Fixing Past Mistakes

Chapter 37

The Truth

Severus made his way to the living room, trying to keep a grip on his composure. Not even facing the Dark Lord had made him feel this way. He was terrified Harry would hate him for what had happened, for something that was in his past, quite literally for him a lifetime ago. The thought of Harry's hating him wounded his heart just imagining it; if it could hurt imagining, what would it be like experiencing the real thing? No, he wouldn't think on it; this had to happen whether he liked the outcome or not. He just hoped that Harry would understand that these things that had happened ... were not part of his future now.

"Are you all right, Dad?" Harry asked, looking up from his spot on the two-seater couch where he was currently fiddling with paper. He hadn't seen that look on Severus' face since he'd been attacked; that was a year ago now. The wizard had been imprisoned and would be executed for his crimes after he'd served a life sentence.

"We need to talk," Severus told Harry, his tone distracted as he sat on the main couch.

Harry bit his lip to stop himself from saying "we are;" his dad didn't look to be in the mood for much of anything today, never mind smiling or smirking or giving him a deadpan look for his cheekiness ― not that he was ever cheeky to his dad, at least not very often. "All right," Harry agreed, putting his homework to the side and levitating his schoolbag to the hallway, where it always stayed on a hook next to the cloaks.

"Come over here," Severus requested, pointing to the seat next to him.

Frowning lightly, concern churning in his gut, he took a seat beside his dad, staring at him intently as if he could somehow get the answer that way. Not that it worked; his dad just became even more closed off. "Does it have something to do with what happened last year?" Harry questioned.

"No, it has nothing to do with that," Severus revealed, his lips twisting as if he wanted to let a snarl leave his lips. He didn't even like thinking about what could have happened, never mind what actually had. If Harry had not been injured… he would have killed the damn wizard for hurting his son. His son… dear Merlin, would Harry even want to acknowledge he had been his son in a few moments? Would their relationship, that had strengthened so much over the years, be over for something that had happened when he was ignorant?

Harry said nothing to that, other than to stare, utterly baffled; his dad always had something to say, especially if it was worth speaking about. To see him like this was horrible. What could he have to say that was getting him so tongue-tied? "We aren't moving away, are we?" Harry rasped out, aghast, his eyes wide as each scenario began to play out in his head.

Severus strengthened his resolve, seeing that he was panicking his son beyond all measures. "Have you ever wondered why the house-elves call me Severus, yet everyone else has called me Septimus?" he asked, thinking perhaps that this was the best way to begin this conversation, and glean what Harry's understanding of the situation was.

"Sometimes," Harry admitted, shrugging his shoulders.

Severus nodded, not truly surprised. Harry had grown up with it; it was normal to him in some ways, so why would he truly think about it all that much? It wasn't what he would have wanted, but the House-elves knew who he truly was. They were bonded to him, so it was natural for them to wish to use his real name... just as natural for him not to want to forget who he truly was. As much as he loved this place, he wasn't truly Septimus Regis, although he wished to be very deeply. If there was anything real about this, it was his love for Harry, and the fact that Harry was his son in blood just as much as he was Lily and James'.

"That's because Septimus isn't my real name; my real name, as you probably already guessed a long time ago, is Severus, Severus Snape." The Potions Master continued, "And I am not from this time, Harry; I am a time-traveller."

"This time? But time-travel is only possible by a few hours…isn't it? That's what all the books say!" Harry asked, bewildered.

"Years ago I would have agreed with you," Severus answered, nodding his head in affirmation. "But there is a ritual that the Goblins came up with, and perfected over the years."

"But Goblins can't tolerate most wizards… so why would they help you?" Harry then asked.

Severus' lips twitched. That was his clever boy, and he read absolutely anything he could get his hands on. He had encouraged it as much as possible, letting Harry know he was proud of his hard work. Honestly, he reminded him so much of Lily. It no longer hurt to think of her; over the years her letter had been the nourishment his soul had needed to heal, as well as raising Harry. "That's a very good question, one that I didn't ask too much at the time. I think part of it was that they desperately wanted to see if it worked, but wouldn't have risked one of their own. Yet when I went back, they were very helpful, mostly to prevent the timeline from screwing up."

