Qualms

"Why? I don't get it."

Ron hovered beside the window, clutching his wand in a white knuckled fist. From time to time, he peered between the curtains, clearly expecting to see a horde of Death Eaters coming up the walk.

"What does Snape want with us? Why bring us here of all places?"

"It's complicated."

"Yeah mate, you already said that. Complicated how?"

Harry shrugged, glancing at Hermione. She was unusually quiet, brow furrowed as she followed their conversation.

"The stuff with me is hard to explain," he said. "I'm not sure why you guys are here, but I guess it has to do with the Horcruxes. He must've figured…"

"You told him about the Horcruxes?" Ron interrupted, his voice rising to a shriek. "Have you gone daft?"

"I didn't tell him. He already knew."

"How?"

"Honestly? I have no idea. I didn't have time to ask."

"Yeah, well, I'll tell you how. He was spying. He must've been! That's what he does, isn't it? Always skulking around, sticking his nose in where it doesn't belong…"

"You don't know that, Ron," Hermione said.

"I do know he can't be trusted. For all we know, he's the one who murdered Dumbledore!"

"He didn't murder… I already told you…"

"You told us you didn't see what happened," Ron said. "Too many people in the way, remember?"

"No." Harry paused, sighing heavily. "I mean yeah, I said that, but it wasn't exactly true. Dumbledore wasn't murdered, Ron. I know because I saw it."

"What are you talking about? He's dead, Harry, we all saw…"

"Dead, not murdered. He died by choice."

"What? That makes no bloody sense!"

"Harry," Hermione said quietly. "Why don't you tell us what happened?"

He nodded, shooting her a grateful look. "Dumbledore was already dying," he said. "Remember his hand?"

"That ugly black stuff?"

"His hand turned black because it was cursed. Snape did what he could to slow it down, but it was too late to stop it. That night… I saw how much he was suffering, how weak he was. He did a good job of hiding it, but it was bad. Really bad."

"Snape…"

"Snape helped him. He gave him some sort of poison…"

"Poison?" Ron snorted. "That doesn't sound like helping."

Harry shook his head. "He was going to die either way. I hate to say it, but he was. You didn't see what he was like, so sick he couldn't even stand. Once the Death Eaters got into the school… they would've tortured him, Ron. Snape's poison was the only other option."

"So he knew what he was taking?" Hermione asked.

"Yeah, they had a whole conversation about it. He didn't want me to know… Snape forced him to tell me."

"Forced," Ron echoed, his expression resentful. "How do you know he didn't force him to do other things, too?"

Harry frowned. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, maybe it wasn't Dumbledore's choice. Snape could've Confunded him, used the Imperius to get him to do what he wanted."

"Dumbledore was the most powerful wizard alive. Snape couldn't have just…"

"Why not? Like you said, he was too sick to defend himself."

"Not just sick," Harry said. "Dying. Why would Snape force him to take a potion that would make that death easier? If he wanted to hurt him, why not leave him to the Death Eaters?"

"So Dumbledore wanted the poison."

"Yes."

"Snape gave it to him," Ron said, "and he took it willingly?"

"He did."

"If that's true, then why didn't you tell us? Why lie about it?"

"They told me to keep it quiet."

"But why?" Ron said. "If Snape didn't do anything wrong…"

"Professor Snape is spying for the Order," Hermione interrupted. "If anyone on the other side found out he'd helped Professor Dumbledore, his cover would've been blown."

"Exactly," Harry said. "Snape didn't murder him, but they wanted to make it look like he did. That'll prove his loyalty to Voldemort, which will give him a lot more power."

"Power to do what?"

"Take over as headmaster, for one thing."

"Headmaster?" Ron's eyes widened. "You mean he's gonna take McGonagall's job?"

"He has to. With Dumbledore gone, it's only a matter of time before Hogwarts falls into Voldemort's hands. When that happens, he'll want one of his own in charge."

"Snape."

Harry shrugged. "Better him than a real Death Eater."

"It's not a bad plan," Hermione said. "At least he'll be able to…"

"Bloody hell, have you both lost your minds? Can't you see what's happening?"

"Dumbledore wanted Snape to help…"

"He's not helping!" Ron shouted. "He's taking control! Getting Dumbledore out of the way, going after the headmaster's job? If he gets it, he'll be able to do whatever he wants! Who's gonna stop him?"

"It's not like he plotted to get rid of Dumbledore," Harry said, ignoring the niggling doubt that had crept into the back of his mind. "He was already dying."

"Yeah, but why?"

"He put on Gaunt's ring and it cursed him. Snape had nothing to do with that."

"But Snape was there after it happened, right?"

"Yeah, he treated the curse. Did his best to slow it down."

