“NO!” An anguished scream tore through the air, and the emotion hung in the air for several minutes. A limp form on the bed convulsed, and only stopped when it needed to breathe. The room was dark; the only light came from the moon, streaming in through barred windows. The figure on the bed tentatively sat up, panting hard. Unconsciously, he fingered the scar on his forehead, and remembered.

It had only been days since he left his refuge. Here, he was conscious of the terrible loneliness, the dread of being discovered. There, he was safe…not from visions, but safe, nonetheless. He would be taken care of there, comforted. In this house, he would be beaten, starved, and abused. He never told anyone about it, partially out of pride and partially from misguided fears.

He had instilled the words of his teacher in long ago. After all, Severus Snape had been the only one to tell him the truth – that he was as worthless as a penny fallen into the sewer. His aunt, uncle, and his cousin had told him that his entire life. And it was true – oh, so unbearably true. Those people who told him otherwise…they meant well, but they didn’t have to hide the truth from him. No, he knew it already, and nothing could change that.

If it weren’t true, why did his parents leave him? There was the whole your-mother-loved-you-so-much-she-died-for-you crap, but inside, he knew that she had died so she could be reunited with his father, leaving, no, abandoning him. And there wasn’t anything he could do, except keep quiet.

It was nights like these that made him wary. He could hear his cousin Dudley’s snoring in the next room, effectively drowning out all other sounds. Which, as a result, prevented him from knowing what his uncle was up to. Harry shuddered. His uncle, hopefully, was passed out on the couch, dead drunk. If he was only half-drunk, and he’d heard Harry’s screams…there’d be hell to pay.

Unfortunately, his uncle was only half-drunk that night, and even more unluckily, he had heard Harry’s scream. At first, he passed it off for a teenager’s midnight vigil (he had turned the corner the other night trying to find his house, and he found a couple PDA-ing instead). But as he thought about it, he realized that the scream had come from his own house. It couldn’t have been Dudley; his boy was still snoring to high heavens. Petunia, his wife, was out of state on a visit with her old friend…which left one person. The useless, arrogant, freakish brat – Harry bloody Potter.

Vernon Dursley stormed up the stairs, eager to take out his anger on the child. To his dismay, he couldn’t get into the room. The boy must have done magic. In truth, Harry had done nothing, and had no idea what commotion was happening outside his door. No, there were far more serious matters at hand. To be exact, the Death Eater’s mask that had fallen onto the floor, having appeared out of nowhere.

Harry was huddled on the far side of the bed, as far as he could from the mask. There was something inherently evil about the mask, even without a master. Harry could feel it ooze out of the mask, and he inadvertently shuddered. What was it doing on the floor of his room? Unless the Death Eaters were outside waiting to kill him. He welcomed death, of that there was no question. But why toss a mask into his room? And how did they know that was his room? Oh, right, the bars. That would give it away, no problem.

It was such a lovely birthday present for his thirteenth birthday. Harry supposed he should be glad that someone had remembered, flattered, even. No one had ever given him a gift before…a birthday gift anyways. He had received Christmas gifts at Hogwarts, but that was about it. Come summer, everyone forgot about him – which was the way it should be.  Gingerly, Harry reached over the side of the bed with a part of a lacrosse stick Dudley had broken. He quickly flipped the mask, curious to see what was underneath. There was nothing. To be exact, nothing other than the mask. But the drawing inscribed on it made him breathless. Inside etched on the mask… was an exact rendition of a lily.  

********

Interestingly enough, Minerva McGonagall was not spending her evening with Albus Dumbledore, her long time soulmate. She was curled up on the couch, perusing old letters, dabbing a tear for some, and bursting out in laughter at others. One particular letter drew her into the past, and she was catapulted into old memories.

Dear Professor,

What you saw the other day…Please, I beg of you, keep it to yourself. James and I have discussed it thoroughly, and believe it is for the best. I know, I haven’t been the best of daughters…but please, keep this quiet for my sake. I want this to be over soon, so I can finally reveal the truth. But for now, until He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named is dead, we can do nothing. Please, Mother, for my sake?

                                Love,

                  Lily McGonagall

Lily wasn’t Minerva’s biological child. No, rather, she was her child in spirit…and had formally adopted her when her parents had died tragically in a car crash. Lily’s sister, Petunia, had refused to be adopted by a magical person, and had been given over to the system. It wasn’t until Lily’s death that they had found her; after all, though Minerva might be the grandmother, she wasn’t true blood. And so she had willingly given up the boy to her daughter’s sister, hoping that he would be safe. She saw the child every so often in her Animagus form. Harry had seemed all right, though sometimes he sported bruises. She, of course, had told Albus, but he had gravely told her that there was no solution for it. Harry must stay at the Dursleys’.

She trusted Albus, no doubt about it. But yet, there was something nudging her at the back of her brain. It was quite odd…she hadn’t had such a reaction from her sixth sense in a while. Oh well, she would think about it after she finished sorting the letters.

********

Severus Snape was in his potions lab, and he was not happy. No, not even his usual snarky attitude compared with this today. His mood may have been possibly been due to the Headmaster and the Deputy Headmistress’s need to incessantly check up on him for the past few hours. He had blown up three pewter cauldrons (thank God they weren’t gold!) and destroyed at least a 100 Galleons worth of potions ingredients. The only bright side he could see at the moment was the fact that the replacement cost wouldn’t come out of his own pocket; after all, he had been brewing for the school. On the other hand, he really had to do something about their annoying habits.

He smirked. They wouldn’t admit it, but they were in love. It was so obvious. On several occasions, Severus had caught the Headmaster and Professor McGonagall holding hands. When he coughed to announce his presence…how high they had jumped! It was tremendously fun to torment the two of them; they were as good as tormenting the Gryffindors or the Hufflepuffs. Yes, he schemed, he must do something about it. An evil smirk contorted his face as he considered his tormentors’ fates. It was too bad he couldn’t do anything permanent to his surrogate father.

He hadn’t always been this way, nasty and cold. In the past, he had a heart, loving, cherishing those around him. But his beloved’s betrayal and death had changed him. Like Stalin, Severus’s heart had turned to stone after Lily Evans’s death. Yes, Evans. Not Snape, because he had divorced her, and not Potter…because he refused to acknowledge that scum’s presence. In fact, until she died he had harboured a hope that she might still come back to him. But now…he still loved her, yes, but all other emotion was void in him, no matter how much his father – the Headmaster – tried to pull them out of him.

But soon would come a time when his mask would slowly break, cracking, tearing little by little, until the sunrise could be seen again. 

Harry was still staring at the mask when the sun came up. The light sparkled off the mask, and an odd smoke-like substance rose from it. That was strange. Was he dreaming? Harry rubbed his eyes, and peered again. It must have been his imagination. He looked at his watch. It was almost time to get up, and prepare for breakfast. He stretched once, and stumbled over to the door.  Unlocking it, he peered out. Why was Uncle Vernon on the floor? Harry rolled up his sleeves, and proceeded to carry – no, drag – his uncle back downstairs and on to the couch. It was too risky to put his uncle in his bed; his aunt would definitely hear him - not to mention, feel - and scream bloody murder.

He grabbed all the food he would need out of the fridge, and then turned on the stove. At half-past six, he woke his uncle. “Uncle Vernon, wake up!”

“Ehh?” his uncle blearily asked.

“You’ve got to go to work!” said Harry, frustrated. At this rate, all the eggs and sausages would be burned.

“I’ll be up in a minute…” 

Harry sighed. If his uncle wouldn’t wake up now, he’d be in for it. Maybe the smell of breakfast would wake him? He walked back into the kitchen, loaded a dish with scrambled eggs, sausages, and French toast, then walked into the living room, and waved the dish in his uncle’s face. He was barely in time to stop his uncle from bolting upright and knocking the plate. 

“Eh? You’ve got breakfast already, boy?” 

“Yes, Uncle,” said Harry submissively. Why wouldn’t he take the plate already? He could almost see the pan crashing on his head if the food was burned. “I’m going to leave it here, Uncle.” 

Harry quickly retreated back into the kitchen. Thankfully, nothing was burned. Aunt Petunia hopefully wouldn’t be able to find any fault in it, though one never quite knew what was going on in her head. And whatever she said, Harry agreed. She knew him best, after all, having raised him. He quickly finished making the breakfast, sneaking some food, and then went to wake his aunt, who had a hair appointment at 10. If she didn’t wake up now, Harry would sport a very large bruise at the back of his head. 

He knocked on her door. “Aunt Petunia?” 

There was no response. He tried again. “Aunt Petunia? Are you awake?” 

He didn’t dare go in. The last time he did…to say it was scarring was the understatement of the century. He’d have to ask his uncle to wake her up. He ran down the stairs, where he found his uncle scarfing down the food. “Uncle Vernon?”

“What do you want, boy.”

 “Umm…Aunt Petunia…she has a hair appointment in two hours. I-I can’t wake her up,” stuttered Harry. “C-could you…?”

“What, you want me to do your job for you? Ungrateful little brat,” snarled Vernon. “I’ll wake her when I go upstairs. You – you go weed the garden.” 

“B-but Uncle – ” 

“What, you don’t want to do that either!” Vernon got up, and his face twisted. “I’ll teach you to behave that way!”

 Harry’s heart sank. His uncle had forgotten that he himself had dug up the garden earlier, so they could make some sort of walkway in the front of the house. Harry couldn’t bring himself to tell his uncle though; it served him right for being such a smartass. Why, oh why did he open his mouth? His uncle flung him against the wall. Harry braced himself for impact, but it hurt just as much as every other time. His head connected with the fire grate. He felt himself losing consciousness, but not before he felt the first hit from his uncle’s belt. Thankfully, he wasn’t conscious to feel the rest.

When Vernon was done, he took Harry’s limp form back into his room, and bolted the door from the outside. He walked away without another glance, but did remember to wake Petunia, who had a right fit. Harry was oblivious to it all. 

In fact, he was close to death. Perhaps he knew, but he didn't feel the blows - which was a mercy. When his uncle threw him against the wall, his partially healed concussion from the last bout was further antagonized when Harry’s head hit the exact same spot. It was so bad, he had cerebral hemorrhaging. At this point, both his magic and the nearby mask took over, stripping away everything, and re-laying the foundations all over again. They also took down the blood wards around the house, causing mayhem on the other side of the British Isles. 

********

Albus Dumbledore was out of his mind. Or so it seemed to Severus. He had bagged Minerva, Severus, and Filius to go “rescue” the Boy-Who-Lived. Why Severus? Oh, yes, that oath he swore to protect the boy. He and Severus had exchanged several heated words (or, rather, Severus had), but in the end, Minerva had snapped at the both of them and reminded them that Potter’s life was in possible danger. As if. If he was, Severus would be the first to know. After all, he was on both sides. He would always be the first to know. 

They quickly Floo’d to Arabella Figg, who hadn’t seen to notice anything next door. As usual, she was cuddling her kneazles, and staring at the telly.  She jumped, when she saw her guests. “Headmaster, Professors!” 

“We’re just here to get Harry, Arabella,” said Dumbledore calmly. “We’ll be back in a bit.” 

He turned to the other three, and told them quietly, “Keep your wands out.” 

Severus kept his face impassive, but inside, he was rolling his eyes. Really, melodrama, was it now? The other two followed Dumbledore through, with Severus bringing up the end of the line. They made sure to make themselves invisible to Muggles, and walked towards 4 Privet Drive. There, they saw someone very unlikely standing in front of the house, seemingly waiting for them. 

“Lupin,” Severus growled. “What are you doing here?” 

