A young boy around the age of eleven with dull green eyes stared sullenly at the flickering flames in the fireplace. He had been sitting on the couch in the Gryffindor common room all night in serene silence. His best friends, Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley, were both upstairs still sleeping in their respective beds without a care in the world. They weren't like him. They weren't at all like Harry. They didn't understand—they couldn't understand the meaning behind of what the upcoming day signaled for the young lonely Gryffindor. His friends couldn't understand the pain this day, All Hallows' Eve, meant, and he hoped they never would.

The poor Gryffindor lion's parents had died ten years to that very day. He had learned all about the famous encounter from Hermione a few months earlier. A sadistic wizard had murdered his parents and had tried to do the very same thing with him. Either luckily or unluckily depending on how you looked at it, that evil dark wizard failed somehow. People in the Wizarding World claimed it was Harry's doing, but that was very unlikely. He was just a baby at the time. If it had been true, then it meant he was a very powerful wizard. However, he was just Harry. He knew it, and he wished others would learn it too.

"It's not fair," the young green-eyed Gryffindor mumbled before settling back against the couch and falling asleep. He truly hated Halloween.

***

Two hours later, Harry felt someone softly touch his shoulder. He grumbled quietly as he woke up. The figure was blurry for a few moments before he quickly slid his glasses on. A girl his age with bushy brown hair stared down at him with concern in her brown eyes. He sighed and rolled his eyes. Here we go again, Harry groaned in his head.

"Harry, you didn't have another nightmare, did you?"

"No, Hermione," Harry quietly replied. "Just couldn't sleep."

"You do know you can tell me anything, right?"

"I know, Hermione, but I'm fine. I promise. I think I just had too many frogs last night." Harry then glanced around the common room. Ron still wasn't up, but it was rare that he ever was when Harry and Hermione were.

"Are you sure it isn't because of what Professor Snape said to you yesterday?"

"Hermione, I'm fine. I just ate too many frogs and couldn't get to sleep. It had nothing to do with that bat."

"Oi, who's a bat?" Ron Weasley, a boy with red hair and freckles, asked sleepily as he finished tying his crimson and gold Gryffindor tie.

"Snape," Harry quickly replied. He ignored the look on Hermione's face. It was yet another thing she didn't understand. She couldn't begin to fathom the hatred the man carried for Harry and vice versa.

"Honestly, Harry, he isn't that bad," Hermione drawled while she rolled her eyes.

"Says you," Ron replied. "You haven't had a detention with the old bat yet." He then glanced towards Harry. "I still say he's a vampire."

"Oh, honestly, Ronald," Hermione exclaimed. "He's in the Great Hall every night eating with us. For the hundredth time, he's not a vampire."

"Maybe he took a potion for that," Ron pointed out. "He is the potions master!"

"You're being ridiculous. Need I remind you about the last time you went on like this?"

"Just because he ate the garlic-laced spaghetti does not prove anything, Hermione. He could have—"

"Taken a potion, yes, I figured you would say that. Honestly, Ronald, do you truly believe that Professor Dumbledore would keep Professor Snape on staff if he was a vampire?"

"Well, look at Quirrell. He's a stuttering idiot, and he's still on staff," Ron quipped back.

"Ronald Weasley," Hermione admonished harshly. "You should not make fun of someone for having a speech impediment."

"Yeah, if that was all he had, we should consider ourselves lucky then," Ron drawled.

Hermione then threw her backpack onto her shoulder angrily. She shot one last dirty look at Ron before whirling around and storming out of the common room. The Fat Lady's portrait slammed shut behind her.

"Nice going, Ron," Harry groaned. It was their fifteenth fight that week, and it always ended in Hermione storming away. He hated it when those two fought because he always felt the knot in his stomach tighten. Somehow, he knew that wherever he would go and whatever he would do, Hermione and Ron would always be there by his side. He sighed heavily. Especially on this day, he knew he needed them together just so he could get through the horribly painful day. "Come on. Let's get to Transfigurations before McGonagall has a cow."

***

Harry's day didn't get any better than it started. He had to sit in between Hermione and Ron during Potions, a deadly combination any day. The students were to brew a simple Pepper-Up Potion. Harry's potion, however, turned into exploding goo of rainbow colors that, unfortunately, found their way to Snape.

The greasy haired potions professor was not at all happy. The mysterious goo covered Snape's all-black robes with every color in a rainbow so that not a shred of black showed. Bits of red and orange streaked Snape's typically pale face. He looked as if a rainbow had just vomited all over him.

"Mr. Potter," Snape's deadly quiet voice whispered. "Did or did I not specifically state—"

"You did," Harry immediately replied. He hadn't noticed he had interrupted his professor until he heard the soft gasps behind him. When he saw the black eyes of his professor narrow into slits, Harry gulped. He was dead.

"Six hundred points from Gryffindor for Mr. Potter's atrocious manners," Snape sneered before a smirk took over his face. "You will write me a twenty foot essay on the proper way to address a teacher, and be lucky that is all you are getting, Mr. Potter. After all, even celebrities such as you need to realize that certain necessities and rules must be followed. You are not above the law, Mr. Potter. I hope you realize this now." His eyes of coal then glanced around the room. "Get out of here, all of you!" he barked at the frightened Gryffindor and Slytherin students. They fled from the room.

Later that same night, after Harry, Ron, and Hermione faced down and defeated a fully-grown Mountain Troll, the Golden Trio decided to go to bed. However, Harry couldn't get the fact that Snape had a gash to his right leg. There was more to the potions professor than met the eye. So, as Harry sat on the couch in the common room for the fifth night in row pondering his thoughts, two figures quietly crept down from their respective dorms towards him.

"Hey, Harry," Ron softly whispered before he took a seat in the recliner closest to him. "Couldn't sleep again?"

"Ron," Harry replied shocked. It was rare for Ron to be up still. He then caught Hermione's silent figure standing next to Ron. Wonderful, Harry groaned in his head. "I'm fine, guys."

"We know," Hermione quietly responded. "You just can't sleep." She then inhaled deeply before sitting next to Harry. "Well, we can't sleep either."

"Yeah, especially after that troll," Ron mumbled. "Blimey, that thing was huge." The three friends then quietly laughed in their shared joke while they watched the dying flames. "You know, I still think Snape's a vampire. I mean, did you see how fast he got there afterwards?"

"I'm not so sure he is a vampire anymore, Ron. I saw his reflection today in the mirror when McGonagall, Quirrell, and he were in the lavatory after the troll," Harry said.

"Well, I say we take a little trip down to his rooms and find out," Ron bravely said.

"He'd kill us."

"Least we'd know then," Ron replied. He then burst into a full-blown smile. "Come on, Harry. Not even my brothers Fred and George have done that. We'd be famous."

"Yeah, for being stupid," Harry muttered. "Sorry, Ron, but I don't want to give Snape anymore reason to kill me…especially since I saw his leg."

"His leg?" Hermione asked with a puzzled look.

"Yeah, it looked as if something bit him."

"You think he was trying to steal whatever is on the third floor?"

"Beats me, but it would make sense."

"Of course it makes sense, Harry. He's a creepy bloke," Ron said. He then glanced towards Hermione. "Come on, Hermione. We need to check it out now. What if Snape's trying to steal whatever is up there? We have a duty to save it, don't we?"

"You just want to see if he's a vampire, Ronald, not to save Hogwarts. I'm not convinced that he is trying to steal anything. He's a Hogwarts professor, and Professor Dumbledore trusts him."

"So…he's barmy. Look at his choice to make Quirrell the Defense against Dark Arts professor. That definitely wasn't a choice made by anyone sane. Either way, I say we go." Ron then leapt up out of his chair and started to head towards the door. He turned around when he reached it. "You two coming?"

Harry glanced from Hermione to Ron. He sighed heavily. He knew he shouldn't go, but he also knew he needed to know. There was something off about their potions professor, and if they happened to figure it out, then maybe Harry could finally get some sleep. So the three Gryffindors set out on their first of many adventures to come.

***

After successfully bribing the portrait in front of Snape's rooms with promising that they would move the portrait of the witch in the Astronomy tower closer, the three Gryffindors were standing in Snape's living area. It was dark, but the three didn't expect anything different. They quietly crept in the darkness with their pathetic Lumos-casted wands deeper into the rooms. Just as they were about to open a shut door, the Golden Trio heard soft laughter in a nearby room.

"Honestly, Severus," a woman's voice floated out. "You need to stop being so harsh with them. Otherwise, Minerva's finally going to make good on her threat."

"I'd like to see her try," Snape's soft voice replied.

The young Gryffindors' ears perked up. There was a woman in their potions professor's quarters, a woman that all three Gryffindors recognized. Ron was the first to say it.

"Sinistra?!" Ron whispered. "Snape and Sinistra? Ugh, now I know I'm going to be sick." He was immediately rewarded with a swift punch to his shoulder from Hermione. He remained quiet as he gently rubbed his arm.

"Oh, yes, I bet you would, Severus. You love goading people. I bet it's your favorite pastime."

"Indeed," Snape replied in an amused tone. "Tell me, Aurora. Is it not also yours?"

"Yes, but I know just how far to take it."

"As do I. Or have you forgotten? After all, you have been stuck up in that tower for years."

"Oh, you wish," Sinistra drawled. She then softly laughed again. "You know, one of these days the students are going to learn their potions professor's dirty little secret."

"And they will be dead by morning," Snape replied.

"I think Dumbledore would notice that, Severus. And while I might currently share your bed, I am not ever going to be your accomplice when murder a few students. My loyalty shifts to whichever way that suits me. Being an accessory to murder is not something I wish to be known for."

"No, of course not," Snape drawled. "You'd much rather be known as the emotional professor."

"Oh, shut up, Severus. I am so not emotional."

"Forgive me, but did you not cry last year at—" SLAP!

"I told you never to bring that up again, Severus," Professor Sinistra's voice growled.

"So you did," Snape replied softly. "I apologize, Aurora. I meant nothing by my words." It then became quiet for a few minutes.

"Severus, when are you going to tell Harry?"

Harry's eyes widened. He felt like the wind had been knocked out of him. He stared towards the door, eagerly awaiting the answer. What was he supposed to be told and why?

"When the time's right. Now is not the time, though. It'll do him no good to know the truth."

The truth…? No, Snape, tell me. Come on. Please, Harry begged silently in his head. He needed to know. His curiosity was already peaked. What's the truth, Snape?

"Severus, you don't know that. I've watched the boy. He's not his father."

"You think I haven't seen that, Aurora," Snape harshly snapped. "No. No, he's not at all like James. He's all Lily." Silence then settled into the room. "However, as I said before, it does not good for him to know the truth, Aurora. We all have our parts to play, which is what I am doing."

"Oh, is that why you're such an ass to him? Had me fooled," Sinistra growled. She then snarled loudly before something in the room broke. "I hate this, Severus. I hate that he's using you like this. We don't even know if—"

"The signs are all around us, Aurora. You would do well to believe him also."

"It's been hurting again, hasn't it?"

"It comes and goes, but it is tolerable as long as I am near you."

Ron made a disgusted face at his professor's words. It was so sickening for him to hear his two professors carry on like that. He then shuddered as a thought crossed his mind. He hoped to Merlin the image that had come to his mind right then wasn't true.

"You still love her, don't you, Severus?"

"Always," Snape replied fiercely. "However, she does not belong to me anymore. She made her choice, as have I, Aurora. Now, rest. You should not be up."

"Oh, you just don't want to have to deal with me grumpy tomorrow."

"Au contraire, I do not wish to hear the little brats whine how their Astronomy professor is such a witch to them. I believe I've shown I can handle your temper. Now rest or I shall cast a sleeping spell."

"Fine," Sinistra sighed. "You do know that he's probably missing them both tremendously?"

"Yes, however, it is not my concern. I am only to protect the brat, not be his mentor. That is my role, and I will do everything in my power to keep him safe."

"I know you will, Severus."

Harry felt Hermione yank him towards the door. He stumbled in shock and followed her. When they were in the corridor, he felt his heart sink slightly. He needed to know the truth, but he could wait for now. Maybe Halloween wasn't so bad. After all, he had learned that he had someone looking out for him. He hadn't had that before. Maybe his luck was changing; then again, it was Snape protecting him.

Two days later, Harry slowly walked down the windy staircase towards the potions classroom. The night before last had been a particularly brutal Quidditch practice. Oliver Wood, Gryffindor’s Quidditch Captain, had made everyone practice so hard that some of the Gryffindors had collapsed once they landed back on the ground. It also didn’t help matters when they all practiced in a sudden downpour. The entire team was sick now, including Harry. Luckily, the team had already defeated Slytherin so he wasn’t too concerned.

“You’re late, Potter,” a voice softly hissed from the head of the classroom.

“Sorry,” Harry replied with a hint of annoyance. He wasn’t feeling well to begin with, but add a spending quality time with Snape and he really wasn’t feeling well.

“Save your mindless apologies for another time, Potter. For one, I do not care. And for two, they are worthless when they are from your mouth. Now, take your seat before I wither and die of old age.”

“We can only hope,” Harry muttered under his breath as he took his seat. It instantly became dead quiet in the dark, damp dungeons. The young Gryffindor glanced towards the head of the classroom and sighed. Snape was sitting at his desk correcting essays. However, the dark onyx eyes were staring into Harry’s emerald eyes with an indescribable look. After awhile, it started to unsettle Harry. “Is something wrong?”

“Only that I am stuck here with you, Potter,” Snape replied off the cuff. He then glanced back down onto the essay he was grading. “Perhaps you should begin working on your potion, Potter, before you find yourself out on your ass.” The big tall bat of a professor then quickly got to his feet and stalked out of the room. His long black robes flowed majestically behind him.

“Bloody bat,” Harry mumbled as he pulled out his materials to brew the potion. He quietly lit the fire for the caldron and sighed. He knew he was going to be in for a long night. He sighed and pulled out the jar that contained pickled eyes of newts. He shivered unconsciously as he glanced at the unnatural looking eyes. He then set down the powdered asphodel and bicorn horn. A few years ago, he had been in a science class learning about electromagnetism and about the periodic table of elements. Now he was mixing strange ingredients together to concoct odd potions with magic.

Twenty minutes later, Harry’s potion had turned a neon bluish color and glowed. It bathed the room in a florescent range of beautiful colors. He had to admit it. Potions was kind of fun. That was if he didn’t have a certain bat hovering over him all the time. A little annoying voice in the back of his head then reared its head.

I protect him, the familiar low and irritating voice whispered in his mind. Harry sighed at the little voice. He so did not need a voice that sounded like Snape, especially since he had the real thing in the backroom. Speaking of which, where was he? Harry turned around and tried to catch a glimpse of Snape. However, he only saw darkness. He knew that Snape had to be lurking in the shadows out there somewhere. He just couldn’t see where. A few more moments he spent looking for Snape, but he had no such luck. He turned back around and continued brewing his potion.

Hmm…if I add this to it, it will…it will…um…well…um…maybe if I did this…no…no…definitely not that… Harry then sighed as he watched the bluish-gray smoke rise out of his caldron. His potion was still salvageable, but just barely. He glanced at the bottle of yellow liquid in his hand and then back to the caldron. What if I added this to it?

“You would create a cataclysmic explosion that would probably wipe out all of Hogwarts,” the silky voice drawled behind Harry. “However, by all means, do pour that solution in there. I must say that I am rather tired of this tedious life. After all, I would have done it long ago had it not been for my being a teacher. I would be the first suspect, you understand?” Snape then walked closer to Harry and glanced into his caldron. “Pitiful,” he sneered before his eyes darted to Harry. “How anyone considers you all-powerful is beyond me. You can’t even manage to brew properly a Soothing Solution right.”

“I’m not good at this stuff,” Harry quickly retorted.

“Yes, that is abysmally clear.” Snape then sighed heavily before he pinched the bridge of his hooked nose. “Tell me, Potter. Do you honestly have a death wish? Or are you just that stupid to think that pouring liquid sunshine into your horrid solution will have no consequence whatsoever? Always acting before you think, aren’t you, Potter? One day, it will get you killed. Now, leave before I turn you into a little ray of sunshine,” he sneered. Harry didn’t need to be told twice. He fled like a wounded dog.

"Harry, get a move on or we're going to be late," Hermione shouted upstairs.

Harry instantly groaned as he rolled over in bed. His entire body ached. His head was actually the worst that hurt. Every move felt like someone was stabbing him ten times over. He groaned again before slowly, as a turtle, getting out of bed. While limping towards his trunk to grab his Astronomy book, he noticed the small splatter marks of blood on his jeans. However, he shrugged it off and quietly limped with book in hand towards the door to leave the dorms. They had to get to Astronomy class before Professor Sinistra threw another of her royal fits, and he really wasn't in the mood for that tonight.

"Oh, Harry, I'm—" Hermione started to say full of remorse at her words earlier.

"I'm fine, Hermione. Let's just get up there," Harry harshly snapped as he limped past his two best friends in the Common Room, a few seconds later. He knew he looked like hell. He didn't need them saying it repeatedly. He then sighed heavily.

About ten minutes later, the Golden Trio was walking up the spiral cast iron staircase in the Astronomy Tower. Harry walked into the classroom first, and his eyes immediately narrowed on the rows of empty desks. He could have sworn they had Astronomy tonight. After all, why else would Hermione drag him up here? He then turned around. Hermione and Ron were nowhere in sight.

"But I saw them. I know I did," Harry said aloud.

"First the snakes and now visions," a familiar voice softly said from his right, "my, my, young Mr. Potter, you are trying to be extraordinary, aren't you?"

