Lily's Charm

1981

The Floo Network spit Severus out unceremoniously onto the hard stone floor of his small cottage, which Albus had created as a safe house for his family. Severus staggered toward a chair, but he stumbled and was forced to grasp clumsily at a small table; his fingers found unsteady purchase with a silver frame.

His trembling fingers slipped and the frame tumbled to the floor; Severus barely heard the tinkling of the glass as it shattered and not having enough strength to make it to the nearby chair, Severus collapsed in a great black heap on the floor, his legs splaying out in front of him.

Severus' chest heaved as he sat. He was beyond trying to control himself, beyond even attempting Occlusion to bring some measure of relief. Harry was not his son. Lily had slept with James.

Severus' mind was racing with confusion, and he desperately tried to find some sense in all the confliction, tried to bring order to the chaos but it was no use. Severus could not take this pain and neatly put it away, pretending none of it had happened. His life was a lie; he had lost his son...his wife...his family.

James--Potter...Potter had ripped his life from him. And in a surge of fury, Severus screamed and the sound pierced the still air. Potter had stolen his wife, his son...every reason Severus had for living. Severus clenched his fists until his fingernails drew blood from his calloused palms and he vowed that the next time he saw James Potter, he would kill him. As slowly and painfully as possible.

The Gryffindor had seduced his wife...his Lily. He could not blame Lily for this. Severus had always known he was unworthy of her, just as he had been unworthy of his parents as a child. As Severus sat on the hard, cold floor shaking with anguished rage, he had to concede that even in his shock, he had always been expecting Lily to find someone better; he had been waiting for it.

Lily could not help it, he knew. Every day that Severus had been with her, he was freshly astonished that she still wanted him. He had never, never been good enough for Lily Evans. The self-loathing that had been ever-present since his childhood, had abated a bit over the years as Lily had shown Severus that he was more than the worthless child his parents had claimed him to be.

But now, the self hatred came rushing back to him and he thought of Lily again, her beautiful face, her fiery, gentle soul...even Lily...dear Lily, so full of love herself, could not love him. Because Severus knew he was in fact, unlovable.

"Harry...."

Severus' grief consumed him as he thought of the little boy, with his mop of raven hair. From the beginning, Harry had looked like James. He and Lily had designed it that way, weaving a complex Charm full of Potter's genetic signature with Harry's so that they could keep their secret.

With a wash of bitterness, Severus realized that even that had been a lie. The way Harry looked now was most likely close to how the boy really would look without the Charm...as James Potter's son.

Severus remembered how pleased he'd been, each time he'd looked at Harry, that he and Lily had left Harry's eyes strictly alone. For every time he'd gazed into those deep emerald orbs, he saw Lily. A low, tormented moan escaped Severus' lips as he realized he would never see either pair of eyes again.

Oh, he knew Albus would come and plead with him to continue his work with the Order and as a spy for Voldemort because though it hadn't been planned that way, Severus had turned out to be quite valuable for the cause of the Light. But, Severus didn't care anymore and he couldn't bear to face Lily again, regardless.

He could stay here in this cottage, protected fully with the Fidelius Charm. He need never venture outside its walls again. Severus could stay until he died or until somehow Voldemort found him to seek retribution for Severus' intended defection.

The thought of death by torture of the Cruciatus Curse soothed Severus and for brief seconds, he relished in thoughts of a plan to bring Voldemort to him, but he banished the plan quickly as he realized that such extended torture would almost certainly break his mind and Severus would not allow harm to come to Lily...nor to Harry.

But Harry was no longer his to protect. Severus would never again hold the small child in his arms, would never feel the sticky kiss that Harry had so often favored him with, and with a foul surge of grief, he realized too that he would never again hear Harry call him 'daddy'. He was nobody's father, nobody's husband. Severus Snape was utterly alone.

--

1996

Severus watched the sitting rooms flashing past as he was rushed through the Floo Network, his anger stoking ever greater with each new room. When he spotted the correct parlor, Severus flung himself forward before the Network had a chance, and he found himself standing almost instantly on a polished stone floor.

An old house-elf popped into existence in front of him, but he paid only enough attention to the little creature to demand, "Where is my mother?" The house-elf stared at Severus with wide eyes. Severus growled and grabbed the little elf by the front of his crisp tea towel. "Where?" he raged, shaking Schminge furiously.

