Hello everyone! I've never written a fanfic before and decided to give it a try, but I absolutely love reading them. It's fun to take these characters and put them into new situations and seeing what would happen. I love stories where Snape turns out to be Harry's father, but what if Snape already has a son that he just found out about a few months before Harry? I got inspired to do a sibling story but with a kind of twisted way as you will soon find out. Hope you read and enjoy!

Things to note: Harry is more abused than in canon so he's more broken over Sirius' death. I wanted a Harry who was more willing to accept that Snape was his father and his want for a family to be greater. Snape might be a little OOC later on because he's a father.

Disclaimer: I own nothing, the world and all characters except my originals belong to J.K Rowling.

Warnings: Abuse scenes in this chapter, nothing too graphic.

It wasn't the first exhausting day of this summer so far that Harry had been working nonstop since dawn. The Dursleys were hosting a grand dinner party tonight and Harry was forced to do all the chores in preparation for it. The list included: cleaning the house, weeding the garden, and cooking the extravagant dinner for all the guests and the Dursleys.

This week alone, he had lost count of how many times he was lectured by Uncle Vernon about the importance of this event. As announced by Uncle Vernon, "This dinner party could promote me to the job that I so rightfully deserve." Also said was, "You better not mess this up boy, I'm warning you. Any freaky business and you will wish that you had never been born."

Harry didn't care at all for the dinner party, but he kept his head down and did whatever he was told. From an early age, he had known that he better do what they said because Uncle Vernon always followed through with his threats.

So the entire house had already been thoroughly cleaned, the garden was weed free, and the lawn had been mowed twice this week. But no matter how hard Harry tried, it was never up to the standard that Aunt Petunia wanted. Which was a standard that no one could ever reach, especially Harry. Not so much as a speck of dust could be left on any of the furniture in the house, even in the parts of the house that the guests would never see.

He didn't really mind the chores as they helped take his mind off of things. It was definitely a better alternative than being locked in his room all day, left with nothing to do. Somehow his mind was always drawn back to the terrible end of his fifth year at Hogwarts.

The thought of not being able to see Sirius, or that big black dog, or never receiving a letter from Snuffles again almost overwhelmed him with grief. They were supposed to become a family, when this was all over. He was Harry's last hope to get away from the Dursleys and to finally have a chance to experience what having his own family was like. The Weasley's have always accepted him as part of their family, but they were Ron's family. They only cared about him because he was Ron's friend. He had always wanted what Ron and Hermione had. A family that would love him unconditionally and support him through thick and thin. Especially what he had to go through now because he was the so called prophesied child destined to defeat Voldemort: the Boy-Who-Lived.

But that chance had drifted away like smoke slipping through his fingers and disappearing into the air, just like Sirius falling through the veil and never being seen again.

Of course, he had to get another person killed because of his reckless actions.

Harry didn't know how he could forgive himself for that. Or if he would ever forgive himself.

It was all his fault. How could he have been so stupid? If only he had really focused and learned Occlumency, he would have realized that the vision was sent by Voldemort. Then that whole incident wouldn't have happened, and he wouldn't have lead Sirius to his death.

Sometimes he wished that it was just another awful nightmare he was going to wake up from and everything would be alright. But it wasn't and he would never wake up from it.

Ever since he returned to Privet Drive, Harry tried to stay out of their way and hoped that they would stay out of his too. He got what he wanted, but it left him feeling more alone than ever. There just wasn't anybody he could talk to because nobody cared. None of his friends knew what it was like to lose a family member or watch someone die right before your eyes and being helpless to do anything about it.

Shaking his head to clear it of it's dark thoughts, Harry refocused his attention back to the task of cooking the elaborate dinner for the party. Once he finished preparing all the food, Harry got all the food ready to be served, cleaned the kitchen, and set the dining table.

Uncle Vernon had come waddling into the kitchen a few moments later, briefly scrutinized his work before shoving a set of clothes into Harry's hands.

"Get changed boy, and look presentable. I will not have you looking like a street urchin at my dinner party," Uncle Vernon said as he looked him up and down with disgust.

Harry was going to point out that these clothes were just slightly better than Dudley's old castoffs that they always made him wear, but thought better of it. Instead he quietly replied with, "Yes, Uncle Vernon," before he turned to go change.