"Why did you go back in time? Was I different before?" Harry asked, eager for more information.

Severus' heart almost broke at the sight of his son so eager for information that could completely destroy him. How could he tell Harry he had been abandoned by everyone? That he had been a fucking arsehole, bitter and angry just because of who his father had been?

"Let me tell you a little bit about the past," Severus said softly, noticing the House-elf leaving out of the corner of his eye. "Back in Britain there was a nasty war breaking out; one wizard had decided that all non-magical or Muggle-born…"

"Muggle-Born?" Harry asked, confused by the unfamiliar term.

"Someone magical born of non-magical parents," Severus told him. There was no discrimination here; he hadn't heard the words Muggle-Born since coming here. "That is what they are referred to as over there. As I was saying, a wizard named Tom Riddle had decided that they had no place in the magical world and that non-magical people were beneath him. He is not known by that name; in fact only a few people are aware of his true origins. He goes by a name he fashioned for himself: Lord Voldemort."

"Flight of death?" Harry muttered in puzzlement as he translated the name.

"Very apt description of him; ironically enough, 'I am Lord Voldemort' is an anagram of his real name. His power grew so great that people began to fear him, and his name. Thus the press began to call him You-Know-Who, and everyone began to use it. As his hold grew, he began to attract more followers to himself. There was a time when he was extremely charismatic, persuasive, and very handsome."

"Was this during your time, before he came back?" Harry asked in horror. "How do you look so young?" His dad didn't even look thirty.

"He began to gather followers before he left school, fifty years ago nearly. This was before my time, and he travelled all over the world, learning foreign magic and rituals before returning to Britain. His presence wasn't truly felt until your mother, father, and I were in our early years at Hogwarts," Severus stated calmly. Now that he was telling the tale, he found he couldn't stop.

"What kind of rituals?" Harry enquired curiously.

"Inquisitive as ever," Severus replied in a thoughtful tone. "Ones that would help him overcome death, but regretfully there is no way to prevent yourself from dying, even with a Philosopher's Stone; if you are hit with the correct curse at the right time, there is nothing that can prevent death from taking you."

"But he doesn't have one, does he? The only one in existence belongs to Nicolas Flamel... well, known one anyway; our teacher said she'd love to see it and examine it," Harry revealed, grinning as he remembered the wistful tone in which she had spoken of it.

"No; no, he doesn't have one," Severus answered, "Although I think he would take it if the opportunity arose."

"Did you stop him, dad?" Harry wanted to know. "You said he goes by the name, not that he went by it…" he trailed off thoughtfully.

"Indeed," Severus said proudly, his black eyes glinting in a way that Harry just loved. "You are correct, he did not die, and no, I did not stop him." After a moment of building up his courage he replied, "It was you."

"It was me that what?" Harry asked blankly; he refused to believe what his dad had just said; surely he'd gotten the wrong end of the stick?

"Yes, Harry, you heard correctly: it was you. Back to the story; while at Hogwarts I became friends with wizards that your mother didn't like. She made that abundantly clear; there would have come a time when she would have asked me to choose if the incident during our fifth year... that is to say, we were fifteen," Severus explained. "During a rather humiliating experience I called your mother a rather harsh name for Muggle-Borns… and she in turn said something to me that was also rather harsh. In a moment of anger our friendship was destroyed; it didn't help that Lily, your mother, was under pressure not to associate with someone from a different house from her, especially a Slytherin."

"Being in a different house means you can't be friends with someone?" Harry asked sceptically; he didn't like the sound of Hogwarts at all. Headmaster Adison always said you should befriend people from all walks of life, that by doing that you'd learn something new and be able to understand people. In fact, Britain didn't sound nice at all; there must be a reason why this Tom Riddle believed what he did.

