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.


The sun blazed high above him in a cloudless blue sky, burning the back of his neck as Harry worked in the backyard. He sighed, taking a moment to wipe the sweat dripping down his forehead with the back of his hand before continuing to pull the last of the overgrown weeds from Aunt Petunia's garden. He didn't want anything more than to just rest underneath the cool shade of the tree for a while.

It wasn't the first day of the summer so far in which Harry had been working endlessly since dawn. Tonight, the Dursleys were hosting a grand dinner party, and of course, Harry was ordered to "make himself somewhat useful" with a long list of chores to finish before the guests arrived. Everything from cleaning the entire house to mowing the lawn to also cooking most of the extravagant dinner was on that list.

This week alone, he'd lost count of how many times he had been lectured by Uncle Vernon about the importance of this event.

"This dinner party could promote me to the job that I so rightfully deserve," he had proclaimed, before turning to Harry and pointing a chubby finger at him, "And you better not mess this one up boy I'm warning you. Any freaky business, any at all, and you will wish you had never been born."

Harry could care less about this dinner party, but decided to keep his head down and do whatever he was told, not wanting to experience another one of his uncle's punishments. He'd found out from an early age that he better do what they wanted because Uncle Vernon always followed through with his threats. So the entire house had already been thoroughly cleaned, the garden bench and fence had been repainted, and the lawn had been mowed twice this week. But it seemed no matter how hard he tried, it was never up to the standard that Aunt Petunia wanted— which was a standard no one could ever reach, especially not Harry. She had even made a fuss over a speck of dust Harry had apparently missed while cleaning this morning, which was rather ridiculous if you asked him, considering they were in parts of the house that the guests would never even see.

Though Harry really didn't mind the chores much, at least they helped take his mind off of things. It was definitely a better alternative than being locked in his room all day, nothing to do except stare up at the dull ceiling with his thoughts left to wander. 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 everything was over. He was Harry's last hope to get away from this dreadful place and finally have a chance to experience what having his own family was like.

He had always wondered what it would be like to have a family or someone he could go to with his problems that would love him unconditionally and support him through thick and thin. Especially now, since stupid prophecy deemed him to be the one who was destined to somehow defeat Voldemort.

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

He knew 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 all right... but it wasn't, and he could never wake up from it.

Ever since he returned to Privet Drive, Harry had tried to avoid his relatives as much as possible and hoped they would leave him be as well, but that left him feeling more alone than ever. There just wasn't anybody he could talk to and 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.

The Weasleys seemed to have always accepted him as part of their family, but Harry didn't want to intrude or get too close, because they were Ron's family. They only cared about him because he was Ron's friend.

"Boy! Get in here!" Aunt Petunia's voice called sharply, breaking Harry out of his distracted thoughts.

Harry plucked the last weed from the garden and then quickly dusted himself off, getting rid of any excess dirt from his jeans before he gladly moved into the shade of the neat kitchen.

"Start preparing the dinner, and try not to burn anything," Aunt Petunia ordered, briefly gestured at the counter. "Don't touch anything until you've washed your hands first!" She hissed, eyeing him with disgust before turning back to the rather large cake she was decorating.

"Yes, Aunt Petunia."

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 came waddling into the kitchen a few moments later, dressed in a dinner jacket and bowtie. He briefly scrutinized Harry's work before shoving a set of clothes into his 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 Harry looked him up and down.

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 leave the room.

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," he hissed, 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 were waiting on the counter.

"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— no crazy house elf visiting him this time, unlike the one before his second year.

When it was time to bring out the cake that Aunt Petunia had baked for dessert, Harry carefully lifted the cake and slowly headed towards the table. He was so focused on trying not to drop it that he failed to notice Dudley's foot sticking out from underneath 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 cake and colorful frosting as yelps and screams were heard from all around the large table.

Harry stood frozen, watching the scene play out with increasing horror.

I'm so dead

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

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

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 Harry thought Uncle Vernon was surely 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've really done it now, boy. You purposefully ruined my dinner party!" Uncle Vernon shouted, his face terribly close to Harry's as it turned an unpleasant shade of red.

"No! I swear I didn't me—"

"I'm going to teach you a lesson you will never forget," Uncle Vernon cut him off, bearing down on him with his teeth bared and a mad gleam in his eyes.

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

"No please, I-I'm sorry, Un-uncle Vernon. I really 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 roared, beginning to swing the belt, each strike seemingly 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— an important opportunity for me to get promoted!"

Harry tried to not to make any noise, but he couldn't keep in a sharp breath every time the belt buckle made contact with 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. 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!"

It went on for what felt like an eternity. His lip was now bloody from his constant biting on it, in an attempt to hold in his screams. It was just becoming too much to bear when Uncle Vernon abruptly stopped and stood there for a moment, glaring down at Harry and panting heavily from the exertion.

"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. "And don't think we're done just yet boy, I'll be back to finish this." With that, he left the room, slamming the door behind him. Harry could hear the sounds of the many locks on his door clicking into place a second later.

After hearing the last of Uncle Vernon's heavy footfalls receding, Harry attempted to get up off the hard floor, but quickly decided against it. 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.

The tears he'd been resolutely holding back were now silently streaming down his face as Uncle Vernon's words 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 continued to swirl around his mind, until his eyelids began to feel heavy and he let them fall shut, the exhaustion from the day settling in, and it wasn't long before sleep claimed him.


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

Harry jolted awake and flinched when a pair of 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. 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 be quiet, 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. He was forcibly turned around so that his back was now facing Uncle Vernon and that whip. Harry had a hard time standing still, his whole body trembling uncontrollably.

"Don't even bother making a sound boy, no one will care about you anyway," Uncle Vernon said before swinging hard across Harry's already torn up back. This time, he couldn't hold back the agonized scream that escaped past his lips. 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.

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.