A/N: So a great big thank you to everyone who review favourited or alerted the story it means a lot

WARNINGS: this story contains self-harm, drug addiction, rape and abuse of a minor READ AT YOUR OWN RISK.

Parings: Snape/? Lol You will find out this Chapter.

Chapter two: Secrets of the past.

Severus Snape was not by anyone's standards a patient man, nor was he, in anyway, caring or kind hearted in the slightest. This was common knowledge, to any student, colleague or friend he had ever had. Severus Snape was not a patient man. So it came as a great surprise to him (and let's be honest nothing really surprises Severus Snape) that someone would dare try his patience by sending him a letter at midnight, on one of the few nights he had off.

As he glared at the letter that had interrupted the first night of sleep he had been given in weeks, he almost screamed (in a completely menacing way of course) at the neat cursive writing that he was seeing. Lilly, his Lilly, for a brief momentthe mere thought of her name erased any trace of anger he had once had, but it only took a moment longer until he was back to his usual self.

It was impossible, completely and utterly so, Lilly was dead (no thanks to himself), and nothing or no one could bring her back. He took the letter in shaking hands, both anxious and dreading to see what it held. Taking in a deep shaky breath he began to read:

My dearest Severus,

I hope that this letter finds you both alive and well, freed from the clutches of Voldemort, and living what I hope has become a wonderful life. You above all others deserve some happiness, even if you, yourself do not believe so.

I would be lying to us both if I said that I held any desire to write this letter to you, to be truthful I wish I did not have to, but I know that I have no other choice. I will not survive this war, and in my heart I know James will not either, I have no more time to delude myself with what ifs, and this is my only chance to fix a mistake I made almost a year ago.

You will remember, I am sure, a night that we shared together, six short months after my marriage to James. We were drunk and I was lonely (maybe you were to), and I was fuming from a fight between myself and James. We agreed the next morning that it was a mistake, which neither of us, was to mention or think of ever again. For, three months I was able to keep that promise.

When I found out I was pregnant I was overjoyed, James and I were back on track and the night we spent together was becoming nothing more than a distant memory. When I went to have a check-up I was informed that, the date of my pregnancy corresponded with that of our night together. Foolishly I thought it nothing more than a coincidence. I was wrong.

When I saw my baby, my beautiful baby boy for the first time, there was not a single trait of James in him, instead I saw me, but more importantly I saw you. I didn't need to tell James, he knew from looking at Harry that he wasn't his, but after a lot of talking (and let's be honest yelling); we discovered that we had both cheated on each other that night.

James swore that Harry's biological parentage would not change how he felt about the baby, and he has been true to his word in every way, he has treated Harry as if he was his own from the very start. It was not an easy choice to place the glamour on him, but James and I knew there was no other way; you were to close to the other side, you couldn't be told, not without risking the safety of Harry, and that is something I could never do.

I didn't intend to tell you any of this; I know that seems harsh, but at the time I thought I was keeping my son safe, but the fact that I am almost certainly going to die, is forever playing on my mind, not to mention the guilt I have felt so often for denying you your son. Our son.

If you are reading this letter I am (as I knew I would be) dead, and Harry is, no doubt, in the care of my sister and her husband. You remember my sister Sev? How horrible and cruel she was to our kind? Well her husband is twice as bad, and I fear for Harry being raised in such an environment. You should be reading this letter on the day of his fifteenth birthday, by now the glamour I placed on him will have been erased.

I am begging you, to find him and take him in, I know it is too much to ask, after all that happened between us. But if you ever loved me, do this, not for me, but for him, for Harry, For your Son, do this please.

All my love

Lilly Potter

Snape stared at the letter lying flat against his lap, not quiet taking in everything he had just read. Harry Potter, the golden Gryffindor hero, his son? It was impossible; there was no way, that the James Potter miniature was of any relation to him, that spoilt pampered brat could not be a Snape, it was just absurd.

Yet in the back of his mind he knew that Lilly would never lie to him about something this important, and if he really thought about it the dates did match up, yet still, Potter, his son? It just didn't make any sense. It was clearly a mistake, and even if it wasn't it didn't change anything, they were still the same people, blood relation or not. James Potter was the boy's father not-

"Sev," In the confusion of the last fifteen minutes he had almost forgotten about the existence of the half-naked, black haired beauty that was curled beside him. It was about this time of the night, that one of them was usually leaving the others bed, in fact if he remembered correctly that was what he'd been doing before Lilly had interrupted his movements, "what's going on?"

