I'm so very grateful to Elsa2 who beta'd this chapter as well! She's marvellous, and she's a very good writer - go and read her stories, they're better than mine:-)

Chapter 6 – Seren

The walk took almost two hours, but with the old man being a Squib Seren couldn't even propose to Apparate there, He didn't seem to have a car either, so Seren walked obediently after the dirty, flapping coat.

The two hours gave him the chance to remember his father's advices in similar situations:

"Never trust strangers!"

"Try to check his thoughts to see if they are hostile or not!"

"Keep your wand at hand!"

But he was mad at his father, terribly mad, and this meeting just increased this anger. He had finally found somebody to show him the truth!

And the advice seemed to him to be mere obstacles in his way to find himself; his own past; his own life. His father had no right to keep secret a fact that not only Fred, but the old Squib here had almost immediately guessed and recognised.

It was impossible his parents hadn't known about his ancestry.

How, how then could they have made Fred believe that they hadn't known? Not just his father, but his mother too!

In the last days his life had seemed to collapse around him; in the place of security and love crept something ugly and menacing, which swirled in the depth of his consciousness like a monster ready to break out and flood his life…

He didn't know where those thoughts came from, but the insecurity was like a monster lying in wait, ready to kill. Perhaps it was more than mere insecurity. Perhaps it was the inheritance of his Death Eater father, waiting for the right moment to rule over him. And even though in the past he would have said 'no' to such a heritage, in his present state of hurt he felt it something cherished and dear, something which linked him to his ancestors, his real family.

If there was no other inheritance but this darkness, then he would embrace it.

There were moments of uncertainty when this argument sounded forced even to his own reasoning, but he convinced himself again and again.

If this was what he was, he would accept it.

Anyway, in the end his real father switched sides and went to the Light side; he used the inherited darkness in him in the service of Light!

Now, he was a little sorry for not letting the hat put him in Slytherin. Perhaps that would have been his real place, Professor Zabini's house, accepting his own dark side! But then he had known nothing about his true self at that time, and later on his father's lie had been so comforting… Comforting then, ridiculous now. What a stupid lie! Harry Potter in Slytherin! Hah!

His musing were interrupted by the sudden stop of the old man.

"We're here." He had stopped in a very improbable place. The thin, grungy path which had led them between hedges and stone walls ended here, at a tattered pair of gates which were closed by a thick chain and a big lock. On the other side of the fence the weeds sgrew almost six feet high, which made the severe warning of the 'No trespassing!' sign a bit laughable. Who would be so crazy to deliberately trespass in this jungle? Even he didn't feel up to doing so now that he was confronted with the unfriendly reality of it.

But now the old man was clinking keys as he opened the lock. He pushed one of the gates open just enough for Seren to squeeze himself through between the narrow gap. But Seren didn't move. He just stood there looking at the weedage dubiously.

"Are you sure this is it?"

The man shook his head in a disapproving way.

"You can't see it from here. You have to enter, young master. The defence magic begins, a couple of steps further on. I can't go there, because the moment I reach it I forget why I'm here at all. But if you are the one you claim to be, you'll have no such trouble. The manor recognises those it has to let in."

Seren nodded but still wasn't completely convinced.

"All right. I'll try it. But do not close the gate until I'm sure I can enter."

"O'course," the old man nodded and leaned against the ragged pillar of the gate. "I'll wait."

Seren pushed through the narrow gap in the gateway and took his first hesitant step into the thicket of weeds.

Nothing.

Another one.

Still nothing. Seren lifted his hands to push aside a small wall of Queen Anne's Lace. The white flowers bobbed in his face and he wrinkled his nose at the musty smell.

The third step was more cautious than hesitant because the weeds were really high there – but then, to his immense surprise, the weeds disappeared and a way came into view. The path disappeared into a wood a bit further on, but among the woods Seren fancied he could see the outline of a house…

He turned around and saw the man closing the gate, which groaned in protest. Seren waved to him, but the Squib was busy refastening the padlock. When he was done, he lifted his head and looked after Seren. But by now, Seren went on his way without looking back.

Though, if he had waited a bit longer, he would have seen the small, malevolent smile appearing on the old, lined face.

