Lily's Charm

1996

Harry was falling, his heart ripping to shreds as he spiraled downwards toward an endless chasm of black. And then Harry was sprawled on his back on the floor of Dumbledore's office, staring up into Remus' anxious face.

"Lily," Harry gasped, and Remus sucked in a surprised breath above him.

"Harry?" Remus shook Harry's shoulder gently. Harry blinked in confusion before pushing himself up unsteadily. Remus helped him sit up and Harry looked around for Snape, his stomach in knots.

Snape was hunched over in one of the Headmaster's cushy chairs, his large hand covering his face. McGonagall was hovering over the Potions Master with a very concerned twist to her normally pinched lips. Snape didn't seem to notice her or anyone else in the room as he sat, his shoulders quivering slightly. Harry swallowed, trying to force down the large lump in his throat.

He was glad, Harry told himself firmly. Of course he was. Snape was not his father. James and Lily had always been his parents. He should be thrilled. Why then, Harry wondered, did he feel a deep emptiness echoing wretchedly throughout his limbs?

"Harry, what happened?" Remus was staring and Harry finally pulled his gaze from Snape's hunched form.

Words tumbled from Harry's lips before he could stop them, "Snape's not my father. It was a lie. James was my father all along."

Harry expected Remus to look at him in confusion and ask for an explanation to Harry's babble, but Remus only narrowed his eyes for a brief second and then turned toward Snape, a look of pity dawning on his scarred face.

"Remus?" Harry asked with confusion and then in accusation he demanded, "You knew? You knew about this?!" Harry pushed himself to his feet, his voice ringing with anger as he glared at Remus.

Both Dumbledore and McGonagall had turned toward the pair and at once Harry realized, as he noted the sad slump to the Headmaster's eyes, that the Headmaster had known as well. Harry balled his hands into fists as he began to shake. A small glass ball on Dumbledore's desk started to tremble.

Remus grabbed both of Harry's arms, saying sharply, "Harry! Get a hold of yourself!" Harry's breathing felt ragged and he wanted to scream until his voice became hoarse with the force of it, but Remus held firmly to him and as Harry stared into Remus' caring brown eyes, he slowly began to relax. When he was still, Remus released his grip.

Harry bit his lip to stop the quiver, and asked him quietly, "Why didn't you tell me?"

Remus sighed. "There was no reason to tell you," he told Harry wearily. "It wouldn't have changed anything."

"There was no reason to tell me my mum was married to Snape?" Harry asked incredulously.

Remus' mouth fell open. "Married?" he echoed and now it was Harry's turn to stare. Remus however, turned swiftly again to stare at Snape.

"How could you not know that?" Harry demanded of his friend.

"Enough." Snape had finally risen from the chair; his face was ashen. His voice was steady, though it was lacking its usual venom.

But Harry was not going to back down so easily. There were more questions now than answers. "Just how many lies have there been?" he demanded, to the room in general this time. "How many?" His voice was harsh and all but Snape were looking at him.

With a vicious snarl, Snape moved toward the door.

"Stay, if you would, Severus," came the Headmaster's calm request.

Snape whirled back on Dumbledore. "I will not discuss this further, Albus," he snapped, his fists clenched at his sides.

Dumbledore narrowed his eyes slightly before saying simply, "You will stay."

Snape's jaw clenched and Harry took an involuntary step back at the dangerous look in his eyes. The Headmaster was unmoved. He held the Potions Master's gaze until finally Snape growled and glided over to the fireplace, his movements rife with resentment.

"Minerva, if you would excuse us, please?" McGonagall pursed her lips and Harry was glad Dumbledore had not asked Remus to leave as well, as he didn't want another thing to argue with the Headmaster about.

McGonagall left without a word. Once the door had closed quietly behind her, Dumbledore turned back to Harry. "I will try to explain and I want your word that you will listen without interruption," he said quietly.

"But," Harry began, but the Headmaster shook his head.

"Your word, Harry," he insisted, leaving Harry no other recourse. Harry nodded once. He waited as his stomach churned.

Dumbledore gazed at Snape's back, the old wizard's eyes sparkling with grief before turning back to Harry with a solemn look. "You knew that your parents and Professor Snape were all in the same year here at Hogwart, correct?" he inquired. He allowed Harry to nod before continuing, "Your mother and Professor Snape were friends throughout all their years here. From what I understand, your mother accepted a date with James during their Seventh Year...it didn't go well, and your mother and Professor Snape became much closer soon after that. They were married after they finished at Hogwarts. It had to remain a secret as they couldn't risk Professor Snape's parents discovering."

Remus made a small, unintelligible noise at this, but Harry paid little attention as he chanced a glance at Snape; he thought he saw the Potions Master stiffen at the Headmaster's words. With his brow furrowed in confusion, Harry focused again on what Dumbledore was saying.