"Why didn't he remove it?"

"It was too late."

"Was it really?" Ron said. "Or did Snape just pretend it was?"

Harry shook his head, explaining the memory he'd seen. Well, part of it anyway. He left out Dumbledore's request, still disturbed that the headmaster had asked Snape to kill him. He didn't bring up the Unbreakable Vow either, deciding it would only make things more confusing.

"I saw him," he said instead. "I saw how hard he tried to save Dumbledore, how frustrated he was when he realized there was only so much he could do."

"You saw a memory," Ron said.

"Yeah, I did."

"Memories can be tampered with. Harry, you know that better than anyone."

"I know, but…"

"I'll bet Snape's far better at it than Slughorn ever was."

Harry couldn't argue with that, remembering Snape's skill in Occlumency. He could hide his real thoughts from anyone, even Voldemort himself. True, those memories made him seem like an ally, doing everything in his power to help Dumbledore and protect the school. But was that the truth? Or was it simply what he wanted Harry to believe?

"We should give him the benefit of the doubt," Hermione said, though even she looked dubious.

"Why? It's not like he deserves it. He hates us, Hermione, hates all of us, especially Harry. When has he ever been anything but mean and nasty?"

"This past year."

"What?" Ron and Hermione said in unison.

"This past year," Harry repeated. "He was… nicer. I know that sounds weird, but he was. He might've punished me here and there, said snarky things, but he never did that in private. He even complimented my homework, telling me I'd done a good job."

"You're joking, right?"

"No, Ron, I'm not. I know I didn't say anything, but…"

"What about all the detentions?"

"He wasn't keeping me after class for detention. Those were lessons. He taught me all sorts of things, defensive tactics and nonverbal spells, stuff like that. Didn't you wonder why I'd gotten so much better?"

"Well," Hermione said, looking slightly affronted. "I was teaching you, too."

"When did it start?"

"September, I think? It was right after sixth year started."

"Right after Dumbledore was cursed."

"So?" Harry frowned.

"Come on, mate, it's obvious. Snape starts acting nicer because he knows Dumbledore's going to die. He uses that time to earn your trust, wanting to make sure you'll do whatever he says when Dumbledore's gone."

Harry frowned, forced to admit that Ron had a point. Snape's change had been sudden, such an abrupt shift that he hadn't been able to make sense of it. True, Snape had claimed he was putting their differences aside for the sake of the war, but where was the logic in that? They'd known about Voldemort's return for years, after all, long before he'd stopped being a git.

Of course, there was another explanation. Harry didn't want to talk about it, didn't even want to think about it, but…

"Are you saying you had an affair?"

"We were… involved."

Snape and his mum? It couldn't be true. Their friendship had ended while they were still at Hogwarts, years before she'd married his dad.

"Sirius and my father?

No, that didn't make sense either. Everyone from Dumbledore to Hagrid had insisted that his parents were deeply in love. They were happy. Surely that wouldn't have been the case if…

"James wasn't in love with Lily. Their marriage was a sham."

Harry shook his head, remembering the raw emotion in Snape's voice, that guilty look on Remus's face. Remus… why would he say those things if they weren't true?

"You're lying!"

"No, Harry, I'm not."

"Then you lied to me before! You and Sirius both!"

Remus had lied. Whether he'd done it earlier that day or years ago, he'd lied about Harry's parents. So which version was he supposed to believe?

"No bloody way. You're not trying to tell me…"

"Harry?" Hermione said, interrupting his thoughts. "Are you all right?"

He shook his head, forcing himself to sit down.

"What's wrong, mate? You look like you've seen a ghost."

"There's something else. Something I haven't told you, I… bloody hell, I don't even know how to say it."

"What is it?" Hermione said. "You know you can tell us anything."

"Yeah, I know." Harry hesitated, taking a deep breath. "Snape is… Snape says he's my father."

When he said it aloud, it sounded even more absurd, not helped by his friends' reactions. Hermione's mouth dropped open, followed by a snort from Ron.

"You're joking, right? Please tell me you're joking."

"That's what he said."

"Your father? That's the dumbest thing…"

"Remus believes it," Harry said. "He was there when Snape told me."

"Did Remus have proof?" Hermione asked.

"No."

"So he had nothing to go on but Snape's word."

"Well, he knew things. My dad… James… Remus said he wasn't in love with my mum. Told me he married her just for show."

Hermione frowned. "Why would he do that?"

"Something about him and Sirius… you know…"

Ron shook his head, chuckling under his breath. "So let me get this straight," he said. "James Potter marries your mum even though he's buggering Sirius. And Snape… what's he got to do with it?"

"He was having an affair with my mum."

