Harry spent most of the afternoon helping out with clean-up and aiding the injured.

He hastily left the Great Hall once parents started to arrive to mourn the dead or locate the injured. The Ministry were there too, along with reporters, and Harry fled at the first chance he got.

Climbing a few steps, he passed by the Malfoys and quickly doubled back to warn them of what was going on in the Great Hall. They looked startled at the idea of the Ministry and such being there and were very relieved to be forewarned. As they chose a different route to walk, Harry turned away and quickened his pace to reach the Hospital Wing.

It was mostly empty now as a lot of students had returned to their common rooms. He spotted Toby, who appeared to have just woken up as he rubbed his eyes and yawned.

'Hey.' Harry smiled at his younger brother. 'How are you feeling?'

'Okay.' Toby shrugged and sat upright. He glanced at Snape, who was being checked by Madam Pomfrey, and looked over at Harry. 'What happened? Is dad okay?'

'He just needs some sleep. You saved his life.' Harry praised while Toby blushed. 'The war is over now. Voldemort is gone.'

'Did you stop him?'

'Dumbledore did most of it, but yeah.' Harry nodded and sat on the edge of the bed, letting Toby crawl closer to hug him.

'I'm sorry I ran away, but I had to try to save dad! You left him.' Toby inched back and glared at Harry. 'You left him there and forgot the anti-dot thing. I took the lucky potion and...where's Felix?' The boy gasped and looked around for his silver cat.

'I...I went to find him and D-Draco was crying...then the floor shook an-and I was so scared, but when Kreacher got me...Felix was still there. You have to-to find him, Harry!' He said tearfully and grabbed the front of Harry's robes. 'Please!'

'I will.' Harry nodded. 'I promise. But you need to calm down or Madam Pomfrey won't let you leave.' He hugged his brother then pushed Toby back towards the pillow.

The boy eyed Pomfrey carefully as he wiped his eyes and attempted to appear calm, though he was sick with worry over his cat.

'Draco told me to give this back to you.' Toby pulled the invisibility cloak from under his pillow. 'He knew my name, Harry...before he took the cloak. Said he knew about me for a long time.'

Harry frowned at that and knew he needed to have another chat with Draco soon. He glanced over as Pomfrey checked Toby and said he was fine to go.

'I want to stay with him.' Toby looked over at Snape, who was still sleep on the outside of the bedsheets in his usual attire, though it had been cleaned up a little.

'He's going to be asleep for a long time yet.' Harry said. 'Are you hungry? How about we look after ourselves first, okay? Don't worry, he's not going anywhere. We'll be here when he wakes up.' He glanced at Pomfrey.

'I'll let you know as soon as he does.' She nodded.

'Thanks.' Harry stood and extended his hand to Toby. 'Come on.'

Toby looked over at his father once more and nodded. He gripped Harry's hand with his own and slid off the bed. The boy kept his obsidian eyes on his father's sleeping form as he glanced over his shoulder and allowed Harry to lead him out of the Hospital Wing.

-- 

They soon reached the Gryffindor common room and felt downhearted as grief filled the room. It was clear how it was less crowded than before; even though most of the students who were too young to fight or didn't want to had been evacuated, almost every Gryffindor had remained.

And yet, there were no more Gryffindors in the common room than there were likely in the Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw common rooms. Most of the Slytherins had left and Harry actually felt a bit sad for them since their Death Eater parents were either facing Azkaban or had been killed.

Harry nudged Toby to their dormitory where all of their room mates were either sitting around and staring into space, or catching up on some much-needed sleep.

Ron was snoring in his usual bed as though a war had not just taken place hours earlier.

Toby brightened a little as he saw that his room-mates and friends were okay as well. He talked to Dean and Seamus while Harry showered and changed into his school uniform, minus the robes.

The teenager stood in front of the mirror for a moment afterwards, staring at his appearance and remembering what Sirius and Dumbledore had said about being who he wanted to and how no one really changed, just evolved and learned to accept who they actually always were, deep down. Or something like that.

'I gotta pee!'

