Harry had sat, fidgeting, for what seemed like an age before Dumbledore distracted him. The old man had merely watched for a while, as Harry chewed his fingernails, muttered angrily to himself, twiddled his thumbs, picked at the material of his robes and generally worked himself into a nervous frenzy.

Eventually, the Headmaster had cleared his throat, which had the effect of making Harry jump nervously. Dumbledore forced Harry to relax by practicing more Occulmency with him.

Harry threw himself into it, desperately trying to forget that soon Snape would be coming back with the potion, and found it remarkably easy to be able to sink into a state of absolute calm, of non-awareness, his mind drifting high above the clouds into the blue sky, flying free with nothing to worry about.

Dumbledore beamed at him in delight when he first achieved this state of mind, congratulating him on his fast progress. “Well, Harry, the mind shield I am currently holding over your mind is tiring me more than I thought it would. You have made such good progress that I think I will let it drop.” Seeing Harry’s mixed pleased and doubtful look, he quickly added. “However, you must promise me that you will clear your mind faithfully each night before sleeping, and at all times try to keep your most dangerous thoughts locked away.”

Harry nodded, and then closed his eyes as Dumbledore removed the spell. Although he could not feel a difference in his head, he knew that the protection was gone and it both frightened and elated the boy that he was now trusted to defend himself against Voldemort’s attacks.

Just as Dumbledore was about to speak, Snape burst back into the room, a vial of the translucent potion in his hand.

“Ah, Severus.”

“Headmaster, this test is completely unnecessary. There is no possible way that…”

Dumbledore interrupted. “Severus, my boy, I know your feelings, but let an old man be satisfied, hmm?”

He did not wait for an answer but turned to Harry. “If you could give me your arm? I presume you know what I must do?”

Harry was shaking with nerves now, but extended his arm and allowed the old man to add some of his blood to the potion. As if in a daze, he watched as Snape briskly did the same.

As the mounting tension filled the room, the potion turned red.

For a moment there was silence, and then – uproar.

Harry gasped audibly and stumbled backwards until his legs hit a chair and he sat abruptly. Dumbledore remained staring at the potion in disbelief, not noticing as Severus advanced on Harry.

Unwisely, Harry spoke. “You’re my…You’re my…”

Snape roared in anger. “I am nothing to you, boy! I am disgusted at the very thought of being in any way connected to you! You are a disgrace, a snivelling, pathetic wretch who goes through life causing havoc and then blaming others for his pitiful mistakes. You cause nothing but heartache, Potter!”

Seeing Harry’s shocked face, Snape seemed to grow even more enraged and both his tone and words grew more vicious. His face was contorted in absolute hatred as he raged at the boy. “What did you expect? Did you want me to fall weeping at your feet, demanding forgiveness and begging for you to let me hold you in my arms, pleading with you to call me ‘Daddy’? Well you’ll be disappointed! Do you think I’m stupid, that I would even consider coming close to you? Everyone close to you dies Potter – probably because you’re so hopelessly arrogant that they can’t stand the sight of you. Your parents – dead. Your precious godfather – dead. Your little werewolf friend – missing.”

Harry stood frozen in shock, but the last sentence affected him like none other.

No, no, no, no… Snape is right – everybody I know dies, I’m a worthless, stupid child…

Belatedly Harry realised Snape was echoing his own thought processes. “You worthless, imbecilic, menace!”

Just as the Headmaster’s voice boomed throughout the Office, “SEVERUS SNAPE!” Harry turned and fled, hardly noticing the tears streaming down his cheeks.

Not even aware of where he was fleeing to, Harry gasped out the password to Remus’ rooms and collapsed inside. Suddenly, Snape’s words hit him.

Your little werewolf friend – missing.”

An agonised sob escaped the boy. Remus was missing while on his mission for Dumbledore! Harry felt a wave of unadulterated need for Remus rise up inside him, and suddenly it felt like the walls of the room were stifling him. Too many memories of Remus were here - he couldn’t be here, not when Remus couldn’t be there with him.