The house-elf trembled. "Mistress is in the library, Master Severus!" Severus shoved Schminge away abruptly and Schminge tumbled to the floor as he stormed toward the staircase. He yanked his wand from the sleeve of his robe and brandished it in front of him as he stomped quickly upward, his fury growing as each step brought him closer to his mother.

At the top of the stairs, Severus took a curt left and crashed through the library's old wooden door. His mother, her back to him, turned at the sound, her mouth forming an 'O' of surprise as she saw her son, framed in the doorway.

"Severus! What a surprise-"

Eileen's mouth snapped closed and she took several quick steps backward as Severus advanced on her, his wand snapping up, to halt only inches from her face.

"You," he said in his most deadly voice, "will tell me the truth or I will kill you where you stand."

Eileen drew herself back by centimeters and narrowed her eyes. "What is the meaning of this?" she demanded tersely.

Severus ignored her question; his entire body was trembling with an urge to utter 'Crucio,' as his mother glared at him. "Did you force Lily to tell me Harry was not my son?" Eileen's dark eyes registered surprise but then she pressed her thin lips into a vindictive smile.

With an apoplectic scream, Severus grasped his mother around her small bicep and yanked her toward him. Knowing exactly what her son was planning to do, Eileen turned her face away from him, trying to pull herself free of his grasp. With a snarl, Severus released her arm, only to snake his hand up her back and then grabbing a fistful of her graying hair, he forced his mother to look at him.

"Legilimens," he whispered and he saw all of it.

Black and Lupin chatting as Eileen sat at a nearby chair, her back erect as she took in every word. Eileen Apparating away as Potter tried to grab her. His mother whispering words of an overheard prophecy to the Death Eater, Goyle.

"Your Lord will be pleased with you for bringing him this information."

"You!" Severus cried as he lurched away from Eileen, the words reverberating through their minds. Eileen, her face pale, tried to draw herself up haughtily but managed only to pull her head shakily away from her son.

"It was you. You killed Lily," Severus whispered hoarsely, his eyes losing all focus as he stared at her.

"Your bastard child was supposed to die with his Mudblood mother. I should have killed all of you myself."

Severus' black eyes began to clear and darken as they churned with hate. He stood, in front of the woman who had devastated his family...destroyed him. Severus tried to gulp in shallow, grasping breaths of air as he looked at his mother.

The words were on his tongue; the Killing Curse begged to be turned loose on the hate-filled, sneering face of his mother. But there was another face stopping him.

Harry.

All the grief and rage gathered in Severus, built up over fifteen years of pain. The despair filled every orifice of his heart as he thought of Harry, his little one-year old son clinging to him for another hug. And he saw Harry's face again, matured over fifteen lost years, staring at him in confused rejection. Harry...his son, who had spared the other who had betrayed his mother, wouldn't want him to do this

Severus directed all those years of pain, every ache he had endured toward Eileen and intoned, "Semper Desparo."

Eileen gasped and began to claw at the side of her head with her long fingernails. She used the other hand to clutch at her middle as she hunched over in agony. Great, racking sobs began to shake her delicate limbs and Severus watched his mother dispassionately as she experienced every grief-filled moment her son had ever had...anguish over Lily, despair at his lost fatherhood, bitterness at James's betrayal, even the pain of abuse carried out by Tobias, and Eileen herself.

Pain was all Eileen would know now and Severus continued to watch until his mother crumpled to the floor, writhing in agony. Sickened, Severus turned on his heel and walked out of the library to find Schminge and Obliviate him.

--

After Severus had taken care of the house-elf's memory, he had listened from downstairs as a frantic Schminge found his Mistress convulsing on the library floor. He had allowed himself a small smile as he heard Schminge Apparating Eileen away with a loud crack, presumably to St. Mungo's.

The thought of his mother spending the rest of her days in the care of the Healers was a distinctly pleasant one for Severus; he knew they would never find a way to reverse that particular curse. In fact, the Healers would not even be able to identify it, as it was his own creation.

After his mother and the house-elf had gone, Severus began to pace. Completely unfamiliar to him were the feelings of uncertainty coursing through him. Severus hadn't felt anything like this in almost fifiteen years. He was not accustomed to not knowing what to do.

The boy he had left, staring at him, in the Potions classroom, was not James Potter's son. Potter had not betrayed him. Lily...his precious Lily hadn't found someone better. She had only been trying to protect Severus and her son. Their son. Not Potter's son. His head began to spin with the reality of it; he had to sit down in one of his mother's chairs before his legs gave out.