"Voldemort had gained much support by this time and the Professor's father, Tobias, wished to take the Dark Mark. Tobias died before he was able and Professor Snape's mother insisted that he take the Mark in his father's stead." Dumbledore took a slight breath before he continued, "She knew Professor Snape was against it and that he was friends with Lily. She threatened to kill Lily if he did not obey."

Remus and Harry sucked in twin breaths of horror. Dumbledore paused, again directing his gaze toward Snape. Snape's face was cast in shadows as the light from the small fire in the hearth flickered darkly against his sallow skin. Harry felt a stab of sorrow for his Professor.

Blackmailed by his own mother....

"Professor Snape agreed, but only after he and Lily devised a Charm which they cast on Professor Snape before he took the Mark. Your mother was trying to lessen Voldemort's power over Professor Snape." Harry opened his mouth to ask exactly what he meant, but the Headmaster shook his head lightly, reminding Harry of his promise not to interrupt, so Harry dutifully closed his mouth again; he didn't want Dumbledore to stop talking.

"In truth, Professor Snape was acting as a spy for the Order. Right after he took the Mark, Professor Snape learned that Lily was expecting a baby...you, Harry." Harry grimaced with the two conflicting memories from the past few days, the second still so raw in his conscious that Harry flinched with a pain that he wasn't sure was his own.

The Headmaster studied the wall for a long minute before finishing the tale, his voice sadder than Harry had ever heard it, "James agreed to act as Lily's husband and as your father...James still cared very much for your mother. They told no one the truth, save the Healer who delivered you. Professor Snape, James and your mother lived in Professor Snape's house for almost two years. Almost 15 months after you were born, your mother..." again a glance toward Snape, who still had not moved as far as Harry could tell, "...your mother informed Professor Snape that James was your father."

"She told me...she hadn't been sure who your father was," Remus said abruptly. "She and James, they-" he didn't finish as he seemed to realize that Snape was still in the room with them. But he didn't need to finish his thought; Harry got the idea.

"But Professor Dumbledore said that nobody else knew," Harry said in confusion, wanting to banish certain images from his mind.

"Lily was....in some distress after Severus left. James thought I could help her. I figured out eventually that Lily had feelings for both of them; I hadn't realized until now that they weren't actually married...."

Harry felt another pang of grief, this one for his mum. But his confusion outweighed that emotion by far so he put it aside hastily and asked Remus, "But, I don't understand...wouldn't it have been easier to just tell Sna-Professor Snape earlier," he amended quickly, feeling an inexplicable need to show some measure of respect toward the man. "Why bother with the whole charade, when she could have just told him before I was born?" he asked, his head cocked to the side as he tried to puzzle it out. Harry waited for Remus to answer.

Remus' lips trembled as he finally spoke, his voice clogged with pain. "Because she loved him," he said simply.

Harry jumped as a hand slapped down harshly on brick. He whirled to see Snape, his eyes dancing with fury, facing the other three wizards in the room.

"Enough of this!" he roared, his voice shaking with unsuppressed rage. Dumbledore opened his mouth but Snape cut him off with another roar, "No, Albus! No, I will not relive this. He is not my son. None of this matters, do you hear me? None of this!" He punctuated his words as his hand slammed into one of Dumbledore's chairs and the chair was flung to the floor with a resounding clatter.

Harry cringed and he barely noticed as Remus pulled him slightly behind his body, using it as a shield against whatever Remus thought Snape capable of. At Remus' gesture, Snape snarled, the sound so feral it was frightening. Before Harry could register how he'd left, Snape was gone. Harry stared at the spot in front of the fireplace where he'd been.

Silence reigned in Dumbledore's office and Harry pulled himself out from behind Remus, feeling rather foolish for standing behind his friend like a coward. Remus shifted, allowing Harry to step to the side and away from him. Harry wrapped his arms around his middle as though a sudden draft had chilled the room. Remus and Dumbledore were both watching him in considerable concern.

Harry sighed.

"I'm all right," he said wearily.

Remus looked doubtful but he nodded, giving Harry the space he needed. With a slight frown, he said, "I'm sorry I didn't tell you, Harry. But, there didn't seem to be any point...just as Professor Snape said."

Even though it seemed that Harry should be angry with Remus, or at least a bit annoyed, he couldn't be. The man had a point. Nothing had been gained from any part of this wretched evening--he would have been better without knowing any of this. So he nodded at his friend, which earned him a sad smile.

"Harry, I think you should get some sleep. It's late," Remus said mildly and Harry nodded; sleep sounded wonderful.

"Good night, then," Harry said tiredly, addressing both wizards.

"Good night, my boy."

"Good night, Harry."

And for the second time in as many nights, Harry allowed Dumbledore's stairs to spin him back to the castle's main level.

xxxxx

Harry sat on his bed, long after his bunkmates had gone to sleep, staring morosely at his Pensieve.

