Author's note: Please accept my apologies in advance for an extremely tacky chapter! I wasn't able to do it any other way... I promise the tackiness will decrease in the following chapters.

Chapter six

Snape's Memory

After the Feast, Snape went back to the Dungeons on his own, having avoided Lupin during the whole evening. He had also managed to avoid looking at Potter – or maybe he shouldn't go on calling him Potter – but what else could he call him? And now he had left rather early, but he wasn't the first, for that had, in fact, been Potter. Did he know? Had that meddlesome fool Lupin told him? Or could it be that he was worried about the changes in his appearance? For the first time since he'd met him, Snape felt something that wasn't hatred for the boy – he felt something else, more like ... pity.

He went into his bedroom and changed into his grey nightshirt, still annoyed with Lupin for interfering in what certainly wasn't his business. So what, if Potter was his son? That changed nothing. Potter hadn't needed him so far and certainly would not need him now, and besides, Potter hated him just as much as he hated Potter. Surely he wouldn't want him for a father!

Snape thought about the way Potter's face had altered. He was a bit like himself, and that didn't make Snape like him better, but rather the reverse. The one thing that hadn't changed at all were his eyes, Snape thought. Potter still had his mother's eyes... Those beautiful green eyes which Snape had admired so much back then, when they were both still at school. He thought back, remembering the night when it had all happened...

Dumbledore had sent him to Godric's Hollow to fetch the Philosopher's Stone – the Dark Lord had been after it even then, and Dumbledore had kept it hidden in the Potters' house for a short while without Lily and James knowing. Using Polyjuice Potion had been Dumbledore's idea, and it had been a success; the Dark Lord had never suspected anything, nor had anybody else.

Snape thought about that, sometimes, wondering if things would have worked out differently if he hadn't used the Polyjuice Potion, and he always arrived at the same conclusion: they would. He would never have slept with Lily, for one thing, but he strongly suspected that some of the Dark Lord's spies would have got hold of the Philosopher's Stone, if Snape (or anyone else) had gone to the house in Godric's Hollow in a less functional disguise.

While he had been in the house, Lily had come back, in spite of Dumbledore's precautions. Luckily it wasn't James who came, that would have been disastrous indeed! The Philosopher's Stone had been hidden in the bedroom doorknob, and Snape had just managed to get it out and put the doorknob back when he'd heard Lily come in through the front door, sobbing.

It turned out she'd had a row with that big fool of a man James Potter - always so full of himself - but of course Snape didn't know that until later. He had hidden in the bedroom, hoping she wouldn't come upstairs, but when he'd heard her footsteps on the stairs, he'd sat down on the bed, knowing he would have to pretend to her that he was James.

It wouldn't have been so hard, perhaps, if he hadn't been in love with Lily for such a long time before that moment. He had tried to talk to Lily that night, to make up some excuse for leaving the house again, but to no effect. If he hadn't loved her, he'd have been able to be a lot more brusque. Then he could have walked away, pushed her away from him when she stood there, crying on his shoulder. Then he wouldn't have wanted to pull her close, to hold her and comfort her and make sure she'd never feel sad again. Then Harry wouldn't have been his son.

But he was his son; Snape was completely sure of that now. It couldn't be any other way. It was unbearable, the thought of having – that brat – for a son! To think that that one occasion had led to... Snape shuddered. He still found it hard to believe that Harry wasn't James's son – he was so like him in every way, not only in appearance. He was arrogant like him, convinced of his own superiority to everyone and everything, the school rules especially... He was cheeky, talking back to the teachers... Everything James had been, and more.

Or was he? Was he really like James? Wasn't he a bit different? True, he did defy school rules, but had he ever been bullying people like James had used to? Snape thought back to the Occlumency lessons. What he had seen there, of Harry's memories, had not corresponded to the picture he had of the boy. Quite the reverse; it had reminded him of his own childhood to a certain extent. That cousin of his, bullying him... His relatives' behaviour, letting a dog chase him up a tree... That was not the childhood you'd expect The Boy Who Lived to have had. Although he would never have admitted it, Snape had found these memories disturbing even back then. But he hadn't wanted to admit that he might have been wrong about the boy. Now, however, things were different.

Snape suddenly found himself considering what would have happened if he had found out that Harry was his son back then, when Lily and James were killed. Would Dumbledore have asked him to take care of Harry? And would he have said yes? No, Dumbledore probably wouldn't, Snape decided; the reason he had sent the boy to live with his muggle relations in the first place was the lingering protection Lily had given him that night when she died. It would not have worked, had the boy lived with his father – Snape. But had he known back then that Harry was his son, would he have let Dumbledore have his way? Would he have given him up without a fight? Snape had no answer to these questions.

He thought again about the boy. He had been behaving reasonably well the last couple of months, Snape couldn't deny it. If he talked back to Malfoy, that was understandable, after all... Malfoy was a pain, especially when you had to be nice to him like Snape did. And Harry did do a lot better in Potions now that he was left to his own devices a little more... Perhaps he wasn't so bad after all. Perhaps – Snape had to admit it – perhaps Lupin was right; he should talk to the boy some time... get to know a little more about him...