explode, Professor,” Mr. Hughes answered.
“Five points to Slytherin. As Mr. Hughes so kindly informed you, it will explode,” he hissed at the girl. “Evanesco. Since you clearly did not come to class prepared, you will get a zero. Now get out of my classroom.” She scampered to put her books away and leave, not wanting to anger him further.
Severus continued to prowl around the class, subtly and quietly correcting the Slytherins where necessary, and mocking the Gryffindors when the door burst open and a voice shouted, “Stupefy.” Snape, having quick reflexes from his time in the war, ducked out of the way before turning around and seeing Black standing at the entrance to his classroom.
“What do you think you’re doing?” He roared, darting out of the way of another hex the mutt fired his way.
“What did you do to my godson?” Sirius blocked the Expelliarmus levied at him. “You’ll set him to rights this instant Snivellous.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about, Black. Why would I harm Potter after going to great lengths to save him last night?” Severus fired a Reducto at him which crashed against his potion's ingredients as Sirius ducked to avoid it.
“You’ve always had it out for him, all because of his father James,” Sirius replied, sending an Expulso towards his rival. Snape made no answer, knowing that it was fruitless to argue with the mutt when he was this worked up. Sometime in the previous minute they had been dueling, the students had cleared out of the room. As he dove behind a classroom table, he was pleased to note that one of them had vanished all of the potions before they left.
His nostrils flared at the scent of burning wood and he jumped up to see Sirius igniting the table on fire. He quickly cast an Aguamenti before the rest of the classroom caught flame, “I see you lost what little insanity you possessed in Azkaban, Black.” Sirius only growled in reply and cast another curse at him.
The two continued to battle like that for the next five minutes, throwing spells back and forth and destroying even more of Snape's classroom. They were both startled when they heard a voice shout “Expelliarmus,” and found themselves both disarmed. “What is going on here?” the voice asked a threat underlying the gentle tone.
Neither man glanced away from where they were glaring at each other. “Ask the mutt,” Snape spat. “I was teaching my class when he came barging into my classroom and started attacking me.”
“He cursed Harry, I had to.” Severus scoffed and crossed his arms, knowing full well he did no such thing.
“And where is Mr. Potter?” Albus asked. Neither man replied to that, not wanting the Headmaster to become involved and insist that Harry go back to the Dursleys. “Well?”
Seeing that Sirius would make no reply and Dumbledore wouldn’t give up, Severus finally replied, “He’s in the infirmary.”
“No thanks to you,” Sirius muttered.
“You’re right, without me, he’d be in a casket,” Snape glared at him, his lip curling.
Albus’s expression grew concerned, “What happened to Mr. Potter?” Finally, seeing that neither man would answer, he suggested that they head up to the infirmary, being sure to stay between the both of them on the way there.
HPSSHPSSHPSSHPSS
Snape had no idea what Black was raging on about when he burst into his classroom. He knew the man was delusional and assumed that Sirius undoubtedly got some crazy plot in his head that involved him and the Potter brat. Child, he corrected himself. After learning what he did he would need to stop referring to him as a spoiled brat. However, he was unprepared for the scene that awaited him as the trio entered the Hospital Wing.
Potter was sitting on the bed with his face buried in his hands as Lupin tried to comfort him. Meanwhile, Minerva and Poppy were talking to Kingsley and the young witch with bright pink hair next to him whom Severus assumed with Nymphadora Tonks. It seemed that she kept the same proclivity for colorful hair as she had when they were at school together.
“Kingsley, Nymphadora” Albus said, sounding surprised. “What brings you to Hogwarts today?”
“It’s Tonks, Headmaster. Wotcher Severus, Sirius,” the animagus interrupted before Kingsley could reply. Snape scowled in response to her grin. Clearly, she was still as obnoxiously cheery as she had been sixteen years ago.
“It’s good to see you, Headmaster,” Kingsley’s deep voice greeted. “Severus asked us to come today, apparently there’s an issue regarding Mr. Potter’s home life that needs to be addressed.”
Albus glanced at Severus, his eyes lacking their usual twinkle. In fact, the spy could’ve sworn he detected a hint of fury in his gaze for a moment before it was replaced with its usual grandfatherly expression. “Ah Severus my boy, I’m surprised you took an interest in Harry’s home life. If you had cause for concern, why did you not come to me first?”
“Really Albus, you’re the one that sent him back to that house to be abused.” Potter let out a strangled cry at his godfather's livid, but true, words and looked up from his hands and Severus felt all the blood drain from his face. Harry no longer looked like Potter Senior, instead, he looked like Snape. Well, not completely identical, but instead a perfect combination of him and Lily. His hair straightened which caused it to lengthen out and lay neater. His face had elongated and he had Lily’s nose and mouth, but the hateful glare he was sending towards Snape right now was purely Severus.
“Set him right, Snape,” he heard Sirius growl next to him. He could make no answer though. His gaze was locked on Harry’s and he felt as if he had seen a ghost.
The longer he looked at him though, the angrier Snape grew. How dare Potter, he thought. What kind of trick did the brat think he was playing at. “Is this some kind of joke, Potter?” he said, stalking over towards the boy. “Think it's funny, do you? Dress up as the hated potions professor and mock my relationship with your mother.” He looked down to see him cowering behind Remus. Severus gulped and took a step back realizing that he’d let his temper get the better of him. He hadn’t meant to scare the boy, he just wanted answers, and with that thought he turned around and directed his most menacing glare at the wizard in bright purple robes.
“Tell me you had nothing to do with this Albus.” The headmaster made no reply and couldn’t meet his gaze. In reality, Severus didn’t need an answer. In his bones, he already knew. This was no prank the marauders were playing on him, the boy was his son, his and Lily’s. He gulped, too terrified to let the implications of that truth sink in and drew his wand on Albus, his arm shaking. “Tell me what you did.” The old man still did not answer, “Tell me now Albus, or I swear I will tear apart every inch of this castle looking for the truth, and you may not like what secrets come to light.”
“Professor Dumbledore,” Harry’s voice shook as he quietly spoke up. “What’s going on? Do you-do you know why I look like-” he gulped, unable to finish his sentence. “Why I look like-“ but he was still unable to finish, clearly too traumatized to even say the words aloud Snape thought.
“Yes Albus, why does he look like me?” Snape menaced, his wand still pointed at the headmaster who was now looking a little wary of his spymaster.
“Harry, Professor Snape is your father. He and your mother, Lily, were married in secret and had you. Not long after you were born, he became a spy for me, so to protect you and your mother from Voldemort we altered his memories and James pretended to be your father instead.” Severus closed his eyes, letting Albus’s words sink in as everyone around him erupted in disbelief. The mutt let out a string of profanity as Remus tried to calm him, Minerva and Poppy spoke hurriedly to each other in low voices, and Kingsley and Tonks stared at each other in disbelief. Severus however, was oblivious to all of it. The moment he saw Potter-no, Harry, he reminded himself-he had suspected, but to hear those words spoken aloud was an entirely different matter. Lily was his. She was his wife and they had a son together. He needed time to process, and he would not be able to do that here.
“Where are they, Albus? Where are my memories?” Dumbledore finally met his gaze, for the first time since they’d seen Harry. He saw regret there, but it was mixed with pride and determination and Severus knew that the leader of the light would make the same decisions again. With a flick of his wand, Albus summoned the shimmering vial of memories and handed them over to Severus along with a letter. Snape snatched both out of his hand, fixed him with one last glare, and stormed out of the hospital wing, his robes billowing behind him.
Chapter 6