Parental guidance.
Disclaimer: characters belong to J.K Rowling, not me. Anything you may recognise is her property. I don't own anything, apart from this story and any characters that I happen to create.
WARNING: May contain mild swearing and SLASH; I was thinking HP/DM and maybe SS/RL.
Genre: Family/Romance
Summary: On Harry's seventeenth birthday, he obtains a letter from his mother, which was kept safely locked up in a vault at Gringotts, to be sent to Harry at midnight. He is shocked, to say the least, to discover that his biological father is in fact, Severus Snape. The professor also receives a letter and proceeds to collect Harry from the Dursleys to find out if it is actually true or just an elaborate hoax.
"Dad?" Harry whispered, in awe, as he picked up the moving, coloured picture of Snape. It had been enclosed in the letter he had received about an hour ago. He had just finished reading the letter and had been staring at the envelope, lost for words. When the photograph, of a young Snape, had fallen out.
He went back to the letter to read it for a second time, hoping that he had read wrong, but knowing instinctively that it was the truth and not his eyesight playing up.
Dear Harry, my Darling boy,
If you are reading this letter, then I am dead. It also must mean you have turned seventeen, so first I must wish you a Happy Birthday! I hope you have an amazing day, son. You are now officially an adult. As I write this, you are sitting in your playpen, babbling nonsense to your favourite toy, a dog by the name of Paddy. Luckily, Moonfoot, the name your idiot godfather, Sirius' wanted to call it didn't stick. I am writing with the hope that you will never get this letter.
But back to the matter at hand. I don't want to have to write this. But the odds aren't good, so I have to in case I don't survive. I want to be able to watch you grow up, say your first word, take your first step, I want to be their for every second of it.
I know I'm babbling, I don't have long to write this, James will be home soon, the man you look at with such affection that it breaks my heart. For he is not your father, oh, how I wish that he were. But I have to go, day by day, pretending you are his.
He took us in, treated you as his own, and loved you as if you were his. But you're not; your real father doesn't even know you exist. You see your father is a Death Eater, a spy for the light, yes, but he still can never know. I love your real father, I want him to be safe, and so I have to pretend that you are James' son. If Sirius knew he'd have a hernia. Nobody can ever know. If the world found out your fathers real identity then you would be even more at risk and so would your father. I don't even know if he loves me.
I'm crying now, as I take in your adorably, slumbering form. Lying on your Slytherin green blanket. It was one night, I had been at a party, and I saw your father through the crowd. He was dancing with his friends; he looked so carefree and happy, my heart had swelled with love for him. I don't know how it happened, but we had ended up dancing and laughing, before I knew it we were making love. It was the most amazing experience of my life. I had felt loved and cherished, I never wanted it to end.
But I slipped away in the morning; I didn't want him to be ashamed, sleeping with a Mudblood. A week later, James Potter asked me to go on a date with him; I accepted. Soon we had slept together and I didn't even notice I was pregnant until a month later. I had hoped that you would be James', we got married a month after I told him I was pregnant. He was delighted; he loves you so much. But when you were born I realised as soon as I saw you, that you were his son.
I'm sorry; I know you've grown up thinking James was your father. But I had to do it and I don't regret it, not a single second of it, you mean everything to me. I would do anything to protect you, even give up my own chance of happiness. I just hope that you don't hate me for lying to everyone.
I hope that maybe one day you will get to know your real father, Severus Snape, and be a part of a real family. I love you, my beautiful Harry, I'm sorry.
With love, your Mother, Lily Potter.
Harry felt like he couldn't breath properly. He felt like everything he had ever known about himself was a lie.
Harry had been looking forward to his seventeenth birthday for weeks. This was the first birthday that he had actually been excited about for very long time, before he knew he would never get anything. Possibly if he was lucky he would get an old sock, but he never heard the words "Happy birthday", that mattered more to him then a present. His 'family' had once again completely ignored the fact that it would be Harry's birthday tomorrow and hadn't mentioned it at all. But that made the presents and cards from his pseudo family even more special. Since starting at Hogwarts and meeting new friends, friends he had never imagined he would ever have. He had, for the first time, received presents from people other than his family. Though, truth be told, his friends were more like family to him than the Dursleys could or would ever be.
