Chapter 1 – Discoveries

A quill twirled aimlessly in the air, controlled by the boy who lay sprawled on the bed, one hand tucked neatly behind a mass of raven hair. Dark, green-black eyes stared up at the ceiling as his wand hand worked on moving the quill about the room. The boy was Harry Potter, the boy who lived, and he was enjoying the newly banned lift on underage magic due to Voldemort's return. Harry had been sure to make it well known to his aunt and uncle, who upon discovering this, had taken an immediate vacation with his cousin Dudley, and did not plan to return until school's start. Although he was happy to have them gone, he wished that they had at least left some semblance of food in the fridge.

Sighing, Harry allowed the quill to ease down to his desk, before sitting up and sliding to the floor. Long, flowing black hair hit his back as he stood, one of the many changes to his features as the summer had progressed. He walked to his mirror and examined himself, a slight smile playing about his lips. He did not know how it had happened but he liked the changes, and as he stood before the mirror he tied his hair back, now a bit past his shoulder. His eyes, which were usually bright green, were now dark enough to almost pass as black, and he had grown too. He now stood at about 6.2, his body lean and strong, slight muscles beneath the shirt he wore. His face had lost all baby fat and was only muscular and lean, leaving practically no trace of the boy before. To complete the changes, Harry's glasses lay discarded in a junkyard somewhere, no longer needed because his eyesight had enhanced. He grinned, thinking of how Hermione would respond. At least she wouldn't have to fix them anymore he mused.

Pocketing his wand, Harry turned for the door, stomach rumbling. As he reached his hand for the knob, there was a sudden screech and a flapping of wings as an owl hurtled into the room through the open window. Harry swiveled, surprised that Hedwig had already returned from the Burrow, but excited at the prospect of not having to scrounge for food, or worse, eating one of Hagrid's rock cakes. But the owl that had swept into his room wasn't Hedwig, and Harry quickly pulled out his wand, raising it quickly as he stared skeptically at it. Black with red eyes, the owl screeched again, holding its leg out in order to pass the green note it held on to. Cautiously, Harry approached the owl and checked for any hexes. Finding none, he removed the note from the owl, and for the first time noticed how old and tired it looked. With the note in hand, he glanced over the seal, raising his eyes at the snake and falcon intertwined. Pulling the seal open, the note suddenly leapt from his hand, unraveling itself to reveal worn tan parchment, nicely preserved. The black scrawl was still dark and readable, but before he could move it began to speak, reading allowed the note contained within.

Harry stood, shocked and mesmerized at the woman's voice from inside.

Dear Son,

If you are reading this then you must have reached your 17th year and I am afraid I am no longer with you. But there is no time for deep regrets over the past. All I can hope is that you hear what I have to say and follow what must, no, what should be done.

Listen carefully my son, and take extreme precautions. Because you are reading this it means that I no longer live, but your father my son, still does. This could only reach you if the counter part met him as well. I do not know all that you do, but I know that your father loves you and would want to know of your whereabouts. Severus and I are your parents, and would have raised you if it had not been for Dumbledore. As Voldemort rose to power, Dumbledore searched for any way in which to destroy him and found a way through Harry Potter. I fear of what shall come to pass but all I know is that grave things will come from this.

And so I ask you to find your father, and destroy Dumbledore. If life has formed for you as I fear then you know nothing of Voldemort. He does not wish evil onto the world but only seeks to protect the values and customs of the Wizarding world. He discovered early on that lying within the shadow of muggles only prevents the potential for change. Furthermore, the taint of muggle blood within our society leads to destruction and Voldemort seeks to stop it. It may be hard to believe with all that you must have been taught but it is true.

So I beg this of you Damien, search for your father and put a stop to this evil.

I have also left you a ring, which bears the seals of our households. You were too young to possess any memories, but I have placed a few photos within the envelope. Now I must provide a final warning for your safety son. I know you must think I'm scolding but after all I am your mother and I love you.

Take care my son, and I will see you in this next life,

Arina Snape

The note dropped out a package then, but the letter itself burned and swept itself out of the house, the ashes disappearing with the wind. Shocked and shaking, Harry stooped to pick up what had fallen loose. On the floor lay the ring described in the letter and a package of pictures just as she had said. He studied the ring first, the cold metal warming in his hand for a moment then cooling as it resized to fit his finger. Harry studied the two crests of the snake, falcon and black diamond orb that seemed to swirl. This he hesitantly placed in his pocket, before moving onto the photos. Fumbling, he managed to remove the pictures, and glanced over them, fingers unwillingly tracing the contours of his mothers face. The first photo was a family portrait, his father he thought, in shock, straight faced and holding that slightly irritated look, but there was a hint of a smile when Arina tucked her hand into his. Arina had long curly black hair, her face handsome but very kind. Dark green/black eyes looked back at him and he realized that he had her eyes. The next was a photo of him as a toddler but unmistakably their son. His hair was already a mess of curls, and no doubt his mother probably thought he had grown to look exactly like her.

The next couple of photos were simple, showing him in his room, a family outing, and then a last photo of his father holding him and reading a story that looked suspiciously like a DADA book. Harry stood, shaking, as he let it all sink and continued to go through the photos again and again. For a moment he reminded himself of the owl, and he turned, only to discover that it had left. He made it to his desk before sinking into the chair, the knowledge that Severus Snape was his father finally hitting him.

