It was during the late August of 1995 that Severus Snape received a package for which he would forever be thankful for. It was the summer holidays and he was spending it in the grim isolation of his home on Spinner's End brewing potions and attending every Death Eater meeting he was called to. Despite the fact that he hated these meetings and wished he didn't have to attend, he would later consider this summer as one of the best summers of his life.
On one particularly bright August morning, Severus was reading his book in one of the comfortable armchairs in the lounge when he was disturbed by a peculiar though familiar tapping on the window. He looked up, his face twitching slightly with irritation, and glanced at the window. Severus felt a twinge of recognition as he saw a barn owl outside, perched on a small parcel on the window sill, which was clearly to be delivered to him. He put his book down and pulled the window open. The owl fluttered inside, dropping a letter and the package on the couch, and then landing comfortably on one of the side tables.
Severus gave the owl another glance before offering it an owl pellet from a dish on the side. He then returned his attention to his delivery, wondering what on earth it could be. He picked up the letter first, and sliced it open. He unfolded the letter, and was gifted with the writing of the woman he missed most dearly in the world:
My dearest, Severus,
If you receive this letter, all our plans have fallen through, and Dumbledore hasn't sought to rectify them. I prepare this letter and parcel so that shortly after Harry's fifteenth birthday you will know the truth once more, and so will Harry. Severus, you and I were married, and Harry is our child. When you began spying for the Order, we decided that to protect him, we would have to remove your memories and James would protect me and Harry. To an onlooker, it would appear James and I were married and Harry was ours, especially after the glamour I put on him to make him look like James. What you need to know though, is this was all fake. I loved you and Harry loved you. He didn't connect with James the way he connected with you. Not that he needed to. If you are receiving this letter, Sirius is still Harry's godfather. We needed to make it so that it would look believable and I'm sorry for any pain this will cause you now. Hopefully the war is over when you get this too. I know this is a lot of information for you but I want you and Harry to have a relationship. He needs a father. Speaking of our son, when this letter reaches you, he will experience changes to his appearance as the glamour disappears. He truly is his father's son. You'll see.
I don't want to say too much. The vials included in the package will recover your memories and allow you to remember everything that really happened.
Just know that we both loved him so much, and he will be loved again when he finds out you're his father. I know you will protect him and do your best for him.
I love you, Severus,
Always
Lily.
Severus slipped down onto the sofa, hardly daring to breathe. He could not believe it. The pampered Potter boy was his son? The boy who had made his life a living hell? The boy for whom he had made life a living hell?
Taking a deep breath, Severus reached over towards the larger package, pulling away the brown paper carefully, his hands trembling, something they had not done for many, many years. Inside were two ornate wooden boxes. He ran his long fingers over both boxes and then opened the smaller, square one. On velvet cushioning sat two wedding rings, both with the word Always engraved on the golden band. Hesitating, he picked up the one that looked like it belonged to him and placed it on his ring finger. He stared down at it for a moment, a tingling in his fingers, as if its magic was reconnecting with his. It was almost as if he could feel the bond he made with Lily running through his blood and bones.
After a moment, he opened the rectangular box which was still sitting in the packaging on his lap. A glass vial filled with a greyish coloured liquid sat in this box and he diligently took it out, not wanting to smash it. He headed for his study where he kept his pensieve. He emptied the vial into the shimmering bowl and then brought his head down to meet the memories which were finally about to be restored to him.
Severus rifted through over a hundred memories of himself and Lily and their son, who was actually called Harry Snape: he saw the day he married Lily, which had been witnessed by only James, Dumbledore, and Frank and Alice Longbottom; he saw the day she told him she was pregnant, the joy in their eyes as Severus twirled her around the room and then rested his hands on her stomach; he saw the day his son was born, the bright emerald green eyes, which reflected his mother's, staring up at him; he saw the day that Harry crawled - that was the day Severus had gone to a death eater meeting and got back late but his family had waited up for him, Harry not settling until he got home, and Severus was the only one could get him to fall asleep that night; he saw the day the memories were taken from him to protect his family whilst he spied for the Order and attempted to protect them from the prophecy's predictions.
He pulled back at the final memory, struggling to breathe as he was returned to his life, and was struck by the many emotions he felt at this one time. He was shocked and yet anger swept through him like a raging fire. For the last fourteen years, his life had been a lie. He had been left with the barest minimum and Dumbledore hadn't even bothered to tell him the truth and return the memories that would have been his saviour from the resentment he had built up at both the world and Harry, specifically. He should have known better all those years ago than to trust Dumbledore with the most important thing in his life - his family - and he would sure as damn not do it again. He could feel his anger spilling over onto Harry - the boy who seemed to be always upending his life - but as soon as he felt this, guilt washed over him. Harry didn't know the truth, and this in turn made Severus angrier. The boy had been living under the pretense of false parentage and this needed to be rectified. But why would Harry accept him? There was no way that Harry would want Severus for a father after the abhorrent way he had treated him. He felt anger at himself then, but also a new sensation came over him. An overwhelming need to protect the boy and to love him as he had done all those years ago instead of resenting him for the sins of James Potter who he apparently wasn't even related to.
As Severus recovered his memories and experienced a whole heap of emotions, the feelings of love, in the heart he had once thought he no longer possessed, came out on top. He stared around the room in which he was so often isolated, and couldn't stop the thoughts that next summer, this room might be occupied by two people instead of one. As he considered this, Severus decided he would waste no time in visiting Harry. He needed to correct what had happened fourteen years ago and start on the path to reconciliation and forgiveness with his son. Knowing what he knew now, he wanted every moment possible with Harry and even though he knew that most of their history was hatred, Severus knew he would seek to change that for as long as it might take for Harry to trust, and hopefully one day, love him.
