Remus looked down at the picture in his hands and then back up to Harry's bright green eyes. "Harry, I-"
"Don't," Harry interrupted. "Explain, because there is no way that my dad would have been friends with a murderer. Why didn't you tell me?!"
Remus felt like the breath had been knocked out of him. He had absolutely no idea what to say to Harry. He didn't know how to explain about Sirius, how to make him understand.
"Harry," Severus said, suddenly beside Remus as he held his hand out for the photo. "It's not Remus's fault that you didn't know. It's mine. It was my place to tell you and I didn't. I kept waiting for the right time to bring it up but-"
"Is there a right time to tell someone that their dad was friends with one of Voldemort's followers?" Harry asked sarcastically.
"He wasn't!" Remus spoke sharply, harsher than Harry had ever heard him and Harry glanced up at him.
"Remus-"
"No, Severus," Remus shot back. "We tried it your way and do you see what happened?! Harry deserves the truth."
"Then I'll tell him," Severus remained calm, despite Remus nearly shouting at him.
Albus and Minerva were standing now but neither had come closer or joined in the conversation that was happening beside them. Minerva looked saddened and Harry was unsure why, but Albus simply sighed. He seemed to want to interject but thought better of it as he held his hand out for Minerva.
"Would you like to take a walk?" he asked, seeming to decide that it would be better to give them space. Minerva nodded and walked with him out of the kitchen and to the living room, where a moment later, they heard the front door close.
"I'm telling him," Remus said in a voice that was somewhere between soft and stern. He wasn't yelling but it was clear that his mind wouldn't be changed. Eventually, Severus conceded and led the way into the living room where they all took seats, Remus and Harry on the couch and Severus in the chair.
Remus took a deep breath and turned to Harry. He held the picture out to him. "Alright. This is me, your dad, Sirius Black, and Peter Pettigrew. And they were all my best friends. Two of them are gone now, and Sirius Black is the reason." Remus swallowed hard and tried to gather his thoughts so that he could explain this in a way that Harry would understand. "When Voldemort went after you and your parents, Dad helped put them in hiding. They used a very powerful charm in which they hid the location of themselves inside a single person. That person was Sirius. He and your dad were closer than brothers. He even lived with the Potters for a while. They- we all- trusted him. None of us even suspected that he had been turned by Voldemort and his followers, that he was a spy against the light. To us," he glanced at Snape to see him scowling down at the floor, "to most of us, he had always been the exact opposite of everything that Voldemort stood for. He had never held onto his family's pureblood beliefs. In fact, he'd been ostracized by them because he believed that Muggle-borns, Half-bloods, and everyone else deserved equality and were just as important as wizards. So you can imagine why it was such a shock to us all when Voldemort found you that night. Because, make no mistake, Harry, he could not have done so unless Sirius had given up the secret."
"So he was their friend?" Harry asked, his voice constricted with emotion as he felt his eyes sting. "He was their friend and he betrayed them?!"
"Yes," Remus agreed simply. "We don't know why or when he changed, but there is simply no other way to explain it. Peter got to Sirius before anyone else could and he tried to confront him. But Peter was never much for dueling and Sirius was very good. He killed him and thirteen Muggles with a single blast. The Aurors found Peter's finger among the wreckage and that was all they had to return to his mother."
After that, Remus became very quiet, but Harry sat, seething beside him. He wanted to cry but he felt too angry.
"Their friend?" he questioned no one in particular. "He was their friend and he betrayed them. They trusted him!"
Throughout all of this, Severus sat quietly in the chair. He wanted to go to Harry, to find a way to be comforting. Anything so that he didn't feel so alone. But he couldn't. He just didn't know how, and even if he did, he wasn't sure that Harry wanted that. And so he sat, ramrod straight, as he watched Harry swipe angrily at a tear that escaped his eye.
"He was their friend, Harry. I don't say this to excuse him in the least because Merlin knows that if I'd been in the country at the time, I likely would have done just as Peter had. But before Voldemort got to him, Sirius Black was our best friend. He was the best man at their wedding and-" Remus cut himself off, seeing Severus shake his head sharply.
