Hidden Things
Ostendo Pater

xxx

For the next week and a half Severus Snape was scarcely seen by anyone but the students in his classes, and even there he was very quiet. He had not lost his attitude towards them completely, of course, practicing his general cynicism at the best of times. But though he himself may not realize it, each biting comment was coupled with something else. Something undetectable by most, but not Professor Dumbledore. He had noticed the occasional gleam in the younger man's eyes. It was a flash of emotion very rarely seen and when manifested, could only be understood as such by one who excelled at judging character in others. Snape was on edge.

Remus Lupin did not consider himself an expert on the psychology of others. Least of all with people like Severus, but he had to admit when Dumbledore had confided his thoughts on the matter, he could now see why the Headmaster would make such a supposition. Lupin had wandered into Potions one afternoon to borrow a few ingredients for a demonstration he was planning to give his own class. Snape had been waspish with one of the timid Third Years; that was not unexpected, but the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher had glimpsed a strange thing after the child scuttled away from the desk of their teacher. Severus had grasped the edge of the desk until his fingers were pale, his brow furrowed and his lips set tight. And the barest of glances had trailed to where Lupin was rummaging around in a cupboard. It wasn't much to go on, perhaps Severus was merely annoyed by his presence, but there was a certain scent in the air that only one person at Hogwarts could possibly detect.

Being a werewolf had it's advantages, despite the terrible curse of living with being one. What Lupin lacked in training about the interpretation of body language, he made up for in the gift of heightened senses and awareness. He could smell something a little bit different than the usual aroma associated with children being intimidated by Severus Snape. It was a nervousness that went further, bubbling just beneath the surface of the rest of the scents in the room.

And not only that, but Lupin had been able to feel it almost tangibly. He rarely failed to predict the coming of a storm, a feat not uncommon in those with animal associations, and there in the dungeons he had felt the tension on the air just the same. Something was going on. He had felt it with every intuitive sense he possessed.

This something coupled with an official reason brought Professor Lupin to the door of Snape's office on Friday night. It was late, he knew, but hoped not too late. A detention with a quarreling pair of Hufflepuffs had kept him overdue. Remus raised his hand, knocked and waited for a few moments until he was called. Within Severus was at his desk, eyes on an envelope before him. When he looked up, he did not appear pleased to see the werewolf friend of his hated enemies.

"A bit early in the month for your usual, I think," he commented sourly, then stowed the envelope away into a drawer.

Remus approached without invitation and seated himself across from Snape, leaning back and crossing his ankle over his knee. "Of course, Severus. I haven't for that, but for another reason."

Snape looked up with glaring eyes. "Which is?"

Reaching into his pocket, the Defense teacher removed a small paper and placed it on the desk. The other man snatched it up rapidly, dark eyes flitting over the written request of their Headmaster. It was only one word. The name of a potion. Severus crumbled the little paper in his hand. "An odd request."

Lupin nodded once. "These are odd times. You are aware of my mission tomorrow night?"

The moment between the question and reply passed just a few seconds too long. Snape leaned back in his chair, folding his arms across his chest. "I am aware of it. I fail to see how this potion is going to aid you in any way, however, given your particular chemistry."

"It is not for me," Remus told him, waving his hand. "My contact requires a little incentive for our exchanges. What he wishes with it, I do not know, nor has Professor Dumbledore confided in me any guesses of his. Can you have it ready by then?"

Severus looked at the paper he had left on the desk surface, then nodded slowly. "I can. It will not cure your little... friend's vampirism, if that is what he expects, however. This protection only works before the victim is killed by the venom and blood loss."

"Then I suppose he must have another intention for it." Lupin sighed at Snape's curt tones. The familiar, vague scent he had caught in the dungeons was back. Eyeing his colleague thoughtfully, he ventured, "You look tired, Severus."

"Thank you for that most kindly compliment," Snape responded dryly.

This conversation wasn't getting off on the right foot. Lupin shook his head. "I'm only inquiring because I'm concerned."

"You needn't be."

"Are you sure about that?" A moment of tension silenced them both before Remus went on. "I can appreciate the terrible position you're in..."

Snape cocked his head, eyes dangerous and interrupted, "Can you?" Dark amusement painted those dark features of his.

