Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

A Different Kind of Hero	By : JunjouSlashGirl Category: Harry Potter > Threesomes/Moresomes Views: 53263 -:- Recommendations : 2 -:- Currently Reading : 10
Disclaimer: Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, or any of the characters. All rights belong to J. K. Rowling. I do not earn any money with this story.

Chapter List
- 10
- 11
- 12
Chapter 11: Of the Past
HP
Harry lay quietly in the darkness of his shared room; only the darkness was not the least bit dark to him. He could still see every piece of furniture and even details such as the titles on some books which were lined on a small shelf above Ron's cot. He listened and waited, until the breathing of his two best friends were steady, then he climbed silently out of his own bed and as quickly and silently as only a vampire was able to, he changed back into his green clothes. Striding over to the door, he pushed it open and slipped out of the room like a shadow, making his way down to the fireplace in the living room.
The whole house was quiet by now, everyone except for him, was already fast asleep, or, as in Snape's case, still on a mission for Dumbledore or something, the man had left after dinner. Taking the old pot from the fireplace, he was just about to floo away, when a voice stopped him.
"Harry, where are you going?"
Turning around, he saw his two best friends standing there in their night clothing, a determined look on their faces that he knew all too well. They always wore this expression whenever he tried to go on an adventure alone, and Harry knew that he would not be able leave without them, unless he stunned them into unconsciousness.
Sighing, he tried anyway, "I have to do something," he explained quite lamely.
Ron raised both of his eyebrows, a gesture he only rarely used and only when he found an action of Harry's particularly stupid, which Harry had come to realize in their years of friendship.
"And you really believe that we would let you go all by yourself? Even I noticed that you have something planned, so just spit it," the redhead ordered.
Had he really been so obvious?
"Harry, you can tell us anything, you know that, don't you?" Hermione asked, worry in her voice and added, "Is it your scar? Did you have a vision after all?"
Harry flushed, as he remembered his vivid dream of Lucius from the previous night. For a moment he considered telling her that she had guessed right, but then shook his head. He could not lie so blatantly to them.
Something nudged his leg and a second later, Nagini wound herself around his body. She had obviously noticed as well, that he had planned to leave.
"I have nothing dangerous planned," he finally said.
"Then it won't be a problem if we accompany you," Ron stated.
"You would not appreciate what I am planning on doing," Harry replied.
"You cannot know that until you have told us what you want to do," Hermione stated, placing her hands on her hips and glaring at him, she was clearly hurt by his words.
Harry chewed on his bottom lip as he contemplated; he really didn't want to tell them just yet, not knowing if he could go through with his plan if he found out that they wouldn't want to be his friends afterwards, but he wanted to knock them out even less. And surely what he wanted even less was seeing the hurt in his friend’s eyes.
Hermione stepped forwards a few steps, laying a hand on his shoulders with a sigh and her eyes softened again. "I know something happened during your time at Privet Drive, something more than finding your mate; it has changed you, and regardless of knowing your secret or not, we are still your friends no matter what, and we still want to help you."
Harry didn't know if Hermione had chosen those words on purpose, but they did the trick; sighing, he slumped a bit in defeat. They were right, Ron and Hermione had always helped him, no matter what had happened to him and he at least owed them an explanation. "I am on my way to Dumbledore," he said.
His friends frowned; they had clearly expected something else, probably a hunt for Voldemort or something along those lines.
"What do you want from Dumbledore?" Hermione asked after a moment.
This was it. Now he would find out how strong their friendship really was. Glancing over to Ron and praying that they would not immediately take him to St Mungo's, he explained, "I plan to take over the Order."
"You want to do what?" Ron sputtered.
"I want to take over the Order," Harry repeated himself.
Frowning, his brainy friend inquired: "Why?"
Not able to stop himself, he smiled softly, he should have known that his friends would not turn on him instantly, "Because, I don't want to be a stupid puppet any longer. At the graveyard I realized that I have no chance against a Death Eater or Voldemort. I get the same education as you two, but everyone expects me to fight dark wizards. Would you feel ready for it?"
His friends shook their heads no, so he continued, "But there are more things. I found out that Dumbledore has been hiding many important facts from me, things I should have known, but which he had never told me. Did you know that there is a prophecy about me and Voldemort, and that I have all of these visions because of a piece of soul he has hidden inside my body?" His friends were shocked into silence, so he continued, "Besides, this war has been going on for far too long, and his methods aren't working. Maybe he will win and there will be peace until the old Pureblood families have gained enough power once again; but to repress one part of the wizarding population will always lead to a war. Both sides use people for their benefit, both with no real results or concern for their followers' well-being or lives. I think that there has been enough death already, I want to find a way to end the conflict permanently without actively fighting."
"Oh Harry..." Hermione sighed, pulling him into a hug he would have once considered bone crushing, but not anymore. Ron only eyed him thoughtfully.
"But are these all of your reasons?" Hermione asked, after she had let him go again.
Harry shook his head, smiling: "Well... mostly. It's just...The thought of becoming a murderer..." Harry could feel his anger at Dumbledore and his secrets rise once again. He clenched his fists. He tried to suppress the growl that was rising in his throat, but as he spoke again his voice came out strained and more like the growl of a wild beast. "All of this only because of some stupid prophecy!" His nails dug into his flesh as he clenched his fists even harder.
Ron and Hermione gasped, "A prophecy? You meant that literally?" Ron exclaimed suddenly.
