"Here," Severus said, pressing a cup into Harry's hands. "Drink this."

"What is it?"

"Tea, Firewhiskey, a dash of Calming Potion. Not the most appetizing concoction, but it'll do."

Harry nodded, taking a couple sips before he set it on the bedside table. His hands were trembling, face as white as fresh parchment as his eyes met Severus's.

"It's true," he whispered. "Everything you said…"

"Yes."

"And all that stuff about James… they lied to me. Dumbledore, Remus, Sirius… they told me I was his son, they said…"

"They didn't know. Your mother made sure of it."

"So? They lied about everything else! Acting like he was this great hero, insisting that him and my mum were happy together? Maybe Dumbledore didn't know the truth, but Sirius did! Remus, too!"

"Take another sip."

Harry ignored Severus, scowling as he got up to pace the room.

"I hate him."

"Who?"

"James! He was a bully and a liar, treated my mum like rubbish, tricked her and used her, and…"

"Harry…"

"I HATE him!"

"Harry."

"What?!"

"Sit down."

To Severus's surprise, he obeyed, muttering under his breath as he dropped onto the mattress. He grabbed the cup, draining the contents before he slammed it back on the table.

Severus couldn't blame him for his anger. He'd felt it too many times himself, seething with resentment whenever he thought of Potter or his illustrious friends. But he also knew that hatred was poison, threatening to eat at one's soul until there was nothing left but bitterness. The idea of his son suffering that fate, forever haunted by a past he couldn't change…

"For all Potter's faults, and indeed there were many, he… cared for you."

"Yeah, because he thought I was his."

"No," Severus said. "Your mother told him the truth before the end."

"What? How do you know that?"

Reaching into the box, he retrieved another scroll. "This is her final letter," he said. "She wrote it on the day she died."

"What does it say?"

"Read it."

Severus poured himself a cup of tea, watching as a dozen emotions flitted across Harry's face. The anger gradually subsided, his features caught somewhere between bewilderment and sadness.

"So he didn't hate me… even when he knew?"

"No," Severus said quietly. "He didn't hate you."

Defending Potter wasn't easy. Severus had spent too many years holding him to blame, dwelling on all the suffering he'd caused. Not just Severus's own suffering, but Lily's and now Harry's, too. To imagine how things might've been different if he'd never interfered, if he hadn't tricked Lily into marrying him, if he hadn't…

"My mum says he was going to let us go. If they'd lived…"

"Yes."

"Do you think that's true?"

No, he didn't, though there was no reason to say so. What difference would it make at this late date, other than to feed Harry's resentment?

"I think we should listen to your mother," he said. "She knew who he was by then, far better than you or I ever will. If she believed it, perhaps we should trust her judgment."

"I guess you're right."

Harry still looked upset, though his shaking had subsided, his hand steady as he held out his cup for a refill.

"Thrice defied him."

"Pardon?"

"Born to those who have thrice defied him," Harry said. "If it wasn't James…"

Severus nodded. "I've wondered about that myself, though I suppose it could've been any number of things. I gave Lily information that could be used against the Dark Lord, which I'm sure she passed along to the Order. Beyond that, I was planning to leave his service, and I also killed a Death Eater in her defense."

"You did?"

"It was his life or hers. My choice was clear."

"Okay, but what about the prophecy itself? Why did you tell him?"

"I had no idea he would target her. If I'd known…"

"So it was fine as long as you thought it was strangers."

Sighing heavily, Severus forced himself to meet Harry's gaze. "I no longer wished to be a Death Eater," he said. "Naturally, I didn't want to die either, which put me in a difficult position."

"You thought he'd let you go if you gave him the prophecy?" Harry frowned.

"No, but I'd become overly cautious, afraid he'd discover my disloyalty. As such, I went to great lengths to prove my allegiance, however false that allegiance might've been. He wanted information, so I acquired it for him. I never stopped to consider the potential consequences."

"What happened when you found out?"

"Obviously, I was horrified. I asked him to spare her, did everything I could to direct his attention elsewhere."

"Neville?"

"Yes."

"He could've been killed."

"I was well aware of that," Severus said, "though it didn't matter. There wasn't a person alive I wouldn't have sacrificed in her place."

