BEYOND SECRETS AND LIES
By: Chiki Yumeshisa

Disclaimer: I solemnly swear that I am up to no good...okay fine! I don't own Harry Potter. All original ideas/characters are mine to claim though.

AN: Wow, the amount of support I got was amazing. Thanks everyone for liking it. It's not quite a new idea that Snape would father Harry, but I hope that the story was made plausible. Ah, darn it, I'm rambling again. Please enjoy!

Warnings: A bit of violence ahead...Rated Pg13. Tempers!

Chapter 11
- Showdown -

Snape did not immediately get out of bed. When he woke up, he found himself staring at the ugly color of the ceiling for a long time, wondering if the night before had been a mere dream. The back of his eyes hurt; proof that he had not slept well at all. Letting out a groan, he rolled over so that he was face-down on his pillows.

"You are the son of Severus Snape."

Merlin, what a nightmare! His son was dead – he had told himself….he had forced himself not to hope, not to remember.

A tinkling sound behind him caused him to sit up, alert. It was the signal that wizards used to announce their arrival in the fireplaces, as a way, in a sense, of knocking.

"Who's there?" He asked, his voice cracking with fatigue. He kicked himself mentally for the sign of weakness.

"It's just me, Severus." Came Dumbledore's voice from the fire. "Did I wake you?"

Severus passed a hand over his face, wearily. "No." He said, sliding out of bed and draping himself with a dress robe. "Did you need something?"

"There are some things we need to discuss with you."

Pausing, with his hand halfway toward his wand, Snape repeated, " 'we' ?"

"Harry is present too….it seems that there are problems…." Dumbledore said, choosing his words carefully. "I'd like to conduct the meeting down in your quarters, if you don't mind…that will be where the boy may spend most of his time if I'm not mistaken."

"What?" Snape squawked, an intense feeling of foreboding falling about him. "What do you mean?"

"I mean to say that you and Harry will be seeing a lot more of each other in the days to come so it will be easier if he knew where he could find you. I trust you haven't forgotten the fact that it is the holiday season?"

Snape bit the inside of his cheek, trying his best not to fling back a retort. "I would prefer to meet Harry in my office." He said, finally, glowering at the flames as if everything Dumbledore had said was their fault.

There as a long pause and then, Dumbledore spoke again, a bit hesitantly. "Ah…well, it would not be in our best interest to have him publicly going to your offices…"

"And him going publicly to my quarters is?" Snape demanded.

"As for that, your quarters are well hidden, and I'm quite sure that you don't have many visitors. Harry can take the quickest passageway to it without being seen."

At that, Snape pursed his lips, his right hand coming up to squeeze at the bridge of his nose in annoyance. If this was Dumbledore's way of getting him acquainted with his new-found son, then he was really pushing his luck. At the same time, he was worried about his earlier statements. There was a problem….

"Very well. I'll be ready to receive you in fifteen minutes, Headmaster."

"Thank you." Came the cheery response, and then, silence.

Grabbing a change of clothes, Severus hastily set off for the washroom to freshen up and banish the look of fatigue on his face. Bags were evident under his eyes, though, adding a surly feature to his already stern face.

Afterwards, he closed the door to his room tightly, putting the room in order by setting the books straight and stacking the pile of parchment papers that needed to be graded, neatly in a pile.

He had just finished pushing the batch of 'Potter Potion' towards the wall on his desk, when he remembered that Dumbledore did not quite have the password to his room, and he'd forgotten to mention it at all. He decided to push his way out of his portrait hole and wait in the corridor.

Unfortunately for him, Sir Cadogan, a self-righteous knight, had taken up the post of being his portrait sentry, because his old portrait sentry had gone off for the holidays. As he stepped outside, Sir Cadogan brandished his sword threateningly, calling out, "You, sir! Stand your ground and fight like a man!"

Snape ignored him, wanting nothing more than to turn around and burn the whole frame along with the man in armor. He saw, out of the corner of his eye, Sir Cadogan waving that pointed weapon around with such force that he was in danger of hurting himself.

