Like Father Like Son
Remus Lupin was sitting at his desk in his room at Grimmauld Place. The summer so far had been quite unbearable, as he kept remembering that he was the last loyal Marauder left alive. James first, then Sirius. The first people who ever really accepted him for being who he was. His best friends.
And there was also, Lily. He had loved her like the sister that he had never had growing up. She was always there for him to talk to, and their closeness sparked several rumors during their Hogwarts days of how they fancied each other. When James had first heard these, he was furious. He had liked Lily, and it wasn't until they had "grown up," as best as Marauders can, that he had accepted her and Severus as a couple.
But Sirius. James and Sirius were always best friends, and it sometimes had made him feel left out, like a third wheel. But he had other friends, mainly Ravenclaws, so it wasn't so bad for him. Not like Peter. Peter had no one else. No wonder that he was drawn to the dark side when given the opportunity. And now, Sirius was gone. Not to Azkaban, not to his dog form, but dead. Not coming back.
Remus was brought out of these thoughts by a knock at his door, and he could hear Ronald Weasley's voice addressing him.
"Um… Professor?" Remus turned his head. It was true, he would be going back to Hogwarts this year to teach. And also, because it was a safe place. The majority of werewolves had decided to join Voldemort, and because he was in the minority that didn't, he was a target for attack.
"Yes, Ron?"
"Harry sent a letter for you, along with mine." Ron passed the piece of paper to the man.
"Thank you." Ron nodded, and turned and left. Then, reaching the door, he turned again.
"Do you think that they're treating him okay?" Remus could hear the concern in the boys voice. It was a question James had asked once, about Sirius returning to his dark, pureblooded family's house.
"I think so. Harry's letters do not suggest any mistreatment, and as long as he is with Lily's family, it will be where he is the safest."
"Okay, Professor." Then he turned, and left for good. Remus lit a candle, and turned his wandering mind to the paper in front of him. It was dated from two days beforehand.
Remus,
Earlier today, I got a letter, delivered by a raven. I didn't recognize the handwriting or bird, but, because of the wards that Dumbledore has placed on this place, I assumed it couldn't be from anyone intending harm. The letter was addressed to "Mr. H. Potter." When I opened the envelope, but there was nothing inside, just this type of gas or fume came out. I felt really dizzy, but as soon as I lay down the sickness passed. I don't look or feel anything different, but I don't know what it could have been. It's my sixteenth birthday, do you think that had to do with it?
Thanks,
Harry
Remus was shocked. Harry was sixteen! Of course, this would be his sixth year at school. Why had he forgotten. He was the only one, save Dumbledore who actually knew the truth about Harry, and he had forgotten. The boy always looked and acted so much like James, it was easy to forget about the whole affair. Now, if Remus guessed right, the charms would be coming off, soon. Most might already be gone, if the letter was two days old. He had to go to Dumbledore.
Grabbing the letter and blowing out the candle, Remus ran downstairs, and into the kitchen, where the only fireplace connected to Floo was set up. It had to be guarded at all times, but the communication it provided was vital. Pinching a bit of powder from the jar above the fireplace, Remus nodded at Molly Weasley, who was keeping watch, and threw it in the fireplace. With a "Headmaster's Office, Hogwarts", he was gone.
Approximately three seconds later, he stood in front of the wizards desk. Shaking the ash and soot off his robes, and cursing Anti-Apparatition wards, he watched Dumbledore.
The man was peering intently at the letter that had been shoved in front of his face.
"Well. It seems as though our Mr. Potter will not be himself for very much longer" Dumbledore said, slowly and surely.
"I had forgotten he was to be sixteen! The envelope he received must have been the time-released trigger to end the charms. What is going to happen to him?" Remus waited as the old man took off his half moon spectacles and rubbed his eyes.
"I think, it is time for me to have a conversation with Severus."
"Yes," Remus snarled. "One that should have taken place years ago. You know I did not agree with hiding everything from him."
"But it was imperative for both his safety and Harry's. Severus needed to go back to spying, or he would have been tortured by Voldemort, and Harry needed to believe that he was the son of James and Lily. It will be a shock for both of them, however." Dumbledore explained all this in a clear tone, as if it were very simple. As if he was discussing a "lovely tea party" he had just recently attended.
Standing up, the Headmaster left his chair and went over to his bookshelf. Amongst the many leather bound and muggle books that populated the library, he pulled out a wearing paperback copy of "The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe." Remus just watched as he flipped it to page 84, and tapped his wand twice on the words "White Witch". Appearing out of the book itself came a golden skeleton key, on a silver ribbon.