Severus grabbed his black cloak as he stepped out of the door, pulling it over his shoulders and apparating to the headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix.
Meanwhile, Harry had just woken up in his room at Grimmauld Place and was reaching over for his glasses sitting on the bedside cabinet. He groaned as he sat up, though was thankful to note that Ron was already up and out of the room. He was looking forward to the return to Hogwarts in three days time where he hoped that he wouldn't feel so under scrutiny as he did here, particularly since the hearing. He tried to stay out of the way as much as possible though was often forced to join the Weasleys and Sirius, and sometimes other Order members in cleaning the house to make it more liveable. He didn't mind doing this - he just wished he could do it on his own.
He ran a hand through his hair, though was surprised to note that it didn't feel as rough and messy as it usually did. Instead, it felt softer, straighter. Harry just shook his head, climbing out of bed and heading to the bathroom across the hall. He washed his face, wiping it with a towel, and then looked in the mirror. He was startled by what he saw.
Harry's bright green eyes stared back at him before they raked over the rest of his face. His usual messy mop of hair was now much tamer, and a slightly darker black. The child-like roundness of his face had almost been completely replaced by a much sharper jawline, and there was a certain distinction in his face that had certainly not been there before. Harry didn't quite know how to process these sudden changes - he certainly hadn't felt them happening.
At the sound of a murmuring from the hall, Harry turned to look at the door. He heard the house elf Kreacher's voice muttering something about Mudbloods and Blood Traitors, but chose to ignore him. Returning his gaze to the mirror, Harry looked at himself more intently. Some of these features reminded him of someone, and he frowned in concentration though he found he couldn't place where he had seen them before. This bothered him for the best part of ten minutes before he heard Mrs Weasley shouting for him.
"Harry, dear, where are you?"
"In the bathroom, Mrs Weasley," Harry called back, before saying, "I'm not feeling very well today. Think I'm just going to try and get a bit more sleep."
"Oh, you poor dear," Molly said, her voice right outside the door now, "Is there anything I can get you?"
"No, thank you. I just don't want to be disturbed unless it's absolutely necessary," Harry said.
"Alright, well, come on down if you feel a bit better later on," she said, and he heard her footsteps fade away.
Harry gave himself one last glance, irritated by the fact that he couldn't think who he looked like, and then hurried back into his bedroom. He crawled under the covers, glad of an excuse to stay in bed and not yet have to face the people downstairs. He was tired of the constant watchfulness they had placed him under, and the pressure he felt at their glances. He knew they wanted him to talk about Cedric but this was something he couldn't face, at least not with them. He could feel the pity in their eyes but he didn't want their pity. He wanted to be left alone, and that was the only thing they wouldn't grant him. He wanted quieter company, and someone who could understand the darkness he felt inside himself right now, someone who might be able to understand.
Harry pressed his face further into the pillow, now anxious about the changes in his appearance on top of everything else. What did they mean? And did he really want to find out?
Harry had just dozed off again when there came a soft knock on the bedroom door. He ignored it and pulled the duvet further over his head in the hope that whoever it was disturbing him would soon go away. He had no such luck. The knock came again and then his godfather's voice came from the other side of the door.
"Harry, how are you feeling? You have a visitor," Sirius said, his voice strangely bitter to Harry's ears and he wondered what had put him in such a foul mood.
Harry just groaned and said, his voice still filled with sleep, "Is it important?"
"He says it is," was the condescending reply, but Harry knew this wasn't aimed at him.
"Who is it?"
"Professor Snape," Sirius bit out.
That explains that then , thought Harry, the presence of Snape is enough to annoy anyone . Harry could feel his own irritation rising at the thought of his dreaded Potions Master on the other side of the door, and he was reluctant to let him in. However, this was Snape and he doubted he had a choice in the matter. There was no way he was going to be able to get out of this encounter and he didn't feel like he had the energy to fight his professor on this. But then there was the problem of his appearance. He couldn't let anyone see the changes his body had so recently and quickly gone through, at least not until he worked out what was happening to him and what to do about it. Thinking quickly, Harry pulled his invisibility cloak from his school trunk which was sitting at the bottom of the bed and then turned to face the wall, legs crossed in front of him. He was fully aware that this was going to look strange and cause suspicion, but the last person he wanted to see him like this was Snape (he'd probably accuse him of being attention seeking again) and it wasn't like he had any other choice.
"Okay, I'll see him," Harry called through the door, "but only him."
He could hear the confusion in Sirius's voice as he said, "You sure, Harry? I can sit in with you both, or wait outside?"
"No, it's okay. I can always yell if he tries to murder me," Harry replied, his drawl sarcastic.
He heard harsh utterings exchanged on the other side of the door, and Harry sighed in frustration as he waited. Then it was over and he heard the door click open and shut before soft footfalls crossed the wooden floorboards.
"Harry?" said Severus softly.
Harry froze, bewildered by this sudden addressing. Never in all his life had Snape called him by his first name, nor had he spoken to him with any kind of civility, let alone gentility. It had always been 'Potter' or some other derogatory term that he thought suitable for him. It had never bothered him and he had never thought much of it - the Dursleys had been much the same - but now, well, this was something the Dursleys had never done. And though he didn't want to admit it to himself, he couldn't push out the intruding thought that told him that he liked this sudden new tone his professor had used for him.
Shaking his head, assuming it was an accident, Harry replied, "I'm here" from under the cloak.
Severus looked over at the place where Harry's voice had come from and then understood where he was, and why he was hiding. He crossed the room to Harry's bed and then hesitantly sat on the edge of it.
