Disclaimer I own nothing in this story except the idea for the letter and
the scenario. OK so flame me if you must but I was rather please with myself
for making it all make sense! OK OK so I'm a sick person but no matter I'm
not forcing you to read this! READ IT NOW! OK so every one has gone now he
he he he.
****Background****
It was year after he had gone. The Boy Who Lived. He had finally left the
country. He did to save them, those people whom he had called friends. They
wouldn't be safe if they were near him. Voldemort had made that clear. One
day about a year after he had left he received a series of letters. They
were all from different people. Some of the people had been friends and some
enemies but all needed to talk to him to tell him something. All these
letters were to be given to Harry when the writers had died or left the
country.
LETTER ONE
Harry,
How can I say all the things I want to in a letter? The obvious answer is I
can't, but seeing as the reason you are reading this letter is that I am
dead, then I will have to try. The first thing I want to say is, I'm sorry
for being a bastard to you for all those years. There, I said it. Well, I
wrote it. You see, Harry, I never really hated you. Far from it. In fact I
loved you. I loved you with all my heart and soul. But I couldn't show you
or tell you, so I acted as if I hated you to lessen the pain for me. I could
never hate you, not really. To me you were too... too precious.
You were the boy who lived, but could you ever have been the boy who loved?
Maybe not. No, definitely not. Not me anyway. You could never have loved me.
But you loved him didn't you? Oh, don't be alarmed Harry I knew you were
gay. Good God, yes, I knew. I saw the way you looked at him. That bloody
bastard. He hurt you really badly didn't he, Harry? I saw the look in your
eyes when you saw him. You wanted him, you yearned for him, and he rejected
you. I saw your face when he said no to you. I saw how much he hurt you and
I wanted to hurt him too. Hurt him twice as much as he had hurt you. But I
couldn't. I couldn't because of who you are and who I was. Yes, but who was
I? I bet you're dying to know, aren't you, Harry? Who is this person who
claims to love me but yet didn't comfort me when that boy I loved most in
the world hurt me? Well, there is a simple answer to that. I am your father.
Yes, Harry, your father. But now you're thinking, 'Well, how could James
Potter know I was gay and how much I was hurt by that boy? And how could
James Potter have been a bastard to me?' Well, again there is a simple
answer for that, Harry. This letter isn't from James.
We were very different really, Harry, so you wouldn't have guessed what I
really was. Yes, very different. Different qualities, different passions,
different houses. Ah, yes, different houses, that was a huge problem. But it
could have been overcome just like it was overcome between your mother and
me. That's right, Harry, your mother and me. Didn't you ever wonder why you
were nearly put in Slytherin? It was because James wasn't your father! I
was! It was a good coincidence that both James and I had black hair and that
nearly all my family had green eyes, because if James Potter's son hadn't
looked like him it would have looked very suspicious indeed. It would have
been a huge problem. You see, Lily didn't want James to know that the baby
wasn't his. He had hated me in school and she feared that if he knew that
the baby wasn't his he would hate it or hate her. Because although she had
loved me, Harry, she adored him. She loved him with every fibre of her
being. He made her happy. I couldn't take that away from her, now, could I?
Not if I truly loved her.
Someone found out of course. It was Sirius. Ever wonder why he hated me so
much? He had hated me at school anyway and this was the last straw that
broke the broomstick, I suppose. He hated Lily for having feelings for me
and he hated her for not telling James the truth, but he kept his silence;
after all, he loved Lily and James too much to hurt either of them. He loved
you too; after all you were Lily's son. You see, your mother had the rare
gift of seeing through the mundane. She had the rare gift of compassion for
all humankind. She befriended me when no one else would. You see, my family
didn't have the best reputation. My father was evil and everyone was scared
I would turn out like him so I was left alone. But Lily saw through that.
She knew some people are not like their families. I mean, look at her. A
witch in a long line of muggles, and her sister was awful. But Lily was
different to all of them. She befriended me in secret.
After Lily I was too scared of loving again. Scared I would be hurt again.
Scared I would fall in love with someone that loved me but adored someone
else, someone that I was willing to die for, and they would reject me again.
I just couldn't face it. I suppose I became a sort of recluse. I'm not an
evil person, just lonely and I suppose that over the years I became a bit
bitter. But I wanted to change to show you that I could love but it's too
late now.
That's part of the reason you infuriated me. You had so many of your
mother's qualities and none of mine. You reminded me too much of Lily and
our sordid affair, so I acted as if I disliked you. I suppose I was bitter
about being rejected and this helped in disguising the way I felt about her,
and about you. I said I loved you, Harry, and I do. Even though I'm not
alive I still love you. Not in a sensual way, you understand; in a fatherly
way. I'll never forget the day Lily asked me to come over to her and James'
house, and told me that I was the father of this tiny human being. I just
wanted to pick you up and hug you and never let you go, but I couldn't. She
said she thought I should know but that James was not to find out, not until
you were old enough to decide where your loyalties lay. But Harry, it still
hurt. I saw you on your first day at Hogwarts and it hurt not to be able to
hug you, to tell you who I was. I was reminded of James as soon as I saw
you.
Now, Harry, that is all I have to say, but I think you need to think about
it. The way I see it you have two options. Accept this information or ignore
it. You have to choose between ignorance and knowledge, but remember both
have advantages and disadvantages. Whatever you choose, Harry, remember your
mother and remember that your father loved you, whether you say your father
is James or I. We both loved you, loved you enough to die for you, and I
suppose in a way we both have. Died for you, I mean. Remember your mother
and your father Harry. Whoever he is.