“Now, now, Severus,” said Dumbledore. “Remus, thank you for responding so quickly.” 

“I came as fast as I could,” gasped Remus. “There aren’t any suspicious people around, and I’ve even been inside. I can’t find Harry.” 

“Are you sure?” asked Dumbledore, concerned. 

Severus laughed. “The spoiled brat must have decided to run away. I remember specifically telling you that there was no urgency in the situation.” 

“Nonetheless, that does not explain why the blood wards have fallen, my dear boy,” said Dumbledore. “Remus, is anyone inside at the moment?” 

“Harry’s family seems to be out,” said Remus apologetically. “Or else I would have knocked.” 

“We should go in and check, Albus,” suggested Minerva. “Just to make sure Harry is all right.” 

Filius squeaked his agreement. All five of them proceeded into the house, only hearing the breeze rustling the curtains. Dumbledore, Minerva, and Filius searched the main living area, to no avail. They went down to the basement. Remus and Severus, on the other hand, had made their way to the stairs. 

“Wait, wolf,” said Severus. “Let me check here.”

He had paused right at the cupboard. Remus looked at him in puzzlement. “Why would you want to look here?” 

“It has the capacity for a thirteen year old to hide in, does it not?” asked Severus, raising his eyebrow in question, or as a sardonic expression. Remus couldn’t tell; instead, he nodded. Severus opened the cupboard door. No one there, but what they saw shocked them anyways. 

Harys’ Rume

There was dried blood on the floor, on the small mattress. Severus and Remus both knew whose it was: Harry’s. The sign on the wall explained as much. Remus and Severus stared at each other in shock. They quickly clambered up the stairs (well, Remus did, Severus glided). There were four rooms. They didn’t even have to pause. There could only be one room that was Harry’s, considering the condition of the cupboard downstairs. The smallest, locked one. 

“Alohomora,” whispered Severus. Remus fainted dead away.  Severus immediately ran over to Harry’s side and felt for a pulse. He almost fainted too, from relief. He pulled himself together, however, and managed to call down to the other three. 

“Professors!” Severus called. “Assistance required here immediately!”

The three of them ran up the stairs, panting, with joints creaking audibly. Minerva, Dumbledore, and Filius froze in shock. 

Minerva was the first to recover. “What have they done?!?” 

“We can deal with that later,” said Severus grimly. “We need to get Mr. Potter back to the Infirmary now.” 

He placed Harry in a stasis spell, made sure his spine was stabilized, and ran out the door with Harry in his arms. 

“What have I done?” Dumbledore sank to his knees in shock. Minerva moved immediately to his side, placing her hand on his shoulder. 

“You couldn’t have known, Al,” said Minerva. “You couldn’t have known.” 

“But I should have!” Minerva had never see Albus lose control in all the years she had known him. He had been there for her…now, it was time to pay that back. Filius noticed the intense moment, decided to give them a bit of privacy. He moved Remus down the hall, and into the next door room, where he tried to wake Remus.   

An hour later, the Dursleys had still not come home, but it was all right. The four wizards left Harry’s room and cupboard closed and locked. No one would be able to get in, except the appropriate authorities. A police report was filed, and from that day on, Harry’s life would no longer be the same – in more ways than one.

********

Earlier, he had been unable to transform into his Animagus form, his magic having been so dirtied by the Dementors. But with this added boost, anything was possible. He willed his magic to come forth again. Years ago, he had been taught wandless magic, but had never really applied himself. Now, his brain called all those memories to the front, and magic was unleashed. The prison was subjected to a great white light, which shone like a beacon on the outside for hours on end. Sirius reached his Animagus form, and ran like hell for the outside. Dementors were confused, inmates blinded, and Aurors stunned. He took advantage of this, and swam as fast as he could to the other side. 

His muscles had deteriorated in his stay in Azkaban. Even his resolve would not save him. Finally, as he began to give up, a hand reached into the water and pulled him out.

“Laddie, what ye doin on a strange nigh as this,” a jolly voice boomed out. “’Tis quite strange, indeed. Let’s get ye on to dry land, shall we naw, lad?” 

Sirius was elated. He hadn’t been caught! The old fisherman regaled him with tales of the sea, and when they reached the shore, Sirius barked his thanks, and made for the woods. His direction? Hogwarts. 

“Naw tha’s a strange wee pup, I say.” The old fisherman scratched his head in puzzlement. A Muggle, he didn’t understand. Perhaps it was better that he didn’t. Made for a whole less bit of trouble, anyways. “Ah, well. A good deed’s alway returned, yah?”

He turned back and headed into his cottage, wondering about the strange dog. It would haunt him for the rest of his days…but not without some gain. 

The fresh air was delicious to his senses. He was free! At times, he felt like dancing, but he knew it would be extremely odd for a dog to do so. At every town, he’d stop and beg for scraps, or steal food from vendors or loading docks. All in all, he once had again a deep satisfaction in life. Or would have, if not for one thing, well, two: he wasn’t quite free, and…Harry. Harry must be at least thirteen now, if he had performed his calculations correctly. How he loved that boy! The little quirk on his face that signified a smile, the way his eyes lit up…and he had missed the growing up process. He would make up for that, he resolved, as soon as he was free. 

He had no idea where to start. After all, it wasn’t as if Peter would willingly give himself up, nor was there concrete evidence that Sirius wasn’t the Secret Keeper, unless Lily actually wrote it down, as she had threatened to do. Maybe… 

He was closer to Hogsmeade than Diagon Alley. He could probably use the Floo at Hog’s Head. After all, Aberforth was the only one who stood up for him, according to the gossip mill.  He ran by Lake Ness, and past forests. He ran into cities, where Muggles either ignored him, or tried to kick him. Some were nice, granted, but the vast majority weren’t. Perhaps that explained Voldemort’s disdain for the Muggle population. In any case, it didn’t matter to him. If Voldemort was out to kill his friends, well, he had something coming to him.

By the third day, he had made it to Hogsmeade. A familiar smell brought back a sense of nostalgia, this having been his first home. He sat back on his heels for several moments, still, recalling the past. The first day of his Hogsmeade visit with James and Remus. Peter had been ill that day, come down with some sort of flu or another. He banished Peter from his mind. No point in thinking about him, really. Then there was the day they had bought various instruments with which they had planned to prank the student populace. Those were the days. If only they had lasted longer. No allegiances to the Light, or to the Dark. No judgmental fools randomly tossing innocents into hell. But even then, at the back of his mind, he knew his younger days weren’t so empty of such nonsense. A man could dream, couldn’t he? 

The smells of Hog’s Head quickly jolted him back to reality. He wheeled to the back of the inn, where the back entrance was. This place was as rickety as a 300 year old man with rheumatism and arthritis. He really had to speak to Aberforth about re-applying the charms, or replacing the place. On several occasions, the roof had threatened to smash his head. The old man had always laughed him off, saying the building was playing tricks with him. As if a building could, really. Sirius sometimes wondered if Aberforth was as batty as his brother. He certainly seemed like it. On the plus side, he was as brilliant as his brother, though he rarely showed any signs of being so. Nope, Aberforth hated the limelight – all the better for one Sirius Black. 

Sirius opened the first door, and transformed back into his human shape. He quickly cast a Scourgify on himself (James would have a field day with that!), and knocked on the second door. While he waited, he shifted from one foot to another, wondering what Dumbledore the Younger would say to him. He didn’t wait long. 

“Sirius Black?” Disbelieving eyes stared at him, and before Sirius could react, big long arms had engulfed him into a hug. “Lad! How have you been?” 

“I’r ter ye soon as ye ger-off of mr!” 

“Sorry, lad, didn’t mean to squeeze you so hard. Hagrid’s been rubbing off on me,” said old Aberforth. “How in Merlin’s name did you get out of Azkaban?” 

“A few tricks here and there,” said Sirius, blushing a bit. “Tell me everything. I’ve missed…twelve years of my life!” 

“That you did, that you did…” Aberforth paused, and thought. “Voldemort’s come back, twice so far, unless I’ve missed something. I still dislike my brother, Snape’s brewed Wolfsbane, and gotten some hefty recognition for it. 1500 Galleons, or something like that. Told me to redecorate the place with some of that. I asked him whatever for? Place is as good as new.” 

Aberforth laughed, missing Sirius’s wince. So Snape had the same idea as him? What a dismal day. Thank goodness he hadn’t told Aberforth. “Well, what about Harry?”

“Harry?” Aberforth’s eyebrows knit together. “Oh, you mean the Potter boy. He’s the one who’s been giving Voldemort what he’s worth lately. Staying with his relatives, I think. Had some kind of fuss over him the last week or so. He should be up in Hogwarts now.” 

“Fuss? No, wait, I’ll find out myself,” said Sirius. “But what’s he like? Is he like James?”   

“I wouldn’t know, lad. He hasn’t come in here,” said Aberforth. “But Hagrid liked him. Said he was a good one, a little shy and quiet, but good, nonetheless.” 

“He’s not a goody two-shoes, is he?” Sirius groaned. “I couldn’t bear it if he was. Please tell me he’s not.” 

“He flew a flying car to Hogwarts last year,” said Aberforth. “So I imagine not.”

“Bloody hell! A flying car?!? I didn’t have my bike ‘til I graduated!” 

“And lucky you did, or my brother would have tossed you out on your ear,” said Aberforth. “Now, lad, where are you staying?” 

“I don’t know yet,” replied Sirius, a bit bashfully. “I was just going to go to the Shrieking Shack –” 

“And what, starve yourself there?” muttered Aberforth. “Stay here. No one comes in here anyways. You can help me with the dishes.” 

“Why don’t you just use magic?” asked Sirius. “So much easier that way.” 

“Because…” Aberforth looked around. “Because the building doesn’t like it.” 

“The building?”

“Lad, believe me. If I could wash the dishes with magic, I would have done so already. As it is, there are approximately 10 piles in the kitchen waiting for you. Besides, you wouldn’t have a job if you could just magically clean them,” said Aberforth, with a twinkle in his eye. “But start tomorrow morning. You look like you could get a good rest right now. I’ll get you some new clothes.” 

“I’m fine –” 

“No, and that’s final. Now go to bed. Up these stairs, and last door on your right. Now, good night.” 

“Bugger.” 

“I heard that, young man,” said Aberforth. “Now, go.” 

“I’m going, I’m going.” Sirius trudged up the stairs. What nonsense. There were only doors on the right side of the hallway. The left side was just a wall. And why did he have to go to bed now? It was barely noon. Not that he didn’t welcome the rest. Just…he hated being treated like a five year old.

Reaching the door, he cautiously opened it. Like an old man, he toddled in, pausing to close the door behind him. He stiffened. He remembered this room. When his parents had first thrown him out, he had stayed here for his first few weeks after school had ended, hence his relationship with Aberforth. Nothing had changed, really. Same dusty old table in the corner, where he had done his homework. Same dent in the wall where he had thrown his Hogwarts: A History in a fit, when he couldn’t do anymore Potions. Thankfully not the same bedding, or carpeting. Then he noticed something on the bed. Clothes? 

He unfolded them, gingerly. He hadn’t touched any clothes since he had gone into that hellhole. The ones he wore now weren’t fit to be called clothes. Rags, more like. He sniffled. How could someone care for him so much? And they were the right size too. Soon, he found himself on his knees, his face in his new clothes. He cried, cried for the ones he lost. Cried for the injustice in this world, cried for all the years he had lost. And last of all, he cried for undeserved love, love that he thought he never would have again. 