"Yeah, and he believes in it far more than would be wise," Harry muttered darkly.
"Pieces of his soul? But that has to be very dangerous and dark magic! Who told you that?" Hermione asked, obviously shocked and only now taking in all information.
"Nagini told me that she hurts when in his presence, especially if he is experiencing intense emotions, because she has a piece of his soul inside of her. Her pains... they are similar to mine." Harry didn't need to say more, he saw the widening and realization in his friends' eyes.
"And there is no way that Dumbledore wouldn't have know this already," Ron said fiercely.
"Exactly," Harry agreed, relieved that they didn't ask who had told him about the prophecy.
"But he should know that a prophecy is never completely correct," Hermione frowned. She had always had problems imagining that teachers were not all knowing, and with Dumbledore it would be especially hard for her to believe.
"I think he has just fought Voldemort for so many years that he has grown paranoid," Harry thought out loud.
Ron coughed something that suspiciously sounded like Mad Eye under his breath before promising, "We will help you, but Harry, how do you plan on persuading him?"
A smirk stretched across Harry's face that would have shown off his long fangs in an impressive way if he hadn't been wearing glamours, "I will just tell him that he won't have a hero otherwise."
Ron cleared his throat: "That all sounds good, but man, you said you would want to find another way to defeat You-Know-Who... but how?"
Harry thought about it for a moment. He had been pondering now for quite some time over that answer. In fact, the solution to his problem had sprung to his mind the day after his transformation, but it needed some more fine-tuning. At his friends' expectant glances he said,
"I have an idea, but it needs some more planning. I plan on bribing Voldemort with his Horcruxes."
His friends flinched as always at the dark wizard's name, but after a shaky breath Hermione asked, "How?"
Smirking and feeling very much like a Slytherin, Harry explained, "With the piece inside his body, Tom has six Horcruxes left, which means that he will be mortal again after I have destroyed five of them."
Hermione's eyes widened in understanding, "So you plan on finding all six of them, but will only destroy five to use the last one to..."
"Blackmail him into a binding peace contract. Because he surely won't want to die after all of the effort he has gone through to become immortal, I believe it is his biggest fear."
"Well, that should do it," Hermione mused, and a broad and very sinister grin suddenly spread over her face. "That is brilliant, Harry," she added, and Ron nodded in agreement.
"That definitely sounds better than fighting the bastard personally in the end," the redhead scoffed.
"It does, and it leaves my own soul in one piece," Harry affirmed, glad that his friends didn't find his plan crazy and doomed to failure.
Smiling, Hermione laid a hand on his shoulder and promised, "Ron and I will help you to figure out the exact plan in the end, but first we have to go to Dumbledore, and then find those damned things."
Laughing, Harry hugged his bushy-haired friend; he was so happy that they were standing by his side. Ron grumbled shortly under his breath, but then joined in on their hug, patting him on his back in a manly manner of course.
After they had separated again, Hermione said, "Let us change into something more appropriate than our PJs, then we can all go together."
Nodding, Harry watched his friends going upstairs, a wide smile still on his lips.
They all knew how important Harry was as a symbol to the wizarding population to endure the war and defend themselves against the Dark Lord. It felt as if he was waiting for a small eternity, but the truth was that he had simply become used to Lucius and his own faster speed; so he leaned against the wall, stroking Nagini soothingly.
"Where are we going?" she hissed.
"Ron, Hermione, and I will be going to Hogwarts and visiting Dumbledore, but you had better stay here," Harry replied, not really explaining anything.
Nagini looked annoyed, but asked, "Isn't that the old fool of a headmaster?"
"Yes, he is," Harry chuckled.
"My old master always ranted about him, even more so than about you sometimes. I think it was because the old man has already annoyed him for many decades," Nagini hissed in amusement.
Harry remembered that Dumbledore had known Voldemort since the Dark Lord's school days, and that he had probably fought him from the very beginning.
Footsteps sounded, and Ron and Hermione appeared again, dressed and ready to leave.
"I will go first and check, if the floo is open to Hogwarts," Harry said and grabbed a handful of Floo powder before the others could protest. He knew that it could be a very harsh ride if the connection was closed and that he would be forced back to his starting point, but at least he as a vampire, would come out undamaged in that case. Throwing the powder he called out, "Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry."
°ºooº°°ºooº°°ºooº°°ºooº°°ºooº°
HP
He was tossed around like always, and then spat out on a cold, hard, and wooden floor. The room was dark, but he could make out many book shelves, a leather couch, and stone walls.
Behind him the fireplace flared again and Ron, quickly followed by Hermione, stepped out.
Ron cursed, probably not able to see anything.
"Harry, are you there?" Hermione asked quietly, just in case they had landed in a dangerous place.
"I am here, and I think we landed in Snape's office," Harry answered.
"Snape's office? Why do you say that?" Ron asked, sounding slightly afraid.
"Lumos," Hermione muttered, and his friends were able to at least see a bit of the place they had landed in.
"Mione! We are not allowed to do magic..." Ron started, but was cut short by the bushy haired girl:
"Outside of school grounds, but if Harry is right, we are currently at Hogwarts."
Ron scoffed but said nothing more, deciding to eye the room instead.
"Well, I think you were right Harry, but how were you able to see in the darkness?" he asked.
Harry cleared his throat, "My inheritance..."
Ron laughed, embarrassed.
