Vater

Around 11:45 PM on the 30^th of July, three magical people sat on the floor of the smallest bedroom of Number 4, Privet Drive, discussing their plans for the next day.

"I still say we ought to go to the Burrow," said Ron Weasley, tall, freckled, red-haired and long nosed, "the wedding's in a few days."

"We'll reach there the day before the wedding, Ron," Hermione Granger said soothingly, her bushy brown hair tied up in a ponytail which looked rather cute.

"You two go ahead to the Burrow; I'll visit the orphanage and Godric's Hollow and then come for the wedding," said Harry Potter quietly, pale, thin and black-haired, with brilliant green eyes that had recently acquired a rather intimidating glow, as if he could see right though your head.

"No way. We're going with you - and if we have to convince you one more time that we want to be with you, I'll - I'll punch you!" Ron's face was beginning to take on the colour of his hair.

Harry smiled slightly; Hermione giggled.

"Let's visit the orphanage first, and if we find a lead there, we can follow it up until the day before the wedding, when we go to the Burrow. If we don't find anything, we go to the Burrow right away. We stay for the wedding and leave the next evening for Godric's Hollow. How's that, Harry?" she asked.

"All right," Harry gave in. his best friends beamed at him, "Ron and I ought to get our Apparating license as well."

"We're going for that tomorrow morning; I got your forms filled up and all. We'll get that out of the way before going to the orphanage," Hermione said calmly.

"Thanks, 'Mione!" the boys intoned.

They sat quietly for a few minutes before Hermione squealed loudly and flung herself at Harry.

"Happy Birthday, Harry!"

Harry gasped for breath while Ron snickered behind him. When Hermione finally let him go, Ron pulled him into an embrace.

"Happy Birthday, mate," he said gruffly, trying to sound like an important ministry official.

Harry laughed.

"Thanks!"

"Now wait here while we get your gifts," Hermione told him, and left with Ron.

Harry smiled and looked out of his window. He could make out several shapes flying towards him. He felt a pang as he remembered that there wouldn't be any from Sirius yet again...and that he had no Dumbledore to fall back upon, either.

Four owls swooped in. one was his own Hedwig, bringing him Mrs. Weasley's usual package, one was a school owl from Hagrid, the third was a shocking pink striped owl that could only be from Fred and George, Ron's older brothers. Harry looked at the fourth owl curiously. He had never seen a similar owl before. It was jet black with gold trimmings, and it had a gold chain around its neck with a time-turner shaped pendant. It looked regal and impatient, and held out its leg haughtily.

Ron and Hermione entered the room with their gifts in hand.

"That's a lovely owl," Hermione said, looking at the black one, "I wonder who sent you that?"

Ron, however, was staring at the bird in shock.

"Ron?" Harry asked tentatively.

"Blimey, Harry! That's a time-owl!" Ron exclaimed.

"What's a time owl?" Harry asked curiously as the bird hooted angrily and jerked its leg. Harry quickly untied the letter and offered it an owl treat, but it tossed its head and took flight.

"They're timed birds...you can send one now for it to reach someone after ten...twenty...fifty years," Ron replied, "and they're bloody expensive!"

"Who sent it to you, Harry?" Hermione asked curiously. Harry ran his thumb over the seal, which had an ornate 'P' on it. Could it be...?

"Harry...?"

Harry shook himself and opened the envelope. He quickly turned his eyes to the last page of the long letter. His heart stopped.

With all our love and affection,

James and Lily Potter.

He felt his friends' hands on his shoulders.

"Are you all right?" Ron asked concernedly.

Harry nodded, blinking furiously.

"Is it from your parents?" Hermione asked, her voice very soft and quiet.

Harry nodded again. This tie, he couldn't control his tears anymore. He wiped his face on his sleeve angrily.

Ron and Hermione moved away quietly. They relieved the other owls of their burden, fed them water and owl treats, and released them. Hedwig returned to her cage and fell asleep, while the other two flew away. Then they left the room silently. Harry barely noticed, but when he did, he was thankful that they had understood his need for solitude. He turned his eyes to the letter.