After Seren had a better look around, he could guess that the park of the manor had probably been abandoned for ages by how neglected and unkempt it was. The weeds weren't as high as outside, but the thin pathways were disappearing under their aggressive attack, and the flower-beds (if they had ever existed) had long since been flooded by them. It was surely magic they hadn't done more harm than that.

And still, Seren liked it: it was his. His ancestors': a bit of his past and hopefully of his future. He didn't have a place to go home to anyway; Barrys surely wanted to live his own life; he would never move back to his father's, and the following year would be his last year from September…

He began to daydream. After he finished Hogwarts (but not as Seren Potter, of course – under under his real name, Seren Snape!), he would move here. He would renovate the house and rebuild the park and he wouldn't have to rely on his father and his money any longer. Who knew- perhaps he even had some inherited money as well, and he would be able to lay the foundations of a future, independent life?. And he would work, of course. He didn't quite know what he wanted to do, but it would work out in time. He had a whole year to decide.

When his eyes caught sight of the building, however, his confident plans dimmed somewhat. If the park was unkempt, the house could be called dilapidated, and it wasn't manor-like at all. It was a simple two-storey house with crumbling plaster walls and gaping holes in the roof. The windows were shuttered, but the shutters were hanging in their frames like broken wings, and the holes behind them peered at Seren blindly and without glass.

To his right, some ruins were visible, almost completely enlaced by weeds and ivy. It was apparently an old ruin, perhaps the remains of the old manor, and this miserable house might have been an annexe for the servants…

He furrowed his brows.

Had that been his father's house? Had he grown up here? But then… he couldn't have been too rich. And they couldn't have servants either, but the old Squib had mentioned something…

It didn't matter. He shook off his confusion and decided to make a tour of the house. He had nothing to lose. On the contrary: he might learn something about his family, and that had been the main idea anyway. Deciding about the future could wait.

He drew his wand, vanished the pile of trash lying in front of the door and, stepping closer, pushed down the heavy brass handle.

The door creaked as he opened it, but the sight in the house was surprisingly different that he expected. The small entrance hall still didn't seem rich, but it was surprisingly tidy: no dust, no rubbish, no ruins, just an old coat stand that could have seen better days.

Beyond the tattered stand was a door to (as he found out when he opened it) a small corridor and some stairs leading up. Every inch of the wall was covered with magical photos that strengthened Seren's suspicion that they had been moved here from the much bigger manor house.

To his right a door was ajar, so he decided to try that first. It led to a sitting room, which wasn't empty: in spite of the hot summer a friendly fire was twinkling in the fireplace and in the nearest armchair, a tall, aristocratic man was seated, apparently waiting for him.

Although Seren had never seen him before, those many photos and his father's repeated descriptions and warnings were now paying off: Seren recognised him instantly and his wand popped into his hand almost automatically. He pointed it at the white-haired man.

"Lucius Malfoy," he cried.

The man didn't seem to be disturbed by Seren's wand; he stood up and made a polite bow.

"Yes. In person. And I think it's very nice to meet the son of one of my dearest friends."

Seren was taken aback by the words and lowered his wand a bit.

"Dearest friend?" he asked suspiciously. He couldn't just shake off those many years of warnings. And his father's lies about his parentage didn't mean that his warnings about Malfoy were all in vain – it wasn't only him who had warned him about Malfoy, anyway.

"My dearest friend Severus Snape. Wee knew each other since childhood, my boy.Though it might seem that we worked for different sides, the purpose that led both of us was the same. This purpose was the reason our friendship prevailed until Severus's death.

"Severus Snape and you fought for different sides in the war."

"That was the appearance."

"Appearance? I was told that Severus Snape fought for Dumbledore and you fought for Voldemort," Seren replied.

Malfoy sighed and sat back.

"I see you take Potter's words for granted." It was so strange to hear the name 'Potter' not in relation with him. "Although you've already experienced that not everything he has told you is true." He lifted his index finger. "He lied to you in this matter too, though I suspect it wasn't a deliberate lie. He just didn't know all the facts. I didn't support the Dark Lord yet it seemed so nonetheless, and, similarly, your father didn't support Dumbledore. I gave information to your father about the Dark Lord in the second war when your father couldn't go on to work as a spy. The Dark Lord knew that your father had betrayed him, because he saved Potter once right in front of him…

"He saved Potter?" asked Seren surprised. "But they didn't like each other!"

