"Expelliarmus!" shouted Severus Snape, and a bolt of strong magical energy erupted from his wand and slammed Gilderoy Lockhart square in the chest, knocking him backwards and almost off the dueling stage. The boyishly handsome teacher landed with a thud, hard on his backside, and almost tumbled off the stage, much to the horror of several second-year girls watching. They gasped and squealed, then flashed Snape angry looks for having the audacity to nearly injure their heartthrob. Severus ignored them, giving the pathetic excuse for a Defense professor a pointed scowl. "As I said before, Lockhart, you need to teach your students how to block before you teach them how to disarm."

Lockhart stood up, brushing his breeches off. He gave his students a rueful grin. "I . . .er . . .meant for him to do that. You see, I could have blocked Professor Snape had I wished . . ."

Like hell! Snape thought acidly. He detested his fellow professor's incompetence and blathering. Lockhart was an idiot—a handsome talkative fool, just the sort of person Severus hated and loved to make a fool out of. Lockhart was a joke as a Defense teacher, Snape thought all of his books were lies, invented by him and a very good publicist to sell books. If Lockhart had ever come within scent or sight of a banshee or a werewolf, he would have been dead a dozen times over. The man's reflexes were slow as treacle, not what one would expect of someone who claimed to have singlehandedly defeated all sorts of deadly magical creatures and beings. But Lockhart was pretty and charming and people were always ready to believe that sort of man. He would have made a good used car salesman, Severus thought with a sneer. "Perhaps it might help the students if they practiced themselves?"

"Oh, yes. Yes, of course, Severus!" Lockhart said sheepishly. "How about . . .Harry Potter and Neville Longbottom?"

Severus shook his head, his lip curling. Imbecile! "Not unless you wish Potter to go to the Hospital Wing in a matchbox. Might I suggest someone from my own House? Malfoy, perhaps?"

Gilderoy nodded assent, and Malfoy sprang up on the stage, waiting impatiently for Harry to stand opposite him. Severus bent and hissed, "Standard spells only, Malfoy. No forbidden jinxes or hexes. But make Potter work hard for his victory."

Malfoy nodded. "Yes, sir. I will."

They began to duel. Severus watched closely. Had Dumbledore allowed it, he would be teaching Defense now, and he wished to see how the spoilt Potter measured up to Malfoy, who had the benefit of the finest dueling instructors since he was a small boy. Dumbledore was always going on about how special Potter was, how gifted. Snape had yet to see anything special about the Golden Gryffindor unless it was insolence and arrogance. Like father, like son.

To the Potion Master's surprise, Potter managed to acquit himself tolerably well, fending off Malfoy's jinx and returning it with a well-cast Tickling Hex. Malfoy doubled over, giggling uncontrollably for a minute or two before shaking off the jinx and getting up. He looked sulky and furious, he was not used to being bested by a mere half-blood, especially one raised by Muggles. He pointed his wand and hissed, "Serpensortia!"

A large cobra suddenly appeared in front of Harry, hood spread and hissing loudly in warning. The snake, awakened abruptly from its nap, it had been sunning itself along a stone wall in Delhi, suddenly found itself in a freezing cold room facing many unfamiliar people. Instinctively, it reared up and hissed, preparing to strike if anyone made the slightest move towards it.

Where am I?

Harry heard the words as if they had been spoken aloud, and wanted to glance around to see who had said them, but dared not look away from the deadly serpent curled mere feet from him. He froze, dread making him immobile.

The cobra began to weave back and forth, searching for a way out of this strange arena.

Malfoy smirked triumphantly, sure that his spell would prove to be Potter's undoing.

Severus' eyes flashed. Damn you, Malfoy! He should have known Lucius' son would not hesitate to use a curse like that, Malfoys were all opportunists and ruthless in pursuit of their goals. Now he had gone and put not only Potter, but the rest of his classmates in danger. Severus' mouth tightened. He was going to have a very long talk with one young Malfoy afterwards about obeying his Head of House. Before he could move to banish the snake, Lockhart interfered.

"Not to worry, I can take care of this!" he boasted and cast a spell no one had ever heard of. "Alarte Ascendare!"

It lifted the snake and slammed it down hard on the floor, making it even more furious than before. It coiled and would have lashed out at Harry, who was still frozen and trying to comprehend why he kept hearing someone screaming swear words in his head, had not Snape reacted with lightning-quick precision.

"Vipera Evanesca!"

The snake vanished, sent back to its home in India.

Several Slytherins cheered at their Head of House's competence. Snape whirled upon Malfoy, giving him a glare that made the boy gulp and back away. Then he turned to snap at Lockhart. "What kind of spell do you call that? Any fool knows that if you strike a snake you are asking to be bitten. Why did you not simply vanish it?"

While Lockhart stammered and attempted to defend his incompetence with one of his charming smiles and pitiful explanations, Harry jumped off the stage, figuring the dueling club was now at an end.

Hermione immediately rushed up to him. "Harry, are you all right! That snake. . .it could have bitten you badly."

"Bloody Malfoy!" Ron grumbled. "He's as bad as Lockhart."

Harry just nodded, wondering if he had imagined the strange voice that had asked Where am I? and had sworn savagely at someone as well. Lately, he had been hearing strange voices all the time, especially when walking to and from class. The voices were vicious, talking all the time of killing and death and hunger. But whenever he looked about, he was alone. He was starting to think he was going round the bend. Because even in the wizarding world, hearing strange voices was not normal.

Harry glanced up at the stage, where he saw Snape giving Lockhart a glare that should have sliced him to ribbons and made him flee the country. But he couldn't bring himself to feel sorry for the blond wizard at all. He deserved every sharp reproof delivered by Snape's razor tongue. Harry had no respect or love for Lockhart after the fool had removed all the bones in his arm after the Quidditch game. If Harry didn't know better, he would have thought Lockhart was trying to kill him, from sheer incompetence if nothing else.

" . . .care nothing for the safety of your students?" Snape hissed. "You are lucky to not have several lying on this floor suffering from a cobra's bite! And yet you claim to be a Defense Master?"

"I . . .well, you see, sometimes in the heat of the moment, I tend to overreact," Lockhart sputtered. "Terribly sorry, old boy. Perhaps next time—"

"Next time you should take my advice and teach your students to block first!" spat the irate Potions professor. Then he whirled upon the students and snapped, "The dueling club is over! Go back to your common rooms immediately!"

The students, not wishing to dare the professor's wrath, scattered like leaves blown in a strong wind. As Harry followed Ron and Hermione from the room, he heard Snape growl, "Mr. Malfoy, I would like a word with you in my office." He flinched and for once was grateful it was not him on the receiving end of Snape's whiplash tongue.

HPSSHPSSHP

That night it began to snow hard, and within an hour the grounds were covered in a thick blanket of fluffy snow. After checking upon the Polyjuice Potion in Moaning Myrtle's bathroom, Ron, Harry, and Hermione rushed outside to frolic in the snow. Harry had only his school robes and thick school jumper to protect him from the cold, since Dudley had used his scarf and gloves to play tug-o-war with Ripper over the summer when Aunt Marge had dropped by for an unexpected visit. He had no coat because he refused to wear Dudley's old one, which was several sizes too big and made him look like a little kid playing dress up with his dad's clothes.

He borrowed some gloves from Neville and figured his robes and jumper would protect him from the snow enough. As he raced ouside, Hermione frowned at him. "Harry, where's your coat? It's snowing!"

Harry shrugged. "I'll be okay, Hermione. I like the cold," he lied glibly. Actually he hated the cold, though he did enjoy playing with his friends.

He had a rousing snowball fight, then the three built a snowman, until the weather worsened and they were forced to go inside. Harry's face was reddened from the cold, but he had never been happier. This was the first time he had ever had friends to enjoy the winter weather with. He stood dripping upon the floor of the castle, stomping his boots to warm his feet, laughing at some quip of Ron's, when Snape swooped down upon them.

"What, may I ask, are you three doing? Up to no good, as usual?"

"No, sir. We were just playing in the snow," Hermione piped up, giving the snarky professor a tentative smile.

Snape eyed her, and then his gaze darted about to Ron and finally Harry. "Potter, where is your coat? Have you no common sense, to walk out into a blizzard without proper outerwear?" Before Harry could reply, Snape continued. "Or do you think that like your mentor Lockhart, your fame will keep you warm?"

Harry flushed and wished Snape blown to Bermuda, or the other side of the world. "Lockhart's not my mentor!" he snapped.

"Mind that tone, Potter. Unless you wish to keep warm scrubbing my dungeon floor?" Snape threatened silkily. Was the child really that scatterbrained, to charge outside in a blizzard and forget he needed a coat? It would appear so.

Harry dropped his eyes to the floor. "No, sir," he mumbled.

"Excuse me? I don't speak mumble."

"He said no, sir," Ron answered impudently, glaring at the potions professor.

"Was I asking you, Weasley? Potter, speak up!"

"No, sir, I don't," Harry said.

"Wise decision," sneered the other, looking almost displeased that Harry had remembered his manners. "Go, get into dry clothes before you end up in the Hospital Wing for your foolishness."

The three hurried past him, Ron muttering "Greasy git!" under his breath.

Once they were safely past Snape's probing gaze, Hermione whispered, "I'm going to check on it once more before going to bed. Just to make sure it's still simmering."

She slipped away to the girls' bathroom while Harry and Ron continued on to Gryffindor Tower.

**Ahhh . . .the sweet scent of blood . . .where are you, little morsel? Come to me . . .let me feast upon your tender flesh . . .I hunger . . .I need to taste . . .Kill . . .must kill them all . . .**

Once again the raspy dark voice was back, sending shivers down Harry's spine. He could practically feel the menace in the voice and knew that whatever it hunted was going to die tonight. He swallowed sharply and looked about, hoping this time to see something, anything.

The corridor was empty of all save he and Ron. "Ron? Do you . . .hear that?"

"Hear what?"

** . . .love to rip and tear . . .kill them all . . .kill them all . . .Master says to kill them all . . .**

Harry saw his friend looking at him oddly. "Harry? You all right, mate?"

He jerked awake from the trance hearing that silky deadly voice put him in. "I . . .yeah. I'm fine. I just thought I heard . . .err . . .never mind." Ron would never believe me if I told him. Never! I wish I didn't believe me. Maybe it's finally happened. I've finally gone round the bend.

He began to walk quickly up the corridor, all the while wondering what they did to kids that heard murderous voices in their heads. Did they send them to an insane asylum? Put them on some kind of potion to keep them from listening to the voices telling them things? Maybe if I just ignore the voices they'll go away? Isn't that what you're supposed to do?

After he reached Gryffindor Tower, he set about doing his homework. Hermione returned soon after that and told them everything was fine and it was almost done. That was a relief. As soon as the potion was finished, maybe then they could finally see of Malfoy really was the Heir of Slytherin, and behind all the attacks in the castle. After what had nearly happened at the dueling club today, Harry was sure Malfoy had to be behind it.

Or maybe the voice is behind it, whispered the lurid part of his mind. It's always going on about killing and eating, how do you know it's not behind these attacks on Mrs. Norris and Colin Creevy? Maybe if you told someone about it, the attacks would stop.

He shook his head rapidly. No, I can't do that. They'll think I'm a nutter and lock me up.

"Harry, what's the matter?" asked Hermione. "Why are you shaking your head?"

"Huh? I'm . . uh . . .my ear was itching. And I had some . . .err . . .water in it. From the snow."

"Oh. Maybe you ought to clean it out with a cotton swab?" she suggested.

"Right. I'll just . . .go do that." Harry gathered up his books and fled into his room, haunted by what he had heard and praying he wasn't making a big mistake.

HPSSHPSS

Harry woke in the middle of the night with a urgent need for the bathroom. He crept down the hall in his pajamas and socks and quickly used the facilities. Just as he finished, he heard the voice yet again.

** So many to choose from, where shall I start? Crunch the bones and swallow the liver . . .delicious! Hot and sweet . . .so nice to eat . . .fear and blood as they breathe their last . . .**

Harry yanked up his pants and bolted from the bathroom, the gurgling hissing laughter still sounding malevolently in his ears.

He reached his room and stood shaking in the middle of it. Terrified and sick, he slammed the palms of his hands against his head. He had to make it stop. He couldn't take it any longer. Now the voice was accosting him in the loo! He couldn't even pee in peace.

You're going mad, Potter. Just like Aunt Petunia said you would. You've gone round the bend. He started to sniffle, despair and terror overwhelming him. Petunia's shrill voice echoed suddenly in his head. Always knew one day you'd come to a bad end, boy. This is what comes of bad blood and hanging about ne'er-do-wells like your mother did.

"Shut up! Just shut up!" He chanted softly.

Once again he heard the voice, hissing and burbling, threatening to rip and tear and eat someone's liver.

He could just imagine what Malfoy and the other Slytherins—hell, the whole school—would say if they knew that Potter heard voices. He would never be able to hold up his head again. Potty Potter, they would call him and snigger behind their hands. He couldn't bear it. This had been the one place he felt safe, felt at home. But now . . .now his haven had turned into a nightmare.

The snores of his dorm mates were suddenly magnified, and the darkness was no longer dispelled by his wand, whose tip was glowing with a faint white light. He had to get away. If he was going to crack up, he didn't want anyone to see. Not Ron, or Hermione, or Dumbledore, not anyone.

He stumbled over to his trunk and began pulling on his jumper and jeans over his pajamas and kicked off his slipper and drew on his sneakers. He felt cold all the way to his bones, but the layers banished the chill somewhat.

Then he left the tower, running as quickly as he could down the stairs, maybe if he ran fast enough, the voice wouldn't catch up to him. He raced towards the Entrance Hall, uncaring if he was making enough noise to wake the ghosts from their rest. All that mattered was getting away from the voice.

He thrust a shoulder against the door, only to find it locked. Frustrated, he nearly began to cry. He had to get out! Stop it! You're a wizard, you ninny, unlock the door! Taking several deep breaths, he drew his wand and pointed it at the lock.

Then he uttered an Unlocking Charm.

There came a loud snick!

The handle turned and he pulled the door open.

It was snowing heavily, and had been for several hours. But he didn't care. The castle was no longer safe. Hogwarts had betrayed him.

He ran out into the blizzard, into the teeth of the storm, and he let the howl of the wind blot out the sound of the voice, mocking him with its malevolent hiss.

HPSSHPSS

Severus coughed sharply, and muffled it with a fold of his sleeve. Dratted students, drooling and sniffling all over their parchments and cauldrons, spreading germs all over. This was why he had developed a damned chest cold. He would have liked to return to his quarters, drink some Pepperup Potion, and spend the rest of the night relaxing with some tea and a good book. Instead, here he was, roaming the corridors, searching for errant students out of bed, because Filch was down with the same flu so many of the children had come down with the previous week. Albus had asked him to fill in for the caretaker, and Severus couldn't refuse, wouldn't let a mere cold keep him from performing his duties.

He had just finished patrolling the library and was making his way towards Gryffindor Tower, his black cloak billowing, his footsteps utterly silent, when he heard it—the sound of running feet.

Ah ha! Someone's out of bed! Let's see who is dumb enough to be wandering about at three in the morning.

Taking points and giving detention would greatly improve his disposition. He smothered another cough and increased his pace, following the sound. It had to be a Gryffindor out of bed this close to the tower. He hurried past the Fat Lady and down the stairs.

As he reached the bottom, a cold draft smote him.

The door of the castle stood open and snow was blowing into the Entrance Hall.

Snape paused, looking around. Surely no student would be stupid enough to run out into a blizzard?

Still, he had to check.

He made his way to the door, and saw to his shock that there were footprints in the snow.

Raising a hand to cover his eyes, he squinted hard, and could just make out a small figure in the distance. The figure was moving rapidly, or at least trying to, through the snow.

Severus blinked and rubbed his eyes. Surely he was seeing things?

But no, there really was a student out there.

Severus swore and wrapped his cloak more tightly about his spare frame. He muttered a charm to keep out the cold and wind. There was no help for it. He would have to go out and bring the imbecile who had decided to go take a walk in a snowstorm back. Just wait till I catch up to whoever the hell it is, he growled silently. Just wait. I'll have them in detention for the rest of their schooldays.

He strode rapidly down the stairs and across the courtyard, shutting the door behind him, and then following the small footprints across the snow drifts. Merlin help the little brat when he caught up to them!

The snow fell, silent but deadly, covering the grounds and the Forbidden Forest with a thick layer of icy white, smothering the grass, covering the holes of rabbits and groundhogs, coating the tree branches until they bent and bowed to the ground. Only the mighty oaks and fir trees stood upright against the onslaught. The wind picked up, making the snow swirl and dance, blowing right in the face of the twelve-year-old struggling to make his way through the trees. It cut through the woolen jumper and cotton pajamas, causing the boy to shiver uncontrollably and clutch his arms tighter to himself. His fingers were frozen, he had forgotten to borrow gloves, he'd been so freaked out by hearing the voice again. He had them tucked up under his arms, he'd read somewhere that would stave off frostbite for a while.

He had been intending to make his way to Hagrid's hut, or the greenhouse, but in the blinding snow, he had taken a wrong turn and ended up passing them by. Unable to see he'd gone off course, he continued wandering about, praying to find some kind of shelter before he froze to death. Snow coated him from head to foot, and melted inside his collar, trickling down his back in an icy stream. His trainers were full of snow, and each step he took felt like he was carrying fifty pounds on his feet.

He stumbled and tripped, once nearly landing face first in the snow. But somehow he managed to keep his feet and kept on trudging, his teeth chattering so badly he felt as if they were about to shatter into pieces. He realized too late that it had been a stupid decision to run outside, but he hadn't been thinking straight when he'd done it, common sense had been eclipsed by fear.

Harry could hardly see in the raging storm, he knew only that somehow he had to find shelter. For some strange reason, despite the fact that he was frozen to the bone, an old Christmas song fluttered through his head. "Chestnuts roasting on an open fire, Jack Frost nipping at your nose . . ." How he wished he were in front of an open fire now! Like in the common room, all toasty and warm. Jack Frost was doing far more than merely nipping at Harry's nose, he'd bitten it clean off.

He passed the boundary and crossed into the forest, only realizing that fact when he had gone a few hundred feet and tripped over a partially buried log. He pitched forward, striking his head against a buried rock.

The world spun about him, he saw ten hundred trees whirling in a stately winter promenade, and the snow spinning and swirling in an endless mist of white and silver. He crawled about two feet beyond the log, blood trickling from a cut on his head before he lay down and surrendered to the blinding pain and cold. His last thought was that at least the snow had made it impossible to hear the bloody voice.

Severus Snape had never been so cold in his entire life. He knew that rumor had it he had a heart of ice, but nothing could have been further from the truth. He was not unfeeling, simple very good at masking his emotions, a survival tactic which had enabled him to live through a very abusive father and being recruited by Voldemort to be his premier brewer of deadly potions. He had not wished to endure either of those things, but fate had never given him a choice. And so he had learned to shut down his emotions and pretend to be cold, hard, and unfeeling. Nothing had cracked that façade until the death of his beloved Lily, that had been the last time he had allowed himself to cry, to truly feel. It had hurt so much that he had retreated behind the wall of ice again, he would rather be numb than to risk such agony again.

Until tonight, when he had caught sight of a student running away, willing to face the fury of a blizzard rather than remain in the castle. Then he had allowed himself to feel anger . . .and not a little fear as well. Fear that he wouldn't be able to find the child before it was too late, and the elements overwhelmed them. This blizzard would probably go on record as one of the worst storms to hit the Highlands in recent memory. And he was out in it trying to find a lost child.

Snow was up to his knees, almost, and despite the warming spells he'd cast, he still felt the cold keenly. This was a killer snowstorm, and ordinary charms weren't able to stand up to this piercing deadly frost for long. With every breath he took, frozen air stabbed his lungs, causing him to cough and gasp. His nose began to run, and he had to pause to wipe it with his handkerchief.

He had begun by following the footprints in the snow, but the blizzard was quickly erasing the small tracks, and soon he knew he wouldn't be able to find the wayward child by sight alone. He lifted his wand and cast a Four Points spell, a generalized one. "Point me my missing student," he muttered and felt a tug upon his wand.

North and east. Towards the Forbidden Forest. Severus growled a curse word under his breath. What the hell had possessed the child to go haring off in the middle of a blizzard? Some asinine dare with his friends? Some sort of strain of lunacy? Or perhaps . . .perhaps the student was suicidal?

Even though that last idea chilled him to the bone, he knew that if the child truly meant to off himself, there were plenty of other ways to do so, easier ways, than getting frozen to death in a blizzard. He shook his head, sneezing. When he got hold of whoever this was, he was going to strip the hide off them, figuratively speaking. His hands were too cold to make the unfortunate child into potions ingredients, more's the pity.

After five more minutes of walking, he felt the spell pull him deeper into the forest. He narrowly avoided barking his shins on a large log, but once he had detoured around it, his Four Points spell dragged him off the trail and to one side.

The toes of Snape's boots stumbled over something unyielding and he nearly measured his length in the snow. "What the hell?" he spat, only then seeing the red sleeve sticking out of the snow. "I should have known—only a Gryffindor would be idiotic enough to do something like this." He knelt in the snow, muttered yet another heating charm, and started to dig away the powdery snow.

He had soon uncovered a shoulder and a head. Dark hair, and a pale face, one that was wearing black-rimmed glasses. Snape's fingers gently brushed the snow away and saw the familiar lightning bolt scar. "Potter!" he nearly howled. He longed to give the reckless brat a good smack upside the head. "What the hell were you thinking?" he snarled, continuing to clear away the snow.

His fingers found the side of Potter's neck. He pressed down, praying to still find a pulse. He felt a flutter. There! It was very faint, hypothermia had set in, but it was there. He breathed out a sharp sigh of relief. The boy was a tremendous annoyance and often made Snape long to shake him till his teeth fell out, but the Potions Master did not wish him dead.

The boy's skin had taken a bluish tinge and when Severus finally lifted him from his frozen bed of snow, he saw that Harry's hands and fingers were frozen stiff and blue. "No gloves, no damn coat!" Snape swore. "If you weren't already out, I'd be tempted to whack you to the moon, you idiot! Didn't anyone ever teach you how to dress for the weather? Were your relatives that bloody dumb? Or weren't you paying attention when your aunt told you to put on a coat and gloves before playing outside?"

He scolded as he cast a Warming charm over the unconscious boy, trying to raise his body temperature a little. He unwrapped his cloak and bundled Harry into it, then cradled him in his arms. "There! Now don't tell me I never gave you anything!" He snarled. He was truly frightened over the boy's condition, and he had never dealt well with fear. He hid it beneath anger, though it still clutched his innards, squeezing him hard. "You had better not die on me, Potter! I didn't risk becoming a bloody snowman just to have you die and spare yourself the lecture of your life, you insane brat!"

He looked up, and realized that he could no longer see the trail he had made through the snow. He no longer knew the right way to get back to the castle, the storm was so fierce it obscured even the familiar landmarks he used to find his way out of the forest.

Damn and double damn!

They needed to find shelter quickly. Potter couldn't take any more of the punishing cold, and if he were being honest, neither could he. His cold had grown worse with exposure to the icy air and he was coughing harder now, and gasping with every breath he took. Harry was nearly blue with cold.

He turned Harry so his face was pressed against his thick velvet robe, shielding him from the wind and snow as best he could. It was then that he heard it . . .the low vicious howl, rising steadily into a high-pitched snarl. Severus glanced about and saw five pairs of eyes approaching in the distance. They glowed with a malevolent light, a putrid yellowish-green, and their clawed feet left black splotches in the snow as they stalked Severus and Harry.

"Bloodspawn!" Severus hissed. "Of course, they would be attracted to fresh meat, especially in such a storm." Bloodspawn were a wizard-bred cross between a cat and a weasel, they were long and sinuous, could move with diabolical speed, and fed upon anything that happened to cross their path, including wizards. They tracked by hearing the blood and heartbeats of their prey, and thus could hunt in any conditions. They were immune to cold and wet, the only thing they feared were dragons. They were abominations created during Grindelwald's rise to power, and a pack of them had settled in the forest some years back. They had pricked ears like a cat, large triangular ones that could funnel sound into them very efficiently. They were a smoky gray color, rippling with muscle and their muzzles were slightly elongated and filled with sharp fangs.

Severus carefully backed away through the snow, keeping eye contact.

The bloodspawn leader met his eyes with savage ferocity, letting loose a low keening sound.

Foot by foot Snape moved away, knowing he had only a few moments before the leader sprang and the rest of the pack followed.

The other bloodspawn began to keen as well, a precursor to the hunt.

Severus cut loose with a bolt of fire, scoring the leader and creating a line of flame across their path. It wouldn't last long, but it could buy him time.

The bloodspawn howled and shrank back.

Snape turned and ran as quickly as he could, his breath rasping in his throat.

On one of his previous expeditions into the forest to gather some rare herbs, he had seen a cave somewhere, if he could just find it . . .he might be able to take shelter in it . . .as he ran, he cast another Locator Charm, using it to pinpoint the cave he had seen.

Behind him, he heard the shrieks and snarls of the bloodspawn as the fire died and the creatures charged after him.

He could practically feel their hot breath on his heels as he fled, trying to stay one step ahead of the starving creatures. He followed the incessant pull of the spell, dodging about trees and occasionally firing off more hexes as he did so. He managed to cast a Notice Me Not hex that would allow him to blend into his surroundings for a few moments, though it wouldn't slow the bloodspawn down much. They did not track by sight, but by heartbeats.

The caterwauling raised the hair on the back of his neck and he forced himself to run faster than he ever had in his life. He glanced back once and saw the lead bloodspawn come bounding through the snow, mouth gaping, eyes slitted in hate. The offspring of misbegotten magical experiments, the bloodspawn hated their wizard creators, and had been made to detest all wizardkind. They lived to hunt and slay those born to magic, and they were salivating with eagerness, drooling in anticipation of sinking their fangs into Snape's ankle and gnawing his foot off.

But as fast as he ran, the bloodpsawn were faster, they had the advantage of four legs, magical speed, and were not hampered by carrying a twelve-year-old unconscious boy through deep snow. They closed on the pair with rapid lunges, and Snape's only hope was to reach the mouth of the cave before they managed to bring him down.

Severus could see the cave ahead, it loomed up starkly against the winter sky. He pushed himself forward, determined to reach the haven, determined to save the boy he had promised to guard. Long ago he had made a promise to an old and dear friend, a promise that would right a great mistake he had made, though no one else knew of it save the one he'd made it to. Another suspected, but didn't know for sure, and Snape did not feel charitable enough to enlighten him.

He raced up the small incline and his boot crossed the threshold of the cave just as the bloodspawn leader closed his teeth about Snape's ankle.

"Rrra-a-a-ow!"

Severus spun about, bringing his opposite boot to bear on the bloodspawn, kicking it as hard as he could in the neck. "Get off me, you bloody bastard! Find something else to snack on, cat!"

The kick hit the bloodspawn hard, and the beast gagged and fell backwards, taking a strip of Snape's boot with it.

Severus sprang for the cave, casting a strong ward against evil creatures as he did so. He just managed to duck inside when the rest of the bloodspawn surged at the barrier, their cries of disappointment echoing loudly over the song of the wind. They smashed into the ward and were burnt and repelled.

Severus limped slightly and walked deeper into the cave, his wand lighting up his path. The cave was oddly warm and the floor was smooth, as if something had been run across it to polish it. Probably water, Snape mused, continuing onward into the cave.

It was surprisingly large and Snape had no trouble navigating it. He halted in what he assumed was the center of the cave, and laid Harry down. Then he knelt and pulled out one of Harry's poor hands from his cloak. He tapped his wand against the blue flesh and muttered a Restoring Charm. As the blood began to flow back into Harry's fingers, they began to change color from frozen blue to a more healthy reddish pink.

Harry stirred, groaning from the intense pain.

He tried to jerk his hand away, it felt as if someone were setting his fingers on fire.

"Ahhh! Stop!" Harry opened his eyes, panicked. Why did his hand hurt so bloody much?

"Potter, relax." Severus ordered, keeping firm hold of his patient's arm. "I know this hurts, but it has to be done. Unless you want to be known as The-Boy-Who-Lived-Without-Hands?"

Harry struggled, whimpering. "Snape? Where am I?"

"That's Professor Snape to you. Stop fighting me!"

"It hurts!"

"Well, you have no one to blame but yourself, running out in the middle of a blizzard without a coat, boots, or gloves!" Severus snapped irritably. "Did you leave all your brains back in Gryffindor Tower?"

He began to rub and chafe the small hand.

Harry gritted his teeth. Much as he disliked Snape, he knew the man was only trying to help him. "Where am I, sir?"

"Somewhere in a cave in the Forbidden Forest," replied Snape curtly, halting his chafing to examine the slender fingers. "Potter, can you move your fingers?"

Harry tried, grunting with the effort. His fingers felt like blocks of wood and they smarted and tingled unmercifully.

"Good. You haven't lost all feeling in them."

"I wish I had." Harry muttered. This hurt worse than re-growing the bones in his arm had.

Severus said nothing, beginning the chafing again.

Harry tried not to squirm or cry, he didn't want Snape to think he was a coward. "How . . .how did . . .you find me?"

"Obviously, I used magic," Snape drawled. "What in hell possessed you to run out in a blizzard?"

Harry clamped his lips together and refused to answer. No way would he reveal to Snape his true reason. As the stinging pain in his hand abated, he started to notice how much his head hurt. It throbbed horribly.

He felt as if a giant vise was squeezing his head.

In spite of himself, two tears trickled down his cheeks.

Snape noticed and blotted them away with his handkerchief. "I'm almost done with this hand," he said gruffly. Potter was bearing up remarkably well, he must have a high pain threshold. Frostbite was painful as hell. He gently massaged the tips of Harry's fingers.

"Th-thanks," Harry managed to get out.

"Are you going to answer my question?" Severus asked pointedly.

"No."

"Don't be rude, Potter! I deserve some explanation since I risked my life to rescue you!"

Harry bit his lip. He couldn't believe Snape had rescued him. It was the last thing he expected. But he didn't know what to say to the potions professor. Snape already thought he was a troublemaker and arrogant, why should he add liar and crazy to the list? Then again, why should he care what Snape thought of him? "I—It was . . .I heard . . ."

Suddenly, in the far back of the cave, a light appeared, a softly glowing golden light.

Then there came a strange noise, a soft shushing scraping sound, as of something raspy being dragged across the stone.

"What was that?" Snape hissed, dropping Harry's hand and coming to his feet, wand at the ready. They were not alone.

The slithering sound continued, and Severus waited tensely.

"Professor, what is it?"

"Quiet, boy!"

A huge serpent slithered into view, it was over twenty-five feet long, a brilliant golden shade with darker golden spots along its back. It had a feathered ruff about its head and sparkling emerald eyes. Its tongue flicked in and out, smelling the two intruders to its lair and it looked them over curiously.

**S-s-so. . .finally s-some visitors to my home. Tell me, what do you do here, little wizards-s-s?**

Harry heard the hissed speech and tried to scramble away. It was happening again. He was hearing voices. "N-o-o!" he wailed. "Leave me alone! I don't want to hear you! I don't want to go mad!" He started to smack himself about the head with his half-healed hand.

Severus gaped at the boy. "Potter, what on earth! Stop that!"

The snake lowered its head and peered at the boy on the floor. **Boy, can you understand me?**

"Shut up! I don't want to hear you!" Harry half-sobbed.

Snape's eyes darted from the snake to the small boy. "Potter, can you . . .understand what the snake says? Do you hear a slightly raspy voice in your head?"

Harry nodded, flinching as Snape grasped his wrist firmly and pulled his hand away. "Y-yes. I'm . . .g-going round the bend . . .totally barmy . . .right?"

Snape snorted. "For heaven's sake, Potter! Just because you can speak to snakes does not make you crazy. It's a rare ability, true, but it doesn't make you mad."

**Indeed not, s-s-mall one. It makes you s-s-marter.** chuckled the serpent.

"I'm talking to a snake?" Harry repeated.

"You're a Parselmouth, Potter."

"How do you know that? How do you know I'm not just going nuts?"

"Because I can understand her as well," Severus answered simply. "One of my ancestors married a daughter of Salazar Slytherin centuries ago and the gift was passed down through her. I too am a Parselmouth."

Harry stared up at his potions professor, struck dumb. He couldn't believe that he and the tall wizard had some ability in common. He was relieved that he wasn't going insane, but at the same time didn't know what to think about his new ability. "A Parselmouth? What's that?"

"It is the name for wizards who can speak to snakes," Severus explained, beginning his ministrations again on the boy's hand. Harry winced. "Flex your fingers for me, child." When Harry did so, he nodded. "Circulation is restored. You'll be stiff for awhile, however."

"Are you the only one who can speak to snakes at Hogwarts?" Harry asked then.

"Except for you, yes. The ability is usually found in Slytherin students, the first Parselmouth was Salazar Slytherin, one of the Four Founders of Hogwarts. Have you never had an episode where you encountered a snake before coming to school?" asked Hogwart's other resident Parselmouth. Most Parselmouths were drawn to seek out snakes and talk to them from a young age.

"Uh . . .yeah, I did see a Brazilian boa constrictor in the zoo once. On Dudley's birthday. And I used magic to free it and my cousin fell into the snake tank. The snake . . .I sort of thought I heard it say something, but Aunt Petunia was screaming so loud I couldn't be sure . . .and then Uncle Vernon grabbed me and dragged me away . . .I never got the chance to say anything to it or hear it talk again." Harry said slowly, trying to recall what had happened last year. It seemed a lifetime away now.

"That would explain your confusion. I find it odd that a Gryffindor, who is usually the polar opposite of a Slytherin, has inherited the ability." Severus peered hard at Harry.

Harry gulped, wondering if he ought to tell Snape the Sorting Hat had nearly put him in Slytherin. "I . . .well . . .err . . .you see . . ." he began hesitantly.

Severus reached for his other hand, frowning in exasperation. "Spit it out, boy!"

"The Hat was going to put me in Slytherin first, but . . ."

"The Hat does not usually change its mind."

Harry swallowed. "I. . .well . . .I asked it not to."

"Why?" Now Snape was scowling. "I suppose, like your sainted father, you thought yourself too good for the House of Serpents?" He sneered unpleasantly.

"No, that's not true! I . . .I like snakes!" Harry protested.

**That is well, little one,** put in the giant golden serpent. **You'd not have been born with the ability else.**

"Really?" Harry gasped, peering at the beautiful serpent. "How can you understand me when I'm not . . .speaking snake language?"

The large snake looked amused . . .if a snake could be said to express that emotion. ** Boy, do you not know what I am?** She swiveled her head to stare at Severus. **Has your wizard master neglected to teach you about my kind?**

"I teach him potions only, Revered One," Severus protested, feeling himself flush slightly at the snake's censure. "I did not know he was a Parselmouth until tonight, else he would have learned all about the different types of magical snakes."

Harry's eyes widened slightly as he heard the soft hissing speech coming out of Snape's mouth, though to his ears it sounded like perfectly spoken English with a few extended softly hissed sibilants. "So, what are you then?"

The serpent turned to face him, swaying gently a foot above his head. **I am a ruffed golden serpent, the offspring of Quetzalcoatl and Gaia, Mother Earth and Skyfather. I served the god Apollo as his counselor and tutor in medicine when he was young. He gave me the name, the Wise One. I have been known by it ever since. As such, I have the gift of tongues. Technically, I am more kin to dragons than serpents, as I am a warmblood. Though I do like to hibernate during the winter. It is entirely too cold here! Ah, how I miss my rocky cave at Delphi! The sun was always so welcoming there. But . . .all things must come to an end. At least here I am not bombarded with requests to heal everything from a hangnail to heart disease. Nor am I hunted for my skin and venom. Welcome to my home, Serpentfriends.** She bent her head in a brief nod.

"We are grateful to have found it. Otherwise we might have frozen to death," Severus acknowledged. "Or been a bloodspawn's next meal."

**S-s-a-a, bloodspawn need to be taken down a peg! They dare to hunt in my territory!** the snake hissed angrily.

Harry didn't understand half of what they were saying. Bloodspawn? And wasn't Quetzalcoatl a Mayan god? "I don't understand. What's a bloodspawn and how did a Mayan god get to Greece?"

The Wise One laughed softly, an odd bubbling hiss. **Poor boy! So confused. But then, your head is injured. The bloodspawn are dark wizard created hybrids which live to hunt and eat good wizards like yourself. As for my sire, a god is not bound by mortal place and time and can be where he wishes when he wishes. Good thing too.** She coiled up a few feet, watching as Severus reclaimed Harry's hand. **Who might I be speaking to?**

It was Harry who answered. "My name's Harry Potter, and this is my potions professor, Severus Snape."

**Well met, Speakers. It has been centuries since I have had a decent conversation with a human. So many two-legs fear my kind and think the only good snake is a dead one. Foolish! Snakes do more to help the environment than any two-legger ever did. It was I and mine who taught Aesclepius the right way to heal injuries and dose patients with medicinal herbs and powders. Although back then, we were called Pythias—which the Greeks translated as Python, though that's not quite correct, since I am both constrictor and venomous.**

"But . . .I always thought a snake could only be one or the other," Harry said.

The Wise One flicked her tongue at him. **And in your sshort life, youngling, have you s-seen all the creatures there are? I am unique among s-s-serpentkind, Harry. I can both constrict my prey and render it paralyzed with a single scratch of my fangs. My venom is only fatal to dark creatures and those who have sworn allegiance to the dark. Otherwise, it is an elixir of potent healing efficacy. Long ago, petitioners would come to Delphi to beg the priestesses there for a tiny vial of my venom. Snake's milk, they called it, and it was known as the panacea for all ills. Of course, that is a bit . . .exaggerated.**

"But didn't Apollo defeat the Python in the Greek myths?" Harry asked, recalling that old story from his primary school days.

**Defeat me! S-s-such strange things you mortals tell!** The Wise One looked highly amused. **Always you two-legs must vanquish us. Hiss-ss! Apollo had no need to fight me, I was always his friend. I taught him the Healing Arts and how to do things in moderation and to make thoughtful decisions. I was his advisor for a long time, and during that time, I and mine were s-s-sacred, revered, and never hunted or killed. It was not till much later that opinions changed, and men and wizards feared us, called us s-s-servants of evil and tried to des-s-troy us."

"Oh," said Harry, feeling a bit stupid, though how he could have known the truth was beyond him. "Is that why you're hidden away here?"

**Partly. I enjoy the s-s-solitude. But it's also for ssafety. Even here, serpents are s-s-still reviled. That is why only you S-speakers are allowed to enter my home. No one else may even catch a glimpse of it.**

"Honest? Professor Snape and I are the only ones who can find the cave?" Harry asked. He rather liked having a secret place only he could find, and was sort of annoyed having to share it with Snape. The Wise One nodded. Harry felt a sudden sharp pain in his hand as Severus pressed down upon the thawing fingers. He jerked his hand and tried to pull away. "Oww! Could you try and be more gentle? You're mashing my fingers."

Snape shot him a pointed glance. "I am not "mashing" your fingers, Potter. In order to restore circulation I have to massage them firmly. Now, why did you not let the Hat put you in my House?"

"Because Ron said You-Know-Who was in there and he murdered my parents. And Malfoy was acting like a stuck-up prat." Harry snapped. Then he yelped as the familiar burning sensation started in his fingers. "Don't you have . . a potion I could take for the pain?"

Severus sighed. "Potter, I do not carry a pharmacy around in my robes. I was patrolling the halls, not visiting the Hospital Wing." He began to massage the base of Harry's thumb. "I know this is painful, but you must bear with it."

Harry squirmed despite himself. His right hand seemed to hurt worse than his left one had. "Easy for you to say."

**Perhaps I may be of assistance?** the Wise One offered. She uncoiled rapidly until she had five feet of her length stretched out beside Harry's prone form. **Now then, littling. Look into my eyes.** She suddenly thrust her face into Harry's, speaking in a soft singsong tone, her emerald eyes growing larger and mesmerizing.

Harry felt himself start to drift off, the Wise One's eyes were compelling and hypnotizing.

**Very good. Look at me.** The serpent began to gently coil about the boy, wrapping him snuggly in her coils. Harry was not uncomfortable, in fact he felt warmer than he ever had in his life. **You are cold as ice, child. Not good at all. Now, relax and breathe in the mist.** She snapped her ruff back and then forward and a fine white mist sprayed Harry right in the face.

He breathed it in and felt sleepy and utterly free of pain. Everything was blessedly numb. "Feels good . . ." he muttered drowsily.

"What did you do to him, Wise One?" asked Severus respectfully.

**My ruff contains glands which produce a soporific and narcotic mist. I have put him into a twilight sleep so you may treat him without further pain. He is suffering from frostbite and exposure to the cold, yes?** answered the snake.

Severus nodded. "He ran out into the storm without so much as a pair of gloves on. Sometimes he makes me doubt he has any common sense at all!"

The serpent chuckled. **That is the case with any offspring. I doubted at times -sssome of mine would live to sshed their first s-s-skin, they were so . . .reckless-ss. But then, that is why they need our guidance, is that s-s-o, S-Severus S-S-Snape?**

Snape answered in an affirmative hiss and continued to work on Harry's hand until the boy's hand was a normal pink color once more. "There! At least now he won't be in danger of having his fingers amputated."

**You are a competent Healer,** the Wise One noted approvingly.

"Hardly. I . . .just know the basics, Wise One."

The Wise One hissed. **Modesty does not become you, S-Severus-s. You are a powerful wizard and all Speakers are Healers in s-s-ome way. That is-s-s the nature of a Parselmouth.**

"Maybe, but I know of one Parselmouth who has never Healed anything," Severus disagreed.

The Wise One cocked her head.

"His name was Tom Riddle. But now he's known as Lord Voldemort, the darkest of dark wizards. His familiar is a queen cobra called Nagini."

The Wise One looked dismayed. **That is too bad. S-Still, even Parselmouths may go dark. Perhaps-s-s before he became dark he had s-s-ome Healer tendencies. Now, though, he must be very dangerous-s-s. A dark Healer us-s-sually is.**

"Oh, he is. Believe me, he is," Snape said, shuddering as he recalled some of Voldemort's more depraved pastimes, like vivisection.

The serpent gave him a knowing look. **He hurt you badly, child, did he not?**

Severus looked away, he was not used to admitting weakness to anyone, not even this magnificent creature, who seemed so wise and kind and knowing. He didn't want her feeling sorry for him. "I . . .chose the path I walked."

The Wise One thrust her head into his face, her emerald eyes whirling. **There are choices and choices, S-S-Severus. S-Sometimes choices are made from circumstances beyond your control. S-Such was what happened to you. But when given an opportunity, you chose the right path.**

"That doesn't negate what I did before."

**Or what was done to you. All of us have made bad decisions in our lives, nothing is perfect, not even nearly immortal s-s-serpents like myself.** The Wise One said, laying her head for a brief moment upon Severus' shoulder. Her tongue gently caressed his cheek and he felt a measure of peace flow into him.

He reached up a hand and gently stroked her scales, they were smoother than silk and radiated a soothing warmth. "So warm," he marveled.

**Indeed. I am as warm as you need me to be. Do not dwell upon the past. What is done, is done. Instead think about the present and what you can do to make a difference here and now. As you did with the boy here.**

Severus looked down at Harry, who was dozing in the Wise One's coils, and felt a small spark of compassion flare within him. "It is my duty to save him from himself."

**A duty you chose. And therein lies all the difference,** the snake said simply, then withdrew her head to fan Harry with some more mist. **Do what you mus-s-t to tend him, S-severus. I s-s-shall hold him steady while you work.**

"Thank you." He set to work, removing Harry's sneakers and socks, exposing his frozen feet. Harry's toes were bluish and his foot was mottled blue and white. Severus placed the tip of his wand at Harry's ankle and chanted the same Restoring charm he had used upon Harry's hands, gently drawing the wand down over the top of the foot and across the toes, sending the magic where it was most needed.

The Wise One watched approvingly. This one should have been a Healer, she thought. He had the instinct, though he buried it beneath a façade of sarcasm. There was much pain in this one, she thought sadly. Much guilt also for things he wished had been otherwise and decisions made too young. One of her abilities was to read auras and what she saw in Snape's aura both saddened and made her angry. How many graves have you wept over alone, Severus? How much guilt can you bear before your heart freezes like ice? 'Tis the season of warmth and giving, remember? And I fear you and Harry shall need all the warmth I can give you, inside and out.

She turned her gaze upon the younger of the pair and hissed softly at what she saw in his aura as well. He too had been marked by the Dark, through a vicious attack as a baby, and had faced evil more than once. Poor boy, to know such pain and suffering so young. But perhaps . . .with the help of your mentor, you can heal. You both need each other, though you may not know it yet. He is the best—the only protector you shall ever need. And he loves you, Harry, though he doesn't know it yet.

The Wise One said nothing to either wizard of her musings, like all snakes, she knew when to keep her own counsel. What she saw would come to pass in its own time and way.

Severus continued to massage and encourage the flow of blood to Harry's extremities, thankful to the golden serpent for putting the boy to sleep so he did not have to endure anymore pain. Snape did not like it when Harry was in pain, he did not enjoy watching children suffer, though he had seen all too much of that in the past, as Dumbledore's agent, his eyes and ears in the Death Eater camp. They had enjoyed the pain and suffering of others and sometimes, despite his revulsion, he had been forced to join them, forced to sully his soul with dark magic. The things I have seen I would wish upon no one. The things I have done in the name of the Light would make an Auror cringe, and no one can understand what pain means until you are forced to inflict it upon an innocent. This once, I can honestly say that pain has a purpose, and it will end in a good way. This once, I can save instead of destroy.

Harry groaned, but the snake's coils held him still despite his attempts to thrash about.

Severus finished with the right foot and began on the left, repeating the same procedure.

While he healed, the snow fell outside, covering the entire forest beneath a frosty coverlet and burying the entrance to the cave so that not even the bloodspawn could sense them.

Severus paused once or twice during his task to rub his eyes and rest a bit, he was still feeling the effects of the cold himself and though the air inside the cave was warm, his chest was still heavy with phlegm. He wished he had thought to shove a Pepperup Potion into his pocket when he went to patrol the school. Then perhaps he wouldn't have to stop and blow his nose every fifteen minutes.

He wondered what time it was, and thought it might be close to five o'clock in the morning. No one would have missed either Potter or himself as yet, but Snape decided to send out a Patronus after he had finished healing Harry. That way no one would go crazy searching for a missing Harry or accuse him of kidnapping.

**Are you ill, S-s-severus?**

"Huh? No. Just a slight cold. Nothing to worry about," Severus reassured the Wise One. "I'm almost done here." He started to coax the blood back into Harry's other foot.

Just then Harry opened his eyes. They were glazed over and half-aware. He looked about at the stark gray walls and muttered, "Where am I? Not in my cupboard . . .must be in hell . . .'s where Aunt Petunia always said I'd end up.. ."

Severus looked over at the boy in alarm. "What are you babbling about, Potter? Is he out of his head?" he asked the golden snake.

**S-sometimes my mist has that effect upon mortals. It causes them to relive memories and events . . .good or bad . . .**

"Real or hallucinations?" Severus queried curiously.

**Real, of course.**

Severus did a doubletake. Potter was in a cupboard? What in hell was that supposed to mean? Petunia had told him he'd end up in hell? That doesn't really surprise me, she always was a nasty piece.

But what Harry said next shocked him to the very core of his being.

Harry whimpered, tossing his head from side to side, as if trying to escape something terrible. His mouth worked soundlessly for a moment, then he blurted, "It's so warm here . . .never been this warm before . . .I must be dead and in hell or something . . .Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon always told me all freaks go to hell, 'specially ones that murder their mums . . ." His breath began to catch and tears trickled from his eyes. "Sorry, Mum . . .so sorry . . .that crazy madman blew you up 'cause of me . . .'cause you wouldn't let him take me, so he killed you and my dad too . . ."

Severus felt his jaw come unhinged and fall onto the floor. "That's not true!" he half-protested. "It's a monstrous lie! How could that . . .that rotten bitch tell him that? He was just a baby . . .any mother would have given her life to save her child, Lily was no different!" He had never liked Petunia, even when they were children together. This revelation made him long to cut her tongue out with a dull knife. To tell her nephew such an awful thing, out of sheer spite and malice . . .she belonged in hell, not Harry!

**Hush, S-s-severus. There is more to this ssorry tale, I'd wager.** The Wise One hissed.

After a moment, Harry went on, "I'm sorry, Mum and Dad, I tried to make them like me . . .but I guess it's true what they always said . . .nobody loves a freak, even if they're related to them . . .that's why they love Dudley and not me . . ." Suddenly he flinched and cringed, whimpering, " . . .I won't do it again, Uncle, promise . . .don't leave me here . . .it's cold . . .I'll freeze out here . . .please, sir, I won't ever magic Dudley again, it was an accident . . ." He began to tremble, shivering with remembered cold. " . . .so cold in the shed . . .nothin' to keep warm . . .idiot . . .shouldn't've lost my temper . . .now you've gone and done it . . .if you're lucky, Aunt might let you out b'fore you freeze . . ."

Severus stared at the boy with disbelief and horror. Surely he was not hearing right. Harry Potter was the Golden Child, placed with rich relatives who catered to his every wish and whim. He was spoiled and arrogant, just like James Potter. Dumbledore sent money every month for his keep, making him even more spoilt than the average rich boy. Or so Snape had always assumed. Dumbledore had never told him otherwise, and whenever Severus had asked about the boy, the old wizard always assured him that he was being looked after. "No need to concern yourself, Severus. Harry is fine, he lives in a large Muggle house and his relatives are well off, they only have one son and Harry, I am sure the boys are best friends and he is being well taken care of. He is their nephew, why wouldn't they love him? You've kept your promise, my boy, no need to interrupt your experiments to check on him."

Severus had always allowed himself to be swayed by Albus's words, because the Headmaster would never allow anything bad to happen to The Boy Who Lived, the celebrity of the wizarding world, now would he? It had been so easy to just let things go, and allow his jealousy to prevent him from doing what he should have done long ago, keep an eye upon Lily's son. Once again, he had failed her. And failed himself. "They left him out in the cold to die!" he muttered furiously, though he didn't know if he were angrier at the callus Dursleys or himself.

The Wise One looked puzzled. **Correct me if I am in error, but . . .do not humans cherish and protect their littlings as snakes do? Or, at least, ruffed serpents raise their young till they are grown enough to fend for themselves. Yet it seems to me that . . .he was neglected and unloved. I do not understand why this should be so. Why would they hate him? He bears no true dark taint upon him.**

"Most humans love their children, Wise One. I know Lily and James did. But there are some who . . .fear those with magic's gift. His aunt and uncle do. Like my father, they believe that anyone with magic is . . .abnormal."

**Ah, the old story. Fear gives way to hate, and hate to destruction. It was that which caused my kind to be driven from my homeland and hunted without mercy, reviled as beasts and called evil. They claimed snakes lived to slay humans, when nothing could be further from the truth! We wish only to be left alone, to live out our lives in peace, and would be quite happy to never encounter a human. Yet somehow we are made to be the aggressors.** The Wise One made a disgusted noise.

Severus felt compelled to apologize.

**For what do you owe me an apology? You were not among those who drove me out of Delphi. You have nothing to be sorry for.** She gently nuzzled Harry, whose green eyes were still haunted and seeing things that had happened years ago, lost in the horrors of the past.

"Coming, Aunt Petunia! I'll . . .try not to burn the bacon next time . . .Brilliant, Harry! Guess that means no breakfast again . . .Right away, Uncle Vernon! . . .If I finish early, could I . . .maybe . . .have a bit of lunch, sir . . .Yessir, they won't see me, I'll be in my room, pretending I don't exist . . .I'm not being cheeky, Uncle, honest . . .I know how important this account is . . .But I have to go back to Hogwarts . . .it's the one place I feel at home . . .it can't be any more dangerous than being here . . .they want me to leave . . .and I can't wait to go . . .no one at school gives me dirty looks or hates me there . . well, except Snape . . .wish I knew why . . .he has it in for me. But at least . . .he can't starve me or lock me up, all he can do is give me detention . . .and scrubbing cauldrons isn't half bad compared to cleaning up Dudley's room . . .or his bathroom . . .or mulching the beds with my bare hands . . ."

Severus flinched. He thinks I hate him. Only I . . .don't. He annoys me past bearing with his insolence and disrespect and his reckless behavior, his disregard of school rules, but I don't . . .hate him. I saved his life last year, for Merlin's sake!

