Thy Father Lies

“Harry…? What…?” The look of pain and confusion on Severus’s face tore at Harry’s heart even now, after everything.

“You lied to me.” Harry bit back a sob. The words of the poem rang in his head: Full fathom five thy father lies… “You lied to me about the Dark Lord. About the wizarding world. About everything. I trusted you and you lied to me!” Nothing of him that doth fade / But doth suffer a sea change…

Severus reeled back. “How did you—?”

“I told him,” Ginny spoke up then. “I caught him casting spells here at the house. Then I took Veritaserum so he knew I was speaking the truth. You’re Severus Snape, aren’t you? You told Harry You-Know-Who was ruling the wizarding world! You kept him from his own kind!”

Severus whirled on Ginny, face so livid with rage that Harry felt a flash of fear for her.

Then suddenly the black dog rushed between them and Severus. Standing up on its hind legs, its whole body seemed to morph and flow. Within five seconds, a man stood where the dog had been: a tall man with black hair, face hollow with ravaged good looks, dressed in wizard’s robes.

At the sight of the man, something seemed to click in Harry’s mind: an unheard bell, an unseen color, something slipping just out of his grasp. But before he could even begin to reach for it, the man snarled and lunged at Severus, hands clawing for his throat.

“YOU FILTHY DEATH EATER BASTARD!” he shouted. “YOU KIDNAPPED JAMES’S SON!”

“Sirius!” shouted Dumbledore, but Harry had already acted. Without any conscious thought, he whipped out his wand.

“Locomotor Mortis!” he shouted.

Sirius fell to the floor with a heavy thump, legs immobilized by the leg-locker curse. He writhed and craned around to gape at Harry. “Harry…you…”

“Don’t hurt Severus.” Harry’s breath came out in hard, angry gasps. “Don’t you dare fucking hurt him!”

Severus stepped around the helpless, astounded Sirius as though he was nothing, eyes still fixed on Harry. “Harry, you must tell me—”

Harry backed away. Severus froze, hands still outstretched. His flinch sent an answering pain through Harry, but he still would not come near. “I meant it,” he said, half-sobbing. “No more lies, Severus.”

“What has been going on here?” The other man accompanying Dumbledore knelt by Sirius, who was even now trying to crawl toward Severus, face twisted with loathing. “How…how did James’s son survive? How did he end up here in San Benito? With Severus Snape?”

“He kidnapped him!” Sirius pointed at Severus.

At this Severus flicked a cold, disdainful glance at the man on the floor. “How nice to see that Azkaban hasn’t changed you in the slightest, Black,” he sneered. “You’re still as big a fool as ever. I did not kidnap Harry. I made a vow to his mother that I would care for him.”

“Did you really?” To his mortification, Harry felt tears gather in his eyes. Furiously, he blinked them back. “Did you really, Severus? Or was that a lie too?”

“It was not a lie.” Severus turned back to Harry, his soul in his eyes. “I swear to you, Harry, that is the truth! Whatever else I’ve said—whatever else I’ve done—I loved your mother. I loved Lily. And for her sake I loved you too.”

Sirius let out a wordless, furious exclamation. His friend blinked. “You were in love with Lily, Severus?”

“Is that so hard to believe, Lupin?” Severus let out a noise between a snarl and a sob. “I know I was always Snivellus to you and your misbegotten friends, but I have a soul too, you know. I have a heart. And for Lily’s sake I loved Harry. I raised him as my own.” He turned a sudden vicious glare on Dumbledore. “This is all your fault,” he hissed. “Harry and I were just fine until you dragged him into your twisted little scheme!”

“This day was always going to come, Severus,” said Dumbledore heavily. “You couldn’t keep Harry a child forever, no matter how hard you tried.”

“He’s right, you know,” said Miguel to Severus. In his arms, Felicita purred.

“Don’t you start, Miguel,” snapped Severus.

Mike shook his head. “Wizards,” he said in tones of dry disgust. “Bunch of boneheaded emos, the lot of them.”

Fleur stamped her foot, a surprisingly loud sound. “Would someone please tell me what is happening!” she shouted, sparks flying again.

“I’d rather like to know that too,” said Lupin, looking up at Dumbledore.

Dumbledore sighed and pointed his wand at the trapped Sirius. “Sirius, if I release you, will you promise not to attack Severus again?”

Sirius glowered but said, “Fine. For now.”