********

In Hogwarts, his boyhood enemy sat by his best friend’s son in shock. All his misconceptions were shattered, and Severus Snape found himself gazing at Harry Potter as if for the first time. It would be his fault if those bright green eyes were never to open again. Although, it wasn’t as if he didn’t have enough guilt already. For throwing the boy’s mother out, then inadvertently killing her…another thrown on him would hardly matter at this point. Would Fate never cease to point her finger at him? 

“Severus Snape! Either you move out of the way, or you lend me a hand! Stop being a useless lump!” 

“Useless lump, Madam? Far from that,” replied Severus, insulted. “But I shall assist you.” 

“I need a Blood Replenishing Potion now. Top shelf, right corner,” ordered Madam Pomphrey. “Now!” 

Severus quickly glided into the Infirmary’s stockroom. There it was. He reached for it. Looking at it, he cursed. “How long have you kept these potions, Madam Pomphrey?” 

“They should be all right, Severus. Why?” 

“Because they’ve expired. Lost their potency,” Severus bluntly said. “I’ll need to brew some more.” 

“Use my lab, then. Much faster than running down to the dungeons,” said Madam Pomphrey. “Could you also grab me the Skele-gro? I need it pronto.” 

Severus grabbed all of the necessary potions, knowing that if he didn’t, he would have to eventually. He thrust them at her. “Here.” 

He turned to enter into her lab. “Severus, thank you.” 

“For what?” he muttered, but it fell upon deaf ears. Madam Pomphrey had already turned back to Harry, mending him as best she could. He quickly retrieved all the ingredients, and began to make the potion. Of course, he made it in record time. Quickly, he bottled enough for Madam Pomphrey’s stockroom, and one for Potter. He rushed out. “Madam, here.” 

“Thank you,” she said absentmindedly, and spelled the potion into his stomach. Immediately, his colour began to change. “He won’t be paralyzed, thanks to your quick thinking, Severus. And he’ll be as good as he was before.” 

She frowned. Severus, noticing this, asked, “What’s wrong?” 

“Well, he’s underweight and malnourished, for one. Which can be expected, knowing where he came from,” she laughed bitterly. “But…there’s something odd going on. The bone structure’s different from when I last saw him.” 

“He’s growing, Madam,” said Severus. “It’s only normal.” 

“No, Severus,” replied Madam Pomphrey. “His entire framework is different. Can’t you see? Even his hair is different.”

“Oh, Merlin,” breathed Severus. “What’s going on?” 

“I’ll get to the bottom of this, don’t you worry,” said Madam Pomphrey. “Just let me call up his diagnostics…” 

She turned around, and Severus did the same. They were engrossed in his file, and Severus shook his head. “How could we not have seen this?” 

“I was never able to do a full check-up until now, Severus. Though he should’ve gotten a first-year check-up before he came in. All students have to do one with their family Healer…”

“And he didn’t have one,” said Severus. “Oh, God.” 

Madam Pomphrey turned around, and paled. “Severus, do you see what I see?” 

Severus turned. “What in the name of Merlin? He was in no condition to go anywhere!” 

“And if he had woken up, we would’ve felt it,” said Madam Pomphrey grimly. “He must still be here.” 

“How on earth can Potter disappear even when he’s in a coma?” said Severus. “I told you it was ingrained in him!” 

“Calm down, Severus,” said Madam Pomphrey, and then promptly fainted. 

“Calm down, indeed,” mocked Severus. “Women and their hysterics.” 

He lifted her on to a nearby bed. “A series of events that cannot ever coincide for my benefit. To put in the words of that meddling old coot, what rotten luck!” 

“Homenum Reveleo!” Severus casted. It revealed nothing. All he saw still was Madam Pomphrey. Where could that dratted boy be? He walked over to the bed where the boy was last seen. The blankets looked flat, but to be sure, he prodded the bed. It was true. Potter was gone. 

********

“You must give Harry to me.” 

“No, me. I grew up with his father. I can raise him best.” 

“Desist with this pointless argument,” growled an unwelcome voice at the door of Albus Dumbledore’s office. “Can’t you see Albus is not even listening to you at present? Besides, neither of you can have him until we find him.” 

“You lost him?” Minerva and Lupin turned and stared at him. Even his father looked at him in surprise. 

“Oh my,” squeaked Filius. “What have you done, Severus?” 

“I have done nothing, thank you,” said Severus. “Potter disappeared on us.” 

“Us?” asked Minerva. “Where’s Poppy?” 

“She fainted. After Potter’s disappearance,” said Severus. “Your assistance is not required in looking for the boy, if you prefer to argue.” 

Severus walked out of the room. He knew they would be up to something useless or another. As for Minerva, well, after his divorce with Lily, the two of them hadn’t gotten along.

“Wait for me, Severus!” said Filius. “Tell me what happened.” 

“Yes, pray tell, Severus,” said Lupin with a feral smile. “What have you done with Harry?” 

“Done to him?” mocked Severus. “Besides patching him up? Nothing. Now, kindly cease pointing fingers. Your Golden Boy needs to be found, and it is likely if we do not start looking now, we will lose him. He is in need of another Blood Replenisher in fifteen minutes.” 

They all walked down to the Infirmary. Albus stepped in front of him, and said, “Homenum Reveleo!” 

“I already tried that, Albus,” said Severus dryly. “I’ve even poked and prodded at his bed.” 

“Well, my boy, it never hurts to try,” his father was turning back to normal, thank God. “Accio Harry!” 

“You can’t summon a living being!” cried Severus. “You know that.” 

“Hmmm…it worked for you,” said Albus, then laughed at his shocked expression. “It was a joke, my boy.” 

Remus had taken to poking the bed. “You’re right, Severus, he’s not here.” 

“I told you,” snarled Severus. “Why does no one ever take me at my word?” 

“Because we like to verify things for ourselves,” said Albus. “Have you looked under the bed?” 

“Why would he be under the bed?” asked Remus, and then looked. He wasn’t there, obviously. Severus, this time, said nothing. Instead, he rolled his eyes. “Are we ready to begin this search seriously?” 

Minerva was looking at Remus strangely. She walked over to him, and whispered. Remus, in turn, frowned. “We lost that old thing ages ago. How did you know about it, anyways?” 

“I know everything, Remus,” said Minerva. “Are you sure…?” 

“Wonderful,” snarled Severus. “Secrets.”

“No, no, my dear boy,” said Albus. “I know what they’re whispering about.” 

“Of course, leave me in the dark.” 

“Filius doesn’t know, either,” reminded Albus. “Do you, Filius?” 

“Of course I do!” said the short man, indignantly. “I caught them using it quite a few times. It was quite ingenious, if I do say so myself.” 

“See?” said Severus self-righteously. 

“Ah, but, my dear boy, you have it in your possession right now,” said Albus. “In fact, you confiscated it off the Weasley twins at the end of the year.” 

“That disgusting, insulting piece of rubbish?” roared Severus. “What in Merlin’s name do you want that for?” 

“The Marauder’s Map, am I not correct?” At Remus’s nod, Albus continued. “It keeps track of everyone in the castle.”

“Lovely,” grumbled Severus. “No wonder you always found me.”

Remus shrugged. “It wasn’t my idea.” 

Severus scoffed. “As if Black and Pettigrew were intelligent enough to create something like that.” 

“Severus, don’t you have something to get?” asked Filius. “You really should, you know. The poor boy could be bleeding out right now.” 

Severus left, muttering nasty words under his breath. Who were they to talk? He reached his office quickly, using all the shortcuts at his disposal. Entering his office, and he walked to the “Confiscated” Shelf. After rummaging, he quickly found the piece of parchment. He returned to the Infirmary, where he shoved it at Remus. “Here.” 

Remus tapped it with his wand, and said, “I solemnly swear I am up to no good.” 

All of them crowded around the Map, astonished. “I see all of us, but no Harry. Are you sure this works, Remus?”

 “Of course it works,” said Remus indignantly. “But that is strange. Where could Harry have gone?”

“Maybe you should turn around then,” said a familiar voice, but then, not so familiar. 

“Harry?!?”

“Potter?” This time, it was Severus’s turn to faint. And faint he did. 

There’s always something distinctly wrong when you’re staring at a thirteen year oldchild and notice that there is a terrorist-affiliated mask on his face. Especially when you know the child is the icon of the Light. If anyone needed justification for fainting, that was it. Of course, Severus’s normal responsewould have been to sneer at the boy and ask him if his loyalties had changed. Buthis voice! Oh how painfully familiar it sounded, and not altogether in a good way.

When he came to, he found everyone crowded around him. 

“My dear boy, what is wrong?” asked Albus mildly. “Are you feeling ill?”

“Look at him!” shouted Severus hoarsely. “And you tell me there’s nothing wrong with him?!?” 

“But my dear Severus, Harry is…well, exactly the same as he’s always been,” said apuzzled Filius. “What in Merlin’s name are you talking about?” 

“Describe his face for me,” said Severus tersely. “Now.”

“You know, I’m right here,” said Harry indignantly. “I’m not see-through, you know.” 

“Of course, Harry,” said Minerva soothingly. “Now, Severus…there is nothing wrongwith Harry.” 

“Describe his face to me.” 

“Well,his face is thinner, and his hair is still unkempt, his eyes are a brilliant green…” here, Harry blushed. “He has Lily’s nose, and James’s cheekbones…” 

“Are youpeople blind?” 

“Severus,what in Merlin’s name are you talking about?” asked Remus. “Harry looks normal!” 

“Fine words coming from someone who’s just met the child,” snarled Severus. “And don’t call me Severus, wolf.” 

“He’s a bit taller than he was at the beginning of the hols,” said Filius. “But that’s to be expected.” 

Finally, Madam Pomphrey broke in. “But that doesn’t account for the changing bone structure! Nor the sudden increase of four inches in height in the last hour!” 

“That was not what I was referring to, Madam, but that is correct as well,” said Severus grudgingly. “But I am referring to the Death Eater’s mask…on his face.” 

“I have a mask on my face?!?” 

“Severus, have you gone insane?” 

“My dear boy, are you all right?”

“Have the potion fumes finally created a vacuum in your brain?” 

“Severus– ”

They all clambered, until Severus finally shouted, “Enough.” 

They fell silent. Severus took an audible breath, and looked up. “Not a single one of you can see that – abomination on his face?”

Onlypuzzled faces met his gaze. “Potter. Take a look in the mirror, and tell me what you see.” 

“My face feels fine, thanks,” said Harry. 

“Humble the poor man, would you?” whispered Minerva. “He’s finally cracked…we shouldn’texcite him so.” 

Albuschuckled. “So, my dear boy, what do you see?” 

“I see my face. What did you expect?” grumbled Harry. “Wait, Professor, did you say you see a…Death Eater’s mask on my face?” 

Severus nodded dumbly. 

 “It wouldn’t look like this, would it?” Harry fumbled around in his pockets. “Huh, that’s strange. I can’t find it!” 

“Whatare you trying to find?” asked Lupin, casting concerned glances towards Albus. 

“This thing that appeared in my bedroom on my birthday. It looked like a Death Eater’s mask, but it was silver –” 

With each word, Severus’s face suddenly grew paler. 

“– and it had a lily etched on the inside –”  

Severus’sface grew even paler, if it were possible. As it was, he turned several shades greener, accentuated by the black robes he was wearing. 

“– so I didn’t think so. But it felt sort of…weird? Almost scary.” 

By thistime, Severus had slumped back into the bed he was currently occupied.   

“The poor man,” whispered Minerva snidely. “No wonder –” 

“It would do you well not to question my sanity in this state, Mother,” said Severus snarkily. “After all, you never know what I might do to you.” 

