Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.

The Letter

It was raining. It had been a month since the end of the war. Harry Potter was lounging in the Weasley's sitting room along with Ron, Hermione and Ginny. Hermione was filling Ron in on her search for her parents and her successful restoration of their memories. She was only here because they needed to get everything settled in the Muggle world. Harry was lying on the couch with Ginny, half-asleep, on top of him as he stroked her hair. They'd gotten back together immediately after the war and hoped to keep it quiet, have a little time to themselves. Thanks to the ever nosy Rita Skeeter, that had been a pipe dream at best.

Peace. It was strange, what Harry was feeling. For as far back as he could remember, he'd been abused by the Dursleys. Then, as soon as he went off to Hogwarts, the presence of Voldemort had clung to him like a leech. Now that Voldemort was gone, his followers ether dead or in prison, and no longer being condemned to return to Private Drive, all was peaceful. No one was attacking him or trying to kill him. It was a strange feeling.

Between the soothing pitter-patter of rain outside and the sweet scent of Ginny's hair, Harry was beginning to get drowsy himself. He stopped stroking her hair and held her as tightly as his sleepy arms would allow. Since he'd discovered the truth about his former Potions Master, Severus Snape, he'd been keen to never take Ginny, or the love they shared, for granted. Not that he ever would otherwise. She was so beautiful. So precious to him.

He was nearly asleep when he vaguely heard a knock at the door. Thankfully, Mr. Weasley answered it. That wasn't much of a comfort, it turned out, because he came into the room a moment later.

"Harry." Harry was quickly upright but still drowsy, and Ginny was now waking as well.

"Yes?" he asked, his voice thick with sleepiness so he cleared his throat.

"Professor McGonagall was just here." This came as a surprise to Harry; Professor McGonagall had been the last person he'd expected to visit him here. It got the attention of the others as well. "She came across Snape's will."

Harry felt a pang of sorrow and guilt that they'd parted on bad terms. Surly, wherever Snape was now, which Harry truly hoped was with Lily and Dumbledore and the very few others who had regarded him as an actual person with feelings, was better the the miserable life he'd seen through the pensive a month ago. Harry would have liked to share final words with Snape, though he had the faintest suspicion that the man, or at least his spirit, knew how he felt.

This also sent a chilled feeling through his veins. First of all, the very presence of a will suggested that Snape knew – or at least anticipated – that he wouldn't survive the war. Besides that, it was doubtful McGonagall would trouble herself with informing Harry of this unless something was left to him. Questions erupted in Harry's head. What would Snape want him to have? Whatever it was, surly he'd favor it in the possession of someone else. Had he not already given him his memories? What did the man even have to give?

"He wanted you to have this." Mr. Weasley said. Sure enough, there was an envelop addressed to Harry Potter.

"Thank you." Harry said quietly after a second and took it as his friends and girlfriend huddled around him. Harry, who at this point was surprised that Snape even knew his first name, stared at it for a moment. Mr. Weasley, perhaps sensing that it would be awkward, left the room without a word.

"Well, give us a look!" Ron said impatiently, snapping Harry out of his thoughts. Harry carefully opened the envelope and took out the first of few letters hidden inside it. He read quietly, and he could tell the others were as well.

Harry,

This in itself was a surprise. Harry had expected the usual 'Potter', if anything.

If you are reading this, I am gone. Weather by the hands of the Dark Lord himself or a faceless casualty of the war, I suspect you would know better than I would. I presume that since you have received this letter it means that you have won the war. More to the point; what you are about to read may shock you, but it is the honest truth. James Potter is not your father. I am.

Harry was unsure what to think. He looked at Ron and the girls, seeing that they were looking just as surprised and confused as he felt. "You guys read that, too, right?" he asked.

"Yeah." Hermione said quickly.

"Thought so." Harry said and returned to the letter.

Believe what you will for now and if you would, allow me to explain. Besides myself and Lily, our families, Dumbledore, and James and his group knew of this.

Those memories you saw in the pensive, the ones involving my time at Hogwarts I should say, were fake. This includes the one you spied on in your fifth year. Everything from before this, involving dear Lily, was true. We had always been friends. Dumbledore had suggested we make up a false story. Nether of us liked doing this to you, but we agreed that such a time would be less than ideal to present you with conflicting stories.

While it is true that James and I, as well as our respective friends, didn't take kindly to one another at first, the situation was much less dire. Yes, he and his friends bullied me, but only for our first year and part of our second. There is something I would like to make clear: I never went against Lily. She was always my dear best friend. My housemates hated that and bullied me more fiercely than James or Sirius ever did. Indeed, most of the memories of bullying you saw were actually fellow Slytherins. James witnessed this and came to my aid. He was sickened that anyone would bully their own house-mate. Since than, we've all been close friends, though I personally had a difficult time getting along with Pettigrew.

