BEYOND SECRETS AND LIES
By: Chiki Yumeshisa

Disclaimer: I solemnly swear that I am up to no good….all right fine! I don't own Harry Potter, but all original characters/ideas are mine to claim!

AN: What fun! I'm glad to see that people were wierded out by that last chapter – I hope this chapter will do the same thing! Thanks for waiting everybody and please enjoy!

Chapter 10

- Denial -

There was a moment of stunned silence, where all one could hear was the crackling of the fire that burned merrily in the grate.

And then, they both spoke at once.

"What is the meaning of this?"

"What do you mean!"

Dumbledore seemed to be expecting their cries of outrage because he calmly replied, "It is a very long story, and this is why I have asked you both to come here so early. Please," he held up a hand to stop Harry from protesting, "let me finish before you ask any questions."

He turned his gaze to Snape, who had turned very pale, leaving his face a ruddy color. "Severus…you had a child, remember?"

Hoping against hope that Snape would deny it, Harry felt his world spin out of control as Snape slowly nodded. "Yes….but…he can't have survived…."

"He's sitting in the chair to your right." Dumbledore said cheerfully. "Very much alive." He added. Harry's insides had disappeared again, but not because of any medicine. He wondered if this were another very bad dream and wanted to wake up now.

"Harry Potter is not my son!" Snape cried, seething. His voice was pure venom and it caused Harry to shrink back. "He's the son of those filthy, no good, mental Potters! He looks exactly like James or haven't you noticed!" His finger jabbed in Harry's direction, but he did not turn to look at the boy, for fear of seeing that Harry's looks had changed suddenly and that he had been mistaken.

A ray of hope shone for Harry – so what if Snape had a child? It didn't mean it was him…

"Yes, he does look remarkably like James, doesn't he?" Dumbledore's voice sounded fond and had a dream-like quality to it. "And you can't very well say that Lily Evans was mental, now can you?"

Severus reddened slightly at his words, but he shook his head adamantly. "You must be mistaken, Headmaster. Selius must have died during the war..."

"No, he didn't." The Headmaster interjected. "I thought so, too, trust me, but the story doesn't end there." His gaze slid to Harry who was whiter than the color of chalk and who appeared to be in a state of shock.

"I had nicknamed you 'Doorstep Harry'," The headmaster said, sadly, "with all the moving around you'd undergone. You must forgive me that: there was too much going on."

When at last the two seemed silent enough, Dumbledore launched into his story. "Harry, you were left on the doorstep of Lily and James Potter when you were just a year old. They were married and in hiding from Voldemort, you see, and they were most surprised to find you out there, alone and with no protection.

"So they took you in, as their own, loving you and caring for you. With James' magic, they stamped upon you a bit of themselves, so that you might look like them." The headmaster said, thoughtfully, "James has always surprised me with his abilities. But he did not realize the danger of his magic either – in so doing, they split your mind, as parts of them contested to be a part of you. Thus, Liliana and Maje are parts of Lily and James living inside you."

"What about Bryce then?" Harry demanded. "And Paris? What about them!"

The Headmaster held up his hands, to subdue any questions. "I haven't finished." He said, slowly. "When Lily and James were killed by Voldemort, you survived with nothing but that scar on your head, while one of the darkest, most powerful wizards was defeated.

"But that scar is more than just a scar." Here he paused, stroking the feathers of Fawkes who had decided to interrupt his story with another screech. "That scar is a curse, upon which Voldemort transferred some of his powers into you, and without knowing, also placed a bit of himself in your mind, where I believe, Bryce was born." He stopped stroking the phoenix, and looked toward the boy, who had clutched his armrests so tightly, his knuckles were white. When Harry did not speak again, Dumbledore continued with his tale.

"After your parents' death, I had you brought to the Dursley's, who, at the time, I thought were your only living relatives. I found I was mistaken as the spell I had placed upon you was not working.

"The spell, Protego Paternum, was to bind you with the ties of your family so that you would be, in a sense, invisible to the eye of Voldemort. As you well know, Voldemort was rising in power again, and his first objective was to eliminate you because you were the one who brought upon his downfall in the first place.