It was over...done with. Harry didn't have any extra lies 'mucking up his life, so why did he feel so churned up inside? Had he been hoping, even with the awfulness that would come with it, that Snape would claim him as his son? But Harry couldn't believe that was it, not really. He wasn't satisfied though, as if there was still something that didn't quite fit. And then as he stared at the Pensieve, Hermione's words came back at him

"A Pensieve can hold more than one memory."

That was it! The Pensieve. That's what didn't make sense after everything that had happened in Dumbledore's office. Who had put that memory in the Pensieve and why that specific memory, if it had been nothing but a lie?

Unless...Harry thought with a jolt of excitement, there were more memories in the Pensieve, just as Hermione had said. Memories that would explain everything. Dumbledore had promised he would do as much, but he hadn't at all. Something just didn't feel right.

Making as little noise as he could, so as not to wake his friends, Harry stood and took the couple steps over to his trunk, where he was keeping the Pensieve under a Concealment Charm. Wishing briefly that Ginny were here again so he wouldn't have to do this alone, Harry peered into the Pensieve's silvery-white memories and was pulled downward, through a wall of ice and came out the other side, in a bright parlor with a crackling fire.

Harry wondered briefly why he hadn't gone back to St. Mungo's. Maybe the Pensieve could tell where he'd left off? He'd have to ask Hermione in the morning, he mused pointlessly.

He looked around the room. It was empty. But a second later James Potter walked in, his arms full of toddler. Harry's throat constricted. This must be it then, he thought. James was his dad.

"James?" a woman's voice called from somewhere else in the house. James plucked a half-chewed biscuit from little Harry's hand before turning slightly toward the sound.

"We're in the parlor!" he called out and then yelped in protest as Harry yanked a fistful of James' hair, in retribution it seemed for James' acquisition of the boy's biscuit. Sixteen-year old Harry grinned in delight at his younger self's antics and the disgruntled look on his dad's face.

"No, no, Harry. Mustn't pull James' hair," he told the little boy, who in turn made a swipe at his biscuit with a whine.

Lily walked in as James was trying unsuccessfully to pull the biscuit from Harry's grasp, her arms laden down with books. With a sigh, she set the books down on a table, grabbed her wand and with a quick motion, the biscuit vanished completely, setting off an ear-splitting wail from little Harry. His older self winced at the sound.

"Honestly, James," Lily said impatiently, sounding to Harry's ears exactly like Hermione, and he had to grin. "Biscuits right before dinner, indeed!"

James shrugged sheepishly and began tossing the toddler up into the air. Little Harry began to squeal in delight, forgetting all about his vanished biscuit.

"James! Stop that this instant."

Harry started at the deep voice. He turned again, this time to see Snape striding into the room, a frown on his face. James grinned at him, and caught little Harry in his arms, back to safety. The toddler looked about to cry again but then he caught sight of Snape and his little face split into a wide grin.

"Daddy!" little Harry cried and Snape sent a reproachful to look at Lily, who was smiling innocently at him. "Daddy!" the little boy called again and began wiggling for James to let him down. James complied, and with a toddler's unsteady steps, Harry hurried to Snape. When Harry stopped to reach his little arms up toward him, Snape bent slightly to scoop the little boy into his arms.

Harry had stilled as soon as he heard his younger self calling Snape 'daddy'. He watched in fascination as Snape planted a kiss on little Harry's forehead. The little boy reached a grubby hand to pat the older man's cheek and Snape smiled a little, the expression so startling to Harry that he sucked in a breath as he watched the scene.

Snape pulled the little boy slightly from his body and said, "Can you say, Father, Harry?"

"Daddy," the little boy insisted and tugged at Snape's long hair. Snape sighed and shifted the boy slightly in his arms. He turned to Lily, but Lily laughed, the sound tinkling merrily in the room.

"Just accept it, Sev. You're Daddy."

Snape made a sort of grumpy harrumph but then ruffled little Harry's messy hair, in a way that Harry could only call indulgent. "Come along, Harry. It is time for dinner." Snape turned and with Harry's arms wrapped firmly around Snape's neck, they walked from the room, with Lily and James following closely behind.

The scene shifted abruptly and Harry blinked, trying to adjust his eyes to the new shadowy room he was now standing in. It seemed to be a dingy pub of some sort. The smoke was thick in the room, the smell of Firewhisky so pungent that it made Harry wrinkle his nose in disgust. He looked around, trying to find Lily, who he assumed must be here somewhere. She was.

Lily was sitting with James at a small, round wooden table, her face pale and drawn. Her hands were twitching in unexpected nervousness on the tabletop in front of her. James reached out a hand and put it gently atop Lily's. He gave it a gentle squeeze and Lily smiled at him gratefully.

Harry moved closer toward the table. This must be it, he decided. His mum was going to tell his dad about Harry. Harry wasn't prepared then as a tall, well dressed woman appeared opposite Lily and James. Harry looked up at her; her face was drawn back in a somehow prim scowl.

"I asked you to come alone, Ms. Evans."