**S-Severus, you are his master, why then does he believe you hate him? Do you not treat him well?**

The Wise One's probing question made him feel something he had not felt in a long time—shame. "I . . .not always . . ." he admitted, in Parseltongue it was well nigh impossible to lie, snakes did not practice deceit, rumors to the contrary. "I assumed, wrongly, that he was a spoiled brat who needed discipline and a firm hand . . .I did not know what sort of life he lived, till now . . .he never said anything to anyone . . .I thought he was like his father . . .a strutting preening bully who loved his fame and himself more than anything . . ." He shook his head in disgust. "Some spymaster I am! Bah! Lily would boil me in my own cauldron if she knew what a bloody imbecile I'd been."

**I see. Did you . . .s-s-strike him then? I have s-s-seen wizards discipline their apprentices thus . . .** The Wise One's eyes narrowed in disapproval.

"No! I have never raised a hand to him, such is not my place, I am a teacher not his father, and even so I would never stoop to physical correction, not after . . ." he trailed off, trying to repress his own awful memories.

But the Wise One saw the memories in the flicker of an instant before he closed off his mind. **Not after you endured such yourself as a youngling,** she finished.

"What? How do you know that? No one knows that, no one except Lily ever knew . . . and she took that secret to her grave."

The Wise One gave him an inscrutable look. **Forgive me, I do not mean to pry, but your aura is very bright and therefore easy for me to read. I catch glimpses of your life and Harry's as well, through your auras I see what has gone before.**

"Is that how you became so wise?" asked the Potions Master, somewhat sarcastically.

**Not entirely. Most of my wisdom has been gained over centuries. It would seem to me that you and your apprentice seem to have some misconceptions to work out. Both of you come from sssimilar s-s-situations, perhaps you s-s-should think about that and use it to . . .find some common ground, hmmm?**

"Yes, I suppose . . ."

**You hesitate. Do you not wish to make amends for your actions towards this child?**

"I . . .yes, but I . . .don't know how. . ."

**You s-should start by apologizing for your misconceptions . . .yes-s-s?**

Severus frowned, apologies had never come easy to him. But the Wise One was right. He had to start somewhere. The boy deserved that much. What he had learned of Potter's life chilled him to the bone. "You are sure these . . .revelations are true memories and not . . .hallucinations?"

**Indeed. The mist I exude has an odd effect upon humans. Under its influence, no lies can be told.**

"Sounds like Veritaserum," Snape muttered.

**Pardon? I am not familiar with that term.**

"It's a potion that makes people speak the truth, even against their will."

**How interesting. But the mist does not compel, it merely s-suggests-s-s.**

Severus arched an eyebrow, suspecting that the suggestion was probably hard to overcome, unless one was very skilled in the mind arts. Which Potter was not. Which meant that everything Potter had said was nothing but the truth. How could it have happened that Potter had been abused right under the nose of Dumbledore and the Order, who were supposed to be keeping an eye on him? Someone should have noticed. Unless they didn't know what to look for. Snape knew, none better, how an abused child was trained to hide it, and to never ever let anyone know about it. He had been conditioned thus, and even now, years later, when the one who had hurt him was long since dead, he still found it difficult to speak of it. Had you kept your promise and gone to see what was happening at Privet Drive, you might have noticed something amiss before now, chided his conscience sharply. Who knows the signs better than one who has lived through it? The other members of the Order wouldn't recognize them, they all had happy home lives, and they wouldn't notice things that were obvious to another survivor.

But he had become complacent, and ignored the first rule a spy ever learned, to never get information secondhand, but always see for oneself. This never should have happened. He thought back to yesterday as he started massaging Harry's foot again. How the boy had rushed out to play in the snow without a coat or hat or even a pair of snow boots. He had assumed that was because Potter had been too eager to play with his friends and disregarded the weather, like most children did unless a parent prompted them to remember. But what if Potter had done so because he didn't own any winter wear? Given what he had learned, Snape wouldn't have put it past the Dursleys to not have bought the boy proper outerwear, why throw good money away on a freak who they wish had died?

He would have to talk with the boy once he was fully awake. He only hoped that Potter would not try and hide the truth from him. For in order for Snape to take action against the Dursleys, Harry needed to admit to the neglect and abuse without being influenced by anything. That was one of the first things the Wizarding Children and Youth Department insisted upon, that no coercion of any sort, magical or otherwise, be used to make a child speak about an abusive past. It had to be totally voluntary on the part of the child, unless the child was too young to know the difference, then Pensive memories might be used as evidence.

Finally satisfied that circulation had been restored to both feet, Snape replaced Harry's socks, after casting a Drying and Warming Charm over them. The Potions Master was now exhausted and his last bit of spellcraft was to conjure his Patronus, a white doe, and send it to Dumbledore, to inform the Headmaster about what had occurred, though he made no mention of Potter's past. That discussion was one he needed to have later, in private, once they were back in the castle.

Right then, Severus was too tired to contemplate any kind of discussion with Albus or Harry. All he wanted was to sleep. He wrapped his cloak about his lean frame, coughing slightly, and removed his boots. He managed to Transfigure his extra handkerchief into a pillow before curling up on the floor. Within moments he was asleep.

The Wise One hissed in annoyance. **Stubborn wizard! You shall make yourself stiff lying upon the floor that way!** She carefully uncurled and slithered over to the black-robed figure, gently wrapped him in her coils and lifted him up. He never woke. The golden snake quickly coiled half her body beneath Potions Master and Harry, so the two wizards were sleeping atop her, warmed by her high body temperature. Sleep is the panacea for all ills, thought the Wise One. May Hypnos bring you good dreams, my Speakers. Tomorrow is s-ssoon enough to resolve what lies between you.

Then she laid her head down and drifted into a lazy doze, accompanied by the snores of the congested Severus and Harry.

When Harry finally awoke from his magical sleep, he felt much better than he had before. His fingers and toes ached a little, but nothing like they had while Snape was massaging them. He sat up, wondering why he felt so very warm, and his hand touched the Wise One's scales. He glanced down and realized he had been sleeping on the golden snake. Merlin! I've been treating her like a mattress! Why didn't Snape put me on the ground once he was done torturing me? He felt himself flush, first for treating the revered snake, whose sire was a god, like a piece of furniture, and then for accusing the professor of torture, when he knew perfectly well that Snape had only done what was necessary to save his feet and hands.

He started to sit up, and only then did he see Snape slumbering next to him, his mouth open slightly, snoring a bit. Harry just gaped for about two seconds, then he started to snigger. Who would have thought that Snape, the great dungeon bat, snored? Merlin, but it was too funny! Well, look at his nose, Harry. He's got such a crooked beak, no wonder he snores. Harry's green eyes danced with mischief and he peered at the unsuspecting Snape, who must have had that nose broken at one time, for surely no one was born with a nose that crooked?

Snape gave a sort of snuffling snore, then coughed. Harry drew back, then an imp of mischief possessed him. He withdrew a handkerchief filched from Snape's pocket and dangled it in front of his teacher's nose, smothering laughter as it blew back and forth in time to Snape's snores. Then he lowered it, inch by inch, until it tickled Severus's nose. Teasingly, he made it brush Snape's skin, and was rewarded with a sudden sneeze.

Harry lowered the handkerchief again, smirking widely.

"Ahh-ahh-CHOO!"

Severus sneezed so violently that he woke himself up.

Harry found himself staring right into those bright obsidian orbs. "Oops! Uh . . . good morning, professor!"

Severus frowned upon seeing the handkerchief dangling from Harry's fingers. "Potter, why are you holding my handkerchief that way?"

Harry gulped. How could he have been so stupid as to play a stupid joke on Snape, who was known for his utter lack of humor? "Err . . .ahh . . .I was . . .umm . . ."

The obsidian eyes narrowed. "Was that handkerchief, perhaps, the reason why I find myself sneezing all of a sudden?"

Harry dropped his eyes. "Err . . .maybe . . ."

"Do you know the Hogwarts motto, Potter?"

Harry blinked. Snape was not acting at all how he expected. Where was the sneer, the sharp tongue that flayed him raw? "Umm . . .it's . . .never tickle a sleeping dragon." He replied after a few moments of frantic thought. Luckily, Hermione had mentioned that just yesterday. So at least he didn't look like a total dunce, like he usually did in front of Snape.

Severus looked startled that he knew the correct answer. "Exactly. There is another saying very similar to that one. It is never tickle a sleeping Potions Master. Because a Slytherin always gets even."

Harry blanched when he saw the evil gleam in Snape's eyes. He started to slide backwards. But he was too slow.

Snape snapped his fingers and a quill levitated out of his pocket and began to tickle Harry unmercifully about the neck and beneath the arms, making him start laughing uncontrollably. He rolled about, giggling, until he finally gasped, "Please, sir! No more! You almost made me . . .wet myself."

Snape cancelled the spell after one last poke. "Serves you right."

The quill fluttered into Snape's lap.

Harry wiped his eyes and then realized that Snape had actually teased him back! It was so amazing to discover that his snarky professor was acting like a normal person for once that he couldn't respond. Who would have thought that Snape could be so . . .sneakily playful? "Sorry, sir. But I couldn't resist." He admitted cheekily.

"Do try and restrain yourself, Potter," said the potions professor dryly.

Harry stared down at the snake scales and muttered, "I can't believe we're lying on her. How did I get here?"

"She put you here, as she did me." Severus answered quietly, not wishing to disturb the snake's slumber. "Now, why don't you try and speak quietly so she can sleep in peace?"

"All right," agreed Harry. Then he grimaced. His bladder was uncomfortably full and he really needed to find a bathroom. "Err . . .sir . . .I have to . . .go."

"Go where?" Severus repeated incredulously. "In case you haven't noticed, there's a blizzard outside, Potter, and you are still suffering from exposure and hypothermia. You aren't going anywhere, unless it's back to Hogwarts. I didn't spend all my time fixing your feet and hands only to have you ruin my hard work by—"

"No! No, you don't understand, sir. I didn't mean I was going to leave, I just need to use a bathroom." Harry sputtered, flushing.

Severus frowned. This hadn't occurred to him before, but it should have. He quickly slid off the Wise One's coils and stood on the ground. He still felt a lingering tiredness and his cough had worsened, but not enough for him to be concerned about it. Snape quickly walked to the other side of the snake and then called out to Harry. "Come, Potter. I shall assist you."

"Huh? But I don't need any assistance," protested Harry, sliding down before he could think better of it.

""I don't want you injuring your feet all over again, they're very tender at this stage," Severus argued. He bent and lifted Harry off his feet.

"Put me down! I can walk," Harry squealed.

Severus ignored him and started to walk towards the back of the cave.

"Where are you taking me?"

Severus reached a point almost at the very back of the cave, where a small freshet of flowing water was running through the rocky floor, and set Harry down. A wave of his wand Transfigured a rock into a porcelain commode. "There. That should be adequate."

He turned and walked a few feet away, pretending to ignore Harry's bright red ears.

Harry was tempted to accuse him of deliberate embarrassment, then supposed it could have been worse. At least it wasn't a bedpan. He quickly used the facilities, washing off his hands in the freshet, which was icy cold. He dried his hands on the end of his robe.

When he looked up, Snape was by his side. "Finished, Mr. Potter?"

"Yes." Harry knew he was blushing. "I can walk, sir."

"You can, but I would advise against it right now." Before the boy could protest yet again, Severus picked him up. He found Harry a featherweight for his age, and scowled inwardly. Being underweight suggested that he had been starved in addition to the neglect he had suffered. He's nothing but skin and bones. Bloody skinflint Muggles!

Harry was trying hard to pretend he wasn't being carried like a baby by his least favorite professor, and so missed the glower that appeared on Severus' features. But the twelve-year-old couldn't help but marvel at the sinewy strength in Snape's arms. The professor carried him effortlessly, and Harry felt oddly safe with him doing so. Strange, this was the first time Harry could recall Snape touching him voluntarily, unlike Dumbledore, who was forever giving him a friendly clap on the shoulder. Snape was much more reserved, Ron and Harry had joked once that the Potions Master was colder than ice, without a shred of emotion. But now, with Snape holding him, Harry started to doubt that early assessment. Snape was carrying him firmly but gently, not like one would carry, say, a sack of potatoes. The fact that he was carrying Harry at all spoke volumes. Would a man that hated him bother with worrying about his frostbitten feet? Or fixing them in the first place?

Confused, Harry remained silent until Severus set him down next to the slumbering serpent.

To his surprise, Snape sat down across from him and eyed him sternly. Uh oh. Here it comes. He's going to take away 100 points and give me detention for the rest of the year.

Instead, Snape asked him something totally unexpected. "Potter, why in your mad dash outside did you not think to put on a coat beforehand? Especially after I had reminded you earlier that day?"

Harry blinked. Huh? "A coat?"

Snape rolled his eyes. "Yes, boy, a coat, which one normally wears when it's snowing, or do you enjoy playing Russian roulette with hypothermia?"

"Russian roulette?" Harry repeated. Why was Snape so hung up on whether or not he had a coat? Did he remind Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle to put a coat on when they went outside?

"Never mind," Severus shook his head. Clearly Potter had never watched James Bond. He had figured he would start his interrogation with something easy and work his way up to the big question gradually. "You have developed hypothermia and frostbite because you failed to put on a coat and boots. It boggles my mind why you would forget such a necessary item." Snape said in Parseltongue.

Harry was startled that Snape was using the snake language and answered in turn, "Because I don't have a coat here at school." That was not what he was intending to say, but Parseltongue wouldn't permit him to say he forgot his coat.

"You mean to tell me that you forgot your coat at home and didn't bother to owl your aunt and uncle to send you it?" Snape asked, still in the same tongue.

"Err . . . my uncle hates getting owl post. He's afraid someone will notice." Harry answered. That was most definitely true. Anytime Harry mentioned school or magic, Vernon nearly had apoplexy. "But I was going to write them a normal letter and have Hermione post it for me when she went home for the holiday." He said quickly in normal speech. Actually, he hadn't even given it a thought, knowing full well how much the Dursleys cared about him having a coat and boots. He had figured he would make do, like always. Hermione had told him there was a Warming Charm he could learn, then he wouldn't need to worry about a coat. But so far he hadn't had time to study it.

"Potter, in case you haven't noticed, there is the small matter of a blizzard raging right now." Snape said sternly. He reached in his pocket and came up with a quill and a sheet of parchment, which was something he normally always had on him. "Here, write a letter to your aunt right now and I shall post it as soon as we are out of here. That way they should be able to send you the items by Muggle or owl post and they should arrive here before Christmas. It's the nineteenth of December, I believe."

Harry hesitated, wondering if he ought to tell Snape the truth, that the Dursleys wouldn't even bother to respond to his letter, would probably chuck it in the nearest trash bin as soon as it arrived. But then he shrugged and began to write, the quill appeared to be magicked to remain ever full of ink. Snape would never believe the truth, he thought Harry was a spoiled brat and full of himself.

Severus watched Harry write the letter. It took him a few minutes, then he handed the letter to Snape. "How do you know about Muggle post, sir?"

"Not everyone in the wizarding world is as self-absorbed or clueless as Lockhart. I know more than most, however because I'm a half-blood and grew up Muggle."

"Really? Like Seamus Finnegan." Harry exclaimed.

Severus nodded.

"Which one of your parents had magic?"

"My mother. My father was a Muggle." Snape replied shortly, wondering why he had even bothered to mention that. "I lived on the same street as your mother."

Harry's eyes went wide. "Did you . . .know her then? And Aunt Petunia?"

"Yes. I was the one who introduced her to the magical world. We . . . played together as children." Severus said slowly.

"Did Aunt Petunia know you also?"

"She did, but I didn't care for her. She always looked down upon me and Lily for having magic. I believe she resented her younger sister for having an ability she never could."

"Oh. Yeah, she's well . . . like that. Funny, she never mentioned that she knew anyone from the wizarding world." Harry mused.

"Maybe that's because she preferred to forget anyone like me ever existed." Severus surmised. "How often did she tell you about your mother?"

Harry looked him square in the eye. "She never talked about her. Except once or twice. I used to think it made her sad, but maybe it was because it was like you said, she wanted to forget about wizards and witches and magic. My Uncle Vernon refused to even let the word magic be mentioned in his presence."

"Your aunt never showed you pictures of your mother, or your father, or you as a baby?" Severus probed.

Harry shook his head. "No, sir. I asked once, when I was five, and she said she didn't want any reminders of her sister or her family, that I was enough of one." Harry deliberately didn't mention what happened after that, which was getting thrown in his cupboard without supper for a day and a night, for bringing up unmentionable subjects. "Sir, can I ask you a question?"

"Yes, you may," Snape corrected.

"Why are you asking me about my family?"

"That is a difficult question to answer. However, I shall endeavor to do so. But first, let me explain something. Last night, when I brought you here, you were quite close to death. Your body temperature was close to a corpse and your hands and feet were like blocks of ice. You were extremely lucky that my spells restored circulation to your fingers and toes, or else you might have had to get a foot or hand amputated."

Harry stared at him, horror racing through him. The mere thought of losing a body part like that made him queasy. "Oh. I . . . didn't realize it was that bad. Thanks for saving me."

"I know. I'm not telling you this to be cruel, but to make certain you understand how serious your condition was and still is. You're still suffering the effects of hypothermia, despite our host's dry cave, you really need to be inside the castle. However, temporarily we are stuck here, and so must make the best of it. In any case, most people in your condition would call out for their family for comfort. You did not. I find that odd, considering that Headmaster Dumbledore assured me that you were well provided for and came from a well-to-do Muggle household."

Harry shrugged. "I'm used to looking after myself." He was tempted, oh, he was so tempted, to tell Snape about his real life at the Dursleys. But he couldn't. He had been conditioned not to speak about it, and he feared Snape would not believe him anyway.

Severus frowned. "Your relatives expect much of a twelve-year-old boy."

"Oh no, sir. They don't expect much of anything from me," Harry disagreed.

"And why is that, do you think?" Snape hissed. "Is it because of your attitude, or perhaps because they . . . simply don't care?"

Harry knew which choice was the right one. But he couldn't say so. Instead he tried to act like he was dumb. "I don't understand, sir."

Severus' keen gaze narrowed. "Don't you? You talk in your sleep, Potter. Do you know that?"

"No." Harry felt a sudden chill race down his backbone.

"In your sleep you revealed to me several things about your relatives . . . hideous things that led me to believe that you are being subjected to abuse. I want you to answer me truthfully, Potter, and tell me no lies. Are your relatives abusive?"

It was a simple question, one that could be answered yes or no. But for Harry, it was also fraught with peril. He felt ashamed admitting his weakness to this man. True, Snape had saved him, but he still felt the other wizard was judging him. He did not want to face the other's censure, see that smirk cross his lips, because despite the other's animosity towards him, Harry wanted Snape to like him, or if not like, than at least respect. And telling Snape the truth would be the quickest way to make Snape think he was a gutless coward. So his only recourse was to lie. That decision made him very uncomfortable, but he had no other choice.

He gathered up all of his courage and put on his "witless Gryffindor" face. "Sir? I don't know what you're talking about."

Snape ground his teeth together. He should have expected no less. "Let me spell it out for you then. Do your relatives beat you? Starve you? Lock you up for days without food or water? Do they make sure you have good clothing, take you to the doctor or dentist? Do you get regular eye exams?"

"My relatives don't beat me," Harry replied truthfully. "My uncle whacked me on the bum once for being cheeky but that's all." Though Harry was certain that if Vernon had been able to catch him, he would have done far worse than that. "And I eat the same food they eat and wear the same clothes." Also true. He did eat the same food, though it was scraps, and wore Dudley's hand-me-downs. "And I go to the doctors with Dudley." But unlike Dudley, he remained in the car until the examinations were over.

Severus eyed the boy sharply. His words rang true, but Severus knew he was skirting the issue. From what he had heard Harry speak of in his sleep, he knew that things at Privet Drive were anything but normal. "I see. Do you get along with your cousin then?"

"I guess so," Harry said. He thought of how Dudley used to pound on him and how he never got in trouble for acting like a brat and how Petunia fawned over him. Though last summer, Dudley had pretty much avoided him, since getting the pig's tail surgically removed. Which suited Harry just fine.

"Potter, I want you to tell me the truth," Severus said quietly. "I know it's difficult, but lies will only harm you in the end."

"I'm not lying, sir!" Harry protested. What had Snape overheard? What did he know?

Severus tried again. "I know you have little reason to trust me. But know this, I have never willingly allowed harm to come to my students, and I believe I have misjudged you. I saw only a spoiled bully, which was what your father was to me at school, and assumed that like him you were given everything you ever wanted. I was wrong. I apologize for my mistaken assumption. You are more like Lily than you know."

"I am?" Harry's eyes lit in pleasure and he felt his heart soar.

"Yes. Your mother was the kindest and bravest person I ever knew. She was a powerful witch, an expert in Charms and potions, and I was privileged to be her friend." Severus said sincerely. "The world will never see her like again."

The joy he had felt was suddenly eclipsed by sorrow. "I wish I could remember her, even a little."

"Yes, well, just know that your aunt is nothing like her. In any way."

Harry didn't know what to say. Snape had just apologized to him. He thought he might even be dreaming. Since when did Snape ever admit he was wrong, especially about Harry Potter? Maybe I hit my head really hard and am hallucinating about this. That has to be it. Because the real Snape would never behave this way. Wake up, Harry!

Snape's eyes were on him again, and he squirmed uneasily. He wondered if it were true, that Snape really could read your mind? If so, Harry knew he was dead. He had just lied to the man's face. Sort of.

"Potter, if you don't admit there's a problem, no one can help you—" he began.

Harry grew agitated. Why couldn't Snape just leave it alone? Why was he pressing so hard? It wasn't as if he could do anything about it. Dumbledore had told him that he had to go back to the Dursleys, so there was no point in revealing anything else about his life at Privet Drive. "I'm fine!" he snapped in his most cheeky tone, knowing full well it would make Snape angry. Maybe he did have a death wish after all. "There's nothing wrong with me. I was dreaming, okay? That's all."

The familiar scowl he knew so well came over Snape's face. "Potter, mind your tone when you speak to me! You forget whom you're speaking to."

"I could never do that . . . sir."

Severus glared at him. "Potter, you're just asking for detention, do you know that?"

"You're going to give me detention for having dreams while I'm sick?" he repeated, still with that aggravating tone in his voice.

"Quit lying to me, boy!" Snape growled. "We both know they weren't dreams, but memories. Memories of being tossed outside in a shed, left to freeze in the cold. Memories where your aunt called you freak and said it was your fault your mother died. Remember them now?"

"Ummm . . . not really. Am I supposed to?"

Severus wanted to strangle the obstinate little brat. He couldn't believe Potter was doing this to him. Calm down. Don't lose your composure. You know the truth. And so does he. But he's trying to hide from it. He's frightened, Snape. "You and I both know what's true and what's not. I despise people like your aunt and uncle. Weak, selfish, wicked people who think it acceptable to hurt a child under their care. No one deserves that."

"You're wrong," Harry managed, feeling tears sting his eyes. Abruptly he rose and headed towards the back of the cave. He couldn't take any more of this conversation. It was tearing him apart inside. He wished he were anywhere but here. Snape would never understand. Nobody else ever had. Last time he had revealed what went on at home to a teacher, he had been made to regret it for weeks. He could not go through that again. Hus summer had been hell as it was.

He sat down with his back against the wall, his head in his hands. His head was now throbbing and he felt hot and cold at the same time. He stared at his hands, which looked perfectly normal now. Mum, I wish you were here. I really need you. He says he was your friend. Don't know why he would lie about that. Can I trust him? Should I? I want to, but . . .I can't. Some Gryffindor I am! I'm nothing but a bloody coward! He swiped angrily at his eyes. He shouldn't be crying. Nothing was wrong. Except that he was trapped here with Snape. He had lived eleven years with the Dursleys and he was still alive. He could endure. He had to.

Severus swore as he looked after the fleeing boy. "Well, that went so well," he sneered to himself. "You have a brilliant future as a child psychologist, don't you, Severus?"

**I take it your conversation did not go well?** The Wise One queried.

"He refuses to admit the truth. He was insolent and disrespectful."

**He is frightened and seeks to drive your attention away from him. Give him time, Severus. He's a bright boy. He'll come round eventually.**

Severus was skeptical. "I don't think he will."

**Be patient, Severus. Admitting fear and weakness to someone you admire is always difficult.**

Severus snorted. "Potter? Admire me? That's ridiculous!"

The Wise One smirked. **Yet it is true. I can feel it within me. Poor lost boy. Afraid of being alone and yet afraid to reach out for help.**

Like another boy I once knew, Severus thought. Who had no one to help him except a little red-headed witch. "Perhaps if you spoke to him . . . he might feel more willing to admit that he needs help?"

The Wise One nodded slowly. **Yess. I might jus-s-st do that. I have always been a good listener.**

The great snake glided towards Harry, her scales making a soft shushing sound against the rock. The boy looked up to see the ruffed serpent circling about in front of him, gazing at him curiously. "Hi," he said softly in Parseltongue. "Sorry, did I wake you?"

The Wise One shook her head gently. **No. I am a light sleeper. You seem troubled, littling. Perhaps I may help?**

Harry sighed. "I wish. But . . . there's nothing you can do. Not unless you can turn back time and stop me from running out of the castle in the middle of a blizzard?"

**Alass, that is not within my power. But perhaps you might tell me why you ran from your home?**

"Promise you won't laugh? Or think I'm crazy?"

**I would never believe you are insane, Harry. What happened? Did you perhaps quarrel with your teacher?**

"No. He had nothing to do with this. I . . . heard a voice. A very creepy and scary voice. And the only one who could hear it was me." Harry began. Then he halted. "Wait! I . . . I think . . . it sounded like . . . you. Well, not exactly, your voice sounds softer, more reasonable . . .this one just sounded angry and . . . very hungry . . .It kept talking about eating people's livers and stuff . . .Gross, really."

**Harry, when you say the voice sounded like me . . .did you mean because it was speaking in Parseltongue?**

Harry thought about it, recalling the sudden raspy tone and the way the voice had hissedon the sibilants. "Yes! That must be it! But why would I be hearing a snake inside Hogwarts? I don't think anybody has a snake for a familiar, much less an invisible one."

**Invisible? What do you mean?**

"Well, I've never seen it anywhere. Just heard it. Mostly when I'm alone, walking through the corridors. Last night . . . I heard it in the middle of the night while I was using the bathroom . . . It really freaked me out. So I ran."

The Wise One looked thoughtful. **I have been here a long time, young one. But one thing I do recall from when I first arrived here was that one of my cousins, a black and green basilisk, lived in the castle with his master, Salazar Slytherin. **

"Could this be the same one?"

**It very well could be. Basilisks can live for many centuries if they hibernate. Like most reptiles, they are long lived. And regrettably, they do enjoy the taste of human flesh. They can be quite territorial as well.**

"Have you ever met him?"

**No, for he never comes out of the castle and I have never ventured inside.**

"But Salazar Slytherin has been dead for so long . . .how come his familiar is still around?"

**It was not yet his time. A basilisk is very loyal. If he found another Parselmouth . . . he might have been persuaded to stay . . .**

"That is exactly what happened," Severus interjected.

"You were eavesdropping?" scowled Harry.

"I could hardly help overhearing your conversation. The acoustics in this cave are very good," Severus said, somewhat defensively. "You are the only one who has actually heard the basilisk in years. It slept while I was a student at school . . . until now."

Harry stared up at him. "You know about the basilisk?"

"I am a Hogwarts professor. I know most of what goes on in the castle, Potter."

The Wise One inclined her head. **S-S-Severus-s, will you tell uss more about the basilisk? Its behavior seems . . . erratic and . . . odd. Basilisks . . . are not hunterss, like some s-s-snakes. They prefer to ambush their prey and freeze them with their gaze, then kill them with their venom. Much easier that way. Although . . . I prefer to hunt . . . I enjoy the taste of deer and elk . . . very tender. . .I disgres-s-s . . .Go on, S-S-Severus, explain why the basilisk still remains in the castle . . ."

Severus cleared his throat and then paused, gathering his thoughts. He had long questioned the wisdom of Dumbledore and the previous Headmasters about allowing the basilisk to remain in the castle for so long when it was an obvious danger to the students if it ever broke free of the Chamber of Secrets, as had so obviously happened now. Severus had long suspected that the monster behind all the petrification was the basilisk, but had never been able to catch it in the act, or find it so he could 'speak it.

"The basilisk was, as the Wise One said, Salazar Slytherin's familiar. Back in those days, every witch or wizard had a familiar, and the familiar was usually attuned to his or her master and served as his eyes and ears in places and also his guardian. Salazar was very powerful and so was his familiar. Some people refer to the basilisk as the King of Serpents, though I am sure the Wise One would disagree. No disrespect intended, Revered One."

The Wise One gave a soft hiss. **None taken, Severus my friend. Basilisks have always been arrogant and put on airs, much like my dragon cousins. We are related . . .by a distant ancestor, much the way a dog and a wolf are related. But a basilisk is coldblooded and cannot survive extreme temperatures. Basilisks are also fond of manflesh and have been known to go mad and kill anything which approaches their lair. Though I have no way of knowing unless I see for myself, Harry's description suggest that the basilisk in the castle may have succumbed to loneliness and senility. A most deadly combination. Continue, please, profess-ssor.**

Severus returned to his narrative. "I am a descendant of Salazar Slytherin, and have family journals which he kept chronicling his life and important events. One of the things I noticed is that when he lived in the castle, he taught Defense and Potions and also trained those who possessed the gift of Parseltongue. He was a very erudite man, and preferred books over people, though he always treated his apprentices well. His basilisk was called Icefyre and it respected and adored him. He invented a sort of head covering that would enable the basilisk to accompany him about the castle and not worry about unintentionally petrifying a student. Salazar was well-respected in the pureblood magical community and when he broke with the rest of the Founders it was not only, as rumor and popular belief would have it, because Gryffindor and Hufflepuff insisted on letting Muggleborns into the school.

"You see, Salazar felt it unwise to allow most Muggleborns into Hogwarts for two reasons. One, half of those with magic came to hate and fear their brethren, regarding them as "evil sorcerers" and "tainted with black magic", they were convinced they were cursed and nothing would change their superstitious minds. They especially hated Salazar, who had a snake familiar and could speak Parseltongue. Two, getting Muggleborns to join them was extremely risky, as this was the time of witch hunts and burnings. Several wizards and witches lost their lives trying to bring an apprentice to Hogwarts, and some led the witch hunters directly to the sanctuary. This was before Hogwarts had such strong wards about it. The wards came about as a direct result of such occurrences. As a matter of fact, Slytherin created them.

But not before several wizards and witches were slain by witch hunters or betrayed by some apprentices who had been brainwashed and agreed to become spies for the Inquisition. It was for that reason that Salazar said no more Muggleborns should be allowed into the school. He felt it was the only way to protect those wizards and witches who remained at the school. It was not, as some would have it, because of some prejudice towards Muggles and Muggleborns. He suggested that scouts go out and search for those Muggleborns who displayed early signs of magic and that they be removed from their homes and taken to a different location to be taught. If the parents were amenable to letting their child study with a "learned scholar" and were paid a fee for it, then the child could come with their blessing. But if the parents were very religious or otherwise abusive or intolerant, the child should be kidnapped and their magical powers revealed some time later.

His colleagues did not like that solution and kept accepting Muggleborns without precautions. Salazar hated the waste of life that he was sure to occur and so he broke with his fellow Founders. But before he could totally pack up and leave, he went to help out a wizarding family who was being attacked by some members of the Inquisition. It was a trap, and Salazar was captured and tortured by the witch hunters. He died unbroken though, and took many of the witch hunters with him."

"That's terrible!" Harry said. "What happened to the basilisk? And how come McGonagall doesn't know that story?"

Severus' mouth twitched. "Potter, she is Head of Gryffindor House and we are her rivals. The version of the Chamber of Secrets she told has been passed down since the time of the Founders, and no one knows who first started the rumor and altered the facts of the story. After You-Know-Who came to power, no one cared to hear the true story of Salazar, they preferred to tar all Slytherins with the same filthy brush. We became the dark House, sly and cunning, and the basilisk became a creature of legends and nightmares.

"What happened to the basilisk, you ask? I believe that Salazar sent it to sleep in the Chamber, so it would not harm anyone accidentally while he was out of the castle. The basilisk could be unpredictable, and it was still a dangerous creature, despite being Salazar's familiar. I think that after Salazar died, the snake went mad. It could not deal with the loss of its master. It could not speak with any save Parselmouths and I think by the time of Salazar's demise, all of them, there never were many to begin with, were gone from the school. So it was alone with its grief and anger. It must have felt Salazar's death, he said he was bonded to it."

The Wise One shook her head. **How dreadful, to feel his master's pain and yet be unable to rescue him or even seek revenge upon those who had slain him. That would drive any familiar insane.**

"That's really awful," Harry murmured, starting to feel bad for the basilisk. "But what about the legend that Salazar set a curse upon the school and that only the Heir of Slytherin could open the chamber and release a terrible monster that would cleanse all the Muggleborns from Hogwarts?"

Severus looked at Harry sharply. "Think about what you just said, Mr. Potter. Does that doctrine sound familiar to you? It should. But Salazar Slytherin did not say it. Though someone else who considered himself the Heir of Slytherin did. Can you guess who it was?"

Harry thought for several moments. He knew it sounded familiar, but his head was starting to hurt pretty badly and he felt all achy and was at turns hot and very cold. His head felt muzzy and he struggled to give the professor the correct answer. He wasn't a dunce, he knew who it was that had probably invented that saying. It was just . . . he couldn't recall it right now. He rubbed his forehead with the heel of his hand, massaging the scar he had received as a baby from . . . "Voldemort!"

"Potter!" Snape rebuked sharply. "Do not speak his name! Names are power, to say his name is to alert him to your presence. Is that what you want?"

Harry shook his head. "No, but . . .you asked me to guess . . ."

"From now on, refer to him as You-Know-Who or He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named."

"Fine!" Harry said snippily, he was starting to feel really sick and not in the mood for Snape's insistence upon propriety, or whatever one wanted to call it.

"Potter," growled his professor warningly.

Harry mumbled a "Sorry", though he really wasn't. "Tell me more about the basilisk? Please?" he added, remembering his manners.

"Very well. Since you've asked me politely," acquiesced the Potions Master. "Mind you, I have only supposition to go on, since You-Know-Who never left a record of his school days or actions that I know of. When he attended school, he was known as Tom Riddle, and he became the only Parselmouth to set foot in the castle since Salazar, at least according to the student records. Riddle was exceedingly ambitious and clever, and he enjoyed roaming the castle, discovering hidden passages and rooms no one ever knew about. He also enjoyed finding out secrets about other students and using them to make them do what he wished. In short, he was a manipulative little dungbeetle. I believe that Riddle discovered the entrance to the Chamber of Secrets one day, and learned how to open it somehow. Salazar probably had keyed the Chamber to something only a Parselmouth would be able to unravel—a word or charm or something. Because Riddle was a Parselmouth, he would have been able to communicate with the basilisk. He was a very persuasive young man, from what we know, he was handsome and charming as a lad, and became Prefect and Head Boy eventually."

**By then, Icefyre must have been insane with boredom and loneliness,** said the Wise One. **Basilisks are more social than most serpents, and he must have been delighted to find another Speaker to talk with at last. Imagine, being locked up in a room for centuries, alone with grief, hallowed by loss and regret, nursing a profound hatred of the humans who had stolen his wizard away.**

"It would have been easy for Tom to persuade Icefyre that he was a friend, like Salazar. As you say, Wise One, the basilisk would have been ripe for Riddle's manipulation. I am sure he was the reason why the basilisk remained in the castle rather than fleeing once the Chamber was opened. Icefyre would have wanted to remain near the only wizard who would understand him and help him get revenge upon those who had killed his master."

"That's why you think the basilisk is petrifying people?" Harry clarified. "Because it thinks they killed Salazar?"

"In part. From what you've heard, I would also imagine it is hungry."

**I would say so. It takes a great deal of food to sate a hungry basilisk. And as I said, they are not choosy about what they eat, so long as they can swallow it whole.**

Harry looked faintly ill, though he had known before that was how snakes ate, by swallowing their food whole. Their fangs were not used for chewing but for defense.

"Then you think it's hungry again?"

"The chamber hasn't been opened in fifty years, Potter. While a snake can go for long periods without food, even magical snakes need to eat." Snape pointed out.

**Starvation is a great motivator for Icefyre to seek out prey rather than the usual method,** remarked the ruffed serpent. **Basilisks are loyal, strong, and have a great deal of protective magic in their scales, and their poison is very deadly. But he's not exceptionally bright and is probably more than a little mad by now. Still, you shouldn't be so harsh upon him. Every creature follows its stomach and it does not murder two-legs, but does what it must to survive.**

Harry nodded. "I understand. But it's still rather . . .disgusting. His diet, I mean. But professor, if you and I are the only Parselmouths in the castle, then who opened the Chamber of Secrets this time?"

"I do not know, Potter. But I shall find out." Snape said grimly. "When was the first time you heard the basilisk?"

"My head hurts," Harry mumbled.

"Why? From using your brain?" Severus asked sarcastically. "The more you dither, the more chance your classmates have of dying from the basilisk's gaze!"

The Wise One sighed. **S-Severus, you might be a little more patient. He hass just been through a rather trying injury. Harry, try and remember. It is important.**

"Okay." Harry would try, because he admired and respected the great serpent. He glared at his teacher. "It isn't my fault the basilisk kills people."

"I never said it was." Severus snapped, nettled. "But you remember plenty of other things that you shouldn't. Such as how to get to the Sorcerer's Stone. You can remember this, Potter." He tried to sound encouraging instead of exasperated. The boy picked a fine time for a memory lapse!

Harry concentrated through his muzzy head. When had the first time been? Before Mrs. Norris was petrified. He recalled the first Quidditch practice. "It was way back at the beginning of school. We had Quidditch practice, only the Slytherins called the pitch first to train Malfoy, and Malfoy called Hermione a Mudblood, and Ron tried to hex him, but his wand backfired and he ended up spitting up slugs . . ."

"Malfoy called Granger a Mudblood?" Snape hissed, and his eyes were black as coal and blazing just as brightly. Harry couldn't know it, but Severus detested that particular word and anyone who used it, Slytherin or otherwise. Yet another thing he would discuss with Lucius' son once he returned to the castle.

Harry nodded, wondering why Snape looked so furious. Surely he had heard the term before? "Anyway, Ron got detention with Filch and I ended up helping Lockhart with his fan mail. That was when I heard it for the first time . . .when I was on my way back to Gryffindor Tower. It made me freeze up and then I started to run up the stairs."

"Can you recall a date?"

"Umm . . .maybe the first weekend of term. Don't remember what date it was, sir."

Severus thought hard. "I believe it was the fourth or fifth of September. When was the next time you heard it?"

Harry thought hard. "Just before Mrs. Norris was found. That was right after the Deathday party for the ghosts on Halloween. The voice was hissing about killing and crunching bones and I followed it and found the writing on the wall and Mrs. Norris. Filch thought I did it, but it wasn't me."

"Filch was overwrought. His familiar was injured," said Severus. "None of us thought you petrified her, Potter. You're not skilled enough to cast such advanced magic. Why did you not tell anyone about the voice you heard?"

"Why? Because I thought I was going mad. Ron and Hermione couldn't hear it, I was the only one. I didn't know it was speaking in Parseltongue. How could I prove there even was a voice if I was the only one who could hear it?"

**He does have a point. And you know, professor, that Parselmouths have a reputation as being rather . . .dark.** Snape made a wordless hiss of acknowledgment. **Why did you never hear it?**

"I suppose because I was never around when it was moving around and talking to itself," said Snape. "I am still trying to figure out how it is getting about the castle without being seen by everyone."

"Maybe there's a secret passage?" Harry suggested.

"Perhaps. Basilisks cannot turn invisible."

"They can't?" Harry looked at the Wise One for confirmation.

The snake laughed, a strange sound, like bubbling oatmeal. **Aesclepius's staff, no! They do not have enough magic for it.**

"Do you?" asked Harry curiously.

**I don't know. I have never tried to do it. But if any serpent had the ability, it would be me and mine. Our immortal blood is a conduit to the magic of the earth and sky. We are the reason you wizards can speak to us.**

"I have never heard that before," Severus said, intrigued. "How did that come about?"

**I and my sisters were created first by our parents. One of them decided she wished humans to be able to understand us, and she bit one of them, a young wizard, and through the bite transmitted the Parseltongue. This was before we were regarded as instruments of evil. The wizard considered it a great honor to be given the gift of Parseltongue. A few more of my family tried it and soon we had several witches and wizard who could speak with us. They intermarried and kept the gift in the bloodline, though it was not directly inherited. Sometimes it skipped children.**

Harry was fascinated and wondered what ancestor he had had to give him the ability. It had to be someone on his dad's side, right? Harry suddenly felt the cave go in and out of focus. The Wise One wasspeaking but he couldn't make sense of her words. It was all a roar of noise and his vision was blurry. "Professor, I . . . really don't feel good." He groaned. Then the world spun away.

The Wise One hissed and caught the boy before his head smashed into the stone floor. **Severus, he's very hot. I fear he is terribly ill.**

Snape reached over and felt Potter's forehead with the back of his hand. "Bloody hell! He's like a furnace. We need to bring down that fever fast. But I don't have my potions or my lab here to make more."

There was a note of desperation in the professor's voice. He had just brought the boy back from the brink of death once, he did not know if Harry could survive a second stress-filled illness, his magical core was badly weakened and so was his body. Once more, the life of the child he was sworn to preserve hung in the balance, and only he could save it. But how? "He needs the Hospital Wing and Madam Pomfrey. I barely qualify as any kind of Healer and without my potions lab I'm useless." He murmured in Parseltongue, fatigue and despair slamming into him with the force of the Hogwarts Express.

The Wise One swiveled her head around, her green eyes narrowed, still holding Harry snugly in her coils. She had dampened down her naturally high body temperature to a somewhat cooler range, more like that of her distant basilisk cousins. **For s-s-shame, S-Severus-s-s! Giving up before you have barely begun! Where is your courage and s-s-stubbornness-ss now? The child needs you, now more than ever! Use your S-s-slytherin ingenuity and quit whining. Where there's a will, there's a way.**

He stared at her. The last thing he had expected was to get a scolding from her, and in Parseltongue her censure bit sharply, like a lash flicked over his bare back. His first instinct was to retort that he was not a miracle worker, Slytherin or otherwise. But he held his tongue. For he knew better. Give in to despair and doubt and you had done half the enemy's work for him. And he was not yet ready to let Harry go without a fight. "What way?" he demanded, Parseltongue slipping hard and cold off his tongue.

The Wise One's eyes gleamed gem bright in the light from his wand. **Here before you s-s-stands the premiere teacher of Healing methods upon this-ss island. And for many of those centuries, I Healed without magic, only knowing herbs and anatomy. 'Twas I who taught the God of Medicine his trade. What is the first rule of a high fever?**

"To bring it down as quickly as possible," Severus replied immediately.

**Yes-s-s. There is the s-s-stream. It is cool running water from the high peaks.** The great serpent slithered over to the stream, and Snape quickly removed Harry's clothing. The Wise One made a soft purring sound at the boy. **Ssshhhh, littling. This sshall be a sshock, but 'twill help keep the blood from boiling in your veins.** The ruffed serpent glided into the stream, immersing her patient in the cool water all at once, careful to keep his head above water, resting upon her massive scales.

Harry cried out in protest, his eyes flying open. "Ahhh! It's cold! Help!" He tried to struggle, but the Wise One held him fast, crooning reassurance to him until he quit trying to get away. After the initial shock, Harry went numb, and started to adjust to the water, which was the same temperature as an ice bath, and felt extremely good upon his feverish skin.

The freshet was not particularly deep, and most of the serpent was out of the water, though she made certain her coils containing Harry remained submerged. She turned to the Potions Master. **Look up above me, to the right. There you sshall find ssome niches-s. Inside them are bowls made from my s-shed scales. Are you familiar with bark from a willow tree, S-severus?**

"Yes. I use that in my Fever Reducer Elixir." He moved to where she had indicated, finding a recessed niche some six feet up along the wall. He reached up and took down a shallow bowl made from the Wise One's golden scales stuck together with some sort of adhesive. Inside were dried strips of shredded willow bark. "This?"

**Correct. Now, use your magic to conjure a cauldron to s-s-steep the willow bark in. It must s-s-steep for at least an hour or more for full efficacy.** she instructed.

He obeyed, trusting her expertise. After the bark was bubbling away, steeping in the boiling water, which he had brought to a boil by a simple spell any second year could master, he also discovered a cup made of smaller shed scales-**For infusions**-plus an earthenware jar full of honey, a spoon made of horn, and various other containers of herbs, dried and mashed. As he lifted each one off the shelf, she told him what it was. Some he recognized, others he didn't.

At her direction, he added a handful of cherry bark to the cauldron-**to sstave off lung infections and coughs**-hyssop extract, which cleansed and purified the body and respiratory tract, when Snape added a pinch of it to the cauldron, a soothing essence was released, calming his nerves and causing him to feel less tense. He added thyme and some licorice root as well. Then he stirred all together and let it steep.

Meanwhile, the Wise One kept Harry submerged in the stream for awhile longer, then removed him and dried him by raising her body temperature to the equivalent of a dog or cat's, which warmed Harry nicely and caused him to stop shivering.

Severus kept an eye on the potion and when it was done, decanted it into the small cup. He then added three spoonfuls of honey at the Wise One's insistence. "How did you make these cups and bowls?"

**From my shed scales and a bit of my saliva, which can sometimes act as a binder, like glue.**

"I see. How very clever."

The next hurdle was getting Harry to take the tonic. At first he refused to swallow it, coughing and spitting it out. Snape knew the potion did not taste very good, but Harry needed to drink it. He urged the boy over and over to drink , but Harry stubbornly refused it. Snape was growing more and more exasperated and only the Wise One's presence kept him from flying off the handle.

Finally, he decided to be sneaky and gave Harry sips of water and then a spoonful of the potion, alternating it until Harry had swallowed all of the potion. But it didn't work as fast as Severus was used to, or perhaps Harry was more ill than he had thought, because even after the potion was inside him, the boy still had feverish nightmares, where he pleaded with his aunt and uncle to let him out of his cupboard.

"Please, Uncle Vernon . . . I'll never tell anybody about anything at home again. I didn't want to lie when Miss Young asked me where I got the bruise and told her Dudley pushed me. Then she asked me about why I had no clothes that fit me and why my glasses were all bent and I just told her the truth . . . I'm sorry she called you to school and talked to you . . . I didn't know she was going to do that. . . Please, Aunt Petunia, if I promise to never tell anybody again will you let me out? It's been three days . . .I'm so hungry and thirsty and the bucket's full . . .I've learned my lesson . . ."

Listening to Harry's voice, broken and frightened, speaking of things that no child should have to endure, made Severus even more determined to get the boy away from Privet Drive. Potter's relatives were nearly as bad as some Death Eaters he'd known and for far less reasons. But at least now he knew why Harry had never told a soul about what he had lived through at Privet Drive.

"Shhh. It's all right," he said, trying to speak soothingly, using his handkerchief to sponge down Harry's face and body. "You shall not go back there again. You have my word and whatever else I have been, I am a man of my word. I shall protect you till my last breath, even from your own family."

Harry was shivering and moaning. "Never tell . . .never ever . . ." Then his voice changed, becoming more like his usual one. "Professor, why do I have to go back there . . . I like it here at school . . . why can't I stay here over the summer? My relatives don't understand me or magic . . . I could work and help you out around the castle . . .? Oh, I see. Never mind then."

Snape could not believe his ears. Potter had gone to Dumbledore and asked to stay at school over break and Albus had not even gone to investigate the reasons why Potter might want to stay, besides the lure of magic. How dense could the old man be? If one listened closely, one could hear the fear and desperation in the boy's tone. It reminded him sharply of himself, hurting and afraid, but not daring to let anyone know how badly Tobias beat him. He reached out and gently carded the agitated boy's hair, recalling his mother doing something similar when he was this age. "There now. You'll be all right. No one will hurt you here. Just relax and sleep, Potter."

Harry was lost in a mire of frightening dreams, dreams where he watched as Uncle Vernon burned all his school things and snapped his wand and broke Hedwig's wings with a cane. He wept and tried to stop the obese man, but he was helpless against Vernon's hatred, without his wand he couldn't defend himself. He threw himself at Vernon, only to have Vernon transform into a shadowy figure who shot a green bolt of light at him. A woman's voice screamed his name and then he was falling . . . falling down . . .to be caught in a pair of strong arms that held him close. He heard a familiar voice say, "You're safe, Potter. No one will hurt you. Now go to sleep."

Harry sighed and allowed himself to tumble into the soothing cool dark. He could sleep now, for Snape was here to protect him. Now at last he could rest.

Severus noted that Harry's breathing became easier after he had spoken to him and his fever had seemed to go down. It had not broken yet, but the tide was starting to turn. Harry was wrapped in Snape's cloak, resting in the coils of the Wise One, she had made of her length a kind of huge basket, and Harry was curled up at the center of it, slumbering easily now.

Severus made tea from chamomile and mint leaves he found among the Wise One's stores, it eased the hunger pangs he had begun to feel. He hoped that Dumbledore had seen his Patronus and was trying to figure out a way to get to his stranded student and professor. It was then that Snape recalled only Parselmouths could find the cave. That was a problem.

But he would worry about that later. His first priority was making Harry well. The Potions Master kept vigil over the skinny boy the rest of the night, keeping him cool and giving him more water and sips of potion. Finally, as a cloudy gray dawn lit the sky, Harry's fever broke and he fell into a healing sleep.

**Well done, S-S-Severus! Did I not tell you that you would ssucceed? You ought to trust yourself more often.**

"I couldn't have done it without your help," admitted the proud wizard.

**That is why I am here. To teach Parselmouths the forgotten lore of healing and wisdom. You are tired, why don't you take a nap?**

By then Severus was more than ready to sleep. His back and shoulders ached from bending over Harry and the cauldron for hours. So he took the snake up on her offer and fell asleep next to the Wise One.

The snake allowed her two apprentices to sleep a bit longer before quietly removing Harry from her coils and placing him gently next to his mentor. Then she used her power and her strength to break down the wall of snow blocking the cave, making herself glow with the brightness of a thousand suns. She melted some of the snow and then used her nose like a battering ram to smash through the snow packed entrance. Once she had enlarged a hole, she slipped out into the forest to hunt, marveling at how pretty the forest looked beneath the moon, which made the snow sparkle like diamonds.

A quick hunt for a deer and then she would return to the cave to look after her new friends.

One deer and a wild boar later, the ruffed serpent was sated, she would not need to hunt again for at least three weeks. When she arrived back at the cave, a weak ray of sunshine had illuminated part of the cave, streaming through the rather large hole she had punched through the snow that had covered the entrance. The Wise One slipped into her home, emitting a soft purring noise of welcome. Ruffed serpents had a greater range of vocal sounds than any other kind of serpent, they could hum, squeak, hiss, purr, growl, and roar, depending upon their mood.

She found Snape still asleep, but Harry was stirring. "Unnghhh . . ." Slowly, Harry opened his eyes, wincing at the sudden bright light coming into the cave from the entrance. "What? Where?" Then he found his glasses, which were resting upon his chest, they had been strung around his neck upon a black cord. He quickly shoved them on and everything came into focus. "Hey," he greeted the Wise One, who had slithered over to him and was peering at him intently. "Where's that light coming from? Oh . . ." He trailed off as he discovered the hole in the center of the packed snow. Well, at least I won't be shoveling snow in order to get out.

**How are you feeling, littling? Has your fever abated?**

Harry blinked, he still felt tired and achy and the Wise One's vocabulary was sometimes hard for him to grasp. "Uh . . .Yeah, I think so. I don't feel like I'm boiling in a cauldron anymore."

The Wise One lowered her head and flicked her tongue out at him. She could smell that Harry was on the mend, he wasn't out of the woods yet, but he was not courting death any longer. **Yes-s-s, you are sslightly feverish, but you are recovering. That was due in part to my herbal remedy and also your teacher. He is a true Parselmouth. Quick to learn and recall things, if a bit more impatient than I would like. S-s-still, he is young yet, he hass time to improve his manners with patients.**

"You think Snape's young?" Harry gaped at her. "He's . . .like . . .my parents' age. Or what they would have been if they hadn't been killed."