Dear Harry,

Happy Birthday, son!

Now that you're of age, Harry (which is rather difficult for us to imagine, as you sit cute and cuddly in front of us, barely seven months old), it is time for you to know something...something that we have kept hidden from you all these years (if we're alive, that is - if we're dead, then you wouldn't know anyway, for we are the only people who know the truth. Even Dumbledore and Sirius are unaware of this), and now that you're of age, you have the right to know everything. We love you very much, Harry - no matter what - regardless of whether we have been there for you all these years trying our best to be good parents or died at the hands of Voldemort (he's after you, and we'd much sooner die than let that evil maniac get near you!) - if we have been around, you'd know that we love you with all our hearts, and if we're dead, please believe that we do. We don't think either of us knew what love at first sight is until you were born...you were so tiny, and we fell in love with you as soon as you turned your dazzling green eyes at us for the first time...

Love you as we do, Harry, we've decided that you deserve to know the truth, whether you wish to share it with anyone or not is your choice. We hope you've found some good friends like we have. We are loath to tell you this, son, but keeping it from you would be unfair to you and to another as well. As you read this, he will also have received a similar letter, which will come to you if he's dead as well...

The truth is, Harry, that I, James, am not your natural father. [This sentence was in a different handwriting.]

Yes, Harry, my husband is not your father, and before you ask, no, I have not been unfaithful to him, nor am I in love with someone else, and your biological father did not rape me. He does not even know that you are his son. What happened was an accident, an accident that gave us the greatest gift of our life - you.

James possesses a rare, unremovable gene that would cause any child of his to die either at birth or a few months later. There is no cure for this. We found out when we lost our first child - she was still-born. The Healer told us that if we wanted a child, we would either have to adopt one, or get me artificially inseminated. We returned home, unable to decide what to do.

When we reached Godric's Hollow, however, we found the Dark Mark floating over the village. Several houses were on fire, and a number of Death Eaters were around. Both of us jumped into the fight and began to duel. James' opponent, Bellatrix Lestrange, threw an Infertility curse at him. He put up a shield and it reflected off, hitting the Death Eater I was duelling. A part of the curse hit me as well. My opponent and I somehow connected. I don't remember much - let James tell you that part.

[In James' hand-writing] Harry, you'll have to probably ask Dumbledore about whether this is possible or not, or whether there was something exceptional about that particular situation which caused this, for Lily and I can't come up with any theory. The Infertility Curse bounded off my shield and hit the Death Eater and your mother. There was a blinding flash of light and both of them collapsed. I ran to Lily, accidentally unmasking the unconscious Death Eater in my hurry to get to her, while Alice Longbottom took over Lestrange for me. The Aurors had started arriving by then, and the Death Eaters, realising that defeat was at hand, grabbed their fallen comrades and fled. I took Lily to St. Mungo's, where they informed me that she was perfectly fine and had just conceived. They even gave me the exact time, which coincided with her getting hit with that curse...you, my child, were conceived as the result of a reflected Infertility Curse. We were ecstatic. I wasn't too happy with the identity of your biological father, but I was delighted that I was going to have a child, for you are as much mine as Lily's, in heart, if not in body. Always remember that, Harry. I love you too much for you not to be my son. If Lily and I are dead, you might wish to acquaint yourself with your biological father...and even if we're alive, we won't deny you that right. You are of age now, and you are capable of taking your own decisions...I am a little afraid of your Godfather's reaction, though. He loves you as his own - almost as much as I love you, but if he learns who sired you...but then again, Sirius has always been unpredictable. He might love you twice as much after learning this. Don't worry if he sulks for some time; he will finally come around. He always does.