"We should probably leave, I can't imagine that Snape's private quarters are unwarded," Hermione whispered and Harry quickly looked around for the door.
"The door is to our right," he said, grabbing his friends by their arms and tugging them along behind him.
Fortunately the door was not locked from the inside and they soon stood in the dark Hogwarts dungeons. They made their way silently, not speaking the whole way, upstairs to Dumbledore's office. The portraits eyed them curiously, some even asking them questions, but they ignored them. Harry found himself happy that he had allowed Ron and Hermione to accompany him, he always felt stronger and braver with back-up and support.
They finally stopped in front of the gargoyle, giving each other questioning looks, and just as they were about to start guessing candy passwords, the statue jumped to the side allowing them entrance.
"I have always had the feeling that Dumbledore has a way of knowing who is standing in front of his office," Harry muttered, but stepped onto the spiral staircase. His facial expression hardened as he knocked on the office door.
"Come in," Dumbledore sounded cheerful as ever, but the old wizard's face fell slightly as soon as he saw Harry's expression. Harry, Ron, and Hermione stepped inside, and Harry noticed Snape standing in front of Dumbledore's desk. The spy turned around, but he gave no sign of knowing why Harry had come by.
Dumbledore waved his wand, and three chairs appeared.
"I always expected that this day would come, but I never imagined that it would be this soon. Well I imagine that Voldemort's resurrection has sped things up," Dumbledore said by way of greeting, and for once his eyes didn't sparkle, and he didn't offer them lemon drops.
"Then you already know why I am here Dumbledore," Harry said, his voice emotionless, as they sat down.
"I do not know, but I might have some ideas, please enlighten me to avoid any misunderstandings," the headmaster said politely.
Harry gulped, looking into the old, kind wizard's blue eyes, a lump forming in his throat, making it hard to say what he wanted to, but he gathered his resolve and declared, "I want you to hand over the leadership of the Order, or you will find yourself without a hero. I am not willing to fight as a silly controlled puppet anymore."
Dumbledore's eyes had widened for a fraction of a second, he had clearly not expected that; maybe a ranting teenager, but not a determined Boy-Who-Lived with a plan.
"Please Harry, explain to me why you want to replace me as the head of the Order of the Phoenix," Dumbledore asked calmly.
Harry exchanged a look with his friends; they all knew the importance of the conversation.
"You never prepared me, you have kept so many things from me, and enough people have died already. Your way is not working and I am no longer willing to continue pretending it is. I know about the prophecy and the Horcruxes. Did you hope that I would win with just luck in the end?"
Dumbledore closed his eyes, pain visible on his old features for a moment. Harry's hands began to shake. He had thought that the old wizard would instantly deny everything, but this deep sorrow was not something you could feel without caring about his students and colleagues.
When Harry looked into his old face, that seemed so much older than he had ever seen before, he was reminded of all of the little things the man had done for him, the reasons he had grown to love him like a grandfather. The Invisibility Cloak, which had belonged to his father and which Dumbledore had given him for his first Christmas at Hogwarts, the little hints Dumbledore had dropped now and then to help and to guide him, his reassurance, and the fact that Harry had always been allowed to visit him, regardless of the time or the inconvenience. Still, his confusion, rage, sadness and disappointment battled inside of him, and he was not ready to give his fight up, so he decided to push in the knife just a little deeper. "My relatives are dead, killed on the same day as Kings Cross was attacked. I never liked them; in fact, I hate you for sending me to them after my parents died. They starved me, they locked me up, first in a cupboard and later in a small room, and sometimes I even got beaten. Tell me Dumbledore, where have you been, when they starved and beat me? Or when they threw me into that cupboard under the stairs for days? Have you ever tried to help me at any point?"
Harry felt tears gathering in his eyes; he didn't want it to end like this, he had loved the man, thinking of him as family, and despite everything he still did.
"Please, tell me that you helped me, so that I can forgive you someday! Please tell me that I didn't love a man for whom I am just a sacrificial pawn," his voice broke, and so did Dumbledore's calm, a single tear falling from the wizened man's eyes, as he drew in a shaky breath.
"I did help you, but I do not know if what I did will help me to earn your forgiveness. I will tell you, because you are right about everything. In wishing to protect you, I chose the wrong path, and endangered you even more in the end. If it is your wish to become the Order's head after I have told my story, I will grant it to you."
Harry nodded, and Ron and Hermione exchanged a telling look. Dumbledore really must have known that he had made a lot of mistakes regarding Harry, considering his willingness to speak. Maybe Harry was even doing him a favour by forcing him to finally speak. Snape had stepped behind Harry, a calming and reassuring presence, regardless of how odd it sounded to think about the man this way.
"After your parents had been killed and Hagrid saved you from the destroyed house, I brought you to your relatives, the Dursley’s, but there was not a single day when I did not secretly check in on you. As a baby, they treated you bad enough, without love and with just the necessary amount of care to keep you alive, but as soon as you were old enough, it grew worse and they started to force you to work like a house elf for them. You were only three years old when it started."
Harry drew in a shaky breath, startled to hear how much Dumbledore had known all of this time. It was like a knife being stabbed into his heart over and over again, but he forced himself to listen.
"Every day when your cousin went to the Kindergarten, you had to stay at home and work for your food, even though it was neither enough nor worth working for," Dumbledore's fingers shook, and he intertwined them tightly to hide it, but it did not escape Harry's notice.