"You don't actually believe that, do you? Come on, mate, you're not stupid."

Harry couldn't respond, his face turning redder by the minute.

"Ron," Hermione said quietly.

"I've seen pictures of your mum. Not to be weird, but she was one of the prettiest witches I've ever seen. Gryffindor, loyal Order member, married to a Quidditch star? Why would someone like that shag a greasy loser like Snape?"

"Ron…"

"A loser and a bloody Death Eater? There's no way in hell."

"Ron!" Hermione snapped.

"What?"

"Stop it," she said. "Just stop, all right? You're not helping."

"Sorry," Ron said. He still looked amused, but he kept his mouth shut, fiddling with the teapot as Hermione turned to Harry.

"I've always defended Snape. You know that."

He nodded, noticing that she didn't use "professor".

"But this… honestly, it's the cruelest thing he's ever done. It's despicable."

"What do you mean?"

"It's your biggest vulnerability, Harry. Losing your parents so young, then Sirius and Dumbledore? I'm sure he knows how much you want a family, how badly it must've hurt to lose the two people you've always seen as father figures. To know all that and use it against you…" She trailed off, shaking her head.

"It wasn't just him, though," Harry said. "Remus…"

"Remus must've been tricked. Either way, I'm sure he didn't lie to you on purpose."

"But why would Snape lie?" Harry said. "Why make up a story like that if it wasn't true? I was already here, I'd done what he asked. So why…"

Hermione sighed. "I hate to admit it, but maybe Ron's right."

"About what?"

"Everything, obviously."

"Shut up, Ron." She rolled her eyes, turning back to Harry. "You came here with Snape, but you still didn't trust him, did you?"

"No," he said. "I only agreed to it because Remus said it would be okay."

"Right. There are still plenty of things you wouldn't have done."

"I guess."

"To earn your trust, he had to make you believe he cared, that he had a reason to care and wouldn't do you any harm. If he pretended he was family…"

Harry knew what she was getting at, fighting back tears as he struggled to collect his thoughts. At the time, he hadn't wanted to believe it, pushing back until Snape was forced to change the subject. But to think it had been a deliberate lie, a calculated attempt to exploit his biggest weakness? That was infinitely worse.

"I… I don't know what to think."

"You don't have to think," Hermione said. "Just look at yourself."

Grabbing a teacup off the table, she transfigured it into a mirror. She held it up to his face, waiting for his reflection to come into focus.

"What do you see?"

"I have my mum's eyes."

"What else?"

"My hair, the rest of my features… I look just like…"

"James Potter," she finished for him. "Your dad."

Of course he did. It was stupidly obvious, something that all Snape's blather about betrayals and sham marriages couldn't take away. Why hadn't he thought of it before? He even had his father's Patronus, resisting the urge to cast it as he stared at his friends.

"I can't believe he'd do this. What a nasty, despicable…"

"We can call him whatever you want later on," Ron said as he rose from the couch. "For now, we'd better get out of here."

"Grimmauld Place?"

Hermione shook her head. "Snape knows about that, remember?"

"I remember," Harry said, grabbing his backpack and swinging it over his shoulder. "That's why we need to go there. Whatever Snape's up to…"

"We've got to warn them," Ron said.

"Right. Let's go."

There was nothing to stop them from leaving, warm sunlight caressing Harry's face as they stepped into the backyard. He closed his eyes, praying he wouldn't splinch himself as he focused on their destination.


"How? How did you let it happen?"

The voice was soft yet dangerous, a sense of dread permeating the room as Voldemort's red eyes flickered from one face to the next.

"How did he manage it, slipping out from right under your noses?"

"My lord…"

"Silence, Avery! I am still speaking."

Avery clapped his mouth shut, not bothering to apologize for his transgression. Like the others, he kept his gaze fixed on Voldemort, eyes wide with fear.

"Our plan was foolproof. Detection spells, monitoring charms, patrols around the clock. A minimum of four Death Eaters watching the house at any given time, all to ensure that the boy could not leave the premises without our knowledge. My instructions were very specific, were they not?"

Voldemort leaned forward in his chair, his question met by heavy silence.

"Answer me!"

"My lord, we…"

"I'm sorry, my lord, I…"

"We don't know…"

"Did I tell all of you to talk at once?" Voldemort said. "No, I did not. Mulciber?"

"Yes, my lord?"

"Explain yourself."

Severus sat quietly at Voldemort's side, his expression neutral. Inside? He couldn't help feeling a little smug. It hadn't been an easy thing, evading not just the Death Eaters, but all the extra measures they'd employed to track Harry's movements. Only the most careful strategy of smoke and mirrors could've bypassed them, leaving them in ignorance until his son had been transported to a safe place.