Harry jumped when Toby pounded his fists against the door.

Rolling his eyes, Harry opened the door and felt his brother rush by him with a change of clean clothes under his arm. Stepping back into the dormitory, Harry moved to sort through his trunk. He placed his cloak back inside and stared at the empty antidote vial for a moment before it was tucked away as well. He would never use it again, but kept the empty item for sentimental value.

It was now a symbol of many things to Harry; Draco's help, Harry's Potions accomplishments, Toby's bravery, and Snape's continuation of life.

He paused and lifted his part of the parchments he shared with Snape and smiled as he remembered the last exchange they had made through the parchment. Snape and Harry had told the other that they weren't alone, which proved to be true for them both.

'I'm hungry.' Toby pressed against Harry's back and draped an arm around his shoulder. 'Can we ask Dobby for some food?'

'I could do with something myself.' Dean commented.

Harry nodded and called the house-elf, letting everyone make requests though the Boy-Who-Lived-Again carefully evaded asking for anything himself. He just didn't feel like eating anything. Having lunch felt too normal, too everyday and simple, yet Harry couldn't bring himself to grab the reminder of reality and regained normalcy. Because nothing was normal, and he felt it never would again, or perhaps what had been “normal” before wasn't really so? It confused him, and his mind was filled with so much at once that Harry felt on the verge of losing his composure. And in moments like that, he needed to be productive or strive for something.

Looking over at Toby, who was chewing a sandwich and swinging his legs as he sat on the edge of Harry's bed, the teenager recalled the silver cat who had once been the half-frozen kitten the little boy had rescued at Christmas.

'Aren't you hungry, Harry?' Dean asked as Ron grunted awake at the smell of food.

'Not really.' Harry replied. 'Toby, will you stay here while I go and find Felix?' He quickly thought of an excuse as to why the boy couldn't come with him, though it was a semi-legitimate one. 'The Ministry are here, and the reporters...I don't want to them see you.'

'Okay.' Toby looked away from his food and Harry, his feet becoming still as he sighed miserably, wishing he could go with Harry to help find his beloved cat. 'I saw him near the bathroom with the ghost lady.' He added with a blush, since he wasn't supposed to be there yet wanted to help Harry find his pet.

'Thanks.' Harry nodded as he turned on his heels and hurried from the room, fighting the urge to break out into a run.

The teenager knew he should be solely focused on locating the cat and be worried about the creature, but Harry's mind swirled with so much at once that he soon found himself standing alone in the cold, darkened, and somewhat damaged, dungeons. It was where he had improved his Potions skills, where he had taken his Potions classes with Snape for the past five years leading to this one with Slughorn, and it was where Snape himself resided, though Harry didn't know where.

Feeling safer because the Professor was asleep in the Hospital Wing, Harry approached the man's office and was surprised to find that it opened easily when he turned the knob. Lighting a few candles with his wand, Harry looked around and couldn't quite place the reasoning behind his subconscious decision to come here.

Trailing his fingertips over the dark wood of the man's desk, Harry noticed the rolls of parchment and small piles of books sitting there. Of all the items on the desk, his attention fell primarily to an hourglass beside a large bowl of scones. Harry stepped closer and ignored the oddity of the man's choice of snack, and stared at the hourglass.

There was nothing remarkable about the clear and brown item with light sand, only that it was something in which measured time.

Harry reached over, careful not to disturb any of the other items that rested on the desk, and flipped the hourglass, watching the sand drain away from the upper half, just as Snape's own life had slowly begun to drain many hours prior.

Sitting in Snape's straight and proper seat, which turned out to be quite a comfortable leather chair, Harry rested his elbows on the desk and placed either sides of his jaw against his hands.

He just sat there, his mind whirling, as he patiently watched the small grains of sand pouring gradually into the lower half of the hourglass.

He needed that moment.

Just minutes ticking by on a soundless, invisible clock; meanwhile thoughts, memories and realisations sorted themselves out in his mind. Harry relished, though partially unaware of it, the moment in which to simply slow down. To take a breath and come into terms with everything that had coupled into his mind and being at once, without any sort of pause or constructed order. And the longer the teenager sat there, thinking about everything he'd learned and had come to pass, the further his mind returned to the man who usually occupied the office Harry was intruding upon.