Harry quickly glanced towards his right and sighed. It was only Professor Sinistra. She was staring up at the night sky. She had wrapped tightly around herself her long emerald cloak since there was a slight breeze. His eyes narrowed at the small seal embroidered into the velvet above her left breast. He had seen that symbol somewhere, but he couldn't remember where.

"Why are you here, Mr. Potter?"

"I thought we had Astronomy tonight," Harry replied quietly.

"Ah, yes, well, normally you would be correct. However, I cancelled class this evening. Unfortunately, something came up that was extremely urgent and needed my attention."

"Oh," Harry replied before he slowly turned around. "I guess I'll be leaving then."

"There's no need, Potter. We were all here waiting for you anyway," a slow silky voice said from the shadows of the room.

"Professor Snape," Harry said uneasily.

"The one and only, Potter," Snape replied rather annoyed. "I'm surprised a dunderhead such as you can tell who I am." He then stepped out of the shadows and into the moonlight. Filth covered every inch of his black robes. He had a deep jagged cut that ran from his eyebrow to the corner of his lip and had various cuts and bruises all over his face. He also walked with a noticeable limp, which Harry guessed was because of the seven-inch gash to Snape's leg.

"Is it done?" Professor Sinistra asked quietly.

"Of course, it is. I am not known to leave a job unfinished." Snape then glanced towards Harry. "What is Potter doing here, Sinistra?"

"He didn't get the message that I cancelled class tonight."

"If that was the only thing he missed, we should consider ourselves lucky then."

Unable to hold his tongue, Harry snapped, "If you're talking about you and Professor Sinistra, I already know." Neither professor made an inclination that they heard him so he moved closer to Snape. "Personally, I think she's dating beneath her. Don't you agree?"

"Why you little—" Snape growled before lunging towards Harry.

Within moments afterwards, Professor Sinistra threw her right hand up and made a cupping motion towards Snape. Harry watched in awe as Snape stopped in mid-air. The Potions Professor was so close to Harry that the Gryffindor could feel his breath.

"Congratulations, Harry. You've succeeded in pissing Severus off. Now, perhaps it is time you returned to your Common Room before Hagrid or someone finds your mutilated corpse in the Forbidden Forest. Do you understand?"

Harry slowly nodded in response and turned around to walk back out of the Astronomy Tower. He had never seen her like this before. He had to admit that Professor Sinistra was scarier than Snape if that was even possible.

"One last thing, Harry," Professor Sinistra's gentle voice said. She waited until Harry turned back to her before speaking again. Once she caught his green eyes, she softly smirked. "You are mistaken. Severus and I are of equal strength when it comes to magic and intelligence. To insinuate anything different is the equivalent of insulting your parents. After all, James and Lily were of equal strength also." She instantly caught the young Gryffindor's sudden intake of breath. "You would also do well to understand the necessary risk we both take in order to keep your measly self alive, Harry. That is…unless you foolishly believe that Severus and I love to return here in a bloody heap. If that is the case, then we live to serve you. Now, get the hell out."

When Harry woke up the next day, he immediately noticed he was not in Gryffindor Tower. In fact, he had no idea where he was. The entire décor of the room seemed strange as if it didn’t belong at Hogwarts. He quickly tried to roll over, but found himself curling up into a ball as a pain rippled throughout every nerve in his body. He couldn’t hold back his pain-filled cries of agony.

“Easy,” a soft voice whispered seconds later.

“Hurts,” Harry moaned back.

“I don’t doubt that,” the voice replied. “His temperature is still rising. Can you give it to him now? I don’t know how much longer he can last like this.”

“Severus, how nice of you to join us,” a voice hissed from the surrounding darkness. “I must admit that I had just wanted this conversation to be between Harry and myself, but I will permit your stay here. After all, it is time I rewarded you. Isn’t it, my most faithful servant?”

"What is he talking about, sir?" Harry asked seconds later.

"Yes, Severus, what am I talking about?" the voice hissed amusedly.

Harry quickly glanced towards his potions professor. The older wizard looked deathly pale, but said nothing to Harry. Harry then whirled around to glance back at the surrounding darkness. He couldn't see anyone out there, but someone obviously had to be there.

"Dammit, Potter," a distorted voice growled somewhere above him.

"What's going on? I don't understand! Professor, where is he?"

"Hearing voices, Potter?" the first voice sneered in the darkness. "Obviously, he's gone mental."

"Poor Harry… No one loved him," another voice drawled.

"Will that be all or does our Prince Harry need another?"

"I DON'T UNDERSTAND!" Harry screamed as he whirled around.

"It's all right, Harry. You're safe," a soft voice whispered to his left. However, when he peered into the darkness, he couldn't see anyone there.

"Sir, I don't understand what's going on," Harry said to Snape who stood beside him.

"COME HERE, BOY!" a voice that he knew for certain shouldn't be there echoed around the darkness and surrounded them.

"I, Severus Snape, swear on my Wizard's Oath to protect Harry Potter from the Dark Lord and his true followers," another voice mumbled behind Harry.

"This doesn't make sense! Please! Sir, what's going on?"

Snape slowly glanced towards Harry. The young boy instantly felt a chill run down his spine at the look on the older wizard's face. Something was wrong. Something was horribly wrong. He drew in a deep breath and waited.

"I'd think it'd be painfully obvious by now, Potter," Snape coolly responded before his wand easily slipped into his hand. "Avada Kedavra!" he yelled as he pointed his wand towards Harry.

Harry didn't have an inkling of a chance to escape it. The green light quickly enveloped him, but nothing happened strangely. He instantly gulped at the scary smile on Snape's face. It was just too creepy to see.

"Um…sir…?"

"Bravo, Potter, bravo," Snape replied before fading away.

"I don't understand," Harry whimpered as more darkness filtered in. Too many voices whispered in the darkness that he couldn't tell what was real and what wasn't. He whirled around trying to find a shred of light at least twice. He found none, though. "Please…" he whimpered as he sat down on drew his knees to his chest. He wouldn't cry. He would not cry. Crying didn't help. He had learned that from the Dursleys. Resting his head atop of his knees, Harry felt the traitorous tears slide down his cheeks. "Please…"

"Quiet yourself, Potter. You are fine," Snape said next to him. "Now, open your eyes before I make you."

Harry slowly reopened his eyes. Almost immediately, his surroundings bombarded him with extreme clarity. He gasped as he realized that he was in an unknown part of the dungeons. He glanced around to figure out his surroundings, but ceased when he noticed that Snape was sitting in a chair next to Harry. It was then Harry noticed that someone had propped him up in an unfamiliar bed.

"What…what happened, sir?"

"You collapsed in my classroom while brewing a potion, Potter," Snape replied. "I brought you here because you were rather ill and not stable enough to be transported to the Hospital Wing. I take it you are feeling better now, though?"

"I…you mean it wasn't real, sir?"

"To what are you referring to, Potter?"

"You and Sinistra," Harry blurted back. He instantly grimaced at the violent reaction on the older wizard's face. Perhaps he should have stated something else rather than starting with that hallucination."

"My supposed relationship with her is none of your business, Potter," Snape growled.

"Oh, um…well, did you get hurt then, sir?"

"What are you talking about?" Snape asked with a confused look on his face.

"You and Professor Sinistra were on the Astronomy Tower talking about some job you finished." Harry instantly noticed Snape's eyes narrow.

"I assure you, Mr. Potter, that I have not left your bedside. Your fever was dangerously high. Madam Pomfrey can corroborate with my story in case you do not believe me."

"Because you protect me," Harry responded. Again, he noticed the look on Snape's face.

"What? Where on Earth did you hear a silly thing like that?"

"You told Professor Sinistra that in your quarters the other day."

"You were in my rooms?" Snape squawked grumpily. "I shall inform the Headmaster directly."

"I was only in the sitting room. We…well…I wanted to prove you were a vampire."

"So you committed a crime by breaking and entering into my quarters?" Snape then sighed heavily. "Even if what you are saying is true, what makes you truly believe I will confirm your theory about that silly phrase?"

"Oh, I guess that was another hallucination," Harry replied quietly. "Since you've probably already assigned me lots of detentions for being bothersome, can you at least answer my question?"

"About my being a vampire…?"

"Yeah," Harry responded. He then watched Snape roll his eyes before walking towards the far wall. His eyes narrowed when he watched Snape grab hold of huge Slytherin tapestry that hung on the wall. Seconds later, sunlight flooded the room as Snape pulled it back to reveal a large window. He made sure that he stood in the sunlight before folding his arms.

"Does that answer your question, Mr. Potter?"

"Yes, sir," Harry quietly whispered.

"Excellent," Snape drawled before allowing the tapestry to cover the window again. "You are unfortunately still too weak for me to move you. Therefore, you should sleep, Potter, while you have the chance. We will speak further tomorrow about those dreams of yours."

When Harry woke up again, it was to the smell of food. His stomach grumbled in response. He glanced around the room that he remembered was Snape's bedroom. The older wizard didn't seem to be around, which Harry wasn't necessarily complaining. He tried to get out of bed, but found that he had been stuck to it. He glared towards the nearly closed door.

"That smells good," Professor Sinistra's voice carried into the room.

"You should leave before he wakes up," Snape responded from somewhere out there.

"Oh, like he doesn't already know," she drawled. "I mean, didn't he say something after he first woke up? You know, I nearly died laughing at the look on your face."

"We are lucky he didn't realize you were in the room."

"Oh, please, Severus," she drawled. "We're adults."

"Some of us," Snape replied.

Harry felt himself smile softly. He didn't really know why, though. He knew he should have been freaked out by hearing his two professors carry on so, but he wasn't really. He couldn't explain it. He then heard the footsteps heading in his direction. He glanced around to see if he could perhaps hide, but thought better of it. Snape hadn't killed him so far.

When the door slowly opened, Harry gulped. Snape only rolled his eyes, though, before crossing his arms. His foot tapped slightly on the floor. Harry couldn't figure out what he was waiting for. However, when he noticed the other set of legs behind Snape, he couldn't hold back his laughter.

"Is something funny, Mr. Potter?"

"No, sir," Harry responded sobering slightly.

"Oh, stop being such an ass, Severus."

Harry then laughed again when he saw Snape shoved forward before Professor Sinistra walked in with a tray of food following behind her. She had a pleasant smile on her face as she regarded him. The tray of food gently levitated over to Harry and set down on the bed.

"Eat as much as you can, Harry."

"I had hoped the boy could eat like a civilized person, Aurora," Snape growled.

"Severus, he was sick. He needs to regain his strength."

"He was poisoned, Aurora."

"Same difference," she replied.

"No. It's not. There is a very big difference between being sick and being poisoned. Of course, it's not as if you could ever tell the difference."

"What does that mean?"

"Obviously, you're too thick to get it." Snape then turned his attention back onto Harry. "How do you feel, Potter?"

"Tired," replied Harry quietly.

"Understandable," Snape said before glancing towards Aurora. "Well, then by all means, Aurora, you may stay with the boy."

"Severus," she said under her breath. She then gave him a pointed look in the direction of Harry.

"Fine," Snape growled before walking closer to Harry. "Fine, Aurora. You win yet again. Are you happy?"

"Quite," she replied before walking back out of the room.

"Um, sir, if you want to leave—"

"As if I would ever need your permission to leave my own quarters, Potter," Snape growled.

"I just meant you didn't have to say with me."

"I believe that you just proved to me yesterday that I must stay with you. Now, eat your breakfast before it gets cold." Snape grudgingly walked towards one of the far chairs and plopped down in it. He angrily crossed his arms and stared at Harry.

"I'm sorry, sir," Harry quietly apologized.

"Shut up, Potter," Snape growled back. He then sighed heavily before closing his eyes. "Apologies are a sign of weakness, Potter, so do not show me your weakness."

"Yes, sir," he replied. "Thanks for the food." Snape only waved away his gratitude.

Harry had to admit the food was excellent. When he first started to eat, he hadn't known that he was so hungry. Ignoring Snape the best he could, Harry ate as fast as he could. If he had any time to spend, he would have tried to savor it, but he was so hungry. Five chocolate pancakes, three sausage links, and two strips of bacon later, Harry leaned back and licked his lips. He could still taste the maple syrup. He quickly fell into food coma. Well, that was until he heard someone harshly clear his throat.

"I take it you enjoyed your breakfast?" Snape asked glaring.

"Um…well…yes, sir," Harry meekly replied. "It was amazing."

"Excellent," Snape drawled before sighing. "I believe you and I need to speak about these dreams of yours."

"Wouldn't they be more like hallucinations since I was poisoned, sir?" Harry instantly noticed Snape roll his eyes. "Sorry, sir, I understand. Well, there's not much to tell really."

"There is if you foolishly believe that Aurora and I are secretly completing missions. I assure you, Mr. Potter, that we are both professors. We are not spies or agents of any kind."

"Then you didn't serve him?" Harry caught the slight jerk of Snape's left hand before the man vocally responded.

"To whom are you referring to, Mr. Potter?"

"Well, um…You-Know-Who," Harry quietly replied. There was another jerk of Snape's hand.

"You saw this in your dream?" Snape coolly asked.

"Yes, sir," Harry answered. "It isn't true, is it, sir?"

"No, Potter. It isn't true," Snape replied before standing up. The man looked positively flustered, which was so uncharacteristically unlike him. He glanced at Harry one last time before sighing heavily. "I shall return later this morning. If you require anything, you may call out for my house elf. His name is Mokai." Harry's eyes narrowed on him. "You do know what a house elf is, correct?"

"No, sir," Harry replied quietly.

"It is a magical creature that serves Wizarding families. Mokai," he commanded. Two seconds later, a small creature popped in. "I shall leave you two alone." Snape then left the room quickly.

Several hours later, Harry sighed. The house elf had left him alone again. He tried to hear for sounds outside of the room, thinking that Professor Sinistra was out there. However, he heard nothing. The young Gryffindor hung his head dejectedly. He was so sure that it would be different this time.

"Young Mr. Potter, the Boy-Who-DIED," a harsh voice whispered from the shadows.

Harry gulped as he glanced around. He didn't see anyone, but he knew from experience that didn't mean he was alone. He was about to call for Mokai when the voice spoke. It was softer now.

"Such a fragile creature you are," the voice whispered. "You reek of your fear. No. No. That will not do for me."

"Who…who are you?" Harry asked hesitantly.

"A friend…and an enemy…I'm all…and nothing," the voice replied. Loud laughter then rang out throughout the semi-dark room. "But then again, you have all those, don't you, Mr. Potter? A friend…Ron Weasley, an enemy…He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named…Lord Voldemort," the voice hissed. "Yes, yes you will do great things. I can see it…just there beyond your scar. Darkness shrouded in light, death mixed with life…my, you are a conundrum, Mr. Potter."

"You're the one doing this to me, aren't you? You poisoned me."

"Ah…such innocence behind your words," the voice sighed contently. "No, dear child, it was not I who hurt you. Tell me, Mr. Potter. Do you trust Severus Snape with your life?"

"I…I—"

"I see you need more time. Well, then…until we meet again, young Mr. Potter."

"Please…please don't leave," Harry begged. A strange wind blew around the room, though, before the lights around the room extinguished. However, he only remained in the dark for a few moments before the bedroom door opened.

"Harry, are you all right? Oh, well, let's get those lights back on," Professor Sinistra said before nonverbally casting Incendio towards the candles. "That's better." However, Harry knew better. Whatever he just experienced would only occur again later when he was alone. He needed to tell Snape.

Harry had just finished telling Snape about his encounter earlier in the day. The older wizard stared at him for a few minutes before sighing heavily. That wasn't a good sign. The older wizard then glanced around the bedroom and shook his head.

"There's nothing here, Potter."

"Well, I'm not going crazy, Snape."

"I didn't say you were, Potter," Snape replied calmly. He then casted a diagnostic charm on Harry but found nothing out of the ordinary. "Your temperature is well within normal limits. There is no trace left of the poison. It is not that I do not believe you, Potter. However, if there were someone in this room other than Sinistra, Pomfrey, the Headmaster, or myself the alarms would have sounded. As such, they were not."

"So what then, Snape?" growled Harry. "You think that I hallucinated again?"

"I did not say that." Snape then sighed heavily. "However, it is rather unsettling that you are hearing a voice that only you can hear. Repeat the question it asked."

"It wanted to know if I trusted you."

"Indeed," Snape replied quietly. "Did it seem content with your answer?"

"Well, I…I didn't really respond."

"I see. I take it there was a reaction, though?"

"Yeah, it said it'd be back."

"Do you feel uneasy around this voice?"

"Not really, I mean, I did at first, but I don't think it wants to hurt me."

"Do you recall if it is feminine or masculine?"

"I don't know. I think it might have been a woman, but I don't know."

"I see, well, I recommend then you think of your answer for your next encounter, Potter."

"You mean you're not going to do anything, Snape?"

"There is little for me to do, Potter, when I cannot find any evidence of what you claim."

"Great, so if it murders me, then you'll have your evidence."

"Oh, stop being so melodramatic, Potter. If it was going to kill you, it would have done so."

"So what then, Snape?" growled Harry.

"If it wishes for an answer, you will give it. Potter, you must understand that I need to learn more about the mysterious voice of yours before I can help you. So far, my only thoughts are that you either have suffered a severe mental breakdown because of the poison or that you are a Parselmouth. Seeing how there are no snakes in my quarters, though, and that I very much doubt the son of James Potter would ever exhibit a Slytherin trait, I do not see an answer."

Harry then gulped before hanging his head. He had thought speaking to snakes was just something wizards could do, but if Snape was telling the truth… He glanced up and met the older wizard's narrowing eyes.

"Um…Snape, I've…um…talked to a snake before," Harry quietly admitted.

"I very much doubt that, Potter. It was most likely a coincidence."

"No, really I can, Snape," Harry argued a bit more enthusiastically than he meant to.

