Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter

The Secret Father

May 2, 1998

"I regret it," said Voldemort coldly.

He turned away; there was no sadness in him, no remorse. It was time to leave this shack and take charge, with a wand that would now do his full bidding. He pointed it at the starry cage holding the snake, which drifted upward, off Snape, who fell sideways onto the floor, blood gushing from the wounds in his neck. Voldemort swept from the room without a backward glance and the great serpent floated after him in its huge protective sphere.

As Severus Snape felt the life seeping out of him, he had only one regret: that he had never been able to tell his son the truth. And now, he would never see the boy, never be able to tell him that he was proud of him, that he… loved him…

July 20, 1991

"You asked to see me, Headmaster?" Severus asked smoothly as he entered his mentor's office.

"Yes, Severus. There is a matter of some importance that I must discuss with you," the benevolent old man said, his eyes without their usual twinkle, "As you know, Harry Potter is to come to Hogwarts this year – "

"Yes, Headmaster, as you have constantly been reminding me," Severus said impatiently. He had been brewing Potions for the Hospital Wing before getting the Headmaster's message. He had left them in stasis, but was eager to get back to them.

The Headmaster looked uncomfortable. "Have a lemon drop, Severus," he offered.

Severus narrowed his eyes, knowing very well that the Muggle sweets were laced with a Calming Draught. He took one anyway. Dumbledore would never offer him one unless the matter at hand was serious.

Dumbledore cleared his throat. "Before young Harry's return to the wizarding world, I decided to check the Potter vault, to make sure that everything was in order. While there, I found a letter from Lily addressed to myself and a memory. It seems that Lily wanted me to know about something in case she died." Here he paused for a moment, as if trying to figure out how best to continue.

"What I saw in the memory shocked me greatly. It seems that James Potter was never Harry's father, though he did blood adopt him."

"What?" Severus asked, dumbfounded, "How's that possible? Lily would never stray."

"You're not curious about who the father is?" Dumbledore asked, surveying him over his half-moon spectacles.

Severus waited quietly; his tightened grip on the arms of his chairs was the only sign that he was agitated.

"You, Severus. You are Harry Potter's father."

Severus stood up so suddenly that the chair he was sitting in fell with a crash. "That's not possible, Dumbledore," he said through clenched teeth, "We, that is, Lily and I… you must be mistaken. The brat is Potter's son." His voice rose as he spoke and after pacing a few times around the office, he turned on his heel, out the door, slamming it behind him.

Dumbledore sighed and stood up, grabbing the letter and the vial of memories before making his way to the dungeons. Calming Draughts somehow never seemed to work on Severus. He'd have to feed him the whole bowl of lemon drops next time.

He found Severus feverishly brewing three potions at once. "Severus," he began gently.

"The letter must have been James Potter's idea of a joke, Headmaster. I do not wish to discuss it further," Severus said, continuing his work and avoiding Dumbledore's eye.

"It is Lily's writing, Severus. I would like you to read it yourself and view the memory. I have sent a house elf down with the Pensieve. I will be in my office if you wish to talk." With that he placed the letter and vial on Severus's desk before giving the Potions Master his privacy.

Severus stared at the innocent piece of parchment and vial as if they were about to attack him any moment. The writing did look like Lily's and he tried several revealing charms to make sure it was her who wrote it. Nothing came of them; it was her writing.

Get a hold of yourself, Severus, he told himself sternly, you're no coward. Bracing himself, he picked up the letter, and after taking a deep breath began to read.

An hour later, the parchment was stained with tears and the memories had been viewed six times, while the Potions Master was walking to the Headmaster's office, quickly applying a glamour charm to hide the redness of his eyes, on the way.

"She never told me," Severus muttered, half to himself, as he paced the office, "she told me she was leaving me because it was not working out between us, not because she was pregnant. When she married James Potter a month later, I thought she had left me for him. She had the child a perfect nine months after their wedding. I never would have suspected…"

"Lily always was good in charms," Dumbledore offered, "It must have been easy for her to delay the birth of her child."

"Yes," Severus said distractedly, "And Potter knew. He actually blood adopted my child. Why couldn't she have told me? It was my child!"

"It was for everyone's safety, Severus. You would have been killed if anybody found out your engagement to Lily and your child."

Severus sat in the chair, burying his face in his hands. "What am I to do now, Dumbledore? The boy thinks he is the son of James Potter – "

"And it's best that it remains that way," Dumbledore said, suddenly stern.

Severus looked up. "What?"