"And what?" Harry asked. He looked between Remus and Severus who stared at each
other in silence. "Tell me," Harry said angrily.
"He was, er, still is your godfather," Remus admitted.
"What?" Harry felt shaken. "When did that happen? Before or after he became friends with Voldemort?!"
"Before," Severus spoke for the first time since they had sat down. "He was your father's best friend, Harry. It was only natural that they would make him your godfather in the event that something happened to them."
"What about my Mum's best friend, then? I know it wouldn't have been Aunt Petunia. There is no way that she was close with her. Not with how Aunt Petunia always talked about her."
Severus sighed. "It wouldn't have been Petunia, Harry. But it wasn't a possibility at the time for her to have it be someone else."
"Why?" Harry wanted to know. He had never given the idea so much as a second thought before, but he desperately wanted to know who his mother would have picked to be his godparent. That person could have taken him from the Dursleys to begin with. "Who would she have picked?"
Severus stared for a long moment at the boy who had somehow become one of the biggest parts of his life. Could he tell him now who Lily would have picked? Would he believe him? Or would he think he was only saying it to appease him? In the end, it didn't matter because Severus knew more than anything that he couldn't lie to Harry. Not now and not about this.
"Me," he finally admitted. "She would have picked me. Or at least, she might have if she hadn't thought I was a Death Eater at the time. Though James and I weren't friends at all, Lily was my very best friend. But by the time she married James and had you, I was already deep in my role as a spy. There was no way that I could have taken on any role that would connect me to the Light."
"You?" Harry looked at him in confusion. "I don't understand. If she would have picked you, after Voldemort fell, you could have taken me in. I wouldn't have had to live with the Dursleys."
Severus nodded. "Yes, but she didn't. And because of that, you had to go to your relatives. It was the only option."
"I hate him," Harry said after a long, quiet moment. Severus looked at him and saw that his normally bright green eyes were now dark and angry. "I hope he does find me."
"Harry-" Remus said abruptly but Harry continued as if he hadn't spoken.
"I hope he finds me, because when he does, I'll be ready. When he does, I'm going to kill him!"
***
Severus and Harry floo'd home after that and Harry immediately stalked off to his room, slamming the door behind him. Severus let him go without a word. He knew all too well what it was to feel such anger and knew that more than anything, Harry would want to be alone for a while. Though, it didn't make him feel any better about watching him go. He could only hope that by morning, he would feel up to talking about it. He was thankful that tomorrow was Sunday and that Harry wouldn't also have to deal with classes on top of everything else.
Severus cursed himself for not having talked to Harry sooner about Black. He couldn't fathom what he had been thinking. Remus had even told him not two weeks ago that he needed to tell him before he found out some other way, but Severus had kept pushing it off, waiting for that elusive 'right time'. And now it was too late. Harry knew and he was of course hurt and angry. He hoped desperately that his anger would eb soon though. The idea of Harry facing Black was almost too much for him to bear.
He went to his lab. He'd always found such comfort in his potions, but this night he bypassed his workstation and went to his desk; opening the bottom drawer with a murmured alohamora before he pulled out the bottle of Firewhiskey that he had put there on that first Thursday morning after Harry came. He accio'd a tumbler and poured two-fingers of the golden liquid. Then, with a sigh, he replaced the bottle and sat back in his chair.
Taking the first sip, Severus let his thoughts wander to Lily, and for once, he didn't feel empty inside. She had been so full of life and happiness that sometimes the absence of that life in the world left Severus feeling like he had a gaping hole in his chest. Lily: his first and best friend. There had been a point, somewhere between third and fourth year, when the beatings had taken a truly terrifying turn, that Severus had hated everything about Muggles. He had, though he would only admit this to himself privately, even considered that Voldemort might have had the right idea. It wasn't a thought that he liked to dwell upon, but back then, it had seemed that it was all he'd thought about. He had been so sure that he was going to grow up and get his revenge on Tobias Snape when he least expected it.
