Harry Potter's Real Dad

Severus left Harry in the bathroom, shutting the door behind him and moving to his study. He picked up the other pictures thrown on his desk and set them back in his drawer. He paused as he stared at the one of Lily holding a baby Harry. Her son truly did look like her. And James. And himself at that. He frowned as he put the picture away and stared at the framed photo on his desk. The child in his bathroom did not look like this healthy boy in the photo.

For the first time, the thought that the photos of his child were manipulated crossed his mind, and he felt his heart twist. He should have checked up on Harry himself. He shouldn't have trusted the headmaster unquestionably when they decided to leave Harry with his relatives, hoping he would have the best chance at happiness there.

His decision on that had not been an easy one. When Lily and James had been murdered, he had been going through the grief of losing a very close friend, as well as a breakup with his girlfriend at the time, and a custody battle that quickly followed. He did not believe he would be able to care for two toddlers on his own, and he accepted Albus Dumbledore's idea of leaving Harry at another blood relatives. Albus had agreed to secretly capture some pictures of Harry when he could for Severus.

And now, the truth was too much for him. His son was a chimney sweep. How could Petunia stoop so low as to bring back an archaic torture? With his child nonetheless. He knew he had some explaining to do to Harry, and all in good time. Right now, he had to clean the boy up and feed him.

And somehow convince him to stay. He wasn't sure why Harry thought going back to his aunt was at all a good idea. Perhaps there was some kind of attachment he was missing. He could dwell on that later. He should find the boy some clothes. Severus set the picture frame down and glanced up. He nearly had a heart attack at the sight of Harry standing in his doorway wrapped in a towel.

"What are you doing?" Severus asked.

"I'm all done."

"You're done?" Severus looked at a clock in his study. "It's been less than five minutes."

"I only have ten minutes."

Severus snorted.

"Son, we're going to need a lot more than ten minutes to clean you up." Severus sighed and walked around his desk and over to Harry. "Come on. Let's go take a real bath, all right?"

Harry tilted his head but followed Severus back to the bathroom. He watched as Severus refilled the tub and added more bubbles to it, checking the heat of the water as he waited for it to finish filling. Once the tub was ready, Severus rolled up his sleeves and sat on the edge of the tub.

"In you go."

"But I'm all done."

"Not quite. Come on, get in."

Harry slowly stepped in the tub, allowing Severus to take the towel from him as he did. He frowned as he sat down in the water, watching Severus pick up a bar of soap and lather up a washcloth. Then, he began gently scrubbing Harry's shoulders and back. Harry could never reach back there, so he usually just focused on what he could reach. It felt kind of nice having someone rub his back for him. He looked up at Severus and asked:

"Are you my real dad?"

Severus hesitated, meeting Harry's eyes before saying, "Yes."

"What about . . . err James?"

"He is your real dad, too. He blood adopted you as a baby."

"What's that mean?"

"It's an old ritual. You two shared blood and that is why you have some of his looks. You also have your mother's eyes, and some of my looks. I quite like it actually."

Severus moved on to Harry's arms, scrubbing as rough as he was willing to while remaining gentle.

"Were you married to my mummy?"

"No. We were very close friends, though. I loved her very much. But she was also falling in love with James at the same time she was with me. After our . . . little fling, she decided James was the one, and we agreed that we would let James blood adopt our baby—you—and I would be your godfather, so I could still see you. At that time, I was also falling in love more with Dahlia, Iris's mother."

"Are you married?"

"No. Dahlia and I broke up a few years ago."

"Oh. So where's Dahlia?"

"At her own place. Iris visits her on a weekend once a month and on two holidays."

"Why?"

"Cause that's what we agreed on in court. Now, enough about me, how about you. Tell me about your . . . cupboard."

"I'm not supposed to talk about it."

"Why not?"

Harry shrugged as he lifted a leg slightly while Severus scrubbed away at it.

"Okay, how about chimney sweeping? Do you enjoy that?"

"It's hard but it makes Aunt Petunia happy, so I like it."

"Do you?" Severus mused, as he tickled Harry's feet slightly with the washcloth, earning a small laugh. "What else do you like to do?"