Disclaimer: See Chapter One.

A/N: It becomes increasingly obvious in this chapter that I am hardly adhering to the rules of Severitus' Challenge; but it's really the thought that counts anyway, right? Responses to reviews at the end of the chapter.

Chapter 2 - Harry Who?

After Harry fell asleep, Albus was the first to speak. "Poppy, please let me know when he wakes. Severus, come with me. I think we have some things to talk about." Poppy nodded officiously as Albus swept out of the room, trailed by a strangely reluctant potions master. They walked in silence all the way up to the Headmaster's office, the gargoyle jumping out of the way as soon as it sensed his presence. Once inside, Albus immediately strode to his desk, where he began rummage through the drawers. Without looking up, he said mildly, "Well, do sit down, Severus. Tell me, what do you think of Slytherin's chance for the Quidditch Cup this year?"

Snape stared, mouth working furiously. "Don't you think it might be wise to discuss what just happened, sir?"

Albus, now sifting through a large pile of parchment from the bookshelf next to Fawkes's perch, hummed merrily. "Hmm? What exactly happened that is worrying you?"

Snape lost it. "Damn it, Albus, you know what I'm referring to. That damn locator spell. Why can it find Harry but not Harry Potter?"

Albus straightened, clutching an envelope in his left hand as he turned to stroke Fawkes with his right. "Judging from your expression in the hospital wing, I'd say you don't need me to tell you the answer," he said softly. Fawkes nodded his head and let out a trill as Dumbledore gave him one final pat before facing Severus. "This," he said, holding out the envelope, "is a letter from Harry's mother, to be given to Harry either on his sixteenth birthday or, as Lily phrased it, in the case that Harry has questions regarding his identity."

Snape took a step back, unable to tear his eyes away from the seemingly innocuous beige rectangle. With only the slightest catch in his voice, he snarled, "And what does this have to do with me, Albus? Am I demoted to the post of Gryffindor Golden Boy's personal post owl?"

Dumbledore's eyes twinkled brightly. "Ah, I see, my apologies for thinking your question indicated curiosity. I suppose, since you obviously haven't the time or inclination to put your mind to this matter, you would not be interested to hear that Lily also left a letter for you, to be read three days before Harry receives this one."

Snape grimaced in irritation as Dumbledore gave him an innocent smile and nonchalantly walked over to sit at his desk. Completely ignoring the frozen man in front of him, Albus placidly began looking over his paperwork. Snape reluctantly cleared his throat. He would not beg for a letter from the woman stupid enough to marry an idiot and sire the most obnoxious excuse for a wizard he'd ever encountered. "If you have nothing more to say, I suppose I should take my leave--" he started, when Dumbledore cut him off.

"Your letter is sitting on your office desk. Harry will receive his 72 hours from now, regardless of whether you read yours or not." The old wizard looked up, all traces of levity gone from face and voice. "If you choose to read it--and I suggest you do--keep an open mind, Severus. Remember, appearances are often misleading, and hasty judgments have a nasty way of being wrong." The Headmaster turned his attention back to his work, effectively dismissing the potions master.

Snape scowled at him for a second, without gaining the slightest reaction, before sweeping out of the office. He stalked angrily through the halls, finally throwing open the door to his office to see the expected envelope lying quietly in the center of his desk. He sagged against the doorframe. "Lily, how many times are you going to punish me?" He whispered bleakly, but the empty room gave no answer.

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Snape sat at his desk going over lesson plans. The innocent envelope seemed to flash at him accusingly. Finally, he could not take it anymore. 'Come on Severus, not even you can honestly be frightened of a piece of parchment,' he scoffed to himself before resolutely ripping out the letter. Taking a deep, calming breath, he began to read.

Dearest Severus,

I hope this letter finds you well, although I cannot understand why I care. I hope you are happy and healthy, and that life has dealt you an easier hand than what you have received in the past. Understand that I have, and will always, love you. I realize that I am not what you want in a lover, and the thought hurts me almost more than I can bear. I might have resorted to wallowing in the pain was it not for the knowledge that there is still someone who needs me.