But before then it would have been just like any other day, this year however was different. He would now be old enough to do magic whenever he wanted and would no longer have to live at the Dursleys; he was free.
However he couldn't open them now, not after reading that letter. All he could think about was that he had a father; maybe he would have a proper family now? The type he had always longed for, the type that had always made him jealous of others for the fact that they had someone to love them unconditionally and he didn't.
Maybe it's just a joke, a hoax to hurt me? Harry thought. But no, it couldn't be Voldermort. He was dead, had been for nearly a year now. All the Death Eaters were in Azkaban or otherwise six feet under. But it could easily be a silent supporter, or a son or daughter of a Death Eater seeking revenge, just wanting to hurt Harry. If they were intended to hurt him, then they were going the right way about it.
Everything he ever knew about his dead family was false. None of it was real, could never have been real. Not with the information he had just found out.
His father wasn't his father at all; he was just a man, a stranger. Someone who should of meant absolutely nothing to him now. So why did he feel like he was grieving all over again? Like he was losing his father for a second time?
Harry wondered if anyone else knew about this deep, dark secret. Did Remus know? Harry had been told, that when his parent s had been forced to stay in Godric's hollow, Remus had been his mother's best friend. They had grown so close. His mother had confided in Remus about a lot of things, her boredom, missing her friends and her freedom. But would she have trusted him with something as big as this? Perhaps he was too close to James to be trusted?
And anyway, Remus wouldn't be able to do that to him, he was like Harry's surrogate father, and they kept no secrets from each other, told each other everything, past and present. He would never be able to look himself in the mirror, day by day, knowing that he was keeping something so important, as his heritage, from Harry.
But there was still the fact that he looked so much like James, everyone had said so. How could he look so much like someone he wasn't truly related to? It didn't make sense. Harry looked away from the window and to thoughts of the album that Hagrid had given him long ago; he looked so much like the man in the pictures. How could his mother have looked so happy at the wedding when she knew she was carrying another mans baby? Did she think she was getting a second chance? A way out? He looked at the man he had called 'dad' for 16 years of his life. He would not be calling him dad for much longer.
But it just had to be impossible. Snape seemed so wrong for his mother. For one, she was Muggle born and Snape despised Gryffindor's. Harry could never imagine Snape willingly being with his mum even if it was only for a night. Maybe he was drunk out of his mind? So much so that he didn't know what he was doing? Perhaps he had actually had feelings for her, been in love with her as lily had been in love with him.
And hadn't his mother said that Snape had been dancing? He could never, ever, picture that in his mind. Maybe that just proved that Snape was drunk. But he could have been different back then, his mum had said that he was carefree; perhaps he had just become cold-hearted due to everything that had happened to him in his life. War did strange things to people, and he was in the thick of it. It had to be stressful being a spy and constantly having your life in danger. One wrong move and he would be killed.
He shook his head to clear the thoughts racing around in his mind. He got up and looked, once again, at the old, torn photo album. He told himself he would stop looking at the photos, but he couldn't. How could his mother have done this? He looked at James Potter. The man was looking at Lily, who was holding Harry protectively to her chest, talking to Remus. He was watching them with such devotion, such loving, how could his mother have lived with herself? Knowing that this man was not the father of her baby? It must have torn her apart inside.
Harry's thoughts drifted to Snape and his feelings towards his father, well the man he had always assumed was his father as nobody had ever told him differently. He did in fact look so alike his father; maybe that was why Snape hated him so much. It wouldn't surprise Harry that Snape would hate him if he reminded him relentlessly of the man that had made his teenage years a living hell. He was, possibly, glad that the man who had once been a bully, was no longer his father, maybe it was a good thing. He was at least a little relieved that there was no threat of him turning into a bully, as he had always feared. But Remus had told him that his father had grown out of that and grown up. But would he instead turn into a Mini Snape? Harry shuddered at the thought.
He had his mother's eyes so Harry might have just reminded Snape too much of the girl he could never have, the girl who was now dead. Lily being a muggleborn and Snape being a Slytherin would have caused a lot of trouble, they could never of had a proper relationship it would have bee the source of so many arguments. His green eyes were the only things that kept him from looking just like James Potter.