"Just tell us what you want," James growled at her and Harry was startled by the venom in his father's voice.

The woman narrowed her eyes and when she did, Harry did a double take. She looked like Snape. This had to be Snape's mother. Harry felt his face heating with anger.

"Very well," Snape's mother said coolly and perched herself on the only other chair at the table. "I know you are bound to my son. And that he is the father of your bastard son."

James' face convulsed in anger beside Lily. "How dare you?" he whispered angrily, presumably not wanting to arouse the attention of the other patrons in the pub.

Snape's mother peered at him as though he were a particularly foul insect before turning back to Lily. "I have plans for my son, Ms. Evans. And they do not include a Mudblood marriage." James clenched his fists, his face again contorting in rage, but Lily reached a hand to still his movements before he could speak. She looked at Snape's mother steadily, though her eyes were filled with pain.

"Severus has his own plans," she said evenly.

Snape's mother arched her thin eyebrow. "My son must break ties with you immediately," she commanded, her eyes burning into Lily's.

"He will not," Lily told her firmly.

"Then, you will leave him, Ms. Evans...or your son and husband will die." She said the words without heat, but they left no room for doubt.

She would kill her own son? Harry's head spun at her words.

"If you harm one hair on Harry's head, I-"

"You will do nothing, coward," Snape's mother spat at James and then said with intensity to Lily she hissed, "You will tell my son that the boy is not his, that you do not love him. I know my son and you are right, he will not leave...unless you tell him to." She stood abruptly. "You have three days, Ms. Evans. If Severus does not leave, I will kill them both."

As James jumped up from his seat, all thoughts of discretion gone as he made a move to grab the hateful woman, she turned on the spot and was gone. With an anguished sob, Lily grabbed James' arm, her entire body shaking uncontrollably. Harry watched with an aching heart as James sat heavily back into his seat and pulled Lily to him, letting her cry brokenly into his chest.

xxxxx

Severus had nearly flown from the room, leaving Dumbledore's office without a backward glace. The Headmaster's enchanted staircase seemed to understand Severus' need for escape as it spun him in less than thirty seconds back to the ground floor.

The Potions Master stormed through the dark labyrinthine passageways that sloped down toward his dungeon sanctuary, each footstep puncturing the silence forcefully. Severus briefly wished that one of his Slytherins would be wandering about so that he could unleash his rising fury. But the corridors were ruthlessly empty and Severus completed the journey to his quarters uninterrupted.

He stopped in front of a blank wall and pressed his fingertips to one of the ragged stones. A door melted into the wall and opened for him. Severus stepped inside his quarters and the door slammed shut, sensing his mood. With a harsh growl, he swung his robes off his shoulders and with a sharp motion from his hand, the black robes flew onto a peg next to the door.

How dare Albus go on like that, Severus fumed as, with jerky movements, he poured himself a drink from the flask near the Floo. In one swift movement, Severus had downed the entire glass and he grimaced in satisfaction as the liquid scorched its way down his throat.

Potter and Lupin--especially--Lupin, hadn't needed to know his personal affairs. They hadn't needed to hear how James Potter had betrayed him fifteen years ago. Even after all this time, Severus could find no bile in his heart for Lily. This was Potter's doing; he was certain the vindictive Gryffindor had seduced his wife...his Lily.

Severus allowed his grief to the front of his mind as a vision of Lily all those years ago filled him; Lily had stared at him with such pain in her beautiful face. Severus hadn't even felt anger that night as he stared at her. As the truth of her words thrashed inside him. He had only stared and then had turned, as if in a daze and walked through the hallways, finding his way somehow into the parlor where Harry had been playing with the house-elf.

The boy had looked up at him, his face lit with a smile and he'd shouted, "Daddy!" as he scrambled forward.

Severus had backed up a step as a sob rose unrecognizable into his throat and he'd stumbled blindly toward the fireplace, haphazardly throwing Floo Powder down as he went. As Severus gasped out a destination, he had glimpsed Lily with her arms around a screaming Harry, trying to console the child who was supposed to be his son.

The delicate glass in Severus' hand shattered suddenly with the force of the man's grip. The Potions Master grimaced slightly as the tiny shards of glass pierced his palm. With a vicious wave of his wand, he banished the pieces and with another, he healed the cuts.

The momentary pain had brought Severus back to himself and with practiced ease he began placing each memory of the past into the unreachable parts of his mind. Before he could finish the familiar exercise, he was distracted as the Floo fired up and Albus stuck his head through.

"May I come through, dear boy?" Albus asked with a gentle smile.

"No."

The blue eyes registered surprise but in the next moment they, with the Headmaster attached, stepped out into his dungeon quarters anyway. Severus glared as Albus rearranged his bright purple robes around him as he sat, unasked, in one of the chairs.

"It was my impression that staff members did not intrude on others' private space without an invitation," Severus said icily.

Albus gazed at him. "Impressions can be misleading, my boy."