Leaning against the cold wall, Snape looked down the dungeons. He had chosen the rooms specifically, since it was quiet and no one really wanted to go there. It was dank and dark, as was to be expected for an underground hallway. Spiders were busily making their webs on the ceilings, the torch lights occasionally flickering and bringing them into view before they were shadowed once again.

Somewhere, a rat must have died, because there was a foul smell in the air. He did not have time to dwell on that, as a voice broke the silence. "Ah, Professor Snape! Good morning!"

As always, Dumbledore's voice was light and cheerful as if there wasn't a care in the world. He swept his arm out, and in his hand he held a box. "Acid Pop?" He offered.

"No thanks." Snape said, eyeing the yellow candy in disgust.

Just behind the Headmaster, stood Harry, dressed down casually with a jumper that was dark green in color. He was clutching his wand in his hand so hard that his knuckles were white.

Sir Cadogan's voice rang out again, importantly, as the three of them stepped up to the picture. "I'll have your names, sirs, if you would like to keep your lives!"

"Variance Venues," Snape snarled the password, ignoring the knight's prodding jeer.

As the portrait opened for them, Snape led them inside, feeling uncomfortable seeing the other two glance casually about his living space. He was not used to visitors. "Shall we get on with it then?" he asked, impatiently.

"Yes, yes, of course." Dumbledore said, serenely, moving toward the couches that Severus motioned to. Harry did not move, however, glaring at the pair of them.

"You told me it would take two months!" He cried. "It's only been one night!"

Bewildered, Snape stared at the boy. "What are you talking about?" He asked.

"You've got to slow it down!" Harry was saying, oblivious to the fact that Snape had just spoken. He was addressing Dumbledore.

The old man raised his hands as if to subdue him. "Calm down, Harry. This is why we are here."

But Severus had taken the boy's features into consideration more thoroughly after Harry's outburst. His hair was as unruly as James' had ever been, and he had a long pale face and a set jaw so full of arrogance and determination that Snape would never see how this boy could have ever been his own…

What struck him cold was when he saw the eyes: James had never had eyes like that. Neither had Lily….a sinking feeling began to settle in his stomach.

"I'll take your expression to mean that you've now recognized the first change in Harry's appearance, Severus?" Dumbledore quipped, lacing his fingers together in his lap.

Snape turned stiffly to the Headmaster. "It's too soon!" He heard himself protest. "I haven't even begun to mix a potion together!" he glanced helplessly at Harry who now looked on the verge of panic.

"You've got to do something!" He said. "Who's to say that the next changes won't happen one after the other in the next few days? What if they happen in the next few hours? Then Bryce will - "

"-How soon can you get the potion done?" Dumbledore asked, cutting Harry off mid-sentence. His voice was calm and collected, but Snape knew it to be because he did not want to scare the student any more than he was already.

"A week….if I rush, I may be finished within a few days." Snape told him. "But it'll be difficult…I still have to research and experiment…and…."

"Knowing you, and your abilities, Harry is in safe hands." Dumbledore said. "It is crucial that Harry gets this potion – not just for his own safety but for all of ours. You do understand that, I trust?"

Snape nodded, sullenly.

Dumbledore got to his feet, then, stretching as he did so. "If you'll excuse me, then, gentlemen, I've some business to attend to. I'll leave you two with each other for your tests and whatnot. Merry Christmas to you both."

Ah, yes, Christmas…Snape had forgotten all about it. He did not even have the time to reply to the greeting as Dumbledore promptly left, the portrait closing gently behind him, leaving him and Harry standing in the room together, alone.

If silence could suffocate then the two of them would have been gasping for air at the amount of it.

Snape couldn't tear his gaze away from Harry's now blue eyes.

"Who was she?" Harry demanded, suddenly. It caused Severus to snap back into reality.

"Is that really of concern at the moment, boy?" He asked not wanting to discuss parentage, his lip curling in contempt. In his heart, he was still refusing the fact that this young man standing before him was his son.

"Yes, it is." Harry replied heatedly. "And I have a name. I'll always be a Potter."

"Oh, you're truly amusing." Snape growled, moving toward his desk that was situated in the far corner. "Trust me when I say that I'm not happy with the idea of you being my flesh and blood."

"Well, I'll never consider you my father." Harry told him, stubbornly. "I hate you too much."