Harry felt the bed dip and a sudden, unexpected wave of anger washed over him. What gave Snape, someone who had bullied and belittled him for the last four years at Hogwarts, the right to sit on the bed with him, like someone who cared about him? He almost revealed himself before he remembered why he was hiding in the first place. Instead he gripped the cloak tighter around himself.
He was startled out of this anger when he heard Snape say, with a shake of trepidation in his voice, "Harry, I know about the changes to your appearance."
Said boy was silent for a moment, contemplating the words of his professor. He quickly decided that if Snape did already know, the best way forward would be honesty, especially if they were to try and avoid the inevitable argument they were bound to have, even if Snape was playing nice right now.
"How?"
"Will you take off the cloak?"
Harry hesitated. He wasn't sure he wanted the man to see him as he looked now, even though the man already seemed aware that he was going to look different. This was Snape and he had never really trusted him before, despite Dumbledore's constant insistence of his virtue. But then Snape had never called him Harry before nor had he spoken to him with any sort of respect like he was doing now. There was no mocking, and his voice didn't sound like it was filled with dislike as it usually did. It seemed that his appearance wasn't the only thing that had changed. He considered it for a moment longer and then he was struck with the unforeseen yet overwhelming instinct to trust him.
Hand shaking, Harry gripped the cloak and tugged it off.
Despite the fact that Harry was turned around, Severus could see some of the changes which had affected Harry, most specifically his hair which no longer looked like the bird's nest it had done previously. Instead his once unruly hair had taken on the soft and wavy texture of Lily's and was now a richer black than it had been, courtesy of himself.
Slightly nervous as to what changes Harry's face had experienced, Severus said, "Will you face me, Harry?"
He noticed Harry hesitate but then something seemed to tell the boy to do as he asked and he watched as Harry heaved a breath before swivelling around to face Severus.
For both, the connection was undeniable in an instant.
Severus, who had been expecting some changes, immediately saw himself in the boy who had once looked like James. There was no sign left of him now though. The face he saw before him now seemed more natural, and he could only think that Lily did too good a job of the glamour for them all to have missed that he was wearing one. With the lift of the glamour, Severus saw not only some of his own features, but also more of Lily's: Severus thought Harry was the perfect mixture of the two of them, and was grateful to see that he had not inherited his nose but instead the smaller delicacy of Lily's. In looking at Harry now though, Severus also saw things that hadn't changed about the boy but were now more obvious to him. Like the fact that Harry was a lot smaller than he remembered, and a lot skinnier too. He seemed to sit hunched in on himself, as if trying to make his already petite form even tinier.
Harry, on the other hand, immediately became unsettled and cautious when he turned to face the Potions Master. As his green eyes found Severus's face, he saw not only a much kinder and calmer expression on his face than he was used to seeing at Hogwarts, but also some of the attributes he had noticed in his own face that same morning. The man sat in front of him looked similar to what an older version of himself might appear like and his jaw dropped as he moved slightly further backwards on the bed, wondering why he looked more like Snape than James Potter.
By Harry's reaction, Severus knew that something in Harry's brain had made the connection between his own face and Severus's. He looked away from the boy for a moment, allowing him a moment to process his current thoughts, and played idly with the cuff of his shirt sleeve before looking back at him and saying, "I think we need to talk."
Harry nodded blankly, struggling to find words in this strange situation.
From his cloak, Severus pulled the letter and vials he had received that morning and lay them on the bed in front of Harry who looked to Snape questioningly. He just nodded to the objects, giving Harry permission to examine them. He picked up the letter first and carefully unfolded it. Severus watched as a mixture of emotions flit across Harry's face: mostly outrage, shock, and confusion. Severus knew how he felt.
"What - what does this mean?" Harry managed to say.
Severus inhaled a breath and then said, "It means, Harry, that you are my son."
"And Dumbledore knew?"
Severus nodded.
"And he never thought he should tell us?"
"No."
"You're lying," Harry said suddenly, as if the truth was dawning on him, "This is a fake and you've done something to me, to make me look like this. And you're being nice to me, to get me to trust you. I should have seen this sooner. If this was real, you would have been disgusted by the fact that I was your son."
"I'm not lying, Harry. I promise. This was from your mother, and I only just received it this morning. I would never sink to this level of revenge on anyone, especially not when I know how much you value family. I know I have treated you appallingly in the past, and I have given you no reason to trust me, none at all, but all I ask, Harry, is that you trust me now when I say that you are my son and I am most certainly not disgusted by this fact. I was shocked, yes, and angry at first at those involved. But knowing this now...I just want to build with you the relationship we should have had in the first place."
Harry looked at him, his eyes filled with suspicion and defiance. He wasn't sure whether Snape was lying or not, it wouldn't be the first time his intuition was wrong. He let what Snape said sink in, processing everything he had said: the fact that he seemed to know how much Harry longed for family; that Snape seemed to almost regret the way he had treated Harry before now; the fact that he isn't disgusted by Harry, as the Dursleys were, and wanted a relationship with him, unlike the Dursleys who didn't. He felt something inside him die, and resign itself to the facts being presented to him. He did look like Snape, there was no way he could deny that, and if Snape was truly a Death Eater then surely he would have already found a way to hand him over to Voldemort. And, Harry thought, If Snape really wanted to get revenge, this isn't the way he would do it. He would have been too revolted at the thought they were related to do that.
He was unprepared for the question Snape asked him next: "What about you, Harry? Are you disgusted because I am your father?"