"At Hogwarts, yes," Severus revealed honestly; it was rare to see anyone associate with anyone outside their house, especially between Gryffindor and Slytherin. Admittedly there were the occasions when siblings were placed in different houses, causing a lapse in the complete isolation of houses. Those were usually Ravenclaw and Gryffindor, or Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw, or Hufflepuff and Gryffindor.

"What happened?" Harry asked; his dad had never told him this, not in all the stories he'd told. He had always made Hogwarts sound magical, not like this; bullying was strictly forbidden at his school. If you were caught bullying, you'd get detention for weeks at a time, and if it got bad and continued, they would make you stay inside... or if it was really bad you would be suspended. They said it was because it was so dangerous, especially with magic.

Knowing what his son was talking about Severus continued, "Your mum and I parted ways; she married your dad and had you. I, on the other hand, gained my Mastery in Potions and did a very bad thing."

"Bad thing? Is that why we came here?" Harry enquired.

"No, not really," Severus answered before going on to explain, "I began to be drawn in by the Dark Arts, became enthralled with them; I naively agreed with some of Voldemort's goals. You see, my dad wasn't a kind man, Harry; he was abusive to both my mother and me. I grew up hating non-magical people. I joined Voldemort and became a Death Eater."

"But you aren't anymore, isn't that right, dad?" Harry said firmly. He knew it was true; his dad spoke often and at length with his friends' parents, and two of them were non-magical.

"That's correct," Severus replied. "I realized how idiotic I was being, and my anger was directed at those it should have been." Well, mostly; it was only when he had taken Harry and realized he had a child that was relying on him and he couldn't keep being so bitter and angry that truly enabled him to let go of all his past hatred. Of course, Harry didn't realize what being a Death Eater was; it was just a name to him right now.

Harry nodded his head in understanding. "I don't understand what it has to do with me, dad!" he exclaimed after a few seconds.

"We're getting there," Severus chided softly, his lips twitching; so impatient. "I was a loyal Death Eater for a few years, but, like many others, we realized we had gotten in too deep; we hadn't realized what we were getting into ― who we were dealing with. You see, Harry, you don't just hand in your resignation; your service to him is for life. It wasn't until your mum and your lives were threatened that I realized what I needed to do," Severus told him. Seeing the confused look on Harry's face, he couldn't blame him; this was so much to take in and it wasn't over yet. "You see, I had overheard the beginning of a prophecy along with another Death Eater; the words were parroted back to Voldemort, and he immediately began to plan the deaths of yet-unborn children."

Harry's jaw dropped, a sick look appearing on his face.

"I went to the Headmaster of Hogwarts, Albus Dumbledore, and begged him to keep your mother safe when Lord Voldemort announced he was going after your family. Dumbledore gave me an ultimatum: either I would spy on Voldemort, or he would send me to Azkaban Prison."

"Isn't that the one with Dementors?" Harry whispered, appalled; they said in the book it was the most horrifying prison ever. That people went mad, that there was no hope for rehabilitating them. They said that they were so unhinged that most prisoners ended up back inside.

Severus raised an impressed eyebrow despite the dire conversation; perhaps he should have kept a closer eye on his son's reading habits. It couldn't be in any of the books Harry had, since the majority of them he had actually read himself. Perhaps he'd learned it at school; although why they would be discussing prisons he had absolutely no idea. "It is."

"Is that why you came back? To stay safe?" Harry then enquired. "If you came back, did that mean mum could have been saved?" He didn't think so; he knew his dad loved his mum, he could see it.

"No, son, I couldn't. The goblins weren't sure how far back the ritual would take me, it could have taken me fifty years into the past for all they knew. Unfortunately it wasn't to be, it was only seven years in total that I was able to go back. Believe me; if I could have… I would have saved them," Severus told him, squeezing his shoulder; the emotion thick in his voice showed the truthfulness of his statement. "I became Dumbledore's spy, and your parents went into hiding soon afterwards. They went under the Fidelius charm," Severus told him.

