When Snape arrived at the infirmary, he found Dumbledore and the boy already sitting on one of the beds, deep in conversation. Snape didn't know how it was possible, but he loathed this boy even more than the one he had replaced. The little copy of James Potter, who chattered about Lily, blithely unaware that each word about her was like a razor. The whelp who stood uncomfortably close to Snape and stared up at him with sad eyes.

Snape flashed to that day years ago, at the entrance to the Gryffindor common room, when he'd pleaded for Lily's forgiveness. He could still see her face, set in hard lines as she reminded him of everything he'd said and done. A cold emptiness in his chest had opened as she walked away from him and their friendship.

And behind her retreating back, in the Gryffindor common room, he'd seen that face. James, not much older than the boy, had looked at him with pitying but triumphant eyes. Eyes that said, I know.

And the boy knew. He knew. It was as though he were being levitated and stripped naked by Potter and his gang all over again. As Snape approached the boy, his hand twitched, as though it planned to rip those eyes out of the boy's face. But then the boy turned, and it wasn't James's eyes that stared back at him. The twitching stopped, and Snape stood there silently, feeling ill.

Dumbledore had turned as well. "Ah, Severus," he said. "I was just talking with Harry about his world. There are some striking contrasts. Voldemort's powers appear to have developed along another path." He looked at Harry expectantly. "You mentioned he was focused on the powers of the mind. Does this perhaps have something to do with the night your parents were attacked?"

The boy bobbed his head, staring at his hands, but said nothing further.

"Is this information necessary?" said Snape. Terror rose in him at the mention of that night and he was determined to steer the conversation in another direction. He turned to Dumbledore. "I thought you asked me here to work towards a solution to our--" he flicked his eyes at the boy, "--little problem."

"It's important to understand our new charge," said Dumbledore. Snape clenched his jaw. "But I suppose it can wait." With an impatient look at Snape, Dumbledore rose and asked Harry to lie down in the bed he had used the previous night.

Many incantations later, they had established that the boy was, indeed, not from this world. But his place of origin was still a mystery. Whatever had remained of the pathway was mere magical residue now. And in that residue Snape had heard the echo of other worlds—millions of them.

"Well," said Dumbledore. "It appears I was right in my assessment that this will take time."

Snape felt a tugging on his robes and looked down. A hand was snaking into one of the pockets of his outer robe. He slapped it away and glared at the boy. "What are you doing?"

Harry rubbed his hand, looking contrite. "I wanted some bubblefruit."

"Bubblefruit," Dumbledore murmured. "Used in some potions, yes? Mild calming effect, if I recall correctly."

Snape nodded. "And cooling properties." He remembered his mother giving him the marble-sized fruit as a child. He'd had a tendency to cry until he hyperventilated, and the sharp snap of the shell between his teeth and the taste of the icy-cold juices were the only thing that had soothed him.

"I eat loads of it," said Harry. "Dad gave it to me when I was teething and I took to it."

"Of course!" Dumbledore clapped his hands in delight. "Do you know that Harry has turned down every offer of sweets I've given him? I was beginning to think I was loosing my touch."

Harry wrinkled his nose. "I just like the bubblefruit." He eyed Snape's pocket doubtfully. "You don't have any?"

"No," said Snape curtly. "If that's all—" he moved to leave, but Dumbledore had wrapped an arm around his shoulders and didn't seem inclined to remove it.

"Oh, but surely you have some," the headmaster said. "After all, it's a potions ingredient. You're so diligent about being well-stocked."

"I may have some in my chambers," Snape admitted. "In storage."

"Wonderful!" said Dumbledore. "I'll let Harry lead the way."

Harry beamed and trotted towards the infirmary door. Dumbledore propelled Snape along from behind.

"I'm not a fruit vendor," he growled. "Those are ingredients from my private stock."

"Now Severus, surely you can part with a few. From the sound of it, you don't use much. In any case," Dumbledore said, lowering his voice, "it will give us an opportunity to talk."

Snape took the hint and dropped back a few paces from Harry as they walked down the corridor. "You've discovered something?"

"What I discovered is that this Harry is not one to share details of his life. At least not with me. I'd finally gotten him to open up about what happened to his parents when you interrupted—"

"You asked me to come!"

"And your assistance in searching for a path back was very helpful. However, we must get to know this new Harry. I need to know how he will respond in certain situations, to prepare for all eventualities."

"All eventualities," repeated Snape. He looked sharply at Dumbledore. "You think he may have to face the Dark Lord? Surely we can return the boy before he arises?"