It was Lily who had changed his mind, even if she'd never known it. She had never cared about playing up to Severus's feelings and had no problem telling him off if he were being stupid. She hadn't minded letting him know in no uncertain terms what she thought of his bright ideas and had told him she wouldn't be a part of them.
Privately, it hadn't done much for Severus at the time. He'd just kept his thoughts to himself and by the time he had arrived at Hogwarts for his fourth year, Severus was so full of anger and hate that he didn't care what anyone thought of him. He was tired of hurting all the time.
Then he'd passed out in the middle of History of Magic and everything changed. Oh, he was still plenty angry, but Dumbledore and Minerva were there now, as well as Lily. And slowly, Severus was pulled back into the Light. Every waking thought was no longer consumed with vengeance, and despite how much he still hated Tobias- for it was true that he most assuredly still hated him- he knew that it wouldn't do him any good to go after him. Instead, he merely pretended he had died. He was already dead to him long before he'd been removed from his custody anyway.
Things had changed again after Remus had been adopted. That first summer with him had been hard. Severus could freely admit that now, but ultimately, his life was better for it. Before, Remus had been as much his enemy as James and the others. He'd only had Lily before then. Years later, Severus had realized that Albus and Minerva must have known that the only way for Remus and Severus to break through their hatred for each other was to force them to spend time together, and they had. It seemed like for every day that summer, his parents had had something planned that would cause the two of them to have to talk and get to know each other. Eventually, though they'd both fought it every step of the way, they'd come to an understanding.
The rest of his friends were a different story. Severus hadn't wanted them to know, and that decision had been the source of one of their biggest arguments over that summer. Remus had wanted nothing more than to tell James, Sirius, and Peter about being adopted by Albus and Minerva, and Severus hadn't had a problem with that. He'd just wanted to be left out of it. He hadn't wanted to risk them telling someone and ruining what he had come to hold so dearly. Remus had of course promised that they would never tell anyone, and that now that Remus knew Severus and they had become brothers, he would put an end to the bullying as well. But Severus had refused. He had decided that he would rather things stay the same at school than to risk putting his newfound family in jeopardy in case James or Sirius wasn't as trustworthy as they had led Remus to believe. After what had happened with Sirius, Severus had been sure that the secrecy had been a good idea, especially once Severus had become a spy. Sirius would have given him up to Voldemort in a heartbeat.
Before Severus knew it, it was nearing midnight. He looked down at his empty glass and vanished it before he stood up. He would check on Harry and then head to bed himself.
***
Turning the knob on Harry's door brought Severus up short. He had locked it. Severus was torn between just leaving it alone and unlocking the door himself. Ultimately, the need to check on the child outweighed his desire to grant him privacy, and he uttered the spell to unlock the door. Harry was asleep on his side just like he always was. But instead of the peaceful slumber that Snape normally found him in, Harry still seemed angry, as if even in sleep he were upset. His brows were furrowed and he seemed to be clenching his teeth together. He had his arms crossed and his legs were curled up towards his chest. His glasses had been tossed carelessly on the bedside table and his shoes were kicked off on the floor, but he still wore the clothes which he had gone to dinner in. Now, the shirt was disheveled and had ridden up his back so that bare skin was exposed to the cold of the dungeon air. He hadn't even bothered to get under the blankets.
With a wave of his wand, Severus transfigured Harry's clothes into pajamas before he pulled the blankets out from under him. He tucked them in around his shoulders and cast a warming spell on them. Harry gave a small sigh and relaxed slightly.
Severus turned away from the bed and picked up Harry's shoes and set them up neatly where they belonged and folded his glasses properly. Surveying the rest of the room, Severus took a moment to tidy up all of the parchment and quills that Harry had strewn about on the desk and to send the dirty clothes to the hamper in the bathroom. Honestly, Severus thought, the boy stays here maybe one night a week. How is it always so messy? Then, he stoked the fire and dimmed the lights before leaving the room and heading for his own.
