“Now Severus-”

“No. Horatius may be a great actor, but I am no fool in underestimating his attachment to that pathetic excuse of a man.” He paused, glaring at the Headmaster, “Do not smile old man, he still meant what he said and I intend to fully support him on that.”

The Headmaster’s twinkle vanished, his faint smile washing off like soap in warm water.

“More like push him into it.”

“You, Lupin, have no more right to interfere in Horatius’ life than that mutt. As far as I am concerned, Black never had a godson… and unless by some miracle Horatius asks it of me, he never will. That chance he lost by running like the spineless coward he is- Great Gryffindor indeed!” Severus spat, venom in his words.

            Horris’ eyes focused on the fireplace, silently wondering where Sirius was. He was still mad, even more so after finding out that Sirius had run out of the office and out of the castle as soon as he learned the truth (or figured it out, whichever). From what Horris could gather, since he was not about to ask Dumbledore or Lupin, the latter had, eventually, found Sirius and the former had sent him on some new mission, task, whatever. In all honesty, Horris was disappointed in his behavior, though he himself didn’t know what he had expected… ‘sorry’ perhaps. ‘love you anyway’? No, that wouldn’t do, it would either be fake or far too much to ask for. Horris only half-consciously made the wand a test but Sirius failed, big time. 

            “Note, you still didn’t deny it.” Remus reminded, pulling the conversation back to his previous accusation.

“What would be the point, Lupin?” His father countered sharply, “What would possibly sway your mind?”

“So you rather we believe you’re a manipulative Death Eater?”

“Your opinion of me is worthless Lupin, I assure you. Furthermore, I doubt Horatius would be far distraught to find you believing him of so weak a will.”

“What you fail to rea-”

“What you fail to realize is that Horatius is my son.” Severus cut the old man off, “Not your weapon, not a convenient hero to rid this world of Voldemort, not a rally point, not a predestined martyr but my son. He has been to hell and back, lived through things that would have surely killed anyone else, and had seen things I would not wish on any child, adult or otherwise… he does not need either of you to add to his problems. Using Black the way you did was despicable Albus, this conversation is over.”

            Horris trotted to the door, hoping to be able to slip out after his father without anyone noticing, a slim smirk playing on his face. Dumbledore’s expression was priceless to say the least, not to mention Remus’! He thanked Merlin his father had not decided to ceremoniously slam the door behind him,

That would be painful Horris noted, rubbing his nose. He was about half-way past the man and about to make a bee line to the Slytherin dorms when his father caught him by the collar. Only one word echoed in his mind as he figured throwing off his invisibility would be a very prudent course of action;

Busted.

~*∞*~

            “This is most unfortunate…” The Headmaster sighed.

“What is, sir?”

“This situation, Remus my boy, this entire state of affairs is clearly out of hand.”

“Do you believe Severus really is controlling him?”

Dumbledore actually chuckled, “I wish it mattered what I thought…Alas, all that matters now is what young Horatius thinks.”

The man sat down, rubbing the bridge of his nose. Remus noted how tired he looked, how old.

“I shall be frank with you, my boy, Horris doubting his father may be our only chance now… otherwise he is gone. I must admit, was Voldemort to invade Hogwarts now, I know not who’s side the boy would stand on.”

“Surely you don’t think he’d…”

“As of late, Remus, I cannot be sure of anything. What is worse, if the said scenario were to occur, whichever side he stood on would undoubtedly be victorious.”

“But-”

“I had high hopes for him, truly I did… I had thought he would take my place someday.”

Remus forced a smile, “We all did sir, especially Sirius and I.”

“I thought it would be you at first my boy, I do believe I had more sense back then…”

Now that surprised Remus, Dumbledore had thought that he would take over?

“You always were bright Remus; clever and with a good heart yet you rarely allowed your emotions to rule you.”

            “I’m getting old Remus,” Dumbledore continued, absently stroking his phoenix, “I can feel it in my very bones.”

“You can’t die headmaster…” Remus encouraged, the man’s death truly seeming impossible.