Severus could not grasp it. It was just too much. Damn his mother! Severus brought his fist furiously down on the arm of his chair. He could not do this. He would have no idea where to even begin. Perhaps he could act as though none of this had happened. But, would he be able to see the boy in his class twice a week and continue to simply glare and snap unfair punishments at him? It would be better for both of them that way...wouldn't it?

The boy had obviously believed that all of Severus' earlier rage had been directed at him. He clearly thought Severus did not want him; the feelings of rejection had been transparent in his eyes...Lily's eyes. With a moan of grief, Severus brought his face down into his hands. He knew Lily would never forgive him if he chose this course.

But it is impossible, he wanted to plead with her.

Severus could not talk to the boy he'd left floundering in his classroom. Severus cringed with the memory of Harry's face when he had stepped into his classroom Floo. It had been like looking into a window from fifteen years past, when he had stared in horror at little Harry as he'd Flooed away to his small cottage. With a jolt of surprise, Severus' chest constricted. It was the same boy. He had known it of course, as soon as he'd seen Harry's memories of Eileen's treachery. But now...now, he saw it.

Potter was the same boy who had shared his half-chewed biscuits with him. He was the same boy who had laughed as he'd splashed Severus with sudsy bath water each night before bed. He was the same boy Severus had cradled in his arms only minutes after Lily had given birth. He was Harry's father...he had always been Harry's father, and he had spent five wretched years hating his own son.

As Severus sat there in his mother's house, he cursed her, Peter Pettigrew and the creature called Voldemort. Harry would never forgive him. And Severus knew he didn't deserve to be forgiven...not for this. And he knew as well, as he sat there, his hands clenched together fitfully, that he could not even try. The Potions Master bowed his head and whispered, "Forgive me, Lily." It was the best he could do.

Severus stood, with shaky legs, preparing to Floo back to Hogwarts. It would be four days before he had to see Harry again, if he took all his meals in his quarters. The thought relieved him, though the tightness in his chest remained as he reached for his mother's glittery Floo Powder.

--

Dumbledore was standing by the Floo in Snape's classroom, speaking quietly to Remus' disembodied head. Harry was watching them, thinking he should probably just get up and explain things to Remus himself but he couldn't work up the energy. He was exhausted; total and complete rejection would do that to a person.

Remus finally came all the way through the Floo and with a nod at the Headmaster, he came over to where Harry was sitting with his chin resting on his folded arms.

Before he could speak, Dumbledore's voice floated over from next to the Floo. "Well, Harry, I must be off...now that everything is settled," he said cheerfully.

Harry's head jerked up. "Settled? Nothing's been settled at all," he objected.

Dumbledore simply smiled. "You and Severus both know the truth."

Harry glared at him. "And just how long have you known the truth, sir?" he asked.

Dumbledore shook his head sadly, surprise in his eyes. "Surely, Harry, you can't believe I would keep something like this from Severus...or from you?" Harry narrowed his green eyes. Dumbledore sounded so sincere, and Harry didn't believe him for a minute.

"Did you keep it from us?" he pressed.

Dumbledore sighed. "Really, Harry," he chastised the boy gently. When Harry folded his arms over his chest, Dumbledore shook his head again in resignation. "I'd best be off, then." He turned toward the Floo but then turned back again abruptly. "Oh, Harry, I almost forgot...when you get a chance, do ask your father about Draco, would you, dear boy?"

His father?

Harry stared at the Headmaster, and with his blue eyes twinkling, the old wizard stepped into the Floo, called for his office and went up in flames. Harry shook his head in confusion, trying to match the Headmaster's words with the image of Snape, staring at him with those hate-filled eyes and just couldn't. Merlin's beard, what the hell had he done?

"Harry, all you all right?" Remus asked after a quiet minute. Remus had been asking that a lot lately. Harry looked up at his friend, half expecting to be reprimanded for his rudeness toward the Headmaster, but Remus was simply frowning at him in concern.

Harry shrugged. "I'm pretty sure I was expecting this. So, it shouldn't hurt so much, right?"

Remus gazed at him with said eyes. "I'm afraid, Harry, that it always hurts to be rejected."