"He was very weak," Dumbledore added, "but nevertheless, I wasn't about to leave you unprotected. In near panic, I searched everywhere for the ties of the person to whom you were related. After 11 years, my surprise was that he resided, at the time in Bulgaria, teaching Potions in Durmstrang, undercover."

Harry's eyes flicked to the Potions Master, who did not dare to meet his gaze. The tall, foreboding man did not look the least bit at ease, but instead, seemed to have been placed under a petrifying curse.

"So I sent you to Durmstrang, so that you would be protected, and once more, you were deposited on the doorstep of a family who agreed to take you in for the summer holidays before your classes began."

Harry remembered them very well. They had been very nice and welcoming, teaching him the language and making sure that he was well fed – very different from the Dursley's who had tried their best to pretend that Harry had ever existed.

"When Severus came back to teach at Hogwarts," The Headmaster had continued his story, "I feared that the spell I had placed upon you both would be broken. And it did wane, because Bryce seemed to be in control a lot, wasn't he?"

Harry tried to shut out the memories.

The screams.

The blood.

He nodded, his tongue feeling thick and glued to the top of his mouth.

"Well, after the incident, I had arranged for you to be brought to Hogwarts as well, and here I met Maje for the first time, who begged me to find a way – any way – to rid you of Bryce. It is in our minds that Voldemort may not be so blind to you as we thought, as Bryce is also a part of him, and thus hasn't been completely destroyed. And here," He sighed heavily, "here is where the bad news comes in….

"Unfortunately, there is no cure for Bryce. Maje warned me that the magic that James had performed would not last forever. He made me the Secret-Keeper to all this information, and I told him I would not tell you unless it was really necessary." At last, he stopped, taking in a deep breath, which sounded, to Harry, more of a sigh.

For a long while, no one moved except for Fawkes who began preening his feathers and blinking at each of them in turn as they let the truth sink in. Harry was finding his lap more interesting by the minute – this all had to be one twisted, made up joke. And then, he felt it…the raw edges of anger started to build up.

"May I ask a question, sir?" Harry asked, tightly, trying to ignore his sudden emotion.

"You've already asked me it." Dumbledore said, lightly, "But you're free to ask me another if you want."

"Why did you tell me all this now? What made it really necessary?"

"That was two questions not including the first." The man answered, still in his lighted voice. "But I shall answer them both nevertheless. I told you this now because I felt that I could not keep something this important from you, not when Bryce is fighting harder than ever to get out. I fear he'll hurt you in your subconscious mind, where there is no one there to help.

"As for what made it necessary – tonight, you become of age, Harry. I did not want you to become of age without knowing the truth." At the boy's questioning squeak, Dumbledore pressed on. "That's right – the birth date that was given to you by the Dursley's is not your real birth date but rather the date on which they received you on their doorstep. It says in your records that you were born on - "

"- December 24, at 7:00pm…." Snape interrupted quietly. He was not looking up, but was examining the material to his black cloak closely.

"Exactly." Dumbledore murmured, his lips turning up into a small smile. He suddenly looked so old and frail, as if the weight of the world were on his shoulders.

Harry stood up and began to pace. He felt as if he'd explode if he didn't move. "Why did Maje tell you to keep it from me?" He asked, running a hand through his hair. He kept shaking his head, as if to clear away the whole story – to make it so that it never existed.

Unfortunately for him, Dumbledore had an answer at the ready. "Because, James' magic allowed it so that if the holder of the spell – that is you – ever found out, the personalities would be released, and you would slowly start to look like the one to whom you held family ties. In short, their spell would end, and your features would be like that of your real father's."

Snape suddenly looked up. "What do you mean 'the personalities would be released'?"

Dumbledore slowly tapped his forehead with his index finger, his voice going grave. "It means, that Harry's four little friends will cease to be imagination."

0-0-0-0-0

It was past 10:00 already. The moving pictures surrounding the office were all listening keenly to the heated conversation down below as the three figures worked out quite a complicated affair.

Who would have known?

The Boy-Who-Lived was really the son of the Potions Master!

"There's got to be some mistake!" Harry protested, running his hands through his hair again. He had collapsed back into his chair. "How do you know that I am the baby that Professor Snape had? You must have the wrong person!"