He was stopped by a beefy hand grabbing onto his overlarge shirt front as Uncle Vernon whispered harshly into his ear, "Oh, and one more thing boy, I don't want any funny business happening when my guests are here. You understand?"

"Y-yes Uncle."

"You better," the overweight man said threatenly as he roughly released him.

The guests started arriving as soon as Harry had finished changing. Uncle Vernon was at the door with Dudley greeting every guests and welcoming them into their lovely home. Meanwhile Aunt Petunia was busily checking every food item that was prepared in the kitchen.

"Boy, take these to the dining room," Aunt Petunia's shrill voice demanded as she pointed to the platters of food that Harry had taken many hours to tediously prepare that day.

"Yes, Aunt Petunia," Harry obediently replied.

Once the guests were all seated around the large table, Harry retreated into the kitchen and was set to act as their waiter throughout the dinner. Everything was going smoothly and Harry thought he was actually going to make it through this one. Unlike the one before his second year, that had been a disaster.

Now it was time to bring out the cake that Aunt Petunia had made for dessert. Harry carefully lifted the cake and slowly headed towards the table. He was so focused on trying not to drop the cake that he failed to notice Dudley's foot sticking out from under the table. The cake went flying as Harry fell forward and unsuccessfully tried to catch himself. It managed to hit three of the guests, covering them in clumps of the cake and colorful frosting. Yelps and screams were soon heard from all around the large table.

Harry froze, watching the scene play out with increasing horror. Oh no.

"Nice going Potter! You ruined some perfectly good cake!" Dudley whined as he glared at Harry.

"I'm so sorry! I promise you I'm going to take care of this," Uncle Vernon hurriedly apologized to the three guests as Aunt Petunia hurried into the kitchen to retrieve a towel for each of them.

Before Harry knew it, Uncle Vernon's large meaty hand had a tight hold on his ear and he was being dragged forcefully up to his room. The grip was so tight that Harry thought Uncle Vernon was going to pull his ear off.

When they got to his room, Uncle Vernon shoved Harry in and closed the door behind them with a resounding slam.

"You have really done it now boy. You ruined my dinner party!" Uncle Vernon shouted, pointing a chubby finger at Harry as his face turned an unpleasant shade of red. "I'm going to teach you a lesson you will never forget."

He undid his belt buckle and removed it from around his wide waist.

"No please, I-I'm sorry, Un-uncle Vernon. I didn't mean to, it was an a-accident." Harry immediately staggered back as far away as possible and tried apologizing even though he knew it wasn't going to help deter Uncle Vernon's anger.

"You ungrateful little freak!" Uncle Vernon started ranting as the belt rained down on Harry, each strike was harder than the last. "We give you a roof over your head, food, and the clothes off our Dudley's back and this is how you repay us?! By ruining my dinner party and an important opportunity for me to get promoted!"

Harry tried to not to make any noise through the vicious beating, but he couldn't keep in a sharp breath as the belt buckle tore into the skin on his back. He had known from a young age that crying never helped lessen the beating, especially when there wasn't anyone around to stop them. When he received his first beating at seven years old, he pathetically cried for Aunt Petunia's help, stupidly believing that she would do something. That only resulted in Harry receiving harder hits and left him locked in his cupboard for a week, too hurt to move.

The pain soon became too much to bear and he crumpled to the floor as his legs gave out. Tears started to pool in his eyes, ready to stream down his face, but he kept them from falling.

"Nothing but a nuisance. You are a burden to my family!" Uncle Vernon went on, "Should have died along with your no good freaky parents. Would have done us all a favor!"

The beating went on for what seemed like an eternity to Harry. His lip was bloody from him biting on it to keep from screaming his pain. He was just about to cry out from the pain when Uncle Vernon stopped and just stood there for a moment, glaring down at Harry. The heavyset man was panting heavily from the exertion of punishing his nephew.

"Nothing but trouble, you no good useless freak! You know you deserve this punishment!" Uncle Vernon said as he hurriedly put his belt back on. "Don't think we are done just yet boy, I'll be back to finish this." With that he left the room, slamming the door behind him and locking all the locks.