“Finite Incantatem,” said Dumbledore. Sirius climbed to his feet, still glaring bloody murder at Severus.

“Let us all sit down.” Dumbledore summoned a few chairs from the dining room and the whole herd—Geoffrey, Ellen, Hermione, Ron, Bill, Fleur, Ginny, Harry, Severus, Mike, Miguel, Felicita, Sirius, Lupin and Dumbledore—all took seats with varying degrees of reluctance. Severus tried to sit next to Harry. Harry got up and changed seats, resolutely ignoring the flash of pain at Severus’s hurt expression. He did not want to sit anywhere near Severus, Dumbledore or Sirius. Any of the adults at all, really. He felt hollow, floating, like he’d just fallen off a cliff and hadn’t hit the ground yet.

He sat very close to Ginny on the sofa. Their hands met, unseen by anyone else, and clung tight.

“It’s okay,” she whispered. “It’ll be okay, Harry.”

Dumbledore let out a long sigh. He seemed suddenly very tired, frailty falling over him like chainmail. “Severus is right,” he said at last. “Much of this is my fault. But the events of fifteen years ago did not leave us with many good options.”

“What did happen fifteen years ago?” Harry demanded, voice hard with urgency. “What really happened with the Dark Lord?”

Severus spoke now, quiet but hard. “Lily gave her life to save you, Harry.” He spoke with his elbows braced on his knees, staring at the floor. “When the Dark Lord came to murder you and your family, she…she got between you and him. She gave her life for you. Her sacrifice…It gave you inviolable magical protection. A blood ward. It made the Dark Lord’s killing curse bounce off you and hit him instead.”

“So You-Know-Who is actually dead after all?” Bill sounded stunned.

“No, he’s definitely not dead.” Sirius spoke now, with a harsh, bitter laugh. “He was merely disembodied. I should know. His lapdog Wormtail kidnapped me a couple of weeks ago and used my blood to resurrect him.”

A ripple of fear and consternation ran through the room. “You-Know-Who is back?” Ron asked, looking very pale. “He could come kill us all?”

“He will not come here, not today,” said Dumbledore, his voice spreading like a calming draught. “This is Severus’s tale. Let him finish.”

Sirius snorted, leaning his chair back on two legs. “’Severus’s tale.’ Right. And I suppose Severus here went charging to Godric’s Hollow to rescue his secret ladylove?”

“That is exactly what I did, Black,” said Severus. “But I came too late. Lily was…already dead.”

“So…” Harry felt more than ever as though he was falling. “She never asked you to look after me? You never made that vow?”

“I made the vow!” Severus said fiercely. He looked up at Harry, eyes fiery with emotion. “I held Lily in my arms, and I vowed to her spirit I would care for you and protect you! Everything I have done—everything I have ever done—has been to keep that vow!”

“I still don’t believe you actually loved Lily, Snivellus,” Sirius snarled. “I remember what you used to call her at school. And you hated James.”

At this Severus reared back like a snake, glaring at Sirius. “James Potter,” he said in a quiet hiss, “took everything from me. The two of you made my life an absolute misery at school—”

“That was just kids’ stuff!” But Sirius was squirming guiltily and Lupin looked uncomfortable too.

“Seven years of humiliation and torment, Black.” Severus bit each word off. “Between the two of you, you completely destroyed any happiness I might have had with my peers, any joy at being part of the wizarding world. And then…” Severus’s voice slipped, caught again. “Then James took Lily. He took the only woman—the only person—I had ever loved. So tell me, Sirius Black: why shouldn’t I take Potter’s son? Why shouldn’t his family become mine? James Potter owed me.”

Harry felt as though he’d been punched in the gut. “Severus.” His voice sounded like it came from far away. “Severus, is…is that all I ever was to you? A—a way to get back at my dad?”

“No!” Severus turned back to Harry, expression urgent and pleading. “Maybe that was part of it at first, but I loved you, Harry! I love you still. I love you for Lily’s sake and for your own. Whatever has gone before, you are my son, in all the ways that matter.” He paused, panting slightly. “Please…please tell me you believe me.”

Harry’s throat was tight at the misery in his guardian’s voice. At his side, Ginny gave his hand a supportive squeeze.

“I…I believe you, Severus,” he whispered at last.

Across the room, Sirius gave a muffled exclamation, as though he wanted to protest this, but Lupin laid a hand on his knee and he subsided.