"He has lived with his Muggle relatives for the past ten years perfectly safe and will be coming to Hogwarts soon. Your position as a spy is too valuable. It will be better for everyone if he does not know the truth yet."

Severus said nothing. He had long ago sworn to take vengeance on the man who had killed Lily. To bring a child into his life as a double agent was mad. He had no idea how to raise a child. It was better to be a protector from a distance as he had promised Dumbledore. "I will say nothing to him, Dumbledore until the war is over."

May 2, 1998

Harry took off the invisibility cloak and looked down upon him, whose widening black eyes found Harry as he tried to speak.

A terrible rasping, gurgling noise issued from Snape's throat.

"Take...it...Take...it..."

Something more than blood was leaking from Snape. Silvery blue, neither gas nor liquid, it gushed from his mouth and his ears and his eyes, and Harry knew what it was, but did not know what to do-

A flask, conjured from thin air, was thrust into his shaking hand by Hermione. Harry lifted the silvery substance into it with his wand. When the flask was full to the brim, and Snape looked as though there was no blood left in him, his grip on Harry's robes slackened.

"Look...at...me..." he whispered.

The green eyes met the black, and Severus remembered back to the first time he had seen those eyes in the face of his son.

September 1, 1991

The gaggle of first years entered the Great Hall, looking around in wonder at the enchanted ceiling, but Severus had eyes for only one of them. He picked him out almost immediately, standing beside another Weasley, because Harry Potter was almost an exact copy of James Potter, from the messy black hair to the round glasses. He was looking down so Severus could not see the green eyes that Dumbledore boasted he had.

The sorting started and Severus waited, bored as the new batch of dunderheads were sorted. Vincent Crabbe was the first one to be sorted into his house, much to his disgust. Draco Malfoy followed in his father's footsteps to Slytherin.

At last, "Potter, Harry," Minerva called out.

Severus looked up and waited on tenterhooks as the Sorting Hat was placed upon the boy's head. He tapped his fingers impatiently on the table; the bloody Hat was taking too long. What would the boy be? A Slytherin like himself, or a Gryffindor like Lily?

At last the Hat cried out, "Gryffindor!" and Severus let out the breath he had been holding. A Gryffindor, he thought as he watched the boy walk to the cheering table. He was slightly disappointed, but it was better this way. He would have too many enemies in Slytherin.

Severus rolled his eyes at the Headmaster's 'speech' before dinner was served. He watched the boy closely. He seemed to be enjoying the Treacle Tart, a favorite of Lily's as well, he thought with an unconscious smile. Unfortunately, Quirrel chose that time to engage him in conversation. He tried tuning Quirrel out when he looked up only to meet the boy's eyes. They took his breath away; they were Lily's eyes, color and shape.

The boy suddenly clutched his forehead, as if in pain. Severus frowned, as he looked away. Was he hurt? He didn't look at the eyes again.

May 2, 1998

In his barely conscious mind, he could hear a voice, Harry's cries, "No, please don't leave, sir! Don't leave me! I have an anti-venom, which I brewed myself. Wake up so you can tell me that I added too many snake fangs! Please, sir!"

If Severus could smile, he would have. Harry had inherited his own and Lily's talent for Potions.

September 6, 1991

It was almost time for his first Potions class with his son, Gryffindors and Slytherins. He felt mild trepidation since he knew that he could not treat his son well in front of the Slytherins. He would have to be horrible. Harry would probably hate him afterwards.

He also had to admit to himself that he was nervous about Harry's skill in the subject. Did Harry inherit his parents' passion for the subject?

The class filed in and Severus did his usual speech, adding the dunderhead part for good measure. He could see a small smile forming on his son's face at the words, but the boy quickly schooled his features when he saw no one else was smiling.

After taking roll call, Severus decided that this would be a good time to gauge his son's interest in Potions, and to assuage the Slytherins in one go.

"Potter, what would you get if you added Powdered root of Asphodel to an Infusion of Wormwood?" There, it was in the first chapter of Magical Draughts and Potions.

The Granger girl's hand flew in the air.

"Er ," the boy said uncomfortably, "Is it… the Draught of Living Death sir?"

Severus raised an eyebrow. "Are you asking me or telling me, Mr. Potter?"

"Telling you, sir," he said quickly.

"Very well, Mr. Potter, where would you look if I asked you to find me a bezoar?" This one was trickier and one again, the foolish Granger girl raised her hand.

The boy looked down, fidgeting with his hands.