Severus
the scenario. OK so flame me if you must but I was rather please with myself
for making it all make sense! OK OK so I'm a sick person but no matter I'm
not forcing you to read this! READ IT NOW! OK so every one has gone now he
he he he.
****Background****
It was year after he had gone. The Boy Who Lived. He had finally left the
country. He did to save them, those people whom he had called friends. They
wouldn't be safe if they were near him. Voldemort had made that clear. One
day about a year after he had left he received a series of letters. They
were all from different people. Some of the people had been friends and some
enemies but all needed to talk to him to tell him something. All these
letters were to be given to Harry when the writers had died or left the
country.
LETTER ONE
Harry,
How can I say all the things I want to in a letter? The obvious answer is I
can't, but seeing as the reason you are reading this letter is that I am
dead, then I will have to try. The first thing I want to say is, I'm sorry
for being a bastard to you for all those years. There, I said it. Well, I
wrote it. You see, Harry, I never really hated you. Far from it. In fact I
loved you. I loved you with all my heart and soul. But I couldn't show you
or tell you, so I acted as if I hated you to lessen the pain for me. I could
never hate you, not really. To me you were too... too precious.
You were the boy who lived, but could you ever have been the boy who loved?
Maybe not. No, definitely not. Not me anyway. You could never have loved me.
But you loved him didn't you? Oh, don't be alarmed Harry I knew you were
gay. Good God, yes, I knew. I saw the way you looked at him. That bloody
bastard. He hurt you really badly didn't he, Harry? I saw the look in your
eyes when you saw him. You wanted him, you yearned for him, and he rejected
you. I saw your face when he said no to you. I saw how much he hurt you and
I wanted to hurt him too. Hurt him twice as much as he had hurt you. But I
couldn't. I couldn't because of who you are and who I was. Yes, but who was
I? I bet you're dying to know, aren't you, Harry? Who is this person who
claims to love me but yet didn't comfort me when that boy I loved most in
the world hurt me? Well, there is a simple answer to that. I am your father.
Yes, Harry, your father. But now you're thinking, 'Well, how could James
Potter know I was gay and how much I was hurt by that boy? And how could
James Potter have been a bastard to me?' Well, again there is a simple
answer for that, Harry. This letter isn't from James.
We were very different really, Harry, so you wouldn't have guessed what I
really was. Yes, very different. Different qualities, different passions,
different houses. Ah, yes, different houses, that was a huge problem. But it
could have been overcome just like it was overcome between your mother and
me. That's right, Harry, your mother and me. Didn't you ever wonder why you
were nearly put in Slytherin? It was because James wasn't your father! I
was! It was a good coincidence that both James and I had black hair and that
nearly all my family had green eyes, because if James Potter's son hadn't
looked like him it would have looked very suspicious indeed. It would have
been a huge problem. You see, Lily didn't want James to know that the baby
wasn't his. He had hated me in school and she feared that if he knew that
the baby wasn't his he would hate it or hate her. Because although she had
loved me, Harry, she adored him. She loved him with every fibre of her
being. He made her happy. I couldn't take that away from her, now, could I?
Not if I truly loved her.
Someone found out of course. It was Sirius. Ever wonder why he hated me so
much? He had hated me at school anyway and this was the last straw that
broke the broomstick, I suppose. He hated Lily for having feelings for me
and he hated her for not telling James the truth, but he kept his silence;
after all, he loved Lily and James too much to hurt either of them. He loved
you too; after all you were Lily's son. You see, your mother had the rare
gift of seeing through the mundane. She had the rare gift of compassion for
all humankind. She befriended me when no one else would. You see, my family
didn't have the best reputation. My father was evil and everyone was scared
I would turn out like him so I was left alone. But Lily saw through that.
She knew some people are not like their families. I mean, look at her. A
witch in a long line of muggles, and her sister was awful. But Lily was
different to all of them. She befriended me in secret.
After Lily I was too scared of loving again. Scared I would be hurt again.
Scared I would fall in love with someone that loved me but adored someone
else, someone that I was willing to die for, and they would reject me again.
I just couldn't face it. I suppose I became a sort of recluse. I'm not an
evil person, just lonely and I suppose that over the years I became a bit
bitter. But I wanted to change to show you that I could love but it's too
late now.
That's part of the reason you infuriated me. You had so many of your
mother's qualities and none of mine. You reminded me too much of Lily and
our sordid affair, so I acted as if I disliked you. I suppose I was bitter
about being rejected and this helped in disguising the way I felt about her,
and about you. I said I loved you, Harry, and I do. Even though I'm not
alive I still love you. Not in a sensual way, you understand; in a fatherly
way. I'll never forget the day Lily asked me to come over to her and James'
house, and told me that I was the father of this tiny human being. I just
wanted to pick you up and hug you and never let you go, but I couldn't. She
said she thought I should know but that James was not to find out, not until
you were old enough to decide where your loyalties lay. But Harry, it still
hurt. I saw you on your first day at Hogwarts and it hurt not to be able to
hug you, to tell you who I was. I was reminded of James as soon as I saw
you.
Now, Harry, that is all I have to say, but I think you need to think about
it. The way I see it you have two options. Accept this information or ignore
it. You have to choose between ignorance and knowledge, but remember both
have advantages and disadvantages. Whatever you choose, Harry, remember your
mother and remember that your father loved you, whether you say your father
is James or I. We both loved you, loved you enough to die for you, and I
suppose in a way we both have. Died for you, I mean. Remember your mother
and your father Harry. Whoever he is.
Severus