A/N: Yes, I am mean, face it. I don't do cliffhangers often - I tend to hate them as much as everyone else - but that situation just demanded it. I'm afraid I'm still feeling a little irritated at the moment, so this chapter isn't much more cheerful. Still, I do hop you enjoy it.

As always, thank you everyone for your reviews - I was delighted at the number of people who wanted the next chapter . So, if you have anything at all to say about this one, even if it is to AK me, review!

Albus Dumbledore knew something was wrong at eight o'clock the following morning when Severus Snape, Potions Master, Head of Slytherin House, stormed into the Great Hall for breakfast with a glare that any self-respecting basilisk would envy and a face like an angry thunderbolt. As students backed away, he contemplated for a moment the more delicate constitution that this generation had - James' bunch wouldn't have thought twice about their teacher acting like this, certainly not by their NEWT years. Of course at that point they were certainly more worried about having a Dark Lord out for their blood than their school teacher being in a bad mood.

The question was, what had happened? James was the only thing he could think of that would cause such an extreme reaction, the idea being confirmed when he didn't show up himself, but what exactly was wrong? He watched poor Minerva innocently greet Severus amiably and be faced with the legendary 'death glare'. She turned away, put her chin in the air and pointedly ignored him as she talked to Pomona. Sinistra, on his other side, made a prudent choice not to venture a comment. Albus decided it might be a good idea to leave him alone until he had a better idea of the matter in hand.

After a rather tense breakfast, Albus retired to the safety of his office and sent a house elf down to check on James for him. It was back in minutes.

"Headmaster sir, the Professor has magicked his bedroom so Bubby couldn't get in but Bubby found a note for Headmaster Dumbledore sir."

"Thank you," Albus said, absently taking the note. It was blunt and to the point, infuriatingly so.

Albus,

I can't teach today, possibly for a while. My apologies. He found out.

James

Albus looked at it and sighed. The poor boy always had gone for extreme emotions whenever something happened. So Severus had discovered the child's identity, presumably by accident, and had reacted badly. Both of his boys were now so tied up in each other it was hard to think about this subjectively, being fair to both of them.

What would have happened? It was morning - they were fine certainly the previous night when he had called by their quarters for a drink. So, if he ventured a guess that it had just happened. Perhaps Severus had caught James in the shower and got a clear view of his forehead, perhaps James had merely been careless and forgotten to reapply his make up. Whatever happened, it would certainly have been the scar to give him away - he was too careful to make another mistake.

An hour's contemplation brought him to the conclusion that Severus would have to be forced to listen to reason and James would have to be gently brought back to an even keel again before he did something drastic like disappearing again. He had lost too much of his life already without losing him for a second time yet he wasn't close enough to him any more to really feel easy as mentor and comforter.

Albus tossed a handful of Floo powder into his fireplace and awkwardly knelt down to put his head into the green flames.

"Head of Merlin House's Quarters, Griffin University!" he shouted. It was strange how your habits stayed with you. After years of being told to 'say it clearly' and 'shout if you need to, dear' he still used a loud voice.

There was a peculiar sucking feeling and Albus found himself looking out into his brother's study.

"Abe!" he called imperiously. Of course his brother would come to him, he never called without reason.

Sure enough, a moment later, Abe himself rushed into the room, Claudius trailing along behind.

"Albus!" he said, sounding pleased. "What can I do for you?"

"Get over here immediately. We have big problems with The Project."

"Move your big head from the fire then."

"And leave the damn goat behind," Albus said as a parting shot before he moved back away from the fire.

"What exactly is the problem?" Abe asked, brushing down his robes and taking a seat in Albus' favourite chair.

"Severus found out."

"Found out what?"

"Who James is . . . was."

"Oh dear."

"My sentiment exactly."

"What happened?"

"I'm not sure exactly but it happened between ten last night and breakfast this morning. Severus turned up looking like he did ten years ago but in an even worse mood and James has locked himself in his bedroom and I know for a fact that Severus helped him ward them against my painting a couple of weeks ago so I can't check on him."

"Doesn't he have classes this morning?"

"I was given a note saying that he was unable to teach today, perhaps for a while. Here, read it yourself."

"This really is serious, he's normally so conscientious, poor child. What do you want me to do?"

"First, we're going to hack through the wards on his chamber so I can keep an eye on him. You will then go down and see what you can do to cheer him up a bit and I'll call Severus up here for a serious talk and let him see exactly what an impact he's had. I don't want them in the same room as each other at any point in the immediate future - they're powerful enough for there to be some serious accidental magic, particularly on James' part."

Abe seemed to be thinking it over.