**When you have seen as many centuries come and go as I have, Harry, anything under two hundred sseasons is young.** chuckled the Wise One.

Harry grinned, smiling for the first time since he had been stranded in the cave. "I can see why that's be true. Then I must be a little baby to you."

The Wise One nodded. **Indeed. But you are a very smart and magical serpentling. One that I am proud to call my apprentice.**

"Really?" Harry hissed in surprise.

**Yess. You and S-s-severus are the only Parselmouths I have had the privilege of instructing in a long time.**

Harry looked over at the slumbering professor, who was snoring slightly, and thought how yet again he owed the dark-haired wizard his life. Twice in two days Snape had saved him. Could you owe one wizard two lifedebts? Or was it only one per wizard? You owe him more than that, his conscience chided. You owe him the truth about the Dursleys. He trembled involuntarily, that long ago punishment still had the power to make him sweat and shiver. Never ever tell. Such had been his mantra. Only now . . .he turned back to the Wise One. "Did I . . .talk anymore in my sleep?"

The golden snake hissed an affirmative. **But you spoke of nothing that S-S-Severus or I did not suspect before.**

Harry swallowed hard and said in a tiny voice, "Did I . . .say anything about . . .my aunt and uncle? Or Dudley?"

Again the Wise One confirmed his suspicions.

"Was it . . .bad?"

**It was not pleasant to listen to. It made him angry, and me as well. Your relatives deserve to become basilisk food.**

Harry managed a short laugh. "I always thought Dudley would make a good ham. And Uncle Vernon is a good stuffed turkey. So . . .he knows everything?"

The Wise One tilted her head. **This troubles you, that he knows the truth. Why? I do not understand.**

"It's just . . . I feel ashamed . . . everyone in the wizarding world thinks I'm some kind of . . . hero . . . if they ever knew that I was just a messed up kid . . . I'm not supposed to talk about it . . . and here I am blabbing my head off to Snape, of all people . . . We've never really got along and yet he's saved my life several times now . . . I don't even know why . . .always thought he hated me or something . . . till he apologized to me last night . . .threw me for a loop, I can tell you." Harry said in Parseltongue.

**Perhaps the best solution is for you to ask him yourself. He seems like a complex man, much like his ancestor, but his heart is good, child. A snake is often quick to s-s-strike, but will fight to the death to defend his own.**

"But . . . I'm not his own. I'm not a Slytherin, not his blood, I'm not anything to him. Except perhaps an annoyance."

**Sss-aaa . . .blood is not all that matters . . .this-s-s I have sseen, time and again. I sssee it now, between you and your teacher. Being born to a person does not always guarantee a happy relationship . . .S-S-Severus would know that better than any . . .I'd wager . . .**

"What do you mean?"

**Like you, I ssensse a deep pain within him, an old pain, if you want sspecifics, you must ask him yourself, for I have told you all I know.** The Wise One said serenely. **However, ssometimess the best judge of a person's intentions is his actions, not words. Though when ssspeaking Parseltongue, you cannot lie.**

"How come?"

**What need does a s-s-snake have to deceive another?** she asked wryly.

"Oh. Right. How can you tell if someone lies in Parseltongue?"

**Easily. Their words tingle upon your tongue, like a bitter herb. The truth is warm, like a hot drink. That is why it is so hard to deceive a Parselmouth.**

Now Harry understood better why no student ever managed to lie to Snape's face. Or even tried to. It was like having a built in lie detector. He mulled over what the Wise One said about the professor and trusting him. He thought back to all the times the snarky man had saved him, all last year, and now this year as well. And though he had been abrasive and rude to Harry, criticizing him all the time, and taking points and giving detention, he had never been physically abusive to him. Even with the flying car incident, he had not expelled them, or lifted a hand to them, and Harry suspected that he had entertained thoughts of walloping them till they howled. What Ron and he had done had been extremely stupid, they had also been extremely lucky—the luck of idiots—as Snape had said, to not have exposed the wizarding world in an even more spectacular manner.

Harry hadn't thought that at the time, but looking back on it . . .he could see why Snape had been so furious. Harry had to admit that they had put everyone at school in danger, and that need not have occurred if they had simply taken a moment or two and thought things through.

But the most telling things about Snape's true nature had been the most recent events, both in the forest and in the cave. Both times Snape had done his utter best to protect and help Harry, and he had not been prompted to do so by anyone other than himself. He could have left Harry to die of exposure, he could have used some kind of mind magic to make Harry tell him about the Dursleys, could have mocked him for being such a wimp. He had done none of those things. His actions had been that of a concerned educator or mentor. He had also made Harry feel oddly safe, and he had never felt that with any adult, not even Dumbledore. He liked the Headmaster, but ever since he had asked to stay at the school and been refused by the old wizard, and then told it was necessary to stay with his relatives, Harry had lost his trust in Dumbledore. Clearly the wizard had his own agenda, and Harry did not need to be a pawn, even a well regarded one. Snarky as Snape had been, at least he had been honest.

I have never willingly allowed harm to come to my students, and I believe I have misjudged you. I saw only a spoiled bully, which was what your father was to me at school, and assumed that like him you were given everything you ever wanted. I was wrong. I apologize for my mistaken assumption. Snape's words to him the other day echoed in his head. When he had heard them, he had felt relief that Snape had not disliked him for no reason and also that the professor had realized his dislike was wrong. He did not enjoy having Snape as an enemy. There had been a small part of him that protested Snape's calling his father a spoiled bully, but it had quickly died. He knew next to nothing about either of his parents, save how they had died, that one was Muggleborn and the other pureblood, what they looked like, that they had attended Hogwarts, and that was it. He had no memory of them, did not know their personalities, save that James like Quidditch and Lily liked Charms and potions.

But Snape had known both of them, and given James' background, he could have very well been a spoiled brat and arrogant, given everything he'd ever wanted, just like Dudley and Malfoy. Granted, none of the other professors had ever mentioned that, but Harry knew all too well how teachers fell for Dudley's innocent act whenever he'd knocked down Harry—"I'm so sorry, Mr. Price, I tripped and knocked him down, it was an accident. Here, let me help him up." Then he'd elbowed Harry in the ribs under the guise of "helping" him and growled, "Say anything else, freak, and you're dead meat." They had been all too willing to believe the popular petted Dudley over scrawny, shy Harry, dressed in baggy clothes. If that's the way it had been between Snape and James, Harry couldn't blame Snape for resenting his dad. Harry had often resented his cousin and wished that Dudley could switch places with him for a day and live his life. That was why he had been so very happy to hear Snape say he was more like Lily than he knew, because all he'd ever wanted was to be ordinary, not some famous boy hero that everyone expected to do great things.

Harry found that he preferred Snape's honesty over Dumbledore's sugary-sweet "you've done a wonderful job, my boy, but you still have to endure your nasty relatives" attitude. He remembered feeling extremely let down at the Headmaster's reaction to his request, his second attempt after the disastrous first one to tell an adult about how awful he'd been treated. And it had been brushed under the rug, so to speak. It was so unfair! He had longed to scream or throw something, call Dumbledore a sodding arse, or burst into tears. But he had hidden his pain away, like always, because it never did any good to cry, or to rage about nobody caring what went on over the summer. Such had been his lot since he was a toddler and nothing would change it, not even his entry into this wonderful magical world. There were times that Harry looked upon his time at Hogwarts as a kind of dream state, and his return to Privet Drive as his wake-up call to reality.

Except now he was starting to feel something else besides resignation of his lot. Now, for the first time ever, he began to hope that somehow things would change for the better. Snape had protected him from Quirrell and Voldemort, had saved him from a blizzard. Did he dare hope that Snape might also save him from the Dursleys? Or should he go back to simply pretending everything was okay at home, as usual?

Feeling vastly confused, Harry rose and managed to walk slowly to the back of the cave, where the makeshift toilet was. His feet were still tender. His bladder was about to burst, his stomach felt hollow, and he was parched to the bone. He methodically went about attending to his needs, using the commode, then drinking the pure spring water, scooping it out with a small cup he found near the water's edge. A cup that appeared to have been made of snakeskin. The water felt heavenly on his tongue, and it eased his dry throat immensely. The water tasted better than pumpkin juice right then. He drank one cup and then another, and the water managed to quiet his hunger pangs a little.

He made his way back to where Severus slept, now pillowed atop the ruffed golden serpent's bulk, and stood for long moments staring down at his professor. Can I trust him? Dare I trust him? Snape's breathing was labored, broken by snores and coughing. He sounds sick, really sick. Concerned, Harry reached out a hand and felt Severus' forehead. But he couldn't tell if Snape had a fever, or if he was warm due to lying atop the Wise One. Asleep, Snape looked oddly peaceful and vulnerable, no sneer distorted his mouth, or glare hardened his features. He looked very . . . human. Was what the Wise One said true? Did you go through the same thing as me growing up? How did you stand it? How did you manage to make the pain go away, make yourself feel like you were worth something? Maybe you didn't. Maybe that's why you're so sharp-tempered and angry all the time. Because you're still hurting. When does it stop? When will I ever be free of it?

All of those questions and a dozen more swirled in his head, but with Snape asleep he could ask none of them. So he decided to go back to sleep, he still felt foggy and tired. He curled up in the hollow of the Wise One's tail and slept again, never waking, even when the snake lifted him and laid him down next to Severus.

The next time Harry woke it was to the sound of Snape coughing harshly. He sat up and saw his professor hunched over, coughing into a handkerchief violently. "Sir, you don't sound very good," he blurted out before he could think better of it.

Snape eyed him irritably once the spasm had ended. "How very astute of you to notice," he drawled, wiping his mouth. "My cold seems to have worsened. Probably due to the influx of cold air coming in through that hole there." He indicated the cave entrance.

"The Wise One did that," Harry said.

"Obviously. It's a mixed blessing." He coughed again.

"Maybe you ought to take something for your cold," Harry suggested.

"I shall do so once we are back at the castle. Now that she has opened up the entrance, we can leave as soon as you feel up to it." Severus told him, reaching out to feel Harry's forehead, his palm resting lightly upon the lightning bolt scar. "No fever, thank Merlin. How are you feeling otherwise?"

"A little tired and achy, but much better than yesterday. Thank you, sir, for helping me."

"No thanks are needed, Potter," said the professor gruffly. "I would have done the same for any student in need of medical care. Or tried to."

Harry bit his lip. Then he drew in a breath and asked in Parseltongue, "Did I . . . talk in my sleep again?"

"You did." Snape replied solemnly in the same language. Obsidian eyes met green and a shared understanding passed between them.

"So . . .you know about what happened." Harry stated.

"Yes. Your nightmares were very explicit."

Harry gulped. "I never wanted anyone to know."

"I had gathered that by your refusal to speak to me before. What caused you to change your mind?"

"You saved my life again. And you seem . . . to know what it's like. The Wise One told me that . . .she could feel an old pain inside you . . ." he trailed off when he saw a scowl emerge on Snape's face.

"Bloody intuitive reptile!" Severus growled under his breath. He sneezed. Then he nodded once. "She is right. I . . . did not have a very good childhood. My father wished for me to be normal, to give up the magic that was my birthright and never attend Hogwarts. When I refused, he became violent."

"Oh. But your mum . . .didn't she try and explain it?"

Severus snorted. "Nobody ever explained anything to Tobias Snape that he didn't want to hear. And nobody ever defied him, especially not his son."

Harry shivered, for the look in Snape's eyes was terrible to behold. "He sounds like Uncle Vernon. Only he never . . . smacked me around."

"Neglect is abuse too," Snape hissed. "So is locking a boy in a cupboard for days. Or making your wife work like a dog and then taking her pay to drink it all down at the pub. They are one and the same."

"I couldn't tell. It would've made things worse."

"I know."

"Nobody would've listened anyway."

"I know. Only one other ever knew about me."

"Who?"

"Lily."

"Did she . . . help you?"

"She tried. But she was a child too, and all she could do was listen." Severus reached out and clasped Harry's hand in his own. "I am not a child, Mr. Potter. I will listen, but I will also act. I am pledged to protect you, and sending you back to Privet Drive violates my oath, since you are not safe there."

"But Dumbledore said I have to go back there. That my mother's love protected me from . . .You-Know-Who."

Snape made a disgusted noise. "The Headmaster places too much emphasis on blood ties. He believes that family should look after family, and the old magic works best upon those related by blood to one another. But he fails to realize that sometimes the ones who hurt us most are family."

"Especially if they never wanted you in the first place," Harry said bitterly. "I was never really their nephew, just a burden on them. Or so my aunt always said. She always said I was the cross her sister left for her to bear."

"Typical. And you believed it and felt guilty and ashamed."

"Yeah."

"But it was not so. There is no shame in surviving, Potter. The shame belongs to those who would take your right to do so away. Your aunt made a choice that night, as did Dumbledore. But you were the one who had to live with it. Until now. Now you have to make a choice. To endure in silence like always, or to reveal the secrets you have hidden to Wizarding Children and Family Services. I shall help you as best I can, but the first step must be yours."

"Can't you just . . . file a report or something?"

"Certainly. But you have to confirm it."

Harry gnawed his lower lip. He had hidden the truth for so long, could he really talk about it now to a stranger? You're talking to Snape about it. His conscience argued. But Snape was no longer a stranger. And he understood how it was. "I . . . I'm scared."

Snape's hand squeezed his gently. "Anyone would be."

"I don't want to remember. It hurts."

"Yes, but sometimes healing is painful. In the end, you can look them in the eye and know that no matter how hard they tried, they couldn't beat you. You never let them win, in spite of everything, you're still here and here you will stay. It is the hardest thing you will ever do, harder even than facing a dark wizard. But you have the courage. Unlike me."

Harry shook his head. "No. I'm brave because I have you, sir. Who did you have?"

Snape said nothing, but they both knew the answer to the question. No one. Abruptly, Severus looked away from that too intuitive green-eyed gaze. "Don't feel sorry for me, Potter. I survived."

"I'm glad," he said sincerely. Truer words had never been spoken.

"We can discuss this more back at the castle," Snape changed the subject neatly. "I'll need to talk with the Headmaster before we contact anyone in the Ministry." He did not say so, but having Albus on their side would help to pave the way through red tape tremendously. Plus, Dumbledore should know what his choice had cost Harry all those years ago. "Are you ready to travel? I shall cast some Warmth Charms upon you so we won't have a repeat of last time."

**You need not fret so, professor. I s-s-shall take you back to Hogwarts, the s-s-snow is too deep for you to walk, and both of you are unwell s-still.** The Wise One lifted her head and stared at them.

Severus opened his mouth to protest, then recalled that Harry was still recovering and travellingupon the Wise One would be infinitely easier on both of them. If only he could rid himself of this dratted cough! "Very well." He began casting.

Harry felt the charm settle about him like a fuzzy electric blanket, wrapping him in warmth. He sighed in relief, then rose and handed Snape back his cloak.

Snape fastened it and re-cast the charm upon himself. Now they were ready to face the arctic chill outside.

The Wise One stretched her top length out and Harry and Severus straddled her, somewhere in the middle. Then the giant snake undulated out of the cave, the two Parselmouths astride her, perched like dikdik birds on the back of a rhino. The sun struck the snow and reflected back a dazzling brightness.

Both Severus and Harry had to close their eyes against the glare. The Wise One quickly shielded her eyes with a second transparent eyelid, which enabled her to see through the brilliant glare of the sun upon the blazing white snow. She traveled swiftly across the snowy landscape, her ruff flat against the sides of her head, her body siding easily upon the slick snow. She left a large trail behind her, however, though it could not be helped. Unlike her sire, the feathered serpent, she could not fly.

They had gone perhaps a hundred feet from the cave entrance when she heard the low hungry screeching of bloodspawn upon the hunt. Severus stiffened, he recognized the warped howling and drew his wand. Harry just glanced around.

"What's that noise?"

"That is the sound of bloodspawn hunting," Snape replied, looking about for them, but not seeing anything except trees and snow.

"What's that?"

Severus explained what they were and how he had carried Harry to safety into the cave when they started to attack him. The wails and shrieks became louder and the Wise One hissed in anger, her head bobbing from side to side. "Wise One, the bloodspawn appear to be hunting us," said the Potions Master.

**Yess, they overstep their bounds. Their new leader is bold, and forgets-s in whose territory he hunts.** She swung her head about to fix them with her bright jade green gaze. There was no fear in her eyes. **If they ssseek to make me prey, they ssshall learn why I am not to be disturbed. If they come for me, get down and keep behind me. Underssstand?**

"I can help you fight them," Severus pointed out.

**I appreciate the offer, but it is not necessary. In fact it is bessst if I handle this. they need to learn that I am not to be trifles with.** The ruffed serpent's frill stood out from her head and her eyes glowed with determination.

They continued on their way. The Wise One slithered across a snowy glade, her head lowered slightly. Abruptly she halted and raised her head. She had felt some odd vibrations through the air.

Above them, in the tree tops, came several loud snarls and wails as the bloodspawn emerged from the trees and sprang for the Wise One, Severus, and Harry.

"Potter! Down!" shouted the professor, grabbing Harry and rolling off the serpent just as a bloodspawn landed upon her back and swiped at the spot where they had been sitting moments before.

The two wizards landed in the snow, and Severus quickly regained his feet and pulled Harry away from where the golden serpent was fighting against a pack of twenty bloodspawn.

"No! We have to help her!" Harry struggled in Snape's grip, gazing upon the fighting serpent and the vicious pack of hybrid cat-weasels in terror.

But Severus held Harry firmly in an unrelenting grip. "Potter, be still! This once, you shall obey your elders. She knows what she's about, she's had centuries of experience. We would only be in the way, a distraction. Look there!" He pointed to where the Wise One had whirled about and struck at the bloodspawn upon her back, her fangs biting deep into the cat-like creature's shoulder.

She jerked her head back, the bloodspawn dangling from her jaws like a mouse, then flicked her head and sent the broken, poisoned, bloodspawn flying through the air to slam against a tree.

Immediately, some of the pack broke away, drawn by the smell of blood, and began to feast upon their dead packmate.

Harry nearly threw up upon seeing that. "That's totally disgusting! They're eating it!"

Severus' lip curled. "Bloodspawn don't care where their next meal comes from."

The Wise One reared up half her length and wrapped four lunging bloodspawn in her coils and constricted, suffocating her enemies, while simultaneously swiveling her upper half about and spraying the other five who were springing at her with her sleeping mist.

Instantly, their limbs went slack and they crashed to the earth, sound asleep as if they'd been hit over the head with a hammer.

The other ten were clawing and snapping at her, but her scaled hide turned away their teeth and claws as if they were mere paper. Two more fell to her fangs, her venom slaying them almost instantly.

The other eight circled and spat at her, wary now, and beginning to fear her. The Wise One's eyes narrowed to slits. Then she opened her mouth impossibly wide . . . and roared.

The roar was unlike anything either wizards or bloodspawn had ever heard before. It echoed and re-echoed through the trees, as menacing as any dragon's, and powerful enough to cause the remaining bloodspawn to freeze in their tracks or flee as quickly as their paws could take them.

Harry stared at the massive serpent with awe. "Merlin! But that was like . . . the most awesome fight ever! She totally thrashed them!"

The Wise One turned about, carefully avoiding the blood spattered snow, and glided over to them. Her scales were glowing slightly. **Apollo's Far Seeing Eye! I haven't fought a battle like that in I can't recall how long. I forgot how a good fight makes the blood race. Wicked carrion eaters! At least they won't be around to tear apart innocent young wizards any longer.**

"You were brilliant!" Harry grinned.

**Thank you, Harry. Come, mount, we are only a few kilometers from the school.**

Harry and Snape climbed aboard the golden snake. "I was not aware you could roar like a celestial serpent," Severus said, admiration coloring his tone.

**Yes, well, that was one of the defenses my sire endowed my siblings and me with. Though we prefer to heal instead of kill, all ruffed serpents can fight when we must.**

"You sure can!" Harry said. "I'll bet you could even lick the basilisk."

**If it came to it, I might be able to,** the Wise One answered. **Though I would much prefer to talk to my basilisk cousin rather than fight him.**

They continued through the Forbidden Forest, the Wise One moving at a fast clip, weaving in and out of the trees.

Harry squinted, the trees were blurs, and the wind whipped his hair back, though he was not even the slightest bit cold.

Within fifteen minutes they had emerged from the forest, about ten feet from Hagrid's hut, where a small party of wizards and witches had gathered. Severus saw Hagrid, Dumbledore, Sprout, and Flitwick. The rescue party has finally got underway. Too bad it's no longer necessary.

The Wise One halted and said, **Here is where we part, my friends. You are back home, and safe, as promised. It was a pleasure speaking with you, and if you should ever need me again, you know where to find me.** She turned and lowered her head. In a moment she lifted her head and presented both wizards with a gleaming golden scale. **Use this to find your way back to my home, should you need me. The scale will grow warmer when you are near the cave. Best of luck, my apprentices! Come and visit me again. I would be pleased to instruct you on brewing any kind of healing potion.**

"It was an honor to meet you, Wise One. I shall take you up on your offer over the break," Snape hissed in Parselmouth.

"So will I," Harry added, clutching his scale tightly. He would miss the great serpent, her kindness and wisdom had helped him a great deal. "Have a very merry Christmas, Wise One."

**You as well, littling! Until we meet again, my wizardsss!** then the ruffed golden serpent turned and slipped back across the field and into the Forbidden Forest quick as blinking.

Harry stared after her wistfully, until Severus put a hand upon his shoulder. "Come along, Potter. Everyone is sure to be worried that you are missing and will be glad to see you safe and sound." He shepherded Harry up the path to where the other wizards and witches were milling about.

Dumbledore was the first to spot them. "Severus! Harry! What a fortunate coincidence! We were just coming to search for you two. How are you? Not too cold, I hope? Come along, let's get inside. I have some hot spiced cider and cocoa for you. You can tell me all about your adventure over some scones and apple fritters."

His blue eyes twinkling, Dumbledore led the way back to the castle, happy to have his professor and the Boy Who Lived back under his wing once more.

"Now Poppy, they seem fine to me-" began the Headmaster.

Pomfrey fastened a stern look upon the old wizard. "Are you the mediwitch, or am I?" she demanded tartly.  "At least Mr. Potter must come with me and be examined. You ought to come too, Severus."

"I need to speak with Severus first," Albus conceded. 

"I can dose myself," Snape added firmly. He detested others fussing over him like a helpless child.

"Mr. Potter, come with me," ordered the mediwitch.

"But . . ." Harry turned pleading eyes upon Albus. The cocoa and treats sounded heavenly and he was starving.

"Sorry, Harry. Maybe later I shall send you some scones and cocoa, if Madam Pomfrey permits it." Dumbledore said regretfully. "Run along now, my boy.  Thank goodness you are all right." He then beckoned Severus up past the gargoyle entrance.

Harry stifled a groan and reluctantly followed the mediwitch. It wasn't fair. Why did Snape get out of the Hospital Wing and not him? He didn't even feel sick anymore thanks to Snape and the Wise One. 

Once they had reached Poppy's domain, she insisted upon giving him a set of pajamas and running several diagnostics upon him, giving him a full workup. Harry counted the threads in the sheets while he waited for Pomfrey to finish. 

Finally she drew herself up and frowned at him.  "Mr. Potter, you recently had a very dangerous case of bronchitis, I am amazed that Professor Snape was able to bring down your fever and mend you the way he did considering the circumstances. However, you still need plenty of bed rest, liquids, and food as well. I want you to remain here for the night, just in case. Tomorrow morning you may go back to Gryffindor Tower."

"Yes, ma'am." Harry acquiesced, lying obediently upon the bed.  For some reason, the bed, though very comfortable, made him wish he was back in the cave, sleeping upon the Wise One. He closed his eyes, thinking he would just rest them for awhile.

He woke up some four hours later to see Ron and Hermione looking down upon him, smiling.  He sat up and smiled at them shyly. "Hey."

"Hi, Harry. How are you feeling?" asked Ron.

"Okay."

"Oh, Harry!" exclaimed Hermione. "We were so worried! How on earth did you ever wander out into a blizzard like that? Were you sleepwalking or something?"

Up until then, Harry hadn't had time to think up a reasonable explanation as to why he'd gone outside during a snowstorm. But luckily Hermione had come up with one. "Err  . . . yeah, that was it. Sometimes I do that and I don't know why."

Ron whistled. "Pretty wicked, mate."

Hermione frowned at him.  "Wicked? Ron, he could have been killed1 Frozen to death or worse. Luckily Professor Snape saw him leave and followed him."

Ron harrumphed. "I'll bet the only reason the greasy git followed him was to give him detention, right, Harry? How many points did the bat take?"

"None."

Ron goggled. "Huh? Not even ten?"

Harry shook his head. "No detention either. He . . .he saved my life." For some odd reason, saying it aloud made it seem more real.

"That's a first," Ron said.  "But you had to spend all night with him in a cave, right? Or was it a tree?"

"A cave.  It was cold and I was sick, but Snape helped me," Harry said, trying not to reveal too much about his ordeal. He knew Severus and the Wise One did not want him to speak about them. 

"Well, I'm glad you're going to be all right, Harry," Hermione said sincerely. 

"Me too," added Ron loyally. "Now why don't we fill you in on what's been happening since you got lost?"

Ron informed him that there had been another student petrified the day after Harry disappeared, Justin Fitch-Fletchley of Hufflepuff and also Nearly Headless Nick as well.  "Don't ask me how a ghost could be petrified, but he was."

Harry glanced down at his hands and thought, It's happening again. If I'd been here, could I have stopped the basilisk? Something has to be done about it. But what? I need to talk to Snape.

"It's really sad, but here's the good news," said Hermione excitedly. "I went to check on it, and guess what? It's ready!"

"It is? But I thought we still had a few days left to brew," Harry said.

Hermione looked slightly smug.  "We-e-ll, I . . . sort of . . .accelerated the potion a little."

"Accelerated it how?" asked Harry, mystified.

Hermione blushed and looked at her shoes. "You see . . .while you and Professor Snape went missing, I thought it would be best if we could drink it before the term ends and we all have to go home for break. So I . . . went down to the professor's office and found a book on accelerating and slowing down potions. Then I followed the directions and accelerated it and now it's finished."

Harry gaped at her. "Hermione, I'm shocked! Stealing from a professor!" he teased, speaking very softly.

"Harry, I didn't steal anything!" she protested. "I just borrowed the recipe and I put the book back where I found it."

He smirked. "Can't you take a joke? I was only teasing."

"Now we can get into the Slytherin common room and see if Malfoy's really the Heir of Slytherin," said Ron eagerly.

Given all he had learned about Salazar and the basilisk from both Severus and the Wise One, Harry started to wonder if they were right in thinking Malfoy really was the Heir of Slytherin. But he didn't want to say anything and dash their hopes, not after risking so much to brew the Polyjuice Potion.  "That's great, Ron! But . . . I'm stuck here in the Hospital Wing for . . .a few days, till Madame Pomfrey thinks I'm out of danger."

"Aww, Merlin!" Ron kicked the bed post. "Now what?"

"You'll have to go ahead and do it without me. You and Hermione."

Ron looked dismayed.  "It doesn't seem right."

Harry sighed. "Just do it, okay? We need to be sure it's Malfoy."

"Who else could it be?"

"That's what we're going to find out." Hermione said eagerly. "I hope. We'll do it tonight."

Harry smiled. "Tell me how it goes."

"We will," Hermione promised.

Just then Madam Pomfrey bustled in and shooed the two Gryffindors out of the room, leaving Harry to either sleep or be bored to death.  As he lay there in bed, he wondered how Snape was faring with Dumbledore.

SSSHPHPHP

After the obligatory cup of tea and scones, which tasted better than normal, perhaps because he was hungrier than usual, Severus was ready to get down to business. He had never liked wasting time on pleasantries when he had something important to say, and this time was no exception.  "Albus, there is something we need to discuss, and it concerns Potter."

Albus' eyes lit with that damnable twinkle and he said, "Of course, Severus.  What new complaint do you wish to make about him?"

Snape ignored the gibe.  "I have recently learned some things about Potter that are of grave importance. First, he is a Parselmouth and the Sorting Hat originally wished him to be placed in my House."

Dumbledore's eyebrows rose. "A Parselmouth? But we haven't had a Parselmouth since Tom Riddle, I believe."

Severus nodded abruptly. He had never informed the Headmaster of his own ability, nor of the fact that he too was related to Salazar Slytherin. Had Dumbledore wished, he could have found the latter out, the Prince family tree was a matter of public record, but Dumbledore had never bothered to look and Snape saw no reason to enlighten him and draw more unwarranted suspicion down upon his head. Snape knew he was already damned for betraying the Potters unwittingly. No need to add anything to his already tattered reputation.

"That was why he ran out into the snow.  He thought he was going mad. He heard the voice of the basilisk."

"The basilisk spoke to him?" Dumbledore looked alarmed. "But that would mean . . ."

"No, Albus," Snape cut him off abruptly.  "He is not the Heir of Slytherin just because he is a Parselmouth. Or because he heard the basilisk mumbling to itself about killing and eating people."

"The basilisk said that?"

"According to Potter," replied the Potions Master, then he began to cough violently.

"My boy, you sound as if you ought to be in bed," Dumbledore said worriedly.

"Later," Severus waved off his concern.  "From what Potter told me, the basilisk is moving about the castle somehow, for he has heard it in different places."

Albus frowned, perplexed.  "That is a problem. Someone has released the basilisk from the chamber, Severus. Only I have no idea who could have done it, only that whoever has done so must be a Parselmouth, for the legend says only a Parselmouth can release the monster beneath the castle.  It must be stopped, Severus, before it kills someone."

"I know.  Perhaps . . ." he had been about to suggest that a solution might be found soon, while trying not to reveal his ace in the hole, when he began gasping for breath and coughing once again. His chest felt as if iron bands were squeezing him and spots began to dance before his eyes. This fit lasted longer than the previous one and when Severus finally regained his composure, the Headmaster was looking very alarmed.

"Severus, I insist you go and lie down. You are exhausted and seem very ill. That cough sounds very nasty." Albus urged, Snape was even paler than normal, and reddish spots highlighted his sallow cheekbones.

"I shall, but first let me tell you the rest," began Severus, his words rasping in his throat.  "In the cave, Potter talked in his sleep, and revealed some very disturbing facts about his life with the Dursleys."

"We can discuss this later-"

Severus slammed a hand down upon the desk.  "No! It must be now, Albus! He cannot go back there, not ever again. They have starved and neglected him, treated him like a burden to be forgotten, an unworthy freak. He ran into the snow in nothing but a pair of pajamas and shoes because he had nothing else to wear in the winter, Albus. No coat, no boots, not even a pair of gloves!"

"I don't understand, Severus. They have plenty of money, I send them a stipend monthly to cover all of that and they are well-to-do, so why . . .?"

"Why do they treat their nephew like a stray dog to catch the kick in the ribs?" Severus rasped angrily.  "Why do people like that do anything? They are petty, narrowminded, selfish people, who care only about themselves and their wants.  As Minerva once said, they are the worst kind of Muggles.  How is it that you never knew what went on over there, Albus? Why did you never check and see that your precious savior was being treated well?"

"I did ask Mrs. Figg to keep an eye on him.  She never mentioned anything about neglect or abuse to me." Albus protested faintly.

"Did she ever set foot inside the house to see? Perhaps listen at the keyhole? No? Then she would not have been able to gather the right information.  I will say it again, Albus.  He must not return to Privet Drive. He is not safe there. Physically or emotionally."

Dumbledore looked him straight in the eye. "Severus, I have no choice. He must go back."

"Why? So you can make a martyr out of him?" asked the other savagely.

"A martyr? Oh, Severus! Blood wards will protect him best from Voldemort and his allies. Petunia is Lily's sister."

"Sister or not, Petunia Dursley is a selfish, intolerant, calculating bitch.  She cares for herself and her son and her husband. Potter is an afterthought. The blood wards might protect him from curses and Death Eaters, but who will protect him from her?"

No sooner had the words left his mouth than he went into a spate of sneezing and coughing that once again robbed him of his breath.

When he stopped, Albus had his arm about Snape's shoulders and was swatting his back. "Easy there, Severus. Why don't we continue this discussion later, when you are feeling well?"

Severus, who felt like death warmed over, could not manage to muster up any energy to insist that Albus should listen to him and perhaps go to see for himself that Harry was telling the truth and he needed to be removed from the Dursley residence before he turned jaded and hard like Severus had.  "They put him in a cupboard, Albus! A cupboard!" He managed to get out before a wave of dizziness swamped him. 

"Yes, yes, I understand," soothed the Headmaster.  "Go to bed, Severus. You need rest and potions. Are you sure you do not want Poppy to see you?"

Severus shook his head stubbornly.  "No. I can take care of myself."

"Always independent," chuckled the Headmaster. "Will you be well enough to teach classes tomorrow?"

"I don't know. It depends," was all Snape could answer. He allowed Albus to Floo him down to his quarters, where he gulped down a Pepperup potion and a Decongestive Reliever and a mild Fever Reducer.  He was furious at how his body had suddenly betrayed him for he had left a great deal unsaid between Albus and himself.  If that were not enough, he wasn't even certain the Headmaster believed him. What a bloody mess! He thought, quickly removing his clothing and pulling on a pair of pants and a soft green shirt with snake scale imprints

Afterwards he fell upon his bed and knew nothing more.

SSHPSSHPSS

Ron and Hermione returned from their infiltration of the Slytherin common room. There was nothing interesting to discover, Draco himself told who he thought was Goyle and Millicent Blustrode that he didn't know who was the person behind the attacks.  Harry was frustrated.  It seemed they had gone through all that trouble for nothing.  He would have probably learned more by asking the basilisk directly.

If only he could find it. Or the entrance to the Chamber of Secrets. But he hadn't heard the voice since coming to the Hospital Wing. 

"Well, at least we tried," Hermione said comfortingly.

"Right," Harry sighed.

"How long will you be stuck in here?" asked Ron.

"A few more days, I think." Harry made a face. "Till Christmas probably."

"That really sucks," Ron groaned. "We'll be leaving for break soon. Will you be staying over here for the holidays again?"

"Yes." Harry answered.  "I like it that way."

"Your aunt and uncle don't mind that you spend Christmas at school?" Hermione queried.

"Not really. They're not one for the holidays," Harry replied. It was not quite a lie. Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon celebrated Christmas with Dudley, but Harry had always been ignored and treated like he didn't exist.  He saw no reason to go back to that when he could be here, and at least enjoy a real Christmas dinner and a few gifts given by his friends. 

"Oh. Well, term ends tomorrow and we can see how we did on our finals over break," Hermione said excitedly.

"I'd rather not," Ron said glumly. "I think I failed potions."

"Because you don't study," Hermione interjected. "How can you pass anything if you don't study?"

Harry let the good-natured quarreling over marks wash over him, his mind was already searching for a way to try and lure out the basilisk so he could speak to it, or at least discover the way into the Chamber.  But he too was weary and he soon fell asleep while his friends bickered.

The next morning, Ron and Hermione discovered that the last potions class was cancelled for the term, and no explanation was given, just a note upon the door to that effect.  All the Gryffindors celebrated and cheered. Even some of the Slytherins looked relieved.    After lunch, all the students leaving packed, and then went to catch the Express at Hogsmeade.  Hermione and Ron bid goodbye to Harry and wished him a Happy Christmas, promising to send him gifts soon.

The castle emptied and soon the halls were silent save for Peeves' occasional cackling and groaning and the ghosts chuckling to each other.  This term, Harry was the only Gryffindor student remaining at the school for break.  There were two Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs, but no Slytherins.  Harry was about ready to chew his fingers and toes off before Poppy finally released him from the Hospital Wing two nights later.

He raced up the stairs to Gryffindor Tower and got into some normal clothing instead of those awful hospital pajamas he'd been living in for the past three days. Then he went downstairs and revisted all the old haunts where he had first heard the basilisk.  But there was no raspy voice coming from the walls.

Frustrated, Harry decided to visit the dungeons, reasoning that might be where the Chamber was located.  He walked past Snape's office and classroom, the Slytherin portrait hole, and trailed his hand along the wall. He began muttering in Parseltongue, trying to see if that might summon the basilisk to him, or perhaps unlock the entrance to the chamber, when he heard a small but distinct click.

What was that? he hissed in Parseltongue to himself.  He went back a few feet along the wall, where a tapestry hung of two trees in a hedged park with a dark-haired boy and a red-haired girl sitting upon swings. Harry had never seen that particular one before, and wondered how he could have missed such a cheery design, it seemed out of place among the stark dungeon walls and the glowering portraits that lined the wall further down. 

He studied the picture for a moment, wondering why the two children looked somewhat familiar.  Then he carefully pushed aside the tapestry and found a tall arched doorway.  The door was standing slightly ajar, and Harry grew excited. He carefully pushed the door to, expecting to see a long dark passageway leading down to the bowels of the earth and the lair of the basilisk.

Instead the door opened onto a small sitting room furnished with black and green furniture and thick rugs.  A small fire was crackling in the fireplace and there upon the hearth was sprawled the prone figure of Professor Snape.

Harry gasped.  Then he ran to the professor's side.  "Sir? Professor, are you all right? Sir, can you hear me?" He shook Snape's shoulder hard.

But Severus remained still, his eyes closed, face flushed a deep red with fever, obviously unconscious and gravely ill. 

Harry just stared down at the man he used to think of as invincible, a man so strong and hard that nothing could ever defeat him, who had rescued him from a blizzard without flinching.  Surely this was a mistake? He was dreaming.  He was hallucinating.  Snape could not be here, lying like this. 

He started getting sick in the cave, before we left.  And now he's become worse.

Harry's mind raced.  He had to get help, but Poppy Pomfrey had left for Christmas holidays like all the other teachers save for Snape and . . .Dumbledore.

Harry put his fingers to Snape's neck, feeling for a pulse. It was there and he breathed a sigh of relief.  How long had Snape been lying here like this? It was impossible to know.  Frightened and scared, Harry forced himself to his feet and went over to the fireplace.  He scanned the mantel, looking for a jar of Floo Powder. Ron had explained that most wizards and witches kept a jar nearby so they could visit back and forth with each other and right now Harry needed to find Dumbledore's office.

He finally spied a medium sized jar labeled neatly upon the left side and grabbed it. He then recalled Mrs. Weasley's instructions about using the Floo and tossed a handful into the fire. The flames changed into an electric green with a whoosh.

Harry carefully spoke the words, "Dumbledore's office."

Then he stepped into the fire and the flames whisked him away to the Headmaster's office.  He tumbled out of the large fireplace in front of Dumbledore's desk, landing in an ungraceful heap on the hearth, covered with ashes and soot.

A startled Albus looked up from the pile of reports he was addressing. "Harry! How nice of you to drop in, my boy! Anything I can do for you?"

Harry coughed and sputtered for a few seconds before managing to say, "It's Snape, sir! He's . . . passed out on the floor of his . . . err . . . room and he needs help . . . He's very sick! You have to help him!" He gulped hard to keep from totally flying to pieces, tears shimmering unnoticed in his green eyes.

Dumbledore was on his feet, sending his parchments flying all over the floor. The look in his eyes was one of unfeigned alarm. "Come, Harry. There's not a moment to lose." He tossed down a handful of Floo Powder and called out, "Professor Snape's quarters!" before stepping through, Harry clinging to his sleeve. Inwardly, the old wizard scolded himself for not keeping a better eye on the stubborn younger wizard, who had a tendency to ignore his own health at times.  He prayed it was not too late to save the brilliant wizard, who had at last begun to feel compassion for the boy who had been his best friend's son.

"My poor boy!" Albus exclaimed upon seeing the limp form lying upon the hearth. He immediately knelt and felt Snape's throat and forehead. There was a pulse, but the man's breathing was shallow and his skin was afire.  Air wheezed in and out of Snape's mouth, Dumbledore winced at the tortuous sound it made, like the last gasp of a dying animal.  His blue eyes were filled with concern and not a little fear. "I should have checked up on him. I know what a stubborn ass he can be about taking care of himself," he muttered, half to himself.  "He always pushes himself to the limit."

"Can you help him?" Harry asked, staring at his teacher in a dazed kind of horror. Could Snape be . . .dying? He certainly looked dreadful, like the way Harry imagined one would look if he were close to death.  He peered at Dumbledore, who for the first time Harry could remember, did not have the familiar sparkle in his eyes. The old wizard looked distraught and his muttered comments made Harry see that the situation was grave, and that the Headmaster cared more for Snape than he would have thought possible.  Why . . . he sounds almost like he . . . cares for the professor . . . the way a father might . . . or at least the way I think a father might care for a son. How odd! He had never pictured Dumbledore as anyone's father before . . . grandfather, maybe . . . or Snape as anyone's son either, though he must have had a father once . . .

Dumbledore waved a hand and Severus was levitated into the air upon a stretcher.  "We shall need to Floo him to the Hospital Wing, Harry. I can treat him better there." The old wizard explained, even as he tossed down the Floo Powder.  "Hang on to the end of the stretcher, there's a good lad."

Harry obeyed, and soon they had all traveled to the Hospital Wing, which looked very dreary and cold, like a house whose occupants have abandoned it, without Madam Pomfrey there.  Dumbledore lit all the lamps and levitated Severus onto a bed. A wave of his wand and the Potion Master's tight-fitting clothing vanished, transformed into a loose white linen nightshirt. 

Suddenly, Severus began to cough violently, trying to expel the phlegm in his lungs, nearly turning purple with the effort. 

"Oh dear, perhaps I ought to sit you up," Albus cried, and put an arm about the professor, easing him to a sitting position.

The coughing fit eased somewhat, though spasms still wracked the other's tall frame until he retched and spat into a basin the Headmaster held.  Dumbledore frowned at the yellowish discharge and muttered, "Worse than I thought. Damn!" But after he had propped up Severus with several pillows to a semi-upright position, he turned to Harry and said, "Harry, I need you to fetch me several potions from the cabinet in Madam Pomfrey's office. Here is the key."

He handed Harry a small silver gilt key. Then he rattled off a list of healing drafts, mostly dealing with fever reducers and chest congestion.  Harry listened intently and then dashed off. He returned a few minutes later with the required potions.

Dumbledore ran a diagnostic upon Snape, discovering that he was also suffering from a migraine and had a bump on the back of the head where he had hit the hearth stones. Albus performed a minor healing charm upon the dark head, which was all the healing magic he knew, and then whispered a soft, "Ennervate."

Snape blinked, and then the light returned to his obsidian eyes. "What . . . where . . . Albus?"

"I'm here, my boy." The Headmaster said soothingly.  He held a vial to Severus' lips. "I need you to drink this."

Snape tried, but started to cough, and almost choked.

Albus looked startled. "Hmm . . .maybe I ought to . . ."

"Why don't you try a straw, sir?" suggested Harry. "Whenever my cousin Dudley was sick, my aunt always made him drink liquids through a straw, she said it was easier for him to swallow."

"Capital idea!" exclaimed Dumbledore, and conjured one with another casual wave.  He stuck the red and gold curlicued plastic straw into the vial of Fever Reducer and then thrust the straw-bedecked vial at Snape. "Here, Severus, now try!"

The gasping and exhausted Snape didn't have the strength to refuse and slowly sipped at the potion until the vial was empty.

Albus then gave him the others Harry had brought, interspersing them with a glass of cold water. 

By the time all the potions had been administered, Severus' eyes were closing. 

"Tired . . ."

"Yes, I know. Sleep now. Sleep." Dumbledore whispered, and gently brushed the hair away from Snape's forehead, tucking the covers about the lean frame.

Harry watched and bit back a smile, for he was sure the professor would have raised hell at the Headmaster's fussing over him.  Dumbledore really does care for him.  I'm glad. At least someone does. Besides me. That thought startled him most of all, but somewhere during those freezing nights in the Wise One's cave, Harry had come to care about Severus Snape. 

"He'll be okay now, won't he?"

"Yes.  Those were all standard remedies I gave him. He should be fine in a day or two," Albus reassured Harry. "Why don't you go and take a nap, Harry? You were recently sick yourself, you need the rest."

Harry obeyed, he was feeling sleepy.  But he woke in the middle of the night, hearing the basilisk rasp its litany of hunger and death and couldn't fall asleep again alone in his room. So he decided to head down to the infirmary to check on Snape again.

When he arrived he found the professor tossing and turning and groaning in his sleep, his cough was worse, and he was glassy eyed with fever.

Dumbledore was snoozing in a cot nearby, his snores rattling the windows.

"Sir!" Harry shook the old wizard sharply. "Wake up! Professor Snape is worse! Sir!"

Dumbledore stirred. "Eh? Harry? What . . . what's the matter?"

Harry repeated himself and Albus shot up.  "Goodness! Obviously, this must be a worse virus than I thought." He began re-administering the potions again, hoping that it would be enough this time. 

What Dumbledore did not know was that Snape had contracted an infection from Harry and his previous cold had exacerbated the symptoms beyond what normal potions could treat.  He had been dosing himself with them since his return to Hogwarts to no effect, which was how he had ended up passed out on the floor. So Dumbledore's remedies were like spitting on a bonfire.

But the Headmaster did not know and Harry did not realize the potions weren't having the intended effect until a day later, when Snape's fever rose higher and higher and began to break down his carefully constructed inner walls.  In his delirium he became lost in the past, and secrets spilled like bitter poison from his lips . . . secrets of his past that no one was ever meant to know.

Severus felt as if he were on fire, the air he sucked into his lungs burned and he choked and gasped. Pain wracked him, shivering through him in waves, until he barely knew where he was anymore.  He drifted . . .and suddenly he was seven years old again . . .facing the wrath of his father for accidentally setting the couch on fire. . .

"Please, Dad . . . I didn't mean to, it just happened . . . I wasn't playing with matches, honest! Please don't hurt me, I'll never do it again . . . Promise!"

He sobbed as Tobias' belt walloped his thighs and backside, creating a fire ten times worse than the brief flicker of one his magic had conjured and which Tobias had put out with a finger.

Hearing the proud professor beg like a small child, flinching and jerking, horrified Harry so much that he nearly puked.  He exchanged horrified glances with Dumbledore, who was looking at Snape in disbelief.

"Oh, Severus! I never knew! Never! Forgive me . . .I should have guessed . . ."

"He never told you?" Harry whispered.

"No.  He never even hinted at it." Dumbledore looked stricken.

"He told me . . . that he understood when he found out about the Dursleys. But I never thought . . . he had it worse than I ever did.  At least Aunt Petunia never beat me that way . . . well once she swung a frying pan at my head, but it missed . . ."

Now Dumbledore was looking at Harry with the same startled horror.  "You too, Harry?"

Harry squirmed but managed to meet his Headmaster's eyes squarely. "Yeah, but I didn't have it that bad. . . they just locked me in a cupboard and made me skip meals a lot . . .and I had to do chores . . .But that doesn't matter now, sir. We need to do something to bring that fever down."

"I'm trying, Harry.  But nothing I've done seems to work," Dumbledore said, despair in his tone. "Perhaps I need to contact St. Mungos . . ."

A Healer was summoned and tried stronger potions, but Snape remained unresponsive. His fever fluctuated and at a loss, the Healer declared there was nothing more he could do.  "I'm sorry, Albus, but he's too far gone, the virus has attacked his magical core. All we can do now is . . . make him comfortable."

Harry remained frozen, denial sweeping through him like a cold arctic wind.  "No!" he cried. "You're wrong! There has to be something you can do . . .something!"

"I'm sorry, young man, but I've done all I can.  Sometimes not even magic can heal the sick."

"I don't believe you!" Harry shouted, his throat hoarse from holding back sobs. "When I was nearly dead from frostbite he saved me! I nearly died from bronchitis myself but he never gave up." He whirled on Dumbledore. "Sir, you can't give up! You just can't!"

Dumbledore's face twisted in sorrow. "Oh, Harry . . ."

Seeing the defeat in the other's eyes should have broken Harry, but it did not.  Instead it made him even more determined to save his potions professor. He thrust his hand into his pocket, feeling for his wand, and his hand encountered the golden scale instead.

The Wise One's parting gift.

The Wise One!

The ancient serpent would know how to heal Snape, she had helped Severus heal Harry. 

Without saying anything further, Harry turned and ran out of the infirmary.

"Poor boy!" Albus shook his head. "He has grown quite fond of Severus . . ."

He dismissed the Healer, saying there was no longer a need for him to stay.  Then he took up a silent grief-filled vigil beside Snape's bedside. 

Meanwhile, Harry pulled on a scarf and Ron's gloves and wrapped himself in his extra cloak before running out of the door and across the grounds into the forest. He clutched the snake scale in his hand, and whispered in Parseltongue, "Show me the way to the cave! Show me!"

He began walking in what he thought was the right direction, the snow was packed down in spots and as the scale grew warmer, Harry felt a drawing sensation humming through him. 

He knew he was on the right path.

He ran faster through the snowy woods, the scale burning like a beacon in his hand, guiding him unerringly onward.  He was not afraid of the bloodspawn returning, or thinking of anything save getting Snape the help he needed. He can't die! I won't let him! I won't! he repeated over and over as he ran.  The litany sustained him through the bitter cold and gave him strength when he faltered in the drifts.

He didn't know how long it took, but finally he saw the cave and he threw himself at the entrance with a sharp cry, hissing loudly in Parseltongue, "Wise One! I need you!"

**Harry? What is wrong, littling?** the Wise One lifted her wedge-shaped head from her coiled body and slithered forward, her green eyes glowing in alarm. 

Harry suddenly found himself hugging the golden serpent, his eyes leaking tears. "Please, it's Professor Snape, he's very sick . . .they say he's dying . . .can you save him?"

**Dying? Of what? What are his symptoms?**

Harry told the Wise One what had happened and also what the Healer had said.  Somehow he managed to do so without breaking down. 

The Wise One listened intently then spoke, **There is only one thing that may save him now, if what the Healer said was correct.  You must make a potion using my venom and some raw wild honey from my native land.**

"Me, brew a healing potion? But I'm no good at . . ." he trailed off, realizing that it was Snape's last hope.  "Okay. Tell me what to do."

**First, take a deep breath. Again. Now, focus your mind on the task at hand. Only that. To brew you must be calm and collected. Weep afterwards, if you must.**

Harry wiped his eyes and took several deep breaths. When he was calmer and focused he said, "I'm ready. Show me."

**First . . .you shall need a large container, reach up on the shelf in the back of the cave there . . .** She followed Harry to the back of the cave, near the spring, where Severus had left the cauldron he'd conjured, plus the stirrer and the empty vials. 

**Now then, reach up and bend back my left fang, don't be afraid, it doesn't hurt me.  Place the bowl beneath it . . .very good . . .**

Harry saw a golden colored liquid flow into the bowl. It filled it halfway. Then he did the same to the other fang.  Now the bowl was full.

He found the honey, sealed with beeswax in a small jar.  "Now what?"

The Wise One instructed him on the correct way to brew the potion, and Harry followed her directions to the letter.  He was surprised at how easy it was. First the water, then the snake milk, then the honey, then a pinch of rue and some crushed willowbark, now alternate, and then stir five times clockwise and three time counterclockwise, than again vigorously clockwise for a minute. 

The mixture turned a pale milky color with golden flecks.

The Wise One peered at it.

**Well done, Harry! Now you must let it simmer for ten minutes, then you can decant it.**

"You mean . . .I did it right?"

**Indeed! You are a true Healer, like many a Parselmouth before you.** the snake hissed in approval.

Harry almost wept in relief. 

He spent the next ten minutes wearing a hole in the cave floor, while the Wise One watched serenely.

Finally, the potion was ready to decant, and Harry poured the precious elixir into two vials and tucked them in his pocket.  "Thank you, Wise One! Thank you so much!"

When he would have run out of the castle, the Wise One called him.  **Wait! I shall take you there. Every second counts!**

Once more Harry rode the golden serpent through the forest, marveling at how fast the snake could travel.

But unlike the first time, she did not pause at the edge of the forest. Instead she continued, right up the stairs and inside the castle, since the door had been left ajar by Harry when he had run from the castle. 

Harry was amazed that she fit down the corridor, but somehow she managed to shrink herself a bit so she could slither along. He directed her to the Hospital Wing, and she shot down the corridor.