Choking back more tears, Harry stumbled to his feet, and made his way towards the Gryffindor Common Room. He had a sudden desire to see his friends, do get some comfort from those who would not shout at him and belittle him but would just be there for him.

Staggering through the Portrait Hole, hearing the concerned questions of the Fat Lady in his ears, he stood in the entrance to the Common Room and looked for his friends. The Common Room was nearly empty, and he realised that it was pretty late in the evening. They were over by the fire, but before he could cross over to them, Dean Thomas looked up from his game of chess with Seamus.

“Harry!” He exclaimed.

Suddenly, all eyes were upon him, and Harry suddenly realised what a sight he must look – eyes bloodshot, face tearstained, hair rumpled more than usual. Ron and Hermione leapt up and each grabbed an arm, leading him over to the sofa next to the fire. Ron took one look at his stricken expression and turned to the rest of the Gryffindors, bellowing, “Right! Everyone out, time for bed! Let us have some space here!”

Whether out of deference for his obvious distress, or from fear of Ron, Harry didn’t know, but the room emptied fast, leaving only Harry, Ron and Hermione.

It was Hermione that spoke. “Harry, what’s wrong?”

Harry broke then, and burst into great wracking sobs, tears pouring down his face as the string of agonised words left his mouth. He couldn’t seem to string a coherent sentence together, so took some deep breaths before trying again, focusing on the warmth of his two friends, one on either side of him.

Both of them were mercifully silent, giving him some time to recollect himself. Ron was gripping him arm tightly, while Hermione was hugging him and between the two of them he managed to calm down enough to speak.

Tears were rolling down his face as he told them that Snape was his father, and about all the things the man had said. Harry couldn’t stop the tears falling as he grappled with his pain. “All my life, you know, my parents have been dead. It hurt, yes, but I always could imagine them, up there, watching over me. I used to imagine how much they loved me, and it always comforted me. But now I know that it’s not true. I have a father, an alive one, but he hates me…he hates me so much!”

Vaguely, Harry realised that Ron was hugging him as well now, and he basked in the warmth of the brotherly embrace, a worry clearing from his mind as he realised that Ron wasn’t going to throw away his friendship now that he knew that Harry’s father was his most hated teacher.

Hermione was crying as well now as she listened to the hurt in her friend’s voice. “Oh, Harry, I wish I could do something to help! Is there anything that you want?”

Harry was ashamed of his feeble voice as he replied, with a sudden rush of longing. “I want Remus. I really, really need Remus here.”

Ron leapt to his feet, glad to be able to do something to help his friend. “I’ll go and fetch him!”

Harry couldn’t repress a sob. “No, you can’t. He went on a mission, and Snape said that he’d gone missing. He’s gone and left me all alone when I really need him to be here!”

“You’re not alone, Harry” said Hermione, desperately hugging him tight. “We’re here, we’ll always be here.”

“No you won’t! You’ll end up getting killed because of me.”

Ron’s voice was angry when he replied. “Don’t listen to what that git said to you! You haven’t caused anyone’s death, Harry, and I refuse to let you believe that you have!”

Taken aback by the vehemence in the red-haired boy’s tone, Harry didn’t have a chance to argue before Hermione cut in. “When did Remus go on this mission?”

“He only left earlier this evening, that’s why I wasn’t worrying.”

Ron was clearly baffled. “How can he be missing already if he only left today?”

Hermione huffed at him. “Well, honestly, Ronald, it must be a short task, maybe something that’s time-sensitive.”

Harry lifted his head at that. “Yeah, Dumbledore said the timing was crucial. Remus was talking to me, and then Dumbledore came in and suddenly he had to leave just like that.”

Harry felt himself get upset again as he remembered what Remus had said before he left.

I love you so much, Harry. And now he was missing.