"Rejected..." Harry repeated morosely, "...yeah." Then it occurred to him, belatedly though it was, that Remus probably wasn't feeling very happy right now either. "Remus," he started tentatively. Remus raised his eyebrows, inviting him to continue. "Aren't you angry?" Harry asked quietly.

Remus' face screwed into a scowl. "Of course, I'm angry, Harry! That bast-"

Harry shook his head, hurriedly and clarified, "No, no...I meant because...well, because I'm not James' son."

Remus looked at his young friend in surprise and then a sad sort of understanding dawned on his weathered face. "Oh, Harry," he soothed gently as he reached out to place his hand over Harry's, "of course not. You're mother was my friend as well...a very dear friend for many years."

Harry nodded seriously. "Thanks," he said.

Remus smiled at that. "Harry, you don't need to thank me for caring about you. And," he added, giving Harry a pointed look, "I would like you, even if Lily wasn't your mother."

Harry groaned as he flopped back against his chair. "Don't even say that, Remus. Isn't this mess bad enough?"

Remus chuckled lightly and patted Harry's hand a few times before pulling away. His face turned serious then and he said quietly, "Harry...I don't want you to think that James didn't love you. Even though he wasn't your father, he loved you very dearly."

Harry had to swallow past the large lump in his throat before he nodded. "I know. I...I saw him when he came out of Voldemort's wand...in the cemetery." Harry swallowed again, desperately trying not to cry. There was no reason to cry, he told himself. He hadn't lost anything, not really.

He knew James and his mum had loved him, even if James wasn't his dad. And, Harry certainly didn't need Snape; he had never really had any sort of parental figure, anyway...except maybe Sirius. At the thought of Sirius, Harry's eyes darkened. Damn Snape anyway. If Snape hadn't goaded Sirius ....

But Harry stopped that train of thought almost instantly. He knew that Sirius was reckless enough on his own; he hadn't needed any help from Snape in that department. If he were being honest with himself, Harry had to concede that the whole thing had been his fault. Sirius wouldn't have needed to act so rashly if Harry hadn't been so stupid. If only he'd practiced Occlumency, as Snape had told him to. Really, thought Harry with a wry twist of his lip, if he'd listened to Snape, Sirius wouldn't be dead.

Remus, noticing Harry's swift shift in mood said gently, "Harry, why don't we take a walk before dinner. Maybe visit with Hagrid?"

At that, Harry brightened, pushing his dark thoughts downward. "Sure," he agreed easily and stood up. He swung his long-forgotten bag over his shoulder and fell in step beside Remus. When they'd reached the door, he stopped abruptly and turned his head to look at his friend perplexedly. "Wait...what did Dumbledore say about Malfoy?"

Remus tilted his head in confusion and then his eyes shifted slightly to look over Harry's shoulder. His mouth thinned and his eyes narrowed. Harry turned quickly; his cheeks began to burn. Standing next to the open door to classroom office was Professor Snape himself, looking at Harry and Remus in surprise.

Snape's face quickly melted into a blank mask and Harry clenched his jaw. Before he could decide whether or not to open his mouth and tell Snape exactly what he thought of him, Remus stepped in front of Harry, just as he'd done in Dumbledore's office. The color in Harry's cheeks spread further toward his hairline. What sort of coward did Remus think he was?

Harry placed a hand on Remus' arm intending to move around him, but Remus' muscles tensed under his robes and he snapped out at Snape, "You stay away from him." Remus' voice was a threatening growl and Harry shuddered at the sound...an echo of the beast lurking inside the man.

Snape narrowed his eyes at Remus' tone. "Get out of my classroom, wolf!" he commanded, his face slipping easily into the familiar sneer.

"Hey!" Harry objected suddenly, stepping away from Remus, "don't talk to him like that!"

Snape's face shifted toward rage in an instant as he turned on Harry. "How dare you, Pot-" and then his voice faltered and the Potions Master seemed to deflate right in front of Harry's eyes. Harry had never seen Snape looking confused and he had to admit, it was not a good look for him.

Snape's rigid stance relaxed a measure and the man just stood there, staring at Harry in vivid concentration, as though he was searching for something. Harry tensed again under the scrutiny, but he didn't turn away. If Snape was looking for fear, or even regret, he wouldn't find it. Harry lifted his chin a bit in defiance and something seemed to break in the Professor; he turned away.

Disappointment washed through Harry again and he frowned, annoyed at himself for allowing himself to get so worked up about this--about Snape.

