A/N: Thanks for all the reviews guys! And as Professor Radar commented, Harry can't catch a break, can he? Haha, sorry Harry! It won't be getting any easier. Of course.
Disturbances
Chapter 5
Harry felt oddly devoid of any emotion. Perhaps it would hit him later? Maybe he should stay away from breakable objects for the next couple days, considering what happened to Dumbledore's belongings last year. It was rather embarrassing to think about now.
"Harry." The Headmaster caught his attention and he wondered how long he'd been sitting there, staring off at nothing in particular.
"Yes, sir?"
"Would you like to continue our earlier discussion? I believe you must have a great deal of questions, though I cannot promise I know all the answers."
Harry nodded, feeling some amount of trepidation. The more they talked about it, the more real it would become to him.
"I just don't understand anything right now. It seems absurd and impossible. Did Professor Snape even know my mother that well?"
Dumbledore looked over his half-moon spectacles at Harry, speaking softly, "I am going to tell you something Harry, that you must promise not to reveal to anyone without Professor Snape's permission."
"I promise," Harry agreed.
Dumbledore watched him carefully, then nodded, "During her first few years at Hogwarts, your mother was good friends with Professor Snape. Best friends, I might even say."
Harry's brow raised in shock. Things kept getting weirder and he briefly wondered if he mistakenly entered an alternate universe.
"Unfortunately, as with most friendships between rival houses, prejudices and misunderstandings got in the way. Their friendship ended abruptly, much to my dismay. Lily came to me once during her seventh year with a request that I talk to Severus and attempt to keep him from becoming a Death Eater. Even though they rarely spoke anymore, she still cared greatly for him. At that point in time, Voldemort was offering power and belonging to those willing to follow. Sadly, I could not dissuade Severus from joining, as he believed he finally found a place of acceptance."
Harry realized he knew very little of Snape's life other than the brief memories from Occlumency he'd managed to see. He never cared to know, he supposed. Did that mean he cared now?
"Lily did not speak of Severus again until several years later. Quite out of the blue, she once more requested I try to help him. She seemed to feel guilty for not maintaining the friendship and believed this had some influence on his choice. I asked her why she brought the matter up suddenly, after many years. She admitted to having seen Severus several months previously, but that he did not know it was her, due to a glamour."
Dumbledore paused there, again looking at Harry, as if deciding what to say.
"As you know, Professor Snape did eventually return to our side. Because of the love he still had for your mother. I know you might not be able to believe that, but you must trust me when I say it's true. And he has since continued to earn my trust many times over. I imagine he treats you as he does because he sees in you his biggest regret. He feels responsible for the death of your mother, his dearest friend. I do not condone his behavior towards you, but I will say this, I trust the man with my life and I hope you can too, Harry."
Harry blinked, unable to think of a response. He couldn't imagine Snape loving anyone. He thought over Dumbledore's words carefully. "That still doesn't explain how Professor Snape is my...father." The words felt wrong coming from his mouth.
"Harry, Professor Snape committed many atrocious acts as a Death Eater. He has tortured and killed. Though I can tell you with absolute certainty he took no pleasure in the actions, that does not excuse them. He has spent many years trying to atone for those sins, but I believe he will never forgive himself. When he came to me for help, I requested he become a spy for the Order. I asked him to do many things that endangered his life, and he did them. However, as you know, Voldemort could not discover his intentions. I helped Professor Snape to build his Occlumency shields in order to hide the truth, and in doing so, I became privy to many of his memories. The crimes he commit on Voldemort's orders haunted him the most, coming up repeatedly in our sessions."
Dumbledore paused again, trying to find the right words. Harry didn't like where the conversation was going. He knew the sort of things Voldemort did, and had his Death Eaters do. He'd had several visions last year of the torturing of their victims and it wasn't something he ever wanted to see again.
"Harry, you always have a choice. I must emphasize this fact because it is important. We have all made the wrong choices, many times in our lives, myself included. Quite often, we make choices we believe to be right at the time, only to see the better solution later. I think both you and I experienced that last year."
