Content warning: This chapter contains subject matter (references to rape) that might be triggering/disturbing for some.

Chapter 6: Confrontations

Alice Longbottom just stared at Severus Snape as he retched into the trash can. Even though he knew it wasn't the same Alice behind those eyes, he still withered under her blank stare.

He couldn't believe what he'd just seen.

Alice's mind is addled, he tried to tell himself. She's at St. Mungo's because she's insane.

She made no indication that any of the rifling he done to her memories had had any affect on her. She just kept staring.

He had to know for sure, so he braced himself for the disorientating onslaught of her broken mind one more time.

"Legilimens."

Lily crumbled into Alice's arms while sobs racked her body. Baby Potter gripped her red hair in his saliva-covered fists.

After a while, Lily stopped shaking and Alice pulled away to look at her.

"Lily, do you want me to break the memory charm?"

Lily didn't look up or answer right away. She brushed the back of her index finger down the baby's cheek. He stared back, pulling the handful of his mother's hair into his mouth.

"No."

"Even to find out who Harry's father is?"

Lily looked up sharply at that.

"James is Harry's father. End of story."

Alice just nodded.

"But I do need your help," she said as she handed the baby to her.

Severus couldn't find Lily in Alice's memories again. He tried for what seemed like hours before losing hold. And then he was closed off from her mind like a door had been slammed in his face, and again, he felt like more was going on behind Alice Longbottom's eyes than she was letting on.

"Alice," he said in a low whisper. "Alice, do you know who I am?"

Alice didn't answer. She didn't even indicate she had heard him at all.

"Alice? What did Lily ask you?"

Again, no answer. Not even a blink.

"What did you do to Harry Potter?"

And then it hit him again, hard, like a bludger to the chest. Potter. Not a Potter.

I have a son.

Harry Potter is my son.

For Harry, the Easter holiday was over too fast, and the sinking feeling in his stomach as Monday approached turned into full-on panic as he stood outside the Great Hall before classes.

Ron stood next to him in solidarity, but Harry could see the hungry look on his face each time the doors opened, delicious smells of breakfast wafting out.

"You don't have to wait out here with me," Harry said finally. "I can meet up with you in History of Magic."

"I'm fine," said Ron, casually waving him off. The grumbling coming from his abdomen said otherwise. "Where's Hermione? She said she'd meet us before lessons."

As if summoned with a spell, Hermione appeared, coming from the Great Hall carrying a giant stack of toast wrapped in a napkin.

"Fancy some air before class?" she asked as she split he stack between the three of them.

"Thanks," said Harry. "Was he..."

"No Snape," she answered.

They walked down to the lake in silence. The fresh air was just what Harry needed to ease some of the ache in his chest. The giant squid waved lazy tenticles at them. Ron threw his crusts to it.

"Double potions today," said Hermione as they watched the floating bread get pulled under the water's surface. "What are you going to do?"

Harry wondered briefly what monstrous invertebrates had to worry about on a daily basis before turning back to Hermione.

"I don't know," said Harry. "I think I'm safe from Umbridge. If Snape had told her about our fight, I'd probably be chained up in the dungeons by now."

"I think you should just skive off," said Ron. "Fred and George should have something to do the trick."

Harry pulled a wrapped sweet from his pocket and showed it to Ron.

"Plan B," said Harry as he pocketed the nose bleed nougat.

"What's Plan A," asked Ron.

"I haven't decided yet."

But there was nothing to worry about. After perhaps the fastest History of Magic class they had ever sat through, Harry, Hermione, and Ron came upon a crowd of students outside Snape's dungeon classroom.

"What's going on?" asked Hermione, standing on tip-toes to see over the crowd. Ron stretch his already long frame to look over the heads of the other students.

"There's a sign on the door," he said. "'Fifth Year Potions Canceled. 20-inch essay on healing draughts due Thursday.'"

Students ran excitedly back up the stairs. Not even the prospect of homework could dampen the mood a whole double period off envoked.

"Not even a substitute professor," mumbled Hermione. She was the only person who seemed disappointed.

The knot in Harry's stomach untied itself, and for the first time in days, he was able to take a full breath.

Severus closed himself off in his office and tried to catch up on grading. His work had piled up over the holiday. He had almost let the fifth years off without assigning an essay, if only to save himself the work, but canceling class was unusual enough. He didn't need anyone to think he'd gone soft.

In fact, he had never canceled a class in his entire tenure at Hogwarts. He was sure it would raise eyebrows around the castle, but he didn't care. He wasn't ready to face any students, especially Potter.

Potter.

He didn't know what he was going to do about the boy. He didn't even know if there was anything to be done. Bridges had been burned long ago. There wasn't a clear way back from what he had done. He knew that, at least.

A knock at his office door made him look up from the stack of papers on his desk, and for a brief moment, he thought it might be the boy on the other side. But that thought was dispelled with the faint "hem, hem" coming from the other side.