"Harry, let's just go." Remus said from behind Harry.

Harry paid little attention to his friend as he continued to stare at Snape. There seemed to be no way to salvage any of this, and with that thought, he blurted out, "You loved my mum." Harry realized it sounded like an accusation.

Snape whirled around, and Harry was not surprised to see Snape's sharp features twisted again in anger. He was however, frankly stunned when Snape answered calmly, "Yes," his face perfectly still save his lips as they formed the single word.

Harry, after a moment's silent contemplation, nodded and turned back toward the door, ready now to follow Remus. Snape, it seemed was capable of love. Bitter and angry though the man was, Snape was capable of more. With a twisted fist around his heart, Harry turned again to follow Remus, feeling utterly miserable.

The sound of a cork as it popped its way out of a flask had Harry turning again to see Snape pressing one of the small knives they used to slice Potions ingredients, into the palm of his hand. Harry watched curiously, in spite of himself, as Snape used his other hand to gently massage near the center of his palm. A small drop of blood coalesced and fell, into Dumbledore's blue-grey Potion. The Potion began to swirl.

Snape looked up then, and locking his gaze swiftly on Harry's, he picked up the flask and began moving purposefully toward Harry. Out of the corner of his eye, Harry saw Remus take a step toward him, but with a slight shake of his head, Remus stilled.

When the Potions Master reached Harry, he set the flask on a table and with one quick movement he jerked Harry's hand toward him. Snape turned the hand sharply so that the palm was facing him and in complete silence and with his eyes firmly focused on the task, Snape touched the tip of the knife to Harry's delicate skin. With a quick pressure and the sting of brief pain, Harry's skin broke.

Snape pulled Harry's hand downward, so that it was hovering over the flask. Just as he had done to his own palm, Snape squeezed lightly and a twin drop of blood oozed out from the tiny knick in Harry's palm. It fell into the Potion. The blood hit the surface and with a great violent hiss, the grey-blue Potion began to churn as the drop of blood seemed to grow larger, swirling red among the murk. Harry's drop of blood began to overtake the lighter hue until the entire flask was filled with deep crimson.

All three wizards watched, although Harry wasn't exactly sure what he was seeing. But, he did feel certain that Snape was trying to prove that he wasn't his father. And once the Potion had stilled, Harry looked up resentfully to find Snape turning his fixed gaze from the flask, back to him. But Snape didn't look triumphant...or angry. And Harry finally noticed, with surprise, that the Potions Master was still gripping his hand.

Harry didn't know how to classify the way Snape was staring at him now. After several tense minutes, he tugged slightly on his hand and Snape looked down at Harry's hand, as if he hadn't realized he'd been holding it either. Snape's mouth opened and then he immediately snapped it shut again. Harry tugged again and Snape immediately released him.

"What does it mean?" Harry finally asked in small voice, tapping the flask tentatively with his newly-freed fingers; Snape was still staring at him.

He answered stiffly, "The crimson color indicates a filial relationship." When Harry looked at him in confusion, he clarified brusquely, "It means that you are my son."

"Oh." Well, Harry certainly hadn't been expecting that. Shouldn't Snape have thrown something at him by now, instead of just staring at him, then? He couldn't figure out why the man sounded so calm. Remus, it seemed had the very same notion, as he was staring perplexedly at his colleague.

Snape noticed and snapped at the other man, "I believe I told you to leave, Lupin."

Harry noticed he didn't call his friend, 'wolf' that time.

Remus snapped out of his stupor with Snape's harsh observation. He bristled and said shortly, "We'll leave when Harry's ready."

Snape's face contorted at Remus' words though Harry didn't think it was in anger, not exactly. Instead of responding, Snape slipped his wand from his sleeve and Harry watched as he waved it in an angry arc. The revealing flask and its contents vanished. So there wouldn't be any evidence, Harry concluded as his gut wrenched painfully. He turned away as his eyes prickled and he asked quietly, "Can we go?"

Remus looked surprised but covered it quickly with a smile. "Of course, Harry." Remus looked back once more at Snape while Harry kept his eyes determinedly forward. He didn't need another demonstration to understand how Snape felt. It was fine with him, he insisted to himself as Remus placed a comforting hand on Harry's shoulder and the pair exited the Potions classroom, leaving the Potions Master staring after them.

xxxxx

Severus had no idea what he had done to make Harry leave so abruptly. He had been shocked to find Harry and Lupin in his classroom after he'd Flooed into his office. He'd only come out to retrieve the Potion he had known Albus would leave behind. Severus hadn't any idea that Harry would still be there; he had assumed the boy would have left immediately after Severus had gone.

