A/N: I was asked by a reviewer about the Latin translations. I've provided them below. Also, I corrected one of the spells to say what I wanted it to say.


"H…he's my son," Severus murmured, the letter in his hand falling to the floor. "I would never have known, if the letter hadn't have been sent to me anonymously. I will need to thank her for her help." Bending, Lucius picked up the missive, eyebrows permanently in his hairline as he read:

Snape, you unmitigated bastard;

I know that this will come as a shock to you; it certainly was to me. Harry is your son. He was conceived the night you raped me in front of your precious Dark Lord. When I was finally released, I went home and made love to my husband, to erase the feel of you from my skin and body. I grit my teeth the entire time, and wouldn't let James touch me again. That, too, is your fault. Nine months later, Harry was born, and he looked so much like James and I that I was relieved. After all I had been through, to know that my son wouldn't be blemished by your filthy blood was a blessing.

Unfortunately, the routine blood tests at his first well-baby appointment told the bitter truth. He is your son. When we went into hiding, I wanted desperately to let someone else bear the responsibility for protecting the 'prophecy child'. I didn't want the spawn of my rapist anywhere near me. But then, Sirius volunteered to switch places with Pettigrew as secret keeper, and I saw my way out of it. Yes, I knew Pettigrew was one of his. I happened to see his Dark Mark by accident one day, and began to plot from that moment on.

So I will ensure that we are home when your Dark Lord comes calling, and I will make sure to step out of the way when he's set to kill the abomination. If I can save my life, and be free of both you and James, I will be a happy woman. I hope you can live with the thought that, because of your actions, you've condemned that thing to death. You've condemned a good man to death. And you've condemned me to a life of suffering and pain. May you rot in hell, and may your demon spawn burn for eternity for the misery he's caused me.

"I don't understand, Severus," Lucius finally said, confused. "I was led to believe that Potter survived the killing curse because of his mother's love. Here, it emphatically states that her love did nothing for him; that she was willing to sacrifice him to save herself. That she hated the very air he breathed. So if that's the case, how did he survive?"

"I do not know, Lucius," the Potions Master answered sadly. He mourned for the treatment his son had received from birth, and vowed to take him in and protect him from here on out. "I can only speculate, and until I do research, that is all I have. I assume that the Dark magic that ties us to the Dark Lord was somehow passed to my son through blood. We Dark practitioners know how powerful blood magic is, and I can only assume that the magic that binds us to him also protects us from death by his wand. To that end, when my seed impregnated her, it carried some of that Dark magic, and protected my son, as well."

"That's entirely possible Severus. What will you do, now that you know?"

"I will approach the Dark Lord for permission to bring him here and raise him to our ways. He's already suffered at the hands of that bitch's harridan of a sister, and I do not wish him to suffer any longer."

"How do you know where he's at?" Lucius asked, confused.

"Though the letter was sent anonymously, I recognize the handwriting of Mrs. Arabella Figg on the envelope. She's one of Dumbledore's pigeons, and was put in my son's neighborhood to watch over him. Potter's bitch must've given the letter to her, to give to me when the time was right. Probably after the child was murdered and she was safely out of my reach. Something horrible must be happening to my son for Figg to send the letter."

"Very well," Lucius replied, nodding. "You go get your permission, and I will take you to get your son afterward. We will go to the Wizengamot and have his care turned over to you. We will summon a Malfoy family Healer to do the required blood tests, and take the tests and this letter to the Wizengamot as proof."

The insistent pounding on the door startled the occupants. "Boy!" Petunia screeched as she stomped back to the cupboard under the stairs. She flung it open, pointing a rigid finger at the front door. "See who's there and send them away!" She stormed into the kitchen, leaving the six-year-old to crawl out of his cupboard and walk to the door. Standing on his toes, he reached the doorknob and turned it with both hands, tugging and huffing until the heavy door swung open. His eyes widened slightly at the tall dark man and tall blond man standing on the stoop before he bowed his head.

"Please go 'way," the boy murmured softly. "We not 'specting vis'tors." The dark head snapped up as movement from the corner of his eye startled him, and emerald eyes widened, watching with shock as the man in front knelt down before him.

"I'm not a visitor, Harry. I am your father."

"Really and for true?" the boy gasped, tears shimmering in the corners of his eyes.

"Yes. Really and for true. I've come to take you home with me."

"Good riddance," a hugely fat man said from the doorway leading to what looked like a living room. "Never wanted the freak in the first place." Dark eyes narrowed at the slur to his son, and Severus whipped out his wand as he stood, glaring at the fat whale of a muggle.

"If you do not wish to lose your tongue, I would suggest holding it, muggle. Now, Harry," he turned back to the little boy, his wand never wavering from Vernon's face, "go get your things and we can go."