Frustration washed over the werewolf. Why did this man have to be so infuriatingly bitter? It bothered Remus to be unable to reach him. "Damn it, Severus, is it really so hard to believe I might genuinely care for your well being? You've spent all your life living in shadows. Perhaps I wasn't a good friend to you in school, but I understand my mistakes now. We all need to grow up."

"Oooh," Snape drawled in a sickeningly sweet mockery of being touched. "And now poor Lupin wishes to atone for his sins."

"You better than anyone else should understand atonement, I should think," Lupin snapped quickly.

After staring a long moment, face unreadable, Snape hissed, "Get the hell out of my office." His hand shot towards the doorway, pointing Remus out.

Knowing when he shouldn't push, Remus respected the other's wishes and headed for the door, pausing briefly to look at Snape, who was still glaring. Lupin sighed. "I do genuinely care for your welfare, Severus, like it or not. It's not too late."

"Not too late to what, exactly?" Snape growled, then seated himself once more. Indeed, that was the question. One never to believe the worst in others without due cause, Lupin gave the other man the benefit of the doubt. Yet there were times that looking into those black eyes with their unfeeling cold begged the question—whose side was Snape on? If indeed his hint had hit any mark, Lupin could not guess from Snape's expression as he said, "I will have your potion by the appointed time, do not worry. Oh, and one other thing." It was an afterthought, a bemused summons that stopped Remus with the door half open.

"Yes?"

"Has Potter confided anything strange to you?" Those dark, glittering eyes watched his very carefully. Always studying, always aware of everything, the werewolf thought.

Lupin moved his eyes to his hands, fidgeting thoughtfully, debating on what to say. Irritated suspicion won over privacy. "Tthere was something strange. It seems someone gave him the idea that James was not his father. Why do you ask? Was it you that made him think that?"

"Don't be stupid," Snape whispered, but it only a half-hearted retort. Remus looked up and saw the Potions Master's eyes on his own desk. He seemed suddenly more pale than usual. "I think Potter is up to something. That is why I ask." He still did not look up, muttering darkly, "He would only be so lucky if that pitiful excuse for a wizard were not his father, but the idea is preposterous. Complete idiocy."

"You go too far," Remus responded, puzzled by Snape's reaction. He had the sudden feeling he had just walked into some sort of trap in which the man before him had gained information that Lupin himself was not aware of. This whole conversation was leading nowhere he thought it should. "Look, Severus, I won't keep you any longer. But do you have any advice? Is there anything I should know before I go on this mission for Albus?"

As Snape's black gaze seemed to move to his in thought, Remus fidgeted again. "What on earth would I know that you, the Defense Against the Dark Arts expert in this school, would not?"

Lupin shook his head, saying softly, "I don't know." He was wearied of Snape's verbal combat and defensive behavior. Not bothering to say another word, he left the Potions Master to his own thoughts.

xxx

Elsewhere that night, Harry paced the dorm back and forth, eyes straying to the bottle on the night stand. He had not used it since that terrible night and was afraid to even now, but it was getting to a point where he was either going to have to do it or get rid of the rest of it. The sickly substance inside could no longer be seen when peering into the dark bottle, which was lighter in weight than when Harry had last held it. Hermione theorized the potion was probably evaporating. Some potions could expire, lose their potency, or yes, even dissipate over time.

Harry had another idea of what might have happened to some of it. During classes, Snape never said anything directly, but there was something inquisitive about his expression whenever he looked at the student. There had been a few remarks made as well, little things like a glance as he told Malfoy, 'Very good, Draco. It seems I was not wrong inchoosing to mentoryou' and today, saying, 'I know I am not yourfather, Potter, but if you would simply listen to my instructions...' He knew something, if not all of it. And the longer Harry kept the potion in question, the longer Snape had to find it and unravel the whole puzzle. Tomorrow night they would be training again and he had little doubt that at that point the Potions Master would attack to gain his information.

But though part of Harry wanted to simply dispose of the rest of it, another part of him screamed he could not. He had been thoroughly convinced of his own resolution that Snape was not his father, but now he just wasn't sure. Especially not after Snape had chosen that particular word to aid his sarcasm this afternoon. Father. What if? What if? Pausing near the bed, he stopped and looked at the potion with a measure of resent. Why had he listened to Ron? Why did he have to get himself into this mess? He resisted the urge to kick the night stand.