Was Harry his son?

Did the genes that formed who he was also originate from the man he had once hoped to never become? His blood, his hair...Harry's very existence, was that what linked Snape to him now? Not just a professor or comrade, but a father? A parent he had so longed for and possibly found in the most unlikely of person? His own DNA composition was hardly important to Harry, as he thought about it, because as Sirius had said...it was who he wanted to be that mattered. Did he want to be the son of Snape? Did a tiger choose its stripes?

His thoughts came to a crashing halt, just as a train without brakes, when he felt something warm touch his leg.

Ignoring the fact that wayward potions ingredients would probably be ice-cold, Harry froze and jumped out of the seat. Shuddering from the sensation, he cautiously crawled onto his hand and knees to peer underneath the desk. He could not believe the sight that met his gaze. He was under the impression that the cat who had shocked him knew of a long-kept secret, one in which Harry didn't know any details of.

'Felix?' He stared wide-eyed at the slumbering silver cat he had ventured to find.

And of all places in which to do so.

Harry had wandered aimlessly, his mind adrift as he subconsciously arrived at the dungeons and snuck into Snape's office, only to find the very object of his official search?

With a “meow”, Felix was pulled out from under the desk and held firmly by Harry, who looked down at it with a frown. The teenager was unable to decipher his level of incredible luck because it was surely a one-in-a-million occurrence.

Shrugging, since his task was complete, Harry looked towards the hourglass and blinked.

Like many moments in a person's life, they set the course for something they wish to watch and wait for, something that intrigues them and has an impact on themselves. And then, much like what had just happened to Harry in regards to the hourglass...a single distraction of focus, and you miss the moment entirely. The last grain of sand headed to the bottom and Harry had missed it.

He sat and waited, yet now the moment was over and he hadn't even felt it passing.

His thoughts re-arranged and direction set on track as he gripped the cat in his arms, Harry stepped into the corridor outside the office, making sure to shut the door behind him. What other moments had passed him by without even a change of air or obvious conclusion? Each chance not taken or person who left, Harry missed an opportunity to say words of gratitude that needed to be said, to ask questions which really should be asked...and to gain knowledge he should otherwise already know.

Pausing in a corridor three floors up from where he had ventured into Snape's office, Harry halted and had a change of mind.

He summoned Dobby to take Felix back to Toby, and then marched off towards the library. Irma had avoided the mass of crowds below, so it appeared that in her reluctance to become involved with celebrations, she had charmed books back into their rightful places on the shelves. It was all Harry noticed as he sought her out.

'Harry.' Irma stated when she saw the boy approach where she was fixing a broken shelf next to the Restricted Section. 'What brings you here?'

'Nana.' Harry began with determination etched into his entire form and expression. 'I have to know...I mean, I need the truth. Sirius said something about my father and no one is telling me what it is. I think you know something too. Will you tell me? Do you think I'm...' Harry paused, unsure if he wanted to know and uncertain if it could say it aloud.

She had known about Toby though, so perhaps she would know about him as well, if it was even true or if his signals were so very disoriented.

'Am I his son? Your real grandson?'

Irma stared at him for what could have been minutes yet felt much longer. Harry stared back at her, waiting anxiously for minutes, while her mind drifted and felt to be lost in thought for hours. She remembered, seeing Toby for the first time at six-years-old, and knowing who he was.

But Harry?

Irma knew she had a vial from Lily Evans regarding Severus and Harry, something she had tried to forget the existence of and had made a promise to do so. She could not bring herself to break it just yet, not right now. Everything was still raw and new, in its own way. Harry wanted to know if he was the son of Severus, her real grandson, and Irma knew the answer was rather simple, yet complex and entwining.

To decide upon what to say, she thought upon memories of the boy standing nervously in front of her, staring at her with desperate emerald eyes curtained by his strands of black hair...