"The feeling's mutual." Snape remarked, dryly. So much for bonding. "Regardless of whether you consider me as your true father or not, the truth still stands that I am. And do not forget, Potter, that I am your professor as well. Five points from Gryffindor for your cheek – I don't believe students have lost House Points over the Christmas Break, but congratulations for being the first to have done."

Harry went pink around the ears as he stared at Snape with nothing but loathing. Then, his demeanor changed completely as his face split into a wide grin.

"What are you - ?"

He had to jump out of the way as Harry suddenly bolted past him, in giddy excitement. "Catch me if you can, teacher!"

Paris was back.

0-0-0-0-0

Paris dodged around Snape's couch, eyes glittering mischievously. For a boy who was in a seventeen-year-old's body, he moved with surprisingly fluid motions.

"Mr. Potter, stop this immediately." Snape snapped, hand coming out to squeeze at the bridge of his nose in annoyance. It was just what he needed: a four year old child to run after.

Unfortunately for him, Paris grinned and shook his head. "You've got to catch me first!"

"Paris, isn't it?" Snape sighed. "I don't have time for this right now."

"C'mon, teacher!" The child protested, bouncing on the balls of his feet. "Play with me!"

Perplexed, Snape stared at the boy incredulously. "No." he said finally, crossing his arms. "I'm not….playing….with you."

"C'mon, teacher!" Paris said again. "Catch me if you can!" He made as if to run away, but Snape firmly shook his head.

"I told you I'm not going to run after you. Now, calm down and sit."

"No!" Paris screamed, dashing off toward the side cupboard.

"Paris!"

"Let's play!" The child quipped, ignoring the professor's cry of exasperation. "You're 'it'!"

Snape could not believe this was happening again. He also could not believe that Paris just had to show up at the worst time. "I'll tell you again: sit down on the couch, Paris."

But Paris was not to be subdued. "No!" He said defiantly. "I want you to play!"

"No."

"Yes!"

"No! Don't make me say it again, young man, or else…." He trailed off when Paris suddenly screwed his face up and began to cry. "Now, what the Merlin are you rowing about!"

Taking in a huge breath, Paris wailed, "You don't want to play with me! You're so mean, teacher!"

Snape made a move toward the boy, menacingly. If he had to pick him up and force him onto the couch to take those everlasting pills, then he would! In fright, Paris jumped back, and in so doing, bumped against the desk on which all of Snape's careful research on Harry's sickness sat snugly in their cases. The sound of glass shattering on the floor filled their ears and both turned to see the mess that now littered the floor.

Shards of glass of all sizes and blood were splattered on the floor. Pale faced, Paris howled at the sight.

Snape wanted nothing more than to cork him, but he knew that it would not help him at all, but rather make the situation worse. But if there was one thing Snape did not know, it was how to be a parent.

"Paris, stop crying!" He shouted, irritably as he pulled out his wand.

But Paris howled louder at the sight of Snape pointing his wand. "I'm not pointing it at you!" He cried, and he waved his wand once. Instantly, the broken glasses repaired themselves, but the contents did not fill them up again. Instead, he waved his wand once more and the mess disappeared.

Paris was still crying very audibly and Snape pocketed his wand. "Okay, it's gone!" he said, desperately. "Stop it already!" But his protest was drowned out by the boy's wailing.

"PARIS! SHUT UP!" Snape bellowed.

His voice echoed around the room as Paris ceased crying abruptly, ending his bawling in a hiccup and staring at Snape with round eyes.

Knowing that he had only managed to frighten the child even more, Snape was going to say something when Paris' demeanor changed and instead, he found himself staring at angry blue eyes.

"He's just a child, Professor!" The voice had taken the quality of that of a girl's. "If you're going to be a parent to Harry, you'll have to deal with Paris some times too."

Feeling like his morning had spun way out of control, Snape looked back at the person in front of him warily. "And who am I speaking to this time?" He asked, slowly.

"Liliana." She replied angrily, as she absently wiped away the tears that Paris had cried. "I'm afraid you have more than one charge, Professor."

"Ah, you must be Lily's counterpart." Snape muttered, wondering if he had gone insane. He motioned to the couch. "Will you at least have the sense to sit when asked to?"