“Why, I never!” said Minerva indignantly. “Mother, indeed! I’ll have you know thatafter what you did to my daughter –” 

Albus put his hand on her shoulder. “Minerva,” he warned. 

Severus smirked. “So easily tempered and cowed. How appropriate for a Gryffindor.” 

“Severus.”

He scowled, and folded his arms. “Yes, Albus?” 

Albus chuckled. “My dear boy, you know what I mean. Now, tell us what has paled your complexion so. Oh, don’t look at me like that. You paled considerably while listening to Harry speak. Isn’t that right, Filius?” 

“My,yes,” Filius squeaked in agreement. “I haven’t seen him since that DADA class with that boggart –”

“You manipulative old men!” screamed Severus, then quickly regained composure. “Fine, I will tellyou.”

********

Sirius hummed to himself as he washed dishes. He had gotten the hang of it, finally. He must’ve broken at least five dishes per each stack…which meant he had broken at least fifty of them. Luckily, they were easily repaired, with magic, of course. Not that he let Aberforth know. That man was an absolute nut about no magic in the building. It was odd. Having gone through life pampered and spoiled, he had never done this type of menial work. But now…he found that hedidn’t exactly hate it. The very opposite, in fact. It was wonderful to let go of his mental abilities and just mechanically work. It certainly was building up his muscles. In no time, he would be back to normal – or as normal as he could be after Azkaban. 

He had been told by Aberforth that no knew of his escape yet, probably because of all the chaos and confusion caused by the sudden outburst of white magic there. Where had it come from? And on Harry’s birthday, no less. Surprisingly, he could still remember it. 

Sirius, James, Remus, and Peter were all waiting anxiously in the hallway outside the room where Lily was giving birth. James had been in there earlier, but after all his griping and threatening to faint, Lily had  tossed him out. She told him she would be fine with her mother. 

James had almost scoffed, until he saw the look on his former Professor’s face. Granted, she had been his favourite Professor, but if you fell out of favour with her…James shivered. 

“Hey, Prongs, you all right there?” asked Sirius.“You’re not going to faint on us, mate, are you?” 

“Maybe you should sit down,” said an anxious Remus.“You’re going to wear a hole in the floor with all your pacing.” 

“I should be in there with her,” said James. “She needs me.” 

He stood still a moment, and moved as if to barge into the room. Immediately, the other three lunged towards him and held him back. 

“Prongs!” Remus gasped. “You shouldn’t go in.” 

“Why the hell not? That’s my baby and my wife –”

“Who kicked you out, remember?” 

“And your mother-in-law?” 

“Oh, fine,” grumbled James, plopping down on aseat. “It’s not like I can’t handle it…” 

“No, you can’t,” said Sirius. “And it’s final, so shut up.” 

James made a face at him and folded his arms. Sirius smirked. Well, that had been easier than he thought it’d be. Of course, maybe the fact that he had almost fainted in there before had deterred him. After all, who wants to look like a fool twice?

They waited there for fifteen minutes, which quickly turned into an hour. Finally, at 4:16pm, Harry James Potter was born. Or well, James was let in at 4:16pm, because that was when they first heard the baby wail. He had his suspicions… 

Never mind. The boy looked like James, to be sure. But he definitely had Lily’s eyes – the most brilliant shade of emerald green Sirius had ever seen. One look at the tousled hair, and Merlin, those eyes! –he was in love with the child already. Of course, he was beyond exhilarated when James and Lily asked him to be godfather. Peter and Remus were dubbed the back-ups, of course. And one of Lily’s other friends – Alice Longbottom – was named godmother. 

Siriuswas jolted back to the present when he felt a large hand clasp on to his shoulder. He jumped, and spun around. 

“Relax, child, it’s just me,” said Aberforth. “What’s got you thinking so hard you can’t even hear me walk up to you?” 

“I was thinking of the day Harry was born,” said Sirius wistfully. “I’ve missed so much of his childhood…” 

“You could always make up for it, you know,” said Aberforth. “He’s just up the hill.” 

“But…how? I’ll be recognized,” said Sirius. “And didn’t you say Remus was in there? He’ll recognize me for sure!” 

“Hmmm…”Aberforth rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “That child has such wonderful luck really. His parents die, his godmother goes insane, his godfather sent to prison…” 

“Make me feel guilty!” snarled Sirius. “It’s not like I did it on purpose. I wanted to stay by that child.  But that damn rat –” 

“Relax, Sirius,”said Aberforth soothingly. “Well, we’ll just have to think about it. Maybe Harry will come down here? I’ll ask Filius.”

“ProfessorFlitwick? He’s still there?” asked Sirius. “He’s so old –”

AtAberforth’s pointed look, he quickly remedied his statement. “I mean, I expected Professor McGonagall and Dumbledore – sorry, your brother – to stay at Hogwarts forever. But Professor Flitwick? He’s like one of those who’s meant to be more?” Sirius sighed, when he saw Aberforth’s face. “Never mind. Don’t listen to me when I start running off my mouth like that.” 

Aberforth laughed. “Like I was ever meant to run an inn.” 

“Exactly!” Sirius exclaimed, then turned a bright shade of red, and he quickly covered his mouth. “Pretend you didn’t hear that.” 

“Ah, my dear boy,” sighed Aberforth. “I haven’t laughed so hard since the last time you were here.”

********

“It was my brother’s mask.”

At the shocked faces in front of him, Severus quickly corrected his statement. “My adopted brother.” 

“Regulus Black. His family, as you know, died in a catastrophic fire at his home. His brother,” Here, Severus sneered. “Had denied him. Other families would have willingly taken him in, but at school, Regulus and I were close. During the summers, he would always spend time at my home, or I at his. Regardless, we were close enough relation to take him in, and we did so.” 

Severus closed his eyes. “Our families were of the Dark. When I was seventeen, I was told I was to receive the mark, but I put it off, saying that Reg and I wouldlike to have them together. The Dark Lord honoured our decision, and I was given two years of respite. I had no particular love for him, but my father,”he spat. “Decided that it would be best that I did.” 

He let out a ragged gasp. “Two days after Regulus and I received the Dark Mark, Regulus was killed in an Auror raid. I could no longer hide the fact that Lily was Muggle-born,” he looked at Minerva, and she paled. “And so I divorced her. Yes, it was brutal,” He answered Minerva’s unasked question. “I had to, or she would never have left me. I casted her off like an old robe. Then…she ran away to James Potter.” 

Hepaused, and there was an audible silence. Taking a breath, he continued. "She must have thought that…the mask was a huge joke. But…I gave her the mask as areminder to myself that…I didn’t want her to die the same way my brother had.The lily…I etched it on. There is a similar one on my own…” 

He trailed off, and there was silence in the room. Suddenly, they were all jolted out of their musings by Severus’s voice, which had picked up again. “But why would she give you the mask?”

He stared hard at Harry, then lunged towards him. “Let me see the mask.” 

“You’re freaking crazy!” shouted Harry. “I don’t have a freaking mask on, and you’re out of your mind! My mum would’ve never married you!” 

“No one told you, did they?” chuckled Severus bitterly. “No one told you the great James Potter was second pickings to me, did they? Your mother loved me first,and if that mask is the one I think it is, then she loved me to the end.” 

“Your mother never loved your father,” he continued on, ever the sadist. “Then…how is it that you came to be?” 

“Enough, Severus,” commanded Albus. “You’ve hurt the boy enough.” 

By now, Poppy had Harry in her arms, and there were five pairs of accusing eyes at him.Severus threw up his hands in mock surrender. “You don’t want to hear the truth? Then fine.”

He stormed out of the Infirmary, his cloak billowing as he did so. 

“He’s wrong!” sobbed Harry. “My mum loved my da!” 

ProfessorMcGonagall walked up to him. “She was very happy with James, it’s true. I would know.” 

Harrylooked at her with his big green eyes. “How?” 

Minerva looked at Albus questioningly. Albus nodded. Since secrets were coming to light, they might as well reveal them all – or the beginnings of them, anyways.“Because…my dear child, I was Lily’s mother.” 

Harryblinked at her, and then it hit him.

“Th-that means you’re my grandmother!” whispered Harry, and then sobbed out, almost incoherently, “So why did I have to stay with the Dursleys? You’re my blood, aren’t you? Didn’t you want me?” 

The, he muttered something intelligible, but it didn’t seem anyone heard.  

“I’m sorry, Harry, I am. I wanted you so badly…” By this time, most eyes in theroom were wet, and there were visible tears running down Minerva’s face. “But, you weren’t my blood. See, I adopted Lily. If I had known about the Dursleys–!” 

“Y-you really wanted me?” stuttered Harry, hampered by his sobs. “Th-then why didn’t you tell me? When I was at school…you could have told me!”  

“And then have you disappointed when you couldn’t stay with me?” Minerva said gently. “I knew you didn’t like it there, but…I never knew it was that bad.”

“Well, now you do!” Harry buried his face in Poppy’s arms, and wailed. A heart-breaking cry, it shattered the hearts of all those who heard him, including one Severus Snape, who had to re-gain his stability on the stairs leading to his rooms. He shook it off, dismissing it as some prank. But inside, there was a beginning of a small crack in the stone wall blocking off his heart. 

Severus nursed a bottle of alcohol in his hands as he sat in his stiff, hard chair in his quarters, his eyes staring blankly at the bare wall in front of him. He swallowed viciously, letting the alcohol burn his throat. He welcomed the pain, and the numbing effect the alcohol had on his mind. He had no wish to dwell upon the past, nor the present. Like his eyes, Severus Snape had become a blank, emotionless, hollow man. 

He was destined for pain, it seemed. His pureblooded parents who had him for the sake of creating an heir, trying to instill pureblooded nonsense in him through any means possible. The love of his life, taken away from him, only to marry his greatest rival. His brother and his life tragically cut short. The loss of his future, ruined by a megalomaniac and a fool. And yet, he continued on. There was no attempt to excuse or divert the pain; he welcomed it. Rather, the new pain that was continually inflicted upon him wiped out the pain of the past. It occupied him...until times like now, when he nothing else to do, but to think. 

To his knowledge, he never did anything but sleep when he was drunk. His mind, of course, never did see what his heart would do. A part of him realized that this broken man would not last, no, not under these circumstances. So when his cold, unfeeling, logical mind was shut down, another part of his body - the section he forever thought lost, his heart - would come out. He would never remember this when he woke up. 

Tears ran down his cheeks. Tears of sorrow, of anger, of frustration, and of bitterness. Tears that proclaimed the human aspect of Severus Snape, that showed he hadn't totally been converted to stone. Tears, that had they been seen by anyone else, would've shown the desperation and brokenness within this man who stood stoically among others. 

He slumped back in his chair, and finally let the darkness overtake him. The morning would come soon enough.

********

Harry lay on the bed, his newfound-grandmother beside him, watching over him. It was funny; at school, she was prim and proper. Right now, she was acting like what he thought a typical grandmother would act like: warm, smiley, and a bit...fussy, though he would never tell her that. She would probably be insulted. 

He had been assaulted with numerous accounts of his parents. Not that he minded, of course. He relished it, actually, since no one had ever really bothered. He learned of James' mischief - in detail- and been admonished not to follow in his footsteps. He learned about his mother's talent in Charms and Potions, and how she liked to read for fun. She sounded a lot like Hermione. Maybe if his mum had lived, then he'd be a bookworm too. Or maybe he'd be wild and crazy like his dad. Or maybe even both, if that was possible. 

"Professor..." 

"Now, Harry, what have I told you about calling me that during the holidays?" asked Minerva teasingly. How she had longed to do this for ages! 

