February 3rd 1992

Severus Snape was finishing his nightly rounds, feet walking on their own, eyes staring, ears listening intently. However, his mind was not on the castle or the dark corridors, the dancing shadows or the students that would hide in them. His thoughts strayed far from the damp stone walls and the dimly lit torches.

He had come from the Headmaster’s office three hours ago and yet, it was still all he could think of. The report had gone simply; he had been brief, too tired to stay there and too unwilling to continue looking into Dumbledore’s troubled eyes. Severus had always been a thorough man and Albus trusted him to take care of it, not for the first time leaving Snape speculating on just what the old man saw in him.

Dumbledore trusted him and, more importantly, most importantly, he trusted Severus Snape with something as important to the powerful wizard as this. But Severus wondered, was it really trust or was it because Dumbledore knew that Severus was the only one who could do it? That Severus was the only one to truly reach the boy?

The Boy.

Harry Potter.

The child, who had lived, amongst all odds that he lived, had been placed in the House of the Snakes. The Savior of the Wizarding World, the seed of a prosperous future, had been deposited into a den of thieves and left there to grow. The glorified son of Saint Potter and kind, beautiful Lily Evans had been housed in Slytherin.

Severus had been in shock when that stupid hat yelled out that the boy would be under his responsibility. After all, he had been fully prepared to hate the child, fully prepared to drive whatever essence of Lily from his mind by his cruelty to her own son. Fate had other plans. The Great Hall had been deathly silent – for hardly a person breathed in that moment. All four houses stunned into a complete stupor, making little Harry confused as he made his way to the table, for there had been no clapping for him like there had been for the other children. He sat next to Pansy Parkinson and looked over at Ron Weasley, still waiting to be sorted. The red-haired boy he had befriended on the train had turned slightly green and refused to look at him.

The confused child looked up at the Head Table and Dumbledore lifted his glass to him, smiling. Harry had smiled shyly and scanned the table until his eyes met Severus. Realizing that he had to do something for his new charge, Severus began to clap and finally his House followed suit while the small few from other houses politely clapped with them. The hall, as quickly as it silenced, broke out into ridiculous whispering that lasted through the end of the Sorting and all throughout dinner.

During dinner, Severus ignored everyone around him, refused to meet the Headmaster’s eyes and slowly, carefully, began to devise his plan.

He intended, as he did every school term, to hold private meetings with all the first years. He posted the notice while the dorms were all safely tucked into bed with Harry Potter’s name, unsurprisingly, at the very top. The boy truly belonged in Slytherin; there was, after all, no doubt since there was no fooling that absurd hat. But Severus longed to know the why of it all, as well as the rest of the castle, but unlike the rest of the castle, Severus Snape had the means to learn.

And oh, learn that he did.

The child had come to Hogwarts with no clothes of his own save the uniform he wore that night and the scant, muggle rags in his trunk. He had walked in with his broken glasses and sickly pallor, afraid and mystified but so ready to prove he really belonged. He looked almost every bit James Potter but the child had his mother’s eyes as well as her disposition, thank Merlin. His mother had wanted to prove herself as well and he was very much like her in that, even though he was half-blood and both of his parents magical, he was as ignorant as a Muggle when it came to the Wizarding World.

Lily Evans lived on in her child.

A broken child.

Harry Potter had been taken from an abusive home life and thrust into a different and possibly more violent situation. He had been put in a place, in a circumstance, that Severus feared, would, eventually, suck out all the joy from his life, not that the boy had much joy to begin with.

As the first weeks passed, it became apparent that Harry would have no true friends, save the books in the library. He was shunned by most of his house and the only Slytherin that had dared approached him forwardly was the young Mr. Malfoy – no doubt on commands of Lucius himself. Harry, it appeared, had developed quite a dislike for Draco and still refused to join his group of lackeys, which was all the better anyway as far as Severus was concerned.

Gaining friends from the other houses was something that was not quite done for any Slytherin, even one as unique as Harry Potter. When Hermione Granger, a Gryffindor muggleborn, lingered behind her fellow housemates after the first Potions lesson to answer a question that Harry had so innocently asked her, Ron Weasley and Seamus Finnegan assaulted the smaller boy. Harry Potter was left with a bloodied nose and late for his first flying lesson. Even when Potter rescued Longbottom’s rememberall from Malfoy, he was scorned for not being punished and he was especially tormented when it was announced he would be the new Slytherin seeker, youngest in a century.

Fame had turned to fear and fear had turned to hatred, leaving a scared little boy with hurt feelings and no place to go.

As the school year dragged on, Harry became a shell and dived not only into Quidditch practice but also, and almost obsessively, into his schoolwork. He excelled in all of his subjects and became the top of the Slytherin first years in academics – and most likely the whole House but Severus had never looked. He was only rivaled in the other houses by Granger, oddly enough. However, he was the top potions student of his year and not because of Severus aversion to other houses. Harry became such a wonderful potions student that he could rival even his forgotten mother’s talents.

However, no matter how well Harry performed in Charms, no matter how much his mother’s talents shone through the boy, Filius Flitwick refused to acknowledge it. Filius was certainly more boisterous with Miss Granger on the other hand. The tiny professor would grant house points in a flash to Granger when she was the first to achieve the demanded assignment. Nonetheless, if Harry was the earliest to accomplish the spell, there would be no house points, no beaming smile only a timid and reluctant ‘Well done, Potter’.

Not that Harry particularly cared anyway. The child, obviously, was quite happy with the praise and would push his little mental speaking of outrage back into him. He was, after all, too used to being different, too used to neglect.

Harry also excelled quite well in Transfiguration and also rose above Miss Granger in this subject as well. As much as Severus hated it, this was one trait of magic that Harry had taken from his father. Transfiguration had been James’ forte and Harry was soaring through the subject, colors shining bright. Quite the opposite of Filius, Minerva McGonagall was quite pleased with the young Slytherin’s talent. After all, one could see just how attached she was to Harry if they just knew where to look.

In fact, despite her aversion to punish on bounds that resulted from Slytherin/Gryffindor rivalry, she raised a very formidable hell when word of Harry’s harassing reached her. Her own house resented her for it and in the beginning they sought rebellion. After Gryffindor being negative in house points by the loss of several hundred in a space of only nine hours, most of the House of Lions took her warning seriously from then on. The other houses, Slytherin included, walked on proverbial eggshells around the Headmistress, fearing too for their own house points. Albus had indeed been quite pleased that the number of hex and jinx injuries diminished severely.

Severus had also had taken it upon himself to give the few honorable Gryffindor first-years – sadly only Granger and Longbottom – a rather strong discussion. These were the only two students that had ever approached Harry in something other than malice and sadly, Harry had been abused because of their foolishness. Once the two were aware just what their actions had cost their classmate, they distanced themselves and never again made the same mistakes.

However, neither Severus nor Minerva could be present at every interval. And Severus was not foolish enough to believe that Harry’s only threat came from the Gryffindors. Severus knew – though the boy had never told – that Harry was threatened from within his own house. Most Slytherins, in any case, had been raised to hate everything that Harry Potter represented.

After all, Severus knew it wasn’t the Gryffindors that had killed the boy’s owl, a snowy owl whose wings were cut off and whose neck was broken, lying in wait upon Harry’s bed to be found after he completed his first day of classes.

And it was then that the torment of Harry James Potter truly began.

***

Harry Potter did not move as his Professor sauntered into his classroom. Instead, he sniffed and hurriedly wiped the tears from his eyes. He knew Professor Snape was aware he was there. The man had sort of an extra-sensory perception when it came to Harry’s presence. Harry glanced up as Snape swished his wand to light the torches along the walls. Snape cast his student a barely detectable look before seating himself behind his giant desk, leaving his charge to his own devices.

Harry looked back at his text book before adding the next ingredient to the simmering potion beside him. The boy simply went through the steps mechanically and he was not even aware he was crying again until a tear splashed into the cauldron. Harry let out a strangled sob as two more tears entered his potion.

“Potter, you do know that saltwater will render the potion useless, don’t you?”

“Yes, sir…” Harry mumbled, standing with his head bowed, ignoring his potion as it now was frothing over the edges of his cauldron.

With a single wave of Snape’s wand, the potion vanished and the cauldron flew to the sink. Brushes flew from the other side of the room and the water filled within the basin. The brushes set to work cleaning the pot as Severus waved his wand once more. The ingredients that lay out on the worktable put themselves back into their respectable jars. The jars were swiftly replaced into Harry’s case and finally, the book closed gently, placing itself atop the container.

With a small, barely noticeable sigh, Severus approached the boy. He placed his hands on Harry’s shoulders, gently steering the child into a chair. Kneeling in front of Harry, he lifted the student’s face. Weary, pain-filled emerald eyes, red from tears, stared back at him from behind broken lenses. One of his cheeks had a disgusting dark bruise and the space below his nose was caked with dried blood. Angry red scratches marred his neck before disappearing beneath his robes.

“Who was it?”

“Finnegan and Weasley,” Harry muttered, wiping his running nose with the back of his sleeve.

Severus fought back a wave of disgust at the mention of his two least favorite students and masterfully kept his voice stable and mask unhindered. “Why, Harry? What provoked them this time?”

The boy seemed hesitant to answer but, in the end, mumbled quietly, “…I was talking to Hermione Granger in the library.”

“Harry, I specifically told you to not-”

“I know!” He burst out sitting up in his chair, eyes wide and fearful. “She was just telling me she found an old yearbook that had some pictures of my parents in it! She was telling me where to find it! That was all, sir! Honest!”

“You did not approach her?”

“No, sir.”

“I’ll have to have a little chat with Miss Granger. I specifically made myself clear.”

“Professor, please don’t punish her! She was only helping!” Suddenly Harry grew quiet and looked down at his incredibly worn shoes. “She was just being nice, sir…” A bitter snarl crossed the child’s face. “…and I honestly didn’t think that those two would ever want to step foot in a library…”

Severus swallowed down the laugh rising within him, but allowed himself a smirk for the boy’s sake. “Did you find the book she told you about?”

“No sir. Weasley saw me with her before I had a chance to look.”

As Harry wiped his nose once more, Severus stood and made his way to his desk and opened a drawer. He rummaged for a while before pulling out a scrap of paper. He walked stiffly over to Harry and thrust it into his hands. Harry gasped when he saw what he now held and looked up at Severus with a happy, surprised glow now shining in his eyes, eyes that reminded Severus too much of Lily Evans.

“Sir, I thought you didn’t-”

“I don’t.” He answered simply, a little harshly although Harry took no offense to his tone. Severus knew all to well that the boy was no doubt used to severity. “The Headmaster sent it to me. There is only the one of your mother, I’m afraid. He said he would look for some more to give you.”

Harry smiled as another tear ran down his face, only this time it went completely unnoticed. Severus watched as the boy gently traced his mother’s image with a single trembling finger. He smiled at his picture mother as she playfully blew a kiss at him and then twirled in the snow, laughing and trying to catch snowflakes on her tongue.

“Thank you, sir.”

Snape nodded and placed his wand under Harry’s chin to make him raise his head. Harry watched with the silly, blissful smile still on his face as Severus wordlessly repaired his glasses. Harry did not even blink, too used to the administrations to even care. Severus reached into his pocket and pulled out a small bottle of ointment, handing it to Harry.

“Put this on those scratches tonight before bed. Get on back to the common room with you. It is way past curfew.”

“Yes, sir.”

Harry placed his mother’s picture tenderly down on the desk top and collected his things, all the while casting glances at the object as if he was certain it would disappear. Severus finally drew his eyes from Harry and turned to the sink along the far wall. He quickly cast a drying spell on his cauldron and than shrunk it so it would fit easily into Harry’s bag.

“I will fix it before class tomorrow.”

“Yes, sir.”

Harry picked up his mother’s photograph and cradled it to his chest. He made his way to the door all the way never taking his gaze from Lily’s image. Finally, he paused, stopping cold in the classroom doorway, and turned to face his favorite Professor.

“Thank you, sir.”

Casting Severus a wonderful smile, he made his way from the room.

Severus’ reply was so quiet that the boy never heard him.

“You’re welcome, Harry.”

***

“Well, look who it is! It’s ickle Harry Potter!”

Harry tensed but kept walking, staring determinedly at the staircase. He could sense their eyes on him and he was determined to not show how scared he was. This was the one thing he hated more than his abominable family. He hated the students’ faces, the sneers, and the taunts he struggled with relentlessly, constantly. All Harry had ever wanted was just to feel loved, to fit in, to be a part of everyone else.

“What’s the matter, baby?”

“Yea, what happened, Potter? Did you run into a Gryffindor’s fist again?!”

Harry clenched his mother’s photo to his chest and darted up the stairs, his fellow Slytherins’ cruel laughter following him. His back stung from where their eyes had watched him, where their insults had been hurled. Taking a deep breath and blinking back the tears that flowed unbidden into his eyes, he made his way to the dorm.

Pushing open the door at the very top, he was bombarded with the horrible grating sound of Crabbe and Goyle’s snores. Wincing, Harry took a step into the room. He noticed Malfoy at the small desk in the corner scratching away at something and Zambini reading on his bed with cotton stuffed in his ears. Nott was lying on top of his bed coverings, staring blankly at the ceiling.

Harry dropped his bag beside his trunk, startling his familiar as she lay asleep. Aella, a black kitten with one white paw, gave her owner a dirty look at being disturbed. Harry rubbed his hand down her back, smiling as she arched into his touch and purred. The boy patted her head and laid his mother’s picture down beside the feline. Aella studied it and put her nose right up against it, whiskers twitching.

“That’s my mum, girl,” Harry whispered, removing his outer robes and draping them across the top of his trunk.

Harry quickly stripped and pulled on his pajamas. Harry breathed in their clean scent and rubbed his hand across the silk. They had been a present, the first Harry had ever received and there had been no tag. But Harry did not care. He loved them and every night when he pulled them on he was thankful for whoever sent them.

Breathing in once more, Harry scooped up his kitten and the photograph. He pulled back the curtain with his foot and placed them both on the bed. He put his glasses on the nightstand and crawled into bed, pulling the curtain closed. Harry pulled back the covers and sat for a moment with the cover over his legs. He softly kissed the picture, smiling sadly. Pushing it under his pillow, Harry laid down; the kitten collapsing on top of Harry’s feet.

“Goodnight, Aella,” He whispered. Then, he slipped his hand underneath the pillow, fingertips brushing the edges of the photograph. “Goodnight, Mum...”

***

Minerva was having a tough night indeed. She had just had another chat with Longbottom and Granger, who came in to report the attack on Harry Potter in the Library. She had listened only for a moment before sending the blubbering girl to the Infirmary for a Calming Draught.

Harry had been assaulted for talking to Granger by Finnegan and Weasley.

Again.

In the library.

Really was there no place in Hogwarts safe for the boy?

Minerva sighed and poured herself a hot cup of tea. If she called the Burrow to report Weasley one more time, Molly would have kittens. Minerva winced as she imagined the volume level that would be used and knew that she would rather not. But the boys’ brutish behavior could not go unpunished.

Harry was a quiet child, very shy and a lot more like his mother than Minerva first would have pegged he’d be. It was not as if she expected the boy to be exactly like his boisterous father but he was timid, almost afraid of failure. He had ambition, it was true, and – even though it nearly killed her to admit – Minerva could not help but see that Slytherin had been a good choice for him.

Personality wise anyway. Considering history, it was a bad call. To Minerva – and much of the staff – the hat had condemned them to a nightmare.

Harry looked so unhealthy, so worn down, and always with another bruise before dinner where he sat alone at the end of his house table. Minerva wondered, no she knew, that the Slytherins abused him as well. He was, after all, the Boy Who Lived and she had never seen him with any of his housemates.

She hated to know what went on behind the dungeon walls.

She had never mentioned any of this to Albus for she knew that Severus was informing him of things in the boy’s life. No, if she mentioned just how much that child meant to her, Albus would… Oh, she would rather not think of it at all. She could barely stand his cheerful attitude now.

She could talk to Severus, of course. Yet, Severus would not be very sympathizing towards her own wards, not that Weasley and Finnegan needed anyone’s sympathy. She couldn’t expel them. It was entirely out of the question as the trial would prove to be fruitless – however much she wished she could threaten expulsion if only to get them out of the castle for a few days.

***

Severus had not dared tell the boy that it was too hard to find a picture of his father. Every image that was ever created of James Potter contained the figures of the murderous Black and the poor oaf Pettigrew. Dumbledore claimed that Harry was too young to know about his past, too young to know the conspiracy behind his parents’ murders.

It had occurred to Severus that Harry was suffering as much as he himself did when he was young and ironically, most of it had come from the boy’s own father. Yes, it was so utterly poetic that James Potter’s son deserved all the pain that was inflicted on him.

But this wasn’t James Potter’s son as far as Severus was concerned.

Harry was Lily’s son.

The only reason Harry still lived was because of his mother’s sacrifice. It was ancient blood magic and Severus was certain of his theory. That poor child had been loved so completely that words would never be able to describe it. Lily Evans had offered the greatest sacrifice for her only child. She had placed such a loving protection that it simmered unseen in the boy’s own skin.

Severus wondered what Lily would have thought of her son’s suffering. He wondered what Lily would have thought of her baby being destroyed, belittled, and tortured day after day. What would Lily have done when she realized that James Potter’s sins had cursed her son?

I warned you, Lily. I told you. I swear you would have been safe with me. I would have taken care of both of you…

I loved you so much more than he did…

I believe I never stopped…Severus stared at the empty doorway. Even today you haunt me…

June 18th 1980

She was standing in his doorway, shivering and soaked. Her hood had fallen to her shoulders and mud was caked around the hem of her robes. Her hair was curling in dark red spirals, dripping steadily as if she had just stepped from the bath. Her eyes were glowing wearily as she clutched at her unborn child.

She didn’t speak to him, or he to her. They simply stared at each other, each resigned and world-weary. His limbs were shaking with the aftereffects of the Cruciatus curse, his mask still held in hand. With a simple movement of her lips, she mouthed one word, not allowing any sound to pass by her lips.

Please…

He merely stepped aside, ushering her in before anyone could see.

“Thank you, Severus,” she whispered as he took her sodden cloak from her. She shivered as the cool dungeon air graced her wet arms.

His arm reached out, his fingers tangling in her hair before she pulled him to her. She hid her face in his robes, not minding what they had been used for, only caring about the man who wrapped her in his cloak. Tears began to fall silently as the entire night came rushing back to her and she sniffled, pushing her face even more into his chest.

“Your heart is racing, Severus.”

He sighed and held her tighter, “Why did you come, Lily?”

“I had to get away from him. I needed to just get away.”

“Why here, Kitten?”

“Because I know that you love me. I think you are the only one that does.”

Severus didn’t deny or confirm her words. He only dropped his head to rest it upon hers, burying his nose in her wet hair.

***

February 4th 1992

The next morning, Severus was less than pleased to encounter a boisterous Headmaster in the Great Hall. Sadly even the nearly ungodly hours of the dawn were not enough to escape his clutches. Dumbledore beamed when Severus sat down in his customary seat, one empty chair between them.

“Good morning, Severus!” Severus snarled faintly. The Headmaster was not to be deterred. “You will never guess who I had been bombarded by almost as soon as I stepped from my office this morning.”

“Sybil back from her weekly Friday night binge,” Severus offered blandly, reaching for the teapot and scowling at its cheery front.

Dumbledore’s eyes twinkled incessantly behind his half-moon spectacles. “No, Mr. Potter nearly attacked me at the gargoyle. The poor boy was practically overflowing with happiness. You see he wanted to thank me for a photograph I gave him… though I must confess I had never seen this picture in my life.”

Dumbledore eyed Severus as he became still for a split second, yet long enough for the Headmaster to notice. The wizened old man smiled placidly, “Would the person who gave the boy this picture be the same that replaced his familiar?”

Severus scowled and stabbed a piece of sausage rather bitterly. “Headmaster, I have told you that what I do with my charges is not always your business.”

“Ah, but you see, my dear boy, I hate to lie to the children, Harry especially of them.”

Severus looked from the corner of his eyes at Dumbledore, hiding behind his hair. “What did you tell him?”

“The truth…” Dumbledore said gravely, and then smiled as Severus’ lips pursed tightly together. “That I was so very glad he now had something tangible of his mother.”

Severus’ face relaxed and he opened his mouth to speak when Minerva trudged wearily up to his side. Her customary tight bun was already looking lax and dark bags hung under her eyes. She appeared grimmer than usual as she approached Severus himself rather than taking her place at the table. Severus felt his heart plummet, knowing almost what she would say before she even spoke.

“Severus, Potter is in the Infirmary. Poppy was asking for you to come placate the boy. He won’t let her heal him.”

A barely audible sigh escaped Severus’ mouth before he immediately rose and strode out of the Great Hall.

***

June 18th 1980

When Severus entered the bathroom nearly an hour later, Lily was standing and resting her back against the marble sink. Her shirt, which Severus realized was one of his own that she must have taken from his wardrobe, was pulled and tucked underneath her breasts, leaving her swollen abdomen exposed. She had also pulled her drawstring trousers below her waist and was methodically rubbing a thick, opaque ointment along the pale pink marks that stretched across her skin. She looked up and smiled at him not in the least bit embarrassed by him seeing her in her present state.

“You know you don’t have to do that,” he stated, leaning against the doorframe leisurely, content with simply watching her.

Lily snorted at his comment and rolled her eyes, straightening her back and replacing the lid on her jar of salve. She rubbed her hands absently against her stomach as she faced Severus, still leaving the skin of her lower torso uncovered.

“I believe you need to pay Poppy a visit, Severus. Obviously, you are having hallucinations. Do you need to lie down? Should I make you some tea?”

“I am being serious, Kit,” Severus stated, looking miffed at her teasing and giving the woman a rather half-hearted glare.

“Honestly, Severus, you and I both know just how much I resemble a walrus.”

“You’ll always be beautiful to me, Lily.” Severus words came out very quietly, his breath barely holding to speak his mind.

Tears flooded Lily’s eyes and she looked at the reflection of the young professor in the mirror. However, Severus was staring at the wall opposite of her, clearly mortified that he had even said anything at all. A tear finally spilled over and made its way down her cheek but she hurriedly wiped it away in case the chance he would see. Silently, she admonished herself for crying but her thoughts only seemed to cause more water to overflow onto her face.

If only James would say things like that… Maybe then, we would not argue near as much… Maybe if he truly cared, he would not come stumbling home every night like some lame drunkard off the street…

She continued to study Severus but he never turned around to really face her. The tears were coming faster now but she made no move to rid herself of them. It was useless anyway.

Maybe I just wish that things were different. Maybe if Severus had never been forced to take the mark and I hadn’t been so abominably stupid, we could have… What am I thinking? I am married. I am pregnant with my husband’s child.

But I am not happy. Nothing can stop me from wishing that James was… that Severus could be…

Face it, Kitten, you are in love with your best friend, you are in a marriage that you do not want, and the baby you are carrying is the only wonderful thing that your husband has ever given you.

You’re stuck.

And then, suddenly, her eyes lit up with emerald fire once more as with one single thought from a broken woman, the world changed from what it would have been to what it would now be.

***

February 4th 1992

The Infirmary was empty except for a pale sleeping fourth year student. But the longer one looked they would begin to notice that the bed in the far corner near the large spacious windows was hidden by its curtains. The Hospital Wing’s most frequent visitor was once more in presence with the bed that had quickly become his own over the course of the school year.

More so like Severus Snape, Harry Potter was turning out to be.

Severus strode briskly to the hidden bed and pulled back the curtains gently. Harry Potter’s tear streaked face looked up at him from its previous perch on his bent knees. His green eyes, too much like his mother’s, shone brightly without glasses to hide behind – one glance at the bedside table revealed a small mass of twisted metal and broken glass. His face was caked with blood even his hair was matted together with it. Harry looked at Severus’ grim face, lower lip quivering before he buried his face once more in his robes.

“Harry, what happened this time?” Severus asked quietly, keeping distance with the boy. If touched at this point, the boy would flinch away and become nearly catatonic. No doubt Poppy was not pleased with the boy’s reactions but she had become used to it over the course of the year – if her bidding for Severus was any indication.

The boy shook his head mutely, peeking up at his Head of House. Severus’ expression turned from an almost gentle to a not-quite severe yet stern countenance. The boy’s face colored and he mumbled something into his knees that Severus could not understand.

Severus opened his mouth to further question him when Poppy bustled forth, curtain falling back, her arms loaded with potions bottles. Severus walked forward to help her and Poppy gave him a grateful smile. He raised one eyebrow as he carried the potions over to the table. He lifted a tiny bottle filled with a metallic red potion and faced Poppy. She merely shook her head and looked over at Harry looking at them both curiously and a bit warily.

“How many this time?” the child mumbled and straightened up his back though his knees were still curled tightly against him.

Severus put a hand up, not touching the boy but he stilled and quieted all the same. The potions master peered at Madam Pomfrey oddly, one fingernail tapping the glass on the bottle. “Poppy, if you would be so kind.”