***
The first thing that Harry noticed when he woke up the next morning was that it was much later than Snape usually let him sleep in. The second thing he noticed was that he was now in pajamas and his room had been cleaned up. He narrowed his eyes. He wanted to be angry at Snape right now and he didn't need him coming in and being nice to him.
Scowling, Harry stomped off towards the bathroom and got ready, purposefully not putting on socks or shoes just to irritate Snape. He even left his bed unmade because he knew that it was one of the man's biggest pet peeves.
Entering the kitchen, Harry found Snape at the table drinking a cup of coffee. For once, The Daily Prophet was nowhere in sight.
"Good morning," Snape said, glancing at him from over the rim of his cup as he took a sip.
Harry didn't answer. Instead, he simply pulled out his chair and dropped down into it. Snape raised an eyebrow at him but didn't mention it, he merely tapped the table so that Harry's breakfast appeared. Harry rolled his eyes at seeing all his favorite breakfast foods. He was being a prat and he knew it, but he couldn't seem to shake his ill mood.
Harry put his elbow on the table and dropped his head into his hand as he stabbed at his eggs with more force than was strictly necessary, completely ignoring the annoyed look that Snape was giving him. Harry was surprised that Snape hadn't said anything to him yet. It was unlike the man to ignore Harry's attitude, even if Harry did think it was completely justified.
"Do you have plans for today?" Snape asked calmly.
"Nope," Harry replied without looking up from his plate.
"Then would you like to help me out in the lab for a while? I've got several potions that I need to be labeled and stored-"
"No, thanks," Harry interrupted.
Snape sighed. "Would you like to talk about what's bothering you, then?" He fixed the child with a steely glare that Harry ignored entirely.
"Like you don't know." Harry muttered the words angrily as he continued to glare down at his food, steadfastly ignoring his guardian.
"Harry, I have already apologized for not telling you about Black sooner. As did Remus. I simply wasn't sure how to tell you-"
"How to tell me what?" Harry snapped, finally meeting Snape's eyes. "That my dad was friends with a murderer, or that he made him my godfather?! What part of that would have been hard to say, Snape?!"
Snape took a deep breath. He had no desire to get into an argument with Harry this morning, but he wasn't going to sit back and be yelled at either.
"You need to calm down, Harry. I understand that you're upset but speaking to me like that is not acceptable and you know it."
"Whatever. I guess it's acceptable for you to lie to me but I'm not supposed to be mad about it. How many times have I talked to Remus about my parents and he never once mentioned Sirius Black? But I guess that would be pretty hard, because then he'd have to tell me the real reason he was after me!"
"That's enough." Snape was losing his patience as he listened to Harry shouting angrily. "If you can't speak civilly, you can stand in the corner until you can. It's not your anger I have a problem with, Harry. It's your attitude and I'll tolerate no more of it today!"
"No worries, Snape. Because I won't be speaking to you at all!" Harry pushed back from the table so hard that the chair fell over. He watched as it clattered to the floor. He was breathing heavily and turned to walk out the door.
"Pick it up," Snape said immediately, his tone icy. "And then plant yourself in the corner."
"No," Harry spat without even turning around. "I'm going to my dorm."
"You're going nowhere except where I told you." Harry took another step towards the door and heard Snape sigh. "Harry."
It was the soft way in which Snape said his name that caused Harry to pause, though he didn't turn around. He glared at the floor. "Fine," he murmured before stalking off and into the living room.
***
From the corner, several minutes later, Harry heard as Snape came into the room and sat down behind him. Harry wondered if he had taken a few minutes to calm himself down and he wished that he could do the same. He was still fuming but if he were being honest, he wasn't even sure why he was so angry. Sure, he was mad that Snape and Remus hadn't told him about Black, but did that really explain all of this? Was that the only thing bothering him? Surely that couldn't be all there was to it. Harry dropped his head against the wall as he tried to think, only to hear Snape clear his throat behind him. He lifted it back up again with a huff.