He had forgotten himself completely when Harry had snapped at him. In that instant, the boy was Potter again, the impertinent brat he'd known for five years. It was only after Harry had stared at him, with his chin lifted in a defiant imitation of Lily, that Severus thought that maybe, perhaps Harry would give him a chance to explain.

He had wanted to talk to him, Severus realized wretchedly. He had even experienced the barest ghost of hope as he'd stood there watching the boy staring at him. And so Severus had picked up the Potion, deciding quickly to use it to demonstrate to the boy that he had accepted the truth of the Pensieve's memories. After all, even Potter should realize a Potions Master could not deny such evidence.

Severus had even been briefly pleased that Harry had seemed surprised by Severus' calm fortitude as he'd told they boy exactly what the crimson colouring meant. But then, Harry's face had turned cold, his tone frosty as he asked Lupin to leave with him. Severus' fist clenched around his wand as he remembered how the werewolf had put his arm around the boy to comfort him. Severus had once been the one to comfort a much younger Harry....

Severus had missed so many years, so many opportunities. And now, it seemed Harry didn't need him. Of course a sixteen-year old young man would not need him; apparently his first instincts had been correct. Severus berated himself for allowing his long held emotions to surface. He had even begun to feel a hint of residual warmth toward the boy, without having given himself permission to do so; it had been a mistake.

Severus stood in his dungeon classroom and carefully began to close his mind to the events of the past two days. He would put away every feeling, every trace of emotion he had indulged in. He would be able to see Potter in his Potions classroom twice a week without incident. He'd have to make a few adjustments of course. But Severus was used to changing his reactions to suit the necessary circumstances. He had after all, played the role of a double agent for Voldemort for years. This could not be much more difficult.

xxxxx

Hermione had sent Ron up to Dumbledore's office after twenty minutes of waiting anxiously outside Snape's classroom. They hadn't heard anything once the door had crashed shut and after ten minutes of tense silence, the bushy-haired girl had gripped Ron's arm painfully and demanded that he do something. Ron, equally concerned about his best mate, had agreed and the two of them tried a number of different spells to undue the Silencing Charms Hermione had guessed were tightly woven around the door. They had finally given up and Ron had gone in search of the Headmaster.

He'd found McGonagall instead, giving instructions to an irate Filch outside Dumbledore's office gargoyle. Ron had hastily interrupted the Deputy Headmistress, with a frantic, "It's Harry!" McGonagall had ordered Ron abruptly to lead the way, leaving Filch yelling indignantly behind them. Ron had explained everything, including Harry's plan to tell Snape as they hurried toward the dungeons. He didn't spare much thought to hoping that Harry wouldn't be angry once he found out Ron had spilled his secrets...if he found out. There was no way of telling what the evil bat would do once Harry told him the truth.

After Ron had explained, McGonagall had pursed her lips and quickened her steps, apparently coming to the same conclusion that he and Hermione had. Professor and student made it to Snape's classroom just as Harry and Lupin were coming through the door. McGonagall stopped abruptly and demanded sharply, "Mr. Potter, are you all right?"

Harry glanced up in surprise, "Erm...yes, ma'am," he nodded, not understanding why his Head of House would be asking him that.

McGonagall slid a cool glance toward Ron and Hermione, who both ducked their heads in embarrassment. "Mr. Weasley seemed to be under a different impression."

Harry stared at his friends. Ron's face heated and Harry guessed that he had told McGonagall everything. Harry sighed and offered to McGonagall, "Sorry." His Professor nodded curtly and then with an assessing gaze, she asked Remus to accompany her to her office. Once Harry nodded to assure his friend he was okay with Ron and Hermione, Remus left, though reluctantly, with McGonagall.

Ron muttered an apology but Harry quickly waved it away. What did it matter if one more person knew? Harry was certain Dumbledore would have told McGonagall eventually anyway. And, she was in the Order; Harry trusted her.

"What happened?" Hermione finally asked as they bypassed the enchanted staircase and went outside instead.

Harry shrugged. "He knows."

Harry knew his two friends were looking at one another and most probably having a silent conversation behind his back. Neither of them pressed him further for details though, for which Harry was grateful; he had no desire to talk about anything that had transpired in the dungeon today.