Poppy pursed her lips and gestured to Harry. “Perhaps, Mr. Potter had best explain.”

The boy’s face colored and he bit his lip until blood poured out of it. Severus sighed and sat down beside Harry. He pulled out a handkerchief and handed it to him. Harry pressed it to his lip and a tear fell down from his eye.

“Child, what happened this morning that would require you to need a potion to restore magical core burns?”

“I don’t know what I did, sir. I just–” Harry seemed to choke on his words.

“Go on, child…” Poppy commanded gently. Harry looked up at her with such frightened eyes that made Severus want to curse James Potter for putting his sins upon his son. It was unrealistic but yet, it soothed the anger all the same.

“I… I wanted him to… hurt… I just… wanted him to hurt too… like me… but I didn’t mean to do it… honest…”

The boy sniffed and curled in on himself. Severus moved his hand into the boys vision, slowly so as not to frighten him. Once Harry relaxed, Severus slipped his hand under the boy’s chin and made him lock eyes. Harry nodded briefly, eyes glancing over to Poppy as she mumbled something about “not wanting to watch”, stalked away from the bed and past the curtains.

***

June 18th 1980

They sat together on Severus’ plush sofa before the crackling fire in the hearth. She sat leaning slightly against his side, eyes sparkling at him mischievously, with a fire he missed seeing. He stared at her suspiciously out of the corner of his eyes, bottle of Firewhiskey forgotten in his hand.

“You can’t be serious, Kitten?” He stated and stared at the bottle in his hand as if trying to decipher its purpose. Then he tipped it back and took a large gulp, enjoying the burn as it went down his throat.

She shook her head at his antics and sighed. She leaned closer to him and gently placed her hand under his jaw, ushering him to lock eyes with her. “I’ve never been more serious in my entire life, Sev.”

For once, he ignored her abominable nickname for him, his thoughts on events too impossible, too improbable and too uncomfortable. “But why, Lillian, why choose me? Your son would be better to grow up with all of Potter than even with a tiny bit of me.”

Lily’s forehead furrowed a bit in agitation with him. “You are his godfather, Severus. More than likely you’ll raise him as it is.”

“Don’t talk like that, Lily.” Severus snapped at her.

She did not coil back, she only smiled sadly. “You know it’s a possibility.”

He was quiet for a long moment before he drank a considerably smaller amount and whispered, without looking at her, “What makes you think Black would even let me near the boy?”

“Why do you have such little faith in me, Severus?” she asked incredulously and she placed a tendril of hair behind one ear. “Sirius Black will not raise my son no matter what James implies. Sirius’ ignorance will no doubt get Harry killed or at least, badly injured.”

“I am not fit to raise any child, Lily!” He screamed at her and rose from his place, just to get away from her when she gripped his arm tightly, stooping him over and keeping him near.

“You are fit to raise my child!”

He tried to pull his arm from hers, beginning to feel the buzz rush through him and he stumbled slightly. “Then your standards are lax!”

Lily sighed and pulled him back down beside her, whispering gently, one hand on his chest. “Severus, please, it probably won’t work. I just want to try.”

He was quiet for a long moment in whence he downed the rest of the alcohol and dropped the bottle on the floor, watching it roll away. His voice was slightly hoarse when he spoke next, “But what if it does succeed? What would any of us gain by this?”

“I would gain security by knowing that my son would be raised by you rather than a hotheaded mongrel.”

Severus sneered at the fireplace, not looking at her pleading face. “What does Potter have to say to this?”

Lily’s face was stone and acidic words came from her mouth. “He doesn’t know and as far as I’m concerned, he never will.”

“Whilst I have never been married, I do believe that secrets – especially those involving Dark Magic – are not meant to be kept from spouses. I was at your wedding, Lily. Keeping secrets was not apart of your vows, nor was denying your husband rights to his son.”

It was Lily’s turn to scowl into the fire. “After every argument, he comes home drunk. I am tired of putting him to bed like a child. The one in nappies should be the only one to be babied. I’m more of a mother to James than a wife. If he cannot even care for himself, what kind of hope do I have of him caring for my baby?”

“So you’re bitter?” Severus asked, casting a glance at her pale face. “That’s not a reason to inflict questionable magic on your unborn son.”

Lily smiled, turning back to him. “See, Severus, you do care.” She leaned forward to brush his hair from his eyes. “You’ll be a wonderful father.”

He snorted, derisively. She slapped him lightly on the chest with the hand that had been resting there, rolling her eyes at him. Then, his hand came up to capture hers. Severus leaned forward, tangling his other hand in her loose curls. She brought her face close to his and they stayed inches away from each other, breathing the other’s air. She brought her other hand up and pressed a kiss to her fingertips. Then, she placed them lightly on Severus’ lips.

“I’m sorry, love,” she whispered as a tear fell from her eyes.

He pulled her up against him and leaned back against the arm of the sofa, until she was resting on his torso. He pulled a soft throw off the back of the couch and draped it across them both. Hard sobs began to rise up from her chest and he gently massaged her scalp as she cried.

“Please, Severus… I can’t escape James. I can’t escape this mess I’ve gotten myself into but I can change how my baby grows up. If we are both dead, or if only me, promise me you will take him. Promise me that you will brew the potion. Please, Severus...”

An hour later as Lily slept in his bed curled around her son, Severus found himself, shirtless and barefoot, in his lab brewing the potion by the instructions she gave him. The crinkled piece of parchment rest on the table in front of him and his long thin fingers worked steadily preparing the ingredients, mincing, dicing, and crushing.

For all his doubts and worries, he was excited. If this succeeded, he would have a final and complete revenge on James Potter.

Most likely, though, it wouldn’t succeed. First experiments rarely ever did.

Yet, he would get to hold Lily that night – like she was his, like she should be.

Severus smirked. That was revenge all in itself.

***

February 4th 1992

Severus positioned himself in front of the boy and leaned forward to touch his forehead against Harry’s. His hands came up to place themselves on either side of the boy’s face. Harry tensed at first and then relaxed under Severus’ fingertips.

With a sudden jolt, Severus found himself swimming through the boy’s thoughts. The thoughts and images rushed past so fast that it made him feel dizzy.

“Help me, Harry.” He knew he had spoken to the boy but also felt detached.

The images suddenly stopped and started again though they seemed to play backward and more slowly. A soft fuzzy plane opened up in front of him and Severus reached out with a cerebral hand to touch it. The white glow faded away and was replaced by colors too vivid to be real.

Severus realized that he was looking at the fourth floor corridor of the castle – not that he expected anything else. In front of him was Harry almost hidden behind three seventh year students, two boys and one girl – Severus noting with a grim face the silver and green ties.

“Look it, wee ickle Potter, on his way to the library. Little brat thinks he’s part of our world.”

“Leave me alone, Fester.” Potter growled at Lando Fester and a bit of Lily’s Gryffindor bravery shone through the boy. Severus thanked whatever deity listening that he had not inherited his father’s innate Gryffindor foolishness along with it.

The girl – Catalina Forester – flicked her long blonde hair over her shoulder and inspected her nails. She peered up at her companion with bored eyes and said, “Lando, must we go at this again? Leave the little mudblood be. He’s really not worth our time…” Her eyes strayed to Harry and she looked him up and down before adding, “Besides, Snape will have our hides if we bother his little pet.”

Fester advanced on Harry who unconsciously stepped back into the wall. “Not like Snape’s going to know.”

The other boy rolled his eyes and brushed his thick curly black hair from his lime green eyes – Kendrick Creston, Severus noticed. “Lando, Snape’s definitely going to know if we bother the brat. The mudblood runs crying to him if we even look at him funny.”

“What if we obliviate him afterwards?” Fester asked with a wicked glint in his eyes.

“Why don’t you just write our names on him in blood, Lando? Honestly!” Forester exclaimed and crossed her arms under her ample bosom.

“Just rough him up a bit,” Creston stated, brushing his hair back from his eyes again, a losing battle.

“I know just the thing,” Fester mumbled and raised his wand. He grabbed Potter by the neck, choking him and pushing him against the castle wall. He placed his wand tip on Potter’s scar.

“Cat, silence the hall.”

“Must I do everything?”

“Don’t argue with me! Just do it!” He snarled at her.

She narrowed her eyes but did as he said and mumbled under her breath, “Prat.”

Fester turned his unholy dark eyes on Harry and grinned evilly into the boy’s red gasping face. “Pestis vomica!”

Fester must have eased up on the boy’s throat for a loud guttural scream burst from Harry. His fingers twitched violently and his body jerked. Yet, Fester’s wand stayed, boring into his forehead. Suddenly the scar burst open and blood poured down Harry’s face, into his mouth, making him gag on it.

But then, suddenly a white light surrounded Harry brighter than any spell Severus had seen, so bright it could perhaps rival the sun. Severus had just a moment to see Lando Fester’s panicking face before cuts broke all over his body, blood pouring from every orifice. Harry stared in shock at the blood as it squirted on him, on his clothes, on his face and hands, drowning his hair.

Severus barely registered Minerva and Filch running down the hallway to reach them, Minerva’s pale face and Filch’s retching. He could faintly hear Catalina Forester’s shrill screams or Kendrick Creston’s loud, frightened cursing. He didn’t really notice as the scene around him came to a close and he was pushed out of Harry’s mind.

But when Severus found himself sitting on Potter’s hospital bed once more and staring into emerald eyes, he found himself struck with the image of Lily.

Harry had performed Sectumsempra. Harry had nearly killed a boy with raw magic, a magic that was so distinctly Severus’ own.

Severus watched numbly as tears fell down Harry’s face and he found himself taking the boy in his arms as if he was his own child. Harry tensed and then wrapped his arms around Severus in a vice grip, sobbing roughly.

All Severus could think of was Lily’s pleading face twelve years ago and a blue bubbling potion under his nose.

Lily, what have you done?

February 4th 1992

Lily, what have you done?

Severus held the shivering boy tightly in his arms, gripping him so hard that Severus knew he must have been hurting him. Yet, Harry didn’t complain. He merely clenched his small thin fingers in Severus’ robes, holding on, wiping his tears on Severus just as his mother had once done many dark nights a long time ago.

Why did I let you talk me into this? I was so sure it didn’t work… I’m not ready for this! I could never be ready for this!

I thought I was free when Albus took the boy to Petunia. I thought my time in prison was good way to forget about my promise that no longer mattered. Yet, it’s my fault he was mistreated. It’s my fault that horrible oaf hurt him. Harry is… Harry is… Lily, why? Why?!

But Lily could never hear him. He closed his eyes and he prodded his own mind, calling up a random image of the only woman he had ever bothered to love, and the only who had not been frightened by him.

***

June 1981

“Harry, wave to daddy!”

“Lily, why do you tell him to do that? The potion didn’t work.” He tried to ignore the chubby arms reaching for him but when he saw the pouting lip and childish want in green eyes, he took the child. He found he could not scowl at him as he pulled his hair. Realizing he should just let him do as he wished, he looked at Lily and said, “He looks like Potter, Kitten.”

Harry giggled – he had never seen a child so happy. He did seem to have Lily’s temperament, thank Merlin.

“Severus that’s not really what–”

“Dada!”

Both adults stared at him in shock before Lily laughed, “See, Sev, Harry knows who loves him.” She smiled at him again – that same old crafty smile that made him believe she really was a Slytherin at heart.

***

February 4th 1992

You knew it was going to work… You knew all along. How…?

Severus looked down at the child in his arms, so completely his mother, and knowing the truth. Lily had foreseen it all. Somehow, she had known. Somehow, she had to of known that it would work.

How could I possibly–

Severus’ thoughts came to an abrupt stop as Harry moaned. Severus noticed the boy’s fingers twitching involuntarily and his teeth chattering. He leaned back the boy to see that Harry’s eyes had rolled into the back of his head. Cursing quietly, Severus eased the boy back onto the bed and yelled for Pomfrey.

The Mediwitch looked scandalized as she came bursting through the curtains but immediately set to work once she saw Harry’s state. She barked orders at Severus to administer the boy’s potions in the doses she ordered whilst her wand waved intricately over Harry’s body. Every color of light entered Harry’s body at one point before a transparent image of a rusty cylinder appeared over the child’s chest.

“His core is still burning itself.” She said wearily.

“Has he exhibited magic since the episode, Poppy?”

“Of course not, Severus, what kind of Healer do you think I am?!”

He could tell by the tone of voice that she was panicking and unsure of what to do next. Fear clutched Severus’ heart, fear unlike any he had ever known.

Was this what Lily felt when the Dark Lord wanted to kill him? Is this what she felt before she died…?

And then something seemed to enter Severus, something that he couldn’t place. His skin tingled, his eyes burned and yet his thoughts slowed and entered a voice he dreamed of for ten long years.

“You know how to save him, Severus… I know you do. Look inside your heart. I gave him all of mine. Now you must give him all of yours.”

But it couldn’t be her.

She was dead, after all…

“Lily…” Severus whispered staring at Harry as his body began to convulse. He couldn’t register Poppy’s screaming of spells or the frightened questioning of the fourth year boy at the other end of the Infirmary. Suddenly, a flash of green came across his vision as Harry’s head twitched in his direction.

And Severus remembered a piece of parchment with words in curling script written below the list of the potion that, now, had changed everything.

“Abbas Cruorem Connecto!”

***

“That boy has You Know Who’s soul in him, Dumbledore! I swear to it!” screamed Cornelius Fudge, Minister of Magic during his normal weekly liaison to Hogwarts.

Albus Dumbledore was unfazed as he merely clasped his hands together, placing them against his chin and peered at Fudge benignly. Fudge’s eyes squinted in a glare, giving Dumbledore reason to allow a small sigh to cross his lips. “Harry Potter is nothing more than a normal Wizarding child, Cornelius.”

“Normal, Dumbledore?! That is term I would likely never give that boy!” he sputtered, twisting his bowler hat in his hands as he spoke. “With his past as it is, and the fact that the Sorting Hat saw how much Slytherin he had in him, the boy could never be dubbed normal!”

“Truthfully, it could be in his blood. Lily Potter was quite the clever sort.” With affection for the Dark Arts, not that Dumbledore was going to tell that to Fudge. More than once in their seven years were Severus and Lily caught reading in the Restricted Section.

He looked at Fudge, waving a vague hand at Phineas Nigellus’ portrait, who in turn snarled at the Minister. Fudge shrunk back in his chair. “Not all Slytherins are bad, Cornelius.” Dumbledore stated, ignoring Fudge’s rolling of his eyes. “Severus Snape fought on the Light side of the war.”

“He was a Death Eater, Dumbledore, or must I remind you that he was imprisoned for three years because of his crimes.”

Dumbledore’s eyes turned sad as he remembered, “No, Cornelius, you need not remind me.”

***

November 15, 1981

“I’m afraid, my boy, that the Ministry is demanding you pay for your crimes.”

Severus looked down at his hands and said quietly, “Somehow I knew it would come to this. No matter how much faith she had in me, I knew after her it would no longer matter.”

“Yes, Lily was quite the formidable one.” He chuckled and popped a lemon drop in his mouth. “What an interesting pair, you both made.”

Severus turned his hands over, peering at them as if searching for something. “Lily made me Harry’s godfather.”

Dumbledore stilled for a moment until finally he said, “The name on his birth certificate was Sirius Black.”

“Lily made a separate one and gave it to me. She didn’t trust Black or her husband as you well know, Albus.”

Dumbledore stared intensely at him, leaning forward in his chair. “My boy, why did you not tell me?”

Suddenly, Severus erupted from his chair, fists clenched, half-hiding behind his hair. “What good would it have done, Albus?! The Ministry would not let their saint be raised by a murderer – no matter if that be wish of his dead mother’s, the woman who gave her life for him!”

“My boy…”

“I’ll go to Azkaban, Albus.” He whispered. “That will be the only way to get away from her presence.”

***

February 4th 1992

Poppy and Severus stood side-by-side, chests heaving, wands outstretched. She looked at him from the corner of her eyes but he only stared at the boy. Seeing the deep regular breathing of sleep in the boy, she dropped her wand and turned to Severus. Severus stared a little longer at Harry’s sleeping form before dropping his arm as well.

“Severus, what sort of spell was that?”

He ignored her question, walking forward to tassel Harry’s bangs, allowing his fingers to linger a bit on the child’s cheek. “Poppy, get Albus.” He said quietly. “We all need to have a talk.”

She watched Severus as he pulled a chair up to Harry’s bedside and biting her lip, she left them in peace.

Lily, you knew it would work. I thought you were delusional or at least… trying to make a better life for your child. So I placated you. I made the potion with some small part of me hoping it would work. So you would be mine. I tried not to believe you but it hurt when you taught this child to call me his father. He was so innocent… So full of laughter… Oh, what have I done…? I should have fought for him… You made him my son and I didn’t even fight for him… I told you I’d be a horrible parent.

***

Hermione Granger watched as Madam Pomfrey bumbled away to her office, presumably to floo to the Headmaster’s office. The small bundle of sweets in her arms seemed mediocre compared to Harry’s pain.

If things had been different, Harry might have been her friend. She supposed the sweets meant she was still hoping. Biting her lip she walked forward from her spot, where she had been ignored. She peered through the gap in the curtain and saw her Potions professor sitting beside Harry’s bed, hands clasped and eyes closed as if praying.

“Um… sir…?”

Professor Snape startled so horribly that his hands became fisted in the sheets. He twisted his head to face her and blinked at her as if he didn’t know who she was.

She, oddly, found she’d rather have him yelling at her. Much easier to deal with. This blank stare was grating her nerves.

“Ms. Granger, why…?” He gestured vaguely at her as if he couldn’t find the words.

She blinked at him. Truly, this Professor Snape was disconcerting.

“Ms. Granger.”

“Oh!” She blurted, blushing madly, and shaking a little. “I… um… I brought a get well present for Harry.”

“Ms. Granger, if anyone was to know you are here–”

“They won’t, sir. They are too interested discussing Quidditch. Most of them think I’ve stalked off to the library.”

“And why isn’t Mr. Longbottom with you?”

The girl, as if just realizing how alone she was, scuffled her feet, peering down at them. “Professor Sprout wanted to show him something, sir.”

He peered at the girl, trying to judge her sincerity but she did seem to be exceptionally kind hearted. She would make a good friend for Harry when – if – the world changed.

Madam Pomfrey chose this moment to peek her head in. She looked at Severus then left again. Severus swished his wand over the area, a light green showing that the area had now been warded.

“Stay here, Ms. Granger until I return. If anything happens, do not hesitate to get me…” He stared down his long nose at her and she twittered a bit under his gaze.

“Yes, sir.”

***

“P… Professor…” Harry mumbled trying to awake from sleep.

Hermione was at his bedside in a moment, helping him sit up and propping his pillows behind him. He let her baby him before he sunk back into his pillows again. He looked over at Hermione, blinking at her in much the same way that Professor Snape had done before blurting, “You’ll get in trouble! Professor Snape told–!”

“No, no, Harry!” She said quickly, doing her best to calm him down, especially not knowing what exact state his health was in. “Professor Snape knows I’m here. He said it is okay.”

“Oh…” He whispered, looking down at his hands as he fisted them in his covers.

Hermione smiled sadly and placed one hand atop his. Harry went still before he smiled at her, tears in his eyes, tears Hermione didn’t understand. She squeezed his hand once then let go, replacing her hand with a brightly wrapped chocolate bar.

“I’m sorry but all I’ve got is muggle candy. I don’t know any older students to get any in Hogsmeade–”

“This is for me?”

Her brows furrowed together. “Well, yea. It’s a get well present.”

“A present….?”

Hermione giggled. “Yes, silly,” she said playfully, “and chocolate is for eating.”

“I know what chocolate’s for,” Harry mumbled, but he was smiling.

***

“It was Lily’s idea.”

“My boy, why did you never tell us?”

Severus glared darkly at Dumbledore and Pomfrey looked on in confusion. “You know very well why, Albus.”

“Severus, I–”

“Professor! Professor!”

Severus fearing for a relapse in Harry fled the room, Dumbledore and Pomfrey at his heels. He stopped when he saw the minister in front of Miss Granger. The girl had the man at wand-point and holding a bedpan as if she was going to throw it.

Fudge’s portly face was red with irritation, looking as if he was seriously considering hexing the girl. But Granger showed nothing but Gryffindor bravery.

Yes, Severus realized she would make a good companion for Harry if all this madness ended.

“That-that-that thing has placed a boy in serious medical condition at St. Mungo’s!” Fudge exploded once he saw the Headmaster strolling toward him.

“We are aware of that, Minister,” Dumbledore spoke placidly as if offering him some tea and pointedly ignoring the slight on Harry. “I thought Miss Brown walked you out to the gates, Cornelius?”

Fudge cast the Headmaster an incredulous look. “He needs to be locked away, Dumbledore!” he sputtered.

Severus strolled swiftly up between the two. “Fudge, I taught the Mediwizard the counter-curse. All the boy would need afterwards would be a Blood Replenishing Potion.”

Fudge stared after Severus shocked before exclaiming, “So you were the one to teach him Dark Magic!”

“Dark Magic seems a bit heavy for when one uses it in self-defense.” Severus growled icily, walking past Fudge to Harry’s unoccupied beside. The boy looked up at him relieved. Turning around to face them again, Severus said quietly but clearly. “But yes, I taught him that.”

Harry’s eyes widened at this pronouncement but otherwise he stayed silent.

Severus smirked as Fudge sputtered and he placed a gentle hand on Harry’s head. “He is my son, Cornelius.”

Hermione squeaked in alarm. Brown eyes were wide and her freckled face had turned pale.

Fudge dropped his bowler hat as well as his jaw. Dumbledore bent down to retrieve the hat and calmly handed it back to him only for it to slip right through the minister’s fingers again.

Harry’s reaction, Severus found, he would never want to forget. He was still wary and the Slytherin in him no doubt told him it was ruse to irk Fudge. After all, he knew Severus had not taught him that spell; he knew, in fact, that no one had. But his green eyes, his mother’s eyes, were so full of hope that you could see his heart in them.

Just like his mother.

Pushing past the pain in his heart, Severus turned his attention to Fudge, who found he could summon no words.

Reaching down he lifted Harry behind the back and knees. Harry stiffened, probably having never been held kindly since his mother’s last caress. He was too short and weighed too less. Even his bones were too small. The malnutrition must have been severe.

Damn muggles…

It was easier to blame the unattended party than himself.

“Now, if you’ll excuse me, Cornelius. I wish to take my son home.”

February 4th 1992

“Sir… Sir… Sir–”

“Silence, child.”

Harry peeped and slapped both hands over his mouth, shaking in fright. Severus sighed and walked forward to slowly pull the boy’s hands away. His eyes were tearing up and Severus made the child look up at him.

“I would never try to burn out your tongue, Harry,” he whispered and Harry tried to look down but Severus’ hand kept his chin in place. Defeated he looked back up at his professor. “It is heinous what those muggles have done to you. If I could take every injustice you have suffered at their hands and here in this school on myself, I would do it.”

Severus walked away to busy himself with potions, reading labels slowly and pulling them from the shelf. Harry swished his bare legs back and forth under the table Severus had placed him upon as if he were a very small child. He shivered in his hospital gown, biting his bottom lip worriedly. Out of the corner of his eyes, hidden behind his hair, Severus could practically see the boy gathering up his Gryffindor courage.

“Sir–” He was pale. Was he just that afraid of him, Severus wondered, or had the changes already began just within an hour? “–what you said… in the hospital wing… did you only… I mean, was it… true?”

Severus sighed and placed the potions carefully down on the table. Shaking his hair from his eyes he caught Harry watching him, before quickly looking away.

He had that same damned hope in his eyes.

Lily, this would be easier if you were here, but if you were here the child would never have suffered. Kitten, wherever you are, can you help me?

Silence was his response.

He wasn’t surprised.

He walked up to Harry and he looked up at him, unaided this time. “What do you want, Harry?”

“The truth, sir.”

He looked grown up in this moment, rather like an old man in his eyes, aged and full of wisdom with what he had seen. Rather like his mother after the torture suffered to her at the hands of the Marauders and then being forced to marry one for the ‘good’ of the War. And after she was called to beget a child that would either save the world or die a horrible death.

That orphaned child sat before him now, trembling. He was the savior of the hopeless – whether they believed it or not – and yet, having very little to bring him hope.

“Child, your mother was my best friend… more than my friend in later years. I loved Lily with all I had, but we couldn’t …” His eyes clenched shut for a moment before looking back into Harry’s eyes. “…be together in that way. Lily was told to marry James Potter, a man she detested, a man who was as much to her as Ron Weasley is to you.”

Harry’s eyes were lit with a slight morbid fascination in this, but he was drinking it in. He was, possibly, just happy to hear more of his mother and her life

“When she became pregnant with you, she began to realize she wanted a better life for her child than what that man could give you. She had given him enough chances as it was. So, she wanted to brew a potion that would, very illegally I might add, make you, in all essence, my son. I brewed it at her request.”

Harry gasped, tears falling silently down his face as he looked up at him. Severus pulled the child into an embrace and Harry wiped his tears once more on Severus’ cloak. He sniffled and Severus began to rub circles onto the child’s thin back, causing Harry to sort of sink deeper into his arms.