“This is, um, an amazing story,” Hermione ventured at last, “but how did you and Harry end up here in California, Mr. uh, Snape? And how did you come into it, Professor?” she asked Dumbledore.

“When I got to Godric’s Hollow that night,” Dumbledore said heavily, “it was to find James and Lily dead and their son missing. It took some searching, but I eventually located Severus where he was hiding with Harry. I told Severus that Harry needed to go to his aunt and uncle—”

“My aunt and uncle?” Harry felt like he’d gotten another punch. “I have an aunt and uncle?”

“Not any aunt and uncle you would want, I assure you,” Severus said, some of his old acerbic dryness returning. “It was worth adopting you just to stop you falling into their hands. Dumbledore wanted you go live with your mother’s sister so Lily’s blood ward would stay active and keep all danger away from you. But I thought of a way around that.”

“Indeed,” said Dumbledore mildly. “Petunia Dursley proved quite cooperative once she learned she would not actually have to take Harry into her home.”

“Petunia Dursley?” Harry blinked. “The lady who owns our house? She’s my aunt?”

“Yes,” said Dumbledore. “As long as you live in a house owned by one of your mother’s family, the blood ward remains in place—even if your aunt is on the other side of the world. I must say, it was a stroke of genius on Severus’s part.”

“A stroke of genius!” Sirius leapt to his feet, as though he just couldn’t keep still anymore. “Nothing changes the fact that Snape kidnapped Harry! And you helped him, Dumbledore!”

Ellen frowned at him. “Why do you care so much? Who are you, anyway?”

“This is Sirius Black, Dr. Granger,” said Dumbledore. Another ripple of consternation ran through the room, all the wizards pulling back in sudden alarm. “Calm down, please, everyone,” Dumbledore continued. “Black is not a danger to anyone in this room—” Harry and Severus exchanged skeptical glances. “—He really isn’t,” Dumbledore said in response to their unspoken question. “Until recently, he was in Azkaban, the wizards’ prison, accused of the crime of betraying Lily and James Potter to Voldemort and then murdering a fellow wizard and an entire street full of Muggles. However, these crimes were not committed by him, but by a wizard named Peter Pettigrew. Sirius escaped from Azkaban three years ago and has been living in hiding until a few weeks ago. It was then that Pettigrew—who had rejoined his master—kidnapped Sirius and used his blood in a spell to give Voldemort a new physical body. Sirius escaped and came to me with the entire story. I can vouch for him completely. He is a friend and ally.”

“I’m more than that,” Sirius snarled. “I was James’s best friend. I’m Harry’s godfather!”

“My…what?” Harry felt like he’d just been given yet another blow.

“Your godfather,” said Sirius with satisfaction. “Which is more than old Snivelly here can say.” He shot Severus a vicious look.

“And you think that gives you some sort of claim on Harry, do you?” Severus’s voice was quietly venomous. “A boy who doesn’t even know you? You weren’t the one who took the boy from Godric’s Hollow, Black. You didn’t feed him formula or change his diapers. You didn’t emigrate to another country to keep him safe. You didn’t send him to school or nurse him through the flu. You never sat through The Dark Crystal with him when he was seven years old because he loved that movie but was afraid to watch it alone. You didn’t buy him his first wand or teach him magic or train him in potions. No, you went haring off after Pettigrew like an idiot, like the arrogant, irresponsible hothead you always were, and got yourself locked up for your trouble. Not a lot of good to Harry in Azkaban, were you, Black?”

Slowly, Sirius turned on Severus, eyes dancing pits of rage. “That’s fighting talk,” he spat, “from one of Voldemort’s stooges. Death Eater.”

This time there was no ripple of horror. There was absolute, dead silence.

Dumbledore broke it first. “Severus may have been a Death Eater once, Sirius,” he said, “but he returned to our side when Voldemort threatened Lily Potter and her family. Since then, he has done much to fight against Voldemort. His help has been invaluable to me. I trust in him completely.”

“How has Mr. Snape helped you?” Fleur asked now, frowning at Dumbledore.

“Yeah,” said Miguel. “How?” His eyes narrowed at Dumbledore. “I’ve often wondered that, over the years.”

Slowly, Harry turned to stare at him. “You knew?” he said. “You and Mike knew?”

“Course we did,” Mike grunted. “Dumbledore asked us to help Severus out when he moved here with you.”

“But how…?”