Severus, I am pregnant with a child, your son.

Should we all live through the dark times that face us, I hope one day to have the opportunity to tell you this to your face. You are a decent, intelligent man and I know you do not really believe in the lord you have sworn to serve. I have no doubt that you will live to see the error of your ways; I only hope that I will still be around when you do, and that we may have a chance to be the family you've always longed for; you, me and little Harry.

I have given this letter to Dumbledore in case of my death, a possibility that is rapidly becoming an eventuality. We have pulled the final trick up our sleeves; we should not be found but my increasing sense of unease gnaws at me.

I have so much to say and so little time to say it.

Given your current mindset, I could not entrust this to a time-delayed owl. If I have died, you are probably wondering why the child I claim is yours bears such an astonishing resemblance to James Potter. After you left me, suddenly alone and two months pregnant, he agreed to marry me and provide a means to hide my child. Since then we have been developing a battery of charms in order to hide the paternity of the baby. (A well-placed glamourie removal spell would reveal most of our hard work; I am hoping it will not become commonplace in the future.) All of Harry's features that he inherited from you have been replaced with those of James: knowing how Harry appears under the charms I am certain that, should his true appearance become known, you would be unable to hide your relationship.

Being familiar with these types of spells, you realize that they will fade and need to be reset as the child's powers reach their full potential, which should be around 16 or 17. If I am gone and you still pose a threat to my baby at that time, Albus has the means to restore the child's appearance to what he currently bears. I truly hope that won't be necessary.

I know if you have received this letter you have returned to the side of the Light, and it is my firmest hope that you and my son learn to be the family you both must need so desperately. I want my son to know the love of my life. Give him the care I am not there to give myself. All I ask, Severus, is that if you still retain any prejudices that may make my son appear unappealing to you, immediately forget this letter and don't contact him. He does not deserve to pay for the foolish affairs of his mother.

Foolish or not, I would not change anything, Severus. Our time together was heavenly. I am still greatly hurt by your decision, but I still offer forgiveness, I still retain hope. Hope for you and me, for you and Harry. Please help this dream to become a reality.

Love,

Lily Evans Potter

Severus set down the parchment as gently as he would a piece of glass. His heart was pounding and his breathing fast, as if he'd just ran to the Forbidden Forest and back. The combination of love, guilt, confusion, incredulity, and pain throbbed through his head, and for a moment he was certain he'd be ill. He did not doubt her letter, everything fit together too well for it to be a hoax, but the irony of the situation threatened to overwhelm him. The life, the family he'd long since given up on had suddenly appeared within reach.

In Potter.

Potter, upon whom he had focused all his anger, jealousy, and regret; Potter, who sat in his class every day for the past five years, staring at him with hatred in Lily's eyes.

He sat carefully at his desk, still and silent, trying to stop his mind, to get off this track before he crashed into the devastating truth--

It was his fault. Not Potter's. Everything was his fault. That broken child in the infirmary was like that because of him.

With an animalistic growl, he stood drunkenly, and swept everything from his desk onto the floor. Flasks shattered and papers flew, but it was not enough to overshadow the storm breaking within.

"Why? How?" he hissed, the silken tones of the dreaded potions master replaced by the barely restrained howl of a man in pain.

The stone walls offered no answer. Jerkily, Severus unsteadily stood and stepped away from his desk. He had to go to the hospital wing. He had to see Po... Harry. He had to prevent his mistakes of 16 years ago from causing any more pain.

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Harry blearily opened his eyes. He was not sure how long he had slept, but it had felt like ages. He sat up carefully, testing each body part. 'Madam Pomfrey seems to have worked her magic again,' he thought wryly.

A rustling sound drew his attention to the other side of the room. Professor Snape sat in the shadows, watching him intently. After an awkward pause, Snape cleared his throat and said stiffly, "So, Potter, it appears you have recovered well. Might we be able to expect an explanation for your miraculous appearance anytime soon?"

Harry frowned. "I know you aren't happy to see me, Professor, but it was important that I speak to Dumbledore. I understand the danger, but it was an emergency and there was no way my family would let me send an owl, so I just... left."