"Mental, he's gone," Ron said mildly to Hermione, who was petting Crookshanks on the red-head's bed. The three of them were alone. "It was bound to happen, I suppose. One too many hits on the head. Bludgers, you know."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Oh, Ronald." Her chocolate eyes flitted to Harry in concern. "What's wrong anyway? You've been nervous all week. You have the potion back. You know it's the Blood Trance, right?"

Harry nodded and sat down on his own bed. "It is. I'm sure of it. You're sure of it. We looked together."

"Then why are you so afraid?"

Silence descended upon the room as he tried to figure out how he could answer them. He had thought it would grow better, this uncertainty twisting inside of him like he had swallowed a snake. He had thought he would forget the vision he had seen, dismiss it in his heart, but it was only growing worse. But to tell them? That he could be... No. He couldn't be Snape's son.

A form imposed itself at the door, knocking lightly on the wood. Startled, the three students looked up quickly, finding Professor Lupin standing there in the threshold. "May I?" he asked gently, seeming to sense the disquiet in the room. Harry nodded wordlessly and ran a hand through his messy hair. He made room for Lupin on the bed, but the Professor did not sit down. Instead, he nodded towards the door and said, "I wonder if I might have a private word with you, Harry?"

Hermione and Ron looked even more concerned now than before. Exchanging glances, they slid off Ron's bed and left quietly. Last one out, Hermione gave Harry a reassuring glance, then disappeared down the stairwell. The silence in the room grew deafening. Harry looked up into his teacher's eyes, unable to quell the growing unease taking hold of him. There were any number of things going on he wasn't quite sure he was ready for Lupin to know. "Can I help you, Professor?" he managed.

Lupin retreated to Ron's bed and sat down. "I'm not sure. Harry, are you up to something you shouldn't be?"

His first impulse was to shake his head. So automatic was the instinct that he did, in fact. But he knew Lupin was not fooled by the measuring gaze he was rewarded. A distinct disappointment flashed in his eyes, and Harry decided to give a little. "Yes, I have been doing something. I can't deny it."

"You…know you can trust me with anything?" the Professor said a bit haltingly, as if trying very carefully to choose his words well. Of course he could be trusted with Harry's life. Harry made no argument against that. Anything the man did would be for his own good. He knew that, but what if this Snape thing was too much? What would they think of him? What would he think of himself? Harry couldn't stand to consider it, but even still knew that if he did not get to the bottom of this, it would eat him away inside. He was having more trouble in Potions than ever.

A shaky breath drew into his tight feeling lungs as he decided he could not afford to keep this secret hidden anymore. Not from everyone. "I know I can." He knew, but was still reluctant to speak of it. Little bits of information, little increments given with careful observation of the other man's reaction, that couldn't hurt, could it?

"Would you tell me, then, what is going on? Would you trust me that far? I was a Marauder, after all." A bare smile touched his mouth. "You know I'm not going to see you punished unduly."

"It's not even that," Harry said, his voice thick and so unsure. He had to take another breath before he was even sure he could speak it. "What if James wasn't my father? What if I knew he wasn't?"

He heard Lupin sigh as he stood up, pacing much as Harry had a few moments ago. "If that were so, then I would care for you no less. I would have hoped you would know me better than that. But I just don't think..."

"Don't you?" Harry looked up sharply. "How can you be so sure?"

The Professor eyed him for a long time, a battle between secrets and trust going on inside Remus, Harry was sure. It was then he realized Lupin wasn't as certain as he had seemed. "All right, Harry," he said evenly, coming to sit beside him. "I can tell for you to trust me, I am going to have to show equally that I can trust you. The truth is, when you were born I wasn't sure. Wasn't, Harry. Pay attention to that word. For a long while Lily was very sad. In fact, the day she learned she was carrying you did not lighten her mood as I thought it must. I came to a very difficult conclusion, Harry. I am not proud of it."

"You thought I didn't belong to James."

Lupin nodded slowly. "I thought perhaps... You see, Sirius was a close friend of theirs as you well know. As was I, but I knew she had never expressed any interest in me. Nor would I have allowed her to give into that if she had after James. So Sirius was the most logical conclusion I could make."

