It was highly abnormal for the muggles masquerading as his family to leave such a “freak” like Harry alone in their house for an entire week, but considering the money they were making and the holiday they were likely to have, the risk seemed to be worth it.

Also because following the loss of Harry's godfather Sirius Black many weeks ago, the sixteen-year-old had barely moved or said a single word since he had returned to their household for the summer. They were relying on his fact to remain true for the whole duration of their absence.

Harry knew his relatives considered him to be “not all there” but it wasn't correct. Sure, when he wasn't doing chores he would spent many hours seemingly staring off into space, but it was more than that. He was perfectly aware of what happened around him and the things whispered about his behaviour...Harry simply didn't care. Or rather, he refused to let it bother him on the grounds that he may explode with angered retaliation that would lead to accidental magic and trouble from the Ministry of Magic. It had happened before.

Spending the summer in semi-silence as he carried out as many distracting chores as possible while trying to find a way to ease away the nightmares at night, seemed to be a reasonable way to spend the many weeks before his return to Hogwarts. Harry didn't enjoy it as his heart always ached for his godfather and he missed his friends as well as the safe haven that Hogwarts was...but he dealt because it could always have been much worst.

His unintentional yet solid plans on how to spend the last week of the summer (brushing up on a few textbooks, writing letters to his friends, watching TV etc), came to a metaphorically crashing halt when there was a sudden CRACK from downstairs. It was unmistakably the sound of magic.

Harry jumped up from where he had been sitting on his bed and snatched at his wand that had previously rested on the desk beside his bed. Once upright, his entire body tensed with caution and his mind dashed through possible defensive spells in case it was a group of Death Eaters or any other potential threat.

With each slow step at a time, Harry descended down the staircase and hesitated at the bottom when he heard a light scuffling in the living room. He first wondered if he should announce himself at all or else conceal himself in case the intruder didn't even know he was there. He wasn't Gryffindor for nothing and therefore running wasn't an option.

Harry clutched at his wand and inhaled sharply an exact second before he jumped into the doorway and aimed his wand at the person standing there. Instead of a masked figure, he saw a small, shaking form in front of him.

A child.

'What are you doing here?' Harry lowered his wand but remained cautious.

The boy was huddled on the floor in front of the couch and stared at him with wide, obsidian eyes. His hair was a mess and his clothes even worst.

'I-I don't know.' The boy choked and rubbed the tears from his eyes.

Harry instantly knew this boy was no threat and pocketed his wand as he slowly approached the strange child.

'There was a fire at the orphanage I lived in.' The boy continued. He appeared to be a little braver now that Harry no longer seemed ready to attack him. 'I was trapped...' He sniffled again and the fear was evident in his gaze as he recalled what had happened.

'How did you get out?' Harry encouraged and wondered if this boy was the one who had used magic. He barely looked a day older than six; could a wizard use magic at such a young age? Harry didn't know but he supposed it would make sense if it was possible to use accidental magic at almost any age in extremely threatening situations. He wondered if he had done anything when Voldemort had showed up to kill him as a baby. Harry tried not to think about that and focused on the visitor instead.

'I was s-so scared.' The boy explained. 'I yelled but no one came to save me. I closed my eyes and then m-my tummy felt weird.' He exhaled and looked around at the too-clean house that Petunia and Harry kept in perfect condition.

'Then I was here.'

'Oh.' Harry nodded. 'So you did use magic.'

'Magic?' The boy stared at Harry with intense curiosity. 'Like...making stuff disappear? And-and hiding from bullies when they chase you?'

'Um, yeah.' Harry thought the boy had been referring to the typical “rabbit out of a hat” kind of “magic” until there was the mentioning of the bullies. Suddenly he felt an odd sense of similarity between himself and the boy. A feeling that lingered until it was replaced with an intense form of protectiveness.

'What's your name?' He asked. 'I'm Harry. Harry Potter.'

'Oh, um...Toby.' He boy slowly got to his feet. If possible, he looked even more vulnerable before; he hugged himself with his arms and his gaze darted nervously around the room.

'Where am I?'

'This is my aunt and uncle's house.' Harry explained. 'They're on a holiday now though so it's just us.'

'Why didn't you go with them?' Toby wondered.

'They don't like me very much.' Harry frowned.

'Oh.' Toby uttered a simple and short word in response but with a tone of complete understanding that made it mean so much more to Harry than it should.

Not sure what else to do, Harry crossed the room and searched for the TV remote so that he could check the news for any reports of a burning orphanage. He felt Toby's gaze follow him across the room and tried to look friendly since the boy had moved on from being confused and fearful to terribly unsure and distrusting. Once a scowl formed on the child's face, Harry was reminded of someone else he knew but couldn't quite figure out who.

It was true. The orphanage had been burned to the ground. Most of the children had gotten out and yet a few hadn't. It was a tragedy and Harry felt anger towards who or what had caused this to happen.

--

After ten minutes of watching the horrible report, he switched it off and remembered his visitor who had fallen silent from the moment Harry had moved towards the TV.

'Are you okay?' Harry knew it was a stupid question to ask and that knowledge came from experience, and yet he was at loss of what else to say to Toby as the orphaned little boy stared at the blank TV screen across the room.

'Where am I gonna to go?' Toby's face crumbled into sadness. 'No one wants me cuz I'm a freak!'

'No, you're not a freak.' Harry replied and stood over Toby who was crouched only a few feet away.

'No one likes me.' Toby added.

'I like you.' Harry tried to reassure the boy.

'Y-you do?' Toby swallowed and stared up at Harry with shock and awe. 'Really?'

'Yeah.' Harry nodded. 'And I know what it's like to have no family.'

'But you live with your family.' Toby was confused as he looked around the room once again as though its appearance had changed in the past ten minutes.

'My aunt and uncle don't love me.' Harry sighed as he spoke the painful truth aloud. 'They're not my real family because of that.'

'Can I stay with you?' Toby pleaded and rushed to Harry's side. 'Please? I won't be a bother, I promise!'

'What?' Harry had not expected that and quickly became quite anxious about the situation.

'We're both different cuz we can to magic and stuff.' Toby explained desperately. 'We both don't have families and...and you like me!' He sniffed as his eyes leaked tears and Harry had a terrible time trying to find a way out of giving the boy an answer.

'I can't, Toby.' Harry insisted and hated how he felt like a monster for it. 'I'm just sixteen; I don't know how to be a parent. And I am only here for a week and then...' He paused and considered his options for a moment. He had the entire house to himself for a week and then he'll be back at Hogwarts. The magical school was a castle with many places to hide a three-headed-dog so simply one small child would be no problem?

'Toby, in a week I have to go back to school.' Harry sighed. 'I'll take a bus to the train station, ride the train for hours and than attend a special feast in which is for students and staff only. I share a room with four other guys my age and I have classes...it's impossible. I can't bring you with me, everyone will know and send you away.'

'Not if we're careful.' Toby whispered. 'I'll sleep under your bed and only come out when no one is there. I like reading so if you give me some books, I can wait for you to come back. Please, I'll be good...I swear!' And no longer resisting, the boy flung himself at Harry; his small arms wrapped around Harry's middle and latched his plea into place.

'Please!' Toby sobbed. 'I'll do anything to stay with you, Harry!'

Harry was about to do what was necessary and push the boy away before he either called the police or owl'ed Dumbledore. Halfway through that painful decision, he glanced down and saw Toby's tearful eyes staring up at him. Instead of the lost little boy he'd only just met...Harry saw himself.

Saying “no” and sending the boy away was no longer an option.

'On one condition.' Harry frowned at Toby and couldn't believe he was about to do this.

'Anything!' Toby almost shouted with hope. 'Anything, I promise!'

'You have to do everything I tell you to, okay?' Harry tried to sound stern so that the boy would take him seriously. 'Unless I say you can trust someone, you have to do everything I say. You can't trust anyone else though unless I say so first, alright?'

Toby stared at him and thought about the offer before he nodded his head in agreement to those terms.

'I'm good at doing what I'm told.' Toby sighed. 'I promise, Harry. Now can I stay with you?'

'Fine.' Harry exhaled heavily. 'As long as you promise.'

'I do! I promise.' Toby grinned and hugged Harry tighter. Once his desperation faded, he quickly let go and shuffled his feet with embarrassment. Toby let loose a yawn and looked over at the window to see that it was dark outside.

'Um, are you hungry?' Harry wondered awkwardly and wasn't sure what was supposed to happen next.

'Yes.' Toby nodded as he stifled a second yawn.

Harry kept an eye on Toby as they went into the kitchen and he made them both a jam sandwich each.

'What's your school like?' Toby asked a question after every swallow. 'Do they let you use magic? It's still real, right?'

'Yeah, Magic is real.' Harry nodded. 'Hogwarts is a full school of magic. It's where witches and wizards go to learn spells and potions, stuff like that.'

'Cool, really?' Toby smiled and fell silent as he imagined such a place.

Harry said nothing and at first he wondered what his friends would think of his new...what? His new friend? Responsibility? Son? He shuddered a little at the last word since he was certain that he was far too young for that kind of stuff yet.

Then he pondered on what Sirius would think. Knowing his godfather, the man would probably considerate it all to be a new adventure and would encourage the raising a young marauder in secret; surely Sirius would have been proud and love to help out? Harry's chest ached again as he thought of his deceased godfather and instantly longed for another distraction.

'You're a bit dirty.' Harry noticed the poor condition of the boy's ugly too-large clothes.

'I think I can find something for you to wear until tomorrow.' He gestured for the six-year-old to follow him out into the hallway. Toby gulped down his last piece of bread and hopped off the chair to trail behind his new guardian.

Harry located some of his old clothes from storage and ushered Toby to the bathroom. He was relieved that the boy was perfectly fine to have a bath himself and didn't require any extra assistance. Just to be sure though, Harry kept the door partially ajar in case he had to rush in and prevent a drowning.

He wondered if he should let Toby sleep in Dudley's bed but knew that meant the boy would be in a separate room if something happened. With Voldemort out there...Harry always expected something to happen. So he gathered a pile of old blankets from a cupboard and made himself a bed on the floor of his own room so that Toby could sleep on his.

'This is your bed.' Toby frowned upon the arrangement once he had returned from the bathroom. 'That's not fair.'

'It's the rules.' Harry replied with a shrug and shut the door before he switched off the light and lay down. Toby was already in the bed and didn't made another sound all night.

As the moon raised higher in the sky, Harry slowly began to comprehend what he had done. In the space of two hours, he had become the father-figure to a six-year-old boy that had shown up by accidental magic.

An orphan, just like he was.

As a result, Harry would be solely responsible for this boy in every way they were both unfamiliar with; fresh and fitting clothes, full meals three times a day, assistance with education, comfort whenever necessary, protection, rules based upon the well-being of the child, supervision, as well as...love and guidance.

The heaviness of his realizations came thundering down upon Harry, discouraging him to the brink of wanting to flee. It was then that he became more determined to make this work. They were a sort of family now and Harry was going to fulfill whatever role he had to in order to give this child what he needed.

The first thing Harry had to get used to happened the moment the sun became clear enough in the sky that following morning; he was woken by a small hand that reached out to shake his shoulder.

'What?' Harry jerked awake and instantly reached for his glasses and wand. He sighed in relief when he merely saw Toby crouching in front of him and staring at him with a curious expression. There was no danger, no attacker and no need to remain tensed for action.

'I'm hungry.' Toby said. 'But I didn't know if I was allowed to touch anything.' The younger boy sighed and lowered his head with shame.

'Oh, okay.' Harry got up and quickly changed into the first clothes he grabbed while Toby wandered outside of the room. When Harry joined him shortly after, the was lingering near the fridge in the kitchen. Deciding on something practiced and relatively simple, Harry began to make some eggs for them both.

When the Dursleys had left they made sure that there was only enough food in the house for Harry to survive one week and therefore Harry had been very careful with his consumption since he had no muggle money to spend. With Toby around, it was already proving to be a lot more difficult than it had originally seemed. Harry was actually glad that Toby hadn't dared to touch anything.

'Here.' He placed a plate on the table in front of where Toby was patiently sitting. The boy had not moved from that seat the entire time Harry cooked, and also made sure that he could keep the teenager in his sights without having to change his position. The boy was either very nervous about being around his new guardian who was still relatively a stranger or else he was just naturally curious. Perhaps it was both?

'Thanks.' Toby nodded and started eating right away. Harry sat across from him and a blanket of silence fell over them as their plates were emptied. Toby headed upstairs to use the toilet while Harry washed up and than it was time for Harry to set a few rules.

Toby was a quick learner; after only twenty minutes of listening, he could recite each of the locations for the inside and outside places he wasn't allowed to go or touch and every limitation that occurred inside the household; particularly involving the little amount of food they had and the fact that he couldn't be seen by any of the neighbors.

And with a clever structure in place, Harry and Toby spent the first three days doing basic chores together (proving to be quite a team, also), watching TV, talking about Hogwarts, and getting to know each other a little more.

--

On the fourth day Harry and Toby had their first disaster. Toby had wanted to try Harry's wand and couldn't understand the rules that the Ministry had in place. It resulted in an argument and Toby had stormed off to lock himself in Dudley's bedroom for over an hour.

Afterwards the boy had felt terribly guilty and apologized as he remembered the rule of always doing as he was told. Harry had been unsure of what to do and felt fortunate that he had decided to let Toby cool off for a while. After they'd had a proper talk about the situation, Harry had forgiven Toby and things settled down once again.

Although from that moment onwards, Harry was much more aware of the younger boy's grumpiness and began to mentally compile a list of possible ways in which to avoid any outbursts again. One of those at Hogwarts and their entire scheme would be over.

--

As Harry had planned, on the second-last night before the return to Hogwarts, he spent all morning preparing Toby to leave the house. They would go to the Leaky Cauldron and stay there until it was time to board the train to Hogwarts. It seemed as though it would make things much more simple and besides, Harry had to pick up his new school things anyway.

A part of him wondered why he hadn't done that from day one since nothing was physically restraining him to the Dursley's house. Perhaps it was the ounce of hope he continued to hold onto that his friends would come to take him to the Weasleys, or maybe it was the mild solitude and lack of general existence that he had felt content with?

'This is so exciting!' Toby grinned as he followed Harry around the bedroom while his guardian packed. Harry gathered his school trunk and his wand before he nodded towards Toby and led the way downstairs.

'Yeah.' Harry replied as he stressed over how cautious he felt and the fear that clenched him over the fact that not only was it possible that someone was watching him, but what happened if they got to Toby as well? He might have a chance of defending himself and yet he had to protect Toby as well because the little boy didn't even have a wand, nor did he know how to use magic.

Harry would mull over the worst case scenarios later because he and Toby had to get moving.

It was dark outside as Harry turned to locked the house behind them. Toby went quiet and seemed naturally cautious of their surroundings. He obediently followed Harry to a small park and watched with nervousness as Harry raised his wand and at first nothing appeared to have happened. Seconds later, the triple-decker bus magically drove towards them and came to a halt.

'Whoa.' Toby gasped. He stood partially behind Harry and remained as unnoticeable as possible as they chose a bed near the back.

Toby shuffled close to Harry because his new friend was the only one he felt comfortable around. He watched the other witches and wizards sleeping and felt very ill with the constant movements of the bus, and yet for the entire journey to the Leaky Cauldron...Toby did not utter a single sound.

'Who is 'e?' Stan, the conductor of the Knight bus, asked as Harry and Toby moved to leave the moment they had reached their destination.

'No one.' Harry replied quickly. The boys were relieved to have gotten away from further suspicion as Stan shrugged and a moment later the bus drove out of sight.

Due to the time of the night, no whispers followed Harry as they would have had he and Toby arrived any earlier than 11pm. Tom, the innkeeper, gave them a room without a single comment and for that both boys were thankful.

--

Toby sat on the bed he and Harry were sharing for the two nights that they would be there and continued to move in complete silence. He wanted to ask about the brief magic he had witnessed and ask more questions about Hogwarts, but his reserved nature that had been overcome because of the events of the past few days was re-emerging.

Harry was yet to notice that the six-year-old boy slowly built up his defensive walls once again and submerged into his inability to trust and feel safe. This did not apply to Harry and it was because of that in which the bespectacled teenager failed to notice the changes in the younger boy.

They headed straight to bed with the intention of getting up early the next morning to do their shopping. Harry hadn't heard from his friends lately although he assumed that they were at the burrow and would indeed be waiting for him on the platform as they'd agreed to several months ago.

He hadn't written anything important in his letters, such as the Dursleys being away or Toby showing up, but Harry still wondered why Mrs Weasley hadn't invited him to stay with them as surely she would know about his relatives at least.

This was the first summer since before Hogwarts that Harry hadn't seen his friends at some point prior to heading back to school. He missed them terribly and also dreaded what they would think of his new situation concerning Toby. Ron was likely to be okay with it, but Hermione? Harry shuddered at the thought of the lectures his ears would endure and the pleading he'd have to perform in order to stop her from telling someone as she was certain to disagree with it.

As Harry fell asleep that night he expected to have nightmares about Sirius, the Ministry or other darker concerns. Instead, for the first night since school concluded, Harry merely dreamed of something relatively normal and non-frightening; dragons chasing snitches above the Forbidden Forest at Hogwarts.

It was the best night's sleep he'd had in a long time and he didn't realize it was because of the small boy that cuddled up to him during the night; Toby was also trying to fend off subconscious monsters and for that night, they both succeeded.

As expected, Toby was utterly shocked and amazed by everything about Diagon Alley from the second they entered right past an hour after they'd left.

'This place is full of magic!' Toby stared around at the many stores in the cobbled street while instinctively staying close to Harry in fear of being lost in the crowd.

'Sure is.' Harry nodded as he walked towards Gringotts.

'And there are places like this everywhere?'Toby wondered. 'Non-magical people can't see them, can they?'

'They're called muggles.' Harry said. 'And no, they have no idea about all of this.'

'Cuz of the spells and stuff?' Toby guessed.

Harry nodded and entered Gringotts while remembering the first time Hagrid had taken him there.

'They're goblins.' Harry told Toby as the boy opened his mouth to ask what the creatures were that filled the spaces behind the desks at the magical bank. 'They're not very friendly so stay close.' He recalled what Hagrid told him and felt a little calmer when Toby hurried to his side and grasped his hand.

Harry spoke with the primary goblin and Toby didn't say a single word the entire time they headed to the vault and withdrew several of Harry's golden coins.

The younger boy continued to remain mute until several minutes after they'd left the bank.

'Can I get a wand too?' Toby pointed at Ollivander's.

'Sorry, no.' Harry sighed. 'You have to wait until you can go to Hogwarts, at eleven.'

Toby scowled and crossed his arms but didn't argue as he had learned his lesson the last time he'd tried. Rules were rules and to stay with Harry he had to make sure he obeyed every one of them.

Harry did his basic shopping while telling Toby a bit about each class that required the items he purchased (although this mostly occurred when they bought the textbooks).

'Ew!' Toby pulled face at the ingredients Harry needed to refill his potions kit. This was also the first time he began to leave Harry's side for even a brief moment in order to have a look around the store.

'Does all this stuff help with potions?' Toby wondered. 'Can you make any potion in the world?'

'I can't.' Harry answered and cringed at the sight of the pickled cat eyes. 'But I bet my friend Hermione could if she had any book she wanted. I bet Snape could make anything though, probably the really bad ones.'

'Snape?' Toby glanced at him with confusion.

'Professor Snape, he teaches Potions. If you call that teaching.' Harry frowned.

'He's a git.'

'Oh.' Toby nodded and returned to the set of scales he was most interested in. 'I like the idea of making potions. It's a bit like cooking and I always had fun when the lady at the orphanage let me try a few things. Mostly rice or cakes though.'

Harry was busy measuring something particularly slimy that he only heard half of what Toby had said.

When he finished and turned around to check on the boy, he was suddenly struck with a very unsettling sight. Toby had always seemed the same to him, with his dark hair and eyes as well as his generally frowning yet cautious expressions, but at that particular moment Harry realized who the boy had reminded him of. Toby stood there with his dark hair that reached around his ears, his obsidian eyes that searched the jars curiously as though he was weighing his options, and with the black shirt he wore...Harry shivered.

He looked like a younger version of Severus Snape. Toby's nose was even a little longer than average and there was a certain amount of cunning in the boy that took skill and instinct well beyond his age.

'Professor Snape is lucky.' Toby was oblivious to the shocked stare he received from Harry. 'Getting to make all those potions.'

'Erm, yeah.' Harry regained his composure and felt an inkling of dislike towards the boy that could easily be Snape's son. Then he felt guilty because Harry knew better than anyone that to be judged by who your father had been was terribly unfair. This boy may be the son of Snape, but Toby was still his own person. Maybe some of the mother's genes had rubbed off on him?

Harry couldn't believe how easily he had considered this kind, curious and nervous boy of six-years-old to be Snape's son. The nasty git of the Slytherin dungeons. He thought for a moment and let Toby look around the store that held the most interest to him and knew that it didn't change anything. Not really. So what if this boy might be Snape's son? Snape wasn't there and Harry was. Toby was his responsibility now and regardless of who his father might be, there was no turning away from what he had already decided.

'Could you teach me some stuff?' Toby asked as they left the store a few minutes later. 'Like basic spells and potions, or whatever?'

'Maybe.' Harry replied. 'At Hogwarts.' He knew that Snape's son should be educated because the man was walking knowledge. As a result, he made additional plans to teach Toby some more basic things like levitation charms and maybe even a boil-cure potion.

Harry sighed heavily as realized there was no way Hermione couldn't know about this. Perhaps with a pupil to bestow her intellect and bossiness upon she would warm up to the idea of the boy secretly living in the Gryffindor tower?

Maybe.

--

The trip to Diagon Alley was a success. No one had whispered much about Harry and because he was the boy-who-lived, no one even noticed the younger boy trailing along beside him.

He purchased all of his school things, three books for Toby to read, as well as some muggle clothes (bought at a second-hand store outside of the Leaky Cauldron, of course), and a robe or two after the boy's pleading for magical clothes; typical to any possible son of Snape, Toby adored the black robes the most as it made him feel like a real wizard.

'I'm gonna learn lots of magic.' Toby mumbled as he lay in the bed to sleep that night. 'When I get a wand, I might not even need it cuz I'll be so good.' He yawned. 'No one will pick on me...' His words trailed off as he began to fall asleep, no doubt tired from his eventful venture into the magical world for the first time.

'Goodnight, Toby.' Harry whispered and moved to sit at a desk across the room. He lit a candle and poised his quill above the surface of a fresh piece of parchment.

He knew it was unavoidable in most aspects as he simply had to use this advantage available to him. But he had to do it right and very carefully or else it would all collapse in front of him.

Sighing again, Harry began to write nervously and flipped through a book he'd bought on disguising handwriting. The recipient wouldn't expect Harry Potter to use Slytherin green ink and to write with excellent handwriting as though he'd been born to use a quill. There were no ink blotches and his English was proper, he hoped.

Once Harry had finished writing, he handed the folded parchment to Hedwig and went to bed. As he lay under the covers and began to slip into a slumber, Harry tried not to feel nervous about the return to Hogwarts or the long day ahead of him tomorrow.

He still had to find the time in which to work out all of the important plans for their secret mission.

--

Far away, Hedwig delivered the urgent letter to the desk it was meant for. She was not seen nor heard as she came and went, as per her instructions.

An hour later a tired and frustrated Severus Snape left his personal laboratory and found that letter sitting on his desk where it had awaited his return.

After several cautious spells were cast and deemed the object harmless, he lifted the letter from his desk and unfolded it. He instantly knew that it had been written by a student, possibly a Slytherin.

Severus narrowed his eyes as something didn't seem quite right but nevertheless he couldn't see any reason for a student to go to such trouble as to mess with a letter that wasn't even a full page long.

Lowering his eyes to the page, Severus began to read:

Professor Snape,

I do apologize for contacting you during your summer, however there is something I wish to ask you. As a student in your Potions class at Hogwarts, I have always found your material to be of great interest. I may not get the best grades, however I do try my best. You set the standards at perfection and while it is understandable, it often posses a great challenge for a muggle-raised pupil.

Anyway, the matter I wish to discuss is that my younger brother can't come to Hogwarts yet but he has become very interested in Potions. I was wondering if I sent you several questions he asks, might you be able to answer them? I understand you're probably too busy to bother with the silly questions of a six-year-old, however he reminds me a great deal of yourself. He is eager to study the subject and I do not believe that I have enough knowledge in which to provide answers. We are orphans, sir, and there is no one else we know to turn to for this.

Wouldn't it be impressive if he came to Hogwarts and was equipped to become as good as yourself? Everyone would know he was your student as it would be undeniable once they see him in action.

Please sir, we would be eternally grateful.

-S.J.E

Severus stared at the page for a long time. He could not recall a student by such a name although the “J” was likely to be a middle name. There were a number of orphans however, because of the First Wizarding War, and yet they would have to be in their later years.

He frowned upon the concept of an older student not being able to answer the simple Potions questions thought up by a six-year-old, and yet the offer was still mildly tempting.

Severus noted the green ink and was certain there was a strong possibility that the letter was from one of his snakes. And yet “muggle-raised” was not a phrase one would associate with any of them. Or at least they would not offer this information so easily if they had indeed been sorted into the house commonly known for their obsession with blood purity.

Curiosity was something Severus resented and yet could not contain. All he had to go by was the request bestowed upon him and a mental pile of assumptions about a possible-Slytherin student who took his class and yet only gained an “average” marking range.

The S.J.E merely added to the infuriating lack of identification.

Reaching for a quill and spare piece of parchment, Severus began to write a reply with only one sole goal in mind:

He had to know who this student was!

Toby and Harry were up early that following morning. Despite how hungry and somewhat tired each of them still were, the boys focused only on packing Harry's trunk and leaving the Leaky Cauldron as soon as possible. They used muggle transport such as the London bus service to get to King's Cross station.

However, by the time they had arrived it was barely eight-thirty and there was still plenty of time until the Hogwarts Express was due to depart at exactly eleven o'clock.

'Can we get something to eat first?' Toby dared to ask.

Harry glanced down at the boy for a moment and nodded. 'Yeah, let's go in there.' He pointed to a small café and was thankful that he'd transferred some of his wizarding money into muggle money. If Harry hadn't done that than they would have no food until the train and feast; both in which Toby was be likely to miss out on.

As the two boys ate their sandwiches without much conversation, Harry mused on how strange it was to not only have to be aware of his surroundings but he also now had an entirely new responsibility on his shoulders. He glanced at Toby (who was looking around and swinging his feet while he ate), and prayed that he could achieve what he had originally thought to be a mere matter of careful planning.

This boy's life and future was in his hands.

'How long will it take to get to Hogwarts?' Toby wondered.

'A while.' Harry sighed and glanced at his half-eaten sandwich but made no move to take another bite. Despite his previous hunger; his appetite was gone.

'I'll be dark when we get there.'

'Must be a long way to go.' Toby commented as he brushed the crumbs from his shirt. He drank his soda and glanced at Harry with a curious expression.

'It's a secret, right? That I'm gonna be there too?'

'Yeah.' Harry replied. 'No one can know unless I've told them privately first. And that would only be my two best friends.'

'Won't everyone notice me on the train and stuff?' Toby frowned.

'I've thought about that'. Harry shared. 'And it's risky but it should work. I've got a cloak that can make anyone invisibly. If you wear that than no one should know you're there.'

'Oh wow, really?' Toby grinned. 'I'll be invisible?'

'Yeah.' Harry stood and grabbed his trunk from where he had propped it up against the side of their table.

'Come on, we'd better get going.'

Toby nodded and jumped off his seat. Like a few times since they'd met, Toby latched onto Harry's nearest hand with his smaller one and inched closer to the teenager's side as they entered the busy train station that was crowded with muggles.

Normally, Harry would be reminded to grab a trolley for his trunk to make transporting it much easier, but this was the first time he had come to Kings Cross without an adult to join him at least part-way. Even the Dursleys had made sure he'd had a trolley. And yet, the trunk had wheels and therefore it never crossed Harry's mind that it might be easier to maneuver with a trolley. Although that required the use of both hands and Toby had currently snatched one of them to fulfill a small longing for safety and reassurance.

Harry could feel the younger boy's movements each time Toby squirmed or looked over his shoulder. The teenager found amusement in the fact that the boy was clearly attempting to search for at least a glimpse of the magical train. Toby was oblivious to the fact that such a thing was not possible, seeing as they were surrounded by muggles, and yet Harry had decided not to tell him. Harry himself hadn't known that fact either until he'd been given his train ticket by Hagrid that told him the impossible.

'What's it look like?' Toby frowned as they stopped a few feet away from platform ten.

'It's red.' Harry shrugged. 'You'll know it when you see it. Muggles can't know about Hogwarts so the train is on a hidden platform.'

'Oh.' Toby stared at his feet. His moment of silence provided Harry with plenty of time to extract his invisibility cloak from his trunk.

'Once we're on the platform you've got to wear this. And be careful not to bump into anyone if you can help it.' Harry instructed. Ideally Toby should wear it before they went anywhere else but if muggles saw the younger boy suddenly vanish from wearing a weird item of clothing than the word might spread to a wizard and they'd be in serious trouble. It was safer to wait until a place where it would be less of a shock and without the risk of causing an undesirable scene.

'Yup.' Toby nodded. 'Is that the magic cloak?'

Harry nodded and glanced around at the area although there wasn't much to look at other than the late businessmen on their way to work or mothers talking on the phone as they walked with their kids. It was almost nine and they had two hours until the magical train was scheduled to depart the station.

Toby fidgeted on the spot and tried to remain quiet as he knew that Harry was thinking about something important. A tall, dark skinned man hurried past the pair and unintentionally startled Toby as he knocked him and sent the boy toppling sideways.

'Ouch!' Toby hissed as his arm smacked against the corner of Harry's trunk. 'Git.' He added and glared after the man that hadn't even noticed what he had done. Rubbing his arm, Toby huffed and decided to move several more inches towards Harry.

'That's why you need to pay close attention to what's going on around you.' Harry hated the lecturing tone his voice developed as he said that but the teenager was was getting quite stressed out about his plan. Especially when so far he had only been able to figure out the basics of getting Toby on board the Hogwarts Express; everything after that was yet to be properly considered.

'Do you see that wall there?' Harry pointed towards the important barrier between platforms nine and ten.

'Yeah.' Toby glanced at it and wondered if it had something to do with the special train he had been looking for.

'It's got a spell on it.' Harry explained in a low voice. 'If we walk straight at it than we can go through it, right onto the secret platform.' Harry knew very little about children of Toby's age and yet vaguely he wondered if simplifying his words was really necessary. Although he was talking to a young child and Harry had no intention of repeating himself several times over if there was an easier and quicker way around it.

'Are you sure?' Toby stared intently at the brick wall. 'It doesn't look any different to the other ones.'

'That's the point.' Harry clutched the handle of his trunk and hoped that being two hours early would not impact the barrier nor his plans to board the train as soon as possible.

The boys waited until a nearby train left the muggle part of the station because the area would be less crowded than before.

Once the timing was right, they each strode forward and directly towards the would-be solid wall. Toby had continued to hold Harry's hand as they increased their paces but just as he thought they were about to crash into the bricks, he pulled back a little and squeezed his eyes tightly closed. Toby allowed Harry to pull him along until they had stepped right through the wall and arrived onto platform nine and three quarters.

'Whoa.' Toby gasped as he stared the Hogwarts express for the first time.

Harry was relieved to notice that arriving early had changed nothing and the station looked as it always did; minus the obvious rushing about and shouting farewells.

Taking in the seriousness of their secretive situation, Toby held out his arms for the cloak that would enable him to hide from the view of others. He made sure to keep a close eye on as many people he could as he pulled it around himself. Harry gave Toby a brief thumbs up to let him know that he was indeed concealed. The young boy exhaled with relief and was proud of himself for achieving that tremendously important aspect of the plan.

Toby knew nothing of the magical world other than the few things Harry had told him and therefore in the little boy's mind he was convinced that if he could only get to Hogwarts unnoticed than everything else would be fine.

Harry however, was far more knowledgeable and didn't dare to take even a single risky move as he placed his trunk in the luggage compartment and remained cautious the entire time. Luckily, he had also released Hedwig from her cage when he'd sent the letter to Snape the previous night and in doing so he had made certain that she knew he'd meet her back at Hogwarts.

It was somewhat of a battle to walk from the luggage compartment to the actual interior body of the train; Harry was terribly paranoid that Toby was no longer at his side and yet could not check. Toby also wanted to grab Harry's hand for safety but was unable to as he knew that such an action would not assist in his concealment.

Harry had always intended to board the train rather quickly once they had reached the magical platform. He was further motivated to do so the second he spotted a familiar family of Slytherin blondes; the last thing he needed was any form of confrontation with a Malfoy.

It also caused a pit of anger to swell inside him at the sight of Lucius Malfoy. He had been at the graveyard during Harry's fourth year where Voldemort had tortured him. No one believed him and Mr Malfoy had escaped any form of justified punishment. Than he'd showed up with the other Death Eaters at the Ministry of Magic and tried to steal to prophecy for Voldemort; Harry believed Lucius also played a part in Sirius' death as dueling with him was what had further spurred Bellatrix Lestrange to kill Harry's godfather. Yet again, by some unknown miracle (or a particularly high level of bribery, no doubt), Lucius Malfoy had yet again escaped the clutches of Azkaban.

Forcing his gaze away from he Slytherin who had thankfully not even noticed his presence, Harry turned and boarded the train.

--

The compartment Harry selected was obviously empty (which was to be expected since they were early), and the only real reason he'd chosen it was because of how familiar it was. This was the same compartment in which he had first met Ron and Hermione on the way to begin their first year at Hogwarts.

'You can talk now.' Harry said to Toby as he shut and locked the compartment door. Harry sank into the same spot on the seat as he had five years ago and exhaled a breath of relative relief.

'Do I have to keep this cloak on the whole way?' Toby couldn't help complaining as he had to hold the cloak around himself to prevent it from sliding off around him. Even if it was twice his size.

'Isn't it a really long way?'

'Someone will notice if you take it off.' Harry was genuinely sympathetic toward the boy as it wasn't something he'd want to do either.

'Sorry, Toby.'

Toby nodded even though Harry was blind to his movement. He figured that even though the train ride would be boring and his arms were likely to ache, at least it was only for that one day and it would get him to Hogwarts unnoticed.

Harry leaned back against the seat and vowed the buy lots of sweets from the trolley to make the trip better for Toby.

It was then that he heard an odd tapping noise from above the large window of their compartment. Seeing the deep brown owl that clutched an important-looking envelope in its beak, Harry stood and opened the smaller window above and retrieved the letter. He winced when the owl nipped at his fingers, hard enough to draw a speck of blood. He hurriedly fished in his pockets for some change and once the owl was paid, it flew back out the window; Harry had even slammed it shut behind the offensive owl with an air of annoyance.

Breaking the weird crest seal, Harry ripped the envelope open and vaguely wondered why it had taken so long for Snape to reply. The letter was obviously from the sour dungeon bat of Slytherin loyalties; who else would own such a dark and offensive bird that seemed to hate Harry upon first sight?

'What's that?' Toby wondered as he invisibly watched what was happening from where he sat beside Harry.

'Nothing really. It's just a letter about school stuff.' Harry brushed off the boy's question and quickly unfolded the finest piece of parchment he had ever touched.

Inhaling a breath of anticipation, Harry lowered his eyes to read the letter's contents in which were written in the blackest ink he'd ever seen...

Harry was not at all encouraged by the letter so far. He half-considered just skipping over the complaints and insults to read the very end. But with less than two hours until the train was to depart, he honestly could not say that he had anything better to do.

Sighing heavily, Harry lowered his gaze to the lengthly page once again and fought the urge to skim over most parts of the long sentences in which he felt forced to read.

'What?' Harry gasped as he could not believe that Snape was really thinking of letting him ask random questions and in return he wold actually provide proper response. As creepy as it was to consider Snape to even know the meaning of “nurture”, this was still a good thing. Perhaps this additional aspect of the overall plan would work?

Imagine if the sour man knew that the six-year-old boy could be his son...

'Are you in trouble?' Toby interrupted Harry's reading as he watched his guardian's face shift from anger to confusion and than rest with plain annoyance.

'I don't think so.' Harry huffed. 'He's just being a right foul git as always.'

'Oh, like Snape?' Toby wondered.

'Yeah.' Harry frowned and wanted to crumple the letter a hundred times over. There were still a few lines left in the letter in which Harry was yet to read. He decided to finish as soon as possible so that he could formulate a reply. Or perhaps Harry should wait a moment to cool down? Cussing at Snape was a highly unlikely method in which to get what he wanted.

Underneath the fancy “SS” signature was the following lines:

I do not appreciate being compared to a six-year-old brat. I demand that you refrain from making such atrocious assumptions in the future or else this method of correspondences shall reach an untimely end.

'Git.' Harry muttered again.

'It's sure getting busy out there.' Toby glanced towards the compartment door where several students of various ages passed by in the corridor. Harry looked up as well and wondered what the time was. If more people were entering the train than it must be getting closer to eleven.

He would answer Snape's letter later but for now Harry had more pressing matters at hand; he had to keep Toby hidden for as long as it took for the train to leave the station.

Hopefully such an achievement will proceed with continued success involving the concealment of the six-year-old boy.

'What are your friends like?' Toby remembered that Harry had mentioned two of his best friends in which were apparently going to be let in on their secret.

'Ron's got red hair and comes from a big family.' Harry answered with a light shrug. 'He's great and really funny. Hermione has brown hair and is a bit annoying at first but she's alright once you get to know her. She's really smart and comes up with lots of clever things. Her parents are muggles so she knows more about the stuff we do but if you mention something like a TV to Ron, he won't know what that is.'

'Really?' Toby found it strange that no one would know what a TV was. They never had one at the orphanage and yet he knew exactly what it looked like, how it worked and what it was used for. Maybe they just didn't have the right books in the magical world?

'Does it really matter if you're from a muggle family or a magic one?' Toby lowered his gaze to his lap as he had no idea which his own family had belonged to.

'No.' Harry said sternly. 'Some people think so though, but it's all rubbish. Everyone can be great at magic no matter what their blood is. Hermione is one of the best witches in the school and her parents are muggles! She's a bit better than Ron too and he's from an all-magical family.'

'There he is!' A voice called out before Toby could answer. The compartment door slid open to reveal none other than Ron Weasley himself.

'Blimey, Harry, we've been looking everywhere for you!'

'I thought we were going to meet you on the platform?' Hermione added as she came into view as well. She was in the process of tucking her wand away - which would explain how they had entered the compartment when Harry had previously locked the door.

'Change of plans.' Harry shrugged.

He couldn't help grinning at them both as he had really missed his two best friends. With Ron and Hermione around, things already felt a bit better and his excitement at returning to Hogwarts began to emerge.

'Shut the door.' Harry added when his friends moved to join him. 'And don't sit there.' He cautioned Ron as his redheaded friend made a move to sit right where Toby was concealed underneath the cloak.

'What's with all the secrecy, Harry?' Hermione asked with an amused smile.

'I'll explain later.' Was the only answer he gave them for now. He trusted his friends even though he dreaded having to tell them, but it was the possible eavesdroppers he didn't trust even the slightest.

Ron and Hermione exchanged concerned glances but neither decided to push the matter further. They didn't know what Harry had been going through in the last few months following the loss of Sirius. Just to be safe, Ron shut and locked the compartment door again before he joined Hermione on the seat across from their best friend.

'So...how are you feeling, Harry?' Hermione asked with a sympathetic sigh.

'Fine.' Harry responded and quickly dismissed the topic with his tone.

Toby fidgeted in his seat and he wondered if he had missed an important part of the conversation; Harry appeared to be bothered by something. Toby was also nervous that he and Harry were not alone anymore and that the other two who sat across from him were basically complete strangers.

'How long have you been here, mate?' Ron changed the subject. 'I didn't think your relatives would let you come this early. We're only here because mum had to leave early to help Charlie with something last minute. And dad is working to contain an outbreak of biting ribbons that someone's charmed and sold to a bunch of muggles.'

'My aunt and uncle are away on a trip so I came here myself.' Harry revealed and Hermione instantly gasped just as he had expected her to.

'But with you-know-who still out there? And with what happened at the Ministry? How could Dumbledore just allow this?' She scowled. 'You could have stayed with us! I hope they at least had some aurors watching the place.'

Harry had been concerned about that as well but for different reasons. He had considered that he was being watched and if that was the case than Dumbledore would surely know exactly what was going on...unless the entire Order of the Phoenix had been told as well.

And Snape was a member.

Harry suddenly experienced the urge to flee, although from what he wasn't quite sure.

'Calm down, Hermione.' Ron complained on Harry's behalf. 'He made it here, didn't he?'

'Yes, well, I suppose so.' Hermione sighed. 'But still...'

'Bet you had a lot of time to do homework or whatever than, eh?' Ron asked Harry with a huff of annoyance.

'Can you believe that horrible essay Snape set us? And during the summer too! How can he be allowed to do that? We don't even know if we're still taking his classes! I bloody hope not.'

Harry didn't answer as he felt Toby straighten with interest beside him. He could not resist the momentary glance he aimed sideways to make sure that Toby was still perfectly concealed.

'Oh honestly, Ron.' Hermione rolled her eyes. 'You can't just study during class, you need to keep refreshing what you know so you don't forget anything. I think Potions is a perfectly useful class and you'd be silly to drop it if you've got the choice.'

'Not bloody likely. And besides, I don't remember anything Snape tries to teach us anyway!' Ron grumbled. 'I'm more worried about my cauldron blowing up, or worst, Snape swooping down to hex us.'

Both friends chuckled at Ron's rant as the train began to move forward and the journey to Hogwarts for their sixth year of magical education officially began.

Toby listened to the friends conversations for a little while until he became bored and stared past Harry to watch the moving surroundings outside the window instead.

After two hours it became apparent to Toby that things had just gotten much worst. He had tried to ignore it at first but his bladder would hear nothing of it. There were still many more hours until they were to reach Hogwarts and Toby knew he was incapable of holding off going to the bathroom for that long.

Taking a huge but desperate risk, Toby aimed his completely invisible shoe at Harry's leg in dire effort to get the teenager's attention; it helped that the cloak was way too big on him and therefore Toby was still not seen by the others.

'Ouch!.' Harry hissed before he could stop himself and wondered what had gotten into Toby. The younger boy knew that no amount of boredom was worth giving up the secret of their mission; it was because of that fact that Harry knew something was wrong.

'Harry, please.' Hermione sighed and rolled her eyes skyward. 'It's obvious you're hiding something.' She reasoned.

'Like what?' Ron turned away from the chocolate frog cards in his hands and glanced at the seat beside Harry, although he saw nothing there.

'It was a bit weird when you told me not to sit there, mate.' Ron added.

Toby bit his lip and squirmed in his seat as he couldn't endure for much longer. Kicking Harry again, he tried to remain hidden even as he wanted to jump up and run for the bathroom. For a horrible second he actually wondered if the train even had one.

'What?' Harry scowled at Toby as he could not ignore the urgent kicking any more.

Tearing part of the cloak off his head and letting it fall to his shoulders, Toby whimpered towards Harry as he squirmed in his seat.

'I really, really gotta pee!' The boy whined desperately.

'Oh.' Harry glanced at his stunned friends as he tried to figure out a plan. 'We'll be right back and I promise I'll explain everything but it's really important that no one knows about this.' He said seriously.

'It's a matter of life and death.' Harry knew his last words were a tad dramatic and yet they'd had their effect; his friends nodded and became more serious as they watched Harry replace the cloak over Toby's head and lead the little boy to the compartment door.

It was difficult to manage, but Harry and Toby reached the bathroom without their secret being discovered. The only downside was that they had to share a cubicle, which was only weird for Harry as Toby didn't even care.

--

Once done, they ventured back to their compartment and had to increase their paces as Harry had spotted Draco heading their way. With a bit of luck, the Slytherin never saw him and turned the other way because his attention was fortunately elsewhere.

'Stay hidden.' Harry told Toby as he locked the compartment door once again. 'But you can talk now since they know you're here.'

Toby moved towards the seat but the train unnaturally jolted in reaction to passing over a bump and gave a violent jerk of motion. Harry quickly reacted by catching Toby as the boy became visible and fell backwards towards the floor.

'Thanks.' Toby mumbled as Harry placed him onto the seat. 'Sorry.' He added.

'It's okay.' Harry shifted the cloak back over Toby and sat beside him to befall his attention back to his friends.

As expected, Hermione was already in disagreement to the situation while Ron merely appeared curious. Harry's gaze darted to the compartment door for a moment, fearful that someone had seen Toby; no one peered in so their secret remained safe for the time being, at least.

'Who is this boy and why is he here?' Hermione whispered loudly although no one could hear them from outside their compartment.

'His name is Toby and...well, would you like to tell them?' Harry glanced at Toby as little kids always seemed to have a simpler way of explaining things and he was at lost on how to tell his friends.

'Yeah, I s'pose.' Toby inhaled a huge gush of air before he began to speak.

'It's weird talking to someone I can't see.' Ron muttered.

'Shh!' Hermione hissed as she listened to Toby telling them what had happened.

'There was a fire at my orphanage and Harry saids I used accident-magic to get to his house.' Toby explained the best he could.

'I didn't know I did it til he told me, though. But I was real scared and Harry was nice so I didn't want to leave. He said I could stay with him if we kept it secret. I promise to be good, please don't send me away!'

Harry decided that he'd made the right choice in letting Toby tell the tale because Hermione's face instantly softened at the younger boy's terrified tone.

'But you can't hide him at Hogwarts, Harry.' She reasoned.

'Why not?' Ron defended. 'We won't tell and I share the same room as Harry. It can't be too hard, it is a big school and all.'

'And I do everything I'm told!' Toby added. 'I promise I'll be good.'

'It's not just that.' Hermione sighed. 'What about the other boys in your dorm? And for a while year? It's just not going to work.'

'Fine.' Harry frowned. 'Than we'll sleep in the Room of Requirement, I don't care. Toby stays.'

'Neville at least will notice if you're not in the dorm at night and start asking around.' Hermione continued.

'It's an impossible situation no matter how you look at it.'

'Than it's good we have you here too.' Toby smiled although no one saw it. 'Cuz Harry said you're really clever!'

'Exactly.' Harry smirked at Hermione.

'Yeah, I bet you'll think of some brilliant way to hide the kid.' Ron added.

Surrounded by temptation and praise, Hermione couldn't help but become silent as she began to formulate a mental list of all their obstacles and how they may be overcome.

'Well, first things first...' She sighed again. 'We have to be at the feast, so where is Toby going to go then? Wouldn't it be too risky to bring him with us with all those teachers and not to mention being surrounded by hundreds of students?'

Toby instantly gulped and recoiled at those words. Now even he was beginning to doubt and worry.

'He can't go to the common room by himself, it's hard enough for us not to get lost.' Ron added. 'And we don't know the password.'

'He can wait in the Room of Requirement.' Harry decided. 'I'll get him after the feast and he can hide under my bed until we figure out what to do.'

'But-' Hermione went to protest until she paused and realized that it really was their only option.

'Well, okay.' She frowned. 'But I'm applying some cushioning charms an expanding the room under your bed.' Hermione reasoned as she began searching her book bag for the required reading.

'Um, Miss Hermione?' Toby wondered nervously. 'Do you have something I could read? It's a long way to Hogwarts, isn't it?'

Hermione smiled lightly and nodded as she fished out her copy of The Tales of Beedle the Bard and handed it to Harry so that he could slip under the cloak for Toby to grasp.

'Thanks.' Toby added as he positioned the cloak so it wouldn't slide off him while he was reading and than turned to the first page with anticipation.

And so the train ride continued with one compartment so filled with secrecy and worry. They had no idea how to pull this off for an entire year and with everything they were concerned with now...the concept of their schoolwork, the upcoming Quidditch season and various other aspects of the school year were yet to be added into the mix.

It was risky and could end terribly bad. But if anything, Harry was determined not to give up. His friends could already tell how much this meant to Harry and his desperation to come up with a workable plan inspired them to stand by him and do the same.

It could all end up as a total disaster and yet they were each convinced that it would only turn out that badly if they gave up on finding a solution.

And so, this is where the story really begins.

'I don't have mine.' Toby thought of the black robes Harry had bought him; they were currently tucked away in the trunk that sat in the luggage compartment. He sighed and munched patiently on his cauldron cakes until the train began to slow as it emerged onto Hogsmeade Station.

'Come on!' Harry hissed to Toby. 'No matter what happens, promise you'll stay just behind me and don't make a sound?'

'I promise, Harry.' Toby nodded. He hurriedly pocketed the last of his sweets and re-adjusted the invisibility cloak that still concealed him from sight.

As the Gryffindor trio and Toby left the compartment, it became nearly impossible to move with the first years that rushed around and the seventh years that shoved aside anyone who got in their way.

'Go ahead, I'll catch up.' Harry urged his friends as they were becoming separated from each other anyway.

'Stay close.' He whispered, feeling relieved when Toby stood directly beside him and a little to the back. Even if the boy hadn't been wearing that magical cloak, Harry doubted that anyone would have noticed Toby's presence any more than then.

Once the train began to empty, Harry moved forward and stepped out onto the platform. He heard Toby jump down from the train, and quickly glanced backwards to make sure the boy was still hidden.

Turning back around, Harry was met with the cold gaze of Draco Malfoy.

'Lost something, Potter?' The Slytherin sneered. 'I must say, I'm surprised you've left your guards behind like this. It leaves you vulnerable to attack.'

Although Harry was sorely tempted to question Malfoy about the absence of Crabbe and Goyle, he instead forced himself to appear as bored as possible even though the blonde boy already irked him with his mere presence.

'Sod off, Malfoy.' Harry frowned and tried to move past him.

Draco stepped across his path and Harry tried desperately not to demonstrate any reaction to the fact that Toby had just bumped straight into him from behind; having had no warning of Draco's maneuver.

'I suppose it's for the best.' Draco continued. 'People keep dropping dead around you, don't they?'

Angered and yet fighting every urge to punch the Slytherin right in his sneering face, Harry shoved past Draco and purposefully bumped the other boy's shoulder with his own.

Toby hurried along after him and for once, Harry barely noticed the younger boy.

Harry was glad that Draco had simply let him leave without further intrusion (although it was rather odd), because Harry doubted that he could have restrained himself for a moment longer. Harry had Toby to consider now. What would happen if he fought with Draco? Toby might be scared by the exchanging of fists, but if magic was used? Harry couldn't risk a wayward spell hitting the little boy and therefore had to force himself away from the temptation of hexing the deserving, Slytherin bully.

A soft grunt of struggle brought Harry's mind back to the current situation. He paused as it was clear that Toby was having trouble keeping up with his anger-fueled strides.

'Sorry.' Harry felt bad for the boy who remained obediently quiet. He looked around at the blackened surroundings and thought upon the fact that they had to walk to the castle rather than taking a carriage. No one else appeared to be around, so Harry scooped Toby into his arms (once he had found the invisible boy, of course), to carry him the rest of the way.

Toby said nothing, although his relief was evident in the way his tired body relaxed in Harry's arms and his head rested against his chest.

'Hello, Harry.' A voice caused both boys to tense. 'Are you carrying someone?'

'Hi, Luna.' Harry glanced at the Ravenclaw girl. From the way his arms were positioned, there was no way in which he could deny that he was indeed holding an invisible child; instead of confessing this fact, however, Harry merely attempted to re-directed the conversation.

'Did you miss the carriage too?' He asked her.

'Yes.' Luna replied as they continued to walk along the lengthly path towards the main Hogwarts entrance.

'I saw you and Draco Malfoy talking so I thought that you might like some company. Almost like a friend.' Luna explained. 'But you already have company, don't you, Harry?' She glanced at his arms again.

Harry exhaled with dread as he knew it was particularly unavoidable not to tell her if he wanted to keep his and Toby's secret exactly that.

'Don't worry, I won't tell anyone about the mysterious child you're carrying in your arms all the way to Hogwarts.' Luna smiled. 'I found that I am rather good at keeping secrets.'

'Oh, thanks.' Harry nodded gratefully. Even so, he always found it weird how much Luna knew about some things others didn't even suspect; she certainly wasn't in Ravenclaw for nothing.

'Although, you might want to be a bit more careful.'Luna advised with not an ounce of concern in her light tone. 'Perhaps a hovering charm would be more secretive than carrying the child in your own arms?'

'Yeah, good idea' Harry agreed and made a mental note to ask Hermione for some suggestions later. He placed Toby onto the ground in standing position as they had finally reached the gates.

The small boy felt vulnerable as he was cold and the darkness around them scared him tremendously. Despite the sandwich and sweets he'd consumed that day, Toby was getting rather hungry as well.

The plan was to hide Toby in the “Room of Requirement”, until after the feast; the boy now regretted not asking for more details about that arrangement.

'It's locked!' Harry realized when made a move to push open the gates; as if the chains and padlock hadn't been enough of an indicator. He felt Toby inch closer to his side and the teenager desperately wondered what to do.

'Wotcher, Harry!' Tonks emerged from behind the small group with her wand already lit by the lumos charm. 'Dumbledore bewitched those himself.' She nodded towards the gates as though stating such a fact was beneficial to them in some way.

'One moment. Expecto Patronum!'' A large werewolf patronus burst from her wand and streaked through the gates and towards the castle.

Harry mentally slapped his forehead for not even thinking of using a patronus; not that it mattered much, though as he still wasn't sure how to sent a message with one.

'How is Remus Lupin? Luna wondered.

'Stubborn. But...dealing.' Tonks glanced at Harry, who knew right away that she was referring to the loss of Sirius.

Harry remembered Ron and Hermione telling him on the train about Bill and Fleur's engagement, as well as the fact that Remus and Tonks had just begun to see each other; this explained why her patronus had changed. Hermione of course, had explained the reasoning behind why a patronus may change and all of her words where backed up with lengthly details of her research. And yet Harry had no idea until it had been mentioned several hours ago that a patronus could change its form if there was such an emotionally-linked modification in the witch/wizard casting it.

--

After a seemingly long period of semi-awkward silence, it became apparent that Tonks' patronus had been answered; Severus Snape approached with a lit lantern hovering in the air beside him. His wand was already drawn and in the process of permitting the student's access through the gates.

Harry glared venomously at the man as Snape stepped aside to allow himself, Luna and - unknowingly - Toby to pass by him, before the gates were shut inches from Tonk's scowling face.

 Harry glanced over his shoulder to thank Tonks for helping them but hesitated when he noticed the strangeness in the fact that neither of the two adults had said a single word since the patronus had been cast. He would have to ask Ron and Hermione about it later to see if they had overheard anything during an Order meeting that would lead to the obvious loathing the pair expressed towards the other (although, surely his friends would have told him already). Or perhaps, like Harry, Tonks deemed Snape to be partially to blame for what had happened to Sirius?

And yet, the most amount of hatred that elevated around them seemed to originate from Snape.

'You cannot deny the evidence, Severus.' Tonks finally spoke once she lost the glaring match and lowered her gaze to her lit wand that was still clutched in her hands as though she was tempted to use it.

'I hardly refer to the final ramblings of a deranged Gryffindor mutt to be considered as “evidence”, Nymphadora.' Severus scowled at her. With a swish of his cloak, he turned to lead the way back to the castle. By the time he had barked at the two students to keep up; Tonks had already disappeared.

--

The walk was, if possible, one of the most nerving no-dramatic moments of Harry's life so far. He was feeling a mixture of emotions and his head thought upon too many things at once. Above all, Harry was terribly stressed because he feared the discovery of Toby.

Hoping to warn the boy of who they were with, Harry had to address Snape and that involved talking to the Slytherin. Speaking of the man while he was right there would not end peacefully and therefore no other option could be considered. But what could Harry say? He didn't even like Snape and could never forgive the horrible man for the things he had done, said, or caused. And yet, he had to say something or else risk losing Toby – the orphaned little boy who could be Snape's son.

How did Harry get himself into these situations?

'Professor Snape?' Harry sallowed and quickly searched his mind for something to say without a speck of niceness, nor in tone that expressed his fueled rage.

'Erm...never mind.' Harry sighed as no suitable question or commented seemed to be useful enough. He could feel Toby bump into him again as the boy hurried along to keep up with their pace. It was also because the boy was now extra-cautious of their adult company.

If Snape had even heard Harry, the man never showed nor acknowledged it.

'Fifty points from Gryffindor and Ravenclaw for lateness.'Snape finally spoke. And Harry had barely heard him as he was getting worried about Toby and prayed that they were almost at the castle.

'It is rather cold tonight.' Luna's airy tone reminded them that she was still there in a way that only she could. Harry wondered if her presence contributed to the lack of torments Snape surely wanted to fire his way. This more silent version of Snape was quite unsettling.

And as they continued to walk (even though it was much further from the station to the gates, this trek seemed to last forever), Toby continued to grip the cloak cautiously while he watched the back of the dark figure that was the “foul git”, Harry had briefly told him about.

This man was a wizard and an expert in Potions, something Toby admired about him and yet he could tell there was more to a person than just their skills.

Severus Snape looked angry all the time and had an intimidatingly low, displeased tone of voice. He had black hair, dark eyes and dressed entirely in black (with small bits of white at the sleeves and neck, but that didn't count), and yet Toby wondered if he too was hiding something better just like the way wizards hid a magical train in a station where muggles could not see it.

Regardless of what Harry had told him, Toby found this wizard to be very interesting (and scary!); he also didn't hate him. The little boy thought that Snape might have had lots of bad things happen to him to make him so sad and angry.

Toby would share those thoughts with Harry later as the steps to the castle finally came into view.

Harry knew from the moment he heard the sudden sound of a shoe stubbing against rock, that Toby had just stumbled.

He quickly stood Toby upright and than faked that he had been the one to trip. By the time Snape had glanced over his shoulder with unmistakable suspicion, Luna had already begun to describe some hard-to-pronounce invisible creature that had apparently tripped Harry.

Picking himself up, Harry walked at a slower pace in case Toby had injured his hands or knees (which was likely, given the volume of the boy's stumble). He didn't care what Snape said about his decreased speed and was thankful when Luna joined his side to support that notion.

And yet, the mysterious man did not comment.

--

Due to the level of noise in the Great Hall that was a result of constant chatter and the moment of cutlery, no one heard the awe-inspired gasp that Toby could not conceal the moment he caught his first sight of the magical floating candles and enchanted ceiling.

To the little boy, it felt like a wondrous dream in which he had just entered.

Toby lowered his gaze and glanced around at the hundreds of students that stared and whispered about Harry and Luna's late arrival.

Panicked, the small boy hurried to catch up with his guardian and tried to keep the cloak over himself without causing it to drag along the floor behind him.

With a gush of relief, Harry spotted his two best friends sitting at the Gryffindor table with Neville and Ginny. He quickly joined them. Ron caught Harry's serious expression and shifted over to make room for Toby once he felt the little boy grasping at his robes for support in his task of climbing onto the seat while not losing grip of the entire cloak.

Nervously seated between Ron and Harry, Toby ogled at the grand selection of desserts that were placed on the long table in front of him. He was forbidden to eat even a single spoon of custard or a tiny serving of ice cream. His stomach groaned with longing as the six-year-old demonstrated great endurance as he fought against the torturous temptation, even when it brought tears to his eyes.

It was much worst considering that never before in his young life had Toby ever had the chance to taste any of the items that were laid out before him.

Ron and Hermione weren't sure if they should say anything and that only further sparked the curiosity amongst the other Gryffindors as well as concern from the DA members nearby.

'Where've you been, Harry?' Dean wondered.

'Is everything okay?' Hermione became anxious when Harry didn't appear to have heard Dean.

'You alright, mate?' Ron repeated.

'Later.' Was the only replay Harry granted them as he served himself a helping of pudding. He reached for his spoon but paused when a wave of guilt washed over him; Toby was sitting right there and yet couldn't have any of these treats. Harry replaced his spoon with the determination that he would give up the luxury of dessert as well.

When Harry glanced around to see if anyone was still staring at him, he noticed a very odd expression in which Nearly Headless Nick had directed his way. For a heart clenching second, Harry felt certain that the ghost had been staring directly at Toby.

Than Nick floated away and Harry only felt worst. Ghosts could become invisible; did that give them some sort of ability to see other invisibilities? If Nick had seen Toby than it could all be over.

And all because Draco couldn't leave him alone.

Turning in his seat, Harry looked over at the Slytherin table and scowled at the impossible; Draco was sitting there between Blaise and Goyle as though he had been the first one on the carriages. And the blond had lingered on the platform after Harry had stormed away from him...did Draco know a shortcut, or something?

Either way, it only added to the blame Harry placed upon the Slytherin for his own lateness.

--

As Dumbledore stood to make his speech the moment the desserts had vanished; Harry wasn't even listening as he was distracted with his own thoughts and concerns. He was beginning to wonder if it was truly possible to hide Toby at Hogwarts for a while year.

Harry only looked up from his empty plate to pay attention when the headmaster announced that because Professor Snape was teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts, Professor Slughorn would be resuming his old post as Potions Master.

Many were shocked/outraged and muttering (other than the cheering Slytherins), and therefore no one apart from Toby noticed Harry's vague reaction. If anyone had the most motivation to protest against the new staff arrangements, it was Harry. And yet he sat in silence; what did it matter to him who taught what when he had Toby to worry about?

Not even the cautious warnings about Voldemort had quite captured Harry's full attention. By then his friends had noticed and began to worry.

The moment students scattered about to leave the Great Hall for their separate common rooms, Harry stood and nudged Toby.

Ensuring that the little boy kept up, Harry led Toby directly to the seventh floor. He hadn't said anything to his friends and failed to notice Hagrid waiting for them as he passed right by the half-giant.

'A room for a child.' He thought over and over until the Room of Requirement appeared to fulfill his request.

'Harry, wait!' Hermione turned a corner and called out to him as she and Ron rushed to catch up. They had followed Harry from the Great Hall and were lucky to at least have a brief idea as to where he was taking the boy, if not to the Gryffindor tower.

They had made it just in time.

'What's going on?' Ron asked as they followed Harry and Toby into the large baby-blue coloured room that was filled with children toys, furniture, and decorations. Including a hippogriff-shaped bed, a ceiling light that was actually candles inside a floating see-through sun, the floor was a coloured carpet that had moving silver stars, and bubbles kept sprouting from seemingly nowhere to float around the room.

'You can take the cloak off now.' Harry told Toby without answering his friends.

The boy exclaimed with relief and threw the magical cloak off himself. He watched it fall to the floor and felt oddly satisfied by the sight of its deflated form.

'What is this place?' Tony glanced around the unfamiliar room with interest.

'Toby, your knees are bleeding!' Hermione noticed the rips in the boy's pants that had been caused by the fall earlier. The scrapes that left his flesh raw and bleeding were clearly seen through the newly torn holes.

'Hands too.' Toby lifted his reddened palms to show her.

How a six-year-old had fallen and caused such an injury to himself while still remaining entirely invisible wasn't a complete mystery, considering the largeness of the cloak in comparison to his small size. And yet since Snape had been there when the incident had occurred, Harry regarded each of them to have been immensely lucky.

It could have been much worst.

'This room is made to be equipped with anything we need, right?' Harry sought a confirmation as he walked over to a small cabinet that was positioned on a far wall toward the left end of the room, opposite the bed. They hadn't noticed it before. As he expected though, it contained various medical supplies in which he may need such as bandages, healing balms, and even a few select potions.

'Harry?' Hermione pressed as she watched her best friend gather several items from the cabinet and place them onto a section of a large, wooden table. Harry lifted Toby onto the surface of the table and began to carefully fix the boy's injuries with obvious and experienced skill.

'You can't live here all year and neither can Toby.' She glanced around the room, thinking that was Harry's intention.

'I know.' Harry rolled his eyes. 'But we don't have a plan yet and I had to check that Toby was okay.'

'What happened, mate?' Ron once again took the chance to ask in hope of actually getting an answer.

'Malfoy.' Harry scowled. 'He delayed us to the carriages and than we were locked out of the gates. Luna was there too, and Tonks.' He explained briefly.

'Snape showed up and took fifty points from each of us. After that he didn't say a single word.'

'Nothing?' Ron gasped in disbelief. 'Not even a list of insults?'

'Nothing.' Harry confirmed and moved backwards to let Hermione take over the task of fixing Toby up (she knew a few spells that would help), so that he could talk to Ron.

'Owch.' Toby winced and crosses his arms to scowl at Hermione when she began to apply a healing balm to his still-tender knees.

'What's odd is how Snape and Tonks looked like they wanted to kill each other right there.' Harry remembered. 'Did anything happen at an Order meeting?'

'Not that we heard of.' Ron frowned as he thought about it.

'Actually, Ginny and I did overhear Remus saying that Snape was being unrealistic about something.' Hermione shared as she straightened. 'But we couldn't make out the rest.'

'Thanks.' Toby told her and hopped down from the chair. He noticed that the trio were talking about something he thought to be boring and confusing, so the little boy moved to wander around the room and look at anything that caught his attention.

'I think it was about...' Harry swallowed as he still couldn't say it yet; even so, his friends knew he was referring to Sirius. 'Tonks said Snape was denying proof of something and he didn't seem to think it was anything important.'

'Maybe it wasn't.' Hermione shrugged.

'You didn't see the looks they gave each other.' Harry shook his head. He turned to glance at Toby; the the little boy was busy flipping through a picture-book with little attention and failed to notice that he was being watched.