Just as they reached the Hospital Wing, the Wise One stiffened and hissed.  **Harry, beware! I smell my cousin Icefyre nearby!**

But Harry was past caring about the invisible basilisk. All he cared about was getting the elixir into Snape. He slid off the serpent and rushed into the infirmary.

The Healer was gone. Snape was still in the bed, his face flushed with fever, still alive.

Dumbledore was snoozing with his head in his hands beside the bed.

At the foot loomed a gigantic green scaled serpent, swaying over the ill Potions Master, mouth agape.

Harry froze.

The basilisk!

Before it could move, Harry had drawn his wand, and hissed in Parseltongue, "Leave him alone! You can't have him!"

The basilisk started to turn about, letting out a sharp hiss of surprise.

Quicker than thought, the Wise One interposed her body inbetween Harry and the basilisk, shielding him from Icefyre's gaze.  **S-s-saa, cousin! Once again we meet! Do you remember me?**

The basilisk turned and met the ruffed serpent's gaze.  He stared at her for long moments, struggling to clear the mists of madness from his brain.  Finally he hissed, **Wise One? After all this time, you have returned!**

The ruffed serpent inclined her head slightly. **I have. What do you here, cousin?**

**My heir . . .my heir is dying . . .Can you not heal him, cousin? S-Salazar is dying!** moaned the basilisk, and from his great crimson eye fell a single tear.

Harry remained open mouthed in shock as he peered about the Wise One's bulk and caught a glimpse of a most astonishing sight . . . the basilisk weeping! He had never thought to see that, not in a million lifetimes. Who even knew that snakes could cry? Maybe only magical snakes could cry? Even so, the basilisk was crying over the wrong wizard. How had Icefyre mistaken Severus Snape for Salazar Slytherin? Harry quickly ducked behind the Wise One and hissed very softly in Parseltongue, "Is he crazy?"

The Wise One glanced away and answered, **His wits wander now and again, but he is not a slave to madness yet. Centuries of loneliness and longing have caused this to happen.**

**Cousin, make haste, I beg you! His spirit hangs by a thread!** Icefyre groaned pathetically, shaking his head back and forth in denial.

The Wise One looked at him pityingly, then she spoke. **Poor Icefyre! You need not beg me for aid when I would have offered it willingly, especially to a Snake Speaker. However, you must allow my apprentice to approach your heir and administer my special healing draft. Will you agree?**

Icefyre bobbed his head. **I would willingly be spitted and roasted over a fire to save Salazar.**

**No need for such dramatics, cousin. Now hood yourself. My apprentice is another Parselmouth, such as Salazar.**

**As you will.** The basilisk made an odd sort of motion with his head, and Harry saw what he had taken for a ruff similar to the Wise One's about the basilisk's neck was actually a pleated leather hood, similar to one a falconer might use. The basilisk hissed a series of sounds in Parseltongue and the hood suddenly snapped open and slipped over the head of the giant snake, covering the crimson eyes from view, and making him safe for Harry to pass by.

**Hurry, Harry. Time is not your friend.** The Wise One urged.

Harry raced over to Snape's bed and carefully tilted the professor's head up and poured the first few drops down his throat.

Almost immediately, his skin lost the waxen tone and deepened to a normal hue. He breathed easier and swallowed normally. Harry gave him the rest of the precious elixir and when the vial was empty he stepped back and waited. Would it work? Had he been in time? He prayed for Snape to respond.

Ever so slowly, the professor rallied, coming back from the brink of death.

Harry never took his eyes off the figure in the bed, his hands clenched into white knuckled fists.

Behind him the basilisk flicked out his tongue, tasting the air and the scent of the young Parselmouth standing nearby. The green and gold serpent cocked his head curiously. The young one's scent was familiar . . .just like . . .**Morgana!** Icefyre quivered. **You smell like Morgana!**

"Say what?" Harry cried, now totally unnerved. "I'm not a girl!" The basilisk was truly mad after all.

To his shock, he heard the Wise One laugh. **Oh, Harry! He knows that. The lady of whom he speaks of is Morgana Slytherin, Salazar's favorite daughter.**

**You bear her blood, little s-s-snakeling! It's odor is unmistakable.** Icefyre hissed, lowering his head and smelling and tasting deeply of the warm earthy scent that enwrapped Harry like a second skin. **Are you her child then? Why have we not met before? Salazar always brought his children to play with me.**

**Play with you?** Harry sputtered. **He must have been crazy, to let his kids play with a monster. You could have killed them!**

Icefyre jerked up at the accusing tone and protested, **Never would I have harmed them! Salazar created the hood especially for me to wear when they were near. He also made a pair of glasses for himself, so I need not wear the hood in his presence, and he could look in my eyes without fear. They were mirror shades, reflecting the image of what he saw. But they were expensive to craft and Salazar was not a rich wizard, so the hood was best for the children. Did not your mother ever teach you such things, boy?** asked the basilisk suspiciously. He snorted and Harry could feel the serpent's hot breath upon his cheeks. **Or do you seek to trick me?**

Harry backed up, the menace in the basilisk's speech was unmistakable. **No! You don't understand . . .** He looked up at the Wise One for help, then quickly returned his gaze to Snape, who was now starting to breathe deeply and easily.

**Peace, cousin! No one is tricking you. Harry here is Morgana's descendant, her many times great grandson. It is through her blood that he inherits the ability to speak to snakes, like your beloved master.**

"I am?" Harry was totally shocked. "But my dad's family, the Potters, have never been Slytherins, so how could I . . .?" He looked up at the Wise One.

**I shall explain all to you in a moment, but first, look! He awakens!** cried the Wise One.

Harry's eyes darted to the bed, where Severus was just opening his eyes. For a long moment, they were puzzled and unfocused. But then his gaze sharpened and fixed upon Harry.

"Harry."

That was all he said, but that single word made a warm glow spread through Harry. Slowly, he smiled and said, "Professor Snape. Are you . . . do you feel a little better?"

"Yes." He actually felt about ten hundred times better, and wondered what potion Harry had given him to make him feel that way. Only then did Severus look about and then he saw the two great serpents side-by-side. "Great Merlin!"

**S-S-Salazar! You returned to me!** cried Icefyre delightedly. He dipped his great head to inhale more of the familiar beloved scent.

Severus jerked back, alarm and shock written all over him. "Stay away from me!" he cried hoarsely, but did not speak it in Parseltongue, he was too rattled at finding a gigantic venomous snake hovering over him, even if its gaze was rendered harmless.

**Peace, Severus!** soothed the Wise One. **Icefyre would never harm you. You are Slytherin's heir.**

**Harm my wizard? S-S-S-alazar, do you not know me? I am your familiar . . . your companion!** the basilisk sounded heartbroken at Snape's rejection.

Severus gaped at the basilisk. Then he looked at Harry. "Unbelievable! He thinks that I am Salazar Slytherin. But why?"

**I do not think . . . I know! Are your wits wandering?** cried the basilisk, dismayed. **Has the fever stolen your memory from you?**

Severus' eyebrows rose into his hair. "He thinks I'm crazy?"

**It is because of your blood that he believes you are Ssalazar. We sssnakes have always had a keen sense of ssmell. It is the way we identify friend from foe, mostly.** the Wise One explained. **Each perssson has a unique scent, especially Parselmouths. Through the magic in your blood, we can taste and smell those who bear the wisdom of the serpents.**

Severus frowned and thought hard. Would it be prudent to allow the basilisk to believe he really was Salazar? Or would it be wise to tell the great serpent the truth, rather than risk its wrath later when it discovered Salazar was dead? Just how much truth could Icefyre take?

Before he could speak, Icefyre, confused, inquired, **I . . . don't understand. Salazar, you promised you'd return to me when you had saved the family from the evil Inquisitors who were about to burn them. It was your duty, you said, to defend those unjustly accused of witchcraft and condemned to a horrible death. But you promised someday you'd return. . . I waited . . .waited so very long . . . then you sent another in your place . . . a young boy who claimed he was your grandson . . . he had the gift too . . .he stayed and talked with me . . . told me that you had passed the Veil . . . I felt . . . I thought I felt you fade . . .He swore to me that you had been betrayed and that the Muggleborns were responsible. I wanted nothing then save to revenge myself upon those responsible—the faithless miserable cowards!** the basilisk's tail lashed in sudden fury, smashing a few beds across the infirmary where they smashed like ninepins against the wall.

**Hey! Take it easy!** Harry told him, not wanting to get blamed for wrecking the infirmary.

**Peace, cousin, peace! 'Tis long and long ago those things occurred.** The Wise One soothed. **Can you not forgive what happened and forget?**

Icefyre spun on her, his fangs bared. **Forgive those who slaughtered my wizard, my bonded, who protected me as a sssnakeling from those who would have killed me for my fangs and scales? Who would have cut me into pieces for their foul potionss? Monster, they called me, who had harmed none of theirs! Only S-Salazar saved me. Only he was my friend. I sshall never forget . . . or forgive! They all deserve to die!** The basilisk threw back its head and roared in agony. ** Alone . . . all alone in the dark . . . where are you, S-S-Salazar? Where are your children, who used to play with me through the halls? Have they forgotten me? My hunger is great . . . I need fresh meat . . .but there is none in thisss ssstone prison . . .Until he came and freed me, and bade me to hunt the betrayers of Salazar . . .kill . . .kill them all and crunch their bones . . .!**

The basilisk suddenly began to sway back and forth, his voice becoming more and more dangerous, and he hissed an ancient battlecry.

Harry froze, dread stealing through him at the sound of that familiar deranged tone.

The Wise One stiffened, raising her ruff, and prepared to spray the basilisk with a strong dose of soporific mist. She did not want to have to fight Icefyre, but if it came down to it . . .

Severus sat up suddenly. "Stop," he ordered in Parseltongue. "There is no need for you to hunt and kill anyone. Those who harmed Salazar are long dead, their bones turned to dust. Any whom you kill now are innocent of any crime against you. By harming them you shall truly give them cause to label you a monster."

Icefyre halted suddenly. **S-S-Salazar? Is that you? You ssound . . . different.**

Severus drew in a deep breath.

**Be careful, S-Severus S-Snape,** the Wise One hissed in warning.

Snape acknowledged the warning with a small nod. He understood he must tread carefully, for Icefyre was mad with grief and had been manipulated by a master to believe that all Muggleborns were responsible for Salazar's destruction.

"That is because I am different, Icefyre." Snape spoke slowly and carefully. "I have returned, in a fashion, though not as you once knew me. The boy that visited you before, and freed you to hunt Muggleborns, did he tell you his name?"

Icefyre closed his jaws, thinking. It was hard to remember . . . there were gaps in his memory . . .but finally he dredged up the memory of that glorious day. **He smelled like you . . . only there was something . . .not right about him . . .His sscent . . . was like fire and iron . . .the smell of the S-Speaker, yesss, but also sssomething else . . .putrid and cold . . .I did not like it . . . You had never sssmelled thusss, but he called himself your heir, and he had opened the Chamber. He said hiss name was Tom, but he hated that name, and wished to change it. I asked why, when it wasss the name his mother gave him, and he laughed and ssaid, "My mother was a fool, she died wishing for something she never could have, love! I am not my mother, I know that love is for weaklings and there is only one true road to success—power! Ssomeday sssoon I sshall have the power to crush my enemies and all will tremble in fear from me. Will you not help me, Icefyre? Help me on my way to greatness? I released you from your prison, do you not owe me a debt, as Slytherin's heir?" It was true, a debt was owed . . . sso I agreed. . .I thought it was what you would have wished. Was I wrong?**

Severus' jaw tightened. "This will be hard for you to hear, yet I ask that you listen before you react. Will you give me your word not to harm anyone present if what you hear is not to your liking?"

Icefyre dipped his head. **Tell me. You have my sssworn oath.**

"The boy who came to you was indeed related by blood to Salazar Slytherin, however he was not his chosen heir. He sought you out not for your sake, but for his own. He played upon your grief and sorrow and used you to harm those whom he hated. He made you his pawn in his twisted game of power, Icefyre. He is a dark wizard now and he seeks to dominate all the wizarding world."

**Then . . . he does not care for me? He returned . . . gave me leave to hunt as I would . . .he ssaid that he alone cared for me now . . .**

"I am afraid that he lied, Icefyre," Severus said heavily. "The truth is not in him, it never has been. He cares for no one save himself."

The basilisk shuddered. **Why ssshould I believe you?**

Suddenly Harry spoke up, coming out from behind the Wise One to stand next to his professor. "You should trust him because he has never tried to harm you, and because Tom once tried to kill me as baby. My name is Harry Potter, and I'm a descendant of Salazar Slytherin too."

**Listen to him, cousin. He is Morgana's child . . .you remember Morgana, S-Salazar's youngest, who defied him and married a Muggle boy, a physician?**

**Of course. S-S-Salazar loved her best of all, even though sshe defied him.**

"And did Salazar ever suggest that you hunt and kill Morgana's Muggle husband?" asked Severus.

The basilisk shook his head. **No. He belonged to Morgana, and kin ssshall not kill kin.**

**And Harry is Morgana's kin through his mother,** the Wise One reminded him.

"So why would a true heir of Slytherin command you to kill Muggleborns and Muggles?" Severus queried. "Do you not see, Tom lied to you? He attempted to kill Harry, who was kin to him. When that failed, he turned against those he considered inferior and unworthy, those born of Muggles, and used you to do his dirty work."

"He lied and made you into his personal assassin, killing people who had never hurt you or Salazar," Harry clarified.

**Innocent people,** the Wise One added.

Icefyre hissed in anger and regret. **I am no man's plaything! To be bid to sslay and not sslay like a tame dog! Rotten little goat turd! S-s-s-aa! Tricked, am I? Where is the respect I once had?**

"It is here, among us," Severus replied. "I am not your Salazar, but through me his spirit lives on. I am his direct descendant, through his eldest daughter, Theodora, who married Ambrose Prince. Harry and I are your true heirs. We would never coerce you into harming innocent children. We would have you live out your life in peace, here or in the forest, as you choose."

**How do I know you sshall keep your word?**

"Because, like my honorable descendant, Salazar, I will give you Wizard's Oath." Snape answered.

"And so will I," Harry added.

Icefyre hesitated. He slowly inhaled the scents of the two wizards. He knew that they were not lying, as Parseltongue did not allow it. Now that he thought back, he could recall Tom telling him about those Muggles while speaking in the human language. Like the Wise One, Icefyre had learned human speech during his many centuries of life, and could understand it when he wished. For the first time in decades, the ancient basilisk recalled the dreadful bargain the young wizard named Tom Riddle had tricked him into. Oh, he had been so clever, so very sympathetic, but he had lied. And that was one thing Icefyre did not tolerate. **S-s-so, S-Salazar is truly gone?**

"He is. I am sorry for your loss, but he has been gone for centuries."

The huge serpent let out a soft groan. He could feel the truth in Severus' words. It was a truth that scoured to the bone and made him ache, but in his heart and blood he knew that Salazar was no more. **I had hoped . . .but no . . .the bond shattered when his spirit left this world . . .and he took a part of me with him . . . else I'd not have been duped by a sstripling dark wizard. He hass sshamed me, made me become that which I sswore to never be . . . a monster.**

"It wasn't your fault," Harry said quickly. "I mean, you might have done bad things, but you didn't do them out of evil."

"Harry is right. You were manipulated into harming students."

**Their deaths are still upon my head.** the basilisk said sadly. **I cannot bring them back. All I can do is . . .ssearch out the traitor and destroy him.**

Severus stared at the hooded snake, openmouthed.

Before he could speak, Dumbledore awoke and sat up, staring about him in amazement. "Merlin's starry robe! Severus, you're alive! Harry, you did it!"

Harry grinned. "Hello, Professor! Don't be afraid. This is the Wise One, she's a ruffed golden serpent, and the basilisk is hooded, so he can't hurt you. His name's Icefyre."

"Astonishing! I never would have believed it if I hadn't seen it with my own two eyes. Two great serpents together! And a Parselmouth." Dumbledore eyed Harry knowingly.

Harry nodded. Then he added, "Two Parselmouths, sir."

Albus' eyebrow went up. "Two? You as well, Severus?"

Severus sighed. He was a little annoyed that Harry had let the cat out of the bag, but supposed it was bound to come out eventually. "I as well, Albus."

"But that's marvelous, my boy! Simple marvelous!" The Headmaster beamed. He looked fondly at his Potions teacher. "Severus, I am so very glad you are well. You were very close to . . .falling into the Veil. Nothing we tried worked and I feared that you were going to pass on." The old man's lower lip trembled and two tears trickled from his eyes.

Severus looked extremely uncomfortable. "Here now, Albus. There's no need to get all maudlin over me, I'm still breathing, aren't I?"

"You are, but even so . . .I almost lost you, my boy."

"There have been a lot of 'almosts' over the years, Headmaster," reminded his chief agent.

"I know. Too many. And I am to blame. This time is the last."

"The last? What do you mean?" asked Snape sharply.

"What I said. I am through putting you in danger, Severus. And you as well, Harry. I beg your forgiveness for my blindness and promise that I shall do all in my power to keep you safe."

"I am not a child, Albus!" Severus said stiffly. "I can look after myself."

"Can you now?" the other demanded sharply. "Then why did you not see a Healer when you first returned from the forest?"

"I was not aware that my condition warranted one," answered the potions professor defensively.

"You are too stubborn for your own good. Next time I shall tie you to your bed and summon a Healer!"

Severus glared at him. "Who says there will be a next time?"

Albus snorted, sounding remarkably like a certain hardheaded professor of his employ. "With you, Severus, there is almost always a next time. You and Harry both conspire to make my heart stop on a regular basis."

"That is your own fault. I have told you time and again, Albus, not to worry about me— "

"And you can keep saying that, Severus, but I shall never listen, because you are worthy of my care and concern, no matter how much you deny it. And if your father were alive today, I would make him wish he were not!" Albus declared fiercely.

"My father?" Severus repeated. "What does he have to do with anything?"

Albus shot him a sorrowful look. "There is no need to hide the truth any longer. While you were feverish . . . you spoke of many things . . ."

"No!" Snape swore. How could he have revealed that? Not even under the Dark Lord's mind probes had he ever revealed his secret shame. Only Lily and Harry had ever known the truth.

"Severus, it is nothing to be ashamed of," Albus began.

Snape cut him off with a look. "Don't," he said through clenched teeth.

"But he's right," Harry said.

"Shut up, Potter!"

But Harry would not be cowed. "That's what you told me. That I shouldn't be ashamed, because I hadn't done anything but survive. Remember?"

Severus gritted his teeth. But he couldn't deny it. He had told Potter that very thing. He drew in a deep breath. "All right. Now you know. It changes nothing. I don't want your pity."

"Ah, Severus. It is not pity I feel for you, but regret. If things had been different . . ." The elder wizard broke off suddenly. "As you say, done is done. But I shall not be asking you to put yourself in harm's way again. Whether or not you like it, I care about you very much, Severus Snape. And you as well, Harry."

"Please, Albus . . ." groaned Snape. "Let us discuss this later."

Dumbledore chuckled, the old twinkle now restored to his eyes. "Very well, I am just glad to have you back." Then he looked at Harry. "Harry, would you please translate my greetings to both of these magnificent serpents?"

Harry chuckled, he loved how Snape and Dumbledore sparred, it was so very amusing to watch the two of them. "I don't have to, sir. Both of them understand human speech perfectly. But I can translate their replies."

"That would be wonderful!" Dumbledore sounded as delighted as a child. "First, I would like to know how the basilisk traveled unseen through the castle and where he obtained that hood?"

**Tell the Old One that the castle contains many secret passages inbetween the walls and also the pipes that bring water are large enough to contain me if I resize myself to fit them. The hood was made for me by my wizard sso I would not be a danger to his apprentices or his children.**

"Very smart of him. But then, from all I have read, Salazar Slytherin was a brilliant man. Very innovative and clever."

**He was the best of all of you.** Icefyre said loyally.

Dumbledore was soon engaged in a lively conversation with Icefyre about the basilisk's origins and his life with Salazar and his family, as well as the other Founders. Harry translated while Severus spoke with the Wise One, thanking her for saving his life.

**No thanks are necessary, S-Severus. I did what any mistress would do for her apprentices-s.**

Severus blushed faintly. "You honor me. And I know of one wizard who would never do what you just did for me."

The Wise One hissed in distaste. **That one is no true wizard. Nor teacher. He foulss the name of wizardry. Though not for much longer, if Icefyre has his way.**

"Will he really seek out You-Know-Who and fight him?"

**There is nothing so proud as a basilisk, my friend. Icefyre does not take such deception lightly. Nor does he forgive. The Deceiver's days are numbered.**

"Maybe. The Deceiver is a powerful wizard. I do not believe he can be defeated so easily, even by a basilisk."

The Wise One snorted. **The basilisk's fangs hold the most potent poison known to man. The merest scratch and he is bound for the Veil.**

"True, but it is getting close enough that will be hard."

**Icefyre knows what he is about. There is no sserpent ssslyer than a basilisk. He is a master at ssslipping through sshadows. And he has a sscore to ssettle, which means he sshall not quit till the Deceiver's bones are crunched inside his gullet. Powerful the Deceiver may be, but no wizard is undefeatable.**

"I know, and yet . . . I would not like to see Icefyre dead."

**It is out of your hands, S-Severus. Icefyre chooses his own path now, as do we all.**

Severus did not bother to debate further, for he knew the Wise One was right. If the basilisk was bent on revenge for Voldemort's betrayal, nothing could stop him. All the Potions Master could do was hope the serpent succeeded. How ironic it would be if Voldemort were killed by the snake he had supposedly mastered?

" . . .and yet you say that he returned here to release you?" Dumbledore queried. "But how is that possible? I would know if he set foot on Hogwarts grounds."

**Nevertheless, he was here. I never forget a voice, and he called me from sslumber and bade me hunt again. He assured me that he would make it sso no rooster's call would harm me.**

"So you heard only his voice? You never saw him?"

The basilisk shook his head negatively.

Dumbledore frowned. "Most strange. I wonder . . .given his predisposition to mind control and magics of possession . . .could he perhaps be working through a medium?"

"Such as another student or professor?" Severus hazarded.

"Exactly. But how or who, I have no idea. Have you noticed anything . . .different in any students lately?"

"No, but then I haven't been myself since the blizzard," admitted Snape grudgingly. "When term begins again, I shall keep a sharp eye out for anyone behaving oddly. One who is mind controlled eventually will reveal it."

Albus nodded. "You're right. That is not something one can hide forever."

**Tom wished to control me. If I am gone, perhaps his hold will sshatter, as I am no longer there to be his pawn.** The basilisk pointed out.

"Where will you go?" asked Albus, alarmed.

The basilisk bared his formidable fangs. **To hunt the Betrayer to the ends of the earth and bring him to justice. A final justice.**

Dumbledore made no comment, simply nodded. It was not how he had imagined things would go when the basilisk had been released, but it was far better than he had imagined. Not only did Harry not have to fight the serpent, but now Voldemort had a new enemy, one that just might prove to be his undoing. "When will you leave?"

**As soon as I have hunted and rested. In a day or two.**

"How will you find him?"

Icefyre laughed, a sound like boiling oatmeal. **Ahh, youngling! That is simple. We are bound by S-S-Salazar's blood, I can track him over ssea and sstone easily. There is nowhere he can go that I cannot find him. And when I do . . .then he sshall know the wrath of Icefyre!**

The great serpent roared and all the wizards covered their ears. Not one of them wanted to be in Voldemort's boots.

Icefyre bid farewell to them soon after, and followed the Wise One from the castle, she had told him she would show him where to find large game to satiate his appetite.

Once the serpents had departed, Dumbledore had the house elves fix some food for them and after eating, ordered Severus to get some rest.

"What are you, Albus, my mother?" groused the reluctant wizard.

"I wish," laughed the purple-robed wizard. "You wouldn't have a hope in hell of disobeying her."

"Humph!"

"Please, Severus, you need to rest. You've pushed yourself to the limit, now be sensible and set a good example for Harry." Dumbledore reasoned. "Don't make me put you on sick leave."

"You wouldn't dare!"

"I would if I thought you were endangering your health," Albus said firmly.

Their eyes locked. Severus yawned, but refused to look away.

He would not give in . . .he would not . . .

His eyes shut in spite of himself and before he knew it, he was asleep.

"Not even stubborn wins over exhaustion," said Albus softly. "Thought you'd have learnt that by now, my boy."

"He did, he'll just never admit it," Harry remarked.

"Too right, my boy. Now, might I suggest the same for you? A good sleep will do wonders for your cold, Harry. And tomorrow or the day after, we can visit your relatives."

"My relatives? What for?"

"So I can speak with them about their abominable treatment of you, of course. And if necessary, make other arrangements for you over the summer."

"Other arrangements? Like what?" asked Harry suspiciously.

"A different guardian, that sort of thing."

"Who?"

Dumbledore coughed and looked pointedly at the man lying asleep in the bed. "Would Severus be acceptable to you, Harry?"

Harry bit his lip, not knowing how to respond. "Uh . . .I . . .well . . .can I take some time and think about it?"

"Of course, Harry. There's no rush. I haven't even broached the matter with Professor Snape as yet. Although, I would like to see you happily settled before the end of the year."

"Oh. Yeah, I guess that would make sense," Harry said. While he would be overjoyed to never darken Privet Drive again, he was unsure if living with Snape was the right thing to do. Even if Snape did understand him best. He didn't want to be a burden on the solitary professor, nor a duty to be endured. He just wanted a place to belong and someone who cared about him, like everyone else he knew. It was what he had always wanted, what he had wished for every Christmas, since he'd been small and realized there was no love to be found with the Dursleys.

He had come to believe it was a forlorn hope.

He glanced down at the sleeping Snape and whispered, "I don't want to push you into anything."

"Oh, Harry! Don't you know by now that no one ever pushes Severus Snape into anything he doesn't want?" Dumbledore said, putting an arm about the boy and hugging him. "Not even me."

"Then . . .do you think he'll want me?"

"That, Harry, is something only Severus can answer. But if I had to guess, I would say he would not mind being your guardian. You are the one person he's allowed himself to be close to since your mother died. And if he didn't desire a relationship with you, it never would have happened. So don't give up hope." He ruffled the boy's hair. "Now then, why don't you change into pajamas and take a nap? All this excitement has probably made you quite tired, hmm?"

Harry nodded, only then feeling weariness sweep through him. Suddenly, the hospital cot next to Snape was looking very good. He quickly drew the curtains round it and changed his clothes. Then he lay down on the bed, telling himself he was only going to take a short nap. He wasn't really that tired, all he'd done was brew a potion, after all . . .

A minute later, the Headmaster heard a soft snore coming from behind the curtain. When he drew it back, he saw Harry sprawled across the bed, snoring away. Albus gently tucked him in as well. Ah, my boys. I hope that all will work out for the both of you. You need one another so much. Pleasant dreams.

He tiptoed out of the infirmary, retiring to his tower room, where he brewed a cup of tea and ate some crumpets with Seville orange marmalade and proceeded to relate what had occurred to his phoenix, who nipped Dumbledore sharply for not awakening him from his nap so he could speak with the Wise One.

"Really, Fawkes, there's no need to get in a snit." Albus scolded, rubbing his stinging ear. "I'm sure the Wise One will be around here often, since here is where her new apprentices are. You may speak with her then."

The phoenix gave a sort of trill, then stole a piece of crumpet and ate it.

Albus rolled his eyes and muttered, "Familiars!"

"How very astute of you," drawled the Potions Master, sarcasm dripping from his words like poison. 

"Now, Severus.  There's no need to be so sharp. I made a mistake, a particularly bad one, but it was not intentional. I do not want to see Harry go the way of Tom, and end up in an orphan home.  But there is no one else I would trust to protect him and guide him other than you."

"Me? Albus, you don't know what you're saying. Potter would never agree to it.  He barely respects me as a teacher. Merlin only knows what he would make of me as his guardian."

"Severus, I believe that Harry has grown to care for you, hard as that will seem to believe.  You are the one adult he trusts to understand what happened to him and to help him past his fears.  The question is, are you willing to care about Harry?"

Severus was silent for a long while, mulling over the Headmaster's words.  Ever since he had saved Harry's life and tended to him in the cave, he found his feelings had altered significantly towards James and Lily's son.  It had been easy for him to see only arrogant troublemaker James Potter in the son, to continue to nurse a grudge towards the boy because the father was no longer available.  But somewhere in the dark of that long winter's night, Severus had opened his eyes and seen the true Harry Potter.  Just a boy, who had been maligned and mistreated by those who should have loved him.  It reminded him painfully of his own childhood.  He didn't know if he could be what Harry needed.  But Albus was right.  The boy needed constant supervision and protection.  If he did not give it, who would?

"All right, Albus.  If the Dursleys agree to relinquish Potter's guardianship to me, and we document it as such for the Ministry, I shall bring the matter up with the boy.  I will not have a child in my home that resents me or is not willing to agree to my authority. He needs to agree to this. I shall do my best to give him a home and a family.  But only if he so wishes."

"Of course, Severus.  Now then, I am going to see if Harry is awake and once he has eaten, we can head over to Surrey."

Severus bared his teeth in a cold smile.  "Good. It's about time I paid a visit to my old neighbor, Petunia."

Albus bit back a chuckle.  He knew it wasn't nice to gloat, but he was certain that Petunia would be shocked when her old neighbor showed up on her doorstep, and if he were completely honest, he was looking forward to the confrontation.

SWSWSWSWSW

Petunia was busily decorating the banister of the staircase with a large swag of holly, ivy, and pine trimmed with small brass bells and velvet red bows, she had always loved the fresh smell of the greenery and this tradition harked back to her childhood, when she and Lily used to twine the festive boughs along the banister and mantel of their home on Spinner's End.

A large Scotch pine was situated in the den, decorated with many hand-blown glass balls and glittery ribbons, underneath it was a beautiful quilted tree skirt with embroidered redbirds and pinecones on it, made by Petunia's mother. Soon it would be covered by mounds of gifts for Dudley, but as yet, Petunia hadn't gotten around to putting them under it. 

Once she had secured the bough, Petunia stepped back and admired it.  It was quite beautiful and she smiled, pleased with her handiwork.  Then she went and began to gather up the presents for her darling baby boy, who would be coming home from Smeltings tomorrow, which was Christmas Eve. She could hardly wait to see Dudley again, and hoped they were feeding him right at that school.   She finished arranging the presents under the tree, then checked her watch. Vernon would be home in about four hours. 

As she admired the tree and the presents artfully wrapped beneath, she thought about what a relief it was that her freak nephew was going to be staying at that school again for the holiday season.  It was where he belonged and not here, mucking up her holiday with his freaky displays of magic.  And that way she needn't get him a token gift. Or worry about her dessert magically flying through the air and smashing upon a guest's head.  For once, things would be normal around her house. 

She had just turned to go into the kitchen to check upon her baking mince pies when the doorbell rang.   She hurried to answer it, hoping it was the delivery of poinsettias from the flower shoppe for the front entry.

Instead, she opened it to find her unwanted nephew upon the front porch along with an old man wearing a vibrant purple pantsuit and a paisley tie and a tall lean man in black trousers and a dark green pullover wearing a familiar sneer upon his face. 

"Happy Christmas, Aunt Petunia," Harry greeted her, flashing her a fake smile.

Petunia put her hand on her heart and frowned angrily. "What are you doing here, boy? They kick you out of that school already? Figures!"

"On the contrary, Mrs. Dursley," corrected Dumbledore.  He put a hand upon Harry's shoulder.  "Harry here is one of our brightest students."

A snort of disbelief came from Snape, who remained silent for now, eyeing Petunia with scorn.  As if she cared, Albus! Humph! Potter could be one of the best students . . .if he applied himself.  He has the potential magically and the brains, just not the discipline.  But that shall change when and if he becomes my ward.

Petunia lifted an eyebrow in disbelief.  Then she stepped back to allow them entry, not wanting the neighbors to see and speculate about her odd visitors.  Once the door was safely closed, she looked them up and down and said coldly, "Why are you here then? Thought you were spending the holidays at that school, boy?"

Harry stiffened.  "I will be, Aunt Petunia. But Professor Dumbledore and Professor Snape wanted to speak with you first."

"Dumbledore?" she repeated suspiciously. "You're the one who left him on the doorstep, aren't you?"

Dumbledore nodded.  "I am. As your sister's only living relative, you had an obligation to take in your orphaned nephew."

"Obligation indeed!" sniffed the haughty blond woman. Then, recalling her manners, she invited them to sit down and have a cup of tea and some biscuits, which they all refused.  "What would you know about obligations, old man?"

"As much as you do about avoiding them, Petunia," Severus interjected, and there was cold disdain in his tone. 

"You!" she spat suddenly, whirling upon the other wizard, her blue eyes flashing.  "You're a fine one to talk, Snape! It was because of you that my sister walked the path to her own destruction."

"I have no idea what you are talking about," replied Severus, startled at her accusation.

"Don't you?" purred the other venomously.  "You were the one who told her about magic and encouraged her to use her freaky powers. If it hadn't been for you, she would have stopped using them and become a normal girl. It's your fault, Snape, that she became a . . .witch!" Petunia practically spat the last word, and in her mouth it sounded like an epithet, something foul and dirty.

Snape's eyes flashed.  "Lily was a normal girl, Petunia! Using magic is like breathing for one of us.  She couldn't have stopped if she had wanted to, and why would she?"

"Don't lie, Snape! You corrupted her with all your talk of magic school and potions and crazy creatures! My sister was a regular child until she met you. After that she was never the same! She went away to that place and when she came home she bewitched my parents."

"Bewitched your parents?" Severus sneered. "Mind telling me how she did that when there are rules about underage wizards using magic outside of school?"

Petunia shrugged. "Lily could get away with anything when she chose, and my parents worshipped her, she could do no wrong in their eyes.  They used to disapprove of her freaky outbursts as a child, until she met you and they spoke to your crazy mum-"

"My mother was not crazy, and you will mind your tongue when you speak of her, am I clear?" Snape snarled and suddenly his wand was in his hand.

Petunia squeaked and almost fell off her chair. Her eyes were wide with horror. "You wouldn't dare!"

Snape bared his teeth in a silent snarl. "Try me."

She shrank back in the chair and looked at Dumbledore pleadingly. "Don't let him hurt me, sir!"

Dumbledore gave her a beatific smile. "Have no fear, Petunia. Severus shall not hurt you."

"He did when we were children! He made a branch fall on my head!"

"That was accidental magic. And it served you right for spying," interjected Severus.  "Always trying to play the pity card, aren't you, Petunia?"

Harry couldn't help it. He giggled, for he would have dearly loved to see that.  He was shocked that his aunt still remembered Severus and apparently hated him as much as she did Harry, maybe even more. He had not thought there was anyone she hated more than him.

Petunia snapped her head around. "Think it's funny, do you?  You and he are the same, vicious nasty freaks who belong locked up!"

Severus' eyes narrowed. He had enough sparring with the bitter woman. It was time to get down to business.  "Locked up? Like the way you lock up your nephew in the cupboard under the stairs?" he inquired smoothly.

"What? How did-he has Dudley's second bedroom now!" Petunia sputtered.

"A second bedroom?" Dumbledore inquired. "I didn't know you needed more than one."

"Dudley's like two people," Harry interjected, saying what he had longed to say for years about his spoiled rotten cousin.

Petunia gasped.  "How dare you talk about my Dudders that way, boy?"

Harry shrugged. "Because it's the truth."

"So you did keep your nephew in a broom cupboard?" Snape pressed, his eyes burning like two hot coals, boring into Petunia like hot pokers. 

"Best place for a freak like him!" snapped Petunia. "Out of my way and invisible, just the way we liked it."

Harry flinched, even though he had always known none of his relatives gave a damn about him, it still hurt to hear Petunia speak about him with such derision. 

"And how long did that go on?" demanded Snape. 

"Since I was little, it was only after the letters came that I was allowed to go upstairs and sleep," Harry told him quietly.

Now Dumbledore's eyes flashed.  "Why would you treat your nephew so cruelly? He was a helpless baby when I gave him to you to raise.  Your only living relative, the last bit of your sister you had.  How could you do such a thing to your own flesh and blood?"

"I never wanted to keep him!" she cried.  "You just assumed I would take him in.  I never wanted to raise another magical freak like Lily! After she married another of her kind, all I wanted was to get away from her and live a normal life.  A life where brooms didn't fly and sticks didn't shoot curses at you.  And I finally got my wish when I married Vernon and we moved far away from Spinner's End.  Until you left her brat on the stoop and started the whole bloody mess all over again! Well, you might have been able to make me take him in, but nobody said I had to like it! He cost me food and clothing-"

"I paid you a generous stipend for his upkeep, madam," Dumbledore interrupted angrily.  "Enough to feed, clothe, and shelter two boys. So you have nothing to complain of on that score."

Harry blinked. He had never known that.  His uncle had always told him that he had to earn his keep by doing chores around the house.  All the chores.

"What did you do with the money, Petunia?" asked Severus.  "Spend it all on yourselves? For it's a sure thing you never spent any on Harry. He came to school lacking the most basic necessities-such as a coat, boots, and gloves!"

She glared right back at him.  "I was told the school provided for its students."

"An extra set of robes or the occasional hat, but most parents make certain that their child has decent clothing for all seasons.  Of course, you wouldn't have done so, because you'd prefer to forget he ever existed once he steps out of the door, right?"

"He's a menace! He caused my husband to lose a very important account because he dropped my strawberry trifle on Mrs. Mason's head!"

"I told you, Aunt Petunia, that wasn't me, it was Dobby!" Harry protested. Would she never forget about that bloody cake? It wasn't like Dobby had dropped a dungbomb on the woman's head, after all.

"Still lying, are you? There, you see what I have to put up with?  He's a no good brat, just like his mo-"

Snape flicked his wand at her.

Her lips blew up to twice their size, until she looked like the freak she had called Lily.  She screamed.  "What have you done to me? Ahhh!"

"Silence!" hissed the irate Potions Master, and his wand flicked again.

Petunia's howls cut off abruptly. 

"Much better.  Never speak of Lily with such disrespect in my presence again, am I clear?" he hissed furiously, leaning in until he was nose to nose with her.  "She was worth a hundred of you, Tuney.  She was a brilliant woman, not a freak, and she gave her life to protect her only son.  What have you done for your son except spoil him rotten and allow him to run wild?" He indicated the mounds of presents under the tree.  "Out of all those presents, is there one for your nephew? Yes or no? Nod or shake your head to answer me."

Petunia had a hand on her throat and looked like she were about to faint.  Slowly, she shook her head.

"Not even one gift? Where is your Christmas spirit?" Dumbledore asked, both shocked and angry. 

"Dead and buried," snorted Severus.  "Let me guess. Freaks like us don't deserve presents, right?"

Petunia nodded, making awful grimaces as she tried to speak.

Severus looked at Albus.  "And these are the people you chose to raise Lily's child. A vindictive bitter hag, her pig of a husband," Snape gestured to the pictures on the wall of Vernon and Dudley.  "and their spoilt brat of a son.  Harry, did you ever get any presents for Christmas? Or your birthday?"

"No, sir," said Harry softly. 

"Did you ever ask why?" Dumbledore wanted to know.

"Once.  Uncle Vernon told me Father Christmas doesn't give presents to freaky nephews like me and Aunt Petunia said my birthday wasn't one she wanted to be reminded of, since I was the one who had killed my mum."

Dumbledore shook his head.  "How terrible! I am so sorry, Harry. No one deserves that sort of treatment."

Harry shrugged. "I never knew it was wrong until I started going to primary school and other kids talked about what they got for Christmas and complained about their parents making them pick up their room or take out the trash. Not one of them ever had to clean the whole house or scrub toilets with a toothbrush."

"Did you receive an allowance for your work?" asked Dumbledore.

Harry shook his head.  "Never."

"How about your cousin?"

"He never did anything. Except make a mess."

Dumbledore frowned sternly at Petunia. "Was that how your parents treated you and your sister?"

Petunia started to nod, but Snape's warning glare and wand movement made her reconsider and she shook her head instead.

"Then why do it to Harry? Was it out of some kind of jealousy, some attempt to get even with Lily now that she was gone?"

Petunia remained still, glaring at Albus half-defiantly.  Think what you will, she seemed to imply.

"Come, Harry. I wish you to show me about the house." Dumbledore was on his feet, and Harry followed suit. "Where is this cupboard you mentioned?"

"Over here, sir," Harry led the way to the broom cupboard, which was just off the den. 

Petunia began making sudden motions with her hands and sending Albus pleading looks with her eyes, obviously not wanting to be alone with Severus.

Albus pretended not to see and left the room with Harry in tow.

No sooner had they done so, then Snape loomed over her, his fury now showing upon his face.  He braced himself upon the arms of her chair and looked directly into her eyes. "Coward!" he hissed softly.  "You're lucky that Lily isn't here right now, she would skin you for what you've done to her son.  Treated him like a servant and worse, neglecting and starving him! Oh, yes, I know all about it, Petunia! You can hide nothing from me, your mind is like an open book."

She gulped and buried her face in her hands, her shoulders shaking.

Snape was unmoved. "Spare me the crocodile tears.  You never shed a tear over Lily's grave and you never will.  You are cold and selfish and unfit to take care of a stuffed dog, let alone a child.  But you were also clever. You made sure he never revealed anything amiss at home.  You taught him well the dangers of doing so.  But now the cat's out of the bag.  You are condemned by your own words and actions.  And soon everyone will know what a harridan you are and you shall never be able to hold your head up again.  People will point at you in the street and whisper behind their hands about you and your despicable husband and child.  Everyone will know your secret shame and how you lied to make yourself look good.  Everyone."

Petunia was shaking her head frantically, tears trickling from her eyes.

"Oh, yes.  Because I shall make sure of it.  You will be a pariah in society, Tuney, and every decent woman will shut their doors when they see you coming. Who knows, there may be an official inquiry and you may even go to jail." Severus said, totally enjoying watching her squirm.  "And all of that lovely money will be gone too.  Sad, isn't it? When all you had to do was to treat your nephew like one of the family and make him happy. In a year, you'll probably be begging on the street. No more fine house, or designer clothes, or jewelry." Snape hissed.  "What goes around comes around, Petunia."  He waved his wand in a complex pattern and mumbled something under his breath.

Petunia threw herself at his feet, begging him wordlessly to remove the "curse" he had put on her and her family. 

Snape's lip curled.  "You have no one to blame but yourself. Now get up and quit drooling all over my boots, woman!"  What he had cast had not been a real spell, but he had taken pains to send anonymous tips to the both Muggle and wizarding newspapers and the authorities, and pictures would be sent also as soon as Albus finished taking them.  That plus a taped confession, carefully edited for the Muggles, from Petunia's own lips, Albus had the tiny recorder in his pocket, plus Harry's signed confession of abuse, should be enough to put the Dursleys away by both Muggle and wizarding law for a long time.  All of the rest was but a self-fulfilling prophecy.

Petunia was pointing to Dudley now, in the picture hanging on the wall opposite, and looking frantic.

"What shall happen to your son?" Severus interpreted. "Why, he shall either be sent to another relative or end up in a foster home, where one can hope he is treated decently, and not like the way you treated your nephew.  But anything can happen, especially to the son of child abusers. As for Harry, he shall come and live with me, as my ward and apprentice, and have the life he should have from the beginning."

Severus spun on his heel, seeing that Harry and Albus were standing in the doorway.  "Have a Happy Christmas, Petunia!" he called mockingly over his shoulder. 

Albus cancelled the spell on her just as they were walking out the door. 

Petunia ran screaming after them.  "No-o-o! You can't do this to me! Take it off, Snape! Take it off! Please! For Lily's sake!"

Severus whirled on her. "Since when did you ever do anything for Lily's sake! If it were totally up to me, I'd see you rot in hell first! Count your blessings, Tuney, that Dumbledore has more mercy than I.  Good day, my lady termagant." He made one quick motion with his wand, casting silently. Dumbledore had had his way in one respect, but Severus was a Slytherin and had his own brand of justice. With that, he shut the door in her face and stalked down the steps to rejoin his two companions.

"What did you do to her, sir?" asked Harry wonderingly.  "Did you really curse her?"

"I gave her exactly what she deserved.  All of them. You need never return here again, Harry."

They all walked down the street to a large tree, which would hide them from view, so they could Apparate to the Ministry. 

Dumbledore patted Harry on the shoulder comfortingly.  "I am sorry you had to hear all that, my boy.  I never would have believed it though, if I hadn't heard and seen it with my own eyes.  Had I known what they would do . . .can you ever forgive me?"

Harry looked up at the remorseful old wizard and whispered, "Yes, sir. It wasn't your fault that they . . .hated me. They're just like that." He bit his lip. He wasn't really surprised by anything Petunia had said. He had known long ago that she detested him.  And yet . . .for some reason hearing the words made him feel sick. He swallowed hard.  "What . . .what will happen to me now? Will I stay at the school?"

"No, for the school is not adequate enough to protect you," Dumbledore informed him quietly.  "You see, one of the reasons I wished you to stay with your aunt was because of the spell your mother cast on you just before she was killed. Her love was a powerful protection and through her blood tie to Petunia I was able to cast special wards about the house here.  But they have begun to fail, since you never really considered this house a home or the Dursleys your family.  The wards about Hogwarts are powerful, but even they can be breached. Therefore it's not safe for you to stay there the year round."

"Oh. But then . . . where will I go?" Harry asked, not daring to look Snape in the eye. 

Severus cleared his throat, then said, "You may, if you wish, come and stay with me.  I have a small residence in the city of York, about ten miles from the town where I grew up, it is hidden among Muggles, because it is the last place a wizard would think to look.  The wards upon it are multi-dimensional and layered and they have never been penetrated."

Harry's eyes widened.  "You mean, you live like a Muggle?"

"Some of the time, yes.  No one in the Muggle world knows me by my true name.  There, I am called Richard Savoy, and if you choose to come live with me, you would be my nephew, Harry Savoy.  Once the papers from the Ministry are witnessed and signed, you would be my ward and I your legal guardian, responsible for you till you come of age at seventeen.  If you choose to, that is."

Harry stared at the elder wizard, trying to figure out if Snape had offered out of duty or if he truly wanted Harry to be a part of his life.  "What about you? Do you want me to live with you? Or are you just offering because you're supposed to protect me?"

Severus looked down at the small wizard and felt a sudden burst of compassion and affection for the boy.  It was then that Harry reminded Severus the most of Lily.  He put his hands lightly on Harry's shoulders.  "I would never have offered you my home if I didn't want you, Harry. The Wise One was right. You and I are meant to be together, as mentor and apprentice, and guardian and ward. You need never worry that I shall behave like the Dursleys.  They might have thought you were worthless, but that is because they are the biggest imbeciles ever to walk the earth. To me, you're worth more than my life.  I know that I am not the easiest person to live with, but I will try and be more . . .sociable and tolerant and we shall make rules both of us can live with. Is that acceptable for you?"

Slowly, Harry nodded.  He knew that Snape would keep his word once he gave it.  "If you're sure?" he asked once more, just to be certain.

Severus nearly rolled his eyes. What more proof did the child need? Just then he recalled the first time he had boarded the  Hogwarts Express and his mother had hugged him goodbye.  It had made him feel warm and cherished. Hugs had been few and far between in his childhood and perhaps that was why he recalled that time so vividly.  He suspected the same was true of the twelve-year-old before him.  Still, he would try.

Awkwardly, he drew the boy close, all the while expecting Harry to pull away.

But Harry allowed Snape's arms to hold him and suddenly he returned the hug, squeezing the professor tight about the middle and burying his face in Snape's pullover.  Harry had never really been hugged either and at first he had been startled when Snape's arms had come about him, but then he felt a rush of gratitude and happiness so great that he could find no words to express it. So he hugged Severus back.

The two remained that way for a few moments, comforting and being comforted.

Then Severus whispered, "Does that answer your question?"

Harry smirked up at him. "Yes. Thank you, sir."

"No, Harry." Severus said, a crooked smile quirking up his mouth.  "Thank you."

He darted a look at Dumbledore, who was wearing an utterly ridiculous grin.  "What are you looking at, old man?" he scowled.   "Have you never seen a guardian hug his child before?"

Dumbledore simply laughed.  "Of course, Severus. Come along, there us much to do before supper time."

Severus released Harry, who then took Dumbledore's arm, since the old man was better at Sidelong Apparition than Snape was.  So Dumbledore had been right after all.  Harry did want him.  It was a heady feeling, being needed and wanted.  Severus just hoped he would grow used to it.

Dumbledore and Harry Apparated away in a flash of bluish light.

Severus glanced once over his shoulder at Privet Drive before following. On his face was a sly grin. He wondered how long it would take the Dursleys to realize that they now appeared as loathsome on the outside as they did on the inside, and they smelled worse than a manure pile in the heat of July.  It was a small bit of revenge, but Snape knew it would drive the vain, class-conscious, arrogant Dursleys insane, since the spell was not visible to the victim's eye.  For you, Harry. And for Lily too.

An instant later, the space behind the tree was empty, and the only sound that could be heard was the wind and a woman simultaneously cursing and sobbing.    

Icefyre had not followed a magical blood trail for centuries. He had been trapped in the Chamber of Secrets, shut in there as much for his own protection as for the students of Hogwarts. Salazar had known that there was much mistrust between some of the students, especially the Gryffindor Muggleborns, and the basilisk. Despite attempts by several of the staff to channel their instinctive dislike and distrust of snakes into a positive tolerance of Slytherin and his familiar, many of the young Muggleborns clung to their childhood fears and teachings that snakes were evil incarnate and the only good snake was a dead one. By extension, Salazar and his family were evil as well, since they actually communicated with the monstrous serpent and revered it. Some of the bolder students had taken to taunting and casting irritating hexes upon Icefyre, most of which bounced off the basilisk, but it was the intent that mattered more than the fact that they did Icefyre real harm. So, for the sake of all concerned, Salazar had opted to shut his familiar within the chamber, which only he could open, until he had returned from his mission.

Except, as fate would have it, he never returned.

And the basilisk remained trapped until Voldemort opened the chamber and released it for a time.

To hunt and destroy innocent children.

It was the one thing that Icefyre would never forgive the one who had styled himself "The Heir of Slytherin".

Icefyre was no one's pawn, and he resented mightily the arrogance of Tom Riddle in thinking he was a mere dumb beast to be used as a tool to kill whomever he wished. As Salazar's familiar, and a thinking creature in his own right, Icefyre had often discussed magical theories and opinions with his master. He had served as a liaison between the wizards and the colony of basilisks that lived in the forest, and among his own kind he was known as "Slytherin's Voice". But after Salazar's death and Icefyre's imprisonment, the truce between wizard and basilisk deteriorated. Wizards forgot that the basilisks had once been allies and attacked and hunted them, labeling them "dangerous creatures", and intent on exterminating them. The basilisks fought, but in the end sheer numbers prevailed, and they were driven out of the forest. Centuries later, there were no basilisks left in close proximity of Hogwarts, save one.

And in his loneliness and isolation he was easy prey for one as manipulative and devious as Voldemort.

But now that Icefyre had been made aware of how he had been used, he would be on his guard and wary at any attempt by Voldemort to convince him to kill anyone. Matter of fact, the only thing Icefyre wanted dead right then was one interfering deceitful dark wizard.

As the gigantic serpent slithered along, guided by his magical link to Slytherin's blood heirs, he recalled with a pang how Salazar used to read aloud to him on windy cold nights, discussing many things, while he relaxed upon the hearth, allowing the fire's warmth to penetrate his skin. How he had loved Salazar's voice—deep and resonant, with perfectly enunciated consonants and vowels, but with a slightly musical air to it—there was no other voice like it and Icefyre never tired of listening to it. Salazar could speak several languages in addition to Parsetongue, they included Norman French, English, Italian, and Welsh. During those cozy winter nights, Icefyre learned to understand them, though he could not speak them.

Salazar's children, all of whom had inherited the ability to talk to snakes, usually preferred speaking Parseltongue or Norman French, which was the language of the nobility, and which they had grown up speaking, due to their mother, Isabeau, a fine Norman lady and earth witch. Icefyre had protected and guarded them since their birth, they had taken their first unsteady steps across the room to touch his glistening scales, and he had taught them their first lisping words of Parseltongue. Since he had eschewed a mate, Salazar's family became his own, and he had loved the young Slytherins and Isabeau fiercely.