He tried to think back to the night before when he'd found the picture in Remus's room. He had been more shocked than anything at first, because what could it mean that this boy who hadn't been much older than him in the photo, who was smiling and laughing with his friends, could grow up and be the reason that two people were killed by the darkest wizard on Earth? He wondered what had happened to bring him to that place.
But because Remus had told him the story about how he had been their friend- their best friend- and then he had betrayed them, all Harry could think about was how much he wished Sirius Black were dead instead of his parents. Why them? Why did it have to be them that died while Black only went to prison? Why Peter Pettigrew and all of those Muggles?
He felt sick when he thought of Pettigrew, who had only wanted to defend his friends, but instead had been murdered by one. And his mother who didn't even have enough left of her son to bury. How must she feel, knowing what had happened to her child had been at the hands of someone close to him?
Harry himself had grown up without parents. But worse than that, he'd had to endure the Dursleys for twelve years. He had been starved and beaten and locked away like an animal in a cage all because of something that happened so long ago that he couldn't even remember it! He heard his mother dying trying to protect him every time a dementor came too close. The only memory he had of her voice was of her screaming.
And it was Black's fault. All of it was his fault and yet he was free now, out there, waiting for another chance to kill someone else!
"Harry!" Snape had glanced up to see Harry visibly shaking in the corner. When Harry didn't answer him, he quickly stood and crossed the room. "Harry," he said again as he put his hand on Harry's shoulder and turned him to face him, immediately seeing that silent tears were flowing down Harry's face.
"I'm sorry, Snape!" Harry cried, letting himself sink into his arms, not caring that he was crying into the robes of the Potions Master.
Snape wrapped his arms around Harry in alarm at the sudden change. He tentatively cradled Harry's head against his chest as the child continued to weap.
"Shh. It's alright, Harry," Snape said. When it seemed that Harry wasn't going to calm down quickly, he led them over to the couch so that they could both sit down. Harry never let go of him and when they were on the couch, he simply pulled his feet up onto it and continued to lean against Snape. "Harry, what's all this about?" Snape asked as he shifted around a bit so that he could try to get a look at Harry. "Surely you're not this upset over ten minutes in the corner?" Harry shook his head but didn't speak. Though his tears were beginning to slow down a bit. For that, Snape was relieved. "Then what is it? I can't help you if you don't talk to me."
Harry's breath hitched as he reached up to swipe at his eyes. As he had done before with Hermione, Snape conjured up a handkerchief and pressed it into Harry's hand. After several long moments in which Harry wouldn't even look at Snape, he calmed down enough to lean back against the couch.
"Now, what's the matter?" Snape asked again, hoping this time he would get a proper response.
"I hate him," Harry said after several long moments and a few failed attempts at speaking. "It's not fair that he gets to live while everyone else dies."
Snape nodded. "It's not."
"All of this is his fault. If he hadn't turned evil, my parents would still be here. They trusted him, Snape!"
"I know," Snape said softly, maybe more so than Harry had ever heard him speak. "I know they did. They could never have known though, Harry. I was already a spy by this point, remember? And I didn't even know."
"I know it sounds selfish," Harry said quietly, not looking up at Snape, "but if you hadn't been a spy, would you have taken me in?"
Snape closed his eyes. He didn't know how to answer the question, because he didn't know the answer. He didn't want to hurt Harry, but he couldn't lie to him either. On the other hand, Snape didn't know if he had it in him to tell the truth. So for a long time, they sat in silence, both watching the fire crackle in the hearth, lost in their own thoughts.
"It's okay, Snape," Harry said eventually. "I understand."
Snape looked down at him and shook his head. Harry thought his eyes looked darker than usual and he could see his forehead creasing as if he were struggling to think- or not to think- of something important.
"No, you don't," Snape replied after a moment. "But I'll try to explain it anyway."
With that, Snape stood up from the couch and crossed over to the bookshelf. He reached onto the top row of books and pulled down a leather-bound journal. He ran his hand over the front cover, wiping away the dust that had settled there. He opened it up to a page somewhere near the middle. There, a small picture of two first-years lay inside.