Harry looked down, giving a slight nod.
"Professor Snape made a choice he believed to be his only option while under the orders of Voldemort. He was offered a prize, as Tom put it, for his loyalty. A woman captured by several other Death Eaters."
Harry paled, realizing what had been expected of Snape, and tried to ignore where he knew this was going.
"He did what he thought was best at the time to save the woman's life and his own. However, as I saw and he came to realize, it was not the right choice. And that decision will haunt him for the rest of his life. I must emphasize that Professor Snape is not the man he was then. He has lived through the consequences of his actions and learned from them, turning himself into a better man. Though I believe the decisions he has made keep him up many nights."
Harry knew the all encompassing regret of making the poor decision and hurting someone else in the process. Ending their life. Sirius' empty gaze flashed in his head and he blinked it away.
"Harry, I am telling you this because there was one important part of the memory that Professor Snape unconsciously focused on every time. A brief expression on the woman's face. Something he had seen in the past many times before. I did not connect the memory to another until today. Professor Snape never had any knowledge of the meeting Lily mentioned to me. But I believe the woman in Snape's memory was under a glamour, Harry. I believe it was your mother."
Harry couldn't process the words. He sat unmoving, feeling overwhelmed.
"Harry, this information was shared with me in Professor Snape's confidence, so I must again request that you do not discuss this with anyone else. But I do ask that you consider speaking with him about this matter. I realize there is much animosity between the two of you. and you probably wish to avoid him for the remainder of your time at Hogwarts, however, I hope that you would give him a chance. You have both endured much in your lives and I think something good could come of this situation."
Harry frowned. There were too many conflicting thoughts in his head. Dumbledore had just informed Harry that his mother had been violated by Snape, and now he wanted Harry to give him a chance? He wanted to hate the man and ignore this new information on his parentage. But then some part of him disagreed. The part that so desperately wanted a family that even having Snape for a father would do.
It was too much for him. He pushed it towards the back of his mind, trying to think of anything else, then realized he still had a lot of questions.
"Professor, will the glamour wear off eventually as well? I mean, what's going to happen now?"
"It is a very strong charm that Lily placed on you, so it seems it might hold on it's own. However, now that the potion is almost out of your system, I believe the glamour could easily be removed should it's counter be cast."
"So I could just keep it forever? If I wanted to do that?"
Dumbledore sighed, looking sad, "Harry, it is your choice what you do now. I hope you wouldn't deny who you truly are."
Harry clenched his jaw. He was a mistake. A product of an awful experience. The son of a Death Eater who despised him.
Dumbledore seemed to know where his thoughts were heading. "You are the son of a great witch and wizard. Your mother loved you dearly, Harry. It is my belief that she chose to use that potion in order to keep you from Voldemort's claim. You have nothing to be ashamed of, my boy."
Harry shrugged, only slightly mollified. "Well, if I do decide to remove the glamour, I guess we'll have to figure out some kind of cover or something? I mean, I'm assuming Voldemort wouldn't be too happy with Sn-Professor Snape if he found out Harry Potter was his son."
Dumbledore inclined his head in agreement. "Yes, I will have everything prepared for you, should you make that choice."
Harry nodded, suddenly feeling very tired. He stood slowly, "If it's okay, sir, I think I need to go lie down."
"Of course Harry," he rose, walking him to the door. "And if you talk to Professor Snape, please be patient with him. I know it is not fair to ask that of you, but if you give him the opportunity, I believe he could be a wonderful father."
Harry tried not to cringe, giving a small smile, and headed down the stairs.
He walked through the empty halls, realizing it must be after curfew by now. He figured Snape would be holed up in the dungeons and any other professor would accept his excuse for seeing the Headmaster.
Harry stopped abruptly. Snape was his father. He was a Snape. Harry Snape.
Harry stood, frozen in the middle of the hall. Why was this happening to him? At first he had a dead father, then an uncle that thought he was a freak, and now his father was alive, but hated him? Harry didn't understand.