"But back then, they were at least not violent; cruel and loveless, but not violent. That only started when you turned six. From then on, it grew worse with every year, until I could not stand the sight any longer... "
Harry's head snapped up, his green eyes meeting dull and lifeless blue ones, but a flicker of hope had returned to Harry's eyes. Dumbledore's last words had sounded as if he had tried to help him after all.
"...so, in the week before you turned eight, I decided to perform a ritual; it was the only time that I ever used Dark Magic."
Hermione gasped and even Snape hissed in surprise.
"What did the ritual do, headmaster?" Harry asked, his voice shaky, his hope had been joined by a bad feeling, neither of the two getting the upper hand in his confused heart. He was afraid that his whole life would change once again in a few moments, and until now, this feeling had never been wrong.
"You see, I wanted to save you from their abuse, but with the Dursley’s having your custodianship, I was not able to do much."
"Couldn't you just alter their memory? Obliviate them, or something like that?" Ron asked, speaking up for the first time.
"Of course I could have, but the Ministry had an eye on Harry as well, not as close as I, but close enough to notice such obvious interference," Dumbledore answered. "Instead, I searched for another way, and finally found a ritual that would help Harry. It was extremely dark, complicated, and powerful magic and I was ill for five days afterwards, drained of magic to the point of near death."
"I remember that time, you told me you had had an encounter with a group of Death Eaters," Snape interrupted Dumbledore.
Dumbledore nodded, "It is not surprising that you remember it, after all, you had to patch me up again afterwards," Dumbledore smiled softly.
"So, what did the ritual do?" Harry asked, growing impatient.
"It altered the memory of every wizard who had just so much as heard about you. That was the main reason why it drained my magic so thoroughly, you were already quite famous back then. After the ritual, every wizard and witch, and even your relatives, believed that you were already nearly eleven years old, making it possible for me to invite you to Hogwarts three years earlier and shortening the time period for the abuse you had to suffer."
Harry's head spun, he tried to grasp what Dumbledore wanted to tell him, but he couldn't think right now. It was once again all too much. Dumbledore had used Dark Magic to help him, even going so far as to risk his life. For him.
In the end, it was Hermione who pointed out the one thing that he had overlooked. "But that would mean that Harry just turned twelve!" she exclaimed.
Harry’s eyes widened in horror. Twelve? He was just barely twelve? He had been turned into a vampire at the age of twelve? If this was true, then it was no wonder that he was still so small and that his body had never developed the first signs of puberty, or that he sometimes felt overwhelmed in some classes.
Another thought hit him, what would Lucius say if he found out that he was mated to a child? That he had fucked a child? The only thing he could consider lucky was that he had at least not been turned two weeks earlier, whilst he was still eleven. But that was not much of a comfort.
Next to him Snape staggered, the man looking even paler than usual. Ron stared at him in utter shock, his eyes roaming Harry's body, as if he wanted to find out if Dumbledore had really told the truth or not.
"You are right Miss Granger," Dumbledore said, confirming her assumption.
"Oh Merlin!" Harry gasped.
Dumbledore nodded sadly: "It was not an easy decision, and I hesitated for many weeks, but in the end, I could not find any other solution, and I definitely could not let you stay at your relatives' house much longer."
"But… why did you send me back every summer, even though you broke many laws and risked your own life to get me out of there in the first place?" Harry asked, trying to decide if Dumbledore's actions made any sense at all, his story just sounded so...crazy.
"Ah...my boy, you still needed the protection of the blood wards. You already know that Voldemort cannot touch you because of the immense love you carry inside, but this love is not only your own; it is a fusion of the love you are able to feel and to give and the love of your mother. Without the renewal of the wards every year, the power from your mother might have weakened, leaving you without an important protection."
"My mother's love could have weakened? But why? Do ghosts and souls forget their loved ones over time?" Harry asked, trying not to start crying again. The thought of his mother's protective love had always been important to him, especially when he had to return to the Dursley’s where no one loved or even cared for him.
Dumbledore sighed, but smiled gently. "No Harry, they do not forget. We wizards know that there is in fact a life after death, but the dead cannot interfere in this world, you can see it every day when you take the time and watch Hogwarts' ghosts. The blood wards didn't only ward your relative's house against Voldemort; that could have been done at Hogwarts or Grimmauld Place as well, but they are also a connection to the other side, allowing your mother to channel her powers into you, even though she has long since passed on and you remain here."
Harry gulped; he had never imagined that he could have an actual connection to his late mother. Tears welled in the corner of his eyes, but he wiped them away, determined to not cry about such a beautiful thing.
"There is another secret I have kept," Dumbledore mumbled suddenly, successfully distracting Harry for the moment.
"It was never mine to tell and it does not only concern you Harry, which is the reason I never told you, but after tonight there will be no more secrets between us. Because, regardless of the impression I have left in the last few weeks or months, I consider you more like a grandchild than a student, and I hope by telling you everything, you will give me a second chance."
"I...You have always been important to me as well," Harry mumbled, touched by the headmaster's confession but not wanting to promise anything just yet. He would need to think about his relationship with Dumbledore at a later date when he had heard everything and calmed down a little. After all, the man had heavily interfered in his life, even though his intentions had been good.
"Severus, please sit down as well, the story I am about to tell concerns you as much as Harry," Dumbledore instructed softly, and something in the old wizards gaze and voice made the Potions Master sit down next to Harry, on a quickly conjured chair.