She did so, in a huff, clearly still not pleased with the way Snape had shouted. "I will not permit children running all around my room…..Liliana." He finished, somewhat awkwardly. "It brings about disorder and indiscipline."

"I understand that, sir." Liliana said, taking off Harry's glasses and wiping them absently on the jumper. "But you will have to learn to control your patience." Her voice was sharp and scolding, and Snape had to try and hide his wince. "Harry is going through a lot right now, and will be going through a lot later in the future. It would be better for the both of you if you try to cooperate with each other. Please, Professor, don't make it any harder on any of us….and I beg you to do your best on that potion as soon as possible."

Snape's upper lip curled angrily. "I was well on my way without that brat of a child ruining my work!" At Liliana's annoyed expression, he tried to take the edge away from his voice. "Nevertheless, you have my word that I will do whatever I can for…for…"

"For all of us." Liliana told him, firmly.

Resigned, Snape nodded. "Now, can I please speak with Harry again? I need to gather more blood samples…"

"Of course, Professor…"

With that, Liliana stood gracefully and there was a pause before Harry blinked and took a few uncertain steps as if he were dizzy. He soon collapsed back onto the couch.

"What happened?" he asked, bringing his hand up to his forehead, with his palm pressing down against the lightning-bolt shaped scar.

"We're going to have a very long talk, Potter." Without further ado, Snape took a seat opposite to Harry, who was watching him as if in a daze. He began to explain in detail what had happened just minutes before. Harry seemed to look as if he were trying to look anywhere but in Snape's direction because of his embarrassment. It felt so strange to hear Snape talking so much to him and in such a calm manner.

"First thing's first: I will need more blood samplings from you, as that idiot child, Paris, deemed them worthy enough to be smashed on the floor."

To his surprise, Harry smirked. "Well, congratulations, sir, but you've not only got one son – you've got a 4-in-1 deal." The last part was said rather bitterly for a crude joke.

Snape studied the boy's features again before saying wryly, "I've noticed." He shook the curtain of greasy hair away from his face. "Secondly, I expect you to report any strange occurrences to me directly. It seems that your changes are happening too soon and too quickly. So that I can monitor my progress in the potion-making, I want you to spend the rest of your Christmas holidays down here in my quarters."

"What!"

"Or do you wish to switch frequently in the hallways of the school? I could let you go and embarrass yourself like you did in Durmstrang when school is back in session." He let his voice rise slightly with his words.

Flushing, Harry shook his head at the prospect. "Fine…" he grumbled. Again, there was a pause as the two of them tried their best to piece together the thought that they would be staying in the same living space for a week. It seemed so farfetched and unreal.

"Where will I stay?" Harry asked.

Snape hadn't thought of that. As far as he knew, he only had one bedroom. He hadn't bothered to convert the other rooms of his quarters into another bedroom – he certainly wasn't expecting something like this. "I'll fix something." He gestured vaguely to the doors leading past the kitchen to his right. "You'll have to go and get your things – the ones that are necessary. I won't have you bring any Exploding Snap or whatnot."

Harry bit his tongue to keep from saying something cheeky again. "Yes, sir." He deadpanned.

"And I want you to make sure you take your pills before you come back down here." Snape told him, firmly. "I most certainly won't have a replay of what happened just moments ago."

"Yes, sir."

"And while you're at it, go tell Madam Pomfrey of the new arrangements for the rest of the Christmas Holidays. I want you to inform her that I will be taking over your meal plans and your health issues for this week and that she will be getting updates from me."

For a moment, it seemed as though Harry was going to object to that, but he swallowed his protests and said, "Yes, sir." Again.

"Are you listening, Harry?"

"Yes, sir!"

"Good." Snape took a deep breath, feeling more than awkward by this point. He wiped the palms of his hands onto his pants. They trembled as he did so, and he watched as his fingers twitched.

"Is that all, sir?" Harry asked, getting to his feet.

"Yes. I'll expect you back soon. You know the password."

Without another word, Harry swept from the portrait, not looking back.