The three friends settled themselves on Harry's outspread cloak in the grass, with Harry positioning himself so that he was sitting across from Ron and Hermione who chose spots next to each other. Harry noticed with a small smile that they were sitting rather closer than they usually did and he wondered if it had been an unconcious choice.

They sat in silence until Harry spotted Ginny, just exiting the great castle. As soon as she saw the three of them sprawled on the lawn, she hurried over and dropped down beside Harry. Ginny's face was slightly flushed, and Harry's heart skipped a beat.

"Parvati told me Snape made you stay after class. Did you tell him?" Her excitement was almost catching, until Harry remembered just exactly what had happened after he'd told Snape. But he nodded anyway, averting his eyes to look over the Lake.

Even though Ginny didn't ask for details, Harry felt compelled to share anyway,

"Dumbledore made a Potion-"

"Filial Potion?" Hermione interrupted.

Harry nodded distractedly and continued, "Snape refused to use it. So I showed him the memories...he got really angry and left." He paused to watch some sort of scaly bird swooping down to break the still of the lake. "He came back after a bit and he and I both added a drop of our blood to the Potion and it turned red... Snape told me it meant that I'm his son," he concluded dejectedly.

His friends looked at him in confusion.

"But that means he accepted it, right?" Ginny asked tentatively.

Harry shook his head and his voice caught as he explained in a small voice, "I thought so...for a minute. But then he banished the flask and he looked so...well, he didn't look happy. Maybe determined, I guess, as if he was getting rid of the evidence."

Ginny and Ron were giving him sympathetic looks, though Hermione looked merely thoughtful and she said quickly, "Harry, he had to get rid of the evidence. If anyone found out, it would be disastrous for both of you."

Harry blinked a few times and then balled his fists in a sudden burst of temper. "You weren't there, Hermione. You didn't see him. He was so-so purposeful about it."

"Snape's purposeful about everything," Hermione told him reasonably.

Harry eyed his friend incredulously. "So, you're telling me, Snape doesn't mind that he's my father?"

Hermione looked uncomfortable and she squirmed slightly before replying, "Well, Harry...I didn't see the memories but it sounds as though he really loved your mother, and he must have--well, he must have loved you too," she finished in a rush, her cheeks flaming.

Harry stared at her. Hermione was watching him nervously until Harry began to look thoughtful. "He did say he loved her." He didn't think Ron could have looked more shocked if Harry had told him his sister was the newest Dark Lord. Ginny and Hermione were nodding at each other in satisfaction, which made Harry bite out, "So what though?" Both girls looked at him as though he was daft and he blew out a breath of annoyance.

Ginny smiled gently at him and asked very unexpectedly, "If Snape made some sort of effort to have a relationship, would you want to?"

Harry blinked in surprise but then tilted his head as he thought about the question, seriously thought about it. "Do I want Snape as a father?" he asked her, but Ginny shook her head.

"Not even that, Harry. If Snape stopped tormenting you...do you think you could even tolerate him?"

It seemed a simple enough concept and Harry found himself saying slowly, "He wasn't mean to me today...."

Ginny asked pointedly, "Has Snape ever not been nasty to you?"

Well that was easy enough to answer. "No," Harry told her without hesitation.

"And yet, he had just had perhaps the second most shocking news of his life." Ginny was smiling. Harry ran an hand through his hair as he considered that. She did make a good point. Still, though, how was Harry supposed to believe that he and Snape could somehow get past five years of animosity? He couldn't even fathom that Snape could possibly want to.

"I don't think it's that simple, Gin," he said, shaking his head.

Ginny laughed. "I didn't say it would be simple, Harry. It'll most likely be nearly impossible."

Harry rolled his eyes. "Great, Ginny. That's right comforting."

xxxxx

Harry spent most of the next two days in almost constant movement, in an effort by his friends to keep his mind occupied. He was trying extremely carefully not to dwell on Snape and whether or not the man had in fact been rejecting him; he changed his mind almost hourly. Harry's head became more and more muddled as the weekend wore on. That was probably how he and Ron came to the somewhat dubious conclusion that a pick-up game of Quidditch was in order.