"I don't got nothin'," the boy said sadly, head hanging. Ebon eyes grew frosty at this statement, and Severus turned his attention back to Vernon. Petunia came down the hall at that moment, scowling fiercely.

"Honestly, boy, can't you do anything right?" She raised her arm, hand flat to slap the child, but Vernon dived forward, grabbing her wrist before her hand could connect.

"D…don't, Pet," the fat man said beseechingly, terrified eyes on the Potions Master. "This nice freak was just about to take the boy away for good." Twin growls were ignored as Petunia's eyes turned to Severus, then widened comically.

"You," she spat venomously. "I remember seeing you skulking about our neighborhood. Never thought you were one of them, though. Go on. Take the little beast. Good riddance, I say." She unknowingly mirrored her husband's words, but was oblivious to the rage her slurs had invoked.

"Perussi magis," Severus hissed, pointing his wand at Petunia. Before the spell light had faded from around her form, he pointed it at Vernon, hissing, "Perussi minor." The woman hissed at Severus, and he swiveled his wand back to her.

"Do not make me curse you worse, Petunia," he snarled. "Do not make me curse your spawn, though I would love nothing more than to do it. You would deserve nothing less for your abysmal treatment of MY SON!"

"He most certainly is not your son," she sniffed, rethinking her words. "He is the spawn of my disgusting sister and her good for nothing husband. Animals, the lot of you."

"He is my son, and I have the blood tests to prove it." Severus brandished the medical report, faked to look like it was done by a muggle laboratory that Severus had found in a phone book, and Petunia's eyes widened again.

"So, my sainted sister wasn't as pristine as she'd led everyone else to believe. This is just priceless. Take that thing and get out of my sight. Never darken my doorstep again." She turned back down the hallway, returning to the kitchen.

"Audite recubo ex verum, sentio poena quod dedecus, patior incohare poena," Severus hissed as several beams of light flew from his wand. She never saw the spells cast at her. Vernon saw them, however, and closed his eyes. Can't say she didn't have it coming, he thought, relieved that the freak had stopped pointing its stick at him. Never did know when to keep that acid tongue in check. Ah, well. Nothing for it, I suppose. Still, I don't think their freakishness can affect us all that much. After all, we're not like them. Disgusting animals.

They arrived at the Ministry by portkey. Harry had touched the plastic bottle along with Lucius and Severus, and was now nearly strangling the Potions Master in his fear and discomfort. Severus quickly calmed the child, rubbing soothing circles into his back as they entered the phone booth. Lucius dialed M-A-G-I-C on the keypad, and a friendly voice erupted from the phone.

"Welcome to the Ministry of Magic. Who is visiting, and what is your purpose here?"

"Severus Snape, Lucius Malfoy, and…" Turning to Severus a blond brow quirked. "What is his name, Sev?"

"I was always partial to the name Crispin. Crispin Severus Snape." Nodding, the blond turned back to the phone.

"Severus Snape, Lucius Malfoy, and Crispin Snape. Here to see the Wizengamot."

"Thank you and enjoy your visit." Three name tags popped out of the phone and Lucius took them, handing two to the Snapes as he pinned the third to his cloak. The booth jerked as it lowered into the sidewalk, dropping down into the Atrium, where it opened to allow the three occupants out. Striding quickly, Severus and Lucius stopped at the wand check desk, handing over their wands to be identified. Crispin had buried his face in his father's neck, the long dark hair hiding him from view, and had stayed there.

Patting the boy gently on the back, Severus tightened his hold around his son as they retrieved their wands and strode to the first empty lift. They descended to level two, where the Wizengamot administrative offices were located. Striding down the hall, the men stopped before the door, tapping on it gently before opening it. The receptionist looked up curiously, eyes widening slightly on Malfoy before smiling. "May I help you gentlemen?"

"We are here to speak to a Wizengamot representative about the transfer of care of a child," Lucius explained with a small smile.

"That would be Berrie Navient. She is in office number four."

"Thank you, Miss Dellzole." The men walked to office number four, tapping on the closed door gently.

"Come in," an elderly voice called, and the men walked into the office, closing the door quietly behind them. Turning, they were barely able to hang on to their Slytherin masks. Behind the desk sat, quite possibly, the oldest witch either man had ever seen. She looked to be at least a hundred sixty, with wispy white hair and faded brown eyes. Her smile looked like just another wrinkle in a face creased with them. "What can I do for you gentlemen today?" she asked kindly, her teeth flashing blindingly in the light. Severus stepped forward and sat in the indicated chair. Lucius sat on a sofa along the wall, closer to the door to give a semblance of privacy.

"I'm here to transfer the care of this child from Petunia and Vernon Dursley to myself." Ms. Navient quickly dug out the proper forms and a dictoquill, setting it to the form.