"Prove it, Potter," Snape said lazily before conjuring a small garter snake.

Harry glanced at the snake and then to Snape. Did he really want to show Snape this? He sighed heavily. Well, what could it hurt anyway? It was just Snape. He drew in a deep breath and concentrated.

"Lie down," Harry hissed. In response, the snake replied with a hiss before curling into a tight ball. However, it had done its job. Harry instantly caught Snape's shock before the older wizard's face went back to its stoic mask he always wore. The snake then vanished with a wave of Snape's hand.

"How wonderful," Snape drawled sarcastically. "Our Golden Boy is a Parselmouth." He then angrily ran a hand through his long black hair before glaring at Harry.

"Sorry, sir, but you didn't believe me."

"Yes, and you just had to make me be the one to see that little trick of yours, didn't you? Merlin, Potter, you are going to get the both of us killed." Snape then rubbed his left forearm absentmindedly before sighing heavily. "What do you know about the Dark Lord, Potter?"

"Not much, sir," Harry admitted. "I know he killed my parents."

"No doubt from Miss Granger," Snape drawled before shaking his head grumpily. "Very well, Potter. We're going to play the asinine Muggle game of twenty questions. You are familiar with this, yes?" Harry nodded. "Good, I will go first and you will answer my question truthfully. Do not try to lie to me, Potter, because I will know. Is that understood?"

"Yes, sir," Harry replied solemnly. He didn't really understand why they were doing this, but he guessed Snape had a reason.

"Who knows you can speak to snakes?"

"No one, sir," Harry answered. "I thought all wizards could."

"Not all wizards, Mr. Potter," Snape replied in a tired voice. "It seems as if you share a commonality with the Dark Lord. Yes, Potter, he too could speak to snakes."

"Then it's a sign of dark wizards?"

"Depends on the wizard, but yes usually it is a sign. Before you foolishly believe you are a dark wizard, Potter, know that I do not believe you are." Snape then sighed again. "Salazar Slytherin is another Parselmouth. It is why Slytherin's mascot is a snake. Where did you first learn that you could speak to snakes?"

"When my aunt and uncle took me and my cousin Dudley to the zoo this summer," Harry replied. "It was the first time I did accidental magic. I was talking to the snake and Dudley came over and pushed me down. He was sticking his fat face against the window when it just disappeared. Uncle Vernon wasn't too happy about that."

"I bet not. Your question, Mr. Potter?" asked Snape quietly.

"Why were you so freaked out when I asked you if you served You-Know-Who?"

Harry instantly noticed Snape's hand latch onto his forearm again. It was almost as if it was instinct for the man. Quietly, he tucked his next question in the back of his mind. He then heard the man sigh heavily before clearing his throat.

"It is not a question one hears often, Potter." Snape then glanced away collecting his thoughts.

"I think there's the option to pass if you want to, sir."

"No, Potter, you deserve the truth." Snape then snorted before glancing at him. "You'll probably dream of it sometime anyway. Earlier this morning, when you asked me that question, I regret that I lied to you." Snape then glanced down at the floor. "I dumbly believed his lies."

"You…you served him?" Harry choked out.

"Yes, Potter, I was a loyal follower of the Dark Lord for five years before your parents' deaths."

"But…but you protect me!"

"I protect you now, Potter, but only out of regret." A dark shadow loomed behind Snape's eyes. "There was no reason for your parents' deaths."

"And the others?" asked Harry. "Did they have a reason, Snape?"

"No." Snape then glanced towards Harry. "When I learned of what I had done, I begged and pleaded, but it did no good. Their deaths were already stained onto my soul." He then chuckled ruefully. "That is if I have a soul left," he quietly said. Glancing at Harry with haunted eyes, he sighed. "Now, do you understand why I might have been unsettled? You were never to learn of my role in your parents' deaths. I did not want you to know that you were under the same roof as the man who practically murdered your parents."

"But…but Hermione said it was You-Know-Who!"

"Yes, well, while he might have casted the curses, I gave him the motive. I am no different from him, Potter. In those five years I served him, I murdered over three hundred people, three hundred, Potter. Some were the result of my spells, while others were from my potions. Each death added more stains until finally I was covered in so much blood that it would not wash off." Snape then closed his eyes and slowly drew in a breath.

"So then you are the one trying to steal whatever that dog's guarding on the third floor?"

"What do you know about that?" Snape's eyes quickly opened and narrowed on Harry.

"I asked the question first, Snape."

"Yes, Potter, I know, and my answer is no. Now how do you know about the dog?"

"How do I know you're telling the truth?"

"Do you honestly believe Albus Dumbledore would allow me within a hundred feet of you if he thought even for a moment that I was still serving the Dark Lord, Potter?"

"Fine," Harry grudgingly replied. "We were on our way back to the common room when the staircases decided to move. We ended up in the third floor corridor, and when we figured that out, it was too late to turn back because Mrs. Norris saw us. We were worried that Filch was going to find us so we opened the door and hid inside. We didn't know that there'd be a three-headed dog in there, though."

"And when you met the dog?"

"Obviously, we ran like hell out of there, Snape," Harry grumbled. He then sighed heavily before glancing at the older wizard. "I believe it's my turn now." Snape motioned with his hand for him to continue. "Why do you keep grabbing your arm?" When he noticed Snape's eyes narrow, he sighed. "Every time I bring up You-Know-Who, you grab your arm. Why?"

Snape didn't vocally respond this time. Instead, he silently unbuttoned his left sleeve before rolling them up. He then showed his forearm towards Harry. There was a faded tattoo on his arm, but Harry couldn't understand why the man was showing him this. It must have been evident on his face because Snape then quietly muttered to himself before buttoning his sleeve back up.

"It is the Dark Lord's Mark, Potter. It basically states that I am his servant."

"Couldn't you just remove it now?"

"Honestly, Potter," Snape drawled. "Do you honestly believe that to be just an ordinary mark? The Dark Lord branded me by using his dark magic, Potter. There is no way to remove it."

"Oh," Harry replied quietly. "So does it hurt then?"

"Thankfully not for some time," Snape responded. "Now, I believe I am allowed to ask two more questions since you took yours." Harry only nodded. "What honestly occurred on Halloween night because while I remember seeing you and Weasley I do not remember seeing Miss Granger?"

"Ron shot off his mouth, and well, it upset her."

"And the troll enters this sordid event how?"

"She was crying in the girls' bathroom that just happened to be the one the troll went to. Ron and I were trying to warn her, and well, we ran into it just as it about tried to kill Hermione."

"I see. You are fiercely protective of your friends."

"Is there something wrong with that, Snape?"

"No. I believe I am allowed to ask the next question."

"You goaded me into that."

"Perhaps, but I will allow you to ask my remaining questions if you answer my last." Snape narrowed his eyes on Harry for a few short minutes before sighing. "Since we are sharing so much with each other and perhaps even getting along rather well, could you please not act so much like a Gryffindor and rush off like a fool towards danger but allow the adults to handle it? What that dog is guarding is none of your concern, Potter. Listen to me as I say this. It is well guarded."

"Fine," Harry sighed. He then stared at Snape before folding his arms. "What were you doing on Halloween, Snape?"

"Enjoying the feast, Potter," Snape drawled sarcastically. "Next question," he said with a smirk.

"Hey, that wasn't what I meant." Harry then growled. "Fine, Snape, why was your leg bleeding when you came into the girls' bathroom on Halloween?"

"Because I had an unfortunate incident with the three-headed dog," Snape replied seriously.

"What is your relationship with Professor Sinistra?"

"Are you honestly asking that, Potter? Oh, dear Merlin, fine, Potter," Snape growled before he smirked wickedly. "I am currently involved in a sexual relationship with your Astronomy Professor. Does that answer your question?"

Harry's face instantly turned bright red from embarrassment. He couldn't believe Snape had just said that. It was too creepy. It took Harry a few minutes before he could shake the disturbing feeling out of his head. When he did, he met Snape's amused look.

"You asked, Potter," Snape said rather pleased with himself. "Now ask your last question."

"When I was in your quarters, I overheard you and Professor Sinistra discussing something. What is it that she wanted you to tell me, Snape?"

"Merlin, you're like talking to Binns, Potter," Snape drawled before sighing. "What do you think? After all, we've only been talking about it for the past half-hour."

"Then you were only going to tell me that you served the dark wizard that killed my parents?"

"I believe she also hoped that I informed you that I knew your parents when growing up and that I was friends with your mother. She might have also liked me to inform you that I protect you. Quite honestly, there are numerous things that Sinistra wishes me to tell you, Potter."

"Oh," replied Harry quietly.

"She has conjured this idea up in her head that at some point in time I will become a mentor to you. I can surely teach you Defense, but I cannot be anything more than your teacher, Potter."

"Why?"

"Yes, well, in case it has escaped your notice, Potter, I am not the star teacher here at Hogwarts. I remain here as per Dumbledore's request, not because I wish to be here."

"Then you don't like teaching?"

"Quite honestly, I find you all to be horrid little brats, Potter."

"Oh."

"It is not as if you wish me to become your mentor in any case. Frankly, you and I do not get along. Mostly due to my hatred towards your father which I regretfully act on when we are together. There is also the fact that I have quite the temper and other than Aurora, you bring the worst out in me. Then there is that little known fact that we do not trust each other." Snape then sighed as he glanced at Harry. His anger instantly took over. "Dammit, you do, don't you? You trust me now! Dammit, Potter!" growled Snape. He then whirled around and stormed towards the door before whirling around. "Fine, Potter, when that damn voice asks you again if you trust me, tell it you do, and see if it laughs. I know I would if I were it. Hell, I don't even trust myself." He then grumpily shook his head before storming out of the room. The door slammed shut behind him. "DAMMIT!"

Harry sighed heavily as he glanced around the room. He hadn't heard anything from Snape or Professor Sinistra since they went to bed. So far, he hadn't heard anything from the strange voice. While that fact made him immensely happy, it was also saddening. He wanted to know what the voice was and why only he heard it. If it was a snake, he wasn't sure if he would be happy. At least he'd know, though. The only problem was he was alone. He sighed for the tenth time in five minutes.

"I'm not going crazy," Harry said aloud. "I know I'm not. I'm sane."

"Yes, dear, keep telling yourself that," the familiar voice replied amusedly.

"You're back!" Harry loudly announced. He then glanced around to see if he could see what the voice was. He didn't get a reply, but he guessed he wouldn't. "Um…are you a snake?" Quiet laughter echoed around the room.

"Is that what you believe, Mr. Potter? Do you believe I'm a snake?"

"Honestly, I don't know." Harry then sighed softly. "I'd like to know, though."

"So you'd inform Severus?"

"No." The voice scoffed in response. "No really. I just want to know. I mean, my options are that I'm either crazy or I'm talking to a snake. Either way, it's not very good for me."

"Then breathe a sigh of relief for I am neither, Mr. Potter."

"Then what are you?" Harry heard a soft sigh before he noticed an outline of a person. His mouth hung open instantly when he watched a woman who looked to be in her late twenties walk into the soft light of the candles. The woman's soft blond curls bounced on her bare shoulders. "You're a…a…but Snape said…"

"His wards do not take into consideration the dead, Mr. Potter."

"You're dead?" Harry quickly glanced towards the shut door. The feeling of uneasiness had returned. "Um…can…can they hear us?"

"No, but do not concern yourself, Mr. Potter. I'm not here to hurt you." The woman then folded her arms across her rich green dress. "I believe you have an answer for me now?"

"Um…sure, yeah, I mean, yes, ma'am, I do."

"Well, do you trust Severus Snape with your life?" Her piercing green eyes cut deep into him.

"I do," Harry replied. "I trust him with my life."

"Excellent, Mr. Potter. I must say that I am impressed that you changed your mind so quickly. It is rather nice when someone shares things with you, isn't it? Treats you like a human instead of how the Dursleys treat you?"

"Who…who are you?"

"I am Syrene," the woman replied before smiling pleasantly. "You would not know me nor would Severus. You wonder why I am here, don't you, Mr. Potter?"

"Yes, ma'am," he replied quietly.

"I am here because my granddaughter is worried about you. Do you know why she is worried, Mr. Potter?" Harry shook his head. "She's worried for the same reason I am. You travel a difficult road and while it is necessary, I believe you can alter your path and still achieve the goal."

"The goal?" asked Harry.

"Yes, Mr. Potter, the goal, which you will learn by the end of this term. Terrible events will take place in the coming years here and trusting Severus with your life will ensure you are safe. However, there is no need for you to suffer in silence."

"I don't…I don't understand."

"Not yet, Mr. Potter, but you will. Since I have no doubt you will inform Severus all about our conversation, I believe you should tell him this. The poison used on you came from the Forbidden Forest. The same one who has been killing the unicorns poisoned you. You may inform him also that his instinct is correct."

"Would you like me to tell him anything else for you?"

"Do not flatter me with lowering yourself to an owl's status, Mr. Potter. The message you have is all that you will need." The woman then drew in a deep breath. "Your blood is strong, Mr. Potter, strong as Severus's. We shall meet again before your test." She then stepped back into the darkness and left.

Harry sat in bed staring at the closed door. He had been sitting there alone for nearly five minutes trying to decide if he should get out of bed and speak to Snape or not. Biting his lower lip slightly, he quietly sighed.

If I wake Snape up, he's going to kill me, but he needs to know. Okay…let's just…um…I have to wake him. I'm a Gryffindor. I can do this. I can wake him up. Harry then slowly got out of bed. He silently snuck towards the door. His hand gently touched the doorknob before a sudden thought popped into his head. What if he and Sinistra are—YUCK! He shook his head to get that lovely image out. Yuck, why did I think of that? He then whimpered as he heard the familiar hiss of hatred that could come only from his aunt and uncle. Even though he knew in all actuality they were in Surrey, the hiss sounded as if they were right there in the room with him. Those sounds immediately sent him into a panic attack.

They're here, Harry thought. They're here at Hogwarts. At Hogwarts—because he knows—he knows what I was thinking—they're going to—NO—Snape protects me—they can't hurt me with him here, right? RIGHT! They can't hurt me as long as I'm here—here at Hogwarts—safe and sound—Snape protects me—me…me the freak—NO! I'm not a freak. I can't be a freak. There's lots of us here who can do magic. I'm not a freak. I'm not. I can't be. I can't be a freak. They're wrong—all of them—I'm not—I'm…I'm just Harry—yes—just Harry—not freak—not…not that…I'm Harry—I am Harry—Harry James Potter—Harry. I am Harry, not freak.

As he glanced about the room wildly, Harry felt the air in his lungs stop and settle heavily in his chest. The darkness felt like it was creeping in, taking him piece by piece to the depths of hell. He couldn't fight it because every thought of truth mixed with lies until soon only lies remained. It barely even registered when he slid down the wall and drew his knees to his chest. He could hear the pounding sounds that sounded so similar to Uncle Vernon's footsteps that Harry's heart raced even faster.

I'm going to die tonight—I'm going to die—I'm going to—I'm going—I'm—perhaps the end's good—I'll see Mum and Dad—Snape—he'll die because of me—like them—everyone I love…dies His eyes hid behind his long eyelashes as the traitorous tears stung. I…I…I don't want to die.

"What in the Nine Hells?" a loud booming voice said slashing the silence to pieces. "Potter, what are you doing? Get up, you idiot boy. Get up!" The tone wasn't biting or harsh, just firm and calm. This was lost on the poor little Lion, though.

A hand then grabbed onto Harry's small arm before trying to pull him up on his feet. However, the young Gryffindor's instincts quickly took over and he threw out his arm to protect himself. He didn't want Uncle Vernon to hurt him, not now. He'd wake Snape up.

The hand instantly removed itself from Harry's arm and the foreboding presence vanished. Harry couldn't feel anyone near him anymore, which made him release a shaky breath. He'd later pay for that one dearly. He knew it. There was no way Uncle Vernon would release him that quickly without Harry unleashing a bit of uncontrolled magic. He just about went to cast Lumos to see how badly he injured his uncle when the candles around the room suddenly flickered with life. As soon as the light flooded the room and Harry's eyes rested on the man standing in front of him, his small body trembled with fear.

"I…I…I didn't…" Harry stuttered out.

The man in front of Harry didn't reply, though. He only stared at Harry with an indescribable look on his face. His dark eyes rested calmly on the young boy before releasing a controlled breath. When the man raised his arm, Harry instinctively flinched away. The man's arm instantly halted before his eyes narrowed even more on the pitiful young child.

"Who is it you see, Potter?" The voice was soft but firm. It demanded Harry's response.

"Uncle," Harry whimpered back quietly.

"Your uncle…?" the voice asked. "Potter, it is only the two of us in here." The man then sighed heavily. "Would you be all right if I examined you to see if your fever's returned?"

The man's words slowly filtered into Harry's ears, which made Harry confused. The man didn't sound like Uncle Vernon. The fogginess from the aftereffects slowly lifted and the man's face soon became recognizable to Harry. The young boy's eyes quickly widened as he found himself staring face to face with Snape. His mouth dropped. He had thought Snape was Vernon, but that was absurd.

"I'm sorry, sir. I…I didn't—"

"Do not concern yourself, Potter," Snape gruffly replied as he waved his wand over him. Two seconds later, he sighed and shook his head. "You are not suffering from a fever, which only leads me to believe that the poison must have destabilized your mental stability."

"But I'm not crazy, Snape."

"Then why is it you believed me to be your uncle, Potter?" Snape wasn't expecting an answer, which was good since he didn't receive one. Shaking his head, he observed the boy for a few moments. "What were you thinking about before you imagined your uncle here?" His tone was calm with a hint of compassion added.

"It…well…it doesn't matter, sir."