"So that's why you didn't want to talk about it," Harry whispered, guessing correctly what had happened without needing to be told. He'd asked his dad seven months ago about that charm... needing help with his homework. Usually his dad would tell him vocally, but instead he'd given him a book and gone to his potions lab. That hadn't been like his dad, but he hadn't thought much of it at the time. "You were a spy?" He couldn't help but be awed; his dad was like James Bond!

"It did bring the past flashing back," Severus admitted, removing his hand from his son's shoulder; would it be welcomed when he heard everything? "Then on Halloween our world came crashing down around us." Yes, both of them; Harry had lost his family, and he had lost the only thing he had given a shit about back then. Harry must already be going numb with the influx of information… he hadn't reacted to the knowledge that his parents had been viciously betrayed by someone who trusted them with their lives.

Harry's eyes widened again, and he swallowed thickly; his dad had never told him how his parents had died, just that they would have given anything to raise him... that they'd loved him more than anything else in the world. Seeing his dad's pain, he had stopped asking.

"Your parents were betrayed; they trusted the wrong man with their lives. The Dark Lord Voldemort went to your home at Godric's Hollow," Severus told him weakly; he had never wanted to tell him. Stupidly he had just wished they could remain secluded, that Harry would remain a child forever. How could he still be a child after hearing all this? "Your father tried his hardest to fight Voldemort, but he didn't stand a chance." The image of James Potter flashed through his mind, dead to the world. "Don't get me wrong, your dad was very capable; he was an Auror after all, and that is the hardest job to acquire in the Britain." Within the Ministry of Magic, at least.

"How?" Harry asked.

"He went painlessly, Harry," Severus said honestly. "The killing curse."

Harry swallowed thickly, nodding and holding back tears. Somehow it didn't comfort him at all.

"Your mother was found up the stairs, next to your cot. Obviously nobody knows exactly what happened, but your mother must have cast some powerful sacrificial magic, because blood wards were created out of it," Severus told him. "Dumbledore sent Hagrid, the Keeper of Keys and Grounds at Hogwarts, to retrieve you from the ruins of Godric's Hollow. He was ordered to take you to the only family you had left."

Harry blinked, only family he had left? He was too distracted by that to get emotional over knowing what happened to his mum, "I didn't go straight to you, did I?" The images from his nightmares flashed back to haunt him. But they were hazy at best; he shook off those thoughts, refusing to dwell on them.

"No; no, Harry, you didn't," Severus sighed softly in defeat. "Dumbledore used your mother's sacrifice to activate the blood wards, to keep you safe from the remaining Death Eaters. He forgot that sometimes those that should care, family, just don't.

"Your godfather, Sirius Black, was arrested for their murder; everyone assumed he was the Secret Keeper," Severus continued bitterly. "Then the celebrations started. They hailed you a hero, dubbing you with the title of the Boy-Who-Lived." Forgetting the deaths that it had cost them to live their insipid cowardly lives.

"Assumed? That's the bad thing everyone thought he did?" Harry stated, remembering that from the bedtime stories his dad used to tell him.

"Yes," Severus confirmed. "But it wasn't as simple as that. In his fury, Sirius Black tracked down the real traitor, who was more cunning than anyone could have anticipated. He began to goad your godfather, shouting at the top of his lungs, asking why he had betrayed them, and then the traitor used a blasting curse, in the process killing twelve non-magical people before cutting his own finger off and turning into an Animagus form and fleeing down the sewers. Black was arrested for their murders and your parents' before being carted off to Azkaban without a trial." When everything calmed down, when they let their guard down, the Death Eaters had gone after the Longbottoms and cursed them into insanity. Yes, James Potter's death had been painless; what they'd done to Frank and Alice…was beyond comprehension.

"Why didn't you make sure they knew who it really was?" Harry asked perturbed.

"I was warned against changing time too much; if I did, I could potentially be causing a rift in time," Severus said softly. "Knowing that the past couldn't be changed too much, your godfather still said he would take the punishment all over again, but if it's any consolation, I did what I could for him, Harry." Despite the fact he didn't like him... and probably never would.

"I know you would, dad," Harry told him. "Who was it?"

