Vater

Severus Snape was woken up from his slumber by a pecking sound at his window. In a flash, he was at the window, staring at the cause of his disturbance. After making sure that the owl was only what it appeared to be, he let it in.

A time owl...he thought curiously. I wonder who sent this to me.

The owl held out its foot and he detached the letter. The bird left immediately.

Snape fingered the ornate 'P' on the envelope. He knew very well whose crest that was. Why would Potter, of all people, send him a time-owl? The last time he'd seen the boy, he had been mad with rage and grief and hatred because of his betrayal.

And rightfully, too, said a voice inside his head. He shuddered, recalling how he'd killed his mentor. Forcing that line of thought out of his head, he tore open the letter. It was a long one, and his eyes automatically went to the last line.

Yours sincerely,

Lily Evans Potter.

He nearly dropped the letter in shock. Why would she write to him? He checked the date. February 15, 1981. Just before they went into hiding...

Really curious now, he sat down and started reading.

Severus,

It is only right that you should know the truth, though we have decided to keep it from you for seventeen years. It may come as a shock to you, but Harry is your son Severus. Yes, Harry Potter, my son, James' darling, is your flesh and blood. And no, I am not delusional.

Harry was conceived the night you and your colleagues attacked Godric's Hollow. Do you remember it? You and I were hit by a reflected Infertility Curse. Somehow, it caused me to conceive. I don't know how that happened; if you do, kindly explain it to Harry. He has received a similar letter simultaneously, and he, too has learnt the truth. We have advised him to ask Dumbledore about the incident. However, that particular accident has led to the birth of the dearest child I have ever known, and I do not regret it. James and I are very pleased to have Harry. He is such a sweet, loving child, even at this early age. He will grow up to be a great wizard some day, and by the sound of the prophecy Voldemort is crazy about, he will be even greater than the evil maniac.

Harry may need you, Severus. Please be there for him if you can, if James and I are dead. There is a chance that we might live, but it doesn't seem too likely, given the survival rate of people on Voldemort's hit list. And please do not vent your spleen on him. He is innocent of whatever James and his friends did to you. He was never a Marauder, and given the state of affairs right now, he will probably never grow up to be one. James and I will probably be dead, and Sirius will probably raise our son, but I doubt if he will manage to make Harry into a miniature version of James. By the way, we have altered Harry's appearance to make him look like James, but now that he is of age, it will start to wear off.

I request you to treat Harry civilly, regardless of your acceptance or rejection of him as your son. Do not judge him for the actions of James and his friends, and if you can't put that aside, at least stay away from my son. Don't even attempt to separate him from his Godfather - you wouldn't be able to anyway, for this is timed to reach when Harry's comes of age, by which time, he will be free to choose whom lives with.

For the sake of that early bond akin to friendship that we shared in our first year at Hogwarts, Severus, watch over my son, for he is not only mine, but your son, too. Perhaps I ask you for too much, but it is the plea of a mother to a father. Harry will need all the help he could get if Voldemort and his minions are still after him. And if you can't help him actively, at least refrain from harming him. He is your progeny. Yours.

Yours sincerely,

Lily Evans Potter.

The letter slipped from the shocked fingers of Severus Snape. Was this a cruel joke? Could it be? He absently performed an Authentication Spell at the letter. It was genuine. Harry Potter was his son. The boy he had hated all his life, the boy he had tormented since his first day at Hogwarts, the boy whose life he'd tried his utmost to make hell...that boy was his son. Why him, of all people? Why that brat? Potter couldn't be further for any child he'd ever imagine himself to sire. He didn't ever want to see the boy again. That arrogant, strutting, impolite brat!

Potter...Harry was his son. His flesh and blood. How dare James take away his son?

Dumbledore would know what to do. But Dumbledore was dead.

Thanks to you.

He ignored the voice in his head and read through the letter again. He could imagine Potter's shocked face at the revelation. The image brought a cruel smile to his lips. But his smile faded as another picture floated into his head. The sneering, hard face of his own father...

He wondered idly if Potter would still hate him. After all, he was the only family Potter had left, other than his Muggle relatives. His lips curled in distaste as he remembered the Muggles from the times when he'd broken into Harry's head during Occlumency lessons. He had enjoyed the humiliating scenes at that time, but now they filled him with fury. How dare they do that to my son?

Ah...going parental, are we? The voice in his head was smirking.

Snape was horrified. He hated the boy. He HATED him!

And he hates you, too. The voice carried on ruthlessly. But you're going soft.

"No!"

Yes, you are. But Harry hates you. You have given him every reason to do so. You have never been kind to him. You, who saw everything about the abuse he faced at his relatives' place, did nothing about it, even though you knew that he was too proud to tell anyone. You, who saw the scars on his hand caused by that cow Umbridge, did not inform anyone, knowing that he wouldn't go running to anyone. You enjoyed every moment of his torment, and you were the cause of a great part of it - almost as much as your Master. And then you murdered Dumbledore, the last and the greatest of his protectors, just when he had grown to love the Headmaster as his guardian, his mentor, his...father.

Snape couldn't think of anything to say to the annoying voice. "I hate him," he muttered weakly. "Potter is an arrogant brat and I will not change my opinion of him because he happens to share my blood. I did not choose to sire him anyway. It was an accident!"

You're confusing James with Harry. Have you ever tried to notice that Harry is different from him? You are just like your father. You deserve every bit of the hatred Harry harbours for you, which is at least equal to what he feels for the Dark Lord, if not more.

"Stop," he whispered. "Stop. Go away."

Why? So that you could run to your pathetic half-blood Master and gloat about the Chosen One being your bastard?

"GO AWAY! YOU WERE THE CAUSE OF HIS CONCEPTION IN THE FIRST PLACE! YOU WERE THE ONE THAT MADE ME GO SOFT ON LILY POTTER THAT DAY! IF YOU HADN'T BEEN THERE, I WOULD HAVE-"

- killed Lily Potter. Yes, I know. That is all that you're good for, anyway. Killing people.

A sudden pain in his arm prevented him from replying. The Dark Lord was summoning him. Severus Snape Occluded his mind firmly and Disapparated.