"On the contrary, it does. Something triggered you to hallucinate that your uncle was here, and it is my job to discern that reason. Since there is no poison or any other drugs in your system, you lead me to believe the event was brought on by some sort of psychological reason. Now, Mr. Potter, what was it that you were thinking prior to imagining that your uncle was here?" Snape growled inwardly when Harry refused to answer. "Mr. Potter, if you do not vocally respond, I will be forced to use other means to learn the truth." That got a response.

"I was thinking about you and Sinistra," Harry blurted out, which made Snape close his eyes and groan loudly.

"In what context?" Snape asked with a painful look on his face.

"I…um…I was going to wake you up and I knew that I didn't want to because you'd get mad and then I thought about…well…um…if I caught you two…" Harry's eyes then darted to the wall. "You know…like…um…together."

"Seeing as how she is in her quarters and I am with you, that would not be an issue, Potter," Snape calmly replied. It was taking every bit of self-control for him not to be yelling at the boy for being so ridiculous. "I must admit that I am rather confused, Potter. How did those innocent thoughts of yours end up sending you into a moment of insanity?"

"I…I'd rather not say, sir."

"Well, I'd rather not be having this conversation with you, Potter, and yet I am," Snape growled before sighing heavily. His temper temporarily succeeded for half a second. "You have already admitted that you were thinking distasteful thoughts about your professors, Potter. Surely it couldn't be much worse than that."

Harry glanced down at his bare feet. He was biting his lower lip to keep from blurting out the word of pure hatred that his so-called loving family nicknamed him. He knew that if Snape pushed just a bit more, the words would tumble out, but he'd keep it hidden just awhile longer. He couldn't tell Snape that bit of his life, not yet.

"Potter, I do not like to be kept waiting as you know."

"Freak," Harry responded in a hissing tone. It was worthy to be an exact replica of whenever Vernon and Petunia Dursley snarled it towards him.

"Excuse me?" Snape growled angrily. "I will not be spoken—"

"That's what I was thinking about," Harry quietly whispered. "How I am a freak."

"What?" Harry's words instantly sucked all the anger and air from Snape. "Who calls you that?"

"Dursleys," said the young boy who was desperately trying to blend in with his surroundings.

"Then they are goddamn idiots, Potter, as you are for believing such filth. I do not see how you, the son of Lily and James Potter, could ever be that monstrosity. You are a wizard, Mr. Potter, who exhibits powerful magic when casting. There is nothing abnormal about you."

"My scar," Harry replied softly.

"We all have scars, Mr. Potter. Your scar is just the result of a dreadful curse that luckily failed. We should all wish we were as lucky as you were to survive unharmed. Other than the scar I mean." Snape then shook his head. "They call you this?" He watched Harry nod. "I take it then that when I went to pull you up, you then relied on your instinct to fight off whom you believed to be your uncle at the time?" Again, there was that same curt nod. "He strikes you?" Another nod before Harry glanced at him. "Those Muggles are the freaks, Potter, not you or I." He could tell by the look on the boy's face that he didn't believe him, but he didn't expect Harry to yet. "Why did you wish to wake me?"

"I…um…I heard and then saw the voice."

"And…? Was it a snake?"

"No. It was a woman. She…um…wanted me to tell you that your instinct is correct and that whoever poisoned me has been killing unicorns also." Harry instantly noticed the change in Snape's demeanor. "Is something wrong?"

"Of course not," Snape drawled. "She told you this? Did she happen to give you her name by chance?" When he saw Harry nod, he felt a slight tug at his lips.

"Syrene," replied Harry. The hidden smile fell instantly. "Do you know her?"

"The name is unfamiliar to me."

"She said that your alarms can't tell she's here because she's…well…she's dead."

"Dead…?" Snape responded. "She's a ghost then?"

"She didn't look like any of the ghosts here," Harry admitted quietly. "Plus, she looked solid."

Snape felt a knot in his stomach as a theory sprang up. He stared at the boy before shaking his head to ignore the voice in the back of his mind. The boy looked fine, but looks could be deceiving.

"I take it that there was more to the conversation than just that?"

"Yeah, she said that…um…her granddaughter is worried about me because I walk a bad path."

"Did she hint at who this granddaughter was?"

"No, but um…she looked like she was in her twenties, though."

"What else did she say?" His theory was beginning to look correct, unfortunately.

"Um…something about my blood being strong as yours," Harry replied.

"Oh, dammit," Snape muttered as he glanced down at the ground.

"Is something wrong, sir?"

"Did she touch you at all?" Snape watched Harry shake his head. "It seems, Mr. Potter, that you possibly had your first encounter with a vampire." The boy's mouth dropped. "It is no wonder you are experiencing unsettling dreams. I shall strengthen the wards. In the meantime, sleep. We will speak more in the morning." Harry only stared. "I am not planning on leaving you tonight, Potter, so sleep."

Harry sighed heavily as he sat at the island in Snape's kitchen. He was picking at his breakfast, which was good but Harry just wasn't hungry so the food remained untouched. He could feel Snape glaring at him through the Daily Prophet as the man sat across from him reading. He was waiting for Snape to say something about it, but the man only kept reading. He then sighed again.

"Potter, if you sigh one more goddamn time, I'm going smack you with this paper," Snape growled from behind the propped up paper.

"Awe, isn't that sweet? My boys are getting along. Good morning, Harry."

"Morning, Professor Sinistra," Harry instantly replied before glancing towards his Astronomy professor. She was wearing silver robes with green trimming. She had tied the majority of her long dark frizzy hair back except for the strands accentuating her face. He had to admit that she looked stunning.

"How'd you sleep?"

"All right, Professor, and you?" he asked before taking a sip of his pumpkin juice. He immediately heard the soft snort behind the paper, which made him glance towards Snape.

"Pay no attention to him, Harry. He's just jealous."

"Of you and Potter, oh yes, Sinistra, that must be it," Snape drawled before lowering the paper. "After all, looking at you both now, you two would make an adorable couple."

"Excuse me? Did Severus Snape, git of the dungeons, just say the word 'adorable'? Oh my, I must be hearing things now," she mocked before laughing. "So, no voices then last night?" she asked a few seconds later.

"Um…yeah, I actually saw her last night."

"Her…? So it's not a snake then, well, all right then, who is she?"

"It appears as if Mr. Potter met his first vampire."

"Vampire…? In Hogwarts…?" she exclaimed. She then shook her head in disbelief. "I take it you've strengthened the wards, Severus?"

"Of course," he replied. He opened his mouth to continue when a man in a portrait interrupted.

"Severus, Albus wishes your presence in his office this morning," Salazar Slytherin announced. His eyes then noticed the young man across from the Head of Slytherin. "And what is this Gryffindor doing here in your quarters nonetheless?"

"I am in charge of him at the moment, Salazar," Snape calmly replied. "You may tell Albus I will be there shortly."

"Of course," Salazar responded. He, however, didn't leave right away.

"So do we know her name?" Professor Sinistra asked ignoring the Founder's presence.

"Um…yeah, she said it was Syrene." Salazar instantly gasped, which only Snape noticed, while Professor Sinistra's eyes narrowed on Harry. "Professor, is something wrong?"

"No, it's just…I…I feel like I know that name." She then shook her head softly. "Huh, maybe it'll hit me later how I know it. Did she say anything else by chance?"

"Something about her granddaughter being worried about me," Harry answered quietly.

"Well, maybe the granddaughter's the way to go then. Have either of you checked the tapestries in the library? It might have something about this woman in there," Professor Sinistra said.

"I doubt that," Salazar muttered in his portrait.

"Oh and why do you doubt that, Salazar?" drawled Snape as he folded his arms across his chest.

"Living true to your nickname I see," the Founder grumbled.

"Indeed, what do you know about her?"

"I'm afraid that I can't reveal anything, Severus," the Founder quietly replied.

"Why can't you?"

"Because it was my biggest mistake and I do not wish anyone to know of it."

"Speak, Salazar, or you will find yourself in Myrtle's lavatory again," Snape growled.

"Okay, okay, well, she's—was my mistress."

"Your mistress…?"

"Yes, and don't look at me like that. You may believe that we Founders had no faults, but it is incorrect. My affair with her is partly the reason why Gryffindor and I did not get along. He warned me, but I did not pay attention. She was intriguing and appeared to be the perfect specimen of a pureblooded witch. Little did I know she was only perfect because she was vampire," he grumbled. "If my wife had ever learned of the truth, well, I'd be deader than I am now."

"So then you know who her granddaughter is because it is probably your granddaughter also?"

"Of course I do, but if she hasn't realized that she's my granddaughter yet, who am I to tell her?"

"Is she at Hogwarts?"

"Yes," Salazar replied sardonically.

"Is she a student or professor?"

"Oh, dear Merlin, are you honestly going to ask me these ridiculous questions, Aurora?" Salazar growled as he glared at her. "Yes, she is here at Hogwarts. She has been since the Sorting Hat sorted her into Slytherin in 1972. She is a professor. And quite honestly, she seems to be acting beyond all stupidity right now as she talks to me, which makes me wish she wasn't my granddaughter!"

"WHAT?" Harry, Snape, and Professor Sinistra yelled.

"I can't—you can't be," she whispered.

"Oh, is that right?" Salazar mocked. "Your mother's name is Syra. Well, how did I do?" Aurora opened her mouth to ask something, but he cut her off. "Must I paint this bloody picture?"

"No, it's just…um…the Gaunts are related to you, not me."

"Yes, well, can't be going around bragging that there's a direct descendent of Salazar Slytherin walking around that isn't inbred," he growled. "What'd you think that amulet around your neck meant?"

"We all heard about your locket, though, not an amulet."

"Your grandmother gave me the amulet. She said it protected her, which considering what I saw proved it worked. After your mother was born, she infused my magic into it so that we would protect the line from ones who wished us ill. I couldn't recognize Syra as my daughter so I ensured that the line didn't trace back to me through the timeline, and it worked. No one ever learned of the secret line of Slytherin. They learned of Syrene being a vampire, yes, but the idiots never saw reason to check the bloodline to trace it to me. You, Aurora Sinistra, are my granddaughter." Deadly silence echoed.

"Aren't you missing a couple of greats there?" asked Harry. "I mean, didn't you live like over a thousand or so years ago? That would mean Professor Sinistra is at least—"

"That's quite enough, Mr. Potter," Snape interrupted before glancing towards Sinistra.

"Don't look at me like that. I was born in 1961. I know I was."

"Well, then how is it possible for her to be the granddaughter of a Founder?"

"Syrene was a vampire," Salazar responded. "Let us not forget that quaint fact."

"But that would mean that…oh…"

"Oh, what?" asked Snape.

"You're stating that my mother is probably like Syrene then, which would then make me—Oh GOD NO! I can't be a vampire! I mean, I've been around blood before and I don't have this insatiable quench to drink it. Hell, I don't even try to bite him when we're—"

"Sinistra!" yelled Snape before giving a pointed look at the ghostly Gryffindor.

"Oh, yeah, um…sorry, but I can't be a vampire. You know, I've even been known on occasion to go outside in the sun."

"It's because you're not thirty-five yet," Salazar answered rather annoyed.

"No I'm not thirty-five yet. I'm thirty. What does that have to do with anything?"

"The protection your grandmother and I placed on your mother made it so that when she turned thirty-five, the desire would awaken. It seems it carried over to you."

"But that means I've only got five years before I—"

"Get your fangs, yes," Salazar replied. "As I said before, I could not allow anyone to know back then that I had consorted with a vampire so Syrene and I decided to protect the line."

"How…?"

"Yes, well, as you know, Severus, potions work wonders. With Syrene being immortal, she could continuously dose Syra until the right time, which in this case was when the spell I casted on the quill in the Quill Room ended."

"But she'd still age."

"Not with the protections we placed on her," Salazar proudly announced. "After all, Syrene is a bright witch in her own right. In fact, your grandmother knew Merlin and spoke very highly of him. He taught her a couple of spells actually. One of which we used to make sure that Syra didn't age."

"Does my mother know?"

"That she is my daughter? Or that her mother is a vampire?" he asked politely.

"Both," she replied.

"She knows she's my daughter and of Syrene. I believe Syra meant to inform you before your thirty-fifth birthday. After all, you'll get sick as your body acclimates to the changes."

"So you both kept dosing her with a potion so no one ever knew? You didn't even claim her?"

"I claimed her when she was in Slytherin. She knew then, and we had frequent conversations while she attended school here."

"Wait a moment. So if Syrene is a vampire from like ages ago, then why is she speaking only to me now? I mean, couldn't she just appear out of air and tell us all what's going on?"

"Syrene was always an observer. It is the nature of vampires. Something I learned while being with her. They learn quickly what motivates a person and then extort it to get their way."

"Oh," Harry replied. "But why is she talking to me, though? I'm not that interesting."

"Innocence, Mr. Potter," Snape responded. "Vampires feed on innocence."

"I thought it was blood, sir." Harry instantly glanced at the floor when he heard Snape's loud groan of annoyance. "I'm sorry, sir."

"It is blood, Potter, but innocence is a way they can prey on people in order to get the blood."

"Oh, I see, sir. Thank you. So then she probably knows who poisoned me?"

"Most likely, however, I also have my suspicions, which she says are correct."

"Oh, so who was it then, sir?"

"Never mind, Potter," Snape growled before glancing towards Sinistra. "I need to speak with Quirrell. Watch him." He then glanced at Harry and leveled a warning glare before leaving.

"So," Harry quietly said before he glanced towards Professor Sinistra.

"If you're expecting me to bite you, Mr. Potter, you'll be disappointed."

"It's just he made it seem like you aren't going to age after thirty-five so isn't it like your mum?"

"I haven't seen her in years. In fact, the last time I saw her was my Hogwarts graduation."

"Oh, you and your mum don't get along?"

"That's to put it mildly," she snorted harshly. "My mother believes in one thing, and that is that I am to carry on the family line by marrying a pureblood. My future husband must also be a Slytherin."

"Well, doesn't Snape fit that category?"

"Slytherin yes, pureblood no," she answered. "There is also the fact that he served Voldemort."

"Your mum's against him?"

"Yes, but now it seems as if the only reason she was against him was because he was killing off her food supply. At the time when I was growing up, I had thought her views were for the greater good. Now, I am not so sure that was her reasoning."

"It must hurt not to be near your family."

"Do not misunderstand me, Harry. I do write my family for every birthday and holiday. We still communicate occasionally. I just refuse to see my mother."

"Oh, still…I mean, I'd do anything to be able to write my family."

"Yes, I know you would, Harry. However, if you ever meet my mother, you too would refuse to see her. She is by far the worst woman in the history of the world. If she knew about Severus and me, she would march down here and hex me to pieces just because I was not following her stupid rules. I do love her, Harry. Make no mistake about that. It's just that I cannot stand to hear her gripping about the fact that I am unmarried."

"Well, maybe you and Snape should get married. She wouldn't have a reason to complain then."

"Unfortunately, Severus has some rather large commitment issues he needs to work out before we can ever try to marry. Now, eat your breakfast before the grumpy old bat returns," she said laughing.

Around eleven at night, Harry sighed again. Snape hadn't returned yet, and Professor Sinistra was reading a big black book. She didn't seem to be worried in the slightest, which he couldn't understand. He glanced around for what seemed to be the hundredth time. There was nothing to do, and for an eleven year old, it only meant one thing, trouble. He glanced at his Astronomy professor before shaking his head. She wasn't paying attention to him in the slightest.

Finally making up his mind, he took one last fleeting glance at Professor Sinistra before standing up. He thought that would at least get a reaction, but it didn't. She only continued to read her book. Well, if she's not going to look for him, I will. He could be lying somewhere dead. Wait. What happens if he is dead? Stupid, so stupid, Harry, he chastised himself. Snape's not dead, but you know you have to see him. After all, he does protect you, and Sinistra's definitely not doing a real great job there. He glanced at her one last time before quietly slipping out of Snape's quarters.

The dungeon corridors were dark and gloomy as always, but there was a sinister presence lingering around now, too. Harry glanced up and down the hallway in order to make sure Malfoy or any of his other goons weren't out. When he was sure they weren't, he quickly took off towards the DADA classroom. It took him at least ten minutes to get there, but he didn't see or hear anyone. In fact, it was as if the entire castle was empty.

Hmm…where could Snape be? He's not in the dungeons and not in the DADA classroom. There's no reason for him to be in the Great Hall so where could he be? Maybe he's talking to Dumbledore, but then why would he? Unless he's telling Dumbledore about the Dursleys…oh…I could maybe live with Snape all the time then. Huh, that's not as bad as I thought it would be, but would Ron and Hermione even still want to be friends with me? It's not as if Snape likes me, though. He just tolerates me. Great, even Snape doesn't want me, Harry thought depressingly.

"Of course he wants you, Harry," a voice said behind Harry. "You have your mother's eyes."

"Syrene," Harry cried before whirling around. "You're Professor Sinistra's grandmother!"

"What a smart little Gryffindor you are, Harry," replied Syrene with a soft smile. "What else?"

"You're also a vampire."

"Are you scared then?"

"A little, but you're Professor Sinistra's grandmother."

"Which means what exactly, Harry?"

"You won't hurt me because I think she's like you." Syrene laughed softly before shaking her head slowly. It started to make Harry a bit uncomfortable. Maybe talking to Syrene wasn't such a good idea on his part. After all, his protector was god knows where.

"I assure you that she is very much unlike me, Harry. Now, you two are progressing rather well by my account. You've developed feelings of affection for Severus, which is rather good to have. Those feelings are your lifeline, so hold onto them."

"Do you know where he is?"

"Yes, and so do you, Harry," she replied with a pleasant smile.