"Peter Pettigrew; he befriended your father at the same time as your godfather and another, Remus Lupin. You will like him, he is very much like you; he loves to read," Severus told him wryly.

"What happened to him? Is he still alive?" Harry's green eyes were filled with fire and anger, probably for the second time in his life.

"I have no idea, the probability of him being alive is extremely likely. I came back before we could find out," Severus revealed.

"We?" Harry was curious now.

"Everything was quiet for the next ten years until the night you were due at Hogwarts… your name was called out, but nobody stepped forward." Severus managed to get that out without choking on his own words. He couldn't look at Harry's green eyes, he just couldn't. "As soon as the sorting was over, Albus Dumbledore, Minerva McGonagall― who is the Transfiguration teacher, head of Gryffindor House, and Deputy Headmistress of Hogwarts, and myself went to Privet Drive to find out why you didn't get on the train to Hogwarts."

Harry reared back as if he'd been struck, moving away from Severus; he didn't want to know. Regardless, he stared at his dad, barely able to conceal his accusation and betrayal. The only thing keeping him sitting there was the hope that he was wrong. Why wouldn't his dad raise him? It made no sense; he just wanted this to be a nightmare he would wake up from. He shook his head blindly, his heart pounding loudly; he didn't want to hear this.

"Your aunt and uncle, the Dursleys, they no longer lived there, or that was what we were told by the people living there. Nobody was willing to speak to us regarding them; the only other person who could have told us was also absent, a Squib by the name of Arabella Figg, and so Dumbledore demanded I find out while he and Minerva travelled back to Hogwarts to see if they could find an address for you," Severus told him, never once able to meet his eyes; he didn't want to see the betrayal written in those beautiful eyes that had only ever looked at him with love.

"Don't!" Harry didn't want to hear this but he was stuck on the spot, unable to move.

"I found the information and went back to Hogwarts with it," Severus continued speaking, despite the fact he didn't want to; Harry had to know everything. "It was I who agreed to prepare you for a magical burial, but I found something I did not expect…"

"What do you mean?" Harry breathed out, hope blooming renewed that somehow he hadn't been abandoned.

"I could feel my own magic… dark magic... surrounding you, but only when the goblins began discussing it did I realise what it was… a Golem imbued with your blood and hair that I had created… my other self had already taken you from the Dursleys and left it in your place…what I was seeing was evidence of a time paradox," Severus explained. "Do not try to understand it; I've known for nearly seven years and I still don't truly get it."

Swallowing the bile back, Harry jumped to his feet and bolted towards his bedroom, his head spinning; he couldn't even begin to process everything he'd learned. Throwing himself on his bed, the tears began to pour relentlessly down his face. He grabbed one of the teddies he didn't use anymore, but had kept since he'd had it forever, and hugged it close, needing some form of comfort.

Severus watched Harry's retreat unsurprised, his black eyes tormented. Did he give Harry space? Or did he force him to face it? In the end he couldn't take it; standing up after a few minutes of silence, he began to walk towards Harry's bedroom, unsure of the reception he'd receive. His heart jerked painfully when he heard his son's crying; it always made him feel like a failure. Exhaling shakily, he moved over to the bed and began to stroke the back of the boy's head, saying nothing... knowing there was nothing he could say to make it better.

Feeling his dad so close, Harry couldn't help it; he leapt towards him, hugging him around the middle, desperate for comfort. He continued to cry; he couldn't stop it, not even when it was difficult to breathe because of it. Then his dad began speaking, and he forgot everything, even crying as he listened.

"I love you, son. I always have and always will; nothing will change that. I regret a lot in my life…but there is one thing I am most proud of, one thing I know I did right... and that's you," Severus confessed as a single tear made its way down his face. He had sworn never to let anything hurt Harry, yet he had caused him the biggest hurt of all. "I thought coming back to fix things was my second chance… but it wasn't: you were. You helped me start living; before you, I just existed. There is no parent prouder of his son than I am of you."

Edited by Jake and Jordre Thank you guys!