'I dunno, mate.' Ron said. 'But right now...how are we going to hide Toby for a year without anyone finding out?'

'Harry...it might not be possible.' Hermione added softly.

'Sleeping under your bed is one thing but he needs careful attention, a bathroom to use, food - which will probably have to be nicked from the table or kitchens – toys, clothes, and...education.' She crossed her arms sympathetically.

'It's a full-time job to become a parent. And to do it in secret while we have classes?' She was clearly very skeptical about their ability to do this.

'And Quidditch.' Ron added importantly. 'Even with our free periods...Hermione's got a point, mate.'

'I can't stay?' Toby's voice was soft and rejected as he slowly approached the three teenagers. 'I could live in here!'

'It's too risky and others can use this room.' Harry muttered. He knew Hermione was right but he stubbornly refused to give up until they'd explored every single possible option.

'We'll sleep on it tonight.' Harry decided. 'If we have free time tomorrow than we'll go to the library for ideas.'

His words had an opposite impact on his friends; while Hermione looked pleased with the suggestion as she was likely to end up there anyway, Ron seemed to think of it as the last thing he wanted to do with his spare time.

Either way, both of Harry's friends agreed to his terms; each knew it was getting late and they had to leave.

'Before I forget.' Hermione paused as they approached the door and reached into the pockets of her robes. She held out two meat and salad filled rolls to each Harry and Toby.

'I noticed that neither of you had much to eat before.' She explained with a light shrug of her shoulders.

'Thanks, Hermione.' Harry accepted his roll and acted like he had every intention to eat it later.

'Thank-you, Miss Hermione.' Toby grinned and hungrily ate his own roll without a moments consideration.

Feeling content, the boy replaced the cloak over himself and followed along beside Harry as they headed for their sleeping quarters.

The door to the Room of Requirement began to fade away until it was just a regular wall once again.

--

Harry wished he'd had his Marauder's Map with him as the trio (and a cloak-concealed Toby), cautiously ventured along corridors and down staircases to reach the entrance to the Gryffindor common room. Luckily, Hermione knew the password and within moments they had stepped into the 6th year boys dormitory (Harry and Ron's other roommates were catching up with friends in the common room at that moment).

After a long and tiring day, Toby was settled under Harry's bed as he readied himself for sleep. Hermione had been granted enough time to create a makeshift bed on the floor and magically expand that space in effort to avoid the occurrence of Toby ever hitting his head against the underside of the bed if he were to sit upright. She even placed a well-cast notice-me-not charm on the general area as an extra precaution. Figuring that she had done all she could for the time being, Hermione also demonstrated a fondness for the little boy as she left Toby her copy of The Tales of Beedle the Bard for him to enjoy.

Once she was satisfied with her efforts, Hermione bid the boys goodnight and turned to leave their dormitory for her own.

'How old are you?' Ron asked Toby as they all got ready for bed.

'Six years and two months.' Toby recited sleepily.

'Six?' Ron repeated. 'And you can already read?' He couldn't believe his ears; he had seen the boy expertly flip through at least three books now and the child clearly knew what was written upon the pages.

'I've read lots of books.' Toby told Ron; hiding the fact that previously it had been all he was really allowed to do.

'Your birthday isn't far from mine.' Harry realized as he had been thinking about it.

'I was told my birthday is on the second day of July.' Toby said. 'When is yours, Harry?'

'The last day of July.' Harry quickly answered. The dormitory filled with momentary silence as Neville entered the room and headed for a shower. Dean and Seamus were in fits of laughter when they burst into the room a mere second later as though it was empty and the noise they made wasn't bothering anyone.

Harry drew the curtains around his bed and feigned sleep as he didn't feel like talking to anyone at that moment. Instead, he stressed about the facts involving how many times in a single day that he and Toby had almost been caught. In addition to that, three people already knew about it and the worst possible person was already suspicious...Severus Snape

Thinking back to the letter he was yet to reply to, Harry wondered if he and his friends could really pull of the impossible and truly formulate a plan so good that it would fool even Snape?

No, probably not.

Yet even without any strategy on their side, Harry and his friends were certainly going to try!

'Which idiotic password has the old fool established this time?' Severus muttered under his breath. He had not been listening the previous night when Dumbledore informed the rest of the staff of his newest password and therefore Severus had no choice other than to attempt a guess.

'Acid pops?' Severus tried the first option that came to mind and was impressed when the gargoyle moved to allow access.

'Good morning, Severus.' Dumbledore was sitting behind his desk when he glanced over to casually greet his visitor.

'I was under the impression that you wished to see me, headmaster?' Severus stepped further into the room as he spoke. His appearances were as deceiving as always and gave away little indication towards the fact that he knew exactly what the forced discussion was to be about; Severus had been expecting it for a little over a week now.

'Please have seat, Severus.' Dumbledore sighed.

'I would rather stand.' Severus replied and crossed his arms over his chest defensively.

'Very well.' Dumbledore rose and stared at Severus for a long moment. When he spoke, his tone was even and light, yet Severus easily noticed the underlining hint of seriousness in the older man's eyes.

'I was recently visited by a rather disgruntled former-Hufflepuff yesterday evening,' Dumbledore exhaled.

'Miss Tonks believed you to be, I quote: “a sour, uncompromising dungeon snake that can't see nor reason with anything right in front of him unless it dresses up like a cauldron of spit”, quite a unique description, if I might add.' Dumbledore chuckled momentarily while Severus clenched his fists and scowled.

'Get to the point, old man!' Severus growled and regretted not deducting more house points from Tonks when he'd had the chance. Given her record for creative trouble, even he believed that Lupin was a perfect match for her. Damn those shape-changing troublemakers that made his life even less tolerable!

'In addition to ranting several more names than I could ever recall being used in a single sentence – I believe she even made up a few – Miss Tonks referred to a rather, shall we say “dramatic”, quarrel between yourself and Remus prior to an Order meeting a week ago?'

Severus also considered Marauders to be hypocrites at times; with all the trouble they caused, they were pretty quick to squeal on others. Didn't want to lose their top title, no doubt.

'Severus?' Dumbledore frowned when the Slytherin didn't offer any response. 'Do you intend to shed light on the situation?'

'As Miss Tonks has so rudely informed you of, headmaster, I am but a dungeon snake and therefore I insist against the usage of light in any form.' Severus cared nothing for how childish he sounded; anything to avoid the real discussion was fine with him.

'Your sense of humor shows up at the most unexpected and inconvenient of times.' Dumbledore sighed.

'I'm not laughing.' Severus huffed.

'No, that would truly be a miracle to behold.' Dumbledore commented.

'However, this issue must be addressed immediately, Severus. There are far more serious concerns for yourself, Miss Tonks and Mr Lupin to be discussing – Voldemort is gaining more followers and power by the day.'

'Are you so foolish to imply that I am unaware of this?' Severus snarled. 'I do not see Lupin being constantly cursed inside the Dark Lord's inner circle, nor could Tonks possibly be able to comprehend the magnitude of the First Wizarding War!'

'And yet it is you who refuses to speak of the matter in which occurred only a week ago.' Dumbledore said quietly.

The headmaster waited for Severus to calm himself before he continued; Dumbledore considered this to be a wise move, if the look on the other man's face was anything to go by.

'And quite remarkably – given their frustrations in the matter – neither Remus nor Tonks provided any proper detail towards the actual concern or occurrence in which had elevated into that duel.'

Severus was no fool. He knew that statements of truth such as “it's a private matter”, and “none of anyone's business”, would be a waste of breath; Dumbledore had likely already prepared a reasonable list of responses to each.

'I made a comment towards Black's unreliability in which several reacted unfavorably towards.' Severus answered.

'If that were the case than you would not be demonstrating such avoidance upon discussing the matter,' Dumbledore nodded wisely. 'Severus?'

There had been many times in Severus' life (such as this moment), in which he truly wished to either silence the old man or else obliviate him. In any other situation with any other person, threats, blackmail, shouting, a few particular spells, and scowls were all he would need to convince them to either leave him alone or let him stalk right out of the space in which contained their presence.

None of these were effective against Dumbledore; it was a tested and proven fact in which Severus strongly despised.

He wished for nothing more than another member of the staff to enter the room and demand Dumbledore's presence. Even an incident involving Gryffindors once again causing trouble would please him immensely.

No such rescue came and therefore Severus slowly and reluctantly began to accept the fact that there would be no escape. Further irritated by this and yet still unwilling to speak of the events that had brought them to this point of discussion, Severus raised his wand to his left temple where he extracted a strand of memory.

Dumbledore, having noticed what the other man was doing, summoned a pensieve for Severus to dispose of his recollection. In doing so, he ignored the utter loathing and pure dread that formed Severus' scowl.

Severus stepped back and watched the liquid of the stone bowl for a seemingly long moment before he replaced his wand and crossed his arms over his chest once again. He had zero intention of entering the memory as he had no desire whatsoever to re-live it.

Severus etched further away as the the mere sight of the pensieve caused him obvious pain when, with one final glance in his direction, Dumbledore leaned forward to view the memory of that mentioned night.

Even as Harry slowly opened his eyes to stare upwards at the canopy of his bed, the images of the nightmare that had just woken him, lingered in his mind. He saw the flash of green and than Sirius falling away from him, slipping and fading...over, and over again.

A burning pain formed inside him and in accordance to his recently conditioned habits, Harry instantly searched for a distraction.

Once his glasses had been placed over his eyes and the blankets were kicked aside, Harry pulled open his curtains with more force than necessary. He was relieved to notice that he and a snoring Ron were the only ones left in the dormitory.

Crouching on the smooth floor of the room, Harry smiled at the sight of Toby. The small boy was curled on his side under a thin layer of red and blue blankets; he faced Harry as he contentedly slumbered in complete unawareness.

'Toby?' Harry nudged the boy awake.

'What?' Toby sleepily sat upright and rubbed his eyes. He clothes were ruffled and his hair a mess, but it was the unmistakable sound of footsteps by the open doorway in which caused Harry to pause.

Carefully peering over the side of his mattress, Harry exhaled with relief when he saw Hermione standing there with her hands on her hips as she stared at the snoring Ron Weasley.

While she moved to wake Ron and reminded them of how important their day was, Harry made sure Toby had showered and than dressed in his new clothes; a red t-shirt, dark brown pants, and his personally-selected black Hogwarts-like robes. He and Toby also took turns at trying to comb the younger boy's hair but, like Harry's, it only obeyed one particular style.

Once Hermione had left (she'd given Toby some food in which she had taken from the Great Hall – this was the real reason for her unannounced entrance earlier), Ron and Harry got changed into their Gryffindor uniforms and prepared themselves for their first official day as sixth year students.

'Just stay hidden and I'll be back as soon as I can, okay?' Harry reassured Toby.

'Okay.' Toby nodded nervously. He quickly embraced Harry around the teenager's middle before the small boy crawled back under his bed to eat his food and read his book.

'You sure he'll be okay?' Ron wondered as they turned to leave the dormitory and head downstairs for breakfast.

'I hope so.' Harry worried.

'Maybe Hermione can find a really good invisibility spell and the kid can stay with us?'Ron mused in effort to boost his friend's mood, even a little.

'It's a bit risky.' Harry answered as he glanced sideways at his trying-to-be-helpful best friend. 'Maybe.'

Although the idea did have appeal because with a spell (as opposed to the cloak), Toby wouldn't be restricted to just one small section underneath Harry's bed. Instead the boy could have the entire dormitory to himself while the others were away at meals and classes.

It was certainly worth looking into because Harry knew how unfair and miserable it could be to be limited to a small area of space for a great length of time. In addition to that he also knew how unhappy he'd been to rely on stealth and luck to get even small amounts of food and how using the bathroom had to be on a sort of schedule, not when he needed to use it. Harry hadn't been able to just go outside and play like most children his age had...it wasn't the best way to grow up, he was sure.

Even so, knowing what that was like gave him a stronger motivation to make sure Toby never experienced it. He knew exactly what those things were like and over the years he'd come to realize how unfair they had been; thanks to the Dursleys and the cupboard under the stairs, who had turned an otherwise potentially content situation into a ruined childhood.

Harry refused to take Toby's freedom away like that.

--

After eating, the Gryffindors remained in their seats as McGonagall checked who was cleared to take the classes they had wanted before she was able to hand out their timetables. Harry and Ron's “Exceeds Expectations” grades were good enough for Professor Slughorn's Potions class; under that consideration, everything worked out quite well for them.

Hermione had already left for Ancient Runes and since the boys did not want to begin their research task without her assistance, they decided to head back to the Gryffindor tower. They were delayed to the dormitory by several Quidditch hopefuls and a group of giggling girls; it took Harry and Ron at least ten minutes to get around them all without being demonstratively rude.

As they ascended the stairs and turned to enter their still-vacant dormitory, there was utter stillness and complete silence.

'Toby?' Harry's chest tightened with worry that was only resolved by the appearance of the boy.

'I wasn't sure if was you.' Toby shrugged. Even so, he was certainly happy to see them and instantly approached the pair with a delighted smile on his face.

'Good thinking.' Harry nodded. It had just occurred to him that, naturally, the boy would only be able to see a persons shoes from his position underneath the bed. 'And we have a bit of free time.' He added.

'We have free period after break and lunch too!' Ron reminded Harry with a grin.

'Yeah, um...Ron?' Harry fished some writing equipment from his trunk as he spoke. 'Could you stay here with Toby for a while? There's something I have to do and I don't know how long it'll take,' He said seriously. 'It's important and I need complete silence. I wouldn't ask you otherwise.'

'What is it?' Ron wondered. 'But sure, mate.'

'I'll explain later!' Harry called over his shoulder as he dashed from the room without a glance back. He hoped he could keep that promise to Ron , but Harry really wasn't ready to share the Snape-based side of his plans with either of his best friends yet. Such as the letters he was exchanging with their professor and the fact that Toby may be the man's son.

Reaching the Room of Requirement, he thought on a place to focus and write, which resulted in an office-like room with a warm fireplace, several rows of bookshelves and a large, fully-equipped writing desk.

Sitting in the comfortably wooden chair, Harry slowly began to compose a reply to Snape's letter.

Harry hated how it seemed as though he was complimenting the spiteful man, but the comments about Snape's skill was no lie. A lie was what Harry had told by mentioning how he planned to use all of his free time that year. He couldn't tell Snape how he had to care for Toby during that time as it would render his entire mission useless. Besides, a “studious nature”, was sure to earn him some respectable points with Snape, right?

Ignoring the comments/insults of the next section of Snape's letter in which was propped up against a textbook beside him (he was using it to plan his reply), Harry continued onwards to address the last bit worth answering.

I have deliberately ensured that my identity isn't clear to you because I believe it's the best thing to do in this sort of situation. This way I cannot be judged by what you may know about me (my house, family bloodline, or school reputation), and therefore you can remain unbiased with fair expectations involving our communicational exchanges.

Harry read that paragraph repetitively as he had to make sure it sounded like a justifiable enough reason not to reveal who he was. What would Snape think if he knew it was Harry Potter to whom he was writing to? It would also raise those awful questions such as, “what little brother?”, or “is a six-year-old how you consider yourself to excuse your poor lack of skill?”.

Harry shuddered at the thought.

He was about to sign his response letter and apply the handwriting spell, when he suddenly felt that the letter was incomplete and yet he had said everything he felt compelled to.

With a sigh, Harry lifted his black-inked quill once again and pondered on what to add to the end of his letter.

With a heavy sigh, Harry leaned back in his chair and hated the unwelcome sense of betrayal towards Sirius that he felt whenever he sickeningly sounded respectable or appreciative of the foul git, Snape.

He loathed the dungeon bat and yet his writing failed to reflect it.

As Harry finalized the letter and folded it twice, he pondered on the secret identity he had chosen for himself. There were a lot of people in his life that he cared about, but it was only the three that were no longer there in which he loved the most. He had many friends but those three were his real family; his parents and godfather. Because of that his “new name”, had to relate to each of them.

Anything ending in “P” was far too obvious and therefore a brilliant idea had come to mind; Evans had been his mother's surname before she'd married James Potter.

And so he became Sirius James Evans; S.J.E.

With a surge of accomplishment, Harry was certain that Snape was yet to figure it out and that only solidified how the invention of his disguised name was a perfect choice.

Harry glanced at the clock on a nearby wall and saw that he still had some time before his next lesson in which would, ironically, be Defense Against the Dark Arts...with Snape. He may have dropped Divination but it didn't take a seer to know that something was going to happen; trouble always arose when he and Snape were involved.

For the sake of the civilized letters and Toby's education as well as safety, Harry knew he could not let his anger get a hold of him as it usually did around certain Slytherins. And that meant he had to find a way to deal with Snape.

Turning to look at the bookshelves in the room around him, Harry examined the titles of the ancient leather-bound books; although he hardly considered to find “A Gryffindor's Guide to Dealing with Slytherin Gits”, to be amongst his choices.

His fingertips brushed over each leather spine until they paused on a very particular book. A shiver coursed through Harry as he was certain that the dust-covered book was likely to belong in the restricted section of the library. Even so, from what he could read of its description on the back...it might be exactly what Harry needed.

With that small sense of anticipation, “A Wizard's Guide to His Own Mind and How to Empower it', came down from the shelf. Harry intended to begin reading it immediately.

--

When Harry finally left the Room of Requirement with the book safely tucked away in his bag, he already had an understanding of the first three chapters. It would enable him to mentally focus and therefore heighten his control over his own reactions that strayed from any task at hand.

Harry only hoped it would work whenever he had to deal with Snape or even Malfoy, because if it didn't...he doubted anything else would.

After a quick trip to the owlery, Harry hurried along the corridors of the castle and climbed the stairs, on his way to the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom. He found Ron and Hermione waiting for him amongst the queue outside the room.

'Made it!' Harry gasped with intense relief. And not a second too late as the door opened to reveal Snape's angered form. His eyes trailed over the heads of the sixth-year students that had made it into his NEWT class, before he stepped out of the doorway and addressed them with a stern tone.

'Inside.' He told them and only a few hesitated to do so.

As everyone took their seats, Severus moved to stand behind his desk to face each of them. His gaze lingered on Harry for a mere fraction of a second longer than the rest.

When Snape spoke again, Harry lifted his gaze to pay close attention to what the man was saying as the teenager patiently waited to strike. Harry had thought of trying something to test what he had read in that useful book, and the best way to do that was not to avoid Snape but rather to not dread facing him. “Speak to Snape only when questioned or insulted”, was not going to teach Harry much control nor would it give him a chance to analyze exactly how much work he had to do.

It was time to take perhaps the greatest risk of all.

'...you are, I believe, complete novices in the use of non-verbal spells.' Severus said. 'What is the advantage of a non-verbal spell?'

As everyone had expected, Hermione's hand shot into the air as though she would gain extra points for her speed. And upon consideration of the question asked, Harry slowly raised his hand as well; the stunned expressions on his classmates faces (as well as Ron and Hermione's), were nowhere near as comical as the momentary one on Snape's.

'Mr Potter?' Severus slowly permitted the boy the chance to provide an attempted answer.

Harry lowered his hand and exhaled to calm his nerves. He thought about the term “non-verbal”, and considered it to be rather self-explanatory. Even so, he'd never really thought that those types of spells were very possible to achieve.

'Um, well...' Harry forced himself to face Snape's narrowed gaze. 'Since you don't say the incantation than your opponent won't know which spell is being used, right?' He answered.

Harry thought about some of his own experiences as he spoke and even forgot whose question he was actually answering, even as his determined emerald eyes stared back at Snape's curious obsidian ones.

'In a duel, you would want to know what spells you're being attacked with because not all spells can be blocked.' Harry swallowed as he thought of the killing curse in which had taken his parents and godfather from him.

'But if your opponent doesn't know what spell you use than it gives you the chance to catch them unprepared and therefore, you'd have the advantage.' Harry concluded and felt very proud of himself.

'Although, if both know how to cast spells without saying the incantations than you've got to rely on body language...in which case you're probably doomed.' Harry added with a sigh; a few of his classmates (even an occasional Slytherin), chuckled at that.

'As astonishing as it may be, Mr Potter is correct.' It seemed to cause Snape great pain to say those words. He frowned further and even as he proceeded with the lesson, Harry could still identify the surprised and almost pleased expression in the usually scowling man's eyes.

'Non-verbal incantations enables a caster to gain the element of surprise in their spell-casting.' Severus continued. 'Not all wizards can do this, of course; it is a question of concentration and mind power in which some,' He stared at Harry again, 'Lack.'

And yet as he gave the students their instructions to split into pairs and attempt to jinx/repel, Severus had no way of knowing that this is exactly what Harry had hoped for.

It was the perfect chance to try his new focusing tips and with the lingering pressure of Snape, it could not be a better setting.

Harry raised his wand and watched Ron carefully although he could tell that, like many of their classmates, Ron was going to try and cheat by whispering the incantations instead.

“The only useful mind is one clean of distractions. Anger is a fire that smokes out rational thought. Hesitation is a second wasted and a chance not taken. Doubt is as much your enemy as over-confidence.

Do not cease your thoughts, merely focus them upon a single goal: to succeed.”

Harry recalled that section of his book in which had solidified his faith in the reading material, and had already begun to try it. He stared hard at Ron's wand and ignored the angering presence of a sneering Snape, the hesitation about dueling his friend, and the doubt in his own ability.

And therefore, the moment Ron's wand moved even the slightest, Harry was ready.

“Expelliarmus!” Harry thought in his mind with everything he had. His eyes widened with surprise as Ron's wand flew out of his hand and Harry was able to snatch it from where it had landed at his feet.

'Pathetic, Weasley.' Naturally, instead of complimenting Harry, Snape had insulted Ron. The man stepped in front of Harry with the obvious intention of being his next opponent.

Before Harry could prepare himself or think of a spell, Snape's wand had moved quicker than a snitch. In the time space of mere seconds, the bespectacled “chosen one”, found himself lying flat on his back in an undignified manner.

Harry didn't know what spell Snape had used but it was obvious he had lost against it.

Returning to his feet, Harry fought to ignore the Slytherins laughter as the anger he was trying to overcome began to bubble inside him. He clenched his wand and glared at his smug professor, yet not a word passed Harry's lips.

'How'd you do it, Harry?' Ron demanded to know as they headed to their break a short time later.

'Hermione did it too.' Harry shrugged. 'And so what? Bloody Snape tried to jinx me and I did nothing!' Now free from the classroom and the foul man that taught inside it, Harry let his annoyances loose.

'I had enough of that during those Occlumency lessons! I couldn't stop that either.'

'You answered that question too.' Ron added while Hermione “hmphed”, beside them.

'So what?' Harry dismissed the praise from his redheaded friend. 'What's Dumbledore playing at, anyway, letting that git teach Defense? Did you hear him talk about the Dark Arts? He-'

'Harry,' Hermione interrupted him. 'To be honest, he sounded a lot like you.'

'Whatever, I'm going to check on Toby.' Harry refused to hear why Hermione thought he and Snape sounded anything alike regarding any matter at all; he was just too furious to argue right now.

Harry strode into the dormitory located in the Gryffindor tower and checked that it was vacant before he called the little boy he had already become accustomed to having around whenever he was given the chance.

'You're back!' An evidentially bored Toby emerged from under the bed and dusted off his robes, despite the obvious cleanness of its appearance.

'Put the cloak on.' Harry told him. 'You can come to the library with us if you promise to be careful.'

'Oh, boy!' Toby's eyes lit up with excitement as he snatched the cloak from under his pillow and pulled it on.

'I promise, Harry!'

'What's going on?' Ron asked as he and Hermione had just stepped into the common room when Harry strode forward in his intention to leave it.

'We're going to the library as we agreed, to find a way to make this work.' Harry gestured to the space where Toby was.

His friends nodded and followed after Harry as he was a Gryffindor on a mission. Snape could insult him, jinx him, give him detentions, and take points...but under no circumstance was Harry going to let him snatch Toby away.

That was one battle Harry refused to lose.

Toby hurried along the corridor to keep up with the Gryffindor trio as they each headed towards the Hogwarts library. No matter how useful it may be, the invisibility cloak was really starting to annoy the little boy as it was far too long and became quite a hassle to use.

Yet Toby almost dropped the entire cloak onto the floor from the moment he caught sight of the library. The majestic room was filled with more books than he'd known existed; the boy was in complete awe of it all.

As the young boy's grin faded, panic began to settle in when Toby looked around in every direction and yet did not recognize a single student that surrounded him. Turning on the spot, he searched relentlessly for Hermione's bushy hair or Ron's redheadedness and found neither. He had lost Harry.

Toby stepped backwards and was terrified. The grand room was far too big and he could not be seen nor heard. To the boy, the rows upon rows of bookshelves became maze walls, the tables were slumbering beasts, and the students had darkened as they grew an extra five feet in height. As small and vulnerable as Toby felt, he was still able to contain his gasp when a shadow loomed over him, further freezing him to the spot.

All he could do was stare wide-eyed upwards at the approaching figure.

--

'Harry, what's wrong?' Hermione asked as she lifted a thick book from the shelf and noticed that her friend appeared to be quite anxious.

'He's gone.' Harry swallowed.

'Who?'

'Toby.' Ron answered as Harry dashed off to locate the child. 'Stay here in case he shows up.' He added to her as he decided to help Harry.

'Any luck, mate?'

'Nothing.' Harry frowned. 'You go that way and I'll look over here.' He pointed in the direction they'd arrived from.

His gaze trailed over every possible space in which could hide a child. But with the cloak of invisibility over the boy, how was Harry actually supposed to find Toby?

'Hi, Harry.' Someone spoke to him and he quickly turned to see both Ginny and Luna greeting him. Not wanting to raise suspicion, he turned towards them and tried his best to look friendly.

'How did you survive your OWLs?' Ginny huffed as she held a pile of books in her arms.

'The same as always,' Harry replied. 'Luck.'

'Hello, Harry.' Luna stepped forward and held out her spectrospecs. 'You should try these; they're very good for finding invisible creatures.' She smiled airily at him.

Harry lowered his gaze to the glasses and wondered if Luna could read minds. Maybe she had picked up on his frantic heartbeat...or perhaps it was mere co-incidence and Luna was just being Luna? Unlikely, considering that she knew about Toby.

'Sure, thanks.' Harry took them from her and placed them over his own glasses as he began to scan the room with a new perspective.

He would never doubt the Quibbler again because, miraculously, it worked; there was one section in which was obviously different and more magical than the rest. And it was at the right height for Toby. The trouble was that the boy was standing motionless on the spot directly behind Madam Pince, who was sorting through several books in mid-air with her wand.

'Thanks again, Luna.' Harry tossed the glasses back to her.

'That's quite alright.' She smiled. 'Did you find what you were looking for?'

'Er, yes.' He nodded. 'Oh and I never got to apologize for the points Snape took from you as well; it was my fault you stayed behind to walk with me.' He had felt a bit guilty about that even if it had been out of his control.

'Don't worry, Harry.' Luna replied. 'We Ravenclaws are rather smart, you know. We can earn those points back.'

'Right, well...um, Ron and Hermione are waiting for me so I'd better go.' He nodded and hurried towards where he knew Toby was.

The sound of Ginny saying, “Harry, wait! ”, caught the attention of the librarian. She turned to stare at the two teenagers not with an expression of irritation, but one of shock. Of course, she knew who they were (especially considering that they were OWL and NEWT students), and yet it was as though she was seeing each of them for the first time.

How had she not noticed it before?

Irma Pince, as she now called herself, stared at the conversing teenagers and yet she did not see Harry and Ginny...she saw Severus and Lily.

'Oof!' Harry winced when he felt Toby collide against him.

'Are you okay?' Ginny looked at him oddly.

'Yeah, I'm fine.' Harry nodded as he did feel considerably calmer now that Toby was once again within his protective reach. The small boy had latched himself onto Harry for a moment and than moved to stand beside him as he stared at Ginny nervously; the boy didn't know who she was, or if Harry was going to be angry at him for getting lost.

'I'm just not sure about the DA yet so I'll have to get back to you on that.' Harry turned the moment he had finished speaking and quickly sought out his friends to let them know he had found Toby.

Ginny watched after him and shook her head with an inaudible sigh; the trio had certainly been acting rather weird since they got back to Hogwarts.

--

After quite a stressful delay, the three Gryffindor friends were able to properly research how to achieve their seemingly impossible situation with Toby. However, when Hermione had to leave the boys when their break had ended (she had to get to her Arithmancy class), they still hadn't made any actual progress.

'This is hopeless!' Ron complained in a tone not quite loud enough to capture the attention of the librarian, who had been lingering nearby for a reason unknown to the boys; it didn't help them either as her constant presence only made them further anxious.

So far all they had was a few books on concealment charms and the laws of magical custody.

'If only I was seventeen.' Harry grumbled as he eyed the law books with resentfulness.

'Or had a ton of money.' Ron muttered under his breath.

Before Harry had the chance to question how money could help him, there was a pop and he was suddenly staring at a pair of large eyes.

'Hello, Harry Potter.' Dobby smiled at him. 'Dobby is most pleased to see you, sir. Dobby is finding Harry Potter to deliver him a message from Albus Dumbledore.' The house-elf proudly announced.

'Oh, er...what's the message?' Harry swallowed as he was still recovering from the abrupt appearance of the elf.

'I thought you didn't have a master?' Ron watched the creature. Dobby seemed to be following orders as though he did, in fact, have a master telling him to do so.

'Dobby is a free elf but Dobby is also being paid, sir, to help Albus Dumbledore when he needs it.' The elf answered Ron before he turned back to Harry with his usual idolizing gaze.

'Dobby is to be telling Harry Potter that Albus Dumbledore wants to see Harry Potter in his office. Dobby is to be taking Harry Potter there now, sir.'

'Right.' Harry glanced apologetically at Ron who would be left with the researching task on his own. He made a move to leave put paused when he noticed the oddly-formed expression of achievement on his friend's face.

'Harry, that's it!' Ron exclaimed quickly and shoved the book he had been reading over to Harry.

After peeking a glance at the title (The Art of Childminding in the Magical Community), Harry began to read the short passage in which Ron had eagerly pointed out to him:

Harry stopped reading and turned to stare at Dobby, who had been glancing over his shoulder with curiosity.

'Is this true, Dobby?' Harry longed for a confirmation.

'Dobby is most agreed, sir.' The elf nodded, his bat-like ears flapping as he did so.

'I don't suppose Kreacher would be a reliable choice.' Harry sighed. 'I don't think I should use all of my gold on this either, though.' He glanced at the crestfallen Ron. 'It was a great plan...it's just not going to work for me.'

'Dobby could do it, sir.' The house-elf smiled as he looked directly at Toby as though the child wasn't even wearing the cloak of invisibility. He wasn't even bothered by the warily distrustful yet interested stare the boy cast back in return.

'But you work for Dumbledore.' Harry said. 'And I'm not your master, although I would still pay you for it if I was.'

'Than Dobby could have Harry Potter as his new master.' The elf's eyes brimmed with hopeful tears.

'You'd still be free in a way, but I suppose it's possible.' Harry shrugged as he was desperate to figure out a solid plan for Toby. This was too perfect of an option to pass up.

'Dobby agrees, sir. But Dobby will have to bond with Harry Potter later as you is to see Albus Dumbledore now.'

'Right, come on.' Harry nudged Toby.

They followed Dobby out of the library and towards the stone gargoyle that guarded the entrance to the headmaster's office. They'd left Ron behind to put the books away but the redhead didn't mind as he had to get a start on Snape's seemingly unachievable homework, anyhow.

'Acid pops.' Dobby said he password and watched as Harry helped the invisible Toby onto spiraling stairs before the elf was able to pop away.

As the two boys stepped into the office, Harry instantly regretted not asking Dobby or Ron to take Toby back to the Gryffindor dormitory first; especially since Harry was still in a mildly unforgiving mood with the headmaster and didn't want Toby around it things took a less-than-friendly turn.

'Good afternoon, Harry.' Dumbledore smiled at him as he descended the stairs beside his desk

'Dobby said you wanted to see me, sir?' Harry asked and suddenly felt nervous about the situation he had brought Toby and himself into.

'Yes, please have a seat.' Dumbledore gestured to the chair across from him.

'I would rather stand.' Harry answered as he shoved his hands into the pockets of his robes in a defensive manner. He glanced at the floor for a moment and shuffled his feet as he worried about what this meeting would entail.

'Very well.' Dumbledore watched him with an amused smile before he opened his mouth to speak. No words were heard however, as Nearly Headless Nick floated into the office to deliver a secretive but urgent message to the headmaster.

'I am terribly sorry, Harry, but it seems that our little chat will have to wait.' Dumbledore sighed. 'You have a class in twenty minutes and I fear that I won't be back by then. Please have a lemon drop before you leave.' He added hastily as he extracted his wand from his sleeve and departed the office after the Gryffindor ghost.

Harry glanced at the portraits and noticed that each of them were either empty or the occupant was sound asleep.

'Go on, I know you want to.' Harry gave Toby a light push towards the desk where the bowl of lemon drop candy sat atop it, surrounded by piles of parchment.

Thinking only of the treat he wanted, Toby threw off the cloak and rushed forward to grab the biggest piece of candy he could find.

A cough-like sound caught their attention and both boys turned to see that the sorting hat was siting on a stool nearby. Harry found this odd as the magical object was usually stored on a high shelf when it wasn't being used during the start-of-year feast.

'What's that old hat for?' Toby wondered as he popped the candy into his mouth with a content smile, relishing the taste of the simple lemony sugar.

'It sorts people into their houses when they wear it.' Harry answered and decided that it was time to leave.

'Toby, no!' He hissed a little too quietly as the boy ran forward and lifted the hat onto (or rather, over – given his small size), his head.

'What house am I in?' Toby whispered nervously.

'I see your cunning, child.' The hat said. 'And a thirst for knowledge in which to meet your ends.'

'Toby.' Harry insisted and yet could not bring himself to deny the boy his moment with the hat. He pocketed his hands again and fidgeted nervously as his mind swam with fears of Dumbledore returning, or some other incident in which was only likely to end terribly for them both.

'I see a desire for something you do not have.' The hat continued. 'You are no pupil here. I cannot sort you ahead of its time, child...it is too soon to declare where you truly ought to belong within these walls.'

'But pretend I was.' Toby pleaded. 'Which house would it be in?'

'You would do well in Slytherin.'

Toby had been hoping to get Gryffindor because that's where Harry was. Even so, he accepted the answer the hat had given him and returned the magical object to its stool.

Wasting no further time, Harry tossed the cloak over Toby and led the boy back to the Gryffindor tower so that he could prepare for his double Potions lesson with Slughorn.

He didn't ask Toby what the hat had said as the boy's face revealed enough of that answer; it hadn't been Gryffindor.

While Harry discovered the Half-Blood Prince's book in the Potions classroom, and Toby was resting under the bed in their dormitory, Dumbledore returned to his office with a confident smile and an extra twinkle in his eyes.

'Well?' The headmaster glanced up at the portrait of Phineas Nigellus Black.

'That boy has obviously never seen a painting fake sleep before.' He replied. 'But I saw the little one Nick told you about. Small kid, looks like a miniature Snape, if you ask me.'

'How did Harry treat the boy?' Dumbledore wondered intently. 'Did you hear a name for the child?'

'Toby.' Phineas sighed. 'He was hidden under that cloak and than tried on the hat. Potter was very protective of him and the boy appeared to be used to following after him.'

'Thank you.' Dumbledore nodded.

'So it's true.' The headmaster mused to himself and had every appearance of someone who already knew the bare basics what was going on. With a smile on his face and a mischievous sparkle in his eye, Dumbledore decided to let the little arrangement continue, at least until he had more information. This was an excellent opportunity.

Perhaps Dumbledore would even provide a mild dose of assistance if it was ever truly needed?

It was nearly time for dinner and Severus was heading to his quarters that remained in the dungeons where it had always been, despite his changed teaching post.

His path was crossed by Slughorn who had just been exiting the Potions classroom and immediately stopped to greet his former student and slug-club member.

'Ah Severus, m'boy!' Slughorn beamed.

'Greetings, Horace.' Severus respectfully returned and scowled at himself for nearly adding the “sir”.

'Now, I should be quite mad at you.' Slughorn said in a cheerful voice that contradicted his own words.

'When you came by during the summer to convince me to return to this teaching post, you failed to mention the exceptional brilliance one would fail to miss in a few particular students. Such as those two exceedingly bright 6th year potioneers you've taught; sheer talent!'

'Two?' Severus frowned. He knew of know-it-all Granger but not even Draco Malfoy would be outstanding enough in his skill to capture Slughorn's delighted attention.

'Why yes, Miss Granger and Mr Potter certainly know their potions.'

'Potter?' Severus gawked at his old teacher who was surely losing his touch.

'Of course, the boy clearly has Lily's talent!' Slughorn grinned. 'You must be proud to have had him in your classroom for all those years. With the flawless Draught of Living Death he brewed today; sheer perfection!'

Severus was dumbfounded to realize that Slughorn was not exaggerating.

Still, he refused to believe that Potter was as good as Slughorn said he was. Severus had seen none of that “Lily inherited”, skill in which he had relentlessly searched for during the past five years. In that one lesson with Slughorn, the boy had obviously cheated; Yes, a mere fluke it was.

Confident with his conclusion, Severus continued onwards to his quarters and found a letter waiting for him on his desk. The mysterious S.J.E was a good enough distraction from all things Potter, and therefore Severus sat down to read it immediately.

He read each word carefully and was sure that the student had to be in Slytherin as the level of cunning that went into each response was unmistakable. Deciding on a reply, Severus reached for his quill and a fresh roll of parchment.

Severus paused and wasn't sure where to begin. He had plenty to comment about the boy's attitude (although it wasn't actually stated, Severus had a strong feeling that this student was male), and how flattery wouldn't get him very far in this situation.

And yet to put it into the letter seemed oddly...irrelevant.

It was a rather painstaking moment to just stare at the mostly blank parchment as though he was a first year deciding on how to begin a lengthly essay.

Severus hated that feeling and was determined to place ink to paper, so to speak.

Severus didn't compliment anyone very often (although some would say he didn't at all), but the reasoning behind the concealed identity had shown immense skill in self-preservation and necessary caution.

If this student was in his class than how had he missed the boy's talent for five years? Perhaps it was the subject itself; Potion-making may not provide enough opportunity for the obvious use of such a skill. Perhaps Defense Against the Dark Arts will achieve what Potions could not?

Of course, if Severus truly had to know who the student was than it would be all too easy; a few tracking spells and select charms, and he would have no trouble discovering who the elusive S.J.E was.

It was the principal of the matter in which prevented him from doing this in such a manner.

Previously, he liked to think that he could find out who the student was without the necessary force. And now Severus was intrigued by the boy's skill and decided to abide by the ingenious reasoning behind why he should not know too many details. Because – as much as he loathed to admit it – the sixteen-year-old had a point about being biased and the certain level of expectation as well as judgment that came with such knowledge.

--

When it was time to head down for dinner, Harry and Ron left Toby in their dormitory as always, although they had parted with the promise to return with food.

The boys tried to ignore the students that attempted to get a better look at Harry or stared intently at him the entire way to the Great Hall; this always proved to be rather difficult.

'You'd think it would've worn off by now.' Ron commented as he spotted Hermione and joined her at the Gryffindor table.

'They're doing it more than usual.' Harry grumbled as he served himself a dinner roll and some chicken.

'It's just because of all the you-know-who stuff.' Hermione sighed. 'It'll tone done again after a awhile, like it always does. So how did the research go?'

'Brilliant!' Ron grinned. 'We've figured it out, well it was my idea but...' He shrugged and his ears turned a little red.

'It's perfect.' Harry agreed. He watched Hermione for a moment and a frown formed on his face as he realized something. 'With S.P.E.W, I'd have thought you'd be the first to suggest it.'

'House-elves?' Hermione's eyebrows formed together in a clear sign of annoyance in retaliation to his own expression. 'What about them?'

'Hermione.' Harry exhaled. 'You'd have to research their jobs, treatment, punishments, and expectations. Why didn't you say that child-minding was one of them?' He accused.

'Because it's wrong.' Hermione quickly answered. Ron wondered if they should be talking about such things over dinner in the Great Hall, but otherwise he didn't offer any comments towards the matter; he believed Harry did have a point. Ron didn't want to be the one to tell Hermione that.

'Only a parent should raise a child. The house-elves only did the basics and a child still needs the love and attention of their carer.' Hermione added desperately.

'I was only going to suggest it if we found no other option, Harry!'

But Harry wasn't listening anymore. He stood from the table (snatching a few rolls as he did), and turned to storm from hall. This time he didn't care who stared or whispered about it.

The answer had been there the entire time and Hermione hadn't said anything, not even a clue, and therefore allowing Harry to lose almost all hope in his mission. She had said nothing.

He felt angry and betrayed, which resulted in him calling to Toby from the moment he strode into the dormitory.

'We have a plan and it's going to work.' Harry told the boy as he handed over the buttered rolls. 'Dobby!'

Pop, Dobby appeared before him and looked around at the room with a mingled sense of curiosity and delight.

'Harry Potter has called Dobby?' The elf turned to him and lightly tipped his head to the side as though he was figuring something out. 'Is Harry Potter ready to become Dobby's new master?'

'Yes. I am.' Harry nodded although he felt little less angry and more nervous now. 'How does this “bonding” think work exactly?'

Dobby wasn't sure how to describe it and since they had both agreed that he would be Harry's new house-elf, he simple went ahead with it. Dobby began to glow whiter as his hands turned a pearly blue and his eyes paled as though a cloud filled his sockets.

Toby gasped at the sight and dropped his last roll as he frantically backed away from the scene. Harry saw Dobby raise a hand for him to shake; in response, the teenager slowly grasped the elf's bony, smaller hand and tried to prepare himself for what may come of it.

There was a blinding light to accompany the intense burning sensation from where their hands joined; it was a very unsettling feeling to feel as though your own blood was being boiled.

Jerking back, the light and pain faded rather quickly and no evidence had been left behind other than a frightened little boy.

'Harry!' Toby ran to him and hugged him around the middle for the comfort and reassurance that they were all okay.

'It is done, Master.' Dobby bowed. 'What is Dobby to wear?'

'Huh?' Harry remembered the toga-like clothes that many house-elves often wore as a mark of their enslavement.

'Anything; I don't care.' He tossed the subject away as he turned his hands over and observed how ordinary they remained, yet a certain bit of magic had definitely bonded itself to him from the inside out.

'What happened?' Toby asked worriedly. 'Why'd that thing call you “master”, Harry?'

'This is my house-elf, Dobby.' Harry explained while Dobby smiled and fashioned himself a jet-black toga with a golden lightning bolt on the front (for Harry's scar).

Perhaps Harry should have chosen the attire.

'A house-elf is a magical creature that helps us out whenever we need it.' Harry added as he placed a hand on the smaller boy's shoulder. 'He'll be keeping you company when I'm not here, and make sure our secret is safe.'

'Hello.' Dobby beamed at Toby. 'Who is you?'

'Toby.' The boy introduced himself in a quietly defiant voice.

'Dobby, do you think you could plan a child-minding schedule if I write up a timetable of when I'll be busy?' Harry asked.

'Dobby would be honored, Master Harry Potter.' The elf bowed.

'Er...good. Thanks, Dobby.' The teenager exhaled with relief.

'Right, now Toby needs to eat. Could you get something from the kitchen, like some chicken and vegetables?' Harry felt very uncomfortable about telling anyone what to do even though he knew he had to get used to it for the sake of their plan.

'Dobby will get the food now, Master Harry Potter.' And with that, Dobby vanished again to fulfill his first task as Harry's house-elf.

It would still be a long road ahead and yet with Dobby's help, Harry felt confident that things were already better and safer for Toby.

--

As Harry watched Toby happily eat his arranged dinner while Dobby made plans nearby as well as taking the chance to get to know the little boy some more, an owl flew through an open window and dropped Harry's recent letter from Snape onto his lap.

Reading it over once, Harry bit his lip and reached for a quill to scribble a response onto a scrap of parchment right away. Of course, it took a moment to get over the shock of receiving a compliment from Professor Snape and most of Harry's time was consumed with re-reading that section to make sure it was indeed as it appeared to be.

Once he was satisfied with what he had written, Harry charmed the handwriting and sent the reply back with the same owl. There had been no hesitation in his actions as he was fiercely determined that everything was going to be fine now as he continued to watch Dobby and Toby working together as though they had been doing it for days.

The past few weeks had felt as though a troll of responsibility had been pressing harder onto Harry's shoulders, but at that moment it had been effected by a featherlight charm; it's presence was still there, and yet it was no longer a burdening weight in which he struggled to maintain.

Harry sighed and allowed himself this moment of confidence and relief, unsure if it would last or if another metaphorical troll was going to take the place of the other.

At that moment it didn't matter to Harry because the fact remained...he now had a plan.

Once Hermione had heard that Harry - a supposed member of S.P.E.W and her friend – had “enslaved” Dobby, the house-elf...she was furious. Harry and Hermione had never been so apart as they were during those few weeks because they stubbornly refused to talk to each other; although oddly enough, Ron was never caught in the middle.

During every Potions lesson, Harry continued to follow the Half-Blood Prince's instructions whenever possible, which led to Slughorn constantly bragging about his “talent”. It only angered Hermione further, although (for some reason unknown to the boys), she never reported Harry's “cheating”, and simply settled to ignore him even further (if possible!). The class quickly became Harry's best subject and he couldn't help feeling good about that.

And yet the biggest change of all was the one that no one ever noticed nor suspected.

Every morning once the Gryffindor students had left their dormitories for breakfast, Dobby would bring Toby any reasonable breakfast the boy requested or that Harry had specified. He would make sure that Toby had showered, dressed, and was properly groomed before he popped them to the Room of Requirement where Dobby would oversee the boy's task of learning from instructive books about the basics (such as mathematical solutions, manners, writing – this was done with a quill, reading, and magical plant/animal identification), as well as children's introductions to the ways of the Wizarding world.

Toby would have lunch there (sometimes Ron and Harry would join them), and finally Dobby would take the boy to concealed, protected clearing on the grounds so that Toby could play and run around like any child his age should.

On the weekends, the boys had to study or practice Quidditch (since Harry was the captain and Ron had made the team), and during that time Toby would often sit nearby with a book or watch them while Dobby supervised (in the case of Quidditch, Toby would be concealed under the cloak, of course).

Any time in which Harry wasn't studying, practicing Quidditch, ignoring Hermione, taking classes, or trying to devote his unwavering attention to Toby, he was reading his Potions textbook or his stolen mind book.

In addition to making him the top of Slughorn's class, the Half-Blood Prince's book also taught him some new spells in which he had already carefully tried out; Ron hadn't originally been too pleased with the “Levicorpus” one as it had him hanging by his ankles upside-down over his bed one morning. Harry wasn't very fond of it either, only because it reminded him of how his father James used to use that spell against Snape in order to humiliate the Slytherin.

Another secret in which was being kept from Snape was that Harry had been training hard with Dobby during some free time in order to improve his non-verbal spell-casting skills. And now it was finally time to show that git how he wasn't lacking in the mind techniques as his spiteful professor always implied.

They were having another duel-like session in Defense Against the Dark Arts (similar to the first one they'd had with Snape that year), and Harry eagerly counted down the minutes until he could head to class.

'Come on.' He got up off the floor of the Room of Requirement as he decided to walk Toby back to the dormitory himself rather than calling for Dobby. It was an excellent way to waste time and therefore speed up the waiting period for Harry's next lesson.

If he took a moment to realize that he was actually excited for a class simply because Snape taught it than Harry would have thought he'd gone mad.

Once Toby was concealed under the cloak, they left the room and headed for the Gryffindor tower. No sooner had they entered the first corridor along the way, someone turned a corner ahead and smirked at Harry. He was joined by Crabbe and Goyle, which only made matters worst and Harry felt at loss of what to do.

'Look who it is, boys.' Draco said. 'Potty Scarhead.' He sneered as the other two laughed. 'I heard you and the mudblood are fighting? Took you long enough to see her for what she is.'

'Sod off, Malfoy.' Harry snarled. He could control his anger more easily now but that horrible name for muggleborns still infuriated him to no end.

'Not so friendly, eh?' Draco frowned. 'Well boys, I think we should teach Potter a thing or two about respect.'

Backing away (although he had extracted his wand from his robes as a precaution), Harry knew he was in trouble as he attempted to shield Toby with his form.

'Hello, Harry.' Luna appeared by his side with Ginny; they had heard the commotion and already had their wands out from the moment they recognized the Slytherin's voice.

'Now it's more even.' Ginny glared at Draco.

'It takes a pair of girls to fight us?' The blonde scoffed although he did appear to be somewhat more cautious than before.

'No.' Ginny replied. 'It only takes one to beat you.'

Harry watched the scene unfold and in the back of his mind he continued to realize that he was going to be late for class if he didn't hurry. Turning cautiously, he thanked his friends and left the Slytherins at the mercy of Ginny's bat bogey hex.

Forgetting all about Dobby, Harry hurried along the corridors and stairs until he reached the Gryffindor tower.

'I heard Snape doesn't like you.' Toby commented as Harry searched for his books in the otherwise empty dormitory. It still amazed him how Toby had memorized his entire class schedule better than he had.

'He doesn't.' Harry replied without giving it much thought. 'Because he hates my father.'

'Why?' Toby removed the cloak and looked at his guardian. 'That's not fair.'

'My dad and his friends picked on Snape.' Harry huffed as he couldn't find his book. 'Dobby!'

'Like Malfoy does to you?' The six-year-old asked with such simplicity and yet it caused Harry to stop and stare at the boy. He loved the Marauders like family (apart from Peter, for obvious reasons), and yet it was too true to deny...they had indeed bullied Snape like Draco bullied him, only worst. Snape hadn't had the friends Harry does and the Marauders had either known that fact or made sure of it.

'Yes, Master Harry Potter?' Dobby appeared to take over his duties as requested. Once the elf had retrieved his required textbook for him, Harry stood and rushed from the room as sense of cold spread to his fingertips.

'And there he goes.' Toby sighed as he sadly watched the troubled teen leave.

'Dobby is wondering if young Toby is hungry?' The elf glanced at the boy who was still a bit taller than he was.

'No.' Toby shook his head. 'But thanks, Dobby.' He remembered his manners.

'Dobby is happy to help Master Harry Potter and young Toby.' The elf bowed.

Toby glanced at the creature and a small smile spread across his lips. It had taken a little while but he had finally come to accept the house-elf and wasn't afraid of him anymore. Dobby made the times without Harry seem less lonely, and for that the boy would be eternally grateful.

--

The walk to the Defense classroom seemed longer as Harry imagined how he would feel if Draco had hung him upside-down; defenseless and humiliated. No wonder Snape hated the Marauders and by extension, him.

He had barely made it on time for the lesson and yet Snape had given him a detention anyway. The session was to begin as planned until a Ravenclaw boy bravely raised his hand and asked what a patronus looked like.

Severus glared at the boy as he would have preferred to be asked after the lesson rather than right when they were about to start. Nevertheless, he decided indulge in the raven's request.

However, Severus could not be the one to conjure the spell for several reasons, mostly because he did not want anyone to know what his patronus was; it wasn't something he wished to share in general, but also it was a precaution. Knowing what ones patronus was or even that he can use the spell was a risky move for someone like Severus; a true Death Eater could not conjure one.

He had no idea that half of his class was made up of DA members in which could conjure the said patronus...but Severus knew Potter could.

Seeing as everyone already knew what form Potter's patronus would take, he decided to give the boy his moment to “show off”, as Severus called it.

Harry could see no reason to decline the instruction (nor did he think he actually had a choice in the matter), and therefore stepped forward with his wand raised and his eyes fixated on a random space on the floor as he prepared to perform the spell.

'Expecto Patronum!'Harry incanted. A wisp of blue clouded from his wand and a tingling sensation spread through his hands and ankles that was neither warm no cold. This had never happened before.

'Save the theatrics for your fan club, Potter.' Snape scowled and yet even the professor seemed a bit unsure about what had transpired.

No matter how annoyed Harry still was with Snape, Toby's words had made a mental mark on him; all he could see was a vivid image of the similarities between James Potter and Draco Malfoy...the bullies.

'Expecto Patronum!' Harry tried again and with intense relief, the corporal form of the spell burst from his wand and circled the room. Only it did not canter and the horns, hooves, and horse-like body was gone. Those who knew Harry's original form the spell had previously taken, were stunned to no longer see a proud stag patronus and instead watched the fierce lioness leap around the classroom.

Harry, unsure of what this meant, turned towards Snape who narrowed his eyes at him for a brief moment and than proceeded with the lesson.

'What happened, mate?' Ron asked as his friend lowered his wand and the unfamiliar lioness evaporated.

'I dunno, somethings different.' Harry frowned. He shook his head and stuck to his original plan for the lesson; he would save the additional issue of his patronus for later.

Despite using (or trying to use), non-verbal spells in Defense, Charms, and Transfiguration, few were yet to become very good at it; other than Hermione, of course. That was about to change.

There was a spell Harry wanted to try as he hadn't had the chance to test it yet. This hadn't come from the Prince's book but was composed entirely within his own mind. He had even done a bit of research and felt confident enough that Ron wouldn't be expecting it.

Feeling Snape's gaze on them, it was time to give his new creation a go and Harry prayed it would not be the last thing he ever did.

“Expellicorpus!” Harry thought forcefully in his mind and watched as his wand emitted violet sparks that forced Ron backwards onto the floor as though he had been punched in the stomach with enough strength to knock him over.

'What spell was that?' Ron gasped as he sat upright with a numb wince. 'I feel weird and sluggish.' He frowned.

'I too would like to know the answer to that question.' Snape eyed Harry with obvious distrust and unwavering suspicion. 'Mr Potter?' He raised an eyebrow at the teen.

'It's a delaying jinx that knocks the opponent over and dazes them a little.' The explanation had come only from Ron's reaction as Harry hadn't been 100% certain that it would work as he had hoped.

Following his answer, Harry turned to stare right at Snape. 'Since non-verbal spells aim to surprise, what better way to do that than to use a self-created spell?' He shrugged. 'I thought it was okay since you never said we couldn't do it and this spell is quite harmless, sir.'

'The incantation, Mr Potter?' Severus frowned at the defiant and logically correct boy; no matter how hard he tried to conceal it, Severus was impressed by the Gryffindor, to say the least.

'Expellicorpus.' Harry replied. 'Derived from “Expilliarmus”, and “Levicorpus”, I believe.'

Severus stared hard at Harry and swallowed before he turned abruptly and shouted for the lesson to commence. He continued to watch as Potter shifted between opponents and with jolt of disbelief, Severus realized that the Gryffindor had mastered the basics of non-verbal magic in a duel.

Had he underestimated Harry that much?

Severus continued to muse on the new skills he saw in the Gryffindor well after the lesson had concluded. He returned to his quarters and sank into he nearest leather armchair in front of his dim fireplace.

There was a certain change in Potter that couldn't be blamed on the loss of the teenager's godfather, Sirius Black. Something must have happened over the course of the summer and yet the Order had surely been discreetly guarding the boy. Potter seemed older in a way that had nothing to do with age. Something had happened now that hadn't occurred when the boy had found about the truth about his parents and Peter, battled Voldemort numerous times, dealt with Umbridge, faced a werewolf and the Dementors...and witnessed death.

A key point in Potter's life had been dramatically rearranged and yet it was completely invisible.

Severus ran a hand over his tired face and decided that he needed a distraction that didn't include the marking of incompetent homework. He stood and moved to the desk in his office where he focused upon a due letter.

As Harry awoke really early the following morning on the day of their first Hogsmeade trip of the term, he could not believe how much time had already passed by since he had smuggled Toby into Hogwarts. The fact that they were halfway through October seemed incomprehensible at that particular moment.

Yawning stiffly, Harry sat upright and nudged his glasses into place. He extracted some textbooks from nearby and set about perusing the final few pages of his set reading for Transfiguration.

Catching the sight of movement, Harry glanced over to his right to see Toby watching him sleepily. Inspired by Harry's lack of cautious instruction, Toby crawled onto the bed and slipped under the warm covers beside the teen. The boy clutched at the invisibility cloak he'd tugged along with him, just in case.

'Whatcha reading?' Toby whispered.

'Transfiguration.' Harry replied and showed the boy the cover of his book.

'Oh. Dobby told me a bit about that.' Toy nodded as he continued to keep his voice low. 'It's about turning something into something else, right?'

'Yeah.' Harry sighed and closed his book as there was no way in which he could concentrate with Toby sitting beside him.

'What's Hogsmeade like?' Toby remembered Harry telling him about their trip for a while and was eager to know more.

'It's great and is one of the few places that muggles can never see.'

'Wow!' Toby smiled. 'And you said we had to go secretly, why?'

'Filch, the nasty caretaker, is checking everyone and I don't want to risk you being discovered, so we have to sneak in.'

'How?'

'You'll see.' Harry threw back the covers and climbed out of bed to get dressed. There was still some time before breakfast and he really wasn't sure what to do.

'Can we go to the big room?' Toby crawled to the end of the bed, using his preferred nickname for the Room of Requirement.

'Sure, get dressed.' Harry nodded.

Once they were both ready, Harry led the invisible Toby out of the dormitory where they came across a studying Hermione already dressed in her Gryffindor robes.

'Harry, wait!' She quickly got to her feet as the boys made to move past her.

'Are you talking to me again?' He asked in an accusing tone; although, truthfully he had really missed her in the last couple of weeks and hated that they were still fighting.

'This is ridiculous!' Hermione exclaimed. 'It's all over nothing! A mis-understanding and a few over-reactions on both our parts.'

'That's not nothing.' Toby commented on the bigger words. He was instantly shushed by Harry.

The bespectacled teenager stared at Hermione's obviously apologetic face before he exhaled and offered her a small smile.

'We're going to the Room of Requirement until breakfast.' He told her. 'Would you like to come with us?'

'Oh, yes!' Hermione's face lit up at the invitation.

'Thank-you, Harry.' She added along the way. 'I'm really sorry and I should've told you about the house-elves sooner.'

'And I didn't let you explain.' Harry shrugged. 'We both caused this. I'm just glad it's over. Promise we won't fight for that long again?'

'I promise!' Hermione chuckled as they reached the spot in which to call the room.

Once Harry had brought the door to them with the need to find a place that was comfortable, the trio stepped inside and Toby was able to pull off the cloak.

'I'm glad you're back too, Miss Hermione.' He smiled up at her and revealed a gap in the bottom row of his teeth.

'Hello, Toby, me too.' She nodded. 'And you've lost a tooth!'

'Yeah, I pulled it out cuz I didn't like it moving when I touched it.' The boy reached into his pocket to pull out a golden galleon. 'It hurt lots, but look! I got money for it.' Toby grinned. 'Harry said I can spent it today.'

'That's nice.' Hermione agreed and glanced at Harry, who was smiling sheepishly; they both knew that the “tooth fairy” tradition was purely a muggle thing. If such a thing even existed, it certainly wouldn't have happened in a place like Hogwarts.

'How are you going to get Toby by Filch?' Hermione worried as she realized that the little boy was going to Hogsmeade as well.

'The secret passageway to Honeydukes.' Harry answered.

'Unless Remus told Dumbledore about it and it's blocked.' Hermione sighed. 'I thought...well, Dobby is allowed in and out of Hogwarts so there's no reason why he shouldn't be able to bring Toby along.' She lowered her gaze as her suggestion related to what had started their argument.

'Since he is your house-elf and a Hogwarts elf. At least he's being paid.' Hermione muttered the last part.

'Thanks, that would be better.' Harry nodded at his friend as he hadn't know that Dobby could do that.

'What do you think of Dobby?' Hermione asked Toby curiously as she doubted the boy had ever seen a house-elf before Harry had bonded with Dobby.

'He's a bit weird. And he teaches me lots of stuff about magic.' Toby shrugged. 'But he only does what Harry tells him to.' The boy scowled.

'Oh, Harry...nice work with the non-verbal spells, by the way.' Hermione remembered. 'And that spell you used on Ron, it didn't come from the Prince's book, did it?' She frowned.

'No.' Harry responded. 'I really did make it up.'

'And your Patronus?' She narrowed her eyes as she thought upon it. 'What happened to your stag?'

Harry extracted his wand from the sleeve of his robes (a habit he had only recently formed and yet wasn't sure why), and cast the spell. They watched as the lioness ran around the room just as it had in the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom the day it had changed.

'I dunno.' Harry shrugged with a gruff sigh.

'Katty!' Toby grinned and began to follow the patronus around as though it was a game of chase.

“Katty?” Hermie repeated and turned to Harry for an explanation.

'He named it.' Harry shook his head with amusement. He moved to brush the dark strands of hair from where they had fallen over his eyes, having not realized how quickly it was growing when he paid it no attention.

'Ever since he read in some book that all things great and terrible had a name, he's taken it upon himself to name certain things.'

'He's a special kid.' Hermione glanced over at Toby, who was laughing and running after the conjured cat. 'And he could have ended up anywhere after that fire. It's lucky he found you.'

'We're both lucky.' Harry smiled at the joyous Toby. He believed that he was far luckier to have Toby than vice versa. Already he was beginning to wonder how life had ever been without Toby around and yet Harry hoped it would be this way forever.

Except maybe one day they won't have to hide.

'Is it really that cold outside?' Toby raised an eyebrow as he tugged at his emerald sweater.

'Yes!' Hermione sounded exasperated as she placed a silver and blue beanie over his head. She had knitted it herself as well as the black gloves and deep maroon scarf.

'You're all set.' Hermione grinned at his completed outfit.

'She really missed him, didn't she?' Ron sighed as he and Harry observed the pair from a safe distance.

'Yeah.' Harry agreed. 'She's asked him to re-tell he tooth story three times now.'

'It's getting a bit annoying, really.' Ron was however, pleased that his two best friends had reconciled after such long time.

Although it had been quite a shock to wake up and find the pair laughing together as though nothing had happened. After they explained how Harry had bumped into Hermione in the common room than gone to the Room of Requirement together and made up, Ron joined in with a grin of his own.

'We'd better get going.' Harry realized as he placed his winter cloak around his shoulders. The plan was that the Gryffindor trio would leave the castle with the rest of their schoolmates as though nothing had changed, whereas secretly Toby would be waiting for Dobby to retrieve him and take him to their assigned meeting spot in Hogsmeade.

'Oh, alright!' Hermione sighed heavily. 'We'll see you soon, Toby.' She waved to the child as she turned and followed her friends out of the dormitory.

Toby stood there for a moment and watched them leave before he looked back into the mirror. He sneaked a glance at the doorway and pulled out his treasured golden coin with a smile, briefly wondering what he was going to buy with it as he waited for Dobby to appear and take him to the villiage.

--

As the trio reached the oak front doors of Hogwarts, they saw Filch checking off the names of the people who had permission and than searching them with his secrecy sensor.

While Ron complained bitterly about this to Hermione, Harry's gaze wandered towards his left where Professor McGonagall was in a deep conversation about something with Professor Sprout. Not far from those pair was Professor Snape. Harry had seen several of his teachers going to the village during their trips, but to his knowledge, Snape had never made one of those appearances.

As emerald eyes met obsidian, Harry instantly looked away and rushed after his friends.

The harsh winds that hurled at the students when they began to walk towards the village, gradually faded until it was merely chilly and infrequently breezy. The trio had arranged to meet Dobby just inside of Honeydukes but weren't sure if they should proceed when Neville unpredictably joined them.

'Hi, guys.' He greeted them with a gloved hand.

'Hi, Neville.' They answered and at least tried to be friendly. It quickly became apparent that Neville wanted to hang around them for most part of the day.

With a well-phrased excuse, Harry split from his friends and headed for Honeydukes.

Pushing open the door to the magical sweet store, Harry instantly spotted Toby over by the fudge section where the little boy clutched tightly to his precious coin. Perhaps this particular store had not been the best meeting place when a child of Toby's age was involved.

'Can I buy something here?' Toby turned his excitement-lit eyes towards Harry the moment the teen had reached him.

Dobby spotted Harry instantly (he had concealed himself very closely to Toby to avoid being noticed or leaving the boy unprotected), and popped away as planned.

'I've never had any of these things before and they look so good, please?'

'Yeah, sure.' Harry nodded as he couldn't see any reason as to why the boy shouldn't be allowed to spend his own money. Besides, that particular look the boy had cast his way made it terribly difficult to deny the request that accompanied it.

The door swung open a moment later and Ron rushed to Harry's side as casually as he could without drawing unwanted attention to themselves.

'He knows.' Ron whispered urgently.

'What?' Harry swallowed a lump of air as nervousness gushed through him; he had instantly thought of Snape.

'Neville. He knows about...' Ron glanced over a Toby, who was busy telling the lady at the counter exactly what he wanted.

'How?' Harry returned although he couldn't help but feel a little relieved. A fellow Gryffindor DA member having the knowledge of Toby's existence was nowhere near as bad as Snape finding out.

'Apparently Hermione's spells don't work on Trevor.' Ron frowned about the toad. 'Neville followed him under your bed a few days ago and saw Toby sleeping there. Hermione's talking to him now.'

'I'm done.' Toby rejoined Harry and glanced up at the two Gryffindor teenagers. 'What's wrong?' He anxiously clung to his purchases when he saw their serious expressions.

'Nothing.' Harry dismissed as he didn't want to ruin or dampen Toby's day in Hogsmeade by worrying him.