Dumbledore replaced the book, took the key, and went over to the portrait of an old gray wizard standing in front of a very small house. Standing up on his toes, and even then barely reaching, the Headmaster fit the key into the lock on the door, and pulled the doorknob. The door on the portrait swung open, and Dumbledore reached inside and pulled out a box. Returning to his desk, he placed the box between himself and Remus.
Passing his wand over the box, muttering a few words and incantations, it was several seconds before anything happened. Then, the box opened, creaking slowly with the rust of misuse and the passage of time. Remus gave a start, as he began recognizing several of the objects and documents inside the box.
"May I?" he asked, gingerly picking up a dusty leather-bound book. Dumbledore nodded his consent, and the werewolf slowly opened it up. Inside were pages and pages of wizarding photographs, all showing the same few people smiling and waving at the camera. There were pictures of Severus and Lily together, hugging and in one instance, kissing passionately. The intensity of the picture, although showing nothing, reminded Remus why wizarding pornography was considered worse than the muggles. The emotions were obvious.
Leafing through the rest of the book, he found pictures of himself, as well as pictures of Harry as a small infant, although they were labeled "Sam". There was even a baby picture, taken what Remus assumed was minutes after his birth. Obviously the charms hadn't been placed on the boy yet, as he had a thinner, more pointed face, and a higher forehead than the picture on the next page.
"Why so much protection for keepsakes such as these?" Remus asked the nostalgically smiling Dumbledore. The whole process of retrieving and opening the box had taken quite some time for something so harmless as a photo album.
"That is not all that is in the box. I included such personal things to prove to Severus that his relationship did previously exist. There is also a birth certificate, records of the charms placed on Harry, even a page that completely proves he is Professor Snape's son. If this were to be found by someone with malicious intent, the results for Harry could be devastating. Better to keep them needlessly heavily guarded." Dumbledore pulled out the birth certificate. "Sameth Augustus Snape. Severus followed in the family tradition of naming the eldest child after its grandfather. That main branch of the family tree has been alternating Severus and Sameth for years. Still, it does sound better than 'Harry Snape', does it not?" There was a twinkle in the Headmaster's eye as he said the last part.
Remus forcefully chuckled. "It sure does." Then, in a more sober tone, he pressed "Are you going to talk to Severus now? And someone will need to talk to Harry. Soon, because in less than three days, the transformation will be complete."
"Very well, Remus. Why don't you and Moody go and get Harry from his Uncle's, and bring him here, to Hogwarts. Meanwhile, I will go have a discussion with Severus. It would be best if I could break through the old memory charm placed upon him, but time may have rendered that impossible. I know you question why I didn't do this years ago, but I do have my reasons, Remus. Please trust me." Dumbledore looked at him, as if reading his thoughts.
"I do, sometimes more than I think I should." Remus replied, making Dumbledore smile a bit at the last part. "I'll be going to Grimmauld Place and collecting Moody, then we'll apparate from London to Little Whinging."
"Meanwhile, I will talk to Severus. He must be prepared for this, and its consequences."
The two parted, Remus to the Order Headquarters, and Dumbledore to the dungeons, carrying a worn old box clutched to his side.
The day before this conversation took place, and the day after his birthday, Harry had began to notice certain changes in himself. His face was more pointed, thinner. He thought it was because he was not getting enough food, that he was losing weight. Which was partly true. But then, as the day progressed, his nose began to change, to twist itself. It became larger, and got a pronounced hook shape to it.
Actually, he looked quite handsome. The nose was not, as some might see it, a flaw, but it gave personality to his face. His dark hair looked better with his pale complexion, and he looked somehow more formal. His hair was now down to his shoulders and he let it hang down in his face.
Staring in the mirror, Harry was shocked. He looked more like Snape than his James Potter! His eyes were still that bright emerald green, and with his extremely pale skin (due to lack of sunlight, according to Harry's reasoning), and long dark hair, he looked very Slytherin. When his hair covered his eyes his appearance changed, turned darker, and more mysterious.
"POTTER!" The annual call at his door startled him out of his thoughts as he examined himself in the mirror. Too bad it wasn't magical, and couldn't offer its opinion. Harry went to the door, and waited as Aunt Petunia undid the locks. When the door finally opened, he was met with a very surprised gasp.
"Who… who are you?" his trembling aunt stuttered, then seemed to regain her composure. "Vernon! Come quickly!"
She backed away from him, as if some unnaturalness from his could jump over to her. Harry heard heavy footsteps coming up the stairs. His Uncle Vernon turned towards his Aunt.
"What happened? Did the boy do anything freakish to you?" Then he looked at Harry. "Who the hell are you?"