"Much as Headmasters can be officious?" Severus asked with a sneer.

"Much the same, yes," Albus answered with a polite nod. Severus clenched his jaw at the Headmaster's cheerful snark, and turned away.

Neither of them spoke for several minutes.

Severus finally broke the silence. "You had no right," he bit out, pushing deep to keep the tremor from his voice.

"I couldn't let Harry leave without an explanation," Albus told him calmly. Severus whirled on him, glaring down at the old man.

"It was nothing to do with him. He-"

Albus chuckled. "Nothing to do with him, Severus?" he asked, his tone suffused with humor.

"There was nothing to be gained from revealing my personal business, Albus. James Potter is still his father."

"Is he, Severus?" Albus watched him carefully.

"Of course he is!" Severus snapped with impatience, not even bothering to consider the rhetorical question.

"How did Harry find out about you and Lily?" Albus asked casually after another moment.

Severus narrowed his eyes and folded his arms over his chest. "I am not playing your games, Albus."

"A Pensieve?" Albus guessed and then rubbed his beard chin in feigned rumination. "Who, I wonder, would create a Pensieved memory of a lie?"

Caught off guard, Severus gaped at him. He had been too tangled up in his own anger and grief to question the memories' origins.

"Where did Harry get the Pensieve?" Albus inquired, his eyes intense as he leaned forward to stare at Severus.

"Gringotts" Severus answered automatically.

Albus sat back. "I see," he nodded, a satisfied look on his face.

Severus' temper flared again. "You do not see anything, Albus. There is nothing to see." He fixed Albus with a steely glare. "I will not tolerate any more of your meddling."

But infuriatingly, the Headmaster acted as though he had not heard the clearly threatening note in Severus' voice. "There is a way to be sure, of course," Albus mused, as if the thought had just occurred to him.

"No."

Albus simply raised his eyebrows.

"Surely it is best to know the truth, Severus?" he asked innocently.

"I know the truth. Lily would not lie to me about something such as this."

"Indeed. Excepting the first time she lied to you about it, of course."

Severus stiffened as he forced himself not to grab the Headmaster and shake him violently. "How dare you impugn Lily?" he demanded, trying to keep his voice level. He barely succeeded.

Albus was gazing at him in frank wonder. "Still, after all these years, you harbor no anger toward Lily?" Severus did not answer. "You love her," Albus stated plainly

Severus turned away from the Headmaster. "Leave me." He had meant to sound aggressive, but the statement came out instead beseeching, and Severus cursed himself for his weakness.

Albus went right on, ignoring Severus' plea, "If Harry were your son, would you find love for him again as well, Severus?"

"Get out."

The menace in the Potions Master's voice was unmistakable this time and Albus, with a weary sigh, stood. He had his answer; there was no need to torture his young friend any further.

Besides, the Headmaster had a potion to prepare.

xxxxx

Harry watched his mum and James, clutching at one another, until the scene dissolved and then Harry felt himself floating upward as if he was being dragged by an invisible anchor and he found himself again in Gryffindor tower, listening to the steady snoring of his bunkmates.

There were no violent impulses this time, fighting their way to the surface for release. Harry felt strangely calm...at ease. Of course there was a vague notion in there somewhere that it would not be as simple as all that...to be Snape's son. He wasn't even sure he wanted any such thing.

But it really didn't matter, Harry decided as he sat there. He had seen the depth of love his mum had had for Snape and he knew in his heart that she would want this. She had presumably placed those memories in the Pensieve so that someday Harry might know the truth.

Everything made sense now...those feelings of dread he had had after seeing James and his mum in Snape's Pensieve last year. It had seemed wrong. But this, this idea that Snape and his mum had loved each other, no matter how bizarre it might sound to anyone else, it was just right.

And there was something else beginning to clog up Harry's chest as he pushed himself up onto his bed, letting his legs dangle over the side. He had been loved, as well, by both of them. Harry wasn't daft enough to believe that Snape was about to run up to him with some declaration of a father's love, in fact the very idea made him shudder a little. But Harry was certain that the Potions Master had loved him once, all those years ago.

Maybe, with enough time and very careful steps, maybe Snape could feel something less than hatred for him...maybe. Harry reached a hand to rub his throbbing head, trying to soothe the headache that had been pounding steadily all night and as he massaged his temple lightly, his fingers smoothed over his scar. He stilled.

Voldemort.

All at once, Harry felt as if he was a piece of Drooble's Best Chewing Gum, popped unceremoniously and deflated. Harry realized now, of course, that Snape was not working for Voldemort, as he had suggested to Dumbledore last year, but the Potions Master was still supposed to be acting as a spy for the snake-like bastard.

Even if Snape eventually wanted to, he couldn't claim Harry as his son, could he? Not while Voldemort was alive. Harry groaned and rolled over fully onto his bed and curled his face up against his cool pillow. Well, he decided determinedly as he punched his pillow down to get comfortable, somehow he would solve this. He owed it to his mother.

