It Began with Detentions with a Drunken Professor

The Final Chapter

Thank you for reading! I am, sad to say, that I'm finished with this story! But, I've got a few more stories up my sleeve, so make you look for me again! I loved this story, and I hope you did too! ~Tori

Harry walked to the grounds the next afternoon, to find Hermione and Ron.

“Hermione, is there a possibility that there’s a spell out there to change genes?” Harry asked his friend when he met her.

She thought about it. “There is, but it’s very, very complicated. It can only be done when a baby is in the womb. Why?”


The night before, after he had spoke with Slughorn, he had a dream that bothered him extremely.

It could hardly be called a dream. It was so vivid- like a vision.

It was about his mother, when she was almost done with her seventh year. She was writing in a journal, and Harry seemed to be reading it. The journal was the same as Snape had been reading earlier.

“I should never had done that with Severus.” She muttered to herself, writing it down. “Now I’m carrying his child and attempting to make it someone else’s.”


“Harry, did Snape say something to you about your mother again?” Ron asked, stuffing his face with a chicken leg at dinner.

“Yeah. I even talked to Slughorn afterwards.” Harry said, his appetite being lost after remembering what was said. “I think…I think my mother and Snape…I think they had a baby together.”

Hermione was caught so much off guard, she dropped her fork. “Harry, are you joking?”

“No, I’m not. I had a dream, vision. Slughorn told me that they were a couple, and” –he shuddered- “He implied that they slept together.”

Ron and Hermione shivered.

“Are you trying to say…are you trying to say that you think that Snape is…your, father?”

Harry didn’t answer, but that was what his mind seemed as though it was telling him.

“It can’t be possible, though, right?” Harry asked, his hope lasting with that sentence.

“I…I don’t know, Harry.” Hermione comforted. “But you look so much like James. It’s hardly possible.”

“I wish there was a way to tell.” Harry whispered. This situation gave him a false sense of security, and it made him think more about his father.

“Harry, I’m sure it’s not true. I don’t think there’s a way to tell, though. I could look, if you wanted me to.”

Harry hesitated. He knew he couldn’t be Snape’s son, but why was his gut telling him to find proof? “Yeah. Yeah, I want to find out.”


Harry passed the eagle statue and said the password, and began walking up to Dumbledore’s office. (A/N: He’s alive in my story.)

“Harry, please, come in. I’ve heard you wanted to speak with me.” Dumbledore greeted him and gestured him to sit also.

“Er, sir? I was wondering if I could ask you something.” Harry felt ridiculous getting ready to ask such a matter.

“I’m happy to answer anything, Harry. Ask away.”

Harry hesitated. “Is…do you think that…can Snape be my father?”

Dumbledore’s eyes seemed confused, but still concerned and serious. “Professor Snape, Harry. But why do you ask me? I am not holy, Harry.”

“I know, Professor, but…I was hoping if you knew the truth.”

“Ah, well. I’ve heard rumors. I know I have always found more qualities of Severus in you than of James at some points. It’s a shame though. It created a feud between James and Severus, for many years. It’s a shame Lily never told them the truth. But I’m sure she might have not known herself. Poor Severus; I’m positive he felt guilty; because it is my belief that he feels that he is responsible. But as for Lily, if she knew that you were created by Severus, I know that I would not want to tell my son that his father was a Death Eater.” Dumbledore got up and paced the room. “But, apart from my own beliefs and rumors, I can highly assure you that you are who you are, and seeing who created the life you were given, I am sure that you will make the right decisions.”

Harry took this entire in. “Thank you, sir.”

“It is my pleasure, Harry. But, it is late, and my warm bed is calling me, as yours is to you, probably.”

Harry left Dumbledore’s office and went back to the boy’s dormitory, a lot on his mind.

He trusted Dumbledore’s reasons, but why was his conscious still disagreeing?


“Harry, I found a spell to see if your mother had used the Genereversio spell on you when you were a baby.” Hermione said, sitting in front of him in the Common Room. “It says it’s quite easy.” She scanned the page. “It’s pretty manual. All I need is a picture of your suspected father.”

Harry thought about it. Did he really want to know? Yes, he did. “Okay. I’ve got a picture of my dad in my dresser. Can I use that?”

Hermione nodded. “Are you sure about this Harry? I mean, what if it turns out that Snape really is your father?”

“Well, then I guess I’ll just have to deal with that, won’t I?” Harry said, and then got up to get his picture.

He came back into the room and Hermione was standing up, whispering the spell under her breath.

“Hermione, are you sure this is going to work?” Ron asked.

“Yes. It’s practically foolproof…. Harry, stand here and hold the picture. It says that there will be smoke coming from my wand, and if it’s green, it’s the correct person.”

Harry’s mind was elsewhere. What would happen if James weren’t his father? What if all of these years, all of his life, he had thought wrong?

“Are you ready, Harry?” Hermione asked cautiously.

“Yeah. Just do it.” Harry closed his eyes and prepared himself for the worst.

Hermione tapped the picture of James Potter with her wand and muttered “Genero.” And then tapped Harry’s chest and whispered, “Matchio.”

The three of them had closed their eyes in suspense. They opened them seconds later when a wooshing sound erupted from her wand.

There, in front of them, green smoke slowly rose from the tip of Hermione’s wand.