“I was so sure it wasn’t going to work, but Lily was so sure it would. And it did. I found out that it did work today when I learned you performed that particular spell on Lando Fester. I created that spell, created it, in fact, for James Potter. No son of Potter’s could unconsciously cast that.”

Severus pulled back from the child and conjured a wet cloth. He set to work cleaning Harry’s face. Harry smiled goofily, staring up at Severus. “Harry, you don’t resemble me now but I detect that this may start the changes, physical changes to link us as...” Unable to force the word father out of his mouth, he continued unheeded, “I’ll have to do more research of course but…”

Severus trailed off again, unsure of what else to say. Harry, too, was quiet and both looked off in the distance. Harry, however, still had one hand fisted in Severus’ robes.

“Do I have to go back to the hospital wing, sir?”

Severus let out a single laugh and sat a startled Harry down on the floor. Then Harry stared in wonder up at him – childish awe making his face glow.

“I’m going to retrieve your things.” Severus watched as his son’s brow furrowed. “You are staying here, Harry, until we can find a better solution. But now that I realize the truth, I, above all, have the ability to get you, at least, out of Slytherin dormitories.”

Severus saw the biggest smile ever cross Harry’s face. He turned and walked out the parlor.

He never saw Harry spin in front of the fireplace and then collapse on the floor in a fit of happy giggles.

If he had, he might have thought that this is the child Lily Evans wished for her son to be.

***

“Severus, my boy, was that completely necessary?” Dumbledore asked the moment Severus stepped from his quarters. He had been waiting for Severus and at least, being courteous not to barge in on his and Harry.

“He is my child. There is no longer any doubt in that. There is no gain to come from denying it but all loss to come by keeping it a secret.”

Dumbledore’s blue eyes glittered sadly with what might have been unshed tears. “My boy, this will not help Harry’s case with the government. For the ministry to learn, he became a Death Eater’s child illegally – the newspapers, my boy–”

“Albus, I have no doubt what it will do. However, I will not sit by and watch Lily’s son be tortured. I have done so at your request. Sit back and do nothing, you said. He’ll get stronger this way, you said. Well, I’m through, Albus.”

He stalked forward till he was face to face with Dumbledore, so close they could feel the other’s breath. Dumbledore, honorably, did not back away. “How many more Lando Festers will it take before Harry breaks?! How many more dark curses, slicing hexes, and monstrous muggles will it be before my son’s heart gives out?! How much more could Harry take before he follows a path that will lead him to be what the world thinks he is?!”

He leaned back. “I owe it to Lily. I owe it to Harry. My son will not just be a pawn for when the Dark Lord rises again.” He paused for a moment before saying quietly, “Albus, don’t try to fight me on this. I’d have kill you.”

Silence stretched between them before Dumbledore placed a gnarled hand on Severus shoulder. “You said you owed it to Lily and Harry but, my boy, you owe it to yourself as well. You deserve happiness. Severus, I’m sorry… for everything.”

Severus took a couple steps back. “Sorry is too late, Albus.” He strode away. “Twelve years too late.”

***

January 13, 1979

Lily was crying in Severus’ arms.

And he wanted to kill the Headmaster.

Then Potter but there was no real order to it.

Dumbledore couldn’t just demand that she marry Potter. Given history, it was extremely cruel to even suggest it in passing. Surely, the old bastard had a heart underneath that beard.

All for the good of the Order.

It made him want to hurl.

Severus raised his head from the top of Lily’s and his eyes lighted on Potter’s smirking face. Black looked just as gleeful. Severus hand unconsciously went for his wand until Lily’s hand intercepted his with her own, gripping it tight.

“No, Sev…” she whispered, looking up at him with a tear streaked face and sparkling emerald eyes. “They’re not worth it.”

Severus leaned down and kissed Lily’s forehead. She brought one hand up to his cheek, biting her lip to keep the tears at bay.

“I’ll marry you first, Kitten. I’ll marry you. I’ll be damned if I let Potter touch you.”

She smiled a watery smile at him. “Severus, you are my knight in shining armor, but, love, if I can end this war, than my own happiness means nothing to the happiness of thousands of others. Albus does this with good reason. He must be.”

She was trying to convince herself, but Severus refused to be attracted to a war-free world by lies.

“You are everything to me,” he whispered.

Lily leaned up and placed a chaste kiss on Severus’ pale lips. Tears flowing down her face again, she buried her face in the crook of his neck hugging him as hard as she could.

He held her tight, as if he could shield her from Black’s snickers and Potter’s triumphant face.

Shield her from her uncertain future.

***

February 4th 1992 – Lunch Hour, Great Hall

Catalina Forester and Kendrick Creston sat quietly by themselves, refusing to talk to their housemates about what had happened. If anyone asked, Catalina would burst spontaneously into tears.

The first years sat in their normal spot at the end of the long table, on the end closest to the staff table. They were not quiet, per se, but were socializing with only themselves, as was normal. However, their conversation was nearly the same as the other Slytherins’.

“You’re right, Draco. Potter’s still not here,” commented Theodore Nott, craning his long neck and looking at the other end of the table.

Malfoy only grunted, pushing his potatoes around on his plate.

“Professor Snape’s not back yet, either,” mumbled Gregory Goyle, reaching for another leg of chicken.

“Merlin, what did Fester do to him?” wondered Pansy Parkinson.

Zabini leaned conspiratorially toward the center of their group. “What Fester did to Potter is nothing to what Potter did to Fester,” Zabini stated, a odd glint in his black eyes.

All of his friends looked up, each with shock, except Draco who seemed merely refined and reclusive in this crowd. His head was bowed and he speared a potato violently. Scowling, he put pushed down his fork to clang against his plate.

Pansy cast him a pitying glance and then shared a look with Zabini. Something was wrong with Draco.

“What are you talking about, Blaise?” asked Millicent Bulstrode before ripping apart a roll, rolling up a piece and plopping it in her mouth.

Zabini looked all around him, but the upperclassmen didn’t seem the least bit interested. He leaned in even farther and whispered as loud as he dared, “Potter nearly killed Fester.”

Blaise smiled wickedly at the gasps and open mouths and he seemed perfectly content with the silence.

“Zabini, you better explain before I hex you.” Daphne Greengrass stated calmly. However, those that knew her were watching her fingernails turn colors like muggle Christmas lights.

Blaise sat back in his seat, smirking. Daphne blinked and a saltshaker exploded. Nott threw a carrot at him.

“Don’t be a prat, Blaise,” Pansy said, rolling her eyes.

Blaise narrowed his own eyes at her, silent. Then Draco slammed his fist down on the table, causing the girls to jump back and some upperclassmen to glance over. “For Salazar’s sake, Zabini tell them.”

Blaise looked warily at Draco, and then leaned forward again, mischievous smile once more in place. “Potter hexed Fester so bad that he was taken to St. Mungo’s.”

“What?” Pansy exclaimed, speaking for the rest of her dumbstruck friends. “How?”

Zabini opened his mouth to reply when Draco answered for him. “He wandlessly cast a spell that was, no doubt, dark magic, but the teachers had no idea what it was. Or how to deal with it.”

Each one looked at each other, trying to decipher what they were hearing but coming up with only fear and uncertainty.

“Do you think it’s true, Draco,” asked Daphne anxiously, looking up at him with doe-like blue eyes. “What they’re saying about Potter, about him having the Dark Lord inside him?”

“Father says it’s not true,” he mumbled, going back to picking at his food.

Zabini looked on as the others began to finish their meals in peace but couldn’t help wondering about the fact that Draco was the only one who didn’t seem relieved.

***

Dungeons

Severus was on his way back to his rooms with a small black and white kitten trotting at his heels. He rounded the corner, lost in thought when Aella hissed loudly.

A woman in a hooded cloak stood outside his door arguing with the portrait. He didn’t recognize her voice and he could see no face. But what she was saying kept him rooted in place.

“I need to see Lily’s son, you confounded painting!”

The painting blew a raspberry at her and in response she whipped out her wand, holding it in a heavily bejeweled pale hand. “Fira–!”

“Expelliarmus!” Severus screamed, almost before he aimed his wand properly.

The long mahogany wand whirled in the woman’s hand for a moment before flying gracefully into Severus’ hand. The woman stood shaking, hands in dainty fists to at her sides. She half-turned to face him and this time he saw tendrils of honey blonde hair draping out of her robes.

“Fira praemium, Narcissa? I have a feeling that the business you have with Harry does not require others to know. I doubt that plan involves blowing my door off its hinges.”

“And you would be correct.” She said coldly, finally looking up at him. He was mildly shocked to see her red-rimmed grey eyes and smeared makeup. She stood up straight and tall however, slowly pulling back her hood. “I had hoped to avoid you, Severus but your bloody portrait…”

He walked forward but stood a few feet from her. “That has been determined,” he drawled, fiddling with her wand. She glared at him. “Your son is in the Great Hall. Perhaps, you should visit him.”

“I’ve already seen Draco, Severus,” She said, surprisingly wiping tears from her eyes. She looked off to the side, composing herself. “You and I need to have a talk on the matter of my son but that particular problem is not why I’m here.”

“What do you want with Harry?”

Tears fell down her face but this time she let them. Perhaps, she thought it a fruitless effort in trying to stop them. “Don’t you think I have any rights to Harry? Lily was like a part of my own family.”

“You betrayed Lily,” He growled stomping forward, putting his face near hers. “You betrayed Lily when you agree to marry Lucius.”

“And Lily understood my reasons.” She whispered fiercely, “You, however, never bothered to even listen to them.”

He stood still as she walked away from him before turning around, spreading her arms wide and said violently, “You were bitter when I became engaged. You were bitter when Lucius led you to the Dark Lord. But I knew you would be a spy. You never lost contact with Lily. I knew that because I never did either. I did not run crying to the Dark Lord and spill everything I knew about you and the Order!”

She clenched her eyes shut and whispered, “I made you my son’s godfather, Severus. What more do you want from me…?”

He felt his ire slowly begin to fade with this woman. Now, he only felt lost and insecure. Softly he said, “An explanation, Narcissa.”

“After twelve years, you want an explanation?” she asked wearily.

He sighed and handed her back her wand. She stood dumbfounded, watching as he whispered the password to the portrait and not hearing what it was. He stood in the open doorway looking incredibly tired.

“Come in.”

“Severus, why are doing this?” she questioned, disbelief in her voice.

He sighed again and looked at the ground. “Blame it on Lily,” he finally whispered, gazing back up at her. “She’s been haunting me.”

November 22, 1978

“Imagine my surprise when I opened the paper this morning,” Lily Evans said liltingly as she plopped down in her favorite armchair in a muggle cafe.

An odd smile was on Lily’s face and her friend sat down beside her – much more gracefully than Lily by all means. The other woman had a pensive look on her face and she sipped her coffee thoughtfully. Lily watched her a tad bemused but something seemed to be swirling in her emerald eyes. The other woman finally sat down her cup with a sigh, which was returned by Lily.

“Why aren’t you angry with me?” She whispered, grey eyes looking so forlorn.

Lily reached over to take her hand. “Because I know you must have a good reason for it, Cissy.”

Narcissa Black was quiet, shaking a strand of blonde hair from her eyes. Finally she squeezed Lily’s hand tightly and looked up into her eyes. “If it could have only been anyone else… but I saw it, Lily. I can do nothing except accept it.”

Lily leaned back into her seat, finally sipping on her beverage. “I’ll never understand the way a Seer’s world works.”

“Trust me, Lily. Even I don’t know all the details.” Narcissa said bitterly. “It’s not like there is a handbook to study.”

“And Lucius Malfoy…” Lily whispered thoughtfully. “I’d imagine kissing him would be rather like kissing a dead fish.”

“Lucius looks nothing like a dead fish.” Narcissa said playfully, licking her lips. Lily rolled her eyes and shoved her gently.

“That’s your only silver lining, isn’t it, Cissy?” Lily laughed. Narcissa gave her a mischievous look but stayed silent.

Lily rolled her head on the back of her chair, staring up at the stain glass lamps above her head. “Tell me my future, Cissy? Who will I marry?”

Narcissa forced a smile even though Lily’s eyes were turned away. “That’s against the rules, Lillian.”

“Will I be happy?” she asked. “I’d like to know that at least.”

Narcissa was silent for a long time and she saw the tears falling from the corner of her friend’s eyes, the truth stuck in her throat. Finally she whispered, “Yes.” In the end… She bit her lip and picked up her drink. Tears stung her own eyes but she held them in check, staring away from Lily and out at the street.

You’ll be happy, Lily, in the afterlife, dying but knowing the truth and having changed your fate and that of your son’s…. and the man you love… the power the Dark Lord knows not…

Then something lit her eyes that Lily did see, and Lily wondered about it but asked nothing.

You will change your fate because I will help you do it.

***

Present Day

Narcissa noticed the dark wood and overflowing bookshelves almost the minute she stepped into Severus’ rooms. The entire parlor reflected his attitude with two wingback ebony chairs and one large plush sofa that she imagined swallowed you the minute you sat in it. The bookshelves drew her attention, like a drug she felt herself moving over to them. Immediately, she saw familiar titles that she knew Severus had never read.

She picked up an incredibly worn copy of Pride and Prejudice. She opened the cover to see the inscription.

Lily,

Happy Christmas.

Now you have your own copy. Don’t thank me. It’s only so I don’t have to hear you complain that you don’t have your muggle library.

- Severus

Narcissa smiled. “Ever the articulate one, Severus.”

“I was twelve.” He deadpanned sweeping past her, robes billowing, moving down the hall as if she was invisible, a mere statue in his home.

Narcissa closed the book’s cover gently, rubbing her fingertips against the faded letters. “Couldn’t bear to part with them, Severus?” she asked quietly to the air around her.

***

Severus rounded the corner to see Harry staring intently into the hallway closet. He watched as the child blinked sleepily, hunching down to look at something. Then, he swayed with weakness – his blast of uncontrolled magic and the magic that Severus and Lily put on him taking a toll on his small form. He swayed once more, and then, flailing a bit, he fell back on his bum.

“Child, what are doing?” Severus asked, a bit bemused, glancing at the closest himself. It was small with blankets placed on shelves and a few bits and baubles below them. He saw a large pine chest nestled in the corner, cobwebs clinging to it and felt a pain in his chest.

That’s for another time… Neither one of us is ready yet.

Harry offered him a small smile, not moving from his perch. “I don’t believe your closet is big enough for a mattress, sir. I suppose you know a spell?”

Anger whooshed up in Severus as well as the image of Lily holding her child for the first time in her hospital bed. The wonder on her face and the joy he felt that he got to spend that moment with her, her husband in a drunken stupor in their home in Godric’s Hollow. Lily was probably spinning in her grave.

Or itching to murder her sister from the afterlife.

Sighing, Severus didn’t offer Harry a response. He only picked him up as he did earlier, as if he were a small invalid child. Harry watched in wonder as he was taken to a small room across from Severus’ own.

It was indeed small, the four-poster bed taking up most of the space in the room, emerald drapes swaying with a misplaced breeze. Bookshelves lined one wall and a plush sofa chair sat near one of them. A round table like that that was in the library sat off to a corner, two chairs pulled up to it, serving as a desk. A window seat with an enchanted view of the grounds was beside a small nightstand and Harry could see a small door of to the side of the bed, open with the view of a private bathroom.

“Sir…?” He asked timidly as Severus sat him down on the edge of the bed.

He kneeled before him, studying the boy’s face. The child’s hair was nearly long enough to reach his eyes now and his face was a little less plump than it had been before. He reached down to check Harry’s pulse, noticing that boy’s hands seemed longer and thinner.

Looking back up, he asked softly, “Are you in pain, Harry?”

At first, the boy seemed unsure how to answer but then whispered, “It’s, like, how I feel after a really tough practice… Sort of achy...”

“You’re muscles are being stretched and pulled. I imagine you’ll grow an inch or two before the night is over.”

“Really?” He asked, shocked. Severus nodded, once more studying the boy’s face. “That’s because of that potion, right?” Harry asked, fidgeting a bit but he seemed excited. “The one you said you brewed for Mum?”

“Yes, Harry,” he whispered. “Have you noticed the changes?”

“Yea but I thought it was just accidental magic.”

“I assure you, Harry, it is purely purposeful magic.” Then, Severus turned quiet, continuing to examine the child’s face. The boy watched in shock at the wonder that lit his normally surly professor’s eyes. “You are indeed my son, Harry.” Severus whispered, leaning back.

Severus looked into Harry’s eyes, watching as tears suddenly poured down the child’s cheeks at these words. Severus pulled him to his chest and he nestled his face in his father’s neck. Harry’s thin arms wrapped tightly around Severus’ shoulders tightly and he whispered oblivious in the man’s ear, “I have a family… Me…”

He never saw the happy smile on Severus’ face.

Nor would Harry know, this was the happiest Severus had been since before Lily’s death.

***

Narcissa peeked down the hall but saw no one emerge from any of the rooms. Opening her mouth, she made to say something but then thought better of it. Sighing, she walked back the sofa in front of the fireplace, staring at a cold hearth. Reaching for her wand that Severus had graciously returned to her, she lit a fire. Immediately, she began to feel the heat spread through her bones.

She stared, bored, around the room and her gaze soon lighted on a half-empty bottle of Firewhiskey and a tumbler. She rolled her eyes and mumbled, “He still has no class.”

Ding! Ding! Ding!

Narcissa sat up straight, body rigid, heart racing. She fumbled in her inner robe pockets with shaking hands. Mumbled talking reached her ears but it cleared up the minute she pulled a small violet piece of glass from her robes.

“For Merlin’s sake, Mother–!”

She fumbled with the glass, nearly dropping it before bringing it level to her nose. “Draco, baby, what’s–?” She gasped.

Draco’s nose was bleeding and his beautiful grey eyes were bloodshot and red rimmed. His face was pale with dark circles forming underneath his eyes. She watched as he blinked and a tear fell down his cheek, tinged pink with blood.

“Mother, something’s wrong…” he whispered. “I’m not going to be able to stand for much longer and if I’m not back at the common room soon, Pansy will send out Zabini to find me.”

“Where are you?”

“Potions classroom,” he whispered. Then he looked her in the eyes, eyes that matched his own and she thought he looked the same as he did when he was a toddler, helpless and desperate for saving. “Mum, please, hurry…”

Metallic fog swirled on the glass’ surface, taking Draco’s face with it.

What do I do? What do I do? She looked around her frantically, helplessly. Oh, damn you, Lucius!

“What do I–?” Her eyes went wide and she peeked down the hallway. Finally, she threw decorum to the wind, vaguely reminding herself of her school days. “Severus!”

***

Harry’s fingers clenched in his father’s robes tightly and he pushed himself against Severus’ torso. Severus cupped the boy on the head, mumbling, “What does that infernal woman want?”

Narcissa ran down the hallway and ran past before backtracking, hovering in the doorway. The fear in her eyes caught Severus cold and he found he could find no irritation with her. Tears flooded her eyes and one was slowly making a track down her cheek. Then, her eyes fell on Harry, catching the child’s stunned gaze.

“You can see Lily in his eyes…” she whispered.

“Narcissa, what–”

“Draco!” It was like reality came rushing back to her in mere seconds. Severus stood and she rushed toward him, dainty fists pounding pleadingly on his chest. “Severus, you have to help me! He’s never looked this bad before or had an attack so soon after his medication.”

“Narcissa, you are not making any sense.”

She peered up at him with wide beseeching eyes. Severus found himself being pulled inside her mind, but all he received was screams of pain and fear, a shouted jumbled curse and Narcissa’s voice drumming in his head.

“How could you do this? You bastard, this is your son!”

He narrowed his eyes at her, and speaking low, asked, “Cissy, what is going on?”

He was unaware of the childhood nickname that came unconsciously to his tongue. She ignored it as she pushed him toward the door.

“He’s in your classroom. Please, Severus, help him!” she screamed hysterically, tears coursing down her face. “I’ll stay here with Harry. Please, go!”

He stood still for a moment, staring over her shoulder at his son’s shaken form. Narcissa gently made him look her in the eyes again. “Trust me, Severus.”

He knelt down beside a trembling Harry and gently stroked his hair. “I’ll be back soon.” Harry looked over at Narcissa. “She can be trusted, son.”

“Okay,” he mumbled and Severus kissed his forehead.

Severus stood and made to leave them room when Narcissa grasped him by the sleeve. He looked back at her from behind his hair. “No matter what you may see,” she whispered urgently. “Don’t take him to the hospital wing.”

Severus gripped her by the neck of the robes bringing her face closer to his, growling, “You will explain this.”

“I promise, Severus.”

Then he fled the room, Narcissa and Harry watching him leave, robes billowing after him. Then, Narcissa looked at Harry and he looked at her.

“Crazy day, huh?”

Harry smiled tremulously.

***

Hermione Granger wasn’t feeling very much like a Gryffindor.

She was in the dungeons, in pure Slytherin territory. She was a smart girl and she knew she could get herself out of a mess. She knew a few upper level hexes, after all. Besides, Professor Snape would save her. He was always lurking about.

But Professor Snape was with Harry, with his son. When did the world turn from possible, plausible to upside-down? Though the Minister’s face had been priceless and she couldn’t help but giggle at her head of government.

Really, Hagrid would make a better Minister of Magic.

Question was, how was she going to find Professor Snape’s chambers? Was she really expecting a blinking arrow with a “Severus Snape lives here” sign?

She sighed. Maybe she wasn’t as smart as everyone believed her to be.

Nearing the Potions classroom, she started dragging her feet. What are you doing, Hermione? Stop being a fool! Go back before they kill you and hide the body!

But, another voice in her head argued, Harry is a decent Slytherin. Surely there are more.

Then a loud groan of pain and irritation reached her ears coming from the classroom. Finally feeling some Gryffindor courage, she walked toward the eased door and slowly pushed it open. She walked in, peering at the shadows. Then she saw the small pools of blood and made to scream before a shaking hand clamped over her mouth.

Her assailant was weak but she was scared. She fell back on their body when their knees gave out. The boy – she was sure it was a boy – landed on his back with “oomph”. Half leaning against the wall and her body lying on top of his, hand still on her mouth, he whispered in her ear.

“Granger, I’m going to let go. You scream and you’ll soon be small enough to move in with one of Professor Snape’s pickled creatures.”

She nodded her and he slowly took her hand away. She didn’t move.

“Granger, for Merlin’s sake, get off me!”

“Oh! Oh, yea!” She said quickly. She quickly scrambled to her feet but the boy stayed down. Turning around, at first, she barely recognized him but there was no denying the white blond hair, the bloodshot grey eyes and the Slytherin crest on his soiled robes.

“Malfoy?!” she chirped.

“Keep it down, Granger!” He barked in an undertone. He used the back of his hand to wipe blood away that had been threatening on entering his mouth when he talked. “Alert the entire school!”

“Sorry,” she whispered. Slowly, she took in his bloodied face – he looked like he’d been mauled by a rabid animal – as well as his pale skin and the dark circles around his eyes. “What’s wrong?”

“None of your business…” he growled, slowly getting to his feet only to fall into a nearby desk. She rushed forward to help him but he weakly pushed her away, sneering.

“Malfoy, you need help.” She stated, hands on her hips. “You need to go to the hospital wing!”

“No, I do not, Granger.” He said slowly as if talking to a very small child or a person with few mental capabilities. “Mind your own business and be a good little Gryffindor, unlike your companions!”

“Ugh!” She screamed, crossing her arms. “You are so stubborn!”

Draco opened his mouth to speak but suddenly, his eyes rolled back in his head. He started falling to the floor but Hermione caught his head before it cracked on the stone floor. Setting his head in her lap, she watched as blood gushed from his nose and even leaked from his tear ducts. She pulled a hand away from his ear and it glistened with red.

“Oh, what do I do…?” she whispered desperately to the room around her.

Then his fingers slowly began to twitch and then it spread to his arms, his legs, his feet, his head. His teeth knocked together as he began convulsing. Hermione bit her lip to keep from screaming, frightened tears rolling down her face.

“Somebody help,” she whispered, reaching over to grasp one of Draco’s hands. “Somebody please…”

Then the door burst open and Professor Snape sauntered forward. His eyes followed the pools of blood before seeing Hermione and Draco. Immediately he fell to his knees beside the boy, assessing him quickly before summoning several potions. He Instructed Hermione to hold his head steady and to tilt it as he poured in potions. They waited in pensive silence until the boy’s body stilled.

Severus conjured a potions case and it flipped magically open, the inside empty. Pulling a piece of paper from his robes, he summoned his self-inking quill from his desk, scribbling a few things down. He thrust the paper into Hermione’s hand.

“Miss Granger, go to my storage closet and retrieve these. All are labeled, bring them back and put them in the case.”

“Y-yes, sir,” she said anxiously, wiping her tears and smearing a bit of Draco’s blood across her face. Quickly, she did as told, carefully moving Draco over to Severus’ lap. Setting to work cleaning the child up as best he could. The blood was still flowing, slow but steady.