But then Isabeau had died suddenly and Salazar's children grew up and left home, until Salazar had only Icefyre and his close friends Godric Gryffindor, Helga Hufflepuff, and Rowena Ravenclaw to rely on. And his students, most of whom distrusted him because he spoke fluent Parseltongue and had a basilisk familiar. The world had changed during the century when Salazar and the basilisk had raised the children, lived and loved and laughed in the castle Salazar had built with the help of the other three Founders. And the changes were not for the better, at least for the basilisks. Or those who championed them. Respect for the serpents and their wisdom had declined and was soon forgotten altogether, as new thinking replaced old tolerances, and the wise serpent became a symbol of evil. The world was suddenly no longer a safe place for a basilisk, even one such as Icefyre.

Icefyre let out a long sigh. I remember the days gone by and yet long for them. But they shall never come again and I must deal with today. I shall not forget, but I must remember my mission—to bring the traitor heir to justice. A final justice, as is meet for those who betray their heritage.

Onward he went, following the long cold trail through the forest and to the foot of a small mountain range, many miles from the castle.

It was a desolate sweep of land, broken only by the occasional scrubby trees and brush, and the howl of the wind. Snow lay deeply over everything, making the abandoned crofter's hut seem like a burial mound, complete with flickering corpselight. The basilisk drifted closer, hissing softly as he smelled the familiar tang of serpent-tinged magic. As he had told Severus and Harry yesterday, his bond with those of Salazar's bloodline had led him unerringly to this spot.

But the wizard known as Voldemort was not alone. Two others were with him . . . no, three . . . he had almost missed one scent because it was so very faint. The faint scent was that of a child, which was most odd, since the basilisk was certain Voldemort had no scrap of kindness or love for children. Icefyre drew near the hut, a flimsy thing made of wood and thatch, redolent with the smell of sheep and woodsmoke, old blood, and dark magic. He cocked his head, pondering the best way to go about confronting the dark wizard, and listened to the conversation between Salazar's corrupt heir and his lackeys.

" . . . thought you'd died in Azkaban years ago!" exclaimed a woman's soft voice.

"If I had, I wouldn't have been able to free you, now would I, Bella?" said a man's more gruff tones. "I escaped Azkaban thanks to my dear old mum, who agreed to substitute herself for me using Polyjuice Potion, she died soon after, making those in charge believe that I was dead too. Much the same as they will think of you once they find you tomorrow morning, all stiff and cold."

Bellatrix giggled, a high-pitched insane sound. "Such a clever boy, aren't you, Barty? The illusion charm on the corpse is the perfect touch!"

"I know. And now my father will lie with my mother, or at least in the same place. Very fitting!" chuckled Barty Crouch Jr. "Serves him right for keeping me prisoner all those years under the Imperius. Goodbye, Daddy Dearest! And good riddance!"

"How did you manage to shake off the curse, pet?" asked Bella.

"Father started becoming lax, convinced that I was half-mad and obedient to his whim. He allowed our house elf, Winky, to watch me on occasion while he went out. I convinced her to lighten the curse, house elves are quite powerful when they wish to be, although their slave-like devotion can become tiresome. Still, Winky was quite useful. Once my mind wasn't totally clouded by my father's spell, I could throw off the curse and I was waiting when he came home. Ah, sweet revenge! As soon as I freed myself, I used the Mark to make contact with the Master."

"Then I told him what he should do to bring me back from the spirit realm." Spoke an even deeper voice.

That voice Icefyre knew, he had heard it last a week ago, urging him to hunt and kill Muggleborns. The basilisk hissed in hatred and spoke the word to retract the hood, allowing his eyes with their deadly gaze to see once more.

Through the broken window, he saw a tall woman wearing a ragged cloak and a black dress that reached to her knees, just brushing the tops of her cracked leather boots. Her hair was a wild black bush, falling down her shoulders in a tumbled mass of curls. Her dark eyes glowed with repressed madness.

She was leaning against a broken table. Seated next to her was a lanky man in his late twenties with sharp features and limp hair of a nondescript blond-brown. He was wearing gray trousers and a button-down shirt and a thick sheepskin coat. His blue eyes shone with a fanatic's fervor as he looked upon the third player in this gathering of evil.

The Dark Lord, for so his followers called him, looked no older than twenty-five, a tall well-built youth with dark hair cropped short and piercing brown eyes, wearing a long robe of black satin triple-lined with green felt, trimmed with sable. But his complexion was an odd waxy color, and when he moved, it was strange, jerky and stiff, as if his body had forgotten how to work. Voldemort gave Bella a thin smile, then went on. "I taught him how to cast the Morte Restorare spell, once he had secured a dead body, and then he reanimated the corpse and I entered it. At first, I was weakened, but once he fetched my special diary along with the girl who found it, I began to gain strength. Soon, once I have absorbed all of her magical life force, I shall be myself once again, as I was before Potter caused the spell to backlash." He flicked a glance at the room's other occupant.

A redhaired girl of about eleven was lying on a faded blue plain blanket. Her eyes were closed and she seemed to be asleep. She was wearing jeans and a pink pullover with a G inside a heart. Resting atop her was a simple black leather journal.

Voldemort's eyes roamed over her greedily and he licked his lips. "So simple, to abduct her from her blood traitor family. They were shopping, a family outing at Diagon Alley, buying some last minute Christmas presents when Barty snatched her."

Barty grinned. "I but live to serve, Master. Taking the girl was easy as stealing a mince tart off a windowsill. I even got a chance to knock out her idiot brother, the one who trains dragons. Would have killed him but I had to get the girl away before the Aurors came. Next time, though, I shan't hold back."

Voldemort reached over and gave the other a friendly smack on the shoulder. "In an hour or so, she shall cease to breathe, and I will have the strength necessary to anchor myself permanently in this body. Then I shall be reborn anew and we can begin the campaign to take over the Ministry."

Icefyre reared back, snarling a curse in Parseltongue. The traitor must not be allowed to go through with his plans. He betrayed all that Salazar and his children believed in, and Icefyre was ashamed that he had ever been taken in by the other's lies. Cheating death by sacrificing a child! Abomination! One way or another, this ends tonight.

Icefyre curled up, preparing to strike, and then heard a soft hissing query coming from the other side of the hut. He whipped his head about and saw a very large cobra slithering towards him, plainly returning from a hunt to judge from her distended stomach.

**Great One, what do you do here? Have you come to see my master, Voldemort? I give you fair greetings. I am Nagini.**

**Greetings as well, Nagini. Yes-s-s, I am here to sssee your master. You are his familiar?**

**I am,** she declared proudly, drawing herself up.

If snakes could frown, Icefyre would have done so. He did not want to battle the cobra, but sensed that if he attacked her wizard, she would come to his defense. Unless he could persuade her otherwise. **Are you aware, s-s-sister-in-s-scales, that your master uses dark magic this night to preserve his own soul? Does it not bother you?**

**Why s-s-should it? Those he s-s-slays are his enemies and deserve death.** the cobra answered indifferently.

**He s-s-seeks to s-s-slay a child!** Icefyre pointed out sharply. **You do not think killing innocents is wrong?**

Nagini seemed unruffled. **Humans! They've killed enough of s-s-serpent kind over the years. What's one less human child in the world? That one's family has other offspring.**

**Can one child replace another? Would you not grieve if you lost a hatchling, even if you had another?**

**That is different. What does one human matter to you, Great One? You eat them.**

**No! S-s-some of my kin do, but not I. I used to dwell with human wizards. If your master kills the child, he will bring down the wrath of the Ministry.**

**He cares not. He s-s-shall crush the Ministry,** laughed the cobra. **You shall s-s-see.** With that, she slithered inside the croft, and began telling Voldemort about the basilisk outside.

Icefyre shook his head. Poor blind little snakeling! She refused to see that it mattered when a wizard, even one such as Voldemort, began breaking the laws. So be it. She had cast her lot with darkness, and if she attempted to stand against him, he would kill her.

A moment later, the rickety door to the croft banged open and Voldemort strode outside, wearing mirrored glasses. He gazed up at the gigantic serpent and laughed softly. "We meet again, old friend! Do you remember me? I spoke to you not so long ago. Have you come to join me?" he inquired in Parseltongue.

**I remember you well, Tom Riddle! You deceived me, told me that Salazar would have wanted me to hunt and kill children!**

Voldemort looked puzzled. "But of course he would have! He believed in the supremacy of the pureblood, as I do. I am Slytherin's Heir, it is right that you help me hunt down my enemies and purge the school of undesirable elements."

Icefyre shook his head angrily. **No! You are very mistaken. Salazar did not believe that pureblood was better and he never would have countenanced the harming of a child. You lied to me! You played upon my grief and used me as a pawn. But no longer! I am no plaything of dark magic. You are a false heir, for none who use dark magic may inherit Slytherin's title!**

"What do you mean? I am the heir! I am Salazar's direct descendant through his son, Alexander. I am the last living Parselmouth of pure descent. You cannot deny me!" cried Voldemort angrily.

**Wrong! Yes-s-s, you are S-salazar's blood, but you are not the only one. There are two others who bear his blood also, and they are better candidates than you!**

"Who?"

**Harry Potter and Severus-s-s S-S-Snape! They do not traffic in forbidden magics! They did not attempt to trick me into hurting children! Faugh! You stink of blood and death! Your legacy of destruction is none of mine!**

Voldemort backed up, bringing up his wand. "My legacy is power, and if you join me, you shall share it. Don't and you shall join your old master in his grave."

**So be it!** Icefyre cried, then he roared and struck at Voldemort.

Voldemort Apparated in the nick of time.

Icefyre got a face full of snow and snarled, spinning about.

The dark wizard reappeared to the left side of the hut. "Crouch, Bellatrix, Nagini, to me!"

Upon hearing their master's cry, the two wizards and the cobra shot out of the house.

"'Ware the eyes!" Voldemort called, too late.

Crouch, first to step out of the door, wand out, met the glittering crimson eyed stare.

He just barely had time to scream before he was petrified.

Crouch toppled over into the snow, stiff as a popsicle.

Bella was more wary, keeping a hand in front of her face while she strutted out. "My lord, what's going on? Are we under attack?"

"In a manner of speaking! Kill the basilisk!" Voldemort shouted, casting a fiery curse at Icefyre.

Icefyre shot to one side, unbelievably fast for something so huge and the spell fizzled into the snow.

Bellatrix screamed with laughter and started to cast the Killing Curse.

That spell Icefyre knew as well and he used every bit of his superior speed to snatch Bellatrix up in his great jaws and bite down hard.

Bellatrix was cut off in mid-word.

Crunch! Snap!

Icefyre shook his head and spat, no way would he eat such tainted flesh.

Blood stained the snow and Voldemort growled in fury.

"Blasted viper! You just cost me two valuable followers!"

Icefyre swung his head about, just as Nagini darted in and took a bite out of him.

Or tried.

Icefyre's scales were like iron and they blunted her fangs. She struck again and again, hissing in outrage, to no avail.

The basilisk ignored her the way a human might a buzzing mosquito. Instead he focused upon the true object of his ire. Since his gaze would not affect the other wizard, Icefyre had to rely upon his lightning quick strike and fangs.

But Voldemort was not defeated so easily. He cast a spell that created doubles of himself and all of them attacked the basilisk. He then Apparated back into the croft and snatched up the limp form of Ginny Weasley and the diary. He placed the tip of his wand at her throat and sneered, "Come and get me now, O Great One! Strike and I shall send a bolt of magic through her that will kill as surely as the Killing Curse."

Icefyre's head smashed through the wall when he heard Voldemort's taunt. Eyes burning, fangs glistening with venom, the basilisk was fit to kill. But he halted an inch from Voldemort upon seeing the hostage he held.

**Coward! Set the girl down and face me!**

"Why? Even in death she serves me well." Mocked Voldemort. One hand caressed Ginny's cheek and he whispered, "Awake, my sweet, and taste the nectar of pure fear."

Ginny opened her eyes, saw the gigantic snake looming above her, and began to scream hysterically.

Voldemort smiled and began to drink in her terror and magic, sucking it away with his touch. His body began to shimmer with eldritch light as he used her lifeforce to grant him the power to destroy the basilisk.

Ginny began to struggle, screaming in agony, writhing against him.

The diary which she had been clutching fell to the ground.

Nagini spotted it and darted forward. She knew the diary was Very Important to her master.

She had just closed her fangs about it and whirled to flee when Icefyre lashed out with his tail and swatted her to the ground, pinning her easily.

**Not so fast, little cousin!**

Nagini writhed but could not break free.

Voldemort raised his fist, crackling with purple lightning. He flung it at Icefyre.

It struck the basilisk and the great serpent howled as the magic burned him. Shaking his head to clear it, he cried, **Release the girl!**

"With pleasure!" Voldemort smirked and began to drain Ginny's life away even faster.

"Ginny!" screamed Charlie, swooping down upon a Welsh green. "Leave my sister alone, damn you!" He fired off a Blasting Curse, thinking the basilisk was somehow involved in Voldemort's evil scheme.

A large mound of snow began to slide down towards Icefyre and Voldemort.

Voldemort glanced upwards, grinning like a maniac.

Icefyre saw his chance.

Like a bolt from above, the basilisk struck.

He coiled part of his length about the dark wizard, lifting him up and piercing the back of Voldemort's shoulder with a fang.

Voldemort let out a wail of horror, knowing he was dead inside of a minute, no matter how much power he stole from his unwilling captive. "Nagini!" he hissed to the snake. "Take the diary and flee!" He had not seen that Nagini was pinned by Icefyre's tail on the opposite side.

Icefyre roared in pleasure as the false heir died.

Until the avalanche smashed into him, half-burying him.

"Ginny!" Charlie cried again, landing the dragon and going to dig out his sister. He was unsure exactly what he had just seen, it had looked like Voldemort was fighting a basilisk, but then the basilisk had attacked his sister. Using magic, he dug through the snow and found his baby sister, limp and shaking in shock.

Cradling her in his arms, he lifted her free of her snowy bed. "It's okay, Gin. I've got you." He started to run towards his dragon, wondering why his sister did not wake.

Dazed and confused, Icefyre shook off the snow and stuck his head out. The diary! He had to find it and destroy it. But where was Nagini?

He peered back towards his tail and saw a black and gold snake streaking towards the woods, a small book in her mouth.

Icefyre darted forward, measuring a third of his length as he pursued the cobra.

Charlie yelped as a great green and black length suddenly rose up before him, blocking his path. Gaping, he saw the basilisk chasing something through the snow.

A moment later he saw the basilisk's head dip, biting down upon something and then swallowing it.

Frightened, Charlie halted, still hugging Ginny and wondering how the hell he was going to get out of this mess alive with a hungry basilisk on the loose.

To his astonishment, the basilisk dipped its head again, seizing something in its jaws. Then it turned . . .

Charlie ducked his head, expecting to be petrified.

When nothing happened a few moments later, he dared to peek between two fingers.

The basilisk swayed before him, holding a small black book impaled upon its fangs, and the head was hooded.

"Well, I'll be! Bloody hell!"

As he watched, the book began to crumble and smoke, releasing a terrible stench into the air, until it became dust.

Icefyre spat, shaking his head to clear it.

Charlie gulped. "Uh . . .mind if I take my sister away?"

In his arms, Ginny stirred and groaned.

"Charlie? Oh, Charlie!" she moaned and began to cry.

"Shhh1 It's okay. I've got you." He soothed, hugging her.

Icefyre dipped his head and inhaled the girl's scent. She was weak but she would live. He drew back, slithering off to the side so Charlie could put Ginny on the Welsh green, who was sniffing the snow where Voldemort's body was lying.

Icefyre hissed, **Take her home, boy. She'll need lots of rest and potions, but she'll recover.** Then he darted a look at the dragon, who was just lifting Voldemort's borrowed body from the snow. **If I were you, cousin, I wouldn't eat that.** he warned. **You might die of poison or at the least give yourself several nights worth of indigestion.**

The dragon snorted, but then set the body down at his Keeper's command.

Charlie, now mounted behind Ginny, tapped the dragon's shoulder with his Keeper's baton and cried, "Burn it, Flamestrike!"

The Welsh green inhaled and then exhaled, and dragonfire shot out of his jaws and burned Voldemort's body to ash.

Charlie patted the dragon's neck. "Good job! One less Death Eater in the world." He slowly turned and looked at the basilisk. "If I didn't know better, I'd say you were . . . protecting my sister."

Icefyre bobbed his head in answer.

Charlie's eyes nearly bugged out. "I don't believe it! You're . . .communicating with me?"

Another nod.

"Merlin's ghost! So you weren't going to . . .eat Ginny?"

Icefyre shook his head negatively.

"I've never heard of a basilisk saving a person before. Or wearing a hood. Incredible! I was always taught that basilisks lived to hunt and kill everything. But I guess I was wrong, huh?"

Icefyre hissed in Parseltongue, **Very much so, young dragon tamer. Bring your sister home, with my blessing! Go!**

"I'll take that as a yes. And . . .thank you." He bowed to the basilisk. "If I hadn't seen it with my own two eyes . . .wait till I tell Mum and Dad and everybody!" he muttered, then tapped Flamestrike twice on the shoulder with his baton, signaling the Welsh green to ascend.

As the dragon took off with its passengers, Icefyre watched until they were out of sight. His mission was finished, and the false Heir of Slytherin gone from the earth forever. The basilisk still did not understand what significance the diary had, but the mere fact that Voldemort considered it important had been reason enough to destroy it. He regretted having to kill Nagini, but like her master, she had chosen her path long ago. Besides, he had been hungry.

Icefyre turned and made his way down towards the school, leaving the remains of Bellatrix LeStrange and Barty Crouch junior scattered about in the snow, where they would soon be buried beneath yet another winter blizzard. The only sign to mark their passing was a few wisps of reddish snow and flecks of ash drifting upon the wind.

Harry sat bolt upright upon the soft gray suede couch, groping frantically for his glasses before recalling they were atop his head. He had been too lazy to set them upon the low table and had instead shoved them on his head when his eyes began to close reading his new Charms book.

It was Christmas Eve, and Harry had worked all that day brewing a special potion as a gift for his new guardian in the Wise One's cave. Because Severus had made a condition that Harry not leave the castle alone, the great ruffed serpent had come and carried him to her home upon her back. Once the potion was finished, she had returned him to Hogwarts, giving him two parcels as well. **Remember, you must not open these until tomorrow,** she had instructed. **A joyous Yuletide to you, Harry!**

He had also wished her a happy Christmas, tucking the two small wrapped presents into his pocket. They now rested beneath the huge tree in the Great Hall, which was where Dumbledore insisted they come to celebrate Christmas. Harry and Severus would have been perfectly content to celebrate Christmas morning in Severus' cozy set of rooms, but the Headmaster insisted they not "hide themselves away like hermits", but allow themselves to experience the joys of the season out in the open.

Severus had rolled his eyes, he had never been one for ostentatious displays, then muttered to his ward, "Fine. We'll humor the old man. Thank Merlin the only staff members present are Trelawney and me, and Hagrid. They might serve to keep the old fox in check."

Harry merely smiled quietly. "I wonder if there will be twenty five turkeys at the feast, like last time?"

"I would hope not. There are only nine of us in the castle, how could we possibly eat that much food? It would be a massive waste, unless we delivered it to some homeless shelter. Two turkeys or a turkey and a ham would be plenty." Snape groused, for he abhorred wasting food.

Harry shared that sentiment, he had spent too many years watching Dudley and Vernon make gluttonous pigs of themselves to ever condone such excess. After he had signed the required papers at Ministry Children and Youth permitting Snape to become his legal guardian, which had occurred as soon as the social witch had seen all the evidence that the Dursleys were no fit people to have guardianship of Harry, they had gone to lunch and then back to Hogwarts. Normally, the process would have taken much longer, a week at least, but Dumbledore had used his presence to speed up the process. So, here he was, on Christmas Eve, the legal ward of one Severus T. Snape, and glad of it.

That had been yesterday. Harry had gone caroling at Hogsmeade with the two elder Ravenclaws and Hannah Abbot and Hubert Walters, both Hufflepuffs. It had been a fun outing and they had been given warm hot cocoa and spiced apple cider, as well as candy canes, butter toffee, and strawberry taffy from the establishments they visited. Harry had been shy at first, having never sang anything, but the four other students were accomplished carolers and Harry soon lost his shyness when he discovered that Hannah, usually a quiet girl, could sing brilliantly. And if Hannah could do it, then so could he. To his surprise, he had a decent voice, nothing earthshattering, but good enough not to frighten dogs, cats, and toddlers. There was much laughing and joking among the four students, and Harry enjoyed their company very much.

But after returning to the school, and brewing all afternoon with the Wise One, Harry had been tired. Ever since Snape had become his guardian, he had started sleeping in the Potion Master's quarters. Severus had promised he would create a bedroom for Harry if he wished, which he could use during breaks or on weekends, but he should spend the rest of the school year in Gryffindor Tower. "I wouldn't want rumors to get started that I favor you or anything."

"You? Favor me?" Harry smirked. "Never happen. You'll probably be on my arse even more now that I'm your ward, right?"

Severus had arched an eyebrow. "If need be. I don't tolerate students who don't work up to their potential. And you, Mr. Potter, are quite capable of earning E's and above in all subjects, including Potions and History of Magic. And if you don't, I'll know the reason why."

Harry had promised to try and study more and come for extra instruction if he needed it. Severus in his turn had promised to look over Harry's homework and essays and offer advice and assistance as needed.

To Harry's surprise, Snape had few rules he wanted Harry to follow. One was, of course, to achieve good marks in school. The others were to always inform Severus if he were going off the grounds and to ask permission before doing so, to obey school rules and not go wandering about at night, to never put himself in harm's way, try and respect his guardian, and to come to him if he had a problem with anything.

"What if I have a problem with you?" Harry had asked cheekily, then he waited for Snape to bite his head off.

"Then I would hope you will inform me about it and we can discuss it and find a solution." Snape replied. "I am aware that you were never allowed to express a difference of opinion in your aunt's home, but that is not the case with me. You are allowed to disagree with me, but do so in a mature manner—slamming doors and throwing things or screaming at me will not be tolerated, I don't care how unfair you think I am being. Also, know that if you ever raise a wand to me, that wand will be taken from you, and not returned until you learn both discipline and restraint. Even if it takes years, so do not test me."

Harry's eyes boggled. "Raise a wand to you? Sir, I'd never . . .!"

"I have seen a few adolescents in my time as a teacher do such to their parent during a meeting, and I am giving you fair warning never to attempt it . . .or else!"

Harry agreed, shivering a little at the other's warning glare. "I'm not stupid, you know. I want to live till I'm twenty."

"Good. You have more brains than most Gryffindors I know." Severus said. Including your father, he added silently.

Severus and he had also discussed consequences for rule breaking, Harry was surprised that Snape could be so reasonable, handing out groundings and revoking privileges instead of turning him into potion ingredients or giving him a thrashing and said so.

The Potions Master had snorted. "Really, boy, any potion that had a piece of you in it would be highly unstable and explosive, guaranteed to give the imbiber the worst case of the runs in history. I have no desire to see my license revoked and be accused of poisoning, so you can stop that line of thought right now. As for a thrashing, my tongue is more efficient by far than a strap, and I have found a stinging conscience lingers longer than a stinging backside. I am not my father."

"No, sir." Harry said, and thanked his lucky stars. He then resolved to try and stay on Snape's good side, because he didn't want his guardian to regret taking him in. "I'll try and behave."

"That is all I ask of you. I would like us to have a cordial relationship, contrary to popular belief, I do not enjoy strife between myself and students, and even less so in my private life. I believe that you deserve a place to call home, one that you enjoy returning to, and will try my best to give you that. I know that I cannot replace your parents, but shall strive to be there to guide you as best I can."

"I know." Harry said softly. "I trust you."

That earned him a rare smile of approval from Severus.

Dumbledore was happy that his two boys seemed to be getting along, and quietly remorseful since learning the truth about Harry's life with the Dursleys. He was also determined that Vernon and Petunia pay the price for their cruelty, and made a vow to himself to make sure they were punished according to Muggle law. He was not yet aware of Severus' curse upon them, but since it was fitting, he probably would not have objected to it.

Now Harry woke from his nap and sat up, feeling a certain presence that had been absent from the castle return. "Icefyre's back!"

Severus looked up from where he was seated in his recliner, perusing a suspense novel. "Excuse me?"

"Icefyre's back! Can't you feel him?"

Severus cleared his mind and then he felt the unmistakable presence of the basilisk. It thrummed through his blood, sending an unobtrusive quiver through him. "How strange. I have never felt that before."

"Probably because you didn't know him then," Harry said. "This is the first time I've felt it too. It makes me all tingly."

Severus nodded, he could relate to that intimately. He rose to his feet. "Let us go out and greet him and see what news he bears."

"Do you think he . . .found You-Know-Who?"

"We shall find out."

Icefyre met them in the Entrance Hall, and told them of his triumph. He also mentioned how Voldemort had a hostage and had been using her to siphon off magic and ensure that he would remain among the living. He also told them about her rescue by her older brother, a dragon tamer and his dragon. **I believe she called him Charlie. At first he was afraid of me, but I managed to communicate a bit with him, and he accepted me then. Quite smart for a non-Parselmouth.**

"Uh, Icefyre, did Charlie have red hair? Did his sister? Was her name Ginny, by any chance?" Harry asked.

**Yes. They were red-furred and that was her name.**

"Those were Ron's brother and sister!" Harry exclaimed. "Why was V-Voldemort hurting her? How much magic could she give him?"

"It might not have just been her magic he was after. He often chose victims who were young and innocent, it gave him pleasure to despoil them in any way possible," Severus said shortly. "You are certain he is dead?"

**Indeed. I bit him. My venom kills in under a minute, dark magic or no dark magic. There is no antidote save phoenix tears or the countervenom of the ruffed serpent. Riddle had neither. He is dead and gone, and I destroyed his magic book also.**

"Magic book?" Harry asked.

Icefyre told him about the diary and how Riddle's last request had been for his familiar to save it. But he had eaten Nagini and destroyed the diary, so that was a moot point now.

Severus was not so sure. "The diary might have been more than just a journal. It's being destroyed is good, but . . .we may not have seen the last of Voldemort. I need to talk to Albus about this. And also send a letter to the Weasleys. I need to know how Ginevra got her hands upon such a thing. Having such an item in her possession too long could have caused her harm."

"What kind of harm?" Harry asked worriedly.

"Dark objects corrupt, and they almost always leave a taint behind for those who use them. If so, then she ought to go to St. Mungos and get a cleansing ritual performed by the Healers. Otherwise, she will be vulnerable to influences by dark magic," Severus explained.

**That is so,** agreed Icefyre. **S-Salazar would have s-s-said ssso himself. But why do you believe Riddle is not truly dead?**

Severus sighed. Merlin save him from too curious serpents and apprentices! "Because he has a history of cheating death. I shall return." He quickly spoke the password to revolving staircase and disappeared up it.

**I need to hunt, serpent's child,** Icefyre said then. **Hunt and sssleep. S-s-slaying those pieces of offal was pleasant, but exhausting. Fare you well for now, Harry, and a joyous Yule to you!**

Harry said goodbye to Icefyre then he raced upstairs to his room in Gryffindor Tower to write Ron a letter.

SWSWSWSW

"It may be possible that there are more remaining, Severus," Dumbledore conceded after hearing what his colleague had to say about Voldemort and his allies' demise.

"But you don't think so," Severus surmised. "Why not?"

"Because it takes a great deal of energy to create such a thing as a Horcrux. I think Tom only created three or four of them, and two I have already found and destroyed. The diary was another, I have no doubt of it, and I believe Nagini was the fourth. All are now destroyed."

"And if you are wrong?"

Dumbledore sighed. "There is that possibility. One can never truly be certain about anything. In any case, there is no way to know unless he returns someday. Given what Icefyre did, I would say that would not happen anytime soon. Thank goodness for Icefyre and Charlie, otherwise poor Ginny would have been lost to us. I did not expect him to move so quickly. Hopefully, Ginny has sustained no lasting harm. I shall write to Molly and Arthur in the morning. All we can do now is prepare for the worst and hope for the best. In the meantime, why don't you enjoy your first Christmas with Harry?"

Severus acquiesced. "Very well. I have no desire to go hunting Horcruxes that might not exist." Although he wondered if Icefyre could help with that particular quest. The basilisk seemed unusually attuned to such objects. He rose. "I shall see you tomorrow morning, Albus."

"Of course! Be sure to be awake bright and early, mustn't keep poor Harry waiting. I do hope he enjoys my gift." Albus said, looking much like an overeager child himself.

Severus looked wary. "What did you get him? A chocolate gift basket from Honeydukes?"

Albus laughed. "Why, no. That's what I got you!"

Snape did a doubletake. "Albus, you are . . . incorrigible!"

"Come now, Severus! You enjoy chocolate, admit it!"

"Humph!" was all Snape answered. Albus was forever trying to make up for his lost childhood. He meant well, Snape supposed. And though he would rather have been boiled in his own cauldron, he had to admit to himself that he did enjoy Honeydukes chocolate . . . in moderation. The gift basket would last him several months.

Snape headed down to his quarters, planning on having a quiet supper with his ward and then reading till bedtime. His new Ken Follett novel was gripping and he was eager to see how it ended.

SWSWSWSW

Christmas morning arrived, and Harry woke at his customary time of seven in the morning, he had trained himself to wake up then because the Dursleys always wanted their breakfast at eight and he needed that long to get everything prepared, since Vernon and Dudley were such milch cows and ate more than three grown men.

To his surprise, he found several packages at the foot of his bed, delivered in the middle of the night by owl post. He quickly tore into them, they were from Ron, Hermione, and the Weasleys. He received a new agenda book and a Quidditch stat book from Hermione, Ron gave him a Chudley Cannons poster and a bar of chocolate, and Mrs. Weasley had knitted him a scarf of red and gold and sent her delicious mince pies and raspberry Linzer tarts. Harry wound the scarf about his neck and crammed a tart in his mouth, savoring the flaky pastry and sweet filling. Mmmm!

Hedwig blinked sleepily as he gave her the special Christmas treat of a dead rat baby. He had picked it up during his visit to Diagon Alley after the visit to the Dursleys. She hooted softly and took her treat and flew out of Snape's quarters to the owlery, where she could eat in peace.

"Happy Christmas, Hedwig!"

Harry then crept out of Snape's quarters, still in his pajamas and slippers, new ones of soft ice blue flannel that Snape had purchased for him on that same visit, assuming that the professor was sleeping in, and made his way up to the tree in the Great Hall. He carried Dumbledore's present tucked under one arm, having inexpertly wrapped it with some spare newsprint last night. He hoped Dumbledore would like it.

When he opened the door to the hall, he was expecting to find it empty. Instead he found Dumbledore and Snape sitting about the tree, in green and red plaid covered easy chairs, Dumbledore was wearing a rainbow dressing gown and a cap that looked like a reject from Dicken's A Christmas Carol. Severus was more reserved, dressed in a quilted deep green robe and leather slippers, his hair pulled back. The two were quietly sipping some Holiday Spice tea and Dumbledore was munching some sugared biscuits from the plate next to him, which was hovering in the air.

The tree was sparkling with colored lights and contained several packages beneath it, some of which were gifts from Harry, and others that he didn't recognize. He also spotted one of his striped socks, which was the only pair he owned that weren't with holes, bulging with something.

He was so startled at seeing the two professors awake before him that he remained gaping in the doorway like a halfwit until Dumbledore spotted him over the rim of his teacup. "Good morning, Harry! Merry Christmas to you! Come on over here, my boy!"

"Yes, and do shut the door behind you, the castle is chilly enough as it is," Severus ordered a tad grumpily.

"Yes, sir," Harry mumbled, and shut the door promptly.

"Don't mind Severus, Harry. He's never bearable until he's had his morning cuppa," Dumbledore said, and received a sharp glare in return from the Potions Master.

But then Snape cleared his throat and said, "We can't all be bouncing with joy every minute, Albus. Merry Christmas, Harry."

"Merry Christmas, Headmaster." Harry answered, coming over to stand between them. "Merry Christmas, professor."

He looked over at the tree and then back at the two wizards, still clutching Dumbledore's gift.

Severus' mouth twitched at the way Harry pleaded silently with just his eyes to be allowed to dive beneath the tree for his presents. It reminded him poignantly of himself at that age, who had this one day to look forward to all year, a day where he would get a decent breakfast and one or two small gifts. "I was going to insist you eat breakfast first, but Dumbledore said that would be cruel to make you wait and risk choking to death rushing, so . . .go and open your gifts."

Harry beamed at him. But he didn't rush over to the tree. "I will, sir! But first, I'd like to give you my gifts."

He moved over and handed Dumbledore his present. Then he reached beneath the tree and found the small box for Severus, as well as the Wise One's gifts. He carefully removed the one for Severus and brought them over to his guardian.

"For you, sir. This one's from me and the other is from the Wise One."

"Thank you, Harry." Severus took the gifts and held them.

Harry eyed both men, puzzled. "Aren't you going to open them?"

"First, you open yours," Dumbledore urged.

Harry hesitated for a single instant, then he allowed himself to behave like the child he still was, and ran over to the tree and found several with his name on it, plus a large gift basket wrapped in red cellophane with a big red bow on it for Severus. He picked up the basket and brought it to the Potions Master. "Oof! It's heavy. Here's another one for you, sir."

Severus eyed the basket with resignation, muttering, "A red velvet bow? For Merlin's sake, Albus!"

Harry concealed a snicker. Only Dumbledore would dare give the Head of Slytherin a present with a red velvet bow and not risk getting hexed six ways to Sunday.

He looked about for a place to sit and just as he was about to sit on the floor, he heard a pop and a green velvet hassock appeared. Harry sat, perring over his shoulder to see Snape tuck his wand away and make an impatient gesture.

"Go on then, Harry. Most children your age would have been on their third or fourth gift by now." Severus frowned slightly, something only now occurring to him. "Is this the first time you've ever received gifts on Christmas?" Knowing the beastly Dursleys, Severus would have bet a silver cauldron that was so.

"No. Only the second. Last year was the first. Sorry." Harry said, then began to tear off the paper of his first gift.

"Don't apologize," his guardian said, castigating himself inwardly for making the boy's Christmas morning uncomfortable. "I shouldn't be rushing you."

Harry had opened Dumbledore's gift first. It was a large box of Zonkos joke products. "Wow!" He cried, examining all the interesting things inside. "This is so wicked! Thanks!"

"You are most welcome, Harry," Dumbledore said, his eyes twinkling brightly.

Severus bit back a groan. Trust Albus to encourage pranks! "If he wasn't my employer, I'd accidentally strangle him with his bloody red velvet bow!" the Potions Master growled under his breath. "Using any of those products in class, mine or any other professors, will be grounds for detention and confiscation, Mr. Potter. Am I clear?"

"Yes, sir." Harry said quickly. "Can I use them outside of class? Like on weekends?"

"That would be acceptable."

Harry set the gift aside and prepared to open another.

Dumbledore unwrapped his gift and smiled. "Matching socks! How marvelous!" He held up a pair of red and white candy cane striped socks with red pom poms on the toes.

"I'm glad you like them, sir. I remember you telling me once you always wanted socks for a present," Harry said.

"They are splendid. I shall wear them today. Thank you, Harry."

Harry opened his gift from the Wise One next. Inside the soft leather pouch was a vial of a familiar liquid and another of shed snake scales. "Snake's milk and scales!" Harry exclaimed. He knew how rare those ingredients were and was profoundly touched by the ruffed serpent's gift.

"I have received the same," Severus announced as he opened his own gift. "I must remember to thank her. These ingredients are worth their weight in Galleons."

Harry slowly peeled off the paper from Severus' gift, the first of three. It was a black suede coat, lined with golden fleece. The coat came down to Harry's ankles and had deep pockets and a collar that could be turned up to protect one's throat and mouth. It was the finest coat Harry had even seen, much less owned. His eyes went wide as he stroked the soft lining.

"It has charms on it for warmth and is water repellent," Severus said quickly. "I figured you needed one after your impromptu walk in the woods." He coughed and thought of how stupid he sounded. Perhaps he'd been wrong to get such a practical gift for the boy. Children his age usually didn't appreciate clothing.

Harry looked up then, and his smile was pure delight, banishing Severus' fear. "It's an awesome coat. The best ever!" He hugged it to him. He didn't say it was also the first one ever, but he knew Snape understood. The coat was wonderful, but what it signified was even more wonderful. It meant that Severus truly cared about him.

Harry opened the next boxes, which were a pair of gloves and boots to match, each of them spelled and lined with golden fleece.

"Now you're all set to go and play in the snow," Albus pointed out. "What a fine gift! You chose well, Severus!"

The Potions Master flushed at the other's effusive praise. "Do you like them, Harry?"

Harry looked up from trying on his new boots and nodded enthusiastically. "They're perfect. No more frostbite."

"So long as you remember to put them on," chided his guardian, but he was not really scolding.

"I won't forget," laughed his new charge. He opened his stocking next, it was filled with Seville oranges, chocolate, salted cashews, new quills and ink, and a book lined in snakeskin.

When Harry opened it, he discovered it was Salazar's journal.

"You're . . . giving me Slytherin's journal?" he managed to say, staring down at the priceless book. "But . . . this is . . . it belongs to you . . . you're the heir . . ." He found himself blinking back tears. He knew what this book meant to Snape.

"So are you, Harry," Severus said quietly. "I gave you this so you could understand more about your heritage, for only through understanding can we achieve peace between serpent and wizard. I have read it in its entirety and memorized most of the contents. It has given me great insight into Salazar and his times, he was much misunderstood and this cleared up a great many misconceptions. I hope you will find it both interesting and useful."

"Thank you!" Harry said sincerely, and then brushed his sleeve quickly across his eyes. He would treat the book like the treasure trove of knowledge it was.

Dumbledore had opened his present from Snape. "Rainbow flavored lollypops!" he cried. "Now how did you know I wanted to try these?" When you licked one, it tasted like one flavor, lick it again, and the flavor changed, and so did the color. One lollypop tasted like strawberry, orange, lemon, blue raspberry, lime, and grape.

"It was the only candy in Honeydukes you didn't have samples of," answered the Potions Master wryly.

In addition to the lollypops there were also lemon drops, bubble gum, and an appointment calendar that reminded one of important dates written on it. "Splendid! Now I can remember my appointments with the Minister and the Board of Governors." He began licking a lolly.

Now it was Harry's turn to be on tenterhooks while Snape opened his gift.

Snape examined the potion carefully after withdrawing it from the box. He carefully removed the stopper and smelled it, nodded, and replaced it. "Magna Mythos."

"Is it . . .all right, sir?" Harry asked diffidently.

Snape raised both eyebrows. "Did you brew this yourself?"

"Umm . . .the Wise One helped."

"Even so . . . this proves that you have all the skill your mother did and then some. Do you know what Magna Mythos does?"

"Umm . . .the Wise One said it means great magic and that it enhances a wizard's natural magical ability for a time."

"That's basically true, but it is also much more. If I drank this, my ability to brew the most complex potion would be trebled, I could cast spells that would normally drain me to exhaustion, and read any spellbook in any language. For a day and a half. Then it would wear off. It is one of the most potent and difficult potions to brew, and its use is strictly monitored by the Ministry."

Harry's face fell. "I didn't know that. Does it mean you can't use it?"

"No. Only that I must have a damn good reason to do so. Thank you, Harry." Severus tucked away the vial.

Harry still looked upset. "I wanted to give you something different, something perfect . . .I didn't realize you couldn't use it whenever you wanted . . ."

Severus carefully set the box down and beckoned to Harry. "Come here." When Harry was standing before him, he tipped the boy's head up with a finger. "Look at me. That you managed to brew this at all is a great accomplishment. You should be proud of yourself. No other second-year could have done it, Wise One or no Wise One. The reason this potion is restricted is because it can be easy to misuse. I understand that and will save it until it is truly needed. You are your mother's son, and I am proud to teach you the potion maker's art. As for the perfect gift . . .do you not know you have given me something this Christmas even better than this potion?"

"I have? Like what?"

"Yourself. As my ward, you gave me a family, which was the one thing I never truly had growing up, and always wanted, but never had. Your mother was my friend, and later I had colleagues, but never family to celebrate the season with. I told myself it didn't matter, I had always been alone, many people were. But I was fooling myself. Christmas has always been about family, and that was something I would never have. Until now. When you agreed to become my ward, you gave me the perfect gift. Now stop worrying, it's Christmas and you ought to be happy."

And suddenly Harry was, filled with so much happiness and love that he could only express it one way.

He hugged Severus, throwing his skinny arms about the tall man and burying his face in the green robe.

For an instant, Snape froze. Little boys did not hug him. Ever. Except this one did. It was confusing and exhilarating at the same time. It took him another instant before he responded, putting his arms about Harry and drawing the boy on his lap. He didn't say anything, simply hugged his newfound son.

They remained that way for a long time, until Albus coughed and Severus looked up to see the Headmaster blowing his nose with a lemon colored hanky. Only then did the two recall they had an audience and quickly drew apart, blushing.

"Come, it's time we ate something," Severus said, rising quickly and blinking.

They made their way to high table, and soon the other four students, Trelawney, and Hagrid had meandered in. Everyone ate breakfast together, having whatever they liked best, and the owls delivered the morning paper and Harry received a letter from Ron, delivered by batty old Errol, who ended up face-first in a milk pitcher, but the letter was intact.

There were gasps from Hannah and Justin and Selina and Mark as they read the front page article in the Prophet, which was about the kidnapping of Ginny Weasley by Death Eaters, and her rescue by her brother Charlie, dragon tamer, and a giant snake that Charlie swore was a basilisk. Girl Kidnapped by Death Eaters, Rescued By Brother and Unknown Giant Serpent! The headline screamed.

"A basilisk?" Justin looked skeptical. "He had to have seen wrong. Basilisks kill people."

"And eat them," added Mark.

"Basilisks hate wizards," Hannah said softly.

Harry looked over at Severus, wondering if he ought to say something to defend Icefyre.

But Snape put a finger to his lips. Not yet. Wait.

Harry turned back to his letter from Ron.

Dear Harry,

I still can't believe what happened to my sister and our family, even though I was right there when we were attacked. It all happened so quickly, we were all caught off guard. I mean, who expects to be attacked by a crazy Death Eater in broad daylight in Diagon Alley? Not me!

The bloke came out of nowhere, we were coming out of Gladrags, Mum had just bought us new Christmas shirts, it was early, hardly anybody was on the street then. He just appeared, and started hexing us, he was bloody fast and then he grabbed Gin. She started screaming and he knocked her out with a spell.

Poor Ginny! We're not even sure why she was taken, and thank goodness Charlie was able to keep his head after Mum released him from the Stunning Spell. He cast a tracking spell and summoned his Welsh green, Flamestrike, that he'd trained from a hatchling and flew off after the scummy bastard.

We were all in shock, Dad had gotten knocked down and had a bump on the head, and Mum was crying. Fred and George were arguing about who it was that had taken her and trying to comfort mum at the same time. I didn't know what to do, I was sort of numb and dazed, like I'd been belted with a Bludger.

By the time we all started thinking again, about forty minutes had passed. Mum insisted the rest of us go back to the Burrow with her, while Dad went to the Magical Law Enforcement to report Ginny's kidnapping. By the time he finished explaining and filling out stupid forms and an Auror team had been sent out, Charlie was back with Ginny. Made those Aurors look bloody dumb, I can tell you.

Of course, everyone wanted to interview them or get statements, Dad just kept muttering thank Merlin and hugging Ginny. We took her to the hospital to make sure she was all right, and the Healers said she was fine, except for being scared. But she'll probably have nightmares about it for months.

The press was totally shocked when Charlie told them about the basilisk who'd fought and killed the Death Eaters, they kept asking him if he was sure that's what it was. I don't think they believed him, even though he swore it was true. I believe him, my brother doesn't lie and he knows his magical beasts.

But it's pretty hard to believe, since basilisks are considered monsters and all. Still, I'm so glad this one wasn't.

They were even more shocked when Ginny claimed she'd been kidnapped by You-Know-Who himself! They thought she was going crazy, until she agreed to give her memories to the Aurors to view. Apparently, she'd come out of the spell and pretended to be sleeping while they had her, and she heard everything they said before the basilisk came. Not only was You-Know-Who there, but so were Bellatrix LeStrange and Barty Crouch junior! Talk about coming back from the dead!

Charlie and Ginny both swore that everyone died on that mountaintop, but some Aurors will be sent to investigate, Charlie's gonna take them over there. Don't know what they think they're gonna find though. Charlie said there's not much left.

Mum got a letter from Snape telling her she ought to have Ginny checked out for dark magic influences, since she was carrying a diary that belonged to Riddle. Mum said she would, especially since Ginny told her about the way the diary talked to her. Creepy! And why Snape would care about my sister is beyond me, but Mum was really happy the greasy git told her that.

You'll probably read about the kidnapping in the paper today, and once they decide Old Snake Face is really dead, they'll run an article about that too.

Hope you're having a good holiday. Thanks for the book about the Cannons, mate.

Ron

Harry wondered how long it would take people before they believed the truth. If they ever did. One thing he did know . . . when his friends returned from break, he was going to tell them about his ability to speak Parseltongue and Snape's guardianship at the very least. If he asked Icefyre for permission, he might even tell them about the basilisk and Slytherin's true heirs. Their reactions were sure to be classic ones.

After breakfast, Harry felt like going outside. Now that he had warm winter wear he could do so and not worry about freezing to death. He helped Hannah and Serina build a snowman, and then they teamed up and challenged Mark and Justin to a snowball fight.

When they were tired and shivering, they all trooped back into the castle for some warming hot cocoa and treats. Harry read Slytherin's journal in Snape's quarters until supper, then they all returned to the Great Hall, where a lavish feast had been prepared.

They opened Christmas crackers. Harry got a gold Galleon in his cracker. Trelawney got a silk head scarf from Damascus. Hagrid got a peanut. Dumbledore got a rubber chicken and Severus a hat with reindeer antlers that had colored lights that blinked.

Everyone giggled and Dumbledore smiled and said, "Oh my! Severus, you must put it on!"

"I will not," growled the embarrassed wizard. "It's ridiculous."

"Severus, it's Christmas. Have a little fun!"

After a bit more persuasion, a scowling Severus put on the hat.

All the students, even Harry, smiled at the sight of their serious professor wearing reindeer antlers that blinked and glowed. It was sight that had to be seen to be believed.

There were two turkeys, a honey-glazed spiral ham, and a large rack of lamb with mint jelly. There were mashed potatoes and rice, several kinds of vegetables, buttery rolls, a green salad, and cinnamon apples. Harry ate till he could hold no more, and then he waited until the desserts were brought out. There were cakes and pies, candy and trifle, anything you could think of. Harry nibbled a bit of everything, until Severus hissed under his breath in Parseltongue to stop before he made himself sick.

Harry obeyed, having no wish to ruin his very special Christmas by being a pig.

Later on, Harry and Severus went to see the Wise One, to thank her for her gifts. As they walked through the snow, Harry wearing his new gifts, Severus kept looking at him surreptitiously. The boy seemed to be enjoying the outing, skipping across the snow, not minding the occasional drifts.

"Are you warm enough, Harry?"

His ward turned. "Very warm. I don't feel cold at all."

"Good." Snape said. He strode on ahead of the boy, plowing through the snow determinedly.

Until something stung the back of his head.

He brushed at it with one gloved hand.

Cold snow trickled inside his collar and he shivered. He turned to look at Harry.

The boy was whistling, his hands in his pockets.

Severus scowled, but since he couldn't prove anything, turned around and started walking again.

This time the snowball hit him in the ear.

Snape spun. "What the blazes?"

This time Harry wasn't quick enough. "Oops! I meant to hit the tree."

"Really?" Severus' eyes narrowed.

Harry gave him an innocent look.

Severus frowned. "Next time mind your aim."

Harry smirked behind his gloved hand. Then he scooped up two more handfuls of snow.

But before he could take aim at Snape's back, the wizard vanished.

Harry gazed around. Huh? Where had Snape gone?

An instant later he had his answer, as two strong hands grasped him and mock-snarled, "Impudent brat! Ambush me, will you?"

The next thing Harry knew he was sailing through the air . . . to land face first in a snowbank.

Harry sputtered and gasped, for even his new winter coat didn't protect him enough to avoid getting snow down his neck and in his eyes. He quickly rolled over, brushed off his glasses, and snatched a handful of snow.

He hit Severus square in the face.

Then he got up quickly and ran to hide behind the nearest oak tree.

Once Severus had brushed off the snow, he stalked his wayward ward, growling dire retribution. "When I find you, Potter, you'll be scrubbing cauldrons till your fingers fall off."

"But first you have to find me," taunted the boy, giggling like a drunken imp.

Another snowball flew, but this one missed and only splattered Snape's hem.

"Keep it up and you'll be writing I will not throw snow at my guardian two hundred times with a broken quill."

Snape put a hand behind his back and waited.

Soon Harry peeked his head out, unable to bear the sudden silence.

Snow slammed him in the forehead.

"Five points for Slytherin."

"What? No fair!"

Harry ducked and ran to the next tree. "If I hit you, you'll have to give points to Gryffindor."

"Why?"

"B-because it's only fair!"

"Whoever said life is fair? You started this little snow war."

Harry lobbed a snowball at him. He ducked.

"Yeah, but I can't take points from you."

"Very well. Five points to Gryffindor if you hit me."

Harry whooped. "Agreed!"

He thought it would be easy. But Snape played for keeps.

It took him ten minutes before he finally scored a lucky hit.

Now they were even.

And so it went, all the way to the Wise One's cave, where the final score was tied. Harry was panting, and red-cheeked, but he wasn't cold at all. He was warm, from his nose to his toes, both outside and inside. He grinned cheekily up at his guardian.

"Well?" demanded Snape sternly. "Have you learned your lesson?"

"Today I have."

"Just what is that supposed to mean?"

"Umm . . . it means I have a bad memory and might forget it by tomorrow."

"I see. Then you'll end up getting your face scrubbed with snow again until your memory returns."

"Only if you can catch me."

"None of your cheek, boy," scolded the stern unbending professor. One long fingered hand reached out . . . and tousled the messy mop of wet hair. "Get inside the cave, before you catch your death of cold."

Harry obeyed, though he knew he wouldn't get sick. He was surrounded by warmth, not only from his coat, but also from the family he now had, which consisted of a Potions Master, a lemondrop loving Headmaster, a ruffed serpent, and a basilisk.

As Harry entered the Wise One's cave, he felt his garments start to steam as the very warm air struck them.  It was almost like summertime in there, and Harry quickly felt sweat begin to drip down his forehead, or perhaps it was merely melted snow. He heard a soft slithering noise and then the Wise One's murmur, **Icefyre, we have visitors. I believe it's young Harry and S-S-Severuss.**

A moment later, the great ruffed serpent, she was approximately thirty-five feet in length, appeared from the back of the cave, gliding along serenely to greet her unexpected guests.  **Welcome back, Harry. And S-S-Severus too,** she added as Snape stepped into the cave, stamping snow off his boots.  **To what do I owe the pleasure of this visit?**

"Well, we . . .errr . . .wanted to say thanks for the Christmas presents." Harry spoke in Parseltongue, even though he could have used English and had no fear of being misunderstood.  He preferred the snake's natural tongue, plus it was good for him to practice, since though he could speak it and be understood, he knew his inflection and accent could use some work, the Wise One had told him so.

The Wise One dipped her head in acknowledgement.  **I am always happy to be appreciated. I hope you may use my scales and venom for a good cause. Come, sit and warm yourselves.  I have increased the heat in here because of my other winter guest.**

Harry and Severus followed her as she slipped back down towards the back of the cave.  "Am I correct in assuming your guest is Icefyre?" asked Snape.

An affirmative hiss tricked from the great snake's throat. 

"Icefyre's staying here?" Harry repeated.  "But why? Why not just come back to the castle?"

**Would you want to return to a place where you were imprisoned for centuries?** demanded the basilisk tetchily.

Harry halted upon seeing the magnificent green and gold serpent stretched out, or nearly so, on the cave floor.  Icefyre was wearing his hood and resting comfortably upon the warmed stones.  "No, sir. I suppose not." He gave the basilisk a bow, half in apology.

Icefyre swung his snout towards Harry and Severus, sniffing lightly.  **You smell of cold and snow. Hssss! S-Serinisssima, come and see, they've been playing about in the snow**

**I can see that,** giggled the Wise One. She extended her tongue a little and sighed.  **Ahh! The cool fresh air! I have to keep the cave warm enough for Icefyre, otherwise he'll go into torper.**

"Serenissima?" Severus arched an eyebrow at the name.