"For one of your ideas, it seems adequate. I'm not sure which of them will be hurting most right now but Severus is one of the most hard-headed men I know and James isn't much better. What's more, he has a guilt complex. If we leave him for long enough, he'll manage to convince himself that it's his fault Lucius Malfoy ever came to power and that's when we have real problems. Are you sure we can't send a house elf in to bypass the charms?"

"What do you expect?" Albus snapped. "I've already tried that. You taught him to ward things, so of course he's been thorough. At Hogwarts it's an obvious thing to do."

"Sorry, that was a little over-hopeful. Let's get started."

It took them two hours to break a chink in the impressively solid walls. Albus, tired and with aching arms, made his way down to the Potions classroom, accompanied by Abe, who headed off towards James' rooms.

The class in progress was seventh years, one that required little supervision with a number of brewers competent to keep a check on the others while the teacher was absent. For that, Albus gave thanks to whatever power was guiding him - certainly everything else was going badly enough.

He knocked on the door to warn of his and pushed it open. It was never a good idea to interrupt the brewing process by walking in, his yellow robes in particular might startle a busy brewer long enough to cause an explosion. Slowly, he made his way down the aisle to the desk where Severus was seated, scrawling spiky notes onto what appeared to be student essays.

Severus looked up as he approached and when Albus gestured towards the door, he scowled and stood up.

"Until my return, Miss Fancourt will be responsible for general order. Continue as you have been until the end of the lesson," he said, voice icy as he moved towards the door. "If I have not returned by the end of the lesson, put a notice on the door telling all subsequent classes to go to the library."

As soon as they were out of the room, he shut the door firmly and turned to the headmaster.

"What in Merlin's name do you want, Albus?" he demanded harshly.

"If you insist on being difficult, I must ask you to come with me to my office where we can talk in a more civilised manner without being overheard by any curious students."

"Fine," he said and strode off in the direction of the staircase, not even glancing at the corridor leading to his - and James' - quarters. Albus hurried to keep up: the man really did have long legs, no wonder his robes billowed so magnificently if this was the pace he kept to.

As soon as they were safely in the small turret, Severus stood scowling furiously in front of the desk as Albus puffed in and took his seat behind the desk. He looked up, hiding amusement.

"Do sit down, you look like a stubborn student here to be reprimanded."

Grudgingly, Severus perched stiffly on the edge of a chair.

"Lemon drop? Tea? Not this time, maybe. Now, I know you don't like me meddling in your private affairs but this is affecting the school and as such it is my responsibility to talk to you. What happened last night that has upset you so much? If I don't know, there is no way I can help you in any way."

Severus glared at him in silence, not a sound passing his thin lips as he pressed them together.

Albus sighed, it was going to be like this then. He stood up and came around the desk to take a seat next to Severus, facing a blank canvas on the wall.

"You do know that Professor Evans hasn't left his rooms today, don't you? My first thought was that you had had some kind of misunderstanding so I have broken through the ward he erected around his bedroom. And yes, I am quite aware of what his reaction to that would be. All I ask is that you observe."

He drew his wand and pointed it at the canvas.

"James' quarters," he pronounced clearly and the image immediately formed. Albus' heart went out to the young man again as he caught sight of the scene playing out.

James was in bed, wearing the boxers he must have slept in. His hair, usually neat and tied back was loose, tangled and sticking out in all directions as he curled on his bed, knees pulled tightly to his chest and head buried in his arms. He was rocking slightly, as if so upset, so devastated that even the release of tears wouldn't come.

Albus glanced sideways at Severus. His face was angled as if he was looking out of the window without a care for whatever was happening in the dungeons but every few seconds his eyes were flickering towards the image with hidden interest.

As they watched, Abe came in, wand still drawn from taking down the wards fully so that he could enter. He sighed, eyes closed for a minute as if silently praying for help, and came slowly and painfully across to the bed. James' head rose for a moment, a swollen red eye flicking open so quickly that it was as if he'd imagined it before vanishing again.

Abe sat down next to him on the bed and waited for a few seconds. When it became clear that his protégé wasn't going to move, he extended an arm and pulled James into his chest in a one armed hug.

There seemed to be no immediate change but slowly, gradually, James' arms relaxed from their white-knuckled grip around his legs and shifted slowly towards Abe until he was clinging to his robe, head buried in his side, body shaking with silent sobs now coming. The fear of rejection was clear in the exaggerated caution.

One glance at Severus told him that this had had an effect and, not wanting to intrude on such a private moment any more, Albus cancelled the charm and turned back to his other friend. He didn't say anything, leaving Severus alone with his thoughts until he was comfortable enough to look back at him to defend himself, confess or make his accusations.

"Is there anything you want to say, Severus?" Albus asked gently at last.

There was a moment's silence.

"You knew, I suppose," Severus said. He sounded defeated and Albus winced inwardly.

"Since the warding ritual," he confessed. "As far as I know, only Hermione, Abe, Remus and myself know, not even Draco does."