“I’m your godfather,” Severus said quietly to the seemingly unconscious boy. “Doesn’t your ignorant mother thin that I deserve some answers?”

“… I was sworn not to tell… Mother said… well it doesn’t matter…” Draco whispered, opening his eyes blearily. “I knew but I couldn’t tell you that Potter was your son…” Severus’ shock unwillingly showed on his face but Draco was unfazed. “I’m glad you know now. It feels good to have one less secret…” he trailed off, going back into unconsciousness.

How much can a man’s world change in just one day? Severus wondered, staring down at his godson and yearning for answers.

For his godson.

And for his broken child.

And for the only woman he ever loved. And lost.

How much did Narcissa meddle? She must have known like Lily, known from the beginning that the potion would make Harry my son. That’s impossible...

But as he leaned down to pick up his godson, Granger came back and arranged the levitating potions into the case. She, then, levitated the case, following diligently behind Severus, tears falling down her freckled face. Severus glanced back at her before he looked forward, shaking his head.

Impossible…

He was tense as he eyed her sleeping son, denying looking into her eyes despite her searching gaze.

She absently wondered what he was afraid of.

Harry looked up at him with badly concealed pain and Severus’ lips pursed. He gathered his child near him and simply held him, rocking slightly on the boy’s bed. Narcissa bit her lip as she watched him, clasping her own child’s thin, pale hand with both of her own.

“Mum…”

She quickly looked down at her son, smiling tenderly at him and brushing an errant strand from his eyes. His grey eyes narrowed at her a bit, but he still seemed weary. She picked up her cloth and wiped at his face in the places the blood had been. It was pink now from scrubbing but still she cleaned it gently again.

Both of them knew why. To them, the blood never went away.

“Yes, love?”

He looked around him but he didn’t have the strength to lift his body up from the conjured cot he lay on. “Where’s Granger?”

Narcissa picked up her son’s other hand and slowly moved it, gently dropping it gently on Granger’s head where it lay on the edge of his bed. Draco’s hand twitched and Narcissa placed it on his chest. He looked over at his mother.

“What does she want?” He snarled, twisting her face away from her sleeping form.

“Draco, in her eyes, she nearly saw you die. That does something to a person.” He was quiet for a long time, staring into his mother’s eyes before giving up and staring at the ceiling.

“You saw something, didn’t you?”

Narcissa tensed and Severus eyes snapped up immediately. “Saw what exactly, Narcissa?”

She swallowed and then licked her lips. She stood regally, the scratching chair ruining the effect. Hermione’s eyes snapped open and she sat straight up in her chair. Her eyes flittered all around the room before landing on Narcissa’s standing figure. She offered the girl a small smile before looking back at Severus.

“Professor, I believe we have things to discuss.”

***

“They locked us in!” Granger exclaimed, very much affronted. She let go of the doorknob (“You didn’t have to twist so hard, missy!” it screeched) and plopped back into her chair. She looked at Draco who scowled at her. He turned his head, hearing movement to the other side of him as the smaller boy crawled into his window seat, staring down at Ravenclaw’s Quidditch practice.

Staring down, that really seemed quite odd.

“So, Potter, or…” Draco’s brows furrowed. “What do we call you now?”

“You could call him ‘Harry’.” Granger quipped, going over to sit beside Harry. “You are his housemate after all.”

“And your housemates call you by your given name too, I imagine.” He snapped at her, smirking when her face flushed bright red.

“That’s different,” she mumbled.

“I think not, Granger.” Draco said, trying to lift his head off the pillow and managing a bit. “You and Potter are both outcasts in your own houses.”

Harry looked incredibly sad, turning his gaze ones more toward the enchanted glass. Hermione, however, was not to be swayed. “So then, what are you? Slytherin’s little prince?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?!”

“You certainly have your little court around you everyday!”

“Those are my friends, Granger…” He sneered at her, the area around his eyes and nose growing dark. “You do know what friends are?”

A short pause then Hermione sniffled.

“Malfoy, stop it!” Harry screamed, jumping up. His cheeks were red and his breathing was labored. Draco and Hermione watched in amazement and fear as white lightning surged between Harry’s fingers. His eyes seemed unnaturally bright and green, too green almost.

“Mercy, Potter, don’t blow up the castle,” Draco snapped, ignoring Harry and plopping back down on the cot. His eyes went back to the ceiling.

It was quiet for a while before Draco looked back over toward the pair where they now sat quietly side by side. Granger’s hand was in Harry’s own and the boy had a tear coursing down one pale cheek. Granger looked up Draco, locking shining brown eyes with his own.

“He couldn’t really blow up the castle… could he?”

Harry looked miserably up at him, wiping at his tears with the back of his hand.

“Well, maybe not the castle, but after what he did to Fester–”

“How do you know about that?” Harry asked, head snapping up to look at him, glasses hanging lopsided on his face.

Draco smirked. “There is a lot that you don’t know about me, Potter.” Then his smirk grew into a half-smile. “Snape.”

***

“I’m a seer, Severus.”

“Narcissa, I don’t have time for foolishness.”

Severus knocked back the small glass of Firewhiskey and then braced himself against the table with both hands. His hair hung down, concealing his face, shielding him like a curtain – like a veil.

She shut her eyes tightly only to see colors swirling and hear a girl’s lofty voice over the whispering of thousands, millions.

“You can hear them too, Harry?”

Her eyes snapped open, finding herself back in the present once more. Narcissa sighed, blinking tears back from her eyes. She walked forward, tentatively placing a hand on Severus’ shoulder. He tensed but eventually made his body relax. She bit her lip and laid her forehead against his back.

His head rose to stare straight ahead.

“You were my best friend for nearly a decade, Severus,” she whispered. “You and Lily both, but I kept so much you... Of course, I told Lily most of it, eventually, but we thought it would be best not to tell you… Don’t ask me why. I don’t think I know anymore…”

“I could always tell when you were lying.”

She straightened up to hug him from behind. He was stiff and tall but she buried her face in the back of his robes regardless. “Do you think I’m lying now?”

“I don’t know what to believe, Narcissa.”

They stood in silence for what seemed like forever and only moments at the same time. Until finally, Severus gently moved her arms off of him. He went and sat down at the table, sitting for a while oblivious to her presence, even when she sat down opposite him.

“What was so important that you needed to see Harry today, of all days? After years of no contact?”

“Even though I saw that it would work, even though I knew without a shadow of a doubt that Harry was your son, I needed to see it with my own eyes.”

“How did you know? How could you possibly–” He looked up into her sad smile. “You saw it happen.”

“Yes,” she whispered. Her eyes were bright with the tears she kept back, refusing to lower herself to feel so much. “There are rules to being a seer, rules I am supposed to follow, without question, without interference. We are called seers because we see not because we use our information at all.

“I went against all this when I told Lily about the potion. It’s possible that she could have found it on her own, but I wasn’t going to take that chance.” One tear fell finally and she swiped at it roughly, disgusted with herself. “Lily deserved better. You deserved better and I was going to be damned if I let Potter win.”

“Then you saw it would work?”

“I never told that part to Lily but I think she might have read it in me somehow…” She let out a breathy laugh through her nose. “She was good at that.”

“…Thank you, Narcissa.”

Severus’ normally cold onyx eyes bore into hers. She smiled at him, feeling the barrier between them close a little, the bond broken at her marriage heal a bit. Leaning across the table, she gripped his cold hands with her own.

“He’s my godson, Severus, and I know you detest me at this time. But please, I have not been apart of his life at all. I promised Lily I would love him like my own. Don’t deny me this.”

“Lucius Malfoy will never come near my son,” Severus growled, leaning his face toward hers.

“Oh, Severus…” She cupped his face with one hand. “If I could get Draco away from him, I would.”

“Draco is my godson, Narcissa and as such, I believe I deserve an explanation.”

She leaned back looking at him with forlorn eyes, seemingly broken like the first year girl, tormented by her cousin and his friends.

“Two years ago, Lucius – through some form of communication, it’s unclear to me – was told that the Dark Lord is alive and well.” Severus nodded as this part was old news to him. As a former Death Eater he, too, had been told about the Dark Lord’s survival.

“But Lucius was told something else as well… told that the Dark Lord is looking for an heir.” Severus stared wide-eyed at her and she ducked her head, tracing the patterns on the tabletop with one long fingernail. When she spoke again, her voice was filled with such hatred that he didn’t recognize it.

“Lucius was determined that his son would be the next Dark Lord. He cast a spell on my baby that would supposedly double Draco’s magical energy–” She looked up, tears flowing down her face, makeup smearing. “–or kill him.”

“Lucius achieved neither, obviously,” she said swiping once more at her tears, scowling at the wetness on her fingers. “Since then, Draco has been violently sick. His magic and the curse are warring against each other. However, his episodes have been infrequent and easily taken care of with the proper medication though he suffers with pain constantly however, muscle aches. But today, he’s never had an attack so soon after taking his medicine.”

She drew in a shaky breath. “It makes me wonder if works any more.”

“I promise to help him, Narcissa.”

“Severus, you have your own child to worry about. Harry has as many problems, more than what Draco faces.”

“I’m his godfather. You can’t tell me that requires no responsibility.”

She leaned forward and patted his face. “You are already the father to him that Lucius could never be.” She looked into his eyes, searching for something. “Despite everything, Lily was the lucky one.”

He gently took her hand away from his face but held it, looking down at it. “Why did you marry Lucius?”

She smiled sadly. “I saw it.”

“But you said you only see. That’s not necessarily the future.”

“Not for seers. What seers see about themselves is that which is inevitable.”

***

Hermione sat by watching as Harry and Draco played chess. She had helped Harry – despite Malfoy’s disapproval – prop the boy up. Harry had plopped down a game box on Draco’s lap that he had found in one of the dresser drawers. Draco had rolled his eyes but instructed Harry on where to set the pieces, once Harry confirmed he’d never played before.

But Malfoy had explained the game to Harry patiently, even when the boy made mistakes. Now, Harry had back Malfoy’s king into a corner.

After instructing his knight to move, Harry surveyed the board before breaking out into a brilliant smile. “I win.”

“Checkmate.”

“What?” Harry asked.

Hermione snickered. Malfoy shook his head. “Checkmate.”

“What?”

“Malfoy, don’t treat him that way!” She looked up from peering out the enchanted window. “Harry, in chess, when you win, you say ‘checkmate’.”

“Oh.”

“Really though,” Draco began, lifting a shaking arm and throwing some pieces haphazardly into the box despite their protests at being mishandled. “Don’t muggles have chess?”

“Yes, muggles have chess!”

“Was I addressing you, Granger?” He drawled lazily, giving up and letting Harry put the game away, ignoring Harry as he sent him quick glare.

“The Dursleys aren’t ones for chess… or games… or anything really besides gossiping and eating,” Harry mumbled, putting the game under the cot.

“Are they the reason you’re so spineless?” Draco asked, staring at Harry with hard eyes.

“Malfoy!” Hermione screeched, her back snapping straight up.

Draco and Harry stared into each others eyes for a while before Draco relaxed into his pillows. “You really should stick up for yourself.” Then he smirked. “Congratulations on having one up on Fester. He really is a bastard.”

“Language, Draco.”

The boy’s face colored at this as the other watched Narcissa and Severus walked back into the room, leaving the door open. Narcissa walked over to give Draco a kiss on his forehead and sat in the chair Harry vacated to walk over to his father. Severus placed one hand on his son’s head.

“Have you three behaved?” he asked, looking at all three children.

“No one’s dead,” Draco retorted, smiling cheekily.

“Who’s a bastard exactly?” asked Narcissa, brushing hair from Draco’s eyes. He pushed her away weakly, face red with embarrassment.

“Lando Fester.” Draco growled, swatting at his mother.

Narcissa looked searchingly at Severus who shook her head at him shortly. She rolled her eyes and looked back at her son.

“Mother,” Draco started, “I need to get back to the dormitory. I know the girls are worried.”

Silence became thick and heavily before Narcissa said quietly to her son, fully aware of the three sets of eyes watching them, “Love, you won’t be going back to the dormitory.”

***

12:36am

“Why aren’t you sleeping?” Severus asked, coming to sit near Harry as he stared into the flames.

“Malfoy was angry.”

“Yes, but Draco knows he has no choice.”

“He’s really sick, isn’t he? That’s why he’s staying here?”

“Yes…” Severus, too, found his eyes straying towards the fire. “But that does not change anything.”

Harry looked up at his father and Severus turned back to Harry. He reached out and ran his fingertips through his son’s hair, loosely curling now, like his mother’s had been. He took Harry’s chin and surveyed Harry’s face again like he had done earlier. “You have more of your mother in you now. Good thing.”

Harry looked at him quizzically and Severus looked sad. “Harry, I’m certainly not a man you would chose to be your father.”

“Sir, I think I did choose you.” Severus’ brows furrowed. “Before today.” A small smile crossed his lips. “I used to wish you would adopt me.”

Severus pulled Harry into his arms. “I love you. I loved you even when I thought you were his.”

Harry was silent but he smiled.

***

Narcissa sat straight up in bed, breaths coming in short gasps. Sweat pouring from her hairline. Her blond locks stuck to her warm face and she quickly pushed the covers away from her. Sitting up on the edge of her bed, she closed her eyes.

Colors. Fire.

The Granger girl. Screaming. Tears. Pain. Blood.

“So the Malfoy boy has it, Draco, is it? Your father was a good servant. I know what he did to you hoping to please me.” Then the bastard spoke to him like he was a toddler. “Shame he’s incompetent.” Then he smiled, sickeningly. “Give it to me, boy!”

“Come and get it, snake face!”

Unnatural movement. A thump. Blood. So much blood.

“Draco!”

The Granger girl again. Movement. Tears. A heartbeat.

“You stay were you are, mudblood, or they die faster.”

A whimper. Fear. Suddenly, wonder. Then, discovery.

A scuffle. An unnatural scream of pain. The smell of burning flesh.

“HARRY!”

February 5th

“Draco’s not here,” Blaise said to Pansy who had been looking at the Great Hall doors for at least ten minutes. “He didn’t come back to the dorms last night.”

Pansy and Daphne stared wide-eyed at Blaise and Millicent pushed her food away giving him her attention.

“Potter didn’t come back either.”

“Professor Snape’s not here,” mumbled Goyle around a bite of food. The group looked at him before each looking up toward the staff table to see for themselves.

“He wasn’t at dinner last night either,” Daphne whispered and began chewing on her fingers. Millicent leaned over and took her hand. Daphne gave her a short glare which Millicent answered back with a pointed look. Sighing, the tiny blonde girl returned to her meal, picking at it.

Blaise rolled his eyes. “Professor Snape is perfectly fine–”

“Of course, he’s perfectly fine,” said Nott as he came up behind Blaise holding a copy of the Daily Prophet. “He made the front page.”

Then he slapped down the paper in a plate of eggs. The others leaned forward to see the large headline blaring at them – HOGWARTS PROFESSOR CLAIMS TO BE THE FATHER OF HARRY POTTER! SUSPECT A POSSIBLE DEATH EATER!

With wide eyes they looked at each other and then up at Nott. But the normally impassive boy was smiling, a glint sparkling in his dark eyes. “Ladies and gentlemen, things just got interesting.”

***

Severus was in an incredibly bad mood from lack of sleep though no sleep might be more accurate. He was quite unsure how today would go, how he could teach after yesterday, after his world had turned on its head.

Harry had a relapse shortly before two in the morning and it affected his nerves severely. Severus had spent most of the night rubbing a special nerve salve on his son’s body. For once he had been grateful that he had some in stock. Thanks to the Dark Lord’s many Cruciatus curses.

The irony was not lost on him.

Then, of course, there were Draco’s attacks and the many administrations of his medication. The boy had been less than cooperative – that was indeed saying it lightly – though deep down, Severus couldn’t blame him. He knew the child had to be in pain. During the times Harry dozed off, the Potions master had spent the rest of the night in his lab, going over notes he’d obtained from Narcissa, trying to find something better for his godson.

Two Slytherins. Two eleven year old boys. Both now his responsibility.

He pulled a hand through his hair, scowling at how greasy it felt. He’d run out of Lily’s special potion weeks ago and hadn’t had the time to make anymore. However, it was simply lovely to hear the wonderful wisecracks the students had about the ‘greasy git’.

Of course, Harry might like to help… He smiled. His son was perfectly capable of creating a third year potion with little to no difficulty.

“Good morning, Professor Snape!” chirruped Fred and George Weasley as Severus strode into the classroom, black robes billowing behind him.

“Ten points from Gryffindor,” Severus snapped, sharply. Hearing snickering, he said a little louder, sneering, “Each.”

He turned to open the cupboard doors and still hearing soft snickering. Clenching his jaw, he tried to stay calm – though for the life of him he had no idea why. Then, he heard rustling and then Lee Jordan’s irritated voice.

“Get off it! After what McGonagall did, we can’t afford to lose any more points!”

“As much as I agree with you, Mr. Jordan,” Severus drawled, strolling over to his desk and flicking a wand at the board which soon filled with his spidery script. “I must take another five for your misconduct in class. Speaking out of turn is much against the rules.”

After smiling silkily at the Gryffindor who glared heatedly at him, Severus straightened up and glanced over at his Slytherins who sat expressionless. He sighed barely perceptively. “The instructions are on the board. This potion is clearly a first year level potion but Ministry curriculum requires it taught in your third year. It is not capable of being an explosive but my years of teaching have taught me to expect anything.”

He did not miss the mischievous, conspiratorial grins of the Weasley brothers.

Welcome back to the real world, Sev, said his thoughts and he found it disconcerting that they began to sound like Lily.

***

“This is boring!”

Harry rolled his eyes. He’d given up trying to placate his classmate because Draco apparently was beyond reconciliation.

Harry rolled over in his bed gingerly, wincing a little at his sore muscles, curling around his cat. Aella gave his hand a lick as it came around to rub behind her ears. He watched as Draco lifted a violently shaking arm and the boy’s face was strained as he tried to keep it aloft. Finally, his strength gave out and it fell back down on the bed.

Draco hissed with pain before letting out his breath in a huff. “Pathetic…”

“Why are you trying so hard?” Harry asked quietly, running a hand down the kitten’s back, which arched to his touch.

Draco looked at him incredulously. “Maybe because I would like to be normal.”

Harry was quiet for a while, turning his attention to his familiar. Draco looked out at the sky through Harry’s window.

Then Harry whispered quietly, keeping his eyes focused on Aella, “What is normal?”

Draco looked back at him. “I’m not really in the mood for a deep philosophical discussion–”

“No!” Harry erupted loudly before realizing what he had done and biting his lip, he whispered, “I mean… for wizards… for us…”

“Not me,” Draco murmured looking down at himself as best he could. “Though for the most part I can appear so.” Before now at least, he thought scowling.

Then he looked up at Harry with surprisingly honest eyes and not a trace of malice in his voice. His eyes flittered up to the boy’s forehead where his lightening scar was now hidden by messy curls, before locking gazes again. “And definitely not you.”

Harry nodded solemnly. He felt tears sting his eyes and he blinked at them furiously, losing the battle.

“Potter – or whatever I’m bloody well supposed to call you – if you start crying again, I’ll find a way to curse you through to next Christmas!”

Harry looked up him with wide eyes. Draco’s pale cheeks were flushed with irritation. “What?” the dark haired boy asked dumbly.

“For Merlin’s sake, Potter!” Draco explained, rolling his eyes. He looked back at Harry, shaking his head. “You stalk about this castle like a kicked puppy. You let yourself get beaten up by Weasley and Finnegan who – together – know as many curses as a rock. Self-defense, Potter. You are top of our class! Use what’s in your fuzzy head for once!”

Harry absently brought a hand up to his curly hair, feeling how frizzy it was after laying in bed. It wasn’t always fuzzy… he thought absently, nibbling his bottom lip.

“How?” Harry finally asked swiping at the drying tears on his face.

“Your mother was a Gryffindor, Potter. Figure it out.”

And with that Draco turned his face away.

***

Surprisingly, he had made it out unharmed, flicking his gaze to the retreating forms of the Weasley twins.

Severus didn’t look up as the rest of the students filed past his desk, placing down potions and essays. He was aware of the Gryffindors’ glaring faces but promptly ignored them, like always. He stayed completely still for a long moment after the procession had ended and he slowly began to relax until he heard the soft cough.

Looking up into dark blue eyes, Severus nodded to Augustine Sage, who stood calmly a few feet from his desk. She had a very slight build for her age, almost as short as the first years. Her black hair was pulled up into a braided bun and the thick rimmed black glasses gave her an almost McGonagall-like look. But the coolness in her eyes and the way she carried herself made her every bit a pureblood Slytherin.

“Can I help you, Miss Sage?” Severus asked lowly, marking the paper below him, scowling at Ronald Weasley’s name scratched on top.

“Professor, I noticed you were not at breakfast,” she stated quietly.

“Indeed.” He made a rather violent mark on Weasley’s parchment – no one can be that stupid – before looking up into Sage’s hard eyes. Finally, he said lowly, “I assume you have a point.”

She smiled softly before imploring, “Did you receive the paper this morning, sir?”

He gave her a guarded look, as his heart began pound in his chest – undetectable by her as his body or his emotions that did not give him away. “Of course… though I have not yet had the time to peruse it.”

Sage nodded then walked forward, carefully placing a rolled newspaper on his desk. He gave her an odd look before unrolling it immediately and snapping it open. It didn’t take him long to find what the girl had wanted him to see. The headline made him go cold and while the world seemed to burn around him.

Augustine Sage, seeing the emotions swirling in her professor’s suddenly unguarded eyes, turned to leave, whispering, “I thought it best you knew…”

***

“Minerva, how pleasant it is to see you this morning!” Headmaster Dumbledore exclaimed jovially before popping a lemon drop into his bearded mouth.

He either effectively ignored McGonagall’s fuming look or never noticed at all.

McGonagall strode forward, muscles tensed, clenching a rolled copy of the Daily Prophet in her long, thin fingers. Her lips were pursed into a thin line as she lay the paper down gingerly on the Dumbledore’s massive desk.

“Albus… would you care to explain that?”

Dumbledore – no doubt already fully aware already of what was in the paper – pushed his spectacles higher on his nose and lifted it to his face. Tense silence passed in the room as McGonagall clenched and unclenched her hands. Finally, the wizened Headmaster lay the parchment down gently and lay his chin on laced fingers.

“Minerva, as much as I would like to, I am not the best one to enlighten you.”

She shook her head, her eyes straying to Dumbledore’s crackling fire in his marble hearth. “Is it true, Albus?”

The old man sighed. “If, indeed, what Severus says is true, then yes, Harry is his son.”

McGonagall’s head snapped back to Dumbledore and she took a step forward, sitting stiffly on the edge of a chair. “But that child is practically a copy of James Potter.”

“If it is true, which I would still be surprised if it was but knowing Lily, the boy, without doubt, will favor Severus much more than before.”

She seemed pensive but the longer Dumbledore peered at her over his glasses, the more she seemed lost, broken.

Lily was almost a daughter to you, Minerva, and you love Harry just as much. I would have thought she would have told you about this. After all, she lost trust me after I…

Even his thoughts could not complete it.

Suddenly, the fireplace erupted with bright green flames and a lopsided, cloaked figure appeared among them. McGonagall jumped up quickly in alarm reaching for her wand. The man hobbled out, leaning heavily on a dark wooden cane topped with the copper rendition of a howling wolf. Wiping soot from his graying blonde hair, he looked up at them with brilliant hazel eyes.

“Remus Lupin?!” McGonagall explained, rushing forward to help the man who had been her student once upon a time. Lupin smiled gently at her, allowing her hands to guide him into a plush chair before the Headmaster’s desk.

“Thank you, Professor,” he said quietly. She nodded as creases of concern formed between her eyes. She placed a hand on the man’s shoulder.

“What are you doing out, Remus…” Dumbledore inquired, leaning forward, “…so soon after the full moon?”

“Albus, I received the paper this morning,” he whispered, looking up at the Headmaster with eyes that seemed to demand attention and obedience.

Dumbledore leaned back in his chair, stroking his beard absently, “Ah, yes… Yes, the Prophet has appeared to create quite a stir today,” He said, nonchalantly and with a sparkle in his blue eyes.

“Albus!” McGonagall scolded like she would one of her own students. Dumbledore leaned back in his chair, peering at her over his glasses. “I don’t believe that it is time for you to be pulling your common tricks! Harry is the one who needs our concern now!”

“I assure you both that Harry is in no harm with Severus.”

“No harm…?” Lupin asked. “Can you imagine what this could do to an orphaned child? Finding out they have a father, this man lying just to possess him? Let alone a man convicted and sent to Azkaban for crimes against the Ministry and the Light army?”

“My boy, Severus has repented of his crimes, a spy for many years and there is no doubt that Severus has paid for his sins these past twelve years.” Then Dumbledore looked up Remus with cool but kind eyes and whispered, “As, no doubt, you have as well, Remus.”

Silence stretched between them then and McGonagall tightened her hand on Lupin’s shoulder. Dumbledore watched them pensively before leaning over to grab another lemon drop.