The Wise One looked faintly embarrassed.  **Icefyre is fond of nicknames.**

"It fits you."  Severus said. Serenissima meant "Most Serene" in Italian, and often referred to Venice.

**It is good to see you out and about,** the ruffed serpent stated, looking at both sorcerers fondly.  **The snow is deep and cold, but invigorating, so long as there is shelter nearby.  My cave is always open for you.**

"You are most generous, Revered One," Snape said respectfully.

**Hardly that.  I but do what any teacher would do for her apprentices.  ‘Tis the season of warmth, after all. The warmth of the spirit to brighten the dark and give succor to those who need it most.  Do you not find it so?**

Slowly, Severus nodded.  "Yes, I do. And I thank you.  You saved my life."

**As you saved mine.  You awoke me from my spirit sssleep, and made me live again, reminding me that there were sstill wizards worth my time and willing to learn from me yet in thisss world. That, Potions Master, is a gift beyond price.**

**My cousin is right.  You have ssaved us both, and are S-Slytherin's true heirs. If ever you need me, you may call, and I sshall come.** pledged Icefyre.

And so the bond was reforged among wizard, basilisk, and ruffed serpent once more. 

Both Severus and Harry felt the warm glow of peace and understanding enfold them, and were content.  Now if only the rest of the world could be brought to feel as they did, Icefyre would truly be safe, and so would the Wise One. 

SWSWSWSW

Two days after Christmas, Charlie Weasley and Ron arrived at Hogwarts.  Both brothers were eager to see Harry again and speak with Dumbledore about the basilisk Charlie swore he had seen while rescuing Ginny.  Ron had insisted that a basilisk had been petrifying students in school and couldn't have been anything like the one Charlie thought he'd seen. 

"Maybe it was another kind of snake," Ron insisted.

"Ron, do you think I can't tell a basilisk when I see one?" Charlie had laughed. "Come on, kid, I'm not stupid. I know what I saw. There's no way I could have mistaken a giant green and gold snake that way. It's not a king snake." Once, as a boy, Charlie had mistaken a king snake for its venomous counterpart, a coral snake, and sent the household into a panic before Mr. Weasley got home and showed him the difference between them-a coral snake had red and yellow and black bands side by side, while a king snake had red and black bands side by side and yellow last.

To settle the argument, and to convince the Ministry of the fact that at least one basilisk roamed that was not evil, Charlie opted to go to Hogwarts and see if the Chamber of Secrets basilisk had indeed been released.  Ron wanted to come so he could talk to Harry and prove he was right for once.

Harry was unprepared to see the great green dragon settling down in the courtyard, its massive claws gently scraping the stone.  He gaped as Charlie and Ron dismounted, and Charlie tapped Flamestrike's nose with his Keeper's baton and bid him to stay and wait. The dragon yawned and promptly put its head on its forefeet and dozed. 

"Ron?" Harry called, standing in the doorway.  "What are you doing back so early? Thought you'd get a head start on your classes?"

Ron made a gagging noise. "Blech! You crazy? My last name's not Granger.  How are you, Harry?"

"I'm fine. You?"

"Well enough." He gestured to Charlie. "Harry, this is my brother Charlie. He's the one that's a dragon tamer and works for a reserve in Romania."

"Nice to meet you, Harry." Charlie shook hands with him. He was tall and a bit broad in the shoulders, with close cropped red hair and an open honest face.  "We've come to settle a bit of a disagreement, in a manner of speaking.  You see, Ron here thinks I've lost it, claiming a basilisk helped me rescue my little sister. So we've come here to talk to Dumbledore and ask about the creature locked in the Chamber of Secrets, which my baby brother here insists is a basilisk."

Harry looked at the pair of brothers and said quietly, "You don't need Dumbledore to answer that question."

"Why not?" asked the dragon tamer.

"Because I know the answer." Harry drew in a deep breath.  "You're both right. There was a basilisk in the Chamber of Secrets but it's gone from there now. And there was a basilisk who helped you fight You-Know-Who, Charlie. I know because I've spoken to it. You see, I'm a Parselmouth."

Ron's jaw dropped onto the ground. "You . . . can talk to snakes, Harry? But that's a rare ability one that only Slytherins like You-Know-Who have! How come you never told me before?"

"Because I didn't know what I could do before. I kept hearing a voice inside my head and thought I was going off my rocker. . . " Harry related what had happened to him while they went to Dumbledore's office, Charlie had gotten the password from the Headmaster that morning.

Both of them were stunned at Harry's revelations, Charlie because he'd never even suspected that other wizard was Voldemort, and Ron because suddenly he now had to come to grips with a friend who was a Parselmouth, an apprentice to a ruffed serpent, and the ward of Snape.

"Ronnie, you look like you're about to pass out," Charlie remarked, amused at his brother's expression.

Ron looked as though he'd been poleaxed. 

"Huh? Well, it's not every day that you learn your best mate's a Parselmouth and talks to giant snakes and has Snape the git for a guardian! Bloody hell!"

Harry frowned.  "Snape's not a git, not anymore," he said, feeling compelled to defend the professor.

"Do not bother to defend me, Harry," Snape spoke up from behind them, causing Ron to nearly fall backwards down the stairs. "Mr. Weasley's dislike of me is well known."

Harry looked at his guardian, who had entered the staircase a few minutes later and was now standing behind them.  "I didn't hear you come up, sir," he said, slightly breathless, though by now he ought to be used to Snape's silent comings and goings.

Charlie had raised his hand to knock on the office door when it opened and Dumbledore called, "Come in, everyone!"

They all filed into the office, with Dumbledore beaming enthusiastically at all of them.  "Well, gentlemen, now that we're all here, what would you like to know?"

"How a Gryffindor suddenly turned into Slytherin's Heir," Ron blurted.

"That's easily answered," Dumbledore chuckled. "It has to do with bloodlines.  You see, Harry is descended from Salazar's youngest daughter, Morgana, who married a Muggle man . . ."

Ron listened, shellshocked, as Dumbledore explained about the real Salazar Slytherin, not the bigoted nasty man everyone had always assumed Slytherin was, but a wizard dedicated to justice and keeping his students and children safe at all costs.

"I don't believe it!" Charlie cried.  "All my life, I've been told that Slytherin was the reason why purebloods had such prejudice against Muggleborns, that he was an arrogant, blind fool who broke apart the Founders. And now you expect me to believe that he wasn't?"

"You have seen for yourself that a basilisk-Salazar's familiar-is capable of saving a human life," Severus pointed out.  "Is it so hard to believe that Slytherin was not as history paints him? How much of your life, Weasley, has been shaped by Tom Riddle, and what he stood for? It was he who gave my House the onus of evil, he who dragged Slytherin's name into the mire. Because he fell, and led others down the lefthand path into night, so too did every other member of the House of Serpents, according to popular belief. He marked us with his taint, until now when you see the silver snake, you see evil.  But we have always been more than what he made of us. Ambition to be the best, cunning to navigate the world around us, and the intelligence to live with the choices we make.  Think about it. Is it so bad to strive for greatness? Without it, many things would never have been done, no new spells created, or potions invented. Without ambition to better oneself you're a lump, a blot on society.  Now Riddle took his ambition too far, and used his cunning to deceive and his intelligence to dominate those weaker than himself. But why should the entire House suffer for the ways of one man? Or his followers? Where then is the fairness and justice you Gryffindors preach in that? Long ago, the serpent was revered as a wise teacher, the keeper of ancient ways, not the beast of evil.  That still holds true. And if you doubt me, come and meet the Wise One. She is the last great ruffed serpent in Britain. And she knows more about the magic of healing than any ten of us put together."

"I would like to meet her, sir," Charlie said after pondering the professor's words for a moment. 

"Very well. Then you shall. Follow me."

Charlie did so, and after a moment, so did Ron.

Harry was relieved that Ron was taking the news so calmly. He should have known better.

Snape led the Weasleys to the edge of the forest and told them to wait while he went to speak with the Wise One and Icefyre.  Charlie went to make sure his dragon didn't need food or water and as soon as the adult wizards were out of earshot, Ron rounded upon Harry.

"How could you allow that greasy git to become your guardian, Harry? It's just not right! After everything he did to you at school-"

Harry held up a hand. "Ron, stop and listen to me for a minute -"

But Ron was off on a tirade and didn't want to hear Harry defending their least favorite teacher.  "He's always trying to get you in trouble, always taking points from Gryffindor, always spying on us and making our lives a misery, and all of a sudden you can forget all that and let him take control of your life? Mate, what did he dose you with . . . a Forgetfulness Draft? Or did he cast a Friendship Charm on you? Or wait . . . he Obliviated you, right? Made you forget how much you couldn't stand him, right? Because that's the only reason why I can think of for you to agree to the lunacy of making Snape your guardian! Your parents are probably rolling about in their graves."

"RON!" Harry shouted.  "Will you SHUT UP?"

Ron swallowed back the rest of what he was going to say. Harry was practically drilling a hole in his forehead with the heat of his glare.  "Okay." He said weakly.

Harry drew in a breath. "Don't try and throw my parents at me, that's a low blow.  I don't know what they'd think about me or him, because I never knew them. I only know of them.  And one thing I learned this holiday was that when they were in school, Snape and my mum were friends."

"What? No flaming way!"

"Yes.  They were neighbors too.  So I don't think my mother would mind if Snape was my guardian. I know he was an arse to me during first year, but that was because he thought I was like my father, and they apparently didn't get along at all.  That might not have been fair, but I can live with it, since he saved my life.  And this year, he saved my life twice.  Once when I nearly froze to death during the blizzard and could have died of exposure and frostbite and again when I got a bad fever and chest infection.  And want to know something else, Ron? He did all that when he was sick himself, so sick that he nearly died too."

"Yeah, but you saved him, so you're even. Why make him your guardian?"

Harry ground his teeth together at his friend's obtuseness. "Ron . . . you saw how my relatives treated me . . .they locked me in a room with fifty locks and put bars on my window because of a wrecked cake that I had nothing to do with.  You've seen how hungry I am when I come back from there, I've told you about the cupboard and Dudley and all the chores I do all the time.  You know how they feel about magic and anything associated with it, right?"

"Sure, I know they're cracked and all.  And that aunt of your is just blinking nuts, trying to pretend magic ain't real when her own sister was a witch.  But if you wanted to get away from them, why didn't you just ask me? We would've let you stay at the Burrow . . ."

"Ron, I wouldn't have dreamed of telling anyone what went on there, or of asking anyone's help.  Dumbledore told me I had to stay there and I would have never expected your mum and dad to take on an extra kid, you've got enough of your own. Plus, it's dangerous for me to stay anywhere without wards, because of Voldemort."

"But Harry, the basilisk killed him! So now you could stay at the Burrow! Mum would love to have you, she's really fond of you, you know . . ."

But Harry shook his head. "Ron, I'd love to say yes, but we both know it wouldn't work.  You're my best friend, but I won't risk you getting involved with all the trouble that seems to follow me.  Besides, Snape is . . . he understands me, he knows all about the Dursleys and he can protect me, he's powerful and Dumbledore trusts him the way he does no one else, he's the only one Dumbledore says can keep me safe."

"Oh, that's rich! Keep you safe from what? His old pals, the Death Eaters? Or didn't he ever tell you that he was once one of them? During the First Wizard War, Snape was a Death Eater and almost ended up in Azkaban."

Harry felt as if someone had just stabbed a knife into his chest. It couldn't be true! "No . . . that's not true! Where did you hear that?"

"Everyone knows it.  Why do you think none of my family trusts the bugger? Once a dark wizard, always a dark wizard.  He'll keep you safe all right. Then he'll hand you over to Malfoy and the other Death Eaters."

"No! Ron, he gave his oath that he'd protect me. You don't know what you're talking about!" Harry shouted. Ron had to be wrong. Severus could never have been a dark wizard. Icefyre would have repudiated him, and so would the Wise One. Dumbledore couldn't have trusted a Death Eater, and no evil wizard would have cared so much for Harry as to save his life over and over. "He told off my aunt and got them arrested for child abuse! You're wrong! It's all lies!"

"I'm not lying!" Ron yelled back, his fists clenched. "You just don't want to see the git for what he is.  Why don't you ask him then? Go on! Ask him!"

Harry glared back at him.  "Why do you always assume the worst about Slytherins, Ron? Is it because you can't see past the end of your nose? I'm a Parselmouth, just like Voldemort. And Snape too. Does that make me evil? I like snakes, am I going to become a dark wizard now?"

"Of course not. That's different. The Hat Sorted you into Gryffindor-"

"That's right. It did. But did you know that it wanted to put me in Slytherin? In Snape's House? Yes, that's right! But it didn't. Because I asked it not to. Because you told me that Slytherins were all dark and evil. So it put me in Gryffindor instead."

"What are you saying? That you'd rather be a slimy snake?"

"What if I was? What if I was Sorted into Slytherin? Would you still be my friend, Ron? Or would you turn your back on me and spit on me? Would you still want to be seen with the Boy-Who-Lived if I wore green and silver?"

Ron just gaped at him. "I . . .I . . ."

"What's the matter? Cat got your tongue?" Harry snapped.  "You can't give me a straight answer, now can you? Because you still believe that anyone associated with Slytherin is bad.  You're like all the rest, you see what you want to see, not the truth.  Even when the truth is right in front of you."

"I see that Snape bloody brainwashed you!"

"No, idiot! He saved me! He was the one who convinced Dumbledore to visit my home and see just how my aunt treated me. He was the one who insisted I get help and get out of there, no matter what wards were around there.  And no, Dumbledore didn't tell him to do it. It was his idea. If not for him, I'd still be rotting there over the summer.  He's the reason I'm free of my bloody relatives, and he cares about me.  Whatever he did before doesn't matter. It's what he's done now that counts."

"You're just afraid to ask!" Ron taunted.  He couldn't believe the change in his friend. Since when had Harry become a snake lover?  "One good deed doesn't wipe out what he was before!"

"You don't even know if he really was a Death Eater," Harry growled, incensed.  "You just think so! Where's your proof? You know what your problem is, Ron? You're jealous. You don't want me to like Snape because then you're afraid I won't like you."

"That's ridiculous! I don't want you to like Snape because he's a dark greasy git who only cares about himself."

Harry shook his head.  "You really believe that, don't you?"

"Yes."

"Even after everything I told you, you think I'm an idiot, so desperate to get away from the Dursleys that I'd go with someone who hated me and put myself in a worse prison. Bloody hell! I'm not stupid, Ron! Give me some credit for brains, and for being able to tell good from bad.  The Wise One and Icefyre can both tell dark wizards, there's an aura that they have, and Snape doesn't have it.  He might not be the nicest person, but he's not evil, and I trust him.  And I don't trust many adults, Ron. Now put that in your mouth and chew on it."

And with that, Harry turned and stalked away into the forest, leaving Ron gaping at him. He was so angry that he feared what he might do if he stayed there any longer, and so he left.  He knew he was breaking one of his guardian's rules by wandering off alone, but he had to leave or else risk hurting Ron.

He walked towards the Wise One's cave, expecting at any moment to spot her and Severus coming through the trees.  But to his surprise he didn't encounter them. Instead he found Icefyre, curled up at the entrance, wearing his hood. The basilisk woke as Harry came towards him, feeling him approach because of the vibrations of Harry's footsteps. 

**Harry? Is that you?** Icefyre hissed.

"Yeah, it's me."

**You seem troubled. Anything I can help with?**

Harry hesitated. He didn't want to seem like a whining baby, but he badly needed someone to talk to. He carefully approached Icefyre and seated himself before the great serpent. "I dunno. If you can help, that is."

Icefyre sniffed gently. The distress and anxiety coming off of the young wizard was palpable.  **Nor will you know until I try.  Speak to me. I ssshall listen.**

"What would you do if your best friend hated your . . .err . . .guardian? What would you do if that same friend accused your guardian of something terrible?"

**Such as?**

"Ron thinks Snape's a Death Eater. Insists on it. I don't believe him, but . . ."

**But you wish to be sure.** Icefyre finished.  **Have you thought about asking your guardian?**

Harry blanched. "I couldn't! It'd be like saying I didn't trust him."

**Then what about asking someone else you trust? Like Dumbledore.**

"I guess I could." Harry bit his lip. Ron's accusation had brought so much doubt back into his life. And this was a time he couldn't afford to doubt, to be anxious.  "But Icefyre . . . what if it's true? What then?"

**Then you have a choice to make.  If you're coming to me for advice, I would tell you thisss . . .one large mistake should not brand you your whole life.  If Snape is truly sorry for what he did, then you should forgive him and move on. Let the past be in the past. As you said, he made a mistake, but realized it and returned to the right way, probably at great cost to himself.  Will you then condemn him for an evil man because of something done before you were born?  If so, you'd be no better than your friend Weasley. Is that what you want?**

Harry shook his head.  "No. I want to trust him. No, I need to trust him. He helped me when nobody else gave a damn.  I don't want to know what he did in the past.  And yet, at the same time, I do."

**And if Weasley is right? What then? Would you still want SSeverus as your guardian?  You know what I have done years ago. Do you hate me for killing innocent children?**

"No. What you did . . . it was like you forced to it.  And you saved my life too . You went and killed the bastard who bound you. If that isn't a good thing, I don't know what is."

**That is a wise decision. You are acting most maturely, and Severuss would be proud of you. You have learned to look beyond what most people see.  That is a rare gift, Harry.  To see what is and to know that mistakes are made to be erased, and one should be known not by rumor and hearsay, but by the way he faces the consequences of those actions.**

"I know. That's what I was trying to tell Ron. Only he wouldn't listen to me."

**He seems as stubborn as you.**

"Worse." Harry made a face.  "I don't want to stop being friends with him, but how can I when he doesn't trust me to make good decisions and hates my new family?"

**That is a dilemma I wish I could answer.  But I cannot tell you what to do. This is one choice you have to make for yourself.  What is your friendship really worth? Think about it.**

Harry nodded. Icefyre's words made him feel much better.  But a part of him still wondered if Ron could be right. What if Severus had been a Death Eater once? Even though he thought Ron's accusation was a lie, he couldn't bear not knowing for sure.  So he went to find Dumbledore. 

If anyone would know truth from rumor, the Headmaster would.  He had been there, after all. 

Harry thanked Icefyre and headed back towards the school.  He paused upon seeing the Wise One talking animatedly to Charlie, with Severus translating for the dragon tamer and Ron, who was gaping up at the golden serpent like a witless fool. Harry carefully slipped about the edges of the trees and none of them saw him.

Repeating the password that Dumbledore had changed, it was "Edelweiss", Harry ascended the spiral staircase and then paused before the office door, one hand poised to knock.  He swallowed hard.  Did he really want to do this?

He took a deep breath. Yes. He needed to know the truth and to silence the screaming doubts Ron had brought to life once and for all. Only then could there be true understanding and peace between himself and Snape.

Harry knocked firmly at the door.

For a few moments, there was silence. Harry began to hope the Headmaster was not in. It could wait. Maybe Dumbledore was having lunch?

But then he heard a quiet, "Come in."

Harry turned the knob and entered.

"Hello, Harry," Dumbledore smiled at him genially from behind his desk as the boy entered the room. "What brings you here this afternoon? I'd have thought you'd be down with Ron and the Wise One, helping them understand each other."

At those words, Fawkes awoke from his doze and gave a sharp chirrup.

"Oh, sorry. I was supposed to tell you when the Wise One arrived. She is here, is she not, Harry?"

"Yes. She's down near the forest edge, talking to Charlie and Ron and Severus—I mean Professor Snape—is translating for them." Harry said.

Fawkes gave a soft trill and quickly flew out the window that Dumbledore opened for him. The phoenix was quite eager to meet another healer, especially one as old as the ruffed serpent.

Dumbledore gave an indulgent chuckle as he watched his familiar flying away. Then he turned back to Harry, who was standing with his hands in his pockets, looking very uncomfortable. "What can I do for you, Harry? You seem troubled."

Harry drew in a deep breath. "It's like this, sir . . . I told Ron about my being a Parselmouth and how the professor's my guardian now and saved my life and all and Ron just . . .he thinks that Severus is . . .a dark wizard and I shouldn't have anything to do with him. He told me that Severus used to be a Death Eater, one of Voldemort's followers, and I called him a liar, but he insisted it was true. Said everyone knew Snape was dark once and nearly went to prison. I didn't want to believe him, I still don't, but . . .I have to know the truth. You trust Professor Snape, don't you?"

Dumbledore looked suddenly sad. "I do, Harry. With my life. And more importantly, with yours."

"So that means Ron was wrong." Harry stated, feeling the icy knot in his stomach start to dissolve.

Dumbledore coughed. "No, not really. There are things in Professor Snape's past that are not very, shall we say, commendable. But you really ought to ask Severus these questions, Harry."

But Harry shook his head rapidly. "No! I can't."

"Why? Do you not trust Severus to tell you the truth?" asked the old wizard gently.

"No, it's not that. It's just . . .he'd feel betrayed and upset if I just asked him about being a Death Eater. I don't want him to be hurt, to think I don't trust him . . ."

"My boy, Severus' past is a private thing, and normally I would not discuss it with you—"

"Please, sir! I'll never say where I learned it from. But I have to know. Please!"

He gave Dumbledore a pleading wide-eyed glance.

The other wizard sighed and twiddled with the ends of his beard for several long moments. At last he spoke. "As you wish. But know that what I tell you is in strictest confidence, for your ears only. You are not to share the information with anyone, not even your friends. Will you be able to keep this a secret?"

"Yes, sir. I don't care if Ron knows the truth. He can believe what he wants, he always does anyway. But I need to know . . .for me."

"The answer to your question, Harry, is both yes and no."

Harry was totally confused. "I don't understand, sir."

"Have a seat. This will take awhile to explain. First, I want you to remember what you learned about Severus' home life while he was feverish. Do you remember how his father Tobias beat him?"

"Yeah. He had just as bad a home life as I did."

"Right. And his only refuge was here at Hogwarts like you as well. Only, it is to my shame, that his refuge wasn't a place he could ever feel totally safe."

"Why not?"

"Because he was the target of four Gryffindors who called themselves the Marauders. They were quite popular and enjoyed playing what they considered harmless pranks on other students, but especially Severus."

"Pranks? You mean like Fred and George?"

Dumbledore shook his head. "For a long time I was blind to their little escapades, I thought it just a bit of boyish mischief. But now, looking back, I see that I was wrong. The Marauders were not above humiliating and hurting students to satisfy their need for amusement. I permitted them to go unchecked because I didn't think there was any harm in their little displays, which was a grave mistake. They hurt Severus badly, humiliating him past endurance in his fifth and sixth years."

"What were their names?" Harry asked, frowning. He never would have thought Snape as the victim of bullies, as he had been with Dudley and Dudley's friends. Their lives were more similar than he had ever thought.

"They were Sirius Black, Peter Pettigrew, Remus Lupin, and . . .your father, James Potter." Dumbledore announced.

"My . . .my father?" repeated Harry in astonishment. "Then that's why . . .why Severus never cared for him." He suddenly felt ashamed upon hearing this new information. And he understood perfectly now Snape's peculiar resentment upon seeing Harry for the first time. It must have been like seeing James's ghost, or worse. It had been unfair for the professor to judge him, to believe that he was like his father—a bully—before ever knowing him, but Harry could understand the reasons behind it. And he wondered at the duplicity of the adults, who had seemed to want to push those sorry days under the rug and forget about them, and laud only the good things about James Potter. "Why . . .why didn't anyone tell me this before?"

Dumbledore looked uncomfortable. "Ah . . .you see, my boy, it was a long time ago, and . . . well, your father did die a hero's death, so . . . we didn't want to upset you, my boy . . ."

Harry frowned. "Not telling me the truth hurts worse than hearing this. You made me think my father was perfect, some kind of . . .of . . .paragon, and now you tell me he was a bully, just like Dudley. That he hurt people and thought it was funny. Do you know what my cousin did to me, sir? He hurt and tormented me just like my dad hurt Severus. And got away with it too. All the time." Harry's fists clenched. "But then you tell me that somehow all that doesn't matter, because of how my dad died? How can his dying for his family cancel out what he did to Professor Snape?"

"It doesn't . . .and yet . . .your father did save Severus' life once, from a bad prank gone wrong . . ."

But Harry shook his head again. "But did he ever . . .tell Severus he was sorry for . . .for doing all those bad things to him? Because if not, then I can understand why the professor can't stand my father." Or me by association. Harry thought, except that was no longer true.

"I do not know, my boy, if he ever apologized. I wasn't fully aware of the situation, as I said. And an apology like that would have been a private thing. But eventually, your father did mature and he died a decent man. However, Severus holds no love for your father, despite being your mother's best friend. Severus was hurt too many times by him to ever really forgive what James did to him in school. Your godfather, Sirius Black, was also his nemesis. They played humiliating and often cruel jokes upon him, nearly every day. But Severus never told me this, not until one time, when they went too far . . ."

Dumbledore told Harry about the Shrieking Shack and Severus almost getting bitten. He told him about how James had saved Severus by pulling him away from the door, thus redeeming himself for his part in the prank. He told Harry about several other incidents as well, and then he told him about Lily, and how she had broken off her friendship with Severus because she thought he was too fascinated with the Dark Arts. "That, I think, was the final straw. Without Lily, Severus had no one he could confide in or trust, and he was easy prey for the older Slytherins in his House, those who were born into Death Eater families, who convinced him that he should join their cause, that when he was one of them, no one would dare hurt him again. He told me that he was scorned by most of his House because he was friends with Lily. But once Lily broke with him, naturally he would have gone to the Slytherins who would have encouraged him to be like them and to forget Lily and remember what had been done to him by the hands of the Marauders. Or so I think.

"I should have seen what was going on, should have been more aware, but I was busy trying to counter several things Voldemort was doing and I was not as alert as I should have been. I regret that very deeply now. Had I been paying attention, I might have been able to influence his decision, but . . .I was not. Sometime in the last half of his seventh year, Severus joined the Death Eaters."

Harry gasped. "But why?"

"Severus never really discussed why with me, but I believe he did so not out of a desire for power, but a desire to belong somewhere. You need to understand, Harry, that Severus was nearly an outcast before, despite his brilliant skills with potions and Defense. And Voldemort could be very persuasive, could make you believe that he truly cared about your wellbeing, he was very charismatic and clever. He would have seen Severus' potential and jumped at the chance to win him over. Severus himself once admitted that he knew exactly what to say and how to say it, to convince him to pledge himself to the cause. Probably because Tom too, had once been an orphan with no family, and had felt the same feelings once upon a time."

Harry nodded. The picture was becoming clearer and clearer. Snape had been seduced into darkness, manipulated by a master into thinking it was where he belonged. "So when did he stop being a Death Eater?"

"He was nearly twenty or so when he returned to me one dark night, full of remorse. One of the reasons he returned, I think, had to do with your mother. Another had to do with a prophecy."

"Prophecy? I don't understand."

"A prophecy is a prediction of the future made by a Seer. Professor Snape overheard a prophecy that concerned Voldemort's defeat." Here Dumbledore paused for several long moments. "Harry, this tale is not mine to tell. You would do better to hear this from Severus."

"No! Just tell me."

"My boy, this is a secret that I cannot reveal. Speak to your guardian. I have told you all I can."

Harry glared at him. "Why?"

"Because Professor Snape made it a condition of his, when he entrusted me with his secret regret. I cannot break it, Harry. Not even for you."

"But . . .what if he doesn't want to tell me?"

"That is his choice then. Not everything can always be revealed. Harry, now you know that he was once a Death Eater, but repented of that choice. All he has done since then has been at great personal risk, to try and make amends for the choice he made then. He became my spy, passing information to Voldemort, pretending to still be a loyal follower. The things he was forced to do as a servant of Voldemort were not things he ever would have done if given a choice, he has no love for inflicting pain upon innocents, he admitted to me that it sickened him, and he could only kill in self-defense. He had too much of the healer in him to become a cold-hearted butcher. When you defeated Voldemort, he was freed of his duty, but still kept a few contacts, just in case. I believe that this last defeat is the end, and Tom will stay beyond the Veil of Death this time. If so, this shall be your time and Severus' to live in peace."

Harry stared at him. "You're telling me I shouldn't pry. That I should just let it be."

"Yes, Harry. Some secrets are meant to remain in the dark."

Harry shut his eyes. He thought that if Dumbledore would not reveal it, it must be something terrible. Did he truly need to know? As soon as he thought that, he knew his curiosity would never be satisfied until he knew all. It would gnaw at him like a rat gnawing at a stale rind of cheese, it would plague him insanely. If he didn't find out what the prophecy was and what Snape had done, he would always wonder, always doubt, and never truly trust his guardian. He opened his eyes. "All right, sir. I . . . I'll ask him." He rose to his feet. "Thanks for telling me the truth. As much as you can, anyway."

Dumbledore looked troubled. "Harry, I hope this doesn't affect your relationship with Severus. He made those mistakes long ago, before you were born, and he pays yet for them."

"I know. I think I understand why and can forgive him them . . .when I have the whole story."

"Good luck then, Harry."

Harry left the office, feeling very conflicted and troubled. He did not want to see Ron or Charlie or Severus just yet. As a matter of fact, he was very annoyed at his friend for revealing that bit of Severus' past to him. Thanks so damn much, Ron! You just had to tell me that, and now I'm like a stupid dog chasing his tail.

He headed back up to Gryffindor Tower, since it was deserted, he could think about all he had learned, and try and sort through his feelings.

It was about an hour later, Harry had fallen asleep while thinking, that he heard Severus calling him. He yawned and rose to his feet, he was still sleepy, but knew better than to ignore his guardian. Besides, he needed to talk to the other man anyway.

He found Severus at the bottom of the stairs, tapping a foot impatiently. "Sorry. I fell asleep."

"So I can see," Severus said, eying his ward's messier-than-normal hair and rumpled shirt and jeans. "It's almost dinner. What were you doing up there? Your friend, Weasley, and Charles have since returned home. They couldn't wait for you to make an appearance, they had to leave."

"Oh. Will they be back?"

"Charles said he might return, he is interested in speaking to both the Wise One and Icefyre. He even asked me if Parseltongue can be taught. Sadly, it is a skill that is inborn, and you cannot teach it, not even to one who is willing to learn. Nevertheless, he says he wants to write an article about the two snakes, and try and publish it in a journal of rare magical creatures, he believes it will promote understanding and tolerance towards serpents. I agree and shall try and assist him as I can. Would you care to help?"

Harry nodded eagerly. "That sounds awesome." He was rather glad Ron was gone, that way he didn't have to risk another quarrel. Or seeing Ron gloat once he learned he had been right.

"Good. Come, it's dinner and you must be starving."

Harry considered, and then said, "Yes, but . . . I need to talk to you afterwards, sir. In private. It's important."

"Very well. We shall retire to my quarters after dinner." Severus then turned on his heel and led the way to the Great Hall.

Harry ate his supper, he was hungry, and even his nervousness about the coming confrontation didn't blunt his appetite much.

Finally, Severus pushed back his plate and declared he was finished. Harry soon followed suit, rejecting Dumbledore's offer of dessert, much to the surprise of everyone, himself included. Snape was so astonished he asked Harry if he were feeling well. Harry assured him he was fine, too full to eat another bite.

Once they were alone in Snape's rooms, Harry felt his palms begin to sweat and questioned his own need to get to the bottom of things.

Severus sat down upon the couch, beckoning his ward to sit beside or opposite him in the recliner. The Potions Master could sense Harry was nervous about something, and tried to figure out if the boy had done something wrong, and was now afraid of his guardian's reaction. Or perhaps it had to do with some kind of falling out with Weasley? Or some unpleasant memory of the Dursleys?

Harry sat next to the tall wizard, staring down at his shoes, before he finally lifted his head and said, "Sir, I . . .I have to ask you something and I don't know if you're going to like it, but I really hope you'll answer it."

Severus raised an eyebrow. "Sounds ominous. Let's have it then."

Harry swallowed, then told Severus about his quarrel with Ron and what Ron had said. He also told him that he had gone to Dumbledore, but the old wizard had refused to tell him about much of Snape's reasons for leaving the Death Eaters. "He said I had to ask you . . .so . . .here I am. Will you tell me, sir, about the prophecy ?"

Severus had gone slightly pale as Harry talked, and now two splotches of color rose in his cheeks. He was furious, both at Ron and Dumbledore, the one because he couldn't keep his damn mouth shut, and the other for agreeing to speak about his past sins without consulting him first. This was not how he had intended for Harry to find out. But now was too late for regrets.

"That meddling old fool!" he snarled, his eyes flashing.

Harry looked alarmed. "Please, sir, don't blame Dumbledore. I made him tell me."

"He should have refused. The story of my past is mine to reveal, not his."

"I . . . I insisted." Harry admitted.

"Why did you go to him and not me? Did you think I wouldn't tell you the truth?"

"No, I just . . . didn't want you to get upset. I'm sorry, sir. But when Ron said that, I just . . . I had to know if he was wrong, he usually is, but I . . . I'm sorry . . ."

Severus reigned in his temper, there was no sense in getting angry with Harry. "What's done is done. I would have most likely done the same in your place. Now that you know the truth, about me and your father, what do you think?"

"I think that my dad should have been punished for what he did to you, and I . . . can see why you wanted everyone to go to hell and joined them. It was wrong, but I can sort of see why you did it."

"Not everyone, Harry. I never wished harm upon your mother." Severus corrected.

"Dumbledore said that she was one of the reasons you came back. And the other was a prophecy. Will you tell me about it?"

"That is not something I had planned on discussing with you now. However, I see that you'll not be content until you know about it, or my part in it. It is not an easy tale to hear, not something I ever speak of, it is something that I did unwittingly, but it nearly destroyed everything I cared about."

There were shadows in the other's eyes, dark and deep, and age-old regret and pain.

Almost, Harry told him to forget it. But then the insatiable curiosity reared its head once more, and he sat still and waited for Severus to begin.

Haltingly, Snape told him about a prophecy overheard at the Hog's Head, made by Divination professor Sybill Trelawney. He told of how he brought the portion he had heard to Lucius Malfoy and who then gave it to the Dark Lord. Voldemort immediately recognized it as a true prophecy and therefore a threat to him. He immediately sought to discover who the child of the prophecy was.

"It became an obsession with him. He sent out many of his followers to obtain records of every child born in that year and month and finally narrowed it down to one of two . . .Neville Longbottom and you. For reasons known only to himself, he considered you the greater threat . . ."

Severus told him about his struggle to convince Voldemort otherwise, and when he finally realized nothing could deter the madman, he took steps to try and warn the Potters. "It was my fault he learned of the prophecy in the first place, had I known what it meant, I would have never—"

"Betrayed them?" Harry finished. His voice was sharp with pain. Now he understood why Dumbledore refused to speak of that night. The night Snape had brought news of the prophecy to the dark one, and thus set him upon Harry and his parents. He stared at his guardian in horror and whispered. "All this time . . . it was you! How could you? How could you?"

"Harry, it was the biggest mistake of my life . . ." Severus began, knowing all the while that words were useless against the awful truth.

"You're the reason he came . . . that they died!" Harry gasped, the pain overwhelming him. "They'd still be alive, if only . . ."

"You don't know that. Harry, listen to me—"

But Harry could take no more. The truth was like a knife in his belly, ripping and tearing. "No! I trusted you!" he shouted. "And all this time . . . Ron was right . . . you really were a dark wizard . . ." Even as he spoke those words, words intended to hurt as he was hurting, Harry knew he lied. Snape's face had drained of all color, and the pain and self-loathing were plain to see upon his features. He reached for the boy's shoulder, but Harry jerked away. "Don't touch me, you . . . you murdering bastard!" Then he jumped up and ran out of the room, his vision blurred by tears, feeling a terrible pain in the vicinity of his heart. Had he looked back he would have seen Snape flinch, as if Harry had run him through. But Harry did not look back, he stumbled from Snape's quarters, like one blind and drunk.

Severus did not attempt to stop him. He simply sat, stunned. "Lily, I'm sorry," he whispered. It was over now. The sins of the past had come back to haunt him, as he had known someday they would. He cursed roundly in his head. He considered going after his ward, who now hated him, but couldn't muster up the strength to try. He had to trust that Harry would not endanger himself again.

He cast a single Monitoring Charm, enough to tell him that Harry still remained in the castle.

That done, he continued to sit in silence, quietly mourning the death of the relationship between himself and Lily's child. It was the same now as it had been then, when Lily had shut him out of her life. He felt the ache deep within, and he wrapped his arms about himself and bowed his head. The worst mistake of his life, and for all the years since, he had sought to atone for it, but it would never be enough. The boy would never forgive him. Anymore than he was able to forgive himself.

Once again, he was alone. And it was no more than he deserved.

Harry ran back down the dungeon corridors until he found the stairs, then walked unsteadily up them. His vision was blurred by tears he refused to shed, his heart heavy within him from the awful knowledge he now carried. His feet took him up to the seventh floor and Gryffindor Tower. He gave the password, "Strongheart" to the Fat Lady, just barely managing not to start laughing in mockery. He was neither stronghearted or courageous, he was falling apart.

He stumbled into the common room, which was cheerily lit and had a fire crackling merrily in the grate. He made it to the couch and sank down upon the comfy red cushions, grabbed a pillow and hugged it. He felt stunned and aching, as if he'd been pummeled for several hours by a Bludger. A part of him cursed his insatiable curiosity, his need to know Snape's secret past. Better that he had not known, than to feel this awful crushing despair.

You always knew he had something terrible in his past, whispered his conscience. And now that you know, what will you do?

Harry didn't know. Right then he both hated and loved his guardian, he was confused and hurting, and he wanted to both hex Snape and hug him. He recalled that discussion about rules and how Snape had stressed that Harry never draw a wand on him. Back then Harry had sworn that nothing would make him do so. But a few moments ago he would have cursed the Potions Master if he had his wand handy. But he had left it in the pocket of his robe, in Dumbledore's office. A lucky coincidence.

Harry curled up, still clutching the pillow, trying desperately to figure out how Severus could have betrayed his parents that way. Tears dripped from his eyes. He wished he had never learned of the bloody prophecy or Snape's dark past. He wished things could go back the way they were, but knew they never could. And it was that which hurt most of all.

He buried his face in the pillow and wept bitterly. He was not used to crying so openly, it had been forbidden for him to cry at Privet Drive. "None of your bloody sniveling!" was how Uncle Vernon used to put it, and Harry had learned early to shove the tears deep inside, or else risk Vernon's wrath. Or Dudley's scorn. But now he was free of the Dursleys, free to indulge in the solace of tears, and it was like a dam had erupted from within.

He cried for his parents, he cried for Severus, but most of all he cried for himself and for the bright future he had once foresaw, that had died a swift death and now all that remained were ashes. He cried and cried, until he was spent and the pillow was soggy and his nose all stuffed and his eyes puffy.

Finally he just lay there, sniffling, weary and cold, despite the warmth of the fire. It was a few moments before his natural resilience kicked in and he decided to go into the bathroom just down the hall and wash his face.

He lingered in the bathroom, blowing his nose and placing a cool cloth over his stinging and burning eyes.

He thought about returning to the common room and just falling asleep, trying to pretend that he was still innocent and had never learned of Snape's betrayal or his father's bullying ways or Dumbledore's complicity. But then he recalled his missing wand and robe and decided to go and pick them up. He wouldn't say anything to Dumbledore, just pick up his belongings and leave.

He peered at himself in the bathroom mirror. No trace of puffiness remained about his eyes and only a slight redness lingered under his eyes and his nose. He could easily hide it with his glasses and explain it away as a cold, should the Headmaster ask. He squared his shoulders and marched out of the bathroom. He might be cut and bleeding inside, but he would never show it. In that, he was very much like his mentor.

He made his way swiftly to the stone gargoyle that guarded Dumbledore's inner sanctum and spoke the password. The gargoyle slid aside and he stepped up onto the revolving staircase. When he reached the door at the top, he reached for the handle, not even bothering to knock. He had just eased open the door a crack when he heard voices inside, and one voice in particular, low, rasping, and full of fury.

Snape.

Harry froze.

"You just had to meddle again, didn't you, Albus? You couldn't bear not to stir the cauldron and watch it boil over."

"Harry came to me, Severus, I did not approach him. He told me Ron Weasley had accused you of being a Death Eater and he wished to know the truth."

"And why did you not send him to me?" rasped Severus. "It was my past and my story to tell."

"I tried, but he was insistent that I tell him. He said he would rather I tell him, he did not wish to upset you. I tried to dissuade him, Severus—"

"Not very hard, it seems! Always you have a soft spot when it comes to your precious Gryffindors."

"Severus, that's not fair! I have always tried—"

"Don't you dare speak to me of fair and unfair, Albus! For you know not the meaning of those words. I'll tell you what's unfair . . . to tell my ward about something I wished kept private. Harry is only a boy, he should not have to bear the burden of what I once was, it was not something he needed to know at this age. He's been through enough without that."

"I could not lie to the boy."

"No? You didn't have that problem last year, now did you? You should have told him you could not discuss it without my permission, sent him to me, not babbled like an old idiot whose wits were wandering! Damn you, do you have any concept of what you have done to me? To him? He was just beginning to feel comfortable with me, and I had just started to get used to having him with me, to feel like we belonged together. You know that I have no family, and had never thought to have one, given what I am and what I had done. He was my chance to finally have that, and to give him one as well. Name of Merlin, Albus, why did you not keep your bloody mouth shut?"

"I am truly sorry, Severus . . ."

"A bit too late for that, now isn't it?" said Snape caustically. "I had intended to tell him about my past later on, when he was older, and better able to understand the demons that drove me to follow the dark road. But you in your infinite wisdom—" here Snape's voice became cutting with sarcasm. "—and that thick-tongued dolt Weasley let the cat out of the bag and forced my hand. Now he knows of the prophecy and my part in it and considers me a traitor. Now he loathes me."

"Oh, Severus. I never meant for this to happen. I tried to tell him to just let it go, but he wouldn't listen."

"Wouldn't listen?" sneered Severus. "Who's the adult here, you or him? You made a choice to reveal my past to him, and now it is all ruined."

"Surely not. If you just went and talked to him, explained about the vagueness of the prophecy and—"

"I doubt it will do any good. He wouldn't listen to a damn thing I said." Snape's voice suddenly sounded weary, hurt, and hopeless. "I am his enemy now."

Upon hearing that, Harry nearly cried out in denial, but remembered where he was and managed to keep his mouth closed. He did not consider Snape an enemy, not really. His first flush of anger and hatred had flared and died and now he did not know just how he felt about his guardian.

"No. I cannot believe that." Dumbledore said firmly. "You saved his life, Severus. Many times. Harry knows that, he knows you care deeply for him. He just needs time, Severus. Time for the hurt to lessen."

"It is easy for boys his age to hate, Albus. You did not see his face when I told him, you didn't hear his voice when he spoke to me afterwards . . ."

"You yourself know that words spoken in anger are often are the ones you mean the least. Boys his age are often quick to snap, but they also forgive sooner than most."

"Do they? Not this. Eleven years since, and still the shame and guilt linger, Albus. Not a day goes by that I do not remember and regret what happened that night. I had thought by protecting Harry and raising him as I would my own child, I would finally atone for that terrible act. The boy deserves better, I promised him a normal life. A place he could call home. Someone he could trust to put him first. But I doubt he will have me now, not as mentor or guardian."

"You don't know that, Severus . . ."

Abruptly, Harry turned away. Listening to that conversation tugged at his heartstrings, but at the same time he was reluctant to let go of his anger. Snape had cost him his family, how could he forget or forgive that? And yet, he had heard the regret and remorse in the Potion Master's voice. Feeling utterly torn and overwhelmed, he decided to go for a walk. He needed to think, to sort through his feelings.

He retreated from the door and made his way back down to Snape's quarters, where he donned his coat, boots, scarf and gloves. Putting them on made him feel warm and cozy, and somehow closer to the professor. How could the man who had given him these wonderful gifts and rescued him from a lifetime of abuse be the same man who had betrayed his parents?

He headed out of the castle, careful to look around before slipping through the double doors. The last thing he needed right then was to run into Snape or Dumbledore.

Outside, the snow sparkled as the last rays of the setting sun struck it, and small crystals swirled through the air. Harry lingered for a few moments, breathing in the cool air and staring out at the snow-laden landscape, a small smile flitting about his face. It looked like a great evening to walk about, and he was surprised not to see any of the other students playing in the snow. Then again, it was also a great evening to sit in front of the fire and roast marshmallows and drink hot apple cider or creamy hot chocolate.

Just thinking about that made Harry's stomach rumble. He had missed lunch and hadn't felt much like eating dinner earlier. But now he was suddenly starving. He quickly shoved his stomach's clamoring aside, the way he had done almost all his life, and started walking across the lawn, the snow was almost up to his knees, but it couldn't penetrate his new boots.

Had it really been only a few days ago that he had played with Snape in the snow? It seemed oddly like a lifetime ago. Harry reached the verge of the forest, where the snow had been packed down and smashed by the Wise One's body as she had curled up and spoken to Charlie with Severus translating for them. He pulled out the gleaming golden scale and rubbed it, thinking hard of the Wise One.

Wise One. Wise One. I need you.

She had told him a few days before that the scale could be used to call her as well as guiding the holder back to her home. Harry had never tried the summons before but he badly needed to talk to someone, before he exploded from anxiety. The Wise One had helped him before, perhaps she would consent to do so again.

Again he sent out his silent plea.

Then he waited to see what would happen.

Some seven minutes later, the ruffed serpent came gliding through the trees, making a soft shushing noise. She gleamed like scattered gold dust, a rare and precious creature, the last of her kind. Her eyes reflected the sunlight, making them shimmer like a faceted emerald, all save the slit pupil.

**Harry, is something amiss? You smell . . . as if you were grieving. There is a distinct scent of wet salt about you, which in my experience means you have been weeping.**

The Wise One stopped in front of him, lowering her head and raising her ruff, her emerald orbs whirling with concern. She radiated warmth and compassion, and the combination of both was enough to almost cause Harry to lose control over his precarious emotions and start crying all over her. But he gathered the shreds of his twelve-year-old dignity and looked the great serpent in the eye and said, "I really need your advice. I have a problem and don't know how to resolve it."

**I see. Is this problem a knotty one? Ssshall we retire to my cave to discuss it? I would hate for you to . . .what is the human expression? Ah, catch cold, that's right. S-S-Severus would be most wroth with me, ssshould you fall ill again after you have recovered so nicely.**

Harry almost giggled at her quaint phrasing. Severus would be wroth indeed! The serpent was right, however. And Harry didn't fancy yet another week in the Hospital Wing, confined to a bed. So he opted to visit the Wise One's cave. "Is Icefyre still there?"

**Yes-s-s, he is. He ssleeps mostly, because unlike me, he is coldblooded, and winter weather makes his body hibernate to conserve energy and fat stores.** The Wise One answered, lowering the front half of her body so Harry could climb atop her bulk. Once Harry was secure, she undulated through the trees.

Harry sat on her back and said nothing until they had reached the cave.

Then he slid from her, landing easily upon her coils, for she had wound her body about herself several times, making of her coils a seat for the small boy. Icefyre's soft snores reverberated through the cave. Harry almost wished the basilisk were awake, for he might have known better than the Wise One what Harry should do. "How long has he been asleep? I spoke to him earlier today."

**Not long. Only a few hours. And I do not know if this is hibernation or merely ordinary sleep.** She tilted her head and gazed fondly at her cousin. Then she turned and focused upon Harry. **Now then, mon petit, what has you so upset?**

"Well, you see, it's like this . . ." Harry told her about Ron's accusation and how angry and curious it had made him. He told her about going to Dumbledore, their conversation about Snape as a Death Eater, and Harry's insistence about knowing the whole truth behind Snape's past.

"I thought, how bad could it be, and I was annoyed that Dumbledore kept treating me like some kind of baby, and not telling me everything. But he kept telling me to ask Severus, so I did, once I got a free moment alone with him before supper. And I was wrong. It was worse than I ever thought. Not only was he a Death Eater, but he . . . betrayed my parents."

**I do not understand. Betrayed them how?**

"He brought Lucius Malfoy a prophecy he overheard about a wizard born to kill Voldemort. Then Malfoy told his master and Voldemort decided to go after me and my parents and kill us before I could grow up and kill him. So it's because of Snape that my parents died. If he never told about the prophecy, they might still be alive."

The Wise One was silent for several minutes. Then she said, hissing softly, **Did Severus know who the prophecy referred to when he told about it? Did he know for certain that it pointed to you and your family?**

Harry hesitated. He recalled Snape protesting that he didn't know who the prophecy was meant to refer to, and Dumbledore saying the prophecy was vague. "Umm . . . I don't think so. The prophecy just said one would be born as the seventh month dies that would defeat the Dark Lord with a power he knows not or something like that."

**That prophecy could have referred to many people born at the end of the seventh month. Prophecies are often non specific in nature, and can be interpreted many ways. Is it not possible that Voldemort was to blame and not Severus, for interpreting the prophecy to mean you were his enemy? Did Severus suggest that you were the one the prophecy meant?**

Harry shook his head slowly. "No. I don't think so. But what does that matter? He told them about it!"

**It matters because it shows he bore no malicious intent to harm you or your parents. He told me once that he was your mother's best friend, that she was the only one he ever trusted to tell the terrible truth about his childhood—that he was beaten and hated by his own father—now does that sound like someone who would turn her in to her worst enemy?**

"No."

**Let me ask you something else. When he told you about what he had done, how did he act? Was he regretful, indifferent, uncaring?**

"He was regretful. He . . . he called it the worst mistake of his life and he was . . . ashamed."

** I see. No true dark wizard would ever express remorse over such a thing, Harry. They would think it was right and proper. But not S-S-Severus. Because he is not a dark wizard. Nor do I think he ever was one.**

"How can you say that? He told me himself he joined Voldemort after he left school."

**Child, one may join a group and not espouse all of its ideas and beliefs. I have known dark wizards in my time, and I tell you now that he has not the taint upon him. Whatever he was once, he is not the same now. And if he utterly repudiated the dark ones, he is the bravest human I know, for he would have had to have enormous courage to reject them and come back to the light, knowing full well both they and those of the light might consider him an enemy and attack him. Knowing too that the Light might forever mistrust him for his decision and no matter how much he tried, he might never be accepted as one of them. S-S-severus has traveled a long, hard, lonely road, Harry.**

"Yeah, but he chose to become a Death Eater."

**True, but I doubt the choice was all his own. He was young, and easily influenced by charismatic evil men. He made a choice to join them, but he also chose to return. How many do you know that have done that?**

"I don't know."

**In all of my centuries, I can say there have been very few to ever walk down the dark road and then return to the Light. To have the courage to admit to a mistake and then atone for it. Very few. He is to be commended.**

"What are you saying?"

**Simply this. What happened to your parents was a tragedy, and one that S-S-severus must bear some of the blame for. But not all. The largest part of the blame must rest with their murderer, do you not agree?**

"Yes."

**Ask yourself this as well. Your parents were fighting a war against Voldemort. He was their avowed enemy, correct? Even without the prophecy, there was a chance that they might have confronted Voldemort anyway, is that not ssso? And been killed. In war it is often ssso. Voldemort made a choice too, to try and evade his fate. But, as you know, all his attempts failed. Twice. He died once when his spell failed against you and again when Icefyre attacked him. He was indeed defeated by the power he knew not.**

"Dumbledore said my mother's love protected me and that was what killed him."

**Even ssso. Voldemort never knew love from anyone. Nor did he know what it was to be a friend. That was his downfall. For you befriended Icefyre, not simply manipulated him and used him for your own purposes. Like S-Salazar before you, you respected the sserpent and that made all the difference.**

**But you'd not have lived to be a friend to me if not for your mentor** Icefyre broke in, having woken from his sleep and heard most of the conversation, but remaining quiet until then.

Harry turned to see the hooded basilisk swaying back and forth. "I know. I know he saved my life. In more ways than one." He unconsciously ran his hands down his new coat, sleek black suede and golden fleece. "That's why it's so hard to believe that he did something like that. What was he thinking?"

**Perhaps you should asssk him,**suggested Icefyre. **People change. Remember when I asked you this morning if what you found out about S-S-Severus would change your opinion of him? You said it would not. Have you changed your mind? Do you not wish him to be your guardian?**

Harry was silent for several long moments. Angry and upset as he was at the other man, he had never considered leaving Snape and choosing another guardian. As he had said to Ron, Snape was the best one for the job. He trusted Dumbledore even less than he did Severus, and could not imagine anyone else as his guardian. "No, I . . . I still want him to be my guardian, it's just that . . . I don't know if I can trust him to tell me the truth."