It was Severus's turn to frown. "Are you telling me that you snuck out of your house because of some stupid school-boy problem?" He scowled in disgust. "Not a big surprise, I suppose--after all, the great Harry Potter always knows what is best." He sneered. "Are you aware that you had the entire castle looking for you? In your incredible arrogance, did you even stop to think about anyone else?" He took a breath. He was losing his train of thought; he had expected Potter to be screaming by now, but instead of anger and indignation, there was an arrested look on the boy's face as he stared intently at his teacher.

"What happened?" the boy asked softly.

Severus grimaced. He was not the one to be having this conversation. "Don't you think you should answer my questions, Potter, before presuming to demand answers of your own?"

The boy continued to stare, and Severus had to shiver. For a moment, he had seen Lily peering out of those eyes, seen the same expression of disappointment that she had worn every time he saw her after that night. Then the boy opened his mouth and it was just Potter again,

"You were surprised at my reason for coming, implying there is another reason for me to be here that I am not aware of. Everyone was looking for me, yet Dumbledore is not notified for something as trivial as me simply leaving the premises." Pot... Harry looked up at Severus with a dead look in his eyes. "It happened, didn't it," he stated heavily. "I tried so hard to prevent it, I tried to tell them but they wouldn't listen, they locked me up." Harry's voice trailed off as his eyes clouded in pain.

Severus stared at him blankly. "Perhaps now would be a good time to tell why you came after all," he said, the typical harsh tone missing from his deep voice.

Harry shrugged indifferently. "I had a vision about a week ago. Voldemort found a way through the wards at home and he was planning on coming for me. He also wanted Aunt Petunia and Dudley dead so I would be truly alone. He was planning--" Harry ducked his head, unable to meet Snape's eyes.

Severus was confused. The boy can talk about the death of his entire remaining kin without blinking, and now he's cowering? What could possibly be left? "Spit it out, Potter," he barked.

The boy's head snapped up as he stared evenly at Snape. "He knows about you, sir," the boy said defiantly. "He knows you are a traitor and he was planning to put you under Imperius, and have you rape and kill my aunt and cousin while I watched. He was under the impression that this would cause me to hate you, and even more erroneously thought that my hatred would be devastating for you." He smiled sardonically. "He seems to think we are close for some reason, but he was careful not to be too exact when speaking about that."

Snape gaped at the boy, open-mouthed. His mind flew back to Lily's letter. Voldemort knew? How could he? And the way Harry said "this would cause me to hate you As if he didn't hate him now? Could he possibly...? He was shaken out of his musings by the boy's quiet voice. "Sir... they are dead, aren't they," he whispered, staring at his hands. "I felt his anger earlier, he wasn't happy to find me gone, I'd imagine."

"The Dursleys are dead, Harry, and the house is destroyed." Severus felt unimaginably weary. There was still something disturbing about this whole episode... oh, that's right. "Potter, are you telling me you still cannot close your mind to the Dark Lord?" he asked sharply.

Severus looked on in surprise as Harry glared at him, the first emotion he'd displayed since waking. "Professor, I am completely aware of my failings, you needn't mention them again. I know this is a bad thing, but while I cannot prevent it we may as well use any valid information we receive. I do think I have gotten better at discerning the veracity of the visions, if that is worth anything." Harry's face twisted into a sneer, his eyes dark. "But that's just the type of justification you'd expect to hear from a selfish, arrogant boy like me, isn't it, Snape? I'm just like my father, that's all I ever hear, even though, irony of ironies, everyone but you seems to consider it a compliment. It is too bad that everyone is wrong!" Harry's voice was rising rapidly, his face purple from shouting. "I am not my father! I'm not a bully, I know all too well how it feels to be the butt of everyone's jokes. Do you know how often I walked down to the dungeons to apologize to you last year, Professor? Not for looking in your Pensieve, I knew that was a horrid thing to do but it wasn't as bad as knowing that you think I would act like that bully, that I would approve of anyone acting like that. I tried to hate you for stopping my lessons, I tried to blame you for Sirius's death, but the truth is that everything is my fault! Everything," his voice broke, "all the death and the pain I cause my friends just by being me, just by being my freaky self! All the problems I have caused, just by being Harry Potter, James and Lily's son." Gasping for breath, Harry started laughing hysterically. "Well, guess what, Professor, that's just one more thing everyone's wrong about!"