"Sorry, Prof- Gran," said Harry contritely, ducking his head. "How come my mum liked Snape?" 

"They grew up together," said Minerva. "And Harry, remember, it's Professor Snape. You should respect him...even if you don't like him."

"Yes, Gran," said Harry. "So how come?" 

"Well..." said Minerva slowly. "Remember how you met Mr. Weasley?" 

"Uhh...Ron?" At his Gran's nod, he said, "Yeah, on the Hogwart's Express!" 

"Lily met Severus there. She didn't have any friends, obviously, being a Muggleborn, and - I think - Severus was attracted to her, probably for curiosity's sake, since he had never seen a Muggleborn before, being raised by pureblooded fanatics." 

"Snape is pureblood?" asked Harry. "Well, that explains a lot." 

"Professor Snape," reminded Minerva. "Anyways, Severus didn't really have any friends, except Sirius Black. But when he went to Gryffindor..." 

"Who's Sirius Black, Gran?" asked Harry. "Is he Professor Snape's friend's brother?" 

"Yes, Harry," said Minerva hurriedly, not wanting to bring him up right now. "But it doesn't really matter." 

"But why?" 

"You'll know soon enough, Harry," said Minerva severely, her "professor" demeanor coming out. "Anyways, Lily and Severus became best friends, though they were in different Houses. I think they would study together every night, and they had most classes anyways, since Albus has this notion that Gryffindors and Slytherins will get along better if they spend more time with each other." 

"Well, that's stupid!" said Harry incredulously. "If anything, it makes us hate them more!" 

"You can't fault him for trying to create unity between the Houses," said Minerva. "But I agree." 

Harry laughed. "So can you tell me any stories about my mum and Professor Snape?" 

"Maybe you should ask Severus yourself," said Minerva gently. "After all, it's not my tale to tell." 

"But he hates me!" exclaimed Harry. "Why would he want to tell me, of all people? He'll just say I'm trying to shove it in his face." 

Minerva laughed. "Well, maybe I could tell you one story..."

"Please?" Harry said, sitting up. "Pretty please?" 

"All right," said Minerva, chuckling. "This happened on a Sunday afternoon in September, I think... 

Severus sat beneath a tree, reading, his long hair tied back. It was the day after the O.W.L's, and the Gryffindors had spent the entire night partying, to Severus's gratitude. That meant Potter and his little gang couldn't hurt him today...or Lily for that matter, who was coming towards him at the moment. 

"Lily," said Severus. "How were the exams?" 

"Sev, really? Is that all that's in your mind?" teased Lily. "How about...Lily, how are you today, instead, Sev?" 

Severus blushed. "Sorry Lils, I didn't mean to be rude." 

"I'm just teasing, you blob," said Lily, smacking him over the head. "Exams were okay, though I'm pretty sure I didn't answer the part with the Draught of Living Death correctly. I said you had to stir five times counterclockwise, and one each in between clockwise. Was I right?" 

"Hmm..." smirked Severus, dragging out his answer. "What do you think?" 

"You big bully!" said Lily, swatting him again. "So I was right." 

"I didn't say you were right, did I?" 

"So...I wasn't right?" 

Severus laughed. "Of course you were right. What an idiot." 

"You're the idiot, Severus Talfryn Snape! Hmph," said Lily. "See if I ever talk to you again."

She turned her back on him. "I'm sorry, Lils," said Severus contritely. "But you're just so fun to tease." 

"I forgive you," said Lily, and then promptly kissed his cheek. "Now, Sev, what do you want to do? Don't be such an old man. C'mon, let's go for a walk!"

"But this book is so interesting!" argued Severus half-heartedly. 

"Read it later, Sev," said Lily. "We only have a couple days until we have to go home." 

"And then you won't see me until we start school again," said Severus. 

"Exactly," said Lily. "So are we going for a walk or not?" 

"I'm coming, I'm coming," said Severus. "Women and their impatience..."

"What did you say?" Lily put her hands on her hips. "You don't want to go for a walk? Fine." 

"I-I was just joking, Lily!" 

She turned back and smiled. "I know, Sev, I know." 

They began to walk towards the lake, and talking. Severus looked at Lily, almost nervously. "Lily..." 

"Yes, Severus?" she asked, oblivious, skipping ahead. 

"What if I told you..." 

"What is it, Severus?" asked Lily, who had turned around, concerned. "Is something wrong?" 

"Someone'sapproachedmeforanApprenticeship," mumbled Severus. 

"What?" exclaimed Lily. 

"Someone's approached me for an Apprenticeship for Potions," said Severus, enunciating this time. 

"I know, I heard you," said Lily. "It was a rhetorical question. But seriously, who asked you? And so quickly, too! Don't you get asked after your N.E.W.T's? You just finished the Potions O.W.L's three days ago!" 

"One of my examiners," said Severus quietly. "Alessandro Magnus." 

"You mean, the Alessandro Magnus?" asked Lily incredulously. "The one who's been developing all those new Healing potions, like Bone Re-growth? He hasn't been seen in years! Are you sure?" 

"Apparently, old Slughorn put in a word for me," said Severus. "But I haven't accepted yet." 

"Why haven't you?" asked Lily. "It's a chance of a lifetime!"

"Well...if I do it, I'm not coming back to Hogwarts," said Severus. "And as much as I'll like leaving those arrogant toerags behind..." 

He left the rest of the phrase unsaid, though Lily understood what he meant. "Can't you do both?" 

"I don't think so, Lily," said Severus.

 "Well, don't stay because of me, Severus," said Lily softly. "I don't want you to regret it."

"Lily..." Severus trailed away. "Lily, I don't want to leave you." 

"It's not like we won't see each other, right?" asked Lily, her voice breaking. "You'll come back and visit, right?" 

"I don't know, Lily." 

She looked at him, her eyes glistening. "Maybe...maybe we should go talk to Dumbledore. He can work things out for you, can't he?"

"I don't know, Lily..." said Severus doubtfully. "He's never really listened to me. Remember what happened with...that thing?" 

"That thing..." hissed Lily. "Has a name."

"Sorry, Lils," said Severus. "Lupin, then."

"Well," said Lily. "It can't hurt to try Dumbledore. After all, you're probably the youngest person ever to be approached for an Apprenticeship...towards a Mastery in Potions, no less. And if you start now...you'll be able to get yours before you're even twenty! You'll be the youngest Potions Master in centuries!" 

"But Lily..."

"Come on! I'm pretty sure Dumbledore will agree," said Lily excitedly, starting to walk back towards the castle. Severus soon matched her pace, and they resolutely set out for the Headmaster's office. 

Lily knocked on the door. 

"Severus, Lily, please come in," a gentle voice stated. Dumbledore stood as the two of them entered the office. "What can I do for you today?" 

"Umm, sir, I'm not sure if you know, but Severus," Lily gestured, "has been approached by Alessandro Magnus for an Apprenticeship towards a Potions Mastery." 

"Oh, indeed?" asked Albus, his eyes twinkling. "Why, congratulations, Severus. I hadn't heard! Have you accepted?" 

"I was -" 

"Severus wants to know if he can stay at Hogwarts and do his Apprenticeship at the same time," interrupted Lily. "Can he, sir, can he?" 

Albus chuckled. "I will certainly ask Master Magnus. If he agrees, you may, Severus. Of course, this has never happened in all of Hogwarts' time." 

"Thank you, sir!" gushed Lily. "You won't regret it. I'll make sure Severus works extra hard and- and -" 

"Thank you, Headmaster," said Severus formally. 

"You're quite welcome, my dear boy," said Albus. "And congratulations. Shall I see you at the Feast?"

"Yes, sir," the two chorused, and then excused themselves.

"See, Severus?" said Lily triumphantly. "I told you!"

"Well, Master Magnus hasn't said yes yet," said Severus. "And I still have to reply to him." 

"So what're you waiting for?" asked Lily. "C'mon! Let's go to the Library and write it together." 

They sat down in the Library, and composed a letter. Within hours, a reply came back. 

      Dear Mr. Snape, 

I am delighted that you have chosen to accept my proposition. I have discussed with your Headmaster about your condition, and I find it acceptable. As I have stated before, I have never seen the likes of your talent in decades! I look forward to working with you, Apprentice. I shall be meeting with you and your Headmaster tomorrow afternoon at three. I look forward to discussing your future.

                                Sincerely,

                           Alessandro Magnus

                      Master, Potions and Alchemy

"See?" said Lily. "I told you." 

"I've heard that so many times today, Lils," said Severus, groaning. "Don't you know when not to gloat?" 

"Mr. I'll-never-ever-see-you-again," teased Lily. "And there you were, making me upset and everything." 

"You...really were upset?" asked Severus. 

"Yeah, what do you think?" asked Lily. "You think I want to never ever see my best friend ever again?" 

"Well, no," said Severus, then, on an impulse, added, "Lily, will you go out with me?" 

"As if I could ever - what?!?" said Lily, who had rambled on before her brain could catch up with her ears. 

"Never mind," blushed Severus. "You don't have to, if you don't want to." 

"Of course I do!" Lily cried as she flung her arms around Severus. "You big oaf. Of course I -" 

Severus interrupted her midway through her sentence by kissing her full out on her lips. When they pulled apart, they were both blushing. They stared at each other for a moment, mesmerized by the other, seeing each other in a new light. Finally, Lily settled on leaning against Severus, her head on his shoulders, and they sat there, until the call for dinner arrived. 

"So that's how Lily and Severus got together," said Minerva matter-of-factedly. "I thought it was the sweetest thing when my daughter told me."

"Yuck, Gran," said Harry, making a face. "So...did mum still love Professor Snape after she married dad?" 

"I believe so," said Minerva quietly. "But...when James came courting, she didn't say no. It is strange, now that I think about it."

"Oh, well," said Harry. "At least I was born, right?"

Minerva wrapped Harry in a hug. "Of course, Harry."

"Gran, I'm feeling a bit tired... 

"Oh, you should go to sleep then," said Minerva, and tucked the covers over him. "I'll wake you up for dinner, all right?" 

"Okay, Gran," said Harry sleepily. "G'night..." 

"Good night, Harry, sweet dreams," said Minerva, gently dimming the lights. After taking one last look, she walked out of the room. 

Harry soon fell asleep, exhausted by the day. In the dark room, lights swirled around him, in different colours. He slipped further and further into the depths, almost into a deep coma-like trance. He was oblivious to his body changing, stretching several inches in addition to the several inches he had gained earlier. From 4'11" he became 5'4", and then 5'8". The features of his face also changed, his hair becoming longer, darker, and wavier. His body re-proportioned itself, from the frame of one similar to James Potter's, to a more broad-shouldered, leaner frame. The unseen mask on his face seemed to be directing these changes, and as soon as they were finished, it fell off his face, visible once again.

********

Severus Snape awoke with a terrible headache. He groaned. Why couldn't he ever remember the terrible consequences of over-drinking? Luckily, he had a hangover remedy on hand...it wasn't the first time he had woken up after being stone drunk. He stood unsteadily on his feet, and lurched towards the shelf where all his potions were kept. Fumbling, he knocked over several vials (thankfully covered and sealed) before he round it. When he found it, he poured it down his throat, only blanching slightly at the taste. The effect was immediate; the headache was gone, and he was once again in full control of his facilities. 

He frowned, remembering what compelled him to drink in the first place. The mask! Maybe he could go pry it off the brat's face and see if it really was Regulus's. He set off resolutely out the door, before he remembered he could floo directly to the Infirmary. Cursing, he muttered something about how drinking could turn oneself into a dunderhead. He tossed the floo powder into the fireplace, and called out, "Hogwarts' Infirmary!" 