"Third floor corridor," he said quietly. He didn't need her to answer because he already knew he was right. He sighed softly. "Is he hurt?"

"Yes."

"Like bad?" he asked.

"Well, it's no paper cut by any means, Mr. Potter. Oh, but I shouldn't tell you this, though. After all, you are a Gryffindor, and everyone knows what fools Gryffindors are."

Harry couldn't wait any longer. Ignoring his gut instinct, he dashed off towards the moving staircases to reach the third floor corridor. It didn't take him long to get to the locked room. Concentrating on remembering Hermione's wand movements from their accidental time, he casted the unlocking charm. He smiled widely when the door unlocked on the first try. He quickly entered the room and suddenly took a deep breath. The massive three-headed dog was asleep, and next to it was an opened trapdoor. Wasting no time, he rushed over to it. After all, his happiness was at stake.

Falling into the giant pit of creepy plants moving about him, Harry tried his best to keep his cool. He didn't really know how he knew it, but it felt as if he had done all of this before. Soon afterwards, the plant allowed him to slip through unharmed. After hitting the ground hard, he quickly dashed off to another room. His eyes widened at the sight of hundreds of flying keys. It definitely felt like déjà vu now. He found the key he was looking for so he grabbed the broomstick and flew towards it to catch it.

"If I'm right, the next challenge is a chessboard," Harry mused aloud. He didn't really understand why everything felt so familiar to him. However, he wasn't necessarily complaining. He needed to get to Snape as soon as possible and if his cool gift could do that, then he was all for it. When he entered the next room, his eyes narrowed. Sure enough, there was the chessboard. However, all of the pieces were shattered into millions of little pieces already. He glanced around to make sure it wasn't a trick before running as fast as he could towards the next room.

Upon entering the room, Harry's instincts instantly took over. He drew his long Holly wand and casted a spell that he knew he hadn't learned yet. When the massive mountain troll crashed down onto the floor with a resounding thump, Harry's mouth dropped. Something extremely strange was going on, and he wasn't sure if he wanted to know the answer. He quietly and hesitantly walked to the next room.

As soon as he crossed the threshold, the doorways burst into flames. Harry closed his eyes and allowed his instincts to work again. His hand quickly grabbed the potion nearest to him. He didn't even look at it before he drank it. He then walked timidly towards the flaming doorway, which permitted him instantly. A soft whimper escaped Harry's lips. This was too unreal. It felt as if someone else was controlling him, someone who knew everything that would happen.

"Syrene," Harry whispered. He received no reply, though. Instead, something or someone pushed him into the next room. He stumbled onto the staircase before falling. He groaned immediately as his side crashed against the steps. It wasn't an entrance to be proud of, but he later was glad for it. Dozens or so spells shot towards him, but missed him by half an inch each time because of his fall.

As Harry rolled and ducked while more spells headed his way, he quickly saw Snape lying on the floor. Blood had pooled around the man, but he appeared to be alive at least. That was for not at least. Harry quickly sent spells that were much beyond his level of casting. He couldn't even recognize the spells. He then felt someone lightly touch his back, which made him stiffen instantly.

"Do not fight me, Harry. You are safe," the air around him seemed to whisper.

"Syrene," he replied. His eyes then noticed the floating figure. "No, it should be Quirrell, not you!" he yelled. "It should be Quirrell!"

"Yes, one would wonder, wouldn't they, Mr. Potter? Just like your father, you are."

"No. This isn't right. It should be Quirrell."

"Oh, it was once before, Mr. Potter, but I found a better host." Sinister laughter then echoed throughout the large room. "After all, who'd ever suspect Professor Binns?" The etherealness slowly left, leaving behind a dark robed figure. "Tell me, Mr. Potter. Don't you just love magic?"

"You're…you're the one who killed my parents."

"I killed one of your parents. The other lies dying on the floor."

Harry's eyes darted towards Snape. He couldn't be…he looked like James. How…Harry then glanced back to the dark robed figure. His eyes narrowed. Something was wrong. This wasn't right. He was the son of James and Lily Potter, not Lily and Snape, wasn't he?

"You changed something, didn't you?"

"Not I, Mr. Potter," replied the black-clad figure. The dark wizard then chuckled loudly. "I must admit that it is more fun this time around. After all, I know my mistakes, and I assure you that I won't make them a second time. Until we see each other again, Harry," he said bowing his head. "Oh, and do tell your dear sweet Daddy Severus that I'll be seeing him soon too. After all, you can only change so much without distorting the timeline." The evil wizard then burst into flames before vanishing.

"This isn't right," Harry whispered with a whimper. However, he quickly pushed his thoughts aside and rushed towards Snape's side. The older wizard was barely breathing, and blood covered every part of him. The young Gryffindor closed his eyes and concentrated on the Infirmary, which he knew they needed to be. A deafening roar echoed in his head before a loud pop. When he reopened his eyes a few seconds later, he gulped. Sure enough, Harry and Snape were now in the Infirmary. It wasn't possible. There was no way any of this was possible. Something was wrong here. Something was very wrong, and he had a feeling it wasn't over with yet.

A few hours later, Harry sat on a cot taking brief glances at Snape. He couldn't understand how he had known any of the safeguards the teachers had placed on the room. When he watched the headmaster somberly walk in, Harry gulped. He could only imagine how much trouble he'd be in now.

"I'm sorry, Professor," Harry quickly said.

"Nothing to apologize for, my dear boy," the headmaster replied while he stared at Snape. His blue eyes wandered over the black clad wizard before sighing. "How is he?"

"I don't know, sir. Madam Pomfrey won't tell me anything, but she's been talking to Professor Sinistra for nearly an hour."

"I see," the headmaster responded. He then glanced at Harry. "You must forgive me, Harry, but I must admit that I am a bit confused."

"So am I, sir," Harry answered quietly. "I honestly don't know how I knew what to do when I was down there. It just came to me."

"Instinctual magic…ah, it is rather rare to see, but it worked in this case. Did anything else odd happen while down there?"

"Well, I don't know how to describe it, but…I think…well…I think I saw him."

"Forgive me, but I do not understand, Harry."

"The one who gave me the scar," Harry whispered back.

"Ah, I see, and what was it you saw?"

"Well, it was Professor Binns, but that's not right, though. I don't know how to describe it, sir, but I know that it should have been Professor Quirrell down there, not Professor Binns." Harry then sighed heavily. "It was like I had done everything down there. I mean, I even know what he was looking for down there. He wanted the stone, which only a person who'd use the stone for good reasons could get out of that shiny mirror that shows you everything that you want. I don't know how I know it, though." He then closed his eyes. "But that wasn't the only difference, though. He said that Snape was my dad, but…that…that can't be. Can it, Professor?"

"Have you spoken with Madam Pomfrey about this?"

"Yeah, and she's doing some sort of test to see if it's true or not. I thought I was James's son."

"I admit that is my understanding also, Harry."

"What if I am Snape's though? Does that mean he didn't want me?"

"No, Harry. Severus would never disown a child of his willingly. If you are his son, then there is a reason why we did not know it. Did you meet anyone else down there?"

"Yeah, Syrene was down there again. Wait a minute. She might know why. We could ask her."

"Unfortunately, she only visits you, Harry."

"I'll ask her then what's going on when I see her because this is all wrong, sir."

"I agree, my boy." Dumbledore then drew in a deep breath. "I shall see what Madam Pomfrey is telling Aurora. Will you be all right if I left you alone?" Harry nodded fiercely. "I shall see you soon." He walked away quietly, leaving Harry along again.

"This isn't right. Snape wasn't supposed to be there, and it wasn't supposed to be Binns. Someone changed something, but why would anyone do that?" the young boy asked aloud.

"To prevent a slaughter," a familiar voice replied.

"Syrene," Harry said as he glanced towards the young witch. "Did you know about this?"

"That the timeline has been changed? Oh, yes, Harry. I know about this."

"Because you changed it?" he asked.

"It wasn't me, Harry." She then glanced towards Snape. "He absolutely loved you, but he couldn't bear to have you harmed."

"Snape did this?" Harry squawked indignantly.

"Oh, yes, Severus did this so you'd have a fighting chance. You see, Harry, in the actual timeline, you'd only experience darker events with each progressing year. Now, with this new line, you already know the darker events and can prevent them. However, it seems as if Riddle has learned of this, though. Perhaps it is time to throw him worm so that he may catch himself on the hook. Do not concern yourself over the differences. Embrace them. They are your true instincts. I shall see you soon, Harry."

"I know that you don't believe me and all that junk, but she said that you changed the timeline. Well, I told Madam Pomfrey what Syrene said, and she took some of my blood. She was taking some tests to see if it was true, and I guess what I'm trying to ask here is if you think it's true." Harry stared at Snape before sucking in a deep breath. "Do you think you're my father?"

"I fail to see the point in this quaint exercise of yours, Mr. Potter."

"Well, it's just that she said it so I was just wondering if you believed it."

"I do not. I was never intimate with your mother, and I believe I would remember if I was."

"But she said you changed something, so maybe you haven't changed it yet."

"Or perhaps she is not as trustworthy as she seems, Mr. Potter. Do remember that she is a vampire so she will say anything to get her way."

"Yeah, and this whole thing started because I thought you were a vampire," Harry scoffed.

"Since I have yet to hear your side, I would appreciate it if you recounted how you knew exactly how to disable the protections. You must admit that it is rather hard to believe that an eleven-year-old child would be able to bypass the protections so easily. The theory of time-travel or whatever you believe is rather absurd to believe also since I am not in the possession of a time-turner."

"You could get one of these 'time-tuner' things later in your life and come back to right now. Couldn't you?" Snape nodded once.

"I could, but what would the point be, Mr. Potter? In case you've failed to notice, these years of mine are not exactly the greatest."

"Well, no, but you could, though."

"This is absurd. I am not your father, nor shall you ever consider me your father in the biological sense. If I had changed the past, then I am seriously foolish for doing so since as you mentioned it has made things worse in this reality." Snape then sighed before shaking his head. "I shall speak with the headmaster about your concerns, though. Rest while I am gone." He then briskly walked out of the Infirmary leaving Harry alone again.

A few days later, Harry slowly walked to Gryffindor Tower. Snape hadn't necessarily kicked Harry out of his rooms, but he also didn't make him feel welcome either, though. Harry knew the paternity results were in. The results, in fact, had been in since Harry woke up in the Infirmary. However, the young Gryffindor didn't have it in him to learn the truth. He knew in his heart that he was the son of James and Lily Potter. He'd believe that no matter what the results said.

It wasn't as if Harry felt disgusted if Snape was his father, but he knew that wasn't true. He couldn't begin to explain how he knew it, but he did. Harry would most definitely be happy to know that he did have one living parent. However, in Harry's mind, though, he felt as if he was living a lie believing that or at the very least felt as if he was betraying his parents.

"Hey, Harry," Ron quietly said as soon as Harry walked in. "You all right?"

"No," Harry muttered before joining his best friend on the couch. "It's all different, Ron. I mean, I know it is, but I'm the only one. It should have been Quirrell down there, not Binns." Harry then growled quietly. "It doesn't make sense. She said Snape changed the past, but he claims he'd never do that no matter what. Then you add the stupid fact that he's supposedly my father…"

"What'd Pomfrey say?"

"I don't know. I can't seem to make it over there to find out." Harry glanced at Ron a few seconds later. "I mean, what happens if it is true? Then what happens? It's not like Snape's going to throw his arms around me and act all sappy with me."

"Well, no, but at least you'd know, though."

"Yeah, and I'd probably be even more miserable," Harry mumbled under his breath.

"Probably, but least you'd know you get that from the Snape side," Ron joked.

"Oh, shut up, Ron," Harry growled slightly. "He'd probably ground my ass if I did anything."

"Yeah, he does seem like he'd be one of those hell-copter parents."

Harry couldn't help it. He snorted and laughed at Ron's 'hell-copter' comment. It was rather funny to hear his friend try to use Muggle words. He always misused the words in hilarious ways.

"How about you and I go to the Infirmary and find out if it's true? If it is, then you and I can see if Fred and George will get us some butterbeer from Hogsmeade. They say it's rather good if you ever need to unwind. After all, learning that would cause anyone to drink."

"Nah, that's all right, Ron," replied Harry before he sighed. "I just want to sit here."

"Hey, you do know that we're still here for you, right? Hermione and I will always be here for you. You don't need to go through this alone."

"I know." Harry then glanced at Ron. "Don't get mad or anything, but I'd like to be alone."

"So you can brood in silence?" Ron asked.

"Nah, I just have some thinking to do, and I know I'd be in a terrible mood afterwards."

"See…yet another Snape trait," Ron joked before nodding. "Sure, mate, take the time you need. If you need anything, you know where to find me." Ron then slowly got up off the couch before silently heading upstairs towards the boys' dormitory.

Harry immediately stared at the flickering flames. He desperately wished to head to the Infirmary to find out the truth, but he knew he couldn't. Learning the truth would necessarily change anything. In all actuality, Snape probably wouldn't even try to care for Harry. They weren't enemies anymore, but it wasn't as if they were best friends or anything either. If he were honest, he'd tell himself that they were just starting to become accustomed to one another.

Not long after Ron leaving, Harry fell asleep on the couch. He quickly slipped into a dream that lately he knew from experience always turned into a nightmare. As he woke in the dream world again, he sighed when he recognized the Potions classroom. Dozens of his classmates sat in their seats working feverishly on their potions. However, Harry, on the other hand, was staring down at the blank Potions textbook. He flipped through the book and found it to be entirely blank.

"What are you doing?" Snape hissed as he appeared directly behind Harry in the dream. "We don't have time for this. There is no time in war. You know this." He then shook his head angrily as he glared. "You are the one, the one to defeat the Dark Lord, and you're just sitting here wasting time." Dream Snape then grabbed Harry's shoulders before roughly shaking him. "Wake up! Do not waste this chance. Do not let our sacrifice end in vain. You are the one! Please, Harry. End this before others die. End this, my son, so we may be together as it should be."

Seconds later, Harry woke up gasping for air. The dream had always been the same. Snape always ended it with calling Harry his son. It was maddening for Harry because he couldn't. He couldn't believe it to be true. In his heart, he knew he was James Potter's son. However, there in the dream, he was Snape's, and he could feel the man's anguish and heartache as he addressed Harry. Wiping the traitorous tears that had fallen from his eyes, he drew in a deep breath.

Harry didn't know if the dream was Syrene playing more mind tricks on him or not, but he knew Ron was right. Harry needed to find out if he was Snape's son. If Snape truly changed the past, there had to have been a reason, and Harry was sure it wasn't because he wanted a son. The words 'as it should be' echoed around Harry's mind. Who honestly could say that Harry should be Snape's son?

Would things change if I found out the truth? Would my Snape hate me more or would it stay the same? Dozens of questions flooded Harry's mind. He knew that Snape had loved his mother. Professor Sinistra had told him that one of the days Harry was down in Snape's rooms. Do I want to be Snape's son? How would the Gryffindors react to me being the son of the head of Slytherin House? Would they even consider me a Gryffindor anymore? He had already experienced some Gryffindors who were rather upset that he'd been in Snape's rooms for so long while recovering from being poisoned. Why do I look like James Potter if I am Snape's son? Did my mother charm me when I was a baby to hide the lineage? Why would she do that, though? Harry's eyes then narrowed. He remembered how Syrene informed him that this future Snape changed the timeline to help Harry later in the fight against the evil dark lord. However, why would that Snape change my lineage, though? What possible good could come out of it? Was there a protection in Snape's blood that would transfer to me? The young Gryffindor then sighed. There were too many questions in his mind. He couldn't think clearly. He knew that he would go stir crazy not learning if Snape was his true father in this universe. Harry then flashbacked to the day when he learned Snape protected him. "It does no good for him to know the truth," whispered Snape's voice from that day. It does me no good not to know, either, Snape, Harry thought.

"Mr. Potter," Madam Pomfrey said glancing at him as he walked in. "I was beginning to think you wouldn't ever come in again." She then sighed softly. "I can understand your hesitation, though." Glancing around before glancing back at Harry, she sighed. "Let's go someplace more private. Follow me, Mr. Potter."

Harry did as the medi-witch instructed. He had to admit that his stomach was doing back flips. He still wasn't sure if he really wanted to know the truth about this reality. However, he was sure that not knowing was dangerous. He quickly took a seat in a chair across from Madam Pomfrey's desk.

"I'll make this brief, Mr. Potter." Madam Pomfrey then drew in a deep breath. However, the door to her office bursting open cut her off before she could even say the first word. She instantly stood up and glared at the intruder. "Severus Snape, what are you doing here?" she snippily asked.

"I believe you are about to tell the boy something that concerns me," Snape growled in response. "I have just as much right to be here as the boy does."

"Fine," Madam Pomfrey snapped. "Then shut the door, Professor." As soon as the door closed and Snape took a seat next to Harry, she spoke again. "I've run the tests several times, and the results were the same each time. You are Severus's son, Harry."

"How can that be?" Snape snarled. "I was never intimate with Lily."

"I cannot even begin to imagine how it was possible, but I did find traces of your chromosomes in Harry's DNA structure, Severus. You are his father."

"He is the splitting image of James Potter, Pomfrey!"

"Physically, yes, but underneath all that in his DNA, it all points to you, Severus. You are his father." The medi-witch then glanced towards Harry. "I have heard of instances where witches have used blood magic to conceal the identity of a child they were to give away."

"Could my mum have done that?"

"It is possible, rare, but it is possible, Mr. Potter," Madam Pomfrey replied. "If you'd like, I could perhaps see if I could remove the charm if there is one."

"No," Snape instantly snapped. "You will do no such thing, Pomfrey. That boy is not my son!"