0-0-0-0-0

Harry returned carrying a single bag and a small lantern about an hour later. He looked rather sick with the way the dungeons were so dark. Pale and grim faced, his blue eyes were sharply visible against his pallid cheeks.

After entering through the portrait hole, he stood awkwardly next to the fireplace, not knowing what to do.

Snape's quarters were just as dull as him with the way everything seemed to be…well…black. The tables and chairs in the dining room were made of polished black wood, as were the cabinets surrounding it. A huge silver and green banner adorned the mantel of his fireplace, the only colorful piece of furniture so far as Harry could see.

He jumped involuntarily as Snape suddenly entered the room. In his hands he held 3 test tube bottles, all marked, but what they said, Harry could not see. They were filled with fizzing silvery concoctions.

"Your room is the last one at the end of the hall to the right." He said. He was about to continue on his way when he paused, looking at the lantern. He indicated it with a nod of his head. "Afraid of the dark?"

A bit of color rose to Harry's cheeks at the subtle insult. "It's a Fragile Fairy." He replied, stiffly.

"No pets allowed."

"She's not a pet." Harry snapped.

"Not a very good care taker, are you?" Snape said. "Fragile Fairies need sunlight in order to live. But I would have thought that the Famous Harry Potter knew that!"

Harry blinked. He had forgotten that his living quarters for the week would be in the dungeons and that there couldn't possibly be any windows in this drab place. Could Fragile Fairies die within a week without sunlight? He glance down at Abcde who was fast asleep. No one else would be able to care for her…

"She'll be fine."

As if not wanting to argue, Snape turned away from him. "Well, hurry up boy – put your things away and meet me promptly back here. I'll start my research as soon as possible before you go about embarrassing the both of us with your ridiculous sickness."

Once again, Harry's cheeks gained some color at the insult. Snape was certainly good at giving them and it was all Harry could do not to give any back. As it was, Gryffindor wasn't very happy about how Harry constantly lost them house points whenever Snape was around. Now that he was forced to be in the Potions Master's presence for more time than he would have liked, he would not give Snape the satisfaction of taking off any more house points than he should.

So instead, he pushed past the man, not willing to be anywhere near him as much as possible. For some reason, a hot feeling filled his chest as he passed him – a feeling of such anger and hatred….and such sadness and sorrow – and he fought against the sudden storm of emotions, confusion taking precedence.

He hurried to the end of the hall, but not before Snape noticed his face crumble.

The room brought him little comfort. It was dark and dreary too, with an old rug and a chair in the corner, covered in cobwebs. The bed was the only thing that was not covered in dust as it was probably just brought in. However, the dark green bedcovers were drawn back over yellowing sheets.

Harry took it all in, leaning his back against the door.

After a few moments, he reluctantly opened the door again after settling Abcde down carefully on the dusty chair.

He made his way slowly back, trying to ignore the rumbling of his stomach. With all the excitement of the morning, he had forgotten to eat and now he could not ignore it any longer.

As if to tempt him, a delicious aroma filled his nostrils and he followed the smell to the kitchen door, where, no doubt, Snape was seated to his brunch. He hesitated by the door, peeking in. Maybe it would be better if he waited until the man was finished.

Just as he made to go sit back down on the couch, Snape's voice made him jump for the second time, involuntarily.

"Enter."

So he did.

It was a small kitchen, far from cramped, but smaller than Harry would have imagined.

He was somewhat surprised to see that Snape had taken care to give him a place at the table along with a meal.

"Your breakfast." Snape said, monotonously. "I've changed your diet some, and you will take this potion right afterwards, if you please."

Snape asking for permission was one thing.

Snape asking for permission politely was another. It was shocking.

Searching for words to say, but failing miserably, Harry could do no more than take a seat at his designated place, picking up his utensils to eat. He was rewarded with bacon and a slice of cheese added to his usual menu, the rich flavors a shock to his tongue and he savored the first bite.

The Professor watched him eat, making him feel uneasy, but he soon forgot that as he eagerly ate through his meal, his stomach gurgling happily up at him.

"Slow down, the food isn't going anywhere." Snape drawled, as Harry choked on a particularly big chunk of bread he had been hastily stuffing down his throat. "Have you no table etiquette at all? You remind me of a pig the way you're eating."