“I’m a Squib,” Miguel said. He petted Felicita, who closed her eyes and purred under the luxurious treatment. “A non-magic child born into a wizarding family down in Mexico. That’s a major reason why I moved here to the States, actually: my family thought I was a total disgrace. Still do, as a matter of fact,” he added cheerfully. “A Squib and gay…But I’ve kept up my contacts in the magical world. Mike and I have been middlemen for Severus’s potions business.” He nodded at Severus, who nodded back. “Conducting business between the magic and non-magic worlds can be quite lucrative. And I’ve loved being friends with you two.” He smiled fondly at Harry and Severus.

“Does Maya know?” Harry wasn’t sure what answer he wanted to hear.

Mike shook his head. “Not at all. It’s safer for her this way.”

Meanwhile, Lupin’s mind was running in a different direction. “You betrayed Voldemort for Lily, Snape?” he said, sounding stunned. “And helped Dumbledore ever since? All for Lily?”

Severus let out a strange, shaking laugh. “Here on my knee I vow to God above,” he quoted:

“I’ll never pause again, never stand still,

Till either death hath closed these eyes of mine

Or fortune given me some measure of revenge.” 

“What?” Sirius blinked.

“It’s Shakespeare,” Harry found himself explaining. “One of the history plays, right, Severus?”

“Henry VI,” said Severus. “The Bard is a source of infinite inspiration. And the Dark Lord—” His lip curled. “—A source of infinite hatred. I have aided Dumbledore all these years to keep Harry safe and exact my vengeance on the wizard who murdered Lily.”

“Well, it didn’t work, did it?” Ron sounded slightly hysterical. “If he’s rebodied himself and is going to come after us all?”

“On the contrary,” said Dumbledore. “Severus has done more to destroy Voldemort than any wizard living. He and I have spent these last fifteen years tracking down his Horcruxes.”

“His what?” This time several people chorused it.

“Dumbledore!” Severus said warningly.

“It’s too late to hide it now, isn’t it, Severus?” Dumbledore shrugged. “Voldemort, before he attempted to kill the Potters, created several Horcruxes. That is to say, he split his own soul—”

“He what?” Ellen recoiled in horror.

“Wizards,” said Mike in tones of deep disgust.

“It is possible for a wizard to split his soul, Dr. Granger,” Dumbledore said. “Unfortunately. The act of murder breaks a soul apart, you see. The trick with Horcruxes is to place a piece of such a shattered soul into an outside object, there to remain safe and secure. Therefore, if the wizard’s body is killed, the wizard himself remains anchored to the living world. It is a means of cheating death.”

A horrified silence fell over everyone at this ghastly idea. Harry wondered in sick fascination how it felt to have a shattered soul. Did you feel less and less alive, even while you remained in the living world…?

Hermione cleared her throat, seeming to pull herself together. “How many Horcruxes do you think You-Know-Who made, Professor?”

“Six,” said Dumbledore. “The number seven is a magically significant number, you see, and so I think it highly probable he decided to split his soul into seven pieces for an extra magical edge. One to reside in his body, six in outside objects.”

“Cursed Dark objects?” Harry’s skin crawled. “The One Ring?”

Dumbledore’s bright blue eyes twinkled at him. “I doubt whether Voldemort is a fan of Tolkien, Harry.”

“No, but Harry is.” Severus sighed, sounding almost like his old self. “We’ve been calling the Horcrux here in San Benito ‘the One Ring.’”

“Here in San Benito!” Miguel exclaimed in alarm. “Where is it?”

Harry pointed up to Ron’s loft. “Up there.”

Silence, as everyone turned to stare up at the loft. Then turned to stare at Ron.

“What’re you looking at me for?” Ron jumped to his feet, face going red. “You think I would—?”

“No, Mr. Weasley,” said Dumbledore. He’d risen to his feet as well, taking out his wand. “Calm yourself. None of this is your fault. Such enchanted Dark artifacts can exert a powerful influence, a powerful fascination. But yes, you did remove one of Voldemort’s Horcruxes from Hogwarts, and it is currently in your possession.” He cocked his head at Ron. “You haven’t tried to tamper with it, have you? Played with it? Cast any spells?”

“Uh, no.” Ron shuffled, looking very guilty. “I was actually planning to, um, pawn it in Diagon Alley. When we got home. I wanted to buy Hermione something really nice for once,” he mumbled, shamefaced.

“Oh, Ron!” Hermione sounded torn between affection and exasperation.