Harry considered this question. Was he repulsed by this recent development? It wasn't exactly as though Snape was treating him horribly just now. In fact, he had been kind and he seemed to Harry to be genuine. He wondered if it was this that was bothering him most about the situation. Snape had never been one to lie to him. Sometimes he appreciated the brutal honesty with which Snape treated him, even if the professor was sometimes misinformed.
"Not disgusted, no," Harry said, thoughtfully, "I mean, I'm not going to lie and say you would have been my first choice if there had been one, but Mum's letter, if it is actually her letter...well, she clearly loved you and I suppose I probably did too when I was a baby, even though I don't remember."
"Your mother loved you as well, never doubt that. And I know I loved you too, when I knew you were mine...I must apologise, Harry, for the way I have previously treated you. I know you're not who I made you out to be. Except for your ability to find trouble, you're nothing like him and deep down I knew this but I just couldn't see past the fact that you were James's son. And I'm sorry - there's no excuse for my behaviour. I was jealous and petty because you weren't mine and Lily's. And it hurt that you looked so much like him."
"I guess you don't need to be jealous or bitter about any of that anymore," Harry said in response, as he was engulfed by a surge of pity for the man.
"I guess not," Severus agreed.
An awkward silence fell between them then, and Severus watched as Harry looked down at his own hands which were entwined together on his lap. Severus could tell he was clearly unsure of where to take this conversation next.
"I'm going to speak to Dumbledore about this," Severus said after an uncomfortable minute.
Harry nodded and said, "I'm really angry we weren't told about this."
"I know. I am too. I'm sorry I didn't know sooner."
"It's not your fault," Harry said, surprising both of them when he jumped to Severus's defence.
There was silence again before Severus said, "I must ask you, Harry, and I'd like you to be honest with me."
Harry looked up, and nodded cautiously when he said, "Okay."
Severus took another breath and said, "Would you like to try and develop a relationship with me?"
Harry's emerald green eyes met Severus's black ones. He could tell that the man before him was trying to remain neutral about the situation but Harry could tell that there was something different in Snape's eyes to what he usually saw there. They conveyed none of their usual hatred for him, but something entirely different - something that Harry thought almost looked like longing. He could almost believe that Snape wanted this, but Harry wasn't sure if he himself did. For the past four years, their relationship had been one of pure hatred and nothing else. How could they come back from this? But then he remembered all the times Severus had done his best to protect him and his friends, however begrudgingly he might have done this at the time. Harry realised he had never thanked him for this before.
"Can I think about it?" Harry asked, nervously, hoping the new kindness the man was bestowing on him wouldn't suddenly go away. He had found he quite liked this side of Snape.
"Of course you may think about it," Severus said. He was just relieved it hadn't been an outright no. "Do you want to see the memories?"
Harry hesitated and then shook his head. "Maybe another time, but I think I just need to process everything else first."
Severus inclined his head and said, "I understand that, Harry. What I do want you to know though, Harry, is that even if you refuse my offer, you may come to me at any time, about anything at all. I know things haven't been easy with us, but I would like for you to be able to trust me, at least. I know things were hard with the hearing and...Diggory's death."
Harry just nodded at this, so Severus decided to drop it and instead continued the conversation by saying, "Sorry. How - how long do you think you'll need?"
"It's okay," Harry said, hurriedly, "I really appreciate that. I'll have an answer for you when I'm back at Hogwarts." He offered the professor a small smile then and was pleasantly surprised to see it faintly returned.
"Thank you. Now, Harry, in the meantime, I think it might be prudent to reapply your glamour," Severus said, though he was reluctant to do this. It was nice seeing Harry look as he was truly supposed to be. As his son.
"Yes, sir."
Harry held still as Severus performed the complicated charms on Harry's face and hair which would return him to the boy Severus had known at Hogwarts. He felt a slight disappointment as he went back to being the spit image of James, but knew that right now it was for the best. Severus reached out to touch Harry, but quickly pulled his hand back. Harry had never seen Snape so unsure of himself and it made for interesting viewing, but Harry couldn't deny that he understood how he felt. He didn't think either of them had felt more awkward in all their lives.
"Okay," Severus said, suddenly, standing up, "I'll see you at Hogwarts."
"Yes, see you at Hogwarts, Professor."
Severus nodded at him and then swept out of the room, his robes billowing out behind him as always.
Harry sat back on his pillows and stretched his legs out before him. He couldn't decide what he was more shocked about - the fact that Snape, the hated Potions Master of Hogwarts, was apparently his father, or that he had managed to have a civil, almost emotional, conversation with the man. He had certainly seemed honest, and there was no way Harry could deny the similarities there had been in their appearances. There was also the fact that he had memories to show him. Harry sighed, trying to process everything that had happened that day. It felt like a nightmare - he wondered if this is what it was. He had been having a lot of strange dreams recently - primarily about a peculiar door at the end of an unknown corridor but when he reached the door was unable to open it. But Harry didn't think heads ached as much as his did right now in dreams - he certainly wasn't in this much physical pain when he revisited the incident in the graveyard from last year.
Harry curled up into himself, into a ball so tiny he almost resembled a baby mouse. He wanted nothing more than to go back to sleep and numb his mind from all the thoughts spiralling through his mind and out of control. He felt like a very confused spider, attempting to build a web to trap its prey - but there were pieces missing, strands unattached, and the prey kept escaping its grasp. He couldn't decide whether he wanted this or not. Everything was changing so quickly. For years he had hoped for another family member to steal him away from the Dursleys, desperate for the love of a parent he saw so often in the Weasleys, the Grangers, and hell, even Malfoy's parents. He had long since given up on this dream. But now, the opportunity for a family was a word away. The one thing he had always wanted was waiting for him. But it was Snape . Was it really a good idea, trying to build a relationship with someone who had hated him since he could remember? And then he recalled how Snape had spoken to him today, remembered how he almost believed that Snape could care for him, and he wondered if this was what was scaring him most.