However, when Harry really thought about it, what likeliness did he actually have to his 'father'? Sure he had James' unruly hair, but he could easily get that from anywhere. His hair could just naturally be wild; it didn't mean he was necessarily a true Potter. His hairs black colour could be from Snapes colour, not James'. But everyone always said he looked exactly like his father, but maybe that was because they wanted to see it, they saw the hair and his shape. People see what they want to see. He even had to admit that he looked like James Potter, but maybe if he stood beside Severus Snape he would look like him too.
He had been malnourished, so perhaps he would be tall like his Professor if he had had the chance to grow up properly. When Snapes hair wasn't greasy (a shock I know, but it did sometimes happen) it was silky looking and probably quite soft. Harry's hair was soft and silky to the touch although you wouldn't have thought it as to the way it stuck up in all directions.
He looked out of the dusty, grim-covered window, out into the foggy darkness. The street lamps illuminated the whole street, he had been sitting there for what felt like hours, he watched the world move by. Though he didn't see much as it was past midnight, and most people were tucked in bed in his neighbourhood.
But he obviously had not been watching as carefully as he had thought, as he didn't notice the figure that apparated and walked down the street swiftly towards his door. He was too caught up in his thoughts.
He realised though when he heard a click alerting him to the front door being opened magically. He didn't know whether to be glad about the fact that the Dursleys had gone out or not. A creak told him that the person was coming up the stairs. Harry grabbed his wand from his bedside table, ready to attack if necessary. The door flew open, and a towering, dark figure walked inside.
"Potter, put your wand away, I'm not going to hurt you," Professor Severus Snape told Harry, curtly.
Harry sighed, dreading the conversation that was about to occur. "Yes, sir,"
"Now," Snape said moving towards him, he motioned to the letter in Harry's grip. "It is safe to presume that you know?"
Harry nodded, not saying a word, turning his heard back towards the window. Harry felt like his entire world had been flipped upside down.
"Is this a joke?" Snape said suspiciously to Harry, standing up taller and crossing his arms.
"No!" Harry assured him, before getting angry. "Do you really think I would joke about something like this, do you really think so little of me?"
Snape just continued glaring at him before obviously deciding that ignoring him would be the best plan of action. He flicked his wand and Harry's meagre possessions flew from all corners of his dingy room to collect in his trunk. "You're coming with me, back to Snape Manor. We'll discuss this there, find out if you really are my son," he told the room (as he was still choosing to ignore Harry), leaving no place for an argument, before shrinking his trunk and stalking out of the room.
Harry looked around his bedroom, knowing it was probably the last time he would do so. He already knew Snape was his father. His mother would not of lied to him about something like this and it had been sent straight from Gringotts, which was known for its security, which was only bettered by Hogwarts. There was no way that this was a prank.
He was about to leave before remembering about the things that he had hidden underneath the floorboard in case the Dursleys decided to take away his things and hide them in the cupboard under the stairs. He quickly pulled up the loose board and grabbed all of the stuff, though it wasn't much. His Invisibility Cloak and the Marauders Map that Harry realised sadly were not things that should have been passed down to him, as he wasn't James Potters son. But Sirius Black was still his Godfather and for that the Map was still relevant.
He walked out of his bedroom swiftly, not wanted to keep Snape waiting and get him mad, he would obviously be in a bad enough mood with the information he had just found out. After all, it wasn't everyday that you find out you have a son, and even more rare for said son to be a boy you once thought was the child of a man you hated and so hated also.
As he got outside he realised that it was cold, much colder than he had expected it to be. He looked down at his clothes and saw that he was only in a t-shirt, no wonder he was chilly. The sky was pitch black, stars scattered around in intricate patterns.
"Stop dawdling boy, I would like to get home some time today!" Snape snapped as he turned around and saw Harry coming to stand beside him at the end of Harry's, now old, street. He grabbed hold of Harry's hand and apparated the both of them to Snape Manor, where Harry would now be spending the rest of his, surely wonderful, holiday.
AN: So what do you think? Good, bad? Should I continue, maybe add a bit of slashyness in later chapters between Draco and Harry? Maybe Harry could be de-aged so that he could find out what it would be like to grow up in a loving environment? A protective Snape would be funny! Maybe Death Eaters added to the mix? Please tell me what you think and give me ideas in your reviews!