“Phoenixes are immortal Remus, yet they can die…”

Just then, as if in slow motion, Remus watched Fawkes lose a tail feather, a gray one that sharply contrasted the rest of his fiery plumage. Phoenix feathers were never gray; rarely were they yellow or blue, but never, never gray.

“You and Fawkes are bonded?”

“Clever as ever…” The headmaster confirmed, nodding, “I am over five hundred years old Remus, I will not live to see another war child, I can only hope to live long enough to see peace rule once again… you were my first and apparently best choice for a successor Remus, I only wish my views had not been so skewed.”

“I cannot succeed you sir.” Remus pointed out gently, the words almost painful to say. He had never seen Dumbledore this vulnerable… this helpless.

“Yes you can Remus, yes you can.”

“But my Lycanthropy-”

“A phoenix cannot become ill Remus, he would cure you as soon you bonded. Phoenix bonds are rare and powerful, I have yet to encounter powerful enough to kill me.”

“But-”

“I cannot handle all this anymore Remus, I need help; I need you. Horris is turning out to be far more than any of us imagined, now with the prophecy…” Dumbledore broke off, turning to Remus, “I need to tell you what I have never revealed to anyone Remus, you must understand everything… Voldemort, as cunning and powerful as he is, has never had the imagination to think up something as powerful and ingenious as his Aspidis. Instead, he used the journal of Zegbar.”

“The ancient warlord?” Remus asked, amazed at the name, “Zegbar was a wizard?”

“A warlock actually, far more powerful, if you remember the power stages professor O’Faron drilled into you sixth year… ”

Remus nodded, remembering the lecture quite clearly. Wizards were most common, using power-stabilizing wands, words and gestures. Sorcerers were just slightly more powerful, using a non-stabilizing staff, longer incantations and broader gestures. Warlocks used only incantations and subtle gestures and Wiccans use no words and only the subtlest movements for the more powerful spells. Highest on the power scale were Mages who used no words or gestures for even the most draining spells. It was far more complicated than that, involving magic signatures and other subtler differences, but the details escaped him.

“Yes, well, Voldemort adjusted Zegbar’s creations to suit his purposes. The notes state how certain things may be infused, like the venoms, so the process did not require too much imagination him his part. Voldemort found the prospect of such children the perfect solution, a weapon against your enemies and an heir to pass on your legacy… unfortunately, so did the order.”

“The Order? I don’t-”

“Remember?” Dumbledore supplied, “Of course not! We all agreed only one person should be allowed to remember it to avoid possible leaks… if Peter had known-” He let the sentence hang, “We made our own child, just one, to fight Voldemort. However, we did so differently. We gave the potion to the mother, thus locking the child’s powers until they were needed. We had hoped they would not be, so we made sure that they would only show themselves when we woke them.”

“How do you release them?”

“In due time, Remus, you’ll know in due time.” Dumbledore promised.

            “That child was Harry, wasn’t it?”

“Yes, thus you all subconsciously knew he was to be my successor.”

“And his powers are still locked?”

“Thankfully they are. I would have let them out long ago and taken him under my wing if not for Voldemort. Somehow, the curse he fired at him as a baby warped the ‘lock’ we placed on him, until that scar disappears they cannot be activated.”

“Will it ever?” Remus asked, quite overwhelmed by the information.

“It almost has. The illusion of Harry Potter retained the mark in scar form, which was what worried me most. If that had really become a scar his powers would be, frankly, lost forever. If I had known it would fade, I would have likely kept him out of Hogwarts, training him myself. The mark is nearly invisible now, by his graduation it ought to disappear altogether.”

“What powers will he get sir?”

“Zegbar left ways to infuse different things but he cautioned that the effects can never be predicted. All the Asps have the same powers because the potions the fathers received came from one batch, to which things were added for the beta, then alpha. If Voldemort was to make that exact potion again today and repeat the procedure, the children resulting would most likely have far different ‘gifts’ than the present Asps. We know what we wanted our child to have, we do not know what he received.”

~*∞*~

            Horris, now visible, solemnly followed in his father’s wake. Nope, ‘listening in’ on Dumbledore’s meeting with his father had not been a good idea. The list of punishments his father could administer suddenly seemed infinite and his excuses non-existent. Curiosity may have killed the cat, but it seemed that it will get Horris skinned. His father had not been happy when he left the headmaster’s office (with good reason), and Horris doubted the man’s mood had since improved.