---

1969

Irma, who had been Eileen Prince back then, slowly walked down the steps in her dressing gown.

She looked warily towards the couch where Tobias snoring, his hand having dropped the empty beer bottle against the side of the seat. Frowning, she walked to the window which overlooked the street of Spinner's End and glanced at the time.

It was early afternoon.

Sighing, she peered outside and saw her son in the middle of the road, which was hardly a bother since there were nearly no cars around. He was standing across from a girl his age with red hair.

The smile on his face caught Eileen by surprise. He was laughing, smiling, and moving his arms like an excited owl. The girl laughed back, turning slightly so her green eyes were seen in the sunlight. Eileen was stunned. Her lonely, poor child who had been neglected by his parents was standing in the street with a friend, a girl who looked to come from the nicer homes around the corner.

For the first time in about seven years, Eileen felt a tiny glimmer of hope as she watched her nine-year-old son enjoying the company of his red-haired friend. It was more important than she had realised at the time, though, as she would see that girl again and again over the years.

It was a brighter day for all...the day when Severus Snape met Lily Evans.

--

1971

'No, mother.' Severus frowned and pulled away from Eileen. 'I don't require a coat. I am going to change into my school clothes the moment I get on the train.' He told her stubbornly, clearly eager to be rid of the muggle part of his life.

Sighing, Eileen said nothing as she nudged her son out the door, closing it carefully even though Tobias was at work.

Habits were hard to break.

They took a bus to King's Cross Station, which Eileen hated paying for with the little amount of money they had. She would either walk or apparate back, if only she could remember how to do the latter.

Getting onto the platform was easy enough, once she explained Severus how to do so. He seemed doubtful as he gripped his trolley and glared at the stone wall. Feeling nervous, he decided to run at it and was relieved when magic did not let him down. Eileen joined him and stared at the scarlet train.

This was it. Her son was going off to Hogwarts to learn magic, leaving her alone with Tobias and her magic-less life.

--

1971

[blockquote]You instructed me to write and inform you of which house I was sorted into. It's Slytherin, just like your side of the family. I am proud to be Slytherin, mother, however Lily is not. She's in Gryffindor. Why is life so unfair?[/blockquote]

Clutching her son's letter in her hands, Eileen sighed and wondered the same thing.

She didn't realise that house difference would mean less as time went along. She had no way of knowing that the girl who made her son smile and gave him a reason to, would one day play a crucial role in his adulthood as well.

--

1977

Her son graduated yesterday.

He thought she was dead, but Eileen wished she could be there to see the man he had become. Not yet...it was too soon. Sighing, she sipped her juice and glanced around the muggle cafe.

The door opened and a teenage girl shook the rain from her hair as she exhaled and looked around. Their eyes met. Eileen almost dropped her cup in shock, her mind frantically searching for an escape.

'It's okay.' The red-haired girl spoke. 'He doesn't know. But I do, I know you're alive.' Lily looked angry yet willing as she sat across from her at the table. 'It took weeks to find you, but I had to. I need to ask you something.'

'What?' Eileen barely managed to say, though she wanted to comment on how much more beautiful the lady had become, growing from the bright-eyed girl who made her son laugh, to the stunning witch before her. She also wondered how the girl knew she was alive, yet decided not to ask.

'Will he ever forgive me?' Lily asked, her eyes sad and lowered. 'Severus. Your son. Will he forgive me?'

'I was under the impression it is he who requires forgiveness.' Eileen frowned. 'What are you talking about, Lily?'

'I didn't want to.' Lily stared at the table, seeming lost and annoyed. 'I had to. It was the only way. I thought...I thought it would end differently. He's a Death Eater now.'

Eileen knew he was.

The pain she felt in her chest every day confirmed it, yet she did her best to look surprised. She could not understand why Lily was here, seeking her out and not telling anyone she was alive.

'I need your help.' Lily looked up, as though reading her mind. 'You're the only one who can. I have to do something. I have to correct it. I can heal him, I can...really. I will do anything.' She begged with her green eyes of regret. 'If you do this for me, for us...I will help you create a new life, a new name. You can work at Hogwarts, though he'll know you're alive, but it'll better. I promise. Please?'