The willow incident never truly happened, but Remus once told me that Sirius and James had sometimes joked about doing such a thing in first year. As for what you saw in your fifth year, it was true in essence, with many differences. I was being bullied and your mother did come to my rescue. I did lash out in anger and pride, but that word never passed my lips. We argued for a bit, stormed away from one another, didn't talk for a couple miserable days, and made up afterwards. Your standard occasional fight between friends. In creating this false memory, I felt their needed to be a sort of deal-breaker, something that would seal the supposed end of our friendship for the sake of the story.

Lily and I fell in love over the years and married in secret. I'd been threatened by my so-called housemates to join the Death Eaters, though the idea of it repulsed me. We chose to keep our marriage secret to keep her safe. When it was discovered that Lily was with child, she and James forwent a fake marriage to keep up appearances. There was never any romantic attraction between them, they were as brother and sister, not unlike yourself and Miss Granger, I suspect.

I visited as often as I could. It was sheer luck that I was never discovered. You've inherited more physical traits from your mother than everyone says. All but your hair and skin tone are hers. When short enough, my hair sticks up as yours and James does, but not at it's usual length. We were cousins, James and I, through my pure-blood mother. It was simply a lucky coincidence that you looked like him as well.

I was devastated when James and Lily were killed and furious when Dumbledore denied me custody of you. He said that the blood-protection remained and you would be better off with those Muggles. He said that it would be dangerous to have me, a former Death Eater, take you and raise to many questions to the public. The truest reason I became a teacher at Hogwarts was because I knew you would eventually be attending, so I could watch over you as I wished. I don't think I ever truly believed that rubbish about Sirius, ether. As I said before, I never truly got along with Pettigrew. I also took Remus aside to tell him about the ruse, as well as Sirius, once we were out of rang and I could speak to him privately.

I honestly do love you. Above all else, I wish to make that clear. Dumbledore had always known that the Dark Lord was not completely gone. In a severe misjudgment, I thought that if I distanced myself from you, it would make you at least safer than otherwise. It killed me to have to act that way toward you day after day. All I ended up doing was making you feel as though yet another person was out to get you, and for that I apologize. I sincerely hope for, but do not expect your forgiveness.

I have had recent contact with my own mother and father. I must ask you not to go out of your way to find them, as my father is, to put it civilly, a most unpleasant man. That was another reason I acted how I did, I suppose. It was all I knew, and while I swore to myself that I would be a better father than Tobias, I sometimes doubted that it would be within my ability to treat you well as a child. I can hardly stop you if you do choose to find them, just be warned; Tobias will not be pleased to see you.

I have a few final requests for you, Harry. First, keep the contents of this letter a secret. Tell only who you must. You, your mother and I, and everyone else involved all have reputations that would be tarnished if this was brought into the public eye. I also ask that you continue to carry the name Potter, not only because it's how everyone already knows you, but getting back to my father, I'd rather you carry James's name than his.

Finally, I ask that you go on living. Live a full, happy life. All parents want better things for their children and in the long run, I believe you did get it better then I did, and so I am content with it. I noticed last year that you were becoming quiet friendly with Miss Weasley, unless I miss my guess. Just the fact that you would be able to marry publicly and not have to hide from your own child as I was forced to is enough for me. I wish you both happiness and bliss.

Funny thing about facing the prospect of death. Things you used to consider everything; nobility, wealth, pride. It all seems so meaningless. So empty. I am prepared to die now that I've told you all there is to tell. Do not allow the casualties of war to cripple you. I know you and your friends are far stranger than that. Until someday when we are reunited, my son.

Love always,

Severus Snape

Harry felt moisture in his eyes. This whole time – he'd had a father? So near him? Snape? He couldn't understand why no one had told him, but part of him did know, it seemed. He would have been furious, spiteful, angry. He'd hated the man with a passion until a month ago. And somehow, it seemed to make a little bit more sense, him being Snape's son rather than James's.

Part of him had always had a feeling, a familiar feeling about Snape. Perhaps this confusion had been some of the fuel for why Harry had hated him; he had seemed very familiar, but as hard as Harry tried, he couldn't remember him from before he had started Hogwarts.

Ginny smiled and snuggled up to Harry, who placed the last letter on the table to hold her. Yes, they would live long, happy lives, all of them. Hermione had tears and her eyes too, but she was smiling. Ron wasn't teary, he just held Hermione closed, and exchanged a look of revelation with Harry. It all seemed so surreal.

Had they not all been so immersed in the content of the letter, one of them might have noticed a large purple beetle sitting stone-still on the wall by the table. From it's inconspicuous spot, the beetle seemed to be – reading the letter.

I tried to make this as canon-compliant as possible without having to go back and read the books. Review.