"It's me, Harry!" Harry could understand their shock, but couldn't help but feel a little awkward in the situation. "I swear it!" His scar was still on his forehead, they should be able to see it. Would that be enough to prove who he still was. He pulled his hair out of the way to show them.
"You did more… of your magic." The last word was whispered, as if the neighbors were in the next room instead of the next house. It was spat out, with disgust that was still evident even at twenty decibels less than normal.
"No, I swear, I didn't! Honest to God, if I had, they'd be sending me owls!" Harry frantically protested. If his Uncle thought that he'd been performing magic here, then he was in deeper shit than he'd thought.
"Normal people don't change like that. You've used your freakishness." The accusations burned in Harry's ears. His uncle stepped towards him, fist in the air. Despite seeing this, nothing could prepare Harry for the blows that rained upon him. He was tossed back into his room, but Vernon followed him in there.
"Pack your trunk!" He watched as Harry brought out all of his things, and shoved them into the trunk. His wand, his potions kit, his sweets, and the small sack of money that was to last him until his next trip to Gringotts. His uncle looked greedily at the sack.
"What's in there, boy?" he pointed at the bag, which he probably had heard jangling with the coins.
"Wizard money. It can't be used in the Mug- er, normal world." Harry was desperate. That money was all he had until he could make it to Diagon Alley. He couldn't even call the Knight Bus if it was taken from him. He hoped and prayed that Uncle Vernon wouldn't take it from him.
He had no such luck.
"Give it here. I can probably sell it somewhere." Vernon grabbed his arm and twisted it, making Harry drop the sack. It spilled onto the floor, gold and silver sliding everywhere.
"You've had all this money, and never given us any? After all we've done for you, food, clothes, shelter, putting up with all your strangeness for all these years, and you had a whole fortune stashed away! Get out of here. Leave my home!" Vernon towered above him, and Harry couldn't do anything but leave.
If he tried to stay and succeeded, his Uncle would make life a living hell for him for the rest of summer, and possibly might not let him return to Hogwarts. If he left, he was at the mercy of whatever dark creatures were waiting for the wards of the house to be broken. Figuring he'd take his chance with what lurked out on Privet Drive over Uncle Vernon, Harry lugged his trunk down the stairs, through the door, and out onto the sidewalk.
He was stranded alone, in the Muggle world, carrying a trunk filled with spell books, robes, and a broom. The situation seemed vaguely and strangely familiar. Oh, right. The summer before third year. Only now he had no money to pay for the bus, no way to save himself. Then a thought occurred to his mind. Arabella! She was a member of the Order, she could take him to London. Or, he could always Floo somewhere, The Leaky Cauldron, perhaps.
It was a start, anyways. So he began off down the street, under the burning street lamps.
He was so unused to walking farther than across his room that he was almost out of breath by the time he reached Mrs. Figg's house. He left his trunk out on the front walk and went up to the porch. The house was dark, but she'd probably gone to bed. Harry knocked on the door. He rang the bell. Nothing. No one was there. He tried to open the door. It was obviously locked, although he could hear several cats meowing on the inside.
He tried to pry the door open. Then, figuring he had one last shot, he tried to break the lock. After about five minutes attempts, he could feel it give way beneath his fingertips. "Finally!" he thought. Then, when his hard-earned success seemed inevitable, he pushed hard on the door. Where it should have given way there was naught but a strong wooden door.
Harry looked down to check the lock again. There was a different one there! Of course. The house was certain to be protected, probably by either the Ministry or the Order. Even though Mrs. Figg was a Squib, she had wizards and witches on her side. Harry felt like such a fool for even trying.
"Well, I can always take a bit of a nap on the porch here." Harry thought, his lids beginning to droop. "Besides, I'm practically unrecognizable now. Even if someone does see me, they won't see Harry Potter, so I'd be okay." Thinking through his options again, his mind feeling very sludgy and uncoordinated, he chose to curl up in the corner of the porch and sleep the night out. Maybe the next day Mrs. Figg would return, or would come to the door, and he could ask for her help then.
Harry went back to the yard, and retrieved his trunk. He pulled it into the corner, and opened it up. Taking out his second to last bottle of potion, he felt his hand slip against something very soft and smooth, feeling like cloth made out of water. Of course! The invisibility cloak! He could sleep under that for even more protection.
He pulled it tightly around him, curled up into a ball, then drank the vial. His slumber was interrupted, and when he woke up in the morning, the sun was shining brightly, and the warm summer air felt nice against his head.
He stood up, still under the cloak. Although his trunk was still visible, he figured it'd be okay, as it resembled a box on the porch from a distance. He tried the door again. No luck. What should he do?
