Disclaimer: I don't own anything you recognize.

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"What did Professor Lupin want to talk about?" Harry asked, not looking up from his homework as Severus came in.

"He knew that you've always been my son, and not James's. Your mother made him promise not to say anything to anyone until I got the letter."

"Who else knows?" Harry wondered.

"Only Lily, James, Sirius, and Remus knew," Severus said. "Sirius was your godfather. He...disappeared a couple of years ago. Nobody knows what happened to him. Remus just told me that Lily had asked him to be your second godfather, should something happen to Sirius. She didn't ask him in the first place because of a certain problem he has--"

"He's a werewolf," Harry stated, simply, still not looking up. "No, nobody told me. I figured it out myself." Severus nodded his head.

"Still, that's not a problem right now because you have me. So Remus doesn't have to take care of you, though he's still your godfather."

"Is that all?"

"Yes, it is. Oh, and Albus knew, also. And, outside of classes, Remus wants you to call him by his first name. None of that 'Professor' stuff, he said."

"Why didn't he tell me he was my godfather?" Harry asked, scrawling on the parchment with his quill.

"I think he was just waiting for the right time," Severus explained. "And this was it." He changed the subject. "So how did you figure out his secret?" Harry rolled his eyes.

"I'm not completely dense, you know," he replied. "I read the signs. The things he uses that are normally silver were replaced with gold, because werewolves can't touch silver. He leaves around every full moon, and when he comes back, he's tired and sickly-looking, and he has more hair on his face. Plus, I've seen you making Wolfsbane Potion, and I know that that potion eases the transformation process. See, I'm not stupid. I can figure things out without being told."

"Who ever told you otherwise?" Severus wondered, concerned by the bitter tone in his son's voice. Harry looked up at him with sadness in his eyes.

"You." Severus sighed and sat with Harry on the sofa, touching his shoulder.

"Harry, I've told you how sorry I am for how I used to treat you. I've given you explanations as to why I treated you that way." He was about to say more, but Harry cut him off.

"That doesn't change the fact that it hurt, and the memories of everything you said to me are still in my mind. Yes, that whole situation is over now. Yes, I forgive you for it. But yes, it still hurt. And it doesn't help that you're still giving me horrible marks on my essays without telling me what in the bloody hell I'm doing wrong." He held up a piece of parchment with an eighty out of one hundred written on it.

"Do you have any idea how many straight hours I spent on this, only to get that grade? I spent four hours, practically nonstop, trying to get that essay perfect, and it was all in vain. Couldn't you at least write little notes or something so we know what we're doing wrong and can fix it the next time? We don't know what you're thinking any more than you know what we're thinking, Dad. For two and a half years, I've been trying to figure out why I haven't gotten above a ninety on my essays. I've tried everything I could think of to make them better, but I can't, and it's frustrating!" With that, Harry rested his elbows on his knees and placed his head in his hands, taking deep breaths to calm himself.

"First of all, Harry, you shouldn't be complaining about your grades because they're damn good."

"Not good enough," Harry mumbled.

"Second, I'll try to write notes on the essays and let everyone know what I think they're doing wrong. All right?"

"That's all I ask. How are we supposed to fix something if we don't know what's wrong in the first place?" Severus picked up Harry's essay on Dragon's Blood and read some of it.

"What your problem is, Harry, is that you don't explain yourself clearly when you're writing. I have difficulty following your train of thought, and while I can figure out what you're trying to say, sometimes it takes a while. I suggest that, the next time you write an essay, ask Draco or Hermione to read it, and see if it makes sense to them." Harry sighed and leaned against Severus, resting his head on the older man's shoulder.

"It's difficult, you know... Having your father and your teacher as the same person..."

"Yes, I would imagine it is," Severus agreed. "But son, don't think that I expect a lot from you in class or anything. Don't think that you have to work too hard to make me proud of you. Because all I expect from you is the best you can do, and I'm already proud of you. All right?" Harry nodded, closing his eyes.

"Thanks, Dad, I needed that."

"Anything to help. I love you, Harry, and nothing will change that."

"I love you, too, Daddy..." They suddenly looked up when they heard someone clearing his throat behind them.

"Yes, I love you, too, Draco," Severus sighed, smirking. Draco looked at Harry.

"Oh, bloody hell, I guess I love you, too, Draco," Harry muttered, grinning. Draco smiled.

"I know," he said, nonchalantly. He climbed over the back of the sofa and sprawled himself across Harry's and Severus's laps.

