Dinaer

'Breathe Harry. You've dealt with worse. It's your father in there, not the Dark Lord.' Harry fought to keep his breathing under control. 'Yeah too bad, we could deal with Voldemort' His inner voice replied darkly. 'You didn't look into the Dark Lords pensive and relive his greatest embarrassment did you? You've accused this man, your father, of all but attempting to murder you, haven't you!' Harry mentally scowled at his inner voice. 'You are not helping here.' Harry sighed and looked at the door he was currently standing in front of. On the other side was his father. His true real father. 'And answers.' And with that thought Harry was able to push open the door and walk through.

What Harry saw all but stopped his breathing as grief assaulted his senses. Severus Snape, one of the strongest wizards, let alone men, Harry had ever met was sitting on a couch clutching a piece of parchment, with tears coursing down his face. He looked up, shocked, at the sound of Harry's arrival, and it was then that Harry knew the man before him was truly his father. He stood up and both men lost track of time as they stared at each other. Finally, his father spoke.

"You really are my son." He resisted the urge to spin Harry around to get a better look.

"Yes," Harry answered. Both men noticed the similarities in their voices. "Does this mean I get to call you Father?" Harry asked half jokingly.

"If you'd like." He answered seriously. Harry looked up, shocked. "I would." He answered quietly. Both wizards took a half step forward then faltered. Then Harry, overcome with a strong sense of rightness, stepped forward into his father's arm. They stood like that, clinging to each other for comfort, in an attempt to make up for seventeen years of lost contact. Finally his father stepped back and lifted his son's face to him. Turning his head from left to right, he said "You look like me."

Harry half smiled. "I noticed."

"I'm glad you have her eyes." He said quietly.

"You loved her?" Harry had to know.

"More than I could ever say." He turned around and headed back to the sofa. "Come. We have much to discuss." As Harry moved to sit, he noticed their surroundings for the first time. They were in a room that looked to be for the sole purpose of intimate discussions. It held a black leather sofa, a small coffee table and two tall wingback chairs in red velvet before a large white marble fire place. There were no windows or any other doors besides the one Harry had just entered through.

Harry accepted the tea he hadn't noticed before but didn't sit down. "Please, sit down," his father asked. Harry squirmed. "I-ah- can't."

"Why not?" His father asked, sounding dangerously like the Snape Harry knew better. Instead of answering, Harry undid his robe and pulled it off completely, facing his father in only his school trousers and shoes. He spread his wings out slightly and looked at his father bluntly. "They're kind of in the way."

"You're a Dinaer?!" He exclaimed, jumping from his seat to better inspect his son's wings.

"Well yeah," he hesitated. "Aren't you?"

"I am, but these things often skip a generation. I'm the first in four." He slowly spun his son around as he had wanted to do earlier, all the while running his fingers through the feathers to check for imperfections.

"What are you doing?" Harry asked, giving his father a weird look but enjoying the feeling of being cared for.

"Just checking you. It's in our nature to tend to each other."

"Can I make them go away?" Harry asked quietly, not wanting to offend his father by not wanting the wings.

"Obviously, you don't see mine do you? You can will them away. Just pull them in towards your body tightly and imagine them gone."

Harry did as he was told and was amazed when he felt the tingle of magic along his shoulders indicating they were gone. Harry moved his shoulders slightly. "You can call them back when you need them, just imagine they're there and they'll come. It's a natural instinct to call them when you're angry or scared, and since you're still young they'll often come when you don't want them. You'll be going through a lot of shirts this year."

"You went through this alone?" Harry asked, already overwhelmed at his new found heritage.

"I knew it was in my mother's bloodline so I had already researched it before it happened to me, but yes I did." He gestured to the couch and Harry put his robe back on and sat down.

They sat staring at each other for a few minutes, neither really knowing where to start when Harry spoke.

"Father."

"Yes?" Snape still looked rather disbelieving that the term applied to him.

"I just can't believe I finally have a father." Harry said. His father smiled, not looking at him.

"I have a lot to tell you about being a Dinaer. I won't be able to tell it all today, and some of it you will just pick up as you go along. If you ever have any questions about it, you can come to me, I've already warded the dungeons to admit you." He looked at Harry wryly. "Although I suppose they would have admitted you all along as we share the same blood." Harry smiled at that.

"The most important thing I can tell you is to be careful. While the laws have changed since I was your age, and Dinaer are no longer hunted for their blood, there are still those who would rather see us dead than living with wizarding society. We are not wizards, or even human, and we possess a much stronger magic than those around us. Because of this, many Dinaer choose to live in secluded villages. I was lucky, I have a late birthday and did not come of age until a month after Hogwarts. Unfortunately, you don't. Like I said before, your wings will come to you whenever you are feeling a strong emotion and it is much harder to control when you are young. If that happens when other students are around it's going to be hard to keep your heritage a secret. But, like I've also already said, the laws have changed, and it is up to you if you choose to tell anyone. But remember, there are still great prejudices. Am I overwhelming you yet?"