"Well, the test results would beg to differ with you, Severus."

"I do not care what those damn results say, Pomfrey." Snape then angrily yanked Harry to his feet. "Get this through your damn head, Potter. You are not my son! You will never be my son!" He whirled around soon afterwards and stormed out of Madam Pomfrey's office.

"It perhaps might take some time for him to come to terms with it, Harry," she said softly.

"It's all right. I didn't expect anything different," Harry replied with choked back emotions.

"Harry, dear, you deserve better. You know that, right?"

"I deserve a lot of things, Ma'am, but I know I'm never going to get them." Harry then sighed heavily. "At least I know now," he said. "I agree with Snape, though. I know in my heart that I shouldn't be his son. It's all different as I told you before, Madam Pomfrey. This isn't right. None of this is right. I should be the son of James and Lily Potter, not Snape. He has all the reason to be angry with me. I'm the reason someone changed things."

"He still should treat you better, Harry." The medi-witch then fiercely shook her head. "If you permit it, I could have Aurora set him straight. She'd whip him into shape in no time."

"It's all right, Madam," Harry replied with a soft somber smile. "I'll live."

"I know, and that's what is so frightening. A boy your age shouldn't settle for his little temper-tantrum. You deserve a good home, and Severus can provide it. He's just being a stubborn arse about it."

"Professor Sinistra would probably say it's because he has rather large commitment issues," Harry joked. He had to admit that joking with the medi-witch was a lot better than forced to remember Snape's rejection.

"Harry, if you—"

"I'm not going to force him, Madam Pomfrey," Harry replied.

"You are so like your mother. She'd be proud of you if she saw you. All right, then we'll keep it to ourselves then. However, don't be surprised if Aurora doesn't find out. She's part bloodhound." He laughed and nodded. He could definitely see that in his Astronomy professor. "Go on with you."

It had been a month since Harry learned the test results. His relationship with Snape hadn't reached the father-son stage yet, but they weren't at the kill each other stage either. For the entire month, Snape ignored Harry during class. There were no snide remarks about Harry's potions failing, and, boy, did they fail. There were no angry glares in his direction. There was just Snape doing his best to ignore Harry, and Harry didn't expect any different from the wizard.

Harry's mood was as gloomy as the weather. He glanced at the large stained glass windows in the Great Hall and watched the lightning flash. He had to strain to hear it over the loud noise of the other students, but he could hear the rain pelting loudly. It was going to be a terrific day for Quidditch.

"Hey, Mate, all ready to kill Ravenclaw today?" Ron said with a wide grin.

"Sure," Harry replied with little inflection. If he had to admit it, he didn't really feel like playing Quidditch anymore. He couldn't really explain why, though. It just was a bad feeling in his gut he guessed. He then sighed heavily before pushing around more of his breakfast.

"Harry, you're going to do—"

"I know. I know, Hermione. I'm going to be fine because it's in my blood." Harry then glanced towards his best friend. "But it's not really in my blood anymore, is it?" He instantly felt back when the witch glanced towards the floor. "I'm sorry, Hermione. I'm just being a git today."

"Mr. Potter," a cutting voice said behind Harry two seconds later, "A moment of your time?"

"Uh, sure, sir," Harry replied before slowly getting to his feet. He silently followed Snape out of the Great Hall and through a secret passage to their destination. It'd be the first time they spoke since learning the test results that stated that Snape was Harry's father. Harry had to admit that he was rather uneasy with Snape's quietness.

As soon as they reached the Astronomy Tower, the doors to the upper balcony locked behind them, though. Harry knew that they'd be speaking in private, and he had an idea what Snape would say. He watched the brief flutter of emotions on Snape's face. The man seemed to be thinking his words very carefully. Harry could wait until Snape was ready, which didn't seem to be long afterwards.

"I regret my actions in Madam Pomfrey's office. I should not have been so angry with you. Obviously, the news was not something you wished." Snape then sighed. "You must understand, though. As far as I recall, I was never intimate with Lily Evans so the results do not make sense. If I truly did as Syrene suggested and changed the past, I know of no reason why I would do such a thing and interject myself into that role. Your mother made her choice. While I admit I was not enthused by her choice, I would never do anything to risk your mother's happiness." Snape then shook his head slowly before running a hand through his hair. His dark eyes then held his gaze with Harry. "I cannot be what you want me to be, Mr. Potter. I…I have no experience in it. Therefore, I offer my sincerest apologies to you. A child should be with his flesh and blood, but I cannot do so. Continue to believe that James Potter is your father, Potter. With time, it will lessen and you will forget all this."

"I understand," whispered Harry, staring at the floor trying to hide his tears.

"Do not do that, Potter," Snape replied just as equally soft. "You have every right to show your emotions to me. Please do not close yourself off like I do."

"Why do you care?" asked Harry as he glanced at Snape. He was curious for the reply.

"I'm not completely heartless, Potter," Snape answered before running his fingers through his hair again. "While I do not wish to act in the role you wish me to be, I am willing to help you through your journey. As you know, I protect you. It is in my best interest to see you survive."

"So in other words, you won't be cheering for me today, but you will be making sure a bludger doesn't hit me," Harry said with a little laugh. When he saw Snape's curt nod, he felt his chest tighten. He was so close to having what he always dreamed about having. Only Snape didn't want it, though. Harry sighed heavily. He wouldn't force the wizard because he knew no good would come out of that.

"Yes, I will be watching you from the stands this afternoon. However, I cannot interfere with bludgers. It is against the rules for any professor to interfere. Bludgers unfortunately are part of the game and I believe your father thought them to be half the fun."

"Did you play Quidditch when you were at school, sir?"

"One game," Snape replied with a sigh. "It unfortunately was against Gryffindor."

"What happened?"

"Regrettably, I was trying to knock your father off his broom. I did not see the bludger that headed my way until after it struck me in the chest. After that game, I never took the field again."

"Did it hurt?"

"Of course it hurt," growled Snape. He then sighed before shaking his head. "I apologize. I failed to recall that you have yet to start a game. Yes, bludgers hurt, Potter. In fact, the bludger that struck me shattered my breastbone and fractured several ribs. I believe that as a result I had numerous internal injuries. So for a week, the matron at the time confined me to a cot in the Hospital Wing."

Harry winced and gulped back his fear. Oliver hadn't told him any of that. In fact, neither had the Weasley twins told him anything about serious injuries. He felt himself shake from a chill.

"Maybe I should go tell Wood that I quit."

"If you did, you would be forcing Gryffindor to forfeit their game to Ravenclaw," Snape replied. "While the decision rests solely with you, I would not recommend it. As much as it pains me to admit this, it would help you reclaim some of what you lost. Your father loved Quidditch. And from what I have seen in you thus far, you share that interest."

"But I could get hurt," Harry countered.

"Potter, knowing you, you could get hurt walking down the staircases. It would make no difference. Risk follows you around like a Bowtruckle. Quidditch is dangerous, yes. And you will definitely risk injury to yourself any given day, but I would think that it'd be something your foolish Gryffindor side would overcome in order to get to know your father better."

"You'll be watching?"

"Always," Snape replied.

"I guess I can live with it then." Harry then glanced at the sky. The game would be starting soon, and he still wasn't ready. Soon afterwards, he felt a cool tingle against his skin, which made him turn back. Snape's ebony wand was drawn and pointed at him. Glancing down at his clothes, he instantly noticed his Gryffindor Quidditch uniform. He then glanced up at Snape, only to find the man gone.

Harry flew around the stadium frantically trying and failing to find the golden snitch in the pelting downpour. He had to admit that he was rather glad for whatever spell Snape used on his glasses to make sure they didn't fog up or get misty as he flew around. However, the spell unfortunately didn't go for the rest of his body.

The wind had kicked up, which made it impossible for his hood to remain up so he looked like a drowned rat. In fact, he felt like one too. His broom was slick from the rain, and he nearly slid off a dozen or so times in the last hour. He had managed so far to avoid the bludgers, but that nearly became a fulltime job for Harry. It seemed like the things were gunning for him, which he knew was impossible.

When Harry saw the small fluttering snitch, he instantly zoomed off after it. He foolishly focused solely on the snitch and assumed that the Weasley twins would keep the bludgers from him as they had been doing all game. However, had he looked back, he would have seen that lightning had struck one of the twins and sent him into a freefall.

Bam! Harry instantly screamed out from the horrific pain to the side of his head. His hand reached up to touch the sore spot, but everything soon became fuzzy. Soon darkness settled in, and before Harry knew it, he was flying…without a broom…speeding towards the ground…with no protection. However, those thoughts didn't cross the young boy's mind. The only thing that did was the universal ouch followed by other words that probably wouldn't have made sense if he spoke them.

Several successful castings later by the numerous professors in the stands, Harry's unconscious body hit the conjured cushions with a soft landing. The headmaster followed by Harry's head of house was the first to arrive on the field of the Quidditch pitch. Snape and the rest of the professors were next to arrive with Snape leading that pack with his ebony wand already drawn conjuring the stretcher. Not a single professor said a word because each of them was all too shocked.

It seemed like mere moments after reaching the badly injured Gryffindor Seeker that Madam Pomfrey was tending to him in the Infirmary. She expertly transfigured his soaking uniform into a hospital gown. The tray of her medical supplies quickly appeared next to her, and she rapidly started to treat Harry. She first waved her wand over him to see just how bad his injuries really were. Granted, she could see the injuries were bad by the amount of blood already bubbling to the surface. She winced at her diagnostic. He had numerous fractures to his skull and a severe concussion. However, while the others would not take it as good news, the fact that Harry had slipped into a coma was certainly better news than she had thought she'd learn from her diagnostic. She knew that as long as Harry was in his coma, it would protect his higher brain functions while she worked on healing him.

Madam Pomfrey cast her mending charm and grimaced when she heard the cracking from Harry's head near the wound as the bone fragments snapped back in place. It was yet another good reason for him to be in coma. She'd hate to have heard his screams of pain from that. She then cast a rather complex healing spell, which helped stop the gushing blood. Casting another diagnostic, she sighed. She had in fact managed to heal him physically. Mentally, though, she knew it'd be an entirely different story. Harry's brain needed time to heal from the injury, and she'd make sure that occurred. In the meantime, though, she was going to give the lecture of a lifetime to the idiots who thought it would be a good idea to allow Harry to play Quidditch as a first year.

"Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore!" she growled as she trained her wand on him. "Have you lost your mind?" she snarled with a glare. "That boy is eleven years old! Eleven," she yelled emphasizing loudly. "And you thought it was a good idea to allow him to play Quidditch?" With her temper already flaring dangerously, she released a bit of uncontrolled magic, which made several potion bottles explode violently.

"Poppy, control yourself," McGonagall quietly said. The matron's wand instantly went to her.

"And you, Minerva, how could you?" glared Madam Pomfrey. "That boy is just a child! How could you stoop so low and use him like this? He is eleven, Minerva!" She then angrily shook her head. "I reported to you my results from the start of this term. You knew what his home life was like, and how it has affected him physically. And you still thought it'd be a good idea to send an eleven-year-old child out onto that pitch without any experience playing it? You two should be ashamed of yourselves."

"If you believe for a moment that I knew this would happen, then you're sorely mistaken."

"Oh, of course you didn't know, Minerva," the matron snarled. "That's not the point. The point is that there was an exceedingly great chance he'd be injured during a game, and you still sent him."

"I regret that his being out there was my fault, Madam," Snape quietly spoke up. He didn't flinch at all when she whipped her wand at him. However, nor did he react at all. "The boy came to me with concerns, and I had mentioned that it'd get him a chance to understand his father better." The wand instantly lowered, which made Snape sigh.

"You?" the matron replied in disbelief. "Severus, I would expect if from those two, but you? Are you honestly that heartless that you would send your son knowingly—?"

"He is not my son, Madam," Snape responded softly.

"After all this time, Severus, you still dispute the results? I even gave you—"

"No, Madam, I do not dispute what the results state. I do dispute, however, the fact that Potter supposedly is my son. He cannot be my son, Madam. It is not physically possible. At the time of his conception, I would have been deep in the Dark Lord's ranks. There would have been no time for me to have snuck off to become intimate with Lily Evans while also hiding it from Potter Sr."

"So you're saying that without a doubt, you aren't that poor child's father?"

"Yes, Madam, that is exactly what I am saying." Snape then glanced towards Harry. At the sight of the boy not moving, he pushed back the urges to close his eyes and tremble as any normal father would if this happened to his son.

Snape, however, couldn't be a father to Harry. He didn't know how because his only role model of what a father embodies was his own, and that amounted to drinking, yelling, and sometimes beating. He had always promised himself that he'd never hurt his child as his father hurt him so he pushed away temptation. Another reason why he couldn't be Harry's father was that he knew what would happen. He'd lose Harry just as he lost Lily. He wasn't necessarily sure he could deal with that loss a second time. However, here Snape was, standing next to his son's bedside in the Infirmary as the boy slipped deeper and deeper and further and further from him. Perhaps there was a flaw in his reasoning.

Inside Harry's battered mind, he saw images and heard thoughts of various people that didn't make a bit of sense. However, he watched each scene with utter curiosity and an open mind. When he then saw the familiar pale witch that he'd met several times, he knew precisely what he was dreaming. He was seeing the real timeline, not the one he was stuck in now. He sighed as she blended back into the mist, and the first scene appeared.

A younger Severus Snape who was probably about twenty-one stood in the rain staring at an old house that seemed familiar to Harry. The lanky wizard closed his eyes before sucking in a deep breath and walking into the house. Harry naturally followed, wondering what was affecting the usually unsettled man. When the two stopped in a badly damaged room that had only a crib in it, Harry's eyes widened. Snape had come to the house where Voldemort had killed Harry's parents.

"Evening, Severus," a tired Dumbledore spoke as he and McGonagall slowly walked into the room. The older wizard and witch were extremely somber while they took in the sight. "I did not expect to find you here this evening."

Snape didn't respond, though. He only kept his gaze with the spot on the floor in front of the crib. The man looked utterly lost and distraught for some reason. In fact, he appeared to be in his own little world not even registering that Dumbledore and McGonagall were in the room with him.

"Severus," Dumbledore repeated quietly.

"Kill me," Snape whispered. He then glanced towards Dumbledore and McGonagall. His eyes gave away the fact that he had given up on life. "Kill me, Albus. I have no reason to live anymore. Kill me so I can be with her again."

"You know that I will not, Severus," Dumbledore responded with a soft sigh. "The boy still lives, Severus. You can still protect him for her. That can be your reason."

"The boy…? The boy lives, but Lily doesn't?" Snape then angrily punched the wall. "I don't give a damn about the boy, Albus. I want Lily back! I want her alive! I don't care about him!"

"Minerva," Dumbledore quietly said, glancing towards the witch.

"Albus," she responded warningly before motioning towards Snape.

"He must see the child that he cares not for, my dear." A few seconds later, a small house elf popped in holding a small bundle wrapped in a blanket. The house elf quietly walked towards Snape and held the bundle out.

"No," Snape responded fiercely. "I do not care about that damn boy! Get him away from me!"

"Severus," Dumbledore said bitingly. "Take that boy in your arms and look at him!"

"You don't own me, Dumbledore!" growled Snape.

"Unfortunately, you are correct. I do not own you, Severus. However, Voldemort does."

"How dare you!" snarled Snape as he drew his wand and leveled it at Dumbledore.

"Albus," McGonagall exclaimed outraged.

"Take that child in your arms, Severus, and look at him. Then tell me you don't give a damn about him. If you do that, then I will leave you alone."

"Fine," Snape sneered as he snatched the bundle from the house elf's arms. He glanced down at the child and growled as he noticed the boy was waking. The moment the green eyes met onyx was the moment Dumbledore knew he had won. Harry could see the look of momentary triumph in his face.

"Well, Severus, do you give a damn about the child now?"

"He has her eyes," Snape responded softly.

"Yes." Dumbledore then glanced towards Minerva who understood instantly and gave the wizards their space. Glancing back towards the broken wizard, he drew in a breath. "Severus, the boy still needs someone to look out for him. I surely would do so, but you are a better protector than I am. Please, Severus. Protect the boy for his mother."

In response, Snape glanced down at the young child in his arms and said, "I, Severus Snape, swear on my Wizard's Oath to protect Harry Potter from the Dark Lord and his true followers."

Harry could feel the intense feelings from Snape. He didn't know if it was just another part Syrene allowed him to see or what. But Harry could hear Snape's thoughts clearly. It's not enough, Snape thought. No amount of promises I make would ever make up for what I did to this child. I have to do something. I have to make it right. Snape then closed his eyes before drawing in a deep breath.

"Pull out your wand," Snape replied before glancing from the small child to Dumbledore.

"Why?"

"I must make the Unbreakable Vow."

"Severus, you need not do anything so extreme."

"No, Albus, I must do this. I must tie myself to the boy's fate for Lily."

"If you are certain," Dumbledore asked. Snape curtly nodded. "Very well," he said before glancing towards the witch watching them. "Minerva will perform it." At the sight of the questioning glance from the witch, he sighed again. "Do not say anything. Just do this, Minerva." Dumbledore and Snape then clasped hands.

"Will you, Severus Snape, watch over Harry Potter as he grows up?"

"I will," Snape responded instantly. From McGonagall's wand came the tendrils of light, which slowly wrapped around Snape and Dumbledore's wrists.

"And will you, to the best of your ability, protect young Harry from harm?"

"I will." More tendrils of light enclosed around them before vanishing.

"Then it is done, Severus."

Harry could feel the remorse and guilt Snape gave off. He could also feel the man's heart breaking as he held the child. A few seconds later, he curiously watched Snape bend his head towards Harry's younger self and whisper in the child's ear. Harry had to crane his neck to hear Snape's words.