Harry frowned, but said nothing. What kind of secret was connected to him and his greasy Potions Master? Surely it couldn't be the fact that the professor and his mother had been friends, because Snape knew that already, obviously, and Dumbledore had said that the man didn't know the secret either. Besides, it was more connected to his mother and Snape than to him and the man.
"Severus, do you remember the night in your seventh year shortly before your friendship with Lily ended and she started her relationship with James?" Dumbledore asked pointedly.
Harry frowned even more; what did this story have to do with anything? Back then, he hadn't even been born. He was about to ask, when Severus snapped next to him, "That is not your story to tell Albus, and I forbid you from telling the boy anything!"
Shocked by the anger in the man's voice, Harry's head spun around, there was rage blazing in the black orbs, but also hidden pain. Only a week ago, Harry would not have noticed the sorrow in those eyes, but as a vampire his senses had sharpened and he had become more observant. Also, having come to know the man might be helping him.
"I will not tell the story, but I believe that you will tell Harry everything after I am finished with what I have to say," Dumbledore said, and then continued calmly, giving the man no chance to protest again. "Some weeks after your fall out with Lily, she noticed something, and that was the reason why she started to date James Potter."
Severus by now looked as confused as Harry felt and was frowning even more deeply.
"She married him quickly after graduation, and you, Harry, were born shortly after," Dumbledore told them.
"Headmaster, we already knew that, what is the point of this?" Snape snapped.
"It will all make sense to you in a moment," Dumbledore smiled sadly. "The Potter family had hidden a secret for over two hundred years. They were, in fact, not entirely Pureblooded, or more accurately the main branch is, but there is also a muggle side branch, sired from a squib Potter daughter that married a muggle. His name was Peter Evans."
"What are you implying...?" Harry broke off and his eyes widened in shocked realization. He desperately hoped that Dumbledore would not confirm his suspicion.
"Does this mean that my parents were related?" he asked; his voice and hands shaking once more.
Dumbledore gave him a long stare, but didn't react in any way that would clear up Harry's question, instead he neutrally replied, "They were cousins and they married to protect two people who were very important to Lily."
Harry felt bile rising in his stomach, but he forced himself to listen when the headmaster spoke again. "Severus, did you know that there is a magical ritual which will ensure that a baby will only develop the features of one of their parents?"
Harry nearly flinched in surprise when Snape jumped to his feet. The man stared at him horror struck, his eyes wide, his face a worrisome gray, and his breath ragged.
"No!" Snape exclaimed, staggering.
"I don't understand?" Harry looked from his Potions Professor to Dumbledore and then to Hermione. Snape was obviously in too much shock to explain anything to him, and Dumbledore had already promised that he would not tell Snape's story, which Harry apparently needed to hear to understand what Dumbledore was trying to reveal, and Hermione for once looked just as confused as he felt.
He had the feeling that he was missing something very important, and in a sudden rush of panic he gripped his teacher by one of his wrists, "What does he mean?"
Harry felt the man shiver and take a deep breath, before he pulled his chair around so that it was facing Harry's, and sat down. Snape was watching him intently, as if searching for something in his face, an unreadable expression on his own face. Harry wanted to evade his piercing eyes, but somehow he knew that he had to hold this gaze, that it was important to the man across from him.
When Snape finally started to speak, his voice was hoarse and echoed with a thousand emotions Harry could not even start to name, "I already told you, that your mum and I had been best friends since our childhood, and that James and his friends always harassed me in school, but also that it never disturbed our friendship. So... during our seventh year, it developed into something more."
Harry's dead heart started to race painfully in his chest, he had no idea what Snape wanted to tell him but he knew that it would be an even greater shock than finding out that he had been turned into a blood loving vampire.
"Towards the end of our final year, we spent a passionate night together; only one single night because the day after our friendship, or whatever it had become at that point, broke."
Snape had lowered his gaze, eyeing his shaking fingers. Harry was glad about that, because he didn't know if he could look the man in the eyes at this point.
"James's prank had gone too far that day, but Lily didn't defend me in the way I had hoped for, especially after our night together. She scolded James, but nothing more, and that lead to me calling her a Mudblood and joining the Dark Lord in an outburst of silly and foolish rage, and when she started dating James only six weeks later, I considered my hasty decision affirmed..."
The dark wizard broke off again, and lifted his head so that Harry was once again starring into Snape's black eyes, which were normally so cold and emotionless and now swirled with confusion and unspoken emotions. He gulped, when he saw his professor moistening his lips with his tongue, before opening them to speak again.
"I never realized that you were born nine month after our night together, and I never realized that you could not be fifteen, as Lily gave birth to you when eighteen and I am, as she would be, thirty years old and not thirty-three."
Harry's head started to spin and his vision blurred for a second. He grabbed for something to keep himself from falling off of his chair, and a firm hand steadied him. In his mind swirled the information he had just received, coming together to form a picture that was just too absurd to be true. It was too horrible to be true, because if it was, it meant that half of his life had been a lie, and even worse, half of his identity was as well.
The room was deadly silent, and Harry had long forgotten that his two best friends were still there. He realized that the hand steadying him was Snape's, and he quickly pulled away, too confused to be able to stand the touch.
"Are you trying to tell me, you were in a relationship with my mother, and that I am in fact your son and not James Potter's, Professor?" Harry asked, his voice barely audible, adding the man's title to put some distance between them, like a protective shield.