"Even a baby?"

"And what would you have done? Let someone you love die for the sake of a stranger?"

"I don't know. I've never had to…"

"No, you haven't, so do not presume to judge…"

"I'm not judging," Harry interrupted. "Just trying to understand."

Shaking his head, Severus added a dose of Calming Potion to his tea. He forced himself to take several sips, his breathing returning to normal as his muscles relaxed.

"Forgive me," he said. "It's… painful to speak of these things. That is no fault of yours."

"We can stop if you want."

"No. You deserve to know the truth."

"Okay…"

"As you know, Longbottom was never in real danger. The Dark Lord had already chosen his target – there was nothing I could do to sway him."

"Did you ever try to warn her?"

"Not directly. How could I? We hadn't spoken in months, and it wasn't as if I could just show up at Potter's house. I could've written her, I suppose, but my previous letters had gone unanswered. I had no idea if she'd even read them."

Harry nodded. "So what did you do?"

"I had no choice but to turn to Dumbledore, the one person who had sufficient power to intervene. I… we… perhaps it would be easier if I show you."

Easy? No, it wasn't easy at all. Begging on the hilltop at Dumbledore's feet, howling like a wounded animal in response to Lily's death? Severus felt naked, exposed, cringing at his own vulnerability as he dropped the memories into the Pensieve. But he did it anyway, feelings of shame overpowered by a desperate need to be understood.

"This must be between us! Swear it! I cannot bear… especially Potter's son…"

Potter's son? No. His own son? That was a different story.

"Go on," he said quietly. "Take a look."

"What about you?"

"I'll return shortly."

Severus left the room, stopping by the bathroom before he headed downstairs. Weasley and Granger were asleep on the couch, the clock informing him that it was just past 6 AM. Had he really been shut up with Harry for more than 9 hours? He shook his head, stifling a yawn as he returned to the bedroom.

Clearly, Harry was tired, too. His face was pale as he emerged from the Pensieve, his eyes underscored by dark circles.

"I… I don't know what to say."

"Yes, well, I'm sure it's a lot to take in."

Harry shook his head, staring at Severus like he'd never seen him before. "Dumbledore always said… that's why, isn't it? He always knew he could trust you, even when the rest of us were sure you were up to no good. He knew how you felt about my mum, how sorry you were…"

"How sorry I am. I'll never forgive myself for my part in her death."

"Just like me and Sirius."

"Black?" Severus frowned. "That wasn't your fault."

"If I'd tried harder to learn Occlumency, if I hadn't…"

"Many factors led to Black's death, up to and including his own recklessness. Much of that, indeed most of it, was beyond your control."

"Okay, then what about you?" Harry said. "Other than giving Voldemort the prophecy…"

"Don't use that name. It isn't safe."

"You gave it to him, but James was the one who made her take the Vow. What if he hadn't done that? If you'd known she was pregnant, when I was due…"

"I would've taken that bloody prophecy to my grave."

"Right, and you wouldn't have chosen Wormtail as a Secret Keeper either."

"Certainly not."

Harry nodded. "See, it wasn't just you."

"Perhaps not, but…"

"Giving him that prophecy was stupid, but you tried to make it right. You did everything you could to save her, didn't you?"

Severus shook his head. "It wasn't enough."

"Maybe not," Harry said, "but that isn't your fault."

"Your mother is dead because of me. If I hadn't…"

"She's dead because Voldemort killed her. I blame him, not you."

Severus didn't know how to respond, a lump forming in his throat as he stared at his son. Harry really did take after Lily, determined to see the best in people and offer his forgiveness.

"If you can do that for me," he said roughly, "why not do it for yourself? You didn't kill Black, nor did you ever intend to put him at risk. You couldn't have known…"

Harry winced, his features twisting like he was in pain.

"Perhaps it's best if we don't discuss it."

"No, it isn't that. My scar… hurts…"

He squeezed his eyes shut, pressing a palm to his forehead. Suddenly, he was somewhere else entirely, his expression shifting several times before it settled on a look of alarm.

"What is it? What did you see?"

