Harry Potter

chapter 7

Severus Snape sat in his private quarters that evening, a glass of firewhiskey untouched on the table beside him. The events of the past week weighed heavily on his mind. His son-his son-had been right in front of him all this time, unknowingly living under a mountain of lies and manipulations. The list of potions and spells used on Harry had been shocking enough, but the revelation that Albus Dumbledore had orchestrated so much of this was the most damning.

How was he supposed to proceed? Telling Harry the truth could shatter the boy's fragile sense of self. Yet, keeping the secret felt like another betrayal in a life already filled with too many.

The next day, Harry sat at breakfast in the Great Hall with Draco and Hermione. He glanced toward the staff table, noticing Snape's usual rigid posture seemed more tense than ever. Harry leaned closer to his friends.

"Something's really off with Professor Snape," Harry murmured.

Draco shrugged. "He's always moody. What's new?"

"No," Hermione said, her brow furrowed in thought. "Harry's right. He's been acting...different. Distracted, even."

Harry nodded. "I went to check on him yesterday, but he just brushed me off. It's weird."

"Why do you care so much?" Draco asked, raising a brow.

Harry hesitated. He wasn't sure how to explain it, but Snape had become a figure he respected-admired, even. Their interactions had grown less hostile over the past few months, and Harry found himself seeking the Potions Master's approval.

"I don't know," Harry said finally. "I just do."

Snape, meanwhile, was pacing in his office. He had resolved to speak with Griphook again, ensuring every potion and spell affecting Harry was removed completely. Once that was done, he would tell Harry the truth. But how? How does one tell a boy who grew up believing himself an orphan that not only is his father alive but that it is him, Severus Snape?

He glanced at the clock. His next class with the Slytherins and Gryffindors would start soon. Snape pinched the bridge of his nose, willing himself to focus.

During class, Snape's mind wandered yet again, and Harry couldn't help but notice. The professor's instructions were vague, and when Harry finished his potion early, he lingered at his desk, pretending to review his notes.

After class, Harry approached Snape's desk hesitantly.

"Professor? Can I talk to you?"

Snape looked up, his dark eyes searching Harry's face. He hesitated before nodding. "Close the door, Potter."

Harry did as instructed, suddenly feeling nervous. "You've been really distracted lately, sir. I just...wanted to check on you."

Snape's gaze softened briefly before his usual stoic mask returned. "You're unusually perceptive, Harry." The use of Harry's first name wasn't lost on him, but he said nothing.

"Is it something I did?" Harry asked cautiously.

The question cut through Snape like a blade. He shook his head. "No, it isn't you." He paused, debating whether to say more. "Harry...if you discovered that something you believed your whole life was a lie, how would you handle it?"

Harry blinked, taken aback. "I...I don't know. I guess it depends on what it is."

Snape stared at him for a long moment, as if weighing whether to speak. Finally, he said, "You should go to lunch. This isn't the time for this discussion."

Harry frowned but nodded. "Alright, Professor. But...if you ever need to talk, I'm here."

As Harry left, Snape's chest tightened. He realized he couldn't delay much longer. Harry deserved the truth, no matter how painful it might be.

That evening, Snape sent Harry a note through a house-elf, summoning him to his quarters. When Harry arrived, he found the Potions Master seated by the fire, a pensive look on his face.

"Take a seat," Snape said, gesturing to the chair across from him.

Harry obeyed, his curiosity piqued.

"Harry," Snape began, his voice uncharacteristically gentle. "What I'm about to tell you will change everything you thought you knew about your life."

Harry's eyes widened. "What do you mean?"

Snape took a deep breath. "You are not who you think you are. Your name isn't Harry James Potter. It's Hadrian Lucius Snape."

The room fell into a stunned silence as Harry stared at Snape, his mind struggling to process the words.

"What...what are you talking about?" Harry stammered.

"I'm your father, Harry," Snape said, his voice heavy with emotion. "And I have the proof to show you."