Harry screamed into the pillow as his head pounded with pain and anger and fear and an overwhelming urge to attack someone or something. He hated himself for feeling all of this, hated what he seemed to be becoming, but he didn't know how to make it stop. And right now that was all he wanted: he wanted to stop feeling anything at all.
From leaving Harry at Grimmauld Place, Severus found a quiet London alley and immediately apparated to Hogsmeade. He had been well aware that Harry would not instantly accept him as his father and the boy deserved a chance to think over everything they had learned that morning, however, while Harry considered Severus's offer, Severus had another affair to resolve. He was still angry at Dumbledore, and it seemed Harry was too, and for good reason. He was the only person alive who had known, before now, the truth about Harry's true parentage and by not telling them he had stolen from both of them many happy years they should have had together. Instead Harry had to be raised by the Dursleys, Lily's disgusting relatives, and had known only hate from him. Instead of protecting and loving him, he had shown only cruelty and loathing, and pushed the boy away when he should have been able to trust him. Now he knew the truth, Severus wanted nothing more than to erase their history and restart, building the relationship they should have had in the first place.
The afternoon sun dwindled pathetically in the cloudy sky, its presence there feeling almost pointless as it flickered weakly in the haze. The streets of Hogsmeade were mostly still, but for the odd passerby and the incessant chatter coming from the Three Broomsticks. Striding towards Hogwarts, Severus sent his doe patronus ahead of him to alert the headmaster that he was on his way to the school and needed to see him at once. He made his way through Hogsmeade as fast as he could, thankful for the lack of people around on this dull day. Finally, he reached the gates leading up to the school, the winged boars seeing him inside the grounds, and he hurried up towards the great oak doors.
On entering the castle, Severus took the quickest route to the seventh floor, passing the familiar portraits lining the walls and the tapestry of Barnabus the Barmy. Some of the portraits felt that they had a right to comment on his urgent manner, wondering why the usually calm and collected Potions Master of Hogwarts was now just the opposite. It took all of Severus's self-control not to use a silencing charm on them.
When he reached the large gargoyle statue which marked the entrance to Dumbledore's office, he gave the password "Fizzing Whizbees" and stepped onto the revolving staircase when the statue moved to admit him. At the top of the staircase, Severus didn't stop to knock and instead just stormed right in; Dumbledore knew he was coming and he didn't think Dumbledore deserved the consideration anyway, not after what he had done.
Dumbledore didn't even look up when the door thudded open and Severus went to stand in front of him. He continued scratching his quill across a piece of parchment, his glasses perched on the end of his nose, his other hand buried in his long beard. This didn't stop Severus from pursuing his purpose though. He wanted answers and right now nothing was more important to him than trying to remedy everything that they had all done wrong.
"Why didn't you tell me that Harry is my son?"
Albus didn't even blink. He just scribbled an ending to his letter and set it aside to dry before turning his attention to Severus. His face wore a stern expression yet Severus noticed the twinkle in his eye which always meant trouble and which sparkled with mischief at the thought of doing what Snape considered to be Dumbledore's favourite hobby: manipulating people.
"I believe you are an intelligent enough man to be able to work that out for yourself, Severus," Albus said, feigning kindness, "Sherbert lemon?"
"Apparently not," Severus said, staring down at the small bowl of yellow sweets Dumbledore was now offering to him, "Nothing gave you the right to keep Harry from me. And no, I don't wish for one of those abhorrent sweets."
Dumbledore tilted his head as if accepting Severus's argument and placed the bowl down before saying, "In all honesty, Severus, your attitude towards him suggested you didn't want the boy."
Severus's nostrils flared, and he slammed his hand down on Dumbledore's desk, "Of course I wanted him - he's my son! Don't play dumb with me, Albus!"
Dumbledore's eyes narrowed slightly when he saw Severus's wedding ring sitting on his finger on the hand still placed upon the desk. He looked back up at Snape and said, "And what of your position as a spy? Don't you think that abandoning your role in this war makes everything we've been working towards pointless? Lily's death unnecessary?"
Severus opened his mouth to speak, but promptly closed it again. No matter how angry he was at how Albus had handled this whole situation, he couldn't argue with this logic. He had made a valid point - if Voldemort found out the truth, his place as a spy would no longer be valid, the whole war effort would be for nothing, as would Lily and Potter's deaths. Harry would be in even more danger, as would he, and he couldn't protect his son if he was buried under the ground. But he couldn't let Harry go now he had just found him again either, not unless that was what Harry wanted.
Albus was watching Severus carefully. It bothered him how observant the man was sometimes - he was brilliant, yes, but this didn't mean Severus had to like it.
"I want to be Harry's father," Severus said, quietly, "If he wants me."
"I know, Severus, I want that too," Albus said.
Snape scoffed. The man might be brilliant, but Severus was skilled at being able to tell when people were lying. Of course Albus didn't want Severus and Harry to form a relationship. That would go against the perfect Golden Boy image that the headmaster was trying to build for him.
"I do," Albus insisted, "But we are at war, Severus, and now Voldemort's back, we are all more vulnerable than ever, Harry most of all. If you truly want to protect him, you need to remain a spy for the Order and continue with what we have all been working to accomplish - the end of Voldemort's reign of terror."
Severus ran a hand over his face. He knew the older man was right, though he wished with his whole being that he wasn't.
There was silence for a moment, and then, "Does Harry know?" Albus continued.
Severus nodded, and said, "I told him this morning. In fact, I came straight over here from speaking to him."