Harry, Ron, and Toby stepped out of the warm, sugary-scented store and winced against the coldness of the outdoors. Spotting Hermione and Neville near the boarded-up Zonko's store, the boys instantly began to approach them.

'Harry, I've still got some money.' Toby held up his change as they were momentarily separated from Ron; the redhead's longer strides had put Ron ahead and the remaining pair had to wait for a large group of third years to pass before they could continue.

'Well, that's good. Keep it.' Harry advised.

Toby nodded and emptied his hands into the pockets of his pants.

The third years had gone in the direction of The Three Broomsticks, yet neither boy made a move to join the others several feet away. Something else had captured their attention; just outside the Hog's Head pub, a small scene was taking place that most didn't notice or else only paid it a passing glance. Harry and Toby couldn't understand why, as the argument that was clearly taking place appeared to escalating rather rapidly.

Curious, Harry and Toby crept closer to observe what was going on, mostly due to the fact that they recognized those who were involved in the heated discussion.

'Don't call me Nymphadora!' Tonks hissed as though she was at least attempting to be discreet.

'It is your given name, is it not?' Severus narrowed his eyes at her.

'So? You answer to “Snivellus”, or so I heard.'

In a blur of motion, each of their wands appeared to materialize into their hands. While Toby gasped with surprise, Harry began to worry how far this would go. And why would two Order members be doing this in public? Harry still found it strange how no one else seemed to be giving the adults even a second of interest.

'You ought to be cautious.' Severus warned venomously. 'There are only so many times in which one can go tattling to Dumbledore.'

'I suppose you would know all about that.' Tonks muttered bravely. She exhaled heavily and thought upon something with a serious expression. However, when she opened her mouth to say it, she paused upon noticing that Severus was no longer looking at her.

Following his hardened gaze, Tonks was alarmed by the sight of Harry and the little boy at his side.

'I thought you had cast those shields yourself?' Tonks frowned at Severus.

The Slytherin said nothing as his eyes narrowed suspiciously towards Harry without even noticing Toby.

'Wotcher, Harry.' Tonks greeted him but even her face was far too lined and her tone hesitant. She sounded distant and tired, if not annoyed by the collected company she had.

'What's going on?' Harry asked as Toby huddled closer to him. The teenager's gaze shifted between the adults but Snape seemed frozen to the spot as he stared at the Gryffindor as though seeing him for the first time.

'I have to go.' Tonks realized as she spotted someone from afar; a thickly cloaked wizard who appeared to be carrying a bottomless cauldron and a tattered old jacket.

In response to her words, Severus raised his wand and moved it across his face with a fluid motion that could almost be considered graceful. Harry could feel the magic in the air around them as the invisible shield vanished.

That would explain why no one else had given the pair their full attention; except that Harry had no trouble seeing or hearing them, which was likely the reason behind the odd look Snape was giving him. It was exactly the same look he saw during the dueling club in second year when Snape had realized that Harry was a parseltongue.

Harry was in the process of either making a quick exit or else formulating an excuse to do so, when Snape's gaze drifted downwards and fixated on Toby.

Nerves clenched at Harry's stomach and he felt incapable of moving or speaking coherently.

Raising an eyebrow at Harry, Snape was clearly demanding to know why he had a small child with him. Toby caught onto the expression's meaning and bravely stepped forwards in a defensive stance.

'We better go.' Harry intervened once he saw this. He turned to leave but the icy cold tone of Snape's made him halt his motions with a demonstrative wince.

'Not. So. Fast. Mr Potter.' Snape glared as he approached the boys and stared down at them in his usual intimidating manner. 'Explain. Who is this boy? He is clearly far too young to attend Hogwarts.'

Harry swallowed nervously as he mentally fought for an answer. 'He's...ah, he's a fan.' He quickly invented.

'Is that so?' Snape clearly didn't believe him.

'Oh, yeah!' Toby inhaled and and forced up a grin. 'He's Harry Potter! He stopped you-know-who when he was younger than me!' The boy exclaimed. 'And...my father let me hang out with him today, cool huh?'

Harry saw the warning signs of Legilimency in the man's dark eyes and reacted by grasping Toby's arm, with the intention of tugging the boy away from his suspecting professor.

'And we better get back to Ron and Hermione.' Harry gasped out to Snape. 'Besides, you've probably got other important things to do, sir.' Harry wasn't sure why he felt he should add that comment but in a few seconds it didn't matter.

Severus watched as the two boys hurried away and wondered why he felt compelled to investigate further. He saw the small boy glance over his shoulder and offer him a small wave wih the absence of the distrust he was used to from every other person. For some reason unknown to the bitter man...that tiny action had highly unsettled Severus.

Something had changed with Potter and he refused to ignore it any longer.

'Nice save.' Harry added to Toby as they caught up with Ron, Hermione and Neville.

'There you are!' Hermione scowled anxiously. 'Where did you go?'

'Just checking something.' Harry exhaled and noticed that his friends had their wands out. 'What happened?'

'Malfoy.' Ron huffed angrily. His statement needed no further explanation.

After a weird moment of silence, Neville glanced down at the small boy and smiled shyly. 'You must be Toby.' He said.

'Yeah.' Toby inched closer to Harry as the eyed the other Gryffindor warily, even if he recognized him from the dormitory.

'It's okay, Toby.' Harry reassured him. 'It's just Neville, he knows too.'

'Hi.' Toby nodded timidly.

As the wind picked up, the group decided to discuss the issue later and began to walk through the snow to a less-frequented section of the village.

Toby looked down at the snowy ground at his feet and bent to grab a handful of it with his gloved hands. Biting his lip at the temptation, he chose not to fight the urge and hurled the icy substance directly at Harry.

The snow hit the surprised teenager in the back and a snow war immediately began; even Hermione joined in. She teamed up with Toby and dpiste the fact that they were easily losing (and were outnumbered!), each laughed heartily through it all.

From a decent distance away, Severus watched the group tossing snow at each other, and pondered on the two boys of interest; Potter and the little brat he had with him. The Gryffindor had dragged the child away rather quickly, but Severus had still seen it. The fierce protectiveness, the fear and vulnerability, as well as the unwavering determination.

He had seen a similar version of that expression before, in a different set of emerald eyes.

With one final glance at the snow-throwing group, Severus tugged at his cloak and turned away from the sight of their enjoyment. He walked purposefully through the snow in the direction of the Hog's Head; his expression seemed to be almost sad although the black hair that hung about his face carefully concealed it.

For the rest of that day, his thoughts ventured from the little boy whose name he never heard and instead, rather reluctantly, recalled a redheaded girl Severus could never hope to forget.

--

'You missed!' Toby declared triumphantly to Harry, only to receive a face of snow from Ron. 'Hey!' He scowled and used the hem of his sweater to rub it off. Toby huffed and reached down to scoop more snow, while he carefully watched the others; the three older boys had suddenly started taking cover from Hermione's spelled snow that she aimed their way after they'd all attacked her at once.

'That's cheating!' Ron complained as he shook the gradually melting snow from his red hair.

Harry chuckled at his friend's misfortune and raised his arm to throw a handful of snow towards Hermione. He paused when he turned and saw the look that had just formed on Toby's face.

'Stop!' Harry told his friends urgently and everyone glanced around to stare at the small boy.

Toby's face was so pale that it bended in with the whiteness of the snow around them. His eyes were wide, yet calculating, as he stared straight ahead, oblivious to the snowing that was melting away in his hand.

'Toby, what is it?' Harry rushed to the boy's side, all thoughts of the snow game gone. Dropping the defrosted snow, Toby raised his hand to point into the distance. The four teenagers moved closer to see what had caught the little boy's desturbed attention.

It was a witch. She had frizzy, brown hair that was visible under her purple sun hat. She was a slightly short, chubby woman and despite that, her fleeting gaze was firm and her posture dominating. Something about her just wasn't quite right.

'She was at the orphanage the day of the fire!'Toby gasped shakily. And before anyone had the chance to react to his startling realization, Toby had taken off at a sprint towards that witch who was at least an entire street away.

'Toby!' Harry darted forward but hadn't been fast enough to stop the boy. Panicked, he chased after him and was dismayed to discover that Toby was much faster than he was.

'Harry!' His friends called out and hurried after the two boys.

'Toby, come back!' Harry shouted as the wind began to howl and snowflakes filled the darkening sky.

The small boy and the mysterious woman were nowhere to be seen.

As mind-numbing thoughts of kidnap and harm, filled Harry with terror, he charged forward and barely had time to register that he had dumped into someone. Not wanting to waste even a second, Harry moved to continue his frantic search for the small boy. His actions were hindered by the fact that whomever he had bumped into now grasped his shoulders and attempted to gain his attention.

'Whoa, Harry! Remus raised his tone over the wind and teenager's struggling. He tried to level Harry's gaze with his own, but with little success.

'He's gone!' Harry desperately fought against Remus' grip.

'Who?'

'Toby!' Harry turned and stared directly into Remus' eyes, his own filled with pleading and ushered tears.

Remus stared at Harry for a brief moment and nodded. Instead of asking further time-consuming questions, the Marauder turned to survey their surroundings with a searching gaze.

'What does he look like?'

'A kid version of Snape.' Harry answered and ignored the alarmed expression on Remus' face.

'Harry!' Hermione and Ron caught up to him. 'Neville found him!'

The didn't need further motivation as each hurried across the village to a spot near the outskirts where the shrieking shack was visible.

'How'd he get all the way out here?' Harry frowned as he approached the stump Toby was sitting on while Neville stood protectively beside the boy with his wand in one hand, just in case he should need it.

The boy's clothes were drenched with melted snow, his cheeks flushed from the harsh winds, and his hair hung about his face like heavy, black curtains. His expression was one of guilt, anxiety, and sadness.

Otherwise, Toby appeared to be unharmed.

'You promised to do what you were told!' Harry was filled with both relief and irritation upon seeing him.

'Please, don't send me away!' Toby jumped up as he unleashed his pleas and didn't care who stood around them to witness it.

'Why did you run away?' Harry demanded to know. 'I won't ever send you away, but you have to answer my question.'

'I...I don't know.' Toby stared at his feet while the others silently watched on. 'I thought she might have done something bad or knew who had.' Toby sighed. 'No one else was doing anything.'

'We were about to.' Harry frowned. 'You can't just run off like that. You need to stay close or someone could find out, or worst. Did you think of what might've happened if she had been someone bad?'

'No.' Toby shook his head as tears filled his eyes. 'I'm sorry!'

Harry exhaled heavily and moved forward to comfort the boy; he felt so relieved to find Toby uninjured and in safe company once again. As the small child wrapped his arms around Harry's waist and buried his face against him, a startling realization washed through Harry.

He was a complete hypocrite.

All the rules, the warnings, and precautions...they were in place to keep Toby safe and the same thing applied to Harry. How many times had he rushed ahead without knowing of the danger, determined to do something when he thought no was else was? He had disobeyed rules and placed himself in constant danger, without hesitation or consideration.

What Toby had just done, Harry had a hundred times over but in far more dire circumstances.

Harry glanced over at Remus and felt immeasurably guilty for his past actions. If he hadn't gone after the Philosopher's Stone than Dumbledore might have caught Voldemort because the stone truly had been safe. If he hadn't forced Lockhart into the Chamber of Secrets rather than tell Dumbledore what he knew, the man wouldn't be in St. Mungo's without his memory. If he hadn't sneaked out and intervened in third year than Remus would still have a job and Peter wouldn't have gotten away. If he'd shot up red sparks when Cedric was tangled in the maze, as he was supposed to or take the cup alone, than the Hufflepuff might have lived. If he'd learned Occlumency as he had been told to and not ignored the warnings Snape gave him...Sirius might have never died.

'Harry?' Remus questioned worriedly when the teenager's eyes seemed to glaze over for a moment.

'Remus, please don't tell anyone about this.' Harry stared pleadingly at him while Toby peeked over at the man. 'Marauder's Honor?'

Remus was about to insist that Dumbledore should know and he had a duty of care, however he hesitated at the mention of the honor. Obviously, Sirius had explained that to the boy. It was originally something James and Sirius had been adamant about as it was the highest promise fueled primarily by trust and loyalty.

Peter was the only one to ever break it.

To see Harry Potter extent it to him now, Remus feared he could not decline and decided to trust in the likely son of James, and godson of Sirius.

With a silent nod, Remus agreed.

An hour later and the four Gryffindors had returned to Hogwarts, still discussing the woman who had rattled Toby so dramatically that it had caused the boy to run off in such a way. The child himself wasn't with them as Harry had called for Dobby to make sure Toby changed out of his wet clothes and was looked after inside the dormitory until they returned.

'We couldn't find Toby at first, but I managed to speak with the mystery woman.' Hermione filled Harry in on the details.

'I pretended I thought I knew her from somewhere and she denied ever being in the muggle world.' Hermione frowned. 'All I got was a name...Mildred Merrengold.'

'Thanks, Hermione.' Harry sighed as they climbed the steps towards the fat lady's portrait and their common room. 'Let me know when you find out more.' He knew she would be spending some free time in the library over the next few days, trying to decipher who the woman was as Hermione was also worried about Toby; they all were.

As the four Gryffindors entered the dormitory, Harry had made an important decision involving his own behaviour and decided to set a better example for Toby. Tomorrow was a new day, but until they found out who Mildred Merrengold was...they had to be even more careful than before.

It was time to once again make some adjustments to the situation.

'Yes.' Harry nodded.

'Harry's right, it'll be better this way.' Neville added from where he sat on his bed with his Herbology textbook open on his lap although he wasn't reading it. 'We can trust them.'

Ron sighed and with a nod, he turned and left the dormitory with an anxious expression on his face. Everyone was nervous about this new change, but none more so than Toby.

'I don't wanna.' Toby frowned from where he sat under Harry's bed.

'It'll be fine, just wait.' Harry sighed.

A brief moment later, Ron returned with Dean and Seamus trailing behind him under the assumption that they were all going to sit around and eat sweets all night.

'What's going on, Harry?' Dean was the first to speak; the moment he and Seamus were fully into the room, Ron had shut and warded the door (thanks to Hermione pointing out a few useful spells for this exact purpose. She'd do it herself but she had a part to play at that moment as well, since she was up in her dorm talking to Ginny).

'We need to talk.' Ron said seriously.

Harry could see the alarm in the other boy's faces as they tried to work out what was going on so he decided to spare them the uneasy suspense. Harry left the spot on his bed where he had been sitting and stood a few feet from his other dorm mates as he began to explain.

'First, I need you to swear that what we're going to share with you will remain only between us.' Harry said. 'It's a matter of life and death.' He added that dramatic phrase again, and in a way it sort of was. Toby's life and future could very well be dictated by how these two boys react to his hidden existence.

'With everything we've been through?' Seamus cracked a nervous smile. 'You have our word.'

'Toby, you can come out now.' Harry said and the little boy emerged from under the bed, immediately running forward to stand beside Harry for safety.

'Who's the kid?' Dean asked in surprise and confusion.

'This is Toby.' Harry introduced. 'He's an orphan, like I am, and he found me through his magic during the summer. I couldn't leave him and he had nowhere else to go. So I brought him here and he's been hiding under my bed since the start of term.' He exhaled.

'I was worried at first if I could do this and I don't want to lose him. I was reluctant to even tell Ron or Hermione, but now it's unfair to keep you out of it anymore. I owe you that much; the chance to be let in on the secret since Toby kind of lives here too.'

Following his little speech, the dormitory fell silent as the other two boys absorbed the startling information they had just been told. Dean was mostly surprised that Toby had been there the entire time without either of them noticing, and Seamus was a little peeved with not being trusted with it at first. But as they each took one closer look at the six-year-old boy and the way he was clearly so attached to Harry, everything seemed fine and they were eager to be a part of the mission.

'We won't tell anyone.' Dean decided.

'Yeah, we've got your back like you've always had ours.' Seamus nodded.

'Thanks, that means a lot.' Harry exhaled with relief. Ron and Neville felt instantly calmer as well since none of them had been too sure how the others would take to the situation.

'Toby, this is Dean and Seamus.' Harry pointed them out to the smaller boy still partially hiding against him. 'And now that they know, than this entire room and the bathroom is no longer something you have to be as careful with. We'll find a way to ward the room when we're not here so you won't ever have to worry about being discovered here.'

'We'll make him an honorary Gryffindor!' Seamus declared.

'Certainly!' Dean nodded.

'But...I'm not a Gryffindor.' Toby whispered just loudly enough for them all to hear. 'I tried that hat on and it said I would make a good...I mean, I would be...' He sighed and ducked his head with embarrassment. 'Slytherin.'

He had expected the others to instantly hate him and call him mean names because even Toby he knew that no Gryffindor liked a Slytherin. However, the boy was surprised when Dean crouched in front of him and smiled.

'Don't worry, we can change that.' He smirked.

'Absolutely.' Seamus added. 'Leave it to us.'

Toby didn't mind being a Slytherin but since they were all willing to accept him anyway, his lips parted into a smile and he nodded his head at them.

'I bet you could be a great lion!' Seamus grinned at Toby, who was already becoming more comfortable around them. 'Let me hear it.'

'What?' Toby wondered and looked up at Harry for support. 'Hear what?'

'The Gryffindor roar.' Harry smirked. 'Go on, give it a go.'

'Oh, okay.' Toby blushed. 'Rroar!'

'That's a cub's call!' Dean laughed. 'Louder!'

'Let it loose!' Seamus encouraged.

'Yeah, no one will hear you!' Ron joined in while Neville smiled to himself and returned to his textbook.

'Roarrr!' Toby said but fell into a fit of giggles halfway through.

'What do you think, Seamus?' Dean played along.

'I dunno, not quite enough Gryffindor in that roar.' Seamus shook his head with an entertained smile.

'Let them have it.' Ron joked with Toby, who was still grinning from ear to ear.

'RROAR!' Toby shouted while curling his fingers and raising his hands as though he was a beast ready to pounce. 'I'm the biggest, most strongest lion and I'm gonna eat you!' He sneered.

Laughing, Toby took off running after Seamus and Ron while Dean joined Harry's side to watch them climbing over beds, stumbling on trunks and just generally having a lot of fun with the youngest member of the dormitory.

'Why does he look so much like Snape?' Dean wondered.

'I dunno.'Harry answered and didn't want to share his theory on that subject just yet, especially not to anyone other than Ron or Hermione. 'Maybe he's just unlucky?'

'Well, how are you doing it?' Dean sighed. 'Hiding a kid in Hogwarts without anyone knowing? Not even we knew and we live here with him!'

'Dobby's my house-elf now, he's been looking after Toby while we're at class and stuff.' Harry shrugged.

'That's mostly it. Although Hermione made a bit more space under the bed for him. He mostly stays there. Neville only found out a few days ago because of Trevor hopping under there. We didn't know about that until today and it was only fair we let you two in on it as well.'

'Thanks for that.' Dean nodded. 'We won't let you down.'

'I appreciate that.' Harry said as he glanced at Toby again, who was running towards him.

'Rahh! Roar!' Toby said and grabbed onto Harry. 'I've got you!'

'Oh yeah?' Harry reached out and tickled the boy, turning Toby into a bundle of laughter as the boy shrieked at being caught and tried to squirm away. And once he had wriggled free, Toby made sure everyone was included in his game; within ten minutes all five of the Gryffindor boys were running away from or after the boy.

It was as though they had no worries in the world. The Gryffindor tower was their safety net and now with the entirety of the dormitory occupants now looking out for Toby, surely nothing could possibly go wrong while they were there.

--

Several hours later and the entire room already felt different to Harry, safer even. He had just finished writing a somewhat lengthly letter to Remus to vaguely explain that Toby was living with him in secret at Hogwarts. He added details like how the boy was also an orphan with nowhere to go and that it would break both their hearts if they were ever separated.

After watching the owl leave the warmth of their dormitory to face the colder weather outside, Harry turned to notice that everyone was clearly tired and were getting ready for bed. Toby had already moved the things from under the bed into Harry's trunk. Once he had showered, dressed in his pajamas, and brushed his teeth, Toby was finally able to settle into a real bed as he prepared for sleep.

'You sure it's okay?' Toby asked for what must have been the sixth time since he had climbed into the large bed beside Harry.

'Yes, it's fine.' Harry sighed and searched for something to distract the boy with. Spotting the book Hermione had lent the boy (The Tales of Beedle the Bard), he snatched it up and handed it to Toby since he knew the boy read it most nights before he tried to sleep.

'C-could you read it to me?' Toby whispered as he rubbed his finger over the cover. 'I always wanted to know what it would be like.'

Harry nodded as he had longed for the same thing as a child; by now he had convinced himself that he had grown out of it, and that it didn't do him any good to dwell on such things that he could never have.

'Which one?' Harry glanced at the index page and checked that most of the other boys were asleep as it was an embarrassing concept to read a kid's book aloud.

'I really like “The Wizard and the Hopping Pot”, can you read that one?' Toby smiled shyly.

'Yeah, okay.' Harry nodded and watched Toby get comfortable before he began. “There once was a kindly old wizard who used his magic generously and wisely for the benefit of his neighbours. Rather than reveal the true source of his power, he pretended that his potions, charms and antidotes sprang read-made from the little cauldron he called his lucky cooking pot...”

--

When Harry had finally reach the final page involved with that story and read the last line of the tale, he glanced down at the slumbering boy who was oblivious to the silence that filled the dormitory once more.

Placing the book on his bedside table, Harry lay down under the warm sheets and stared upwards at the canopy of his bed. It had been the sort of story he'd have wanted to listen to as a child; to have someone read to him to help him sleep when things seemed a little too confusing or weird.

The tale about a kinder wizard who used his magic to help muggles and than when he died his son seemed against such, like a typical Malfoy was, and yet it was what the Wizarding world considered to be children's bedtime stories that held so much more in them than any muggle fairytale, or so Harry believed.

He had idly flipped through the book briefly before reading and had been tempted to read those stories now but fought against it as it reminded him too much that he had missed his chance; now he was too old for such traditions, and still he had no one to read to him, anyway.

His usual urge to grab his cloak and go for a wander had to be crushed the moment he'd thought of it. Harry could not leave Toby there in case the boy woke and he was gone, neither did he want to wake his roommates by summoning Dobby. And besides, Harry was meant to be endeavoring to set a better example for the boy. All his rules-breaking days had to end, or at least become dramatically minimized.

Five years of such a habit was not going to be easy to break, but any time it got hard or didn't seem worth it, Harry would look down at Toby and remember why he did it.

'I found it!' Hermione exhaled as she rushed into the dormitory the next day while the boys were fixing their ties and getting ready to head to the Great Hall for breakfast.

'What?' Ron asked and wondered if it was about Mildred Merrengold, although surely it was too soon to have found anything on that strange woman yet, even for Hermione.

'An Invisibility Charm.' Hermione smiled proudly. 'And there's a potion that's almost just as good.'

'Well, go on.' Ron frowned. 'Don't leave us in suspense.'

'It's a very old charm, not many people use it anymore because it has a very specific time span of about twelve hours. But that's fine for us. And the potion is of a notice-me-not variety, so Toby can join us for meals and no one would think anything of it.'

'Brilliant!' Ron grinned.

'Are you sure, Hermione?' Harry liked the idea of the spell but the potion seemed a bit too risky at this point.

'Of course.' Hermione rolled her eyes. 'It's flawless, well...nearly. It would take a pretty strong counter-spell to remove the potion and besides, if no one notices him than that's unlikely to happen. Unless they already know abut him.'

'Good, we can use it right now!' Ron added.

'True, I brewed this last night.' Hermione held up a vial of swirly-blue liquid. 'Mind you, it is still incredibly dangerous. Maybe we should test it first?'

'How?' Harry wondered and stared at the vial, uncertain if he liked these new options.

'How about the common room?' Ron offered.

'Wait.' Harry frowned and he didn't know where exactly his sudden thought had come from, but because he had just been thinking about what he had seen about his father in Snape's pensieve, it had him thinking. 'No one can see him then, but if they were to view their own memory later, what about that?'

Hermione pondered for a moment and realized that perhaps more research would be required. 'Gosh, you're right! I don't know.' She frowned. 'Maybe we should just use it for free time outside or something. But the charm should still work since he'll be completely invisible.'

'Like when I wear the cloak?' Toby frowned as he repeated looping his shoelaces like Harry had taught him but was still unable to make them last very long. Frustrated, he waited for Harry to notice his lack of properly tied shoes and fixed them.

'Yes.' Hermione nodded. 'But the charm will be much easier for you and more reliable.'

'Wicked.' Toby grinned up at Harry. 'May I?'

A part of Harry wanted to say “no”, and keep Toby in the dormitory for any time he wasn't with Dobby. He knew it was unfair and without these new arrangements than the boy may as well be a prisoner.

'You still have to have your lessons with Dobby.' Harry negotiated. 'So you can come to a few classes with me and maybe wander around in free time if we're not studying. People will notice the food in the Great Hall disappearing; I don't want to do this more than we should.'

'Okay.' Toby sighed, slightly disappointed, but at least he was still gaining even more freedom than before.

'You have Herbology first today, can I come to that one?' The boy asked eagerly, knowing that most of what was learned in that class contributed to making potions in some way.

Harry glanced around at his friends and wondered how bad it could possibly be; it wasn't as though Snape would be there and it was outside, not in a confined classroom right under a teacher's nose. And Sprout wasn't likely to be as much as a challenge as perhaps McGonagall could be.

'Yeah, alright.' Harry permitted. 'Have Dobby bring you breakfast. We'll come and get you once we're done.' He sighed and had a sinking feeling of regret already. He had also permitted Toby to summon Dobby whenever he needed in case he wasn't there or something had happened. The elf had been brought to tears with joy at this news, having become almost as fond of Toby as he was of Harry.

'Thanks, Harry.' Toby grinned at him.

'Just promise to behave and it'll be fine.' Harry sighed again as he watched Hermione place the charm on the boy, setting the plans for the next twelve hours.

--

They left Toby in the dormitory and headed out of their house common room to make their way down the stairs and towards the Great Hall.

'Drats!' Harry hissed when he almost stumbled over his loose shoelace several meters from their destination. He spent all of his shoe-tying skills on Toby's that he often neglected his own.

'I'll meet you there.' He huffed and bent to tie it again. His friends shrugged and moved to enter the hall and planned to save him a seat at the Gryffindor table.

Harry stood and glanced around, having had the oddest feeling that he was being watched, apart from the obvious fact that at least ten portraits had their eyes on him.

Thinking it was nothing, he turned back towards the large doors when suddenly someone left the Great Hall and strode purposefully towards the stairs. Hesitating, the Slytherin stopped and stared at Harry with a mixture of surprise and resentment.

'Potter.' He snarled.

'Malfoy.' Harry returned. 'What are doing here? Isn't your snake den in the dungeons?'

'What's it to you?' Draco scowled. 'Maybe I'd like to be early to my classes, unlike you.'

'Yeah, right.' Harry scoffed. 'What are you up to, Malfoy? Bullying first years not enough for you anymore?'

'Sod off, Potter.' Draco almost sounded tired when he said that, which had caught Harry a little off guard.

'You stay out of my business and I'll stay out of yours.' He shoved past the Gryffindor and headed towards the stairs leading to the second floor. And yet there had been a particular tone in the way he'd said his parting words that worried Harry, almost as though...

Harry swallowed and turned to watch the disappearing form of his Slytherin rival, praying to anyone he could think of that Malfoy had no idea about Toby. He couldn't help but panic, with the way he'd suggested they stay out of each others business. And too many people knew about the situation already, had one of them slipped up? Or was Harry simply being too paranoid?

Shaking his head, Harry realized that he was indeed over-reacting because there was no doubt in his mind that if Draco knew the little secret, he'd simply have told Professor Snape right away.

Entering the Great Hall, Harry not longer felt as hungry as he had several minutes ago. He sank into the space beside Dean and turned to glance at the staff's table, almost expecting to see Snape glaring back at him with a promise of ruining all of his carefully laid plans involving Toby.

Instead, the man wasn't even in sight.

Something was going on and despite his new decision to abide by the rules, Harry could not let his suspicion slip away. An idea formed in his head and Harry instantly stood from the table without touching so much of a crumb of food.

'Ron, if I'm not back in time for Herbology than tell Professor Sprout I was feeling sick and take Toby there with Dobby.' He hushed quickly.

'Harry!' Hermione hissed and leaned over the table. 'You can't miss a class!'

'I won't, it's...just in case.' Harry nodded even though it tasted of a lie; there was very little time until their lesson, but if he was likely to miss his class session...than so was Draco.

'Trust me, please.' And with that Harry departed the hall and headed straight for the second floor.

The second floor corridor was darker than Harry remembered, yet perhaps that was his own subconscious warning him of the possible danger involved with his hasty decision. Never before during one of his rushed plans had Harry been so acutely aware that breaking the rules often led to worser situations than what he'd started with. But he had to know what Draco was up to, he had to make sure that it wasn't something bad, and he forced himself to swallow the guilt he now felt towards once again demonstrating his reckless disregard for the rules (as Snape would call it).

Harry marched onwards in search of Draco Malfoy while trying to clear his head of numerous concerns and mild hysterics.

After many minutes of nothingness, he was angered by the fact that either Draco was concealed in one of the rooms he'd passed by or else the Slytherin was no longer on the second floor. He'd never actually seen Draco entering that specific floor, either, merely heading in that general direction. His plan was suddenly seeming as foolish as it should have from the beginning.

Just as he was about to turn and rejoin his friends, Harry heard the unmistakable sound of shoe against stone. Thinking it was Draco, he ducked behind a marble pillar and anxiously waited to see if he heard anything else or if someone came into view. When the shadows and noises approached, Harry was quick to realize that it wasn't Draco he had heard, but instead those who were almost close enough to be; Crabbe and Goyle.

Craning his neck to see if Draco's bodyguards were entering a nearby room, Harry had misjudged their distance and was spotted. Instantly reaching for his wand, he braced himself for what was surely going to happen next.

'Look, it's Potter!' Crabbe pointed and left Harry no choice other than to vacant his hiding spot and face them.

'Bloody Gryffindor.' Goyle growled.

'Let's get him!' Crabbe advanced towards Harry - who considered the larger boy to be too stupid to be able to use his wand anyway - with his fists clenched. Goyle was doing the same and with their size and separation, Harry vaguely wondered if he could use his created spell, Expellicorpus, against them enough to get away. His plans were dashed by the arrival of three seventh years; one boy was a Slytherin and the other two were Ravenclaws, judging by their uniforms.

'Well, well...what do we have here?' The largest one smirked at Harry, who recognized him from a brief run-in during fourth year. This Slytherin was brutal, impossibly strong, and was certainly no stranger to the Dark Arts. What further unsettled Harry, was that this boy had always held a grudge against him, not just for the usual reasons but because Harry had been named a champion during the TriWizard tournament when he himself hadn't; regardless of the fact that he too had been underage at the time. And Jim Burley did not get over grudges, ever.

Harry did not recognized the two Ravenclaw boys that joined the group and added to the fact that he was completely outnumbered. Since they appeared to be friends of Jim, the lone Gryffindor knew they could only further complicate the situation.

This was exactly why Harry needed to start listening to the rules he was given.

It was hopeless; the five smirking, knuckle-cracking offenders had him backed into a corner with three wands pointed at him. Naturally, Harry intended to defend himself and fought to remember any spells that may come in handy, but none would be able to deal with all of them. What were they even doing on the second floor? Where had Draco gone if he wasn't here with them? Or was the worst yet to come if the blonde did finally venture back along this corridor and join the others?

The first punch came towards Harry's face before he had time to dodge it; not even Dudley's “Harry Hunting” game with his bully friends could have prepared him for this...at least then he'd had enough space to run away. And now he was stuck, like a grain of salt under the shoe of a goblin; if he didn't get away soon, he feared he would disappear and there would be nothing he could do about it.

'Sod off!' Harry snapped at them as he winced from the impact of Crabbe's punch to his cheek, only having just saved his nose from the fist because of his quick movement.

'You think you're so invincible, now?' Jim sneered angrily. 'You think someone's going to run in and save precious Potter this time? You leech! Taking all the glory for yourself.'

'I don't want it!' Harry knew it was fruitless to try and convince them but it was the only weapon he had left, considering that one of the Ravenclaws had just disarmed him. Harry felt truly powerless without his wand.

'You think you're so special?' Jim growled as he acted as the ringleader, making hand gestures for Crabbe or Goyle to punch Harry, either in the gut or face. 'Perfect orphan Potter.' He mocked. 'Well, your days are numbered. Mark my words...the Dark Lord will put you down like the pig you are.'

Harry could not respond to what was obviously an aspiring Death Eater, as one of the Ravenclaws had just kicked him in a particularly sensitive area of his anatomy, sending him to his knees.

'See, he's bowing to us!' One laughed. And then it was Jim's turn...and his fists felt to be made of stone, and his shoes to be small buildings as each one came crushing down against Harry's left wrist.

Crying out in pain and helplessness, Harry struggled to locate his wand or see past the blood that dripped in his face from his cut eyebrow. He didn't know why his will to fight back was so slim, normally his survival instincts kicked in and he was lucky enough to find a way out of any situation. Harry could take on Lord Voldemort but not a few rough bullies?

They were right then...he was nothing special.

'Shh!' One boy (Harry had given up trying to tell which was which), hushed the others and they all froze as they darted their gazes towards the far end of the corridor in which they had arrived from not twenty minutes ago. Had it really been minutes? To Harry, it felt like hours.

'Someone's coming.'

'Breathe a word of this, Potter, and your mudblood friend is next.' Jim hissed to him as he straighted and followed the others in the direction of the moving staircases at the opposite end of the corridor.

Harry, gasping and grunting from pain and humiliation, slowly edged himself towards his wand and grasped it tightly as though it was his lifeline. He had little strength to fight whoever was coming his way and doubted he could even manage to upright himself into standing position if he had to. Harry did all he could and crawled into a corner formed by a lions statue and the cool, stone wall.

His heart only sank further when so far he could see that the person who had caused the others to scatter was yet another Slytherin. Harry stared at the floor, watching his own blood slowly seeped onto the stone floor and coloured it, before he forced himself to glare upright at his new attacker.

An alarmed Draco Malfoy stared back at him.

'Who did this?' Draco asked as though he had come across anyone other than a Gryffindor in which he loathed.

'Like you don't know.' Harry spat and was shortly pleased to notice that he still had enough strength in which to ensure his ability to speak. 'You sent them, didn't you? Crabbe, Goyle, and Burley.'

'Burley?' Draco repeated and even he seemed rather annoyed by this. He glanced around at the corridor they were in before he slowly drifted his gaze across Harry, taking in the sight of the heavily bleeding eyebrow the most, as well as the way Harry clutched to both his wand and left wrist with his right hand.

And than Draco did the most unusual thing that could ever be considered of him; he extended a hand towards Harry in the same manner in which he had in first year when he'd offered his friendship.

'Well?' Draco scowled. 'Take it!' He saw the obvious expression of distrust and suspicion in his rival's gaze, which only caused him to sigh heavily.

'Look, either you take a chance here and hope I don't finish you off, or you sit here and bleed to death, praying they don't come back.'

When he put it like that, suddenly Harry felt an odd sense of gratitude towards his supposed rescuer. Draco Malfoy or not, there was no way he wanted to sit around until someone found him again. How long would it take? Hours? Who would find him first? Friend or...foe?

With a painful motion, he grasped Draco's hand with his uninjured one and allowed the Slytherin boy to pull him upright. He was shaky at first but found that the strength in his legs was beginning to return.

'Can you walk as far as the hospital wing?' Draco jerked his hand away from Harry and wiped it on his robes as though it was tainted.

'Why are you doing this?' Harry asked instead. He didn't want to answer the question because he was far too ashamed to let his rival know that there was no way he could even make it to the end of the corridor without crashing into a bloody heap on the floor.

'Either you shut up and let me figure this out or I leave you here to rot.' Draco warned and made it clear that questioning his motives was not the best way for Harry to reach the hospital wing alive. Or even at all.

Harry watched his apparent enemy very closely as the Slytherin reached into a pocket and extracted a small locket with a golden chain. It was very ancient-looking and had an odd emblem on the front involving a snake's head that crossed over a wand, and the faint imprint of a cauldron around them, as those the snake and wand were inside it. Draco turned the object over in his hand three times and than returned it into the depths of his robes.

'What was that for?' Harry narrowed his eyes with outright caution.

'Shut up!' Draco snapped in accordance to his previous warning. 'I have no issue with just leaving you here, Potter.' He spat as his gaze moved around each end of the corridor, either waiting for something or keeping a lookout in case the attackers returned. The blonde boy almost looked nervous about it too.

'Than why don't you?' Harry scowled back.

He never received an answer when there was the swishing of familiar black robes at the end of the corridor. Not bothering to suppress a groan, Harry was convinced that he was a Slytherin magnet, and today was one of those days where he was sure that all of his good luck had finally run out.

'Mr Malfoy.' Severus halted directly in front of the boys once he had established that firstly, Draco wasn't the injured one, and secondly, his godson had used his “for emergencies only”, locket to...save Potter?

'Mr Potter.' He scowled at the danger-prone Gryffindor. 'What trouble have you apparently stumbled across this time? A troll? Three-headed-dog, perhaps? Dementors? Deranged criminals? I daresay you're lucky to be alive.' Severus sneered as though the sight of the badly bruised, bleeding, and highly unstable teenager did not bother him even the slightest.

It was all a front, however, because his insides had turned to black ice at the mere sight of the unluckiest Gryffindor to ever walk the Earth. The boy born with Lily's eyes and yet who demonstrated the amazing ability to find more trouble in one month than an auror did all year. Although, Severus still wasn't convinced that most of it was due to the boy's obvious lack of obedience and surely most of the trouble was created rather than found, just like James.

'No, sir.' Draco surprised both Severus and Harry by coming to the other boy's defense. 'It was Burley.' He whispered and lowered his gaze to the floor as though to admit this fact was something to be troubled by.

Harry glanced through what little space he could see that wasn't his sweaty hair or drying blood, to notice that both Snape and Malfoy seemed unsettled by Jim Burley. Was the big bully so terrible that his fellow house mate would be wary of him, or even more astonishingly...his own Head of House?

Harry didn't think Snape was scared of anything, yet this way he almost seemed...human.

'Come, Potter.' Snape instructed.

'I'd rather not.' Harry couldn't stop the statement that passed over his lips in his usual defiant tone, because he did not trust going anywhere with a single Slytherin who for the last five years up until this point had loathed him, belittled him, mocked his friends, and shown no signs at all that they would feel even the slightest of sympathy if Voldemort were to show up and torture him to death. Or worst yet, one of them were probably going to be the reason for Voldemort finding him, anyway.

Snarling at the Gryffindor's attitude and inability to follow a simply order, Severus grasped the boy by his arm and yanked him along.

'I believe you have classes, Mr Malfoy.' He said over his shoulder. 'I suggest you fulfill your requirements as a student and be on your way.'

'Yes, sir.' Draco sighed and turned to leave in the opposite direction.

'Ouch!' Harry grimaced as Snape's grip was rather painful. His footing was poor and yet every time he felt ready to collapse onto the hard ground below and never move again, a sensation of warmth spread through his muscles that somehow enabled him to gather just enough strength to remain on his feet.

Glancing at Snape's dark form, Harry wondered if some sort of spell had been placed on him to ensure this, or if it was just his own determination to not look any weaker in front of Snape than he already was.

With Snape's long strides, they reached the hospital wing a short moment later, where Harry was unceremoniously shoved towards the nearest bed. The teenager said nothing in protest and merely marveled in the softness of the sheets and the relatively promising security of the Hospital Wing.

'Severus!' Poppy gasped as she left her office and stared at the state of Harry. 'What happened this time?'

'Burley.' Severus said simply. With a scowl of understanding and irritation, Poppy immediately began to magically scan the boy to determine a full assessment of his current injuries.

'It's not so bad.' Harry mumbled from where he was sprawled out on the bed, staring towards the madam that was fussing over him.

'Barely hurts.' He winced.

'Not so bad?' Poppy raised her voice in a controlled outrage. 'Potter, your wrist is broken!'

Severus raised an eyebrow at the teenager that had given no indicated that he was in such a serious state that the mending of bones would be required. Even so, the man remained silent from where he stood a short distance away.

'Oh.' Was all Harry was able to say as he wasn't sure how he was supposed to react.

Having Snape so close was weird enough, but with the way Draco had helped him earlier? His head was confused and his body longed for rest so it could heal. It made his mind foggy and any pain he was probably meant to be feeling was simply blacked out.

Poppy seemed to agree with his desire for rest, because she cast numerous healing spells on the boy's wrist and ribs before she handed Harry several potions; the last one in which made him very drowsy.

'The headmaster ought to expel that beast!' Poppy scowled as she muttered about Burley, mistakenly thinking that Harry was already asleep.

'First Mr Malfoy and now Mr Potter? This has to stop, Severus.'

'I shall certainly see to it that after tonight, Burley will not evade any further punishment for his crimes.' Severus scowled deeply. The seventh year had been getting increasingly hostile for the past few years but the moment he'd injured his godson and Harry in a single week...no more; Burley had seen the last of Hogwarts and Severus would make sure of it.

'How has he gotten away with so much up to this point?' Poppy shook her head with visible anger and disgust.

'Clever alibis.' Severus answered although that wasn't at all true. The fact that Burley's father was a lead Death Eater had more to do with it than anything. Expelling the boy would impact his spying job but Severus refused to stand by any longer and let Burley do as he pleased. Constant insults and rough shoving had been mostly harmless enough, but now the arrogant boy had gone too far.

Poppy, rushing off to floo-call Dumbledore, had left Severus alone with the almost-slumbering Harry.

Frowning at the boy, Severus prepared to leave as he had no other reason to remain behind; Dumbledore already had his report following a similar incident several days ago, and Poppy could always relay what he'd said, if need be. Yet the man hesitated when he realized that the teenager was mumbling something under his breath.

''Tis my old donkey, sir.' Harry uttered although it sounded strained as he had almost slipped entirely into a restful slumber. 'Lost, she is, or stolen, and without her I cannot take my wares to market, and my family will go hungry tonight.'

'Idiotic Gryffindor.' Severus rolled his eyes and left the hospital wing, convinced that Potter was better off in Poppy's care now and would soon be attended to by Albus.

--

And yet as he reached his quarters, Severus continued to ponder on the odd phrase Potter had muttered. It wasn't unusual for such rambling to occur, given the potion the boy had taken, but there was something strangely familiar about those words. Severus could not recall where he had heard it before, although it had to have come from his childhood, which was not a time in his life in which the wizard wished to explore.

Surely it had been something his mother had told him. Realizing that he would not rest until he'd figured it out, Severus stormed to his fireplace and floo'ed to the library.

Ignoring the startled reactions of the small group of students left in the grand room who didn't have classes, Severus sought out the librarian.

'Severus, is there something I can do for you?' Irma approached him with a curious yet casual tone.

'Perhaps.' Severus replied as he snatched a quill from her desk and wrote down what he had heard Potter say. He did not dare to repeat it; handing over the parchment with the phrase scribbled upon it seemed to work far more efficiently with his dignity.

The moment Severus started speaking of lost donkeys and hungry families was the day he began to plan his retirement.

Irma glanced over at the parchment and frowned at him as though she had been given the instructions to the most simplest variety of potion; she had expected him to know the answer right away. Nevertheless, she sighed and summoned a book from one of the shelves towards the back of the library.

Severus should have stayed in his quarters. He glared down at the offending book in front of him and was dismayed to realize that it was a copy of The Tales of Beedle the Bard.

On his birthday every year until he went to Hogwarts, his mother had read him a story from this book. He never forgot a single one he'd heard, having memorized it in effort to preserve that moment in which he could convince himself that he was normal, that he belonged to a family who loved him, and that those reading session didn't only occur because his father was always away on that day.

'The Wizard and the Hopping Pot.' Irma pointed to the phrase in that particular story in which matched what he'd heard from Harry.

'My sixth birthday.' Severus whispered; he hated that story. It contained too many phrases he had been used to hearing daily, such as “disgusting object”, “I am hungry now!”, “be still! Be silent!”, and “begone!”. But Harry was not raised in the magical world and had lost Lily at a very young age, how would the teenager know this story so well that he would mutter it in his sleep?

Severus shoved the book away and turned to depart the library by foot, angry at himself for even caring. So what if the brat had read a children's book and could remember one particular section? What concern was it to him? Severus didn't even know why he had to waste his time figuring out such an insignificant thing when he should be tracking down Burley.

Deep down Severus knew why.

Because when he'd heard Harry say it, it had triggered something inside him...a memory Severus wished to forever forget. While he had hated that story and longed to rip out its pages to permanently erase it from his book...Lily had rather enjoyed it. She'd told him in fifth year, two weeks before the end in their friendship, that all Slytherins should read it and learn from it because magic could do so much good if blood never mattered.

When they'd parted their ways, he'd found a page torn from her book, resting on his doorstep over the summer. She had highlighted that phrase about the donkey and underlined it.

In the corner of the page she had written; “What if this had been you?”

To this day Severus could not figure out what she'd meant by that. The cauldron's ability to cure yet was not used for such? The poor, hungry family where a father and son had so very different views? The sour wizard unwilling to assist anyone because he believe them to be unworthy?

Or a bitter man whose only companion was his cauldron?

It wasn't until lunch-time that Madam Pomfrey finally allowed Harry to leave the hospital wing. And she only did it because he constantly argued that he was fine and really needed to get back his studying.

It was unusual and she suspected that there was more to the boy's frantic desire to leave, but seeing that he was sufficiently healed and his wrist had been set right (and he'd had the chance to explain to Dumbledore roughly what had happened with Burley), she had decided to let the boy go before he became hysterical.

With gush of relief, Harry hurried from the hospital wing and headed to the Great Hall. He saw Draco sitting amongst the Slytherins (his attackers didn't appear to be there, of which Harry was grateful), but the blonde never looked over at him and merely continued to stare at his empty plate.

Harry had the urge to go over there and thank him for his assistance, however odd and seemingly out-of-character it had been, yet the moment passed and the Gryffindor convinced himself that Malfoy must have had other motives to do so that he was yet to figure out.

'Harry!' Hermione exclaimed when he moved to join them. 'Where have you been?' She sounded quite livid, which was to be expected since had disappeared for most of the morning and hadn't shown up for Herbology.

'I was sick.' He shrugged, which had been the excuse he'd told them to give Professor Sprout if he hadn't made it to class. He also felt uncomfortable with talking about what had happened earlier and tried to change to topic.

'Where's Toby?'

'With Dobby in the dormitory.' Ron answered. 'He went nutters when you didn't show up.'

'Other than that, everything went according to plan.' Hermione said importantly, referring to the spell the had used to sneak Toby into their Herbology class that morning.

'He had a lot of fun helping us catch those pod things.' Ron smirked with amusement. 'Sprout didn't even notice! I don't think anyone did, really. You should've seen him, mate...he loved it!'

'Right, well...I better go check on him.' Harry rose and grabbed an apple from a fruit basket to eat along the way.

He walked faster than usual as he didn't want to be the only one left in a corridor and was also determined to see if Toby was okay. Pushing open the door to his dormitory, he barely had time to register that he wasn't alone before Toby had crushed against him for a hug.

'Where were you?' Toby buried his face against Harry's robes. 'You weren't there an-an Miss Hermione didn't know where you were an-I-I thought you forgot about me.' He sniffled.

'I'm sorry.' Harry sighed and returned the boy's hug, only thankful that Toby hadn't been with him when he'd followed Draco. But than again, if Toby had been there than he would never had followed the Slytherin to begin with.

'Don't worry, that won't ever happen again.' Harry said strongly. When they had gone to Hogsmeade, he'd decided upon following the rules, and yet when he'd broken them today it really sank in just how important they could be.

Enough was enough, Harry was never making that mistake again; he didn't care if it was expected of him to roam the castle at night, get into duels, or involve himself in situations that should be too much for him to handle...Harry was through with it. He could not afford to risk it, with Toby to look after and set an example for.

His rule-breaking days were over and Harry didn't care what he had to give up to make sure of it. As long as Toby was safe...nothing else mattered anymore.

'Harry?' Toby's soft voice trailed to his ears the moment he had pulled his Gryffindor jumper over his head.

'Yeah?' Harry turned towards the boy as he fussed with his robes. Toby sighed and sat upright as he stared at his guardian with a serious expression.

'When we were in Hogsmade and Snape found us, I told him you were Harry Potter and that you stopped You-Know-Who.' Toby reminded him.

'It's Hogsmeade, and yeah...so?' Harry frowned.

'Who is You-Know-Who? I heard people talking, he sounds really bad and scary, but you stopped him when you were a baby.' Toby was clearly confused. 'Is that why everyone stares at you lots?'

Sighing, Harry moved to sit on the edge of the bed and explain it to the boy; he had feared this moment would come and yet he didn't want to avoid it, just like when he had been eleven and Hagrid had told him when he'd asked. It had scared him and was a lot to take in at once, but ultimately Harry was thankful that someone had answered his questions then rather than him having to hear it from a book or the hushed whispers that frequently spread through the school.

'Some people don't like to say his name because they're scared of him, that's why they call him You Know Who instead, or He Who Must No Be Named.' Harry said softly while Toby watched him intently.

 'He's a bad wizard named Voldemort. He convinced other bad people to join him and called those followers his Death Eaters. Voldemort came to my house when I was a baby and tried to kill me after he'd killed my parents.' He remembered sadly while Toby gasped with horror.

'How did you stop him?' The boy gulped.

'I didn't.' Harry answered. 'My mother did; she sacrificed herself for me when she refused to stand aside...that's how I got this.' He moved his hair away from his forehead to reveal his lightning bolt scar.

'It's from when Voldemort tried to kill me but couldn't because of my mother's protection.'

'Wow, your mum sounds really brave.' Toby lowered his eyes to the sheets that were still covering him.

'Do you know anything about your parents?' Harry wondered. He had actually been rather intrigued by the boy's history but had refused to believe that Toby might have a future elsewhere that was a consequence of his past.

'No.' Toby shook his head and fixated his gaze on a fold of the blanket nearest his right hand. 'I only know my mum is dead too, that's why I went to the orphanage when I was a baby.'

'I'm sorry.' Harry said sympathetically. 'I never knew my parents either.'

Toby smiled a little and looked up at Harry. 'C-can we pretend? That we're brothers?' He bit his lip anxiously. 'I want to pretend that your mother is mine too, cuz she sounds like a really nice mother but mine was bad.'

Harry didn't ask how Toby knew his mother had been bad but a chilling sensation filled him as he wanted to shout that Lily was his mother and no one else's. He didn't want to share her at all and it was wrong for Toby to think he could just claim her like that. Plus, the mentioned situation would be impossible, since she died long before Toby had even been born.

And yet, the dejected and lonely look on the little boy's face crushed those foul thoughts of selfishness. Harry remembered having similar longings with Ron's mum back in second year, although in a distant less-noticed way, he probably still did.

'Yeah, okay.' Harry nodded. 'She's our mother, but our dads are different. Yours might still be out there.'He thought of Snape and refused to choose that man over James, his father.

'What was her name?' Toby wondered after he'd nodded his head in agreement.

'Lily.' Harry smiled.

'Like the flower?'

'Yeah.' Harry nodded. Inspired, he turned to reach for his photo album and handed it to Toby. 'Have a look.'

Toby took the album into his hands carefully as though it was made of a soft clay that could mold and change with his touch. He flipped it open and smiled wistfully at the laughing woman in the pictures.

'Thanks, Harry.' He whispered.

'Anytime.' The Gryffindor sighed and stood as he finished getting ready for the day. There was a long moment of silence as Toby looked through the album and smiled at the images he saw there while Harry watched him.

Once he was done, Toby placed it back where it belonged and watched the Gryffindor he now regarded as his older brother. They had no idea that their brotherly pretending was ridden with truth.

'What was she like...Lily?' Toby asked. 'I mean, mum.' He frowned at the weirdness of calling anyone that.

'I know she was a good person. She was really good in Charms and Potions.' Harry swallowed and avoided looking at the younger boy. 'She was in Gryffindor, like my dad too. But...I really don't know that much about her.'

'I bet she had lots of friends.' Toby mused. 'And who was that wizard at Hogsmade with us? You said he was Remus Lupin, but who is he?'

'He used to be the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher here when I was in third year.' Harry joined Toby on the bed again, not sure what else to do until it was time to head down for breakfast.

'He was one of my dads best friends, and he was close friends with mum too.'

'Can he tell you what mum was like?' Toby couldn't see why Remus hadn't told Harry lots about Lily if they had been friends.

'He did, a bit. But he's really busy.' Harry didn't say that Remus knew a lot more about his father than his mother and even he preferred to talk about the great James Potter, just as Sirius had.

'Maybe there's someone else you can ask?' Toby shrugged. 'Do you know anyone else who was at Hogwarts with mum?'

Harry frowned a little at how easily Toby could call a woman he didn't even know that, but than again how much different were they in that sense? Harry knew what his mother looked like, and little bits of her personality, but he didn't really know her any more than Toby did.

He had asked the Marauders but they were closer with James, he had asked other professors but they focused mainly on her honorable sacrifice, and deep down Harry had a feeling that they were only telling him the glorifying things...the aspects of his mother that would plant a wonderful picture of a woman in his mind. He didn't want that. Harry wanted the truth; he wanted to know what his mother had really been like as a person, a student, and a friend.

'You said Snape and your dad didn't like each other.' Toby pointed out. 'Wouldn't Snape know mum too then?'

Harry glanced at Toby with amusement as everything was so much simpler to a six-year-old, and yet the boy had a point. Snape hadn't said anything nice about his father, and he'd called his mother a mudblood in a memory Harry had seen...but the sad fact of Harry's life was, that no matter what, Snape had never really lied to him. If anything, he could rely on the man for the cold, hard facts.

He wouldn't have to worry about Snape sugar-coating everything because the man didn't care about Harry's feelings or what he would assume about anything...he merely told the truth and if Harry didn't like it than that wasn't Snape's problem.

Yes, Snape might be able to give him a tad more reliable information. But the real issue was...would he even bother? Lily was his mother, and Harry felt that nothing could possibly get any worst between himself and Snape...therefore it was worth a try to ask.

'Ah-choo!' Toby's sneeze brought Harry's mind out of its musing.

He led the boy out of bed to get him dressed and groomed for the day (he didn't really bother with the boy's hair but Toby was adamant to try and make it behave).

'Ah-choo!' Toby rubbed his nose and scowled.

'Bless you.' Harry replied but paused when he noticed the paleness of Toby's face and the light shiver that coursed through the boy's small form. It may be cold outside but in the dormitory a magical heater in the center of the room was keeping everything snugly warm.

'Toby, stand still.' Harry reached out his palm and placed it over the boy's forehead, feeling how heated it was against his skin.

'I'm not very hungry, can I skip breakfast today?' Toby groaned as he placed a hand on his stomach.

'I think you're sick.' Harry worried as he lifted the boy back onto the bed.

'Does that mean I can skip breakfast?' Toby asked sleepily as he lay down under the covers and rubbed a hand over his face.

'Dobby!' Harry called out for the house-else instead of answering the child.

'What's going on?' Dean groaned as he was awoken by the call.

'I'm trying to sleep here.' Seamus yawned while Ron continued to snore and Neville rolled over to get back to sleep.

'Toby's sick.' Harry answered and while Seamus slumped back under his covers, Dean yawned heavily and got out of bed.

Pop!

'Yes Master Harry Potter, sir?' Dobby bowed before him. 'Is you needing Dobby to look after young Toby?'

'He's not feeling well.' Harry glanced at the paling boy. 'I don't know what to do.' He scowled at the mental image of the disgusted Dursleys; whenever he had been sick as a child they merely locked him in his cupboard until he recovered.

'Dobby is getting young Toby some soup.' The elf nodded and popped away again.

'I don't suppose we can take him to Madam Pomfrey?' Dean sighed as he looked down at the boy. 'I know more about muggle medicine than the magical kind, but I do think there are some potions that could help.'

'Thanks, Dean.' Harry nodded and searched through his trunk for his potions textbook. It would take far too long to search through every chapter for a potion that might be of assistance and he wasn't sure if he trusted his brewing skills quite that much yet. And besides, wasn't there some extra measures that had to be performed when brewing in order for it to be suitable for a young child rather than an older person? 

Harry couldn't leave Toby like this.

He glanced cautiously at Dean, who was rummaging through his own trunk for some socks, and hesitantly reached behind some sweaters for a pile of parchment and a quill. His fingers brushed against a softer kind and instantly he grasped it; he had completely forgotten about Snape's latest letter.

Harry looked over at Dobby, who was helping Toby sit up to eat some soup, and his other house mates who were dragging themselves out of bed to get ready for breakfast. Memorizing the question Snape had given him, Harry stood and decided that he would need Hermione.

And she wasn't hard to find. He had expected her to be sitting in the common room with a book and with a rush of relief, he was right.

'You're up early.' Hermione noticed as she glanced over her Charms textbook at him. 'What is it?' She spotted the concerned expression on her friend's face.

'He's sick.' Harry knew she would understand exactly who he was referring to.

Hermione was on her feet immediately and followed him back into the dormitory, passing Seamus and Neville on the way as they headed out to breakfast.

'What are the symptoms?' Hermione asked. She was no mediwitch or doctor, but seeing as neither of the other boys knew all that much about potions and how suitable they may be for young children...she was the best they had.

'Fever, loss of appetite, and sneezing.' Harry recited professionally while his insides squirmed with worry. What if it was something serious? Was taking him to Madam Pomfrey really worth the other risks? But if it was something really bad...would they even have a choice?

'Hm, well the soup seems to be a good idea for now.' Hermione noticed the mostly-empty bowl on the boy's lap. 'How are you feeling, Toby?'

'Like a Potions ingredient.' Toby grumbled, only mildly struggling with the big word he had just recently learned.

'Hermione, I need to ask you something.' Harry said carefully.

'What is it, Harry?' She turned towards him.

'Well uh, I need help with a question. It's not for school but it's been bugging me.' He shrugged and tried to make it seem like no big deal.

'Well, say there's a wizard who lives in...Eastern, no Western, Scotland.' He wished could just get out Snape's letter and read it from there or show her but it was too evidential.

'If he died of some really bad case of poisoning because he was exposed to an unknown toxin, what could have killed him? I mean, he was working on a potion that gets rid of blood clots or something, but some people think there are some main plans that could have caused his death.'

'Who are you talking about?' Hermione frowned.

'No one. It's just a scenario.' Harry wondered if he should tell her more details or if what he'd said was enough. 'What do you think?'

'Well, if he lived in Western Scotland than that leaves out the highly toxic Toadbush plant since it's only found in the North.' She thought upon the intellectual challenge, unable to resist.

'An anti-blood-clot potion does often have ground jiggernut in it, which some may be allergic to. But otherwise it could be any of the nine main toxic plants in the area.' She answered. 'Unless he mixed something. There are so many variables!' Hermione stressed as though she was being graded on it.

'Thanks, that should work.' Harry hastily grabbed a piece spare of parchment and took down notes.

'What's it for?' She asked curiously.

'Just something I was asked, it's nothing.' He dismissed. 'I just wanted to know the answer.'

'Oh, okay.' She didn't seem entirely convinced by dropped the subject as she returned her full attention to Toby.

So far all Hermione had been able to establish was that whatever was making Toby sick wasn't likely to be terribly serious or something in which could end very, very badly. Of that, everyone was relieved.

--

Twenty minutes later and Toby was resting under the watchful eyes of Dobby. Hermione, Ron and Harry rushed to breakfast and ate as quickly as they could before they headed to their Transfiguration class.

Harry's mind kept drifting back to the pale little boy suffering in the Gryffindor tower and the man that might be able to help. He took nearly no notes that lesson and only just managed to remember the incantation they were to be using, having asked Hermione to repeat it to him at least twice. It didn't seem to bother her though, as Ron had done the same thing.

'Mr Potter!' McGonagall barked at him halfway through the lesson when his turtle went from green to purple multiple times.

'Sorry.' He tried to focus on turning it into a kettle but with little success; it was meant to be done non-verbally and his mind simply wasn't in it.

When classes had ended for the day, Harry split from his friends instead of going to dinner and headed straight to the library.

Passing Madam Pince (who still gave him a very odd expression whenever she watched him and Harry was yet to understand why), he sat at one of the tables in the back and hoped to remain isolated for at least a full ten minutes. Pulling out Snape's letter from his bag, he glanced down at the notes he had made that morning, only to notice that he had added several more reminders and facts to it over the course of the day.

With a heavy sigh, Harry rose from his seat and perused the shelves nearby where his gaze scanned over the ones partaking to Western poisons. After a little bit of research, Harry was getting quite annoyed with Snape. The question had to be some sort of trick because there were far too many possible answers in which to give.

Huffing with irritation and not wanting to write a ten-foot essay on the subject (maybe that had been Snape's plan?), he was nearly ready to give up. Harry yanked the letter towards himself again and glared down at it, convinced that there was some hidden meaning in the question itself. Surely the man would know that there was too much to be considered in order to work out what had killed that wizard?

Unless he wanted Harry to fail. Which, had the man known who was writing to him, Harry found that to be entirely possible.

Harry eyed the letter yet again and reviewed it with a quizzical frown. Maybe he was thinking too much like Hermione? Snape was a sneaky Slytherin and wouldn't want to be too obvious. Plus, he had agreed to answer Toby's questions so that Harry didn't have to do all of this frustrating research, so why give Harry a question that would achieve that? Payback? Manipulated irony? Or is Snape searching for a different answer than a solution to the question? The man had wanted a satisfying answer, not a correct one!

Inspired, Harry clutched his black-inked quill and began to write.

Harry was getting tired of carefully watching everything he said and trying to speak in proper, respected English.

Sighing, he read over it to make sure there were no clues to who he was in it and than spelled the handwriting. He folded it and decided to go to the owlery right away to post it. Maybe he would still be able to get back to the Great Hall in time for dinner?

'Sorry!' Harry said quickly when he turned a corner of shelves and bumped into someone.

'Well, be careful.' The Ravenclaw seventh year frowned at him but paused once she realized who he was. 'Oh.'

He had intended to keep walking but there was a nagging feeling in his mind that he knew her somehow. She didn't look very familiar, with her dark brown hair that stopped at her shoulders, and deeply hazel eyes. She was only a bit taller than he was and wore an oddly alarmed expression on her face as she stared back at him.

'Do we know each other?' He had to ask.

'Everyone knows the great Harry Potter.' She rolled her eyes. 'But no, I don't believe we've met. I'm Grace Pandorus.' She offered her hand for him to shake.

'Nice to meet you.' Harry said automatically as he shook her hand. 'Well, I uh...better get going.' He nodded and rushed out of the library.

The Ravenclaw watched him leave and sighed as she turned back to the shelf and checked the title book she was already holding,The Art of Bewitched Fire. With a soft hum, she continued along the rows of shelves and pondered on her weird first meeting with the famous Harry Potter.

 He seemed to be just like any other six-year to her, and yet Grace wondered why a Gryffindor such as himself would be carrying a letter addressed to Professor Snape.

A week passed by rather slowly for Harry. He had been anxious about his letter to Snape, about Toby's sickness, and also about the Quidditch match against Slytherin.

And things only got worst.

At first,Toby had mostly been a bit feverish and not very hungry for several days, until he became quite ill and threw up constantly. Hermione had determined that he was going to be fine and it was just a wizarding bug, but with the Quidditch match drawing too near, Harry had to make arrangements for Dean to take his place during the match. Harry hated it and was moody about it the day prior, but he simply could not neglect Toby's tearful, pleading request to stay with him and help him feel better.

And so while nearly the whole student body of Hogwarts were outside cheering on either Gryffindor or Slytherin during the first Quidditch match of the season, the red and gold Seeker plus Quidditch Captain had claimed to be sick.

It was almost not a lie, as he spent the entire day stuck in the dormitory and passing or cleaning a bucket (luckily Hermione brushed up his skills on cleaning spells beforehand), whenever the need emerged. Toby was clearly very thankful and got a lot more sleep with Harry by his bedside to tell him about some of his adventures at Hogwarts or to read him stories.

Whenever Toby fell in a fretful slumber, Harry itched to run to the window or even outside of the common room to try and get a good look at the Quidditch pitch, but he could never bring himself to do it. Toby needed him more.

Harry wished he could even reply to one of Snape's letters as a distraction, however he was yet to receive a reply from the man and it only made him further nervous about he kind of response he would get.

By late afternoon, Toby was already looking a much better and his paleness had begun to fade. He was sleeping longer and seemed a lot less sicker than he had in the past few days. Harry turned in the seat beside the bed when e could hear the noise level increasing in the common room, which instantly woke Toby.

'Hmmhm?' The boy groaned and rubbed his eyes. Harry scowled towards the door and clenched his wand as he stood to shut it. His magic had reacted to his annoyance and the door swung closed on its own.

Frowning at it for a moment with surprise, Harry couldn't help but be reminded of how Snape could do that all the time.

'Harry?' Toby croaked. 'May I have some more water, please?'

The teenager said nothing as he nodded and helped the boy sit up so that he could sip from the glass that sat beside the bed (Dobby had done something to it because whenever it emptied it would magically re-fill itself). Harry also hated the sound of weakness and suffering in Toby's voice and wished there was more he could do for him.

He had worked with Hermione over the past few days to gather some herbs around the Hogwarts grounds so they could brew two simple potions together in which aimed to speed up Toby's recovery. Hermione had even – however reluctantly - allowed a few tips Harry had learned from the Prince's book. The pair had worked together really well, which caused Harry to wonder if he did actually have some skill in the subject after all. The potions were already showing signs of working and yet Harry still felt as though it wasn't enough.