“Sit.” His father ordered, seated in his desk chair already.

“I’m sorry, sir.” Horris apologized, still standing.

“For?”

“Listening in sir.”

“No.” His father replied sternly.

“No?”

“You are sorry for getting caught… sit.” He repeated, Horris complying instantly this time.  What does one say to something like that? Horris could just see it, he was in trouble, big trouble.

            “Care to explain yourself?” Severus asked, finding the situation quite amusing (and hiding it extremely well). It was not often he had an opportunity to see Horatius openly nervous and he was going to enjoy the look on the child’s face when-

“I hate when people talk about me behind my back.”

“That is no excuse,” dramatic pause, “now, do you have a valid reason or not?” The pregnant silence seemed unnaturally long,

“I do not, sir.” The boy responded, a look of utter despair. Severus fought down a smirk,

“Admit then that you were sloppy.” He reasoned.

“Sloppy?” Horris echoed in total puzzlement.

“You were caught, were you not?”

“Yes sir.”

“So, what have you learned?” He asked, turning on the lecture tone he always used in class. This was, after all, an extremely important lesson.

“Not to listen in sir?”

“Is that so?”

“Yes sir.”

“Do you possess a more efficient way to gain information?”

“No sir.”

“So you shall discard your best, if not only, means of acquiring information because of a slip?” Severus deduced, enjoying the look of utter confusion on his son’s face.

“Sir?”

            “Do I look like Dumbledore boy?”

“No sir.”

“Then refrain from treating me as suck… what do I do for Dumbledore?”

“Teach…”

“And?”

“Spy.”

“Correct, five points to Slytherin. Now, why would one spy castigate another?”

“He was on the other side sir?”

“Any other reasons?”

“I… I don’t know sir.”

“Assuming you are not on the ‘other side’, neither do I.”

“You don’t?”

“I do not.” Severus confirmed, leaning over his desk, “I do, however, detest sloppiness.”

The small smile on Horatius’ face vanished in an instant.

“You may do whatever you want, within reason, I do not mind. Frankly, I believe you have lived through enough and are responsible enough to determine what you may and may not do. If you are caught however, I can promise to only add to whatever punishment whomever apprehended you assigned. Is that clear?”

“Crystal.”

Severus smirked, leaning back in his chair. “Now, let us discuss that woeful example of espionage… did you honestly believe I would fail to detect you?”

“No sir.”

“Good. I do not expect perfection, at first, but any more amateur mistakes and I shall personally reveal you to whomever else I see in the room- understood?”

“Yes sir.”

            “Firstly; a good spy enters first, leaves last and never moves while there is anyone in the room. Also, all spies are taught to read auras; magic-based aids only reveal your position that much quicker. The soundless and weightless spells you used are like alarms to experienced spies. Your invisibility venom seems acceptable, but do practice walking silently before attempting another such stunt. A true pity you have no experience, they are too weary of me but what they are presently discussing I would wager to be extremely important.”

            Horatius Ferox Snape, the great Alpha, sat with his mouth only slightly agape as he stared, baffled, at his father. The man was not mad, he wasn’t disappointed, he wasn’t appalled. The situation had turned from serious to odd, to strange, to bizarre. He wasn’t even sure whether he ought thank his lucky stars or yell to Merlin for help… this was just too much.

“Uh, Dad?” He asked carefully, knowing he was getting dangerously close to the maximum number of ‘sir’s he could use before his father got ticked… the man always associated it with the way Horris addressed Dumbledore. True, he never said anything, but Horris could tell he disliked it. He used it automatically when unsure of the situation, but now…

“Yes?”

“Do you want me to learn to spy?”

“Only if you wish to.” His father answered, nodding, “I will not allow spying as a permanent profession, but it does often prove a helpful skill that I am perfectly content with teaching you. After all, it is a family tradition of sorts…”

“Were many Snapes spies?”

“We were the best, son, so good none knew it. I do believe the tradition has spanned several centuries…”