Another silence and then, "Lily had another plan in case the first one fell through?"
"Yes," Snape said, bitterly, his anger returning in full force, "Thankfully. Were you ever planning on telling us?"
"Lily was a very intelligent witch," Albus mused, "It's a shame Harry has had to grow up without her."
A fresh wave of anger shook through Severus at Dumbledore's efforts of sentimentality. Of course he cared that Lily had died, but he didn't care how this impacted Harry - he had him exactly where he wanted him. But he saw an opportunity to try and override Dumbledore and he took it, "And you think he should continue to grow up without a father?"
"No, but what you must understand is I did what I thought was right at the time," Albus explained, "I suppose Harry is wanting to try and develop a relationship with you?"
"And what about now? Now that Harry and I both know the truth?" Severus asked, trying to control himself, and then added, almost timidly, "And I don't know yet. He hasn't decided."
"Well I won't stop you if he decides he wants to," Albus said, "But I must ask you to make your choice wisely. With Voldemort back, another war is inevitable and we'll need as much inside information as we can get in order to defeat him."
"What if I can do both?" Severus asked, "What if I can be Harry's father and a spy?"
"Like I said, I won't stop you," Albus said, leaning back in his chair, "Though if you were to do that, your relationship would need to be known by few people -"
"Harry would probably prefer that at first anyway," Severus interrupted.
"Indeed," said Dumbledore thoughtfully, and then "Tell me about your morning with the boy, Severus."
Severus hesitated. He didn't want to tell Dumbledore about his conversation with Harry. It had been heavy with the weight of their history sitting between them, and it had been emotional, the loss of stolen years hanging over them. On top of that, Harry had the right to privacy, Merlin knew he wasn't going to get it from anyone else, and he thought that Harry might want to keep the talk they had between himself and Severus.
Severus shook his head and said, "I'm sorry, Albus, but that is between Harry and I."
Dumbledore leaned forward and rested his elbows on the desk as he joined his fingertips together.
"Severus -"
"No, Albus, I am not discussing this with you. And after hiding the truth from us for the last fourteen years, I don't really think you deserve to know, do you?" Severus snarled.
Albus didn't have an answer for this, or if he did, he stopped himself from responding.
Their discussion was stifled for a few uncomfortable moments before Albus finally said, "Well, how did the boy seem to you, Severus?"
Severus frowned, and asked, "What do you mean, Headmaster?"
"What was his mood like?"
"How you'd expect it to be when you found out your father is actually alive but your least favourite school teacher," said Severus, acidly.
"Severus," Dumbledore reprimanded, softly exasperated.
Severus rubbed his brow and then said, "I don't know. Despondent, I suppose? And overwhelmed. But, I'm serious, Albus - it's hard to tell how much was coming from these recent developments between us and what might have been something else."
Dumbledore bowed his head, and then said, "Let me know what Harry decides, will you, Severus?"
"Of course, Albus," Severus said reluctantly.
"Is there anything else?"
Severus was rendered near speechless by Albus's careless and nonchalant attitude to the situation though it gave him all the evidence he needed to believe that he was right when he thought Albus had had no plans to tell either him or Harry the truth. It was clear that he had no regrets at the way he had handled everything so far - he had not even offered any sort of apology - and this infuriated Severus; the headmaster's lack of concern for anything but the war and the "greater good" sickened him - Harry was a boy, he wasn't supposed to be a weapon in the war, and he had every right to a family that loved him if that was what he wanted.
Severus stood up, and headed for the door prior to looking back at Albus who was now pulling another piece of parchment towards him.
"Sometimes, Albus, you disgust me," Severus said, and slammed the door shut behind him as he left.
Dumbledore rose to stand by Fawkes when Severus had returned him to his solitude. He absentmindedly ran his hand over the red and orange plumage, Fawkes cooing quietly at the contact. His gaze landed on the window as he stared out at the Hogwarts grounds and thought over his conversation with the Potions Master. He was relying heavily on both the roles of Harry and Severus to ensure that they won this war. He had never intended to take the truth to the grave but this earlier than planned discovery just meant that his own job in this war was going to be far more difficult. He had plans for the war, plans for Severus and Harry; he had secrets which could not yet be revealed, and restricted information which was now going to affect both of them. His best hope right now, if he wanted to keep his plans in place, was that Harry would choose not to view Snape as his father and their relationship would carry on much like it had done before they had discovered the truth. If he was honest with himself though, he should have foreseen Lily's actions. Of course, she would have another plan in place in case something went wrong. As her nature, she had been right, and Dumbledore had overlooked her once again. However, if Harry did choose to accept Severus as his father, then he was almost certainly going to have to rethink some of his current schemes. Now they already knew the truth, he didn't want to employ any unorthodox methods to make them forget it.
Albus recalled the day of Lily and Severus's wedding. He was pleased at their union, glad that they had managed to find some love and comfort in one another, even while there was a war going on. But he had needed Severus as a spy. He was an accomplished occlumens and well experienced in hiding his emotions; he was a Slytherin and had a dark past - there really was no one better for the job, Dumbledore had thought. He hadn't expected Lily to fall pregnant nor the prophecy that led the family to their later decision. He had wanted to wait until after the war, when Severus could be relieved of his spy duties, to tell them the truth, or at least tell Snape the truth anyway. He hadn't wanted them to know beforehand mainly because there was too much risk of both Severus's position as a spy and the role in the war Harry would take up later being compromised. This unexpected development was certainly going to make everything a lot more difficult for him, but he comforted himself in the meantime with the knowledge that Harry had not yet agreed to pursue a relationship with Severus; he doubted Harry would want to anyway, not after Severus's attitude towards him over the past four years.