'WE WON!' Ron declared as he burst in to the room, a full grin on his face and with a light bruise that was beginning to appear on his left cheek.

'Ouch.' Toby hissed at the abrupt sound that frightened him and made him move suddenly with a painful jerk of motion.

'Ron!' Harry growled at him and the redhead's gaze instantly fell to the sick boy.

'Oh, sorry.' He winced remorsefully but it didn't last. 'But we won, Harry! By sixty points.'

'Wicked, great job.' Harry nodded and watched his friend leave to rejoin the celebration taking place downstairs. He raised his wand and hoped the door would swing shut as it had before. It didn't.

Sighing, he got up to close it and returned to sit on the bed with Toby. The small boy shuffled closer to Harry and rested against his side as he tried to get back to sleep, even though it would be impossible with all the noise going on downstairs. Harry doubted even a silencing charm would drown out the full volume of the Gryffindor's cheers.

He was glad they'd beaten Slytherin (although vaguely he wondered where Ron had gotten the confidence to do as well as he often had trouble with nerves, and if the fact that Malfoy had called in sick as well had altered anything), and yet it wasn't the same because Harry hadn't been there to play his roll as Captain and Seeker.

It almost felt as though he wasn't needed at all.

'I'm sorry, Harry.'Toby whispered. 'For making you miss the game.'

'It's fine.' The teen forced up a smile. 'You come before everything. It's no problem.'

'Thanks, big brother.'

Harry glanced down at the lightly umbering boy and felt better about missing the match when he realized that in its own way...it had been worth it.

Toby opened his eyes and yawned as he sat upright in the bed he shared with Harry. This was the best he'd felt in days. Rubbing his eyes, the boy turned towards the window and smiled as he saw the icy windowsill and snowy exterior. Throwing off the covers, he rushed to the spot on the floor directly in front of the window and pressed his palms against the cool surface of the glass.
'Toby?' Harry groaned as he had been woken by the boy's sudden movements.

'It's nearly Christmas, Harry!' Toby grinned at him, having lost his paled complexion and generally tired appearance. It had been such a refreshing sight the previous day when Toby had awoken the entire dormitory with his announcement that he could roar like a lion once again. Few had been able to remain annoyed at being woken so early as the joyous, healthy little boy had run around the room with relief and enlightenment.

'Yeah.' Harry nodded at the mentioning of the fast-approaching festive holiday. It had once been a time of longing and loneliness, but since coming to Hogwarts and having received his first real presents as well as having someone to spent the holiday with, his excitement towards the time had increased evidentially. And now he also had Toby to share it with...almost like a real family.

'I bet Hogwarts looks real pretty at Christmas.' Toby mused with a smile as he stared outside the window again, marveling in all the snow that was falling from the sky.

'Come on.' Harry encouraged once he had gotten out of bed and dressed. The boy sighed and turned away from the window with a huff of disappointment.

'Is Ron still kissy-kissy with that annoying girl?' Toby pulled a disgusted face as he thought of Ron and his girlfriend, Lavender. It had only made things harder as the boys could only spend time with Ron during the day whenever Lavender wasn't around and than Hermione at night (due to her busy schedule and the fact that she and Ron weren't exactly speaking).

'Yeah.' Harry sighed as he too agreed that Lavender was rather irritating at times with the way she gushed and giggled. On the upside, it did mean that Harry and Toby had been able to spend more time alone together where it was just them.

'I don't see why Ron has to put up with her.' Toby frowned as he changed into his set of black robes.

'Ron likes her.' Harry returned although the younger boy was still unable to comprehend that fact and Toby remained convinced that Lavender had put a spell on Ron or force-fed him a potion to make the redhead act that way around her.

'Is Ginny still gonna come with me and Dobby outside?' Toby changed the subject and felt a little nervous. 'I know she's Ron's sister but...' He sighed. Toby could never figure out why, but ever since he was born there was a deep sense of caution that reared inside of him every time he had to be near a stranger.

'Yeah, as far as I know.' Harry nodded. He had arranged it the previous day with Ginny, since Hermione had told her about Toby quite some time ago and yet the pair hadn't really spent any time together. Ginny had come by the previous afternoon to see how Toby was doing and they had officially met for the first time then. The small boy had been very shy at first but otherwise he and Ginny got along quite well, hence the effort Ginny was making today when she could easily be spending that time studying.

And so an hour after breakfast, Toby and gone outside with Dobby (once he was warmly dressed for the occasion in the snow, of course), and Ginny would be joining them soon. Harry rally wanted to join them but couldn't as he had to catch up on a bit of his own work and therefore, instead of being outside with the others, he ventured to the library where he came across Hermione.

Once she'd complained about Ron and lied about not caring who he spent is time with, they proceeded to talk about Slughorn's Christmas party that was taking place that night. Harry had been reluctant to join the “Slug Club” at first but had finally given in when Hermione insisted that he should; although it was mostly to keep her from arguing the matter constantly because she hated only having Ginny and Neville for company. That had been part of Harry's motivation though, that Ginny also went to those meetings. And now, as a consequence of his own caving, Harry had to find a date for the party. He knew all too well that any beverages from any female was to be avoided lately because love potions could be just as deadly as poison, he believed.

Harry watched Hermione finish her Arithmancy essay in silence while he wondered how Ginny and Toby were doing outside with Dobby. No doubt they were enjoying themselves while he was stuck in the library searching through numerous books for anything useful in which to add to his own lengthly homework. It was his own fault really, not for leaving it late as he usually did, but for starting it so soon. Sometimes it really sucked to follow the rules and do things properly.

'Did you hear that?' Harry asked her when he'd heard the obvious sounds of someone moving closely behind them in the second row of bookshelves. He rose from his seat and peeked around th books to see Madam Pince sorting through a pile of particularly large books in the otherwise empty and quiet library.

Sighing, he returned to where Hermione was scanning over his work with her undeniable expression of curiosity.

'That's quite good.' She commented. 'Have you been reading your textbooks more? I've noticed the increased effort you've been putting into your studies lately.' Hermione approved.

'I always put in effort.' Harry said defensively as he pulled his parchment closer. 'I just, have a little extra time at night, that's all.'

'Oh, sure.' Hermione smiled as his feeble excuse, knowing that free time rarely existed for her friend ever since Toby had come along. 'It's not a bad thing, Harry.' She rolled her eyes. 'This is good.'

'If you say so.' Harry frowned and glared down at his half-complete assignment. 'At least I don't have to explain why Jobbernell is so bloody rare.' He grumbled.

'The ancient herb in South Africa?' Hermione raised her eyebrows in surprise as it was a subject mostly covered in the seventh-year reading list, not a part of their six-year classes, yet. But when she thought of the possibilities, shefrowned and eyed one of the books he had with him. 'It's not from his book, is it?'

Harry glanced at the Prince's book and shook his head. 'No. Actually, I haven't used it in weeks.' He realized. 'I've learned a lot from it and I don't really need those notes anymore.' He reached for the book and flipped it open, staring at the Prince's writing for a moment and than extracted his wand to conceal the extra comments. Now it just looked like any other textbook; unmarked and apparently nothing special.

'Oh really?' Hermione chuckled, thinking he was simply being over-confident. 'Than tell me, how long does the Draught of Inner Prosperity take to make?'

'The Britain one or the German version?' Harry didn't even notice her skepticism as he poured over his work again, thinking of a few choice words for McGonagall as she was the one who had set their assignment to be an extra three inches.

'Because the German one has the Lactus seeds and...' He glanced at his friend. 'What?' Harry was confused by the stunned expression on his friend's face.

'Harry Potter, are you telling me that you could have been really good in Potions all these years if you'd actually bothered to read the books?' She gasped.

'Hey!' He frowned with offense. 'I wasn't bad, Malfoy always messed with my cauldron or Snape was too busy glaring at me that I couldn't concentrate anyway. His teaching methods did rather put me off the subject. I took notes in first year, if you recall.'

'Yes, and Snape thought you weren't paying attention.' Hermione remembered. None of the Gryffindor trio could ever forget that first Potions lesson at Hogwarts.

'Exactly.' Harry frowned angrily. 'But if I want to be an Auror than I have to pass and I'm sick of relying on these hints.' He shrugged towards the half-blood prince's book. 'You always called it cheating anyway, even though I was just following different instructions.' Harry said.

Truthfully, he had noticed that he was using the Prince's words less and less as he'd learned most of them from his constant reading. Harry had also picked up a few tricks of his own, to the point where he wanted to see if he could try and achieve the same level of skill without the book's advice. He hadn't tested it in an actual class yet, in fear that he'd do terrible and Slughorn would realize his real ability and embarrass him further in front of everyone. Although Harry doubt it could be any worst than Snape's usual scolding.

'Well, enough on that,' Hermione huffed. 'Who are you going to take to Slughorn's party?'

'I dunno, I'll find someone today.' Harry replied as he crossed out a line of writing that didn't seem right.

'I hear you're going home for Christmas instead of the burrow?' Harry felt a stab of resentment when he said those words because while everyone was supposed to leave for their holidays (such as Ron and Ginny going to the burrow to join the rest of the Weasleys, Remus, Fleur, and Tonks), Harry would inevitably be stuck at Hogwarts during that time. They would all surely notice Toby and it was too big a risk to try and bring the boy along.

'Yes, my mother insisted upon it.' Hermione nodded and continued talking about her parents plans and reasoning while Harry turned and glanced over his shoulder. He saw Madam Pince watching him again; he had started to get rather curious and annoyed about it. She had been doing it ever since that day when Toby had gotten separated from him. The librarian had turned and seen him with Ginny, as though that had some sort of impact on her. It nagged him to no end, yet Harry knew better than to just go up to her and tell her to either tell him why she was doing it or bloody stop it.

'Harry, are you listening?' Hermione sounded exasperated.

'Only a little bit, sorry.' Harry stood from his chair. 'Hang on a minute, I uh, saw a book I need.' He hurried over to the row of shelves he had seen the librarian disappear around and cautiously perused the line of books pertaining to water creatures, and watched her carefully out of the corner of his eye.

'Do you need something, Mr Potter?' Irma stared at the teenager as his intentions were rather clear. She knew enough to understand that at this given moment, the books he was falsely considering would be of little use to him.

'Erm, not really.' Harry blushed. 'I was just wondering if I did something to offend you.' He said nervously, not even sure how to approach the lady as he knew little about her other than how she considered it a crime to mistreat any book; library property or not.

'And why would you think that?' Irma asked with surprise.

'It's just...you're always watching me and my friends.' Harry stared at the floor and felt stupid for starting such a discussion, but he was unable to contain his irritated curiosity any longer. 'It's as though you're looking or waiting for something.'

'I am.' Irma nodded and the boy stared up at her as though startled. 'You remind me a great deal of my son.' She mused. 'More so than I dare to admit.'

'Oh.' Harry wasn't sure how to react to that. 'I-I didn't know you had a son.'

'No, very few do.' Irma smiled at the boy's obvious discomfort. 'I also see that my observations are bothering you, and I apologize. It is simply because I never got to see my son very often when he had been a child as we led a very difficult life back then. When he graduated, I came here...and by then it was too late as my boy had become a man.' Irma sighed as she thought upon her troubling memories.

'What was his name?' Harry was intrigued and wondered if he knew more about the librarian at that moment than any other student did their entire time at Hogwarts. She did not seem like the type of person who often shared these sort of details. And if that were true, than why was she telling him?

'You hold a certain interest to my story.' Irma noticed. 'And no doubt sympathize too, I heard you were a very kind and caring boy, Harry. But I cannot tell you his name because it will alter the way you have viewed this information. You may even begin to dismiss it. And you will think differently of me.' She nodded. 'No, it's best if you move along now.' Her vulture-like expression returned.

'Yes, ma'am.' Harry turned and headed back to where Hermione was correcting her essay in an almost hurried manner.

'Are you alright?' She asked him worriedly as she had momentarily halted her marking only to catch a glance of his serious face when he returned to her side.

'Yeah, fine.' Harry sighed. 'Did you know that Madam Pince has a son?'

'No, I didn't.' Hermione said dismissively as she's just tracked down a book she had previously been searching for.

'I wonder who he is.' Harry mused aloud, although only to himself as Hermione was no longer listening. 'His life sounded rough, I hope it got better once he finished school.' He returned to his lengthly essay and paused once or twice to imagine a tall wizard with dark hair like his mother and equally dark eyes, living in a fancy house somewhere with a wife and three children. The man in his imagination was very good at magic and smiled a lot, but every time the imagery seemed a little too bright or unrealistically cheerful, the man's face would become paler and his nose longer as he was alternatively tending to a bubbling cauldron, in a dark room in which his only company was himself.

It confused Harry and the teen quickly decided that he was just getting tired and brushed aside the little fantasy as he returned to his work, determined to keep up with his new schedule. Following the rules and setting a good example involved doing all of his homework in good time and while it was clearly an annoying hassle, Harry had to adapt the best he could. Thinking of a man he didn't even know was not going to help Harry at all.

When Hermione and Harry packed up their things and headed back to the Gryffindor common room at about seven o'clock that night, they instantly spotted Ron in the arms of Lavender. Hermione made some comment about going to bed and left for her dormitory while Harry followed her thread of thought and headed to his own. There he found Toby sitting on the bed beside Ginny who had just finished reading the boy the last phrase from a book.

'And so he didn't need to feel sad anymore?' Toby asked her as the book closed, having not noticed Harry yet.

'No.' Ginny smiled. 'The magical horse made him very happy.' She turned and spotted Harry; her reaction was to quickly leave his bed and straighten her robes. 'Uh, hello. You weren't back yet so...' Ginny shrugged.

'That's good.' Toby nodded, still thinking about the story. 'I don't like it when the wizard was sad, it made him do mean things to those mice.' The boy turned to see who Ginny was talking to.

'Harry!' He grinned and slid off the bed. His hair moved across his face as he ran forward and flung himself at his brother, to hug him tightly around the middle. 'You're back!'

'Thanks, Ginny.' Harry watched her with a grin, barely noticing the boy pressed against him, even as he responded to the hug.

'It was no problem.' Ginny said. 'Toby's a really smart boy and a delight to be around. We had a lot of fun today.'

'Oh yes, and Ginny's helping me write better with my quill!' Toby told Harry.

'That's nice.'Harry commented although he was staring at her rather than the boy.

'Well, I better go.' Ginny nodded and turned to leave the dormitory with a small smile. 'Goodbye Toby, we should do that again sometime. If that's okay with Harry, of course.'

'Definitely.'Harry nodded quickly.

As Ginny left and the dormitory fell silent, Toby stared up at his guardian and frowned as he noticed the odd expression on the Gryffindor's face.

'Why are you looking at Ginny like that?' Toby wondered.

'What?' Harry snapped back into the present and turned his gaze to Toby. 'Never mind.'

'But-'

'Forget it!' Harry frowned. 'Now come on, it's time for your shower.'

'I don't wanna.' Toby whined even as he went to Harry's trunk and began to gather his pajamas and anything else he made need.

'Too bad.' Harry sighed and yawned occasionally as he went about their usual routine. When the younger boy was clean and dressed, Harry was able to take care of himself as well as Toby also took first priority. Once done, they both got into bed and Harry was able to listen to Toby tell him all about his day, while the theen occasionally mused on the mentioned son of librarian Madam Pince.

The smaller boy fell silent and Harry glanced down at him to see that Toby was fiddling small his fingers over his lap. 'Um, Harry?'

'Yeah?'

'What's Christmas like?' Toby whispered. 'We had it at the orphanage but I was always sick.'

'Every year?' Harry was surprised by this. What were the odds of a single person being ill at Christmas for six years in a row?

And yet, Toby nodded. 'I don't remember when I was a baby, but I was told it started when I was three.' He explained. 'The other kids made fun of me and said I was allergic to Christmas, but the nurse said it was some weird thing about some sort of dried plant they hung around the orphanage that made me sick. I always missed out on the pretty stuff but never had any presents anyway.' He said sadly.

Harry didn't asked why they didn't just take the plant down if one of the boys had such a reaction to it, because instantly he thought of the Dursleys. So what if one member was having trouble with something, because no one there had really cared about that person anyway. Over the past few weeks Harry had heard hints from Toby that his time at the orphanage was spent in solitude. Such as, the young child was always on his own and there was only one lady who saw him just enough that he didn't have to struggle with dressing himself or using any of the facilities until he was old enough to do it himself.

'Toby?' Harry nudged the boy, who instantly turned to look up at him. 'I never really had much of a Christmas either until I came to Hogwarts.' The teen said. 'So I promise, this year will be different for you too.'

'Thanks, Harry!' Toby wrapped his arms around him in a side-hug and grinned. 'You're the best!'

Harry blushed at the praise and remembered when he'd been a bit like that as well; how such a simple thing like being able to enjoy Christmas could have quite a lasting impact on a person. Briefly Harry wondered if Christmas would be such a truly wonderful and happy time for him if the Dursleys had allowed him to celebrate it with them. It didn't do him any good to dwell on that thought, because under no circumstances would his aunt and uncle ever have allowed it; Harry had long ago stopped trying to make them love him.

And the pit in his stomach reminded him that while this Christmas away from the burrow would still be enjoyable with Toby because of the decorations, presents, and scrumptious food...it would never be the same as it would have been to experience it with a real family. Harry sighed as Toby's eyes began to close and the small boy fell into a slumber where he dreamed of decorated trees, presents and cake, while Harry lay down and stared at the canopy of his bed. The teenager was convinced that he was never to know what it would be like to enjoy Christmas in a fully-decorated house, with his parents, and perhaps a sibling or two as well.

Harry was an orphan and the simplest of things gave him such joy because he had lived all through his young life without it. And a small part of him discovered that it was just a little bit less painful when he glanced down at the slumbering little boy beside him. Harry realized that now he had also gained something else he'd never had before...someone who understood exactly what it was like to long for such normal experiences, like Christmas.

They had Transfiguration the next day. Harry was reasonably well-rested as he entered he classroom and was already getting used to always being perfectly on time for his classes, working on his homework at the first possible chance, taking detailed notes, and putting in as much effort as possible to the actual lesson material. He had even reduced his night-time wanderings to nearly nothing. It was so strange to Harry, that in the past few weeks he hadn't gotten a single detention from anyone; not even Snape had been able to find a reason to give him one, although the man still deducted house points whenever he could, no doubt to make up for the lack of detentions. Harry also hadn't been caught anywhere he wasn't supposed to be, doing anything he probably shouldn't be doing, and on top of all that, his school grades had noticeably improved.

It was no easy accomplishment though, as it often left Harry feeling utterly exhausted because in addition to his improvements, he was also looking after and hiding a six-year-old boy. He became irritated later at night due to all of the extra stress as well as the fact that he was missing out on several of the things he had always enjoyed wasting time with in the past. Yet Harry refused to stop, because missing a few games of chess, only getting to fly during practices, and limiting the time he spent with his friends to favor homework, was a seemingly small price to pay for Toby's well-being, happiness, and education. Even if it left the Gryffindor feeling utterly drained and moodier than usual.

Sighing, Harry continued with his efforts to change the color of his eyebrows and for a moment he thought they were a little bluer than usual, but it was too faded to tell. He glanced at Ron and laughed along with his house mates when his redheaded friend had only managed to disfigure his own eyebrows rather than to alter their colour. Hermione laughed the loudest and Ron responded by saying a few unkind yet accurate remarks about how Hermione often tried to eagerly get the teacher's attention, complete with a demonstration. Many found it amusing and few even noticed that it had reduced Hermione to tears.

Harry watched sympathetically as she rushed from the classroom the moment the bell rang; she had even left her books behind. Harry decided that her need was greater than Ron's and wasn't too happy with the way the redhead had made fun of her either. Gathering her books along with his own, Harry made a move to search for Hermione but hesitated near the doorway of the classroom when he caught the sound of McGonagall's voice.

'Mr Potter.' She said as he turned and approached her desk, worried that he had done something wrong even in his dire attempts to void any trouble at all. Well, the ones he had some control over, anyway.

'Professor?'

'I have noticed a drastic change in your behaviour during these past couple of weeks.' She stared at him as though looking for signs of falsehood. 'And I must say, I am quite surprised by the lack of detentions and the significant increase in your grades.'

'I haven't been cheating!' Harry insisted, thinking that he was being accused of something as it never crossed his mind that she was complimenting his efforts. 'And I've just had more time to do things. I-I...' He fought for a way to explain his new motivation for becoming a proper student like Hermione but there was no wording that seemed suitable enough.

'Relax, Mr Potter.' McGonagall seemed alarmed by his slight outburst. 'You are not in any trouble. On the contrary, I wish to congratulate you.'

'Con-congratulate me?' Harry frowned. 'For what?'

'For what?' She gasped. 'Mr Potter, you have managed to not only improve your grades during your NEWT year, but you've also become successful in avoiding the large amount of trouble that seemed to follow you and your classmates around like a bad scent!' She chuckled. 'It's very impressive indeed.'

'Oh. Well thanks , Professor.' Harry blushed and let out a sigh of mild relief. Actually, he didn't feel very good about the supposed praise at all. Because it meant that the teachers were so shocked by the fact that he could be just like everyone else when it came to his grades and behaviour.

'May I go now?' He glanced at McGonagall and waited for her silent nod of approval before he abruptly turned and left the Transfiguration classroom in search of Hermione.

Harry ducked his head low as he passed by a group of Slytherins, although he didn't spot anyone he knew enough to actually want to avoid. Once they were gone, he lifted his gaze and looked around the corridor, wondering where he should try first. Harry stared down the corridor and thought back to what McGonagall had told him. So the professors had finally noticed his change enough to make note of it, and for some reason this annoyed Harry rather than pleased him.

Sighing, he walked towards Moaning Myrtle's bathroom only to paused as he stared down at his refection in a large puddle of water on the floor. Normally such a thing would have him thinking of second year with the Basilisk, the writing on the walls, and the Chamber of Secrets...instead Harry was stunned by what he saw. Sure, he glanced briefly into the mirror every morning when he got up but this was the first time he'd been able to see his appearance properly since the start of the year because Harry had stopped tending to it so closely. The first thing he noticed was that with less sunlight in which he was exposed to lately, his face was a little paler than usual. Ignoring his facial colouring, Harry gulped as his hair was now long enough to reach his ears (had it really grown that fast?), and almost appeared to be a little darker as well.

Shivering at the similarity between himself and Snape, Harry kicked at the puddle - which splashed water on the hem of his robes but he paid it no attention as long as the startling image was gone. He stood straighter and continued with his quest to find Hermione. He really hoped that chilling image of his own reflection would fade from his mind soon because for a brief moment, Harry had thought he'd been staring at what Snape's son would look like, even with the glasses and green eyes. The part that had spooked Harry the most was that he didn't mind that look as much as he probably should have, considering who he had looked like; his hated Slytherin professor.

And oddly enough, it actually rather suited him.

'Hello, Harry.' Luna smiled. 'Did you know that your eyebrows have a bit of blue in them?'

'Er, yeah. Hermione, you left your stuff...' Harry offered her books and wished there was more he could do as her hastily-wiped eyes were rather obvious.

'Oh, yes.' She said and clutched her to belongings. 'Thank you, Harry.' Hermione didn't say much else as she turned and hurried off immediately afterwards.

'She's a bit upset.' Luna commented and obviously intended to say more but was cut off by Harry's distracted expression, as he eyed his own reflection again on the floor where more puddles had formed from the water that had seeped through the gap at the bottom of the bathroom door.

'Are you alright, Harry?' Luna asked him. 'You seem a bit...different.'

He hadn't expected that to be the word she'd use. 'Er, different?' Harry frowned. 'How?'

'Oh it's nothing really, just that you look like Professor Snape when he's thinking about something really silly.' She smiled.

Harry didn't want to know how she could assume to know what Snape was ever thinking, let alone comprehend that the man could possibly muse upon anything silly.

'Right, well um...' Unable to think of a response, he instead asked her something that he had been planning to anyway. 'We're supposed to be bring a guests to Slughorn's party tonight,' Harry said. 'And I was wondering if you'd like to come with me, as friends?'

'I'd love to go with you as friends!' Luna grinned happily in a rather unfamiliar way. 'Nobody's ever asked me to a party before, as a friend!'

As Luna continued to talk about the seemingly strange occurrence as well as assume it to be the reasoning behind his coloured eyebrows, Harry glanced a peek at his reflection once again and frowned deeply to see if he could mimic Snape's glare. He was quite dismayed to realize that he pulled it off easily enough, although he doubted anyone could be quite as intimidating as Snape with a single stare.

'So, I'll meet you in the Entrance Hall at eight o'clock, then?' Harry checked once Luna was done talking and had been set straight about the facts revolving around his coloured eyebrows.

'Yes.' Luna nodded with a smile. 'And what about your secret?' She uttered in a lower tone although they were apparently alone in the corridor still. 'I expect you'll be staying at Hogwarts during Christmas as well, to keep what is most precious to you safe?'

'AHA!' Peeves screamed as he emerged from the wall beside them and caused each teenager to jump. They hadn't been alone at all and his presence had been completely unnoticed until now as the poltergeist floated upside-down and chuckled maliciously at them.

'Potty asked Loony to go to the party!' Peeves declared. 'Potty lurves Looney!'

'Sod off, Peeves!' Harry scowled, which did nothing other than make himself a bigger target to the poltergeist's taunting.

'Christmas is coming, all seems well
Potter's got a big secret, he can't tell
Merry times are upon us, Potter has to stay
Cuz he's scared someone will find out, and take it all away!'

Peeves shrieked and cackled as loudly as he could while singing his newest song; one that he seemed quite adamant to repeat over and over all throughout the school for the entire day. Perhaps even longer.

Panicking, Harry desperately turned to Luna for help. 'What am I going to do now? If this gets out all over the school, we're done for!'

'I always heard that the Bloody Baron was useful for things like this.' Luna said as she watched Peeves float through a wall, still shouting his lyrics somewhat out of tune. Harry didn't like her suggestion as he hadn't heard of anyone who could just approached the daunting Slytherin ghost with something as simple as a favor. Yet Harry felt he had little choice and looked around frantically as though he had expected the Baron to just appear out of thin air.

'I think the dungeons would be a common place to check.' Luna added.

'Right. Thanks, Luna!' Harry dashed off towards the dungeons and felt very nervous as the sounds of Peeve's song continued to be heard even as he reached lower floors.

Gasping as he burst into the corridor leading to the Slytherin common room's entrance, Harry stared wide-eyed ahead and could not believe his fortune as the ghost seemed to be lurking at the end of the corridor.

'Hey!' Harry called out to him before the ghost could disappear behind the stone wall at the far side of the corridor.

The Baron frowned as he heard a teenager so disrespectfully shouting at him and yet as he turned to snarl at the boy for such lack of manners, he paused and smirked instead. He listened to Harry explain what Peeves was up to and splutter many half-brained reasons as to why he should help, such as the sound would be annoying to endure all day and so forth. Yet the Baron commented on nothing until Harry was breathlessly finished talking and pleading.

'I shall assist you this one time, Harry Potter.' The ghost told him and turned to float through the wall.

The Baron knew all about every single one of this Slytherins as he naturally had many ways in which to keep an eye on them so that he could report their misgivings to their protector, Severus Snape. And in his short meeting with Harry Potter, the ghost knew instantly that the Gryffindor boy was meant to be one of his snakes. Over the many years he had been the Slytherin ghost, the Baron had seen snakes of all types and ambitions. Although when it mattered most, he could also see things that many others were so bluntly blind to. With a confident smirk on his face, the Baron felt continuously intrigued by the fact that he could recognized a Snape boy anywhere.

And Harry Potter was without a doubt, exactly that.

'You can't stay mad at Ron forever.' Harry said to Toby the teenager stood in front of the mirror and assessed his appearance while the smaller boy sat on the bed with his arms crossed over his chest and a scowl set on his young face.

'Yes, I can!' Toby huffed. 'He said mean things to Miss Hermione and made her cry. And I'm gonna be mad at him until he saids he's sorry and Miss Hermione forgives him.'

'I admire your determination.' Harry sighed and straightened his collar before he turned to face Toby.

'How do I look?'

'How are you supposed to look?' Toby wondered as he stared intently at Harry's entire outfit, which was a pair of black and white dress robes similar to the ones he'd worn to the Yule ball two years ago.

'Not bad.' Harry hoped.

'You look a bit silly,' Toby said cheekily. 'But not bad.'

'You're lucky I haven't got time to tickle some sense into you right now.' Harry glared at Toby although he was clearly amused by the reply he'd been given. The boy's response was only to laugh at him until Harry made a move to leave.

'Wait!' Toby flung himself off the bed and hurried towards Harry. 'Do you have to go now?'

Naturally, the boy wanted to go to the party as well even, though he knew he couldn't. Not even with mentioning of the invisibility spell or cloak had he been able to convince Harry otherwise as the teenager had only reminded him that he had to be invited, also. In his attempts to prevent an outburst from the boy who really wanted to come along, Harry had gone as far as to imply that there were probably spells in which to keep uninvited people out; this had silenced the boy's arguments instantly.

'I have to.' Harry sighed and placed a hand on Toby's head. 'The others will be up soon, so you won't be bored for long, okay?' Harry smiled sympathetically at the boy and than turned to exit the dormitory to go and meet Luna as it as nearly eight o'clock.

'But...I'll miss you.' Toby whispered and lowered his gaze to the floor sadly.

--

Along the way to where the party was being held, Harry paused by a window near a brightly lit torch and stared at his appearance again. He had been doing this a lot more lately and he wasn't sure why as his looks had never really bothered him much before. Perhaps it was his similarity to Snape that affected him as well as the fact that truthfully, it was beginning to bother him less each time he saw the image.

Sighing, he guessed it wasn't really that noticeable since it had been gradual and his friends hadn't commented on it or given him odd looks, yet since he had noticed it, Harry felt it to be almost painfully obvious and he could not help but glace at his interesting reflection at least once a day. But now was not the time, he reminded himself and continued onwards with the party and his Ravenclaw friend on his mind.

Harry had met up with Luna and accompanied her to Slughorn's office, which had been decorated and possibly enlarged for the event.

'Ah, Harry m'boy!' Slughorn spotted him instantly. He automatically started to introduce the teenager to several witches and wizards who, by the end of the night, Harry felt he would have likely already forgotten. Harry also made sure to drag Luna along with him by the hand, not wanting to awkwardly face those strangers alone.

Luckily, having spotted Hermione, Harry and Luna had the perfect excuse to avoid further introductions and forced discussions; although, he hardly considered his polite few words to be considered as keeping up his end of the conversations.

Despite his slight sympathy for his friend (although, Hermione had brought this misery on herself by asking date Cormac McLaggen to be her date for the party), his interest strayed when he spotted Draco amongst the crowd. The blonde seemed to have received an invite himself since a Slytherin girl Harry had seem a few times during the Slug Club meetings had latched herself to his left arm. Draco didn't seem to notice as he conversed casually with Blaise.

'Excuse me.' Harry said to Hermione and Luna. He inhaled sharply as he increased his strides and bravely approached the small group of Slytherins, who instantly went quiet and stared at him cautiously. Two others even glanced at each other as though to receive confirmation that Harry Potter had indeed just walked up to them without an ounce of contempt.

'May I have a word with you?' Harry asked Draco.

'Er...' Draco seemed to have lost the ability to speak for a moment. 'I can hardly think of anything we would have to discuss.' He frowned but sighed dramatically and nodded to his friends, who turned and walked away to talk (or in the girl's case, gossip), about what was likely to be spoken of between the two supposed rivals.

'What are you playing at?' Draco hissed at him. 'Can't you see how this looks? I knew I should have just left you in that bloody corridor.'

'And you never told me why you helped me.' Harry replied with a scowl of his own.

'Helped?' Draco scoffed. 'I did nothing of the sort. I happen to be a prefect, it's my duty to alert a teacher the moment I find you in such a sorry state.'

'Oh, really?' Harry tried to keep his voice low as he was all too aware of the crowd around them; Draco appeared to be doing the same.

'Since when do you care about that? I'd have thought you'd be helping your buddies with those punches, anyway.' Harry sighed. 'Look, I don't know why you did what you did, but I just wanted to thank you. I guess it was a bloody mistake, since you clearly regret it.' Harry growled and turned to leave.

'I don't.' Draco's low voice stopped him and Harry thought he was hearing things.

'What?' Harry turned back to stare at the Slytherin. 'You don't, what?'

'I don't regret it!' Draco snapped. 'And I don't care for your bleeding gratitude either, Potter. The last thing I need is for you to thank me.'

'But...you don't regret it.' Harry said slowly.

'No, I don't.' Draco sighed and turned to rejoin his friends, leaving Harry standing there in a state of confusion far beyond what he'd already felt regarding his classmate.

'Ah, there you are, Harry, m'boy!' Slughorn had spotted him again. Harry knew it would be far too rude to just shrug him off again as the professor bragged about him to another wizard. Or at least until that man left to refresh his drink, not doubt trying to avoid Slughorn just as much as Harry was.

'But it's true.' Slughorn beamed at him. 'I Don't think I've ever known such a natural at Potions! Instinctive, you know – like his mother!' He nodded.

'My mother?' Harry whispered and turned to glance at an area of the room dedicated to photo frames. Hermione had told him that she'd heard how his mother had been in the Slug Club, although Harry had forgotten about it over the fact that he'd reacted with annoyance when Hermione had also shared with him that Snape had been in the club as well.

'I've only ever taught a few with this kind of ability, I can tell you that.' Slughorn continued. 'Why, even Severus-'

Harry quickly turned back around and frowned towards the professor when Slughorn reached over and apparently scooped Snape out of nothing but air, and pulled him into the conversation.

'Stop sulking and come and join us, Severus!' Said Slughorn happily while Harry tried desperately not to laugh. 'I was just talking about Harry's exceptional Potion-making! Some credit must go to you, of course, you taught him for five years!'

Severus was trapped as Slughorn's arm around his shoulders did not budge and therefore he had no choice as he looked down at the teenager and narrowed his eyes with suspicion. He had already been over this matter with Slughorn and couldn't see why he had to stand through this a second time, with the addition of Potter standing right there.

Of course, Severus was yet to recall why he'd actually agreed to attend this blasted party anyway. Glancing briefly towards the photo frames that had caught Harry's attention a moment earlier, he cast away that thread of thought once again.

'Funny, I never had the impression that I managed to teach Potter anything at all.' Severus responded and forced himself not to roll his eyes at Slughorn's bragging of the boy's natural ability.

It was an opportunity to be standing before the boy however, as he hadn't seen much of Potter over the past few weeks. In class the brat was actually paying attention and therefore was either bent over his scrawled notes or focusing so much on his spells that Severus hadn't even been able to find any reason to deduct numerous points, let along stare at the boy.

And now that he could, Severus noticed that the change in the teenager was beginning to reflect externally as well, with the slightly paled and yet darker undertone to the Gryffindor's face, the length of his hair that could probably do with a wash, and the obvious lack of contempt on his face as he stared back at him with Lily's eyes. Severus even believed the teenager had grown a full inch at least, which was not at all surprising, yet the brat seemed less skinnier as well.

'Remind me what other subjects you're taking, Harry?' Slughorn asked.

'Defense Against the Dark Arts, Charms, Transfiguration...'

'All the subjects required, in short, for an Auror.' Severus mentioned with a slight sneer, thinking of the occupation that James Potter and Sirius Black had also acquired after leaving school. And what little use all their training had been to them in the end.

'And is that what you wish to be, Harry?' Slughorn asked with a hint of anticipated glee. 'An Auror, like your father?'

'I-I don't know.' Harry answered honestly.

Yes, that had been his ambition since he'd know what the occupation was and yet lately all he could think about was that it would be too dangerous of a job if Toby were around.

'Or maybe, a Healer.' He added and said the next possible thing that came to mind in which he wouldn't mind having as a career.

'You like to help people, eh? With your skill in Potions, I doubt you'll have much trouble passing the entry exam!' Slughorn nodded and than grinned, if possible, even wider when he spotted yet another person to pull into their little group; although, he still kept a mild grip on Snape's arm should the man try to escape.

Harry was amused to realize that Snape looked like he wanted to do exactly that.

'Remus, so nice of you to join us!' Slughorn said to none other than Remus Lupin. 'I had thought I couldn't convince you to join us.'

'You were a member of the Slug Club too?' Harry asked with surprise, completely forgetting about Snape for a moment.

'Not really.' Remus confessed and looked a little embarrassed to be there. Harry also notice that the man's robes were actually rather nice and far less tattered than usual. Although the rose spelled stuck to his collar indicated that perhaps he hadn't been the one to choose it and no doubt Tonks was around somewhere as well, on duty like many of the other Aurors present at the party.

'No, Remus was always too busy studying.' Slughorn “tsk tsk”ed. 'No matter, you're here now. How are you keeping?'

'Oh, fine.' Remus nodded convincingly. 'The usual. Severus, might I have a word with you?' He asked the moment he spotted Snape and also seemed amused by the way the man looked rather trapped beside Slughorn.

'I apologize, Horace but it simply cannot wait.' Remus added more seriously.

'Well, if you must.' Slughorn sighed. 'But I expect each of you back afterwards!' He nodded.

Watching Remus and Snape head for the exit (for a moment he could have sworn Snape had wanted to say “do I have to?”, judging by the look on his face), Harry instantly began to worry.

'Sorry, excuse me, sir. I need to er...bathroom.' Harry hurriedly explained to Slughorn and Luna – who had just joined them again – before he moved through the crowd and headed to the door of the office.

His heart felt to be in his throat as it pounded anxiously when he paused to gasp for air. Remus knew about Toby and had often expressed his reluctance to keep it a secret, and Harry now feared that the only adult he dared to trust was about to reveal something to his worst enemy. The only person Harry really didn't want to know about the younger boy he kept hidden in the Gryffindor tower.

Luckily, he had brought his invisibility cloak with him in case he had to make a quick exit, should Dobby alert him to anything that required his attention. Harry pulled it out of his pocket and draped the cloak over himself in the deserted corridor. The musical and chattering sounds from the party silenced his footsteps as he proceeded along the corridor once he'd spotted the faded shadows of the adults.

Holding his breath, Harry picked up his speed and paused just outside a partially ajar doorway leading into an empty classroom where he heard voices from inside. Leaning closer to the gap of the doorway from the wall beside it, Harry fought to hear everything that was said, although it was difficult with the noise still close by in the background.

'I don't expect you to understand, Lupin, as to why I refuse to--what that deranged mutt had implied following one too many bottles of fire whiskey.' Snape was saying.

'You won't even consider the possibility!' Remus hissed angrily. 'Severus, you know as well as I do that this is not a mere suggestion. Sirius had said it once before, without any amount of fire whiskey to influence--at all.'

'Enough!' Snape snarled. 'There is no evidence to suggest that she would even--And what of James potter? Surely he would not have--'

Have what? Harry thought to himself. What were they talking about and what did it have to do with his father?

'Look,' Remus sounded tired and at his wits end with the discussion already. 'Severus, we don't know what happened. But Sirius wouldn't--He had told us very clearly that should anything happen to him--Harry...' He sniffed the air for a moment and than sighed before he continued with a less agitated tone.

'Doesn't Lily's son deserve to know that there might be someone else out there other than the Dursleys?'

'No.' Snape answered venomously. 'Only with--evidence should Potter be informed of anything involving such idiocy.' He said. 'There is no--otherwise, we owe--as much.'

'And if you're the one, Severus?' Remus asled softly.

Instead of a verbal response, Harry heard the swish of Snape's cloak and quickly retreated from the door. He held his breath and pressed his back against the wall as Snape burst from the room and headed in the direction of the party.

Remus stepped out a moment later and stared at the wall opposite the door before he glanced to his right and shook his head.

'My sense of smell is above that of an average wizard, Harry.' He said. 'And you'd think I would be used to seeing your father disappear under that cloak so many times that I could almost see it myself by now.'

Harry frowned at his discovery and pulled the cloak off himself.

'What was all that about?'

'How much did you hear?' Remus wondered, seeming almost anxious about the situation as he questioned the teenager.

'Bits of it. Something about Sirius and my dad.' Harry glared at Remus. 'Something you didn't tell me before. And what's it got to do with Snape? Who is “she”, and do I really have someone other than the Dursleys? Why didn't anyone tell me? Who are they?' He suddenly felt rather betrayed and forced his gaze away from Remus' as he stared at where Snape had disappeared to.

Harry breathed heavily from his rushed questions in which he had a sinking feeling that he was not about to receive any real answers to.

Remus had an expression of regret and concern on his face at Harry's excitement and than the obvious betrayal.

'Harry, this discussion tonight was not meant for your ears, not because it should be kept from you but because it is not wise to build false hope.'

'Tell me what Sirius said.' Harry stared at Remus.

'Harry...' Remus shook his head.

'Tell me, please!' Harry pleaded. 'He's my godfather and it was something about me, right? Or my dad? I want to know...whatever it is, I can handle it.'

'No, I don't think you can, not yet at least.' Remus said a tad more firmly. 'What Sirius told myself and a few select others a few weeks before...that incident at the Ministry, is not something in which I should even be talking about. If you want to know, I'm sorry, but you'll have to confront Severus with it.'

'Not bloody likely.' Harry scowled. 'He'll just take points and give me a detention for listening in and then throw me from his office with a bunch of insults. As if Snape would bother to tell me a damn thing!'

'Tell Severus I said there is something you should talk to him about, I doubt he would react quite as you expect.'

'Why can't you just tell me?' Harry crossed his arms. 'If it's about my dad, I have the right to know.'

'I agree, but it's not my right to say.' Remus stressed. 'Harry, talk to Severus.'

'I'm not talking to Snape!' Harry snapped. He was angry that Remus wouldn't tell him something this important and was instead giving him useless advice to speak with the one person he could never approach with anything, unless he longed for a detention. Which to this day, had never happened and was highly unlikely to ever occur.

'Than you'll never know.' Remus said sadly as he turned and - rather quickly – walked back to Slughorn's office.

Irritated and not in the mood to talk to anyone else, much less Slughorn, Harry was tempted to just leave and sulk in his dormitory for a few hours. But than there was Toby, and he could not let the boy see him in such a state or the six-year-old would surely worry unnecessarily. That would only make the situation worst.

Stuffing his cloak back into his pocket, Harry stormed off towards the office once again but spent the rest of the night avoiding the two adults he had overheard talking about him, the best he could.

He would just have to figure out a way to make Remus tell him because there was no way was Harry going to talk to Snape about it. He'd rather battle eight dragons than even consider such a fruitless task. The man was impossible on a good day, so why should the mentioning of a personal matter change that?

No, Harry was convinced that if he wanted his answers...it could only come from Remus.

When Harry had returned to the Gryffindor tower that night, following the events of Slughorn's party, he had been very quiet and headed straight to bed.

Toby was already asleep (it was rather late by that point), and the teenager was very grateful for it. Harry made a mental note to thank Dean for watching over Toby to make sure the boy went to bed when he was supposed to, but for now Harry was beyond irritated and tired.

The bespectacled teen frowned as he lay on his back with his glasses still over his emerald eyes and continued to think about what had happened that night. Draco had been at the party, so had Snape, and than Remus showed up...that's when Harry had really fallen into his befouled mood. Sirius had said something about him and his dad before he'd died and it had quite a big impact on certain members of the Order. And yet...no one even thought to tell him!

Harry hated it when he was left out of things that concerned him or that he had every right to know. He was the one who he been fighting Voldemort for years now, he had been the one to see him come back after Cedric Diggory had been killed, he was at the Ministry, he saw Sirius Black die...after everything he had done and endured, they still had the nerve to keep something like this from him.

That he might still have family out there.

It was that part in which Harry longed for answer involving the most, to know if it was true or even possible. Who could they be? Grandparents, perhaps? He didn't know what had happened to his father's parents, although Aunt Petunia had hinted that her parents were dead. Harry smiled a little at the idea of living with his dad's magical parents, but of course...surely if that were possible than he'd have gone to them from the beginning rather than being sent straight to the Dursleys? So many questions and zero answers. Remus had refused to give him anything useful and the only thing the werewolf had told Harry was to ask Snape if he wanted to know. As far as Harry saw it, that was just Remus' way of making sure he never found out.

Huffing angrily, he rolled over onto his side to face towards the door of the room and away from Toby. Harry forgot about his glasses and closed his eyes as he tried to get some sleep, his mind buzzing with the words he'd heard that night which still made little sense to him.

--

As the sun began to rise over the mountains, Harry was already dressed in his uniform and had turned to leave the dormitory. Once he'd ventured out of the common room, he called for Dobby and let the house-elf know that the elf was to look after Toby a bit earlier than usual as he had some important things to do. It had been a lie of course, since Harry simply couldn't stand to sit around in the Gryffindor tower anymore.

Turning into the library, Harry sought out a desk near the rows of books associated with household charms and potions, as well as handy gardening tools. He paid them no interest as he sat down and pulled his Potions textbook towards him.

Harry glanced into his bag which was open at his feet on the floor and frowned. Another reason he was far moodier than he had been following his restless slumber, was because he'd received a letter from Snape. And yet with the events of the previous night, Harry was too mad about his lack of received information (such knowledge that somehow linked to Snape and that the man knew of, plus Remus' advice was still fuming in his mind), and hadn't even bothered to open it.

'Good morning, Mr Potter.' A sudden voice startled him, causing his textbook to slip loudly onto the floor.

'Oh, morning...Madam Pince.' Harry blushed and reached to get his book but she had already summoned it to her hand with her wand.

'I did not mean to startle you, Harry.' Irma smiled at the book she held and than passed it back to the teenager. 'I am surprised to see you here this early, though.'

'Yeah, erm...I woke a bit too early and couldn't get back to sleep.' Harry shrugged honestly. Probably because of their previous conversation, he felt a lot more at ease around the librarian than he ever had before; it was actually rather calming.

'Did you try a half glass of cold milk with exactly three squeezes of lemon juice?'Irma offered. 'I have found it to be very useful in assisting one to sleep when their mind is far too active to do so naturally.'

'No, but thanks.' Harry doubted anyone would have thought to try something so specific and yet seemingly random. And the idea of milk with lemon juice sounded a bit gross to him.

'I'll try it next time.' He nodded.

'You like Potions?' Irma glanced at the boy's chosen textbook with an odd look on her face as though he was missing some sort of in-joke about the subject, even as the expression on her face was not one of amusement, merely curiosity and possible dwelling.

'I do now.' Harry didn't add the “since Snape's not teaching it”, yet the librarian seemed to understand as she nodded and sighed.

'Well, I shall leave you to your thoughts.' She said. 'Although if it's a distraction you desire, I find that making potions rather than reading about them can force your mind to focus and therefore your worries begin to fade far more effectively. Have a good day, Harry.'

As she walked away Harry quickly turned around in his seat and spoke a little louder than the expected whispered tone in the room.

'Wait, ma'am...why do you call me “Harry” more than “Mr Potter”?' He wondered as he had noticed that she'd done it last time as well. The only other teachers who did that were ones who considered themselves more as Harry's friend, such as Hagrid, Dumbledore, and Slughorn.

'Using your first given name seems so much more appropriate, with all things considered.' Irma smiled at the boy and than vanished behind a row of books.

“With all things considered?” Harry repeated with frown. And his mind was flooded with more questions that had erupted into creation following that lone sentence.

This was exactly what he had hoped to avoid.

Harry opened his textbook and tried to make out the first few phrases but they kept forming into either nonsense or things relating to his own thoughts.

With a heavy sigh and huff of irritation, Harry stood and shoved his things back into his bag. He strode from the library and headed towards the dungeons; he was desperate and Madam Pince's suggestion seemed as good enough an option as any at that point. And Slughorn had told him that he was welcome to use the classroom to brew after hours if he wanted to. Of course, technically it was currently before hours, but Harry played dumb to that little piece of fact.

Pushing open the wooden door to the potions classroom, Harry picked a bench in the middle of the room, facing the door. He dumped his things and than flipped through his book for a potion in which he could brew before breakfast. It was already a bit relaxing without his classmates around and the lack of a teacher who either expected him to do perfectly, or else fail before Harry even had the chance to add the first ingredient.

A particular potion caught his attention and Harry wished he could try it out on Remus. Once consumed, the potion would cause bubbles to float from the drinker's nose if he or she told a lie or gave misleading information. It wasn't nearly as powerful as a truth serum and could be rather fooled by clever phrases or reluctance to speak, however it had no scent and could be concealed in most everyday drinks. It was generally used for pranks and making sure a friend hadn't broken a promise of some sort, however Harry thought it would be interesting to see how it reacted to Remus.

The idea of sneaking a potion into the drink of another would never normally cross his mind and he frowned at the thought of it, and yet Harry simply could not stop thinking about what he had almost heard the previous night. Perhaps if he did something about it than he would feel a little better about not knowing? Probably not, but Harry didn't really have much intention to actually use it on anyone, and it was just good enough to brew since it related to his distracting thoughts. He allowed himself, for that brief moment, to believe that this particular potion was a perfect choice.

Lighting the cauldron, Harry felt rather nervous about brewing his own potion without supervision or the aide of either Hermione or the Prince's comments. And yet he was determined to give it a go as the potion didn't list any dangerous ingredients that could cause likely havoc if it all went wrong.

As he set to work with sorting through he ingredients and began to chop a purple-ish herb that smelled slightly of rust, Harry failed to notice that he was in plain sight to anyone who was to wander by the room. Even as Severus Snape left his private quarters and ventured purposefully through the corridor, only to halt at the doorway and stare at the teen with obvious shock and suspicion, Harry not once glanced up from his cauldron.

The Gryffindor vowed to thank Madam Pince later as brewing under his own circumstances really did have a distracting and yet soothing effect on him. As far as Harry was aware, it was just him and the cauldron as the rest of the world blurred out of focus and comprehension.

Severus narrowed his eyes at the unsettling sight of Potter brewing on his own, and with no obvious signs of disaster. In fact, Severus would even dare to admit that the teenager appeared to be rather enjoying himself. To him, it seemed to be an impossible sight, and yet it also made Severus feel very uncomfortable for some reason, as though there was a far more important reason behind the boy's deliberate, precise movements that the man feared to discover.

As Severus stared at the teenager who was still foolishly oblivious to such observations, he noticed something very odd about the child.

Slowly, as though a glamor spell was being removed from the Gryffindor, Severus was startled to see not the Potter mop of hair but straighter, blacker hair that was far too alike his own for comfort. The emerald eyes stood out in the darkened dungeon and made the other side of the boy's inheritance even more painfully clear. And the glasses were but mere obstacles one faced when they wished to fully absorb in the gem-like appearance of those emerald orbs.

Not himself, obviously, but others who wished to do so.

Severus watched as the Gryffindor Potter slowly became a different child in his mind; not Harry, but...himself. The blackened hair that curtained Harry's face, as he had his head bent to read the textbook, was straighter than it had ever been. His high cheekbones from his mother and emerald eyes were far more obvious than before, and his face was paler than it perhaps should be for one who deep down really enjoyed the outdoors.

Severus suddenly felt the urge to join the boy, to investigate this matter first-hand, and with a sharp inhale of dread, he crushed that impulse immediately.

Harry dropped the sliced figs into his cauldron and stirred twice clockwise before he reached for the jar of crow feet. He frowned and paused as he could have sworn that something had shattered his solitude and interrupted his peace. Glancing across the room and towards the doorway, he was dismayed to find that it remained completely empty. Shaking away the weird feeling of being watched, Harry grasped his knife and returned to his work; he thought his potion was turning out to be as good as he had hoped it would without outside influences.

Further along the corridor, Severus was enraged and desperately tried to calm himself as he spotted a few older students wandering towards the Great Hall. He snapped at anyone who crossed his path (even McGonagall, who gave him a reproachful glare in return), and strode right out of the castle to venture a walk around the grounds and away from the eyes and ears of others.

In truth, he was terrified.

Because now Severus knew that the worst was to follow. That he would have to reconsider his entire argument against Black's words several months ago. He would have to re-examine his memories and address the fact that the final real words of Sirius Black may indeed have not been entirely impossible or false. Remus was right, as Severus was furious to admit even if it was only to himself, that such a matter was worth looking into. And now he had no choice other than to try to figure out if Lily really had chosen a different father for her son, and that Harry Potter wasn't really a Potter at all – at least, not in the way in which Severus had considered the teen to be.

Was he a Potter or...quite simply, Harry? Severus did not want to find out and would give anything not to have seen the sight of the boy in the dungeons a moment earlier. It contradicted everything and only made Severus hate the boy further. Well, perhaps hate was indeed too strong a word. Fine, he strongly disliked the Gryffindor annoyance, and yet nothing in his mind reverted back to what it had been deluded to before.

Something about Harry had changed. This change had become noticeable and visible to others, although mostly the ever-observant Severus Snape. Following the mere sight of the teenager contentedly brewing in the dungeons with his all-familiar appearance...it impacted Severus in ways he continued to deny the existence of. And now, something had changed for Severus too.

And he did not like it even the slightest.

Harry stood by the doorway of the dormitory as he watched his friends saying goodbye to Toby, who had specifically made sure no one left without him giving them a hug first; although, Hermione and Ginny were the only ones who really hugged the little boy back.

Harry watched his dorm mates and the two girls pass by him before he closed the door and followed after them, leaving little Toby in the dormitory to draw some pictures with Dobby – the elf had previously been sitting on the floor nearby Harry's bed where he pulled on his new mutlicoloured woolen socks, in which Hermione had made for him as an early Christmas present.

Harry hadn't said a word to anyone other than Toby since he had returned from the dungeons smelling slightly of mixed herbs. Hermione had commented on the scent, and than left him alone when it was clear that he didn't feel like talking; she was the only other one that knew as much as Harry involving what Remus and Snape had conversed about, since she'd tolerated his ranting on the walk back to their common room after the party. No doubt by breakfast she had informed Ron as well because both of Harry's friends decided to let him remain distant and unresponsive for the most part of the morning meal. It had been the only time she'd dared to talk to the redhead properly again.

Although, directly after she'd told him, Hermione distanced herself from Ron again with a glare in his direction, possibly over the fact that Lavender had spotted him and rushed over to cling to him and gush over how she was going to miss her Won-won.

They had finished breakfast and headed to get their trunks before they said goodbye to the little boy who would miss their company over the holidays and now everyone was leaving to go home or elsewhere to enjoy their festive holidays. Harry was the only Gryffindor staying behind, other than his additional company who wasn't really a Gryffindor at all.

A handful of other students from older years and different houses were also remaining behind, but other than Blaise Zabini and Draco Malfoy, Harry knew none of them.

'Good bye, we'll be back before you know it.' Hermione hugged Harry sympathetically as he stood in the doorway of the Entrance Hall to watch his friends depart.

'Yeah, sure.' He returned in a dull voice, clearly not really believing her and still not in the mood to talk, even if his successful brewing session had ended with the results he'd hoped for.

It had made him so calm and upon consideration, he'd placed his potion into a vial and it was now sitting in a safe place inside his trunk. Now Harry was moody again as all of his annoyances and stresses returned the moment he had left the potions classroom; now he longed to return, but could not; Toby still needed him.

'Yeah, mate.' Ron added. 'And you'll be busy, so it's not like it'll be too boring, right?'

'Right.' Harry used the same voice as he had answered Hermione with. 'Bye.' He added in a gloomier voice and waved to them as Ron, Luna, Hermione, Ginny, and the others all turned and walked away to join the others heading for Hogsmeade station.

Huffing with annoyance towards his lack of excitement at the approaching Christmas holidays, and how he longed to be a the Burrow for Christmas, Harry turned sharply and released a loud gasp as he bumped straight into Snape.

Severus had been caught by surprise when the teenager didn't join his friends and hurriedly turned to unexpectedly collide with him. He reached out to grasp the boy by his shoulders to prevent either of them falling from the surprisingly strong impact.

Catching himself, Severus quickly dropped his arms by his side again.

'Mr Potter.' Severus glared down at him and had the urge to dust off his robes out of pure reflex to having someone bump into him.

'What's. Your. Hurry?'

'I didn't see you, sir.' Harry ducked his head to avoid the his eyes, no doubt embarrassed to having caused such a scene.

Severus had no idea that it was because Harry was still dwelling angrily on what he had overheard and been told by Remus less than twenty-four hours ago.

'Obviously.' Severus remarked and frowned suspiciously.

He had heard all about Peeve's lyrical words only moments before the Bloody Baron had showed up to put an end to it. Such an incident had interested Severus further because however rarely the Slytherin ghost ever performed favors for anyone, it was only ever for either Dumbledore or anyone who has been sorted into Salazar's house. It was most strange that the Baron would assist Potter, unless the ghost simply wanted to put an end to the poltergeist's singing for his own reasons?Yeah, that was probably it.

Severus had expected the boy to hurry off the moment it was clear that he could go, but Potter made no move to leave. Instead, the teenager slowly raised his defiant gaze to meet his own and seemed as though he had something important on his mind in which he wanted to ask Severus. Which was ridiculous, since when did Potter ever want to ask him anything?

'Sir, I wondered if I might ask you something?'

'Go on.' Severus narrowed his eyes curiously.

'Well, you hate my dad...um, and since you obviously went to school with him, Remus and S-Sirius.' Harry struggled to say his deceased godfather's name and also wasn't sure if he could hold onto his bravery long enough to get his question out.

'I-I was wondering if you knew...well, if you knew my mum too, since you were in the same class, right? You never mention her but I saw in your...' He stared at the ground again as he thought on their terrible incident that had ended his Occlumency lesson the past year.

Exhaling, Harry forced himself to look up again. 'Did you know her, sir?'

Quite some time ago he and Toby had discuss this matter, that if Snape had known James than he'd have likely known Lily as well. Having bumped into the man and without wanting to mention what he had overheard, no matter how tempting, he decided to see if it was actually possible for Snape to tell him something he'd asked. In a way, it was a test, in his efforts leading up to what Remus had advised Harry to do it he'd wanted answers.

He had been angered to hear the option and fought against it, but with each hour he thought about it, Harry only became further desperate to know what Sirius had been talking about. To the point where he decided to at least try and get something from Snape because really, what did he have to lose? Either he gained answers or a detention; either was likely at this point.

Severus growled at the child who had the nerve to mention three things he hated quite strongly all in one minute; the Marauders, that blasted memory, and...how he could not deny the boy the truth, and the fact that he had indeed known Lily.

'And why, pray tell, would you approach myself with such a question, Potter?' Severus was not sure if he wanted to answer the real question just yet as he had not been prepared for it and didn't want to admit it to the boy.

'I was under the assumption that Lupin and Black, not to mention numerous members of the staff or Order, would have filled your head with many tales involving your parents by now.' Severus was surprised when his answer caused the teenager to scowl in a unsettlingly familiar way as the Gryffindor thought upon the response he had been given.

'Yeah, they did.' Harry stared up at the professor he could no longer force himself to hate; the man who had always told him the truth in his own way. Maybe he had been wrong after all, to think that Snape wouldn't provide him with the answers he so keenly sought.

'I heard all about how my father was a good man.' He said. 'How he was brave and all that, but no one really mentions mum, only how she sacrificed herself for me.' Harry sighed and the man was thankful that the boy stared at the ground again because Severus had flinched very slightly at the mention of the night that had cost Lily her life.

'Everyone is trying to paint some sort of picture of my parents.' Harry was lost in his own musings and knowledge that for the briefest moment, he didn't even care who he was so casually talking to.

'I don't want that.' He stared at Snape's calculating gaze. 'I just want to know what my mother was like when she was younger, or at Hogwarts.'

'Your aunt did not tell you?' Severus raised an eyebrow, surprised that Harry was in his 6th year at Hogwarts but still didn't know his mother any more than when he'd been little.

'No.' Harry pulled a face as though to demonstrate what a stupid suggestion he thought that to be. 'My aunt doesn't even like my mum.' He still couldn't believe how easy it had become to say these things to Snape. Perhaps it had something to do with the way the man was staring at him with a confused expression rather than spitting insults and taking points?

'She doesn't like anything, much.' Harry uttered so quietly that Severus almost had to strain his ears to hear those words.

It made him pause as an invisible shiver coursed through him; Severus recalled saying the same thing to Lily about his own father. When she'd asked if Tobias Snape didn't like magic, Severus had told Lily that his father didn't like anything, much.

He stared at Harry and hoped that while the phrase was the same, the reasoning behind it was far different than his own.

'Sir?' Harry sighed. 'Did you know my mother?' He asked again and felt braver this time as he faced his professor.

'Yes.' Severus answered softly.

'You did?' Harry's heart began to beat faster with anticipation as he realized that he may be about to learn something new about his mother.

'What was she like?'

'This is neither the time nor place for such a discussion.' Severus glanced around at the Entrance Hall in which they were still standing inside.

'Well, when and where?' Harry asked eagerly. 'Please, sir...I really want to know.' He bit his lip nervously, now worried that the opportunity was about to be snatched away from him before he even had the chance to learn anything.

'Perhaps after the holidays.' Severus decided as he was have plenty of time to prepare himself for such an incident that was likely to tear open old wounds.

If the boy had been given proper information about his mother by anyone else, Severus wouldn't have even agreed to this to begin with. But he knew, it would be such a shame for Lily's only son to not even know her, the woman who had loved the boy more than enough to give away her life in order to preserve his own without an ounce of hesitation.

Harry was a bit disappointed but decided that considering who he was talking to, it was quite a reasonable arrangement.

'Okay.' He nodded and watched as Snape turned swiftly and strode back inside the castle, making the teen wonder why the man had been out there to begin with.

Christmas was almost upon them and he had much to get ready before such a time occurred. Harry could be on his way to the Burrow right now to enjoy a relaxing, fun time with his friends, instead he would be doing is best to ensure that this Christmas was as great as it could be for his little brother, Toby.

And yet, as the teenager sighed and returned indoors with the destination of the Gryffindor tower in his mind, Harry had no idea that no matter how complicated and busy his life already was, everything about about to get a little more...interesting.

The other Gryffindors and students were gone, and the tower had taken on a very peaceful atmosphere for the time leading up to Christmas Eve morning. As the sun rose into the sky and made light patterns through the window that decorated the empty common room, a loud shriek of laughter was heard from upstairs.

'I beat you!' Toby declared to Harry as he burst into the common room, fully dressed in a pair of black pants, barely-visible red shirt, and a thick, deep green sweater. The teenager he had raced down the stairs quickly joined him; there was a grin on Harry's face also as he moved a few strands of hair from his face that had almost obscured his bespectacled vision for a brief moment.

'I'll win next time.' Harry nodded as he gasped for breath; seriously, how was it possible that the little kid so fast, even at his age?! Straightening, he looked around at the common room and momentarily missed his friends, although Harry was determined not to think about it as it would only be for a sort time. Really, it was the entire Weasley family and the homeyness of the Burrow that Harry was truly missing.

'Are we ready to go?' Toby wondered and looked over at Harry, who was dressed in his usual Gryffindor uniform with the exception that he'd replaced his school jumper with a deep blue sweater.

'Almost.' Harry said as he wrapped a Gryffindor scarf around his neck and than gestured Toby to approach him. Once the boy did so, Harry pulled out a scarf he'd had Hermione knit for the boy before she'd left.

'Here, it's cold outside.' The teen handed the green and silver striped scarf to the child, who stared at it with awe.

'Isn't this a Slytherin scarf?' Toby gasped he draped it around his neck and felt its softness that wasn't present in most of the others he had ever worn.

'Yeah, Hermione made it.' Harry nodded. 'It seems fitting for you to wear it.'

'Thanks, Harry.' Toby smiled at him fondly. 'Can we go now?'

'Sure, let's go.' Harry nodded and called for Dobby.

--

Pop!

It was an idea that the boys had discussed the night before when they hadn't been tired enough to sleep. Toby had previously been granted permission to sleep in Dean's bed while the other Gryffindor's were away, even so, it had taken a little while for the boy to try it as he had become quite accustomed to sleeping so close to his unofficial guardian.

They'd talked about how they planned to spent Christmas together that year, and it had been Harry who first suggested that even though the castle would be decorated and they could eat all that great food, they should still have a little Christmas of their own, as a family. Toby had been thrilled by the idea. It was why they had enlisted Dobby to help them get outside without having to hide Toby under the cloak and walk the entire way to the edge of the forest.

'Is Master Harry Potter and young Toby needing anything else from Dobby?' The house-elf wondered as the cold, snowy Hogwarts exterior did not appear to bother him as much as the wizards in his company.

'Not right now. Thanks Dobby.' Harry said and watched the elf leave before he turned around in time to see Toby run towards the tree line of the forest. Rushing to catch up with the eager boy, Harry scanned the area for possible danger (in the form of a creature or professor). Relaxing only a little, Harry proceeded to assist the boy in their search for the best branch for their celebration tree, in which they intended to decorate.

'How about this one, Harry!' Toby called over to the teenager, who looked at the large pine tree nearby that had a branch oddly bent outwards.

'Too crooked.' Harry replied and hoped they'd find one soon as he hadn't predicted that the wind would pick up quite so quickly nor strongly as it was now.

'What do you think?' Harry gestured to a large oak branch on the ground and Toby hurried over to examine it. After a full two minutes of careful pondering, the small boy shook his head and frowned as he didn't think it had enough leaves.

Ignoring the chilling wind, the two orphaned brothers were determined to find the right branch. And despite another five rejections, they finally stumbled across the one they were looking for, literally.