**About his past?**

"Yes . . . no . . . I don't know."

**It ssseems to me you are confused about why your mentor kept his past a secret from you. If I had to guess I would ssay that he was ashamed of what he had done and did not know how to tell you about it, and two, that he was trying to protect you. Sssometimes adults try and sshield their children from painful things, I remember Morgana always complaining about S-Salazar being too overprotective. I believe that is why S-Snape did not tell you what had occurred.**

The Wise One bobbed her head in agreement. **You must understand, there are things that no parent or guardian would wish their child to know, especially one as young as you.**

"I'm not a baby!" Harry snapped indignantly. But then he recalled Severus' words to Dumbledore, saying that he would have waited to speak of such things until Harry were older.

**No, but all parents are overprotective of their children. Especially if they know something that would hurt you. S-S-Severus believed that it would do more harm than good to tell you now.**

"Maybe you're right. Maybe I should have just kept my nose out of it. But now that I know, I . . . don't know how to feel anymore. I just want to forget about it, sometimes, but then I don't and all I can think of is how the man who saved my life and bought me this coat is the same one who became a Death Eater. I don't know if I can forgive him for what he did."

**And yet you forgave me.** Icefyre reminded him.

"That's different. You're a basilisk, you didn't . . ." he trailed off abruptly, just before he would have insulted the serpent by saying "you didn't know any better."

Icefyre hissed softly in reproof. **How ssso, little sssnakeling? Just because I am a basilisk does not mean I did not know what I was doing. I was misled, yes-s-s, but never assume that I did not choose to listen to the false heir's promises. I chose to obey his dictates and to kill innocent children and prey upon those who had never done me harm. Unlike S-S-Severus, mine was not an indirect harm, I hunted and killed. Mine was the greater crime by far, and yet you can accept that I have changed, that in ssslaying the False S-S-Slytherin, I have now atoned for my sssins. You ssstill call me friend. But you cannot forgive your guardian, who did sso much more for you than I have ever done, who loves you like his own? Who ssaved your life, not once, but thrice? We have a sssaying among my kind—third time pays all debts. I would sssay that by his actions, S-S-S-everusss S-Snape has paid enough for a mistake he committed inadvertently. But then, perhaps it is different among humans? You have ever been a vengeful race.**

Harry flinched, for Icefyre's words pricked him in uncomfortable places within his heart. The basilisk had as much as admitted that he was a killer, and yet Harry was not afraid or distrustful of the giant snake. Why was he able to accept Icefyre's mistakes but not Severus'? An instant later he had his answer. Icefyre's crimes had been committed against unknown people, people Harry would never know. But Severus' crime was against his parents, and so hit closer to home.

"I . . . want to forgive him, but . . . if I do that then won't it mean that I'm dishonoring my parents?"

**Ah, Harry. Would your parents wish you to carry such a burden around? Would they forgive S-Severuss if he came to them and proved he was sincerely sorry for what he had done?**

Harry thought about it. From all he had learned of her, Lily probably would forgive her old friend. He suspected James might have as well, after hexing Snape to the moon. He nodded. He didn't want to have this terrible weight upon his heart, he wanted the pain to stop. He didn't want to hate Severus, who had rescued him time and again and whom he had just begun to admire and to almost love.

**Harry, to err is human, to forgive, divine. And forgiveness doesn't mean all is forgotten, simply acknowledged and accepted.** The Wise One explained"

The small boy heaved a sigh. "All right. I can forgive him. But I don't know if I'll ever trust him the same way."

**Trust is another matter altogether. That is something that you must decide for yourself, although if you expect a Slytherin to give up all his secrets, you are out of your mind. You ought to know that by now.** Icefyre stated.

Harry managed a small smile. "'Course I do!" He hissed back.

**Good! My advice to you, youngling, is to ssspeak with your mentor and ssort things out between you. Holding anger and resentment inside of you can only fester and poison your ssspirit.** advised the basilisk.

**Icefyre ssspeaks true,** the Wise One said serenely. **Anger and resentment turn to bitterness and bitterness to hate, and that is not what you want to happen. Go to S-S-Severus and talk to him. He is a good man, despite his mistakes, both past and present. Trust me on that.**

There was little Harry could say to refute that, and just leaning against the Wise One imparted a sense of warmth and security which he badly needed. He trusted the ruffed serpent, who radiated an aura of peace and serenity that soothed the raw places in his spirit and gave him hope again. "Okay. Will you take me back to school now?"

**I shall,** the ruffed serpent agreed, then she unwound herself and headed back out into the snowy woods with Harry on her back.

SWSWSWSW

At supper that night, Snape was absent, leaving Harry with Dumbledore and the other students for company. Harry barely touched his food, his stomach was in knots and he feared whatever he ate would come right back up. He listened to the other students joking and talking about different things and wished that Hermione or Neville were here. Or even Ron, so he could grouse at the redhead for causing such strife between him and Snape.

Harry ate one scoop of ice cream before pushing his chair away and leaving the hall. His heart was heavy within him and he debated, hesitating at the top of the dungeon stairs, whether to go and find Severus and speak with him. A part of him longed to go and confront the professor, but another part feared that Snape no longer wanted anything to do with him after their quarrel, and so he stood there for several long moments, teetering upon the horns of a dilemma. Until finally, he turned away and trudged up to Gryffindor Tower, where he spent two hours tossing and turning before falling into an uneasy sleep, curled up in the middle of his bed, the hangings ajar and the lamp left on.

He never noticed a silent black robed figure enter the tower and stand at the side of the bed, looking down at him with a wistful expression upon his face. Severus gently tucked the covers around the boy, for he had kicked them off and was now shivering slightly. The Potions Master had waited all afternoon and night for the boy to return to his quarters, figuring if he went after him, he would only make Harry even more upset. Dumbledore had said to give Harry time to assimilate what he had learned and so Severus had decided the best course of action was to wait for Harry to come to him when he was ready.

However, when night fell, he had grown concerned and used the Monitoring Charm to find the boy, relieved when he discovered Harry asleep in his bed in the tower, though the sight of the dark-haired boy sleeping alone in the large empty room made him wince. So, it has come to this. You prefer this cold drafty tower to the room I had made for you with its own fireplace and down comforter and the posters you picked out yourself for the walls. You prefer to be alone than to be in my company for even an evening. Very well then. I shall respect your decision, though I wish you would at least discuss things with me. Sleep well.

One long-fingered hand brushed across the top of Harry's head, tangling briefly in the dark hair, then withdrew reluctantly. Silently, the professor departed the room, wondering in how so brief a time, Potter's scamp of a son had managed to touch his heart so deeply. So much so that he actually found himself missing the boy when he was not around for a single night.

Day 2:

It was the beginning of the last week of the holidays, and Harry allowed himself to sleep an extra hour before rising and going to take a long hot shower. He loved this time, when he was able to linger in the warm steamy shower without worrying about getting to class on time or using all the hot water or having to cook breakfast for the Dursleys. At Privet Drive he hardly ever got a hot shower, he was forced to shower after everyone else had and by then the water was cold.

After he had melted his bones, he dressed, and went down to breakfast wondering if Snape would be there. Instead he found only Dumbledore in the Great Hall, eating chipped beef on toast and poached eggs.

"Hello, Harry! It's a good morning, isn't it?"

"Hello. Err . . .is Professor Snape coming to eat?" Harry asked as he slid into his place to the left of the Headmaster. Since it was the holidays and Dumbledore liked company at mealtimes, all the students currently at school were invited to sit at the staff table if they chose.

"He was just here. Had a piece of toast and a banana and coffee before he said he had to start brewing some remedies and drafts for the new term. So he's probably stirring about in his lab."

"Oh." Harry said. He considered going down to the dungeon, but then lost his nerve. If Snape were brewing he wouldn't welcome the interruption. He would simply wait until the afternoon.

"Did you wish to speak with him, Harry?" inquired Dumbledore kindly.

"Uh . . .yeah, but I can talk to him later. He'll bite my head off if I interrupt him while he's brewing." Harry said, quietly eating some toast, bacon, and eggs.

Dumbledore chuckled. "Yes, he's been known to snap if someone disturbs him in the midst of his brewing. I do hope that you aren't still angry with him for what happened eleven years ago, Harry. It was never my intention to cause a rift between you when I spoke of Severus' past, only to help you gain a better understanding of why Professor Snape is the way he is."

Harry just kept eating, not answering or looking at Dumbledore. But the food, which had tasted good a moment before, now tasted like ashes on his tongue and his stomach began to hurt. He pushed away his half full plate. "I've got to go and study, sir. Got a big Transfiguration test coming up at the beginning of next term."

Then he stood up and almost ran out of the room.

He spent five minutes pacing about his room before losing the battle with his queasy stomach and puking up what little he had eaten.

Afterwards he went and lay down on his bed, feeling miserable.

He kept going around in circles, thinking about what he would say to Snape, or what Snape might say to him. When should he approach the professor? And how should he begin the conversation? Finally he decided to write Hermione and clue her in on what was going on. The witch always had sound advice for him, and perhaps she could offer him some help on how to proceed.

He pulled out several sheets of parchment, sharpened his quill, and opened a fresh bottle of ink. Then he began to write.

Twenty minutes later he was finished, had sprinkled some sand upon the letter to help the ink dry quicker and once it had dried stuck it into an envelope and went to the owlery to have Hedwig deliver the letter. Hedwig was pleased to run the errand and flew away swiftly.

Harry wondered how long it would take before Hermione responded. It was chilly in the owlery, at least to Harry, who had forgotten to put on slippers or socks and was standing on the flagstones in bare feet. He glanced down at his chilling toes and mused that Snape would have his hide if he saw how lackadaisical Harry had become.

Shrugging, Harry headed down the stairs to the seventh floor and then he wandered about the upper floor, since returning to his empty common room and dormitory held no appeal, nor did slipping back into Snape's quarters and into the room the professor had created just for him, a private spot for his ward. He idly began trying doorknobs along the seventh floor, most were locked, a few were empty and one had some old boxes of robes and old school blankets, plus other odds and ends, like a frayed cap, a moth-eaten scarf, shoes that looked like they'd gotten a potion spilled upon them.

Must be the room of lost and found objects, he mused, walking into the room. There was also some old furniture in there, like chairs with rickety legs and a huge throne-like one with dusty red velvet cushions that looked like it had been around since the days of Henry VIII.

Harry sneezed and waved his hand to clear the air of dust. His eye was caught by a large upright object beneath a large midnight blue drapery. His curiosity overwhelming him, he tugged off the drape to reveal the Mirror of Erised.

Harry hadn't seen the mirror since last year, when he'd managed to get the Sorcerer's Stone out of it. Last time he had looked into the mirror he had seen his parents. He wondered what he would see if he glanced in the mirror now.

He recalled Dumbledore's warning about the mirror, but then decided a mere glimpse couldn't hurt. He walked in front of the mirror and peered into the smoky depths.

There was a peculiar blue flash and then Harry was transfixed by the sight of his parents and farther in the background was a familiar figure in a black cloak. Severus. He peered harder into the glass, the figures were so misty.

As he stared, the figures suddenly sharpened, and then he felt his mother's arms about him, his father's hand upon his shoulder.

"Harry, we've missed you so much," Lily crooned, holding him fast.

"You seem like you're tired, son. Stay here and rest awhile." James told him, and Harry shivered, for his father's hand was cold, he could feel the chill even through his jumper.

How strange. This never happened before. Or did it? I can't remember. He gazed up at James and Lily and smiled. This was how it should have been, would have been, had not Snape told Voldemort of the bloody prophecy. He looked over at Snape, who seemed to suddenly grow more and more misty. Harry felt a bit uneasy upon seeing that, it was as if Snape were a ghost.

He turned and looked at Lily, marveling at how solid she seemed to feel, and said, "Mum, can I ask you something?"

Lily smiled down at him. "Of course, sweetheart. But not yet. Let me look at you, hold you. I have dreamed of this ever so long." Then she bent and kissed him on the forehead.

The touch of her lips seemed to draw all the warmth from him and he felt himself floating, drifting, sinking into Lily's arms. She was so warm and he suddenly felt chilled to the marrow of his bones. A small voice in the back of his mind began to shriek that something was wrong, but he ignored it. This was where he belonged.

Tendrils of a frosty blue surged from the mirror and wrapped about Harry, slowly leeching away all his body heat, as the curse upon the mirror activated.

SWSWSWSW

Severus had finally finished decanting the last draft and putting in the stopper. He then took them in a padded box to the school storeroom and started restocking the shelves. Just as he had set the last vial upon the shelf, he felt the Monitoring Charm quiver in warning. Frowning, Severus shut and locked the potions store and scowled.

Great Merlin's ghost, what has that boy gotten into now?

He felt the Monitoring Charm buzz in his ears even more urgently, and followed it up the stairs to the seventh floor.

Upon reaching the Room of Lost Things, Severus threw open the door, and called, "Harry? Are you in here?"

When no reply came, Snape entered, cloak billowing, and glanced around.

Almost immediately he caught sight of a strange blue glow among the dust motes floating thickly in the air. "Potter, what the hell are you playing at?" he snapped, angry that the boy would deliberately ignore him.

He strode around the boxes and stepped upon the thick drape lying on the floor.

"Hellfire and damnation!" he cried in shock upon seeing the insidious tendrils of mist sucking at Harry's prone form. He looked into the mirror, and saw Lily and Harry standing next to him. Almost, he succumbed to the vision, and the blue mist quested towards him.

But Severus Snape was not one to be seduced so easily by dark magic, not after so many years of studying it and learning how to counter it. Recognizing the trap for what it was, he quickly Occluded his mind and warded himself. The mirror went blank and the blue tendrils hissed against his magical shields, melting away.

Severus knelt quickly by Harry, who was so cold Snape feared he was a corpse, and shook the boy hard. "Harry! Wake up! You're in a trance, it's not real. Harry! Wake up, dammit!"

But the boy remained unresponsive, still trapped in the web of desire.

Harry snuggled happily into Lily's arms, uncaring that he was feeling rather detached and his blood felt like ice in his veins. His mother was warm and comforting, he had dreamed of this moment for so long, wishing and wanting for something he could barely remember, and now it was here.

He felt James' hand upon his shoulder, patting him and murmuring, "I'm so proud of you, Harry. You're just like me, brilliant. We can play Quidditch together, go flying together, you're a chip off the old block."

"Sure, Dad," Harry smiled.

Then he heard someone calling him. The voice was loud and discordant.

"Harry! Harry, wake up!"

He shook his head rebelliously. "No. I want to stay here. Right here."

Again the voice came, sharper, stronger, and he felt himself start to withdraw from Lily and James. Frantic, he clung harder to his mother, ignoring the painful frozen spikes that stabbed through him.

"Don't go, my son. Stay here. Stay . . ." James said.

"I won't. I'll stay right here."

"Yes, my darling. Right here." Lily whispered, her green eyes alight with a possessive need. "Stay here and keep me warm forever and ever."

"Yes, Mum," he murmured sleepily. The cold was overwhelming now and all he wanted was to sleep.

CRACK!

Severus' hand stung as he slapped his ward hard across the face, desperately trying to bring Harry back from the semi-coma he had drifted into.

The boy's head jerked and then Harry's eyes flew open and he stared at Severus in puzzlement. "Huh? What?" His hand rose and touched his cheek.

"Harry, listen to me. You're under some kind of curse and I need you to focus all of your will upon remaining awake. Understand?"

"But why? I wanna go to sleep, I'm tired and cold and I was having the best dream . . ." Harry whined, sounding like a small child.

"Forget the dream," Severus said sharply. "Just concentrate on me. Don't close your eyes."

"But they're waiting for me. I've got to go back. Mum and Dad are waiting . . ." He yawned.

"No!" Severus shook him. "Do not fall asleep!"

Harry glanced towards the mirror, seeking the solace of his parents' faces. "I want to see them again! I have to see them again!" he shouted, trying to push Snape away. But he might as well have been tapping his hands against a brick wall. Snape was immovable.

"Hush. Hit me if you want, but stay awake," the professor muttered, and then began to pass his wand rapidly over Harry and chant very softly. He made certain to keep his body inbetween Harry and the mirror.

Harry started to shiver violently. "Don't you understand? I have to go back! They're waiting for me."

He could feel something tugging and pulling at him. The mist . . .it was releasing him. He reached out for it, crying sharply, "No! Take me with you! Take me . . ."

The mist was curling about Snape's wand, like smoke from a lit cigarette. It hissed and writhed, but Snape never ceased his chanting, keeping the mist centered upon him. Then he snarled a word in Latin and the mist vanished with a loud pop.

No sooner than that had happened, there came a tremendous CRACK!

The Mirror of Erised now had a huge crack marring its surface.

The curse was broken and so too was the vessel that contained it.

"You broke the mirror!" Harry cried.

"Yes. And the curse upon it as well." Severus said, relaxing. He cast one last look at the shattered object before bending down to lift Harry into his arms. "Merlin's bones, boy, but you're like a block of ice. What were you thinking, meddling with that bloody mirror that way? Didn't Dumbledore tell you to stay away from it?" He quickly cast a Warming Charm over his ward. Some of the color started to come back into Harry's cheeks.

"I just . . .wanted to see them once more . . ." Harry whispered, his teeth chattering. Sudden tears stung his eyes.

Severus shook his head. "Never mind. You're lucky I found you when I did. Forgive me for striking you, but you wouldn't wake up any other way. I'll put some healing balm on your cheek once we get back to my quarters. You need a hot bath and some PepperUp potion, warm pajamas, about a dozen hot water bottles and—bloody hell, what are you doing without shoes on? Must I Stick them to your feet? Perhaps you need a Remembrall like Longbottom?"

Harry yawned again, letting Snape's scolding drift over him like a warm breeze. "Sorry. I forgot."

Severus rolled his eyes. "Merlin grant me patience!" he strode rapidly from the room, Harry cradled close. "After I make sure you're not going to die of hypothermia and talk to Albus about that cursed mirror—"

"The mirror was cursed?"

"Yes. Surely you don't think that blue mist was accidentally put there to suck all the warmth from you?"

"I saw my parents . . ."

"I'm sure you did. Whoever set that spell was fiendishly clever, to tie the original magic of the mirror to this curse. You were beginning to fade, if I hadn't come when I did, you would have . . .you might have died . . ."

"I would? I didn't know . . .I was with my parents, my mum was holding me, she wanted me to stay with her. Dad too . . ." He trailed off, tears falling down his cheeks.

"Harry, that wasn't real. It was all part of the spell, to trick you into surrendering to the dark magic. The only peace you would have found would be the eternal peace of the grave," Snape said, not unkindly.

"Are you sure?" Harry sniffled.

"Positive." He gently wiped away the boy's tears with his thumb. "I'm not entirely certain who set that curse, but I have an idea. I need the Headmaster to confirm it, however . . ." He glanced down at his ward. "How are you feeling now? A little warmer?"

"Yes, sir. Thanks."

Snape made a noncommittal noise. "After you're out of danger, you and I need to have a very long talk."

"Okay, professor." Harry murmured, he was feeling very tired. "Can I go to sleep now?"

"Try and remain awake for a little longer. I need to get some potions into you first."

Harry tried, but found himself drifting, lulled into a doze by the warmth of the black cloak wrapped about him and way Severus was holding him close in his arms.

He was shaken awake as soon as Severus reached his quarters, when Snape set him down in bed and gave him several drafts which made him warm from the inside out. Snape ran a bath for him and let Harry soak in it for about twenty minutes, after applying the salve to his face. The faint imprint of the professor's hand faded away as Harry looked in the mirror. Harry touched his face in awe. Magic really was wonderful, especially the healing kind.

A knock sounded at the door.

"Harry, you need to come out before you fall asleep in there and drown," came the professor's voice, only slightly snarky.

"Whatever you say, sir," Harry mumbled, rising reluctantly from the warm water and dressing in his warmest set of pajamas.

Snape had his bed turned down and Harry slid into it. Then the professor placed several quilts over him and tucked a hot water bottle against his feet, which were now wearing thick socks.

"Warmer now?"

"Lots." Harry wriggled his feet in pleasure. He felt deliciously warm and cozy. "How come you don't use a spell to warm me up?"

"You've already been exposed to too much magic for one day. I don't want to overload your system and besides, the ordinary way works just as well." Snape snapped his fingers and a thermometer appeared in his hand. "Open up. I need to take your temperature, make sure it's back to normal."

Harry obeyed. The glass thermometer felt cool under his tongue.

"Keep that there until I return." Severus departed to summon Albus by Floo and inform him of what had just occurred. If his hunch was correct, the mirror had been cursed by Voldemort himself, using Ginny as the vehicle for his magic. The only question Snape had not figured out the answer to was why.

After speaking with Albus, Severus returned to Harry's room and removed the thermometer. He examined it, noting with relief that Harry's temperature was now normal. "You're back to normal. Are you hungry?"

Harry shook his head.

"When did you last eat?"

"This morning. But after I was sick and I still don't feel like eating."

Severus gave him a Stomach Soother and then a cup of broth. "Drink that all and then you can sleep. Don't worry, I'll be right here. The Headmaster is examining the mirror."

"It was a trap," the boy murmured, sipping the herb-infused chicken broth. "For me."

"Very likely. But it's broken now. You can stop worrying about it."

"Are you sure?"

"Harry, no one at this school knows more about dark curses than I do. It's the only advantage I ever gained from my days as a Death Eater," Snape said wryly.

"Besides knowing how best to fight them," Harry added.

"That too. We'll discuss that later. Finish your broth."

Harry did. There was much they needed to talk about, but right then he was so tired he couldn't even string two thoughts together, much less converse intelligently. He handed the mug back to Snape and then snuggled down under the covers. Within minutes he was asleep, never realizing that his sneaky guardian had slipped him a Mickey Finn in the form of a few drops of Dreamless Sleep mixed in with the chicken broth, ensuring him a deep and healing sleep.

Snape left Harry slumbering and returned to his sitting room, where he wrapped his cloak about himself and leaned back into the plump silver gray sofa cushions, waiting for Dumbledore to come and tell him his findings. For that was Dumbledore's specialty, being able to trace magical signatures of spells back to the caster. Snape crossed one booted foot over the other and waited, thanking all the powers that be that he had reached Harry in time.

"How is Harry?" asked Dumbledore as he entered Snape's quarters through the Floo.

Severus looked up at the Headmaster, his mouth tightening. "He's asleep for now. What have you found out?"

The Headmaster seated himself on the sofa and stroked his beard. "The curse was indeed set by Voldemort, or rather his essence, using Ginny Weasley as his mouthpiece. I found both her signature upon the mirror and overshadowing it, Tom's. She would not have been able to cast a spell of such magnitude without his help, he gave her his spiritual power and that enabled her to set the curse upon the mirror."

A silent quiver passed through the Potions Master as he thought of the innocent young girl being violated by that evil sorcerer. "You need to speak with her parents, Albus. She ought to see a Mind Healer, such a thing leaves scars upon your spirit, invisible ones, but they should be addressed. Nothing which that bastard has touched comes away unscathed."

Dumbledore nodded. "Yes, I shall do so. You are correct, Severus."

"Have you thought about why he might have set the curse upon the mirror? Was it a trap he set for Harry or just a mere malicious whim?"

"Oh no, I believe it was deliberate. Ginny released the basilisk from the Chamber on Tom's urgings, but he wished perhaps to make certain that his "great enemy", Harry, was destroyed for good. You see, Tom would have known that unless Harry met the basilisk's gaze directly or was bitten by it, he might survive the attack and live to thwart him. So he used the mirror, knowing the fascination it held for Harry."

"How would he know that?"

"Through Ginny, of course. Her brother Ron must have mentioned it sometime, Harry had shown him the mirror last year, over the Christmas holiday. Tom would have thought it the perfect vehicle for his second curse."

Severus scowled. "Once again Weasley flaps his big mouth and reveals things he shouldn't. Someone really needs to tell the boy to learn how to keep his mouth shut, he babbles far too much about everything to everyone."

"Severus, he's only a boy . . ."

"Yes, and one who needs to be taught when to speak and when to hold his tongue!" snapped the other. "He is partially to blame for the mess I'm in now with Harry. Had he not opened his fat mouth, informing Harry that I was once a Death Eater, Harry would not have been compelled to seek out my background." Severus shook his head in disgust.

"Severus, I'm sure he meant well, he was worried about Harry . . ."

"Albus, the road to hell is paved with good intentions. Look at what he has done, putting Harry's life in danger by speaking of things best left alone. How was it that you didn't destroy the mirror after the Stone was regained?"

"I did not think it too important to destroy such an old magical object, so I removed it from the Room of Requirement and put it into the Room of Lost Things. Who would have thought Harry would discover it again?"

"Riddle did. Perhaps it called to him or something. The curse was designed with him in mind, after all."

"Yes, and it was lucky you found him when you did."

"It was not luck that brought me there, but a Monitoring Charm. After last time, I was taking no chances with him. Trouble seems to follow him like a black shadow. As you can see."

"I have destroyed what remained of the mirror," Dumbledore told him. "Though you shattered the curse, I too am taking no chances."

"That is good. Might I suggest you examine some of the older magical artifacts stored here, make certain none of them have been tampered with?"

"An excellent idea. I shall do that, it will keep me occupied for the rest of the break. Is he well? Were there any side effects of the curse?"

"Not that I can determine. He should be fine after some rest."

Dumbledore seemed relieved to hear that, and after a few more minutes discussing Severus' brewing results, the Headmaster took his leave.

Snape decided to go to bed, after eating a brief supper, he was tired after the events of the day.

SWSWSWSW

Harry woke feeling refreshed and warm, cozy warm, all the way down to his toes. He couldn't recall ever feeling so snug, except that time in the Wise One's cave, pillowed atop the great serpent. He peered at the small clock upon the nightstand, it was just eight o'clock, rather early. He thought about turning over and going back to sleep, but nature called, so he reluctantly left his warm nest and headed into the small bathroom. As a Head of House, Snape's quarters featured a private bath, along with a sitting room and bedroom, plus a small room where Snape stored potions and spellbooks, a combination of library and stillroom. And now Harry's room as well, with its charmed window that revealed the outdoors and the weather currently occurring.

When Harry glanced at it, he saw that it was a sunny morning, and the lake was still covered with frost. Severus said all the dorms had these false views, because otherwise students in his House might get stircrazy and feel as though they were imprisoned in the dungeons below the lake. Harry was grateful for them, he had spent too long locked away in a small cupboard to ever be truly comfortable without seeing glimpses of sky and sun.

After attending to his immediate needs, Harry returned to his room, deciding to go back to sleep, when Hedwig swooped in and delivered a letter to him. Harry eagerly tore it open, the return address was from Hermione.

He quickly unfolded the paper, it was written upon a pale blue stationary with a ballpoint, not a quill. Harry smiled, guessing that Hermione had probably wanted to reply to him as quickly as possible, and ballpoints enabled one to write very quickly, not having to worry about inkblots and worn down nubs or drying ink.

Dear Harry,

I was quite happy to receive your letter, it's the first one I've gotten this holiday, since Ron never remembers to write me back. But I have to say, I never expected what was in it. So, you're a Parselmouth. I've read about them, of course, and thought it would be fascinating to be able to talk to snakes, think about all the things one could learn, like how they live and what they think about humans, and oh, how I wish I could speak to some kind of animal! Are snakes smart? I mean, I know the Wise One is, but she's something like a goddess, sort of, and can't really be compared to an ordinary snake. When you speak, does your voice sound different? Do you have to think about how to say something, like I do when I try and speak French to someone, or does it just flow from you? I would love to hear you say something in Parseltongue. Can you write it?

Sorry, I'm rambling. But I think your ability is so neat, you shouldn't be ashamed of it. Just because You-Know-Who had it doesn't mean it's evil. It's something to be proud of.

I wish I could meet both your Wise One and the basilisk, Icefyre. They sound very powerful and awe-inspiring. I would have never guessed Salazar Slytherin had a basilisk for a familiar. That's simply amazing! And you made him a friend and he killed Voldemort! I read about that in the papers, and Ginny's rescue too! Poor kid! She must have been scared half to death. Do you think I could talk with the serpents when I come back? I have dozens of questions I'd like to ask.

Here Harry paused and chuckled, he could just imagine the tons of questions the inquisitive witch had. She would probably keep the Wise One and Icefyre busy answering them for the whole day. Then he moved on to read what she had suggested about Snape and his dilemma about forgiving the wizard for what he had done.

About Professor Snape . . . I have always thought he seemed rather gloomy and sad, haunted almost, as if he had something tragic in his past that he never could forget. I know, you must think I'm out of my head or something, but I really did feel that. Despite his temper and sarcasm, I've always thought he had suffered something awful, because people just aren't so bitter by nature, something has to happen to them to make them that way.

Guess I was right. I never figured he had actually become a Death Eater, but it does make sense now that you've told me. From what you said, I think you really need to talk to him, hear his side of the story. It's not fair to judge until you've heard both sides. I would think that he regrets what happened that night, he may have been forced into bringing such a message, and without knowing just who the prophecy referred to, figured it was nothing but a silly hoax.

I know how hard it must be for you to accept that, and just want you to remember that despite his past, he did come back to the Light and he did save your life three times. That's not the act of an evil man. I think it's a good thing for him to be your guardian, you both need someone, and like you said, he can protect you best. Plus, your relatives were awful nasty prigs and cruel.

I think you ought to give him a second chance, and hear him out. If he truly regrets what he's done, and it sounds as if he does, then you ought to forgive him. He has changed for the better. He seems to care for you very much, even to the point of risking his own life.

If it'll make it any easier, I have an uncle who was once the disgrace of our family. My mum's brother, Jack, was a wild thing when he was a young man, he did all sorts of bad things—drank, stole, even did drugs. It got so bad that nobody in the family wanted anything to do with him. Finally, he ended up in jail for three years. When he came out, he decided to make a go of turning his life around. He got a job, rented a flat, and tried to reconnect with the family again. It was hard at first, but gradually, my mum and her sister and parents came to accept that he had changed and was trying to become a better person. They eventually forgave him and now he comes to our house on holidays and is my favorite relative. I never knew him when he was drinking or anything like that, and Mum only recently told me why he never touches alcohol and the other stuff, she said the rest wasn't fit for a kid's ears. Mum says that the Uncle Jack I know is the real Jack, the other one was a stranger, someone even he didn't want to know. She said sometimes people make bad decisions and keep making them because they can't see any other way out, they're stuck in a rut and can't seem to get free, until they see something besides the darkness within them. She said sometimes it takes a real shock to get them to see what they've become. But once they do, then they can start finding themselves again.

That's what Uncle Jack did and I'm guessing that's what Professor Snape did too.

The Wise One was right when she said that hating someone only makes you miserable. Don't hurt yourself anymore, Harry. Forgive him. He's spent half his life paying for a terrible mistake. Why make him pay any more? Nothing can change the past, but maybe together you can change the future.

That's all I can say. Hope it helped.

Best wishes,

Your friend,

Hermione

PS: Can you ask Professor Snape why you have to stir the cauldron seven and a half times when you're brewing a Deflating Draft? Isn't that agitating the solution too much? It doesn't tell you in our book.

The last line made him smile. Trust Hermione to still be studying her textbooks over break! Some things never changed.

He mulled over what his friend had said about forgiveness and concluded that she was smarter than most people gave her credit for. She knew that Snape had given him the one thing he had never had and always wanted—a family and a place to call home. It would be a cruel twist of fate if he lost that because he was too stubborn to forgive his guardian. He was almost positive that even if he didn't forgive Snape, the Potions Master would still allow him to stay, but he didn't want to be uncomfortable and awkward, like he'd been at the Dursleys. He wanted to have a normal home.

He decided to do as everyone suggested and hear Snape's side of the story before making a decision.

Then he tucked the letter away and fell back to sleep.

He woke up some two hours later to Snape shaking his shoulder and asking if he was feeling all right and did he want breakfast?

Harry was ravenous and after they had eaten breakfast, delivered to Snape's quarters by a house elf, he looked at his guardian and said, "Sir, if you'd like to talk to me about . . .the prophecy and all, I'm ready to listen."

Severus looked faintly surprised, he had thought he would be the one to initiate this discussion. He nodded and said, "Might I suggest we have this conversation in the sitting room?"

Harry followed his guardian to the comfortable sitting room and curled up with his feet tucked under him on one side of the sofa. Severus sat on the other side, looking both somewhat relieved and somewhat uneasy.

Harry folded his hands in his lap and waited.

Severus was silent for several moments, gathering his thoughts. At last he began.

"You already know that I did not have the best childhood. My father detested my magic and the fact that I chose it over sports that a normal boy of his should have chosen. He took that disappointment and aggression out on me whenever he could, and if I weren't available, my mother was. Like you, I wished I could remain at school indefinitely, and never more so than after the end of fifth year.

"Albus told you of the cruel joke your father and his friends played upon me, did he not?"

"Yes, sir. He said that they . . .err . . .hexed you two on one and hung you upside down and threatened to . . .strip you." Harry blushed. "That's just wrong. It sounds like something my cousin Dudley would do. Once he shoved my head in the toilet at school."

Severus grimaced. "They did more than threaten, Harry. Like your cousin, they did not know the meaning of enough. Your mother, who was my friend, tried to defend me to them, she nearly hexed Black and Pettigrew, but somehow that just made things worse. Not only was I a wimp, but I was now seen as hiding behind a girl's robes. I had been humiliated before by the Marauders, but never like that. In my wretched humiliation I did an unforgivable thing, I told Lily I didn't need any damn Mudblood defending me. My temper has always been unpredictable and that day it flared up and I spoke words that never should have passed my lips.

"I regretted that the moment I said it. But when I went to apologize to her later, she would have none of me. She told me if I was going to go to hell in a handbasket, I could do it without her. She accused me of becoming a dark wizard, just like many of my House."

"But you weren't, right?"

"No, not then. After Lily broke away with me, however, I allowed myself to listen to the propaganda spouted by many of the Voldemort supporters. I was miserable and over the summer, my mother passed away. I was without friends and family. I was alone and they knew I was desperate to belong somewhere. They offered me their protection if I would join them. At first I refused. Until the incident with the werewolf. After I was almost killed, I knew I couldn't afford to be so vulnerable ever again.

"I did not particularly care for many of them, they were crude, most were stupid, and they also enjoyed bullying those weaker than they. But some, like Lucius Malfoy, were also clever and wielded a lot of influence in the wizarding world. People respected him, and they were also afraid of him. He gave me his protection and in return I attended the meetings he hosted.

"You must understand, I was a bitter and angry young man, with no one to confide in and no one to trust. I felt that I was worthless, and so being with the Death Eaters, even though I hated many of the things they did, was the best I could do. At least with them I was no longer a target for harassment. That was why I stayed. And once I began learning the dark magic . . . the dark spells are like a drug, you learn some, and the power fills you, gets into the dark spaces of your soul, and before you know it, it seduces you, leaves you craving more and more.

"That was how it was for me in the first few months. The dark magic also made me cold, it inhibits your feelings of compassion, of sympathy, you become detatched, unable to feel any good emotions. It encourages all the negative emotions—rage, intolerance, fear, hate. In a way it's addictive, like the worst Muggle drug."

Harry's eyes went wide. "But then . . .how did you get free from it?"

"It was very difficult. But I had one advantage that others did not. I refused to use the Unforgivables. And in doing so I saved my soul from perdition. The use of an Unforgivable Curse, like the Killing Curse used upon your parents, or the Cruciatus Curse, used on many wizards and witches who were targeted by Voldemort, leaves a black stain upon your aura and your spirit. I shied away from them, and used other dark magic. Also, the Dark One used my talents as a potion maker to make several kinds of potions for him, some were used for interrogation, others to enhance his magic, or to heal rapidly.

"He was evil, but also fiendishly clever. He knew best how to manipulate me, who was starved for affection and recognition. He played me like a lute, and I responded to that praise by doing whatever he wished. I was a pathetic fool. He needed a spy in the camp of the enemy, and chose me. He sent me to Hogsmeade to learn what I could of their plans. That was where I overheard the prophecy."

Severus paused for several minutes, getting up and getting a drink of water. Harry waited patiently for his return. While he waited, he thought about what Snape had told him. In a way, he felt they were kindred spirits, for he too had known endless persecution at the hands of Dudley and his gang, and had a rotten home life. He too had known despair and depression and felt unworthy and unloved for much of his life. At Hogwarts he had made his first real friends, though he now had his doubts about Ron. Ron had a blind prejudice against Slytherins and anything associated with them, and Snape in particular. Harry didn't know how he could get past that, or even if that were possible. Ron would never understand, the way Harry did instinctively, that terrible feeling of loneliness and desperation that had driven the young Severus into the clutches of darkness. Ron had never known what it was to be an outcast, and how it could destroy your sense of self. But Harry knew. Harry had never belonged anywhere until Hogwarts. If someone had asked him to join a gang, though that sort of thing was not really done in Surrey, Harry thought he might have been tempted to join it, if only to escape Dudley's fists. There had been many times after one of Dudley's beatings that he had wished to give his cousin a taste of his own medicine.

It made him even angrier to think that his own father had been a bully like Dudley, and had tormented students and thought it amusing. Harry supposed it might have seemed that way to everyone save Snape. He could recall everyone laughing when Dudley tripped and shoved him, making him spill his lunch tray or books, calling him Peewee Potter, Clumsy Arse, and Freaky Harry, among other things. It was always funny to those who weren't on the receiving end. Harry wondered what had caused his bullying father to change. Perhaps his mother had insisted upon it? Then he shrugged. It hardly mattered now. What was done, was done.

Severus returned after a few moments and continued his story.

"I remember that night well. It was, to quote an old cliché, a dark and stormy night in August, not a fit night out for man or beast. I had dropped into the Hogs Head for a cup of warm cider with a dash of rum, there weren't many patrons in there and I wanted to get out of the wet. I had been instructed by Lucius Malfoy to listen to any rumors and try and pick up any interesting tidbits of information being spoken of. I had further been told by Riddle himself that I was to try and apply for a teaching post at Hogwarts—the Defense Against the Dark Arts position.

"I had spoken to the Headmaster earlier and was planning on meeting him later on in the week to discuss the position. Imagine my surprise when he showed up at the Hog's Head also. I seized my chance and approached him, he ended up giving me the position of Potions Master, since Slughorn had just retired and he recalled that I was excellent in that area. I tried to get him to give me the Dark Arts position, fearing the wrath of Riddle if I failed, but he refused, telling me that the position was not one for a new teacher, rumor had it that it was cursed and I would do much better in potions. We had been conducting the interview upstairs in a small private room, and just as I was leaving, Trelawney, who teaches Divination here, came in. She had been searching for Dumbledore and finally found him, she was late for her own interview." Severus shook his head. "Then again, Trelawney would be late to her own funeral. She rushed in, nearly knocked me down, and started babbling about how sorry she was that she was late and that she had something extremely important to tell Albus, a matter of life and death, as she put it. I was on my way out when I caught that, and figured I might as well see what she had to say. I shut the door behind me and then made believe I was going down the stairs, but then made my way back up and cast a charm upon myself called Cat's Ears, which gave me hearing as keen as a cat's. That was when I overheard the prophecy.

"At first I was unsure what to think. Soothsayers are a dime a dozen and those Seers who can actually predict true are rarer than water in the desert. Still, it sounded interesting. I was obligated to report any information concerning Riddle to him or Malfoy. I committed what I'd heard to memory, then slipped away, just missing running into Aberforth on the stairs, who owned the establishment. Later on I learned there was more to the prophecy than I had heard, for Trelawney had gone into a second trance and spoke the rest of it.

"I waited for a day and a night before telling Lucius, because I was uncertain if it was a real prophecy or the ramblings of a charlatan trying to get in good with the Headmaster. Finally I decided to tell him about it, if it was fake, it was hardly my fault and if it wasn't . . ." He repeated the prophecy to Harry then. "You can see how vague it is. Nowhere did it mention anything about whose child it was. If it had said anything about Lily or hinted at her child, I would have never told anyone. But I assumed it was a fake, and it would come to nothing.

"It was only when Voldemort summoned me some two days later to discuss the particulars that I realized he believed it was real. He became obsessed with finding the one who would destroy him, searching for those who had "thrice defied" him with a vengeance. Months went by, and still he searched and searched. He could not rest. He could not bear it that there would be someone who could topple him.

"Finally he narrowed down the choices available to your family and the Longbottoms, whose son Neville had also been born at the end of July, a day before you were."

"Really? I never knew that."

"Once I learned that, I was horrified. I knew, none better, that when the Dark Lord choose to mark you for death, you died. No one had ever defeated him in a duel, and he was the most powerful sorcerer I had ever known, strong, ruthless, and deadly. Still, I tried to rectify my mistake. I tried to suggest that it was a fake, to no avail. Riddle was convinced it was a true prophecy and the Potters had to die.

"I tried to reason with him, but there is no reasoning with a madman. He is always right.

"I was frantic. I had done a terrible thing and I was desperate for help. I had seen what Voldemort did with his victims, he sometimes played with them before he killed them, and I felt ill thinking about Lily or you being subject to torture. I had to warn them, but I hadn't spoken to Lily in years.

It was while I was making up my mind who to tell, who would believe me, that I realized something. I was not truly a Death Eater. I did not worship Voldemort, was not devoted to him like so many of the others. They believed he set the sun in the sky and when he spoke it was as if God Himself came down to the earth. But I did not worship him. I knew he was a powerful sorcerer, but he was not a god. I respected and feared him because of his temper and power, but I was not utterly subject to his will.

"It was then that I came back to myself and realized what I had done was catastrophic and I hated myself for what I had become. I was destroying myself with dark magic just as surely as my father destroyed himself with alcohol. I had to get out, had to save Lily, and so I went to Dumbledore.

"I told him all, and then he questioned me under Veritaserum to make sure I wasn't lying. I asked him to allow me to atone for what I had done, and he told me all he asked was that I work for him as a counteragent. I agreed. I have been doing so for years."

"Wait a minute. If you told Dumbledore about what you did, and he warned my parents, then why did they die? I thought you told him too late for them do anything about it." Harry exclaimed.

Severus shook his head. "No. Your parents went into hiding in Godric's Hollow in September and they were placed under a powerful spell called the Fidelius Charm. In it they have a Secret Keeper, who alone knows their location and can find them, anyone of evil intent searching for them will never find them, they could walk past the house a dozen times and never even see it. We all thought they were safe, but they were betrayed again, this time by their trusted friend, Sirius Black. He was James' best friend and stood as godfather to you."

Severus' lip curled. "Who knows why Black betrayed them, but the fact remained that he did, and revealed the location of the cottage to Voldemort on Halloween night. Once he had broken his word, Voldemort could find the cottage. I just managed to get word to Dumbledore that he was coming, but it was too little too late. I failed and he destroyed them. It was the worst mistake of my life, the revealing of that prophecy, and I never wished you to know about it until later.

"I killed your mother as surely as if I had put a wand to her chest and cast the Killing Curse. I have had to live with that guilt everyday, and there is nothing I regret more. Nothing." Their eyes met and Harry saw in Snape's obsidian gaze a pain as deep as the ocean, and regret enough to drown in. Severus folded his hands and said softly, "Now you have heard the truth from my own lips. I kept it from you because I felt it was too much for you to accept at this time, not because I wished to pretend it never happened. I know I shall never be able to atone for it, and do not expect you to forgive me for it. But at least you know the truth. If you . . ." Severus coughed abruptly. " . . . wish me to rescind the guardianship and search for another candidate, I shall do so, rather than have you remain with someone you detest."

"You mean you don't want me?" Harry cried plaintively, the words bursting from him unexpectedly.

"No. Do you think I would have applied for guardianship if I did not want you?" Severus asked. "But I don't wish for you to be forced to live with me, to make you as wretched as you were living with the Dursleys. You do not deserve that. So you may leave, I shall not hold you here."

"What if. . . I don't want to leave?"

"You would rather stay with the murdering bastard?"

"No! I mean . . . yes! I'm sorry I ever said that. But I was so mad, I thought you did it on purpose, but then I talked with the Wise One and Icefyre and even Dumbledore told me I shouldn't judge you too harshly. I've been thinking about it ever since yesterday, about what you were and what you are now."

"You spoke to the serpents about me?"

"Yes, sir. I'm sorry, but I really needed someone to talk to, so I told them . . . and Hermione."

"You told Miss Granger about this?" Severus snapped. "Name of Merlin, but are you sure you're not a Weasley?"

"She won't tell anyone. I made her swear not to, on her wand."

"And after all this discussion, what have you decided?"

"That you're not a murdering bastard. You made a horrible mistake and it cost me everything, but you've done what you can to help me since. You saved my life three times or more and third time pays all debts. I don't want another guardian. There's nobody else who understands what it's like for me. Only you. Whatever you were, you're not the same now." Harry took a deep breath. "I forgive you, sir. Now don't you think you ought to try forgiving yourself?"

Severus was speechless. For the first and only time in his life. He had never dreamed that Harry would accept his mistake, that he was capable of forgiving to such an extent. But the boy's words, spoken in utter sincerity, showed him the error of his ways. He stared into the green eyes, which were bright with understanding and longing, and whispered two words.

"Thank you."

Harry gave him a tentative smile. He knew he had taken the first and most important step in mending their relationship. Acting on impulse, he reached out and hugged the Potions Master.

A startled Severus cautiously returned the hug. Truly the boy was amazing. The best of both of his parents. You're luckier than you deserve, Snape, whispered his conscience. And for the first time since that fateful night, Severus Snape knew peace. All because of one small boy.

His fingers tightened on the slender shoulders and he pulled Harry to him, holding him against his shoulder. He knew he still had a long way to go to regain the boy's trust in him. But that was all right. Harry had done something no one had ever done for him before. He had forgiven him utterly, without conditions. And that was priceless.

They remained that way for a long time, reveling in the newfound peace they had found, and the only sound in the room was the soft crackle of the fire and the ticking of the clock upon the mantle.

Finally Harry drew away from his guardian's embrace, though he longed to linger there, he didn't want to make Severus feel awkward or uncomfortable. He had a funny feeling that Snape wasn't used to getting hugged much, Harry hadn't been either until he had met Hermione and Mrs. Weasley, who liked hugging people. Thinking of Hermione reminded him of the post script at the end of her letter and he said, "Professor? Hermione had a question she wanted to ask you. She's been studying some over break and wanted to know why you need to stir the cauldron seven and a half times when you're brewing a Deflating Draft? Isn't that agitating the solution too much? It doesn't tell you in our book."

To Harry's surprise, Snape did not seem annoyed. "I shall write her with the answer. I shouldn't be surprised Miss Granger is using her free time to study. Do you know the answer to that question?"

Harry shook his head.

"Ah. The answer to why is because the solution must be well blended and anything less than seven and a half times won't be enough. Some solutions need to be agitated more than usual in order to brew properly. Remember that, won't you?"

"I will, sir." Harry went to sit down again on the couch.

They sat quietly for a few moments before Severus said, "Now that you know the truth of my past, I would ask you use your discretion and do not mention anything about this to any more of your friends or acquaintances. I trust that Granger and the serpents will keep their mouths shut, but I cannot say the same about Ron Weasley."

"I understand. But Ron already knows you were a Death Eater."

"I was never convicted as one, at my trial, Dumbledore vouched for me and I was given a verdict of not guilty. It's all there in the transcripts in the Auror Department. So Weasley suspects, he does not know the truth. And I am ordering you not to tell him. I trust you to keep my past where it belongs . . . in the past."

"What if he asks me again about it?"

"You tell him about the trial transcript and say the subject is closed." Severus said firmly.

"Not a problem, sir." Harry sighed. "I just wish that Ron wasn't so . . ."

Snape raised an eyebrow. "So indiscreet?"

"Well, yes, but it's not just that. He . . .when he found out that you were my guardian he . . . it was almost as if he were looking for reasons to make me hate you. He kept saying that I couldn't trust a Slytherin and even after I told him why I trusted you, he still couldn't accept it. That's when he told me about you being a Death Eater."

"The rivalry between Gryffindors and Slytherins is long and bitter, Harry. It only grew worse with the rise of Voldemort and now it has become almost expected for Gryffindor to despise Slytherin and vice versa. Weasley's whole family have been Gryffindors, and they were marked as blood traitors by Voldemort because they were purebloods who supported and tolerated Muggleborns. So it comes as no surprise that young Weasley regards me as the worst possible guardian for you. No doubt he would prefer it if you lived with him at the Burrow, among others of your kind."

Harry was astonished. How had Snape known that? "He did offer me that, but I told him it'd be no good. I mean, I like his family and all, but . . .there's no privacy there and I know money's tight with them and I need . . .I just need some space to myself."

"You couldn't expect that over there, not with five children still at home," Severus agreed.

"I know. But Ron doesn't want to understand. I think he's jealous that now I have somebody besides him that I want to spend time with, somebody who's a wizard and knows more than he does."

"That may very well be. As the youngest son, he is perhaps overlooked at times, and may feel that I would advise you to spend less time with him, or even forbid you to be friends with him."

"You wouldn't, would you?"

"No. Your friends are your own choice . . . unless they are the sort of friends who will lead you astray. Then I would tell you not to see them again. Weasley might get up to foolish pranks, but he is not one to dabble in forbidden magic. His parents raised him right. However, while I understand his antipathy towards me, I'll not tolerate any disrespect from him. Am I clear?"

"Yes, sir. I wouldn't let him badmouth you. He might not like you, but that doesn't make it okay to be smart with you. After all, you're like my father now, and I would never do that to Mr. Weasley."

Harry's loyalty touched Snape profoundly. "That is well, for should you ever do so, you would be in serious trouble with me."

"You don't need to tell me that. I just wish I could make him see past his prejudice."

"That is a difficult thing to do, and I will tell you this, you cannot make a person change, Harry, unless that person wants to change."

Harry thought about that. He supposed Severus was right, and Ron had to make up his own mind about Harry and Snape. All Harry could do was hope the other boy saw reason. And if not . . . Harry decided he'd cross that bridge when he came to it. Right then he had a few other things to discuss with his guardian.

"What about me being a Parselmouth? And the two of us being Slytherin's Heirs? People are bound to find out now. What should we do about it?"

"We can go on as we did before. And people will either accept us for who and what we are, or not. If not, and they attempt to harass you, come and see me immediately. Though I doubt that will be the case, not once they know the true story of Salazar and the basilisk, who killed Voldemort. I plan to publish Salazar's journals in a special edition for a limited time. So the true story of our ancestor shall be known, and the misconceptions and lies erased forever. I believe he would want that."

"What about the Wise One and Icefyre?"

"They are old enough to look out for themselves, and I highly doubt even the most rabid snake hater will try and attack them. Besides which, the forest is a preserve for magical animals, and any wizard who sets foot in there knows not to hunt the animals. Only one ever broke that rule, and he is dead. Hopefully, what Icefyre did will counteract the usual fear towards serpents and make him a kind of hero."

"And if it doesn't, then they'll have us to deal with."

Severus smiled wolfishly. "Just so, young apprentice."

Harry's next item was a bit awkward, but he persevered. "Umm . . .sir . . .now that you're my guardian . . .should I call you something besides professor? Outside of class, I mean?"

Severus hadn't considered that, but now that he thought about it, Harry had a point. "You may use my given name, Severus, when we are in private. Use it in class and you'll have detention for a week."

"Okay . . . Severus." Harry said, trying it out. It slid rather easily off his tongue. "Does your name mean something, sir?"

"Yes. It is Latin, and means "severe", it is the name of both a Roman Emperor and a saint. My mother chose it because it was a family name, my great grandfather was named Severus."

"Oh. I wonder why I was named Harry?"

"Your grandfather was named that. On your mother's side. Only he was Henry, and your grandmother called him Hal for short. Your mother always said that if her firstborn were a son, he would be named after her father. And if it were a girl, she would call her Eleanor, or Nell for short."

"Then I'm glad I was born a boy. You sure had some odd conversations."

"We were eight, and eight-year-old girls discuss anything and everything with their best friends." Severus remarked. "Believe me, I did not bring that topic up." He abruptly changed the subject. "When we leave for the summer, we can discuss your summer chores. They won't be anything like what you were accustomed to with your relatives, but I do not believe you should be allowed to wallow away your summer holidays. Since I do not have a house elf, household chores are done by the both of us."