Severus sighed before issuing a curt, "Enter."

Dolores Umbridge walked slowly up to Severus' desk, waiting for him to acknowledge her. When he didn't, she cleared her throat again, and he finally looked up after marking another essay with a black, spiky "D".

"How can I be of assistance, Headmistress?" He set down his quill and steepled his hands in front of his face.

"You canceled your morning class with the fifth years," she said, taking a seat on the other side of the desk.

"Correct."

"You weren't at breakfast this morning."

"Also correct."

Umbridge used her index finger to nudge an already neat stack of papers into a more orderly pile before looking up.

"In fact, you we're gone from the castle throughout the holiday."

"Like I told you before, my time after hours is not under your purview," he said, struggling to keep his voice under control.

"Quite right," she said, simpering. "But when you are away during school hours, it is."

"Is there something you would like to ask me?" he asked coolly.

She got up from the seat and started to pace slowly around the room, stopping to investigate the various jars along the wall.

"Only why you didn't notify me of your absence this morning so a substitute could be arranged," she said, tapping her finger against the glass of one of the jars containing a preserved doxey.

"No one in this castle is suitable to teach my classes."

"Again," she said, turning to meet his eye. "My purview. So I'll ask again. Where were you?"

"Family emergency," he said without thinking, catching himself off-guard with his own words.

"I wasn't aware you had any family," she said, frowning. "Your file seemed to indicate you did not."

"And that is my purview. If you don't mind, Headmistress," he stood and swept a hand toward the door, "I have a class of first years to teach this afternoon, and you've been so keen to make sure I attend my own classes."

Umbridge clutched her pink handbag in front of her and eyed Severus for a while longer before turning toward the door.

"Oh, one more thing," she said as reached the door. "Is it true you are tutoring Harry Potter in remedial potions?"

"It was," he answered wearily, "until very recently."

"They were no longer necessary?"

"The boy is stubborn and unteachable," he answered. "Ours was not a productive working relationship."

Understatement of the century, thought Severus.

"I sympathize," said Umbridge sweetly. "But I would ask that you resume those lessons."

"Any particular reason?" he asked.

"I want eyes on that boy," she answered, all sweetness leaving her voice. "I trust you Severus, and trust your motivations for being here."

"My motivations?"

"Yes, your motivations," she said. "I'll ask you to keep me apprised of your lessons with Potter. I'd like to be kept in the loop of his progress, so to speak."

She winked at him, and then left the office.

Severus watched her leave, his mind worrying over the many possible meanings of her statement. Was she aware of their Occulamency lessons, or was this just her crusade against the boy for speaking out against her? He was well aware of her battle with the boy over curriculum, the so-called DA, and his numerous detentions with her. Was this just more paranoia on her part, or did she know more than she let on?

Harry hesitated at the entrance to the Great Hall, blocking the stream of students entering for dinner. He tried to crane his neck over the crowd to catch a glimpse of the head table, but couldn't see anything.

He almost toppled over as someone thrust a hand in his back, pushing him forward.

"Come on, mate," said Ron, steading him before he could keep falling. "You're going to have to eat eventually."

"You'd be surprised how long I can live on pure spite," he mumbled, but followed Ron in anyway.

As they made their way along the rows of tables, Harry could see a dark shape at the end of the head table. He knew it was Snape, but didn't make eye contact. He sat on one side of Hermione, who was already cutting into a pork chop, and focused on filling his own plate.

Harry concentrated on eating his food, mechanically shoveling in bite after bite, ignoring the bickering passing between Ron and Hermione. He finished off his plate, getting ready to retreat back down the hall, when Ron and Hermione stopped arguing abruptly. Harry looked up at them, their eyes focused away from him, and followed their line of sight, and saw the billowing black figure descending on them. Harry was torn between pulling out his wand, readying to duel, or hiding under the table.

Snape stopped in front of him and shot a cool glare at Ron and Hermione, who were both looking at the two of them expectantly.

He turned his gaze to Harry.

"Potter, please follow me to my office."

Harry didn't move. Ron flinched for his wand. Hermione grabbed his wrist. Not missing the motion, Snape's lip curled in to a sneer.

"Tsk, tsk, Weasley, that will be 10 points," he said, turning his eyes back to Harry. "Now, Mr. Potter. I don't have all night."

Harry looked up to the head table, and could see Umbridge watching the interaction intently. She had a satisfied look on her face. Harry looked back to Snape, but he was impassive as ever. Harry stood slowly, and followed Snape as he swept down the hall. He could hear whispers and snickers, mostly from the Slytherins, as he did so.

Snape did not look back at Harry as they walked toward the dungeons. He briefly considered bolting for the staircase as they passed, but let the thought go. At the office door, Snape swept around the desk and sat heavily in his chair. Harry stood in the doorway, watching him.