They secured resounding approval from McGonagall, who had looked at Harry with such pity that he was pretty sure the dour Professor had only agreed because of Snape, but Harry was too excited to mind very much. It was with a much lighter heart that Harry, along with most of the upper level Gryffindors, made his way out onto the Pitch. Ron began as referee and after each team had hastily assembled themselves, Ron gave a loud shout and the Quaffle was released.

Harry, of course was acting as Seeker for his team and he grinned as he flew lazily about the Pitch, watching his friends. The games they had played at the Burrow this summer had been fun of course, but nothing like this. There was simply no better feeling, Harry decided as he kept a sharp eye out for the Snitch, while also trying to follow the game below him.

Harry cheered along with his teammates as the Quaffle sailed neatly through the goalpost. And, again as Ginny neatly glanced a charging Bludger off her club, changing its path toward one of the other team's Beaters. Then Harry was distracted as he caught sight of the Snitch, flying high above the goalposts. With practiced ease, Harry turned his broom slightly and sped toward the little gold ball. Seamus, the other Seeker, had noticed the Snitch as well and he was making his way toward it.

Harry concentrated completely on the task, keeping sharp track of the Snitch as he raced away from the goalposts, and toward the middle of the Pitch. Harry grinned as he changed directions with ease, racing ever faster as he tried to catch up with the Snitch. Harry and Seamus were flying almost exactly parallel, each pushing the other to nudge their brooms faster. Just as Harry had gained a slight lead, one of the Bludgers slammed into him and Harry was hurtled toward the ground. He heard the sickening crunching of bones and Ginny calling his name...funny he should recognize it, Harry thought pointlessly as he lost consciousness.

It seemed a long time later when Harry heard something that sounded vaguely like a Floo roaring quietly, followed almost immediately by what sounded like a whispered locking and silencing spell and Harry remembered that he had been brought to the Hospital wing but couldn't really remember why. He heard the slight scraping of a chair being pulled close to his bed followed again by silence. Harry probably would have felt at least mildly panicked at the intrusion had he not felt so groggy. As it was though, he couldn't work up the energy to open even one of his eyes...he was just too damn tired.

Harry drifted in and out of a somewhat semi-conscious sleep, forgetting that there was most likely someone sitting next to his bed. Remus, he had decided when he'd first heard the rustle of robes as the person settled in next to him...or maybe Dumbledore. It was during a slightly more lucid period some hours later, that Harry felt the feathered touch of a hand against his brow.

Warm, rough fingers lightly brushed his fringe away from his eyes and then one of the long fingers gently traced his lightening-bolt scar. Harry turned his head reflexively toward the hand, wanting to thank Remus for sitting with him. He inhaled the fragrant scent of clove lingering on the hand against his forehead and Harry smiled in contentment as he drifted back to sleep.

When Harry woke the next morning, the sun was streaming through the infirmary windows. He yawned and stretched carefully to avoid moving too much. Most of what had happened came back to him in a rush. He'd fallen from his broom and been Hovered by someone to the Hospital Wing, with dozens of broken bones. Madame Pomfrey had given him more Potions than he could count and then Harry had fallen into a fitful sleep, arousing many times during the course of the night.

He smiled at the hazy memories of last night, remembering that Remus had spent most of the night sitting next to him. It was actually a bit embarrassing, now that Harry was fully aware of his surroundings again. Secretly though, Harry was grateful for the way Remus had tried to soothe his restless sleep. Harry wrinkled his nose as the memory of Remus was joined by a somehow familiar smell. What had it been? A warm, almost spicy aroma....cinnamon or maybe cloves....Cloves!

With a dizzying jolt, Harry realized that it hadn't been Remus beside him at all and it came to him immediately why the scent had been so familiar. He had smelled the same scent on Snape's breath on Thursday, when Harry had finally shared the truth with the Potions Master.

It had been Snape? Snape had sat with him all night?

It couldn't have been Harry tried to tell himself firmly. The hand against his forehead had been too gentle...tender, even. And, he was certain the fearsome Potions Master would never sit with anyone all night long, let alone Harry Potter.

But as Harry sat, stunned, on the hospital bed, he knew it had been Snape watching over his sick bed. The calloused hand on his brow last night had been the same one that had grabbed Harry's chin in Dumbledore's office and it had been the same hand that had guided his bloodied palm over the flask of Filial Potion. It was even the same hand that had gripped Harry's, as together they witnessed the proof of their shared genetics.

Overwhelmed, Harry fell back against the white cushions and stared blankly at the ceiling.