Drawing his knees up to his chest, he hugged them to himself and rocked slightly. He had this huge ache inside him, a physical need for Remus to be with him, because when Remus was holding him he always felt like everything was going to be alright, he felt warm and loved and safe. The only other person he felt like that about was Sirius.

His already unsteady emotions crumbled when he remembered his godfather, and Harry began to sob again.

“I really miss Sirius” he whimpered, and if his friends were surprised by his change in subject they didn’t show it, but came and sat by him again, comforting him with their presence.

Harry suddenly found that he needed to talk, that he needed his friends to understand. “I really miss him. I miss the fact that if he were alive and knew I was this upset, he’d drop everything to come to me. I miss the fact that he was always ready to fight my battles, and was there to keep me safe. I miss him now because it was always him I went to when I was upset, and he’d always make me feel better. But he’s gone, and it’s Remus I go to now, but he’s left me as well. I want Remus now so much it hurts, but Snape says he’s missing and I’m so scared because I don’t know what I’ll do if he’s dead.”

His friends could add for themselves the last unspoken sentence. Dead like Sirius is.

Harry was crying again now and didn’t think he could ever stop, not even with his friends beside me. So deep were his sobs that he never noticed the portrait door open. He did notice his friends draw away from him, but before he could look up, he was enfolded in gentle arms and soft robes.

For one heart-stopping moment he thought that perhaps it was Remus, returned safe and sound, but he soon realised that the smell and feel of the person was different. The let-down made him merely cry the harder, and he felt himself being pulled up to sit in the person’s lap. The robes smelt faintly of lemon drops, and Harry realised with a start that he was being cradled in the lap of no less than the Headmaster himself! Startled, he was about to pull away, but he so craved the comfort that the old man appeared willing to give that he gave in and sank into the embrace.

He was being slowly rocked from side to side as a gentle hand rhythmically stoked up and down his back. Harry’s head was comfortably resting on a softly-robed chest. He was so tired, and the position was so comfortable. Harry hadn’t realised that he’d been making a low keening noise until he stopped as he began to calm. Exhausted by the emotional evening, Harry began to drift off to sleep.

He roused himself, though, before he could drift away, however much he wanted to let peace overcome his mind he wanted some answers more.

Looking up at his Headmaster’s face, he began firing off questions to him.

“How can Snape be my father? Why did nobody know? How come I look so much like my dad, I mean, James Potter? Is Remus really missing? Where did you send him?”

Harry would have continued with his barrage had not Dumbledore held up one hand to forestall him, a slight smile on his otherwise sad and tired face.

“My dear boy, I’m afraid I really cannot tell you anything about your parentage, for the simple reason that I myself knew nothing about it. Professor Snape is also upset and I am unwilling to attempt to talk to him just now. Tomorrow we shall discover some answers for both of you. But for now, I ask you not to think too harshly of him, and to try to look upon this with an open mind.”

Harry was looking at him in disbelief. Not think too harshly of Snape, and look at this with an open mind? He says this about the man who fathered me and never told me and who has just basically told me that I am no better than a murderer?

However, before Harry could protest, Dumbledore was continuing.

“About Professor Lupin. Yes, Harry, I’m afraid that Remus was indeed due to return a short while ago, however, do not fret. I am not at liberty to discuss with you exactly what he was doing for me, but he is a very resourceful man and a powerful wizard. I have every confidence in his abilities.”

The boy was comforted slightly by this, and could indeed see no overly concern in the man’s eyes. Although, Harry knew the Headmaster was a skilled Occulmens and was quite capable of hiding from Harry his true thoughts on the matter.

Before Harry could ask anymore questions, the Headmaster herded the three friends off to their beds, with promises to talk more in the morning.

Harry was not satisfied, but he was exhausted and so didn’t protest much before surrendering and leaving the safety of his Professor’s lap with some embarrassment and stumbling up to bed.

In fact, so tired was he that he fell asleep without using any of his new skills at Occlusion and tumbled straight into Voldemort’s mind…