After Uncle Vernon had left and apparently returned to his guests, Harry stayed curled up on the floor. His whole body, especially his back, felt like it was on fire and any move he tried to make would send a burst of pain coursing through his body.

Harry now let the tears fall and soon they were silently streaming down his face. The words that Uncle Vernon had said throughout the beating were still reverberating through his head.

Somewhere in a corner of his mind, he agreed with all that was said.

He was unwanted, unloved, ungrateful, a freak, a burden.

I don't deserve to be loved. I get people killed.

Many thoughts were swirling around in his head as he shut his eyes. The exhaustion from the day had settled in and sleep finally claimed him.

"WAKE UP BOY!" Uncle Vernon shouted at the top of his lungs.

Harry jolted awake and flinched when Uncle Vernon's meaty hands roughly grabbed his arm and slammed him against the wall. The impact caused the dried up wounds on his back to reopen and Harry let out a sharp gasp at the pain. It had probably been a few hours since the last beating and Uncle Vernon did say he was going to come back to finish this. Though two beatings in one day was very rare. Tonight must have been very important if Uncle Vernon was putting in the effort to punish him twice. Usually he would just punish Harry and then locked him in his room for the rest of the day with no food.

"Stand there and shut up, boy!" Uncle Vernon demanded, the round red face was uncomfortably close to his. He could almost feel the spittle that was flying from the man's mouth. Then a large hand forcibly turned him around, his back was now facing Uncle Vernon and that whip. Harry had a hard time standing still as his whole body seemed to be trembling uncontrollably. "Don't even bother making a sound boy, no one will care about you anyway." Getting the whip in position, Uncle Vernon swung hard across his already torn up back. Harry couldn't hold back an agonized scream. The slashes with the whip were always worse than the belt.

After a few strikes with the whip, Harry's legs started to give out, causing him to collapse into a heap on the floor. Uncle Vernon didn't miss a beat as he continued to whip Harry, the hits never losing the force behind them. When it seemed he had grown tired of using the whip, Uncle Vernon moved on to kicking and punching him instead. His attempts at rolling and squirming out of the way were useless. One especially well placed kick in the ribs knocked the wind out of him and caused him to cough violently. He almost passed out from the pain of it.

"That's what you deserve freak!" Uncle Vernon yelled breathlessly, giving one more extra hard kick to his ribs for good measure before exiting the room and shutting the door behind him with a slam that caused the walls to slightly vibrate. A few seconds later, Harry heard the clicking of the locks being turned and footsteps receding before everything fell silent.

Harry just laid on the floor panting heavily, too injured to move and not really caring anyway. He knew that he had at least two broken ribs from those kicks and his back probably didn't look too good either. His lip was bloody and puffy from him trying to prevent the screams from escaping.

Maybe he's right. I deserve to get punished, I get people killed. Look what happened to Sirius... and Cedric, and Mum and Dad.

Now more than ever, Harry wished he was with his family and that there was someone... anyone who would care.

Not about the Boy-Who-Lived, or the savior of the wizarding world, but about Harry.

Just Harry.

One person who could love him, care about him, and want him.

Was that too much to ask for?

Harry gave a sad sigh, trying unsuccessfully to push those thoughts out of his mind.

Maybe I should just kill myself off now, I could be with Sirius, Mum, Dad, and all my other relatives that I've never met.

It would certainly put him out of his misery and there would be no more pain.

Then who would defeat Voldemort? Could he leave his friends here with a madman still on the loose if he had the power to put an end to it?

He wasn't sure about that.

But Voldemort had killed his parents, and he was the one who made his life this way. If anything, he was going to finish this war for his parents because they sacrificed so much for him.

They sacrificed their lives for him.

He would do it to honor their sacrifices and hopefully make them proud.

By the way his life was going right now though, Harry didn't know how much more he could handle before he broke into a million pieces that couldn't be put back together.

He was sick of being the Boy Who Lived, all that people seemed to notice was the celebrity side of him. Nobody seemed to really understand what he was going through or what he had already gone through.

His friends did mean a lot to him and he was forever grateful to have had them by his side during all those difficult times, but they have each other and their families, so he wouldn't be missed too much right?

His thoughts ended there as he finally welcomed the darkness that overcame him.