When Albus called us to his office and revealed that Harry was my son, none of us believed. It was too fantastic and terrible to be true.

I would never have imagined that, in my last night with Lily, when I left her to join the Death Eaters definitively, a son could have been conceived.

Lily married James to give a respectable father to her son. And being a very resourceful witch, she managed to create a glamour that endowed the boy with James's traits.

A glamour that would last sixteen years, until Harry's coming of age.

The time had come, however, and the glamour had started to slowly fade. Albus hadn't been able to postpone the dreadful revelation of truth any more.

At first, I denied. Then, I rejected him. If he was hurt by my rejection, he didn't show it. He rejected me with the same ferocity that I rejected him.

All this changed on the day Harry disappeared without leaving a trace.

Then I broke down. I couldn't stand the idea of losing him forever, of not seeing that slim, fragile body that held a magic so pure and those green eyes that challenged me any more.

I asked the gods to spare his life, to take mine instead. He was my only descendent, my only hope.

The centaurs found him in the Forest, and brought him back to us, unconscious. The new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher had tried to kill him, but he, the more powerful of the two, defeated him. However, the strain had been too much, and he had collapsed.

I waited in the infirmary, beside his bed, until he regained consciousness. When he opened his eyes, I was so moved that I touched his face with trembling fingers.

Strangely, he accepted me. He moved to my dungeons, and I began to take care of him, to protect him, to teach him everything I knew. In spite of all our differences, we became friends. Now that the glamour had faded, he resembled me a lot: the same sallow skin, the same dark hair. He was lucky, though, not to have inherited my nose. And the green eyes were Lily's, indeed.

He withdrew from his friends. Lupin, who had returned to Hogwarts to be the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, in substitution of the last killer Albus had hired, tried to get close to him, but he had rebuffed his attempts.

Since that day in the infirmary, I hadn't touched him again. I had never told him his presence... comforted me. I had never told him that...

My feelings were becoming confused. As for Harry, he seemed eager for something, for a declaration, a gesture, a resolution, perhaps.

We spent our summer holidays in my house in Cornwall. We went to the beach every day, and we enjoyed our time together. At night, I worked on my potions, in an improvised laboratory, and he helped me.

On a stormy night... I was at my worktable. He approached me from behind. I felt him, but I didn't withdraw... He wrapped his arms around my waist, and rested his face on my back. I turned around slowly, and embraced him. We melted together, and kissed like lovers. The horror of what I was doing hit me; I pushed him away.

"We can't, Harry. You are my son!"

He came back to me once more, silently, and hugged me again. This time I didn't have the courage to push him away, and held him against me, enraptured by his caresses, by his sweetness.

I took him to bed, and kissed him lightly, almost chastely, just brushing my lips to his. Harry closed his eyes and sighed. I placed my hand on the curve of his waist.

"Harry..." I said, my voice low and husky.

He rested his hand on my chest, and I stared at him for a long time.

"I don't want to spoil what we have... I'm afraid, Harry."

"I want you too. I want you so much. I never wanted anyone like this."

Through the windowpane beside the bed, I saw the flashes becoming more intense. The wind howled, whipping the trees.

I took off his robe. My boy was so beautiful... I rubbed my fingertips on his nipples, and they got hard at my touch. He moaned and held my head firmly. I swirled my tongue around each one of his nipples, then ran my teeth lightly over them, delighted with his taste, his texture.

At that moment I realised I couldn't stand the idea of someone else having Harry, of someone else taking his virginity. Harry would be mine, forever.

His eyes were lidded as he gazed at me, his hair spread across the pillow beneath his head. He was flushed, disheveled, breathing hard. The look of desire in his eyes made something stir inside me.

Harry licked his lips to moisten them, and the unconscious sensuality of this gesture made me moan and clench my fists.

A wave of joy invaded me seeing how much he desired me, and I leant to kiss him again.

My hands moved over his body carefully, as if asking permission at each step. He melted under my touch, and reciprocated eagerly, exploring my body with his hands, twining his legs with mine.

His cock was as hard as mine.

Outside, the tempest exploded in flashes of lightning. The thunder shook the wooden house to its foundations. At each thunderclap, Harry hugged me stronger.

"Are you afraid of lightning?" I asked him, breaking the kiss.

"No. I feel safe when you're with me."

I cupped his buttocks, squeezing them. I rubbed my erect cock against his. He moaned and closed his eyes again, with an ecstatic expression.

Trembling, I massaged his balls, then the sensitive area behind them. He stiffened briefly at this more intimate touch. I captured his lips in a wet, warm, thorough kiss. Our hearts beat faster with the intensity of our passions.

On an impulse that surprised myself, I knelt between his legs. I slid my tongue inside him as deep as I could reach, and swirled it around, stretching his walls. Harry clutched the mattress, crying in pleasure.

When I felt he was ready, I cast a lubricant spell, and my boy, who had never had sexual intercourse with a man, opened to me completely, welcoming me into the warmth of his body.

I took him face-to-face, longing to see his reactions. I slid into him easily. He gasped, his body bunching up tightly as I began to move inside of him. He was so warm, so tight.

I pressed myself more deeply into him, and could hardly bear so much pleasure surrounding me, sheathing me. I took his cock in my hand and started to pump him.

Harry finally relaxed, and started to moan every time my cock hit his prostate. Sweat covered our bodies. I quickened the pace, settling into a rhythm. I was cocooned by his sweet and musky scent, by the heat of his body, and I gave myself to him completely. I whispered his name and closed my eyes, lost in him, until I felt him throbbing in my hand. When I opened my eyes, I saw him arch his body upwards and spill his seed over my fingers.

"Father..."

It was the most beautiful vision I had ever seen in my life, and it was enough to make me climax. My body jerked and convulsed, and my seed filled him just when a violent clap of thunder seemed to shake the marrow of our bones.

"Harry... My son."

We have slept together every night since then.

The End