With a sigh, Snape replaced the book and brought the picture back over to the couch, reclaiming his seat next to Harry. "This all started with a picture," he said as he held it out to the boy, "so I suppose I can show you one as well."
Harry looked down and saw a small red-haired girl standing next to a black-haired boy. He didn't need to ask who they were. I would recognize either of them anywhere, he thought.
Beside him, Snape took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "She was my first friend. We grew up only a few streets away from each other, though I didn't meet her until we were almost eleven. Just in time to come to Hogwarts. She knew everything. She knew about my father. She was there when my mother got sick and when she passed. Lily didn't care that I was poor or that my father-" Snape took another breath. "That he beat me. I never needed to feel ashamed around her. She was kind and also fierce. She didn't mind calling me out if I was out of line. Lily was the only person- until Remus that is- who knew I had been adopted. She kept my secret even from James when they started dating. And I loved her for it.
"Of course, we didn't always get along. When you have two people who were as stubborn as the both of us, you're bound to get into a fight or two., or ten. But we always made up. Always. Even after I royally stuck my foot in my mouth in fifth year. I didn't know until later, but I had Remus to thank for that. And it didn't matter that James and I didn't get along. Well, I suppose it did at first, but Lily set us straight more than once, and in the end, around the end of our seventh year, we began to fight less and less. Though, and I'm sure you'll hate this, the animosity that had grown between us throughout all the years was still there, and neither of us could stand the other. But Lily was more important. I don't know how things would have gone between us after Hogwarts if he had lived, because immediately after I became a spy against my parents' wishes. I didn't tell Lily, the only person who knew me better than anyone, and I stupidly allowed her to think I had turned to Voldemort."
"Why?" Harry breathed. He still held the picture in his hands and he leaned against Snape's arm almost automatically as he stared down at it. Snape didn't seem to mind though, and so Harry moved his legs back down from the couch and rested his head on Snape's shoulder, Suddenly feeling tired despite having slept all night.
"Because I thought the fewer people who knew, the safer it would be for all involved. I would rather have had her think less of me than for her to be put in danger because of me. Not that it mattered in the end." Snape cleared his throat and looked away towards the floor for a moment before he continued. "Anyway, to answer your question, Harry, I was so angry when Lily died, that for a long time, for longer than I want to admit, I was in no place to take in anyone. Even if I had been able to."
"Is that why you hated me when I came here?" Harry murmured. Snape felt his chest tighten at the question but before he could even hope to give a response, Harry was speaking again. "It's alright, Snape. I understand."
"No, Harry," Snape said quickly, "You shouldn't have to understand that. I admit that I was wrong in how I treated you. I know we've talked about it before but I need you to understand that, while it's certainly not an excuse, it's the only explanation I have. I've been so angry and bitter and I took it out on all the wrong people. Maybe I should have done as Remus did and just left Hogwarts altogether, but even after all these years, this is the only place I've ever truly known as home. Despite everything, I couldn't convince myself to give it up."
Beside him, Harry nodded, but Snape was sure that he hadn't adequately explained anything. He desperately wanted Harry to know and understand, but how could a child be expected to understand what Snape himself wasn't even sure of?
"The only thing I truly know, Harry, is that if Lily were here now, she would never forgive me. Likely, she wouldn't want me anywhere near you. Does that change anything for you?"
Harry sighed as he thought over Snape's words. He tried to think of how his mum or dad would feel about him living with Snape, but every time he thought of it, he could only imagine that surely they would just want him to be happy.
"No," Harry whispered. "They don't know you like I do now. I still want to be with you. Is that okay?"
"Yes," Snape breathed a sigh of relief. "That's more than okay."
The two of them sat there for a long time afterward content in the silence. At some point, Snape looked down and noticed that Harry's breathing had evened out in sleep. The picture was still clutched in his hand. A wave of his wand brought Harry's blanket soaring through the air and Snape maneuvered it so that it lay across him. Snape thought of the potions that needed to be labeled and stored but he couldn't bring himself to get up. Instead, he found himself sinking further into the comfort of the couch, eventually falling asleep himself.