Harry yawned as exhaustion finally caught up with him. He would go over all of it with Hermione in the morning, and maybe he'd even make another trip to Dumbledore's office. Snape's pain had seemed to bother the Headmaster greatly; surely he would be eager to help. Harry was hesitant to trust the old wizard, but he was determined to do this for his mum.

Harry smiled into his pillow and let his mind wander back to the memory of Snape ruffling his toddler self's hair affectionately. The image inexplicably warmed him and Harry drifted into a more peaceful sleep than he had experienced in almost a week.

xxxxx

Harry was jolted awake, hours later by a loud thump near his head. He peeled his eyes open groggily, trying to see through the darkness. Ron's face was much too close, illuminated suddenly by the tip of Ron's wand.

"Sorry," Ron said sheepishly as Harry moved hastily backwards, until he bumped into his headboard.

"What are you doing, Ron?" Harry groused, rubbing at his head. Ron straightened, chanting "Nox," as he did so. Harry struggled to adjust to the absence of light again. He felt his bed shifting slightly; he pulled his legs out of the way before Ron could sit on them. "Well?" he demanded, completely agitated at having been woken up.

"I was downstairs with Hermione," Ron said in a rush. Harry stared at the spot where he figured Ron's face had to be.

"Why?" he asked stupidly.

The bed shifted again. "Hermione had an idea...about the Pensieve. But she didn't want to wake you up." Ron's disgust was obvious and Harry laughed.

"So you woke me up instead?"

"I didn't mean to!" Ron told him in an indignant whisper. Harry's covers rustled. "Listen, Harry, I think Hermione's really lost it this time. She made me promise to tell you, but...." He trailed off uncertainly and Harry shook his head. He'd told Ron and Hermione what had happened in Dumbledore's office as soon as he'd returned earlier and they had been frankly stunned; even Hermione had had nothing to offer. Though apparently, she hadn't stopped thinking about it.

"Say a Lumos, will you? This is ridiculous." Ron chanted the Charm quickly and Harry smiled at the subdued look on his friend's face. "It's all right, Ron. I figured it out on my own. I went back into the Pensieve and it's all sorted out...Snape's my father."

Ron gaped at him. "How?" he asked quickly. Harry explained briefly and when he'd finished, Ron was nodding thoughtfully. "It just didn't make sense," he mused.

"Yeah," Harry nodded, appreciating his friend's support. Of course, he hadn't mentioned his tacit plans to make Snape see the truth. Harry plucked at his blanket nervously for a minute, remembering fourth year when Ron had ignored him for all those weeks and thought maybe it would be better not to tell the redhead. But Harry didn't want to underestimate his friend, so he took a breath and said quickly, "I'm going to tell him."

Ron, after a beat, nodded. "Your mum would like that," he said quietly and Harry grinned.

"Thanks, Ron."

Ron nodded again and slid off Harry's bed. "Better get to sleep, mate." He chanted another, "Nox," and the room slipped into black again. Harry listened as Ron padded over to his own bed and hopped up.

"Night," Harry told him, rolling back over onto his side.

"Night, Harry."

xxxxx

Ron and Harry met an extremely agitated Hermione, accompanied by a calmer Ginny, the next morning as they made their slow way to the common room. Hermione turned abruptly to Ron. "Did you tell him?" she asked tersely.

"Hermione," Harry interjected before Ron could frame a reply, "I figured it out myself last night."

Hermione looked at Harry in surprise, but then she brushed aside a few strands of stray hair. "And?" she demanded impatiently.

Harry rolled his eyes. "I'll explain on the way to breakfast," he promised as he turned away. Ron and Ginny followed him while Hermione huffed in frustration before falling in step as well. As they made their way to the Great Hall, Harry explained. His news, especially the part about making sure Snape knew the truth, had both girls practically giddy with excitement.

Hermione, it proved, was absolutely useless for ideas on what to do about the 'Voldemort situation' as Ron termed it.

Harry tried to shrug it off though as he spotted Dumbledore seated at the head table. Snape was missing, Harry noticed as well. The man was probably still livid about last night. Harry grimaced at the thought. How was he supposed to tell him anything if he was going to go about breaking furniture and disappearing into thin air? Harry groaned loudly and buried his face in his elbow. This was going to be impossible.

Harry raised his head again as the Owl Post arrived and Harry looked up automatically for Hedwig, as he always did. With a jolt of surprise, he spotted his snowy white friend among the other owls and watched as she glided toward him.

Hedwig landed gracefully in front of his plate and Harry plucked a smooth envelope from her beak. Hedwig hooted happily at him. Harry stroked her white feathers and in return, Hedwig nipped his finger affectionately. She snatched up a bit of Harry's bacon from his plate before hooting once again and taking to the air

Harry tore the envelope open eagerly and unfolded the parchment. Harry closed his eyes briefly after he'd read the short missive. Dumbledore again! For the third day in a row, the Headmaster was summoning him to his office.