" Standard prejudice against Slytherins."

"No," Albus said calmly, knowing that wasn't true. "The man is as much Slytherin as he is Gryffindor and proud of it. He merely fears to be thrown back into a world that he wants no part of so keeps his identity to himself. He is quite happy being thought dead, happier than he ever was as a child."

"If he's so hating of the wizarding world, why is he here?" Severus asked harshly.

"I didn't mean magic - he wouldn't want to lose that for anything. No, I meant the life of a hero: the media following him everywhere, the political expectations, the attention, the lack of privacy . . . He's spent his whole life trying to escape it. Are you angry because he didn't tell you, because you didn't realise or because he's Harry Potter?"

Severus shot out of his feet and towered over him.

"Why do you think, Albus! He's bloody James Potter's son and he's probably just doing this for fun! Why should I demean myself for that?"

"And Abe's been saying you were more sensible than that," he said, disappointed. Obviously this case required a very different tactic from the one he had been employing. Perhaps Severus was still carrying around most of his misapprehensions. His face hardened and he snapped, "Sit down Severus!"

There was a long pause.

"Now!"

Severus reluctantly sat down.

"Good. Now, take a lemon drop."

"Drugged, of course."

"Calming potion. I think you need it right now."

Severus obediently ate a single lemon drop.

"Now what?"

"I heard you insult and belittle that child throughout his school years and perhaps some of it he did deserve. He was indeed a little troublesome at times; so, might I point out, were you. What is more Severus, is that he is an adult, not an eleven year old. He knew perfectly well, or at least suspected, that you would react like this and dreaded it, risking it because he believed it would be worth it. You are going to tell me every reason you dislike him and I will take every single one of your reasons and tear them to shreds. You may begin."

Severus stared at him. The Headmaster hadn't treated him like this for years. Eventually, he grudgingly began to speak.

"He has no respect for his elders."

"Strange, I have always found him most polite, quite unlike you as I recall. There was that one incident when I was called things I hesitate to repeat. Perhaps the only reason he didn't worship the ground you walked on as a student was that you never gave him a reason to. You started that battle in his first lesson and I cannot hold him responsible for the entirety of it."

"Very well. He is a rich, spoilt brat."

Albus lost it. That was an accusation that was so far from the truth it was ludicrous. He was very, very close to losing control and he honestly didn't care if Severus knew it and was scared. At the moment, he couldn't help but feel that he deserved it, hurting or not.

"Rich, I cannot deny but he didn't learn of the extent of his money until his sixteenth birthday, only a couple of his months before his disappearance. As to spoilt, with that I disagree entirely and I am ashamed that you should even suggest it. That is something I count as one of the worst decisions of my life. Think back to Mr Weasleys description of his relatives and multiply it by ten if you want an accurate assessment. Young Draco was spoilt, yet I don't see you bullying him for it, quite the contrary in fact. So far, dear boy, you only seem to me hypocritical and short sighted and I have no sympathy for you whatsoever. Right now I have a man downstairs who is so emotionally fragile that a rejection like this could easily have turned him to suicide had my brother not arrived. He is so insecure that he tells no one his feelings and what is more he has know understanding of them whatsoever. Draco tells me that he came to him a while back to ask him what it felt to be in love. What sort of man asks that? The most he has seen is Mr and Mrs Weasley for a short period aged twelve - hardly a good basis for deep understanding. Why the hell can't you get it into your head that he loves you completely for yourself, sarcastic and reclusive as you are, and anyone else can go shoot themselves for all he cares. You are the first partner he has apparently ever shown any of himself to and I can't blame him if he doesn't repeat the experience. Right now, you will return to your quarters to think about what you have heard and seen before I lose my temper and hit you with some extremely nasty hexes. Move!"

Severus looked at him as if betrayed, his face expressionless as he spun and marched with great dignity down to his chambers. He was not going to act as if he was a ten year old who'd been sent to his room. As far as he was concerned, the headmaster was a biased, senile old man with more heart than brains and with obvious preferences for his Gryffindors. He had never expected sympathy, not for him, and had not received any. No one had ever bothered to give it to him because it would take so much effort to ram it through his prickly shields and he didn't want it. He was a Slytherin, completely self sufficient, and if the whole world turned against him, he would prove his independence.

A/N: Aw, such a shame. You'll have to wait until next chapter to see any progress, I'm afraid. Both of them I see as guys who don't often show their feelings but when they do it's deep and they've both had quite a nasty shock. It's going to take more than twenty four hours for them to get over it.

And yes, Albus knew exactly what he was doing. While Severus was annoyed, he was staying there and listening so that he could reply. If he'd going apathetic, there'd be no point in it whatsoever - my mum uses it on me on occasion.

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