"I… I don't…"

"Here," Severus said, handing him a fresh cup of tea. He drained it in several large gulps, followed by a long, shuddering breath.

"Ollivander."

"The wand maker? What about him?"

"It didn't work," Harry said slowly. "Even when he used someone else's wand, it still didn't work. He wants to know why, but Ollivander can't explain it. He's got him in some sort of basement, holding him captive…"

"Did you see anything else?"

"No."

"In that case, you should get some sleep."

"Sleep? How am I supposed to sleep when…"

"There's nothing we can do about it now," Severus interrupted. "Later, we have work to do, and I'll need you to be well rested. Your weariness is a vulnerability that neither of us can afford."

"What kind of work?"

"First, we must secure your mind. You know too many things that could get us both killed."

"Occlumency lessons?"

"Yes."

"Okay, but what if I can't do it? It didn't work too well the last time we tried."

"That was due to a lack of trust," Severus said, "not lack of ability. If I'd been more patient, less contentious…"

"Yeah, well, I didn't make it easy for you either."

"You had your reasons. In any case, it'll be different this time."

Everything was different now, though Severus couldn't begin to wrap his mind around what that meant. All he knew was that both of them were exhausted, overwhelmed by a lifetime's worth of revelations with more yet to come.

"You still haven't told me…"

"Whatever it is, I'll tell you tomorrow. Now get some sleep."

Harry didn't argue, stifling a yawn as he took off his glasses. He slumped back against the pillows, green eyes hazy and unfocused.

"Will you be here when I wake up?"

"Would you like me to be?"

"Yeah."

That single word caught Severus off guard, threatening to shatter his composure. He nodded, mumbling something that might've been "good night" as he hurried from the room.

"Is he breathing?"

"Of course he's breathing! This may come as a shock, Mr. Weasley, but I did not bring him up here to smother him in his sleep."

Harry cracked an eye open, spotting two figures in the doorway. Slowly, he sat up, frowning as he reached for his glasses.

"What's going on?"

"Forgive the intrusion," Snape said. "Your friend was on the brink of soiling himself."

Ron scowled, muttering under his breath before he turned his attention to Harry. "All right, mate?"

"I'm fine. Where's Hermione?"

"Downstairs talking to Tonks."

"Tonks is here?"

"Yeah," Ron said. "Remus, too."

"It seems your friends felt the need to call for reinforcements." Snape smirked. "Fortunately, Remus has already been informed of the situation."

"What situation? He won't tell us anything!"

"Harry is alive and well. That is all you need to know, at least for the time being."

"Harry?" Ron stared at Snape, aghast. "Why the hell would you call him that?"

"Mr. Weasley?"

"What?"

"Go back downstairs."

"But…"

"Go."

Meeting Ron's eyes, Harry flashed him a reassuring smile. It didn't seem to do much good, his expression full of anxiety as he backed out of the room.

"He can't help being worried."

"I'm aware of that," Snape said, shutting the door with a flick of his wand. "Nonetheless, we still have matters to discuss – it's best we do so in private."

"I thought you'd told me everything."

"Not yet."

"What else is there?"

"We have yet to speak about the war," Snape said. "Among other things, you need to know… are you hungry?"

"What?" Harry frowned, thrown by the abrupt change of subject.

"It's been quite some time since you've eaten."

"Oh, right. Yeah, I am hungry. Starving, actually."

"I thought so."

Snape opened the door, retrieving a tray from the hallway. Setting it on the bed next to Harry, he conjured a glass, filling it to the brim with pumpkin juice.

"Who made this?"

"I did."

Harry shook his head, staring down at the perfectly formed omelette. It was full of melted cheese, grilled vegetables, and chunks of bacon, his mouth exploding with flavor as he took a bite.

"I had no idea you could cook."

"I've lived alone for 20 years," Snape said, "at least during the summer months. One grows tired of beans and toast."

"What happened to your parents?"

He was afraid the question was too intrusive, though Snape didn't seem to mind. Perching himself on the edge of the bed, he summoned the teapot, filling it with water from the tip of his wand.

"My mother died from Dragon Pox," he said. "It was a bit of an epidemic back then."

"And your dad?"