"The Paternum spell only works with those who hold family ties with you." Dumbledore explained, patiently. "As long as you are within the walls of where your family ties are, you will be safe. When Severus left Durmstrang, the spell was lifted, and I knew for certain that he was your bond – that he is your father."

"There must be proof beyond that!" Harry cried, desperately, cringing at the thought of Snape actually being his father. "How do you know that my parents performed this spell?"

Again, Dumbledore was ready for the question. He automatically pulled out some books and a stack of papers. "James and Lily Potter researched this magic carefully. If done wrong, it would cause the holder of the spell – that is you – to be seriously injured, or worse, permanently impaired." He passed the books to the two, both of whom took them instantly, opening their worn pages. "I retrieved these when I was looking for more evidence as to why the Dursley's weren't fulfilling the Paternum spell."

On the top each book were the words, "Ipseum Insero" scribbled neatly. Mathematical equations, formulas, incantations and wand work were thoroughly researched in each, labels and diagrams lined some pages easily. Harry saw his name pop up more than a few times, and he could feel his heart hammering against his chest.

"You were the Secret Keeper," Snape said, addressing Dumbledore, flipping through the book with the potions' ingredients in them. "You knew that you would end the spell by telling Har … the boy." He corrected himself, awkwardly. "You would allow Bryce to rampage around?"

"Won't they disappear?" Harry asked, upon hearing that snippet. "They're supposed to, once the spell is broken!"

"Maje and Lily may." Dumbledore responded. "But again, Voldemort still lives, so Bryce won't just disappear. If anything, he'll find a way to get back to his real keeper and that's where you are in grave danger, Harry…Voldemort is still very angry with you."

Mouth dry, Harry could not help but be very angry at the Headmaster. He could have done without knowing the secret – mental torture he could stand, but watching Bryce murder someone again, he couldn't. He flipped through the last of the books, trying to find a shred of evidence against everything that Dumbledore had told them, but he could find nothing.

Finally, he slammed it shut, feeling faint. "And…my birth date…how did you know my birth date?"

Another piece of paper came out, this one on an official parchment that bore the words, "Selius Severus Snape, birth record".

Snape got up then, depositing the book onto Dumbledore's desk. His actions were not brisk as they usually were. They were stiff and uncertain, like that of a drunk man's. His hands were actually shaking as he imitated Harry's show of frustration by running his hands through his oily, dark hair.

He asked the question that was hanging over them like a shadow, that no one seemed to want to dare uttering. "How long will it take for the changes to take place fully?"

"It all depends on how fast Harry's body reacts to the waning spell that James performed on him long ago." Was the response. "Two months, maybe three…but at most four. In either way, Harry, you must continue to take your pills and try your best to control your emotions. When the personalities leave your mind, you must be at the ready. Expect the unexpected at all times."

That was not enough time! Harry could practically hear Bryce gloating about it and he grit his teeth.

"Severus, you have to continue to find a way to try and slow this process down. I'm counting on you to subdue Bryce at all costs. And," he added, "to be the father you missed out on being."

At that, Harry sprang from his chair, a snarl on his lips. The chair fell backward, with a soft thump, its legs sticking up in the air. "The father you never were!" He cried. "Don't even think of calling me Selius! I won't stand for it!" The raw edges of anger were back, and burning ever so quickly.

What would his friends think of all this? He'd be the laughing stock of the whole school again.

"Trust me, Potter," Snape snarled back, "I'm not thrilled any more than you are." He drew his cloak about him, menacingly, but Harry did not back down. The portraits surrounding them had started up a conversation on the outcome and the room was in an uproar.

When Albus Dumbledore got to his feet, he meant business. So when his voice rang out over their argument, the whispers died down and the two turned to face him stiffly. "That is enough. Harry, no matter what you do, these changes will happen and I'm afraid you'll have to adapt to them."

Snape began to storm to the doorway, when he was called on again. "Severus!" Stopping dead in his tracks but not bothering to turn around, Snape froze. "All this should be kept a secret until the changes start to happen. I don't want Harry singled out just when he has started to fit in." No answer came, and instead, the Potions Master swept from the room, slamming the door behind him.