And as Snape watched, shell-shocked, Harry climbed out of bed, strode to Poppy's desk for his wand, and stalked over to stand in front of him. Meeting his eyes in a death glare, Harry pointed the wand at himself and shouted "Revelo!" A golden mist surrounded the boy, gently fading away to leave an image Severus recognized from looking in the mirror every day.

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Severus could not move. He couldn't breathe. Lily's eyes were staring at him, accusing him, challenging him from where they were set in a younger version of his own face. Heaven knows how long he would have stood there with his jaw scraping the floor, were it not for Harry's eyes widening in horror as he slowly backed away. "I-I'm s-s-sorry, sir," he stammered. "I didn't mean to say anything, I'm s-sorry." The boy's protests faded into slight whimpers as he pressed himself against the wall, trying to become as small as possible.

Severus blinked. He could deal with a whiny Potter, a surly Potter, even a defiant Potter, but this sad little heap in the corner was completely out of his realm of expertise. Moving slowly, he crept over to Harry, stopping about six inches away, and crouching down to his level. "Harry, I'm not angry, I just wanted--how long have you known?"

Harry snuck a glance at him and sighed. "Since third year, sir," he answered matter-of-factly. "We were studying appearance charms with Professor Flitwick, and he taught us a detection spell, to find any appearance-altering spells on a person. Fortunately I couldn't do it in class, and I was alone in my dormitory when I finally succeeded in casting it. It took longer to actually manage to return to my 'correct' appearance." He laughed humorlessly. "Thank God Hermione happened by after I'd removed the spell and was able to help me restore it."

"You told Granger?" Severus blurted. "Who else knows?"

Harry looked at him in disgust. "Why on earth would I have thought that, not only did I have some sort of appearance altering charm on me, but that the charm I was removing would change my entire physique? It was fortunate that Hermione was there, unless you like the idea of the horrible Harry Potter, Gryffindor's Golden Boy, wandering through the halls with your face. Maybe if I was ever told the truth about my life I'd be better equipped to live it." The bitterness was tangible in his voice. "And don't worry, Professor," he added condescendingly. "I told no one else, although Madam Pomfrey figured it out. Something about my physical appearance being too static for a teenager."

Harry stared at the floor, defeated. "I'm sorry to have spilled your shameful secret, Snape, but believe me when I say that I expect nothing from you but ridicule and hatred." Another short, bitter laugh. "Although, if my life is any indication, that is all family is good for." No sooner had the words left his mouth than he shuddered, pulling into himself. "The Dursleys," he whispered. "More blood on my hands. I suppose that is something we have in common, isn't it." Harry's voice was emotionless, and he would not meet Snape's eyes.

With a sigh, Snape lowered himself to the ground, leaning against the wall. "If you did indeed have blood on your hands, it would be something we shared," he said carefully. "But a murder committed by Voldemort is not your fault."

There was a long pause. Harry shifted a little, as if steeling himself for something. Finally, he spoke. "Sir? How long have you known?"

Snape snorted. "About 20 minutes."

Harry's head snapped up. "Really? How did you find out?"

Snape stood up, then bent down, offering a hand to Harry. "I received a letter from your mother. Incidentally, I'd guess that Albus knows, too."

A grin flitted across Harry's face. "The surprise would be if he didn't." His face shuttered. "I believe Voldemort saw through my concealment charm at the Ministry last year. It is probably my fault he discovered you."

Snape hauled Harry to his feet. "It is actually quite liberating to know I will never have to go back." He hesitated. "Did you mean what you said earlier? About your father and what you saw in the Pensieve?"

Harry's expression transformed itself into one of determination, and he concentrated for a second. "Break into my mind," he commanded softly.