"He took off and left me the house. I haven't heard from him since."

"You mean he's still alive?" Harry's eyes widened.

"To the best of my knowledge, though that's hardly relevant. I want nothing to do with him or vice versa."

"Why not?"

"Let's just say your Uncle Vernon would seem pleasant by comparison."

Harry winced, deciding it was best not to press any further. He finished the omelette, taking a sip of pumpkin juice as he studied Snape. Strange, but he looked different now. His hair wasn't quite as greasy, his features less harsh than Harry once thought. Of course, he couldn't be called handsome, at least by traditional standards. But he wasn't ugly either.

"Do you… do we have any other family?"

It was the first time he'd acknowledged Snape as his father. Snape noticed it, too, eyes widening slightly as they met his.

"My mother was the last of the Princes after her parents and brother died… her name only lives on through me and my descendents."

"Prince?"

"Yes."

The name was oddly familiar, tickling at Harry's mind though he couldn't quite place where he'd heard it before. After a moment, he shrugged it off, finishing the last of his pumpkin juice.

"What was she like?"

"My mother?" Snape said.

"Yeah."

"She was… complicated. Everything about her was a contradiction."

"What do you mean?"

"Deeply involved yet neglectful, highly intelligent but incapable of making sound judgments. She took great pride in our lineage, yet she turned her back on it. She wouldn't even accept her inheritance, choosing to live in poverty instead."

"Inheritance?"

"The Princes were an old pureblood family," Snape said. "As old as the Malfoys, the Longbottoms, the Blacks. Wealth in such families tends to accumulate over the centuries."

"When did your mum inherit…"

"About a year after my birth."

Harry frowned, remembering the childhood version of Snape he'd seen in the Pensieve. He'd looked anything but wealthy, unwashed and undernourished in his shabby, ill fitting clothes.

"I don't understand. If she had the money, why couldn't she…"

"Maybe she was punishing herself?" Snape said. "I'll never know. At any rate, I've never touched it either. All of it will pass to you upon my death."

"I don't care about that." Harry shrugged. "I've already got plenty of money."

"Ah, yes. The Potter fortune."

"Feels weird now. Like it's not really mine."

Snape shook his head, pouring himself a cup of tea. "Those assets belonged to Lily. As his wife, they would've passed to her the moment he died."

"Yeah, I guess you're right."

"In any case, it couldn't possibly belong to anyone else. The Potter line no longer exists."

"Except the name," Harry said. "Everyone thinks…"

"I know."

"What's gonna happen when they find out the truth?"

"They can't find out," Snape said. "Not anytime soon. If it got back to the Dark Lord, as it surely would if we so much as breathed of it outside this house, we'd have a disaster on our hands. My cover would be blown, my ability to protect you reduced to nothing. Hogwarts would fall to the Carrows, not to mention…"

"I get it," Harry interrupted, secretly relieved. He'd hardly even begun to process the fact that Snape was his father or what that meant, how his life would change moving forward. He didn't even know what his closest friends would think, afraid they'd treat him differently once they knew. The thought of facing the entire world…

"You're not ready."

"No," Harry said. "I'm not."

Snape nodded. "I'm not sure I am either."

"I still don't know how to feel about any of this, how I'm supposed to act, or…"

"You're not supposed to do anything," Snape said. "Believe me, I have no expectations. I only ask that you trust me, particularly when it comes to the war. My first, most immediate concern is keeping you safe. Everything else can wait."

"I do trust you," Harry said, surprised at how easy it was to say those words. Then again, maybe it wasn't so shocking. After everything he'd seen, he'd be an idiot to think Snape wasn't on his side.

"Yes, well…" Abruptly, Snape rose from the bed, striding over to the closet. He pulled out the Pensieve, keeping his face averted as he set it down on Harry's breakfast tray.

"More memories?"

"Just a few, though you'll need to prepare yourself. This won't be easy."

Harry nodded, swallowing hard. "Can you tell me what they're about?"

"Dumbledore," Snape said. "More specifically, Dumbledore's plans for you."

"Okay."

"If you'd like a bit of Calming Potion…"

"Just show me."