Harry did not know what to do. This had to be the worst day of his life. When he met Professor Dumbledore's eyes, he set the book he was holding, down gently on the desk. Despite his anger, he felt overwhelming sadness envelope him. "Thank you, sir…" He managed to whisper after a very long time, fingers trailing the hard cover book. "…it's just that…."

"The truth hurts." Dumbledore said, wisely, nodding. "I know, Harry. But Professor or not, he is your father and he is the only family you've got. I wish there was another way."

Me too, thought Harry, but he did not word it aloud. He had always wanted a family, and he was disappointed that his only living relative had to be the one person he must have hated the most in all of his life.

"Happy Birthday, Harry."

By the time he entered his dormitory, mind full to the brim with all the information he had been given, he was glad for the solitude and the darkness. He curled himself into a ball and for the first time in a long time, he cried himself to sleep.

0-0-0-0-0

A sobbing sound filled the dark room, along with the sound of agitated footsteps. The atmosphere was extremely cold, like someone had decided to turn off the fires and sleep in their small clothes.

Well, that was how Harry felt anyway.

"Liliana, keep it down: don't wake him."

But the sobbing sound continued, and grew in intensity.

Not being able to hold onto his sleep much longer, Harry opened his eyes. He was lying down in a room he'd never seen before, wrapped in a dingy, gray blanket. The fire in the grate was out, and it looked as though it hadn't been used for ages. There was a small window in the corner of the room, letting in a pale stream of light.

His back felt stiff as a board when he sat up, and he realized it was because he was sleeping on the floor.

The scene that greeted him was one he'd experienced a few times before, except this time, Liliana did not greet him heartily. Instead, the girl was sitting on the floor, dabbing at her eyes with her robes and trying her best to keep in her sobs.

Maje continued to pace around the room, with his hands clenched behind his back. Paris sat motionless on the floor, watching them with big round eyes, his thumb in his mouth. He looked alert and confused.

"Harry's awake!" Paris cried, when he caught sight of Harry sitting up.

Both heads turned to look, and Liliana hiccoughed as she blinked through red, swollen eyes.

Peeling back the covering, Harry shivered slightly. "What's going on?" he asked, groggily, fingers trembling because of the cold.

"He told you!" Liliana wailed. "He told you our secret! Oh, Maje, I warned you not to tell the Headmaster! Now look at what he's gone and done!"

Maje's pacing stopped and he fixed his green eyes on Harry while his hand shot out to Liliana's shoulder in comfort. "There was no choice. When Bryce began to come out, I knew there was something wrong. I needed a solution, Liliana! I couldn't let him hurt us any longer!"

Maje's words echoed in the room, and Liliana looked down at her hands. "I'm happy he told him…." Maje said, finally. "Harry is of age now – he has the right to know. And…he's got to learn how to defend himself."

Harry felt goose bumps race down his skin, and he unconsciously hugged the blanket up to his chin while he listened. Paris had sidled over to his side, by this time, leaning against his wiry frame. He said nothing, watching the two argue some more, his hand never leaving his mouth content to be sucking away at his thumb happily.

"Aren't I of age when I turn 18?" Asked Harry, who could no longer stand to be so silent.

Maje shook his head. "In the wizarding world, you turn of age at 17. Oh, Liliana stop crying, it's not the end of the world!"

Liliana's sobs quieted just a little. "He's going to come out, now…we all are…and it's going to be harder to control us….." She looked toward Harry imploringly. "We'll do our best to delay but….." She trailed off, not wanting to finish her sentence. "We'll hold Bryce back as much as we can." She said instead.

"Will Bryce hurt us?" Paris asked, suddenly, his voice very small. His chubby face had turned pale and worried.

"He won't hurt us." Maje said, quickly, picking up his pacing once again. "But when we do start to dematerialize from Harry's mind, I'm afraid that we're going to have very little time to help protect Harry from him. And what's more, I suspect that your changes won't come gradually, Harry," He was now looking pointedly at him, "so we're really counting on the Potion that Snape was told to brew for you, to slow down the process."

At the mention of Snape, Harry's insides twisted again in grief and disbelief. He did not want to be the son of that horrible man! Why did the fates always play against him in this way?