Relishing in this hope, Dumbledore moved to sit back down behind his desk, and pulled his bowl of sherbet lemons towards him.
When Harry awoke for the third time that morning, his mind was swamped with broken images of his dreams: a flash of green light, Cedric's still body; Snape emerging from the cauldron in the graveyard, rather than Voldemort, his black robes twisting out towards Harry in an attempt to pull him closer as his mother stood to the side watching as Snape declared him as his own son and pulled him into a fatherly embrace (this recollection made Harry smile briefly though he was unaware of it); and then that same wretched mysterious corridor he kept finding himself stuck in. Taking a deep breath, he composed himself before finally going to join everyone downstairs. He walked slowly down the stairs, nervous about seeing everyone, worried that even though Snape had put his glamour back in place everyone would be able to see right through him and see his true appearance. He hesitated outside the kitchen door, wanting nothing more than to turn around and go back upstairs, but he forced himself onwards, knowing that he couldn't hide from them forever. He pushed open the kitchen door to the sight of Ginny watching Ron (whose mouth was full of a bite of sandwich) and Hermione bickering with an amused smirk on her face as they all sat at the table, and Mrs Weasley and Sirius bustling around the kitchen cleaning dishes from lunch. Mrs Weasley was the first to notice Harry standing there, one hand rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly.
"Harry, dear, how are you feeling?" Mrs Weasley said, smiling at him.
"Okay, thanks," Harry said, taking a seat next to Ginny at the table who tilted her head slightly at Ron and Hermione and grinned. Harry grinned back.
"What did Snivellus want?" Sirius asked.
Harry didn't know how he felt when Sirius used Snape's old school nickname. If this morning hadn't occurred, he might have found it funny but now, he didn't like it at all. Snape had been kind to him this morning and if Sirius thought this about Snape, what would he think about Snivellus's son? His grin fell away.
"Er, nothing important," Harry said as Mrs Weasley put a plate of sandwiches in front of him.
"So he bothered you for nothing?" Sirius said, his voice raising slightly.
Harry picked up a sandwich and said, "It's fine, Sirius. It was...important, it just...doesn't matter all that much."
But saying this felt like a betrayal to his feelings and to Snape. Of course it had mattered, it was one of the most important conversations he had had in his life. He wanted to tell Sirius about it, for Sirius to reassure him on how to feel. He wanted Sirius to tell him that it doesn't matter who his father was, that Snape was a good man and would look after him if that was what he wanted. But it was perfectly clear to him that he couldn't do this. There was too much hate between Sirius and Snape and it was pointless mentioning it to Sirius if nothing was going to come of this discovery. He needed proof that it was real first, and then he could worry about everything else.
Sirius opened his mouth to speak, but Harry intercepted him and said, "Just drop it, okay?"
Sirius closed his mouth and turned away from Harry, muttering under his breath. Harry rolled his eyes, and took a bite of his sandwich. He wasn't in the mood to argue with Sirius - it wasn't the first time they had had small disagreements recently, particularly as his return to Hogwarts approached. He recalled what Hermione had said earlier that week about his bad mood, that he hadn't wanted Harry to go back to Hogwarts, wanting Harry to stay with him at Grimmauld Place, and then the following comment of Sirius mistaking him for James. At the time, it hadn't bothered him, but now with the possibility that he wasn't James's son, he felt dirty and tainted. It was like Snape had said, he wasn't actually anything much like James at all. Except for constantly getting into trouble, but he reckoned that was just because the name Harry Potter and trouble came hand in hand. He was deceiving all his friends, and he felt guilty. Shaking his head, he tried to rid himself of these thoughts. He looked up to see Ron and Hermione staring at him.
"What?"
Ron raised his eyebrows and said, "So…"
Harry gave him a questioning look.
"What Ron is trying to ask, Harry, is what did Snape want?" Hermione said.
"I literally just told you all that it doesn't matter," Harry said, his voice trembling slightly in frustration.
"But mate -"
"I'm serious!" Harry said, "And if I want to tell any of you later, I will, but it's really none of your business and not important right now, so can you all just leave it?!"
Harry watched as Ron and Hermione exchanged a look, and then glanced up at Sirius who looked uncomfortably down at the dish he was holding. Harry sighed and put his sandwich down, pushing the plate away from him, and left the kitchen. He heard chairs scraping across the wooden floorboards behind him and then Mrs Weasley say, "No, just stay there! You heard him, give him some time and space."
Harry headed back upstairs, feeling a surge of gratitude towards Mrs Weasley, and into his room where he flopped down onto his bed and stared up at the ceiling, consumed by the amount of questions and thoughts his mind began to bombard at him, all related to the same topic: Snape as his father.
On the last day of the holidays, the Weasleys, Hermione, and Harry all finally received their Hogwarts letters for the coming term. The letters were extremely late this year, something Fred and George claimed was because of the struggle Dumbledore had had finding a new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher. They tore open their envelopes, and pulled out the usual sheets of parchment telling them that term starts on the first of September, and the list dictating all the required books for the coming year. After reading through his list, Harry looked towards Ron and Hermione, wanting to ask them about Defensive Magical Theory by Wilbert Slinkhard, but both were distracted by something shiny sitting in the palms of their hands.
"What's up with you two?" Harry asked.
Hermione looked up at him then, grinning broadly, and said, "We've been made prefects!"
She thrust her hand out to him and he took from her a badge engraved with the gryffindor lion and the letter P , a symbol which showed her rank as a prefect. He swallowed back a lump in his throat, his mouth suddenly dry, and handed the badge back to her. He looked at Ron then who had shown no sign of hearing his question. Fred and George were standing either side of him, looking almost disgusted by the badge sitting in Ron's hand.