"It's far graver than that. There is the possibility that we may not find a way to return him at all. It may be this Harry who will have to destroy Voldemort—a Harry who may have been prepared for a completely different kind of battle. It is important that we understand what will motivate this boy. From what I can determine, he has no strong sentiment for James, and his mother was spared. Defeating Voldemort will require great passion and sacrifice, and I wonder how to find that within him."

Snape snorted. "You talk as though the other was a bastion of power and resourcefulness."

"Some resourcefulness, and yes, he had a certain power, fueled by love and loss. Not very different from yourself, in that way."

At that, Snape jerked his shoulder away from Dumbledore's arm. "Do not compare me to that insolent child."

"Not so insolent. Or have you not noticed that this child is remarkably conciliatory towards you?"

He hadn't. Snape watched the boy ahead of them, who was skipping down the dungeon steps. In all his years at Hogwarts, he had never seen a student do that. He found it disturbing.

"Harry has become a mystery to me, which makes it difficult to plan for his future. I would ask that you try to become his confidant. What he may tell you may be difficult to hear, but you must make the effort."

Snape nodded. Harry was now at the door to his chambers, tapping it with his wand experimentally.

Dumbledore patted him on the back. "Good! I'll be off, then."

Snape's mouth fell open. "You're leaving me alone with him?"

"Oh, I rather think I would be an unwelcome intrusion." And with a wink, he climbed back up the stairs.

Snape glared at his retreating back. Then he turned and caught up with Harry, who was still holding his wand against the door. As if he thought he would be able to enter his chambers with a simple Alohomora. "It's warded with several passwords. Stay here, and I'll bring out the—"

"That's okay, I think I've got it," said Harry, and spoke an incantation. The door opened an inch. Snape stared at the gap as though a giant spider were lurking behind it. "How?" He asked.

Every fourth ingredient in Veritaserum, right? This is the season you usually make it, and you like to use the number four in your passwords." He shrugged at Snape's look. "It did take me a while, if that helps." He put his hand against the door.

"Wait," said Snape. "There's an additional password for intruders who get this far."

"Lily," said Harry confidently, and the door swung completely open. Harry beamed and hopped inside. Snape remained in the hallway, waiting for the pounding in his temples to subside.

By the time he entered his chambers, Harry was already rummaging in his storage room. His brows were knitted together in a frown. "This is supposed to be my room," he muttered, but he brightened when he spotted the jar of bubblefruit near the top of one of the shelves that lined the room. He grabbed the nearest shelf and wiggled it appraisingly. Then, before Snape could register what happened, he had clambered to the top of the shelves and hung there, the jar of bubblefruit held tightly with one arm. The shelves creaked ominously.

Snape came to his senses quickly. "Get down from there. You'll break something." He wasn't sure if he was more concerned about the boy's bones or the several jars of expensive ingredients that were slowly shuddering towards the edge of the shelf.

Harry grinned and climbed down slowly. He was already unscrewing the jar when his feet hit the ground. He pulled a handful of bubblefruit out before Snape snatched the jar away from him.

"A simple 'Accio' would have done the trick." He levitated the jar back to its proper place.

"I don't know Accio."

"That is no excuse."

Harry shrugged as he poured the handful of fruit into his pocket. "S'more fun this way." He popped one of the fruits in his mouth and offered the other in an outstretched hand. After a moment, Snape accepted the fruit. The boy looked delighted. Snape silently cursed Dumbledore.

"Do you live alone?" asked Harry. "There's no one else?"

No one, thought Snape. "Don't ask impertinent questions, Potter."

"Snape," said Harry, frowning.

Insolence. Just as he thought. He was on more familiar ground now. "Professor," he replied.

Harry stared at him.

"You will address me as Professor or Sir."

Harry shook his head, and Snape warmed for an argument. But Harry simply said, "I meant my name. Snape. Not Potter."

"Ah," was all Snape could reply. He watched the dust motes circling the room. "Why?" He finally asked.

"Why what?"

"Why Snape? It wasn't necessary for him to adopt you if there's still…a surviving parent."

"Dad said it's because we're family."

Snape narrowed his eyes. He couldn't imagine a more unlikely set of words emerging from his mouth.

"But I think he also wanted to protect me. He wants to make sure I stay with him." The boy rubbed his hands on his robes awkwardly. "In case she wasn't there anymore."

An ominous buzzing began in Snape's head. He remembered the boy saying something last night about taking care of her. "You said she survived the attack."

"Yes," said Harry, a small tremor in his voice.

The buzzing had transformed into a loud clanging. He had seen how Voldemort had played with those he did not yet wish to kill. "But he did not leave her untouched."

There was no reply, and he looked over to see that Harry had bitten his lip so hard, he'd broken the skin. "There's something I need to tell you," he whispered, "about my mum."