He landed gracefully, and walked towards the room where Potter currently resided. He quietly opened the door, to avoid alerting anyone to his presence. Once he was inside, he carefully walked towards the bed Potter occupied. He frowned. That was odd. Just two hours ago, the boy's legs barely met the halfway mark. Now they were close to the very end of the bed. He crept closer, and received a very big shock. That wasn't Potter! He quickly bound the figure - who didn't awake - and weighted his options. Should he wake up the person on the bed, or inform the Headmaster?

No, it was better to call the Headmaster. If that truly was Potter...well, he couldn't and wouldn't be accused of being hysterical again. Purposefully, he walked towards the floo. "Headmaster?" 

"Ah, my boy," said Albus. "Is everything all right?" 

"I believe you should come down to the Infirmary right away," said Severus. "And bring Professor McGonagall with you. There is something you should see." 

"Is something wrong with Harry?" asked Albus, sitting upright quickly, and almost spilling his tea. 

"Something related, yes," said Severus carefully. 

"We're coming through," came the terse reply. Within seconds, both Professors were in the Infirmary. "Severus, what's wrong?" 

"See for yourself," said Severus, and dramatically flung the door open. "Now, Minerva, am I in hysterics?" 

"Who is that?" came the shocked reply. "Harry was perfectly all right when I left him!" 

"I suggest we wake him up," said Albus. "you can undo the bindings, Severus. They aren't necessary." 

"As you wish, Headmaster," said Severus. "Finite Incantem." 

The ropes came off the bed, untying the figure upon it. He didn't awake. Albus called out, "Ennervate!" 

"Headmaster? Gran?" came the voice on the bed. "Is it time for dinner?" 

"It is him, Albus," whispered Minerva. 

"Why are you whispering, Gran?" asked Harry. "And why are you looking at me so strangely?" 

"Harry," said Albus. "What did I answer to your question that night in front of the Mirror of Erised?" 

"Socks, Professor," said Harry. "But why are you asking me?" 

Minerva summoned a mirror. "Because, Harry...your appearance has changed." 

Harry took the mirror tentatively, and then promptly dropped it after taking a glance. Luckily, it didn't break. "A-are you sure that's me?"

He fingered his face, and then his eyes bulged out when he got out of bed, seeing his newfound height. "I've changed? Why?!?" 

"Minerva," said Albus thoughtfully. "Doesn't Harry remind you of someone?"

"Why, yes, Albus," exclaimed Minerva. "He does...but I can't quite place my finger on it." 

Then both pairs of eyes gravitated towards Severus. Albus quickly asked, "Severus, do you mind standing beside Harry?" 

"Beside the brat?" asked Severus incredulously. "Yes, I mind."

"It's not like I want you to," muttered Harry. 

"Manners, young man!" scolded Minerva. 

"Sorry, Gran," said Harry, almost tempted to roll his eyes. Instead, he stiffened, and his face became uncharacteristically blank. 

"Severus, would you?" 

Severus's eyebrows contorted, and only his stiff shoulders showed his indignation, not unlike Harry's own expression.

Albus chuckled. "Oh, Merlin!" 

Minerva swatted him, frowning. "I don't see what you're laughing about, Albus. It's not funny." 

"Oh, but don't you see the irony?" 

"No. What I see is the fact that my own daughter neglected to tell me -" 

"What's wrong?" 

"What precisely is the matter with the two of you?" said two voices, suspiciously alike at the same time. They looked at each other, and frowned, giving Albus more cause to indulge in the laughing fit he was currently in.

"Honestly, men can be so dense," muttered Minerva. "Severus, look at Harry, and tell me you honestly do not see any of your features on his face." 

"My features? What in Merlin's name do you mean?" asked Severus, perplexed. Then he did a double-take when he did. Sneering, he stated, "Potter, what prank are you pulling? You think it's funny to impersonate me?" 

"If I wanted to make fun of you, I'd make sure the nose was right!" said Harry heatedly. "And it's not like I wanted to look like this! I just woke up and -" 

"Enough of your excuses, Potter," said Severus spitefully. "Just like your father -" 

"Who would be you," said Albus, his eyes twinkling madly. "That's Harry, in the flesh, Severus. No charms, no transfigurations, no potions." 

"And the possibility that he is a metamorphagus?" asked Severus weakly, sinking onto the bed. 

"None, Severus," said Albus firmly, who by this time, had to support Minerva, who was on the verge of fainting herself.

"Oh, Merlin," groaned Severus, his hands rising to his head. Along the way, his hand accidentally touched the mask. A wispy substance came out of it, and all four of them blacked out.

*******

  "Mother? Professor Dumbledore? What are you doing here?" a strangely familiar voice (to the elder three) asked. All four turned around, and gasped. There was Lily, in the flesh! 

 "Mother? Professor Dumbledore? What are you doing here?" a strangely familiar voice (to the elder three) asked. All four turned around, and gasped. There was Lily, in the flesh! 

Or so they thought. Lily walked towards them, almost ethereally. Tears ran down her cheeks, as she looked upon old friends she thought she would never see again. By the time she was less than a metre away, she lost all semblance of composure, and began running towards her mother, whose face was no less wet. 

"Mother!" she cried, flinging herself into the open embrace Minerva held out. 

"Lily..." Minerva held her daughter tightly, and the two of them stood there, while Albus and Harry looked on, smiling. Severus, on the other hand, stood awkwardly, though his face betrayed no emotions. 

Lily turned to Harry next, and pulled him into a brief hug. "Oh, Harry." 

She stood there, appraising him. All Harry wanted was a longer hug, to be held longer by the person who gave birth to him...but why was she staring so at him? Lily glanced questioningly at Albus and Minerva, and quietly asked, "What happened?" 

"We were hoping you could tell us, Lily," said Albus. "Harry...looked like James Potter just two hours ago." 

Lily turned her eyes to Severus. "Well, what did you do?!?" 

"Ms. Evans -" 

"It's Mrs. Potter, Mr. Snape," hissed Lily. "What did you do to my son?" 

Severus blanched, but within seconds, his mask was back up. 

"Why, nothing, Mrs. Potter," Severus said, his face as blank as before. "But apparently, he is my son, which you obviously neglected to tell me." 

"You threw me away," said Lily venomously. "You didn't even want us." 

"Oh?" Severus's eyebrow rose, mockingly. 

"You didn't even say goodbye. All you did was kick me out of the house and hand me the papers for divorce." Tears threatened to run down her face again, and her voice broke. "You didn't even tell me why?!?" 

"It was for your own good." 

"And our family's?!?" 

"You ran to Potter, didn't you? There, happy family, all neat and tidy," scorned Severus. "Oh, but wait, you had to go and die on our son, didn't you. So I am not the only one guilty of neglecting to care for our so-called "family", am I?" 

"I didn't die," mumbled Lily. 

"Oh, even worse," sneered Severus, and then froze. "W-What?" 

********

Sirius was upstairs in his room, perusing the Daily Prophet, when, all of a sudden, he heard a familiar voice downstairs in the bar. Remus? He started to sprint down the hall, when, all of a sudden, he realized what kind of a reception he might receive downstairs, and mentally berated himself. Stupid Padfoot. Think before you leap, or have you forgotten that already?   

Sighing, he went back into his room, and pried off a loose floorboard. In his last stay here, he had been bored to tears, so he had taken to eavesdropping on the tenants and customers in the bar. Highly amusing at the time, he realized how important this could be in aiding his search for truth and justice. 

Voices wafted upwards, and Sirius could hear everything. Or well, most of it anyways. He transformed, in order to take advantage of his dog form's better hearing. 

"- your butterbeer," said Aberforth gruffly. "So what're you doing down here, Remus? Thought you were out of town this summer." 

"Dumbledore asked me to come back and teach," said Remus, his voice almost apologetic. How typical! "I just came back to see what old Hogwarts is like now." 

"Hogwarts hasn't changed since I went there, lad," said Aberforth. "And that was a long time ago." 

"You're right about that," said Remus ruefully. "That stain in the Great Hall where Sir -" 

Remus trailed off, and Sirius could just imagine him blushing. He strained his ears further to catch the conversation. 

"Surely, lad, you know the boy's innocent?" asked Aberforth. "Makes no sense for him to have killed off the Potters like that." 

"It made no sense for him to kill thirteen Muggles and Peter in public, either," argued Remus. "And there were witnesses!" 

"Eyewitness accounts generally tend to only see the surface, lad," said Aberforth gently. "They can always be manipulated." 

"What do you mean?" Remus's voice sounded almost...curious.  

"Well, if you believe you saw something, then you're more likely to state it as the truth, yeah?" asked Aberforth. "And if everyone else says the same thing, then wouldn't you?" 

"I suppose," said Remus doubtfully. 

"To top that, without a trial, none of the witnesses were thoroughly questioned," said Aberforth. "And no one knows whether Sirius did it because they never bothered to ask! And if you ask me, they were downright stupid for breaking his wand before checking for spells first." 

"You really think he's innocent?" asked Remus incredulously. 

"Sure as the sun will rise tomorrow, lad," said Aberforth. "You better finish that butterbeer before it gets warm." 

"Y-yeah..." said Remus. "I have a lot to think about. And ask Dumbledore about." 

"You do that," said Aberforth firmly, and he set about placing the glasses on the shelves. 

Sirius transformed and sat back, stunned. He knew that most people thought he was guilty; he just didn't think Remus and Dumbledore did.  Well, he knew...it just didn't hit him until now. Thank God he had Aberforth. Without him, he truly didn't have a single soul left to vouch for him in the world. 

A part of him wanted to confront Remus, and show him his memories. But he dismissed the possibility almost immediately. No, better to have Remus realize on his own what mistakes he had made. If forced upon him, Remus was probably more apt to turn tail and run. Sirius would have to wait.  He knew, though the wait was torturous, that it was better to think things through. That much he had learned from Azkaban. 

It wasn't fair at all. What had he done to Fate for her to treat him so? Or perhaps it was Fortune's Wheel: no matter how hard you tried, you were bound to have bad luck. Or maybe his life was a mishmash of a bad joke. Sirius sighed, and got up. He flung himself on the bed, and gazed unseeingly at the ceiling. The cracks he and his friends had made back in their seventh year after graduation were still there. The largest one had been created by James, though using the word "created" gave him far too much credit. He had accidentally flung one of the motorcycle's parts, and it had gashed the ceiling. Thankfully, Sirius had caught the part (it had cost him a fortune, for Merlin's sake), but the four of them hadn't been so lucky. Aberforth had been furious and kicked them all out. 

He heard footsteps then, and then a knock on his door. "Come in!" 

"You all right, lad?" asked Aberforth. "I know you heard -" 

"Yeah," said Sirius grimly. "Remus. I-I knew things were this bad, but I didn't really know, you know?" 

"Truth is sometimes a hard thing, laddie boy," said Aberforth. "But Remus is one of the better ones. There have been some who have called for your death." 

Sirius shuddered. "They would do that to a man who was denied basic human rights?" 

"You're stuck in the Muggle world, lad," said Aberforth gently. "With Cornelius Fudge in power, the Wizarding world will never rise to its full potential." 

"I bet you elected him in," said Sirius bitterly. "Why would people do that? Why elect someone so obviously incompetent and so utterly stupid?" 

"Hell, no!" laughed Aberforth. "Vote for Fudge? I voted for...hmmm, who did I vote for?" 

"Amazing," said Sirius sarcastically. "You could've voted for Fudge and not even known it." 

"I think I voted for myself, actually," said Aberforth. "No use in wasting a good vote."