He started walking again, much slower now. The thought of lying restlessly in bed trying to sleep did not sound appealing. He turned on his heel, making a decision before he could stop himself, and stalked off towards the dungeons. He would just get it over with now. If he didn't speak with Snape, he'd spend the rest of the week anxiously trying to avoid the man.
He tried not to think of anything at all as he made his way down the corridors. He couldn't keep his nerves from rising. He tried to abate the feeling with the fact that Snape had been rather nice to him lately. But that was before he knew Harry was his son. He had gone from representing one awful mistake for the man, to a completely different, yet equally terrible one.
Harry reached the door to the office and knocked before he could stop himself. He waited, shifting nervously on his feet. The door swung open suddenly, startling him. Snape glared down at him and Harry struggled to keep himself from bolting back down the hall.
After what felt like an eternity, Snape stepped back inside, gesturing Harry to follow. Harry took the seat in front of the desk and realized he had been sitting in the same spot just the other night. It seemed a long time ago now.
Snape settled into his own chair carefully, fingers steepled under his chin. "I admit I am surprised you have come here," Snape spoke with a neutral tone.
Harry opened his mouth and shut it, unsure what Snape wanted him to say.
Snape sighed, running a hand over his face. "I suppose I owe you an explanation, Mr. Po-," Snape cut off abruptly, clearing his throat.
"Professor Dumbledore explained it to me, sir," Harry interjected.
"Meddling old man," Snape murmured, looking vaguely angry. Harry tried to relax his tense muscles, but Snape's calm unnerved him. The man must be furious. Harry Potter was his bloody son.
Snape looked at the boy in front of him. He appeared uncomfortable, as if waiting for Snape to erupt.
Snape had immediately returned to his office after the revelation of the potion, pouring himself several glasses of scotch until he threw the last one at the wall, shattering it into a million pieces. He couldn't stop thinking about the woman. Lily. The look on her face. The inane gesture of forgiveness. He didn't deserve to be forgiven!
And now Harry Potter was a new form of torture to him. A reminder of yet another mistake. Green eyes condemning him for his deeds.
It was worse that the boy still resembled James Potter. It made it almost impossible to accept that this was his son sitting in front of him. By all appearances, afraid of him. Snape deflated at the thought. He didn't want to become his own father. As much as he disliked the idea of the arrogant brat being of relation to him, he could not continue to treat him cruelly as he had the past five years.
"Harry," Snape spoke reluctantly. The boy's eyes widened in surprise. Snape cleared his throat again, "I expect you would rather ignore this new information?"
Snape watched as Harry's features twisted in confusion. He thought he saw a brief flash of disappointment.
"I suppose it would be best, sir."
Snape paused at the resigned tone. There was no way the boy would want to pursue this relationship? The idea was ludicrous, it would never work.
Snape nodded to himself, continuing, "I agree it would be for the best. As you know, I must keep my cover for the Dark Lord and this presents a complication. I would ask you not reveal this information to anyone, if you are capable of such discretion?"
Harry nodded, looking off to the side.
Snape frowned. "We both know this would end poorly. However, though I will endeavor to treat you with more respect, I must still present a certain dislike towards you for those such as Mr. Malfoy who will undoubtedly report anything suspicious to the Dark Lord."
"I'm sure that should be easy enough for you, sir."
Snape felt his anger rising and took a deep breath. The boy was still avoiding his gaze.
"Potter," Snape ground out, "As distasteful as this discovery must be for you, I would appreciate your word that you will keep this a secret."
Harry turned and met Snape's gaze. He was expecting the usual defiance and insufferable arrogance, but instead there was just sadness. Snape was taken aback by how young the boy looked.
"But what if I want a father?" Harry stated, appearing as if he had just realized the desire himself.
Snape's eyes widened in shock. He hadn't even considered the idea that the boy would want to be his son. Was he mad? He had treated Potter abysmally for years! Perhaps the boy enjoyed pain?