"I'll just wait here. She's got to return home, soon enough." And he waited for hours, occupying his mind by watching the comings and going of the neighbors, the cars driving past, the birds in the sky. There were no owls, though he was looking for them.
So there he sat, waiting. At the very same time, Remus and Moody had just apparated in front of Number 4 Privet Drive.
"I hope you're okay, Harry." Remus thought, then knocked on the door. It was answered a short moment later by Petunia Dursley. She looked up at them fearfully, seeming to recognize Remus somehow. They were dressed in Muggle clothes, though, so they shouldn't appear to be wizards to those who didn't know them.
"Yes?" she said sharply, after a milliseconds pause.
"Excuse us, Mrs. Dursley. We are here to collect a Mr. Potter, whom is currently living here." Moody grumbled, his normal eye focused on her, his magical one peering into the background of the house.
"He's not here." She replied. "He left last night."
"What!?!?" Remus exclaimed. "Where'd he go? Why did he leave? What did you do to him?"
The assault of questions caused the scrawny woman to shudder, and turn her head. Then, seeming to regain some confidence, she turned back towards the two men.
"He looked odd. Not himself, and his hair! Ugh! It just wasn't natural, and Vernon could tell it was his abnormality acting up again. So, he was worried about what that boy could do to our son, Duddy, and told the boy to leave. He packed his things, left us some money for all the trouble he'd caused, and left. Good riddance, I'd say." She finished with a sniff of her nose.
Moody and Remus looked at each other. Remus looked for confirmation of the woman's story. Moody nodded. "She's right about some things, the important ones, anyway. Harry's not here. They don't know where he went."
Remus nodded. Then, the wizards turned and walked back to the street, leaving a confused Petunia Dursley behind them. She turned back into the house, then peered out the blinds at them until they were out of sight.
"Well, this certainly makes things more difficult." Moody said. "Damn muggles kicking him out of the house. Now's he's out here without the protective wards.:
"We could use a tracking spell. But that wouldn't work, not since we don't know his new identity." By the time Remus made this suggestion, the two were walking on the very block where Harry sat watching and staring off into the distance.
The two remained in silence for a little bit, until Moody stopped. "Potter's got an invisibility cloak, right?"
"Yes, it used to be James's." Remus lost a minute in thought of all the capers that were pulled with the help and largely due to that cloak. "Why?"
"Because he's right there!" Moody started walking toward the house on the corner. "Of course, this is Arabella Figg's house. No wonder he came here. But she's on a mission for Dumbledore. Won't be home for another two weeks."
Harry had noticed the two by this time. He stood up, and removed the cloak. "Moody? Remus?" he asked, questioning.
"Harry. Glad to see you." Remus responded, although inside he was stunned speechless by Harry's new appearance. He honestly did look like Snape's son.
The doubtful look that crossed over Moody's face was not lost on either of them. Harry's expression of happy surprise left him for a minute, and was replaced by a questioning look.
"But, you did recognize me, right?" Uncertainty had crept into his voice, and Remus felt his heart go out towards the boy. Not only was he alone, with a completely different appearance than what he was used to, and had no explanation why, but he also was going to have the shock of his life laid down on him in only a few short hours.
"We'll talk about this later, Harry. These Muggle streets are still not safe for you. Or anyone, really. We'll Floo you to the Order Headquarters, and from there, to Hogwarts. Dumbledore will speak to you, then."
Remus just hoped Dumbledore was telling Severus. The news could be very bad.
Meanwhile, in the Potions Masters private office/workroom, that was just what Dumbledore was doing.
"Severus, can we have a talk?"
The dark haired man looked up from a book of lessons that he was in the middle of planning.
"Of course, Headmaster. What can I do for you?" His voice silkily went over the words, probably expecting to hear a request for information, or a specific type of potion that needed to be brewed.
"Now, Severus, do you remember when I first brought you to teach here?" The man's expression changed. An explosion rang in is eyes, reliving the past. All there was from his initiation as a Death Eater to the day Dumbledore saved him was a memory of pain. He didn't want to hear what had happened.
"Yes, I remember. You took me first to the Infirmary, then told me I had just been placed under the Cruciatus, and told me of my life that I forgot."
"If you are willing, Severus," Dumbledore paused. Snape noticed and damned dramatic effect in his mind. He was still distraught from the sudden surge of loss. His loss of his memory. "I would like to attempt to remove the memory spell from you."
"But its years old! You know that the spells become harder to remove as time wears on them. This one is particularly strong, too."
"I know. But I have something to tell you that might become easier to bear if you could add to it with your own memories."