Harry looked up at the head table once more. Dumbledore was staring right at him. As Harry caught his eye, the Headmaster winked. Damn the man. How had he known Harry would want to see him today? Harry nodded briefly at Dumbledore before turning away again, shaking his head resignedly.

Harry only realized after he'd crumpled Dumbledore's letter that he had Potions after lunch. His gut rippled in nervous anticipation as he thought about it. He had no idea how to act around the Professor. Snape was sure to be as irascible as ever, and Harry felt the familiar tug of resentment toward him. He couldn't help it and Harry wondered if he'd ever be able to get past his learned dislike of Snape.

With a sigh, Harry stood with his friends as they began to gather their bags. He waved to Ginny as she joined the other fifth years and then he followed Hermione and Ron toward the Transfiguration classroom.

Harry noted the assessing look McGonagall favored him with; he tried to give her a reassuring smile. McGonagall raised her eyebrow a fraction before turning her attention to the start of class. Thankfully, the class went by swiftly and afterwards Harry and Ron spent lunch talking Quidditch with Dean and Seamus, while Hermione practically did a re-enactment of Transfiguration class for a less than captive Neville.

It was with a rapidly beating heart that Harry made his way to the dungeons after lunch. His barely eaten sandwich gurgled unhappily in his stomach as he sat at the same table he had shared with Malfoy two days before; he didn't want to begin class with Snape snapping at him to 'use his brain for once' followed by a curt demand that he move.

Malfoy came in while Harry was arranging his Potions supplies. The Slytherin didn't register any surprise at finding Harry at his usual table. He sat without a word and began taking out his own ingredients. Harry snuck a quick look around the classroom; everyone else it seemed, had had the same idea as they were all paired up according to the new partnering system.

Harry fidgeted in his seat after he'd put out all of his supplies and he winced as he heard the classroom door slam open with a resounding thud. Damn. Snape's mood had obviously not improved since last night.

"Silence," Snape barked as he thundered toward the front of the classroom. When he reached his destination, he pivoted on his heel, his black robes swirling in an angry arc behind him. As the fabric settled gracefully around his legs, he narrowed his eyes and glared around the classroom.

"You will find today's Potion on page 154. You will complete the Potion in silence. Begin," he commanded and with a rustle of parchment and some scraping of stools, the students complied.

Great, Harry thought, annoyed. Just how were he and Malfoy supposed to make a Potion together without even talking? Hermione, it seemed had the same concern. She was whispering out the side of her mouth at Nott, who was staring straight ahead, pretending not to hear her.

"I said silence, Miss Granger. Ten points from Gryffindor," Snape's harsh voice echoed off the dungeon walls. Harry glanced back at Hermione, who was now staring down at her Potions book, presumably trying not to cry. Harry clenched his jaw in anger; he tried to stifle it as he found the right page in his book.

Malfoy had already found the correct page. He had lit a fire under his cauldron and was slicing an eel's heart into neat quarter inch pieces. He put the bits into the cauldron and turned to Harry, his eyes raised expectantly. Harry stared at him.

Malfoy's eyes flashed downward, toward his book and then back up to Harry. Harry wanted to laugh. Malfoy was planning to mime his way through the assignment? Well, at least that way, Harry concluded, he wouldn't lose any points, so he quickly read the second ingredient listed and set to work measuring out a spoonful of powdered Toenail of Sheep.

Harry didn't hear one more word from any of the students. In fact, for the next two hours, the classroom was devoid of almost any noise, save the chopping and slicing of various ingredients. Harry was therefore startled when Snape's voice cracked against the silence like a whip as he and Malfoy were finishing their potion.

"Dreadful, Weasley." When Parkinson blinked up at Snape in confusion, he continued in a haughty voice, "Ten points to Miss Parkinson for having to put up with your idiocy. The sharp intake of breath from the other Gryffindors had the Potions Master saying casually, "I believe I asked for silence. Another ten points from Gryffindor seems to be in order."

Harry wanted to throttle the man. He glared at him as Snape glided over to his and Malfoy's table. Snape ignored Harry completely and turned to Malfoy expectantly. "I trust you were able to make a decent Potion, Mr. Malfoy, in spite of whatever interference Mr. Potter may have created?" Harry's hands began to quiver at Snape's attack.

Malfoy had the gall to nod smartly at Snape's question.

"Excellent, Mr. Malfoy," Snape approved and he put his nose toward Malfoy's cauldron. Harry wished he could shove his sneering face into the boiling liquid. Snape sniffed the Potion before announcing, "Twenty points to Slytherin." With a piercing glance at Harry, he added, "And, twenty points from Gryffindor for your interference."

Harry understood immediately that Snape wasn't referring to today's Potion at all.

"That's not fair!" Parvati Patil's voice rang out indignantly. Snape turned smoothly toward her.