Harry's heart pounded. His chest hurt unlike anything he had ever felt before. Lupin had thought Lily and Sirius were carrying on an affair. The idea gave him mixed emotions, but it didn't add up to what the Blood Trance was showing him. "Did you ever ask either of them?" he demanded, a little more shaken than he had prepared for.

The teacher pursed his lips, looking very uncomfortable now. Had he learned from Lily that she had been with someone other than James? Remus stood up and wandered across the room. "I confronted Sirius, Harry. I would never dream of asking Lily something like that. Not unless I was certain. It would hurt her too much if I were wrong." He turned back, leveling Harry a very firm look. "Sirius denied it and I believed him. He was very angry with me for even asking. And you don't look like him, now that I see you older. That's all there is to it."

"But what if you're wrong?" Harry snapped before he could stop himself. Lupin's wide-eyed stare made him sigh. "I'm sorry, but I'm just not so sure."

"What makes you so certain that James is notyour father?"

The information was being pried out of him too quickly now, he had to hold off before he said too much. "I never said I was certain..."

"Then what makes you suspect?" Lupin wasn't going to leave it alone, however. It was too much weight to bear.

It came out in a rush. "The Blood Trance!" Harry rubbed his forehead and angrily motioned at the bottle on the nearby table. He hated whoever made the stupid concoction. "It's a trance drug. It shows you what you want to see."

He did not see Lupin's bright, shining eyes glaring at the bottle in revulsion. "Oh, I know what it does, Harry. And you should not be using it. It's dangerous!"

"But don't you see, I have to if I'm going to find out who my father is!" Harry snatched the bottle quickly, turning it over in his hands. "I have to know."

Remus stared at his hands, as if he might somehow get the potion away from him. "This is a powerfully dark potion, Harry. You don't know what you're getting into. Have you used it at all yet?"

"Yes, I've used it. I tried to see Sirius." The Professor flinched, then sighed in understanding. A new sense of mourning washed through Harry. "I tried to see my father, too. It wasn't James Potter I saw."

"You uttered the incantation wrong," Lupin assumed.

"Ostendo Pater. I concentrated on trying to see my father and was led to someone else."

"Who?"

Harry shook his head, turning away with a shamed look. Snape could not be his father. He could not be. Not the man that hated him most. Not the man he hated. "Let me use the potion one last time. If it doesn't work out, I'll forget it completely. I swear."

Professor Lupin sank down once more upon Ron's bed, leaning his elbows against his legs, watching Harry for a very long time. A new wave of weariness seemed to wash over the man. "The Blood Trance potion is dangerous. It's a poison, Harry. The poisonous effects are required to put your mind into such a state as to be able to extract the visions you see. Drink too much and you could become seriously ill, or even die."

"I only have a little left," Harry persisted, desperate. "Madam Pomfrey, or even...even Snape could help if it comes to something going wrong. Please, Professor. Remus. For my dad's sake."

No amount of begging could make the werewolf appear like he liked the idea, that was for sure. Remus pursed his lips into a straight line, glaring at the bottle in the boy's hands. "I don't like this, Harry. I'm inclined to deny you right now. But I see how important this is for you. Let me drink what you have left. Let me see if I can find out who your true father is."

Harry's heart sank as he shook his head. If Lupin refused him, he would never know. "I have to see for myself. If you never let me do anything reckless again, please. Let me do this. It's only been a few times. I'm not dying."

The breadth of time between the question and the answer was filled with such tension Harry felt he could scarcely breathe. But in the end, he saw it in Lupin's eyes before he even said a word. "If you're anything like your father, James Potter, Harry, then you're going to do this whether or not I take the potion from you. As I don't want you doing this unsupervised, I will allow it now on the condition you agree never to try this again. The Blood Trance draught lasts in your system for years. You could end up killing yourself later on."

"Thank you," Harry breathed, greatly relieved. He took the stopper out of the bottle, fully prepared to see this through.

"Lie down, Harry," Remus ordered quietly, still looking very unsure. He glanced towards the stairs. "If anyone comes up I must tell them you collapsed with a fever. You will have to simply endure any embarrassment that may cause. I am staying for observation. Concentrate on the moment of your conception. It is nothing you'll want to see, I'm sure, but it's the only way to be certain. Your father at conception, Harry. Remember that."