“Will I even be allowed to see him, Headmaster?”

“That…” Dumbledore stated, leaning forward and laying his chin on steeped hands once more. “…is for Severus to decide.”

And the look in the werewolf’s amber eyes proved to Dumbledore that Remus had come to him only for the easy way. He knew that Remus was determined to never see Severus again.

Too much bad blood between them – all because of a Lily Evans Potter and a group of young boys who became their own destruction.

***

Severus made his way out of his classroom in a hurried fashion. The house elves he had put in charge of the boys had not alerted him at all while he was teaching. More than likely it meant they were physically well for the moment.

Of course, Severus also had the feeling that if Harry had another episode as he did when he was attacked by Lando Fester, nothing as primitive as a house elf would survive. And possibly even Draco in his current state.

Suddenly, while putting a locking spell on his classroom door, a lithe figure ran into him as they came hurriedly around the corner. Seeing in a split second that the person was about to fall backwards, he reached out an arm and grabbed their own, jerking them up against him. The person let their head collapse on Severus’ chest and stayed still for a moment before looking up at him with tear filled grey eyes.

“Narcissa, what…?”

She leaned back swiping gently at her tears. Trembling slightly, she slowly came under control. “It’s nothing, Severus. I just need to see my baby and my godson.”

“Why are you crying?”

“I really don’t feel like explaining anything,” she responded tersely, swiping at her face. Looking up at him, she whispered fiercely, “Let alone the fact that technically I’m not supposed to!”

Severus opened his mouth to give a rebuttal when he was stopped by a soft cough and mumbled, “Sir…?”

Severus looked up to see Hermione Granger dressed in a green sweater and a pleated skirt with her school cloak draped over top. A red and gold scarf hung loosely about her neck. She bit her lip before mumbled, “…Hello…”

“Miss Granger, what are you doing in the dungeons this time?”

“I-I came to see Harry,” she looked up into Severus’ hard eyes before staring quickly back down at her shoes, mumbling, “…sir…”

Narcissa leaned up toward Severus’ ear and whispered softly, “The girl has no friends, Severus. Let her be.”

Severus looked into Narcissa’s beseeching eyes and sighed, looking back at Hermione who was shuffling her feet. “You may see him.”

She flashed a brilliant smile at Severus and opened her mouth – he supposed – to thank him when a low, slightly gravelly voice intervened.

“Good afternoon, Severus, Narcissa.”

All three of them turned to see the loping figure of Remus Lupin. Hermione watched in fascination as her professor’s faced darkened in a horrible sneer. Mrs. Malfoy’s face was in a deep glare, grey eyes like a cool liquid metal.

“What the hell are you doing here, Lupin?” Severus growled, pulling Hermione behind him roughly as if the stranger would attack her in a moment’s notice.

Remus’ eyes were filled with something like grief as he watched Snape needlessly protect the girl. “I would not hurt her, Severus.”

“And you expect us to trust you?” Narcissa asked contemptuously.

Remus seemed unfazed. “No,” he said flatly, hobbling forward a bit.

Narcissa was surprised when Hermione clutched at her robes. She supposed the child had never seen her professor this irate or, frankly, this murderous.

“Severus, perhaps I should take Miss Granger with me to your quarters…?”

“You don’t know the password,” he said quietly not taking his eyes away from Lupin.

Narcissa saw the pain in his eyes and leaned forward to whisper in his ear, “Then tell me.”

Severus stared a long time at the werewolf before leaning down to whisper back into Narcissa’s ear. She jumped away from him after he told her the password, eyes filling with tears again. “Oh… Severus…”

“Go, Narcissa.”

With one last searching look at his stone-like face, she fled toward the inner dungeons. One of her hands was holding Hermione Granger’s own. Granger looked over her shoulder once with curious eyes before rushing along with Narcissa.

Severus watched them go until they rounded the corner. Then, he turned back to his childhood enemy, gliding forward until they were face to face.

“Why are you here, Lupin?” Severus growled, right before grabbing Remus’ robes and shaking him a bit.

“I figured it would be obvious,” he said coolly, “I came to see Harry.”

“Like hell you are going to see my son!”

“I just want to see if it’s true, Severus.” He looked up sadly into Severus eyes. “I know she hated James.”

“With damn good reason!”

“I know. I know.” Remus was sad as he looked off to the side. “But I’ve seen the paper. You’ll need all the support you can get.”

“I’d rather rot in Azkaban like your traitor friend then even have you come near my son.”

Severus turned away, striding toward his quarter when Remus’ words stopped him.

“I apologized for the past, Severus. We can’t change anything now.”

Severus looked over his shoulder at the man before growling, “Go bite yourself, Lupin.”

February 6th

“That boy is You Know Who’s replica! He could be the chosen heir!”

“That is only a myth, my friend.” Dumbledore looked up at the irate Minister of Magic for the second time in only a few days. He sighed, eyes sparkling sadly. “Harry is here to find his place in our world.”

“He’s a monster!”

“What truly lead you to believe that, Cornelius?” Dumbledore asked with great curiosity, hoping he could get the answer finally. “Was it Rita Skeeter’s article when Harry was placed in Slytherin house?” He stared coolly at Fudge, before popping a lemon drop into his mouth

Fudge sputtered before exploding. “That-that thing nearly killed a boy!”

Dumbledore did not look the least bit perturbed. “Harry only had an extreme magical burst during the scuffle. He was acting on pure self defense.”

“Self defense?!” The Minister let out an irritated puff of air. “I have never seen a self-defense so…” Unable to finish, he looked back at Dumbledore. “That boy was cut to ribbons.”

“Severus gave the personnel from St. Mungo’s the counter curse.”

“More than likely he taught that spell to the monster! That was dark magic, Dumbledore.”

Fudge stared wide-eyed at the Headmaster, gaping like a fish. Dumbledore let a small smile cross his mouth.

“I knew it!” He screamed with satisfaction, pumping a flabby arm into the air. “That Death Eater will be out of this castle before you know it – including that monster with him.”

“Severus was a spy for the Light. You know this.”

“What’s to say he didn’t play both sides?”

“He didn’t.” Dumbledore stated gently. “I believe Harry is the proof of that.”

“He impregnated a married woman. A muggleborn!” He looked at Dumbledore with critical eyes. “You expect me to believe he cared for her. There were many muggleborns who birth Death Eater children against their will!”

“Severus and Lily Evans loved each other for many years. Is it really that hard to believe, Cornelius?”

The Minister huffed again and stalked over to admire Dumbledore’s gadgets, likely to calm down.

Lily might even be alive.

Fudge failed to see the small tear falling down Dumbledore’s wrinkled face.

***

Hermione believed they were an odd group with a tortured half-blood boy once believed to be the savior of the world, now believed to be its destruction, another boy with a snippy mouth and pureblood aristocratic attitude, and herself, a plain, nothing-really-special, muggleborn.

“Why can’t Potter help me?”

She turned her attention to the boy beside her. “Because Harry is still weak himself. You already know that, Draco.”

“You do not call me by my given name. You don’t have the privilege.” He effectively ignored Hermione’s glare even as she helped him walk. He looked at the back of Harry’s head. “And why exactly are we going to the Quidditch pitch, Potter? Does Professor Snape have any idea what we’re up to?”

“No…” he mumbled and nibbled his lip a bit. “But I have to get closer to the sky,” Harry said quietly.

“Why?” Draco asked, shivering a bit despite the thick woolen robes he wore.

“Because I can talk to my Mum when I get closer to the sky. It’s why I love flying,” he mumbled, picking up his pace. His face and neck had a reddish tinge to it from likely embarrassment.

Draco stared at Harry’s back before saying lowly, “Yea, Potter, you are definitely not normal.”

Even though she was certain that Harry didn’t even hear what his dorm mate said, she whipped her head fast to look at Draco. “Can’t you be nice?”

“No,” Draco replied smarmily.

Hermione glared at him and began picking up her pace. Draco’s weak legs were beginning to drag in the soggy ground, creating two trails in the mud. “For Merlin’s sake, Granger, slow down!”

“Say you’re sorry to Harry!”

“What?!”

“Do it!”

“Fine! Fine! I’m sorry, Potter!” He screamed and looked at Hermione whose pace seemed to getting faster. “Granger, slow down! I’m getting mud in my shoes!”

“Big deal!”

“These are dragon hide boots!”

“Matches you fire-breathing attitude!”

Once they reached to Pitch, they watched as Harry ran into the middle, where every game began. As Harry was still incredibly weak, no broom would be safe. But he could stare at the best spot of sky in all of Hogwarts grounds. With a brilliant smile on his face, he fell down on his back, spreading his arms and his legs. Draco and Hermione watched in curiosity

“Yea… so not normal,” Draco muttered.

Hermione stomped on his foot. He glared at her darkly but allowed her to take him to Harry. They stayed for a moment – surprisingly neither Hermione nor Draco – spoke a word to the boy as he muttered under his breath words incomprehensible.

“Well, look what we have here!”

Draco stiffed at the voice and Harry bolted straight to his feet, putting his wand in his hand slowly.

Hermione made to pull away from Draco but the boy clamped a shaking hand on her shoulder. “Bloody hell, Granger, you let go and I’ll be on my arse!” he hissed into her ear.

“Then what am I supposed to do?”

“You’re a Gryffindor. Improvise!”

Her glare seemed nearly enough to dry all the mud in his shoes.

“Well, look, my friends… we’ve found our disappearing classmates,” Nott said with an amused smirk at the trio.

All the Slytherin first years walked up until they were only a few feet away. Pansy looked stricken at Draco’s arm wrapped around Granger’s shoulder. Daphne looked confused and a little disgusted. However, the ever-present tears were on her face. Blaise seemed to be holding in laughter at Draco’s flushing face. Millicent and Goyle’s faces looked quite blank. Crabbe was gobbling down a pastry – chocolate all over his mouth – being effectively unaware of the site before him.

“Draco seems to have found new friends,” caroled Blaise as he walked forward to stand beside Nott.

“This is not how it se–” Draco stopped unable to finish his sentence as a violent shaking climbed up his spine. “I’m going to kill my father…” he hissed under his breath. Both Harry and Hermione heard and leaned forward to share a glance.

Harry placed a hand on Draco’s shoulder as he began to sway even in Hermione’s hold. The girl stumbled a bit, barely able to take his shifting weight.

“Draco…What’s going on?” asked Daphne as she walked forward and took a hold of Draco’s jaw, smiling at him. Her hand moved up and the smile soon left his face, a fearful stare taking its place. She slowly brought her hand back and stared, horrified, at the glistened red on her finger tips.

“Blood…” she whispered, staring at Draco with wide eyes holding a sort of morbid wonder.

Draco began shaking, looking up at Daphne with almost blank eyes. Then, slowly, blood flowed from his eyes like tears. His nose began to gush and he could no longer keep his balance, as his entire weight fell on Harry and Hermione. The same red liquid – undoubtedly blood – poured down both sides of his neck, flowing from his ears. The Slytherin first years watched in horror as Harry and Hermione struggled to lay him on the ground.

Suddenly, everything caught up with Daphne as she let out a piercing scream, falling to her knees away from them.

“Oh my…” Millicent muttered.

“This is… interesting…” Nott said walking forward to admire Draco’s pain.

“Get away from him!” Hermione screamed, jumping up into Theodore’s face.

“Fiery little mudblood,” Blaise purred coming near Hermione but jumped back when she whipped out her wand. “Easy… your filthiness…”

“Potter did this! Potter’s cursed him! Just like Fester!” screeched Pansy.

“Technically, Fester was cut till nearly there wasn’t any skin left. Draco is apparently bleeding from the inside out.” Nott replied in a teasing tone.

“Now is not the time to play games, Theo! He is dying and Potter will have killed him!”

Harry looked up at them with wide eyes and suddenly, Draco’s words from yesterday echoed in his mind. Your mother was a Gryffindor, Potter. Figure it out.

“What does it matter, Pansy?” asked Blaise silkily. “Draco was so eager to befriend Potter at the beginning, after all.”

“And maybe, just maybe, Potter will be the next Dark Lord!” Pansy retorted sarcastically.

“SHUT UP!” Harry screamed jumping to his feet, eyes bright, cheeks flushed. “I did nothing to Draco!”

“First name basis, Potter?”

“For Merlin’s sake, Zabini, Potter has not cursed me in any fashion,” said Draco with a cracking voice, finally breaking out of the attack. He didn’t complain as Hermione helped him sit up. “So lay down your words.”

“Strong declaration for an eleven-year-old, Mr. Malfoy,” stated a voice from the entrance, the trio had come through. Harry, Hermione and Draco stiffened as Professor Snape strolled forward between the two groups.

“Now, what is exactly is going on here?” he asked silkily.

“Potter’s cursed Draco!” Pansy screamed hysterically. “He could have died. He still could die!”

“I assure you, Miss Parkinson, Draco is in no danger of dying.” At least at this time…His thoughts finished for him and he scowled deeply.

The fleeing thought left him as he caught eyes with his father and Severus quickly turned to the other Slytherins. Harry watched in amazement as Severus cast a spell on every person simultaneously and zippers came over their mouths. Pansy looked stricken. Daphne looked horribly frightened, tears coursing fast down her face. Nott seemed calm and collected. Goyle and Millicent were patting their mouths confusedly. Goyle tried to take a bit of his second pastry – which had appeared from his robe pocket – and found that to be impossible, smashing the sweet against his lips.

But Harry watched in fascination as Draco chuckled weakly at Blaise’s terrified face. “What’s the matter, Zabini? Can’t waggle your cocky tongue anymore?”

“Draco…” Severus said lowly, turning his head to the trio, eyes focusing on his godson. “That is enough.”

“Yes, sir,” he muttered bitterly. Then he noticed Hermione’s tears. “Why are you crying, Granger?”

She pursed her lips even though her bottom lip wobbled. She opened her mouth but no sound came out. Then she slapped him hard on the shoulder.

“Bloody hell, Granger! That hurt!”

“Draco, language…” Severus ordered, staring at the boy with cool eyes – the eyes of Professor Snape, not Severus, not Harry’s father. The eyes of Professor Snape were nearly the same as the eyes of the Death Eater – spy or not.

“Sir…?” Harry asked timidly.

Severus turned to him, face slowly morphing into kind eyes and a smile, hidden from the other Slytherins. Hermione, Draco and Harry all seemed relax a bit but they stiffened once more at the professor’s words.

“Miss Granger, escort them back to the dungeons.”

“But, sir, I–” she started but Severus held up a hand.

“A flower, Miss Granger.” He couldn’t help but smirk at the realization on her as she spared a glance at Harry.

Harry gave Severus a small smile and his father nodded at him. “We’ll discuss this later,” Severus said for only Harry to hear. Harry nodded, nibbling his lip again and wrapped Draco’s other arm around his neck.

“This is so embarrassing,” Draco moaned as they led him away.

“You’ll survive,” Hermione hissed at him.

***

“How bloody long do we have to wait here!”

“Technically, you live here now. In your state, apparently you shouldn’t go anywhere, especially when you’re acting like a git. Which I’ve noticed that that is every second you are awake.”

Draco rolled his eyes, then looked at the fire with a short glance before turning to Harry. “Potter, please, I beg you. Get this bushy beast away from me.” He said in a mocking desire.

But Harry didn’t answer. He was curled up in Professor Snape’s favorite chair, hugging a pillow tightly. His eyes stared into the flames, lost deep in his thoughts. His brow was furrowed and tears laced his eyes, but they did not fall.

“Harry, what’s wrong?” Hermione asked quietly.

Harry opened his mouth but stopped when the fire glared bright green. Harry held his breath, unsure how to approach his father after his disobedience. But the figure in the fire was not Severus but a small figure in expensive robes.

“Mother?!” Draco exclaimed in surprise. “I thought you were going to go to Paris with father.”

“We have other problems,” she said sadly, staring at Draco and then Harry, even putting a small pitying look at Hermione.

“Mum,” Draco let the formalities go, nervous at her disheveled form. “What’s going on?”

“I just need to talk to you, love. Nothing is wrong.”

Then muffled screaming came from the outside corridor. Narcissa was certain that Severus had sound proofed the walls. Shaking her head, she motioned for the children to stay put. As soon as the door opened, a blonde man in ragged clothing fell on the ground clutching his right eye.

She peered down at the man, then jumped back as he was a poisonous snake. “Lupin?! What the hell?!” Snape then stalked forward, kicking Lupin in the ribs as he went. “Severus, what is going on?!”

Severus ignored her as he hauled Remus up by the collar of his robes, growled something at the other man none of the others could hear. Then, Severus tossed him into the hallway.

Then, as soon as he closed the door, he stalked into the small kitchen area. Narcissa whispered to the children to stay seated and as she left she saw the frightened look on Harry’s face.

She entered the kitchen just as a wine glass shattered at her feet. She looked up, shocked as poured the Firewhiskey down the sink.

“Sev, what’s going on?” she asked gently, stepping over the shards and coming toward him. Once her hand reached his shoulder, he whirled around and threw the empty liquor bottle at the stone wall. Narcissa yelped as tiny pieces scratched her arms and face.

“Severus, talk to me,” she pleaded softly.

“Perhaps…” he sighed and then finished lowly. “Perhaps Lupin is right… I am not fit to be Harry’s father.”

Narrowing her eyes, Narcissa grabbed his face roughly, pulling at his chin until he looked her in the eyes. “You are suitable. You are the only one who can save that child.” He watched as her eyes filled with tears. “Lily chose you to be Harry’s father. Lily trusted you. She loved you with all that she had… Don’t you think that should be enough?”

He nodded then pulled her into a hug. He sobbed once and only once but he allowed Narcissa to hold him. It was as if they were back in school, thicker then family. Only Lily was gone now and that meant everything.

***

Hermione watched as Draco walked like a drunken man, leaning heavily on the ebony dragon-headed cane. It was sad really. As much as she disliked him, she would never wish such pain on people. Even Draco Malfoy.

“What is it, Granger?” Draco growled as he made his way to the couch in front of the dwindling fire. “Gawking apparently is not beyond Gryffindors.”

“I wasn’t gawking.” She sighed, gazing at the embers. “I feel sorry for you.”

“I don’t want your pity,” he snarled then collapsed on the couch.

Hermione looked over him. “It’s not pity… because I admire you,” she whispered turning her eyes to Draco. He stared into hers for a long time before he looked back at the fire, nodding his head absently.

Then, the sound of a pair of plodding feet reached them and they watched as Harry came through, socked feet scooting on the ground. He looked at both their pensive faces then sat down in the same chair as earlier, curling into a ball.

“So, Potter, what’s your punishment?”

“I have to help him with medicinal potions for the two weeks.”

“What a punishment,” Draco’s sarcastic attitude put a smile on Harry’s face. “You love potions.”

Harry looked at Draco, still smiling. “He said it would be different if I directly disobeyed him again.”

Draco knew that Granger wouldn’t understand his smile at these words. Draco could, but he wasn’t about to divulge any information about himself. He was still learning after all.

They sat in silence for a long time, they could faintly hear the scratching of Severus quill in his study. From the sounds coming from that room, it was extremely safe to say the papers would practically bleed with red ink.

“I have to tell you something,” Draco mumbled but Harry and Hermione caught it, leaning forward as much as they could without them all sharing the same seat.

“We, all of us, have to find the Philosopher’s Stone.”

Hermione stared at him in shock while Harry looked quizzicaly at him.

“That makes a person immortal," Hermione stated, most likely for Potter's benefit. "Why in the world do we have to find it?” Hermione asked skeptically.

“We just do.” Draco replied, eyes straying once more to the dying flames before him. “You just have to trust me.” Then he saw Harry biting his bottom lip again. Draco leaned toward him as much he could with a twinkle in his gray eyes. “It’s not disobeying if they don’t order you not to.”

Hermione rolled her eyes and Harry smiled a little, not entirely convinced but wanting to be.

***

He sat in the dark. Always in the dark. His master preferred it that way. Dark, silent, alone.

Only this man was never alone. His master was always with him.

He couldn’t help but shiver as he replied, “My lord, one of your inner circle as betrayed you.”

“Do not play games with me.” The voice hissed. “What is his name?”

“Severus Snape, sir.”

“But Severus is so loyal to me…” the voice said seemingly to itself.

“Snape was only loyal to one person, a mudblood in Dumbledore’s little Order…” Quirrel trailed off a bit, unsure how to say what he had found next. “Snape is Harry Potter biological father. According to Dumbledore, his features have changed. The story has reached the papers.”

His master made a contemplative noise. Quirrel shivered.

“Perhaps I could kill the boy…?” he asked his master gently, unable to disguise the hope in his eyes – not that his master could ever see them.

“I could go now, my lord,” he burst out eagerly.

“No, you must keep up appearances.” Quirrel’s eyes strayed to the piles of papers on his desk. “It is time for me to feed.”

Quirrel nodded then and shook violently as he felt his master slip away. But he was never truly alone. He could still feel the cold, clawed hand in his mind.

He looked down at the long length of cloth in his hand, enjoying its empty presence away from his body.

March 2, 1991

One Month Later

After weeks of searching in books, pouring over old scrolls that he wondered just how Granger got her hands on them. Weeks of whining and dealing with a slowly healing Potter – himself as well he supposed – though Potter’s wellness was kept in the safe confines of Professor Snape’s quarters. Draco often wondered what would happen if he was thrust back into the snake pit.

Their search for the Philosopher’s stone was going nowhere. Until, surprisingly, the most important information came from the back of old dusty, rotting book and a Chocolate frog card.

Draco had wanted to scream. Potter was exhausted. And Granger was in euphoria with her nasty book.

Yet, despite everything they had learned – most of it he knew already not that he would tell Potter or Granger – he still couldn’t understand why they stood there of all places. They had all become Hogwart’s outcasts, definitely Potter more than himself or Granger for sure, not himself for all the Oblivious curses Snape cast on the Slytherin first years.

Just because they had become a team, in the weakest sense of the word, that was no reason to walk unaided into a death trap. And especially, just because Granger said so.

He could hear sounds coming from inside, past the black spindling trees. He felt his heart pounding in his chest. His hand was even slipping a bit from his cane. Even more alarming was the slight trembles that rocked his body.

Fighting against the fear in his voice, he asked, “Again, why are we going into the Forbidden Forest?”

Harry shook his head at his new pseudo-friend and Hermione rolled her eyes. Draco really wished they’d get stuck that way.

“Because unicorns are being killed.” Hermione replied snippily, and then she stuck her nose in the air. “Hagrid said so.”

Draco certainly wasn’t convinced. So he turned to Granger, scowling. “Perhaps, Hagrid is eating them like the giant half-breed burden he is.” Hermione glared at him in the dark, but the shadows lessened the affect as she appeared to be frightened. He turned his head away from her. “And, again, what does that have to do with the Stone?”

“Mercy, Draco, do you read?”

“Of course, you twit!” he sneered, scowling at her for calling him ‘Draco’, as if they were the best of friends. He would not coerce with a muggleborn. He’d been raised not to. Of course, his upbringing would demand he kill Granger. He had obviously not done so within the past month.

“Draco, what are you so afraid of?” Harry asked, quietly, peering over his shoulder at him.

This past month was good for Potter, just as his mother predicted – being with friends, a new family and hidden away from his tormentors. Potter ate it up, but Draco was more concerned with what would happen once his vacation ended.

“There are spiders–” Hermione snickered at him and he glared back at her “–centaurs–” Then, something howled in the distance. Draco shivered. “–Werewolves!”

“Tonight’s not a full moon. You can relax.”

“Relax?! Are you mental, Granger! You will agree with me when a centaur puts an arrow through your skull!”

“Hush, both of you.”

“Finally glad to see you becoming assertive, Potter.” Draco snapped, looking into Potter’s calm eyes. No person could change this much in a month. “However, now is a bloody bad time! Surely, surely you’ll pick my side, right, Potter?”

“Harry!” Hermione screeched under her breath

“Potter.” Draco smirked.

Harry sighed and marched past the trees. Draco winced – I liked him better when he a persecuted little whelp – then yelped as Hermione took his arm and began to drag him in toward the forest. His weak feet tried to keep up with his torso.

“Granger!” he said, after a large root shook his legs.

“Come on, you big baby!”

“Seems I’m being forced to, you frizzy-haired fruitcake!”

Neither saw Harry’s smile.

***

It was delicious, soothing. Feeling the creature dying by his teeth, drinking in life, it was wonderful feeling.

But despite all this, he cursed this ghostly shell he existed in. All because of child, a mere infant. Perhaps, the boy’s mother had done something before she died at his hand. But she had only faced him and he killed her just as she turned away.

No time to create a protective spell of that magnitude. He doubted they even existed.

And no mudblood, certainly, could create any shield to stop the Killing Curse. The feat was far above her. Silly piece of filth. He only wished he had had the time to play with her but the brat was the most demanding issue at hand.

Cursed boy.

Suddenly, low voices reached him. At first he counted them as Centaurs and hurried to finish his beastly meal. But he perked up as the voices came clearer. Looking up, smiling wickedly in the direction they were in. He stayed in position.