"You don't want to tell me that my mother married her cousin, to...to what? Protect me? And that they performed an ancient ritual so that I would only inherit physical characteristics from her side, making me resemble James Potter?"
To his horror Snape nodded.
"Why?" Harry asked; desperation clearly in his voice. Everything he had been told was a lie. He was not James Potter's son, his appearance was the result of a magical ritual, and his real father could only stand to use his first name if it helped to anger his school nemesis.
That brought another shock to him, how would Sirius react when he found out? Would he still want to be his godfather? Sirius had always been so proud of him being his godson because he was his late best friend's son, but had always hated his real father.
Could he even imagine Snape as a father? As his father?
"Why?" he repeated, and this time it was Dumbledore who answered.
"Lily had always believed that Severus was not an evil man and that his decision to join the Death Eaters had been a decision made in anger. She was sure that he would regret it soon, but she also knew that there was no backing out after you had become one of Voldemort's men. So when she found out about her pregnancy, she searched for a way to protect her unborn child and the man she still loved, deciding to do a ritual which would make sure that you Harry, would not be identifiable as Severus’ son. That way, Voldemort would not be able to connect his new follower to her, a Mudblood and a dear student of mine, the figurehead of the Light Side." Dumbledore paused before continuing.
"I myself found out about this whole plan only because she performed the ritual here at Hogwarts, and the magic gathering in the Room of Requirement was so strong that I noticed it and searched out both her and James. James had wanted to protect his favourite cousin and her son, and had even given a drop of his own blood to make the resemblance to him even greater, and offered to marry Lily so that her tale would be authentic and to prevent her from losing her reputation by becoming an unmarried mother.
Only James's parents were informed of their plan, because they were the heads of the family, and they agreed to keep the identity of your real father a secret," Dumbledore said, once again looking at Harry.
Harry laughed uncertainly. This really couldn't be true, could it? This story was just too farfetched, even for him.
"No one outside of the family knew about Lily and James' relationship, and no one wondered about their marriage; it is after all common to marry fairly young in the wizarding world. I myself wrote and registered the documents in the Ministry, and collected this..." Dumbledore opened a drawer in his desk and pulled out a document, laying it in front of Harry and Snape.
Harry bent forwards to read it, carefully keeping a safe distance from Snape, who did the same.
Harry read,
Child: Harry Severus James Potter,

Mother: Lily Potter,
Father: Severus Tobias Snape.
It was a birth certificate. Suddenly the whole story, which had sounded like a huge bad joke just a second ago, sounded very plausible. As if in slow motion, Harry turned his big green eyes on the man next to him, who stood there on shaking legs.
"I...I..." Snape stuttered, dragging a hand through his inky black hair, before he turned to Ron and Hermione: "Miss Granger, Mr. Weasley, please return Harry back to Grimmauld Place." Harry almost thought that the man would just leave him confused and shaking, but he promised, "I will be there in an hour at the latest...I just need some time to think..."
Harry watched him turn on the spot and leave with billowing robes trailing behind him, not knowing if he should feel disappointed because his supposed father had just disappeared. Somehow, whenever he had dreamed about meeting one of his parents, it had always gone differently, and Snape had never been involved.
Besides, should he really believe this crazy tale based only on a weird birth certificate? Sighing, he admitted to himself that he should give up on that particular train of thought. Dumbledore would gain nothing from making him believe that Snape was his father, if the man wasn't.
"Harry?" Dumbledore's voice was soft and concerned, but pulled him from his addled thoughts like not even a shout could have managed.
"Yes?" He asked, still staring at the closed office door.
"To bring this revealing meeting to a close, tell me, is there anything else you wanted to discuss?"
"Yeah," Harry mumbled, as he turned his head back to the conversation, and forced himself to concentrate for at least another minute. This meeting was important. He had come here to achieve things, and not to think about Snape, which he could do as soon as he was back at Grimmauld Place. For now, Dumbledore was more important, and he would not be able to find the Potions Master at the moment anyway.
"If I want something else?" he repeated, frowning for a moment. It should be easier to concentrate and forget the news that his greasy Professor was actually his father.
A warm hand settled on his, and squeezed it gently as he turned his head. Hermione was smiling softly at him. She was pale like a ghost, and nearly trembling as badly as he himself. Laying his free hand on top of hers, he wished for the thousandth time that Lucius could be here. His mate would be able to comfort him better with his strong presence, and his touch would warm his dead flesh.
Blinking, he remembered the other thing he still had to demand from Dumbledore:
"I want my own room at Hogwarts," he blurted out.
"Why?" Ron asked from his left, but Dumbledore only nodded. Harry wasn't sure why the headmaster did not ask any further question about his motives; maybe he just wanted to make it up to him, but the old wizard only said, "Then I shall tell you the third secret."
A choked noise came from Ron's direction, and Hermione's hand clenched his own once, but Harry felt too numb and overwhelmed to react in any drastic way.
"It is again, a long story," Dumbledore began, his voice starting to sound like the voice of doom to Harry's ears. Every secret until now had been life changing, and there was no reason to imagine that it would be different the third time around.
"First you should know, when a squib marries a muggle their descendants are usually muggle as well. But sometimes it occurs that a magical child is born. This only happens when the dormant magical genes of the squib are so powerful that they resurface; making the child of a side branch legally an heir to the main branch and Pureblooded, because these genes drive out all non-magical inheritances, making the child genetically the child or direct descendant of the Pureblooded wizard and witch who sired the squib. It is a very rare phenomenon, and the only reason that some more liberal Pureblood families keep their muggle relatives on their family trees; they are hoping for a miracle," Dumbledore started.