"No offense, Aberforth," said Sirius, trying to hold back his laughter. "But you'd make a terrible Minister of Magic." 

"Better than the pompous idiot who's in power right now," said Aberforth, who was trying to hold back a grin himself. "But I've got you all cheered up again." 

"You could've just asked me to smile or something," said Sirius, a bit put out. "So when's Remus coming back?" 

"Probably when he wants another butterbeer," said Aberforth. "Lad, go to work. There's no use in moping about things that haven't come to pass yet. You have a couple more dishes to wash." 

"Yes, sir!" said Sirius incorrigibly, and bounded out the door. However, just outside the door, he paused. "Aberforth, have they announced my escape yet?"

Aberforth looked at him, surprised. "By Merlin, you're right! No, they haven't, laddie. That's odd. Oh well, you stand to lose nothing if they don't announce the escape." 

"It doesn't matter," Sirius shrugged, and continued down the stairs. It really didn't. If they never announced it, he could go free as he pleased. He had to think about getting a disguise though; overuse of caution was never a bad thing, especially so close to a place where his old friend resided.

********

The shadow of the former Dark Lord flitted among the more unseemly areas of London. His presence lent an air of malevolence, leaving even the most evil of men shuddering and trembling. Having his body, or rather, Quirrel's body, destroyed by the Boy-Who-Lived, he now knew his fatal weakness: the boy himself. If he was to live, he would have to destroy the boy. It was no longer a question of pride; no, for self-preservation, he had to die. 

He learned one other lesson: it was impossible to co-exist with another person. Therefore, he had to find a person with no mind or soul - literally. That was nigh on impossible, unless the Inferi were counted, and he had no desire to occupy an Inferi. There were ways on destroying a person's soul and mind. If the soul was destroyed, the mind would no longer have an anchor, and would dissipate. Now he only had to find the right person: someone not too well known, but with characteristics not unlike his own. For two years he had haunted both Muggle London and Knockturn Alley. Finding nothing, he had moved abroad, back into Romania, where he had first joined with Quirrel. If a wizard was taken, his magic could be added on to his own. The downside of this was the fact that everyone knew everyone else in this world. If he took on a Muggle's body, there would be no additional magic, but his own. Somehow, this appealed to him. Later, when he had regained his rightful place as Lord of the Wizarding world, he would merely choose another body. 

His senses attracted to a Muggle who was walking quite confidently, despite the time of night. This was the man! Every night, he had walked out of a building, labelled Dr. Rose and Associates. In every way, he was perfect. A man of mid-forties, he looked like he was still in his prime. His eyes displayed his intelligence, and most importantly, he was good-looking. Perfect, indeed. For months, he had waited for Samhain, where his strength would be at its most. Tonight would be the night he would become flesh again. 

Silently, he entered the man's body, destroying the man's soul with the darkest spells known to man. The body of Dr. Rose crumpled, and he was officially no more. Where his soul had been, Voldemort's soul now took its place. His mind pushed out the remaining vestiges of Dr. Rose's mind. It was over. 

Voldemort silently picked himself up, and flexed his fingers, cracking them. He smiled. Tomorrow, he would be returning to London. 

********

"I'm not dead," said Lily, her eyes bright and glaring. 

"T-that's impossible!" said Harry. "If you weren't dead, then why was I stuck with the Dursleys'? Why didn't you come for me? What is this place then?" 

Minerva, Albus, and Severus were all shell-shocked. Not dead? Harry was right. It was impossible! 

"You refuse to come to terms with your own death?" sneered Severus, after he had recovered. "How pathetic." 

"I'm not dead, Mr. Snape," said Lily, her eyes gleaming, this time with passion. "If I was dead, you would see James with me, wouldn't you?" 

"Speak not of him!" spat Severus. "That low-level scum."

"Low-level scum or not," said Albus mildly. "I must admit, my dear Lily, your reasoning is correct. However, perhaps this is the afterlife and James has merely...become lost?" 

"No," said Lily firmly. "This is not the afterlife. I have met people I know here who are still alive. Sirius Black, Meredith Scott, Alice and Frank Longbottom. The list is endless. Mother, Headmaster, James, and you, Mr. Snape, are dead in this world. And...I have no son here."

"You don't mean to say, Ms. Evans," said Albus, his maddening eyes twinkling yet again. "That we are on a different Plane?" 

"I believe we are," said Lily simply. "Everything I've seen suggests so." 

"Different Plane?" sputtered Severus. "I'd sooner believe the Dark Lord was alive than this." 

Minerva glared at him. "Why must you edge on my daughter so?" 

"Yeah," chimed in Harry. "Leave Mum alone! It's not her fault she chose my da- James over a greasy git like you!" 

Severus turned on him. "I am your father," he sneered. "And you will treat me with respect." 

"You sure don't act like one," muttered Harry. "I'd rather have James as my father!" 

Severus stalked towards him, the anger evident in his eyes. As he moved on his son, Lily suddenly darted forward, in an effort to stop him. Severus couldn't stop his momentum, and collided into her. His lips, coincidentally, landed on hers. For a moment, he lost all sense of reality, and began to kiss her. Lily, in shock, did not pull away, but instead, pushed forward instead. 

The other three looked on in shock as Lily and Severus began to kiss passionately. Harry groaned. "Mum, you were supposed to yell at him, not snog him!" 

This pulled them out of their reverie, and they stumbled apart. Both faces bore deep blushes, but Severus was the first to regain his stance. He quickly walked away, his posture stiff, but the tremor in his hands betrayed him, but only those who knew him best, who at this moment, only comprised of one person - Albus. 

Minerva coughed. "Lily dear -" 

Albus placed his hand on Minerva's arm. "Not now, dear, she's in shock." 

Harry, on the other hand, had no such qualms. He rushed forward, and wrapped his arms around her. "Mum, are you all right?" 

"I'm fine, Harry," said Lily, and then momentarily re-gained her fire. Straightening, she asked, "Well, shall we head into the house? I'm sure you'll want to know how I came to be here." 

To the right of the clearing, past a little woods, they saw the vague outline of a small cottage. It was made of all timber and wood, and gave off a rustic air. Behind the cottage was a forest, with great majestic oaks towering above them. As they neared the house, they noticed a little brook off to the side, and an abundant garden in the front of the house. There was no hint of the suburbs Lily had grown up in; no, this was all country. 

A light breeze danced its way across the clearing. The newcomers smiled - even Severus - as they felt as if they no longer had a care in this world. When they arrived in the front of the cottage, Lily cleared her throat to gather her visitors' attention. "Please remove your shoes when you come in." 

They dutifully did so, and gazed around the cottage. It was beautifully coordinated, with a wooden tile floor and various paintings hung around the place. To the left was the kitchen. There was a small circular table, with four chairs around it. Surrounding it was the usual kitchen, with a sink and a stove. To the right was the living room. There was a couch on the far end of the room, and another couch located on the immediate right. In the middle was an ornate coffee table, an oak finish, by the looks of it.  On the other side of the room, was an upright piano, and right next to it was a wide window, with sunlight streaming in. 

They entered the living room, and sat down on the available seats. Severus found himself sitting with Albus, and Minerva with Harry. Lily walked in last, carrying tea. She set it down on the coffee table, and joined Minerva and Harry on their sofa, refusing to look at Severus. She concentrated on Albus instead. 

"Lily, can you tell us what happened that night?" asked Minerva, flinching a little bit from the pain of that night when she had found out her daughter had died, and her body missing.

Lily sighed. "I'm not really too sure, but this is what I've been able to piece together." 

She closed her eyes, and began, as if reciting. "I heard James fall. I knew...I knew, after what you said, sir," referring to Albus, "That he was after Harry. I was about to Disapparate when I felt a wand to my head."

Gasps of horror surrounded her, but she continued. "I knew it was You-Know-Who. He told me...I would live, if I would just give Harry to him. 

Severus's eyes closed in guilt and shame. To think the prophesized child was his! The others didn't even notice. They only had eyes for one person - Lily. "He ignored me, and aimed at Harry.  Avada Kedavra...and I jumped in front of him."

She opened her eyes, troubled. "This is the part where I'm not so sure what happened. I collided into something, and I saw the Death Eater's mask Severus gave me fall on my face. Next thing I know, I was here."

“If it weren’t for your meddling, we would undoubtedly still be in the land of the living,” sneered Severus at Lily. 

“It’s not my fault, you big-nosed git!” screamed Lily. The other three occupants of the tiny cabin winced. The two of them had been arguing for days. The only respite they had was when they went to bed…but even then, it wasn’t always guaranteed. Severus and Lily both tended to wake up in the middle of the night – well, anyone could predict what would happen. Albus was almost injured in the crossfire one night, and from then, Minerva had put her foot down. If they wanted to fight physically, then they would take it outside. So instead of having shoes flying around, everyone else had to listen to the spiteful words both parties were capable of speaking. 

“Lily, Severus, please,” said Minerva tiredly. “Arguing like this isn’t going to bring us back to Hogwarts. So let’s sit and have tea.” 

 “Yes, why don’t we sit for a little chat? After all, we haven’t seen you in twelve years,” said Albus. 

“It’s not my damn fault!” Lily stomped out of the cabin before her mother could chide her for language. 

“Well, Severus?” asked Albus. “So tell me about your exploits in the Potions field.” 

Severus stood up, as if not having heard his mentor. “I will be exploring the fauna and flora of this world to see if it coincides with our own. Good day.” Then he too, slammed the door shut. 

“Oh dear,” said Minerva. “Why can’t you ever keep your mouth shut, Albus? You’ve upset the children. And Harry, I never want to hear such language coming out of your mouth, or so help-me-God, I will make you eat soap.” 

“Ugh,” groaned Harry. “Eat soap? I’m not a freakin’ seven year old, Gran.” 

“Language, young man,” threatened Minerva. Albus’s eyes twinkled.

“Fine,” said Harry, barely able to stop the rolling of his eyes. “I’m just going to the kitchen to make us some cookies, all right?” 

“Watch your tone, young man,” said Minerva, but her tone was soft, almost teasing. “But that would be wonderful, Harry. Your mother has all the necessary ingredients, or she should, anyways. Lily loved – loves – baking.” 

“Mhm,” grunted Harry, struggling to pull the bag of flour out of the cupboard. “Woah!” 

He flew to the other side of the room when the stubborn flour gave way, spraying flour everywhere. “Whoops?” 

“It’s all right, Harry,” laughed Albus. “Scourgify!” 

“Oi!” exclaimed Harry. “Don’t clean me too, Professor!” 

“My apologies, my dear boy,” said Albus, whose body was now wracked with laughter. “But you’re all clean now, aren’t you?” 

Harry huffed, and began preparation for his baking. Now, where were the eggs? 

********

Remus was quite perplexed. Earlier, he could have sworn he had smelled the scent of one Sirius Orion Black, his former best friend. It obviously couldn’t have been, since Black was still in Azkaban, but there was no one else who smelled like that. Well, except Regulus Black, but he was long dead. He frowned. There was something awfully fishy…and he was going to get to the bottom of it. However, instead of turning back to the inn, he decided to head back up into Hogwarts, and see if he could get any planning done for the new year. Defense Against the Dark Arts wasn’t his best subject – he preferred Ancient Runes or Arithmancy – but it certainly wasn’t his worst. According to Flitwick, the teachers who had taught the subject weren’t exactly capable, and in the last two years, both of them had attacked Harry. 