Snape looked dubious, withdrawing several strands and dropping them into the Pensieve. Without warning, Harry plunged forward, the bedroom dissolving only to be replaced by the Hogwarts grounds at twilight.

This memory had to be recent, judging by Dumbledore's blackened hand. He and Snape were arguing… well no, Snape was arguing. Dumbledore was as serene as ever, dismissing Snape's complaints like he was swatting away an irksome fly.

Strange how Harry's perspective had changed. If he'd overheard these things a year ago, he would've assumed Snape was up to no good, demanding more information so he could use it against Harry or even pass it along to Voldemort. Now? It was Dumbledore's words that seemed suspect, even cruel, trivializing Snape's understandable anger.

"After you have killed me, Severus…"

"You refuse to tell me everything, yet you expect that small service of me! You take a great deal for granted, Dumbledore! Perhaps I have changed my mind!"

He wasn't allowed to change his mind. Dumbledore made that clear, not offering so much as a word of apology for the awful thing he'd ordered him to do. It had always been that way, Harry realized, recalling another memory he'd seen the day before.

"He has her eyes, precisely her eyes. You remember the shape and color of Lily Evans's eyes, I am sure?"

"DON'T! Gone… dead…"

"Is this remorse, Severus?"

"I wish… I wish I were dead…"

"And what use would that be to anyone?"

No sympathy, not so much as a word of comfort. Dumbledore's tone had been icy, his expression unyielding as he'd stared at a grieving Snape. This time, it was anger instead of grief, though Dumbledore's strategy wasn't much different. Taunting Snape, implying that he couldn't be trusted? He was trying to provoke a response, just as he'd done all those years ago, looking for ways to use Snape's feelings to his own advantage.

"Come to my office tonight, Severus, at eleven, and you shall not complain that I have no confidence in you…"

Severus had braced himself for any number of reactions, from bewilderment to fear to fury at Dumbledore's betrayal. He was even prepared for outright denial, realizing Harry might accuse him of fabricating a memory with such painful implications.

What he hadn't expected was Harry's composure. His expression was stoic as he emerged from the Pensieve, hands steady as he accepted the cup of tea Severus offered. He took a couple sips, setting it on the bedside table.

"You have her Patronus."

"Yes."

"Hers was a doe, his was a stag. I always thought…"

"You thought that reflected their connection?"

"Yeah."

"It did," Severus said, "though not in the way you might've assumed."

"What do you mean?" Harry frowned.

"Roe deer do not mate for life. The males use the females, taking advantage of their vulnerability before they move on to other pursuits."

"Then why do I have a stag?" Harry stared at him, aghast. "I don't want to be like that!"

"Your Patronus symbolizes something different, I think."

"What?"

"I can't say for certain," Severus said, "though I think the connection comes from Lily, not your supposed father. A doe is also mother to the stag, a far more significant relationship than whomever she happens to mate with. Your Patronus could be a reflection of that bond, one you were robbed of much too soon."

"Yeah, I guess that makes sense."

Severus nodded, pouring them both another cup of tea.

"What was yours? I mean, before it changed."

"It's always been the doe."

"How do you explain that to people?" Harry asked.

"What people? Other than you, Dumbledore, and Lily herself, no one has ever seen it."

"Can I see it now?"

Severus stared at Harry, utterly bewildered. The boy had just found out he'd been set up to die, and he wanted to have an in-depth conversation about Patronuses? It didn't make any sense, though he couldn't bring himself to argue. If nothing else, this might be a coping mechanism, something Harry was using to distract himself as he struggled to process such terrible information.

"Expecto Patronum."

The doe sprung from the tip of his wand, racing around the room before she stopped next to Harry. She gazed up at him with those soft, ghostly eyes, making him smile as she nuzzled his hand.

"He was surprised."

"Pardon?"

"Dumbledore was surprised when he saw your Patronus," Harry said. "Why?"

"An underestimation on his part, I believe. It wouldn't be the first."

Harry nodded. "He underestimated me, too."

"How so?"

"He didn't think I'd go through with it if I knew ahead of time. Dying, I mean. He did everything he could to keep me in the dark, afraid I'd chicken out or run away, or… bloody hell, did he think I was an idiot?"