"Is that what happened with my mother?" Harry asked in confusion, feeling as if he could not process much more complicated news or facts. He had still not gotten over the shock of suddenly having a father, and especially not over the identity of his father.
"Exactly my boy. I hope that you will forgive me for hiding this bit of information, but it is connected to Severus' family as well as your mother's and it will bring you a lot of responsibilities, something I wanted to protect you from as long as possible. You already have enough duties on your shoulder..."
Harry's eyes softened as he saw the honest worry in those sapphire eyes. Dumbledore had not been the man who had dragged him into this mess, but the one who had tried to protect him. He didn't know why he was able to forgive so easily, but the attempts to just keep him safe, and give him a normal childhood moved his heart.
"I already told you, that I would give you a second chance, and nothing could be more shocking than the first two secrets, especially the first," he said honestly.
The old wizard nodded with a sad smile, and then continued. "I think it would be better to let you verity this information on your own, so you will believe it more easily." The man stood up and went over to an old cupboard Harry had never noticed before, because it was so plain in comparison to all of the other shiny, glittery, colourful and very magical furniture and clutter in the office, but upon closer inspection, he saw that it was highly warded.
Dumbledore tapped on the cupboard in a complicated pattern, and took two roles of parchment from the inside after the doors had sprung open. He then went back to the desk, and laid them in front of Harry. When Dumbledore had told him that he should look and figure it out himself, he had expected a memory in a pensive, not two rolls of parchment. Wrinkling his temple in concentration, he eyed the seals that were holding the parchment together. The seal on the left scroll was red with a golden lion and the other was silver with a green snake.
Dumbledore tipped the closed rolls with his wand to open them and tipped them once again. A third roll appeared in Harry’s hands and Dumbledore laid the two others to the side, explaining: "This is your family tree, it shows your ancestors of both side of your family, so that you do not have to switch between the two family trees, it will be easier to recognize the significance of your own blood this way."
Nodding uncertainly, he unrolled his personal genealogy. It was a very long parchment and Dumbledore had to hold the other end up so that Harry could see everything. Next to him Hermione made a motion as if she wanted to look as well, but Ron held her back, shaking his head, "This is about his family, he should tell us when he is ready and not when we want to know it. Inheritance is very personal and important in the wizarding world, leave him alone for now."
Harry was thankful for his interference. Lucius had warned him that he would inherit some Malfoy traits, and he suddenly was able to comprehend the importance of his bloodline for the first time in his life, and how important it was to be careful to not give his family secrets away. But still, he knew he would tell his friends whatever he found in a few moments, they had always been loyal and supportive, he just wanted to know first.
Looking down, he saw his own full name on the bottom of the parchment, and was suddenly glad that neither Dumbledore nor his friend had taken a look, because connected to his name was another: Lucius Capricornius Malfoy, and above the line was the small golden symbols of two rings, indicating their mated status.
He glanced to the upper end of the scroll, and could see that the first name on it was Godric Gryffindor, who had a daughter Ida Gryffindor, who was married to Hendrik Potter. Harry had heard the rumours of his family being descendants of Gryffindor, but to see it with his own eyes was something else entirely. He had never really believed that rumour, but now he had proof that it was true. Looking back at the bottom of the scroll, he studied the names above his own: Lily Potter and Severus Tobias Snape.
His mother's name was connected to a couple of gray coloured names, and he asked himself why they were not written in black like the others.
"The gray names are the muggle relatives of your mother, but as I told you, genetically she was considered the daughter of the parents of the founder of the muggle branch," Dumbledore explained as if he had sensed Harry's question.
Skipping the gray names, he looked at the last black names, and drew in a breath, there it was printed: Charles Antonius Potter and Natalia Maria Hufflepuff. His mother was a direct descendant of the Potters, who were direct descendants of both Gryffindor and Hufflepuff.
A horrifying feeling crawled up his back and he had the foreboding thought that he knew what Dumbledore wanted to show him.
Turning his eyes to his father's family tree, he looked once again at the top and found the name Salazar Slytherin. The line continued with the Slytherin name for a couple generations, until a daughter, Alicia Elisabeth Slytherin, married another Pureblood, Septimus Claudius Prince, the Slytherin line becoming the Prince line. And then he found the names which affirmed Harry's suspicion, Severus's great grandfather was Nathanael Augustus Prince and his great grandmother was named Sophia Athene Ravenclaw, and their granddaughter finally married Snape's father, Tobias Snape.
His dead heart skipped a beat, and he slumped back in his chair: "I...I..." he stuttered, not able to comprehend this third shocking piece knowledge. Dumbledore nodded in affirmation, and another scary thought occurred to him: If he really was the heir to all four founders of Hogwarts, did that mean that he was the castle's owner? And if he was, how was it going to affect his life? Were there duties connected to this inheritance? Did he have to be present at every start of term feast, even after graduation? Or did he have to deal with the Board of Governors and the Ministry instead of Dumbledore?
He turned wide questioning eyes to Dumbledore, who gave him a soft, sad and proud smile. "It is all yours. You are the last heir," the old wizard said.
"But that can't be possible, there have to be other families," he tried to argue, but knew already that it would be in vain.