"Close the door and sit down, Mr. Potter," said Snape. He was pinching the bridge of his nose, his eyes closed. Harry did as requested and sat across from him. He gripped the arms of the chair so tight, his knuckles turned white. He let go and flexed his fingers before resting this hands in his lap. He looked everywhere but at Snape.

"Headmistress Umbridge paid me a visit this afternoon," said Snape. Harry's head snapped up at that.

"Whatever you told her, I'll make sure everyone knows what you did!" Harry found himself on his feet without realizing, leaning over the desk toward Snape.

Snape didn't even flinch.

"Temper, Potter," he sneered. "That's what makes you so dreadful at Occulamency. You wear your emotions out in plain sight. You need to learn some restraint. Sit down. I will not have a repeat of the events during our last meeting."

Harry's breath was hissing through his teeth, but he sank slowly back in to the chair.

"Now, to answer the question you're trying to ask. I did not discuss the matter of our, ah, altercation with her."

Harry crossed his arms in front of his chest and huffed.

"Then what did she want?"

"You may be angry with me, Potter, but I am still your professor."

"What did she want, sir?"

"She made it clear she wants our private lessons to continue."

"But does that mean she knows what we've been doing? I thought it was supposed to be a secret." The revelation made Harry momentarily forget his animosity for the whole situation.

"It wasn't obvious to me what she does or does not know," he said. "I can only assume that she will try to follow up and perhaps it will become apparent."

"So what am I supposed to do now?" asked Harry.

Snape raised an eyebrow at him.

"Sir."

"We will resume our scheduled meetings, and you will make an actual effort to learn this time."

"And what if I don't want to?" asked Harry.

"Learn or don't learn. I makes no difference to me. But you will be here when asked, even if it's just to clean out soiled cauldrons."

Harry started to object, but Snape cut him off.

"Just listen to me," he said. He didn't raise his voice. He didn't sound angry. "Professor Dumbledore can't emphasize the importance of learning Occlumency enough It's his desire for you to master it."

"If that's true," said Harry, slowly, "then why are you making it so difficult to learn?"

Snape snorted and curled his lip into a condescending smirk.

"Yes, Potter, I am the reason you can't learn a skill that requires constant concentration and practice."

"You know what I mean."

"Do I?"

"You should!" Harry tried to stay calm, but the anger that had been bubbling for the last few days was threatening to burst forth. He took a breath. "From the day I started Hogwarts, you've taken the fact of who my parents were and held it against me. I've never been given a fair shot by you."

Snape didn't speak right away. Harry waiting for more condescension, or even anger, but Snape looked at him with a strange expression that he couldn't interpret.

"You're right," he said finally.

"What?"

"Don't make me admit it again, Potter."

They just stared at each other for a moment, neither one believing how candid they had just been.

"Why did you do it?" Harry blurted. At that, Snape did avoided his eye. At least the man could feel shame. "You could have turned around. You could have made an excuse and left. No one would have known it was you. But instead… you stayed. You tricked her. You tricked my mother, and then you… you…"

"I know," Snape said through clenched teeth.

"No, I don't think you do know," said Harry. Anger won over and he was on his feet again. Snape looked up at him, startled. "You raped her."

All the color that had been building in Snape's face drained, and Harry could see just what affect that word had on him. Perhaps he had never considered it, or maybe he just didn't want to admit it to himself. But he felt a duty to his mother to confront him with his wrongs.

"There's no one left who knows what you did," he continued, his voice softening. The hard lump in his throat made it difficult to speak. "No one left to answer to. Except me. So answer my question."

Harry watched as Snape's gaze feel away from his own, the muscles in his jaw clenching and unclenching.

"Answer me!"

Snape's eyes flashed, and Harry thought he would attack him again, but he didn't. He just slumped back into his chair and cradled his forehead in one hand.

"I don't know."

"Was it to spite my father?" asked Harry. "Because you hated my parents?"

"No."

Harry made a disbelieving sound in his throat.

"No, you're right. I hated James Potter." he said. "I will not pretend otherwise. But I did not hate your mother. We were friends, of a sort, a long time ago."

That caught Harry off guard. "Then why?"

"I've already answered you," he said, his voice starting to gain the dangerous calm that make the hair on Harry's neck prickle. "I'm not avoiding your question. I don't know why, and I've lived with it for 15 years."

"Oh, yes, you've lived with it. Bully for you."

"Careful, Potter," Snape hissed. "I'm indulging these questions, but I will not indulge your disrespect."

"It's the absolute least of what you deserve," he spat back. Harry watched Snape's pale, thin fingers flex into fists.

"I think that's enough for today," he said. He unclenched his fists and laid them flat on the desk.

"Fine," said Harry, turning to leave.

"You'll come back here, same time, next week. And I expect you to practice every night between now and then."

Harry gave a curt nod, and left.

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