"Fair, Miss Patil? Oh, I believe Mr. Potter is quite adequately acquainted with life's inequities. And that will be another 10 points from Gryffindor for ignoring my instructions."

Parvati spluttered but lapsed into silence. The man was unbelievable, Harry fumed, but Snape wasn't finished. "Fifty points in one class session...even for Gryffindor, that is quite a feat," the Potions Master drawled. "I suppose for you though, Potter, it was merely a desire to follow your father's shining example."

Harry finally snapped and he said recklessly, "I don't think my father is ready to be an example to anyone."

Snape narrowed his eyes at Harry. "Class Dismissed," he snapped out. Harry rose. "Sit, Potter," Snape spat and then after watching to make sure all the other students had left the classroom, Snape used his wand to slam the door shut. He whirled toward Harry and slapping his hands abruptly onto the table, he leaned toward the boy menacingly so that they were nose to nose.

Harry didn't move away.

"I did not realize even you were incapable of logical reasoning, Potter, so let me put it in words you can understand. You saw a memory of a lie. I am not your father. And you will not allude to such a thing again, not to me...not to anyone. Do you understand?" Snape's voice had started out levelly and then risen at the end so that the man was very nearly screeching into Harry's face.

This is it, Harry decided and steadied himself as Snape continued to breathe in his face as he waited, the scent of cloves heavy on the man's breath.

"Ah. I've found the two of you together...wonderful."

Snape and Harry snapped their heads around. Dumbledore was rocking on his heels, his hands folded sedately in front of him, smiling serenely.

Much as if he were one of Fred and George's fireworks, Snape shot up from where he was bent over Harry's desk to glare at the Headmaster. "What do you want, Albus?" he bit out and Harry almost smiled at the way Snape was clenching his jaw. Well, he knew where he had gotten his temper from anyway.

"I think it might be best to have this issue settled before I leave," Dumbledore told him matter-of-factly.

"Where are you going?" Harry blurted out without thinking.

Dumbledore turned his smile on Harry, his eyes twinkling. "I have some business to take care of, my boy." Harry tilted his head, his mind already beginning to turn over the many scenarios, which might take the Headmaster away from the castle. All of them involved Voldemort. "As I will not be back for some time," Dumbledore continued, "it would put my mind at ease if I knew there were no more questions." He held up a flask of something that looked like bluish-grey water and shook it gently.

Snape folded his arms across his chest. "I will not contribute," he growled.

"What is it?" Harry asked curiously; Snape shot him a disgusted glare.

"Filial Potion," Dumbledore answered before Snape could belittle Harry for knowing less than a fourth year.

"Like a Muggle paternity test," Harry concluded and Dumbledore nodded while Snape sneered at the inexact parallel. "What do we need to do?" Harry asked, thinking it would probably be easier than having to share the Pensieve memories with the Potions Master.

The Headmaster smiled. "All things in order, Harry. Didn't you have something to say to Professor Snape first?"

Harry scowled at the Headmaster. How did he do that? But, since he did have something to say and since Dumbledore was not likely to tell him any more about the Filial Potion until he did so, Harry nodded, feeling all of sudden, lightheaded.

"I-I went back into the Pensieve last night. There were...more memories," he stammered. Harry was staring intensely at Snape as he spoke and he thought he saw something spark in the dark eyes, but then they were unreadable black again and Harry looked away.

"Yes, Harry?" The Headmaster asked gently.

Harry swallowed. "There was a woman...in a pub, I think. She was talking to my mum and James. She was threatening my mum."

Snape grew very still. Harry looked up again. Snape was staring at him, his face filled with some emotion that Harry didn't recognize. Harry held his gaze, trying to find a way to make Snape see what he had seen in the Pensieve.

He brought the memories from last night to the front of his mind and he focused on the images as his gaze continued to bore into Snape's. Harry became slowly aware of other memories, other images that he at once recognized as Snape's. All the images began to twist and flow together and as they began to sharpen in their intensity, Harry was no longer able to separate Snape's thoughts from his own.

Lily's eyes filled with love. Severus rumpling Harry's hair. Lily clutching Harry as Snape Flooed away. Lily sobbing into James' chest. Severus slumped on the floor, an upturned picture by his feet. Eileen in the pub.

"I will kill them both."

"No," Snape growled as he pulled himself from Harry's thoughts. Harry stumbled into Dumbledore, staring at the Potions Master, his eyes wide.

Then in deepest rage, Snape began to tremble. There was such hatred, such loathing in his face as he stared at Harry that both Harry and Dumbledore cringed with the force of it. With a murderous roar, Snape flung himself into his classroom Floo and screamed in course fury as he pelted the fireplace with Floo Powder, and then the great green flames swallowed him up.

Harry stared at the place where Snape had been as the flames died down again. Rejection washed through him as he slumped against the Headmaster. Dumbledore gripped Harry's arms, holding him up as Harry's legs began to buckle and the room started to spin around him.