Eileen stared at her for a long moment, wondering what Lily was talking about, yet never missing the chance to help her son in hope of redeeming herself as his mother. And a new life sounded very tempting.

--

1980

[blockquote]Thank you. When the time is right, they should know the truth. James cannot be told, he must never know of my betrayal. Conceal the vial, forget its contents, please Irma...you promised.[/blockquote]

Yes, she had.

--

1991

Irma looked over from where she sat at the staff table, watching the first years walk into the Great Hall.

She saw him in an instant.

The dark hair, the emerald eyes...yet she wasn't sure why he felt more important than simply being Lily's son. Confused, as though she had forgotten an answer on an exam, Irma simply proceeded to watch the sorting.

When the boy faced the front, gripping the seat in nervousness, Irma smiled in memory of her son's younger years. He had a habit of seat-gripping and stiffness as well, though it was hardly an uncommon trait.

'GRYFFINDOR!'

--

1991 – 1994

Irma felt a connection to the boy. He was Lily's son, yes, but she watched him and smiled at his accomplishments while frowning at his enemies, just as she would for her own child, had she been a more attentive mother. She'd never thought of her actions in such a way, yet at the end of his fourth year, she looked over at her son and saw the same observations taking place.

Severus watched the boy too.

He was Lily's son, after all, yet she wondered if there was something deeper for Severus as well.

Surely it was not mere co-incidence that both she and her son watched Harry Potter so intently over the years? Well, Irma actually did not see him more than once or twice from time to time, but each incident felt like it lasted for hours. There were children who looked more like her son than he did, yet Irma always flashed back to young Severus when she saw or heard Harry. Sometimes Lily as well.

It was most strange, yet every single time it happened, she shrugged it off and returned to her duties.

--

1995

It was the last day of term.

Irma left the library as she was heading to dinner. Pausing, she saw a boy in the corridor standing alone with his shoulders hunched and back pressed against the stone wall.

She halted, as a clear alarm bell went off in her mind. The boy was in Gryffindor, based on his robes, yet the way he stood and sulked was reminiscent of her son. He glanced over, as though sensing her presence, and seemed displeased about being caught in a vulnerable state of emotion.

'Are you alright, Mr Potter?' Irma asked.

'Yes, ma'am.' Harry answered, watching her for a moment as he seemed miserable, no doubt because of the death of his godfather. 'I think it's my fault. Someone died and I couldn't save him.'

She knew he was grieving terribly, otherwise he would not have spoken to her of all people, as though he wasn't even aware of talking at all. He did not look like the same child he had been in the past few years.

He seemed different somehow, not from the shock of losing a loved one, just...different.

'You are not to blame for his death.' Irma said firmly, having no idea why she was even replying.

Comforting was not her virtue, and she was sure Harry wouldn't realise that she knew who she was talking about, since Dumbledore had spoken very briefly to the staff about what happened at the Ministry.

'Will he ever forgive me?' Harry frowned as though her words had not been spoken. 'I miss him so much.'

Looking up her, in the shadows his eyes didn't seem green, in fact they looked much darker. Almost obsidian. The boy looked remarkably like her son yet not entirely, she saw Lily's features, yet why she was even thinking those things at all confused her immeasurably.

Irma muttered something and left the corridor quickly, heading to the Great Hall with a guilt ridden mind for leaving the saddened boy there alone.

No matter how fast she hurried along, the past always seemed to chase her.

She was seeing things, obviously, and it made her wonder why. Did she miss Lily and the boy her son once was? Or was there something else, something her own inner self was trying to tell her yet she could not understand or...remember?

---

As Irma's gaze re-focused to the sixteen-year-old Harry in front of her, staring expectantly in wait of her reply, she knew the boy was right. She knew more than she was telling, she had the answers he sought...yet, they were as much a mystery to him as it was to Irma.