Obeying immediately, he did as the teacher told him and laid back, feeling a little churlish about the cover story, but not willing to argue. He was nervous about what he was going to see, already feeling sick at his stomach because of the fear he would see Snape again and the disgust at trying to see his own conception take place. It made him hesitate long enough for Remus to watch his eyes, hope reflecting back that Harry would stop this foolishness at once. But he was determined. With a shaking hand, Harry lifted the bottle, drank and muttered, "Ostendo Pater."

The world began to drift away from him. Harry had not even realized he had closed his eyes. Dizziness caused him to waver, making a scene of trees to blur into nothingness. But something caught his attention, something he had heard during his last vision. Chimes in the distance. Harry gritted his teeth and resolutely forced himself to think of his father and the idea of him creating life.

In the darkness he saw a single flame come to life. Harry watched it dance, illuminating a wall on one side and being drowned out by a starry blackness on the other. Harry wandered towards the candle and reached out, running his fingers along the fire instinctively. It did not burn. "Dad, where are you?" he whispered. His voice echoed as if he were in a cathedral. The chimes jingled again and there was the sound of wind, but no visible evidence of either. He touched the cracked, gray wall shining in the candlelight. It fluttered to pieces.

A sound compelled him to turn around. "What do you want of me?" asked a very harsh sounding voice.

He followed that voice into a hallway that seemed to trail on forever. Little snakes crawled on the ground with him, black little strips of scales shuffling through dead lily petals and thorns on a scuffed looking wooden floor. At the end Harry found a small room with bookshelves lining the walls. And a black form. He was not wearing the traditional robes he wore in school, but something very similar. His dark hair was a shroud along his face, obscuring much of his expression. Except for those black, glittering eyes. They were fixed on a form across from him.

Harry turned seeing a woman standing there, with long red hair and telltale eyes. Kind eyes, concerned eyes. Lily held her hands together, resolve written along her beautiful face. "Please, Severus. I know the circles in which you travel. You don't have to do this. You don't have to make this choice."

The choice had already been made, it seemed, from the look of dark certainty on Snape's expression. Those eyes were not the eyes of a bitter teacher that hated his enemy's son. Those eyes were ashamed, longing, dead. At his feet Harry could feel the little snakes winding along his ankles, wrapping themselves around as if to drag him down to his knees. Another wave of nausea threatened his concentration, causing all but the voices to blur for a bare moment. As if echoing that Snape whispered, "Just go." It wasn't an order, nor a hateful unfinished threat. It was a tired sounding noise as if he could not force the woman before him out of his presence even if his life depended on it. "Go back to your…stag."

"We've been friends since we were children," Lily replied, and the information rocked Harry. She didn't move, nor would she be moved. "You must know I'll always have love for you. I'll stop you from this path, Severus. I'll save you from him."

A bitter laugh hit the air, reminding Harry of just who he was watching. Dad, Harry whispered, pushing his mind. Shadows seemed to crawl around and caress his mother, and the sight of it made him sick. The laughter died on Snape's lips almost as quickly as it had come. "You don't know you're getting into. You don't know how deep I'm in. You have a future. Go to it." Regret seized the air and Harry felt physically heavier. "Let go of me."

His mother now moved forward, her pale hands reaching, tangling into his, pulling them near her heart. "I love him," she breathed, nakedly admitting the truth, causing Snape to look away. "I have a pathway, but I will follow you down yours until I bring you back. I won't…" Snape tried to pull away, the walls he wore around him clearly faltering as Lily reached up to touch his face. "I love you. I won't let you go. You're my best friend. And I'll always love you."

When her voice broke so did his resolution. He kept his eyes away from hers, looking for a way out even as they grew moist. Lily wouldn't let him escape, wrapping her arms around his waist, and letting out a shaking breath Snape crushed her to him, snaking fingers through her hair. He rested his cheek against her head and whispered, "Damn you, woman." Those dead eyes glared out the window as black flower petals fell like snow. A snake crawled along the windowsill, tongue flicking and tail rattling. Water found Snape's cheeks. "You don't know what he's like, what he'll do. You…you have no idea the things I've done. My god, if you knew…"

"It's okay," she answered his despair, pulling back to look up into his shining gaze. Her fingers swept his cheek of its grief. "It doesn't matter what you've done. I'll always love you." Numbly, Harry watched as his mother drew this hated man to her, pressing her lips against his. "Ostendo Pater," he whispered, wishing the scene would change, but it didn't. Snape did not throw her from him as Harry wished he would, but allowed the kiss to continue into something more than a mere peck.