"I'm wishing a had a quill and parchment, but I think I'll be okay." Harry joked. "Go on."

"Long ago, the was an Elf named Alatariel. She was no one of consequence, so when she left to marry a wizard named Gabriel there were no problems. Wizards and Elves had married before, the only problem being that they were unable to produce children. This couple however did have a child. There son Valan was the first of our kind and was able to breed with other Witches and Elves. After generations of children being born from the first couple the Wizards took notice. With the Elves on the couple's side, a great war raged. Our people used their ability to manipulate the elements in battle, coming in silent and swift and killing many. They called us The Dinaer which means The Silent Ones in Elvish. Many of our people were enslaved, or slaughtered for their magical blood. Eventually the Elves had to back down after losing so many to battle. The Dinaer went into hiding, thriving silently in small scattered villages, using the magic of the elements to keep them hidden. Just recently have we finally been able to live openly in the magical community."

"What does it mean that we can control the elements?" Harry questioned.

"Our magic is far more powerful than our Elf and Wizard cousins. We can connect to the earth, the water, the sky, hence our wings, we can even control fire." With those words his father reached towards the fireplace and Harry watched as a ball of fire zoomed into his hand. He held his hand up in front of his face and Harry watched as the fire danced through his fingers. "It doesn't hurt?" Harry asked, and his father answer by taking Harry's hand and placing their palms together between them. Severus watched his son watching the fire engulfing their joined hands, amazement showing on his face. "Wicked," Harry breathed, his face breaking into an astonished grin.

"Put it out" His father told him, and at Harry's questioning glance he said. "In your head, just like your wings. Will it away." Harry did just that and watched as the flames were extinguished. "That was awesome." Harry said breathlessly.

"That's only part of it. But elemental magic is only a small part of being a Dinaer. Your hearing should be much sharper, as will your sense of smell. And you can see at night."

"So that's how you always caught us sneaking around after curfew!" Harry exclaimed with a laugh, his father laughed with him. Harry couldn't help but feel happy at the sound of his father's laugh. He must have noticed it because suddenly he was speaking.

"That's another thing. We are very attuned to the emotions of others around us, and you'll find it hard not to empathize with even the most pathetic of plights. I take a suppressor potion during the school year, as I am forced to be surrounded with overemotional whiners." Harry chuckled at that. "I don't suppose you'll want to take it, being the Gryffindor that you are." Harry shook his head at that. He didn't want to be an emotionless jerk like his father was during the school year.

"I am not an emotionless jerk, I just choose to not deal with the depression of a fourteen year old witch who's having a bad hair day." His father snapped, and Harry looked up shocked. 'Yes I can hear your thoughts.' His fathers voice echoed in his head. 'I know you've become quite the Occlumens, but I am your father and therefore can communicate with you this way. This only happens with blood relatives and your mate.'

Harry's eyes widened. "Mate?" He asked aloud.

"Yes Mate. Every Dinaer has one. A Dinaer is never mated with another Dinaer, although some do marry if they never find their Mate. Your Mate will be either a witch or an elf."

"Witch?" Harry asked again.

"I did say that. Problem Harry?" Harry chose to ignore the strangeness of hearing his professor speaking his name and focus on the problem at hand. "I don't want to be mated to a witch." He said, his voice sounding far away.

"Why not?" His father asked.

"Because I'm gay." Harry stated bluntly. He looked at his father's face, expecting shock only to find him holding back a laugh. "What?" he asked, irritated at being laughed at.

"You've just dissappointed every Witch under the age of twenty-five that subscribes to Miss Witch Magazine with that statement." And with that his father broke into what could only be described as giggles. Harry glared at his father, who sobered quickly. "Calm down, Son. Your Mate will be someone of you preference I can promise you that." Harry was annoyed to find himself smiling at his fathers subsiding giggles. 'Empathy I suppose' he thought and his father nodded at him across the couch.

"Now you see my dilemma." He said with a laugh.

"Father," Harry spoke. "Was my mother your Mate?" His father stopped smiling and Harry was flooded with feelings of regret, remorse, and infinite sadness.

"Yes."

"What happens if a Mate leaves?"

"When you meet your Mate you body automatically recognizes them. Once that happens you will be attuned to them completely,
their thoughts, emotions, feelings. It will be difficult to be in the same room without touching. It is the same for them. Whoever your Mate is, was born to be your Mate. You and he have been meant for each other since birth and your magics will work in any way possible to push you together. Once you consummate your relationship the bond only becomes stronger. You will feel each other's pain, you will be able to sense when the other is in trouble. You can live apart, but neither of you will ever be truly happy again. You will long for one another until the day you die."

"You feel all that for my mother? Everyday?"

"Every single day." His father answered.
______________________________________