DISCLAIMER: Time and canon, not to mention logic, have very little place in this story. Basic mechanics of Rowling's universe are obeyed; everything else is intentionally out of keeping, the better to emphasize the parody.

Chapter 1: A Charming Failure

Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived, had moments in which he in no way resembled his father. Unbeknownst to him, or indeed to pretty much anyone other than Dumbledore, most of his moments were such. It was, however, too good a secret to remain hidden forever, and one day it made itself known in rather an abrupt manner and at quite an inconvenient time.

It began slowly, with Ron noticing that Harry's eyes had gone from green to hazel. This was easily written off as the aftereffect of a particularly bad reaction to a Skiving Snackbox that had allowed Ron to miss History of Magic, though, and neither Harry nor his friends thought much about it.

Then in Potions, Hermione noticed that, while Harry's hair was still black, it had gone suddenly frizzy. She might have written it off as something in his potion, but no one else had the same problem. Before she could say anything, however, there was a loud explosion not from a cauldron, and when the smoke cleared, she found Harry replaced by a boy who looked very much like a young Snape with hazel eyes and an Afro.

There was, quite understandably, a loud, confused reaction from the class, and once Snape restored order, everyone, especially the Potions master, still stared.

The boy beside Hermione looked a touch confused by it all. "What'd I do?" he asked. "Why are you all staring at me?" He turned to Ron and raised his eyebrows.

Ron went pale. "You've got his scar!" he whispered, then fainted dead away, taking his stool and cauldron with him.

"H-Harry?" Hermione said.

The boy turned to her. "Yeah?"

"You look…different."

"That's quite enough!" Snape snapped. "All of you, return to your potions. Potter, stay after class."

Harry, to his credit, was as confused as everyone else, but after helping Ron up, he did as he was told and returned to his potion.

After class, when all of his classmates went to Transfiguration and wherever it was that the Slytherins went, Harry walked to the front of the room to face Snape. The Potions master looked sharply at him for a moment, as if he had given some offense, then stormed out of the room and beckoned for Harry to follow.

They ended up in Dumbledore's office, where the headmaster went pale and had to sit down after seeing Harry. "Well," he said, "this wasn't entirely expected."

Snape glared at him. "I specified a good family, Albus," he growled. "Which part of that escaped you?"

"The Potters were a good family," Dumbledore replied faintly.

"James Potter was one of the worst scalawags to infest the face of the earth!" Snape spat.

Dumbledore smirked. "Did you just say 'scalawag'?"

"Shut up," Snape grumbled irritably.

"Excuse me," Harry piped up. "What exactly is going on?"

Snape snatched up a mirror from Dumbledore's desk, where it had lain conveniently for narrative purposes. "Look," he ordered, handing over the plot contrivance.

Harry obediently held up the mirror, screamed, and fainted.

"Blessed with my looks," Snape commented, retrieving the mirror. "So now what?"

Dumbledore shrugged. "Well, I suppose he ought to be told," he answered. "It seems rather pointless to let him guess."

"The whole school is guessing right now," Snape told him. "His appearance charm blew up in Double Potions."

"That must have been irksome," Dumbledore commented off-handedly. "Yes, I suppose he'll have to be told, at least about you."

"Yes," Snape muttered darkly. "Better to leave her entirely out of it."

"At least her name," Dumbledore agreed.

They had, as it happened, forgotten entirely about Harry, who now revived and got to his feet unassisted. "Did anyone see the lorry that hit me?" he asked groggily.

"Blessed with his mother's brain," Snape said resentfully.

"He'll turn out better," Dumbledore assured him, then turned to Harry. "Now Harry," he continued. "I have a hard truth to break to you, which the reader has probably already figured out but which, for reasons of plot development, I must make plain in the dialogue."

Harry blinked. "Um, okay."

"Professor Snape is your father."

Harry went pale, then backed all the way to the wall. Frightened eyes turned to Snape, but he managed to keep his voice steady. "I'll never join you!" he declared. "Never! Not even if you cut off my hand!"

Snape exchanged perplexed looks with Dumbledore. "Why the hell would I want to cut off your hand?!" he demanded.

"'Cause that's how it works!" Harry yelled.

"Still think he'll turn out better?" Snape asked in an undertone.

"He's just taking it a bit hard, that's all," Dumbledore said soothingly. He looked back to Harry. "This is understandably hard for you, but it is nevertheless true, and I think it's time that you and Professor Snape put aside your differences and come to an understanding." He looked sharply at Snape. "Right, Severus?"

Snape rolled his eyes and sighed. "Sure."

"Why don't you shake on it?" Dumbledore suggested.

Snape gave him a resentful look, but he offered his hand to Harry.

"Get away from me, you lazy-eyed psycho!" Harry screamed.

Dumbledore sighed. "I can see we have a lot of work to do."

"Especially if you want to explain the rest of it to the reader through dialogue rather than narrative," Snape agreed.

Harry just huddled on the floor, whimpering.