'I strongly believe you are my grandson, Harry. My rarely-incorrect instincts tell me as much.' Irma nodded, causing a hitch in the boy's breathing as he stared at her. 'However, I cannot confirm it. I made a promise, long ago, in which to forget certain events relating to you and my son. The time isn't right to resurface those memories, therefore I can't give you an absolute answer.' She looked away from his pleading gaze.

When Lily had made her request for Irma for forget the vial and its contents, the librarian had done so not via magical means, only sheer will. She concealed the vial as asked and forced herself never again to think on it or the memories within.

Over time, she wasn't sure of its contents, wasn't certain if she had imagined it all, or what the memories Lily herself had placed inside would contain. Curiously was in her nature; therefore, she had often wondered and guessed, but only since the current school year had begun. Her plan had been successful for the most part, recalling only that she'd made a promise to Lily about something she had to conceal.

And now, certain facts had returned to her when she'd broken her plan to ignore the subject of confusion.

Irma had not lied to Harry. She has remembered the vial Lily asked her to conceal, she has forgotten the exact details of its contents, but she knew – somehow, through her own instincts and tiny snippets of recollections, that it was in regard to her son and Harry. What she had just thought upon said as much. She had met with Lily, talking about Severus and a plan involving him. And somehow, her mind instantly considered Harry as well.

The two had to be connected.

The vial contained answers, Irma knew that, and she was convinced she knew what some of them may be about, yet she'd promised not to explore it further, to gain actual facts and certainties. Harry's emerald eyes of pleading almost swayed her, yet Irma had been doing this for far to long to give in.

'I need to know.' Harry said again. 'Please. I have to know before he wakes up. Unless I can...'

She wasn't sure what that “unless” option was, because he gasped dramatically and thanked her in a hurry as Harry turned and fled the library. He'd had an idea in which to gain his confirmation, to have a solid “yes” or “no” in regards to Severus Snape possibly being his father.

Irma hoped he would get the answers he wanted.

-- 

And Harry had.

He rushed through corridors and down stairs, passing people as he ran, and finally reached the dungeons. Skidding on the smooth floor, Harry marched to Snape's office and gasped for air as he burst inside. Feeling the urge to apologise for the rude entrance, though the man was asleep elsewhere, Harry blushed and straightened his tie before he turned to the fireplace.

Growling, the teenager looked around for a bag or container of floo powder, yet found none.

'Typical.' Harry muttered and headed to the desk, his previous cautious and tenderness in handling the furniture gone.

He yanked open the drawer and shuffled through papers and empty vial, trying not to think why there were so of them empty. Sighing, he checked the next drawer, moving things aside until he located a small container. Peering cautiously within, he was certain that he had found the powder.

Slipping onto the place in front of the fireplace, Harry threw in a handful of floo powder and spoke the location. Sticking his head within, he felt very little embarrassment in startling poor Tonks where she had been sitting sleepily on a couch not far from where his head now hovered in her fireplace flames.

'Harry?' She gasped. 'What-?'

'Remus.' Harry said quickly. 'It's okay. I just need to talk to him. Please?'

'What is it?' Remus appeared into view, holding a baby with blue hair who appeared to have rejected his father's attempts to feed him, judging by the colouring of spat-up food on Remus' shoulder.

'I need the memory. The one of Sirius about my dad.' Harry said. 'Please Remus, I need to know the truth.'

'I'll give it to you.' Tonks stood, ignoring Remus' objections, as she crossed the room and Harry leaned back to allow her to pass through.

'Thank you.' Harry exhaled with relief as he watched Tonks extract a memory from her temple and place it inside a vial, handing it to him. Gratitude marked his features as he smiled and gripped the important vial of memory in his hand, just as he had held Snape's during the war.

As Tonks left again, looking to need a lot of rest, Harry turned and wondered how he was going to find a pensieve without asking Dumbledore. He reached the door and stepped into the corridor again.

His breath catching, Harry jumped when a house-elf appeared in front of him and brought his plans of discovery to a crashing halt.

'Madam Pomfrey is requesting Harry Potter.' The elf told him with a girlish squeak. 'She is wanting you to know...Severus Snape is awake.'