Harry – oh, how he had failed Harry! Why hadn’t he checked on Harry before? Why had he been too caught up in his own problems to care for Harry? If only he hadn’t left for America…then perhaps Harry would have been properly cared for. Abruptly, he was brought out of his thoughts by a familiar scent in the wind. Straightening, he paused, and subtly sniffed. And then sniffed again. No, it couldn’t be Sirius. Blaming it on his lack of sleep, he trudged up towards the Infirmary to see Harry. 

He carefully opened the door, only to be greeted by a serious Flitwick and a hysterical Poppy. Assessing the situation, he asked calmly, “Filius, Madam Pomphrey, what’s wrong?” 

Madam Pomphrey’s answer was anything calm, and nearly sent Remus into hysterics himself. “Harry’s gone! And so is Albus, Minerva, and Severus!” 

“What?” exclaimed Remus. “Are you sure?” 

“We’ve looked everywhere, Remus,” said Filius. “There’s no sign of them…besides this mask. It sounds like the one Severus and Harry were describing earlier.” He shrugged. “But other than that, there’s no trace of them, though Poppy says the four of them were in the room together.” 

“No, I didn’t,” said Madam Pomphrey indignantly. “I said Minerva, Albus, and Severus were here to look at the strange boy on the bed – or so I got from their conversation in the room.” 

“So where’s Harry then???” asked Remus. “Did he leave?” 

“I didn’t see him leave,” said Madam Pomphrey. “Though God knows that means nothing, despite all my precautions. You teenage boys are always trying to sneak out of here.” 

Remus laughed. “I’m no longer a teenager, Madam, but yes, I can certainly see your point. So who was the kid on the bed?” 

“Sorry,” shrugged Madam Pomphrey. “I didn’t hear that part of the conversation. I was caught up with my brewing, so when the noises stopped, I just assumed they left.” She swooned, almost crushing Filius. Luckily, Remus caught her. “If I had just looked closer!” 

“They’re not in the castle,” said Filius solemnly. “We even had the ghosts help us search. We’ve turned this castle upside down, and there’s nary a sight of them.” 

Remus sighed. “I’m sure they’re all right. I mean, Dumbledore’s with them…so it shouldn’t be too bad. We should probably just wait here.” 

Filius sighed. “Let’s hope nothing bad comes to them. In the meantime, what are we going to do with this mask? We can’t very well just leave it here.” 

“Well, you think it has something to do with their disappearance, right?” asked Remus. “We might as well take a closer look at it then.” 

********

Lily flew after Severus. “You come back here, Severus Maximilian Snape!” 

Severus snarled as he turned around. “Or what, Potter? Leave! I have nothing to do with you!” 

“You-you bastard!” screamed Lily, taking out her wand. “Tarantallegra!” 

Severus moved inhumanly fast. Before Lily could take another breath, he had already protected himself from the incoming hex, and plucked the wand from her grasp. “A Dancing hex, Potter? Is this what you have been reduced to? You will have to place a greater effort –” 

Lily slapped him. “You selfish git!” 

Severus clutched his cheek in surprise, his face open. But within seconds, the harsh Potions Master was back. “Selfish, Potter?” 

“Selfish!” she screamed back at him. “You think you were the only one who suffered? What about me? I was the one who was dumped here, not you.” 

He looked at her with a supercilious expression on his face, an eyebrow raised. She continued, impervious. “And where were you? With my mother, our son! I haven’t seen him since he was one! While I was here all alone…” she trailed away. “So don’t you dare tell me you were the one who suffered, you damn arrogant…snake!” 

She turned away from him, unwilling to let him see her tears. Severus’s stilted, but quiet voice filled the air. “I have no son. I have no parents, and I have no love. There is nothing left here of the man you once called Severus Maximilian Snape. Now leave, before my conscience fades from existence. I will not be the one who causes you pain.” 

Lily laughed bitterly. “Cause me pain? You’ve already done that, Severus. Every night… I dream of you, hoping that one day, maybe one day, I’ll get to go back, to see you, to see our baby. Now that you’re here, all I see is the fact that I’ve been romanticizing the notion. There truly isn’t anything left between us, is there?” Without giving him time to respond, she continued. “Good day, Severus.” 

She strode back to the little cabin, tears streaming down her face. Right now, she needed her mother.

********

Harry yelped as the door banged behind him. Fortunately for him, it was his mother, and not his father. He shuddered. Snape, his father?

He frowned. That was funny. Why didn’t his mother greet him? He took a second look at her face. Oh, boy. His mother was crying. That sodding bastard! He’d made his mum cry! 

He flew out the door in a rage. Oh, Snape was going to get it, and he was going to get it real bad. “Snape!” 

The man in question turned around. “Professor Snape, or father, to you,” drawled Severus. “Cease the Gryffindorish hysterics. I have had enough of that already from your mother.”

“You made Mum cry, you bastard!” shouted Harry, and ran at full speed, punching Severus in the stomach. Severus didn’t even flinch. Instead, he reached down, and grabbed both of Harry’s wrists with one hand. His eyes glinted. “Potter –” 

“Let go of me, you overgrown bat!” Harry struggled to loosen the grip the older man had on his wrists. “I hate you! I hate you! Mum hates you too! You made her cry!” 

Severus looked down at him in amusement. “You have no tendency towards self-preservation, do you? Foolish.” 

“And so what? I’m proud I was sorted into Gryffindor.” Harry blanched. “Who would want to be a dirty snake like you?” 

“The so-called dirty snake is the one holding you right now, Potter,” drawled Severus. “I would be very careful with my words, if I were you.” 

“You couldn’t do anything to me even if you wanted to,” smirked Harry. “Gran and the Headmaster and Mum are only over there. Minute I yell, they’ll come get me.” 

“Indeed, Mr. Potter?” mused Severus. “Clearly, there is no resemblance between you or me…nor with your mother. Has your idiotic brain not absorbed the purpose of Notice-Me-Not and the Silencing Charms?” Severus gave a quick wave of his hand. “Screech as much as you like. No one will come to your rescue.” 

“Y-you’re lying!” shouted Harry, his face rapidly losing colour. “Help! Help!” 

Severus smirked at the feeble effort. “Pitiful, Potter. Now, obey me, and no harm will come to you. Am I clear?” 

Harry looked down, sullen. “Yeah.” 

“Enunciate, Potter! I will not have a dunderhead for a son!” stated Severus. 

“Yes,” said Harry. 

“Yes…?” 

“Yes, sir,” said Harry, and his bright green eyes turned up to Severus, accusing. “Now let me go!” 

“I will be treated with respect, Potter,” said Severus, his coal-black eyes burning. “Whether you think I deserve it or not. And I will be treated with respect, or you will have the pleasure of feeling my hand against your backside.” 

“You wouldn’t!” 

“Oh, yes I would,” said Severus. “Now, Potter…” 

“Please, sir, will you let me go now?” asked Harry with exaggerated politeness. When Severus finally let him go, he rubbed his wrists to get the circulation back into them. “You’re still a bastard, sir. And you better apologize to my Mum. Git!” As he shouted the last word, he took off at a run towards the cabin, not daring to look back at the shaking Potions Master who could only stand there, lost in his fury.

*******

Remus yawned. They’d be at it for days, but they couldn’t seem to find anything out of the mask. Not a single damn thing. He had half a mind to toss the bloody thing out, honestly. Something, though, kept him from doing it.

Something irked him at the back of his mind. There were so many things wrong with this picture. First, the smell of his ex-best friend, and then the disappearances of the Headmaster, his Deputy, the Potions professor, and Harry? 

Had Snape caused this? 

Impossible, he chided himself. Severus was good. Or so the story went, anyways. But then again, if Sirius could turn out to be so bad…well, anything was possible. 

An owl at his window interrupted his thoughts. Opening it, he greeted the elderly bird. “Why hello there, what’ve you brought?” 

The bird gingerly dropped a letter into his hand, and perched itself on a nearby rack. Remus looked at the letter, and saw that it had been addressed to the Headmaster. “You know the Headmaster’s not around, right? And I can’t very well open it…” 

The bird cocked its head to the side, as if to say, So what? I’m not leaving until you read it. 

“That would be immeasurably rude of me,” said Remus. “You’re free to stay in the Owlery, I’m sure.” 

At that moment, the Floo roared to life, and a woman’s head popped out. “Headmaster?” 

“I’m sorry, he’s not here at the moment,” replied Remus politely. “How may I help you?” 

“Oh,” the woman replied. “It’s of no matter.” She took another look. “You wouldn’t be Remus Lupin, would you?” 

Taken aback, Remus stuttered, “Y-yes, I am. And who do I have the pleasure of greeting…?” 

“Give me a second,” muttered the woman, before her face disappeared, and a woman came out of the fireplace. “Remus Lupin! It’s been so long! It’s Molly Weasley!” 

Remus’s eyes glinted in recognition. “Of course!” he said, while trying to fend off a rather ferocious hug. “How have you been?” 

“Oh, you’re much too thin, dear,” said Molly. Yep, same old Molly, mother hen of the Order. 

“Don’t worry,” chuckled Remus. “The Hogwarts house elves are doing just fine. I’m positive I gained five pounds the last week I’ve been here.” 

Molly clucked. “I’m sure they couldn’t hold to my cooking, Remus.” 

Remus shook his head. “Boy, Molly, I don’t think anything could. I’m just slobbering thinking about it.” 

“Join us for breakfast,” said Molly, and she wouldn’t take no for an answer. Soon, the two of them were at the Burrow…looking at what seemed (to Remus) to be a never-ending flow of redheads. The letter left on the floor of the Great Hall, forgotten.

********* 

Voldemort strolled down Diagon Alley, smirking at the obvious lax state the people had settled into. Taking over this time around would be easy, it seemed.

He would play his hand subtly, this time. His long exile had been spent in much meditation, and he had come to the realization that many of his previous followers…were not as loyal as they had been before. In this new body, he could simply step back and observe. 

Fortunately, he had been prepared. He had hidden the majority of his wealth at various locations in Great Britain. He would be making his entrance into the Magical world with a bang…just not the one they would be expecting. 

Yes, this would be excellent. For a moment, his blue eyes flashed red.

********

“I’m going to kill him, Albus!” Minerva had stormed back into a room with a huff.

Albus looked up from his book in surprise. “Kill whom, Minerva?” 

“That bastard!”

“Which one?” asked Albus mildly, sipping his tea.

“Severus!”

“Oh?” asked Albus, not looking a bit surprised. “What has he done now?”

“He made Lily cry!” exclaimed Minerva. “Didn’t you see her? Albus!”

“Let the children sort it out, Minerva,” said Albus, patting the spot next to him. “Come, sit. They’ll work it out eventually. Can’t you see how much he loves her?”

“Loves her, Albus?” asked Minerva, sinking down into the sofa, and snuggling into Albus’s grasp. “If he loved her, he wouldn’t have treated her so harshly.”

“You know Severus, Minerva,” said Albus. “He has a hard time…acquainting himself with the unknown. Give him a bit of space and time, and he’ll come around.”

“If you say so, Albus,” said Minerva doubtfully. “But I won’t believe it until I see it.”

“Minerva…” He smiled at her. “You trust me, don’t you?”

“Of course,” she replied tartly. “I would hope so.”

“Then let the children be,” said Albus. “Go and spoil Harry for a bit. I can see the child struggling with in the chocolate chip bag…”

“Oh, dear Lord!” swore Minerva, jumping to her feet. “That child’s making a mess! Harry James Potter! Stop this instant!”

He chuckled, and then looked out the window. Severus seemed to have worked himself into a mood. In two hours, Albus resolved, if Severus would not come back in, Albus was just going to go get him himself. There was enough bad feeling between his son and Minerva’s child to go around the world twice over. And if he could help it, it wouldn’t be lasting very long.