'Urgh, c-cold.' Toby shivered as he wiped snow from his face. 'Oh, look, Harry!'

'What?' The teen glared at the snow that had sent shivers of cold down his neck as it dripped from his hair. He turned and saw what the boy was pointing at. It was a large, freshly green pine branch about four feet long with a lot of leaves and appeared to have only just fallen from it's tree as a result of the strong winds that now almost completely surrounded them.

'It's perfect.' Harry agreed as he walked over to it and began to figure out how to pull it out of the snow without making himself colder than he already was. The concept of magic was lost on the teenage wizard at that precise moment.

Regardless of their find, something rather troubling had caught Toby's attention as the little boy ventured away from his brother. Huddling behind a rock no taller than his hip, Toby crouched down as he thought he had heard something amongst the howling of the wind. He moved some snow aside from an oddly lumped area in the ground and gasped at what he found.

'Hello.' The little boy whispered to the dark gray kitten that lay on its side, clearly almost frozen to death.

Carefully picking up the tiny, shivering form with one hand, Toby pulled at the collar of his sweater and slipped the kitten inside so it could rest between his sweater and shirt. It made the boy cold as well, as the kitten felt to be made of soft ice, and yet he tolerated it in hope that his own warmth would be transferred to the small creature.

'Come on, let's go!' Harry called out to him. After he'd tucked his sweater into his pants like his shirt already was (this would prevent the kitten from falling out as he walked), Toby rushed to catch up with the Gryffindor. He said nothing as he didn't know if the kitten was even going to make it and the boy didn't want to get his hopes up by telling Harry.

Being only six, Toby had no idea that the kitten could be in a much worst state than merely being cold as Toby believed that by keeping it warm, it would probably be fine.

''Arry, is that yeh?' Hagrid's huge form loomed over the boys before Harry had the chance to call for Dobby to take them back to the safely warm common room.

They stopped in their tracks and stared up at their new company with an intense fear of discovery leaking into their veins. While Toby yelped at the size of the apparently scary stranger and rushed to hide behind Harry, the teenager gulped and instantly tried to explain away the presence of the boy.

'Who's that yeh got there, 'Arry?' Hagrid glanced at Toby. Once the boy peeked around his protector to poke his tongue at the half-giant, Hagrid merely laughed and nodded his head.

'Oh, so this must be 'im!' Hagrid nodded. 'Are yeh Toby?'

'Huh? How do you know my name?' Toby wondered while Harry couldn't believe his ears.

'What?' Harry frowned. 'But Hagrid, how did you know about Toby?'

'Dumbledore, o' course!' Hagrid nodded. 'What are yeh two to doin' out 'ere in the cold, eh? Come along now, I'll fetch yeh some tea!'

Glancing at each other, the two boys began to follow Hagrid to his hut as they were both shivering and longed for the warmth of the castle. Stepping inside, Toby was instantly intrigued by the small “house” and moved to sit on the nearest chair.

Harry observed the boy with a smile as a month ago Toby would never have accepted the half-giant so quickly nor would he have taken to the appearance of the hut quite as calmly as he just had. These changes were good; the little boy was still cautious and only trusted someone who was obviously a friend of Harry, yet Toby no longer fled regardless of such facts Nor did he react defensively to every word spoken or action performed until many hours after he had met them.

'Dumbledore knows?' Harry scowled deeply as he resumed their conversation. He was stunned when Hagrid suddenly burst into laughter and stared at him with a very odd look.

'What?' He frowned. 'Hagrid, what are you laughing about?'

''Arry, yeh look so much like Per'fessor Snape when yeh do that!' Hagrid chuckled as he put on a pot of tea.

With a huff, Harry ignored that comment and moved to join Toby. The small boy jumped when Hagrid's dog Fang rushed over and sniffed his stomach with intense interest.

'Get off, it's not yours!' Toby clutched to the concealed kitten and pulled himself away from Fang, which was difficult even as he managed to place a few more feet between himself and the drolling dog by lifting his feet onto the chair and curling up on it.

'It? What are you talking about?' Harry asked as he accepted the hot tea from Hagrid.

'I found it.' Toby kicked at Fang as he carefully lifted the shuddering kitten from underneath his sweater. 'I think it's cold.'

'Yeh better give it 'ere.' Hagrid said seriously as he looked down at the small animal who was only barely alive.

'Promise you won't squish it?' Toby clutched the kitten protectively to his chest as he eyed Hagrid's huge hands.

'Go on, give it to him.' Harry encouraged, now deeply concerned for the small creature's life while he also wondered why Toby felt the need to hide it from him. He was still shocked and angry over the fact that not only did Dumbledore somehow know about Toby, but he'd even gone and told Hagrid. Who else knew? Was their secret really safe or did the lack of confrontation about the matter only elude them so?

The two brothers stood anxiously around the table while Hagrid tended to the tiny kitten. After what felt like a long moment, the half-giant sighed and wrapped the creature in a large, woolen blanket.

'Is it gonna be okay?' Toby stared up at Hagrid, leaning his head backwards in order to do so.

'A bit o' warm rest 'an food, 'e should be fine.' Hagrid nodded. ''E's lucky yet saved 'im.' He added.

'I saved his life?' Toby gasped and smiled as he instantly rounded on Harry. 'Can I keep him?'

'Er, we'll see.' Harry said hurriedly. The teen turned to watch Hagrid as he and Toby sipped at their cups of tea.

'Hagrid, when did Dumbledore tell you about Toby?'

'Yeh still riled up about that, eh?' Hagrid sighed. 'I'd 'ave thought Dumbledore'd tell yeh by now, as a matter o' fact.'

'How long has he known?' Harry asked a little more forcefully.

'Dumbledore didn't say.' Hagrid replied. 'Though, I expected 'im to know for months by now.'

'Bloody...' Harry scowled while Toby stared at him, having heard the less-appropriate language that he didn't think his brother was allowed to say around him, judging by what he'd heard from Hermione when she'd lectured Seamus on the matter a few weeks prior.

'We've got loads to do.' Harry placed his cup on the table and Toby quickly copied him. 'Thanks for the tea and uh...'

'For looking after him.' Toby added as he pointed to the kitten. 'Promise you won't let him get squished, or eaten by your dog? I like him and I saved him so you better be nice to him.' The little boy crossed his hands over his chest and stared at the half-giant with a protective stance.

'I shall nurture 'im back ter full health.' Hagrid nodded and chuckled as he thought that the little boy could look quite a lot like Snape as well.

'Thank-you, Mr Hagrid.' Toby sighed with acceptance as he turned and followed Harry out of the hut, instantly wincing against the colder exterior. Hagrid waved to them from the doorway as Harry called Dobby and the two boys disappeared along with their treasured branch.

''O course, Dumbledore'd know about tha' elf as well.' Hagrid said to Fang with a small smile. 'Prob'ly a good thing I ain't be tellin' 'em tha' either.' He chuckled and returned to his hut as he had a lot of work to do if he was going to keep that tiny gray kitten alive for more than a few days. Hagrid hadn't told the boys this, but one more minute out in the snow and the baby cat would have been dead.

It was a very lucky creature, indeed.

Harry and Toby spent the next two hours in their dormitory making their branch stand upright in a discarded cauldron filled with tinsel. After a few simple sticking charms Harry had found from one of his books, the branch rested in a vertical position.

They proceeded to decorate it with pictures of things that made them happy - this had been Toby's idea when Harry said it all had to be home-made rather than stealing ornaments from the large, proper tree they had in the common room.

'What do you have?' Toby wondered as he hung a small picture of a star on the “tree”.

'Broomstick.' Harry answered and looked down at the few of his own in his hand. 'Hogwarts, a hippogriff, and Hedwig.'

'Look, we both picked a cauldron for Potions.' Toby noticed and smiled. 'See? We're like real brothers cuz we like the same things and-and we...what's that noise?' He looked around for the source of the strange tapping that Harry had just heard as well.

'An owl.' Harry spotted the familiar owl over by the window and frowned. Sighing, he stood and opened it to snatch the mail and proceeded to ignore the bird as he stared down at the letter from Snape. And yet he hadn't even opened the other one so why would...oh. Harry just realized that this was not for his other identity, S.J.E, as the words “Potter” written on the front indicated that it was for him.

Intrigued, he tore open the envelope (barely noticing the strange crest that had sealed it), and lifted out the note while Toby busied himself with the apparent importance of decoration placement.

<blockquote>Mr Potter,

In regard to our discussion earlier, you may come proceed to my office at precisely four o'clock on the eighth of January. If you do not show up on time than I shall assume that you are no longer interested in hearing the truth.

There is no need to reply to this letter.

S.S</blockquote>

Harry could not understand nor explain it, but he experienced a strange reaction upon receiving a letter from Snape that was so clearly meant for him. Pleased by the arrangement in which would give him more knowledge about his mother, Harry stared down at Toby with a grin and decided to share the good news with the little boy.

If it wasn't for Toby, Harry would never have even though to approach Snape with such a subject.

--

Even though their would-be-tree was coming along nicely, the boys still thought it needed more decoration, and therefore after lunch they headed back to the grounds in search of pine cones in which could be added. Thinking they'd look nicer with a bit of charmed colour, Harry led a cloak-concealed Toby to the library in search of some books in which may assist them with their task.

Although Harry had been to the library at times when it had been nearly empty, there was a certain calmness yet eeriness about the grand room filled with shelves upon shelves of books when the only other occupant was its librarian, Madam Pince, who was standing over by her desk repairing a stained book. Hearing his entrance, the witch looked over at the Gryffindor and was clearly surprised to see him.

'Harry?' Irma approached him suspiciously. 'I'd have thought you'd be on holidays with your friends Weasley and Granger by now.'

'I couldn't.' Harry sighed as he walked towards the nearest line of books with Toby following closely beside him.

'Well, what brings you here? Most teenagers avoid this place like the plague during festive times.' She raised an eyebrow in a way that reminded Harry of Snape's expression. Seriously, a lot of things were reminding him of Snape, lately.

'I need a book.' Harry told her. 'One on colouring charms that can be applied to objects; it's for decoration.'

'Ah, so it is holiday related.' Irma nodded and raised her wand to summon three books that were most likely to be of use to the boy. 'Have a look through these and pick out which one you'd like to borrow.' She instructed.

'Thanks.' Harry moved to the nearest table and sat down with his bag at his feet while Toby hurried after him.

'Oof!' Toby had a loose shoelace and got it caught under his other shoe, which caused him to stumble on the hem of cloak. He tried to contain his yelp as his hands flung in front of him out of instinct and the floor flew rapidly towards him.

The small boy landed hard on the marble floor, his invisible form being exposed as the cloak flew off him and did nothing to break his fall.

'Toby!' Harry rushed forward and helped the boy into sitting position. Having banged his knee on the hard floor, the boy was in tears and struggled to keep them at bay. The teen swallowed fearfully and slowly stared over at Madam Pince who was standing a few feet away, in obvious shock.

'I-I can explain!' Harry said hurriedly while Toby crawled against him, muttering apologies and complaining that his knee hurt. 'Please, please don't tell anyone!' He ignored the tears that sprung to his own eyes as dread seized his heart and choked his lungs, enabling his mind to fill with the terrible consequences that were likely to follow their discovery.

'They-they'll send him away.' Harry clutched to his little brother, who was now sobbing against him, and stared at the witch in terror and utter sadness.

Irma could not remove her eyes from the small boy in front of her. She swallowed and saw Harry's emotional state as she slowly approached the pair and knelt before them. Cautiously, as though approaching a wild animal, she reached out a hand and brushed it through Toby's hair.

'What's your name, child?' Irma whispered.

'T-Toby.' The boy choked. 'And I'm staying with Harry!' He turned to glared at her through his tears, causing her to gasp rather loudly at the sight. For a moment the boys thought she too was about to cry.

'Y-you're alive!' Irma placed a hand over her mouth, clearly stunned and disbelieving.

'Huh?' Toby frowned and looked himself over, wondering why she would think that he wasn't.

'What do you mean?' Harry frowned at her, feeling as though he'd missed a very crucial piece of information.

'I knew your mother, Wenda Jones.' Irma said to Toby. 'She came to me when she was pregnant and told me that she was carrying my grandchild and that I...' Her face darkened. 'That I would never hold the baby, never see his or her face, and that it would be alone, unloved, and friendless, given the rare chance that she would even...' She shook her head of those horrible thoughts.

'I was told you had died during childbirth.' Irma sighed. 'I didn't even know your name, but it's clear by your face that you are the child of my son...you're my little grandson.'

'I-you're m-my grandmother?' Toby whispered and moved away from Harry, only to be pulled backwards by the protective teen.

'How do we know you're not lying?' Harry frowned as he was so certain that Toby was Snape's son, but now...how could this be possible?

'Brew a paternity potion, administer any truth serum...I swear to you it's true.' Irma nodded and regained her composure as she lifted her wand and healed Toby's knee. Seeing Harry's gaze she realized that it wasn't suspicion ruling his gaze, but the intense fear of loss.

'No, Harry...I do not know how long he has been here nor how you two even came across each other. However, I assure you that I have no intention of taking him away from you.' She said seriously, almost offensively.

'I was never the mother my son needed, therefore until he forgives me and than I can forgive myself, I am in no condition to raise another.' Irma sighed. 'Although, I would really like to get to know my grandson, if you would allow it.'

Harry began to relax as his unease faded and he absorbed the magnitude of the moment. Toby had a grandmother now, one who was perfectly fine for the boy to remain with him, as long as she got to see him from time to time. That seemed reasonable and who was Harry to deny such? It was also unnatural for an adult to grant him authority of the child, as though he truly was the guardian of the boy.

Ignoring the envy in his chest, Harry meekly nodded his head and slowly rose to his feet.

'He was at an orphanage that caught fire.' The teen explained while Toby stood as well and inched closer to him while staring up at his new family member with awe.

'He came to me through his accidental magic and I've been hiding him in my dorm since term began.' Harry said. 'I have a house-elf helping me too, and I promise I'm looking after him properly.'

'I don't doubt that.' Irma saw the happy and healthy little boy before her. 'Toby.' She mused on the name. 'I know that your father, had he ever known about you, would have wanted to name you something different.'

'What?' Toby wondered.

'Evan.' Irma smiled. 'After...after a friend he once had.' She glanced at Harry and sighed. Lily Evans; oh yes, she could never forget that bright, redheaded girl in which her son so desperately loved.

'Who's my dad?' Toby wondered while Harry thought it was best to remain silent for now.

Irma said nothing and stared at Harry as she contemplated on the answer. She knew with certainty that this child was her grandson, and yet at risk of losing everything, Irma wondered if it would be wise to tell Harry the truth.

'Please, have a seat.' She said to the boys and they obediently moved to sit at the table; the colour-charming book resting there was long forgotten.

'I am from a very ancient pureblood line. My father believed strongly that muggles were nothing but filthy leeches that should be forced into their place. I disagreed and following my graduation from Hogwarts, I set out to prove him wrong by marrying a muggle.' Irma explained. 'My real name is Eileen Prince.'

'Prince?' Harry whispered but didn't dare to interrupt, although his mind pondered on the possibility behind the name now concealed in his Potions textbook...the Half-Blood Prince.

'I married a muggle named Tobias and we had a son together.' She recalled.

'At first he was a very interesting man, always determined to learn skills in which enabled him to use his hands, such as woodwork and sculpturing. But after a while he lost a dear friend and began to drink in grief. I tried to support him although I was unsure how to as he became a different man when he drank. One night I grew quite frustrated with the money it was costing us and his unemployment. At this time my son was almost two years old. I don't know why I had waited so long, but that night I revealed to him that I was a witch by vanishing the bottles of beer in the living room.' She lowered her gaze and frowned, clearly pained by her own words and yet did not stop. It was almost as though she owed the truth to the two boys staring intently in her direction.

'Things became terrible after that. Two children such as yourselves do not need to hear the darker details, but know that we were all unhappy, poor, and hurting in more ways than one. Tobias got a job working at the factories and I was too depressed to care for my son, or even give him the attention he deserved. If anything in my life, I regret nothing more than that.' She sniffed against a handkerchief and Harry wanted to offer her some comfort but didn't know how, nor did he want to interrupt the moment.

'What happened?' Toby whispered nervously and was stunned by the things he was hearing, shivering slightly as he crawled onto Harry's lap.

'Over the years, I stopped using magic...I stopped doing a lot of things.' Irma shook her head.

'My son went to Hogwarts and grew older as I slipped further away. One day it was no use for me to continue in such a way. Tobias and my son fought one summer following his fifth year. He had lost a dear friend and unable to handle his father's mistreatment any longer, my son threatened Tobias' life with magic. We were all hurting, and yet something about the pain I saw reflecting in my teenage son's eyes caused me to do something terrible, even if it had snapped me out of my daze.'

'What did you do?' Harry frowned with worry.

'By that following morning, I was gone.' Irma inhaled sharply to keep her own emotions at bay. 'The papers announced my death six months later and by the time my son had graduated, Tobias' drinking had taken his life. My son was alone, and in being so made some very terrible choices himself. I returned to him a month after...' She glanced at Harry. 'After his friend he'd lost was killed by You-Know-Who. My son was distant and unforgiving, but I did not blame him for such. I would have been too, had my mother done nothing to help me all through my childhood and than faked her death to leave me all alone in a world of pain.'

'Did he forgive you for being mean?' Toby wondered.

'No.' Irma said heavily as that single word had far more of an impact than all of the story she'd told so far.

'We have moved past it now and see each other regularly enough, with a sense of civilizedness that makes us barely friends, but no...my son still holds that resentment deep down. I can see it.'

'You never told us his name.' Harry realized. 'Your son, I mean.'

'But you already know his name.' She replied. 'I am Eileen Prince, although my new life has given me the new name of Irma Pince, although it still spells to be “Im a Prince”. My husband was Tobias Snape.'

'Snape?' Harry's eyes widened just as dramatically as Toby gasped and clapped a hand over his mouth. 'Y-you're...'

'Yes, I am the mother of Severus Snape.' Irma nodded.

'No!' Harry rose quickly and glared at her. 'You can't be. I don't believe you, you're lying!'

'I have no reason to lie.' Irma said calmly. 'Why would I not demand you to take this small boy straight to Dumbledore? What reason would I have to care who he is? And of course, do you honestly believe someone such as myself to be foolish enough to make such a claim that, if it was false, could easily be proven so?' She narrowed her eyes at the teenager.

'You said he didn't know he had a son.' Harry swallowed as he shook his mind from what he'd just learned and focused on something else. 'Than if you knew, why didn't you tell him?'

'Wenda had told me she was pregnant and I was in shock. At the time I did not know how to approach Severus about it and therefore kept it to myself until a few months later I was told that she and her child had died. I knew she had not lied about the baby being my son's as he had confessed to me a year earlier than he had been tricked into...well, for the sake of the young ears present let's call it a...short relationship.' She said to Harry, who understood that she was referring to an intimate moment rather than an actual relationship. He shivered at the topic and did not want to think about that.

'Harry, how would you tell someone who has never had a family but always wanted one that he had been granted such, only to have it taken away?' Irma sighed. 'All I could have told my son was that the woman carrying his baby was dead, as was the child. It would ruin him completely and he had little left as it was.'

In the moment of silence that followed, Harry finally let his anger and suspicion fade away. He wasn't sure how or why, but he truly believed and trusted her words. She looked a bit like Snape, with the dark hair and eyes, while he glanced down at Toby and noticed the similar features; there was no way in which he could deny it. He should have demanded further proof, but to Harry it didn't really matter because he was sure it would all be positive anyway.

'It's really true?' Harry sighed. 'You're...you're Snape's mother and Toby really is his son?'

'I don't like him.' Toby complained. 'I don't need a dad, I have you and now I have a grandma too!' He smiled at Irma, who couldn't help but smile back at the little boy.

'Are you going to tell him?' Harry wondered. 'Now that you know Toby's alive, I mean.'

'No!' Toby tugged at Harry's clothes. 'Don't tell him! I don't like him and I don't want a dad!'

'He has the right to know.' Irma sighed in a similar manner that Harry had. 'However, perhaps we should wait until the war is over.'

The war.

Harry had almost forgotten about it.

'Yeah, okay.' He nodded and focused on the fact that right now he was in the company of Snape's mother and son. It was unnaturally weird. And yet it didn't bother him as much as it would have several months ago. His theory about Toby's parentage had been right, even as it was still quite a shock to have it confirmed in such an unpredictable manner.

'You need time to digest this information.' Irma realized. 'Please, take the books and we can discuss this whenever you're ready. Both of you.' She nodded.

'We have plenty of time for the serious things later, for now it's nearly Christmas and you boys have some decorating to do.'

'Right. Thanks.' Harry nodded and snatched the books from the table as well as his bag from the floor.

'And you won't tell anyone?' He paused by the doorway to check while he assisted Toby in replacing the cloak around himself.

'Not a soul, living or dead.' Irma nodded. 'Although, Harry...why is it that when you heard my surname you looked as though it meant something to you?' She wondered curiously, having noticed his reaction to the name “Prince”.

'Oh, I uh...found a book.' Harry shrugged. 'It said it was the properly of the Half-Blood Prince.' He pulled it from his bag and showed her the writing once he had revealed it again, although he was worried that she might take it since it really wasn't his.

'Desecrating a book.' She muttered at the sight of it. 'But yes, this is my son's handwriting.' Irma sighed. 'And he is a half-blood and a Prince.' She watched as the boy hide the writing again and clutch it to his chest protectively. 'You may keep it, of course, but do not let it near my sight or I may be tempted to fix it.'

'Thanks.' Harry nodded and nudged the invisible boy at his side. 'Um, Happy Christmas.' He added as he and Toby left the library.

Irma watched them leave with a heavy, emotional sigh. Turning, she approached a large portrait of a rain forest on the wall nearest her desk. Walking straight through the image, she entered her quarters and looked around at the warm, blue and emerald appearance of the living room. Crossing to the fireplace, she threw in some floo power and moments later she was standing in her son's private room.

'Usually one requests permission to enter ones private quarters.' Severus looked over from where he was seated at a small table nearby the deep urban leather couch, to glare at his mother.

His room was similar to her own, but with more light and less blue. It was rather spacious and grand, yet had a sense of simplicity about the entire room, which consisted of armchairs and a couch by the fireplace, a small table with two chairs not far behind it, with a kitchen nearby. Towards the right of the fireplace where Irma was standing was the door and the left had several others, one for Severus' bedroom, a bathroom, and a spare room that was never used. Near the back by the kitchen and closer to the main exit/entrance was a door to his office. There were also piles and shelves of books everywhere that were neat and yet scattered about the entire room.

'And usually one does not lie to their own mother once they have become an adult.' Irma frowned at him.

'Your motherly duties are null.' Severus scowled at her. 'However, out of mere curiosity, what is it in which I have supposedly lied to you about?'

'Do you recall when I was worried that you would become the next Dark Lord upon his downfall?' She narrowed her eyes at him. 'He too hated his muggle father, considered his pureblood mother weak for choosing such a person who unintentionally provided him with a rotten childhood.' Irma sighed at the truth that had been his own words many years ago.

'He became fascinated with the Dark Arts, was sorted into Slytherin, befriended future Death Eaters, and than upon leaving school wanted to teach the Defense Against the Dark Arts class at the only place he'd ever really called home.'

'I fail to detect a lie.' Severus said very bitterly. He truly hated it when she compared him to the Dark Lord; he was nothing like him!

'Then You-Know-Who than fancied himself a new name, one in which had more meaning to him than it did the others.' She concluded as though he had not interrupted.

'When I asked you if your paths were the same, you said no. And than you promised that no such thing would occur...and that those similarities were mere co-incidence. Your blood and house were the only things from that list that you truly had in common with what you called a monster.'

'That. Is. No Lie.' Severus slowly rose from the table and frowned at her.

'You did fashion yourself a new name.' Irma pointed out. She glared when her son paused as considered her words and realized that perhaps he had been to hasty with his reply.

'The Half-Blood Prince, Severus?'

'Where did you hear that name?' Severus whispered although he knew of only once place in which he had ever made note of it.

'It doesn't matter.' Irma replied. 'I don't even know why it does now. I believe you when you say you're not like him. You-Know-Who could never have loved anyone as fiercely as you did Lily.'

'Than why do you barge upon my privacy so, mother?' Severus scowled, trying to find a point to this useless conversation that did nothing other than to emotionally injure him further.

'I was thinking about the past and there is something you should know.' Irma whispered as she lowered her gaze and than slowly raised it to meet his.

'You have been robbed, mistreated, and pained, however I have a strong feeling that by the end of this year...something you have lost will come back to you. In a way you won't expect it to.'

'Get. Out.' Severus glared. He hated her cryptic words, her seemingly random visits that never made him feel any better about anything, and most of all he just wanted her to disappear because he could never escape his past when she was around.

'Don't forget.' Irma said as she turned back to the fireplace. 'Don't ever shut your heart completely, Severus. Lily wouldn't want that.'

And than she was gone, just as he had requested, and Severus sank into the nearest chair to dwell on her parting words. Oh, she may be his mother, but how he hated her so.

--

Irma returned to her room and crossed it to the large bookcase where she tapped it three times with her wand and whispered softly to the leather books sitting there.

'Lily forgives Sev.' Irma uttered the password and watched as the books melted away to reveal a shoe box that was aged and a bit tattered. Lifting it from the shelf as though it was made of fragile gold, Irma placed it onto the nearest flat surface and peeled open the lid.

Inside was a single vial containing one of her own memories. Irma did not touch it, in fact she appeared to be quite afraid of its very existence. Long ago she had placed it inside that box and hidden it away; it had been nearly seventeen years from that month and yet Irma had never viewed it since it had been removed from her mind. Many charms surrounded it to prevent herself from daring to even touch it as she had forced herself to forget its contents entirely.

On some days she even forgot the vial itself was real.

Meeting Toby and not being able to deny how he and Harry looked so alike her son, Irma was once again tempted to summon her pensieve. She didn't though, because she had promised the person whose name was written clearly upon the label of the vial, who had made her swear to keep it a secret, even from herself.

'No, I promised.' Irma sighed as she placed the box back in it's place, where it was once again concealed, and turned away to face the fireplace.

'I cannot know, not yet, and neither can those involved with it.' Irma walked out of her quarters and returned to her duties as the Hogwarts librarian.

The vial, hidden in her private room, rolled gently onto its side from the movement and had there been any light to shine upon it, the label would have been very clear to anyone able to read it;

Lily Evans. 1979.

While Toby was putting up their colourfully charmed pine cones in their dormitory, Harry had moved downstairs to the common room where he frowned intently at the letter Snape had sent him a while ago. Harry hadn't wanted to open it and as he sat there in silence, staring at the sealed envelope, he ran through his mind the things he had recently learned about the man he had once hated.

Because in truth, Harry could not find it in himself to hate Snape any longer.

The man had suffered as he had; in similar ways and different situations, but they'd both had a childhood taken from them and lacked a loving family. The more Harry thought about it the more he wondered if any of this had contributed to why Snape was such a bitter and sour man.

Exhaling slowly, Harry reached to touch the line of the envelope's opening but hesitated further still...what if it contained a bad reply to his guess? Snape had requested a satisfactory response to the fictional scenario involving an unknown wizard's death, and yet Harry hadn't really given him one; he had been so convinced that the man was testing him instead.

Deciding that he was willing to take that chance since Snape would technically be annoyed with S.J.E instead of himself, Harry tore open the envelope and extracted the letter from within. It was surprisingly longer in length than what he had come to expect.

Harry exhaled with intense relief when he read that and was pleased to know that he no longer had to answer a bunch of theoretical puzzles and scenarios each time he wanted to ask something. Curious as to why this letter would be so lengthy if that was all Snape really needed to say, Harry lowered his eyes to continue reading.

Harry frowned as he read over those options and honestly hadn't noticed that there was indeed quite a long period of time between their letters, mostly because he had been busy and hadn't found the time to reply. Or lately, he simply hadn't wanted to.

Sighing, Harry knew that the only suggestion that would really work for him would be the second one. Even as he felt a sting of resentment towards how it was similar to the mirrors he and Sirius would have shared, and yet it was Snape in which would be at the other end instead.

Gulping, Harry suddenly felt an intense rush of relief towards the fact that he had decided to read his letter while it was still December. He shuddered to think of what would happen if Snape found out it was him writing those replies and than to march up to him in the middle of breakfast in front of the entire school.

Harry believed that such an embarrassment would kill him where Voldemort could not.

Harry grabbed a nearby quill, spare piece of parchment and a textbook to lean on, as he formulated a reply and spelled the handwriting; it would indeed be less annoying to have to spell every single reply. Spotting Hedwig nearby, he was tempted to use her but knew that Snape may recognize his snowy owl and didn't want to risk it.

'Dobby?' Harry called just as he heard Toby's feet running around above. The boy burst into view with a huge grin on his face.

'I'm done!' Toby announced. 'Come see, Harry. Come on, have a look!' The boy pleaded with obvious glee and pride.

'Hang on.' Harry answered as Dobby appeared in front of him.

'Yes, Master Harry Potter, sir?' Dobby bowed.

'Could you get this letter to Snape without him seeing you?' Harry handed the folded parchment to the house-elf.

'Of course, Master Harry Potter, Dobby would be honored to deliver his letter for him.' The elf bowed and popped away to do exactly that.

'Aright, I'm coming!' Harry sighed heavily when the impatient Toby grasped his hand and tried to tug him back upstairs to the dormitory. Although, he had to admit that their Christmas branch was coming along rather nicely. It stood upright in the cauldron, decorated with their hand-drawn pictures and colourfully charmed pine cones. Small strings of tinsel was also wrapped the smaller branches in odd places; no doubt Toby had stolen them from the larger Christmas tree that stood tall in the Common Room.

'Do you like it?' The small boy asked anxiously.

'It's brilliant.' Harry grinned as he praised the small boy, since it was Toby who did most of the decorating.

'I'm hungry, when's Dobby bringing the feast to us?' Toby wondered.

Normally if Harry stayed behind for Christmas, as he had most years until he began to join the Weasleys more often, he would enjoy the feast in the Great Hall with those that had already remained behind, as well as the few staff members too. This year, however, with Toby to share it with this wasn't an advised option and therefore Dobby would be sending a portion of the feast to a table in the common room for the boys to enjoy together. Harry didn't know it, but permission had to be gained to do this and the house-elf had been granted it by Dumbledore.

Upon remembrance, it also pained Harry to recall that his last Christmas had been at Grimmauld place with Sirius.

'We've still got time.' Harry answered. 'Fancy a game of chess?'

'Yeah.' Toby sighed as he was looking forward to the feast and also wanted to improve his chess skills, which so far could easily be described as “nonexistent”.

The boys had eaten their fill, showered, and headed to bed later than they'd planned. Snug under the covers, Toby dreamed about the grey cat he had found, then of swinging from long strings of tinsel, the library filled with lemon tarts, being chased by towering trees, and making chocolate pudding in a rainbow cauldron.

Harry however, mostly dreamed of memories of some of his previous Christmases, and than of a younger Snape being followed by four Gryffindor-coloured shadows. He was yanked from his slumber by a grinning-Toby that following morning.

'It's Christmas!' Toby declared happily. Now that he had woken Harry, he turned and ran down the dormitory stairs to burst into the common room.

'And we've got presents!' He shouted with pure, unrestrained glee.

Harry yawned and put on his glasses as he pulled himself from the bed and ventured to join the boy. 'Happy Christmas, Toby.' He added with a smile as he sat cross-legged on the floor with his brother.

'Happy Christmas, Harry.' Toby nodded back with a gin so wide that all of his teeth were in sight, including his new one that had recently come through.

And without further ado, the boys began to reach for their gifts and tear open the wrappings.

Harry got a sweater with a large Golden Snitch on the front from Mrs Weasley, a large box of Weasley's Wizard Weezes products from Fred and George, a set of Quidditch posters from Ron, sweets and a book titled “A Guide to Muggle Plants in Potions and How to Make them Useful” from Hermione, a large bag of rock hard cookies from Hagrid, a colourful assortment of mis-matched socks from Dobby, a book called “A Young Potioneer's Guide to Mastered Potions” from Irma, a package from Kreacher that he didn't dare to open, and a very large drawing from Toby.

'Wow, thank you.' Harry said to the boy.

It was a piece of paper roughly three feet long and high. Detailed in colour and with maturing skill was a castle (Hogwarts, surely), several people on what appeared to be pointy sticks (broomsticks, perhaps?), and many other bits and pieces that Toby had added but would take at least half an hour for Harry to look at them all. It was really good and the boy had clearly spent a lot of time and effort on it.

'Do you really like it?' Toby bit his lip nervously as he looked over at him. 'Miss Hermione helped me make the paper bigger and put some spells on things.' Surely enough, a few objects moved occasionally or the people waved.

'And if you touch stuff, her words come up to tell you who the people are...in case they move too fast.' He added. Actually, that was likely the reason Hermione had told him when actually it would be so Harry could tell who was who.

'It's really good.' Harry nodded. 'What did you get?' He wondered, surprised to see a pile of unwrapped gifts beside the boy.

Toby had received a colour-changing wizard's hat from Ron, a silver whistle from Seamus that bursts with Irish tunes when blown, a muggle football from Dean, a small gardening pot from Neville with soil and a strange flower budding inside, a box of Bertie Botts Every Flavor Beans and a small child's telescope from Hermione, a rainbow-coloured quill from Ginny that changes the colour of it's ink daily, rock cakes from Hagrid, an assortment of mis-matched gloves from Dobby, a thick book of humorous children stories from Irma, and five things from Harry: a brand new, black cloak with a silver fasting, a magic pop-up book about dragons, a stuffed hippogriff toy, a chess set, and a child's training snitch that glows in the dark.

'They're all really great!' Toby's eyes brimmed with tears. 'I-I've never had presents before.' He lunged at Harry and wrapped his arms tightly around the teen.

'Thank-you, thank-you, for letting me come to Hogwarts and for being the best big brother ever!'

'You're welcome.' Harry hugged him back as he smiled. 'Thanks for being the best little brother anyone could ask for.' He added.

Toby chuckled and smiled shyly at him. He than frowned as he tilted his head to the side and pointed at an armchair near the tree. 'I think you missed one.'

Harry reached over and grabbed a roll of parchment wrapped with an emerald ribbon. The note attached read:

Harry held the promised communication parchment in his hands and smiled as he stared at the note. It was a rather quick response, as though the man had either predicted his answer and had it ready or...Snape had worked on it last night. How long would it take to apply all of those charms to two rolls of parchment and making them match? Either way, Harry grasped it and added it to his pile of gifts; he didn't care what it had been intended for, he was going to consider it a gift.

Imagine that, Severus Snape sending Harry Potter a Christmas gift...yeah, that was as crazy as trees fighting back.

Huh, guess it's possible then.

As Toby settled to enjoy and play with his new presents before breakfast, Harry moved to an armchair by the fire and stared down at his unrolled piece of parchment. Leaning on the back of a random book, Harry has his green inked quill poised to write. He was far too curious not to and wanted to test the handwriting spell as well as the charmed object in general.

Happy Christmas, sir.

Harry stared at the writing and was please to note that it turned out almost exactly as it had whenever he'd applied the handwriting spell himself. He must have stared at his own words for at least two minutes before they faded and were replaced with new ones, something he had not at all been expecting.

Harry laughed at the reply and noticed that Snape's writing looked different as well, but if you knew who it was from than it was still rather simple to tell notice the similarities. Hooked already and enjoying himself, Harry snatched at his quill and replied.

'Is that the magic letter thing you're writing to Snape with?'Toby peered over at him.

'Yes.' Harry nodded. 'And it works brilliantly.'

'Can I ask my questions now?' Toby wondered eagerly. 'I can still remember them!'

'Yeah, go on.' Harry scribbled something else down and than listened to the boy reciting what he wanted to know.

Severus growled again as a spelled alarm dinged nearby. His eyes trailed from the list of ingredient stores he needed to restock, to the roll of parchment that rested open at the end of his desk. He saw the boy's words writing themselves one the surface and regretted making such an offer for the teenager to use it whenever. What had he been thinking when he'd made that suggestion? No matter, the misjudgment had been made and now he was forced to endure it.

Sighing, Severus pulled the parchment closer and read over the answer. Yes, he remembered that the boy was an orphan, yet it was still Christmas and writing to his professor seems to be a poor way of spending the festive day. Unless he was finding great amusement from this and no doubt the attitude-expressing boy was.

And then there were the questions. For a six-year-old, they actually weren't too bad. Far better than Severus had been expecting, anyway.

Harry sat and read the reply aloud while Toby hung over the top of the armchair to listen. The boy was satisfied with all the answers except one part. Frowning at Harry, he watched relentlessly as his brother wrote down his reply and added to it.

The boys sat back and called Dobby to order the breakfast they wanted, having a lot of fun personally picking out each food item and drink. Afterwards they headed outdoors to built a snow-wizard that ended up looking a lot like Snape with a hat - otherwise their creation would look rather bald). They'd planned to check on the cat as well but when they knocked on the door of Hagrid's hut, there was no answer.

By lunch, Toby was enjoying his presents and the food Dobby had brought him while Harry thought he should head to the Great Hall. If he failed to make an appearance than the others were likely to get rather suspicious. And so he left his brother in the common room with Dobby as the boy played with his new toys and fussed over the books. Harry walked through the portrait hole and down the stairs, skidding to a calm stop just short of the Great Hall.

Inside the staff and few remaining students were seated together around a large round table as they prepared to enjoy the Christmas lunch. Harry was momentarily horrified to see Draco and Blaise amongst them.

'Ah, Harry m'boy!' Slughorn spotted him from where he was seated beside McGonagall.

'We were beginning to worry.' He said, although only three out of the others (which were at least twenty), actually looked over at him as though that was true. Hagrid beamed at him, Dumbledore smiled, McGonagall nodded in greeting, Irma raised at eyebrow to criticize his lateness, and Trelawney gasped dramatically.

'Come, come!' Slughorn encouraged.

'Yeah um, sorry I'm late.' Harry blushed more to Irma than anyone as he moved to one of the few empty seats left beside her and the other empty one to his left. Slughorn was beside Irma, followed by McGonagall, Dumbledore and than Hagrid etc.

'No to worry, m'boy.' Slughorn hadn't seen Irma's expression and merely chuckled at the suggestion. 'How have you been keeping?'

'Fine, sir.' Harry nodded as he dutifully helped himself to some Christmas ham and mince pies.

'Not studying too hard, I hope?' Even Slughorn nodded the darker rings around Harry's eyes that were still yet to fade. 'Knowing your material is essential for a NEWT student, but so is getting plenty of rest.'

Harry had no time to formulate an excuse or reply when he spotted instant movement across the table and saw Draco get to his feet a few chairs away. The blonde's gaze was directed towards the door, where Snape stood hesitantly.

'Severus!' Slughorn grinned at him as much as he had to Harry, although with a little more wine in his system. 'There's plenty of room for one more.'

'Mr Malfoy.' Severus greeted Draco, who now seemed embarrassed to suddenly standing, although it had been a polite sign of respect that had occurred instinctively when he'd see his head of house and godfather standing there.

'Severus?' McGonagall looked surprised as she watched the dark-clad man approach and scan the table for a suitable seat. Not wanting to be seated between Trelawney and Dumbledore (Hagrid had just left), nor with a group of giggling third year girls, his reluctant gaze fell to the empty chair between Harry and Blaise.

'Atta boy, join in on the fun for once, won't you, Severus?' Slughorn nodded at him.

He turned back to Harry, who was now feeling very nervous and unprotected about being in the chair directly to Snape's right. Thankfully, the man was currently choosing to ignore him.

'What?' Harry realized Slughorn was talking to him. Catching Irma's glare, he quickly recovered.

'I mean...pardon, sir?'

Severus withheld a sneer of dislike towards Potter's rudeness and reached for his goblet of wine. He wasn't sure why he had even bothered to leave the safety of his dungeons to venture into the dangerous room that was the Great Hall during Christmas lunch. Severus supposed he had S.J.E to blame for it.

'Yeah, I've just been really busy lately, sir.' The boy was saying and Severus was certain the brat was referring to whatever trouble he was getting himself into this time. He refused to acknowledge the fact that he had caught the Gryffindor in the middle of very little wrongdoing in the past weeks and simply decided the boy was getting sneakier.

'I'm surprised you've decided to remain behind at Hogwarts this Christmas, Mr Potter.' McGonagall spoke. Severus lifted his head a little to listen more closely.

'With Mr Weasley returning to the burrow, I'd have thought you'd join him.'

'I wanted to at first, Professor.' Harry replied. 'But there will be plenty of time to do that after I graduate and this is my second-last year at Hogwarts so I wanted to make the most of it.'

Severus had to admit, that lie was perfectly delivered. Although Potter had never been an exceptionally good liar and he worried about where this skill had been given the chance to develop.

--

As the meal progressed, Severus found himself caring less and less about the conversations around him and merely settled to serving himself a small portion of food and an even larger serving of wine.

'Having a good Christmas, Harry?' Dumbledore smiled at him.

Harry opened his mouth to say “yes, sir”, but stopped and remembered that the headmaster had been keeping knowledge to himself about Toby and hadn't bothered to share this fact with him. Frowning, he decided to steer away from any discussion with Dumbledore and looked around for an alternative. Irma was conversing with McGonagall, Slughorn was chuckling across the table at Hagrid (who had returned to sit beside Trelawney as a seventh year Ravenclaw had left), and already his options were limited.

'Er, have you brewed anything interesting lately, sir?' Harry gulped as he turned to Snape. To his horror, half of the table fell silent to watch their exchange. No one was more stunned than Snape by the suddenly casual conversation directed his way by the Gryffindor student, and yet he was the first to recover.

'I can hardly see how that is any of your concern, Potter.' Severus narrowed his eyes dangerously at the teen. Why was Potter talking to him instead of the headmaster?! He slowly raised his gaze and was awkwardly aware of the gawking audience and felt terribly pressured to say more. Severus squashed that ounce of nervousness instantly and remained silent; he didn't have to talk if he had nothing he wanted to say!

'What about you, Harry?' Slughorn smiled. 'Surely you've been doing some brewing yourself, m'boy?'

'Mostly serums and draughts, sir.' Harry turned to the other professor again, thankful for being surrounded by two Potions Masters.

Dumbledore had noticed the teenager's obvious ignorance towards him and instead of being bothered or confused, he merely nodded knowingly and turned to speak with McGonagall.

'I had hoped to brew veritaserum, actually.'

'Whatever for?' Slughorn wondered with delighted surprise. Severus however was supremely suspicious of the Gryffindor, more so than usual, anyway. 'You're not planning on using it, I hope?'

'No, sir.' Harry shook his head. 'I was just curious. There was an old philosopher who once suggested that dragonroot could be added in the instance of having the drinker keep their memories of the usage. It's highly inconvenient, but curious nonetheless.'

Severus tuned out of the conversation as a startling realization filled his mind; Harry Potter's supposed brilliance in Potions was not entirely a fluke. With the absence of his previous Potions Master, the boy was suddenly more interested and skilled in the subject than he had ever been in the past five years of his education.

'It seems I was mistaken.' Severus spoke, directing the Gryffindor's (and many other's), attention back to himself.

'And pray tell, Mr Potter, where has this profound interest towards the fine art of Potion-making stemmed from?'

Harry stared at Snape and frowned, thinking for a moment as he decided to face the man and even raised his emerald eyes the match Snape's obsidian ones.

'I've always been interested in Potions, Professor.' He said defiantly. 'Surely you know that?'

Severus watched the brat turn to converse with Irma (his mother calls the boy by his first name...when did this happen?!), and lowered his gaze to his empty plate. He had been ready to snarl at the boy for lying or his cheeky attitude, while also denying truth in his words. But the sad fact was...there was little falsehood behind those Lily-like eyes. An image of Lily's eleven-year-old son loomed into his mind, as the boy sat beside a cauldron and eagerly copied down notes matching what his Professor was saying in the boy's first ever Potions lesson. Where had the Potter-like mop of hair gone? And the rounded glasses? The sneer of defiance accompanied by a chuckle shared with his Gryffindor buddies?

Severus stood abruptly from the table and didn't bother to utter an excuse as he turned and strode from the room. It had been a mistake to join in the festivity and now he deeply regretted it. As he left, only two others were watching his retreating form and wondered what had caused Snape to leave so suddenly. Harry and Draco turned away from the door and stared right at each other for a period of thirty seconds before they frowned and returned to speak with the person to their right.

Ten minutes later, the lunch continued as though the group had never been joined by the rare presence of Severus Snape.

A man who was, at that moment, throwing a jar of fish eyes at the wall of his office before he sank into his chair and hung his head with intense remorse. It was the first time he had truly expressed or even felt such an emotion in fifteen years. Will it always be associated with such a set of emerald-green eyes?

Christmas passed and the New Year arrived. It was an afternoon in early January when the other students arrived back at the Hogwarts castle, returning the noise level and business to normal. And yet it didn't feel that way for Harry, not anymore. Since learning about Irma Pince really being Eileen Prince – mother of Severus Snape and grandmother of Toby – his entire outlook on everything had changed. It was not a drastic modification; however it was noticeable to the Gryffindor teenager as he paced the dormitory and pondered on how to share his new discoveries with his friends.

On top of that, he was also thinking constantly on the 8th of that month, because that would be when he was to meet Snape to discuss what the man might know about Harry’s mother. He was almost tempted to back out of it from stress alone.

'Are you alright, mate?' It was Ron who asked first that mid-morning (the day following the student’s return), as they sat around in the library to catch up on a little school-related reading as per Hermione's insisting.

'There's something I have to tell you both, but I don't quite know how to explain it.' Harry confessed with a heavy sigh and glanced over towards Irma. His friends didn't know it, but Toby was over there as well, having been delivered invisibly by Dobby so that he could spend the morning getting to know his grandmother as opposed to the boy being in the dormitory on his own.

'Should we go somewhere else?' Hermione suggested. She didn't want to abandon her studious task in the library but knew that whatever Harry was referring to was very important, at least to him.

'No.' Harry shook his head. 'I'm not ready to talk about it yet. I just wanted to let you know that in case you think I’m…I dunno, acting strange or something.’

‘Thanks.’ Ron nodded as he pulled a face towards his very short essay and sighed. He hated school work yet even more so when Hermione forced them to do it when they could be enjoying the time someplace else.

Harry continued to watch Irma for a moment and glanced at his friends, contemplating for only a brief moment longer before he spoke.

‘I’m almost done, so you’ll have to excuse me.’ He stood and gathered his books in his arms while shoving the rest of his belongings into the depths of his bag.

‘Sorry.’ Harry added as he walked away from Ron and Hermione to pause at the librarian’s desk.

‘Good morning, Harry.’ Irma smiled at him. ‘Your friend is fine, you needn’t worry.’

‘Oh, I’m not.’ Harry blushed as he had been rather curious as to how Toby was going. ‘I was just…well, I have some free time and…would you mind? It’s okay if you’re busy, really, it’s just an idea.’

‘You would rather sit here indoors with me than scurry outdoors with your friends?’ Irma raised a suspicious eyebrow at him that made the teenage realize where Snape got such a look from.

‘I spent most of the holidays outside.’ Harry shrugged. ‘I don’t mind, if it’s alright with you.’

‘By all means.’ Irma nodded towards a chair behind the counter. It was beside the one Harry knew contained Toby, who was invisibly reading a book and marveling in all the discreet magic that his grandmother knew. Toby had thought Harry’s magic was really cool but his grandmother knows lots and lots!

‘I have placed a few charms on the area here.’ Irma added over her shoulder. ‘You should have no reason to hesitate to speak freely.’

‘Oh, thanks.’ Harry nodded as he sat in the chair and resumed his reading.

He had lied to his friends when he’d said he was almost done with his work; if he hadn’t said that, they might have thought he didn’t want to be around them or was avoiding them whereas he simply couldn’t help trying to get to know Snape’s mother some more.

‘I have a meeting with him in a few days.’ Harry said. ‘It’s going to be weird, being in his office not because I’m in trouble or something.’ He sighed.

Cautiously, Harry glanced at Irma’s back and instantaneously relaxed with a small smile when he realized that his assumption was correct; she’d didn’t pry unless it was a cause for concern, not even if she was highly curious upon the matter. The only exception to this “rule” was any regarding his studies, of course.

‘Would you know how to get on his good side?’ Harry wondered. ‘I mean, you are his mother.’

‘In title only.’ Irma sighed. ‘One I feel undeserving of. I have no tips for you, Harry; his mood is interchanging and based upon more variable than one may even be aware of. Every individual person is different, regardless of being friend or foe.’

‘Great, I’ve got no chance then.’ Harry grumbled under his breath, accidentally causing a blob of ink to drip onto his parchment.

‘I think Snape is very interesting and a little scary.’ Toby reminded them of his invisible presence with his comment.

‘Cuz when bad things happen to someone they’re then really sad. Like Snape, and you Harry. Even Hagrid cuz he can’ t use much magic no more since he was kicked out of second year, and he works at a school filled with everyone else learning magic he can’t do!’ The boy nodded.

‘I’m not sad.’ Harry huffed. ‘Just…I dunno, I guess I would be happier if I hadn’t lost…’ He swallowed as he thought about his parents and Sirius. ‘But so what? It happens all the time to lots of people, that’s not reason to-to be so grumpy all the time like Snape is! It’s like he doesn’t want to be happy.’

‘He was unfamiliar with the emotion for long periods in his life.’ Irma sighed, coming to her son’s defense as she pressed on the guilt that began to remind her of her mistakes once again.

‘His childhood was not full of safety and structure, it was poorly and entwined in misery…yet he had a friend and many dreams he wanted to achieve. The world may have seen less dark to him whilst here at Hogwarts, yes even with the Marauders.’ She prevented Harry’s protests. He shut his mouth instantly.

‘After a while he lost his friend and he simply does not have a great deal of fortune nor opportunities to improve the aspects he despises, therefore he longs to control them instead. Not unlike yourself.’

‘What?’ Harry didn’t consider himself at all controlling and didn’t understand what she was referring to. ‘What do you mean?’

‘If you see a student being bullied, you will likely step in to defend him or her.’ Irma explained some of her observations.

‘Because you had been bullied yourself in the past and know how terrible it feels and how you wished someone had stepped in at your aide.’ She explained with accuracy. ‘See? You deemed there to be no chance in changing the bullying you received whereas you can still stop bullies and defend another from receiving the same ill fate.’

‘I get it now.’ Harry realized that it was true; he saved so many people because he didn’t think he could help himself and yet didn’t want others to go through what he had. He felt doomed and resigned to that fate, even as he fought for the sake of others. It sounded so selfless when phrased that way.

‘Is he like that?’ Harry whispered. ‘I haven’t seen him be nice to anyone, only scowl and favor Slytherins while he punishes Gryffindors for something stupid.’

‘Severus is a Slytherin who was bullied by righteous so-called heroic Gryffindors.’ Irma turned towards him. ‘Think about it.’

And Harry did. It seemed so obvious when she pointed it out; Snape hated Gryffindors not just for the Marauders but because he thought that their treatment of his house deserved retribution while he was also showing the Slytherins that they did have power over those deemed better by them based on their sorting alone.

‘Were you in Ravenclaw?’ Harry smiled at Irma.

She chuckled softly at his reply and shook her head. ‘No. Along with my entire family, I too was sorted into Slytherin.’

Toby perked up at that. ‘The sorting hat said I would probably be in Slytherin!’

‘I don’t doubt that.’ Irma said as she turned back to her books.

Harry sank a little in his chair and sighed, wishing that he wasn’t the third party or intervening company in which was a part of the group yet not belonging. Toby was no longer an orphan, not really, as he had family whereas Harry truly did not. Sure, they pretended to be brothers and now felt like such, but the disappointment remained when Harry didn’t gain a grandmother like the younger boy did. Although that would make Snape his…uncle? Father? Harry shuddered and didn’t think he could handle such a disturbing connection to the man who hated him and yet he was unable to loathe in return.

He knew too much about Snape now and had a deep-seeded respect for him, even if the professor still irked him to no end.

The days passed by with relative ease and Harry was acutely aware of the approaching meeting with Snape.

Dobby and Toby no longer used the Room of Requirement as Irma was content to deal with their company throughout the hours of each day since she was in the library most of the time and somewhat disapproved of the usage of house-elves rather than an actual adult. Although, Harry suspected that had she had the money to pay for an elf many years ago, she would have taken full advantage of having it look after with her son when she had been unable to.

His friends knew he still had something to tell them but Harry saw very little of them in the days leading up to the meeting on the eighth as Hermione had rushed off to study in her dorm and Ron was pre-occupied with Lavender. This left Harry feeling more alone than he ever had at Hogwarts, minus the time he was suspected of opening the Chamber of Secrets in second year. However, unlike it would have any other previous year in his life, Harry took to this new development quite well as he simply sat on his own in the dormitory or outside under the oak tree near the lake with an interesting book.

The parchment roll he’d received from Snape on Christmas remained with him at all times, although he hadn’t used it since. Because now Harry was afraid of getting too close to someone who could never even like him.

And yet, as Gryffindor as he was, Harry could not prevent the lingering urge to snatch a quill and scribble down any question he had or comment he wanted to tell the man. Being careful to avoid the actual roll of parchment, Harry scribbled these notes on the inside of his History of Magic textbook where a pile of unused parchment always resided. It wasn’t as though he’d suddenly take many notes for that class anyway, given the amount of each lesson in which he was busy sleeping through the dull sessions.

It was the day of the eighth and yet time had finally given Harry a sense of balance as time no longer moved at a quick yet uneventful pace as it had been in the past few days. He had two hours until his meeting in the dungeon office and hadn’t a clue how to spent it. He was all on his own, standing a few feet from the edge of the lake as he looked unseeingly at the mountains in the distance. Had it only been a twenty minute wait he might have dared to show up early, yet two hours might not settle too well with the man. Besides, Snape was more likely to label it as arrogance rather than punctuality.

Toby was learning vocabulary with Dobby and Irma in the library, Harry’s friends were elsewhere, his schoolwork was done, and there were no Quidditch practices scheduled for that day. Eying the roll of magical parchment for a brief moment, Harry stood and strode towards the castle with a scowl on his face as he knew exactly how he could spent a solid two hours or so. Dumbledore knew his secret and yet had said nothing, even going as far as to tell it to an unauthorized person who lacked the secret-keeping skills required.

As much as Harry liked Hagrid, those facts remained true.

Facing the gargoyle statue before him, Harry deepened his frown and muttered random names of sweets until “cockroach clusters” did the trick.

Standing on the spiraling staircase, Harry stashed the last of his books into his bag as he waited and then stepped through into the office without bothering to knock. He had simply been too annoyed to put any effort into such politeness, although this time he was lucky and apart from the headmaster himself being seated at his desk and Fawkes resting nearby on the designated perch, the office was empty of additional company.

‘Harry?’ Dumbledore looked over at him with surprised, although it seemed for a moment as though he was trying to recognize him. ‘And what do I owe such an unexpected visit?’

And yet no matter how annoyed Harry may be at the elderly man, his anger ebbed away and he felt a blush creep up his neck for just bursting in on the man.

‘Sorry I didn’t knock, sir.’ Harry said. ‘I wanted to confront you about something.’

‘It is quite alright.’ Dumbledore smiled. ‘I should be thanking you for rescuing me from a rather dull pile of paperwork.’ He chuckled. ‘Now, what may I do for you, Harry? You give me the implication that I have wronged you somewhere along the line; I do hope this is not the case. However, I can see this is not a social visit at all, is something the matter?’

‘Yes.’ Harry went into full ranting mode as the issue boiled inside him again.

‘You know what this is about; don’t pretend that what you did is okay! I’ve tried so hard to make sure everything is okay and that no one finds out.’ He continued. ‘And you’ve know all this time! Not only that, but you went and told Hagrid – you know he’s not the best person to share a secret with! He told Voldemort about how to calm Fluffy, and he spilled to us quite a bit about Nicholas Flamel, as well as that bloody dragon egg!’

Out of steam, Harry stopped pacing and sank heavily into the nearest chair to stare at Dumbledore, all thoughts of matters and respectable conduct washed from his concern as he waited for a response. He had half-expected to be kicked from the room, scolded at or patted on the head and be sent on his way with misinformed falsehood and discreet secret-keeping of the man’s own variety.

The spreading smile on the headmaster’s face was not only unexpected but also rather disquieting, to say the least.

‘Yes, I suspected that the topic of young Toby was likely to emerge within due time.’ Dumbledore nodded as he brushed a hand over his beard and continued to watch Harry with an expression the teenager squirmed in his seat in attempt to avoid.

‘I suspected that had one wished for me to know their most treasured secret than one would simply have approached me with such an honor.’ He said wisely.

‘As for Hagrid, precautions were made on his behalf when I informed him for the safety of the boy. Who would you assume to be most likely to spot the child during his adventures with the house-elf at the less-ventured sections of the grounds, save three people?’

‘But you did know!’ Harry pointed out. ‘I didn’t know you knew about it until Hagrid told me.’ He cared nothing for the precautions, not because he doubted Dumbledore’s ability but because at that moment the fact that matters had been modified to the situation was all he cared for. The rest was mere detail.

‘My own knowing is irrelevant to the fact that you still did not wish for me to know.’ Dumbledore said calmly.

‘I didn’t because I was… Harry paused as he remembered his fears of losing Toby if anyone found out, especially an adult of any kind. ‘I did want to tell you, sir. I just…’

‘You did not trust me.’ Dumbledore did not seem upset by this blunt fact although the twinkle in his eye dimmed considerably.

‘I’m sorry, sir.’ Harry lowered his gaze to where his hands were gripping his knees and sighed.

‘It is quite alright, Harry.’ Dumbledore nodded. ‘Given the circumstances, you may have been correct with any other member of the teaching staff. We have a duty of care, and the fact that a child as young as Toby is under the inexperienced care of an underage student is a matter in which should be addressed immediately.’ Catching the glimpse of startled fear in Harry’s face, Dumbledore held up a calming hand and continued before the teen could object and plead with him upon the issue.

‘Relax, dear boy. I have no intention of removing Toby from your care; I daresay you’ve done an excellent job with the boy, with all things considered.’ The headmaster smiled.

‘As long as things remain the way they are now with his wellbeing and your education, I see no reason to bring to light this situation before its due time.’

‘How did you find out about Toby, sir?’ Harry stared at him, relieved and yet still not quite trusting towards the man who kept his own secret from him for such a period of time.

‘As all-knowing and brilliant many may perceive me to be, I do owe some credit to the magic that is Hogwarts.’ Dumbledore leaned back in his hair and glanced at the portrait of one particular headmaster who was once again feigning sleep.

‘What do you mean?’ Harry wondered if the older wizard took delight in prolonging and riddling everything he said, forcing others to either guess or leave with a stronger state of confusion than what they had started with.

‘As Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, it would be correct to assume that each and every non-student is under my employ here at this school, would you agree?’

‘Yes.’ Harry nodded. He was also certain that his previous theory was indeed accurate.

‘And therefore what of the portraits that hang along every corridor, near every set of stairs, and within every primary room within the entire castle?’ Dumbledore saw Harry beginning to understand as a look of alarm crossed the boy’s face, yet he continued. ‘And what of each of the hundreds of house-elves that clean Hogwarts day and night whose job is to work or heard from all? Or of the ghosts that have no limitations throughout the entire school save five rooms?’ The headmaster nodded.

‘Yes, I have quite a few in my employ who find it within their duty in which to report the strange or out-of-place occurrences within Hogwarts. I suspected Toby’s existence from the moment you stepped foot inside this castle. For a school of mystery and never-ending secrets than some may never discover…you’d be surprised how little those who step inside these walls are revealing to it.’

The astonishing truth hit Harry quite hard as he couldn’t believe he hadn’t realized all of these extra factors before. A part of him wished Dumbledore had offered him a lemon drop (which he would neglect to take, anyway), feed him uninformative half-truths and prod him towards some meaningless conversation before ushering him out of the office. This would have been much better than the sinking understanding that rested in his mind like a frog stuck in a dry pit.

Harry now knew that he had been foolish with his planning but even so it didn’t matter because…his secret had never been safe.

--

And while Harry was in Dumbledore’s office, Toby had managed to convince Irma to let him go outside and then he convinced Dobby into taking him to Hagrid’s rather than their usual spot outside. It had been a while since they had heard from Hagrid regarding the kitten the young boy had saved on Christmas Eve and Toby would wait no longer for the news of its recovery or ill being.

‘Not ter worry!’ Hagrid beamed at him as Toby stepped inside and Dobby vanished although not before they’d all seen a small cat rush to hide behind a large pot covered with a patched quilt.

‘Yeh, ‘e’s a tough fellow.’ Hagrid nodded. ‘Was Just on me way ter tell yeh ‘ow ‘e’s doin’ so well since yeh left ‘im with me.’ He nodded. ‘As yeh can see, ‘e’s as good as new!’

‘Yeah, thanks Hagrid.’ Toby smiled as he carefully reached and lifted the little cat into his arms. ‘Hello, Felix. Do you remember me?’ The boy whispered to it. ‘I saved you and I’m really glad you’re okay.’

‘Yeh named him.’ Hagrid chuckled.

‘Yeah, after the potion known as “liquid luck”, because this little kitten is really lucky.’ Toby smiled as he stroked the purring creature.

‘Yeh not wrong.’ Hagrid grunted with reply.

There was a sharp yet short knock on the door and Toby stared over at it with panic. Harry would have announced himself as would Ron or Hermione, although none of them had any reason to be there right now. Dobby would just have appeared, meaning whoever this visitor was they likely knew nothing of his existence.

Both Toby and Hagrid hoped to keep it that way.

‘I’ll be with yeh in a moment!’ Hagrid called and hushed Toby into a hiding place behind a large crate also covered in a tattered quilt. Toby gulped and clung to Felix, only mildly wishing he could peek over to see who was at the door. His skin felt cold as though he and the cat were back in the snow the moment he heard who he was hiding from.

‘Per’fesser Snape!’ Hagrid was rather surprised to see the Potions Master standing there in his usual black attire. Severus hadn’t visited him since the Slytherin had a little mishap in sixth year and ended up inside his but to calm himself and warm up by the fire.

‘Pardon the intrusion, Hagrid.’ Severus sighed as “good afternoon” did not seem fitting enough as a greeting.

Toby pressed his back carefully against the crate that concealed him and tried to keep his breathing even. No matter what he said in the man’s defense to Harry or the others, the boy was panicked to be near the darker wizard. He also feared Harry’s reaction if Snape was to discover him because of how much his brother seemed to dislike his professor.

Lost in his thoughts, Toby’s grip had loosened on the kitten to the point that when Felix leaped from his arms, he was powerless to stop it.

Severus thanked Hagrid for the matters of importance involving his own Potioneering interests and turned to leave. He paused and glanced over to one corner where a little kitten appeared from behind a crate with mingled sounds of breathing and movement was heard. He knew the fragile creature did not belong to the half-giant but wasn’t concerned as the hut often acted as an animal hospital from time to time. It was the way the kitten approached his leg and purred deeply at it as though it longed to rub its fury face against it yet had the sense not to do so.

As he stared at the olive-coloured eyes of the creature, Severus pulled his cloak tighter and turned to depart the hut without a single glance back.

Once the door was slammed shut by Hagrid’s large hands, Toby hurriedly emerged from his hiding spot and snatched up the kitten. He hugged it tightly for a long moment until the creature meowed in protest as though it was feeling squished.

‘What?’ Toby noticed the odd look Hagrid was giving his cat.

‘Nothin’, jus’…It’s a righ’ odd cat yeh got there, Toby.’ Hagrid nodded. ‘A bit o’ magic in ‘im, no doubt.’

‘Magic? What do you mean?’ Toby looked at Felix who stared back at him. ‘It looks normal enough.’

‘So do yeh.’ Hgrid pointed out and explained while he put on some tea.

‘If I ain’t mistaken, that cat there can sense the goodness in a person. ‘E can tell yeh if a person is trustworthy or nut jus’ by lookin’ at ‘em or bein’ near ‘em.’ He nodded and drifted off into a conversation about creature natures and trust, while Toby stared at the closed doorway of the hut and gasped mutely.

The boy had been unsure before and liked to believe in people but if what Hagrid hand said about Felix was true…

‘Thanks, Felix.’ Toby whispered to the kitten. ‘I know now that Snape’s not bad.’

In fact, the boy was convinced of it and at this point not a single thing in the entire world would be able to make him change his mind. He believed the possible instinct of a kitten over theories based on opinions any day. Now all he had to do was tell Harry that he was wrong, that Snape wasn’t as bad as he thought him to be after all. Because Toby knew Felix was lucky and special…those kinds of combinations didn’t usually lead to inaccurate judgments of character.

Toby truly believed that his father wasn’t bad like the boy’s biological mother had been.

Harry stood in front of the door that was his only physical barrier between himself and Snape’s office and yet he was unable to reach out his fist to knock. Talking to Snape about his mother? It was insane! Yet the man had agreed and even in the delight Snape obviously took in pointing out Harry’s flaws (real ones or not), and otherwise mocking him in any way, the man would surely have never arranged an actual private meeting in which to do so. Therefore, Harry was likely to gain some real knowledge in which he was seeking on his mother.

Even so,there he stood as though the sorting had had been right all along and Gryffindor – the house of bravery – was not the foremost choice for Harry.

