The floor of Dumbledore's office came into focus. A single, downy Phoenix feather drifted on the floor in front of his face. He could hear Snape complaining to Dumbledore about him. He realised he was still holding onto the brush. Or rather - it was holding on to him. He winced as he peeled the brush off his hand.

'Severus, please! Sit down and listen for a moment,' Dumbledore's voice had an urgency to it. Snape sat and glowered. He turned to Harry, who had stood up shakily. 'Happy birthday,' he smiled gently. 'But why the pillowcase, Harry? Surely it can't be that awful?'

'Well sir...' Harry shuffled his feet awkwardly. 'I don't know. I can't bring myself to look.' He could see Snape's eyes slide from him to Dumbledore, then back again. Trying to piece together the latest puzzle.

Dumbledore sighed. 'I have only just received a note from your mother barely two hours ago. Professor Snape and I have traced the powerful magic to its source - and it is indeed authentic. I am still quite surprised by it all. But I quite understand-'

'NO. You don't understand. Not at all!' growled Harry irritably, crossing his arms. Hadn't he damn well heard enough 'I understands' already this summer? 'I think that you should put what she did to me back on, and then leave it. I don't want to know, sir. I'm just not interested!'

Despite the uncaring scowl he was wearing, Snape was very intrigued as Dumbledore had kept Lily's word, and had not allowed him to read the scroll. A conspiracy, then? And nosy, prying Potter didn't want to find out about it?

Dumbledore sighed. 'Come Harry, I sent professor Snape to fetch you for good reason. I have urged him time and time again not to direct all the hate he still has for James Potter at you. But he has stubbornly ignored my pleas. Now this matter has arisen. Please explain to him why he has been wrong.'

Snape hissed. A conspiracy against him!

Harry scowled underneath the pillowcase. 'I can't see why I should bother to explain anything, sir. It's too late - the damage has already been done, if you haven't already noticed,' he said coldly.

'Yes, enough of your riddles Headmaster!' Snape sprang out of his chair, his eyes flashing. 'I demand to know what is going on!'

'Please, sit down, Severus!' exclaimed Dumbledore. The angry Snape twitched as Dumbledore eyes stared piercingly over his half moon glasses at him. 'I insist on there being no more secrets where Harry is concerned. He must face the truth from now on. Now, will you listen?'

Snape hissed yet again, but sat down and crossed his arms. 'Very well!'

Dumbledore cleared his throat. 'Your old school adversary, it appears, did not father this young man.'

Snape frowned. Raised one eyebrow. Lowered it. Raised both eyebrows. Then narrowed his eyes, before smirking oddly.

'Pardon?'

Dumbledore's eyes began to twinkle. 'Potter, is not a Potter, because - ah - Lily Potter pottered off with someone else. If you are more in the mood for puns, and not riddles, that is,' he chuckled.

Harry's gaze moved from an amused Dumbledore, to a confused Snape. Dumbledore was taking this far too lightly. He frowned; this was hardly a laughing matter!

'This is hardly a laughing matter, Dumbledore,' muttered Snape.

'Eeep,' thought Harry. Was that Legilimency?

Harry's head was getting quite hot and bothered under the pillowcase. If Snape really had to know about the letter, he'd rather have it told straight, without all the farting and joking about Dumbledore was so fond of. At his rate it would take the rest of the night!

He cleared his throat nervously.

'The thing is, professor Snape, is - er- that I just found out that my mother charmed me with a physiquous disfigure. Er - I mean - disfigured me with a physiquous charm. So I'd look like James. But only until my sixteenth birthday,' Harry stumbled.

'Who is your father, then!' Snape snapped. This was utterly ridiculous. A dream, perhaps - had he fallen asleep in his laboratory without taking Dreamless Sleep again?

'Well, my mother - wasn't sure exactly-'

Snape huffed. 'She always had a string of admirers,' he sneered. 'Half the boys in school used to follow her about drooling.'

'But she seems certain in her letter that my father was one of the men at a party they held in Godric's Hollow -'

'A truly appalling evening, from what I heard,' Snape cut in coolly. 'Whoever heard of so many drunken wizards in such a quiet Muggle village. The Ministry should have arrested them!'

'-And she sent me photos of all the men who attended that party-'

'Potter!' came the curt voice. 'If you expect me to be enthralled by your-'

'-Including two photos of what she calls a pair of gay gatecrashers.'

Snape's mouth snapped shut like a trap. His fingers curled round the chair arms like talons.

'But - I didn't accompany him!' he exploded. 'He just showed up when I was lurking outside, minding my own business! He then dragged me through their front door. If it hadn't had been for that blasted dog-' Snape trailed off and shuddered.

Harry frowned. Dogs - Snape did seem to be building up a bit of an unfortunate track record with dogs, and not just three headed ones. A possible phobia? Could this explain his hatred of Sirius and Lupin?

Sirius! Snuffles - Harry felt his eyes go misty. 'Dog?' he asked blankly.

'Potter's Dobermann!' spat Snape, his eyes gleaming. 'Bloody female! Probably Mutt-man's bitch.' He leered wickedly at the after thought.

Dumbledore almost choked on a lemon drop. Was it possible then for Animagi to have-?

'Severus!' exclaimed Dumbledore - once he had finished spluttering out chunks of solidified sugar. 'Students present!'

Trust Severus to think of that. Dear, dear. He certainly hoped, then, that Sirius /was/ indeed the last of the Blacks-

'Am I to understand that by 'Mutt-man,' you are referring to my recently departed, last descendant?' called a reedy voice indignantly.

Snape stood up and whirled around. 'Don't you start as well!' he snarled, his eyes glittering contemptuously at the portrait of Phineas Nigellus. 'A little odd, perhaps, for a man in green to suddenly start rushing to the support of his long ejected family member, and expired-Gryffindor, don't you think?'

The Slytherins sneered nastily at one another.

Harry stared at the portrait closely. Now Phineas was angry he looked more like Sirius. Harry winced. It was reminding him too much of the scene in Grimmauld Place last year.

But he mustn't get upset. He'd finish telling his story, first. Anything that might make Snape might lay off him a bit in lessons was worth trying. No matter how slim the chance.

He bit his lip. 'So - that was the reason I didn't want you to see me - uh - Professor. I was worried you would assume I had done magic outside school, or were some impostor that you would have hexed into next week.'

Snape dragged his narrowed eyes from the portrait, and directed them at Harry. 'It never fails to surprise me though, Potter (Damn it - he's not!) that whether your intentions be ill or no, every one is still tainted with your own particular brand of stubborn arrogance.'

Snape's gaze slid back to the glaring portrait. His voice was venomously quiet. 'I rather fancy that the appointed 'cocktail mixer' on that particular evening chose to experiment with more than just alcohol-'

Harry growled. He had had quite enough of these hateful digs at his Godfather. If Snape wanted to think Sirius was his father, let him!