"I will not allow your mother's sacrifice die in vain, my child."

Before Harry could see any more of that scene, the surroundings blurred again. When the setting reappeared, Harry now stood next to an older version of Snape who was watching a Quidditch match. Harry could easily identify the teams playing. It was the Slytherin vs. Gryffindor match. His eyes narrowed at this finding because he knew he hadn't been at the game. Yet, there Harry was, flying around the Quidditch pitch in his crimson uniform.

Harry's mouth dropped seconds later when he saw his broom going psychotic. When he saw himself hanging on by one hand, he gulped. He then glanced towards Snape. His eyes narrowed on the wizard because the man was mouthing something fluidly. Harry tried to focus on the words, but he couldn't catch the words. He then glanced towards himself again and then back at Snape. Was Snape trying to kill him?

It was then that Harry saw Quirrell sitting behind Snape. Something in the man's eyes made Harry know that it wasn't Snape trying to kill him, but instead the purple turbaned DADA professor. When Harry glanced back at Snape, he watched a small wand poke out from underneath Snape's legs. His eyes narrowed. He had seen that particular wand somewhere.

When two seconds later Snape's robes caught on fire, Harry knew. He caught the brief flash of bushy hair retreating back into the darkness of underneath the bleachers. He watched Snape stand up and attempt to put the fire out. And Harry grinned when Snape shoved the man behind him back, which knocked Quirrell off the back of the bleachers. Glancing back at his self, he nodded as he quickly swung back onto his broom before taking off again. He wasn't crazy. It was supposed to have been Quirrell!

The scene changed again, though. This time his surroundings were a dark chamber. A sparkling jeweled silver sword, a black diary, a young girl that Harry thought was familiar, and a giant snake were all scattered around a slightly older version of himself. Harry's eyes narrowed on the wound to his forearm from where it looked like something bit him. He could feel this version of himself dying.

"Soon everyone will learn of my return," a young man in Slytherin robes said as he stood over this version of Harry. "And you, Harry Potter, will be nothing but a memory."

Harry watched himself grab a giant tooth from next to him before stabbing the black diary. Harry's eyes narrowed. What possible good would that do? However, the diary instantly started to spurt ink as if the diary had been alive. Harry didn't have time to focus on what was happening because the scene quickly changed once more.

"Nice doggy," an older version of Ron whimpered as he slowly back up. "Nice doggy!"

Harry glanced toward Hermione, Ron, and himself. He caught the blood on Ron's leg. Something had bit his friend. However, Harry quickly glanced back at the werewolf that stalked towards the three huddled Gryffindors.

"There you are, Potter!" Snape sneered as he emerged from a hole underneath the Whomping Willow. The man didn't look very happy. However, the second the creature behind Snape growled, Snape whirled around with wide eyes. He instantly stepped in front of the three badly frightened children and held his arms back to hold them behind him.

Harry screamed the exact second Hermione did when the werewolf slashed its paw at Snape. The werewolf struck the wizard in the chest and sending him to the ground, which made the other three too. Harry glanced from the four towards the werewolf. However, when a scruffy dog appeared and attacked the werewolf, Harry glanced back at the four. He didn't know what was happening. Who was the dog and where did it come from?

"Sirius!" the older version of Harry yelled suddenly.

Harry then glanced towards the dog and werewolf that were disappearing into the forest. Who was Sirius? He couldn't focus on that very long because the version of himself quickly took off after the dog and werewolf. What in the world was going on?

"Come back here, Potter!" yelled Snape as he held back Hermione and Ron.

The surroundings blurred again before the office of the DADA professor appeared. Harry glanced from Snape, Dumbledore, McGonagall, himself, and the man in the chair. He watched again as Snape pulled his older version back from danger. The man in the chair had started to lunge for Harry.

"I'll show you mine if you show me yours," the man sneered before laughing hysterically. The man then pulled up his left sleeve, which revealed a dark tattoo of a skull with a snake coming out of it.

Harry felt a chill travel down his spine at the sight. However, he glanced back and watched Dumbledore roughly push up his older version's sleeve. Someone had carved something into Harry's arm with a knife. He winced at the sight before glancing back at the unknown man.

"You know what that means, Dumbledore, don't you? He's back. Lord Voldemort has returned."

Snape's office then appeared as the black mist slowly retreated. Harry glanced around. He and Snape were the only ones in the office, but Snape had his wand out. He glanced at himself and shook his head. He looked like he had just had an intense Quidditch practice. Sweat covered his shirt, and he was panting horribly.

"You're just like your father," Snape sneered as he quietly retreated to his desk. "Lazy, arrogant," he continued.

"Don't say a word against my father!" his older self yelled back standing from the chair he had rested in previously.

"Weak," Snape sneered again.

"I'm not weak!"

"Then prove it!" yelled Snape as a strange emotion crossed his face. "Control your emotions! Discipline your mind!" It appeared that Snape had a personal interest in order to see Harry succeed.

When Harry saw Snape fluidly enter his casting stance, he felt the urge to cast a spell back at the man. However, Harry didn't. He guessed whatever he'd cast for a spell wouldn't work anyway. He glanced from Snape and back to himself. They both looked drained and at end wits with each other.

"Legilimens," Snape said casting his spell.

A series of quick images flashed before Harry's eyes, which truthfully made him feel sick. However, when the images stopped with him hugging a man with wavy hair, he narrowed his eyes.

"Sirius," that Harry said embracing the man.

"I may vomit," Snape drawled. The office quickly came back into view, and Harry felt himself panting right alongside his older self. These images were very powerful.

"Stop it," his older self said.

"Is this what you call control?" responded Snape with a look of disappointment.

"We've been at it for hours if I could just rest."

Harry felt his heart race when Snape lunged at his older self. The wizard didn't appreciate his request. Then again, Snape was a rather demanding individual. His older self should have expected that.

"The Dark Lord isn't resting," Snape sneered as the dark mist settled in and altered the scene.

Harry felt his chest tighten at the sight of Hagrid's hut engulfed in flames as the scene appeared. However, sounds of shouting and spells whizzing past quickly caught his attention. He watched Snape, looking as menacing as always, stalk towards this Harry.

"You dare use my own spells against me, Potter? It was I who invented them—I, the Half-Blood Prince. You'd turn my inventions on me, like your filthy father, would you? I don't think so—NO!" Snape roared as he knelt beside Harry. He easily kicked Harry's wand far away from him.

"Kill me then. Kill me like you killed him, you coward—" screamed this Harry.

"DON'T CALL ME A COWARD!" roared Snape like a feral creature.

Harry's eyes narrowed on the scene. Who had Snape killed? Why was he so angry with the man? What had happened to them this term? He glanced around and saw a scruffy looking man shoving Draco down the hill towards the front gates. He then glanced back at Snape and himself, but the annoying dark mist quickly changed the surroundings into a forest near a lake.

Harry instantly noticed the bright white doe that was looking at his older self. It was a remarkable sight. He felt his heart constrict as he remembered something Professor Sinistra had told him once. His mother's Patronus, whatever that was, was a doe. Could this be showing him that his mother would return to him?

Harry received his answer a few seconds later when he saw Snape peaking from out behind a tree staring at his older self. The older wizard's ebony wand was out as he led the white doe towards the frozen edge of the lake. The man lingered for a few moments, which Harry watched with curiosity. The man looked horribly aged and tired now. Harry could also see remorse and longing in the man's eyes as he stared at Harry's older self who was pulling out a glittering silver sword from the water. The black robed wizard then turned and fled away. Harry guessed that Snape left because he had completed his mission. He had noticed that the man didn't like to remain in one spot for too long.

The scene quickly changed again, and Harry's eyes narrowed. He was now in an old run down building of some kind. The wind blew horribly through it and made it creak.

Harry's mouth dropped as he saw the blood draining from the wound to Snape's neck and the older version of himself kneeling next to Snape. He could feel the darkness settling into Snape's mind, and the fact the man was not at all scared to die. That last part scared Harry the most. Harry always thought death was something to fear. How could anyone, least of all Snape, just give up?

"Look…at…me!" rasped Snape as he held Harry's older self's eyes.

Harry instantly could feel the relief in Snape as the two pairs of eyes met, onyx and emerald. Snape seemed to be at peace with his death. A strange silvery, for the lack of a better word, thing then leaked out of Snape as the man lie dying. Harry's older version of himself quickly bottled it up, which made Harry's eyes narrow. What was that strange stuff? The scene changed once more, and this time Harry was in the Great Hall.

"Don't you get it, Riddle? Snape was never yours to begin with! The moment you started hunting my mum was the moment you lost him forever! Oh, he beat you at your own game, Riddle!"

"You lie, Potter," a snake-like man sneered as his red eyes darted around the room wildly. "Severus was mine! He told me himself that there were purer women he could have been with than your Mudblood mother!"

"You never saw his Patronus then, did you, Riddle? His Patronus was the same as my mum's was. It was a doe, and it remained one until you killed him. He loved her more than anything before in his life, and that love was what protected me all these years. You lost, Riddle. You are the one who will lose everything in the end!"

"Avada Kedavra," the red-eyed man yelled as he pointed his wand at Harry's older self.

"Expelliarmus," his older self yelled back. The spells rebounded off each other. The green jet of light slammed against the wizard named Riddle.

Harry instantly felt a satisfying feeling wash over him coming from his older self. It was over. He had defeated whoever this wizard Riddle was. He had won. Harry then felt eyes on him, which made him whirl around to see who it was. To say he was shocked was an understatement. Hidden in the darkness of the Great Hall was Severus Snape. The man looked like hell, but he was there.

Someone had torn off a part of Snape's robes and tied it around his neck in order to control the bleeding. He leaned heavily against the far wall. He was the whitest Harry had ever seen him, and he looked like he could collapse at any moment. However, there was warmth in Snape's eyes now as he stared at Harry's older self. Not being able to identify properly what the emotion was on Snape's face, Harry guessed that (could it be?) pride in the older wizard's face.

Harry then watched Syrene slowly walk out of the mist and hold her hand out to Snape. She looked grave as ever. Harry quietly walked over to them when he noticed that she was speaking rather hushed to Snape. The rest of the people in the Great Hall didn't seem to notice at all that Snape and Syrene were there.

"The boy survived, Severus," Syrene whispered as she held him upright.

"Obviously," Snape drawled in a rasp.

"But look around. Look at all the faces of the dead. Look how much he lost because of his survival." Syrene then sighed. "He lost his parents, the ones who would have shown him love and affection. The Muggles he lived with showed him none of that. They only showed him brutality and hatred. Unfortunately, the deaths of his parents cannot be undone, but the others can, Severus."

"I was…was to be one of them," Snape rasped before groaning quietly.

"Yes, and you will die." Syrene then glanced towards the bodies in the Great Hall. "Cedric Diggory, you taught him, did you not?" Snape coughed harshly, but nodded. "You could prevent his death so that Mr. Diggory lived a long life."

"It…it's not my…my decision," Snape responded groaning again.

"Sirius Black, a man who tortured you all throughout your years at Hogwarts," Syrene said. "His death was particularly brutal, wasn't it? In fact, I believe during your lessons with the boy you saw how it affected him. His godfather murdered before his very eyes. It is a shame," she said shaking her head slowly. "Forgive me, Severus, but it is a shame that you would allow petty grudges from your childhood days to harm the boy."

"Again, not…not my decision," Snape rasped before coughing harshly again.

"Albus Dumbledore, a man you loved like a father when your own could not love you," Syrene whispered before scoffing. "The man used you for his own agenda. He made you spy at great risk to yourself. He raised that boy for slaughter, and you only learned about it before you were to kill him. Convenient for him, I would say," Syrene drawled. "He was your second master, was he not, Severus? He may never have branded you as Riddle did, but you were his. I wonder if you had to do it again if you would still choose Dumbledore's side." Snape coughed harshly once more and groaned as he gasped for breath. It was getting harder to breathe. "I would not blame you if you allowed his death to remain."

"No," Snape rasped harshly. "It…it is not my…my decision to choose who lives and who dies."

"Charity Burbage, Alastor Moody, the boy's owl Hedwig," Syrene rhythmically said in rapid fire. "Bathilda Bagshot, the house elf named Dobby, Vincent Crabbe, Remus Lupin, Dora Tonks, Colin Creevy, Fred Weasley, need I go on, Severus? All of their deaths could have been prevented."

"Not… my decision," Snape rasped.

"You saw the boy's home life with the Muggles entrusted with his care, I believe, yes?" He nodded curtly. "I wonder how you could sleep at night knowing that Lily's son was being treated no more than a house elf in the Malfoy's care. You heard no doubt that lout of a Muggle man call the boy a freak. Yes?" she asked. "And that did not enrage you, Severus?"

"I…I could do…do nothing to help him," Snape replied with short gasps of air. "Blood protections," he clarified with a deathly rasp.

"You could do a hell of a lot more than what you did, Severus," Syrene snapped. "But you chose not to because you allowed your hatred of the boy's father to prevent you to see the boy himself. I believe in fact your wise white wizard Dumbledore himself told you numerous times to look beyond the boy's physical attributes and see that he was not his father." She then shook her head angrily when Snape closed his eyes. "The only reason you are alive now is because I am keeping you alive, Severus. You have an opportunity to give the boy a chance for a better life than this one. You have a way to prevent this slaughter from ever occurring. Yet you do not take it because of whom the boy's father is, something the boy cannot control. If you had been the boy's father, Severus, then what would you have done? Would you have done what was necessary to protect him at all cost as your oath swore to? Would you have watched over him as if he were your own? Or would you do as Dumbledore did and raise that boy as a pig for slaughter?"

Snape fell to his knees then and grabbed his neck. He gasped for air as it became harder to breathe. Harry could feel that this death wasn't so peaceful for Snape. He wanted desperately to cast several of those spells that he had seen the others use, but he didn't have his wand with him. He was as helpless as Snape was.

"You could have it, you know," Syrene whispered quietly. "You could have your son with Lily. All you need to do is say the word, Severus."

"Not…my…decision," rasped Snape coughing violently. He then took a breath gasping for air.

"I'm giving you that decision, though, Severus. You could ensure he has a loving home instead of the prison Dumbledore forces him to live in. You could ensure he'd be your son with Lily, not James Potter's son. You could ensure that the Prince line continues. Severus, I'm giving this decision to you."

"I…don't…want…it," he said gasping.

"Look at that boy, Severus, and tell me that he doesn't deserve happiness. Tell me that he doesn't deserve a warm family to love him. Tell me that he doesn't deserve to live without thinking all those deaths were his fault. Severus, I want you to look at that boy. Look at him!" Snape groaned quietly, but did glance towards the older version of Harry. "Now tell me you don't love him."

"I…" Snape's voice trailed off before he hung his head and shook softly.

"Severus, she saw the best in you when you only saw the worst. Years ago, you made a mistake. Don't keep paying for that mistake. Allow yourself this gift."

"She…chose Potter, though," Snape whispered.

"Yes, she did, but you were always in her heart, Severus."

"I can't," he rasped. "I can't make that decision. She chose him."

"Lily Evans and James Potter will die, Severus. No one can prevent James or Lily's deaths."

"Why?" cried Snape. "Why must she die?"

"So that Harry may live, Severus," Syrene responded somberly. "You saw how her sacrifice helped Harry defeat Riddle. Without her death, no one could stop Riddle from destroying everything that we hold dear in this world. Severus, I know that you would do anything to keep her alive. It is noble and brave, but it is also foolish."

"If I changed his lineage, I would be dishonoring her," Snape said.

"No, Severus, you wouldn't. She would never know that her son's father is in fact not James Potter. No one would know—"

"Then I would be changing nothing," Snape interrupted before coughing again.

"You would be changing everything. The boy would have his father, someone who loved him. Severus, no one would know until the time was right when you were both ready to tell the world of your familial relationship. Severus, Lily would never know, though. You would not create any strife between Lily and James."

"She…would curse me when she learned of it," Snape rasped.

"I believe she'd curse me more than you, Severus," Syrene responded with a pleasant smile. "Once she and James saw how you care for Harry, then I believe they would accept your decision."

"I can do nothing for him now," Snape somberly said.

"Perhaps not now, but before you can," she replied. "All it takes, Severus, is your word."

"He would…learn of this then?"

"Yes."

"I love Lily, but I cannot dishonor her," Snape responded before closing his eyes.

"Then the boy will be raised like slaughter yet again, and all that he holds dear to his heart will die. He will lose everything, Severus. All because you won't make the decision," she said coldly.

Harry inhaled deeply. He wanted to yell encouragement to Snape for not deciding to do it, but he knew that Snape sometime did give in. The scene then dissolved and Harry found himself in a nursery. He instantly recognized his toddler version of himself sitting in the crib. He then saw Snape and Syrene.

"Why…why did you bring me here?" Snape gasped. He appeared to have become weaker with time, but Harry could tell that this scene was probably only a few minutes after what he had just seen.

"You made the Unbreakable Vow in this very nursery years ago, Severus. Look at that small helpless child," she said pointing at the toddler watching them with curiosity. "Tomorrow, he will lose his parents forever. Tomorrow, Voldemort will come into this very house here and murder them before trying to do the same to this child. Look at him, Severus. Look into that sweet face of this very child of your best friend. Tomorrow night, after Voldemort murders this child's parents, Dumbledore, thinking he is doing what is best for the child, will leave him on the front step of Petunia and Vernon Dursleys' house. The boy will live in a cupboard for ten years. The Dursleys will starve, yell, beat, and treat him like crap for years without anyone raising a hand back. When he gets his letter, they will try to outrun it just so that no one ever finds out the degree of abuse the boy suffered while under their care. As the years progress, he will start to believe that bad things happen to him because he is a bad person. He will believe naively that all the deaths, in fact the entire slaughter, that occurs is his fault. Tell me now, Severus. Do you still believe it dishonors Lily's memory by not caring for her child?"