"Severus, as a professor of Hogwarts, was responsible for the students' welfare. And he owed it to Potter's father. It's evident why he'd done it. But it doesn't matter. Which matters is that I'd never been in touch with Dumbledore and his faithful Order. Severus, on the other hand, had been since the first war. And we figured that we could cooperate. It worked quite well and Dumbledore had known about it, but Potter's stupidity killed the old man and nobody remained who knew about my role in the events except for Severus, but he barely managed to avoid imprisonment himself…

Seren hesitated. He knew quite a lot about the wars, but this was never more than what his peers knew; a couple of tales and facts from the books and his father's friends. And now, he was unable to judge the truth of Malfoy's words. When he tried to check the man's thoughts with a slight push of Legilimency, it seemed to support Malfoy's words.

But there was another topic: the vengeance that Malfoy had sworn against his father. How would it affect their relationship?

"What about Draco Malfoy?" he asked very carefully not to let his uncertainty show in his voice. "How can I know it's not a trap against my fa… Harry Potter?"

Malfoy seemed not to realise his slip of tongue. He answered patiently.

"Why should I take vengeance on my friend's son? Potter has a real son if I wanted revenge. But I don't want it. That's all in the past. No revenge will bring Draco back." – His eyes clouded for a moment, but he managed to take a grip on his feelings. – "I didn't come back for revenge. Not at all. I came here because I've heard about you. Acquaintances told me that your adoption papers had been found in the ministry, and I felt obliged to come and show you who you are… if it's still possible after so many years of brainwashing…"

Now, Seren's uncertainty reached its peak. Malfoy didn't make any moves towards his own wand, while Seren had been standing with his wand pointed at him for five or more minutes. He lowered his wand a bit and stepped closer to the empty armchair, but refused to sit down.

"How did you know I'm Snape's son? Was it written on that ministry document as well?"

"Of course," Malfoy answered, surprised. "Why, didn't you see it?"

Seren blushed as he thought of that conversation with Lenny. But he swallowed his shame.

"No, I didn't. A schoolmate of mine told me; he knew it from his father. But he didn't tell me any names. I guess he didn't know any real facts either." Knowing Lenny, Seren was sure he would have used every bit of information if he had known them.

"I see." Malfoy nodded. "Well, the document contained your father's name, or to be precise your family name, Snape, because due to the conditions under which you were found, your parentage couldn't be stated for sure. Or so the Potters told the ministry officers…

Seren nodded. Malfoy went on.

"But that wasn't the real, whole reason I came here. I would have thought you would have received a proper education from Potter, including your real identity and your inheritance…"

The word 'inheritance' made Seren snicker and when Malfoy looked at him questioningly, he made a gesture around.

"I don't think I wasn't robbed of too much…"

Malfoy shrugged.

"I came here, because I thought this would be your first place you find once you learned the 'Snape' name. I asked Pinchas, the old Squib to lead you here too."

At the mention of the old man, Seren felt uncomfortable. Barrys had warned him. He had warned him that it could be a trick to make him come here…

"But your father hated this place as he hated his father. He never lived here after graduating from Hogwarts. He has – or perhaps just had – his own flat in Hogsmeade and a considerable amount on his bank account. They are your rightful inheritance. Potter never mentioned them, I guess."

"Flat? Money? No, he didn't," Seren answered and his anger began to swell again in his chest. "He never even admitted that Snape was my father. He told me he didn't know who my parents were."

Malfoy made a satisfied nod.

"He lied then. The document that finalizes the adoption contains the name 'Snape'."

"So you've told me," said Seren impatiently.

"Yes, I know. I just wanted you to see how you were lied to, and in which matters. But, as I told you, there is a more important reason of my being here. What do you know about adoption?"

Seren shook his head.

"Not much. The child is taken in and raised as their own. The child becomes legally his…"

"Well, not much, really," sighed Malfoy. "And in your case is even less. Magical adoption has two forms and what you've just told me concerns only one of them, the general form. In this kind of adoption the adopted will remain the heir of his biological parents or, more importantly, of their magical powers; a part of their magical potency will pass to their child. The other form, the final adoption means a stronger kind of relationship between the adopted and the adoptive parents. The child will become theirs in every sense, even magically. It also means that the child will not inherit either the money or the magical potency of his biological family.