Raising an eyebrow, Severus pointed his wand at Harry. "Legilimens!" The images came roaring at him: Harry running frantically from a group of boys before suddenly finding himself on the roof of his school; Harry surrounded by the same group, pointing and laughing; Harry, shaking, brandishing his wand at his uncle, snapping, "She deserved what she got! She insulted my mum!" while a rapidly inflating woman floated in the background; Harry curled inside a cupboard, cradling an injured wrist while his aunt shrieked at him through the door. He broke the spell, looking at Harry's bowed head.

"They would have treated me the same, you know, if I had not been me." On the surface, the statement made no sense but Severus understood, all the same. He lifted his head, locking with Snape's black eyes. "No matter what my parentage, I am not my father," he said vehemently. "You cannot blame me for James Potter's mistakes, no one can blame me for your mistakes." Breaking eye contact, he muttered, "No one can be blamed for my mistakes."

Snape studied Harry. "You are considerably less ignorant than I had thought."

Harry's lips twitched. "Thank you, sir, that's very kind--"

Snape stared as Harry fell to his knees, clutching his scar with both hands. Curling into the fetal position, Harry lay silent, trembling. "S-S-Snape," he groaned effortfully. "Listen... Remember... Finnegan... Creevey... tomorrow night... tonight..." Dread tinged Harry's voice as his body shuddered in terror. "No, not him.. God, no... how could he... just a boy... just..." A low, keening moan issued from his mouth as his body twisted and jerked. Blood dripped from his mouth where he'd bit through his tongue in an effort to hold in screams of pain.

Snape knelt next to Harry in terror. He recognized the Cruciatus Curse. Laying a hand on Harry's forehead, Snape snapped urgently, "Harry! Push him out, Harry, force him out of your mind, close it off!" He continued to kneel there, wishing he could fight this for him, until Harry's moans faded and his body relaxed and lay still. Opening his eyes, he made to sit up but Snape pushed him back firmly. "You need to rest."

Harry shook his head frantically, emitting a small burble of blood instead of speech. Snape's eyes widened in realization and he turned Harry onto his side, patting his back as he spat out the blood. As he finished, Harry leaned back against Severus's chest in exhaustion. Snape stiffened and Harry, embarrassed, began to pull away before Severus leaned him back firmly. "Shh, relax, Harry," he whispered, rocking the boy slightly.

Harry pushed him away, harder, although still terribly weak. "Need to tell Dumbledore," he moaned urgently. He began struggling to get to his feet, although his trembling limbs simply refused to support him. After watching a particularly painful attempt where Harry actually gained his footing, only to collapse back to the floor, his head hitting the stone with a resounding crack, Snape lost his patience.

"Idiot boy!" he snapped impatiently, flicking his wand and levitating the teen to bed. "If you will promise to cease your infernal flailing about I will go fetch the Headmaster. If I don't find you in this bed when I return I'm going to bind you to it."

Harry's eyes narrowed and he snorted. "I'd like to see you try," he breathed.

Snape stared incredulously. "I'm going to pretend that was the pain talking, but I warn you... don't tempt me, Potter."

"I'm not a Potter."

"Whoever the hell you are."

"Ah, that is the question, isn't it." The boy sighed and lay still. Snape paused; he seemed to have won that round but he wasn't sure how. Shrugging dismissively, he left to find Dumbledore.

A/N: The letter was hell to write. How do you write something from someone equal parts furious, hurt, betrayed, and hopeful?

Responses to Reviews:

Earendil'sgirl: Thanks! Hope this satisfies!

Lady Lestrange: I'm glad you liked it, I hope you like this one as well! I believe this is a little longer, but this is about as long as I like my chapters to get. It's easier to update 3-4000 words at a time than more. And don't worry, I have no intentions of abandoning this; I have a rough idea of where I want to go, which is usually the hardest part for me, so all should be well!

Shaddow: Sorry for Snape? If you felt that way after last chapter it must be worse now. Anyway, I'm glad you still liked it!

Japanese Cowboy: Here's a nice lengthy Snape monologue, hope it's good!