"What must I do?" Snape rasped softly.

"Your blood must mix with his. Then repeat the following phrase: In loco pater," she instructed.

Harry watched Snape unravel the bandage around his neck. He instantly winced at the sight of the wound. It didn't look any better than it had before. Slowly, he watched Snape carefully pick up his toddler self. The man gently cut the child's palm and immediately whispered hushed words of sympathy to the crying child. Harry could tell that Snape, this Snape, did love him in the end. He could see the pain in the man's face at hurting the small child. Tears stung Harry's eyes as he watched the scene in silence. His younger toddler self had put his little arms around Snape's neck as if to hug the man.

"In loco pater," Snape whispered embracing the child tenderly against his chest.

Harry then watched a bluish light move from Snape into the small child. A few seconds later, Snape gently set the child back into his crib before carding the small boy's unruly hair.

"Goodbye, my son," Snape whispered. The dark mist took over, and Harry was back in darkness.

An hour after the accident, Dumbledore ordered Madam Hooch to check over the Quidditch equipment with the help of Professors Flitwick and McGonagall. Not too long afterwards, they found the Dark Mark carved deeply into the bludger that struck Harry. Without a doubt, every professor knew that somehow either Voldemort himself or a follower of his had carved that mark. Therefore, they destroyed every bit of their school Quidditch equipment. The golden snitch took an Incendio. The quaffle and subsequent bludgers exploded with a well-placed Bombarda. The beaters' bats shattered from a freeze charm. Dumbledore then placed a temporary ban on Quidditch until the next year in order to ensure that no one else would be hurt.

It had been three weeks since the bludger hit Harry. There still was no change in his condition. He was still lying on the cot in the Hospital Wing comatose. And according to Pomfrey, he would be for quite awhile as his head healed. Throughout the entire three weeks, Harry had one constant companion who stayed the entire night with him until sunrise.

"Hey," a voice whispered as the person stood behind Snape. "Is there any change yet, Severus?"

"None," he replied quietly. He sounded completely exhausted. Then again, it was around one am. He sighed heavily. She must have just finished with her first year class.

"If you want to—"

"No," Snape snapped. "I cannot leave him, Aurora."

"All right," she responded before kneeling in front of him. "Severus, I know you don't want to talk about it, but I can't just stand by and let you suffer. Tell me what it is. Tell me why Harry's affecting you so much. Is it because of Lily?" He didn't respond. He only stared at her with that same look that he had worn for three months now. "If you're blaming yourself because you didn't stop that bludger, then stop, Severus. It wasn't your fault. You didn't carve that symbol into it. You didn't cast that spell. Severus, you didn't do anything wrong."

"I was supposed to protect him, Aurora."

"Severus," she said softly before gently holding his hands. "Please stop blaming yourself."

"Before his game, I spoke with him in your tower. He did not wish to play that day, but I…I told him that it'd be a way for him to reconnect with James." Aurora stared at him, but said nothing. "I could have just let him quit, but I didn't. I foolishly pushed him to play."

"Severus, you couldn't have known about any of this," she whispered softly. "Dumbledore didn't even know." She then gently rubbed her thumbs against the back of his hands. "Please, Severus. Please tell me what else there is. I can see it in your eyes that there's more. Severus, what is it?"

"He's mine," Snape whispered so softly she couldn't hear him.

"Severus, I—"

"He's my son," he repeated a bit louder.

"Oh," she cried before biting her lips. She closed her eyes and hung her head. "You're not going to lose him, Severus. Please believe me. Harry's going to wake up. I promise."

"You can't promise me that, Aurora. No one can." He then glanced towards Harry. "I didn't want to believe it. I couldn't believe it. I never was with Lily like that." He shook his head before swallowing harshly. "I was at a manor in the outskirts of Nottingham on Harry's supposed night of conception. I can clearly recall that night. I can even smell the acrid stench of death after I had killed a young girl on his orders. I can hear Bella's laughter as the girl screamed for her to stop." His whole body shook as he desperately held his emotions back. "He can't be my son, Aurora. He just can't be."

"Did you have Madam Pomfrey examine you? Maybe those are implanted memories."

"She couldn't find any evidence of that. According to every scan she did, I was in Nottingham."

"Then perhaps Syrene is behind it," Aurora responded quietly. "Either way, Severus, you won't lose him. Harry's a fighter." She then sighed. "I take it that Harry knows you're his father?" Snape nodded curtly. "Then he has even more reason to wake up, Severus."

"I told—I told my son I didn't—I couldn't be his father. I told him to continue believing James was his father. Why would he wake up to me after that? I pushed him away as if he meant nothing."

"I'm sure he'll understand." She then glanced towards the young Gryffindor. "He's a beautiful boy, Severus. I'm sure Lily would agree if she were alive." She lovingly carded the boy's messy hair.

Soft groans from the little lion quickly brought Snape to his feet. He glanced towards Aurora before glancing at Harry. His heart beat rapidly in his chest. In fact, it felt as if it was about to explode from his chest. His son was waking up.

"Harry, sweetheart, can you hear me?" Aurora softly whispered as she leaned towards him. More groans came from the young Gryffindor. She then glanced towards Severus before deciding it'd be best for her to get Pomfrey. She wordlessly left to do just that, leaving Severus with Harry.

"Harry?" Snape quietly spoke. The boy's head rolled back and forth on the pillow as he slowly regained consciousness. He gasped for air before leaning towards his son. He gently touched Harry's face to try to keep the boy from moving so much. It didn't take long before Harry leaned more into his hand, craving more attention. He couldn't prevent the soft smile from curling his lips upwards.

"Dad?" softly Harry whispered.

Snape's hand instantly recoiled as if something burned him. He stared at the boy before whirling around. He knew he was being a coward, but he couldn't deal with this yet. When Harry had spoken that one word, it felt like a punch to the gut for Snape. He was certain Harry couldn't be talking about him. They weren't to that point yet, and Snape wondered if they ever would be after what happened.

Snape glanced back at Harry one last time before pulling out an envelope that he had meant to give the child, his child, on the first night of his vigil. Silently, he placed the envelope next to all of Harry's well wish gifts. He stared at his son and closed his eyes. He wasn't ready to face Harry yet. He thought he was, but now that the time had come, he knew he wasn't. He accepted that Harry was his son based on DNA. He had run the tests himself and received the same results as Madam Pomfrey. However, he didn't and couldn't accept the possibility yet that he had been with Lily and created that amazingly beautiful child of theirs who was slowly regaining consciousness. He would have thought he'd remember at least part of Lily and his time together, but he couldn't recall anything. He drew in a breath and briskly walked towards the doors. Before he could leave, though, he walked past Aurora and Pomfrey. Both witches stared at him in disbelief. However, he didn't allow them time to say anything. Within seconds, he was gone.

That morning around nine, Harry rubbed his head as he felt the dull ache. He supposed he should have told Madam Pomfrey about it, but he really didn't want to be a burden. After he had woken up sometime around one-thirty in the morning, he instantly noticed that Snape wasn't anywhere in the room. However, Harry had a feeling that Snape had been there prior to his waking up. The Infirmary just smelled of cloves and other herbs, which Harry always identified with being Snape's particular scent.

Harry glanced around the Hospital Wing. He sighed as he caught the various cards and gifts his friends had left him. He ignored all of them for the envelope in familiar green scrawl. He knew just by the handwriting on the envelope that Snape left it. The handwriting was neat and very carefully written. He broke the Slytherin seal, pulled the letter out, and unfolded it before reading. It only contained two words, which were 'Forgive me.'

Harry's eyes narrowed on the two words. He didn't know of any reason Snape would need for Harry's forgiveness. As far as he knew, the man hadn't done anything that warranted forgiveness. The Gryffindor then leaned back and sighed.

"Ah, good morning, Harry," Dumbledore said with a pleasant smile as he walked in. "Feeling better, I presume?"

"Yes, sir," Harry responded. He set the letter down next to him, not wanting the headmaster to see it. After seeing what he saw, he felt a bit more hesitant and less trusting around the man. "Madam Pomfrey believes I can return to the dorms sometime tomorrow."

"Does she now? Well, that is good news then." The older wizard then sighed before looking more somber. "I must apologize, Harry. I took an unnecessary risk with your life. I should not have allowed you to play Quidditch at such an early age."

"It's all right, sir," Harry quietly replied. What else was he supposed to say to that?

"No, Harry, it is not. My bending the rules for you nearly caused your death and terrible grief for a man who does not need me adding anymore to his life." Harry knew instantly Dumbledore was taking about Snape then. "I have spoken with Professor McGonagall. We have both agreed that we should not allow you to play Quidditch until you are older. I apologize, Harry, for doing this to you, but it really is in your best interests."

"I know, sir, and it's all right. I'm not really sure I want to play Quidditch anymore anyway."

"Perhaps a wise move on your part, Harry," Dumbledore said with a pleasant smile. "It'd perhaps keep your father from having a heart attack also. He truly does love you, Harry."

"I know, sir," Harry replied with a grin. "Even if he doesn't want to say it vocally, I know."

"I must also apologize about leaving you with Dursleys. It was a grievous error on my part, Harry, and I thoroughly apologize for that. I had thought that Petunia could perhaps look beyond her contempt against her sister. I was mistaken." Dumbledore then sighed. "If I had to do it over again, I'd have brought you to your father immediately."

"He's not really supposed to be my father, though, sir," Harry admitted.

"Perhaps not, but he is your father now. Therefore, I have officially removed you from the Dursleys." At the sight of Harry's mouth dropping, Dumbledore chuckled softly. "My boy, even I can't deny a son from being with his father. I have signed the necessary papers. As of this moment, you are officially the son of Severus Snape and Lily Evans. I have yet to speak to Severus about this, but since I found the papers of adoption in his midst anyway, well, I doubt there will be much protest."

"Um, sir, can I ask you something?"

"Of course, Harry, you may ask anything."

"I dreamt some things, and one of the things I dreamt was this silver stuff. It wasn't liquid, but it wasn't gas either. It was coming out of my father's face, and I was bottling it. Do you know what that silver stuff is, sir?"

"I could be wrong, but it sounds as if it is memories, Harry."

"Why would I be bottling them, though?"

"Perhaps to view them again," responded Dumbledore thoughtfully. "In fact, on occasion I even bottle my own thoughts so that I may see them again. It is rather enlightening the second time."

"Is that hard? To pull your memories out?" asked Harry curiously.

"Not particularly, but then I have experience. Why do you ask, Harry?"

"I…well, I thought that maybe I'd let Snape see what I saw in my dreams. They dealt with him so I thought it'd only be fair for him to see them."

"Ah, what a wonderful idea, Harry," exclaimed Dumbledore cheerily. "Think of the memories you wish me to remove." A flask instantly appeared in the older wizard's hands as he slowly pulled his wand out. Harry did as Dumbledore asked. "Are you ready?" Harry nodded once. "Tell me when to stop, and I shall do so."

Within seconds afterwards, Harry watched the fluid-like material airily float from Dumbledore's wand into the flask. He could feel the memories slowly vanishing from his mind. He remained quiet until the first scene he had seen vanished from his memory.

"All right, sir," Harry said. The wand slowly lowered, and the flask closed. "Would he know what to do with these?"

"Oh, yes, Severus most certainly would, Harry. If you'd like I could have Professor Sinistra deliver this to the dungeons later this evening?"

"How about we use the Floo right now?" Professor Sinistra interrupted as she gracefully walked out of the matron's office. Her long emerald robes majestically moved with her as she moved. "Forgive me, Headmaster, but I've just spoken with Madam Pomfrey. As long as either Severus or I are watching you at all times, you may remain down there with us."

"Is he down there?"

"Oh, yes, the terrible bat is down in his wicked dungeons," Professor Sinistra joked. "In fact, the last time I saw him, he was busying himself with some big surprise for you, Harry. If I had to guess, he was brewing you a potion." She then laughed softly. "I myself am now the proud owner of a Felix Felicis potion." Harry's eyes narrowed on her. "Oh, well, it's commonly called 'Liquid Luck'," she explained. "It's a rather ingenious potion if you drink it. For twenty-four hours, you are extremely lucky. So, if you are ever in a bind, drink it and everything starts to go your way."

"Sounds cool," said Harry with a grin.

"Oh, yes, you definitely are their son," Professor Sinistra muttered with a laugh. She then spelled Harry's hospital gown into a set of robes. She held her hand out for him to use as he got to his feet.

"You know?" asked Harry quietly. He noticed Dumbledore watching them closely as if the man felt like he was losing something precious.

"That someday I'm going to be your wicked stepmother, oh, yes, I know, Mr. Prince."

"Prince?" repeated Harry.

"You see, Severus always told me that if we ever had children, they'd have his mother's surname. I just naturally assumed that you would be the same case. I see I was mistaken, though. I will continue to refer to you as Mr. Potter then."

"No, that's all right. I sort of like 'Prince," Harry said with a smile.

"You seem to be very accepting of all this, Harry," Dumbledore said as he handed over the flask.

"I'll still think of James Potter as my dad, sir, but Snape's my father now," Harry said holding the flask. "I've always wanted a family, sir. And in a way, I'm getting one. If Snape's willing to have me, then I'm more than willing to be his son. It's about time I had someone that loved me."

"Well said, Harry," Professor Sinistra replied before wrapping an arm around Harry. She slowly led him towards the open Floo. When she felt Harry hesitate, she stopped. "It's all right, Harry. The flames will freeze once I throw the Floo powder into the fireplace. It won't hurt a bit, love." She then flashed a brief smile before he slowly walked towards the now green flames. "Snape's rooms," she said as soon as they were both in. The green flames roared with life, taking them to their destination.

As soon as they arrived, though, Professor Sinistra felt her momentum pitching forward towards the floor. She wrapped her arm tighter around Harry and braced herself. However, her collision never came with the floor. She opened her eyes and glanced towards Severus who had his hand outstretched. She flashed a brief appreciative smile before she stood up straight again. She then quickly helped Harry over to the couch before brushing off her robes. She glanced towards Harry and at Severus. Both were eyeing each other with uncertainty.

"Well, I'll leave you boys alone," said Professor Sinistra with a smile. She silently walked towards the back bedroom and shut the door behind her so they'd have privacy.

"How do you feel?"

"My head kind of hurts," Harry replied. "Other than that I'm good."

"You did not feel the need to inform Pomfrey of this ache?" responded Snape with a bit of a growl in his voice. However, any anger quickly disappeared as he took a deep breath. "Forgive me. I meant nothing by my words just now. Would you object if I cast a diagnostic charm on you?"

Harry shook his head. He watched Snape expertly wave his ebony wand over his head before the man sighed. Was that a good sigh or was it bad? Harry couldn't tell, and the man's face didn't give anything away.

"It is just a minor headache, which is to be expected. There is no swelling in your brain, and your skull appears to have healed adequately."

"Okay," Harry replied. Snape sounded so clinical. He guessed that was just the man's way of telling him he was fine, which Harry knew. He then noticed Snape staring at the flask in Harry's hands. "Oh, um, well, I thought you'd like to see these."

"See what exactly?" replied Snape with a look of intrigue.

"It's, well, it shows how we're…you know…related."

"In other words, how I am your father," restated Snape.

"Yeah," Harry said quietly.

"I see." Snape then calmly grabbed the flask from Harry.

Harry watched the man methodically walk towards a desk near the far corner before pulling out a silver bowl. He curiously observed the silvery material float into it a few seconds later. When Snape glanced back at him, Harry saw the regret in the man's eyes again.

"You know, you don't have anything for me to forgive you for," Harry preemptively said.

"You don't know that."

"Yeah, I do, and I think those will show you that I know at least part of it."

Snape turned back to the silver bowl before putting his head in it. Harry's eyes narrowed on that. Is that what Dumbledore meant by viewing the memories? Sometimes being a wizard was so strange.

Harry knew the memories would take a while for Snape to view so he leaned back into the sofa. He had to admit that he was curious what Snape had been working on before he arrived. However, looking around, Harry found nothing out of the ordinary. The bookshelves seemed clean again and alphabetized by subject, but Snape usually had Mokai do that. The large Slytherin banner still hung to the left of Harry, blocking out the sun. The kitchen was clean as always. Nothing seemed to be out of the ordinary in the sitting room at least. He then craned his neck towards the small hallway that contained doors to Snape's bedroom and private potions lab. However, Harry noticed a new door that he had never seen before. He glanced towards Snape who was still viewing Harry's memories. Had the man—no—he couldn't have—could he have? Chewing his bottom lip for a while, Harry did his very best not to think about that new door and the implications it would mean for him.

Harry didn't have to wait much longer before Snape pulled his head back out of the bowl. The man's dark eyes flickered towards Harry with a strange emotion before the man glanced away. Harry watched Snape draw in calming breaths for a few moments. He hadn't meant to make Snape angry. He just thought Snape needed to know the truth.

"You may cease in your silly thoughts, Harry," Snape said in a worn out voice. "I'm not mad."

"But something is wrong, though," Harry responded.

"No. Nothing is wrong now."

"What'd you mean?"

"We now know the truth, Harry. Like Syrene said, we can prevent it from occurring." He then sighed heavily before running a hand through his hair.

"You were right. You never were with Mum, but it doesn't change anything." When Snape glanced at him, Harry smiled. "You're still my dad. I mean, of course James Potter should be my dad, but he isn't. As I said, there's nothing for you to apologize. You're my dad, and that's all that matters."

"Yes, I suppose you're right, Harry. You're my son, and it's all that should matter in the end."