"There are, I myself am a descendant of Gryffindor and Ravenclaw. The Malfoy’s have Slytherin blood, the Lovegoods are related to Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff, and the Longbottom’s and the Weasley’s to Gryffindor, but you are the only one..."
"...who is directly related to all four of the founders," Harry finished the sentence, as if in a trance.
The sound of someone choking on their own spit came from the direction of his friends, but he paid it no attention, instead he forced himself to clear his mind and asked his most pressing question. "What does this mean?"
"Ah, a very wise question, so unspecific and specific at the same time," Dumbledore said, and went back to the wooden cabinet. Harry watched in wonder as the headmaster laid several items in front of him: a ring, a badge, the sorting hat and something that looked like a very old knobbly wand.
"These are the insignia of Hogwarts, and as soon as you are of age, they will belong to you," Dumbledore said. To Harry's absolute horror the Sorting Hat opened his eyes and mouth, and chipped in with a sing-song voice:
"Many things there are that can bring a wizard of age,
And one of these many things has happened to the heir."
Dumbledore's eyes widened and his friends jumped to their feet, gasping. Harry wanted to flee from the office, but knew that it would not save his secrets.
Clearing his throat he said, "The hat is right, but I will not tell you exactly what has happened."
Ron and Hermione took the hint luckily, and sat back down.
"That is fine my boy, you are allowed to have your secrets, and I am the last person who has a right to demand the truth," Dumbledore said, and then inquired, "Shall I continue my explanation?"
"Yes please, sir."
"The school and its entire insignia rightfully belong to you, and you should take them with you. The ring has the Hogwarts crest on it, and functions as a key to every room in the castle. The badge will allow you to change the room behind whichever door you put it on into the Founders Quarters. It is rumoured that in these quarters is a door that can be spelled to open to every other room directly."
So that was the reason why Dumbledore told him all of this. He had demanded his own room, and now he could choose one freely. The man really seemed to want to make up for his past mistakes. Picking up the insignia ring, he examined it closely. It was made of gold and had the Hogwarts crest, but there was something more. Without his enhanced eyes, he would never have been able to recognize it, but there was a little falcon engraved upon the ring that carried the crest in its claws. Frowning, he wondered if the bird had a special meaning, he had never seen it in Hogwarts before. Thinking that he might find some information in the Hogwarts library as soon as the next term had begun, he concentrated back on the old headmaster:
"You already know the Sorting Hat. He was made by the Founders, as everything else on this desk with the exception of the Elder Wand. It is one of the Deathly Hallows, and according to the legend, was made by Death himself. It is also said that you can never lose in a battle with this wand. Its first owner was Antioch Peverell who was related to Slytherin, and even though the wand has been through many hands in history, it has found its way back to Hogwarts where it rightfully belongs."
Harry gulped and stared at the wand, which almost looked like a very long finger bone in his opinion. He picked it up carefully, and felt a rush of power and a voice seemed to whisper finally.
The others must have heard the voice as well, because they all looked at him with wide eyes and white faces, even Dumbledore.
The uncomfortable silence stretched on, and Harry decided to break it, clearing his throat,
"So, I am the owner of Hogwarts, but what does that mean for the next term? I mean, I am only twelve years old and haven't completed my education. Even though I am of age, I cannot take over the position of headmaster, and I'm not sure I would want it either."
Dumbledore smiled again, an honest and happy smile, "I am glad to see that you are still grounded, even with all of the knowledge and power that you now possess. You are right; you cannot take over my position. The owner of the school and the Headmaster could be the same person, but does not have to be. You can allow me to continue as your deputy or employee, or even select someone else for the position, but, as long as you are still attending school, you are not allowed to be headmaster yourself, and you will have to listen to the teachers, as you have done in the past. All of the rules will still apply to you."
Harry was relieved to hear this; he didn't want to have even more privileges than those that already came with the Founders' Insignia.
Dropping his head into his hands, he tried to relax for a moment into the soothing darkness. He really felt overwhelmed and tired right now, and he wanted nothing more than to get back to Grimmauld Place, and hopefully find Snape there to talk to him. They had much to discuss.
"I think we will take Harry back home now," Hermione said carefully and waited for Harry's reaction.
He nodded in agreement and stood up on shaky legs.
"Do you want me to keep the sorting hat in my office, or will you take it with you and bring it back to the school the day before the term starts?" Dumbledore asked.
Harry locked eyes with the man and answered, "It can stay here, and I want you to continue your job as headmaster. You have always done a great job, even with me most of the time. You are understanding and kind hearted, and I still think you are a great headmaster." Hopefully, Dumbledore would understand his answer as the peace offering it was meant to be. In the end, he could not stay angry with the man; he had done too much for him, even though some decisions were questionable.
"Thank you Harry. When shall I arrive at Grimmauld Place to announce you are the new leader?"
Harry thought about it for a moment. They should do the ceremony soon, but every member of the order needed to have time to arrive. In the end he decided, "Tomorrow at 5 p.m., and please send a note to all of the members; I still don't know everyone yet."
"I will do that and bring you a list of all of the members," Dumbledore promised, before going over to his fireplace. "I will open the Floo for you, so that you do not have to trespass through Severus' quarters again."
Harry smiled sheepishly and carefully placed all of Hogwarts' Insignia into his pocket before taking a handful of Floo powder.
"And Harry?" he turned back to Dumbledore, whose eyes were finally twinkling again, "Please call me Albus, after all, you are my boss now."
- 10
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- 12
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A Different Kind of Hero