Children… Surely, he would finally get to play.

“Granger, I’m not an invalid! I can make it on my own!” A boy’s voice, eloquent lessons perhaps. Most likely Pureblood Aristocracy.

“You’re still weak!” a little snappish, more likely a mudblood that did not go by the rules – not that they ever did go by the rules of the Aristocracy. He decided her foolishness would get her killed in later years, not obeying her superiors.

“I believe that’s what the cane is for, Hermione.” Another child, a low soft voice, not the tone of a pureblood but he seemed refined enough, calmer than his companions. A young Gryffindor perhaps… or a half-blood Slytherin even…

Then, he sniffed the air and something made his heart – if it even existed that is – grow cold. It was the same sickeningly metallic smell he had smelt nearly eleven years ago.

The day he stepped forward into baby Harry Potter’s nursery, that smell was unique to the child. But only the most powerful of wizards and witches could smell it. He had no doubt that Dumbledore possessed the ability. He had apparently done a fine job of hiding it.

And where was Severus in all this? He wondered. Was the mudblood wench a tasty treat or the vermin that led you from my side…?

He looked up as their voices drew closer. Harry Potter, what are you doing out with your little friends? Away from the safety of the castle… From your supposed father…?Did you feel me here, you lucky brat…?

Just as they topped the hill, the dark-haired child feel to his knees, writhing in pain, clutching his forehead. The others screamed at him and the girl fell beside him. Mumbles. Sobs. And then the child looked up at him with green eyes he would never forget.

“Potter…” he purred gliding toward the boy.

The weak child with a cane held up his wand but the boy was shaking and leaning heavily on his crutch. The light hair and the face were undeniable.

“What do you intend to cast, young Malfoy.” Draco stared at him with wide eyes, a small bit of fear in his gray eyes. “Flowers, perhaps…?” He laughed breathily at this. “Or did you come to sacrifice your friends to me…?” He laughed again. “What a gift, Draco… that you bring me a filthy mudblood and the Boy Who Lived.”

Draco began to shiver violently, and blood began to trickle from his nose. The bushy haired girl stood up and grabbed him bringing him down beside Potter. She held him on her lap like a baby and quickly administered what looked like sludge into the boy’s mouth.

All the face that could be seen from under the hood of the Dark Lord was a malicious grin of wicked happiness.

Suddenly, Harry sprung up and held his wand in the monster’s face. Voldemort leaned back in surprise before twirling around the boy’s body, laughing as Harry jerked around wildly. He stood his ground and his striking emerald eyes, jerked wildly, standing out in a pale sunken face.

His mother’s eyes…

“My dear boy, you look different than what I imagined. Certainly not a shadow of James Potter in you… Perhaps, saintly Lily Potter was not as saintly as they say.”

“Do not talk about my Mum!” Harry erupted. Draco and Hermione watched him with suprise in their eyes as this had been the first time they ever heard Harry raise his voice above a whisper.

“Ah, but child, don’t you want to bring her back to you? I have that power…. Join me. Be my heir and you will have the family you’ve dreamed of.”

Harry looked unsure, gazing down at Hermione and Draco. He stared into Draco’s eyes for a long time before Draco whispered softly, “No spell can awaken the dead, Potter…”

Voldemort swept up into the child’s face. Harry jumped but kept his stance. “No!” the Dark Lord screamed, then responded gently to his outburst. “No, the boy is lying. With the stone, we can bring her back.”

“Harry,” Draco whispered. “Trust me…”

Harry stared at the monster’s still form and suddenly, his scar split open, blood pouring down his face. A shining white light surrounded him, pouring not just from his wand but his entire body. He barely registered the monster’s flee into the trees, or the hoof prints pounding the dirt, coming toward them. He thought he heard Hermione scream and looking up he saw her, his mother, standing in the light.

“Mum…” he whispered, yearning for her to be real, to hug him, to kiss his forehead and tell him everything would be okay, but she began to fade away.

He cried out to her, reaching for her disappearing ghostly form and fell to the ground.

“Harry!” Hermione screamed his name.

And then, the pounding got louder and he heard Draco screaming in pain, felt Hermione’s fingernails digging into his arm.

Then, darkness….

***

Hagrid was having a normal nightly round of the grounds before calling it a night. Fang lopped beside him, on the side farthest from the forest. It was no news to Hagrid that his dog was certainly not a beastly hero. However, he was the only family Hagrid had and he served his purpose, at least to his master.

The moon was nearly full but not quite. So they were safe for the night. Though, Hagrid was amused when the sounds of the forest reached his dog’s ears. Fang was an entertaining site, shaking with all his bulk.

But as Hagrid cast a glance at Fang he seemed different, sniffing the air with earnest and getting ahead of his master. Hagrid watched him confused and then, suddenly, Fang bolted into a run.

“Silly creature,” Hagrid mumbled, hurrying after him.

Once he reached the place his familiar had went, he stared down in shock. Three school bags sat in a pile and with his heart racing with fear, he swung his lantern over the soil leading to the trees. Three small tracks led into the forest, past the black trees, and straight past the darkness.

It occurred to him that he should alert the heads of houses, but he quickly unlatched one pack and pulled out a textbook, Standard Book of Spells, Year One.

With wide eyes he stared into the forest, before he bolted to his feet and running as fast as he could to his cabin. He needed to alarm Dumbledore. They needed to find those three foolish children before they became a meal to a ghostly creature.

***

“Granger… is he moving?” Draco asked quietly, ignoring the pounding sound coming, like demented thunder.

She shook her head, her tears falling on his face. Draco grimaced at this but said nothing. He heard a whistling as an arrow came over Hermione’s head and with a solid thunk on the tree behind her.

Looking up with wide, panicked brown eyes, she stared into the blackest of depths from within a scared face. Then her eyes trailed down his bow and to the body of horse that kept the man’s torso connected.

“Centaurs…” she whispered, half in awe and half in fear.

The scared one looked around as others filed in next to him. The creature looked at where his arrow had landed and then to Hermione. Leaning down, he whispered, “Next time, human, I will not miss.”

Hermione whimpered and clutched Draco’s hand, the other gripping Harry’s unresponsive one. Draco stared at her with an inquiring face before looking back the threatening black beast, sneering. The creature narrowed his eyes and reached for the dagger at his waist – if that was it was to be called, long and wicked looking as it was – only to be stopped by another of a lighter color, nearly as white as the corpse of the unicorn.

A tan centaur bounded forward, seeming a bit younger in his face and demeanor. On his handsome face was a wide, silly smile and a mad glint in his eye. “Look, Lacrosse, Dumbly’s little pets!”

The black one – Lacrossse – sneered back at Draco and then he turned to the one who had stopped him from attacking

“Firenze, now is not the time to play savior to three human brats who don’t know their place.”

“But sir,” said the lighter one – Firenze – “All three are innocents and is wounded.”

Hermione, feeling her courage, looked up into Firenze’s eyes. “Is he… alive?”

“Yes, the Boy Who Lived still lives.”

“The Boy Who Lived?!” erupted a roan-colored centaur from the back, in shock and amazement.

“That is a human problem and is no reason for them to live,” Lacrosse snarled brutishly, lunging with his dagger again but Firenze pushed him back with surprisingly more strength.

“Leave them in my care, sir,” Firenze said quietly. “I can return them safely to the castle and I’m sure they will not enter again.”

Lacrosse seemed to think about it before sheathing his knife. “If they enter our realm again, they will be dead.” He cast a sideways look at Firenze. “Dead – just as you will as well, my brother.”

Firenze nodded and smiled gently at the three. Hermione cast a small invisibility charm over them - no where near the strength it should have been had she been a fully trained witch. Hermione looked at Draco who nodded his head and she whimpered one last time before she left the boys behind. Firenze was there beside her, leading her safely from the trees and all the evil that accompanied it.

Draco now had enough strength to sit up on his own. He stared at Harry, who now appeared to be caught in the middle of a nightmare.

Draco sighed, not bothering to wake Harry, and said under his breath, “Just you and me, Potter.”

A loud screeching scream pierced the forest’s scuffling music. Draco shivered and hugged himself tighter. He didn’t have anyone to impress in the Forbidden Forest, after all.

***

“Headmaster! Headmaster!”

Dumbledore seemed calm at the screaming coming from outside his door. McGonagall was so startled that she jumped, spilling hot tea over her fingers. Wincing, she looked up as Hagrid came thundering in.

Dumbledore gave him a placid smile and promptly offered a lemon drop. McGonagall rolled her eyes at her superior and looked at the gamekeeper. “What is the matter, Hagrid?”

The half-giant stood still for a moment trying to catch his breath still. Finally, he talked even if he was bumbling over his words.

“Students – first years – forest – not allowed – could be killed!”

McGonagall’s face went pale and she looked over at Dumbledore. He leaned forward steepling his fingers to rest his chin upon them. “Are you saying, my boy, that three students are in the Forbidden Forest?”

“First-years?!” McGonagall screeched

“Screeching again, Minerva?” asked Severus dully, as he came from behind Hagrid. “You wanted to see me, Headmaster?”

“Yes, I did but now there appears to be more important matters at hand.” Severus raised a brow. “Three first years have entered the Forbidden Forest.”

Severus furrowed his brows and opened his mouth to speak, when a tiny little man in a nightcap and a girl with frizzy hair bigger than her own head ran in. McGonagall quickly lay down her tea and rushed to the girl, who almost tackled her, seeking comfort. The child was mumbling and sobbing. “Alive… alone… but what if… dead… only friend…”

Severus had grown cold at this and walking forward, jerked the child from his colleague. He looked down into Hermione Granger’s frightened, bloodshot eyes.

“Miss Granger,” he drawled, questioningly.

“I-I-I’m sorry sir… It was my idea… I shouldn’t have talked them into it,” she sobbed, leaning a little into Severus’ body. “Harry, help him…please.”

Severus immediately turned on his heel and rushed from the room. Dumbledore waved to Hagrid to follow him.

The only sound left in the room was the Granger girl’s sobbing.

***

Draco jumped as another howl reached his ears and clutched at Harry’s unresponsive form. He felt Harry jerk under his hand and he looked over at him. The boy was sweating profusely and tossing, turning in the dirt.

Then he began to speak.

In a voice not his own – the same one they had just encountered, the reason Potter was lying in a waking sleep

“I will win, Harry Potter. I will kill you,” purred the sickening voice from Harry’s innocent face.

Draco watched in horror as Harry’s eyes snapped open – bright green eyes transformed into bright red eyes. Draco’s breathing became rapid and he struggled with his weak body to get away. It was useless. He shivered violently as maniacal laughter erupted from Harry’s small body. Then, his head turned slowly to look at him.

“Even you, Mister Malfoy.”

Draco felt cold wrap around his heart and he let out a piercing scream.

“Hello, Severus…”

Severus stopped cold, staring in horror at his son’s morphed eyes. Red that seemed to glow covered up the once innocent emerald irises. Draco was hyperventilating, screaming then mumbling. The tiny group that had followed Hermione and the centaur toward the boys’ location stood in paralyzing fear. Draco had screamed for Hermione to go back to the castle, this alerting Severus and Hagrid at once. Fang, once by Hagrid’s side, went running to the castle as fast as his bulk would allow.

“Don’t you miss me, Severus?” Harry – no not Harry – the Creature smiled wickedly.

He knew without a doubt just who held his son hostage in his own body

Severus watched as the boy’s cheeks began to sink into his mouth and the malnutrition in his body became severe. The child began to transform into a being that was merely flesh and bone.

Would you ever see his son again – the same child he used to be?

With his long ebony wand in his hand, he pointed it at his child’s form. Hatred was over his face, scowling, and he gritted his teeth. Yet, from the monster held at bay and laughter was heard coming from Harry’s mouth.

“I had forgotten how much I enjoyed your games.”

“Get – out – of – my –son!” he snarled.

“You want to kill me, Severus?” the monster purred. “I’m afraid you’ll have to kill the boy as well – weakling that he is.” The eyes that had been looking around casually now stared into Severus own. “How did the mudblood taste, Severus? Did she fight you off or did she take it like the whore she was.”

“Litgol Occulus!” Severus screamed with an odd black fire in his eyes and suddenly, a bright pink light enveloped his son. He seemed to relax after the light faded but those blood-shaded eyes stared back at him still, now in amusement.

“Impressive but not quite up to bar.” The creature’s smile widened, distorting Harry’s face even more

But then, the sallow-cheeked figure formed back into Harry’s childish form. Severus and Hagrid, who watched from far away, all watched in surprise and hopefulness on their faces. Severus looked down as he heard a loud commanding voice coming from Draco.

“Time to wake up, Potter!” Draco screamed, pounding one fist into Harry’s chest. “Remember what you saw before he took your mind! Focus on her!”

Hagrid rushed over to seize Draco, pulling him away from Harry’s body and holding him in a tight grip. But despite Draco’s prejudice, he ignored who held him and still screamed at Harry. Severus looked down and saw Harry’s furiously blinking eyes changing from red to green and back again. Until, finally, they stayed on a green hue only now his eyes where blank with tears falling down his face.

“Mum… mum… Mummy, no!”

Suddenly, Harry had trembles that took over his body, his limbs flailing against invisible hands and screaming hysterically. Severus rushed forward to take his son but Harry fought back his father’s encasing heavy arms. It was as if he wasn’t really seeing. It was as if he was stuck in some kind of warped, waking dream.

Dodging a blow to the face, Severus worked to hold Harry still, cradled like an infant to his chest. Finally, the boy grew weak, locked in his father’s arms. Still whimpering, tears falling down his flushed cheeks, he looked into nothingness, desperately whispering, “Mummy, don’t leave me…”

Then a voice came out of Harry’s mouth, a voice not the Dark Lord’s, a voice almost like an angel. “I’ll never leave you, baby… Now calm. You need to rest…”

“But Mum, I’m trapped.” Severus felt his strong heart take a weak flip. It couldn’t be. He couldn’t be.

Lily…?

No, impossible…

“Yes,” the voice replied from the same mouth, “You are trapped in your father’s arms. The best place to be for either of us…”

Harry’s body began to relax and his gentle tears turned into gut-wrenching sobs. His hands suddenly clamped over Severus’ arms and his body began to lean heavily on his father’s chest. Severus heard soft sniffles for a while until they finally stopped, replaced with deep and even breathing.

Severus looked up at Hagrid. “Is he sleeping?”

“Yes,” muttered Draco in relief that Severus raised a brow at, who was focusing on Harry with unblinking eyes. Was he that worried about Harry that he ignored completely the half-giant who had him clamped in his massive arms? At the look from his godfather, the old Draco appeared to surface, looking up at Hagrid best he could, he spat out, “You can lower me, you great buffoon!”

Hagrid rolled his eyes and stood the boy up, not knowing to support him as he tried to stand on his own. Draco swayed a bit before falling on his hands and knees faster than the stunned Hagrid could catch him. The boy winced as his body struck hard and he stared at the muddy ground, snarling.

“Draco?” asked Severus, standing up with Harry’s limp form cradled in his arms.

“I’m fine, professor.” Draco snarled. “I’m beginning to like the muck.”

Severus smiled at his godson and was relieved when Draco smirked back at him. The boy looked over his shoulder at a stunned Hagrid. “Go find my cane, you oaf!”

***

“He is healthy for the most part, Severus.”

“Madam, are you sure? Even his mind?”

Poppy Pomfrey sent a slight glare at Narcissa Malfoy for second guessing her work. “His brain waves were normal. I found no damage to the functions and no hint of the other presence you warned me of. The only injuries he sustained were to his magical core.” She looked up at Severus, “Did he have another episode, like before?”

Severus looked down at the puffy-eyed, flushed-cheeked Hermione Granger and the stone-faced Draco Malfoy. Hermione said not a word, only bit her lip and closed her eyes, two tears falling from them. Draco looked up at Severus, nodding and saying not a word.

Severus finally turned to face the two, looking away from his son’s still form. “What exactly were you doing in the Forbidden forest?” he asked lowly, but piercingly.

Hermione opened her mouth to speak – no doubt in great pain holding back an answer to a professor - until Draco hit her with his cane. The girl looked at Draco with wide eyes and he shook his head at her.

Severus scowled at the two and then leaned down into Draco’s face. “My son could have been KILLED!”

Draco winced and stumbled back at Severus explosion and almost falling had Narcissa rushed to brace him. Hermione squeaked, grabbing a hold on Draco’s arm. He cast a glance at her, looking at her and then, sharing a gaze with a hidden message before looking back at their Potions Master.

“Severus, scaring them is not going to work.”

He whipped his head to stare at Narcissa, standing behind the children and said, anger dripping, “You told them something, didn’t you?”

“No, I only spurred their interest,” she replied plainly.

Draco and Hermione stared at Narcissa in shock and she offered them a small smile. Draco watched her with wide eyes before blurting, “Mum?!”

Severus stalked over to her and she only raised her head to him, smile still there. “Why are you meddling now?” He growled.

She let out a short laugh. “My dear Severus, if it wasn’t for my meddling, you would not have a son. Lily would have never been intrigued enough to search for the potion.” She sighed. “I only offered them a tiny piece in this puzzle. The rest is of their own accord.” She placed his cheek, whispering, “Let Fate take its course, love.”

His face seemed to fall and he glanced at his son’s form. “I will lose him, Cissy, if I let that happen.”

“A wise woman once told me, believe in the present and the future you’ll find out soon enough.” Severus stared at her and Narcissa smiled brightly at him. “Of course, Lily never did listen to her own advice.”

Severus turned away from her and sat in the chair by his son’s bed, gripping his hand. Harry’s fingers moved faintly in his father’s and Severus put his head down on his son’s arm. “He’s all I’ve got left of her.”

“I know.” Narcissa whispered. “Just hold him tight, Severus.”

One dry sob came from Severus and he crawled onto Harry’s bed, holding him in his arms. One of Harry’s arms came up to grip at his father’s robes. The boy breathed in deeply with his nose and smiled.

“I can’t lose him,” Severus muttered.

“And maybe you won’t have to.” Narcissa whispered, leaning in to give Severus a kiss on his forehead and caressed Harry’s black curls. “Hold on to hope.” Severus looked up at her and she smiled brightly. “He is a strong child – much like both his parents. You’ll be surprised.”

***

As soon as Narcissa reached Severus’ quarters with Draco and Hermione behind her, she ushered them quickly to sit before the fire. Draco sat down first and Hermione sat down almost knee to knee with him. He gave her a weak glare – not that she noticed.

Narcissa glided in and fell to her knees before the children. She placed both hands on one of the children’s cheeks. She smiled at Draco and turned to Hermione, compassion in her eyes. “This is not your fault child.”

The poor girl began sobbing and Narcissa reached up to hug her, Draco watching with surprise. Narcissa gently wiped the tears from Hermione’s face and then she looked at her son. “Draco, even I didn’t know that the Dark Lord would make such a brazen action against Harry. Though it appears that if he possessed Harry once, he might have the strength to do it again.”

“Then what do we do? What could three children do against a wizard that powerful… that evil?” Hermione whispered.

“You are brave, Miss Granger, braver than you think. Otherwise you wouldn’t be placed in Gryffindor.”

“I don’t know how…” Hermione mumbled, and Narcissa stroked her frizzy curls in the same manner that she had done Harry before leaving the Infirmary.

“You will find it,” she said gently. Then, Narcissa made the girl look her in the eyes. “Trust me.” Hermione smiled wobbly.

Narcissa smiled back at her. “Now, child, go up to your dorms. It very much past curfew and breakfast is nearer than you think.”

Hermione’s face finally looked relieved as she stood up, leaning down to give Draco a peck on his temple. He gave her a weak glare but she was soon gone, without looking back.

Narcissa face turned sad after the door shut and she placed a hand once more on her son’s cheek. His eyes went over to the smoldering fire, pursing his lips.

“Baby,” he hesitated before looking at her. “You saw something.”

“Of course, I saw something, Mother! I saw Potter being a host for the Dark Lord!” he snapped, turning back to the fire.

She moved, blocking his view of the fire. “You saw the paths at this crossroads.” It was more a statement than a question and Narcissa felt him tense under her hand.

“No…” He finally released, “…only one. I saw what would happen if he merged with the Dark Lord. I saw Harry with those eyes killing his father and laughing as he drew his last breath.” She was surprised at the tears lacing Draco’s eyes. “Mother, I promise we’ll find that stone. I will not let Harry turn into a monster like him.”

“You are a brave child with a lot on your shoulders and you care for people despite Lucius attempts to make you like a walking statue. You have a true friend now – despite what you see in his life. Even Hermione will walk beside you.”

“But Mother, she a mud–”

“Do not say that word.” She said quickly, sternly. Draco blushed a bit. “One of my best friends was from Gryffindor, a muggleborn but smart as tack. She could rival Hermione.”

“You are talking about Harry’s mother.” Draco stated.

“Yes, I am and even Hermione has grown fond of you. Believe it or not, I see in fondness for her in you, too.”

Draco stared into his mother’s eyes, before muttering. “It’s nice to have companions that care for you rather than what power you have, the money, or whatever family reputation.”

“Lucius has no hold on you.” Tears spilled down her face. “I love you.” Draco looked at her wide-eyed, for she had never told him but in a letter – Lucius had forbid it. “You and your friends will find that stone. Severus will help you with that curse and you will be safe as long as I am living.”

“What about Father?”

“Draco, that man is no father. The man you saw in the Hospital Wing, he is a father… Think about it, child.”

Then she went to the fireplace, throwing in floo power and before she disappeared, she blew him an imaginary kiss.

***

Narcissa reappeared in a dirty, cobwebbed house. She could even hear the household pests from all around her, buzzing near the windows, scuttling along the walls. The air was stifling despite the chill of the outside and she wrapped her arms around her in nervousness. She stood still for a long moment and then she heard soft footfalls in the room. She quickly took out her wand, muttered “Lumos.”

Then, a crackling voice came from the shadow, a voice flowing with happiness. “Is that Mistress?”

Narcissa sighed and lowered her lighted wand down to show the minuscule creature at her feet. “Kreacher, you scared me.”

“Kreacher is sorry, Mistress,” he said oily and almost sweet. “Kreacher did not wish to frighten, Mistress Narcissa.”

“It is fine, Kreacher,” Narcissa said absently, venturing toward the open doorway. She stopped when heard scuffling behind her. “Kreacher, I have precious little time. I must find what I came here for.”

The house-elf nodded and trudged down into the basement. Narcissa watched until he was out of sight and then took on the creaking staircase. Reaching the second floor, she looked at two doors. One was normal while the other to had knives stuck in the front of the door, along with several burnt spots. She shook her head at he door opposite.

“You knew better than to play with knives, Regulus.”

She brushed the closed door. Sighing, she went to the abused door, walking into the ransacked room. Papers were scattered around the floor. Glass crunched under her feet and the mattress was bare, cut with feathers spilling out. Pictures hung crookedly on the wall, one catching her eye.

It was a picture of the day Lily and Potter married. Potter and Black were grinning like maniacs – she was quite convinced that they were – and waving. Lily was crying in her wedding gown and wiping at her eyes as far away from Potter as she could be. It was a bit useless as he held her wrist in a tight grip.

Narcissa snarled at the picture. “That was nothing but a win for you, Sirius, as big as a win for Potter taking Lily. Perhaps if you had been true family, I would have told the world of your innocence by now.” Then her mouth spread into a wicked smile. “Revenge is sweet, isn’t it, my dear cousin?”

She threw the picture at a nearby wall, smashing the glass and the weak wooden frame. Smiling she walked over to the bed and muttering a spell a floorboard sprang up. She reached her hand and struggled until she pulled out a small shoebox. Inside the box were Chocolate Frog cards, letters and notes written in class and a small book hidden at the bottom, which she picked up with a relieved smile. She turned to the back, flipping through it before she found the entry she was looking for.

Wormtail lost the map today, no surprise as he is a bumbling a rat – the map is now lying safe in Filch’s cabinet. Moony had to keep Prongs from killing him. Truthfully, me and Wormtail took bets. I bet that Moony could beat Prongs if he wanted. In any case, we’ll be graduating in a few weeks. We’ve done enough nightly business for seven years. I suppose we’ll find something to do as the clock winds down. After all, we’ve never seen Snivellus bleed. That might be fun with Moony’s thirst for blood at the moment.

Of course, Evans looks quite delectable, I wonder if maybe–

Narcissa snapped the book shut, disgust on her face. She certainly did not want to read about Sirius Black’s sexual fantasies about her best friend.

And the Marauders had indeed made Severus bleed and had him nearly mauled by a werewolf. Lily and she had followed him out there, not trusting Potter. She had tried so hard to pull Severus away from the beast. Lily had thrown out an arm as the wolf had jumped in snarling, ready to rip at Severus’ neck. If it had not been for Lily’s silver ring she wore when the creature had clamped down on her hand – sharp teeth cutting through flesh and bone – Severus would be dead.

The ring had poisoned the werewolf. Remus Lupin spent the next few weeks in the Hospital Wing, only allowed to leave for Graduation day. He wasn’t on speaking terms with his friends that day and even years later seemed to lack a bit of trust in them.