"...No one in their right mind would make Ron a prefect. I'm surprised Dumbledore didn't pick you, Harry," George was saying.
"Nah," Fred said, "Harry causes too much trouble - he's got his priorities right."
Mrs Weasley shoved the twins out of the way then and enveloped her youngest son in her arms, squeezing him tightly, and saying, "I'm so proud of you, Ron! This is such wonderful news, just wait until your father hears…"
Harry didn't hear any more. He slunk out of the kitchen, nobody noticing him amidst all of the excitement of Ron and Hermione being made the new Gryffindor prefects. He felt bad about the bitter resentment he was currently feeling at not being made one himself because in truth he hadn't really cared about the position before. If he was honest, he didn't really think much of prefects at all. And then as he walked down the many corridors of his mind, he realised that it wasn't his friends he was angry with at all. They hadn't asked to be prefects. What was bothering him about the situation was that Dumbledore had overlooked him. Again. Dumbledore hadn't trusted him enough to tell him anything about the Order of the Phoenix or the war effort; he had ignored Harry's desperate attempts to speak to him at the hearing, instead treating him as though he was invisible; he had not been bothered enough about Harry to tell him the truth about who his real father was; amd now Dumbledore had once again decided he could not trust Harry, even as a prefect. A hot surge of rage shook through his body. He was tired with the way Dumbledore had been acting with him since the beginning of the summer, resentful about the way Dumbledore insisted on treating him like a child despite everything he had done and been through. Surely he could be a prefect, if he could duel Voldemort in a dark graveyard and watch Cedric…
Cedric had been a prefect . The thought came unbidden into Harry's mind and he longed to push it out. The rage was suddenly gone, and instead an inundating sense of grief and longing came over him. Would Cedric have been disappointed in him at missing out on the chance to become a prefect or would he have laughed and pulled him closer to him, saying only that he caused too much trouble like Fred and George had?
Harry sped up the stairs, swallowing thickly, and then punched his fist into the wall. He cradled his hand to him and continued walking up to the attic where Buckbeak the hippogriff was staying. He hadn't expected to find Sirius up there feeding him.
"Hey, Harry," Sirius said, and then he frowned, "Everything okay?"
Harry went to stand next to him and watched Buckbeak devour a ferret.
"Were you a prefect?"
Sirius barked a laugh and then said, "No. James and I were in detention far too much. Remus and your mum were the Gryffindor prefects our year, the teachers' pets they were. Never managed to control me and James though."
Harry nodded.
Sirius gave him an inquiring look and then said, "I heard Ron got the badge, but listen, Harry, you're not missing out. Being a prefect is not much to be proud of, and if you think not being one diminishes your worth, then you're wrong."
Harry smiled at him then, and then asked, hesitantly, "What about Snape?"
"Why do you care?" Sirius asked sharply.
"Just curious," Harry said, wishing he hadn't asked.
"He wasn't one either," Sirius said shortly.
"Sirius?"
"What?" he answered gruffly.
"I was just wondering if you had any old letters from Mum," Harry said, an idea occurring to him.
Sirius gave him an odd look and then beckoned him out of the attic and took him into his own room. The room was plastered in great red and gold Gryffindor banners and muggle pictures, all, Harry supposed, which Sirius used to declare his differences from his family loudly. There were also moving photographs, most of them of four boys who Harry immediately recognised as younger versions of Sirius, James, Peter, and Remus. He stared for a minute at one of the four arm in arm walking down a street in Hogsmeade, all of them wearing huge grins, and Sirius holding a bag from Honeydukes Sweet Shop. When a rush of guilt overcame him, he quickly turned away and looked at Sirius who was now knelt on the floor rummaging through a small chest. Harry went to kneel next to him and Sirius handed him a bunch of old letters which were yellowing with age. The bundle was held together with frail rope and Harry ran his hand over it, before offering Sirius a small smile.
"Thank you."
Sirius shook his head, and then said, "No bother. Any reason for this?"
"Not really. I just...I don't always hear a lot about Mum and I just want to feel a bit closer to her," Harry said, shrugging.
"Why didn't you just ask questions about her?"
Harry blushed in embarrassment and then just shrugged again.
Sirius stood up then and said, "Put them back when you're done."
Harry nodded and Sirius left him there, kneeling on the musty wooden floorboards of his bedroom. His hands trembling, Harry pulled away the rope and fumbled with the first letter. It was all the evidence he needed. In the same handwriting of the letter that Snape had let him read that morning was a letter beginning Dear Padfoot and describing his first birthday. Snape hadn't been mentioned but he wondered if he had been there celebrating with James and Lily. Harry rummaged through the other letters, all in the same handwriting. Harry leaned back against the foot of Sirius's bed. So it was true: Snape was his father. He found that he took great comfort in knowing that Snape wasn't lying. He even felt pleased. Over the last couple of days, he had been spending a lot of time pondering whether he wanted a relationship with Snape or not and he found in all of his debating, he did, however odd this thought seemed to him. He just knew he wanted a family and Snape had seemed like he really wanted this too. Harry thought about the way Snape had spoken to him that day, and remembered that it had felt nice. He wanted to experience that again. And if it all went wrong, it wasn't exactly like he had anything to lose. It wasn't like their relationship could get any worse. He just hoped that Snape hadn't changed his mind about wanting this too.
Harry stood up, happy with his decision, and brushed the dust from his legs. He had friends to congratulate. And as Harry walked back downstairs to join the celebrations Mrs Weasley was sure to have set up for her son, he realised that it didn't matter that he hadn't got the prefects badge. He had got a father.