Huffing at that note of thought, Harry grit his teeth together and inhaled as he slowly raised his arm and tenderly rapped his knuckles against the wood. For a fleeting moment as he stood there (even though it was nearly four o’clock as agreed upon), the teenager briefly prayed that Snape wasn’t there, or that he had imagined the entire arrangement.

‘Enter.’

Harry was amazed at how such a lone word with only five letters in it and a single tone could have such an impact on his entire composure – or what was left of it, at least. He did not move. He could not move! Behind this door were answers and a very scary man who was the least likely person to give them to Harry. Even so, in a twisted churn of fate…Snape was also the perfect person to tell him anything.

Was his destiny always to be so against him?

Harry sighed and knew that adding a detention to the day was not likely to brighten his mood; he knew he was about to do what had to be done. With the inspiration and cliché of ripping off a band aid, Harry snatched the door handle and yanked it open to quickly step into the office; he exhaled once as he shut the door and gulped a gush of air.

Seated behind the desk directly across from Harry in the dark office the Gryffindor had only seen a few brief times during his time at Hogwarts (despite the trouble that always seemed to find Harry), was Professor Snape.

Severus had expected the brat to march right through his door once he permitted the Gryffindor entrance, ignoring the fact that the boy was almost ten minutes early. Yet as he glanced up when nothing happened, he could not help finding amusement in the sudden yet clearly freaked appearance of the teenager. Ah, so Potter had no idea what to expect from this meeting and was reacting accordingly; good, this would allow Severus a much-needed advantage as he too was quite unsettled by this agreed arrangement.

Fixing a sneer upon his face as it was expected of him, Severus eyed Potter while forcing his own nerves to calm once again.

‘Your entrance is dramatic as always, Mr Potter.’ Severus commented and gestured to the chair positioned across from him with the desk between them.

The boy seemed grateful for the excuse to no longer rely on the wavering strength of his legs. Was the boy really that anxious about finding out a few simple facts about his own mother? Severus couldn’t blame him though, since Potter didn’t know nearly enough about Lily and given the fact that he was the one to tell it…yes, he understood the boy’s reasoning, although it was a tad over-presented.

‘Thank you for doing this, sir.’ Harry said hurriedly. ‘You really didn’t have to.’

‘I am well aware of that fact, Mr Potter.’ Severus narrowed his eyes. ‘Although your premature gratitude is…Noted.’

The silence that filled the office reminded Severus of a time in fourth year when he thought his cauldron had been about to catch fire.

In effort to fill it and evade further memories even as it was unavoidable given the purpose of their meeting, Severus raised his wand (and ignored the teen’s slight flinch at the sight of it), to summon several items. Potter watched the objects eagerly but was discouraged when Severus merely placed them into the depths of his right-hand desk drawer.

Severus rested his elbows on the surface of his desk and weaved his fingers together as he stared at the nervous (yet slightly more anticipating), teenage Gryffindor seated before him. He had prepared himself the best he could by forcing his mind to dismiss the obvious sights of James in the boy in effort to consider Harry as Lily’s son, hence making what was to occur much easier to deal with. Severus had deluded himself of course, because nothing regarding the topic of Lily could ever be easier than the gut-clenching agony of sadness and regret in which it was so tightly consumed by.

‘Sir?’ Harry cleared his throat. ‘You knew my mother, so what was she like?’

Instead of grating the boy for breaking their safe silence and interrupting his occluded thoughts, Severus was rather thankful for the teen taking the first act of progression; otherwise he doubted he could have done anything other than negating their meeting and kicking the teenager out.

‘Yes, I knew Lily.’ Severus sighed heavily.

There was a length of silence between every set of sentences he spoke as he tried to prolong the entire ordeal further; never had he imagined having this kind of a conversation with Potter! Not even in his cruelest nightmares.

‘What do you currently know of her days at Hogwarts?’ Severus needed a starting point as repeating what the boy already knew only added to the amount of time this meeting consumed.

‘Oh um…that she was an exceedingly bright witch and really good at Potions and Charms.’ Harry answered. ‘Slughorn told me that. Remus said she had a way of seeing the beauty in people even when they especially cannot see it themselves.’ He added and Severus had the feeling that the boy had memorized those details. He also could not deny the truth in Lupin’s description because whilst the werewolf was likely speaking of himself, Severus knew it applied to him as well.

‘And then there’s the usual stuff; she was brave, gave everything for those she loved, the sacrifice…’ Harry lowered his gaze sadly and didn’t finish that thought.

‘A hero. Respected witch. Treasured friend…’ Severus frowned. ‘Her only son has such mere details in which one could discover from any historical book within the library here at Hogwarts.’ He shook his head.

‘There was other stuff as well.’ Harry mumbled defensively.

‘And what of James?’ Severus raised an eyebrow. ‘Your knowledge of your blessed, arrogant father is likely to be more prominent than that of your mother.’ He knew he was right when Harry frowned deeply and clutched at the material over his knees with his fists, clearly biting back a retort.

‘I don’t want to talk about my father.’ Harry found his courage as he forced his gaze to meet Snape’s. ‘You never say anything nice about him, anyway.’

‘And do enlightening me, Potter…Is it the truth you seek or a planted image of a perfect person?’ Severus demanded although he already knew the answer.

‘I want the truth.’ Harry was determined with his reply. ‘That’s why I’m here, because…you always tell me the truth, unlike everyone else who just wants me to remember how brilliant my parents were before they died.’

Severus had not been expecting that confession and vowed to stop asking the boy questions lest the Gryffindor reply with something he didn’t want to hear.

‘I have previously informed you that your father was an arrogant, attention-seeking bully, and yet you constantly protest otherwise in a manner much alike his own.’ He sneered.

‘Yeah, well he’s still my father.’ Harry retorted. ‘But…you were telling the truth, I just didn’t want to admit it.’

‘I was under the impression that the purpose of this meeting was solely to discuss Lily.’ Severus hastily changed the subject; his voice seemed perfectly smooth and intentional to Harry as though the entire interaction was planned word-for-word. The boy failed to notice that his professor always avoided referring to Lily as his mother, as though in denial or else not wishing to associate such a woman with such a child.

‘Yes, sir.’ Harry swallowed meekly as his nervousness returned.

‘I know very little of Lily Potter.’ Severus could evade it no longer. ‘However, I knew Lily Evans better than most.’

He noticed the boy’s surprise and couldn’t help the sense of satisfaction that came with dragging on his words as though hoping to make his listener guess what he was trying to say rather than for him to just say it outright; a trait he’d mildly picked up from Dumbledore, no doubt.

‘Being a muggleborn, she did not know she was a witch until…Until a wizard whom lived nearby had told her of such when he saw her using accidental magic.’ Severus revealed without adding the detail that he had been that wizard.

No need to give the boy more information than the brat required.

‘Even then she was curious and studious to the material; reading all of her textbooks before September and constantly asking questions about the magical world, only to form her own theories and opinions that led to further enquires.’ Severus recalled. He fought to sound aloof instead of fond of those less worrisome times in his childhood.

‘Like me.’ Harry smiled as he finally felt he had someone in common with his mother other than her eyes. Had he been looking towards Snape, Harry would have thought he’d said something wrong because of the sharp look the man had given him in return.

‘Well, I found out when Hagrid showed up…but I asked loads of questions and all that.’ Harry said and sighed. ‘Though, I suppose all witches and wizards raised by muggles would be. Hermione was and she also read all the textbooks before coming here too. I tried but wasn’t allowed.’

Severus wondered why the brat was telling him these things as he neither cared nor wanted to hear them. The Gryffindor was being too comfortable and forthcoming around him this year and it unsettled Severus terribly. Surely it was nothing a long round of insults and detentions couldn’t resolve. Perhaps since Har-Potter was the Gryffindor Quidditch captain than having him scrubbing cauldrons while a match was taking place would chase away the frightening thoughts of the boy getting comfortable enough to hug him, as Draco had been rather fond of doing back in his first and second years.

Thank Merlin his godson had grown out of that.

‘It is indeed a rather typical response for a muggle-raised child.’ Severus nodded.

‘However, Lily was even more so. Additionally, you should have been informed of your magical status prior to your eleventh birthday due to the fact that your aunt is well aware of the Wizarding world in which you belong to.’

Not giving the boy a chance to comment, nor wanting to think upon Tuney for a second longer than necessary, Severus continued.

‘Lily and I shared a compartment on the train to Hogwarts in our first year.’ Severus said. ‘Alongside your blasted father and Black.’ His words instantly caught the full magnitude of the boy’s attention in a way that no detention or lesson had been able to bring about.

It was rather ironic yet maddening to the professor.

‘Is that when you started hating the Marauders?’ Harry asked while he had the chance to speak. He inched back in his seat at the glare he received from Snape in response to his words.

‘No, Potter.’ Severus spat. ‘And I certainly do not appreciate your assumptions upon the matter. For your information, that moment was when they began to despise me.’

‘Why?’ Harry whispered. James and Sirius had been the ones to start the rivalry? No! Surely it wasn’t true…Snape must have provoked them just as Malfoy had to him.

Well, sort of.

‘Lily and I were discussing which houses we ought to be sorted into upon arrival.’ Severus straightened slightly in his chair. ‘Naturally, I preferred Slytherin whereas your father disagreed.’ At the unjustified expression on the boy’s face, Severus rolled his eyes.

‘We were children, Potter. What did you expect?’

‘It’s the same stuff even then.’ Harry frowned. ‘Slytherin against Gryffindor; probably had something to do with my dad being from a long line of Gryffindors and you from Slytherins.’ He grumbled.

‘But what happened? Did you lot get into a fight or something? What did mum do? I bet she thought it was a rather silly thing to fight over as well.’

‘She did.’ Severus said slowly with narrowed eyes. ‘We left the compartment shortly after a few choice names were exchanged.’

‘Oh.’ Harry fell silent as he understood the meaning behind that phrase. So they had called Snape that horrid nickname, even then.

‘What was her sorting like?’

‘It was much like Draco Malfoy’s own sorting, as you may recall.’ Severus replied. ‘The hat declared her house long before it was even placed properly atop her head.’ He elaborated and watched the way the teen’s shoulders hunched with disappointment.

‘And my father’s sorting?’ Harry wondered. ‘What was that like?’

‘Lily is the focus of this meeting and so it shall remain.’

Severus decided to spare the boy of the fact that James had been sorted rather quickly as well, although he’d heard rumors that the hat had used those extra few seconds to contemplate Hufflepuff; hardly, as if the git could ever understand fairness and hard work.

‘During her years at Hogwarts, Lily was a model student yet not an annoying know-it-all like Granger.’ Severus rolled his eyes. ‘You were informed that she had a talent for Charms and Potions, whereas she properly exceeded in all of her classes apart from History of Magic and Divination.’

Harry smirked at that; he hated despised those classes as well, mostly because he had no interest in them whatsoever.

‘You wished to know not of how who she was following graduation nor the finer details of her time as a student, correct?’ Severus bought time by verifying.

The boy nodded in response, far too quickly for his liking; was there still a chance to toss the Gryffindor from his office?

‘As a person, Lily was indeed considerate and sought the evidence of goodness in everyone she met regardless of their backgrounds or attitudes.’ Severus swallowed and lowered his gaze to a random spot on his desk. Where had that scratch mark come from? He really ought to spell it away later, along with that ink stain.

‘She also had a temper, one that flared over any form of injustice.’ Severus hated to admit that perhaps her son had inherited such a trait also. ‘And her loyalty was befitting to any Hufflepuff…she would have belonged into that house with ease. Everyone liked her and she got along with most of them, although Lily only had a few select friends.’ Severus paused and glanced at the clock, deciding that he’d said enough; it had been a whole hour!

‘Was my dad one of them?’ Harry asked. ‘And did she ever play Quidditch?’

‘Lily and your father were enemies until sixth year.’ Severus frowned and swallowed again as the emotions he had been wary of from the beginning finally burst into his awareness.

‘And whilst she enjoyed the sport as well as being rather adequate on a broomstick, no, Lily did not join the Gryffindor Quidditch team for the entire duration of her time at Hogwarts.’

‘I heard my parents were Head Boy and Girl.’ Harry sensed that their session was coming to a close and still he longed for more knowledge.

‘Yes.’ Severus said in a very low, tense tone that suggested a hidden meaning in which Harry was unable to decipher.

There was no way the boy could know that the first time Severus had realized that Lily had chosen James was when he’d walked by a prefect meeting room to see Lily and James kissing, their head boy/girl badges simmering in the sunlight.

‘Thanks, sir.’ Harry actually smiled at Severus, bringing a startling end to the man’s memories as he stared at the boy.

‘I just wanted to know those things, like that she had a temper or the stuff she didn’t like…because no one cares about those things yet I didn’t know any of it.’ He knew better than to push his luck and got to his feet, preparing to depart before Snape came up with a reason to give him a detention after all.

Severus inhaled a breath as though his previous amount of oxygen had been tainted. He narrowed his eyes at the teenager before him and nodded his head shortly.

‘You are her son, I merely informed you of such mediocre details in which you should already know.’ He admitted.

‘Still, you did and no one else bothered. Thanks.’ Harry sighed. ‘Oh, but sir…The wizard who told my mum she was a witch, was he a student too?’

‘Yes.’ Severus wondered why the boy cared about that throwaway comment.

‘Did they ever become friends?’ Harry speculated as he turned towards the door and was clearly about to leave the moment he received an answer.

Severus stared at the teenager for a long moment and lowered his gaze as he stood upright and nodded.

‘They were friends until their fifth year when he mistakenly refered to her by a horrid, undeserving name. She never forgave him and therefore they were friends no longer.’ He never raised his eyes to meet the boy’s again; Severus could not dare to as they likely revealed too much.

Harry said nothing as he realized what that information meant because the connection was unmistakable. Snape had told his mother that she was a witch and they’d rode the train together…They’d been friends.

‘Thanks again, sir.’

Severus frowned as he remembered something and decided to voice it in order to be rid of such memories. ‘How is it that your came across the knowledge that I am descended from a long line of Slytherins? I do not recall mentioning-’ He glanced up to glare at the boy just in time to catch Harry darting from the office.

Bloody Potter!

--

Harry hadn’t taken notice of anyone he strode past as he marched through the corridors with his head bent as though trying to conceal himself from the sights of others, which his now-lengthily hair assisted with.

He recently knew why Snape never really had a haircut.

Gasping as he burst outside and stared up at the welcomed sunlight, Harry hurried across the grounds until he reached the oak tree he had seen Snape sitting under in the memories he’d unintentionally witnessed in the previous year. Purposefully seating himself in the same spot, Harry snatched a textbook from his bag, a quill, some ink and that all-important roll of parchment.

 He unfurled it enough to write something although his quill tip never touched parchment. What could he say? Snape didn’t know he was S.J.E and most of what needed to be said had occurred in their meeting only moments previous.

Contemplating what he’d learned, Harry wondered if there was no limit to the amount of knowledge he gained in which could constantly change his views of the man he had once considered his enemy. He knew more about his mother, which made him smile and Harry couldn’t wait to share the details with Toby later. However it was the things involving Snape that had capture the majority of his attention and considerations.

He wondered why Petunia had never mentioned his mother having a “freaky” friend who lived in their area. It wasn’t saying much since she never spoke of her sister at all, other than to lie to him about his parents dying in a car crash or those basic details of how his grandparents had reacting to having a witch in the family.

And then there was Snape’s own mother…Irma also hadn’t told him that she’d known his mother, that they’d lived nearby and how her son had been friends with her for at least seven or eight years. Or perhaps she had indicated towards such, having mentioned a friend he’d had but lost.

It was surprising and oddly interesting that Snape had been friends with his mother before they even went to Hogwarts and remained so for more than half of their schooling, yet the more Harry thought about it the sadder the story became. Yes, they had been friends but a single dreadful name had been unforgiven and it all came to a halt. He couldn’t understand how someone as considerate, understanding and open-minded as his mother could possibly ditch one of her long-time and childhood friends simply because he’d called her something nasty while he was being humiliated and laughed at.

It confused Harry and didn’t make enough sense because even if someone had done that to him, given the length of friendship and the understanding they would’ve had for each other with their backgrounds and such, he had no doubt that after a period of cooling down, he’d have forgiven his friend also.

Perhaps there was something he was missing? Maybe Snape never apologized or their friendship was already heading to ruin from a series of other events he didn’t yet know of?

Even so, Harry was unable to wrap his mind over the fact that despite what Snape might have done, ultimately it was his mother’s inability to forgive him that caused the consequences of their broken friendship that followed. Irma had implied that Snape fell deeper into the dark side because of losing his friend to another and than losing her to death.

Harry lowered his gaze to the parchment and decided on something he could write. It was brought about by what he remembered Dumbledore saying during their confrontation earlier that day, in which he had sought more information in relation to it.

<blockquote>I heard a rumor that there are rare and interesting potion ingredients towards the back and less-ventured areas of the Hogwarts grounds.

Would they be worth collecting to use in any potion that may require them or would they be too dangerous to come into contact with?</blockquote>

Yes, Potions was a great distraction right now.

He waited for a reply but none came. Deciding that Snape must be busy; Harry collected his things into his bag and stared up at the partially cloudy sky through the gaps in the tree branches above him. He had waited and dreaded the eighth of January and now that it had come and gone, generally it hadn’t been so bad.

Harry had learned quite a lot.

And suddenly as he pondered further on the date and what classes he had tomorrow, Harry snatched his bag and jumped to his feet. He ran all the way back to the castle and ignored the odd glances he received from a few other students around him. Diving under the bed in his dormitory (thankfully, Toby was once again preoccupied with Dobby and Irma in the library), Harry snatched at his trunk that wasn’t normally stored there. He grasped an object from it and bit his lip, unsure if he should go through with it. He decided that since he had gone to the effort and cost than he might as well follow through with his plan ever since he had heard Irma mention the important time of year in which it would soon be.

Moments later, Harry skidded into the dungeon corridor and almost forgot to knock as he reached the office door once again.

Severus glanced up from his desk as he was pulled from his memories and thoughts by the very boy who had brought about the majority of his contemplative mood. All he could see was the mop of lengthy dark hair, accompanied by glasses and emerald eyes that peered into the room.

‘I almost forgot,’ Harry said quickly. ‘Happy Birthday for tomorrow, sir!’ The teen placed a small parcel on the ground and once again vanished from the office.

By the time Severus had reached the door, the corridor outside it was utterly vacant. His obsidian eyes slowly narrowed to the small parcel as he snapped the door shut and locked it. Severus waved his wand to check for any likely pranks or hexes before he tenderly reached for it and placed it upon his desk.

Inside the drawer of his desk were pictures of Lily and various pieces of her belongings as a child, yet he had not been able to bring himself to give them to the boy; Severus didn’t dare part with them. And now, as he stared at the green wrapping paper and sparkling silver bow of the box that only just fit on his open palm, Severus thought he ought to give the boy a photo or two, and maybe a small keepsake as well.

Not bothering to follow tradition and wait until morning, Severus began to slowly pull away the wrapping of the gift; in case he ought to to hand out many punishments to the boy the next day.

As the last layer fell off the box, Severus cautiously lifted the lid and glanced inside, fully prepared to aim his wand at it if anything so much as moved or breathed. Suspense building, he tugged the lid free and examined the content inside the box in which had been left for him as a birthday present from Harry Potter.

He reached inside the box to lift it onto his palm and examine it. It didn’t appear to be very fancy as it was a perfectly moulded silver cauldron the size of a plum, and yet Severus knew better. It was simply ornamental to those who didn’t know that one could pour a bit of any potion inside and it would never be destroyed, although it would emit steam or change colour if left too long. Also one could mix two potions together – even deadly toxins or with unstable ingredient combinations – inside the tiny cauldron and not only would it remain undamaged, but the liquid also never spilled and therefore would contain the mixtures until the concoction was vanished or began to evaporate on its own.

As a child, these had first come into stock and Severus could never afford one. Over time it was a lost wish and he hadn’t thought upon it again. He wasn’t sure if Harry knew of its hidden delightful properties that any Potion Master could enjoy or use to safely experiment with, or if the boy simply got it because it looked nice and suitable enough for its designated recipient; unlikely, given its worth.

And for a moment, as Severus sat in his chair and continued to stare at the little object on his open palm, he felt nine-years-old again without the urge to shove such memories away because he felt no ache of remorse or longing. Staring intently at the silver cauldron, Severus recalled a redhead friend he had a long time ago who had been the only other person he’d met to love Potions almost as much as he did.

His recollections shifted to bring forth an image of her son; her little eleven-year-old boy who walked through the Great Hall for the first time with an equal look of awe and innocence that his mother always had about her whenever she saw or used magic; even when she’d reached the age of fifteen. The child who hadn’t got to know how wonderful his own mother had been…A boy Severus no longer loathed, hated, disliked, nor dismissed, as he closed his fingers over the small gift.

A rare smile spread across his face as Severus cherished his first real birthday present since he himself had been sixteen.

It had always been a shadow in Harry’s life; lingering and impacting where it didn’t belong. But with the past few months being so heavily focused on Toby, its existence had begun to fade from Harry’s immediate concern.

Lord Voldemort was still out there and it was Harry’s destiny to destroy him; neither can live while the other survives.

His worst dreams (such as the particularly dark ones on the first night of the New Year), had been of dulled screams, paled eyes, an odd archway, and flashes of deadly green. That night barely two weeks into January, Harry’s subconscious was reminded yet again of the horror that filled his waking life. His mother pleaded for her baby’s life; Cedric never had a chance to even fight back against his murderer; And Sirius Black fell but never landed through an archway that separated him from life itself.

Then there was Voldemort’s cruel, gleeful laughter moments before Harry awoke in a cold sweat.

Harry opened his eyes as the flash of green he had just seen once again clouded his gaze for a moment until he was able to take in the darkened surroundings of the Gryffindor dormitory. His pillow and pajamas were drenched as he sat upright and swallowed deeply.

When he’d been having those dreams nearly every night he had formed an adaption to them in the sense that he could gather himself quicker afterwards. But it had been so long that it felt as though he’d just relived all of his horrible memories all at once. He was half-tempted to check if there was a Dementor in the room.

Looking over at the small form that was tucked under the blankets at Ron’s side, Harry instantly felt guilty. While he hadn’t endured such a horrible nightmare all school year until now, he’d still had his share of darker ones such as the New Year’s Day. Because of it he decided to explain to Toby that sometimes he got upset in his sleep but that he shouldn’t worry because it was okay once he awoke. It had tasted slightly of a lie, but Harry wanted to avoid upsetting the small boy every time he had a nightmare in case it resulted in the same for Toby.

The six-year-old had taken to it well and accepted the advice that should he ever be woken by such an occurrence than he was to seek the bed of another right away, preferably Ron as his redheaded friend had more understanding of these nightmares than anyone.

And it appeared as though tonight Toby had done exactly that.

Harry rubbed his hand over his wet eyes and rose from the bed to cast a drying charm on it and headed to the bathroom in case he needed to clean up, hurl, or otherwise calm himself before he returned to his bed.

Normally Harry envisioned that he would never be able to get back to sleep after such a restless event and yet Irma’s words from a decent time ago returned to his memory and he decided to try it. He went to the common room to not wake anyone by calling Dobby and requesting half a glass of cold milk with exactly three squeezes of lemon juice.

As he waited for the elf to happily fulfill his request, Harry’s mind tried to think of random subjects that had nothing to do with any of the deathly images he had just relived in his slumber. His mind shifted through many different things, such as what he’d heard about his mother, how he thought of Snape compared to the previous five years, if Toby was beginning to favor Irma over him, who Mildred Merrengold was, if he should really let Toby keep that kitten, the conversation Remus and Snape had shared during Slughorn’s Christmas party…

‘Here is your milk with three drops of lemon juice, Master Harry Potter sir.’ Dobby appeared and offered the half-full (or half-empty), glass.

‘Thanks, Dobby. That’s all I needed.’ Harry smiled and the elf disappeared.

Sighing, the teen returned to his dormitory and settled himself in his bed before he reached for the glass he’d placed on his nightstand and paused. It was not mere hesitation towards the likely disgusting mixture he was about to consume (really, it couldn’t be worse than some of the potions he’d had to force down!), but because something had just occurred to him.

Reaching with one hand to touch his face, Harry realized that he had not replaced his glasses on his face and yet he could see his blurring glass better than he’d have been able to four years ago. He had thought the darkness of the room had been the cause of the difficulty to see since nothing blurred to the extent that it usually did without his glasses.

Shaking those thoughts aside, Harry gulped down the entire contents of the glass, placed it onto the surface beside his bed and waited for the churning of his stomach in which he had expected to follow.

It wasn’t half bad.

In fact, it did make him rather drowsy as Harry lay back down and closed his eyes. Within minutes the teenager couldn’t react with astonishment to the success that was a result of what Irma had suggested, because he had returned to his slumber. This time void of the images and screams he had endured before, at least for several more hours until the sun began to rise and once again Harry jerked awake. Even so, he felt rather well-rested and decided to get up and dress in preparation for the day. He also couldn’t believe that he hadn’t noticed until now that in nearly five months Dumbledore had not approached him regarding the war against Voldemort and hadn’t even alluded to the fact that it was still going on.

If Harry was supposed to destroy Voldemort then why hadn’t Dumbledore began training him for it, or filled him in on the details he had partially promised? Harry made a mental note to find out as soon as possible.

The dormitory was still rather quiet as Harry put on his shoes and tucked away his wand. He stood and glanced at Toby once again; they hadn’t spent a lot of time with each other apart from the night on the eighth where they sat up talking about Lily and what Harry had found out about the boy’s father, Severus Snape.

‘Where are you going?’ The child’s sleepy voice whispered to him from Ron’s bed where the redhead snored softly.

‘I have to speak with Professor Dumbledore.’ Harry said the first thing that came to mind as he wanted a moment to himself and couldn’t outright tell Toby not to come as the boy might take it the wrong way and feel as though he wasn’t welcome.

Once the boy had accepted his answer with a yawn, Harry turned and left the room, deciding that he may as well go through with what he had told Toby and headed for the gargoyles that guarded the headmaster’s office.

‘Chocolate frogs.’ He said the password.

Harry was glad that via his own request, Dumbledore now kept him well-informed of all changes to the password should Harry ever need to speak with him socially or in an emergency, as long as he always knocked from now onwards.

Knocking dutifully, Harry waited until he was invited inside before he opened the door and stepped through.

‘Ah, good morning, Harry!’ Dumbledore smiled at him. ‘I see you are making noble use of my door these days. And what do I owe this early-morning visit? I trust things are still well with young Toby?’

‘He’s fine.’ Harry sighed as he crossed the room and sat on the chair before the headmaster had a chance to offer it to him.

‘I need to talk to you about Voldemort.’ He said seriously.

‘I see, and have you had another vision?’ Dumbledore asked while he shuffled a small stack of papers on his desk as though the topic was merely leaning towards failed grades or some other school-related issue.

‘No, sir,’ Harry realized his words to be true. ‘None.’

‘I’m pleased to hear that.’ Dumbledore nodded. ‘I was rather concerned when your Occlumency lessons the previous year had met an unfortunate end. And what is this matter regarding Voldemort in which you wish to discuss? Has something happened?’

‘That’s exactly it.’ Harry frowned. ‘Nothing’s happened. It’s like…I don’t know really, but I thought after the prophecy and the truth coming out that you’d- well, we haven’t even talked about it since then, sir.’

‘I was beginning to wonder when we’d reach this matter of concern, though I sincerely hope it has not taken you this length of time in which to notice it.’ Dumbledore actually looked more amused than disappointed, much to Harry’s relieve as he had indeed only recently detected such facts.

‘Sorry, sir.’

‘No matter, no matter!’ Dumbledore waved a dismissive hand in a manner a little like Slughorn usually did. ‘I had envisioned that given your extra responsibilities and detractions lately that such a thing may occur with someone whose mind is as young and innocent as your own.’ He nodded.

‘As for Lord Voldemort, I am yet to approach you with such matters because I do not believe you to be destined for such a fight.’

‘You don’t, sir?’ Harry raised an eyebrow at the headmaster as he found this to be incredibly difficult to believe, given their last conversation the previous year that had involved the destruction of the man’s office.

‘No, Harry, I do not.’ Dumbledore glanced at his bowl of lemon drops as though thinking upon either eating one or offering them to Harry. ‘And everything is going relatively to plan; there is no need for your further assistance at the current time.’

‘But I want to help!’ Harry stood to his feet, disbelief and annoyance marking his features. ‘I want to fight, I need to do something! He killed my parents and Cedric. I can’t just do nothing.’

‘No one expects you to do nothing, Harry.’ Dumbledore smiled.

‘I am well aware of the crimes Lord Voldemort has committed against you. It has caused you great pain and loss…however it is no longer in your duty in which to fight this war alone.’

Harry sank into the seat again and realized the lack of twinkle in the man’s eyes, the stern gaze and unnaturally firm tone he used as he spoke somewhat out of character. Pausing for a moment, Harry was almost tempted to demand proof that this was really the headmaster telling him not to lead the battle against Voldemort, not to take the ultimate stand and do as the prophecy foretold; to become the hero he was destined to be.

Something wasn’t right…and suddenly Harry had the unsettling feeling that he was being lied to.

‘Perhaps in the past I should have listened to those who suggested we should treat you as any other student who sets foot inside these walls.’ Dumbledore exhaled and sounded unnaturally old as he continued in a softer voice, his gaze not meeting Harry’s.

‘But you are special Harry, no one can deny that, especially as you’ve saved this school and others not only by offering hope when you survived the killing curse as a toddler but also in each year you spent at Hogwarts.’

‘I didn’t mean to.’ Harry defended himself even as Dumbledore was in no way accusing him of any misadventure. ‘I just had to do something. I had to stop him.’

‘I am well aware of this, Harry.’ Dumbledore sighed.

‘I merely wished that you did not have to receive further pain as a consequence for doing the rightfully brave thing. That is why this year I decided to give you a more normal school year and allow your mind to drift not to Death Eaters and fighting, but instead to homework and enjoying your time with any number of friends.’

‘That concept didn’t work last year.’ Harry pointed out.

‘No, it did not.’ Dumbledore agreed. ‘However, I have learned from such an error of judgment and adapted to simply letting this unfold as they may.’

‘You’re doing nothing?’ Harry gasped. ‘But what about Voldemort, the Order, and the war?’

‘Relax, dear boy!’ Dumbledore raised a hand to calm him. ‘That is all being taken care of.’ He nodded.

‘Now if you please, it is almost time for breakfast and I feel quite ready for a good feed before I start the day.’ He smiled and walked Harry out of the office.

Harry stood a few feet from the gargoyle as he watched the headmaster walk out of sight as the usual joyfully wise man he was known to be. Harry knew that look though; the one he had been given during their discussion…the headmaster was lying to him in effort only to protect him from further danger and responsibilities.

Turning, Harry spotted blackness at the end of the corridor and for a brief moment reverted back to his usual instinct of flinching when he saw Snape approaching him. Until he remembered that Snape was in the Order, Snape was a supposed Death Eater, and someone who knew Dumbledore quite well.

Was this how things were going to be now? For Harry to seek Snape for more answers than he ever could from Dumbledore or anyone else? Who were his true friends and which ones were mere allies; Harry wasn’t so sure anymore.

‘Potter.’ Severus narrowed his eyes at him and was about to comment on how it was unusual to see him wandering the castle so early, but wasn’t given the chance to say a single word further.

‘Sir, I need to ask you something important.’ Harry glanced around for eavesdroppers, something Severus quickly noticed.

Narrowing his eyes with suspicion, he placed a privacy charm around them and inclined his head to the odd Gryffindor.

‘Go on.’ He encouraged.

‘How are things going with the war?’ Harry asked.

Severus raised his gaze past the boy to observe the gargoyle in the background and his mind began to work with the facts he was presented with. Instead of dismissing the boy, he took the matter quite seriously as he glanced back down and replied.

‘It would be assumed that should someone such as yourself desire information regarding the war then one would simply approach the headmaster.’ Severus said.

They each knew he was referring to the fact that Dumbledore is more likely to tell Harry anything he should know.

‘I presume he has denied your request and therefore rather than respecting the decision of a capable adult, you have begun meddling for answers elsewhere?’

‘He did something worse.’ Harry frowned back and fought back the urge to react to the insults.

‘He lied to me. See!’ He pointed as even Snape had not been able to contain his surprise quick enough for Harry not to notice it.  ‘Even you agree it’s strange.’

‘That the headmaster delivered you false information in the fallible effort to keep you out of trouble? Hardly,’ Severus rolled his eyes. ‘I am merely interested in the fact that you would be able to spot such a lie distributed by an expertly experienced manipulator and leader such as Albus Dumbledore.’

‘I see it all the time.’ Harry shrugged and didn’t understand what the big deal was.

‘Hermione lies to Ron about how hard an assignment is otherwise he won’t do it until right before the lesson. Hagrid lies about the danger of the creatures in his class because he wants us to like them and understand them just as he does. Neville lies about the amount of effort he puts into his work because he fears that he won’t meet expectations if anyone knew.’ Harry revealed as Severus listened intently, unable to believe what the boy was saying and the ease in which the Gryffindor could not only spot a lie but fully comprehend the reasoning behind it.

‘McGonagall lies about how serious she takes rule-breaking because she doesn’t want to encourage it and also it wouldn’t go too well if anyone thought her not capable of handling any situation. Trelawney lies about some of her predictions because she doesn’t want people to think she hasn’t got enough talent in the subject she teaches. Draco lies about being so hateful to everyone because it’s how he was raised. And Dumbledore, Mrs Weasley, Remus, and Slughorn constantly lie about loads of stuff because they think I’m safer not knowing; that if I don’t know something than I’ll let it go and move on to not give a damn about what’s happening out there!’ Harry snapped as he let off a little steam.

‘Maybe it wasn’t my right to know about the Philosopher’s Stone, or the Chamber of Secrets, but I have to face him and how can I have any ideas how to do that if no one tells me anything!’

Giving the boy a moment to calm himself, Severus crossed his arms and stared down at the Gryffindor as he spoke.

‘And pray tell, who informed you that it was your duty alone in which to face the Dark Lord, Mr Potter?’

‘Dumbledore,’ Harry answered. ‘You know that.’

‘Yet Dumbledore has equipped you with neither the knowledge nor tools in which should enable you to do so.’ Severus reasoned.

‘He’s different somehow.’ Harry added. ‘Dumbledore always wanted me to take a stand and now he’s suddenly telling me to have a normal year and that I’ve done enough. And all this has happened right after what went on at the Ministry…something’s not right, sir.’

‘I agree that is it unnatural, Potter.’ Severus sighed. ‘However, it is neither your concern nor your duty to trouble yourself with the decisions of others; should you require such details than there is no doubt that someone would provide you with them.’

‘I think that’s the first real lie you’ve ever told me.’ Harry scowled. ‘And it’s a load of utter rubbish.’

‘Watch. Your. Tone. Mr Potter.’ Severus growled as he glared at the annoying brat. ‘And I can hardly see how you may consider that a lie.’

‘Sirius said something about my dad before he died.’ Harry returned the expression and tone with slight effort.

‘No one will tell me anything and I have to right to know what my godfather said about my father! Tonks isn’t saying anything and Remus told me to ask you.’ He confessed; he was too annoyed to take much notice of what he was saying.

‘Since it’s involving me and my family than that contradicts what you said because no one has told me a bloody thing!’ He briefly shouted the last part as increased frustration won through.

Severus reached out and snatched the front of the teenager’s robes, startling the boy even as the Gryffindor stood firm and glared back at him with more hesitation than before.

‘You are not required to know of such possibilities and therefore I do not appreciate being called a liar.’ Severus hissed. ‘What Black said was in the form of righteous rambling in which cannot possibly hold justifiable evidence or reasonable consideration.’

‘What did he say?’ Harry asked eagerly, despite himself and the way he was currently being grasped.

‘Were you not listening?’ Severus shoved the boy away with enough force that the Gryffindor stumbled backwards although he did not fall.

‘It is none of your concern at present time. It was merely an insufferable matter involving your potential removal from the useless care of your muggles relatives.’

‘Why are you the only one who tells me anything?’ Harry pouted. ‘You hate me.’

Severus retreated a few steps as he calmed himself and stared back at the boy for a short moment.

‘I care nothing for your safety and well-being; therefore I see no need in concealing such facts in order to spare your…feelings.’

‘Now THAT is a lie,’ Harry huffed.

‘What about during my first Quidditch match with the counter-curse? Or when the werewolf was coming after us - you shielded my friends and me without hesitation. And you guarded Barty Crouch Junior at wandpoint without really being told too when it could have compromised your position with Voldemort had he found out? Why would you do all of that if not to…?’ He frowned.

 ‘I don’t believe you’d do anything just because you’re ordered to either, so don’t say it was because of Dumbledore.’

‘You are under the impression that I was about to reveal anything to you.’ Severus smirked a little.

‘My motives are none of your business and therefore you are not required to know.’ He said as he gathered his robes about him and paused to glance at the boy for a lingering moment.

‘And…I do not hate you, Mr Potter.’ Severus turned to stride away from Harry, removing he privacy charms as he did so.

‘I get it now.’ Harry whispered to himself. ‘Lies are simple and more able to control a reaction, whereas the truth is hard and raw.’

He sighed as he stared at the stone beneath his feet, deep in thought about the things he felt kept out of and those who had ever lied to him in which he’d known about.

‘But still…’ Harry stared over at the disappearing form of Snape. ‘I’d take the painful truth over a blissful lie any day. Lies don’t protect anyone, less of all me.’

‘I agree.’ A voice said nearby and Harry spun around to see Draco Malfoy leaning against a wall just around the corner.

‘Don’t fret, Potter…I only heard your little muttering after Professor Snape had already left.’ He smirked at the panicked look on the Gryffindor’s face.

‘What is it this time, Malfoy?’ Harry frowned.

‘You want the truth?’ Draco approached him with a serious yet amused expression. ‘I can help you there.’

‘Oh yeah?’ Harry scoffed. ‘And you expect me to believe that? Besides, why would you even care?’

‘Who said anything about caring?’ Draco snorted. ‘Are all Gryffindors are as dim-witted as you? I’m not offering to become your spy or messenger; I merely thought you’d like to know a few things no one else is telling you.’

‘Why?’ Harry repeated.

‘What sort of things?’ He couldn’t help it as no one else was letting him in on anything he should know and if Draco knew even the smallest extra detail, than he had to hear him out.

Although he didn’t think he could take the Slytherin’s word for it.

‘Easy there, you didn’t think I’d do this for free, did you?’ Draco rolled his eyes.

‘Forget it.’ Harry turned to leave, convinced that anything his would-be rival asked of him wouldn’t be worth something that may be true.

‘Suit yourself, Potter.’ Draco sounded a bit annoyed by the refusal. ‘I don’t make the same offer twice and this may save your life.’

Turning on the spot, Harry glared at the Slytherin and shook his head.

‘Look, either you tell me what it is or I’ll be on my way. I don’t have time to listen to your list of demands for something that may not even be true. You still haven’t told me why you’re even offering to tell me, if it really is anything.’

Draco approached him with a smirk, seeing this as a sign of wavering on Harry’s behalf.

‘I know a few things that could help you survive in this bloody war, or at least not drop dead in the first second. All I ask in return is a little bit of information.’

‘Why do you want me to live?’ Now Harry was very confused and suspicious. ‘Aren’t you on his side? I know your parents are Death Eaters, Draco.’ He scowled and then paused.

‘What information?’

‘I didn’t say anything about you winning, did I?’ Draco rolled his eyes.

‘I want to know now to get into the Chamber of Secrets and where the entrance is; it’s only fitting, seeing as I’m Slytherin and you’re not.’ He straightened and tugged at his collar to adjust it.

 ‘I don’t expect you to let up on those details for free either, which is the only reason I’m making this offer at all.’

‘And how do I know you’re telling the truth?’ Harry said slowly.

‘You can research it, or at least ask Granger to as it seems to be all she’s good for.’ He sneered.

‘Well? Do we have an accord?’ Draco held out his hand in a manner that mirrored their first real interaction when he’d offered his hand of friendship to Harry, only to be declined back in their first year.

Harry stared at the extended hand for a moment and thought upon his options. If it was indeed something that could be researched than perhaps it could be checked upon and all in exchange for giving the Slytherin access to a place previously only he could enter. It might be useful later and if Harry allowed the son of Death Eaters to know how to get in then it’s refuge possibility would be dashed.

‘Look.’ Draco moved his hand to pull up the sleeve of his left arm, revealing nothing but bare skin.

‘No Dark Mark.’

‘Not yet at least.’ Harry frowned back although he had been expecting to see the Mark branded there upon the blonde’s forearm.

‘And how about if you tell me now than I’ll let you know how to get into the Chamber of Secrets after the war? That way I can check you’re telling the truth and you won’t use it for your own purpose.’

He had expected Draco to decline right away and start insulting him as per usual; instead the other boy chuckled and rolled his eyes.

‘It’s not that bloody important, the chamber, I mean.’ He thought about it for a moment and nodded.

‘Alright, that ought to be the agreement on one condition. You make the Unbreakable Vow. This is assuming you actually live through the war, so really I may never know the easy way of getting what I want; I think you’re getting the better end of the deal.’

Harry did not like the idea of making such a magically binding arrangement with Draco Malfoy, and yet the blonde seemed serious if he was willing to go that far.

Pondering his choices, Harry nodded.

‘Fine.’

‘It’s settled then, Potter.’ Draco smirked. ‘I’ll send you an owl with the details. I know you’re likely to go blabbing to Weasley and Granger about this so at least make sure no one else hears of it, understand?’

‘I know how to keep a secret, Draco.’ Harry frowned.

‘Yeah, I’d say.’ Draco said cryptically as he turned and strode off in the opposite direction that Snape had minutes earlier.

As Harry turned and left the corridor, heading in the direction of the Great Hall, he wondered if he had just agreed to something that could end very badly…it could all be a really big mistake.

As February neared closer, Harry still hadn’t heard from Draco nor had he gathered the courage to even tell his friends about the arrangement.

In fact, there were quite a few things Harry was still yet to reveal to his two supposed best friends. Not that it mattered too much as he hardly ever saw either of them as often as he’d like, apart from the classes in which they shared. Ron and Hermione still weren’t really talking to each other with the exception of the occasional times they hushed a question or two and shared odd looks if they thought Harry was acting strangely or hinting to something they didn’t understand.

And Harry’s grumpier mood (brought on by the return of his nightmares that made him more irritable than usual when tired from the lack of restful sleep), had returned in full force, which didn’t entirely help the matters with his friends.

‘You need a haircut.’ Hermione commented as she walked to Potions with him following the end of lunch.

‘My hair is fine.’ Harry grumbled as he reached up to further flatten it. ‘I trim it every now and again.’ He added.

It was indeed a lot shorter than he had let it become in the last couple of months or so. Now his hair was still near his ears yet not quite as curtaining as before.

‘And Toby misses you.’ Hermione said sadly. ‘You barely spend much time with him anymore; wasn’t that part of the point of having him around?’

‘No!’ Harry snapped. ‘He’s safer here and I do so spend time with him. I have classes, I have to eat, I have a war approaching, and on top of that I sometimes can’t sleep because of the nightmares.’ He ranted. ‘So I’m sorry if I can’t devote an entire hour to staring at the kid drawing random pictures of things I don’t even understand!’

‘There’s no need to take that tone with me!’ Hermione scolded back.

‘You’re right, sorry.’ Harry sighed.

‘But it’s true, I’m not cut out for this parenting stuff, I just wish his grandmother wasn’t so…’ He stopped talking and halted in the dungeon corridor when he realized his slip of information.

‘His grandmother?’ Hermione stared wide-eyed at him and lowered her tone to a whisper. ‘What are you talking about? Did you find Toby’s family? Who are they?’

‘I don’t want to talk about it!’ Harry raised his tone and moved forward to enter the Potions classroom.

He ignored Hermione when she joined his right and Ron on the left, who spent most of the lesson trying to figure out what he’d executed to get on Harry’s bad side.

‘What have I done?’ Ron hissed to Hermione, who only gave him a contemptuous look in return as she opened her book and focused her attention on Slughorn.

‘Settle down, settle down, please! Quickly, now, lots of work to get through this afternoon!’ Slughorn addressed the class.

Harry found that Potions had become one of his favourite subjects again as he took the careful time to actually learn the material and find easier ways in which to interpret the knowledge. And he hadn’t used the Half-Blood Prince’s book in quite some time; the notes remained concealed by the spell he had placed upon the book to ensure such measures continued. There was a strong sense of pride and accomplishment that came with no longer needing it most of the time.

Perhaps this was the talent Harry had indeed inherited from his mother as Slughorn so often boasted about?

‘Golpalott’s Third Law.’ Slughorn continued. ‘Who can tell me-?’

Harry’s hand shot up faster than Hermione’s, which was a person record that had actually startled Ron - while he had come to expect his friend to know more about the subject, never had he thought that Harry would react so eagerly to answering a question in class as he did it only so often.

But Potions was now Harry’s remedy for his anger or uncertainties and it always provided him a release as well as elevating his mood when he felt so accomplished with a larger variety of his tasks.

‘Ah, Harry m’boy!’ Slughorn grinned as he nodded.

Harry lowered his hand and dismissed the daggers Hermione glared his way as he answered the question.

‘I believe is says that the antidote for a mixed poison would be equal to more than the calculation of the antidotes for each of the individual components, sir?’ He said and knew it wasn’t word-for-word from their textbook as all of Hermione’s answers were.

At times Harry wondered if she actually knew the material or else just memorized it all enough to answer any question or perform any basic action.

‘Yes, that is correct!’ Slughorn beamed. ‘Ten points for Gryffindor!’

Harry didn’t need to listen as Slughorn continued to explain to those who had less understanding of the Third Law; his focus also drifted when he caught a pointed look Draco sent him from across the room. Without hearing so many words, Harry had a feeling that whatever it was that Draco was trying to tell him, had something to do with their arrangement as well as this lesson. With that in mind, Harry enveloped every word Slughorn said with the entirely of his attention.

Their objective was to create an antidote to whichever potion they selected from the rack on Slughorn’s desk that contained numerous different poisons.

‘Since you’re no longer using the Prince’s notes, can I have them?’ Ron whispered to him as he didn’t get even most of what Slughorn had been talking about.

Harry pretended not to hear his friend as he headed to the front of the room alongside Hermione and Draco. He reached for the poison that was a bright shade of pink but changed his mind and grasped the deep grey one instead. Draco stood beside him, selecting a pale blue one, and neither glanced at each other.

Though Harry was tempted to ask the Slytherin of the importance of this particular lesson and yet knew better than to do so during class.

Returning to his desk, Harry glanced at Hermione as he rolled his eyes for a moment and then turned to Ron with a little sympathy; this time it was they who appeared to ignoring him.

‘You basically need to counter-act each of the ingredients in the poisonous potion.’ Harry explained to Ron and scribbled down an incantation on a piece of parchment.

‘Use this spell to find out which ones are in it and look them up in One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi in order to find their opposites or what neutralizes them. That’s the best I can do.’

‘Thanks.’ Ron exhaled with actual gratitude and set about following Harry’s suggestions, much to Hermione’s ire.

Harry would not say the lesson was at all easy; however there was an element of ease for him as he was presented with a challenge and found it interesting to counter-act his poison even if he wasn’t doing quite as brilliantly as Slughorn had expected him to.

Sighing as his cauldron issued smoke; Harry ventured to the storage cupboard and glanced around at various boxes or jars for an ingredient of better use. His hand hesitated towards the dried beetle eyes as he spotted something that would perhaps eliminate his need to do any work that lesson at all.

Smirking, he grasped a bezoar and shoved it into his pocket as he gathered three more things he needed for his actual antidote. It didn’t happen very often, but for today at least Harry really felt like out-doing Hermione and even showing off a little. Not for the attention but simply because it was so amusing to him to do so in this particular lesson, while taking into consideration his past performance in it during the previous five years under Snape’s ruthless teaching.

--

When time was up, Harry – like the rest of the class – hadn’t been able to finish his task, although he was confident that it wasn’t as dreadful as several of the others around the room.

Slughorn was neutral about Draco’s results and Blaise’s apparently wasn’t all too bad either, nor was Ron’s (likely a result of Harry’s assistance), and of course Hermione’s was quite impressive even if it contained quite a large number of ingredients (over fifty, it would seem), and she too hadn’t been able to finish in time.

As Slughorn slowly reached Harry, the teenager lost his smirk and suddenly felt rather nervous.

‘And you, Harry.’ Slughorn said. ‘What have you got to show me?’

Taking a moment to gather his composure, Harry held up his mostly-completed vial and hurriedly explained.

‘It’s not quite finished sir and I think I added a little too many crushed Scurry beans, however it was interesting enough to give it a go.’ He smirked at the expression he received and held out his palm to reveal the bezoar.

‘Realistically, whilst it may be beneficial to know how to mix antidote as you said, I think this would be of greater use.’ He had to keep the chuckle from escaping his lips when not only did Slughorn stare at the small object for a full ten minutes but Hermione had turned pale as though she couldn’t believe she was truly being this outdone in a single lesson.

It was true; shoving a bezoar down a poisoned person’s throat would be much easier than coming up with a possible antidote when one mightn’t have time to do so.

As Slughorn laughed and went about his usual praising of Harry’s mother’s talent and his brilliance as a student, Harry tried to appear as humble as possible whereas he had the strong urge to laugh as well. Seriously, the looks on everyone’s faces were simply priceless.

‘You know a look like that and Snape would’ve been right all along.’ Hermione huffed.

‘What are you talking about?’ Harry turned to her and his grin instantly faded.

‘You’re showing off, aren’t you?’ She accused. ‘Attention-seeking is a trait he always said you possess and the Harry I know would never have proven him right by doing so now. I mean, really…what did you gain from this?’

‘Apart from house points, you mean?’ Ron retorted as he too had found Harry’s little stunt to be rather hilarious and the relative success of his own potion had put him in a good mood, which he felt Hermione had now ruined somewhat.

Harry scowled and tried to calm himself but her words had irked him more than he’d been able to predict.

‘Oh? So because I proved that not only can I be as good as you in at least one class and actually turn out to enjoy it as well while I decided to have a little fun than I’m showing off?’ Harry glared.

‘What about you? At least I didn’t recite the phrase from the book, nor do I put my hand up for every question any teacher ever asks. That’s all right for you, Hermione, but for once did you ever care about the fact that this is the only thing keeping me sane these days or did you only notice that I might be just a bit better than you for once?’ With a slam of his book, Harry matched the bell’s intention as he turned and stormed from the classroom.

He barely caught Ron saying “He’s got a point, you know” to Hermione before he turned a corner and strode down a corridor.

Harry paused as he spotted the door to Snape’s office and remembered what Hermione had said, which only made him further annoyed by her words. While it had been uncalled for on her behalf and angered him, Harry could not deny that there were far too many similarities between himself and Snape lately, or at least he was beginning to really notice them now. Hadn’t everyone always said he was so much like his father? And yet apart from his Quidditch talent and the shape of his glasses, Harry struggled to really see the truth in their words.

Sighing to calm his raging mood, he leaned against the wall opposite the office door and pondered for a moment. He decided it couldn’t be ignored any more as it actually started to bug him and therefore Harry formulated a plan. Since he could involve Toby, it was rather genius as he believed it would resolve more than a few little issues.

And it was time to get out his father’s old cloak again.

‘What time is it?’ Harry asked Toby as he spread the invisibility cloak over himself and the boy on the first day of February. He glanced down at his brother as they stood in their dormitory and waited for an answer.

Harry would have no trouble working it out on his own, however, Toby had acquired a new watch as a belated birthday gift from Irma the moment the boy had begun his lessons in telling the time.

‘Er…one moment,’ Toby stared at the hands of his watch and figured it out. ‘Oh, it’s almost 10:20am.’ He smiled.

‘Very good!’ Harry approved as they began to leave the mostly-empty common room.

The pair wandered through the castle in relative silence until they reached the castle grounds. Technically, Harry didn’t regard this as breaking his personal vow of rule-obedience; at least not until he cast the spell to freeze the Whomping Willow tree and began to venture along the secret passageway to the shrieking shack.

‘Why can’t we just use the invisible spell thing?’ Toby shivered in a way that was not a reaction to the cold – although, there was still a little snow around the grounds that hadn’t quite melted entirely, even as it was being replaced with cold, tedious wetness that was slippery and muddy from the frequent rain.

‘I think it’s best we keep that to ourselves if we can.’ Harry said. ‘And the cloak is easier right now, for the most part.’

‘It’s real scary in here.’ Toby confirmed Harry’s suspicions about the boy’s fearfulness.

‘I know, but we’re safe. I promise.’ Harry didn’t dare tell the boy what exactly used to take place in the shack or what the tunnel was used for.

Toby had overheard Draco in the corridors muttering to Blaise about werewolves several weeks ago and that had been impacting enough on the poor boy who only had his imagination and a few gory details to aid him in his assessment of such a dangerous creature.

It also wouldn’t help since the very same one that had transformed in the shack was the wizard in which they were meeting and Toby was well aware of the man’s “condition”.

Harry pushed open the door and saw Remus Lupin sitting in what was no doubt a conjured armchair (judging by its cleanness and the fact that it was still in one piece), across from the doorway.

‘Is that you?’ Remus stood instantly with his wand gripped in his hand.

‘Don’t shoot!’ Toby panicked as he saw the wand and Harry removed the cloak from over themselves. ‘Or blast, whatever.’ He calmed a little as the man lowered his wand and returned to the armchair.

‘I’m surprised you requested us to meet here.’ Remus said to Harry once they had exchanged greetings and the man conjured two other armchairs for his company.

‘Word has it that you’ve been breaking fewer rules than Hermione these days.’ He chuckled. ‘I’m proud of you, of course, although I admit it came as a great surprise.’

‘You’re not the only one.’ Harry muttered. ‘Is this place secure?’ He asked. ‘I mean, like privacy charms and such.’

Realizing the possible seriousness of their gathering, Remus nodded and sat straighter in his armchair as he prepared to hear the teenager out.

‘Did you keep your word?’ Harry stared at him. ‘Marauder’s Honor?’

‘I haven’t told a single soul save Tonks about this little tyke.’ Remus offered Toby a smile.

The small boy didn’t notice because he was pouring his interest over a new book he’d been able to lend from the library and had developed enough reading skills that he could enjoy it further.

‘Thanks.’ Harry exhaled in relief even as he hadn’t really expected Remus to betray his promise.

‘I need it to apply to this conversation as well. What I have to tell you is something not even Ron or Hermione know, only because I haven’t been able to find the right words to tell them yet.’

‘What’s this about?’ Remus began to feel concerned if Harry hadn’t confined in his best friends about something.

‘Toby,’ Harry answered. ‘I know who his father is and I know his grandmother personally.’ He revealed to the man he had come to consider as his uncle. A version much more of a real family member than Vernon Dursley had ever been to him, anyway.

‘I take it I know him?’ Remus guessed. ‘Who is it?’

‘Severus Snape.’ Harry said.

‘No.’ Remus denied and stared at the six-year-old. ‘That’s not possible.’ He breathed.

‘Obviously it is.’ Harry deadpanned and wondered why he wasn’t too nervous about revealing such a secret to an adult whereas he broke out in a sweat whenever he considered telling his best friends.

‘How?’ Remus swallowed. ‘I mean, does Severus know? And his mother is dead, how could you know her personally?’

‘She’s not dead, she’s merely in hiding.’ Harry explained. ‘It doesn’t really matter, the fact is that Toby’s mother died around about the time he was born and Snape never found out the truth.’

‘You can’t tell him, either.’ Toby looked up and stared at Remus, which caused the older wizard to believe Harry as the resemblance was very clear in the young child’s features.

‘Not ‘til after the war.’ The boy added.

‘Why?’ Remus frowned. ‘Any parent deserves to know they have a child out there!’

‘Remus, please listen.’ Harry was anxious as he hadn’t considered that Remus may tell Snape the truth.

‘If he knows about Toby before the war…well, think about the distraction it would cause him and the danger they could both be in!’ Harry insisted. ‘I fully intent to tell him afterwards, but for now their safety is more important then his right to know.’

Remus hated the logic but mutely agreed, which was something he did not want to make a habit of since it was not a teenager who was supposed to dictate an adult’s decisions and duty. Even so, he had already spoken to Dumbledore on the matter of Toby once he discovered that the headmaster knew of the small boy’s existence.

In the end, Dumbledore had told him and Tonks to trust Harry when it came to the child; it was of utmost importance.

‘I didn’t just ask you here to tell you about Toby’s heritage.’ Harry added. ‘I have something I’m a little worried about, or at least it’s annoying me and I wondered if you could help me?’

Relieved that Harry finally felt able to approach him with those sort of matters as Remus had always hoped the boy would open up to him with his problems rather than dealing with it all on his own. As Harry considered him an uncle, Remus accordingly thought of the teenager as his nephew. He was also filling in for Sirius as well, trying to be the one Harry needed if he had no one else, since the boy had lost his parents and now his godfather as well.

Remus was also one of Harry’s only real links he had left to his parents.

‘And I’d be happy to help; although my advice may not be as wise as Dumbledore’s, I’ll do the best I can.’ Remus smiled only a little as he attempted to lighten the mood.

‘Thanks.’ Harry grinned back.

‘Um, well firstly I need you to be completely honest with me: how much do I look like James or Lily Potter right now?’

Remus had not been expecting that but decided to be truthful with his reply.

‘Well…right now? Hm.’ He looked the boy over and sighed as he knew what answer the teenager was likely expecting as he stared back at Remus in search of any sign of falsehood.

‘Harry, I must say that you look more like someone else’s son rather than resembling your parents quite as profoundly as you did in the past. Possibly because your hair is longer now and you’re taller.’

‘I look like Snape, you mean.’ Harry said and bent to pick up Toby’s book as they boy had just dropped it.

‘I…well…’ Remus sighed. ‘Yes.’ He admitted. ‘Again, because of the hair…when was the last time you washed it, by the way?’

‘A few nights ago, but I brew a lot more potions than I used to so it…’ Harry paused and frowned deeply as he let that information sink it.

‘Remus, I really need to know what Sirius said. I know I’ve asked before but this is different.’ He looked worriedly at the man. ‘Were…I mean, were my parents happy? I know about Snape; I know that he was mum’s friend although no one bothered to tell me this until recently. They knew each other before Hogwarts too.’

‘Yes, they did.’ Remus said carefully. ‘Who told you that?’

‘Snape,’ Harry shrugged. ‘But were my mum and dad happy?’

‘Very.’ Remus nodded.

He found it hard to believe that Severus had willingly given Harry such information about his past with Lily, how they had been friends; perhaps he’d actually discussed this with the boy since Harry had a more knowledgeable look in his eye when he’d mentioned it.

‘Lily and James were perfect together. While they bickered like all couples did, they were very happy, even more so when you were born.’ Remus nodded.

‘Why do you ask? Has someone told you differently?’

‘No, I…’ Harry sighed and stared at the dirt-covered floor beneath his feet, trying not to remember the first time he’d met Sirius inside this shack three years ago.

‘It hadn’t bothered me before as I stopped fussing over my hair and began to take more interest in Potions instead of sneaking out and slacking off.’ He explained.

‘But now my friends keep comparing me to Snape; probably because of my hair, love for Potions, and the fact that I’m a little grumpier than usual. It’s because I can’t sleep much with the nightmares, and still…they sort of have a point.’ He admitted.

‘You want to know if it’s possible that you have any relation to him.’ Remus realized and instantly felt he should have formulated an excuse not to attend this little gathering.

‘You could really be my brother?’ Toby grinned up at Harry, all thoughts on his book long forgotten. ‘For real?’

‘Shush, Toby.’ Harry said. ‘I don’t know, it’s just weird and I’m not stupid…I’ve noticed that I have a lot in common with Snape. I can’t help but wonder if there’s a reason for it.’

‘Naturally,’ Remus nodded. ‘I would have done the same. However, there is no evidence whatsoever that you should be too concerned about this, Harry. It’s not as though a glamour has been lifted or a failing spell is unveiling your true looks. This is really you, simply that you’re expressing it more.’

‘What do you mean?’ Harry frowned.

‘Perhaps this was always you but now you’re growing up and developing your own style. You look a great deal like you did when you were in fourth year; your hair was longer then too. That’s what I’m reminded of, when you were fourteen.’

‘Really?’ Harry couldn’t help feeling relieved. Even as he no longer despised the man, the idea of being related to Snape did send a great deal of shivers down his spine. He also felt bad for getting Toby’s hopes up, even if they would always be brothers in their own way.

‘Really,’ Remus chuckled. ‘Goodness, I could only imagine the look on Severus’ face if he were to hear the comments others are making about your appearance nowadays.’

‘Yeah,’ Harry laughed as well.

‘My dad’s not bad, you know.’ Toby pointed out. ‘My cat is magic and can tell if someone is bad or not and he likes my dad.’

‘I never said you could keep that cat yet.’ Harry grimaced.

‘I don’t think Severus is bad.’ Remus assured the smaller boy. ‘He does have his moments.’

--

And as the subject drifted to schoolwork and several of other topics of scattered interest, the time ticked by and before long, the younger pair departed the shack and returned to the castle for lunch. Remus had even received an unexpected hug from Harry only to have Toby mimic the action in worry that he was being rude otherwise.

Watching the boy’s conceal themselves under James’ old cloak, Remus waved and bid them goodbye. Once he was clearly alone again, he sank heavily into the armchair and hoped Harry would forgive him one day if it turned out that he had misled the boy when there was still matters left unresolved about Sirius’ last announcement of possibility.

Scowling, Remus conjured a piece of parchment and scribbled a note before he sent it off to its addressee, with a few protective charms in the unlikely case of theft or someone else reading it.

With a crack Remus apparated away once he was safe enough to do so and instantly sought out Tonks as she had demanded to be kept in the loop about such things.

It had been a countless number of weeks and still she was yet to find anything solidifying about the woman known as “Mildred Merrengold”, other than that she’d been a Ravenclaw student at Hogwarts at least twenty years ago and won an award following graduation for a lesser-common variety of an appearance manipulating charm.

That was it.

No family background information, employment history, significant events that made history or was notable in any of the old newspapers, and she’d never been anything besides an “Exceeds Expectations” student whilst at Hogwarts. Mildred Merrengold was very average and unimportant in accordance to Hermione’s research. Yet they knew otherwise because of Toby's profound reaction to that mysterious witch that day in Hogsmeade, in addition to the fact that the Gryffindors were certain she was at the orphanage on the day of the fire.

Although, by mid-February, it hardly mattered what Hermione had or hadn’t found as everyone was busy studying and she rarely saw Harry at all, who had taken upon hanging out with a different set of friends.

Their apparation lessons were progressing steadily just as their lessons were, although it was getting a little repetitive to be constantly reminded that they were in their N.E.W.T year and should treat their study time with as much seriousness and dedication in which was required in order to get the grades they desired.

Ron and Hermione were still not talking and it had reached the point where it really bothered Toby, until Harry distracted him from it by allowing the boy to keep the cat, Felix, who immediately left Hagrid’s hut to take up residence in the Gryffindor tower. Toby also spent less time with Irma apart from an odd afternoon when Harry had a lot of schoolwork to do or a Quidditch practice to attend.

The teenager constantly refused to acknowledge Toby’s insisting that Snape was good and so far that was the only thing the boys constantly disagreed about and argued over. Secretly, Harry wanted to agree with Toby but could not bring himself to announce such a level of trust for the man who had hated him for the past five years, regardless of how things were now.

Following his meeting with Remus, Harry had decided that the man was right and he was indeed just being himself instead of fussing over what may be expected of him or how he was meant to be either like Lily or James. Harry was exactly as he’d told Hagrid all those years ago, before he had even set foot inside Hogwarts; he was just Harry.

His hair remained about his ears and had taken a much darker tone as well as being straighter; this was all a direct result of the frequent brewing Harry enjoyed over the weekends and some afternoons when he had enough free time to do so. The rest of his spare time was spent outside under the oak tree with Neville, Ginny and Luna. Toby often joined them under the invisibility spell and always brought Felix with him, who had already proved to be a very loyal and obedient little bundle of furry energy.

It wasn’t until the last day of February that Harry finally heard from Draco regarding their deal and the concept of using the Unbreakable Vow in which to seal it.

He had just been walking back to the castle with Ginny and Neville when they paused short of the doors at the sight of Draco leaning against a side wall looking thoroughly bored.

‘Destination, Determination, Deliberation…honestly, I can’t get it out of my head!’ Harry was saying when he stopped before the Slytherin.

‘At least I can remember it.’ Neville commented and joined him, gasping a little at their unexpected yet unfriendly company.

‘What do you want, Malfoy?’ Ginny glared at him accordingly.

Harry and Draco stared at each other for a moment and when the Slytherin lowered his gaze and didn’t say a word, although he crossed his arms rather tightly, Harry turned to his two friends and sighed.

‘It’s okay, I’ll meet you inside.’ He said.

The difference between having Ginny and Neville around instead of Ron and Hermione was that they asked less questions because each had thoroughly adapted to the way Harry was now. They understood he did odd things like this sometimes and knew when to trust him to be left alone whenever he requested it.

Ron and Hermione would likely become accustomed to this as well if they’d been able to see Harry for more than forty minutes each day.

‘Alright, but let us know if you need back-up.’ Ginny narrowed her eyes at Draco while she passed.