"What are you doing here?" Harry wondered. "I thought you weren't supposed to be let out until supper." Draco shrugged his shoulders.

"I guess I was being a pain in the arse or something," he said, innocently. "Madam Pomfrey wanted to get rid of me."

"I can see why." Draco punched Severus in his arm for that.

"So I've been wondering about that letter you got last night," Draco said, suddenly. "Why did she pick January third to have it delivered? What's so significant about the date." Severus's cheeks began to turn pink, and Draco burst out laughing. "Wow, I've never seen you blush before, Dad, you look so weird!"

"And you think you don't?" Severus asked, an eyebrow raised. "You're nearly as pale as I am, so you're not one to talk, kid."

"You're stalling. What's the significance?" Harry was curious, as well.

"If you absolutely must know, that was the night before I left on the mission for Dumbledore." He sighed at the blank looks on the boys' faces. "It was the night Harry was conceived, all right?" Draco and Harry laughed at him, and Harry counted on his fingers.

"January, February, March, April, May, June, July..." He looked up. "That's less than eight months."

"You were born prematurely," Severus explained.

"Oh."

"Hey, Harry?" Draco said, changing the subject yet again. "Remember earlier when you were talking about helping me with... You know?" Harry nodded, smiling at his brother's inability to be discreet. "Well, Dumbledore said we're having a Valentine's Day Ball next month. Unlike the Yule Ball, which is fourth-year and up, the Valentine's Ball is for everyone. So you should probably get on that soon, all right?"

"Yeah, all right," Harry agreed.

"So who's the girl?" Severus asked, suddenly. He looked at the boys knowingly. Draco glanced at Harry and winked.

"How are you so sure it's a girl, Daddy?" Draco asked, smirking.

"Because although it's so blatantly obvious that you like boys as well, you'd only ask Harry to help you out if it was a girl."

"You're not upset?" Draco said, his eyes wide with shock.

"Why would I be?" Draco looked at his hands and began to fidget with his fingers.

"It's just that, um... Lucius didn't like it when he found out. He, uh... He spent a lot of time demonstrating why it was wrong and disgusting and all that." Severus lifted Draco's chin with his fingers and looked into the boy's eyes.

"Draco. I'm not Lucius."

"I know, Dad, but--"

"No 'buts.' I'm not Lucius." He changed the subject. "So who's the girl?" He repeated. Draco smiled, blushing a little.

"Hermione."

"Harry, do you like anyone in particular?" Harry shook his head.

"The charms will probably be all worn off by the ball, Harry," Draco said. "You'll have plenty of girls wanting to go with you."

"Because of how I look?" Harry shook his head, frowning. "I don't like the idea of that... I think I might ask Ginny. Just as friends." He added the last part after he saw the smirk on Draco's face. "So what, exactly, do you wear to a wizard ball?"

"Dress robes," Severus replied. "We'll probably need to go to Hogsmeade and buy you some."

"Hey, Dad?" Draco said, changing the subject for the third time. "You're tall. You're muscular, kind of. How come Harry's scrawny? His size hasn't changed at all, while the rest of him has."

"Aside from being premature? Kids born prematurely are usually smaller. Still, I didn't start getting bigger until I was maybe fourteen or fifteen. So yes, Draco, you'll be the big brother for quite a while yet."

"All right, well..." Harry stood up and began to gather his textbooks and parchment. "I can see that I'm not going to get this done right now. I'm going to put all my stuff away..." He headed for his room, leaving his brother and father to watch after him.

"Dad, is he all right?"

"He's just really frustrated right now, Draco. He still has all that homework to do, plus everything that's been happening since last night, and his problem with Ron Weasley... Besides all that, he's now got Quidditch practice every night, except for Saturday and Sunday."

"He's going to--"

Draco was cut off by the sound of shattering glass, coming from the boys' bedroom. He and Severus glanced at each other and rushed to the room, stopping in the doorway. They found Harry on the floor, sitting against his bed and staring across the room. The mirror on the wall was completely shattered, and pieces of glass were all over the floor.

"Harry, are you--" Severus started.

"I'm fine," Harry interrupted him, not looking up. "Please, leave me alone."

"Are you sure?"

"I'm fine," Harry repeated. He snapped his fingers, and the mirror was back to normal. "If you hear it again, don't worry about it."

"Couldn't you think of a quieter and less harmful way to let your frustrations out?" Draco wondered. Harry didn't reply. "All right, then." Draco and Severus left the room, and that afternoon, they heard the mirror shatter five more times.