And they had thought him the traitor in the end. It was sickening, though not exactly surprising.

She gently placed the book back in the box and slid it as far under the bed as she could. “Thank you for your help, Sirius. Keep enjoying your vacation in Azkaban because when summer of 1993 comes, it will hurt much worse than the Dementors.”

She turned then and walked out the room, down the stairs and back to the fireplace. Hearing her coming down the stairs, Kreacher hurried upward, hoping to please a Mistress. But once he reached the parlor, he only to found dying green flames.

Cry

XI 

“They are cute together. They almost remind me of our younger days.”

Severus shot back a small glass of Firewhiskey, before muttering, “Their lives will be hell like ours.”

Narcissa looked sad as she peered at her son and Harry on the sofa, facing Granger who had volunteered to keep the boys up to date with their classes. “I have a feeling that the war will begin again,” Narcissa whispered, “…but these children… their too headstrong. To have seen the Dark Lord this early in their lives, Draco seeing Harry in that state… It will have good repercussions for them.”

“Does it happen again? Does that monster take over my son years from now, months, weeks, days, minutes?”

She sighed, leaning her head on his arm. “You know I can’t tell you that.” He growled faintly. “Although I can say that your son is strong and brave – no matter what life has put him to. Of course, Draco and Hermione’s unlikely friendship with him… it’s helped him break the cage he put himself in.”

Severus made to pour himself another glass of Firewhiskey but Narcissa’s dainty hand grabbed the bottle. Severus looked into her gray eyes and sighed as she made the alcohol disappear. He gave her a weak glare before looking back at his son, who shook his head at the others’ ridiculousness.

Sighing, Severus asked quietly, “So, why is he not in Gryffindor? Why was Slytherin bound to be his house?”

“Maybe it’s because of his connection to the Dark Lord? Perhaps the way he became your son?” Then she smiled up at him, “And maybe because he has more in him of yourself that you’d like to think, Severus.”

Severus opened his mouth to speak but was cut off by a frustrated squeal.

“Ab-e-o-mor-a!” Hermione screamed at Draco.

“I’m doing the spell correctly, Granger! It’s not my fault that my pincushion has spikes!”

Then, suddenly, Harry began to laugh at his friends. Draco and Hermione stared at him in disbelief. Then Hermione began to giggle without control. Draco stared at them both in shock, “You both are so not normal…”

But both Harry and Hermione noticed the smile on his face.

***

It was nearly curfew when Hermione found herself walking back up to her dorm. The walk was the worst, wondering what they would say now. Find something to throw in her face. Force her to write essays for other first years. Even her roommates had threatened to shave her head in her sleep.

She was always frightened by the time she reached the portrait, knees knocking together. She was positive she didn’t have the courage Mrs. Malfoy had said. She didn’t have the courage to even cast a simple jinx on Ron Weasley when he snidely asked if Harry had been arrested yet. The other Gryffindors would laugh at this – except Neville Longbottom who sent small smile at Hermione. He was accepted for now and he would not give up his position for anything.

She turned her head away from him. His silence made him no different from the others.

Trudging upstairs, she entered her dorm room and almost gagged with the perfume coming from the room. It was so thick that you could see it in the air. Covering her mouth she walked over to her side of the room. She sighed when she saw her carefully organized school papers and books lying everywhere on the floor. One tear escaped and she kept her back turned to Lavender and Parvati who whispered and giggled from the window seat.

As she began to pick up, her essays and praying they were all there. She heard something. Looking around her, she noticed that her roommates didn’t hear it. Then her schoolbag began to wiggle. She watched with wide eyes as a pink nose peeked from the inside. Grabbing her wand, she trained it on her bag, jinx on her tongue, and gently lifted the flap.

She only found a furry black face and one white paw peeking out over the side of her bag. “Aella?” Hermione whispered, surprised, picking up the half-grown kitten from her bag. “What you doing here?” she asked quietly to the animal. “You should be home,” she rubbed her behind the ears and she purred loudly. She smiled. “You should be biting on Draco’s toes, you know.”

“Draco who, Granger?”

Cold shot down her spine as she turned to face Lavender and Parvati who had been listening. Stupid, stupid, stupid! Looking at the girls, she tired to keep a cool face. “What do you mean?” she asked, taking a step back. Lavender walked a step forward and Aella hissed at her from Hermione’s arms.

“Draco Malfoy, Granger?” Parvati asked, looking lazily at her nails before giving Hermione an evil look. “What are you doing with Malfoy, Granger, especially since he’s been absent for over a month?”

“And why do you have Potter’s cat?” asked Lavender quietly.

“How do you know its Harry’s cat?” She asked backing up into a wardrobe. Lavender followed her.

“Harry?!” squealed Parvati. “First name basis for all the Slytherins, are you?”

“Just let me go to bed, please. Aella will be gone in the morning.” The girls didn’t move. “I could take her now even!” Hermione screamed, hurrying with her book bag, putting her essays in as neatly as she could. Aella kept hissing at the other girls.

Suddenly, Lavender grabbed Hermione from the collar and threw her across the room. She hit her cheek on Parvati’s nightstand, causing a small vase to fall and break. With great anger, Parvati shared a sadistic look with Lavender and they powered together, levitated Hermione, casting her out of the dorm. “Sleep outside, you freak!” Lavender giggled.

Only they were unaware of the bathroom door was open and the sound of breaking glass reached them. Lavender and Parvati stared at each other, faces growing pale before walking toward the bathroom.

The cat had a cut across its cheek and hissed at them, trying to stand but one of its legs appeared to be broke. Parvati began to hyperventilate when she saw Hermione curled up in a ball lying in glass. A big bloody cut was on her head, painting her hair red. She was so still, that the girls’ felt their hearts speed up in fright.

“Is she… dead?” whispered Parvati.

“I think she’s breathing,” Lavender whispered back.

“What should we do?”

Lavender did not answer her friend only pulled her from the bathroom and shut the door. Turning to her best friend, she said, “We know nothing, agreed?”

Parvati nodded nervously. “We can’t just leave her in there…”

“Someone will find her. None of this leads to us as long as we stay quiet.”

“But Lav–”

“At least, she’ll be out of her hair for the night.”

Nodding, Parvati went back into her dorm, casting one more glance at the bathroom, and shutting the dorm door.

***

Severus peeked in the boys’ bedroom – Draco’s cot had been replaced with a small four-poster and the room enlarged enough to fit two boys. He noticed Draco lying on his side, cane propped against his bed, his face relaxed. Turning his eyes toward his son, he saw two eyes sparkling in the dark looking at him. He heard the boy sniff and realized he was crying.

“Harry?”

The boy clambered out of his bed and walked as quietly as he could toward his him. Harry hugged Severus around the waist, burying his face in his father’s robes. Severus placed a hand on the boy’s head leading him toward the sofa. He knelt on the floor looking up at Harry.

“Son…?”

Harry let two fresh tears fall down his face. “I feel like something bad has happened. I feel it right here.” He pointed to his heart.

Severus pulled into his arms, allowing the child to cry on his shoulder.

***

Unbeknownst to them, Katie Bell’s scream woke up the entire Gryffindor House when she got up in the middle of the night to go to the bathroom.

***

McGonagall and Pomfrey quickly used the floo to get into the dorms. Most students had gone back to bed but there was a small group gathered by the girls’ dorm stairs. Rushing past them she was able to hear a few whispers of the group, who didn’t even bother to lower their voices.

“…She deserved it....”

“She never got how things work around here…”

McGonagall cast a worried glance at Pomfrey before rushing faster. A group of older girls were crowded in the doorway to the first floor toilet – the only working bathroom since Peeves had ransacked the other one early in the year. Seeing their Head of House, the girls cleared room for her. When McGonagall entered the room, she gasped, hands clamped over her mouth.

Bridget Benhart and Alicia Spinnet were kneeling – by Hermione Granger’s still form, thick towels under their knees to prevent injury and putting pressure on Hermione’s head wound. And McGonagall was surprised to see a third girl in the room, Angelina Johnson, who was cradling a small cat in her arms as well.

Pomfrey hurried to Granger’s side, instructing the girls to continue putting pressure on the wound and began to cast healing spells on her.

“What happened here?!” McGonagall demanded, everyone jumping and the girls all looked over at Katie Bell.

Katie was in a blanket and being held by a seventh year student, Marcie Vanhover. Katie whimpered at being asked to talk and Marcie took pity on her and said, “Katie found her about five minutes ago when she was on her way to…” the girl blushed “…well, you can guess.”

Madam Pomfrey looked up at McGonagall. “We need to put her in the Infirmary. She will need healing potions and needs them fast.”

“I will alert Severus,” McGonagall sighed, rushing down the stairs and directly to the fireplace. One blink and she was gone.

***

Severus sat on his sofa with his son cradled in his arms, listening to Harry’s breathing as he slept. Looking down at the boy’s face, he finally studied his features. He had shiny black hair in ringlets just like his mother, but Lily had to straighten her hair with a spell to please Potter. Harry’s skin was pale like his own as well as his long thin fingers and Severus was relieved that the child had not inherited his nose. He was happy that most of this child was Lily, especially and undeniably his eyes. Severus felt he would rather his son look like his mother than have even a small part of himself.

After all, Lily had given her son the ultimate protection seconds away from her death.

Severus had given him a home after ten years of family prison, neglected, abused, starved…

Severus snapped his eyes shut, yearning for a memory of Lily, but each image was fuzzy as he had placed them in a pensive. Brushing his son’s hair from his eyes, he thought that, perhaps, it was the time to put them back. Maybe even let Harry see a few, he had stored away of Lily, himself and Harry – because he had loved that baby

But now that he looked back at it, he had never really stopped loving the child over eleven years, the child that called him ‘dada’, little boy who liked to play with his hair. Most of all he loved the simultaneous giggles coming from mother and son. He never understood how an infant could be that happy.

When he stored them away, leaving only a few for his own sake, the one of the potion for hope, he had sat at the sorting fully prepared to hate Lily’s son. The boy was a Potter and a would-be Gryffindor – two reasons to hate him if he didn’t think of Lily.

But the hat had spouted ‘Slytherin’ and all of Severus carefully made plans disappeared when the child looked up at him with Lily’s eyes. The boy had become his responsibility whether he liked it or not.

Surprising to Severus, the boy was much more like his mother than he would have thought – though his face had shouted his lineage to James Potter. With effort, Severus began to see Lily in him and hope much more than he should. However, this time his wish came true. Harry was his son.

“Severus!” He heard the scream sooner than he saw the fireplace erupt in green flames. McGonagall stepped out in her dressing gown and slippers on her feet. Her hair was down and it was going in every direction. She stepped out, panic on her face.

“Minerva, what is the meaning of this?” Severus whispered but it was too late for Harry’s eyes opened blearily.

Once he saw McGonagall, he sat straight up in his father’s lap. “Something’s happened, hasn’t it?” he asked quietly.

Severus cursed, mumbling. He placed Harry down on the couch and his son looked up at him with wide eyes. “But–”

“Go keep an eye on, Draco.”

Harry stared at him and McGonagall and then looked over his shoulder toward his and Draco’s room. With trudging feet he went in the bedroom, and shut the door. Then the two professors saw light coming from under the door and muffled voices.

Severus led McGonagall to the kitchen as a safety precaution. He reached into the cabinet and looked at his colleague. “Tea, Minerva?”

“No, Severus, we don’t have time,” she said urgently.

He grew tense. “What’s happened?”

“A girl was found in the Gryffindor girls’ toilet this morning. Her head had been bashed into the mirror and apparently she has been left there for hours. She’s bled heavily, including the various cuts given by the glass.” She looked up at him with tears in her eyes. “She needs potions, Severus. We fear the worst.”

“Come with me.”

McGonagall followed him into his stores. He set to work putting potions in a case, mumbling to himself. He reached for one potion then stopped, “Her head, brain injury, cracked skull…?”

“Poppy only believes she has a concussion. Right now we are focusing on stopping the bleeding.”

He nodded and grabbed a vial to his left. Quickly, he headed toward the fireplace only to encounter two boys in their pajamas. “What’s going on?” Draco asked in a commanding tone, a bit of dried blood under his nose

“Something I need to take care of,” He said in a voice that booked no argument.

Then McGonagall whispered in Severus ear. “Whatever happens, they can’t come.”

“I know that!” he snapped back at her.

McGonagall only shook her head and leaned in again, whispering. “The girl is Hermione Granger.”

***

“What are we doing?”

The voice came from nothingness or seemingly nothingness, but sometimes, most times, things in the Wizarding world are not quite what they seem.

“Do I have to tell you everything?”

Interestingly enough, the voices came from two first year boys from under the protection of their invisibility cloak. The boys began moving out of the dungeons, silent now, and no feet to be shown. They made their way up the stairs, moving quickly.

“Are we going to the Hospital Wing?” the softer voice asked after a long silence.

“No, Potter.” They had reached the second level. “We are going to the third floor.”

“But, Draco, that’s forbidden!”

“Didn’t stop you from going into the Forbidden forest, did it?”

“And you know how well that turned out!” Harry said forcefully under his breath.

“…Are you giving me cheek, Potter?” Draco laughed a bit and Harry stayed quiet, Draco not seeing Harry’s smile.

They were quiet as they reached the third floor – curious that they had made it without a run-in with Filch. Entering the corridor, torches lit up as they walked. Looking backward and forwards, no sound, no presence to be found, they slid off the invisibility cloak. At the end of the long hallway was a door, locked heavily.

Looking at each other, excitement hit their eyes until a soft, crackled ‘meow’ came from below them. Mrs. Norris looked up at them with scrutinizing eyes and made her way out of the corridor to, presumably, tell her master.

Putting his wand to the door, Draco whispered, “Alohomora.”

Both of them watched in shock as the simple spell worked without any resistance, seeming as if the castle was helping them. Entering the room, Draco leaned heavily on his cane and Harry held on to his invisibility cloak tightly.

“Suppose we’ll have to stay here until Filch leaves,” Draco said calmly, looking at the door.

Then a low growl caught their attention and both boys turned stiffly.

“A three-headed dog!” Draco screamed in disbelief, backing up.

Harry looked down at the beast’s feet and whispered in excitement, “A trapdoor...”

Draco looked down and saw it just before the middle head made a snap at Harry. Draco grabbed him and dragged him out of the room. Both ran down the corridor as best they could. Until Draco’s weak legs finally gave out and he fell to the floor. Harry screamed his name and ran to him. Then they both saw the pair of scuffed shoes and slowly looked up into a grizzled, greasy face.

“Well, well, the two little mice have come out of their fortress,” Filch said lowly, happiness in his beady eyes. Then he smiled at them with crooked yellow teeth.

Draco sneered at him.

Soon, Draco and Harry were making their way to the Infirmary, Harry helping Draco walk as he sprained his ankle and was bruised from hitting the floor. Draco glared at Filch’s back and Harry gazed sadly at his Invisibility cloak in the caretaker’s gnarled fingers.

Opening the door confidently, Filch strolled to the one occupied bed surrounded by many people. “Professors, I’ve found students out of bed.”

McGonagall turned and eyed Filch but when her eyes lightened on Harry and Draco, she seemed to erupt. “Get them out of here!” Minerva screamed at Filch’s surprised face, who cowered and started mumbling that they needed to be punished.

Seeing that they were being slightly ignored and presently being the center of attention ironically, Draco and Harry made their way around the curtain and stared in horror.

“No!” Harry screamed, staring at Hermione’s pale, limp form, covered in blood.

“Bloody hell…” Draco whispered.

Harry began breathing hard, face turning red. The windows cracked. Curtains ripped, dancing in an invisible wind and all the beds shook violently – except for Hermione’s. Then the strange white light began to surround him again as it did in the forest, his eyes glowing like emerald fire.

“Mr. Malfoy, hold him down!” screeched Pomfrey. Draco just stared at her and cast an insulting look.

“Mr. Malfoy, this is not the time to be stubborn! Calm him down now–” A loud shattering sound came from the windows. “Or we will all be in Miss Granger’s shape.”

With an exhausted and pain-filled face, Draco hobbled over to Harry and grabbed him around the shoulders. Holding him tightly, Draco began whispering in the other boy’s ear.

“No! No! I won’t let her die!” The wind rushed faster around them, swirling

Draco glared in frustration as if he expected the first calming mechanism to be a miracle. So he went for harsh and blunt. “If you don’t stop now, Potter, you’ll kill us all!”

Something struck Harry in that the storm disintegrated, the light went away, and the curtain and windows repaired themselves. Harry looked up at Hermione and passed out into Draco’s arms making them both fall into the footboard on the bed behind them. Draco hissed as his ankle twisted more. The rest of the professors – except Madam Pomfrey and mostly Filch who did – stared in shock at Harry’s limp form.

Suddenly, the Hospital doors burst open and Severus stormed through with Dumbledore and, surprisingly, Narcissa Malfoy at their heels. “Who in their right mind would lock out a Potions Master from a hospital?!” he screamed.

“It was locked?” McGonagall asked faintly. “He must of…” and she couldn’t finish her sentence.

Severus stared at her in shock before a whimper was heard behind him. He stared in surprise as Draco looked up at him with pleading eyes, Harry lying still on top of him. Looking up into his godfather’s eyes, he muttered, “Get him off me…” His face twitched as pain shot up his spine. “…please…”

“Fate dislikes me,” Severus grumbled as he rubbed a healing potion on Draco’s ankle while the boy was sleeping.

“Why do you say that?” Narcissa asked curiously, changing the dressing on Hermione’s head while Pomfrey got some rest.

“Otherwise I would not be stuck with three difficult children,” he said it harshly but she noticed the softness in his eyes as he gazed on Harry.

“Severus, all children are difficult.” She replied amused at him and asked, “Don’t you remember us as children, especially when Slughorn didn’t praise you for getting your potion done first, fast and perfect?”

“I’d blow up mine just to spite that old codger.”

“No,” Narcissa rebutted gently, smiling. “You did it to impress Lily sitting beside you, who had known that your potion was perfect. How else could she so quickly put up a shielding charm?”

Severus smiled but his smile faded as his eyes landed on Hermione, “That girl was injured from her association with my son. Has this entire school turned to into Ministry Inquisitors?”

“So much prejudice, so much hate, far worse than when we attended here,” Narcissa whispered, and began cleaning rubbing antibiotic potion into the girl’s cuts and scrapes.

“And all of this over a bloody cat!” He whispered harshly, and Aella sensing Severus’ distress with her, hissed at him and buried her scratched face into Hermione’s bedcovers, with her splinted leg up in the air.

Silence permeated the room before Severus walked over to Harry’s bed, caressing his hair and face, “Why does he do this, this outburst of magic? No child should have this much power.”

“Even I cannot see the answer to that.” Narcissa responded sadly. “It could be the paternity potion. The Dark Lord could have related some of his powers,” Severus shivered at this, “Or it could be Lily protecting her son the only way she knows how…”

Suddenly, a groan came from Hermione. Severus turned to look at her while Narcissa talked quietly to the girl. “Hermione, love, are you in there?”

It took a few moments but Hermione’s eyes fluttered open. “It’s blurry,” she mumbled squinting

“It’s the potions for your head injury. It’s best if you keep them closed for another few hours.”

Hermione complied and turned her face in the direction of Narcissa’s voice. “Where am I?”

“You’re in the Hospital Wing, dear.” Narcissa brushed her cheek. “Do you not remember what happened?”

“We were arguing. They found out about Harry and Draco because I was too stupid.” Severus raised a brow at Narcissa who raised a hand to him with a stern look. “Then, I was thrown into a table. It hurt and… I remember flying in the air…Something shattered. I felt a pain in my head…” The girl turned silent.

Severus and Narcissa waited with bated breath but the girl had no more to say. Narcissa touched Hermione’s face, whispering, “Do you remember anything else?”

“Just Aella’s mewing–” A stricken look appeared on Hermione’s face. “Is she… okay?”

Recognizing her name, Aella meowed at her. Hermione smiled and her face lit up as Severus placed the cat in her arms, watching with a small smile as Hermione scratched Aella behind the ears, the feline purring in happiness.

“Aella, Harry couldn’t make it without you,” the girl whispered.

Narcissa looked sadly at the child and placed three fingers on her freckled and scratched cheek. “Harry couldn’t make it without you either, Hermione, or my son.”

The child let out a soft snort. “Draco thinks I’m annoying, bossy, and ignorant. He makes fun of my hair. He–”

“–has true friends now. He told me what you told him the day after you found him in that classroom. You told him he was Slytherin’s prince and his so-called friends were servants.” Narcissa sat on the bed gently and took the girl’s hand. “Hermione, you opened his eyes. He realized he was becoming his father. For Draco, that’s the worst fate imaginable.”

“The friends he thought he had did not come to his aid as he would have thought,” Severus said lowly. “In fact, Mr. Zabini and Mr. Nott were amused at Draco’s pain. You cried for him. You and Harry helped him, protected him while the others watched.”

“And you can’t say that you don’t worry over Draco’s health,” Narcissa butted in. “If it hadn’t been for the medicine you took from Severus’ cabinet, Draco could have died in the Forbidden Forest.”

He caught eyes with Narcissa and turned back to the two boys sleeping on beds opposite of Hermione’s. Looking at his son’s face he wondered if this would never end.

***

“Cornelius, you can’t say this nothing.”

“I agree, Albus that it is horrifying, but you must remember that the girl was in goods with Potter–” The Minister flustered. “Or what he calls himself these days.”

“So you will not prosecute the perpetrators?”

“They are minors.”

“And you have prosecuted minors before!” McGonagall screamed, standing quickly from her chair. “Hagrid–”

“With good reason!”

“Judicious Flint!”

“Not enough evidence!”

“Deana Greengrass!”

“Who was found innocent!” He rubbed the bridge of his nose before saying, “Professor we can go all day with this. The fact remains is that Miss Granger will be released from the Hospital Wing in a week’s time. After that she will be placed back into Gryffindor House as soon as possible.”

“So they could kill her next! These so-called minors were fully aware of what they were doing to that girl!”

“Minerva,” called Dumbledore’s calm voice in order to placate them. McGonagall grew still and sunk back into her chair.

The Minister huffed and faced the Headmaster where he stood. “It has reached the papers and the Ministry has sent a letter to her parents.” He stopped as resolve returned on his face. “The girl’s accident is the result of an unstable boy who is under investigation–”

McGonagall made to open her mouth in rage but Dumbledore put up a hand to her. She glared at them and crossed her arms, glaring deadly at Fudge.

“Harry was no where near the accident. It occurred in the Gryffindor girl’s bathroom.”

“I am aware of where it occurred, Dumbledore! But, perhaps, this will be a wake up call for the girl – seeing what comes with being a supporter of Harry Potter! Especially a muggleborn!”

McGonagall stood up, glaring heatedly at Fudge. She opened her mouth but when no words came. She looked at Dumbledore and said, “Severus will need to be warned of this.”

Then she stormed out of the Headmaster’s office, Fudge not realizing she had changed his shoes into pig-like slippers.

Minerva McGonagall rehearsed the thought of transfiguring Cornelius Fudge into a pig with a bowler hat – something not to be done directly in the presence of Fudge but an interesting idea to keep at hand.

***

“It was my idea, Severus,” Draco whispered sitting side by side with Harry, who looked down at his feet, struggling not to cry.

“I don’t care whose bloody idea it was. What were you doing on the third floor?!” Severus screamed causing both boys to startle. Two tears fell from Harry’s eyes.

“Well?” Severus asked sternly, standing up.

Draco glanced at Harry and started lowly. “I-We-or maybe just me- thought that–”

“We were looking for the Mirror of Erised,” Harry blurted staring up and straight into his father’s eyes.

Severus seemed to relax more as Draco tried not to look suspicious and give them away. Potter’s really getting a backbone now… But what is the mirror of… whatever he said. He heard Granger’s voice in his head and scowled, Mercy, Draco, do you read?

He sent a short glare at a surprised, half-asleep Hermione when Severus finally spoke, “How do you know what that is?”

Harry looked a little nervous but seemed to be holding his own in Draco’s eyes. “I found it… last year before Christmas Break in a room in the dungeons. Then after I got the invisibility cloak, I went there every night.” Harry bit his lip before mumbling. “I just wanted to see Mum, sir, but Professor Dumbledore found me… He-he told me not to dwell on dreams…. The next night it was gone.” His voice was barely holding as he finished.

Severus gritted his teeth, trying to control his temper, looking at the shiny silver material sitting beside the boys. “And just how did you get a hold of that?”

“It was a Christmas present. There was only a card, short…it wasn’t signed.”

“What did it say, Harry?” Severus asked softly as he noticed more tears falling down Harry’s face.

Harry sniffed and then muttered, “Use it well.”

Severus straightened up, and looked at Narcissa before whispering, “I will kill that meddling old coot if it is the last thing I do.”

Looking back at the boys, he saw how nervous they were at waiting for what their punishments were going to be. However, they sentence was delayed by McGonagall walking into the Hospital Wing. Her face was angered, a small vein popping out on her forehead. She cast a pitying look at each of the children.