‘Against Malfoy?’ Harry scoffed. ‘As if,’ He chuckled. Watching his friends leave, he turned to the Slytherin and frowned.

‘Well?’

Draco did not appear to have appreciated the implication that Harry would be able to duel against him with ease, however he tossed the comment aside as he pushed himself off the side of the wall and glared at the Gryffindor.

‘We have an agreement.’ He began tensely. ‘And we’ve put it off long enough.’

Harry fought not to roll his eyes as it was Draco who had been delaying it by not contacting Harry or even telling him anything more for nearly an entire month. Privately, the Gryffindor had hoped that it would no longer apply and that Draco had changed his mind. The idea of taking the binding vow still did not appeal to him even the slightest.

‘Well, why’d you wait this long then?’ Harry asked.

‘Why do you think?’ Draco glowered. ‘I prefer that no one knows about this and it would not impact my reputation in a gratifying manner if I were to be indebted to you, would it?’

‘I suppose not.’ Harry sighed as he thought about it for a moment, having done some discreet research on Unbreakable Vows.

He knew the basics; that it must be worded carefully because any breaking of the vows resulted in death to the one breaking it, also that they would needed a “binder”, someone who could perform the actual spell as well as act as a witness to the proceedings. It reminded Harry a bit of a court order but with worse consequences than a few fines or temporary imprisonment.

‘I know someone who could be the binder.’

‘Sod off, Potter.’ Draco rolled his eyes again. ‘I do not trust any of your annoying Gryffindork friends.’

‘She’s not in Gryffindor.’ Harry glared back. ‘And she’s good at keeping secrets. No one would suspect her.’

‘Who is it then?’ Draco demanded. ‘Well? I don’t have all bloody day!’

‘Luna Lovegood.’ Harry said.

‘Isn’t she that blonde pureblood who lives near the Weasleys?’ Draco mused for a moment and seemed quite skeptical. ‘I heard she’s a bit out of sorts.’

‘And I heard you’re a complete git to all Gryffindors.’ Harry retorted. ‘Or anyone, for that matter. Does that make it true?’

‘Fine,’ Draco growled. ‘Meet me in the Room of Requirement at eight thirty tonight with the Ravenclaw.’ He decided. ‘It’s the room of hidden things.’

‘Eight o’clock.’ Harry negotiated. ‘I have better things to do.’

‘Whatever! Just make sure you show up.’ Draco stalked off towards the grounds in the direction of the Forbidden Forest.

Harry turned and rejoined his friends who had been waiting for him just outside the Great Hall as it was now time for dinner.

Seating beside each Ginny and Neville, Harry looked over at the Ravenclaw table as he searched for Luna since he had to inform her of what was going to happen. He only hoped she wouldn’t be busy because he could honestly not think of any other person in which Draco would approve enough of to use as their binder. The last thing Harry needed was the incident of having to place his trust in another Slytherin.

‘Are you alright, Harry?’ Ginny asked.

Hermione sat across from her and looked hesitantly at Harry as though she no longer knew how to approach him.

‘What did Malfoy want?’ Neville added.

‘Nothing,’ Harry dismissed. ‘It was just the usual stuff.’

He turned and glanced over at the staff table, spotting Irma talking to Flitwick about something while to her right sat an aggravated-looking Snape. Not that it was anything new, but there was a certain edgier expression about his glare that made Harry wonder if the man was picturing the poisoned death of anyone in particular.

‘Excuse me.’ Harry said a few minutes later when he finally spotted Luna.

He moved past a group of sixth year Hufflepuffs who had just entered the hall and dodged the taunts of the Slytherins until he reached the Ravenclaw table.

‘Hello, Harry.’ Luna looked over at him and smiled. ‘Did you want to tell me something? I noticed that you were looking for me from where you sat at Gryffindor table. I’m glad you found me though, is it something important?’

‘Yes.’ Harry nodded. ‘Can I talk to you after dinner? It’s rather urgent.’ He said, aware of those who were trying to eavesdrop.

‘Of course I’ll talk to you, and after pudding.’ Luna nodded. ‘Thank you, Harry Potter.’

‘Er…you’re welcome.’ Harry didn’t have a clue what he was being thanked for as he returned to his friends. He didn’t feel particularly hungry and merely poked his vegetables with his fork.

Sighing, Harry sipped from his goblet instead and thought about what was going to happen later that night. Taking an Unbreakable Vow with Draco Malfoy seemed like an insanely stupid idea, and yet it was far too tempting to learn what the Slytherin might have to tell him that could possibly save his life in the battle against Voldemort. All in exchange for the whereabouts of the Chamber of Secrets, that was really a Slytherin domain so Draco had a little right to it, in a way.

Luna had agreed to meet Harry and Draco in the Room of Requirement at exactly eight o’clock later that night in order to be the binder to their Unbreakable Vow.

Everything was going according to the plan and yet the sickening feeling in the pit of Harry’s stomach only worsened as the minutes ticked by. He was unable to sit around in the common room for long and ventured to the library but Madam Pince wasn’t there so he went back to the dormitory to play with Toby for a while.

By seven thirty he was unable to remain idle and left the Gryffindor tower again to head for the seventh floor. Dodging Filch and a mumbling Trelawney, Harry managed to get into the room Draco had told him to call for and was surprised to see that the blonde was already there.

‘You’re early.’ Harry commented as he saw the Slytherin seated before a fire in a green armchair.

 It was amazing there was room for those two things at all given the high amount of clutter and seemingly junk items that filled every meter of the room. He also wondered what Draco had been doing if he’d been there long because there was no book nor other useful object near enough for him to use to occupy the time with.

‘So are you.’ Draco replied. ‘I thought you had better things to do?’

‘Not until after.’ Harry retorted.

His eyes widened when a scarlet armchair appeared across from Draco just as he was thinking he needed a place to sit. Sighing, Harry pulled a Potions book from his bag that he had borrowed from the library a few days ago. Seating himself in the chair, he proceeded to ignore the other boy as they waited for the Ravenclaw girl.

‘How long have you been here?’ Harry was unable to focus on the material in his book with the Slytherin sitting so nearby, looking utterly bored and yet almost as nervous as Harry felt about what was going to happen.

‘I do not care for small talk, Potter.’ Draco frowned. ‘Can’t you just sit there and shut up while we wait?’

‘Fine!’ Harry growled and muttered under his breath about uncivilized gits and rude snakes as he tried to follow the words on the pages of his book.

‘I stayed in the Great Hall long enough to try that new pudding, okay?’ Draco scowled as though Harry had spent the past ten mute minutes pestering him for an answer.

‘Then I came straight here, satisfied?’

Harry said nothing and continued reading, although a smug smirk formed on his lips that only irritated Draco further, who was still doing nothing other then sitting in the armchair and staring at the low fire.

--

‘Oh, I have the strange feeling that I am late because you’re both already here and yet my watch says it’s exactly eight o’clock. Perhaps you had meant a different eight o’clock?’ Luna said as she walked through the door with her book bag strapped over her shoulder and her wand grasped lightly in her hand.

‘What?’ Draco frowned and glanced at Harry for a translation but all he got was a flippant wave of Harry’s hand instead.

‘You know how to do this, right?’ The blonde gave her a hesitant expression.

‘Of course,’ Luna smiled. ‘Hello Draco Malfoy.’ She added in greeting.

‘We’ll say it ourselves though, if that’s okay?’ Harry added.

While he may trust Luna immeasurably with a number of things and she was his friend, Harry wasn’t going to leave their vow up to her wording; their lives depended on it and one wrong phrase would not end well.

‘That’s quite alright.’ Luna nodded. ‘Are you ready?’

Draco and Harry stood at exactly arms length as they reached out with their right hands and grasped the other’s wrist. Luna stood to Harry’s right and flicked her wand accordingly, watching as the silvery threads wrapped around the boy’s linked wrists. It reminded Harry a bit of memories before they were placed into a pensieve.

Wanting to get it over with, Harry started first.

‘Do you, Draco Malfoy, swear to provide me with information you believe to be accurate and possibly useful in regards to the upcoming war?’

‘I will.’ Draco answered and watched the magical threads wrap tighter around them.

‘And do you, Harry Potter, promise that in exchange for that information, reveal to me the whereabouts of the Chamber of Secrets here at Hogwarts and how to access it, should V-Vol-Voldemort be defeated in the war?’

He stared at their wrists as though fixated on the spell whereas Harry was busy studying the blonde’s face and couldn’t believe Draco was indeed sincere with their arrangement. He also struggled to feel anything but a little respect for the Slytherin saying You-Know-Who’s name.

‘Yes.’ Harry nodded. ‘I will.’

‘Is that everything?’ Luna wondered.

Harry nodded and she lowered her wand, watching with interest as the threads faded and yet left scar-like pale lines on the boy’s hands and wrists.

‘These should fade in a day or two.’ Draco said as he yanked his hand back and examined the thin lines.

‘No one would think much of it unless they’re very familiar with Unbreakable Vows. There’s also no way for them to tell who the vow was made to just by looking at them.’

‘I know, I can read.’ Harry frowned as he had done enough research to know those things.

‘Oh, really?’ Mocked Draco. ‘Here I thought you just liked staring at the pages for no apparent reason.’

‘You’re real funny.’ Harry deadpanned as he rolled his eyes. ‘Thanks, Luna.’ He offered his friend a smile.

‘I don’t mind; it was rather interesting, perhaps even more so than looking through bushes for Reversible Pixies.’

‘That’s rubbish.’ Draco rolled his eyes. ‘They don’t exist.’

‘Of course they do.’ Luna smiled.

‘They do like to be invisible though and I think people don’t like them very much for some reason; it must be because the little hats they wear that remind people of thumbtacks.’ She whispered the last part as though it was a secret.

‘Right,’ Harry nodded as Luna lifted her bag back onto her shoulders from where she had left it on the floor at her feet when she’d entered.

‘Well, thanks again, Luna.’

‘You’re very welcome, Harry Potter.’ She waved airily to them and skipped out of the room.

‘Must all your friends be weird and nutters?’ Draco rolled his eyes in amusement.

‘Anything’s better then them being Death Eaters.’ Harry glared back as he strode past the Slytherin and headed for the door.

He didn’t glance over his shoulder at the other boy so Harry didn’t know how Draco had reacted to his words; all he knew was that the Slytherin hadn’t followed him outside the room and into the seventh-floor corridor.

Harry ventured around a corridor and was busy thinking about the vow that he hadn’t spotted Snape at the end of the hallway, until he was mere feet from the man.

‘Ack!’ Harry couldn’t help reacting rather dramatically when he caught sight of the black-robed professor, so much so that the books he had been carrying in his arms slipped and scattered onto the stone floor at his feet.

Severus had seen the teenager at the opposite end of the corridor and was instantly suspicious, even as he had not expected the expression upon the boy’s face right up until the rather startled reaction.

 Glancing downwards at the books, Severus wasn’t sure what to think of the titles that each pertained to Potions in one way or another; such as listings of ingredients and their uses, ancient draughts that have advanced the capabilities of magical hospitals, rare poisons with antidotes, common mistakes that are made in moderate potions, and of a couple others in which had been hastily gathered by the boy before Severus could properly read them.

‘Sorry, Professor Snape,’ Harry said politely even as he held the other man somewhat responsible for his embarrassing stumble.

‘I didn’t see you there.’

‘Obviously.’ Severus replied although he wondered how the brat hadn’t been able to notice him, if that was even the truth.

Severus almost found amusement in the way Harry quickly checked his watch to make sure he wasn’t past curfew and the teen relaxed when he wasn’t. It was strange, that since the boy had heard about Lily from Severus and then proceeded to give him a birthday gift, that they hadn’t had a lot of contact with the other in the previous two months. Had it really been that long? Sure, there were the usual Defense Against the Dark Arts classes but they mostly avoided each other whenever possible.

The Gryffindor seemed to be thinking the same thing.

‘Um, did…did you like the-oh never mind.’ Harry said hurriedly and moved to walk past Snape but paused when the man held out a hand to stop him. Looking over at his professor, Harry lowered his gaze to the silver cauldron that rested on the man’s other palm.

‘Indeed.’ Severus nodded. 

The smile on the brat’s face was only serving to make him feel very uncomfortable about the boy’s lingering presence.

The Gryffindor said nothing as he gripped his books higher and turned to leave, walking directly under the torchlight as he went. While the boy disappeared around the corner, Severus froze with horror as he had seen the tell-tale markings of an Unbreakable Vow.

Spinning on his heel, Severus increased his pace as he headed in the direction the Gryffindor had come from in hope of gaining clues. Just as he turned a second corner, Severus spotted his godson walking with his hands shoved into the pockets of his Slytherin robes.

The teenager’s reaction to seeing him there was nearly identical to Potter’s.

‘Hey, Uncle Sev,’ Draco tried to seem friendly and casual.

Severus was not fooled and knew that the usage of the boy’s nickname for him was only further evidence of such; Draco hadn’t really called him that since the boy’s fourth year.

‘Greetings, Draco.’ Severus returned smoothly. ‘And what business might you have in the seventh floor corridor at this time of night?’

‘It’s not past curfew.’ Draco frowned. ‘I was just-‘

His excuse was cut off by the exhausted arrival of Filch, who seemed both enraged and excited about something.

‘Professor Snape!’ He gasped as he reached them.

Draco used this time to sneak away from his godfather and returned to the dungeons.

‘I have just caught a bunch of Gryffindors lingering near the library and causing a disruption.’ Filch said.

‘Very well,’ Severus sighed. ‘Ensure that they remain where they are; I shall be along shortly.’ He approved and watched the caretaker scurry off as he remained behind to pinch the bridge of his nose while closing his eyes for a few seconds.

It was quite clear that Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy had likely just made an Unbreakable Vow. Severus was certain that the next few nights would consist of him having nightmares about the possible promises being made between the two supposed enemies.

It was moments like this when he was colossally thankful that he was in no way a parent because the stress of determining and preventing the trouble-making of teenagers was horrendous enough when limited to his usual staff duties. Speaking of which, he had better find out which Gryffindors those troublemakers were and punish them accordingly; yes, that was likely to boost his mood a little.

Yet as it turned out, they were not the ones he had been expecting, given the fact that even Severus had noticed the way Potter had been distancing himself from his usual group of friends. The Gryffindor students Filch had in his office were: Ron Weasley, Lavender Brown, Ginny Weasley and…Hermione Granger?’

‘Well, well, what do we have here?’ Severus smirked at the nervously defiant Gryffindors.

‘As strange as it may be that Potter was lurking the corridor on the seventh floor whilst his friends were causing trouble elsewhere, I must confess myself surprised that Mr Weasley and Miss Brown apparently do know the location of the library, after all. Perhaps you each took a wrong turn?’ He sneered.

‘This is not fair.’ Lavender huffed. ‘We weren’t doing anything wrong, were we Won-Won?’

As Ron flushed bright red, Severus had to struggle against the snort that would otherwise have left him feeling rather undignified.

‘We’re students, Professor Snape.’ Hermione added. ‘We’re permitted to use the library as long as it’s before curfew.’ She insisted.

Severus was starting to wish it was curfew because this was now the third time he had been reminded that it wasn’t as though he was incapable to telling the time. Plus, they’d lose a lot more points if it was. Severus also noticed how Ginny was remaining perfectly silent as though she was a mere observer to the scene.

‘They weren’t in the library, Professor Snape.’ Filch jumped in.

‘I suspected as much.’ Severus nodded as he made a gesture for the Gryffindors to remain put while he entered the library and sought out his mother.

‘Oh, good,’ Irma scowled at Severus as though he was the one who had crossed her bad mood today.

‘I trust you’ll punish that lot for fighting in my library?’ She glared.

‘Were they fighting with wands or fists?’ Severus asked, almost bored by the entire ordeal now as he would much rather panic over the Unbreakable Vow than deal with a mere teenage quarrel.

‘They were about to use wands.’ Irma disapproved. ‘Miss Granger was once again searching for that insufferable witch and brought Miss Weasley with her. Miss Brown started talking to them with Mr Weasley joining in. The next thing I know they’re all shouting and I took great pleasure in booting them from the room.’ She explained.

‘And they just continued it outside! The nerve of teenagers these days! It’s a shame Harry wasn’t with them, he’s such a delightful company now and would surely have instilled some sense into their petty argument.’

‘Spare me the details of Pot-what?’ Severus paused and stared at her.

‘Delightful?’ He snorted. ‘Hardly. And when was it that you began calling the brat by his given name?’ Severus raised his eyebrow at his mother.

‘Since I did more then just glare at him from the distance and actually got to know the boy.’ Irma retorted with a smirk, which he ignored and turned to walk away from her.

Severus handed out the twenty point punishments to both Lavender and Ron while another ten points were taken from each of the other two. He then dismissed everyone but Granger, with the threat of a one-month detention if it happened again.

‘Madam Pince has informed me that you have been loitering in the library lately in search of a particular witch?’ Severus knew better than to dismiss this detail after what had happened the last time this particular girl had been so obsessed with one person for a long period of time.

The headache of “Nicolas Flamel” came to mind.

‘Yes, sir,’ Hermione nodded and saw an opportunity for information. ‘I heard the name and was very curious but can find very little about her, apart from the fact that she went to Hogwarts.’ She said in one breath.

‘Her name is Mildred Merrengold, have you heard of her?’

Severus paused when he heard that name and swallowed as he could not believe he was hearing it again from such a source. Deciding to give his mother a piece of mind and less reason to lock the library doors in the faces of too-frequent and curious students who are there for non-school-related reasons, he answered the girl.

‘Mildred Merrengold is a despicable, vile woman who takes great pleasure in thieving from pureblood lines, tricking them into revealing the locations of their heirlooms in which she can later return to steal.’ Severus explained with a frown.

‘She is older than she appears due to several charms she has revived herself and passed off as updated inventions. Potions included.’

He really did despise that woman.

‘There are few pure families in which she has never been able to acquire a heirloom of any kind from and those remain on high alert of her presence.’ He said.

‘There is nothing neither fascinating nor useful about the knowledge of her existence and therefore you ought to put her from your mind.’

‘Which families?’ Hermione asked eagerly. ‘And is she known to cause fires?’

Now Severus was suspicious.

‘Only in a place in which she has failed to acquire a heirloom; however, there is always too little evidence in which to convict her of the crimes. As for the families...I deem it to be of little importance,, however I am aware of your insatiable thirst for sticking your nose where it doesn’t belong – the main ones you would be more familiar with are: Malfoy, Black, Prince, Lestrange, Pandorus, and…Potter.’ He frowned.

‘Thank you, sir!’

‘Miss Granger.’ Severus halted the girl’s movements with his tone alone.

‘If I should discover that by giving you this knowledge rather than allowing you to constantly irritate those around you in search for it, leads in any way to the breakage of a single rule…rest assure that I will not hesitate to BAN you from the library for at least a full term week.’

Her gasp of complete horror had the desired effect on his mood and Severus was able to return to his quarters without the pressure of a headache.

And there he found that the roll of parchment he shared with S.J.E was attempting to get his attention. Surely enough, there was a fresh phrase written upon the otherwise blank page:

‘Ah, Severus m’boy, what do I owe this pleasure?’ Slughorn beamed at Severus from where he had hastily shoved a small container into his desk drawer - likely a potions ingredient that wouldn’t make it to the student’s stores.

‘I require a memory.’ Severus told him and noticed the clouded darkness that formed in the other man’s gaze; Slughorn’s grin had vanished very quickly.

‘You needn’t fear; this particular memory isn’t for Albus.’ He added. ‘The curiosity is purely my own. I remain unconvinced of Potter’s apparent talent and wish to view an excessively challenging lesson in which you taught to the sixth year dunderheads, in which Potter ought to be in attendance. Perhaps one that requires the students to understand the concepts involved with such material rather then knowing a few useful…tricks?’

‘Why of course!’ Slughorn instantly returned to his cheerful self. ‘And I think I know just the one! Some time ago we were working with Golpalott’s Third Law and it should be exactly what you seek.’ Slughorn nodded as he raised his wand to his temple and then moved to place the memory into a vial.

‘It is not my place in which to retain this memory.’ Severus accepted the corked vial from the other wizard with hesitant caution.

‘Upon the conclusion of viewing its contents, I shall return it without vacillation.’

‘I appreciate it, m’boy!’ Slughorn nodded. ‘And I think you’ll be quite impressed with what you’ll see.’

‘I doubt it.’ Severus muttered. He bid his former mentor farewell before he returned to his office and located his new pensieve; one with extra security charms placed upon it in the instance that any curious Gryffindors should venture near it ever again.

Tipping the memory into the liquid, Severus locked and warded his door before he leaned forward and viewed the recollection.

--

There was Slughorn, over by his desk as the 6th year students filed into the room, chatting amongst themselves in a way they would never have dared to do if Severus had still been their teacher.  

Moving around the babbling teenagers, Severus sought out the one in particular in which would hold his sole interest regardless of if Slughorn had offered comparable observations; this was unlikely, as Slughorn never paid as much attention as he perhaps should and therefore Severus expected to see or hear additional things in the man’s memory than its owner knew the existence of.

And Severus was correct in that logical assumption as he lingered by the doorway and waited for Potter to arrive with his annoying friends.

‘I don’t want to talk about it!’ Harry’s tone was raised as he marched into the classroom and paid very little attention to Ron or Hermione.

‘What have I done?’ Ron asked Hermione, who didn’t seem to be too pleased with him either. The three Gryffindors proceeded to pay attention to their teacher.

Severus stood directly in front of Granger’s area of the table as the position was diagonally to Harry’s right. This way he was very close to the boy’s center of interest; able to hear and see everything Harry did and yet also pay attention to anything that may capture the child’s own focus. Severus had no awareness of what Slughorn was doing or saying unless it was entirely necessary in order to establish a full understanding of Potter’s reactions.

‘Golpalott’s Third Law?’ Slughorn was saying. ‘Who can tell me-‘

Severus rolled his eyes towards Granger and was stunned to see Potter trounce the girl in speed with his own efforts to raise his hand. This was impossible!

Although, the fact that the victorious, viper-fast movement had given Ron a fright, was a tad amusing.

‘Ah, Harry m’boy!’ Slughorn nodded with a grin.

Severus watched as the Gryffindor lowered his hand and ignored the annoyance of Hermione - who no doubt hated being bested by anyone. He listened to the explanation and couldn’t believe that not only was it entirely correct and filled with the necessary level of understanding, but it also wasn’t recited from the textbook like Hermione always boasted her knowledge with.

While Slughorn handed out ten points to Gryffindor for the answer, Severus observed the way Harry glanced over at Draco and the pair shared a rather curious expression. Draco was trying to mutely tell Harry something and Severus wondered if it had anything to do with their recent events involving the Unbreakable Vow. And since when were these two rivals on such non-shouting terms, anyway?

Whatever the reasoning was, Draco’s important look only sharpened Harry’s focus towards the material of that lesson.

‘Since you’re no longer using the Prince’s notes, can I have them?’ Ron whispered to Harry.

Severus almost began shouting profanities at the Gryffindors when he remembered that this was a memory and it would do the situation no good. He had suspected early in the year that Potter may have come across his old Advanced Potion-Making textbook and now Severus was certain that it was indeed the secret behind the boy’s sudden success in the subject.

Yet Ron’s words and the fact that the appearance of Harry’s textbook was as normal as the others (although the bespectacled boy did seem to be taking better care of his), indicated that there really was actual talent somewhere in the brat.

Severus watched Harry and Draco closely but gained no further clues as he followed the Gryffindor back to the table. Potter offered some very useful advice to Ron about how to find what he might need to accomplish their task and then proceeded with his own.

Severus was sure he already knew everything that he had hoped not to find and yet suspected he would, involving the boy’s newfound skill in the subject. Even so, he wanted to see the entire memory through to the end, just in case.

Severus watched the boy work with practiced hands and categorized skill, right up until he snatched a bezoar from the storage cupboard and stashed it into his pocket as his arms filled with several other potential ingredients.

At first Severus thought the brat was thieving but knew even Potter would not have been so obvious with his actions, not even considering the “perfect student” he appeared to be in Slughorn’s eyes.

Once their given time had concluded, Severus cared nothing for the efforts of the other dunderheads and only focused on what Slughorn thought of Harry’s; he himself would have discreetly given the boy an “Exceeds Expectations” for the work, which was really saying something when one took into the account the abysmal attempts of the rest.

‘And you, Harry.’ Slughorn finally approached his favourite student. ‘What have you got to show me?’

‘It’s not quite finished sir and I think I added a little too many crushed Scurry beans, however it was interesting to give it a go.’ The boy said as he held out his vial and then revealed the bezoar in his hand as he continued talking.

‘Realistically, whilst it may be beneficial to know how to mix antidotes as you said, I think this would be of greater use.’

Many stared and Slughorn laughed, but Severus could not believe the boy’s cheek and…cunning. He was right; the bezoar would counteract the entire range of poisons in which the class had been working with. Yet if the teenager had the bezoar, then why would he have even bothered to do the work?

Severus begun to get a headache and wondered if by giving him this particular recollection, Slughorn was enacting his revenge on Severus for convincing him to give up whatever memory Dumbledore had so desperately needed from Slughorn involving Tom Riddle as a student.

‘You know a look like that and Snape would’ve been right all along.’

Hermione’s words brought Severus out of his glaring towards Slughorn’s boasts of the boy having Lily’s talent, and his pressuring headache. Imagine that, Slughorn had given him a memory without realizing that Severus himself was mentioned in it.

And Granger had a point about Potter’s James-like expression of glee, one that Severus always took a lengthy moment in which to loathe.

‘What are you talking about?’ Harry’s previous expression was gone.

‘You’re showing off, aren’t you?’ She blamed. ‘Attention-seeking is a trait he always said you possess and the Harry I know would never have proven him right by doing so now. I mean, really…what did you gain from this?’

‘Apart from house points, you mean?’ Ron defended whereas Harry scowled in effort to calm himself.

Severus stared at the scene and tuned out the entirety of the classroom; he refused to believe what he was hearing and yet didn’t want to miss a single word of it.

‘Oh? So because I proved that not only can I be as good as you in at least one class and actually turn out to enjoy it as well while I decided to have a little fun than I’m showing off?’ The bespectacled boy glared at his friend.

‘What about you? At least I didn’t recite the phrase from the book, nor do I put my hand up for every question any teacher ever asks. That’s all right for you, Hermione, but for once did you ever care about the fact that this is the only thing keeping me sane these days or did you only notice that I might be just a bit better than you for once?’

Severus watched with astonishment as Harry slammed his book shut and followed the rest of the students from the room. He had to agree with Ron that Harry did in fact have a point and yet it was as though Severus had watched the development relating to a different boy, not the arrogant Potter he had thought the child to only be.

What was going on?

With an ounce of good fortune, Slughorn had ventured to the corridor outside for a moment to speak with a Ravenclaw prefect, and Severus was able to follow Harry further.

He observed as the Gryffindor paused not far from Severus’ own office and a contemplative expression clouded Harry’s face. The teenager even leaned his back against the stone wall and stared at the door for a little while longer before he finally turned and departed the dungeons…

--

Severus gasped as he left the memory and instantly moved to drop into the nearest chair in his office.

He had been curious about finding out if the boy had any real talent or was cheating and yet he had discovered so much more. He wished he hadn’t but with all of the re-arrangements he’s had to make in his own judgment and mind about the sixteen-year-old Harry Potter, it felt only worse to realize that he was adapting to seeing Harry in a new perspective, just a little more each time.

Beyond the painful regret, maddening error, and inexcusable reasoning behind everything he had previously considered to be fact…Severus hated nothing more then the sickening feeling that he owed the boy an apology.

Justified or not, that was NEVER going to happen!

The following morning was the 1st of March and Harry was awoken by the excited babbling of Toby as the boy sat over on Ron’s bed and eyed the teenager’s birthday presents.

‘That one looks best; I think you should save it for last.’ Toby was saying as Harry sat upright and stifled a yawn as he reached for his glasses.

‘Save it for last?’ Ron stared. ‘Are you mental?’

‘But the best stuff should always be last!’ Toby insisted.

‘Yeah, but then if you wait too long, you might not get the chance.’ Ron reasoned. ‘Oh, hello Harry,’ he greeted his sleepy friend who was shuffling about for something to wear.

‘Happy birthday, Ron.’ Harry turned and tossed a gift onto the bed to join the other brightly-wrapped ones that sat there in a glorious pile.

Seamus and Dean passed by noisily to head downstairs to breakfast, chuckling at the way Toby was making a big deal of someone else’s birthday (they didn’t know it was because Toby himself had never really had one before), and Neville was crawling under his bed for a lost sock.

‘Cheers,’ Ron said as he reached for the present and began ripping at the paper while Toby inched closer across the bed to stare at it eagerly.

Harry smirked with amusement and moved to gather his Potions kit from where he kept it near his bed and rummaged through it to see that he had quite a bit of restocking to do.

‘Nice one, Harry!’ Ron grinned enthusiastically and waved the pair of Quidditch Keeper’s gloves while Toby clapped just as energetically.

‘No problem.’ Harry barely had time to reply as he moved to sit on his bed to gather a quill and piece of parchment to categorize the ingredients he would need, sorted by two columns for the ones he would have to order/buy and the rest in which he could find outside.

He had received a reply from Snape about the area at the back of the grounds and what could be of use to him, with the warning that if he were to share the knowledge with anyone else then Snape would not offer such details again.

‘Seriously good haul this year!’ Ron announced as he held up yet another unwrapped gift. ‘I think I’ll come of age next year too…’

‘What’s that mean?’ Toby asked.

Harry was no longer really listening to either of the pair as he was too absorbed in his all-important recreational list - indeed, this was a separate kit he kept for non-class related work and instead for his own brewing that he still tried to find time for every couple of days or when he was in a bad/stressed mood.

‘Oh, means I’m seventeen and can use magic whenever I like.’ Ron explained as he tugged at a string binding his next present.

‘Before that we have a sort of trace on us that tells the Ministry if we’re using magic when we’re not supposed to, like around muggles or whatever.’

‘What’s that?’ Toby pointed to the bottle Ron had unwrapped in which contained a swirling, chestnut-coloured liquid.

‘Is it a potion?’

‘I hope not.’ Ron frowned as he checked the label. ‘Nah, it says it’s liquorice pop.’

‘Urgh.’ Harry caught sound of those words and frowned at the bottle. ‘I hate that stuff. Who’s it from?’

‘Dobby,’ Ron said, surprised. ‘But the caps are really cool, you can flip them with your hand and they’ll do wicked stuff liked change colour.’

‘Can you show me?’ Toby grinned. ‘Please, please?’

‘Hold your hippogriffs; let me finishing opening these first.’ Ron smirked.

‘Oh, alright,’ Toby huffed and crossed his arms, which was a mood that barely lasted another second as the wrapping fell of the next gift to reveal yet another object the small boy had never seen before.

--

They had a little time before the group planned on heading to Hogsmeade for the afternoon, so following breakfast they wandered around the corridors to chat idly about the trip ahead and the fact that Ron had gathered the courage to break up with Lavender last night, with urging from Toby. It was news that had later caused cheers from the small child when Hermione had marched into the dormitory that morning to happily give Ron his birthday gift. Toby and Harry made an excuse about one thing or another in order to give the two reconciled friends a moment to talk and apologize.

As Harry and Ron were about to turn and head back to the dormitory, a second-year Ravenclaw boy hurried up to them while clutching to an oddly-shaped gift covered with gold wrapping.

‘Harry Potter?’ He stared at the teenager while Ron eyed the gift expectantly. ‘I was told to give this to you, as a thank-you gift.’

‘Who’s it from?’ Harry was suspicious as he accepted the object offered to him. ‘And what am I being thanked for?’

‘I was just told to deliver it.’ The sandy-haired boy shrugged and turned to hurry off to the other end of the corridor to join a huddle of classmates.

‘Well, what is it?’ Ron was a little put out that Harry received a gift on his birthday.

‘It’s one of those pops you got before.’ Harry frowned.

He had tried the liquorice pop cap trick that Ron had taught him and Toby all during breakfast; the cap had been fun as it fizzed and turned bright blue, but still the drink itself was no more appealing to Harry then it had been before.

‘If only it was raspberry.’ Harry sighed and was half-tempted to just toss it into the nearest bin.

He followed Ron up the stairs to their common room and rejoined Toby in the dormitory where the boy had just finished his assigned reading for that day. Dobby left once he saw Harry and had bid Ron a very virtuoso “Happy birthday”.

Placing the pop bottle on his nightstand, Harry wondered if he should have chucked it away since it probably wasn’t best to drink something when he wasn’t sure who the sender was (ignoring the fact that he hated that flavor anyway). And given his status as the Boy-Who-Lived, he knew the logic behind such a decision wasn’t impossible.

And the strange gift was the last thing on his mind when it suddenly occurred to Harry that Ron had stolen a box of cauldron cakes that had been left on the floor from when Harry had been going through his trunk for his Marauder’s Map earlier; they were also the same ones from Romilda Vane. The cakes she’d spiked with love potion in attempt to get him to take her to Slughorn’s Christmas Party.

‘What’s wrong with him?’ Toby panicked as the two teenage boys started arguing about the cakes and then Ron aimed a punch right at Harry, who dodged it enough to save his nose but not his right ear.

‘Stop it!’ Harry scowled and whipped out his wand without realizing it and thought the incantation: Levicorpus!

‘Harry!’ Toby rushed to his side and clutched to the Gryffindor’s robes, fearful of Ron for the first time since they had known each other.

‘What happened?’

‘He’s had a love potion and it’s making him act crazy.’ Harry placed a hand on Toby’s back to reassure him. ‘It’s okay; I’ll just have to brew an antidote for it.’

‘Let me down!’ Ron declared as he magically dangled upside-down by his heel and fought away his robes as they hung partially off him.

Harry ignored him and thought on how to handle the situation. He couldn’t take Ron to Madam Pomfrey as it would raise unwanted questions about having a Weasley product (which were banned, thanks to Filch), and while Slughorn was a more trustworthy option, Harry didn’t want to figure out how to get his friend there. Plus he had a stressed Toby with him and needed to calm the boy but couldn’t do that if he was elsewhere.

With a spark of relief, Harry remembered when Hermione had warned him about the love potions he had proceeded to brew an antidote in case there was a repeat of such.

‘Toby,’ Harry said importantly as he kept his wand trained on the frustrated, bewitched Ron. ‘Go to my trunk and find a vial of clear blue liquid labeled “Love Potion Antidote”, would you be able to read that?’

‘I think so.’ Toby nodded and slowly detached his hands from Harry’s robes as he moved to do as he was told, glad to be able to help in getting Ron back to normal.

‘Is this it?’ He carefully held up the correct vial and approached his brother when Harry nodded in conformation.

‘Ron.’ Harry turned back to him while gripping the vial. ‘If I let you down will you promise to calm yourself?’ He raised an eyebrow as he thought of something quickly. ‘I’ll give you a tonic and we’ll go see Romilda Vane.’

Those words calmed his redheaded friend immediately as the struggle stopped and goofy grin formed on the teenager’s face.

‘Yeah,’ Ron agreed.

Harry unceremoniously let Ron down and sighed when Toby dashed to hide behind him again. Holding out the vial, he watched Ron gulp it down and waited for the effects to take place, which thankfully didn’t take very long.

Seeing the devastated look on Ron’s face as Harry turned to make note of brewing another antidote just in case, Toby moved over to the pop bottle and held it out to Ron.

In the attempt to cheer up the other boy, Toby had unknowingly made a terrible mistake as the redhead accepted it and swallowed a large sip from the bottle.

‘Ron!’

Harry spun around at Toby’s shriek and saw his best friend collapse to the floor where he began to jerk uncontrollably while foam bubbled from his mouth and his eyes bulged.

While Toby began to cry in terror that he had killed Ron, Harry reacted quickly and snatched the last bezoar in his personal Potions kit and hurried back to Ron, shoving Toby aside. Crouched at Ron’s side, Harry yanked open Ron’s jaw and forced the bezoar into his mouth.

With a final shudder, the redheaded Gryffindor gasped and became limp.

Harry stepped back and lifted Toby against his hip to cradle the boy close as the child buried his head against him and sobbed garbled apologies. Ron coughed and sat upright, looking a bit dazed and ill. He didn’t say anything and Harry had a feeling the ordeal wasn’t over just yet.

Harry was tempted to vanish the offensive pop bottle but decided against it and called for Dobby. The house-elf didn’t have time to say anything as he was urgently ordered to fetch Madam Pomfrey without hesitation.

--

When the Mediwitch bustled into the room with Professor McGonagall at her side, Toby was with Dobby as the house-elf took him straight to Irma Pince in the library. Harry didn’t know how serious Irma had been about her lack of motherly tendencies towards her own son but hoped that with the passed time since then, she’d overcome the misery of her husband’s treatment and could at least keep her grandson occupied until Harry could fetch him.

For now, Harry's only concern was Ron.

No one wanted to hear any explanations further then “Ron’s been poisoned”, as the two witches put all their efforts into getting Ron to the hospital wing as quickly as magically possible. Making sure to bring the pop bottle with him as instructed, Harry hurried along after them and ignored the frantic questioning of the few remaining Gryffindors (most of the school had left for Hogsmeade by now), in which they passed along the way.

Harry wasn’t aware of much as he stood near the back clutching cautiously to the pop bottle and watched the others fuss over Ron. A few minutes later, Professor Dumbledore and Snape hurried into the room in answer to their summons from Professor McGonagall.

It was then that Harry received the full attention.

‘What happened, Harry?’ Dumbledore asked in a tone kinder than Snape’s hard expression as they all stared at him.

Ron was stabilized and although Madam Pomfrey was clearly listening to the conversation, she continued to fuss over his induced, unconscious form.

Harry paused for a moment, unsure if he should risk mentioning the love potion and yet knew that it could have an effect on whatever they gave Ron to counterattack the poison further if it was needed. Getting in trouble for a simple love potion was not worth avoiding if it could lead to his friend’s further harm or…death.

Shivering at the last word, Harry began to explain the best he could.

‘A Ravenclaw said he was told to deliver this to me as a thank-you present.’ Harry held up the bottle. Snape reached a hand for it and Harry handed it over, watching as the Potions Master sniffed it and gave Dumbledore a grave expression.

‘He didn’t say who it was from.’ Harry continued. ‘I didn’t dare drink it and I should’ve just tossed it. Instead, Ron and I went up to our dormitory to get ready for the trip to Hogsmeade and Ron ate some cauldron cakes filled with love potion. I had an antidote on hand since I’d been expecting something like that since Christmas.’ He sighed.

‘He was fine and ended up sipping from the pop drink and that’s when I realized his was poisoned.’

‘What did you do?’ McGonagall wondered. ‘He’d have died by the time we'd found him.’

‘I shoved a bezoar down his throat.’ Harry shrugged with an added frown as though to say “duh”, and turned to notice a bewildered look on Snape’s face as well as a somewhat amused one on Dumbledore’s.

‘That was smart thinking on your behalf, Harry.’ Dumbledore said with a hint of pride. ‘And it was lucky you had a bezoar with you at the time.’

‘I always make a habit of having one, sir.’ Harry reasoned as it was true.

‘Yes, very good thinking.’ Dumbledore repeated as he and McGonagall left to explain things to the older Weasleys who were likely to come bursting through the hospital wing doors at any minute.

This also left Harry and Snape relatively alone.

The professor was still holding the pop bottle as he firstly spoke importantly to Madam Pomfrey and then proceeded to wait on the opposite side of the room for the others to return.

Harry could not bring himself to sit in a chair beside Ron as he felt he’d betrayed his friend somehow by first not throwing away the bottle and second for not warning Toby of the dangers of weird gifts. He felt an incline of terror at the “what if” moment of Toby drinking the pop instead. The fact that their secret would be out was the least of Harry’s panics.

Seeing nothing else to do, Harry moved to stand a few feet from Snape’s right. A little bored yet anxious about the events that had occurred, Harry extracted his ingredient list from his pocket and made sure to add bezoars to his “order/buy” column. He glanced sideways at Snape for a moment but the wizard appeared to be ignoring his presence entirely.

Harry's right hand felt itchy and he scratched at it, only to pause as the lines caused from his Unbreakable Vow with Draco were once again visible. He hadn’t remembered reading anything about something like this happening and for a moment felt freaked that he was about to die from the cause of breaking the vow.

Except it hadn’t been broken…wait!

Draco never told him the information he was supposed to and Harry hadn’t noticed until now; he had been so flustered over the Vow when it had happened that Harry just wanted to get away from it and then he’d bumped into Snape and…

‘Could you please tell Dumbledore I’ll be back in a minute?’ Harry said hurriedly to Snape as he didn’t wait for a response and rushed from the hospital wing.

He was unaware that the professor had cast a non-verbal spell in which aimed to prove that the marks which had once been on the teenager’s arm was indeed the cause of an Unbreakable Vow.

He had done the same to Draco the previous night when the teenager had fallen asleep by the fire in the Slytherin common room.

Severus had to remain behind in order to brief Dumbledore and reassure the adult Weasleys that their son was likely to live (He couldn’t see why he had to be the one to do it), and was unable to depart the Hospital Wing because of that. Perhaps he should go after Potter to make sure he didn’t attack Malfoy or something similar, given their history of endless disagreements and over-reactions.

Ah well, perhaps they won’t knock each other out and Severus would live another day to hand out deserving detentions to annoying brats that deemed themselves invincible?

Or maybe he was being too hopeful?

Either way, the boys were likely to end up back in this ward anyhow and it was far more productive to merely wait where he was. Yes, Severus was certain that this was the best course of action - Dumbledore’s moral blabbering be damned; Severus was tired of chasing after those two boys and was through with putting so much effort into preventing something so dreadfully inevitable.

‘Where did Potter go?’ Poppy asked Severus as she rejoined him a moment later, looking around for the boy.

‘No idea.’ Severus said simply with a plausible expression of innocence.

It was strange though, how clearly Poppy did not believe him.

‘Malfoy!’ Harry called out as he burst into the Great Hall where lunch was taking place.

He was incredibly thankful that the Slytherin hadn’t decided to head off to Hogsmeade yet, making his search for the blonde short and private - since other students were yet to arrive in the hall and the other staff members were absent; likely down at the village themselves.

‘What, Potter?’ Draco scowled at him.

‘What does this mean?’ Harry held out his right hand, which now looked perfectly normal and untouched.

‘That some hungry, vicious creature is yet to eat your hand off?’ Draco asked with deep agitation. ‘Is this some sort of joke? Sod off!’

‘No…the marks,’ Harry frowned. ‘The lines from the Vow were visible when I was in the Hospital Wing just now.’

‘So? You’re obviously fine. Although, I’d appreciate it if you wouldn’t declare the state of our arrangement for all to hear.’ Draco rolled his eyes and moved to shove by Harry; the blonde instead paused and spoke again without turning.

‘Why were you in the Hospital Wing?’

‘Because Ron was...hang on, it was you, wasn’t it!’ Harry accused angrily and marched around to glare at his rival.

‘You tried to poison me! You send that Ravenclaw kid to deliver the bottle disguised as a thank-you gift!’ He raised his tone, fueled with so much anger that he didn’t care if anyone had been able to hear him, were they not alone.

‘The bottle of liquorice pop?’ Draco frowned. ‘Yeah, I sent that kid to deliver it-‘ He jumped back as Harry’s wand was suddenly aimed his way.

‘I didn’t poison it!’ Draco quickly added as he pondered on making a risky reach for his own wand.

‘Do you think I’d be foolish enough not to take better methods of concealing my identity if I had done it? And why would I want you dead when you’re yet to give me the information I want, in accordance to our agreement?’ Draco said.

‘Then why send it at all?’ Harry didn’t believe him for a second, even if such a confession would be rather strange and the Slytherin did have a point about the identity thing.

‘Because you hate that stuff,’ Draco explained. He was a little calmer as Harry was yet to hex his nose off.

‘I made mention of how funny it would be if you drank it by mistake since the last time you did it was rather dramatic.’

Harry remembered trying that vile stuff in third year and Draco had been there to laugh at the sight of his spitting it back out, all over Neville, and nearly gagging.

Harry was yet to forgive Seamus for making him taste that particular magical flavored pop in the first place.

‘Someone must’ve overheard me planning to switch the labels and sneak it to you.’ Draco looked to be rather livid himself now.

‘Which means another Slytherin had intended to set me up! Snape’s going to be furious; I hope he bloody expels them.’ He growled.

‘And they tried to kill me.’ Harry believed Draco and lowered his wand.

‘Yeah, that too,’ Draco commented rather dismissively. ‘Wait, if you’re still breathing then why were you in the Hospital Wing? You mentioned Weasley?’

‘Yeah, Ron drank it.’ Harry said as he turned and began to make his way back to the infirmary, surprised yet silent about the fact that Draco trailed along beside him.

‘I gave him a bezoar so I think he’ll be okay.’ He hoped and prayed with all his might, actually.

--

Severus had just finished briefing Dumbledore and the Weasleys further when the two teenagers joined the group.

Harry instantly backed away from the sudden appearance of the crowd and turned shy while Draco remained by his side, clearly unsure about something.

There were no injuries; in fact the boys had even put their wands away. Severus could do nothing in reaction other then stare.

'Harry!' Molly spotted him and without even noticing Draco, she rushed over and grabbed hold of Harry to give him a tight hug.

'Dumbledore's told us how you saved him with the bezoar,' she sobbed. 'Oh, Harry, what can we say? You saved Ginny...you saved Arthur...now you've saved Ron...'

'Don't be...I didn't...' Harry felt very awkward and decided to remain silent as she continued to embrace him.

He patted her back lightly and looked over at Snape, noticing the pop bottle that clearly had the correct labeling. As Mrs Weasley backed away, he turned to Draco and inclined his head towards the evidence, causing the blonde to narrow his eyebrows at the bottle with offense when he noticed what the Gryffindor had.

'Half our family does seem to owe you their lives, now I stop and think about it.' Arthur added to Harry in a compressed tone. 'Well, all I can say is that it was a lucky day for the Weasleys when Ron decided to sit in you compartment on the Hogwarts Express, Harry.'

Only barely hearing the Weasleys now, Harry politely edged away from the group, especially as Hagrid was moving closer as well. He’d never had a real problem with masses of people before unless they were all pointing and whispering about him, and yet now he longed for the solitude of a singular conversation.

And he didn’t feel comfortable being constantly thanked for such simple acts, even if such had saved the lives of others.

‘Mr Malfoy, do you need something?’ Poppy was the first to really notice Draco, which halted all other conversations as everyone turned to stare at the blonde Slytherin.

‘Oh…’ Draco swallowed and inched backwards in reflex to the sudden looks of suspicion being throw his way.

‘We need to speak to Professor Snape.’ Harry offered.

All eyes fell on Snape, who raised an eyebrow of intrigue towards the two teenagers as he handed the pop bottle to Dumbledore.

‘Very well.’ Severus nodded and walked out of the infirmary with the two whispering boys following behind him.

He paused in a vacant corridor and turned sharply to stare at them, wondering what this could possibly about. He was surprised yet somewhat expectant as they detailed to him what they knew, how Draco had intended to prank Harry by switching the labels and yet the one that had been poisoned had the proper label; that one had certainly not come from Draco.

All that was left to do was to inform Dumbledore and locate the young Ravenclaw boy in which had delivered the bottle.

‘Can I go now?’ Harry asked once they were finished, looking rather anxious to get away even as the Weasleys were visiting (the twins included), and Ron was in the hospital wing.

‘I mean, I expect Ron’ll be sleeping for a while so I thought I’d go to Hogsmeade and…get a cheering up gift for him, or something.’ Harry added hurriedly.

Yes, Severus noticed, the Gryffindor was getting much better at lying.

‘You may.’ Severus nodded and watched the boy hurry away. He turned his stern gaze to Draco and narrowed his eyes dangerously.

‘You and I are going to have a little talk, Mr Malfoy.’

‘I didn’t poison him!’ Draco huffed.

‘Do you think I’d be so obvious about it if I had? I know Potter hates that flavor! Besides, he was playing with the cap in the Great Hall; someone must have mistaken it or something and knew about my plan. Only a Slytherin could have done it. They set ME up!’

‘Precisely,’ Severus nodded. ‘I do not doubt your innocence in this matter, Mr Malfoy; however, we must discover who instead IS responsible.’

‘Oh.’ Draco’s anger shrank back. ‘Right, yeah…’ He sighed.

--

‘How is he?’ Harry asked breathlessly as he gripped the counter in the library that separated Irma and himself.

‘Withdrawn,’ Irma sighed. ‘And he blames himself, of course. The poor boy is convinced you hate him.’

‘Bloody hell,’ Harry breathed and ignored Irma’s expression of disapproval towards his use of language.

‘Where is he?’

Harry followed Irma behind the portrait and into her private rooms, taking only a brief moment to look around before his gaze fell on the still-sobbing child that was curled up on the sofa, facing away from his unknown company.

‘Toby?’ Harry asked softly.

The boy gasped and quickly turned around, almost falling off the couch as he straightened and stared wide-eyed, tearfully at his brother. He looked ready to run to Harry but instead bit his lip and stared miserably at the floor.

‘Ron’s going to be fine.’ Harry tried. ‘And it was an accident. I should have warned you about the dangers of gifts if you don’t know who they’re from.’

Toby peaked through his hair as he looked shyly at Harry, hope and uncertainty marking his features as he listened, encouraging Harry to continue.

‘I know who it was from now, and it had just been a joke at first but then someone else poisoned it to get to me.’ Harry explained.

Irma shook her head from behind him, annoyed by the nerve of some people who would do such a thing inside a school, and the foolishness of doing so while Dumbledore was the headmaster.

‘Why?’ Toby sniffed as he wiped his sleeve along his nose. 

Irma cringed as she left the room and returned to her duties as librarian, trusting the boys as it was unlikely they could cause much trouble in her rooms at that moment.

‘I don’t know.’ Harry sighed. ‘Probably because they’re bad and support Voldemort. I’m fighting against him, and I’m the Boy-Who-Lived.’

He cracked a small smile when Toby no longer fought the urge to lunge at him and the boy squeezed him as tightly around the middle as he could.

‘I-I’m so s-sorry!’ Toby sobbed. ‘I-I didn’t know…I d-didn’t mean t-to!’

‘Shh, it’s okay Toby.’ Harry picked the boy up and cuddled him close, relieved that the child was okay and things were getting better.

‘No one blames you and we all know it was an accident.’

--

After ten minutes of consoling Toby, Harry put the boy back down and cheered him up with the prospect of going to Hogsmeade as they still had time to do so.

When they turned to leave, Harry paused and wondered why he suddenly had an odd feeling about the room they were in; nothing had changed about it and yet the bookcase containing large, important-looking leather books seemed to be more interesting then they had on first glance, not because of their titles but because somehow Harry felt it could be important to him.

‘Harry?’ He felt Toby tugging at his hand and pulled his attention away from the strange bookcase.

‘Right, I’m coming.’ Harry smiled and followed the boy out of the rooms.

The following day brought about surprise for most of the school when a seventh year Slytherin boy had been expelled for attempting to poison a student, and the second year Ravenclaw who had delivered it had been punished with detentions for his foolishness of being involved in the matter.

Harry paid little attention to the fuss during breakfast as he had enough on his mind as he tried to deal everything at once: Hagrid was upset about Aragog's health getting worst, Peeves had taken to tossing ink bottles at him on the way to breakfast (Harry was still trying to remove all of the stains of green with his wand as he ate), Lavender stalked him whining about one thing or another to do with Ron, Cormac McLaggen was going to be playing as Keeper because Ron was still in the hospital wing, Hermione was feeling guilty for not being there when Ron needed her, Draco was casual one minute then an hour later he was back to his usual sneering self, Harry hadn’t been able to spent any time with Toby since they had returned to the castle after a short Hogsmeade trip, many others had heard of his quick-acting with the bezoar and labeled him the perfect person to seek advice from, and on top of all that…Harry planned to gather the restocks for his personal potions kit but hadn’t a clue when he’d be able to find the time or peace in which to do so.

And as yet another person turned to badger to him over one thing or another, Harry thrust down his fork and found himself unable to contain his tolerance any further.

Rising from his seat, he cast a Snape-worthy glare down at them all and cared nothing for the scene he was causing that captured the attention of the entire hall.

‘Can’t you all solve your own bloody problems for a change?’ Harry scowled. ‘I’m only one person and I’ve got my own things to deal with!’

He huffed and left his meal forgotten as he turned and stormed from the hall, only just catching a few last words from the others as he went.

‘Heesh, did you see the look on his face?’

‘Yeah, it reminded me of Snape!’

‘Snape? Merlin, Potter must be under stress!’

‘I’d be too, having to deal with all us sods harassing him day and night.’

‘Still, he IS The-Boy-Who-Lived! He’s Harry Potter!’

‘Yeah, though he doesn’t seem like it much lately, does he?’

It had all come from the Gryffindor table and Harry hated that they were right.

He didn’t look like himself and he certainly didn’t act it either. But in all his reasoning, he had the visible features of Snape because of his hair and potion-conditioned appearance such his paled skin and whatever else they were noticing. And his snappy attitude was a result of little sleep and too much stress all coupled together; it would irk anyone to the brink of shouting, he reckoned.

 Turning on his heel, Harry stormed up to his dormitory to get ready for his research, barely paying any attention to Toby at all.

The small child sat on Harry’s bed as he held Felix close and watched Harry leave.

Toby remembered when Hermione had explained to him that Harry had a lot of work to do and sometimes that gave him less time to do the things he wanted, but the boy was also smarter then even Hermione gave him credit for.

Toby knew some of the things Harry wanted to do, but didn’t have to, included brewing potions and researching in the library for new draughts and brews in which to try. He seemed to find the perfect amount of time for all of that, yet not to play with Toby, read to him, or even ask about his day.

So when Harry returned after lunch, Toby pounced at the opportunity.

‘Harry, can we go to the Astronomy Tower now?’ Toby eagerly rushed forward. ‘You promised you would and that was ages ago!’

True, the Gryffindor had said at least a full month ago that he would take him up there, to show the boy the tower he’d heard others mentioning how one could see the grounds from the tower and it was such a great sight.

‘Please?’

‘Not now.’ Harry said dismissively as he bustled around for his cloak.

‘I have to study. And I need to finish my Transfiguration essay. Why don’t you go spent time with nana?’

That was something Irma had asked the small boy to call him, and because he’d heard Toby say it so much, Harry had taken to referring her by that name as well.

Now, she encouraged it as she had told them that to her, they were both her grandsons.

‘I don’t wanna!’ Toby pouted. ‘I miss you. Can we go after dinner?’

‘I’ll be too tired.’ Harry reasoned. ‘I’ve got Quidditch practice up until dinner.’

‘But you promised.’ Toby’s mood sank as he watched Harry leave again.

The teenager hadn’t even looked at him. Lowering his eyes to the floor, Toby sniffed and reached to pick up Felix to hug him closely. He just wanted to go to the tower and have a look, what was so hard about that?

In fact, he could probably do it himself as all he had to do was find it, climb a lot of stairs and then…

‘Come on, Felix.’ Toby said to his cat.

‘We can go ourselves; Harry probably won’t even notice if we’re gone since he’ll be busy until after dinner.’ He reasoned as he put his cat down and carefully began to search through Harry’s trunk until he found the Marauder’s Map.

‘I…what was it?’ Toby tried to remember what he had heard Harry say to make the magical map work for him.

‘I solemnly swear that I’m up to no good.’

The boy’s face lit up with awe as the words and locations formed on the parchment, as well as the labeled dots of those who walked around the castle and grounds.

He saw Harry heading to the dungeons instead of the library and frowned.

‘We don’t need him.’ Toby huffed as he snatched the invisibility cloak as well.

‘It was just me before Harry and I’ll be okay for a little bit. I have the map and the cloak.’ He nodded as he placed the cloak over himself and clutched the map on his way out of the dormitory. Felix dutifully followed along behind him.

No one would find it suspicious that a cat was wondering around the castle, especially since there wasn’t a single person who would even recognized it. Actually, Hagrid or Snape might, but Toby doubted he’d come across either of them on his way to the tower as the half-giant lived and worked outside while Snape usually stayed down in the dungeons, from what he’d heard.

Grunting with the effort of holding the cloak over himself and using the map, Toby had to pause several times whenever he reached a flaming torch to make sure he was going the right way.

And quite often he realized that he was becoming rather lost, as well as the fact that the Marauder’s Map wasn’t as easy to read and figure out as Harry had made it appear to be.

After a seemingly long period of time, Toby and Felix stared upwards at the bottom of the long flight of stairs that led to the Astronomy tower.

 The small cat looked up at his owner with dread (it couldn’t see the boy, but knew where he was based on scent and hearing), while Toby stared with his mouth hanging partially open. He couldn’t remember Harry telling him that there had been THAT many to climb!

Yet his determination to see the sights he heard of would not falter as the small boy whispered “mischief managed” to the map and tucked it away in the pockets of his robes.

He began to ascend those many, seemingly endless steps.

Upon finally reaching the top, the exhausted yet exhilarated Toby realized that he and Felix were not alone.

‘Is somebody there?’

‘It’s me!’ Toby pulled off the cloak and smiled at her. ‘Hello, Luna.’

‘Oh, hello Toby,’ Luna smiled down at the boy.

‘I thought I had noticed your cat and you’re much too big to be a nargle. Where is Dobby, or Harry?’ She noticed the obvious absence of the two.

‘They were too busy.’ Toby said quickly.

It was true that Harry was off doing something else but he hadn’t used Dobby to get him to the tower because the house-elf would likely report back to Harry or even stop him.

‘Does Harry know you’re here?’ Luna wondered and looked the most focused Toby had ever seen her, as though she already knew he wasn’t supposed to be there and disapproved.

‘Of course,’ Toby lied rather easily.

He felt a bit guilty about it as Luna was his friend and had he asked her, he was sure she might have brought him up here without him having to sneak off to do it on his own.

Except he wasn't on his own, Toby reminded himself as he looked down at his cat.

‘You better keep the cloak on, of course.’ Luna smiled. ‘You never know who might find you, especially nargles.’

Toby didn’t know what a nargle was, but he didn’t fancy being caught by one of those either.

He placed the cloak back over himself and was glad he was invisible when Luna told him that he should call Dobby because he would have denied it or had to lie again.

Once she left, he turned and hurried to the edge of the tower but could not see quite as well over the railing as he tightly gripped his object of concealment that flapped only a tiny bit in the cool wind.

Tossing off the cloak again, Toby carefully climbed the railing like a ladder and perched his chin just over the top in order to see out over the grounds.

It was every bit as beautiful, vast and stunning as he had been told, and more.

‘I can hardly see the need in which to have such a conversation here.’ Came a voice that nearly caused Toby to topple over the edge of the railing.

Slipping down and landing hard on the floor, Toby quickly gathered the cloak and threw it over himself just in time to scurry out of sight towards the side of the landing.

A split second later, Dumbledore walked into view as Snape trailed behind him with the very appearance of someone who was annoyed, not that Snape ever really looked much different.

‘One does grow tired of sitting in an office all day.’ Dumbledore replied.

His gaze shifted around the area, just as Snape’s did because they had each heard a sound from within, yet it was apparently empty.

‘I am astounded that you would risk a meddling student overhearing something they should not.’ Severus said as he eyed his mentor and also cast a privacy spell or two around the area, just in case. Seeing the twinkling gaze in the headmaster’s eyes, he realized that the man had expected him to cast those spells and had likely already added his own.

‘And how is the boy?’ Dumbledore turned to their conversation at hand. ‘I assume his grades in your class are still rivaled by those he receives in Potions?’

‘As ironic as that may be, yes.’ Severus frowned.

‘Potter has even taken to answering an occasional question in which I present to the class. I must admit, it is rather refreshing to be able to call upon someone other than Miss Granger, even if it is Potter.’

Dumbledore chuckled at this while Severus continued to stare at him with unconcealed irritation.

‘Headmaster, I must confess myself discouraged towards this war if its greatest leader appears to have lost faith in his greatest pawn.’

‘A pawn, really, Severus?’ Dumbledore frowned. ‘Were you referring to yourself or Harry?’

‘One may have more than a single pawn, Headmaster.’ Severus said bitterly.

‘I find it saddening that you would underestimate your own value as well as Harry’s by assuming yourselves to be nothing more than mere objects in which one would use to achieve an end.’ Dumbledore sighed.

‘You will always be needed, Severus. Please do not doubt that.’

‘And the boy?’ Severus asked softly while fiddling his fingers as he hid his face behind his curtains of hair.

‘I seem to recall a young Potions Master who once said that a child will always be a child, no matter what the old expect them to do?’ Dumbledore raised his eyebrows at Severus.

‘The concern of Lord Voldemort’s immortality is almost entirely dealt with. Therefore, it seems I have found a way around Harry’s involvement in the war…up until the very end.’

‘And yet you are not training him, nor preparing the boy for such a battle?’ Severus scowled.

‘Is your intention only to arm Harry with nothing more then his righteous sense of self-sacrifice?’

‘Why, Severus,’ Dumbledore smiled. ‘It seems you have come to care for the boy after all, or should I pretend not to have heard the title you have now assumed for the child?’

‘It was a…mistake.’ Severus mentally fumed to himself for slipping; in his own defense, he had been rather annoyed and wasn’t thinking quite as clearly as he should have been.

‘You are yet to answer my question.’

‘It is not one in which requires an answer.’ Dumbledore said firmly as Toby shuddered worriedly in the corner several feet away.

‘When the time comes for Harry to do what needs to be done, there is nothing more I could have prepared him for.’ Dumbledore said sadly.

‘In the end, everything he needs…Harry already has.’

Not much more was said after that as Toby remained as still as possible.

Dumbledore left first but Snape remained as he gave the area another scan with his obsidian gaze until it rested on a spot a few inches to Toby’s left.

‘Meow,’ Felix approached the man and stared up at him with its usual olive eyes and penetrating stare.

Snape narrowed his gaze with recognition and stepped closer until he was barely a foot from where Toby was fighting to control his hyperventilation.

The boy stared with wide, terrified eyes as Snape bent and reached a hand towards him, getting closer and closer until…

Pop!

‘Oh, hello,’ Dobby seemed only briefly unnerved by the sight of Professor Snape, who instantly straightened and turned to glare at the elf.

‘Is you needing anything, sir?’

‘No.’ Severus frowned at the creature and turned to leave the tower.

He was convinced that he had heard something – or someone – in that corner and yet did not dare to investigate further when Dumbledore was expecting him at the bottom of the stairs.

The arrival of a very particular elf was far too precise in its timing to be mere co-incidence.

Severus was adamant that whoever that cat belonged to, they knew Potter and he was certain that for a brief second he’d touched the silvery material of the brat’s invisibility cloak.

Perhaps he should have kept Dumbledore waiting, because whoever had been up there – if anyone, although he was certain of it – had just overheard their conversation.

‘Master Harry Potter has been looking for you, young Toby.’ Dobby turned to the invisible boy and shook his head.

‘Master is very worried and is asking Dobby to find you. Dobby is lucky to have seen Miss Luna Lovegood on his search for you.’ The elf added as the Ravenclaw girl had been very helpful, even if it wouldn’t have taken him very long to locate the boy, especially when Harry was certain he knew where Toby might have gone.

‘Master Harry Potter is not happy to be finding that Young Toby stole Harry Potter’s cloak and map.’ Dobby added.

‘You is to be coming with me now.’

‘Is he really mad with me?’ Toby winced as he felt a bad feeling swell in his tummy that reminded him strangely of guilt, yet it was much stronger.

‘Master Harry Potter will be pleased that young Toby is safe.’ Dobby said as he held one of Toby’s hands, which was a similar size as his own.

And the elf was right, of course, that while Harry was livid and freaked out (apparently it had taken Ron a whole ten minutes to calm him down and put away his wand before they could think rationally and begin their search for the boy), he was more relieved then anything that Toby was okay and hadn’t been caught.

The boy listened tearfully to his brother lecture about what could have gone wrong and felt terrible for it. And yet even after receiving an early bed time and being grounded for a month, Toby could not remain too miserable as he eagerly wanted to tell Harry about what he had overheard between Professor Dumbledore and Snape.

Despite the boy’s punishments, he and Harry ended up talking about the subject well into the night.

By the time they finally lay down to sleep, Harry had a smile on his face for the first time that day because he now believed Toby; there wasn’t anything bad about Snape at all, he was merely a man who had suffered a lot and continued to push by his own dark history.

In fact, as Harry stared towards the starry window, he could not help the strange bubble of warmth that heated his stomach and boosted his mood as he recited one part of Toby’s tale in his mind, over and over…

Professor Snape had called him “Harry”.

He helped Toby dress for the occasion (the boy wanted to show his support of Harry by wearing Gryffindor colours, and was thrilled to be able to see the match this time since they had both missed the one against Slytherin), before he passed the boy over to Hermione and Dobby’s capable care.

Harry was supposed to be heading down for breakfast but was unable to move away from the bathroom mirror as he stared angrily at his hair. Its length had been no real issue since he’d let it grow out, other than having to keep an eye on when to trim it and the fact that brushing took a few seconds longer than usual; he’d even come to find comfort in the delusion that if it curtained his face like Snape’s did then he was further shielded from the things around him that he wished to ignore.

Now it was proving to be a hassle as Harry pondered on the elastic band he gripped in his fist and tried to determine if the embarrassment of tying his hair back into a short ponytail was really worth the ability to see during the match.

Feeling he owed his team for his absence in the previous match, Harry grasped his hair and tied it back before he hurried from the Gryffindor tower and headed for the Great Hall.