"He won't do it." Harry said, bitterly. "He hates me so much, he won't care that I'll change. In fact, he'll probably speed it up, to humiliate me some more." He pushed his glasses, which had gone askew on his face, up the bridge of his nose and straightened them. "And he'll tell everybody…."

Liliana's sobs had finally ceased at Harry's words. "No he won't." She assured him.

The raw edges of anger were back, and Harry got to his feet. He was clad only in boxers and a shirt – no wonder he was freezing. His breath rose in a cloudy mist before him as he shouted back, "Yes he will! Maybe you forgot, Liliana, but he practically advertised my situation in front of the whole school in Durmstrang!" His hands clenched into fists. "Who's to tell that he won't do it again? He lives to embarrass me!"

A low chuckle echoed around the room, and behind a closed door, a voice sounded. "He betrayed you…."

Everyone tensed and Paris cried out, clutching onto Harry's leg with his small arms. Harry felt his chest constrict in fear.

The laughter sounded again, and this time the voice of Bryce taunted, "I told you, Maje, the problem that you have is that you trust people too easily. I knew the moment you told that sorry excuse for a Potions Master in Durmstrang that he would tell everyone."

Paris let out a frightened moan at Bryce's words, and he clutched Harry's leg all the tighter. Harry, however, stared at the locked door with hatred. "I'll fight you, Bryce, if it's the last thing I do."

At that, Bryce barked a laugh. "No, Harry. The last thing you'll do is beg mercy before the feet of the Dark Lord, while I stand and watch. The game is up, Maje. You can try to keep me locked away but it won't last forever."

Liliana cocked her head to the side, as Maje clenched his fists. "He's a raving lunatic." She said, softly. "He can't succeed – he mustn't." She pushed herself to her feet as well, her long black hair falling around her face as she did so, hiding one eye from sight. "This is beyond all the secrets and lies you've ever kept or told," She said to Harry. "But you've got to be strong. I'm sure Hermione and Ron will understand."

"I won't be able to bear it!" Harry told her, feeling himself tremble again, but this time it wasn't because of the cold. It was in his fear. As if Paris could tell, the boy shivered too, tears rolling down his pudgy face. "I can't stand the fact that of all people Snape has to be - "

"-you must be courageous." Liliana told him, her hand ice cold against his face as she cupped his chin in her palms. She moved forward so that she kissed his forehead. "Go now, you must wake up…we'll keep Bryce at bay." Her voice was still strained with her tears, and he knew that she was trying to be strong for him. "Happy Birthday, Harry, and a Merry Christmas too….remember…"

And her voice faded into the echoes of his mind, mingled in with the peals of dark laughter ringing from behind the closed door.

In a cold sweat, Harry forced his eyes open, the feeling of a heavy blanket and a soft pillow behind his bed a very welcome feeling. The goose bumps on his arms disappeared slowly, and bit by bit, he began to warm up, shivering slightly despite the heat in the room.

Abcde lay sleeping in her lantern, peacefully, unmoving.

Remember….

But Harry did not want to remember. Liliana's words echoed in his mind, and he felt a cold dread at the thought. This was beyond any secret or lie he had ever held and it was almost too overwhelming.

Just as he grabbed his glasses, the sound of a screech made him look up. There, fluttering by his closed window, was Hedwig. She seemed unusually giddy as she hooted to get in.

Stumbling out of bed as the blankets twisted themselves around his ankles, Harry moved to the window and unlocked it, letting her fly in.

The cold air immediately swept in, causing Harry to gasp as Hedwig made a grand entrance, settling herself gently on the carpet in the middle of the room. Pushing the pane of glass back into place, Harry hurried to where she stood, proudly pushing her leg forward for him to receive the rolled piece of parchment.

"Thank you…you did well, Hedwig." Harry murmured, stroking her just under her neck where she loved it the most. He gently untied the note and after giving his owl her treat, she nipped his finger fondly before leaving the room for her much needed rest.

Sure enough, the letter came from Filip, who, it seemed, was ecstatic to hear from Harry again.

"Good to hear you've got friends. Trust me when I say that I'm sorry for the way I acted back then. I didn't know what to think after I saw you suddenly switch personalities like that. I thought you were mad. I don't know if you'll believe me, but you've got to.