Harry shifted awkwardly. "I just, well, I don't really have a family. And I thought, if we could try..." He trailed off, looking lost.
"But what of your relatives? Aren't they your family?" Snape questioned, the memories from Occlumency crossing his mind again.
"They don't really, um, like me." Harry looked uncomfortable, eyes shifting around the room, then back to Snape.
"They don't like you?" Snape spoke slowly, eyebrow raised.
"Yes, they'd probably be quite happy to be rid of me."
Snape studied him closely. "Why would they be happy to be rid of you?"
"I'm an arrogant, spoiled brat, sir. You said so yourself." That blasted defiance returned to his face. Snape ground his teeth, trying to remain calm. The boy was obviously avoiding the real answer, but Snape let it go. For now.
"Pott-Harry," Snape corrected himself, "I do not think you are fully considering this situation. You do realize pursing this would mean spending time together? I hardly think that is something you or I would find enjoyable."
Harry bit his lip, mulling it over. Snape made an effort to not to speak again. The boy was obviously not thinking this through, as usual. A relationship built on hate would never work, and it was quite obvious they despised each other.
"Okay," Harry finally spoke. Snape thought he should feel relieved, but instead he felt a small bit of regret. He immediately pushed the feeling away.
"But," Harry met Snape's gaze, "only if you agree to give me Occlumency lessons again."
Snape narrowed his eyes at the boy. It almost seemed easier to accept their newfound relation, but then Snape would have something to lose. The thought surprised him, but he ignored it as well, not wanting to examine his emotions too closely at this point in time.
"Fine. I expect you here Thursday evening at 8pm. You will show more of an effort than your appalling attempts of last year. And you will not invade my privacy again. Do you understand?"
"Yes, sir."
"Good. Now leave. And remember, do not mention this to anyone."
"Yes, sir." Harry stood and exited the room quickly, not looking back.
Snape sighed, leaning back in his chair. Everything was spiraling out of control. He couldn't think straight. He prayed the Dark Lord would not summon him before he could reinforce his Occlumency shields. His pinched the bridge of his nose, if the Dark Lord discovered he had a son, he would not be let off easily. And if he found out it was Harry Potter, Snape would surely die a very painful death.
Snape rose, grabbing a bottle of Dreamless Sleep from the shelf and headed towards his quarters. Sleep seemed like the best and only option about now.
Harry had drifted back to his dorm in a daze, then spent the night in fitful bursts of sleep, interrupted time and again by nightmares of Vernon, Voldemort, and now Snape. The last one had Harry standing in front of the Great Hall, greasy hair hanging in his face. The Gryffindors had shunned him, discovering the truth. He had tried to approach the Slytherins, explaining the sorting hat wanting to put him there, but they began hurling curses at him. He turned to cower on the ground, looking up into the eyes of Snape. His father. "This will not end well," Snape growled, then pointed his own wand at Harry.
Harry had woken up then, a cold sheen of sweat covering him. The sun was coming up, but none of his roommates were awake yet. He figured there wasn't any point in trying to sleep more. The constant fatigue weighed on him heavily as he changed and descended to the Common Room to wait for his friends.
Even if he was allowed to tell other people the monstrous discovery of the previous evening, Harry had no inclination to do so. Guess what guys? I'm the spawn of our most hated git of a potions professor! He was sure that would go over real well.
Thinking back on his conversation with Snape made him uneasy. He hadn't planned on telling the man he wanted him for a father. He didn't even know if it was true. The words had come out before he knew what was happening. He supposed it could have been worse. Snape was somewhat civil, even if he obviously detested the idea of Harry for a son.
The thought sent an unpleasant pang through his chest and the pressure behind his eyes returned. He shook off the feeling. He would not cry over Snape. He should be happy. He would go on with his life as Harry Potter and he wouldn't have to attempt some kind of weird, awkward and most likely painful relationship with Snape. Though the idea of ignoring this revelation did not seem possible at the moment. He was fairly certain it would still be a weird, awkward and painful experience, either way.