"Why are you requesting the transfer of care?" she asked, sounding very professional and impartial.

"I've recently discovered that he is my son." Severus leaned forward and placed Lily Potter's letter on the woman's desk. She read quickly through it, then gasped and read it again, more slowly. At the venom expressed for the child, she scowled, and her face nearly disappeared in the wrinkles.

"Who placed him with the…the…Dimleys?" A quiet snort from the vicinity of the door had the woman blushing in embarrassment.

"No," Severus gently corrected, voice quivering with laughter. "The Dursleys. And that would be Albus Dumbledore."

"By what authority did he have to place an orphaned child with anyone?" she asked sharply.

"I know not," Severus replied. "All I was told was that he would be placed with his mother's muggle relatives; that he would be safe and protected there under blood wards erected based on his mother's love sacrifice."

"It says here that she was willing to stand aside and let the Dark Lord kill her son. There was no love sacrifice evident. So the child was vulnerable from the moment he was placed there."

"That is correct," Lucius concurred from his perch. "Had the protections taken hold, it would only have kept anyone from the outside from doing him harm. It did nothing to protect him from his relatives."

"What do you mean?" Ms. Navient asked sharply. Crispin flinched at the sound of the angry voice and started trembling. Severus murmured and soothed his son, shooting a telling look to the woman behind the desk. She nodded and softened her tone. "May I speak with him?" At Severus' nod, she smiled, waiting for the Potions Master to turn the child around so she could see his face. "Oh, my," she whispered softly. "He's a beautiful child."

"Thank you, Ms. Navient."

"Well, I'd like to ask you a few questions, if I may, Harry?"

"Before we continue, may I make a request?" Severus interrupted gently. She nodded her permission and he continued. "Harry is the name given to him by his mother and the man she married. Had I been aware that he was my son, I would've named him Crispin Severus. If it is permissible, I would like all records to reflect that name, including his birth record, expunging all traces of Potter."

"I will see that it's done immediately," she replied, smiling fondly at the Potions Master. She looked back at his son, and her smile widened. "You are a lovely boy, and so well mannered. Now, just a few questions and we'll get this mess straightened out. How old are you?"

Crispin hesitated for a moment, not sure how to answer. At whispered encouragement from his father, he finally said, "I'm six." He held up five fingers, and Severus chuckled lightly, pushing up his other hand and curling all fingers but one into a fist.

"That's six." Crispin grinned at his dad, emerald eyes sparkling happily at the gentleness.

"I'm six," the boy continued, looking at the woman.

"Very good. Could you please stand for me? I need to get some basic measurements for our files." The child stood on the floor, and the woman frowned at his stature. "Small for his age, isn't he?" she murmured softly. She quickly scanned him with her wand, frowning when she read the slip of paper that spat out of the end of it. Scowling, she picked up another quill and jotted down the information onto a separate piece of parchment, then looked back at up at the child. "How often were you fed, Crispin?" she asked gently. Severus scowled darkly at the question, eyes sharp on the woman. She nodded imperceptibly as she looked at the boy.

"I was only 'llowed to eat what was left when they was done," he said.

"Did they have a lot of leftovers?"

"No. They only left what they din't like."

"I see." She jotted some more information onto the parchment. "Did they ever punish you?"

"All the time," the child whispered, tears forming in his eyes.

"How did they punish you?"

"Unka Vernon hit me with his belt. Sometimes with his hand all balled up. Once, when I burnt the bacon, Aunt 'tunia hit me with the hot pan. They locked me in the cubbyhole under the stairs when they din't want to see me."

"Did you ever go see a Healer?"

"What's that?" the boy asked curiously.

"Oh, you probably know them as doctors. Did you ever go see a doctor?"

"No. Unka Vernon said it was a waste of money to take a freak like me to the doctor."

"You've never been vaccinated?"


"Did you attend school?"

"Only when I din't show booboos from my punishments."

"I think I have more than enough information, Mr. Snape." She was beyond furious, and the men could feel her magic pulsing with her rage. "By the end of business today, custody will be given over to you, and his name change will be recorded, as well. We are unable to bring the muggles up on charges of child abuse, as the treaties between their government and ours prohibits it, but I would love nothing more than to…" She glanced at Crispin, and saw the shock in the boy's eyes. She quickly got her temper under control. "We will need to revisit this in six months' time, to see how the child is faring. Congratulations, Mr. Snape. It's a boy."


perussi magis- to eat more; overeat

perussi minor- to eat less

audite recubo ex verum- hear ye the lie from the truth; she will always hear the truth as lie

sentio poena quod dedecus- I feel pain and shame

patior incohare poena- experience enduring punishment; she will feel everything Harry felt while he was there