Here was the proof and felt as dead as Snape had looked. He had no desire to see anything more. One of the snakes at Harry's ankle bit into his flesh as he shoved seeing his father as far away from his thoughts as he could.

When he awoke with a start the bite still ached, but Harry couldn't think straight enough to care. He sat bolt upright, caught by the hands of Professor Lupin, who called his name. Harry couldn't respond. His heart was racing and his lungs deprived. He coughed hard, murmuring thoughtlessly, "How could she? How could she?" He barely registered Hermione and Ron looking down at him until his female friend spoke.

"We've got to get Madam Pomfrey," she said urgently, waking Harry from his thoughts.

His hand darted out to grasp at her robe in desperation. "No!" he hissed, eyes flashing darkly at her even as he fought another storm of coughing. "No one...can know!"

"Harry, you've got to calm down. Take deep breaths," Lupin said gently, trying to hold him. He looked positively white with worry and regret for letting it go this far. "You need a healer. Would you prefer Professor Snape? He'll know what to give you and he won't ask questions. I'll make sure of that."

The look Harry shot Lupin must have been much more venomous than he had planned, for the teacher started for a second, then looked poised to hold Harry down against his will. Gasping in another breath, Harry shook his head. "No, don't. I'll be fine. Don't worry." He forced himself to calm down.

Lying back, he closed his eyes and covered his mouth, trying not to cough, but could not stop for long moments. He felt Lupin touch his forehead to check for a fever, then heard the man sigh, "I'm a fool."

Harry grasped at the teacher's sleeve. It was vital Lupin tell no one. He couldn't tell Snape. He just couldn't! "I saw what I had to." Another gasping breath fought its way into his lungs as he concentrated on breathing. "I'll be fine. I was last time. Just...need sleep."

"Harry, I still think..."

"No!" He coughed hard and had to rest a moment to regain his strength. "No Snape! No Madam Pomfrey. Please. I'm calm."

Looking haggard with worry, Remus shook his head and took the bottle from the blanket where it had landed. "If you're not better by tomorrow afternoon, I'm going to take you to Madam Pomfrey, if I have to drag you there forcibly. Do you understand me, Harry?" His voice was sharp, angry because of the fear he must feel.

Harry squeezed the man's arm gratefully, nodding his head. He would have to be well by then. There was nothing else he could do. There was no way he was going to be questioned by anyone about this. There was no way he would answer anyone if they did ask.

"You have your morning classes off tomorrow. I'll write you a permission note and your friends will gather your assignments. Now you're going to go to sleep." There was no order he would rather obey more. He felt Lupin's weight lift from the bed, even as he closed his eyes. But before departing, his teacher had one more question to ask. "Who was it you saw in your dream? It wasn't Sirius, was it?"

"No," he found himself replying without thought, then cursed having given that much away. But he was so tired. So tired and so terribly numb with shock inside. It couldn't be true, but it was. Unless... "Are the Blood Trances ever wrong?" he whispered opening his eyes slightly.

"It could be wrong if you didn't do it right," Lupin said, but did not look hopeful. He gave Harry a pleading look. "Who was it?"

Harry could barely suppress a sour little laugh that sounded harsh against the quiet of the room as he answered, "Not James Potter." He closed his eyes again and no one spoke to him afterwards. Lupin left and the curious Gryffindors he had not even known were there filed back into their beds, chattering softly amongst themselves. He couldn't bring himself to care how he looked just now. Sleep did not find him easily.

xxx

Author: Ruse angelruseATgmailDOTcom

Disclaimer: Harry and company belong to the wonderful J., whom I thank personally for the deliciousness that is Snape.

A/N: - I've changed this chapter since I wrote it, most notably the scene between Lily and Severus, to reflect the direction I'm going to make the story take now through my revisions.