His fellow students began to pass through, a few offering brief greetings to Harry while several first years stared openly. Ron finally arrived, sitting heavily next to Harry and looking as though he might still be asleep.
"Hey Harry," he mumbled, eyes closed. They suddenly snapped open and he grabbed Harry by the arms, looking him over intently. "Harry! Are you okay? Hermione and I were worried you'd died or something! I placed my bets on Snape cutting your heart out for some kind of dark potions ritual, but Hermione said I was being ridiculous. She's much too trusting of the slimy git."
Harry patted Ron's knee awkwardly, "I'm fine Ron, it was, erm, an allergic reaction." Harry hoped this was something Hermione wouldn't look into, otherwise he might have a problem. Did wizards even have allergies?
"That sucks, mate."
"An allergic reaction?" Hermione sat down next to Ron. "Was it to one of the ingredients?"
Harry realized he should have planned his answer beforehand, "Um, I think it was a combination of something. I don't remember. I was a little out of it, but I'll find out from Madame Pomfrey later."
Hermione frowned, "When did you get back? We waited up for you."
"Oh. I don't know? It was pretty late."
"I'm surprised Pomfrey let you go after curfew," Hermione continued, eyes squinting in a way that made Harry feel wary.
"I did a lot of begging. It was probably annoying. I'm super hungry guys, do you mind if we head down to breakfast? And maybe you could explain the purpose of adding fluxweed to the potion from yesterday, Hermione? I didn't really get that part."
Hermione's expression immediately shifted into teacher mode and Harry almost let out a sigh of relief. Ron looked at him in disbelief, mouthing something along the lines of "Are you crazy?", then stalked ahead of them down the hall, trying not to listen.
Breakfast went by without a hitch. Harry only took one glance at the head table to see Snape resolutely ignoring him. Dumbledore caught his eye, however, and Harry began to feel slightly ashamed for disappointing him in his hopes. It wasn't really his fault though. And it wasn't like Dumbledore could expect some great relationship to bloom overnight. Harry moved his eggs around on the plate, finding he'd lost his appetite.
The rest of the day passed quickly and Harry even managed a quick, and thankfully dreamless, nap in History of Magic. He surprised Hermione by finishing all his assigned essays early in the evening, then excused himself to his room.
Sitting on his bed, he took out the Occlumency book from the library. His lesson with Snape was tomorrow, and Harry had a few memories he would very much like to keep private after the summer he'd experienced. He wondered briefly why he didn't insist they wait a few weeks to start, but he didn't want to chance the request now. Snape could change his mind and refuse to teach him all together.
Harry thumbed through a few introductory sections, skimming the historical information until he arrived at the more practical. He let out a relieved "Thank Merlin" when he found a paragraph discussing ways to clear his mind. A lot of the options involved intense meditation, which Harry knew would never work for him. At least not on such short notice and with so much on his mind. Finally he came across a method of visualization. Reading it now, it seemed so obvious to Harry. Just imagine a landscape and place yourself in it. The example in the book was a beach, but Harry had never been to the ocean, so that wouldn't work. Hogwarts had too many memories for him, as did Privet Drive. He considered the park in Little Whinging, but Dudley would inevitably turn up in that one.
Harry realized with a start that almost everywhere he'd been had some kind of bad memory attached to it. In the end, Harry settled for visualizing himself in the field behind the Burrow. It was simple enough, but he was able to recall the feeling of a breeze on his face and the sound of the wind blowing through the grass. He lay on his bed, building up the scene and trying to think of nothing else. Then he tried with his eyes open, which was slightly more difficult, but must have worked because by the time he finished, the rest of the boys were in bed and the room was dark, none of which Harry had noticed.
He put the book away, hoping it would be enough, but severely doubting it. It wouldn't help to turn up for the lesson after a sleepless night though. Harry settled under the covers, falling into a blissfully dream-free sleep.