Ginny, meanwhile, had gotten a very strange look on her face. “Ron,” she said, sounding blank with bewilderment, “I—I think I might have found this thing. In your stuff. But I can’t—I can’t remember—”

“That is also part of this Horcrux’s enchantments,” said Dumbledore. “Such artifacts do not wish for their custodians to think on them, you see. They wish to remain quiet and hidden—forgotten and gathering dust. If Harry hadn’t located the Horcrux in your possession, Ronald, you would no doubt have forgotten you even had it, or simply stopped thinking about it. You might have kept it stashed away in your personal possessions for years, without ever giving it a single thought.”

Ron looked a bit green at this prospect, and Harry felt a stab of pity for him.

“So how many are left?” Bill asked now. “How many Horcruxes?”

“Two, I believe, counting the one here in the house. We are very close to destroying them all. And so…” Dumbledore swept toward the ladder to the loft. “…I must remove this Horcrux back to Hogwarts and destroy it. Severus, if you will assist me…?”

Severus strode to join him, drawing his own wand. Harry held his breath. He didn’t know how he felt toward Severus right now—how he would ever feel—but he desperately did not want him hurt by this evil Horcrux. Harry drew his own wand, hovering near the ladder as the two older wizards ascended. Behind him, Bill and Fleur both drew their own wands, moving to stand in front of the Muggles and the teenage wizards.

Dead silence reigned in the living room while Dumbledore, with a few quiet spells, opened Ron’s trunk and summoned forth something that glimmered a bright silver. A few seconds later, Dumbledore carefully descended the ladder once more, something like a crown or tiara hovering in midair a few inches from the tip of his wand. Severus followed, grim-faced, his own wand pointing at the crown.

“Harry, step back,” he snapped, not taking his eyes off the Horcrux.

Harry took a slow step backward. He found he was oddly reluctant to do so. He couldn’t tear his gaze from the tiara. Everything about it—from the shine of its silver to the exquisitely crafted eagle motif—exerted a strange fascination. His scar was prickling under its makeup. Look away. It’s evil. This is part of its enchantment. Look away. His scar prickled harder.

“This is very well,” said Dumbledore once he and Severus had both reached the living room floor. “Now that we have the Horcrux, I suggest—”

Harry never heard what Dumbledore was about to suggest. The prickling in his scar suddenly flared into outright pain, and then a sheet of agony.

Harry fell to the floor screaming, clutching his scar. Vaguely he heard the others calling out in alarm, but it was like hearing them through a pane of glass. Much more clearly, he felt the presence of someone other: another mind, another personality, roaring into him. Harry felt a shock and surprise that wasn’t his own. Astonishment and growing rage that belonged to someone else.

“Harry?” It was Severus, Harry realized dimly, kneeling before him, face white with terror.

At the sight of him—the traitor, the spy—Harry felt another surge of white-hot rage. So Severus Snape was alive after all these years, was he? “You!” Harry snarled, and had the satisfaction of watching his traitorous servant recoil in surprise and horror. “You took the boy. You’ve been destroying my Horcruxes! You’ve betrayed me!”

Cries of fear rang out, but they didn’t matter. All of Harry’s attention, all his hatred, was fixed on the sallow-faced, frozen man before him. He tried clawing toward him but could not make his anguished body move.

“I will kill you!” he promised the scum. “You and the boy. I know where you are now, and I will kill you both—!”

At this Severus seemed to unfreeze. He lunged at Harry where he lay curled in agony, snarling and snapping, and hit him across the face. “Get out of Harry, you soulless bastard! Get out, get out, GET OUT!”

At the touch of Severus’s hand, the flaming agony flared so bright that the alien presence fled howling. Harry gasped at the sudden cessation of pain. He lay limp and exhausted, sweat running down his forehead, and tried to breathe.

“Harry?” Severus peered down at him in worry.

“Severus…” Harry coughed. To his relief, he felt no rage at the sight of Severus, no sense of him being a traitorous servant. The alien personality was gone, and Harry was himself again.

“Harry!” A rush of movement, and Ginny appeared at his side, eyes wide. “Are you okay? What just happened?”

“I…I don’t know…” Harry sat up, head spinning. He swayed and half-fell, caught only by Severus’s arm. He clung tight, grateful beyond measure for the support, for the strength of Severus’s embrace.

“Voldemort happened.” Dumbledore spoke now, heavy and grim. “Harry was just possessed by Voldemort. And now Voldemort knows where we are.”