Around the same time that Harry had received his letter, Snape had received his on the streets of Diagon Alley. The owl had looked familiar to him, and he took the letter immediately, staring in shock at the symbol on the back.

Unlike Harry however, he waited till he had found some privacy in Diagon Alley and opened the letter, stomach clenching as he watched the note unravel and then the voice he had not heard for nearly 16 years. As the story played out, Snape began to curse, anger hitting hard at his core. But there was more to the letter. When it ended, the note also disintegrated, leaving his crest ring; his bind to Arina's family. Snape stood silently, staring at the ring, and placed it on his finger. Immediately, images began to flood back, magic unbinding magic bonds placed around his mind years ago. Images of Dumbledore standing before him, holding him in a full body bound. The next was of Dumbledore revealing his sleeping son, a terrible grin on his face. From here it raced through, almost painfully as he remembered Dumbledore relaying what he was to do and what had happened to his wife Arina. The swap, he realized. Dumbledore had swapped the Potter's dead child for his own. And finally, the spell that wiped his memory, warped it to fit the story Dumbledore now kept to in order to preserve the outcome.

And as the images finally began to subside he pieced things together. Severus remembered Dumbledore taking his son and giving him the potion to change him. To transform him into Harry Potter, the boy who lived. And the scar on his son's forehead, not from the power of a mother's love, but the power of a bind made between Voldemort and the Snape's and Malfoy's. A bond that Voldemort would not harm either child until it came time to decide the path they chose. And so the spell bounced back not because of the Potter's love, but because of the promised bond.

As everything hit him, Snape shrunk everything he had bought and tucked it into his pocket. Then knowing he needed to hurry, he teleported himself away to Harry; to his son, Damien.

Harry heard the noise of the front door opening from his bedroom, and nervously he jumped up, moving quickly from his chair and towards the door. He pulled it slightly open and crept into the hall, avoiding all of the creaks in the floorboards as he tiptoed to the stair rail. Downstairs, standing within the entryway, was Severus Snape. For a moment Harry simply stared at him, not knowing what to make of it, not knowing what to say. Then Snape, seeming to sense someone's presence, turned sharply to look up at Harry. He didn't bother to cover his surprise, as Harry stood quite still, attempting to find the words to speak.

"Professor Snape," he greeted Severus, working at keeping his tone level. "I received a note this morning, and it..." he let his voice trail, not knowing how to continue.

"I know," Severus replied. "You should also have a ring, that bears the seal of both Snape's and Moorewood's. That should stand as proof of who I am." Snape held his hand up in order for Harry to see the unmistakable ring that he also held. Harry touched the side of his pocket, letting his hand hit the weight of the ring.

"Then you are…" Harry struggled to get the words out. "My father," he finished in a whisper, swallowing hard. Snape nodded, stiff, afraid of how Harry would react. Slowly, Harry walked down the stairs, meeting Snape at the bottom. He now stood at his father's height, and seemed an almost mirror younger image of his father with slight distinctions. He was handsomer, and his skin was not pale, so one would have to take careful notice to see otherwise.

"I realize if you do not believe or wish to believe the contents but they are true. Your mother, wise as she was, left a spell on my ring to lift any spells placed on me by wizards. I am afraid that you cannot continue on as Harry Potter, but I understand if you do not want to take your place as a Snape, and furthermore, as my son."

Harry stood still for a moment, and then determinedly making up his mind nodded, sucking in a breath to calm him self. "It will take some time, but all I wish is to get back at Dumbledore," Harry responded, clenching his fists. "For someone to lie to me for 16 years, and to put doubt not only in my head, but also in the minds of others is too much for me. He killed my mother, took away my father and made me his pawn." Harry paused, biting his lip and finally raised his head to look at Snape.

"I…I will try my best, to be a good follower of Voldemort. And also…as your son, father." Snape's face worked hard to hold in his emotions, but a slight smile of warmth still lit his face.

"Well then," he said, attempting to keep his voice in check. "You must pack now. No clothes, no school books or anything. Only the items you require, and nothing more, understood?" Harry did not respond, simply moved towards the stairs. "And Harry," Severus called to Harry's retreating back.

"Damien," Harry responsed.

"What?" Snape asked bemused.

"Damien," Harry repeated. "Call me Damien. After all, that is the name I was born with is it not?" Snape nodded, the smile unmistakable now, but a little anxious as well.

"Are you sure?" he asked. Harry nodded.

"Then Damien, hurry, we have little time, and there is much to do." Damien nodded, throwing Severus a quick, small smile, before retreating up the stairs. It took him little time to pack what he needed. Skipping over clothes, food, books and such, he grabbed a backpack and tossed in the pictures his mother had sent him and some entries he had been keeping since the summer. He pulled the ring out of his pocket and studied it for a moment before placing it on his hand. He felt whatever other spells that had been placed on his features finally lift for good from the ring, and he smiled. He grudgingly left his broom, and knowing there really was nothing he absolutely needed, picked up his backpack and rushed down the stairs.

Snape simply nodded when he saw him, and then swept out of the house, holding the door open for him to follow. Damien exited the house, refusing to look back as he allowed Snape to shut the door. Then Snape held extended arm and Harry placed his over it, in order to apparate away from Privet Drive, away from the Dursley's and away from the life, of Harry James Potter.