And you must believe what I'm going to write next. Speaking of Professor Snape…the other day, there was a man who came around Durmstrang and I heard him speaking with Professor Karkaroff. I couldn't hear them very clearly but I heard that the man was looking for Professor Snape.

Karkaroff said that Snape was guilty (I don't know about what) and said that Snape ran away. The man was really angry, demanding where Snape had gone, but Karkaroff said he didn't know. That made the man angrier, and he put the Professor in the hospital ward. Rumors have it that Snape stole something from the man, but I don't know what to believe.

I don't even know who the man was. Couldn't see his face. But he looked right at me, and I was worried that he knew what you had written to me. Be careful, Harry – if Snape is anywhere around you, you're bound to get mixed into all this trouble too.

I sent this as early as I possibly could! If this reaches you before Christmas, I hope you'll have a great one! Keep me posted,

-Filip"

Yeah right, thought Harry, bitterly, reading the last line of the letter again. He had not had a very Merry Christmas at all. In fact, he had completely forgotten it was Christmas. With so much going on, he was certain that he would not be surprised if someone jumped him with more ridiculous news he'd never heard of.

His heart hammered against his chest again as he leaned back against the hard wood at the base board of his bed. Just great…how could he keep from being mixed up with Snape after the news he had received just the night before?

Setting down the letter, he let his eyes roam the room, letting Filip's words sink in.

Snape was on the run…did that mean he was a sort of criminal? Maybe he had committed a crime that was grave enough to put him in Azkaban. Well, technically speaking, Harry had missed the Wizard Prison by just a hair and whatever Dumbledore had done to keep Harry out of it, he had yet to find out.

The old man held so many secrets to himself that Harry could not help but be angry. He could not help but wonder just how much the Headmaster had lied to him…how much the Headmaster was still lying to him.

He let his head loll to the side, and his eyes fell on a little mountain of gifts that were piled right next to him.

For a while he stared at it, not willing to believe his eyes. He had never received anything for Christmas before, and he could not quite trust that someone – no, some people – had bothered to send him any.

Slowly, he moved to take the top most box that was nicely wrapped in a golden paper. On the top of the paper his name was written along with a message from Ron.

It was a Wizard's Chess set. And from Hermione, he received a funny little brain teaser box that would shift its shape every time he answered a question wrong and he had to figure out a way to change it back before resuming with the game.

Ron's mother had even sent him a wonderfully made jumper that would no doubt be warm under his cloak.

Finally, the last gift came from Dumbledore. Hesitating a moment, Harry had half the mind not to open it. It was a very small box, that fit neatly into the palm of his hand. In the neat writing he remembered seeing in the Headmaster's invitation to him, was a letter.

"This was James' long ago. He was quite popular at the sport. Despite your sickness, don't let it stop you from doing the things you want to try the most. Merry Christmas."

Opening the small box he saw a shining golden ball. He knew what it was: a golden snitch. Not taking it out knowing that it would fly away, he left it there, staring at it.

His father used to be very popular…no, James was not his father – Snape was. Hands clutching the box before him, he angrily threw it, feeling betrayed.

Betrayed by James.

Betrayed by Dumbledore.

Betrayed by….

Betrayed by….

No! He refused to think it!

Going to the washroom, he intended to wash up and change before going down to breakfast, where, no doubt, the rest of the school was waiting. They of course had no clue as to what had happened the night before, so they were probably laughing and carrying on with each other. He had to make himself presentable.

Splashing cold water on his face, making the fog of sleep that was still wrapped around his brain lift, Harry heaved a sigh, letting his hands linger on his face before checking himself in the mirror.

His heart felt like it fell down to his stomach at what he saw.

What were once green-gray eyes were now bright blue, staring back at him through the mirror.

The changes had begun.

To Be Continued…..

AN: And I hope that I managed to cover every loop hole and explain myself properly. If there are any questions, I hope I can answer them in the next chapter! My thanks to Jaejae, thee-unknown-factor-Incognito, Mimiheart (wow, for real? I hope I got the facts straight), Junyortrakr, optimistic girl94, and Sensibly Tainted for reading and keeping up with me thus far! Your reviews are greatly appreciated! (Yay! I'm almost at 100!)

Please review for me and the next chapter should be out soon. Thanks for reading!