There was another reason why we chose to tell you when you're of age, Harry, and that's because if we're dead and you're living with Sirius, your natural father may take you from him out of sheer spite - the animosity between them is legendary. Even I was shocked when I realized why Lily had conceived; the image of the pale, unmasked Severus Snape being dragged away by Lucius Malfoy sprang to my mind. He was one of our arch-rivals at school. I'm not proud of the things the Marauders did to him, though. However, he hated us no less than we hated him. But he'd always had a soft spot for Lily, somehow, even though he called her 'Mudblood' on her face, he never actively harmed her, or let any of the other Slytherins do so. Even on that day as they duelled, Lily thought she was fighting a particularly incompetent Death Eater, and when I told her later who it was, she was shocked, for Severus Snape was one of the Duelling champions in the school, and he was certainly the most lethal one.

Yes, Harry, Severus Snape is your father. He is a Death Eater, but he has turned into a spy, as Dumbledore tells us. He was the one that brought him information about Voldemort being after you because of some prophecy. Sirius does not know about this, please make sure you tell him if and when you decide to confide in him. It might help him to understand things more. You can ask Dumbledore where to find Snape if you want.

Voldemort has tried to take you from us twice already...and Dumbledore thinks that we ought to go under the Fidelus. We will do it tomorrow, but we thought we might as well write this to you, for once we're bound by that Charm, we won't be able to send this (and the one to Snape). Ok, Lily wants the quill.

[Lily's hand-writing] Harry, please don't, for a moment, think that we are in any danger from Voldemort because of you. Voldemort was our enemy even before you were born - we had three major confrontations with him before you were conceived, and many, many fights with his Death Eaters. So regardless of your birth, he would want to kill us - please don't let anyone or anything convince you otherwise, ok?

Severus Snape is not really a bad man, Harry. I'm not saying that he'd be a stellar father or anything, but I want you to remember that he was not at fault where you were concerned. Perhaps you should go and meet him...we'll take you ourselves if we still live. But I somehow don't think we will be...Voldemort really hates us - and not just because of you.

Remember, my son, that we love you dearly...you're our life, our laughter. You are our son, James' and mine, and you will always be - regardless of Severus Snape's acceptance or rejection of you.

There is one more thing you ought to know...we charmed you at your birth to look like James, this charm will start wearing off when you come of age. It will be a very slow change, and you will look a little different when the charm finally terminates.

[James' hand-writing] If you've met Snape, Harry, rest assured about one thing; you have not inherited his overlarge nose! You have his high cheek-bones and his hair, which isn't greasy like his, but is still black (mine, is, too!) and straight. Yours was soft and silky, but straight, not messy like mine. You have Lily's colour (mercifully!) and her eyes and nose. You're going to be even better looking when the charm fades off...

We love you, Harry. And if we haven't had a chance to tell you how proud we are of you in person, let us do it in ink here. We're very proud of you, Harry. You will always remain the best and the dearest thing that ever happened to us.

With all our love and affection,

James and Lily Potter.

The letter fell from Harry's hand and landed on the floor. He had miraculously managed to read the entire letter without screaming or crying. Now that he had finished it, he felt numb.

Snape is my father...he thought...Snape...SNAPE! Dumbledore's murderer!

He suddenly felt very angry. He punched the wall as hard as he could. He didn't even wince when his knuckles burst and started bleeding; he was too angry and too shocked to care. He punched the wall again and again until he collapsed on his bed, utterly exhausted. As Ron and Hermione rushed in, having heard the noise, he watched his bleeding hand detachedly.

Dirty blood, he thought idly, let it flow...let it go away...purge me of the sins of my father...

"Harry! What the hell happened?" cried Ron, hurrying over to the bed.

"Oh dear!" Hermione gasped, noticing his bleeding knuckles. She quickly healed his hand and cleared away the blood. Harry did not notice. His world had gone black.

Ron had picked up the fallen letter, eyeing his unconscious friend solicitously.

"It must have had something to do with this..." he muttered. Hermione nodded, and both of them stared at each other for a long minute, pondering over the unasked question.

Should they read Harry's letter?