" Nothing I just-" He stopped short, unable to deter his gaze from flickering to the letter still sitting on his lap, a reminder that the last few moments had not been a dream.

"What's that?' She questioned her almost black eye's following his gaze and locking on the letter, "is it from the order?"

"No. It's nothing to concern yourself with," He sneered falling effortlessly back into his emotionless self, he wasn't about to let her, see him in a weakened state, "I'm leaving."

"Don't bother," She mumbled sleepily, her arm tightening around his waist, almost possessively, "there's no point, your rooms only-"

"What, you want your dear cousin to find you in such a state? Really Nymphadora—"

"Don't call me that," Tonks stated furiously, her hair turning a violent shade of red. She released her hold on him, a clear sign that she had, had enough of him for one night.

He was almost out of the bed when a loud wailing, filled the walls, of number 12 Grimmauld place, echoing off the house so loudly, Snape thought the walls were going to collapse on top of them.

"What in Merlins name is that racket?" Snape yelled, pulling his hands over his ears in an attempt to block out some of the noise.

Tonks was out of the bed (knocking over a lamp as she did so), in the blink of an eye, pulling on a pair of torn jeans, and hardly paying him any notice as she addressed him, "It's Harry," She said in a rush, " Dumbledore, put wards on his house to let us know if he was hurt. It means he's… close to death." She was out of the room without so much as another word, leaving behind her, a man facing the possibility that his newly discovered son, could be dying. A man that was not worried so much about the fact that his son was dying, but was instead worried that he was almost completely uncaring about it.

Snape barley had a minute to contemplate these confusing thoughts, before he realised he was most likely needed down stairs.

He would gladly admit that he was disappointed to find that the giant mutt, had not joined Tonks and whatever other order members available to collect Potter (if there was anything left to collect that was), the Man (well Dog in Severus' humble opinion), was busy pacing back and forth in the foyer stoping every second to glance at the clock. Snape couldn't help but wonder if Black would be so concerned, about his Godson If he knew who the boy's father actually was.

Severus was surprised that Black only mentioned his presence with a brief scoff before he continued his pacing ways once again, clearly his worry for his precious godson was outweighing his need to constantly insult Snape every chance he got.

It took them twelve long tedious minutes to arrive back, Tonks and Lupin carrying the limp, pale and bleeding from of a tall and gangly urban haired teen. Snape almost gasped in shock when he saw him, and he could hear Black behind him doing the same. If it hadn't been for the scar Severus wouldn't have known who he was; He looked more like Lilly than he did Snape. Yet there was a dark edge to the boy that had never been present in Lilly in all the years he had known her.

"What happened?" Sirius questioned, recovering from his shock of seeing Harry, a lot quicker than Snape would have thought possible, "Who did it?"

"He did, "Tonks whispered, and Snape wasn't sure he had heard her correctly, "He tried to-"

"He overdosed on some muggle drugs, and slit his wrists, "Lupin cut in, speaking as gently as he could, "We stopped the bleeding, but he's lost a lot of blood, Severus if you could-"

Without a word Snape conjured a vial of dark red potion and handed it over his eye's never leaving the boy's motionless form. He noticed with more shock (if that was even possible), a large bruise peering through the bottom of the teenagers too short, top.

"Why would he, how could he possibly do something so foolish?" Black said and Snape swore the mutt was on the verge of sobbing hysterically.

"Perhaps we should be asking Severus that question." Lupin's voice cut in, sounding too harsh to be coming from his lips. Three pairs of eyes turned to look at him, and all he could do was glare back at each of them, what in God's name was the stupid wolf muttering about?

"What are you babbling about Lupin, how could I possibly know…"

"Care to explain this Severus," Lupin said. He shoved a piece of crimpled, blood soaked, paper under Snape's nose, waving it about frantically, " Would you like to explain to us all, what this letter means?" Severus Snape couldn't help but wonder why it was that his life was so screwed.