“Severus, I came from Albus’ office in a meeting with Fudge,” Severus’ eyes narrowed, afraid of what she would say next. “Then, I flooed to the Daily Prophet office and asked for an early printing of tomorrow’s paper.”

With great sadness and sympathy in her eyes, she handed it to him. Bright bold and swaying was the number one headline. HOGWART’S SECOND VICTIM!!!

Feeling anger bubble up in him, he read the first few lines of the article. Harry Potter, Heir of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named – “So they are calling him an heir now,” Severus said bitterly. – has now injured his second student at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Hermione Granger, 12, muggleborn, was attacked with a Bone-crushing curse – “She has no broken bones, not even her skull.” – issued by Potter. No doubt the Heir is following his predecessor’s hatred for muggleborns – “Fester was a pureblood, you inane baboons!” – Head Auror Darby admitted to this reporter that a case is underway to convict Potter. However, this case has not gone through the Wizengamot, but if convicted, Potter will surely face the Dementor’s Kiss...”

Severus screamed, throwing the paper across the room. He grabbed his hair and screamed at the top of his lungs. Everyone in the room stood startled at this outburst. He finally stopped, sucking in air. Rushing over, he grabbed Harry off the bed and into his arms, kneeling on the floor with him.

“Dad…” whispered Harry, concerned. Severus stared quiet and just held her son, tightly. Harry didn’t say anymore only gripped his father back as tightly as he could.

Narcissa gently picked up the paper, looking at it with wide eyes. “The world’s gone mad,” she whispered.

***

Lying in their beds later that night, the boys watched the light creeping under the gap in their door. Taking a deep breath, Harry looked across the room at Draco, whispering, “Do you know what is in that paper?”

Draco looked at Harry in pity – not that the other boy saw it – and asked, “Do you really want to know?”

Harry was silent for a long time before he answered back, “My mother was Gryffindor.”

Draco smiled into the dark but his smile faded as he thought on what he should tell the other boy. He sighed before answering, “They are blaming you for Granger’s accident.”

“What…?” Draco could hear the fear in his voice.

“They are saying you hurt Granger. They say it was you who attacked her – nonetheless how wrong they are, insecure babies that they are - and they say you will be convicted.” Draco conveniently left out the part of the Dementors. Potter did not need to know about them now. Two years till knowing was much too soon in Draco’s eyes either.

“What can we do?” Harry asked and Draco knew he was crying. “I finally have a family, Draco…I don’t lose it.”

“You won’t, Draco said forcefully, “Not if everything goes to my plan.”

“What?”

“Next Saturday, we go down the trapdoor.”

“Why? What about the dog?”

“We’ll drop some hints to Hagrid when he comes to visit Granger and when Granger is better, we find the Stone.” Somehow he could sense Harry’s anxiety about it. “Just trust me, Potter. Next Saturday, we find it.”

***

Severus sat in his chair, staring into the fire. Narcissa sighed and walked over to kneel by his chair. The Potions Master’s face was like stone, not even acknowledging her presence. She placed a hand on his bare arm, cold as ice and looked up at him with tears in her eyes.

“Severus…”

But the man was unresponsive and her tears spilled over.

“Severus, talk to me… please?”

Silence once more and sobbing she laid her head on his icy arm. After awhile the fingers began to play absently with her hair. Looking up, she caught his gaze. “I don’t want to lose him,” he stated heavily, as if trying to keep tears at bay. “He’s all I have of Lily. He’s all I have of anything.”

She rose up and placed a hand on his stubbly cheek. “Severus, time has not been written yet.”

“Have you seen something?”

“Small bits, not enough to know really…” He clenched his eyes shut as if in great pain. Narcissa knew what pain – the pain of losing a child, or even thinking it possible.

“Is there anything you can tell me, Cissy?”

She waited until he looked her in the eye. “Never give up hope. Don’t give in.” Two tears spilled over her cheeks. “And there is nothing wrong with crying behind closed doors.”

Suddenly a rough sob broke through him and Narcissa pulled him gently into the floor. She held his head on her shoulder and rocked him – her heart breaking with him, tears of her own flowing.

Running her fingers through his hair, she whispered quietly – so quietly she wondered if he heard it. “Never let anyone tell you that you are a bad father, Severus. A bad father would not be in this great of pain if their child was in peril.”

Then, Narcissa looked up at the ceiling, imaging she could see the night sky through the thick stone. Lily, wherever you may be, in heaven or protecting your son, or kicking Potter’s arse through Hades even, could you watch over the rest of us. Especially Harry, of course Harry, and Draco and Hermione too… Draco knows they have to find the stone, he just doesn’t know why.

I’ve probably told him enough for me to be sentenced by now. Everyone knows I don’t play by the rules.

Draco doesn’t know that the Dark Lord disembodied spirit goes every night into the passages that seal the stone, not able to get the stone from the mirror before daybreak. Harry has to find it and fight of the Dark Lord if his life can ever be free from persecution or at least, a little bit of freedom and happiness.

Lily, I love your son and Severus is my brother. I’m doing the best I can but I know that it’s only a little compared to what you could do.

Narcissa laid her head on top of Severus’ own. Maybe, hopefully, my little will be enough.

“You’re limping, Granger.”

“So are you, nitwit.”

Harry turned around to look at them from over his shoulder, all under the invisibility cloak. Draco looked away and Hermione watched her feet. Harry smiled at her. “Hermione, he is only worrying for your health.”

“I most certainly am not!”

Harry just rolled his eyes at them, stopping at the door leading to the third floor. All of them took a deep breath. Draco cast a glance at Hermione, “Are you positive that we have to sing a three-headed dog a lullaby?”

“Yes, for the billionth time, that is what Hagrid said.”

“Great oaf is what–”

“He is not–”

“Quiet…” Harry whispered, muttering a spell under his tongue and then, the door clicked open. Hermione and Draco looked at Harry. Draco opened his mouth to say something when Hermione turned to go with Harry. The blonde haired boy just rolled is eyes and grabbed Harry gently from behind.

“Potter, how did you…?”

Hermione grinned brightly, “Mercy, Draco, don’t you read?”

Scowling, he hobbled forward, pushing the door open. Harry and Hermione quickly followed suit only to stop right behind him.

The three-headed dog – “Its name is Fluffy? Are you off your rocker, Granger?!” – was in a deep sleep. Each head snored loudly. The monster’s deep even breathing swept their hair from their eyes. Hermione looked at Draco.

“Did you do this?”

Draco opened his mouth to respond when Harry spotted the enchanted harp not a few feet away. He raised his hand pointing at it, unable to speak. Something about that melody swirled in his mind. Something he seemed to remember. Something he wished he had back.

Then with a soft ping the music stopped. Harry stared hard at the harp, forgetting where he was, and why he was there, wishing for the sound to come back. Then suddenly, Harry was thrown and he braced himself as best he could for the ground.

But the ground did not come. Opening his eyes, he saw himself spiraling downward in the black of a haunting ravine. He was falling, falling. It was like flying. Seeing something below him, he closed his eyes again – this time afraid to die.

Instead – with great relief and surprise – he landed on a spongy pipe like material, bouncing and rolling away from his landing point. Sitting up carefully and rotating his shoulder which had took the brunt of the fall, he felt the back of his neck prickle. He looked up to see Draco staring at him and soon another plop was heard as Hermione descended.

“Potter, what the bloody hell were you doing?!” Draco screamed, thrashing about in the green tubes.

Something moved. Harry stared hard at his friend’s right side. He blinked – nothing.

“You were about to become a chew toy!” No sooner were the words out of Draco’s mouth then, the pipes began to stretch and curl around his ankles. He stared in fright only looking up as Hermione whispered.

“Devil’s snare…”

“What?” Harry asked, watching as tendrils wrapped about his waist, squeezing until he struggled to breathe. He began to panic and wished he could see his mother again, like in the forest and in front of that mirror. However, the more he thrashed, the tighter the vines got.

“Relax Harry!”

But a vine covered the boy’s mouth, accented immediately by muffled screaming. Harry looked at his friends with wide eyes, no longer hidden by scratched glass.

“He’s not relaxing, Granger!” Draco screamed before he slipped through the vines. Harry let out a muffled shout at this but then the boy’s voice seemed to come from below him. “Obviously, Herbology is not Potter’s strong suit!”

Suddenly Hermione slipped through the trap just as Draco did and Harry heard Draco’s voice again. “Granger, are you insane? You left him up there! He could–!”

Draco’s voice stopped as a bright light spread over the vines. Harry could feel the warmth of the light and could breathe easily again as the vines retreated from him. Then he slipped through. Falling on his bum, he looked up at his friends with sad eyes.

“Way to go, Potter,” Draco drawled.

“Draco!” Hermione screeched at him and then, helped Harry stand.

The boy’s face was flushed with embarrassment as he followed Draco down the long, shady hallway. Hermione looked back at him from her middle spot and smiled softly at him. Harry smiled back but he didn’t mean it.

His head was swirling with voices, measuring his cowardliness.

Crybaby! Crybaby! Crybaby! – The chants created by his cousin, Dudley, and his friends.

Stop blubbering, boy! It’s only a scratch! – The words of his uncle when he accidentally cut his hand while making dinner. The cut had been big enough for stitches and he finished dinner with his injured hand wrapped up in his too-large shirt. He was later beaten for asking Aunt Petunia to get the bread out of the oven for him.

You keep away from her! Don’t touch her again! – The words of Ron Weasley and Seamus Finnegan when he talked to Hermione in the library. The boys had pummeled him, never mind the fact that neither of them could bear to be in the same room with Hermione.

You’re mother was a Gryffindor. – At last, Draco’s words and finally Harry felt a determination come over him. He would make his mother proud of him, wherever she was.

But would making his mother proud, make his father stop loving him?

***

“The children are gone…”

He felt rage cover his concern, bury it, hide it – but never destroy it. His son was in danger. His son could die.

He growled out the inane password to the frozen beast and hurried up the winding staircase.

His son was nothing but a pawn.

With an uncontrollable burst of magic, the wooden door slammed open, lock breaking. He stepped down into the circular room. He ignored Minerva’s wide shocked eyes. He ignored the gentle probing coming from the molting bird’s beady eyes.

He stared into light blue eyes, hidden by half-moon spectacles.

Dumbledore looked at him calmly and then sat down behind his enormous desk. “I’ve been expecting you, Severus.”

The man had once been his mentor and yet now, he had become the puppet master, stringing along his son like a marionette. He felt his anger burn and bubble up red hot. He strode forward swiftly and swiped his hand across the desk. He ignored Minerva’s gasp and the glass shattering, the Headmaster’s candy bouncing upon the stone floor. Severus slapped both hands on the wood to keep from choking him.

“Where the hell is he?!”

Dumbledore stared at him. He blinked, once, twice.

Severus could feel his ire growing past his control.

“Who, Severus…?” came McGonagall’s quiet voice instead.

“My son is gone and Draco as well - along with that damned invisibility cloak!

Dumbledore blinked again. Severus felt his eye twitch.

He cast a glance at Minerva, watching as her face paled. “Hermione is missing from the Infirmary. Poppy was not going to release her until Monday morning.” She turned swiftly to Dumbledore and stared at him, waiting for an answer.

Anything to keep from imagining the worst.

Dumbledore blinked once more before shaking his head a little. “The children are fine,” he said serenely, looking up into Severus’ eyes.

“For how long?!”

Minerva looked at her younger colleague and muttered, “Perhaps they are just studying together or out on the grounds–”

“They went to the third floor and down that trapdoor! It was open!” Only then did McGonagall noticed his ripped robe and bloodied arm. Severus was livid as he shook the Headmaster. She could see the pain behind his maddened eyes. “How did they find out about the Stone, Albus?! How much are you trying to turn my son into your perfect soldier?!”

“Contrary to your beliefs – and, no doubt, Narcissa’s as well – I am not trying to force Harry into anything other than what he is.”

“Then, why–?!”

Severus stopped cold as if choking. He looked up at the ceiling and watched as dust began to fall in a cloud upon the dark face of the desk. The floor suddenly began to tremble, pieces of stone from the walls fell. A sconce fell to the ground, still burning. Fawkes let out a shrill shriek.

Dumbledore’s gaze was suddenly incredibly ancient as he looked into Severus’ horrified eyes and whispered, “It’s begun.”

***

Limping, bruised and bloody, the trio pushed open the last door, a thick wooden one with rusted bolts. It gave way easily – “well that is a very efficient locking device!” “Thank you, Mr. Obvious!” – and stepped into the room.

It was a small antechamber. Pillars stretched to the back and sides. They were lit with a faint orange glow coming from the fire basins toward the front of the room. However, the fire was low and did not reach to the farthest corners of the stone room. Walking in slowly, they took their time to look around and relax just a bit.

The room was empty.

“What is that?” Hermione asked, looking at Draco out of the corner of her eyes. He merely shrugged nonchalantly and Hermione’s brown eyes narrowed suspiciously.

“It’s a mirror,” he replied calmly, allowing Hermione to tow him slightly. He avoided her gaze even as she held tightly on his arm so he could keep his balance.

“It’s the Mirror of Erised,” Harry whispered, the room so silent that his friends had no trouble hearing him.

Harry walked down the stairs slowly, stopping in front of the glass. He gazed longingly at what he say, placing one hand gently against it. Hermione and Draco watched him as he bowed his head, sweaty curls shielding his eyes from them.

“What are we supposed to do with it?” Draco asked, normally though inside he was screaming that nothing felt right. The hairs on the back of his neck seemed to stand. He felt eyes on his back. Yet he looked and saw just the empty room behind them.

“Well, it has to be here for a reason,” Hermione said smartly, feeling safe enough to let her bossiness shine through.

“We find the Stone…” said Harry, a wobbling in his small voice. “We find the Stone with it.”

“Yes, children… It’s for you to find the Stone… and give it to me…”

The voice was sickeningly familiar. Harry froze cold. Hermione’s breathing sped up. Draco watched as they both struggled to stay calm. This was not the Forbidden Forest. This was Hogwarts castle. They were safe.

Were they not?

Then, they heard another voice, softer unlike the other which seemed to reverberate inside their heads. “You will give it to me.”

A man shimmered into view. Long blue robes. Tall, skinny and pale. A shining sweaty face. Beady little muddy brown eyes.

And a turban on his head.

“Prof-Professor Quirrel!” Hermione exclaimed in outrage and shock.

Draco supposed that it was out of her belief that her teachers were all saints. He found that he wasn’t surprised to see Quirrel – which shocked him more.

“Who is the stuttering fool now, Miss Granger?” Quirrel asked amused, in perfect elocution. He held up the shimmering fabric in his hand, tossing it carelessly aside. He looked at Harry “Potter should take better care of his belongings.”

Draco remembered Harry dropping it as he saw the mirror. He and Hermione had walked past it with false security. Feeling something dreadfully cold run swiftly by his arm, he stood with unseeing eyes as images flashed quickly through his mind.

Of Hermione screaming.

Of the mirror shattering.

Of Harry lying still and bloody, lying dead, pieces of the mirror gouged into his chest

Then as quickly as it came it was no longer pictures but flashes of colors and garbled sounds. He felt his mind being torn away. He could feel his conscious slowly began to glide away from him as if drifting off to sleep.

Hermione screamed, shrill and short, then a slapping sound has she covered her mouth with one hand. She gripped Draco’s arm tighter.

His eyes snapped open.

Quirrel stood only a few feet from Harry. A long bloody gash now marred Harry’s cheek, blood running down his neck like a small river. Harry stood, facing the man. Draco was surprised at Harry’s lack of shaking. He did not look panicked or teary-eyed, only still with uncharacteristic resolve.

Draco cast a glance at Hermione. Her feet were planted to the floor. He watched as her whole body trembled – as if she were struggling against an unseen force to move. He tired to peel off her fingers but they were like vices holding him in her grip. Even tears fell from her unblinking eyes

Mind control, Draco wondered. Quirrell never gave me that impression before but – His eyes became horrified. No way! He can’t be–

“I can’t be what, Mr. Malfoy?”

It was that voice again. Quirrel’s lips did not move. Draco felt his calm turn to shreds as a black mist rose above the man’s robed form. It took the vague image of a human only with red reptilian eyes staring at him cruelly.

“I can’t be… inside Hogwarts, perhaps? Inside this chamber…?” the voice laughed, a sound that hurt Draco’s ears. He winced uncontrollably and cast a glance at Harry. Surprisingly, he still looked calm.

The particles shifted and creped closer to Draco’s body. “Inside your own mind…?”

Draco felt his heart grow cold.

His vision was not a prospective future for when they failed. It was a prediction.

They were going to die.

It happened so fast that Draco barely had time to blink.

“POTTER!”

Quirrel had bellowed, advancing on Harry. Only the bodiless Dark Lord was faster. He swooped up to Harry’s small form, staring down with those reptilian eyes. Frozen for a moment in the gaze, Harry did not see Quirrel approaching until the man nearly tackled him to the ground.

Hermione screamed, a guttural sound as she warred against the curse that kept her immovable.

It seemed in slow motion that Harry screamed Draco’s name, launching something into the air. Reaching out, he caught it easily. As soon as it reached his hand, a warm shock ran though his body. Suddenly, Hermione could move again, her once stone like hand loosening against his bruised skin as she slipped to kneel helplessly on her knees

With wide eyes, Draco looked down and felt something akin to a miraculous hope sweep through him

A red stone.

In his hand.

But how–!

“Harry!” Hermione screamed, staring helplessly as Harry and Quirrel wrestled on the ground. Draco’s eyes snapped up to see as the boy struggled underneath the weight of their once-bumbling professor.

The two could smell burning flesh. They could see blood. They listened to the agonized screams – ones that were never Harry’s. The red eyes watched Harry carefully as the boy fought with both hands.

Empty hands.

Empty hands that created bleeding ulcers on Quirrel’s skin.

The Dark Lord turned swiftly and Draco found himself caught in that gaze again. The black mist seemed to smile grotesquely.

“So the Malfoy boy has it, Draco, is it? Your father was a good servant. I know what he did to you hoping to please me.”

The mist began to move in circles around Draco’s body and he felt the force as unseen magic blasted Hermione away, sending her sprawling across the floor. He heard a sharp crack as her arm hit the stone. He gagged.

Then he spoke to Draco like he was an infant. “Shame he’s incompetent.” Then the particles smiled sickeningly within a blackened face, leaning forward. “Give it to me, boy!”

Draco began to back up slowly. He couldn’t dare cast a glance at Harry. So he ran over and stood in front of Hermione’s pale form. “Come and get it, snake face!”

The particles moved swiftly through Draco’s chest as if he were a ghost. He fell hard to his knees. Blood poured from his nose, ears, mouth. It pooled into his eyes and tears of red fell down his cheeks. With one last ditch of strength, he tossed the stone feebly, watching as it clanked down the stairs.

His vision swirled, blackened out.

The last thing he was aware of was Hermione screaming his name.

*** 

Harry watched as Draco fell.

Harry watched, knowing that Draco could be dead.

He caught Hermione’s frightened gaze. She struggled to move, to get closer to their friend’s prone body.

The Dark Lord’s spirit moved sharply to look at her. She gasped quietly but stared into his eyes with determination, pushing herself to find the Gryffindor courage that the Sorting Hat had seen.

“You stay were you are, mudblood, or they die faster.”

Hermione whimpered, emotionally and physically drained. Fear for Draco and Harry swirled inside her head. She found she had no fear for her own life.

Is that bravery, she wondered, or cowardice… so ready to give up your own life?

Suddenly, the same warmth moved through her skin as she looked past the monster to the standing figure in front of the Mirror of Erised. Looking she saw a red glistening rock in his hand. She looked up and saw Harry’s deep green eyes, sparkling with resolve and a great strength she had never seen in him before.

“Give me the stone, boy!”

Hermione watched as the particles moved through Harry’s body the same as it had Draco’s. Harry’s eyes rolled back, showing the whites of his eyes. The ground began to shake, pieces of stone ceiling falling on her and Draco’s still body. A strange inhuman scream of pain cut through the chamber.

She could smell the nauseating smell of burning skin once more.

A few large stones fell from the ceiling, shielding Harry’s body from view. She heard a hollow sound.

“HARRY!”

*** 

Harry wondered if he was dying.

He watched feebly as the evil one fled, squealing like a dying animal. He had done that and Quirrel lay not far from him twitching and oozing. He had done that too – with his own hands.

How?

Harry wondered if he would die never knowing the answers.

And for once, he was not afraid. Not for himself at least. Death seemed like a release after all of this. Closing his eyes, he was ready for a release. He felt as if his very existence put everyone in danger, as if his father’s love was not enough to make him feel worthy of it.

He was a killer after all.

He had killed his mother.

Of course, he did not know why the Dark Lord wanted him. Why he had his scar. Why he could attack Quirrel such as he did. How he survived this long.

And where had his courage come from?

Who was he –the dying, yet triumphant boy or a beaten little whelp afraid of everything?

“You are Severus Snape’s son.”

Looking up he saw a white mist rise above him. Beautiful and very unlike the creature he had fought. The mist shifted and an angel floated into his view. Her deep auburn curls swayed across her face. Her pale skin sparkled and he looked up into her eyes.

His eyes.

“Mum…” he whispered, one shaking arm reaching out but with no strength it flopped back one on the rough, cold floor.

She floated near him until they were face to face, he looking into her eyes. Her eyes were filled with tears. Her hands shook has she held them tightly together.

“Am I dying? I want to…”

She bit her lip and silvery tears fell down her translucent face.

“You be strong, Harry,” she said quietly, shaking her head and smiling at him sadly. “Your daddy needs you…”

“I wish you were here… I want you here…” he murmured and his body took on a coughing fit. Blood spattered around his mouth and when he spoke, his tongue was coated with it.

Her hand reached out brushing his cheek. He felt something like a cool breeze caress his face. It was very unlike walking through one of the school ghosts. It was a pleasant feeling, but something in it made his eyes tear up and fall from the corners of his eyes. They rolled down his temples and into his filthy, blood matted hair.

She smiled at him through her tears. “Baby, I told you I’ll never leave you… Go to sleep, Harry…”

Harry opened his mouth to say something more but she placed a finger over her lips. He smiled at her. He felt his mind become fuzzy and he thought of his father. He smile grew.

Soon he would be home. Even if he did not deserve it. He would be home.

He felt his eyes droop as she began to sing to him softly. It was a tinkling sound. Her voice was soft, beautiful. The melody was hauntingly familiar yet comforting. He smiled gently as he felt sleep carry him away.

Lily looked on, her song coming to a fading close. Her tears began to fall faster, dripping on the stone ground, creating silver glitter that mixed with her son’s growing puddle of blood.

She slowly slipped back into her son. Harry’s sleeping mouth whispered, her voice brushing softly past his tongue, “Severus... hurry…”

*** 

Narcissa walked as fast as her legs would carry her without running. Her expensive dragon-hide heels swinging from one arm as her bare feet padded softly.

Her soul was light. Her mood was happy. Her son, her godson, her only true family was alive. The weight she had carried since her prophesying dream of the event was lifted. She felt like she was floating.

But her heart told her that this would not be the last time those children were placed in danger.

Finally, she rounded into the Infirmary and nearly ran past her only witness – a sleeping third year suffering from some horrible boils. She walked past Madam Pomfrey’s office and into the Quarantine rooms excluded away from the main part of the wing.

Stopping outside the doorway she pushed the large door open slightly and peered through.

Hermione had a book open on her lap, reading softly to the boys. Draco was propped up against pillows on Harry’s bed, were he reclined. He was doodling on in a thin leather book as Draco stared at Hermione, watching her as she read. His eyes kept going to the sling her arm was in and then to Harry as he fought to stay conscious.

Severus suddenly appeared in her view, laying an arm on Hermione’s shoulder. She looked at him and something in his face made her stop her reading, marking her finishing spot. She hopped up to take Draco’s hand. Severus helped steady him as he set his feet down but he followed gently after Hermione into an adjoining room. She slowed her pace to match him and he even gave her a small smile aimed at her turned back.

Severus sat down beside Harry’s bed, taking his son’s limp hand in his. He stroked Harry’s cheek gently and the boy’s eyes fluttered halfway open. Harry smiled at his father and clenched his hand back. The boy aimed his head at Severus and was asleep again in mere seconds.

“I just found you…” she heard Severus say lowly to his son. “I just found you and I nearly lost you… I pray it never happens again… I need you too much…”

Narcissa bit her lip and gently eased the door up to close it. Once it clasped quietly she leaned against it. Her heart pounded and she struggled to remain standing. Images flashed through her unseeing eyes. Bits and pieces of sounds took over.

“…am Lord Voldemort…”

“…heir… attack…”

“Don’t look at…”

“The oaf did it… monster…”

“…spiders flee…”

“…venom… much longer…”

“No… Harry, no!”

The trill of a bird stung her ears before her vision cleared and the sights and sounds of Hogwart’s Infirmary came back to her. She swallowed against the bile that rose in her throat and stumbled away from the door.

When will it be over?

She looked back at the closed door.

Will it ever…?

She could see no end in her Sight.