"An idiot? I'm sure he didn't…"

"Yeah," Harry said. "I'd have to be an idiot not to know that Voldemort would probably kill me. I've known that for years, and I'm still here. Why did he try so hard to hide…"

"I imagine it isn't easy to look someone in the eye and tell them they have to die."

"He had no problem making you do it."

"No," Severus said. "I suppose not."

"You were right, you know, saying he used you. He's used us both."

"It isn't that simple."

"Isn't it?" Harry said. "He lied to us, especially you. 'Raising me like a pig for slaughter?' That's not what you agreed to, is it?"

Severus shook his head, letting out a heavy sigh. "I understand your anger. Believe me, I feel it, too. But you must know, he wasn't trying to hurt you. I don't believe he ever had any malicious intent."

"He was still a liar."

"He was also in a difficult position, perhaps more difficult than yours or mine. He…"

"It's a Horcrux, isn't it? My scar, the connection between us…"

"Yes," Severus said.

"That's why I have to die."

"You're not going to die."

"I am," Harry said. "I have to. 'Neither can live while the other survives?' It all makes sense now. Once I destroy the other Horcruxes, I'll have to let him…"

"No."

"What else am I supposed to do? It's not like I can just get rid of the Horcrux inside me – if that was possible, wouldn't Dumbledore have figured it out? He knew more about magic than anyone!"

"Not Dark magic," Severus said. "My skill always exceeded his in that department."

"So why didn't he ask you for help?"

"Do you want the diplomatic answer or the truthful one?"

"Truth," Harry said.

"Part of it can be blamed on a lack of trust, though it's rather more nuanced than that. Dumbledore wasn't content unless he was pulling the strings – I don't think he could bear the thought of giving anyone else too much power."

Harry nodded. "He liked coming up with all the plans, too."

"Indeed, he did. He was none too pleased when I forced his hand with the poison, convinced that the Killing Curse was the only solution."

"But your idea was better," Harry said. "If you'd done it his way, everyone would think you were a traitor."

"Better or not, it wasn't his idea." Severus smirked. "If he'd lived, I doubt he would've ever forgiven me for that."

"What about the Horcrux? Do you know how to get it out?"

"Off the top of my head? No. I didn't even know it was a Horcrux until a few days ago. We still have time, however, and the Blacks happen to have an impressive library. We'll start there."

"So we're not going back to the other house?"

"I'd rather not risk it," Severus said. "In any case, this one will do just as well, as long as the three of you agree to stay put this time. Of course, the Order will have to relocate their headquarters, but I can manage that. We'll put a new charm on the house."

"Why can't they come here? If they're on our side…"

"As I said, I'm not taking any risks. The less people who are aware of your location, the better."

"So just you, me, Ron, Hermione…"

"Lupin."

"Why him?" Harry frowned.

"You have conflicted feelings toward him now. For that, I can't blame you. I also know he cares for you, however. I have no reason to believe he'd ever betray you."

"I thought you didn't like him."

"My feelings toward him are irrelevant."

Truthfully, Severus would've preferred not to include Lupin, though he had to be practical. He'd be starting his tenure as headmaster soon, unable to check in on Harry for days or even weeks at a time. Besides, the risks would be minimal. Even if Lupin was captured, Legilimency was far less effective on werewolves.

"What about Ron and Hermione? What am I supposed to tell them?"

"They know about the Horcruxes, yes?"

Harry nodded.

"Then there's no reason to conceal anything else."

"You don't mind?"

Severus did mind. He hated the thought of a dolt like Weasley knowing his private business, judging him for things he couldn't possibly understand. But secrecy wasn't a viable solution either, not when Harry's emotional well-being was in question. His life had changed radically in just a few short days – it wouldn't be healthy for him to keep all that to himself.

"All of this will be much simpler if they know the truth."

"Can I do it now, or…"

"Go ahead."

Harry headed for the door only to hesitate, glancing back over his shoulder. "Do you think you could…"

"Come with you?"

"Yeah."

Severus couldn't imagine anything more uncomfortable, though he didn't have it in him to refuse. He drained the last of his tea, taking a deep breath as he followed Harry downstairs.