"That makes sense. Speaking of house elves . . . there was a house elf named Dobby that came to me at the beginning of the year and insisted I not go back to Hogwarts, that it wasn't safe . . ." Harry quickly detailed all of the things Dobby had done to prevent him from coming and later encourage him to leave early. "I don't know why he was like that, Severus. Is that normal behavior for one of them?"

"No. Normally a house elf will not act without permission from his master. And that particular elf . . . belongs to an old pureblood family, who has no love for you."

"Who are they?"

"The Malfoys."

Harry gaped at his mentor. "The Malfoys house elf wanted to save my life?"

"It would appear so. Though the manner in which he tried to do so might have ended it instead." Severus shook his head.

"Yeah, tell me about it. Hermione told me that house elves are like slaves. But slavery's illegal here."

"True, but many customs of the wizarding world are outdated. Centuries ago, most pureblood families bound their house elves, to keep their servants in perpetuity. Some say that the elves agreed to this, for they needed to work for a family, it was an integral part of their nature. Others disagreed and said that binding a house elf was inhumane and house elves should be freed. The debate raged for years, until one of the Ministers of Magic declared the bonding of house elves to be a private matter. So it remains to this day."

"But don't you think it's wrong? I do."

"I have never agreed with the practice, however there is little I can do to change the customs of generations at this time."

"But can't they be freed, somehow?"

"Yes. If their master gives them clothing. Then the bond is broken."

"Clothing? Like a shirt or trousers?"

"Anything. It could be socks, a tie, a glove, even underwear."

Harry started giggling at the thought of giving Dobby a pair of Draco's boxers. But he soon sobered and asked, "Does it have to be their master who gives it, or can it be anyone with an article of the master's clothing?"

Severus' eyes narrowed. "Harry James Potter, what are you up to?"

Harry gave him an innocent look. "Up to? Nothing. I was just curious."

"Curious my silver cauldron!" snorted the Potions Master. "You are plotting something in that head of yours and I am warning you now, it's never wise to interfere with the Malfoys. Especially Lucius. He is not one to cross."

"I'll be careful, sir."

Severus sighed. "The article of clothing does not have to be the master's though it's more effective if it belongs to a family member. But it does have to be a family member who gives it. And Lucius Malfoy would be boiled in oil before he freed Dobby. That elf has served his family for centuries."

Harry scowled. "Yeah, he told me about how he has to iron his hands and beat himself if he speaks badly about his master's family. That's just sick. There ought to be a law against it."

"Yes. Perhaps someday there will be." Severus laid a hand upon his ward's shoulder. "Harry, there are many injustices in the wizarding world. Don't attempt to fight them alone. You'll lose."

"I wasn't going to. I was going to ask if you'd help me."

Both eyebrows rose. "You wish me to help you con Lucius Malfoy out of his house elf?"

Harry smirked. "Will you, Severus? It'll be a perfect Slytherin revenge, seeing as how he was the one who tried to make you Voldemort's slave all those years ago by joining the Death Eaters."

Severus' eyes gleamed. "You know, snakeling . . . you are right. Lucius owes me one. It would be most satisfying to know that Mr. High and Mighty Malfoy has to sweep his own floor and wash his own clothes for once. Very well. I shall write and invite him here, you procure the article of clothing and we shall hide it inside of something."

"How will we get Dobby to come with him?"

"I shall request that Lucius bring the elf with him, tell him I'm conducting a potions experiment and need a taster."

"Severus, that's awful!"

"I know. But Lucius won't think anything of it. Many purebloods often used their house elves like lab rats. If they die, they can always bond another." The Potions Master said matter-of-factly.

"Then what? We give Dobby the bag or whatever?"

"No, we give it to Lucius, who will then give it to Dobby to carry, since it's not done for a master to carry his own parcels when his elf is around." Severus corrected.

"And then Dobby will be free! Severus, you're bloody brilliant!"

"No, but the day I can't outsmart an arrogant aristocrat like Lucius will be the day I quit Hogwarts." The professor said, then added, "Mind your language, Mr. Potter. The Heir of Slytherin shouldn't swear like a sergeant."

"Sorry, sir." Harry apologized, but he couldn't stop grinning, imagining the Malfoys getting their due.

By then it was noon and Harry was starving. Severus called one of the Hogwarts elves and they ate lunch in their quarters. Over their Cornish pasties, Harry asked Severus when they could pull off the deception on Lucius.

Severus suggested that they wait until New Year's Eve, Lucius always had big New Year's party and tended to imbibe more than was good for him.

Once again, Harry marveled at how fiendishly clever his guardian was. He hoped everything would go according to plan.

SWSWSWSW

While Severus was having his heart to heart talk with Harry, Dumbledore decided to go and check on the Dursleys, make sure that the wheels of Muggle justice were turning. He had promised himself that he would make certain the Dursleys were made to pay for their crimes, one way or another. What they had done to Harry was unforgivable, they had had no reason to treat the boy that way, even if they were predisposed to dislike magic. Albus had paid Petunia a handsome stipend for Harry's upkeep, so they would have no cause to come whining that he cost them too much to live with them. And they had squandered the money on themselves and made Harry into a charity case, wearing his cousin's cast offs and living in a cupboard, bullied and treated like a slave.

The more he thought about it, the more distressed and guilty and angry he felt. He had thought he was doing the best for Harry, only to discover it had been the worst. Thank Merlin he had finally listened to Severus. Now he would make certain those responsible for hurting the boy were punished properly. He waved his wand and Transfigured his long robes into more suitable Muggle attire—a purple suit with a paisley tie and shiny spats and black sunglasses. He glanced at himself in the mirror and smiled. "Now I look like a cool cat, as they used to say. Time to make some noise."

He walked out of his office and down to the gates, then once he was past them, Apparated away to Privet Drive.

He discovered a For Sale sign on the house, and when he knocked on the door, Petunia opened it warily. She gasped when she saw him and slammed the door shut in his face. "Just go away!" she cried.

"Petunia, let me in."

"No! Haven't you done enough to us?" she said, her voice cracking.

Dumbledore knocked again. "Petunia, I suggest you let me in, unless you wish the neighbors to learn all of your private secrets."

The door was yanked open.

"Come in then, you bloody meddler! But don't expect me to offer you tea and biscuits!"

Dumbledore stepped inside.

The house was a wreck, dust everywhere and it looked as though no one had taken a mop or a broom to the floor in over a week. Petunia herself looked oddly worn and unkempt and then Dumbledore squinted, for overlaying her normal appearance was the image of a buzzard. Hmm . . .it seems Severus did have a last bit of revenge. Not that I blame him. He eyed Petunia sternly. "Where is your husband?"

"My husband?" she shrilled. "You dare ask about him after what you did?"

"What I did? Madam, I have done nothing."

"Don't lie to me, you black warlock! I know you and your kind and your sneaky ways!" she spat. "You put a spell on us. You or that bloody Snape! The day after you left, the police came here and they arrested Vernon, said there was proof of child abuse! They took him . . . away in handcuffs! Like he was a bloody criminal!" she wailed.

"He was a criminal, Petunia. What he did to that boy, your nephew, was inexcusable!" said the old wizard sternly. "I take it he's in jail?"

"Yes, and they've scheduled the trial for next week. But . . .they were all disgusted when they took him away, they kept saying he was a loathsome pig and he ought to have been carved up like a side of beef!" Petunia began sobbing. "It's all that wretched boy's fault! We should have given him to the orphan asylum after he started with his freaky tricks!"

"And why didn't you?" asked Dumbledore coldly. "Was it because you feared me, or because you feared losing the money he brought to you?"

"What do you care?" she snapped. "I want you to remove whatever foul spell you put on us, old man!"

Albus crossed his arms over his chest. "You are hardly in a position to make demands, Petunia. The spell shows you to be as selfish and cruel and wicked on the outside as you are on the inside. Quite fitting. What of your son?"

At that Petunia started crying again. "They came and . . . and took my Dudders away! Put him in some vile . . . foster home! They . . .they said I w-was an unfit mother . . .that I c-couldn't be t-t-trusted . . .poor Diddykins, he's all alone . . . probably wasting away . . .missing his family . . .Oh, how I wish I had never set eyes on Lily's brat! It's a pity he didn't blow up with the rest of them!"

Dumbledore's eyes hardened. "And that, madam, is why you wear the visage of a buzzard, the carrion eater of the bird world, for you treat your own flesh and blood no better than rubbish!"

Petunia fell to her knees. "Take the spell off, please! They sneered at my poor son, called him a fat hog, and heaven only knows what will become of us now! They might even press charges against me of neglect. They even questioned Marge and declared Ripper a public menace and put him down! Vernon lost his job and none of the neighbors will speak to us anymore. We used to be respectable. N-Now they point at me in the street and look down their noses and s-sneer at me."

"It's a hard thing, isn't it, to be known for what you truly are? But just remember, you brought this upon yourself, Petunia. Try and learn from it." He turned and made leave to go.

"Wait! Where are you going? Don't leave! I . . . I need you to take this spell off. Please!"

Dumbledore gave her a cursory glance. "I cannot. For I was not the one who cast it," he lied glibly.

"Then make that bastard Snape do it!"

"Severus does not obey me, madam. The curse will stick unless you change your ways. The choice, as always, is yours. Good day." And with that, he Apparated back to the school gates. Justice had been served.

SWSWSWSW

The next day at breakfast, Hedwig delivered a copy of the Daily Prophet to Harry and Severus and Dumbledore received one as well from the school owls. So had most of the rest of the students staying over break. Harry opened his copy.

Two headlines vied for attention on the front page and both of them had him as a subject. That in itself was not unusual, Harry had been the subject of rabid gossip before, especially after the incident with the Sorcerer's Stone. What was unusual was that for once he was not being painted as the "poor orphan who's a little delusional". The first article read:

Basilisk Not Monster, But Hero!

By Charles Arthur Weasley

Everyone's heard of the big bad basilisk, right? The monster whose gaze petrifies everyone and eats little children who are bad? Who's synonymous with evil and darkness, whose venom is the most potent poison known to the wizarding world? For centuries the basilisk has borne the reputation of a wicked monster, and it was rumored that one was trapped in the Chamber of Secrets beneath Hogwarts school by the evil sorcerer known as . . . Voldemort.

Yes, I have spoken HIS name. Why? Because he is dead, and can no longer be summoned by it. In fact, he was killed by the very monster we were discussing—a basilisk who calls itself Icefyre.

Icefyre was Salazar Slytherin's familiar long ago, and unlike the monster of legend, dwelled peaceably with humans and even protected them. The basilisk even had a special hood made by its master in order to be "safe" when playing with Salazar's children and students. Salazar, as you know, was a Parselmouth, as were his descendants—Tom Riddle, Severus Snape, and Harry Potter. Yes, the same Harry Potter who was made famous by surviving the Killing Curse can also speak to snakes.

When the basilisk Icefyre was released from the Chamber by Voldemort, it was Harry who discovered that the dark wizard had tricked it into believing that all Muggleborns were evil and out to kill it and all the purebloods. Harry managed to convince Icefyre that Voldemort had lied and the basilisk, who is highly intelligent, felt ashamed of what it had been made to do and vowed to go and hunt down the traitor heir.

I'm sure you've all heard the story where a basilisk saved the life of my sister and myself and was a direct cause of the demise of the most evil wizard the world has ever known. Harry Potter has confirmed that story, according to his mentor, Severus Snape, and has declared the basilisk a hero for its deeds.

I for one would love to meet this amazing serpent, who has honor and courage and cunning fit to rival the strongest wizards.

Basilisks are an endangered species, with many of them hunted and killed because they were thought to be dangerous and evil and their scales, fangs, venom and other parts used as potion ingredients. While some basilisks do have a taste for human flesh, by and large, their reputation as a man-eater is undeserved. Most of them would rather eat deer or wild game than people.

Icefyre has said that many of its kind have fled Britain for a more remote place, where they can live in peace, but that there are only about five hundred of them left. There are no known basilisks in captivity. So much about this creature has been mistaken that it is a relief, especially to a known wildlife preservationist, to set the record straight. The basilisk is not a monster, though a dangerous magical creature, and it wishes only to live undisturbed. If we continue to hunt and kill them, soon our children and children's children will know of them only in storybooks and legends, and that would be a shame.

I am starting a "Save the Basilisk" group, and any donations and members are welcome. Our goal is to ensure the safety and wellbeing of this brilliant creature, and to allow the basilisk to continue to live in peace. Won't you please help save a hero? To help please write me at the following address—Charles Weasley, the Burrow, or alternatively, the Romanian Dragon Reserve.

Harry grinned. He had known that Charlie was going to write an article about the basilisk, but not that it would be printed in the newspaper. He was happy that the dragon tamer was helping everyone to see Icefyre in a good light. He wondered when the other article about both of the serpents would be published in the magical creatures journal.

There was also an article about the true heirs of Slytherin, and that one stated that the basilisk helped to discover that Harry and Severus were both descendants of Salazar himself and it told Salazar's story in part, mentioned that a publication of the old wizard's private journals was soon to be available, and how the basilisk had declared Voldemort to be a rogue and not the true Heir of Slytherin after all.

A New Inheritance

By Anna Longtree

Once again, Harry Potter takes center stage as he learns of his secret Slytherin heritage, a heritage unknown to him until recently, when the basilisk Icefyre revealed it to him. The basilisk always knows those of Salazar's blood, and it told him that he was a descendant of the famous Founder through his mother's side of the family, from Salazar's daughter, Morgana. Interestingly enough, Potter is the only descendant not to be Sorted into Slytherin.

Another shock was that Professor Severus Snape, Potions Master of Hogwarts, is also a descendant. Snape is a Prince on his mother's side, and the Princes have descended from Salazar's eldest daughter Theodora, he is the Head of Slytherin House. He has also become guardian to one Harry James Potter.

According to the basilisk, Tom Riddle is not Salazar's true heir, he is a traitor because he tricked the basilisk into harming innocents and lied to him, and used dark magic to manipulate and harm people. Such a thing would have been heinous to Salazar, and since Voldemort betrayed his heritage, he is no longer counted among the heirs by Icefyre.

Theirs is a legacy of power and cunning and sorrow, but also a great opportunity. Slytherin had many secrets and is widely renowned as one of the most powerful sorcerers of all time. His descendants seem to have inherited his magical aptitude. Inside Salazar's journals is the true story of the legendary Founder, his hopes and dreams, and how he dedicated his life to protecting those with magic, even to the last, told in his own words. This account is written in Salazar's own hand and verified by a spell as the original journals. According to Professor Snape, Theodora took the journals after her father's death for safekeeping, and they were passed down to the eldest Prince child of each generation. The information in them was kept safe and secret for it was thought no one would believe them if they revealed the truth about their ancestor, who was more commonly known as a pureblood supremacist and hater of Muggleborns. But due to recent events, Professor Snape had graciously allowed copies to be made of the originals and circulated for a brief period of time at a special collector's price. Buy yours on January 9th at Flourish and Blotts. Reservations suggested, as quantities are limited.

Harry noticed that neither article mentioned Severus was also a Parselmouth and nearly asked his guardian about the omission, before stopping and thinking that maybe Severus didn't wish anyone to know about his ability. The Potions Master seemed to want to keep that a secret and Harry was not a blabbermouth like Ron, so he held his tongue. As Icefyre said, Snape was a Slytherin and Slytherins always had secrets.

Harry was getting sidelong glances from the Ravenclaws and the Hufflepuffs seated at the other tables in the hall. He could feel himself start to blush at the scrutiny and wondered when they were going to approach him and start asking questions, or if they would avoid him, thinking he was evil because he was both Parselmouth and Slytherin's descendant.

But he forced himself to hold his head up, he was not ashamed of his heritage or magical gifts, and he would not act like he was. He scanned the rest of the newspaper, finding another article of interest on page two.

Rare Magical Serpent Discovered in Forest

By Deborah Jane Goodall

If you thought you knew every magical beast that lived in Great Britain, think again. A recent discovery by wizards Harry Potter and Severus Snape have revealed an ancient magical serpent called a ruffed golden serpent, a nearly immortal creature who was once the advisor of the Greek god Apollo, and the daughter of the Mayan god Quetzalcoatl. She is known as the Wise One, and bears the most extensive healing magic known to mankind, but will only share her knowledge with those wizards she deems worthy.

Fleeing persecution from her native Delphi, the Wise One took shelter in the Forbidden Forest, where she remains to this day, watching and observing the wizards in the vicinity. She is huge, almost thirty-five feet in length, and possesses formidable abilities and a very keen intelligence. She can comprehend over a dozen languages and has a soporific mist she produces that will knock out even the most magic resistant creature, like a troll or even a basilisk. Her venom will kill any with a dark taint, but will heal anyone else of the most dire illnesses and wounds. She is the wise counselor and teacher, and was once revered as a sacred animal.

Charlie Weasley has told me that he was privileged enough to meet the great ruffed serpent and actually conversed with her, with Harry translating. He has expressed his wish to do so again sometime and is interested in speaking as well with Icefyre, Salazar's basilisk.

The Wise One is very shy and will only consent to speak with those who are willing to be openminded about her former master, snakes, and Parselmouths. She will show herself only to those she trusts and they are barely a handful.

It is a miracle that such a lovely serpent has been dwelling here all this time, incognito until Harry and Professor Snape happened upon her cave during a snowstorm. What a fortunate coincidence, as it saved Harry from frostbite and pneumonia. Members of the Greek Magicians Association wish to petition the Wise One to come back to Greece, her native home, and have talked about sending a representative to the forest to persuade her. But it is the Wise One's choice to go or stay, though I personally prefer if she stays here. It is a great honor to host such a brilliant snake.

Harry had to smile at the tone of the article, unabashedly curious and awed. Of course some things had been left out or substituted, since Severus did not want his ability as a Parselmouth to be widely known. He finished his breakfast at Severus' urging, then went to take a walk about the grounds, he needed to get out of the stuffy castle.

He was soon joined by the other students, all of whom badgered him with questions.

"Is it true that you're Salazar's true heir?"

"Yes. But I never knew that till I met Icefyre and he could smell the scent of Salazar's bloodline on me."

"Is it hard to speak Parseltongue?"

"No, not for me. I didn't even know I was doing it or hearing it until Professor Snape told me."

"How come Professor Snape's your guardian?" asked Hannah Abbot softly.

"Because my relatives are jerks and my uncle got arrested," Harry replied honestly. Dumbledore had told him of his last visit to Privet Drive, and Harry was secretly glad Vernon was behind bars, where he belonged. He silently thanked Hannah's tact when she asked no more questions about his family or Severus.

More questions followed and he answered them as best he could. To their credit, the Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs weren't disgusted or fearful of him, just rabidly curious. They seemed to accept his new ability and his guardian without rancor.

Harry could only hope more of the students, as well as Ron, would react that way.

He spent a pleasant fifteen to twenty minutes speaking with them before continuing to walk about the grounds. He could only imagine what Ron's face looked like when he read the paper and expected to get a visit any day now from Charlie. He also chuckled imagining Malfoy's face, and how green with envy it probably was to discover his archrival not only as Slytherin's heir, but Snape's ward. Malfoy wouldn't dare try anything next term in potions, not with Snape keeping an eye out.

SWSWSWSW

Over the next two days there was much buzz and discussions about the two serpents and the two heirs of Slytherin, as well as Snape's guardianship over Harry. Most people were skeptical about the serpents and some were openly hostile about the basilisk, writing hate mail to Charlie, Severus, and Harry saying they were abominable and ought to be ashamed of themselves, lauding such a deadly creature. One person even threatened to get together a posse and hunt the basilisk down, it was a menace. Others were in awe of the great snake and grateful that it had destroyed Voldemort.

People were surprised and astonished that the dour Potions professor had actually become a legal guardian to the Boy Who Lived. A few expressed displeasure, saying that a Slytherin had no right to raise a Gryffindor, but most people were ambivalent about it, since the Ministry had approved it.

Cornelius Fudge sent a note to Dumbledore expressing his annoyance that he had not been consulted before Severus Snape became Potter's guardian. "If the Muggles were unfit, then Harry Potter would have been a Ministry Ward and I should have had a say in who became his guardian." The Minister wrote.

Dumbledore invited him for tea and talked to him, soothing Fudge's ruffled feathers and taking him to see Severus and Harry working together upon a few potions in companionable silence.

The two men watched unnoticed in the doorway as the professor assisted his apprentice with a draft, quietly explaining the procedure and directing Harry to watch the way he stirred. Seeing the two bending over a cauldron, with Severus' face lacking its characteristic sneer, and Harry biting his lip in concentration, made Albus smile.

"There, you see, Cornelius? Nothing to worry about. The two shall rub along splendidly. Come along now, let's leave them to their brewing. They wouldn't appreciate our interrupting them, potions is an exacting art, you know."

"Actually I wouldn't. I always made a hash out of any potion I brewed," the Minister admitted ruefully, but he followed Dumbledore back upstairs, having to admit that the two really did look like they belonged together. "It's just hard to imagine Severus as a father figure."

"People change, Cornelius. Harry brings out the best in all of us," was all Dumbledore said, before he passed the plate of scones and biscuits to his old friend, who gave him a skeptical look.

SWSWSWSW

The potion Harry and Severus had been brewing was one that would give the imbiber the ability to understand Parseltongue for two hours, and even though it was experimental, Charlie was eager to try it. Since both the Wise One and Icefyre understood human speech, all that was needed was to be able to understand their replies. Once the potion was ready, Severus contacted Charlie, who returned to Hogwarts on dragonback, along with Ron.

Both brothers greeted Harry cordially, and Snape too, except Ron was a little stiff, but Charlie more than made up for his brother by being extremely excited. Severus told him that Icefyre was willing to have a brief conversation, but one at a time, and gave Charlie the potion, leading him a little ways into the forest, for privacy.

Ron and Harry lingered beside Charlie's dragon, and Ron cast Snape a look of distrust as the two strode off, calling, "Be careful, Charlie!"

Charlie gave a dismissive laugh, thinking Ron was worried about the basilisk.

Harry, however, knew better. He sighed. "Don't worry so much."

Ron turned, scowling. "Why not? I don't trust the bloody git and neither should you."

"Ron, don't."

"Don't what? Don't tell you that you're making a huge mistake?" he taunted. "Did you ask him?"

Harry felt himself go hot and then cold. "Listen. It's none of your business about what he did or didn't do eleven years ago. You have no right to judge anyone. I've made my peace with him and that ought to be enough for you. End of story."

Ron gaped at him. "He was a Death Eater and you're okay with that?"

"He was never a Death Eater, but he did make a mistake, which he's paid for and I've forgiven him for."

"What mistake?"

"You don't need to know."

"Now you're keeping secrets from me? I thought I was your best mate!"

"It has nothing to do with you, dammit!" Harry snapped. "Now just let it go! When you have an argument with your father, do I ask you for every little detail like a girl? No."

"Snape's not your father."

"He's my guardian. Same difference."

Ron threw up his hands. "I don't believe this! Ever since you learned you were a Parselmouth, you've been going off the deep end. Supporting Slytherins, cozying up to Snape, who couldn't give a damn about you at school—"

"Tell me something, Ron. What bothers you more, that Snape's my guardian or that I'm Slytherin's Heir? Or that I can talk to snakes?"

"What bothers me is that you're a Gryffindor and you trust them! How can you trust people who are selfish, greedy, lying, evil bastards?"

"Because they're not all like that. You only think they are. Because you've never taken the time to get to know any of them except Malfoy and his puppets."

"And I don't want to."

Harry set his jaw. "I'm a Slytherin, Ron. Descended from Salazar himself. Am I like that?"

"You were Sorted into Gryffindor."

"But the Hat wanted to put me in Slytherin first. I begged it not to, because you told me nothing good ever comes out of there and they were all dark wizards. And that was a lie! There were dark wizards in every House, including Gryffindor."

"Name me one."

"Sirius Black. He was a Gryffindor, and he betrayed my whole family to Voldemort. Can't you see that you're letting prejudice color your opinion? Severus cares for me, he's saved my arse loads of times, and not just because Dumbledore ordered him to. You might not like him very much, but all you have to do is accept him as my guardian and leave it alone."

"I can't. You want to be friends with a basilisk and talk to snakes, okay. That's kind of neat. But don't ask me to respect the dungeon bat as your foster father or whatever. You had a real father, a hero—"

"He's dead, Ron. And he wasn't as much of a perfect person as you think! In school he was a bully and a braggart, just like Dudley or Malfoy—"

"Where'd you hear that? Snape?"

"Dumbledore," Harry shot back, and had the satisfaction of seeing Ron totally deflate. "He told me the truth about a lot of things, things people would rather be forgotten, because it's more convenient for people to point fingers at Slytherins and say they're all evil. You know all that crap we learned in History of Magic about Salazar hating Muggleborns? It was all lies. I read the man's private journals, spoke to his familiar. You want to know how Salazar died? He died saving a family of Muggles from the Inquisition. They arrested and tortured him to death. Now does that sound like someone who hated Muggles? The only evil wizards in Slytherin were Voldemort and his followers. Severus might be snarky and strict, but he's not evil. People change, Ron."

" You certainly have. You've become a Slytherin."

Harry met Ron's angry eyes squarely. "I always was a Slytherin. I simply didn't know it. But you're right. I have changed. I learned things I never knew about myself, about my past, and about Severus. I learned about basilisks and wise serpents and that the world's not black and white. People aren't all good or all evil. There's always shades of gray, in everything and everyone. And it's the circumstances we're placed in that define our choices."

"You sound like a bloody professor."

"Do I? Guess I can't help but be influenced by the Wise One and Professor Snape."

"You didn't have to choose him as your guardian." Ron said petulantly.

"We understand each other, Ron. More than anyone else ever will. It's done. This is what I wanted, I wasn't forced into it. Accept it, okay?" He hoped that he had at last managed to reach through the wall of blind prejudice.

But Ron stiffened. "I can't. It's wrong. You're a Gryffindor, your parents were Gryffindors. Next thing you know, you'll be kissing Malfoy's arse."

"Not unless he changes into a girl," Harry joked, but there was a bitter edge to the humor. "Why can't you just give Severus a chance?"

Ron snorted. "I'm not stupid. He's playing you for a fool. I'm sorry you can't see that."

"I'm sorry too. That you're too stubborn to see the truth."

They stared at each other, and their eyes met. There was nothing more to say. They had reached an impasse. Neither would bend and Ron refused to compromise. The tenuous bond of their friendship had begun to unravel.

"So, that's it, huh?" Ron said, the ghost of regret lingering in his voice. "You're just going to forget about everything because you signed some paper."

"No. I won't forget. But I won't give up the first real family I've ever had because of your blindness. This who and what I am now. When you can accept that, come and find me." Harry said firmly. Then he turned and walked away, a lump in his throat. It hurt, but he knew he had done the right thing.

Ron stared after him in disbelief. Then he turned and kicked at a rock hard. It wasn't supposed to end this way. Harry was supposed to have seen the error of his ways and rejected Snape. Instead, Harry had chosen the slimy professor over him. I can't accept that. I'll never accept it. He and Snape can go to hell! He thought savagely. He wished the tall professor was dead. His fists clenched, he stalked off towards the greenhouse. He knew he was right, it was Harry who was blind. One day he'd regret it. A snake might shed his skin, but it was still a snake. And Snape was still a Death Eater. He lifted a hand and brushed it across his eyes. His former best friend was a fool, but that didn't stop a part of him mourning the death of their friendship.

SWSWSWSW

Harry skipped lunch that day, preferring to stay and brood in his room in Severus' quarters. That brought Severus down to check on him, for he disliked when Harry skipped meals, the boy still was undernourished and needed the calories, vitamins and minerals.

"What's the matter? Are you sick?" he asked, finding Harry curled on his side in bed, facing the wall.

Harry didn't bother to turn around. "No. I'm just not hungry."

The flat tone of voice spoke volumes to Severus' ears. "Did something happen between you and Weasley today?"

"We had a fight."

"I see. Would you like to talk about it?" Severus asked, trying to coax him out of his bleak mood.

"Not really. It won't do any good."

"Why not?"

"Because no matter what I say, he won't accept the truth."

"The truth? About me?"

"You, Slytherins, me. He keeps insisting we're all deceitful and evil. Well, I've had it. If he's too damn stupid to trust me, then he can go jump in the lake. That's all."

"I see." Severus shook his head. He felt a surge of anger at Ron, for causing Harry to be hurt and upset. He reached out and squeezed the other's shoulder comfortingly. "Perhaps he'll come round eventually."

"When pigs fly, sure."

"Starving yourself won't make you feel better."

"I only missed lunch. It's not like I went a whole day without food."

"It's not good for you to skip meals. Sets a bad precedent. Come, sit up. You'll give yourself an ulcer, fretting on an empty stomach. I'll have Bree send down a tray."

Harry groaned. "If I eat, I might sick up."

"Then at least you'll have something in there to vomit." Severus said implacably.

"You're mean."

"Practical." He gave his ward a light swat on the bottom. "Your stomach hurts because there's nothing in it. Trust me."

Harry rolled over and sat up.

Severus noted the weary sorrow in the green eyes. But Harry did not look as if he had been crying. He turned and summoned Bree, one of the Hogwarts elves, giving Harry time to compose himself.

Bree returned with a plate of Cornish pasties and mashed potatoes with gravy, one of Harry's favorites. There was even a treacle tart and a large glass of pumpkin juice.

Harry tried to pretend he wasn't hungry, but his stomach betrayed him, letting out a very loud growl as the aroma of the pasties reached his nostrils.

Severus smirked slightly. "From the sound of things, your stomach is staging a rebellion."

He carried the tray into the sitting room, setting it down on the small table in front of the couch.

Harry followed, and despite his misgivings, sat down and took a forkful of the pasty. The crust was buttery crisp and the beef and potatoes and carrots were savory, hot, and delicious. He found that Severus was right. Once he started, he couldn't stop eating. He finished the tray and burped. "Excuse me. Guess you were right."

"I usually am," said his guardian, and smirked knowingly.

Harry rolled his eyes. He was still upset, but Severus had made him feel somewhat better. Ron had made his choice. Now they would both have to live with it.

SWSWSWSW

New Years Eve:

The whole school had been decked out with sparkling fairy lights, some hung upon strings and some just hovering in colorful groupings. There was a large banner proclaiming the new year hung right across the hall, in the back of the platform where the staff table was. There were noise makers and sparklers placed at every House table, and Dumbledore had told Harry there was to be a great feast later on, and a mild sparkling wine toast just before midnight.

Harry was looking forward to it, he had been rather melancholy ever since his split with Ron. But Severus had done his best to keep him occupied, so he didn't brood, and the Wise One was teaching him a new healing elixir. Icefyre had gone into a semi-hibernation sleep, as it was too cold even for him during the winter. Charlie was lucky that he had gotten to talk with Icefyre before then. The dragon keeper had thanked Severus and Harry repeatedly for allowing him the opportunity to meet with the famous basilisk, until Severus had told him not to mention it. Harry wished Ron could be so openminded about things. It didn't occur to him that Charlie's acceptance came from being older and having seen more of the world and the people in it. Ron had been sheltered and so hadn't had a chance to really see that people were not all good or all evil.

But now it was New Year's Eve, and just before midnight, Severus was going to summon Lucius Malfoy and Dobby to him and they would put their plan to free the elf into action. Harry prayed it would work. He thought it was a good plan.

Severus had already set up the lab, with a half-finished potion, he would tell Lucius it was a potion to make a person's innards shrivel or something sufficiently nasty and tell him the elf would be healed once the potion was tasted and they saw the effects it had upon Dobby. In actuality, the potion would be honey, water, and an extract of hyssop.

Harry had opted to use a sock as the vehicle of clothing, and they hid it inside a scroll cylinder which would hold both sock and the fake potions recipe.

Harry could hardly wait for the big moment, but he did make himself eat some of the tasty food that was on the table at supper. He spent some of the time with Severus at the staff table, where Dumbledore insisted they all wear ridiculous glittery pointed party hats. That made his mentor scowl, but he did put one on—for about two minutes and then said that was enough of that nonsense.

Harry chuckled and continued to wear his. He went down among the other students, Ravenclaws Analise and Steven, and Hufflepuffs Hannah and Justin, and they spent time playing silly card games, like Three Witches, and Truth or Dare with the spinning potions vial. Sweets appeared, and they stuffed themselves, all except Harry, who knew better. He had to be ready to help Severus with Lucius Malfoy and didn't dare risk an upset stomach. Or his guardian's displeasure.

At eleven o'clock, Severus sent a letter to Lucius, telling him about the potions experiment and asking that Lucius bring the house elf. He knew that the elder Malfoy was most likely sloshed by now, he would have had a lot of toasts to drink given the number of important people at the banquet he had probably thrown.

In the letter, Snape told Lucius to meet him in the potions lab at school at quarter to twelve.

Then he sent a note to Harry and waited. Soon enough, Severus excused himself and went down to the lab.

Harry waited till eleven thirty, told his friends he needed to go and use the bathroom, and escaped from the hall, where the rest of the students were listening to WWN's Rockin' New Year's Eve with the Weird Sisters. He quickly raced down the stairs to the lab.

He found Severus diligently stirring the "potion". The Potions Master indicated he should start scrubbing the cauldrons, so it would look like he was in trouble, and therefore have a reason to be down in the dungeon when Lucius arrived. The scroll case sat on top of Snape's desk.

Harry rolled up his sleeves and filled a cauldron with water and soap and began scrubbing away. Bubbles soon frothed about his hands and up to his elbows.

At almost a quarter to twelve, the fireplace in Snape's office, adjacent to the lab, flared and soon they heard Lucius' footsteps on the stone floor. Harry kept his head down and pretended to scrub, but he felt his heart start to beat faster.

"Lucius. Good, you've arrived," Snape greeted the elder Malfoy.

Harry slid his gaze up. Lucius was still impeccably dressed, wearing a black robe and white linen shirt, black trousers and high black boots with a silver snake coiling about the tops. He was holding his dragon headed cane in one hand and Dobby was standing behind him, his huge eyes like saucers in his pointed face.

Huh. He doesn't look drunk, Harry thought worriedly. But then he saw Lucius shift slightly and tilt unsteadily.

The elder Malfoy quickly put a hand out to steady himself on the corner of Snape's desk.

"What's this I hear, Severus, about you becoming Potter's guardian?"

Severus smiled grimly. "It's way to keep tabs on the boy," he hissed. Then he whipped about and snapped, "Eyes on your work and no dawdling, boy!"

Harry immediately ducked his head and started pretending to scrub again.

But he was watching the two through his lashes.

"Is the potion ready?" asked Lucius.

"Yes," Severus responded, giving the potion one last stir. "Shall we get on with it?"

"Of course."

Severus ladled up some of the potion and handed the cup to Dobby.

"For me?" Dobby cried pathetically. "No one has ever given Dobby a gift before!"

"Drink it! Do you think the professor cares about you, you stupid elf?" snarled Lucius, prodding Dobby with his cane.

Dobby obediently gulped the potion. He had been informed about the fake potion and therefore started to groan and stagger about soon after he had imbibed it.

Lucius chuckled, a low wicked sound.

Harry glared at him, hating how the other wizard seemed to revel in the sufferings of others.

"That's some potion y'got there Sev'rus," he slurred, smiling a cold smile.

Dobby wailed and thrashed about so realistically that if Harry didn't know better, he would have thought the elf really was in pain.

"But y' better give him the antidote, Cissy won' like it if the bloody elf dies."

"Of course. I just needed to test it and make sure it was working properly," Severus said, then he reached out and plucked a vial off the shelf behind his desk and went over to Dobby. He knelt down pulled out the cork and pretended to give Dobby the potion.

Dobby swallowed the chocolate-flavored energy draught, and stopped acting. He winked at Snape before getting to his feet. "Master, Dobby is all better!"

Lucius gave the elf a withering stare. "How do you make that potion, Severus? it seems like it would be useful to persuade some of my business associates to talk."

"I have the recipe written down already." He turned to Harry. "Potter, give Mr. Malfoy the scroll case."

Harry quickly wiped his hands on a towel and hurried up to hand Malfoy the case.

Lucius took it. Then he wiped a hand on his trousers and muttered something. "Here, Dobby. Carry this home for me."

"Yes, Master." Dobby said. He took the cylinder reverently.

Harry pretended to trip and banged into the elf. The cylinder fell on the floor and the lid popped open, revealing the parchment and a lone blue sock. Dobby lifted the sock from the case reverently.

Dobby gasped and cried, "Master has given Dobby a sock! Dobby is FREE!"

"Huh?" Lucius looked down at the elf, his aristocratic face drawn in horror and fury. "No!"

"Oops, so that was where I put it," Harry grinned.

Lucius turned on him. "You stupid dunderhead! Do you have any idea what you've done?" He lifted his cane and looked as though he were about to strike Harry with it.

He was so menacing that Harry instinctively ducked and put an arm up to shield his face.

Severus was about to grab Lucius' arm, but Dobby interfered before he had a chance to do so.

"You shall not hurt Harry Potter!" shouted Dobby, and with that he slammed Lucius with a power bolt so strong that the man was knocked off his feet and sent skidding across the floor on his rear, to crash headlong into the soapy cauldron Harry had been scrubbing.

CLONK!

Lucius felt his head start to spin around.

Then the cauldron tilted and soapy water cascaded all over him.

Harry started laughing uncontrollably.

Dobby grinned. "Oh, such a shame. Master is all wet."

"Bring me a towel!" bellowed Lucius, his long hair dripping all in his face and making him look like a drowned Afghan hound.

"Sorry, Master. Dobby is free elf now. So . . .get your own towel, Lucius Malfoy!" the elf snapped. Then he cringed away at his own temerity, but he was well and truly free and did not feel compelled to punish himself.

Just then the clock upstairs struck twelve and there came a huge cacophony of noise as the fireworks went off outside and the students began blowing noise makers and cheering.

"Happy New Year!" Harry crowed, waving about a tiny sparkler.

Lucius began to climb to his feet, casting baleful glances at both Harry and his newly freed elf. "You need to discipline that brat of yours, Snape!" he growled. "A few whacks with a cane would do wonders for his attitude."

"Happy New Year, Lucius." Severus said coldly. "Leave the discipline of my ward up to me. Now, get on home, why don't you?"

Lucius staggered out the door and Severus followed, making sure the elder Malfoy got back home.

Meanwhile Harry and Dobby twirled round and round, drunk on happiness and celebrating a new milestone.

Together they toasted the new year, Dobby with a small glass of butterbeer and Harry with some of the sparkling wine from the table upstairs.

Dobby wept great tears of joy. "Master Harry Potter sir! Dobby is forever grateful to you and Master Severus Snape sir for freeing me. Dobby shall serve you faithfully—"

"Whoa! Wait a minute! I set you free so you didn't have to do that anymore, Dobby. Now that you're free you can choose what you want to do and even get paid for it. You don't have to serve me."

"Master Harry Potter is Dobby's best friend." The elf bowed.

"Thanks, Dobby."

Just then Severus walked in and Dobby began the whole thing about thanks and service again.

Severus had no better luck than Harry convincing Dobby not to serve him, and in the end he told the elf that he could scrub the dungeon floor after his class for 25 Sickles. Then he picked up the glass of sparkling wine he had placed on his desk an hour before, and lifted the glass to his ward. "Happy New Year, Harry. Let's hope it's filled with more hope than sorrow."

Harry chuckled and clinked his glass with Severus, all his melancholy faded away.

SWSWSWSW

" . . .you should have seen it, Fred. He skidded along on his bum like a waterbug and smashed right into the cauldron!" Harry was relating the incident to the twins and the rest of his yearmates at the new beginning of term feast. While this feast was not as elaborate as the beginning of term one, it was still a great deal of food.

The twins erupted in laughter, as did the rest of their Gryffindor yearmates, all except Ron, who was steadily shoveling food into his mouth and doing his best to ignore Harry.

Hermione had tried to talk sense into him, but he refused to listen. She was delighted that house elves could be freed, she found the house elf bond as morally repugnant and disgraceful. She told Harry she intended to free as many house elves as she could by knitting them socks and hats.

Harry found most of the rest of the students regarding him with either awe, alarm, suspicion, and in some cases sheer adoration, at least from the younger girls.

Even so, he still felt uncomfortable, for some of the Slytherins, especially Draco, were shooting him hostile looks. And even a few Gryffindors were eyeing him distrustfully. Harry looked down at his plate, wishing Dumbledore would make the announcement already.

"Attention, everyone! May I have your attention, please!" Dumbledore called, and everyone hushed and looked up at the podium where the old mage was standing. "Due to recent events over Christmas, you all should know that Voldemort has been defeated. While that is wonderful news, you should also know that one of your classmates has been discovered to be the long lost Heir of Slytherin. That one is Harry Potter. Because of his unusual heritage, Harry has asked the Sorting Hat to Re-Sort him. Such a request is extremely rare. But in this case, I felt it was justified. Harry, come up here."

Dumbledore held the Sorting Hat up.

Harry walked up and placed the Hat on his head.

Immediately the brim opened and it sang,

"Child of serpents, found once again,

In the House of Lions your courage was tested,

Yet courage is not all your forte.

You are more than courage, more than ambition,

More than any wizard that has gone before

To you I grant a special place—neither one nor the other,

But a melding of sorts, to promote peace, not war

Better be—Slythindor!"

Harry stood, stunned, as he removed the Hat from his head. This was not what he had expected when he had asked Dumbledore to let the Hat Re-Sort him.

"Slythindor?" cried someone. "That's not even a House."

"It is now." The Headmaster declared. "And Harry is its founding member. Neither snake nor lion, but a mixture of both, he is both Gryffindor by choice and Slytherin by blood. In him the two combine." Dumbledore clapped his hands, and a new banner appeared in the hall.

This banner was divided in half, red and silver, with a ruffed serpent rampant and framed by a green and gold border. Harry looked down at his robes, which now bore this new device. He glanced up at Dumbledore, confused.

Dumbledore patted Harry on the back. "Don't look like that, my boy. Did I not say it would all work out?"

"By giving me my own House?"

"Yes, a House you can make your own, and soon there will be more of you, Harry. Never doubt it. You're not the only one with both Gryffindor and Slytherin traits, only the first who has ever admitted it. I believe you were meant to bring Slytherin and Gryffindor together. To foster tolerance and understanding. As you did with the basilisk." He patted Harry on the back, then turned back to the students. "Today is the dawning of a new era. The dark wizard who has cast a long shadow over so much of our lives is no more—"

Loud cheers followed this statement.

"—and with his demise must come a new age of peace and tolerance. You all have heard the story of Salazar Slytherin's basilisk familiar, Icefyre, and how he redeemed himself by slaying Voldemort. That never would have happened if not for Harry and his mentor, Professor Snape. Soon Salazar's memoirs will be published and required reading for you all in History of Magic. For centuries we have labored under a misconception, and only now will Slytherin's name be cleared and his true motives revealed."

Now the Slytherins cheered and clapped.

Dumbledore held up a hand and the room grew quiet again. "I have seen for years how the rivalry between Gryffindor and Slytherin has grown more and more intense, and filled with hate. It grieved me to see, but nothing I said seemed to have an effect.

Perhaps now that you have a leader here in Harry, you will all realize an important truth—no matter what House you are, you are all bound by a common gift, the magic within you. The Founders believed that by creating the Houses they could better focus on the special traits within each wizard, but they never intended for the Houses to become bitter rivals and tear each other apart. We all need each other in order to survive.

"Today is the dawn of a new world, a world not dominated by Voldemort's shadow. Let us go forth with an open mind, and learn to respect both similarities and differences. The Sorting Hat has created a new House, and more will soon follow. At next year's Sorting you will have classmates who may be Sorted into Slythindor or even Griffinclaw or Hufflelin or Ravenpuff. Like Harry, they are the best representatives of traits of two houses and can be bridges from one House to another. For now, Slythindor will be advised by both Professor Snape and Professor McGonagall, and should have more members by next term. Let us all celebrate the beginning of a new year . . .and a new beginning for Hogwarts!"

Everyone clapped and hooted. Everyone, it seemed, save for Ron. Even Draco clapped and eyed Harry curiously, as if trying to figure out a new species of magical creature.

Harry longed to go and hide under the table, he had never been comfortable with his status as a celebrity and was even less comfortable with it now. But he supposed he had to learn to deal with it, since he was the charter member of Slythindor now. So he held up his head and met the stares of his peers, he was overwhelmed but not going to show it, he had to earn their respect and cowering in a corner wasn't going to do it. He was proud of both his heritages and determined to show the other students that you could have the best traits of both Houses to draw on. As Dumbledore had said, this was a chance to develop inter-House unity like never before. It was a goal he thought he could achieve, and a far better one than killing a dark wizard.

Finally, the hubbub died down and Harry returned to his seat. He looked over at Severus and their eyes met. The Potions Master gave him a nod and a half-smile of approval. Harry rubbed his hand over his new crest and smiled. With Severus to help, he knew he could face anything the new term might bring.

His tablemates were peering at the new crest and asking Harry how he felt being Sorted into a brand new House.

"Kind of weird," was all he could think of to say. "But I'm sure I'll get used to it."

"I think you'll do fine, Harry," said Hermione. She smiled at him and he smiled back.

He was grateful for her unflagging support and always had been. He glanced over at Ron, who refused to look at him.

George saw and said softly, "Don't mind our little brother, Harry. He's just—"

"—being an arse right now," finished Fred. "But we'll straighten him out eventually."

"No," Harry said, pitching his voice for their ears alone. "Better just let him be. I'd rather not have a friend at all than have one who's been bullied into being with me."

"Okay. It's your call, Harry," Fred agreed.

"And we're still your friends, even if you are Slytherin's heir," George said. "You should have heard Charlie when he came home the other day. Merlin, but all he could talk about was the basilisk and how wicked cool it was. It's like his new love interest."

Harry laughed at that, but Hermione grimaced. "Eew! That's just sick!"

"That's my brothers," Ginny said, rolling her eyes.

"Girls!" the twins chorused, grinning.

"I'll always be grateful for the basilisk. I wish I could meet him and say thank you," she continued.

"He's sleeping right now, but once he wakes, I could invite him over," Harry offered.

"That would be grand!" cried the youngest Weasley.

"Oooh, Gin! Maybe you could wake the beastie with a kiss." Teased Fred.

"Like Sleeping Beauty, only it's the Sleeping Beastie," George hooted.

"Honestly, you two!" Ginny stuck her tongue out at them.

Hermione made a face at them. "Harry, do you think I might ask the Hat to Re-Sort me? Remember, I told you it had a hard time deciding whether or not to put me in Ravenclaw? So maybe I'm a hybrid too."

"A what?"

"A hybrid. You know, it's a creature or a plant that's made by combining two different species, like a wolf-dog."

"Could be, Hermione. Why don't you ask Dumbledore?"

"Maybe I will," she said speculatively. "Err . . .Harry? Do you think maybe one day I could . . .speak with the Wise One? She sounds like she could answer so many questions and it would be like . . . like meeting Cleopatra or . . .or Helen of Troy or something."

"I'll have to ask her, but I'm sure she wouldn't mind. She likes to answer questions, especially if they're intelligent ones. Just try not to ask anything too . . . err . . . personal because I have to translate her answers, okay?"

"Sure, Harry. I won't mention anything about the sex lives of serpents," the little witch said, giggling.

Half the boys at the table gagged upon hearing that.

"Boys!" Hermione shot back and the other girls sniggered.

Finally the feast was over and the students all rose and headed back to their common rooms to unpack or chat with each other about how wonderful or awful their holiday had been. Harry told Hermione he would be along soon but he needed to speak to Snape.

He headed down to the dungeons, following the Slytherins.

He waited until almost all of them had entered the portrait hole before heading on to Snape's quarters. He had almost reached them when he heard a familiar voice call, "Potter!"

He turned, wondering why Draco wanted to speak with him. He hoped it wasn't to pick a fight, he couldn't imagine the other boy being too happy with him after freeing his house elf and humiliating his father.

"Malfoy. What do you want?"

Draco bit his lip. "I . . .I want to call a truce."

Harry was suspicious. "A truce? Why?"

"Because you're the heir of Slytherin, among other things."

Harry studied the blond boy intently. "And you figure it'd be better for you to be my ally than my enemy."

"Exactly. You do understand," the other said, radiating approval.

"I understand you only do something if it's in your best interest, Malfoy."

"Of course I do," Draco smirked. "Well?"

Harry thought for a long moment. He had never enjoyed being Malfoy's rival, he had always wished the Slytherin would leave him alone. "I'll accept your truce . . . but only if you promise never to tease Ron again."

Draco's eyebrows rose. "What's in it for me if I do?"

"You get your truce and I don't tell the basilisk to eat you."

Draco blanched. "You wouldn't!"

"You never know, Malfoy. Icefyre is very protective of me and he doesn't like bullies and liars."

"Okay, I'll leave Weasley alone in his shack with his family. It was getting too easy to bait him anyhow." He stuck out a hand and Harry shook it. "I have to go, Potter. See you in potions. Don't forget to chop the orris root up fine!"

"Keep your hands out of my cauldron, Malfoy," warned Harry.

Draco laughed softly and kept walking.

Harry didn't trust the blond boy, he knew full well that Malfoy did nothing that wouldn't benefit himself or his family, but he also didn't want to spend the rest of this term dodging Malfoy and his toadies, and besides, this was why he was chosen to be a Slythindor, so he could make peace between both the Houses. A truce with Malfoy was only the beginning.

He knocked softly at Severus' quarters.

"Come in, Harry," came the professor's voice.

Harry entered. "Hi, Severus." He didn't bother asking how Snape knew it was him, the professor always had an uncanny perception when it came to knowing where Harry was.

"Hello. I take it you're here to transfer all your things back up to Gryffindor Tower for the time being?"

"Yeah. For this week, so they don't think I'm snubbing them. I'm going to alternate weeks, spend some here in the dungeons and some there."

"That sounds very sensible. Perhaps I can arrange some time in the evenings for you to meet with my Slytherins and get to know them better."

Harry nodded. "I'd like that. Thank you."

"No thanks are necessary." Severus set his hands on Harry's shoulders. "You handled that scene in the hall very maturely, Harry. I'm proud of you."

The words were spoken quietly, but Harry felt as if he had won a million Galleons. Severus rarely said those words, but when he did say them, Harry knew he meant them. He looked up at the black-robed professor and gave him an impish grin. "Really?"

"I wouldn't say so unless I meant it. You've been given a tough job to do, but I believe, as does Dumbledore, that you are the only one who can do it right. However, if you ever need me, I will be here."

"Thank Merlin," Harry said, he had a feeling that in the months to come he was going to need Severus' advice, and the Wise One's, and Icefyre's. "Guess I'd better go and pack."

But he found himself reluctant to do so right then, and he leaned against his guardian for a long moment, allowing himself to be sheltered in Snape's arms. He breathed in the scent of cloth and spices and thought about how far he had come from the terrified boy who had fled the castle believing he was going mad, into the teeth of a blizzard, only to be rescued by the most unlikely person of all.

He shut his eyes briefly, picturing the Wise One in his mind, his cheek nestled against Snape's robe. 'Tis the season of warmth and light, and anything is possible, so long as you believe in yourself and trust your heart, the ruffed serpent had told him.

She had been right, Harry thought, for despite all odds he had at last what he always wanted, a place to call home, and a father-figure to share it with, and friends he would trust with his life. Granted, much was still expected of him, and his friends and family were not at all normal, but Harry could care less. They were all his and that was all he had ever asked for, each and every Christmas, for as far back as he could remember.

Someday, I'll be telling this whole crazy tale to my kids and grandkids, Harry thought wryly. Or Severus will. That thought, accompanied by a salt-and-pepper haired Snape, sitting with a grandkid on both knees, made Harry laugh.

"What is so funny?"

"Nothing. I was just . . . thinking about something," Harry hedged.

Suddenly there came a loud pop and Dobby appeared, wearing mismatched socks and a long tunic-like shirt. "Harry Potter sir, Dobby wishes to know if you would like help in packing your things?" the elf cried, as eager as a hound puppy to please his master.

"That would be great, Dobby," Harry agreed, then withdrew from Severus and followed the elf down the hall to his room, leaving a bemused Potions Master wondering what Harry had found so funny. Severus had a feeling it concerned him.

The Potions Master shook his head. Let the boy keep his secrets. Harry was happy and that was enough for him, an unlooked for miracle, like forgiveness and understanding, that warmed him through and through.