"Well, Mr. Potter, do you know it or not?" Severus asked impatiently.

"I… I think Malfoy does, sir. Why don't you ask him," the boy said quietly.

Severus turned to look at Draco who was snickering and gave him a warning look. He sobered immediately and Severus turned his attention back to his son.

"I think it's found in the stomach of a goat, sir," he said quickly before Severus could say anything.

Severus blinked as he realized what the boy had done. He had distracted Severus by bringing the attention to Malfoy and had asked the Granger girl the answer in the mean time. Very Slytherin.

"Let's try again, Mr. Potter. What is the difference between Monkshood and Wolfsbane?"

"Just the name, sir," the boy answered promptly this time.

"Correct. Well, why aren't you all writing this down? Surely you all don't know the answers. And a point will be taken for your cheek, Mr. Potter."

He gave them instructions for a simple Boil Cure Potion and walked around the room to monitor them, deliberately avoiding his son's cauldron. Only after sending Longbottom to the Hospital Wing did he whirl around to see Harry's potion. It was not excellent, but it was a good attempt for someone who had never brewed a Potion before. He briefly nodded before going on to the next cauldron.

When the bell rang, he called out, "Mr. Potter, please stay behind." He watched as the newest Weasley gave his son a pitying glance before leaving. Harry walked up to his desk and looked directly at him. Once again, he started at the intensity of the green gaze.

"Three points to Gryffindor for the questions you answered correctly, and five points for employing Slytherin tactics to answer the question about bezoars," he said briefly.

The boy blinked in shock, but soon the shock melted into a sheepish smile. "Thank you, sir," he said.

"Very well, Mr. Potter, you may leave now."

With a last grin, the boy left the room.

Hogwarts through the ages

Harry Potter's Potion making career truly began with a detention after his first flying lesson.

"Mr. Potter," Severus Snape said smoothly when the boy entered his classroom, "For tonight's detention you will write this line (he pointed to a piece of parchment which read I will not be a dunderheaded Gryffindor and give my teachers a heart attack) fifty times. And be quick about it because afterwards, you will be preparing Potion ingredients."

They were both silent as they worked; Severus grading papers and Harry carefully chopping ingredients. "Is this powder fine enough sir?" he would ask occasionally and Severus would nod.

After an hour had passed and the ingredients had been prepared, Severus had said, "Well, there is still an hour left until curfew. Perhaps you can brew the potion as well."

And so it went. "Dice, not chop, Mr. Potter. You have to be careful. Everything makes a difference in Potion making, something your friend Longbottom cannot seem to comprehend."

"Medium heat, use your wand. Lower, yes, do you understand why you had to reduce the flame when adding unicorn horn?"

Severus was patient with him, something which he could never be with the other brats he taught. But Harry was different. He seemed to actually be taking an interest in Potion making.

"Sir," he said nervously at the end, "Can I have detention with you next time as well?"

"Do you plan on getting more detention, Mr. Potter?"

Harry flushed. "Well, if I do, sir. It's just… I like making potions and it's sort of hard in class – "

Severus pondered. "If you wish, Mr. Potter, I will give you detention on a weekly basis where you will brew potions. However, no one must know that it is not a real detention." That would kill two billywigs with one hex; he would get to spend more time with his son while maintaining him image as a Potter-hater.

The boy broke into a huge smile. "That would be great, sir!"

The detentions took place weekly and by his third year, Harry had mastered most of the OWL potions. In fact, Severus maintained that his brewing was far better than the fifth years and even many of the sixth years. Severus had given him the Half-Blood Prince's book when he began to brew NEWT level potions in his fourth year.

By his sixth year, Harry had managed to win Slughorn's Felix Felicis after making a few modifications in addition to the one's the Half-Blood Prince had made.

May 28, 1998

Severus slowly opened his eyes, and then quickly closed them when greeted with the bright morning light.

"Dad?" came a quiet voice from his left.

He opened his eyes again and slowly turned to his left where a pair of green eyes in the face of a very tired looking, but smiling Harry Potter, greeted him.

"Harry?" he rasped, "You're alive. H – how?"

"It's a long story, Dad. But Voldemort is dead."

"And you're alive," was all he could say before slipping into unconsciousness once again.

A/N: Just an experiment. I plan to keep this short, about five chapters. It will not have too much detail other than thoughts and feelings. Parts of Harry's Hogwarts years will be mentioned in detail... others no. I just couldn't keep this out of my head so I decided to write it down. Please Review and tell me you enjoyed