"What! What about me?" The thought that the man whom Severus trusted more than anything could have kept a secret from him for fifteen years was horrible. The thought that this secret could change everything was unbearable. But, not knowing would be worse.
"Fine," came the reply, after a break in which he'd thought, and Albus had sat there, twiddling his thumbs.
"Okay. Now, I would like you to think as hard as possible about the time period during which you have no recollection." Severus closed his eyes, and could feel the Headmaster's hand upon the top of his head. A magical energy flowed into him, and he could hear the other man casting a spell. "inversio.. cambieament memoria!"
Severus felt a rush of the magical energy flow throughout him, first in his head, then entering the bloodstream. It gave him an energy but the very next moment, all was black.
Over the next five seconds, he relived the two years that had been gone from his life for so long. He was there, sort of like in a Pensieve, watching himself go through all these emotions, and feelings. The time went by so quick, yet everything was so clear in his mind. After the memories had been relived, Severus took a moment to process all the information, before standing up. Albus was sitting across from him, watching him.
"You hid that from me! They looked as if they were the best times of my life! And, my son. Albus, I have a son! Sameth!", then, as he remembered who the son was, "Holy shit!"
Albus stood, still watching him, but instead of the twinkle usually found in his face, there was a tear this time. A hint of sadness that could not be removed.
"I'm sorry for hiding this from you. Yes, Harry Potter is your son. I told you what I did that night because I had to. If Voldemort found out that your son was the one who gave him his defeat, then he would most certainly kill you. This was the only way I knew of which to preserve your own life."
"I've been denied my son, for over fifteen years. Not only that, but when I did finally meet him, I was horrible to him! It's not right, Albus. He hates me, and I have no way to explain myself or my actions to him."
"Severus, If you do need anything.."
"No, not right now. I understand that you did what you did because you thought that it was right, but I am still mad at you for hiding this from me. I need to think." He rubbed his eyes, their blackness shining.
"Very well." Then, Dumbledore set the box on the table. " If you should care to look, I've included some things of yours and Lily's, as well as certain documents. And, before I go, you should know this. Harry is on his way to Hogwarts. He turned sixteen a few days ago, and his appearance is most definitely changed. I've brought him to Hogwarts, so he can meet with you."
Severus nodded dumbly. He now had only a limited time before Harry would be here. He waited for Albus to leave, and then used his wand to blow out all the candles he had to light the room. And in the darkness and the stillness, he wept. For Lily, for James, for his son.
Then, he rested, and finally, began to look through the box. Each picture brought a smile and a tear from him. There was one that just made his heart break upon. It was a picture of him, and Lily, sitting together. His customary black robes were on, and she was wearing a beautiful green set. They matched her eyes. But that wasn't what made him cry. Sitting there, with them, was a young Harry. He looked like James, although he was still too young for it to be very pronounced. He was smiling up at Severus, and the man was tousling his hair. The newfound memory trip was incredible.
The only other picture that affected him so much was the young pictured of Sameth, before he became Harry. The little smile, the nose. Snape felt sorry for passing that feature on, but it didn't look so bad on that young child.
Albus said that the boy would be returning here, to Hogwarts. What would he look like. If the boy was already sixteen, the charms would have worn off. He would truly look like himself.
But he couldn't trust his own emotions. He had to remain calm. His ability to do so was what had saved his life, many times before. There was nothing he could do but wait. And waiting meant thinking. Would the boy want him for a father? He desperately wanted to be there for Harry, but the past 5 years would be hard to erase.
His memory went back to all the things he had said, how nasty he had been. And the thing was, at the time, he had enjoyed being the cruel, sadistic teacher. That was the worst to admit.
What would his son think of him now? Of course Severus knew about the prophecy. What would Harry think of him when he realized that his own father served the man he was to destroy. Voldemort could never know of this.
He could see why Dumbledore had kept it a secret, but that didn't make him any less angry at the man. For years, he had been lied to about the only family he had left alive. Harry, too.
This would take a lot of time to fix.
Well, here's another chapter. Um.. Thanks to the following, who reviewed.
Kneh13
HermioneGreen
The Vampire Story Hunter
Misao_werewolf
Note- The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe is a part of the Chronicles of Narnia by C.S. Lewis. Also, the reference to the painting in Dumbledore's office is from the Lord of the Rings, by J.R.R. Tolkien.
Read, and review. Let me know what you think. I enjoy writing these stories, but the feedback from my reviewers help me know how, what, or why things should be changed. Also, if you have any stories of your own that you'd like me to review, I'm always up for a good read.
Questions or comments can be left in a review, or, for the shy people out there who just don't like to review, you can reach me at Leuca_2007@hotmail.com. Thanks!
~Leuca
