DISCLAIMER:

This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books,

Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

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"Blimey." Ron breathed. "From the future?" His mind was racing with a thousand questions, but the most prominent one popped out of his mouth. "Who wins the Quidditch final next year? NO! No, don't tell me! How about… Could you help me with my Divination final tomorrow?"

Sam looked at Ron and schooled his expression into one of blankness. "I am from the future. I am not a miracle worker."

"Why should we believe you?" Harry asked, his neck prickling with paranoia. "You could be some Slytherin stoolie?"


"I could be?" Sam agreed and one corner of his thin top lip curled upward and his brown eyes grew black. "I suppose you will have to trust me?"

"How far ahead in the future?" Ron asked.

"Perhaps we should find Dumbledore?" Sam asked, looking down the corridor toward the direction of the Head Master's office.

"How'd you get here?" Ron persisted.


Again Sam ignored Ron's question, turned away and began toward the administration wing. When Harry and Ron stormed after him, he paused, withdrew a small silver and gold device from his uniform's pocket and showed them, "Time turner."


"Oh."


A silence fell as the boys considered each other. Harry was not convinced by Sam's story; he openly glared at the taller boy and at the device he dangled from his long elegant fingers. Ron could feel Harry's loathing. It was clear that Harry did not want to believe Sam was from the future – to do so made Sam powerful and to Potter's brain any power equalled danger… 

It was a good point, Sam conceded, as he wrapped its chain about his fingers and shoved it away into the depths of his pocket. A very good point. Yet his stay here would be more amenable if 'the boy who would kill Voldemort' chose to be on his side. Ron on the hand was a simple matter: he saw the device, he believed. No other thoughts would cross that trusting Weasley mind.

"Oh-kay…" Ron puffed out a sigh. "What did you say your name was again?" Ron asked, trying to break the tension.

"Sam."

"Sam…?" Harry asked drawing out the question waiting for the surname.

"Samson." The teenager shrugged and began to walk away.

Ron gave Harry a humorous look and mouthed 'Samson' behind the young man's back.


Harry ignored Ron and persisted, "Samson…? What?"

"Filch."

Ron's eyes bugged and Harry gave out a short sharp laugh, stopping in his tracks. "You're joking. As in Argus Filch, the caretaker?"

"The Squib?" Ron looked Sam up and down, "Phew!"


Sam swirled about and faced them a dark angry look in his eyes. "Yes, Argus Filch is my father. Perhaps you would like me to make derisive comments about your background Weasley? Or lack thereof?"

Ron felt a spark of ire rise within him, but Harry pushed him aside and said, "Come on! Get real, you don't look anything like Filch!"

"Of course not!" Sam stuck out his chin defensively and straightened his tie in a manner very reminiscent of Percy. "Why should I?" And without saying another word he stalked off.

Harry and Ron paused only a momentarily to give each other mute hand gestures before chasing after him.

"Why isn't Filch your father when you said he's your father?" Ron asked confusingly when he caught up to the young man.

"Isn't it obvious?" Sam said, shaking his head at the Gryffindor's lack of tact. "He's not my biological father. My mother married him three years after we- I was born." He muttered under his breath, "They had a lot in common, both liked cats… other reptiles…"

"I bet." Harry agreed.

"Bloody hell." Ron shook his head in disbelief. "Someone married Filch?"

Sam continued on and entered the atrium that led to Dumbledore's chambers. Harry and Ron behind him, following in stunned silence.

"You know Sam, I think know who your real father is?" Potter said smugly as Sam examined the gargoyle that stood guard at Dumbledore's office's entranceway.

"So do I!" Ron protested.

There was only one man in the world whom Filch would be happy to take the leavings of and only one man who could generate this amount of animosity in Harry Potter.

Obvious really, Ron mused in a mixture of superiority and disgust. Tall, thin, dark hair, pale, and exuding that certain vinegary flavour that soured everything.

Severus Snape was Sam's father.

As distasteful as the thought of Snape reproducing could be, Ron shuddered… Who else could it be? It had to be Snape, no question. He would lay his wand on it!

"Yes, you probably could guess." Sam sighed in defeat and looked about. "Where has the old man moved the bell?" He asked, searching the area for the drawstring.

"Go on Harry." Ron nudged his friend in the ribs. "Tell him."

"Yes Harry." Sam repeated tiredly as he looked behind a drape and found a long yellow velvet rope. "I don't have much time. Tell me."

 "Snape." Harry said the name softly, but empathetically and both he and Ron watched keenly for any sign of reaction.


"Ah," Sam pulled the cord, frowned and shook his head. "No…" He turned and faced the boys and looked sympathetically at them. "Actually Sirius Black is my biological father. Sorry…" The gargoyle parted and the staircase revolved and Sam stepped onto the first step. "Never met Snape, but I heard he was quite the bastard." He began to ascend upward, his voice drifting down. "Which is fortunate as my potions mark is only adequate." And he vanished out of sight.

"Wow, didn't see that one coming." Ron said.

Harry blinked and finally spoke. "Sirius?"

"Yeah," Ron breathed out slowly. "I'm serious Harry. Not a clue."

 Harry frowned at his friend for a full minute, before mumbling under his breath and walking away.

"Harry?" Ron cried out after him. "If Sirius Black is Sam's Dad, does this mean you two are related?"

"Shut up, Ron."

"It does, doesn't it?" Ron grinned and slapped Harry on the shoulder. "This is brilliant! You've got a family Harry!"

Harry stopped and considered Ron. "I've already got a family, Ron. A Muggle family. He's…" He trailed off and cast a glare back toward Dumbledore's office. "There's something not right here Ron. Something about Sam that's all wrong. I can feel it."

"He's from the future that's why." Ron said, his logic impeccable. "He won't fit in here. It's not his time."

Harry stared at Ron and shook his head. Sometimes his best friend could come up with the most startling statements. "You're probably right." He conceded with a small smile. "It's the time shift. It must be."

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tbc