"I don't know what happened. We did everything…"

"Everything," Voldemort interrupted, "except the one thing I asked you to do."

"We tried, my lord! Truly, we did! Please…"

"Crucio."

Severus had no reason to fear for himself, still in the Dark Lord's good graces after Dumbledore's supposed murder. Still, he hoped this bout of fury would be short-lived, anxious to return to his son.

"Let that be a lesson to you, all of you. I will not tolerate failure, particularly when the stakes are so high."

What was Harry doing? What was he thinking? Voldemort's interruption had come at the worst possible moment, not helped by Weasley and Granger's untimely arrival. Had Harry told them the truth? If so, how had they reacted? Not well, Severus assumed. He needed to get back and explain…

"Ah."

The sound caught his attention, Voldemort's eyes widening in surprise. In a flash, his infuriated expression was gone, replaced by a look of malicious glee.

"The summons," he whispered, tracing a finger along his forearm. "It is time."

Severus frowned. "Time for what, my lord?"

"Harry Potter has been found."


"Where's Ron?"

Harry shook his head, glancing around as he pushed himself to his feet. "I don't know. He was right beside me when we left."

"Oh, no. Do you think he splinched…"

"Oi, wait up!"

They turned to see a familiar figure in the distance, red hair glinting in the sun. Ron waved frantically, beckoning for them to join him.

"No splinching," Harry said, resisting the urge to laugh as they headed down the street. "He just missed the mark by a block or two."

"I told him he needed practice. I told him…"

Hermione grunted, a jet of red light hitting her in the chest. She staggered but somehow managed to remain upright, scrambling for her wand as a pair of dark figures materialized from the shadows.

"Protego!" Harry yelled, casting a couple nonverbals as he grabbed her arm. He started to drag her backward, only to be knocked off balance as the larger figure aimed a wand at his feet. Thin black ropes shot from the tip, coiling around his ankles.

Suddenly, everything happened at once. Two figures appeared at their back, even as half a dozen new arrivals landed in the middle of the street.

"Weasley? Weasley!"

"It's all right, Hermione, I've got you…"

He didn't know how it happened, but his friends were behind him now. He heard Tonks' voice along with Moody's, though he didn't have time to look back over his shoulder. His eyes narrowed, all his attention focused on a black robed figure that had moved away from the others.

Voldemort.

"Release him."

"My lord?"

"The restraints. Take them off."

Harry felt the ropes melting away, wand clutched tightly as he pushed himself to his feet. Voldemort did nothing to stop him, red eyes gleaming as he crept a little closer.

"Harry Potter. How nice it is to see you again."

"I can't say the same."

Voldemort chuckled, caressing his wand with the tip of a long, bony finger.

"We don't need restraints, do we? No assistance either. Just you and me… let us have a proper duel."

"Will you let them go?"

"Certainly. My quarrel is with you, not them."

Harry nodded, taking several steps backward. "Get them inside," he whispered to Tonks. "Make sure he doesn't see where you're going."

"Now just wait a bloody minute…"

"Harry, you can't do this alone!"

"I can," he said. "I have to."

"He'll kill you!"

"Maybe so," he said, "but at least one of us has to survive. We're the only ones who know about…"

"Then let them take Hermione. I'm staying with you!"

"Look, Ron, I appreciate it, but this isn't the time…"

"Potter? I'm waiting."

"Go!"

He didn't know how it happened, whether his friends went willingly or if Tonks and Moody somehow forced the issue. Either way, he was alone, nothing at his back except the warm summer breeze.

"What about them?" he said, pointing at a couple of Death Eaters.

"They will not interfere."

They'd spread out, some still standing in the street while others had moved to the sidewalk. One had even slipped into an alley, virtually invisible as he hovered behind a rubbish bin.

"Are you sure about that? What's to stop them from…"

"Avada Kedavra!"

A year ago, Harry wouldn't have been prepared. As it was, Snape's teaching made all the difference, prompting him to respond with a lightning fast nonverbal. The Killing Curse collided with the Disarming Charm, Voldemort's features twisting into a grimace in the brilliant gold light.

Just as suddenly, the light was gone. Harry felt his body hurtling backwards, jerked so forcefully he nearly vomited. A brief, terrifying glimpse of bared teeth and the world dissolved, furious howls swallowed up by the sound of rushing wind.

What was happening? Was he dead? He kept his eyes shut tight, grunting as he slammed into a solid surface.

Nothing. Utter stillness. The only sound he heard was his own breathing, swift and harsh, his body shivering beneath a cool gust of air. A familiar smell, aged leather and well-worn furniture…

"Harry?"

He frowned, cracking an eye open.

"Hermione?"