The words were out of his mouth before he even thought about what he was saying. "Funny, that trait must have come from you."

Severus looked like he didn't know how to react to the flippant comment, and for a moment, he looked surprised. And then, his features turned dark and Harry knew that the push for civilized speaking was over. "You think you're so righteous don't you, because you are such a 'celebrity'!"

"Well, aren't you mad?" Harry shot back, mockingly. "It bothers you, doesn't it? You're still not over the fact that for some reason, I got rid of your Dark Lord!"

Snape pushed himself to his feet, his face positively livid. "Say that again, I dare you!" He hissed.

"I got rid of your-Dark-Lord!" Harry shouted, jumping to his feet as well, knocking over his chair in the process. His heart felt near to bursting: What the hell was he doing, goading Snape on like this!

Snape's hand unconsciously went toward his wand, and seeing that, Harry's hand whipped into the pocket of his jumper, pulling out his own wand, leveling it with the Professor's that was now pointing in his direction. The two of them stood, wands drawn, each posed in a stance, ready to attack.

"Don't!" Snape warned.

"Try me!" Harry heard himself say. "Don't you dare come any closer!"

"You're insufferable, Potter. You think to attack me, here?"

"I've done it before, sir, and I won't hesitate to do it again."

Snape bristled at his words, and did not back down. "Lower your wand. You know you're not quick enough, anyway."

But Harry stubbornly kept an iron fist around his wand's handle. "Really? You think so?"

Now Snape looked exasperated. "You will lower your wand, now, Potter! How dare you draw it on one of your teachers!"

Harry laughed, sounding maniacal. "You drew it on me first, Professor. All because the truth of what I said hurts, doesn't it?" he couldn't believe he was taunting Professor Snape on like this. He was sure to lose Gryffindor all the house points they currently had (and then some!). His legs were beginning to feel like jelly and his hands started to sweat, but he stiffened his resolve: he'd already gone too far, there was no turning back.

"You don't know anything!" Snape's voice rose, thundering around the room and making Harry's spine tingle. "As always you jump to the wrong conclusions. To think - someone like you would be my son! What an embarrassment!"

That did it for Harry. The blood seemed to drain from his body, making him sway uneasily. The room swirled and for a moment, he thought he would vomit. His hold was slipping…and he could feel Bryce reach his hand out to touch him.

No!

"SILENCIO!" He screamed, ripping his self away from the cold fingers that were drawing him away from the real world. There was a burning sensation as he wrenched himself free of Bryce's grasp, who had taken the opportunity to delve into Harry's state of shock and try to take over. He staggered as the spell was released from the tip of his wand in the general direction of Snape.

But the Potions Master was ready. "Protego!" The spell rebounded off of him before it could hit, and hit Harry square in the chest, knocking him down. He let out a muffled gasp, but then, sat up, clutching weakly at his throat when he tried to make a sound but nothing happened.

Snape glared down at him, coldly. "You will go to your room and stay there for the rest of the night."

Harry scrambled to his feet, feeling utterly foolish and degraded. He suddenly found that he didn't want to ever appear before the man again, and decided that the punishment he was bestowed was the best possible thing to happen to him at the moment. Without looking at the elder man, he fled for the door, yanking it open angrily. "Oh, and while you're at it, make sure you don't make any noise."

A smirk of contempt played at the corners of Snape's lips at those last words, and Harry slammed the door shut behind him before running to his room. There, he slammed his own door shut and stood with his back against it, for the second time that day.

He couldn't stand that Snape got the last word – literally. Hot tears streamed down his face.

It was going to be a very long week indeed.

To be Continued...

AN: Well, things aren't going to get suddenly pretty and all sunshiney now that they've figured out the truth. The struggle begins: oh the joys of parenting! (Not that I am one, so who am I to speak?) I hope that it was believable, and if there are any comments/suggestions/complains/concerns, please let me know! I look forward to your reviews again everyone. Thank you to Sensibly Tainted, Mimiheart, thee-unknown-factor-Incognito, optimistic girl94, junyortrakr, and mikemack for all the inspiration and the urge to keep going.

Please please review for me again! There's nothing an author loves more than to see what her readers think.