"And I…" Seren began but didn't complete the sentence. He had a good guess anyway.

"The Potters chose the final form in your case."

"That means I can… I can never be the one I am? I can never be a Snape, a rightful heir of my ancestors?"

Malfoy nodded with a serious expression on his face.

"Yes, it means that."

"But that's terrible!" he cried out indignantly. "How could they do this to me?" He turned to Malfoy. "Isn't there any way out of this situation? Isn't there any chance to receive my inheritance? To be what I want to be?"

"There might be," the man nodded again. "And this is why I'm here. I wouldn't have come if your situation was unchangeable, I could do nothing then. But now, we have a possible way out."

"What's that?"

"Final adoption needs relation between the parties. And not any relation, but a close blood relation: second or third degree. So you can adopt in this way the child of your sibling or of your cousin, no one else. Well, sometimes it works in the case of the grandchild of your cousin, but that's not important here and now. Another thing is important: that there is no relation between you and the Potters."

Seren shook his head in doubt.

"The whole magical world is interrelated. It's not entirely impossible that the Potters are somehow related to the Snapes…"

"No. The Snapes are an old, pureblooded family while the Potters are wizards only for three or four generation, and otherwise they are all mudbloods…

The word hurt his ears, but he didn't react.

"Still, they can be related in another, er… less official way…"

"No," Malfoy said with complete confidence. "Pure-blooded families were always very careful against cuckoos. The Potters are not related to Snapes. Potter's mother was a muggle-born, his wife too. That could mean only one thing: Potter used dark magic to use final adoption on you."

"Why would he?" Seren asked. It held no sense. Why would his adoptive father do such an illegal piece of magic in such an unimportant case? It seemed more than improbable.

"Here comes the relationship between Potter and your father, Seren," said Malfoy patronizingly. "Potter always hated Slytherins, but he hated your father even more and he always suspected him to work for the dark side. And yet, your father saved his life repeatedly. You know, the human mind can work in funny ways. The more Potter owed to your father the more he hated him. And when the moment arrived to take revenge on him, Potter didn't hesitate: he stole you, his only heir, thus erasing his name from the face of earth. The perfect revenge on a pure-blooded family: he not only stole its last heir, but he strengthened his own lineage with your adoption! A real revenge, worthy of a Slytherin mind! It's not a surprise though, Potter was always a Slytherin in heart, he could just cover his real self better amongst those Gryffindor idiots. I tell you, Potter is sharp and cunning. And woe to you if you become a target of his hatred: he will destroy you like no dark wizard could."

Seren felt paralysed by the arguments. He collapsed in the chair and lowered his wand towards the ground.

"But…" He was speechless. What Malfoy said fit everything he had learned about the relationship between Snape and his father. But imagining that Harry Potter was so evil, so immoral was another case. "I can't believe it…"

"And you don't have to!" another voice joined the conversation and both Seren and Malfoy turned their heads towards it. Barrys was standing in the doorframe, his drawn wand pointed directly to Malfoy.

"Who are you meant to be?" Malfoy asked disdainfully."The manservant?"

"The biological son of Harry Potter and so the clearest evidence against everything you have been blabbering in the past half an hour." With a flick of his wand he hog-tied Malfoy. The aristocrat attempted to dodge it but with no avail. Lucius hadn't even stood up from his chair when the grey light caught him and fell on the ground, immobilized. "And you, Seren, should have had a bit more sense to listen to a wanted criminal. Dad told you million times that…"

"You are mad!" Seren jumped out of the chair and freed Malfoy with a Finite Incantatem. Barely out of the ropes, Malfoy sent a quick hex towards Barrys, but the long hours of practising had paid off and Barrys avoided it easily. But the duel didn't last long. Seren felt a wand pressing to his temple and a confident voice said:

"Potter, if you want your oh-so-beloved brother remain alive, you'd better surrender."

Rodolphus Lestrange finally arrived. And after him none other than Bellatrix entered the room.

And finally, with a chill that settled between his shoulder blades, Seren realised that it was a trap. And as Barrys lowered his wand, that chance of a way out disappeared as well.

What should he do now?

Next: by the weekend? (I hope so at least)