The looks that followed him were not-so-easily ignored without his hair to make him feel better, especially when it was his hair in which had caused the reactions.

Sighing, Harry sat at the table and hurriedly ate his brief meal of eggs and toast before he was on his feet again. He ventured to the Hospital Wing to check on Ron before he would head down to the pitch for the match, in which he really wished McLaggen had nothing to do with.

The conversation was short as Madam Pomfrey came to fuss over Ron and insist that he could not go down to watch the match, lest it overexcite him, which would do his recovery no good.

By the time Harry shook hands with the Hufflepuff Captain and kicked off from the ground the moment he heard Madam Hooch’s whistle, Harry began to feel rather anxious. Not just because McLaggen was still bossing everyone around and being downright irritating, nor was he lacking confidence in his team or the outcome of the game, but because Toby was down there somewhere in the open, amongst the crowd. He knew Hermione had a potion she intended to use to help the boy blend in and Dobby would be keeping a stern lookout, but still Harry worried.

He had to catch the snitch as soon as possible, to ease the burden of McLaggen and also to make sure Toby was fine.

‘And that’s Smith of Hufflepuff with the Quaffle,’ The female voice that offered commentary of the match was unmistakably Luna.

Harry to chuckled as he listened to her for only a moment.

After shouting at McLaggen at least twice while still trying to search the skies and pitch for the snitch, Harry turned to cast the crowd another anxious scan. He could see the masses of Gryffindors cheering and it was naturally impossible to spot a few particular people amongst them.

Passing by a stand, he saw several teachers seated to watch the match and shared a brief glanced with Snape as he flew by.

‘Seventy-forty to Hufflepuff!’ McGonagall interrupted whatever Luna had previously been saying about Smith, to announce the score.

‘Is it, already?’ Luna glanced towards the actual match. ‘Oh, look! The Gryffindor Keeper’s got hold of one of the Beater’s bats!’

Harry did a second-take and swerved around to glare at McLaggen. Harry, remembering the significant expression Snape had given him a brief moment ago, flew forward and took matters into his own hands. He had tolerated quite enough from McLaggen and wasn’t going to let that idiot ruin the match.

‘Give him back his bat and get back to the goalposts!’ Harry snarled as he moved closer to his Keeper and Beater.

Fixing McLaggen with his best Snape-glare as he cleared his throat to adjust his tone to what Harry hoped would be rather menacing.

‘If you so much of screw one more thing up or tell yet another person what to do then I will call a time out and have you removed without any shred of dignity, do you understand?’ Harry said in a lower, perfectly clear tone. ‘Do your bloody job because so far it’s the only thing this team isn’t getting right!’ He snapped.

‘STOP INTERFERING!’ Harry added in a roaring tone, drowning out the words of Luna thinking his “arguing with the Keeper is unlikely to help him find the snitch”, as well as the cheers coming from the Slytherin and Hufflepuff stands in reaction to her words.

McLaggen, stunned and yet still rather annoyed, watched Harry as he bluntly heard every word. And by some miracle (Harry must have done the expression and tone right), the Keeper turned on his broom and headed back to the goalposts after giving Peakes’s bat back.

‘Thanks.’ The Beater nodded and rushed off to trail a bludger that was aiming for Ginny.

‘No problem.’ Harry muttered as he returned to his post above the pitch and continued his own task of locating the snitch.

--

As the match progressed, Gryffindor caught up in the scores and no one could believe that McLaggen had actually listened to Harry, but then again, no one had seen the look of utter venom on the Gryffindor Captain’s face when he’d spoken those threatening words. Harry wondered just how effective it had really been and made a mental note to check it in the mirror later.

Just as he spotted a streak of gold against blue, the worst possible thing happened and at the most inconvenient time.

Harry heard a voice, a whisper, and then a creak of twig against foot. He was hovering a great deal of height above the ground of the pitch and yet they were clearer then the roaring crowd around him. His mind felt strange as there was a pull and suddenly everything began to cloud around him.

A vision; something Harry had not experienced in a long time and by no means wanted to experience right now…

--

‘Are you sure?’ The voice whispered again as a scene of a dark room formed into view inside Harry’s mind.

‘Yes, that’s what I was told,’ said a woman concealed in the shadows cast by the large walls around them and the lack of actual light.

Suddenly Harry was outside, looking over at the Mansion that loomed above the hedge and forest scenery. He felt pleased and yet oddly at unease about being there, as though he was where he was supposed to be but at the wrong moment.

‘My lord!’ A man clothed in black rushed to his side and bowed. ‘Is it true?’

‘Yes.’ Harry spoke but it was Voldemort’s voice in which he heard.

‘Dumbledore is posing to be a far greater threat then I had anticipated. It seems he is no longer sending the boy to fight his hopeful battles.’

‘Harry Potter?’ The man swallowed nervously. ‘But, My Lord-‘

‘CRUCIO!’

Harry knew he was in a vision and tried to fight his way out of it, with little success. He also couldn’t help but wonder what was going on as this was the first one he’d witnessed in which was difficult to make out. Words and scenes shifted or became blurred, until he was neither there nor here, hearing not a full sentence yet no less than several words.

The next moment he was aware of everything as he stared down at the sight of a girl not much older than himself, crying and pleading to be spared as she’d had no idea that it would be wrong, that Dumbledore would get there first.

And he could not bear to witness the sight of yet another murdered innocence, therefore Harry did the only thing he thought would save him from it – he tried to get away. He had never done it before with the visions because he wanted – needed – to know what Voldemort was doing and often searched for any clues on to how to stop it. But this could not be stopped, no matter how Harry wished he could do something – anything - to save that girl.

‘Think of something else.’ Harry thought to himself although it sounded as a voice inside his own mind that slowly began to alter the vision and sounds once again.

‘Where was I? Who was I with?’ He couldn’t remember, so he tried to focus on something he could never forget and thought of frequently.

‘I miss my parents.’ Harry sighed and concentrated on photos he had memorized of them, only to discover that a single one of his mother laughing mutely to towards him, was powerful; enough to cause the vision to fade like smoke gushing out of a ventilation slot.

--

And suddenly, with a jerking pain in his head, Harry’s eyes snapped open.

He became accustomed to the fact that he was on his back, resting on a warm and comfortable bed in the Hospital Wing.

‘Nice of you to drop in,’ Ron grinned at him when Harry sat upright and glanced over at his friend.

Harry said nothing as he blinked and rubbed the soreness of his scar, though it was beginning to fade in a way he’d never felt it do before; much like a cut quickly sealing itself closed, replacing the stinging with mere numbness.

Gasping with the relief of leaving the vision yet guilty he could not save the girl, Harry laid his head back against the light pillow and stared towards his side, away from Ron.

‘What happened?’ Harry's voice sounded deeper then he was used to, as though a change had overcome him during the past few hours since he had been looking for the snitch and then battling his mind with Voldemort.

‘Not sure.’ Ron replied as Madam Pomfrey rushed over.

‘You fainted.’ She told Harry, who only barely heard her as his mind tried to regain itself from the events that had occurred

‘And fell a hundred or so feet, which would have been worst had your teammates not caught you in time.’ Pomfrey fussed with obvious disapproval.

‘It’s nothing to worry about now, but I’m keeping you in overnight.’ She sounded stern and yet even Ron had noticed the uncertainty in her tone. Pomfrey knew his state was fine now but hadn’t a clue as to what had caused it; someone who had been playing Quidditch as long as Harry had and with his level of talent did not just faint in the middle of a match.

‘You shouldn’t overexert yourself for a few hours.’ The Mediwitch added.

‘I don’t want to stay here overnight,’ Harry told her angrily as he thought about Toby and the reason he had been so distracted in the match.

He sat upright again and threw off his covers as though to prove his point about wanting to leave.

‘I have to find McLaggen and kill him.’ He growled.

‘I’m afraid that would come under the heading of “overexertion”, Potter.’ Pomfrey made a move to push him firmly back to the bed, but he effectively dodged it and headed for the door, which shut just beyond his reach.

He felt himself being magically returned to the bed where no amount of annoyance would enable him to leave it.

‘You WILL stay here until I discharge you, Potter.’ Pomfrey threatened with her wand out while Ron watched on warily. ‘Or I shall call the Headmaster.’

‘Go on, then.’ Harry challenged. ‘Call him. I don’t care. I can’t stay here!’

Staring at him for a moment, Pomfrey saw she had no choice if she wanted to get a moment of peace without having to watch him every minute.

‘Very well,’ she marched into her office to do exactly that.

‘Are you sure-?’ Ron gasped at his friend.

‘Do you know how many points we lost the match by?’ Harry distracted Rom as he spoke through clenched teeth.

‘Well, yeah I do,’ Ron sighed. ‘Final score was two hundred and seventy to one hundred and ninety.’

Harry had no time to comment as Pomfrey returned with an agitated expression and her wand still at grasp. Beside her were Professors Dumbledore and Snape.

‘Why’s he here?’ Harry indicated to Snape in a rather disrespectful tone.

Really, he had nothing against the man these days, but given what had happened to cause his current situation, Harry was not in the mood to hear the man sneer about his poor Occlumency skills. And honestly, whose fault was it that he’d had terrible teaching in the subject? Harry refused to believe otherwise.

‘Potter!’ Pomfrey scowled. ‘I’ve had quite enough of your attitude.’

‘As have I.’ Severus was surprised by the sudden glare that marked the boy’s features.

‘However, I am yet to find an efficient method in which to silence the boy, short of a few select spells, Madam.’ He told the Mediwitch in a sarcastic tone. ‘Rest assured that your lecture shall fall upon deaf ears.’

‘Hmph!’ Pomfrey had already explained the situation to Dumbledore and therefore had no further reason to stay as she stormed off to her office, muttering under her breath as she went.

‘Harry, there is little reason to be angry at Madam Pomfrey.’ Concern etched across Dumbledore’s face as he spoke. ‘She is merely doing her job to ensure that you make a speedy recovery.’

‘But I feel fine.’ Harry insisted.

‘What happened, mate?’ Ron said, earning himself a glare from Snape for his sudden interruption. ‘Some say it was a bludger that did it.’

‘It was bloody Voldemort, that’s what!’ Harry crossed his arms, not sure why he was suddenly so annoyed but somehow it felt justified.

‘A vision?’ Dumbledore guessed.

While Severus seemed calm and calculating, secretly he was praying over and over that none of what he was hearing would eventually involve anything along the lines of further Occlumency lessons. No matter the hold Dumbledore had over him, Severus simply refused to head down that road again.

Not after what happened last time.

‘It was different somehow.’ Harry calmed the more he spoke about it, as though his thoughts were elsewhere; it was not the best impression to give off, given the topic of discussion that was taking place.

‘Different, how?’ Dumbledore encouraged.

‘I dunno; it wasn’t as clear.’ Harry shrugged. ‘It all kept changing and sometimes I could hear what was going on and the others it was sort of…blurred.’ He used the word that had been the best way to describe it.

‘Blurred?’ Severus echoed, bringing the Gryffindors attention to himself, despite it being exactly what he had been trying not to do. ‘How do you mean?’

‘I don’t know!’ Harry frowned and rubbed at his tingling forehead again.

‘I didn’t like what I saw so I…I must’ve done something because it got harder to make everything out and then I woke up.’ He looked over at Ron as though expecting his friend to say he had shaken him awake or something similar.

‘It wasn’t me.’ Ron said. ‘I didn’t do anything; you just sort of groaned a bit and woke up. I wondered if you were having a bad dream or something.’

‘What were you thinking of, before you woke up?’ Dumbledore questioned. ‘If you expressed the desire to leave, how did you attempt to go about it?’

‘I tried to pull away at first.’ Harry remembered, wondering why it was so important.

Isn’t this what they wanted him to do? Stop the visions from happening? Except for the fact that he’d never been able to do it before…something they also knew.

‘I tried to think of something else but I couldn’t remember what I’d been doing before…so I just, well…I focused on a memory instead and then it stopped.’

‘Merlin,’ Breathed Snape in obvious disbelief with an expression that suggested he thought Harry was lying to them.

‘What precisely do you think Occlumency is, Potter?’ He scowled.

‘I don’t know, you didn’t tell me!’ Harry growled back. ‘Clear my mind…yeah, like that’s bloody possible when someone’s poking around in it.’

Unable to control his annoyance towards the boy, Severus turned and left the room as he no longer cared about the boy’s well-being since the brat was obviously fine. And that arrogant, Gryffindor cheek had returned.

Merlin, grant him the courage not to strangle the boy!

Harry leaned back in his sheets and watched as Snape left. He had told the truth, so what if the git didn’t believe him?

After talking with Dumbledore a short while longer, the headmaster also departed the ward with the firm instruction that Harry would be spending the night there.

Not a moment later, a small group of Gryffindors rushed into t ward to visit him and make sure he was okay, once Pomfrey had let them past, of course. Harry lightened up a little as he recognized Ginny, Luna, Hermione, and…actually, he didn’t know who the first year boy was behind them but didn’t have time to think on it as the girls started talking about the match and asking how he was.

Once they had calmed down enough for him to really get a word in, Harry decided it wouldn’t be too risky to question something he had only just realized to be the cause of his foul mood; his concern and anxiety about the youngest resident in the Gryffindor Tower.

‘How’s Toby?’ He asked.

For some reason this seemed to amuse the others. It was then that the first year stepped forward and smiled at him. Harry gasped at the dark hair, obsidian eyes, and general features he was so very used to seeing every day on a much smaller face.

‘T-Toby?’ He stared, unable to believe it.

Ron appeared to be having similar reactions and Hermione had to shush him before he caused a scene.

‘Bloody hell.’ Ron stared.

‘Yeah, it’s me.’ The eleven-year-old nodded with a cheeky smile. ‘Hermione brewed an aging potion, but it’ll wear off soon so we can’t stay long.’

‘It’s mostly in appearance only; he’s still six-years-old at heart and mind.’ Hermione explained with a modest shrug.

‘It was all I could do in short notice. I had to resize his clothes as he grew.’ She added.

‘It’s brilliant.’ Ron said while Harry could do nothing but stare.

It was actually a rather sad sight to see his six-year-old brother suddenly stand before him “five years older” then he should be. He wasn’t sure why, but it made Harry feel quite uncomfortable.

Later that night in the Hospital Wing, Harry couldn’t get to sleep as he rolled over and faced away from Ron, trying to drown out his friend’s snores with the pillow he’d placed over his head.

It had been a weird day.

And seeing Toby older was having a stronger impact on Harry then the vision or McLaggen had, for a reason still undetermined by the teen.

He had imagined once or twice what Toby might look like by the time he could attend Hogwarts, which in his mind usually the boy was just taller. But he hadn’t looked as much like himself, still a mini-Snape, but the cheerful, child-like innocence was replaced with a mischievous expression of someone who had more knowledge then they should.

A boy who was more like Snape than Toby, yet with an odd combination of Harry himself that only formulated confusion; it was the best way Harry could describe it. And of course, the kid’s voice was different too, not by much, but enough for him to not just be Harry's “cute little brother” anymore.

Toby also had certain similarities to Harry at that age. It sent shivers down his spine, yet the fact was still undeniable by the teen.

He was just thankful that the next time he saw Toby, the boy would be six-years-old and full of innocent, joyous child-likeness once again.

Allowing his mind to drift in effort to fall asleep, Harry thought upon the stress he had been under throughout his 6th year so far.

With Toby to care for, he had little time for himself and the things he wanted to do, while lately Harry had tried anyway. It wasn’t working though, as Harry only stressed more and it affected Toby – as judged by the little stunt the boy had pulled when he’d gone to the Astronomy tower on his own, tired of waiting for Harry to keep his promise.

For a boy who the hat thought should go to Slytherin, there was a great deal of Gryffindor in Toby…and yet, that seemed to apply to Harry as well.

Nevertheless, Harry knew he needed another way to handle everything; perhaps if he had a little help with his tasks and such, but who? Dobby, of course, would be perfect and yet he was occupied with Toby almost all of the time-wait!

Harry owned more than one house-elf.

Jerking upright in his bed, Harry felt the shock spread through him as he couldn’t believe he hadn’t thought of it before.

He would never trust the elf with Toby (Kreacher’s language alone was a terrible influence on the poor kid), but with his own tasks? Sure, Harry felt he could handle the house-elf easily enough now that he had a grip on the whole “being a master” thing because of Dobby.

‘Kreacher?’ Harry whispered into the dimness of the ward.

He half-expected a loud arrival followed by a series of mutterings about mudbloods and blood-traitors, and therefore was rather surprised when the elf simply appeared with nothing more than an expression of deep loathing.

‘Master called me?’ The elf bowed; the tone was in no way kind or respectful.

‘Look,’ Harry sighed as he climbed off his bed and crouched before the elf.

Kreacher backed away and gripped the end of the bed as he watched the teenager warily. The Gryffindor was determined to neither treat the elf as Sirius had nor to receive the same dislike in return.

‘I know you’ve been raised with the Blacks and no doubt they fed you that “pureblood is best” rubbish, but I'm your master now and I won’t put up with it.’ Harry kept his voice low in fear of waking Ron or Madam Pomfrey.

‘I need your help with a few things from time to time and I don’t want to hear a thing about m-mudbloods or anything of the sort, got it?’

‘Kreacher will do whatever Master wants.’ The elf replied. ‘Because Kreacher has no choice, but Kreacher is ashamed to have such a Master, yes-‘

‘I don’t care,’ Harry told him. ‘Because I intend to change that. You’re my only real chance now; I have too much to worry about at once and it would do no good for us to hate each other if we have to work together a lot.’ He nodded.

‘And you can’t tell anyone about this. You are forbidden to tip anyone off, show anyone what we’re up to, or talk to anyone else, write them messages or otherwise contact a single other person besides me or Dobby, in any way. Got it?’

After a long pause in which Kreacher was clearly attempting to find a loophole in his order; Harry stared and waited for the response, which came in the form of a forced bow and further resentful tone.

‘Master thinks of everything and Kreacher must obey him.’ The elf said.

‘That’s settled, then,’ Harry exhaled with relief. ‘I’ll call you when I need you.’ He added and climbed back into bed, feeling much calmer as his second (or first?) house-elf popped away again.

Within minutes, Harry Potter had fallen asleep to dream of brewing a potion with Kreacher and Dobby’s help; and every time he put in an ingredient from Dobby, the cauldron got bigger, whereas the one from Kreacher made it smaller yet less full.

When he woke the following morning, Harry had no recollection of the dream, and still felt calmer that Kreacher was going to decrease his stresses rather than add to them...however unrealistic that notion may actually be.

As he and Ron left the Hospital Wing on Monday, Harry trailed behind his two best friends as he mused to himself about the time he had spent confined to that bed following what happened during the Quidditch match. Not even the news that Ginny and Dean had broken up would add a single spark of anything happier inside him.

As Luna joined them, even she seemed less aware of Harry hanging more towards the back as the group headed to the Great Hall for breakfast.

He had been running the events through his mind over and over, becoming more ashamed and confused with each time.

After he had witnessed that somewhat-vision, Harry had awoken and since the second he opened his eyes, his mood was foul as though he was angry and hurt by someone but he hadn’t a clue who. At first he thought it was what Voldemort was feeling, and yet it was nowhere near it because the Dark Lord would never know the sensation of emotional betrayal and loss.

But Harry couldn’t figure out why HE had felt that.

Nothing had happened to bring it about, other then the events of the Quidditch match. He racked his brain for anything that might have caused it but nothing came to mind, not even a few little things. All Harry knew was that he’d been mad with McLaggen and satisfied when he’d imitated Snape in order to restore some order into his useless Keeper.

Maybe it had something to do with Snape?

Harry didn’t know anymore, and barely felt hungry as he nibbled at his toast until someone finally thought to speak to him.

‘You’re extra quiet today, Harry.’ Neville commented. ‘Is everything alright?’

‘No.’ Harry could see no reason in lying as he couldn’t be bothered putting up a calm and friendly front.

‘I have a lot on my mind.’ He added to prevent further questioning from anyone else at the Gryffindor table.

His gaze lifted over the heads of the younger students seated nearby and trailed to the staff table where he instantly spotted Snape, not that it was a hard thing to do as the professor was clearly the blackest figure here.

The man was eating his own meal and talking to Dumbledore in between bites, having not noticed the stare he was receiving from the Boy-Who-Lived-To-Annoy-Him.

Yes, Harry had been angry with Voldemort, guilty he couldn’t save the girl, stressed about Toby, annoyed with McLaggen, and overall…it had been Snape he’d partially taken it out on. Dumbledore as well, but Harry was realistically furious with the headmaster anyway for keeping him out of things that concerned him.

In the past five years that dark-haired and clothed man had belittled, insulted, punished, and was generally rude to Harry, and not once had Snape ever apologized nor seemed to care of the treatment he handed out. In fact, sometimes Snape even appeared to enjoy it.

And each time Harry had defiantly returned the man’s words with his own anger and hatred. But that was gone now. The man hardly treated him any better but Harry knew even Snape couldn’t hate him anymore, just as Harry now respected the professor.

The other night in the Hospital Wing was as though things were back to how they used to be and it made Harry feel terribly…disappointed.

And with the way everything was going, he really didn’t want to ruin this; whatever it was exactly that had changed between himself and Snape. It was a small modification, but Harry refused to let it slip back into the dampening disaster it had been before.

Rising from his seat, Harry said nothing to any of his friends as he turned and walked out of the Great Hall, unaware of the obsidian gaze that followed him.

--

Taking the steps to the dormitory two at the time, Harry entered the room and looked over to where Toby and Dobby were seated on the floor beside his bed.

Spotting his brother, Toby made a move to grin and greet him but instantly changed his mind and remained seated.

‘Hello, Master Harry Potter sir.’ Dobby smiled. ‘Is you needing Dobby for anything else, sir?’

‘Yes.’ Harry nodded, having reached his decision before he’d even stepped into the room.

‘I have Herbology this afternoon and would like it very much if you could keep an eye on Toby because he will be joining me.’

‘Really?’ This time Toby did jump upright with a huge smile on his face.

‘Dobby would be honored, sir.’ The elf bowed.

‘Good, it’s settled then.’ Harry sighed.

‘I’ll meet both of you back here after lunch and we’ll head down to the greenhouse together; of course, you two will be invisible.’ He added and reached to ruffle the boy’s head in a way Harry had always wanted an adult to do to him when he’d been little.

‘Thanks, Harry.’ Toby smiled as he flattened his hair again with his hand.

‘I owe you an apology for not explaining properly why we haven’t spent a lot of time together.’ Harry shrugged. ‘I am sorry, and I promise things will be better now.’

Toby said nothing as his eyes became teary as he rushed to hug Harry around the middle, which the teenager noticed that the boy had grown at least several inches in the year so far, because he himself had grown almost as such as well, yet the boy still hugged him in the same spot, if not a tiny bit higher than before.

Leaving the room feeling calmer, Harry ventured outside as he had some free time and smiled at the sunny day.

Strolling across the grounds, Harry waited until he had reached the edge of the forest before he called Kreacher and had the house-elf guide him to the part he used to go with Dobby and Toby when the boy enjoyed his time outside.

He had received confirmation from Snape (via S.J.E) that it was an ideal place for most of the ingredients Harry wanted on his list, and therefore made sure he took advantage of this. Kreacher wasn’t really needed here, but was brought along for “bonding” purposes.

He had to find a way for this stubborn, sour house-elf to like him.

As they worked in mostly silence, gathering the ingredients Harry wanted and placed them into a basket he’d had Dobby make him for this sole purpose (he had also ordered Kreacher not to give him anything other than exactly what he requested), he pondered on the history of the elf. Kreacher clearly adored his “Mistress” and was brainwashed to her pureblood-loving ways, and yet he didn’t seem to speak of anyone else in such a way.

Even Harry knew the Black family tree was immeasurably larger and that there was no way they were all like his Mistress (such as Sirius and Tonks, for starters), yet there were a great deal who were (the Malfoys, Lestranges…etc).

Surely at least one other hadn’t been hated by Kreacher as Sirius was or…though perhaps it was not his treatment of them that caused this, but rather the vice versa.

‘They didn’t all treat you very well, did they?’ Harry asked Kreacher.

‘Your Mistress did, but what about the others? Tell me, did any of the other Blacks really ever treat you nicely?’

‘Only Regulus.’ Kreacher replied as he placed a fig into the basket and avoided looking at Harry.

‘That was Sirius’s younger brother!’ Harry realized. ‘I remember Sirius talking about him once; Regulus died, didn’t he?’

‘Yes.’ Kreacher sounded less vile when he spoke in that tone, almost as though he was sad or else regretful about something.

--

And an hour later when Harry returned to the castle, he knew all about the story detailing Regulus and the locket in which Kreacher had been unable to destroy for him.

When asked about the whereabouts of the object, Kreacher spat about the thief Mundungus and actually seemed rather keen to follow Harry’s next order, when the teen told him to find Mundungus and get back the locket. Harry would help the house-elf finish his task set out by the only other master who had been kind to Kreacher.

With any luck, Harry could be the next person on that very small list of people.

‘Where have you been all morning?’ Ron asked him as Harry joined his friends at the Gryffindor table for lunch.

‘Outside,’ Harry dismissed the question with a single word and watched Hermione for a moment and sighed.

‘Are you still doing that SPEW stuff?’ He asked.

‘It’s S.P.E.W!’ She hissed in return. ‘And yes, I am…why?’

‘I think it needs additional sponsoring.’ Harry reached into the pocket of his robes and fished out a handful of galleons in which were placed in front of her.

‘And you need to raise more awareness of it. I can have Dobby as your spokes-elf if you like, as long as he doesn’t mention who his previous family was.’ Harry nodded, not wanting to bring the Malfoys to public shame…that would not be considered safe at the moment, given the state of things.

‘Th-thank you!’ Hermione looked as though she was ready to cry. ‘And you’re right, of course…’

An hour before dinner that night, Harry as utterly exhausted. And yet he had accomplished so much today that he had to compose a list in order to believe it.

He had fixed things with Toby by taking him to Herbology under the invisibility spell while Dobby supervised when Harry couldn’t; the boy had been delighted and was determined to even do the set homework since he had theoretically attended the class.

Harry had properly begun supporting S.P.E.W and endured Hermione’s long plans to promote it further with the use of his provided funds, because Harry felt more sure of her goal to gain some fairness for house-elves after realizing that both of his had been given such a terrible time by their masters.

It was similar to him having a horrible childhood because the household he was stuck with hated him; Harry could not imagine being with the Dursleys all his life and not knowing any better about his own worth.

Kreacher had retrieved the locket and Harry decided to let the elf hang on to it for a few more hours before they worked out how to destroy it. And it was already obvious that Kreacher was beginning to see him differently.

Harry was still a “friend of mudbloods” but everything else was said or done with less venom aimed his way by the house-elf.

Harry had cornered Draco when the Slytherin had left a bathroom on the second floor and demanded that they set up a meeting to finally discuss the information the blonde had promised him.

The day was set for Saturday at two o’clock in the afternoon inside the Room of Requirement.

And yet with everything else Harry had done, such as finishing so many of the other personal tasks he had wanted to do in effort to boost his mood and feel better about being able to do something even if it wasn’t war-related, his list was not quite complete.

Even has he had begun working on the relation charm Snape had taught him (or rather, S.J.E), through their rolls of parchment.

There was still one thing left to do.

And it was the reason for Harry pacing a few feet from Snape’s office as he tried to sort through the many ways in which he could approach Snape and…*choke* apologize.

He didn’t feel he should as it wasn’t really his fault, and yet Harry knew from experience that such truths meant nothing to Snape. A man like Snape considered Harry disrespectful, arrogant, and rude for the way he’d spoken to him that had caused Snape to march out of the Hospital Wing that day of the Quidditch match.

Regardless, Harry had to try; he wasn’t willingly leaving that office until he had at least gotten his message across.

Another reason he hadn’t knocked yet was because he was downright terrified. Yes, the Boy-Who-Lived who had fought Voldemort more times than either of them dared to count, faced a giant Basilisk and spiders, a werewolf, and numerous other dangerous things…was too nervous to face his own professor regarding a simple apology.

Well, nothing was ever simple with Snape, but all the same…Harry knew he was being ridiculous.

 Even as the images of being cursed from the room while jars of gross things were thrown his way plagued him, Harry knew he had to act now or flee like the coward he wasn’t.

And as he stepped forward to raise his hand, Harry jumped without any shred of dignity when a tired, annoyed voice spoke through the door he had been about to knock his fist against.

‘Cease your insufferable dawdling and either step inside my office or remove yourself from the corridor!’

Gripping the doorknob with shaking hands, Harry inhaled a sharp breath and walked into the office, which looked oddly darker than he remembered.

‘Of course,’ Snape sneered as he saw his company. ‘I should have known you would be the one to waste my time with senseless pacing outside my door for the past forty minutes.’

Had it really been that long? It was a rather specific number, yet Harry didn’t dare to question it as he cautiously walked towards the desk and occupied the same chair he had sat in when he’d been there last, hearing about his mother.

‘Well?’ Snape eyed him. ‘What is the reasoning behind your inconvenient visit?’

‘I merely wished to speak to you, sir.’ Harry swallowed and prided himself for being able to make his voice sound relatively normal rather than as quivering mess as he felt inside.

It had never been this hard to approach Snape before, no matter how scary the man was. Then again, he’d never apologized to the man in such manner either.

‘Go on.’ Severus encouraged with a heavy sigh of dread and agreement that he would at least listen to the boy until he felt the stronger desire to turf the Gryffindor from his office and brew a headache potion. His previous supply had run out.

‘Well, it is difficult, sir…’ Harry tried to buy himself a little time. ‘It’s about that day in the Hospital Wing.’

‘If you’re here to complain that any treatment you received was in any way poorly and unfair then I advise you to spare yourself the lecture and leave now.’ Severus pinched the bridge of his nose.

‘I have little time or tolerance for such whining.’

‘No, sir-I…’ Harry winced and stared at the floor between his feet. ‘I actually wanted to…to apologize to you.’

He was forced to look up after a full minute when Snape was yet to make a sound. Even then, the look of shock and pure distrust marked the man’s features was unexpected; at any other moment, Harry might have found it to be amusing.

‘I am in no mood for pranks, Potter!’ Severus finally detected his senses again once those emerald eyes lifted towards him, obscured by the stupid glasses.

‘No, I swear!’

Harry jumped to his feet as though Severus had done the same, even as his professor remained firmly in his chair, mostly because the man did not trust himself to move.

‘I was angry and had a lot on my mind.’ He hastily added. ‘I don’t know what happened, but something sort of snapped and I…I reacted unfavorably.’ Harry said in a more formal tone, calming just a little when Snape’s wand remained out of sight.

All he received in return for his words was a hardened expression of something Harry couldn’t quite decipher.

‘It wasn’t your fault Voldemort was doing those things, nor did you try to make me stay in that stupid ward when I was fine, and I also shouldn’t have brought up the fact that…well, the stuff about those Occlumency lessons.’

‘Indeed.’ Severus spoke barely above a whisper.

He knew the boy was briefly wondering if he had gone into shock, in which the man found himself pondering on as well.

‘Why?’

‘Why…what?’ Harry was confused.

‘Idiot boy! Why was that single incident worthy of an apology when five years of trouble-making, disrespect, and arrogance is left unaccounted for?’

Severus rose from his chair but did not leave his place from behind the desk. He needed the height advantage at that moment because it was all he could ultimately hold over the boy in such a situation.

‘Things are different now.’ Harry replied in his usually defiant tone, although it continued to lack the anger and resentment it had once held.

‘Before, I hated you, and you had that silly grudge…now, I don’t really know how it happened but it’s just not the same anymore.’ The Gryffindor shrugged at his own logic.

And just as Severus was about to respond, something very odd and unexpected happened.

Pop!

‘Kreacher is ready to destroy the locket now, Master.’ He bowed to Harry before he noticed their company. ‘Kreacher remembers Severus Snape, the one who called Master Sirius a liar. Kreacher isn’t-‘

‘Oi!’ Harry hissed. ‘What did I say about telling someone? Or talking to anyone at all?’

‘Kreacher was only speaking to Master, and Kreacher is not being told to only do so when Master is alone.’ The elf replied with a usual smirk while he gripped the chain of the locket with his hands.

‘Well, it applies now. Only when I’m alone!’ Harry grimaced as he slowly turned towards Snape, unsure of how to explain this.

‘What is the meaning of-?’ Severus began to raise his tone at the boy and the scene before him, when his eyes trailed downwards to the familiar locket.

‘Where did you get that?’

‘Why?’ Harry did not like the paler-than-usual complexion that spread across his professor’s expression. ‘It’s not yours.’

‘Do you have any idea what that object contains, Potter?’ Severus hissed. ‘Stay put.’ He instructed as he headed to the fireplace to floo-call Dumbledore.

The conversation was brief and Harry panicked the entire time while Kreacher stood with uncertainty by his side, still clinging to the locket.

As Dumbledore stepped through, he followed Snape’s gaze to where the man was pointing directly at the elf. The headmaster first noticed that it wasn’t a Hogwarts house-elf and knew instantly who it was, seconds before he spotted the object the being was holding in the same way one would a lost treasure.

‘Harry, how did you come by this?’ Dumbledore moved closer, almost eagerly, as he fixated his gaze between the teen and the item of apparent importance.

And so Harry explained that he remembered about Kreacher and wanted to find a way for them not to hate each other. He told them about Regulus Black (why was Snape muttering “R.A.B”?), and how Kreacher had been given the task to destroy the locket for him but had been unable to. And then Mundungus had stolen it and he’d just sent Kreacher to get it back so they could complete the task together and be rid of the locket.

Not once had the Gryffindor really cared why the bloody thing would never open.

‘What’s going on, sir?’ Harry asked Dumbledore.

Instead of answering, Dumbledore merely showed Harry an exact replica of the locket, except that one was hanging open.

‘I don’t understand.’ Harry frowned as he stared at his two professors. Dumbledore was looking relieved while Snape…well, he seemed to be his usual grumpy and guarded self once again.

‘Perhaps this will provide more efficient answers then I can give to aide your confusion.’ Dumbledore handed over a small note and Harry began to read it aloud, mostly for Kreacher’s sake as he felt he should include the elf with anything to do with the mysterious locket.

‘To the Dark Lord, I know I will be dead long before you read this, but I want you to know it is I who discovered your secret…’

Harry paused and glanced at the professors for a moment; neither said anything as they wore grave expressions, so he continued.

‘I have stolen the real Horcrux and intend to destroy it as soon as I can. I face death in the hope that when you meet your match, you will be mortal once more. R.A.B.’

Harry lowered his gaze to the stone floor of Snape's office and remained silent for a moment, letting the questions and realizations buzz through his mind, threatening to jumble his focus or make themselves known.

As he pondered on what the note had implied, Harry understood only that it was very important to the war, and to defeating Voldemort. Spurred by his ability to perhaps at least know something after so long of being left out of his supposed destiny, Harry lifted his chin and stared right at his professors.

'Please, I want to know what this means.' Harry told them defiantly.

'Tell me anything you can. I need to know what's going on and I have to know how to stop him!'

An hour later found Harry walking sullenly into the dormitory, his mind filled with worrying facts about Horcruxes and the way there seemed to be a higher sense of helplessness towards fighting someone who can't die.

Dumbledore had assured him that the search for the pieces of Voldemort's soul was progressing as they were being tracked down and destroyed, yet the look on Snape's face when it had been said was discouraging.

Snape was not one to reveal his emotions, therefore Harry didn't know how to feel about the fact that the man had deliberately let Harry see that he thought Dumbledore was sugar-coating the truth behind their success.

The pair had only three more Horcruxes left to destroy before Voldemort himself was mortal once more, yet Harry struggled to rest his faith in such a task in which he knew involved him all while he was being left out of it.

The only positive fact he could grasp at was that Kreacher now liked him and in any spare time the elf had, he would clean Grimmauld place or follow Harry around the dungeons to assist the teenager with his brewing.

It had all been fine, until a week later when Harry decided to let Toby come to watch him brew...therefore, Dobby and Kreacher were to be in the same room later that week.

Both elves that were fond of Harry and tried to please him, were convinced that the other was not needed.

'Dobby is happy to help Master Harry Potter with anything he wishes, anything at all, sir!' Dobby would say and shrieked when Kreacher shoved him off the table he had been standing on to get Harry's attention.

'Kreacher is belonging to Master first.' The older elf said smoothly. 'Kreacher is knowing more and can help Master much better than Dobby.'

In a matter of minutes, Harry could only shield his cauldron and stare while Toby (who was under the invisibility spell) stood on a stool to avoid the two house-elves that were rolling around on the floor.

They each now bore the same black outfit with a lightning bolt on the front and a pair of perfectly-fitting brown shoes, making it harder to tell which was which as they yelled insults at each other all while physically fighting.

Harry was stunned at first by the scene and too fussed over his cauldron and Toby to react, until the ear-splitting (or so it seemed), sound of jars sliding off shelves as the contents were splattered on the ground, and the overturning of stools became too much.

'ENOUGH!' Harry bellowed and gasped as he couldn't believe how Snape-like he had just sounded.

His order, however, had the desired impact when both elves froze as though under a paralysis spell; Dobby's foot was still in Kreacher's mouth while Kreacher had fistfuls of Dobby's ears, yet apart from blinking and breathing heavily, neither elf moved.

'I need you to get along.' Harry said quickly. 'I need both of you and that's the way it's going to stay. Dobby watches and teaches Toby for me and Kreacher assists with my potions and other stuff; without either one of you, this wouldn't be possible.' He insisted and slowly turned to stare pale-faced at the classroom

'C-could you both clean all this up?' Harry gulped and was only able to breathe again when the elves had snapped their fingers and the room returned to its usual state.

Toby froze in his action of climbing down from the stool when the door to the room suddenly opened and Snape hesitated with surprise to see Harry standing by a cauldron with two house-elves at his side.

Positioned protectively in front of the stool where Toby sat hidden, Harry swallowed nervously and glanced at his cauldron quickly to check he had a few minutes let it sit while he fought to regain his ability to talk instead of stuttering.

'Er...' Was about all he could say.

During each of the occasions Harry had brewed in his spare time, occasionally Slughorn would drop by to see how he was going, Hermione once or twice as well, but never Snape.

Sure, the man was no longer his Potions Master (in which Harry was thankful for), but Harry had no doubt that Snape still ventured to this part of the dungeons from time to time. Especially since his office, private quarters and storage, as well as labs were still there too.

'Using house-elves to do perform simplistic tasks for you, Mr Potter?' Snape sneered as he entered the classroom and let the door swing shut behind him.

Striding across the room and right up to Harry's cauldron, he peered inside and crinkled his nose at the scent.

'I daresay your supposed talent fails you, given the thickened state of this stomach soothing draught.' He glanced at the workbench in search of a textbook but found none.

'Which method are you attempting to use, Potter?'

Similar to a moment previous when the house-elf war had been tearing apart the room, Harry could only stare as he realized that Snape was actually asking about his potion and sharing a room with him that was in no way inclined to be forced company.

'Er...' Harry said again and felt Toby's poking him in the back for encouragement. 'Mine.'

He swallowed and waited for the insults as Snape turned to narrow his eyes at him and then raised an eyebrow with surprise.

'And it's been modified.' Harry added.

'In which way?' Snape glanced at the cauldron again, this time with a wary expression as though he was searching for a dangerous ingredient that would likely need rectifying.

'To taste better...um, sir?' Harry shuffled his feet and exhaled nervously. 'I...this is weird.' He huffed. 'You...me...not shouting.'

'As unbelievable as it may seem, Potter, I...' Severus paused as he was about to deliver a sarcastic commented but in his state of tiredness, he decided to simply be blunt.

'I agree. This situation is most...unfamiliar.' He raised an eyebrow at the seemingly frozen, solider-like house-elves nearby and realized that he recognized them.

It was also a tad unsettling to see the Gryffindor with two creatures that once served the Malfoys and Blacks, which by extension would also include the Lestranges...all upper class and purebred Slytherin families known to produce Death Eaters.

'Precisely why do you have two house elves in your presence, surely a potion such as this is not so strenuous that you require such methods of supervision and assistance?'

Glaring shortly at Snape, Harry turned to Dobby and gave him permission to leave, watching with relief as the elf jumped onto the stool where Toby was hidden and popped away, discreetly taking the boy with him.

'I was trying to make them get along.' Harry answered Snape.

He turned to face his cauldron, quickly remembering which step he was up. Frowning at his bubbling potion, he let out of a huff of annoyance and sank into the stool Toby had previously been occupying.

'Is Master needing Kreacher's help?' The elf inched forward.

Severus carefully watched the way the teenager's eyes lowered and shoulders hunched with defeat.

'No, it's ruined.' Harry sighed. 'I lost focus...it was a stupid mistake, but now it's stuffed.'

He reached for his wand that had been sitting on the counter nearby, yet his arm was grasped by Snape's hand before the teen could vanish the bubbling mess inside his cauldron.

'Sir?' Harry lowered his hand as Snape peered into the cauldron with a calculating gaze and then used his own wand to summon a few jars from the stores.

'This stomach soothing draught has been modified for the specific purpose of improving the finalized taste, correct?' Severus asked the boy, who quickly nodded as they both knew the limited time there was to save the potion in question.

Nodding, and confident of the ingredients he had guessed to have been in use already, Severus nudged Harry aside and worked at chopping herbs and crushing beans. The man added them to the mix and watched as he stirred; the bubbling stopped and the brew took on a deep magenta colour.

'The healing properties were enhanced and the bitterness removed from the exchange of...' Harry muttered to himself as he stared into the cauldron and cast Snape gaze of near-admiration.

'It's brilliant!'

'I assume you are capable of continuation without further intervention?' Severus held out the stirring tool to the boy.

'Yeah, thanks.' Harry accepted it and returned to the task while the professor moved towards the front of the classroom where he had originally been heading.

'Kreacher, I need another cauldron set up here and two bezoars.' He added while Severus paused to listen as he sat at the desk. 'And of course, the figs we got yesterday, that water plant with the stupid name I can't say and...the erm, jar of-you know?'

Severus ignored the teen for a while, though he was compelled to supervise as this was the first time since last year that the pair had shared this very classroom. The circumstances were so different that those harsh lessons and arguing seemed to be part of a drawn-out dream rather then memories of the past.

--

After another half an hour of Severus writing and Harry working on potions with Kreacher, the teenager began to forget the professor's near-silent company and spoke aloud more often as he usually did.

Severus stopped in his tracks and actually blotched a part of his report to Lupin when he heard and mentally combined into fact, what the boy was brewing. The figs, herbs, fish eyes, bezoar, and numerous other things were conclusive enough, but with the mentioning of the boy's own blood...Severus became quite worried.

It was an ancient relative potion, one in which – to his previous knowledge – was known by very few, apart from S.J.E in which he had first explained it to with painful detail.

How could Potter know of it? Such as, wouldn't he have gone straight for a paternity potion or something similar as everyone else recommended, even Severus's mother, who had full knowledge of the entire Hogwarts library.

Casting the boy a suspicions glare, Severus made to leave his seat and confront the boy but halted at the sight that met him and instantly sank back into sitting position.

Harry was facing him now, though his gaze was concentrated on talking to Kreacher who held up an assortment of stewed figs; those emerald eyes were so filled with determination, interest and calmness that Severus could only wince.

The glasses...those glasses on the boy's face...that was all Severus saw of James Potter.

The almond-shaped emerald eyes, focused yet enlightened gaze, bitten lip habit, and tapping of his foot as he stirred the cauldron...that was all Lily.

A horrifying thought occurred to Severus as he continued to watch the teenager, because...the black lengthy hair, paled face, precise hands, and quirked eyebrow...that wasn't Lily's nor James's, it was...

Severus suddenly felt lightheaded as he stared at his incomplete letter to Lupin in which claimed that their task was fruitless, that there was no way the boy could be anyone but the son of James and Lily.

He felt cold, which wasn't unnatural in the dungeons; however it wasn't temperature-related as Severus had long ago adapted to it.

He could not stay.

Severus, for one of the few times in his life, had the sudden urge to flee; he wanted to run and run until he was out of breath and energy, until he felt nothing but the wind in his lungs and ground beneath his shoes.

Severus swallowed twice and carefully rose as he approached the teenager, having tucked his letter into his robes as he went. Looking into the cauldron of finished draught (though it still needed work with the modifications in taste), and the other potion that was yet to be completed.

'Is is almost time for dinner.' Severus said and avoided addressing the boy. 'I expect to find this entire area to be in pristine condition upon your departure.'

'I know.' Harry said without looking up. 'I'm only practicing right now, so I'll be done soon, sir. Thank you for helping me.' He added as he felt it should be said.

The memory of the man assisting and not insulting him was going to be mulled on later as Harry could not believe it had actually happened.

Severus said nothing as he stared at the teenager a moment longer and then turned on his heels and left the classroom without making a single sound, even as his robes billowed about in his classic bat-like fashion behind him.

As the door shut behind him, Harry lifted his gaze towards it and smiled.

Anything Severus had thought of or noticed about Harry Potter was long forgotten that night, because the moment he had reached his quarters a burning pain in his left forearm leeched all of his focus as he tried not to cry out.

It was worst than usual... which meant the Dark Lord was angry; hopefully not with him.

Alerting Dumbledore of the situation, Severus headed outside the castle and walked beyond the wards of the gounds before he could apparate away.

Standing composed in a dry, empty field, Severus felt his inside squirming until he was able to control himself, as always; the perfect spy.

'Severus, you came.' Voldemort's silky voice reached him instantly as the Dark Lord seemed to glide towards him.

'Of course, my Lord.' Severus ducked his head and forced himself to bow, keeping his mind strong and performance flawless.

'I wonder though, if your duties are too difficult for you to fulfill to your usual capability?'

'My Lord?' Severus glanced at Voldemort with curiosity though he was really half-panicked that something wasn't right, or he'd been discovered.

'It has been weeks, months even, since you have delivered something worthy to me.' Voldemort frowned. 'Especially considering that Dumbledore has been leading plans to rise against me...yet from you, I hear nothing...not even whispers.'

'Dumbledore is secretive; evasive...he refuses to share even the smallest of details, my Lord!' Severus insisted. 'I shall-I shall try harder.' He ducked his head again to hide his face.

'Yes, you will.' Voldemort said quietly.

It made all the Death Eaters present shiver at the threat implied with such a short sentence.

Severus tried not to react as he knew what was coming, and wished upon prayer that it was only standard, that the Dark Lord was yet to discover his disloyalty.

It was strange how surviving one of these meetings was more important than it used to be, as though Severus now had something to go back to. In the past, he’d have longed for death, to be spared from one torturous day after another for a seemingly never-achievable purpose. Severus was a spy, he had his duty and yet…in hindsight, Severus felt he had nothing and no one.

What was one more day?

Yet Severus remained bowed as he noticed the shadows indicating that Voldemort had raised his wand. Despite his unexpected desire to make it back to Hogwarts this time, Severus still wished that he could be spared from continuation. Spared from the misery that was his life.

Even if the Dark Lord wasn’t aware of the other man’s secret ambitions, the “merciful” lord…did not oblige.

'CRUCIO!'

Harry jerked awake the following morning, his face covered in sweat and his stomach churning.

Tossing aside the covers that felt to be strangling him, he rushed to the bathroom and threw up in the toilet, his face paling further by the second.

It was another nightmare, mixed with a partial vision that he used all his mental power to escape from. It was why he now sat on the tiled floor as his head pounded with pain and his face dripped with sweat and tears, while his hair hung in clumpy strands as he fought to get himself under control.

'Are you alright, Harry?' Neville appeared at the doorway, looking down at him with undisguised concern.

'Should I call Madam Pomfrey?'

'No.' Harry croaked. 'Just...need a m-minute.'

Neville didn't seem to believe him but decided to let the matter drop as he returned to his bed; it was four in the morning.

And it wasn't until everyone else started getting up nearly three hours later that Harry felt confident and calm enough to leave the floor. Going about his usual morning routine, Harry ignored anyone who commented on his pale face or sagging form, even Toby.

Harry was hesitant to enter the Great Hall, thinking that the large arrays of various foods would cause his stomach to feel like live snakes again.

However, as he forced himself forward and prayed to remain composed, he was surprised to notice that the scents of sausages, pancakes, bacon and eggs instead had the reverse impact on him.

Sitting between Seamus and Ginny, Harry began to pile food onto his plate with anticipation.

What he’d thought to be a false alarm did make him feel unstable once he had finished half a plate of eggs and toast. Sipping his pumpkin juice, Harry paused as he noticed the room becoming blurrier and oddly coloured.

Reaching to his face, he removed his glasses and wiped them on his robes. Replacing them over his eyes, nothing seemed any different other then how his ability to see long distance had increased to an alarming rate.

Turning in his seat warily, Harry tested his sight as he looked over at the staff table and flinched at the glare on Snape’s face. It wasn’t directed at him, or anything besides the man’s own untouched plate, and yet Harry wondered what had happened.

He saw the toning in the man’s unnaturally flushed face that had nothing to do with brewing potions, and the way the man gripped his fork as though wishing it were a weapon instead, one in which he could spear his food with little resistance.

It was a bizarre thought, but that’s what came to mind as Harry stared at the man, until his vision blurred and a sharp pain coursed not only through his scar but his left forearm and the back of his neck as well.

‘Harry?’ Ginny reached for him as his head slumped forward and he swayed backwards from the seat. She had managed to grasp a hold of the front of his robes just enough to prevent his head from hitting the stone floor.

Unconscious and sweating as his face paled further and his scar began to bleed small droplets of blood, Harry was unaware of the way the staff and distant students got to their feet to see what was happening. Or the way Snape clutched his own forearm and dashed from the room without making a sound; an incredible feat given the silence of the entire hall.

--

Two hours later, Harry awoke in the Hospital Wing with a fading headache and numb fingertips.

He slowly and cautiously raised himself onto his elbows and looked around to notice Madam Pomfrey talking to Dumbledore a short distance away; far enough that he couldn’t make out a single one of their hushed words.

To his right, between his bed and the next, was a wooden chair where Snape sat hunched forward as his elbows were rested just above his knees. The man's head hung downwards as he watched the floor, or what he could see of it with his curtaining, back hair.

‘A-are you alright, sir?’ Harry asked at the worrying sight of Snape, despite him being the one who had just woken up in a hospital bed.

‘Tired.’ Came the reply that sounded like the usual Snape, and yet the man did not move nor otherwise acknowledge that Harry had woken.

‘Harry!’ Dumbledore spotted him and walked over; looking conflicted between relief and further concern. ‘How are you feeling?’

‘Sore.’ Harry answered honestly.

He ignored the fussing Mediwitch as she instantly whipped out her wand and spelled diagnostics.

‘Where does it hurt?’ Poppy asked the boy while Dumbledore glanced at Severus; even Harry had noticed the expression of surprise on the headmaster’s face.

‘Oh, er…my head.’ Harry answered, still trying to watch Snape. ‘And my fingers feel weird.’

Severus lifted his head at those words though he tried to limit his movement.

‘Do not give him a headache potion, Poppy.’ He cautioned her, his tone almost sounding as tired as he looked.

Curses, little sleep, and nightmares had that impact on a person.

‘What happened?’ Harry was worried now. ‘Why can’t I have the potion?’

‘One does not give medicine to a healthy person, Mr Potter.’

Snape wasn’t having the usual intimidating effect when he was still positioned as in such a hunched manner, though his head was lifted and his hair had been shaken away from obscuring his gaze.

‘If I’m healthy then why am I here?’ Harry frowned; his head throbbed and he wanted that potion to get rid of it. ‘Why did my vision act up and why was I sick this morning?’

‘Competence comes with a price.’ Severus sighed, not caring that he was only riling the teenager further.

Ducking his head again, he allowed Dumbledore to take over and explain to the brat. Severus felt too nauseous and light-headed to do so right now, not that he’d have wanted to anyhow. He hated being proven wrong.

‘Harry.’ Dumbledore stepped forward. ‘We-‘ he indicated to himself and Snape; clearly because Pomfrey looked as lost and concerned as Harry did. ‘-believe that what you experienced today is an uncommon adjustment period that sometimes accompanies tapping into stores of natural, magical talent.’

‘What?’ Harry still didn’t understand. ‘What talent? I didn’t do anything, I was just having a nightmare and…’ He frowned. ‘Sir?’

‘You misunderstand.’ Dumbledore smiled, no longer concerned as Severus’s comment a moment previous to not allow Poppy to give Harry the potion was evidence enough.

‘Your magical core is quite the same; however it has expanded to accommodate your new skills.’

‘What new skills?’ Harry scowled. ‘Can’t you just say something normally instead of talking in riddles and making me guess, for once? This is worst than separating Actogenda juice from Octogena pus.’ He grumbled, recalling the horrendous preparations he had to make for a potion a few weeks ago.

The last response anyone had expected to hear was a loud snort of amusement from Snape.

Barely a second after, the man quickly glanced at Dumbledore and Poppy, pooling his composure and seriousness as he caught their frowning expressions.

‘My apologies.’ Severus swallowed and looked away again, not noticing the small crack of a smile from Harry.

‘The art of both Occlumency and Legilimency are rare and challenging skills for one to learn on their own.’ Dumbledore said, not commenting on either of the boy’s previous words.

‘Very few wizards can accomplish beyond the bare basics and to master both…’ He glanced at Snape (who was currently ignoring him), while Harry listened intently.

‘Can you think of any who have achieved such a disastrously tricky combination of skills to the level of mastery?’ Dumbledore asked.

Harry nodded. ‘Professor Snape, of course, with all that poking around my head last year.’ He grumbled, earning a grunt of annoyance from the man.

Good; being annoyed at Harry was what was considered normal for Snape, the moment he acted like a tired human being then Harry felt them drifting to uncharted, worrying situations.

‘And you?’ Harry guessed, looking at the headmaster again as he spoke. ‘And…Voldemort? I don’t know if he knows Occlumency but the other one…yeah.’ He frowned at his bed sheets, remembering a few times his mind had been attacked by the villain.

‘Yes.’ Dumbledore nodded. ‘That is three. As I said, it is a very rare and near impossible combination in which to master. Though I believe Lord Voldemort only learned Occlumency merely to prove he could.’

‘But you lot are really powerful and all that.’ Harry insisted, earning a scoff from Snape, who was beginning to annoy him now. Why was Snape even here? ‘And what’s that got to do with me?’

‘It seems you have inherited the natural skills, combined as an overall talent in which can be magically tapped into.’ Dumbledore explained.

‘That is to normally say, without any riddling whatsoever, that you are adapting to the new capabilities of being able to begin mastering both Occlumency and Legilimency.’ He said, causing Harry to blush at the implication of his previous comments.

At those words, however, Severus suddenly had the urge to leave the room rather quickly, dreading any mentioning of the brat needing further teaching on the subject.

Yet, the moment he straightened, he winced and felt his energy being sapped.

Biting back a yawn, Severus nodded to the others, lingered his gaze on Harry for a brief moment, and then left the room with determination, his robes not billowing behind him as they usually did.

‘What happened to him?’ Harry asked. ‘And how did I…inherit it? Could my mum or dad do it?’ His eyes lit up with hope, though his mood quickly sank again when Dumbledore did not smile in return.

‘Professor Snape has had a particularly tiring few days.’ Dumbledore with hidden meaning, but Harry understood that it had something to do with the war.

Yet he hadn’t noticed anything too off with the ma the previous day; maybe that’s why he was more civil? Harry lowered his gaze again, a sinking feeling in his chest telling him that maybe it had been a fluke after all, that Snape had simply been too tired to really argue and insult him as per usual.

‘And to my knowledge, James Potter did not…’ Dumbledore began saying but Harry was instead hearing Snape’s voice, “Potter did not possess the patience nor even an ounce of the competency required in which to learn anything behind tying his own shoes with his wand”.

Strangely, it caused him to chuckle, which earned Harry odd looks from the adults.

‘Sorry.’ Harry replied and blushed. ‘What about my mum?’

‘It is possible.’ Dumbledore said in a way that indicated how much he doubted it.

‘Well, there’s no one else, is there?’ Harry asked. ‘Unless I have other relatives?’

He peeked through his own curtains of hair at the headmaster, hoping to catch an answer or implication of what he had already begun to suspect.

He hadn’t even noticed that Madam Pomfrey had returned to her office shortly after Snape’s uncharacteristic snort; she had only just reached his side again with the insisting that he lie down rather then sit perched near the edge of his bed.

He never got the answers he’d wanted from Dumbledore, but it still gave Harry a lot to think about as lunch passed by rather quietly.

Once it became clear that he would have to stay for at least overnight, Harry didn’t bother protesting as he had the last time and instead waited for the Mediwitch to venture back to her office, and mostly out of sight or hearing range.

‘Dobby?’ Harry whispered.

Pop!

‘Master Harry Potter is calling Dobby, sir?’ The house-elf bowed.

‘I need you to do something for me.’ Harry kept his voice low and darted his gaze towards the office as he could no longer see Pomfrey, though the ward remained empty apart from himself and Dobby.

‘Of course, sir.’ Dobby smiled. ‘Dobby will always help Master Harry Potter whenever he needs it, sir.’

‘I have to stay here for a little while, something about learning new magic or whatever.’ Harry huffed as it didn’t seem as interesting as it had an hour ago.

‘I’ll need you to look after Toby, but take him to nana if you have to. And if you’re not sure what to do, go to Dumbledore because he knows about Toby and what’s going on with me.’

Harry didn’t want to give that order but knew he had to be prepared for anything. If Snape was under further pressure with being a spy again Voldemort then things mustn’t be going too favorably with the war, for either side.

‘Dobby will do it, sir.’ The house-elf nodded. ‘Master Harry Potter is not to worry about young Toby, sir, as Dobby will do his very best, sir.’

‘Thanks, Dobby.’

Harry relaxed against his pillows and watched the elf leave, only to whisper once again to his other house-elf. Giving them orders separately tended to be a wise move then to do so with them being tempted to strangle the other.

‘Master called Kreacher?’ The older elf bowed just as Dobby had, though with a little less energy and enthusiasm.

‘Could you get my study books from my trunk, please?’ Harry asked. ‘The one about the bloodlines and the advanced ingredient histories? Then go to nana and ask her if I could borrow a book on Occlumency mastering.’

‘Of course, Master.’ Kreacher left and minutes later reappeared with the books. ‘Is Master needing anything else from Kreacher?’ The hopeful gaze in his eyes was almost sad.

‘Er, yeah…could you make sure my personal potion stock doesn’t need adjusting?’ Harry asked the first thing that came to mind. ‘Then that’ll be all for now, thanks.’

Poppy stood concealed by the doorway of her office as she listened to the second house-elf vanish.

Severus was right, the boy was making good use of the creatures, and yet she still found certain bits confusing. Who was Toby? Why would the first house-elf need to look after him? Did the boy call someone “nana”? But surely he had no known or living family left besides his muggle relatives who certainly not be familiar with house-elves and books on Occlumency or anything so magical.

Deciding to let the boy be, Poppy moved around her desk and sat back down, facing the parchments on her desk for a brief moment before she returned to her paperwork.

--

It was several hours later when Poppy made sure Harry had eaten dinner and then began to sleep, having received a visit from his friends forty minutes prior.

Hermione had been excited about his new skills and Ron confused but otherwise neutral.

It was almost midnight when Poppy was prepared to head to sleep herself. Dressed in her nightgown, she walked quietly into the ward to check over her patient one last time for that night and was glad to notice that he wasn’t having any nightmares nor looked anything other than at peace with his slumber.

Looking down at the teenager who was only partially in sight because of the moonlit, otherwise dark ward, Poppy had to place a hand over her mouth to conceal her gasp.

The boy’s glasses had been removed from his face and with his dark hair and general appearance; Harry looked like a very different boy in a rather familiar situation.

One Poppy remembered quite clearly still…

--

‘Do I have to stay here long?’ Fourteen-year-old Severus scowled as he cross his arms over his chest from where he sat reluctantly in the bed.

‘Yes!’ Poppy frowned at him. ‘You will remain here at least overnight - longer if I have to tolerate any more of that attitude, young man.’

Leaving Severus to his muttering, Poppy crossed the ward to tend to the stomachache of another student nearly. She was only vaguely aware of the redheaded Gryffindor girl that rushed into the ward to see her grumbling friend.

‘What did you do this time, Mr Lockhart?’ She fussed, only half listening to the chatter behind her.

‘I’m glad you’re okay, Sev!’ Lily exhaled with relief. ‘What happened? You just passed out in the library!’

‘I’m fine now.’ Severus was still pouting about being stuck in the Hospital Wing since he hated it there and saw its walls far too often.

‘Something about learning or mastering new magic, I dunno…I can’t see what I could need with it. I don’t want to read anyone’s mind!’ He said.

‘Reading minds?’ Lily gasped. ‘Can you read mine now?’

There was silence only politely filled with Severus trying very hard not to laugh at his muggleborn friend.

‘No, Lils, it doesn’t work like that.’ Severus said as his voice softened a little, lacking his previous grumpiness. ‘Anyway, I have to stay here for a while.’

‘I’ll bring you your homework then.’ Lily decided. ‘And guess what? McGonagall saw me rushing you to the Hospital Wing and thought toerag Potter did something, so…’

--

Poppy’s memory trailed off as she moved away from the slumbering Harry.

Unlike many others, Poppy knew that Irma Pince was Eileen Prince, she knew that Lily and Severus had been inseparable until late in their fifth year, and she knew…oh yes, Poppy knew of several complications Lily had prior to Harry’s birth that was strictly confidential.

Yet she was not one to break promises and it was still a matter she was legally not permitted to really discuss, even if Lily was dead. That boy she was tending to may be the son of Severus Snape, or he might very well simply be similar.

Though to Poppy it hardly mattered; Severus wasn’t needed earlier and yet he had come to check on the boy - in his tired and sore state after curses and nightmares - to make sure Lily’s son was okay. He could have explained matters and left…but Severus didn’t; there had been no professional reason to stay.

And he had.

--

When Harry awoke the following morning it wasn't because he was well rested and ready to face the day, but rather because he received the most unexpected visitor that insisted on soundly entering the ward.

That was his his luck - Madam Pomfrey had just ducked out to speak with Dumbledore as well.

'What do you want?' Harry groaned at being woken in the early hours of the day when he'd been having a rather calm dream for once, about Quidditch too.

'Go away.' Harry added and pulled his sheets over his head.

'Not a morning person eh, Potter?' Draco sneered though he looked rather annoyed as he stood near the end of Harry's bed.

'I'm not a Malfoy person.' Harry retorted from his weak refuge underneath his blankets.

He was too tired to care how childish it may seem and silently pleaded for Madam Pomfrey to return and kick the Slytherin out.

'I suppose you think this is funny, do you?' Draco sounded so bitter that Harry's hand emerged from under the sheets to snatch his glasses.

A few seconds later the Gryffindor reluctantly peered over at the other boy, wondering why Draco was hassling him in the Hospital Wing now rather than the Great Hall later. There was more privacy here, probably, either that or the Slytherin enjoyed waking people at ridiculous hours of the day.

'I don't know what you're talking about.' Harry said as he sat upright and frowned at his so-called rival. 'So would you hurry up and get to the point so I can go back to sleep?'

Even in saying that he knew it wouldn't happen; Harry was awake now, and Draco had never left him alone when he'd asked.

'We were supposed to meet that Saturday.' Draco reminded him. 'And you bail again, for the eighth time! I'm tired of your excuses...but we have a deal, we took a vow!'

'I know!' Harry hissed and looked around the deserted ward as though he expected someone like Snape, Dumbledore, or a tattler to be half-concealed under a bed, listening.

He tried not to laugh at the thought of either of those wizards crouching under a piece of furniture, though it was slightly nerving as well.

'I've been-'

'Busy?' Draco rolled his eyes. 'You keep saying that, as though I don't have better things to do either!'

It was a serious matter, the terms of their Unbreakable Vow, and yet Harry was too overwhelmed and tired to care for anything else at that moment.

Retreating under his blankets once again, Harry groaned and knew he had to go through with what he had promised to Draco. He hadn't meant to keep changing their plans, but things with Toby often got in the way or he became eager to try a new potion.

Draco was right though, it was becoming more about excuses than actual reasons.

'Fine.' Harry muttered. 'If I get out of here today, we'll talk tonight in the same room as before.'

'You bloody better get out of here today or I'll...Er, good morning, sir.'

Wondering who Draco was talking to and hoping it was Dumbledore, Harry quickly pulled the sheets from his hair, knocking his glasses askew, and stared at Snape with sudden rush of embarrassment.

'I was unaware that a Gryffindor and Slytherin such as yourselves could be on such personal visiting terms.' Severus glanced at each nervous teenager with suspicion.

'And it is not wise to make threats upon one of Madam Pomfrey patients, Mr Malfoy.' He looked at his godson and wondered where Poppy was. 'As you ought to know.'

'Right, I was just going anyway.' Draco said quickly and marched out of the Hospital Wing.

'I didn't do anything!' Harry said quickly as Snape glared down at him.

'Not. This. Time. Perhaps. However, I merely wished to convey a message from...' Severus narrowed his eyes and glanced elsewhere. 'Lupin.' He spat out with increased loathing.

'Oh.' Harry wasn't sure how to react to that. 'You spoke to Remus? Wait, why didn't he just sent me an owl?'

'Indeed.' Severus rolled his eyes.

There had been a meeting earlier that morning and Severus had no choice but to attend. Lupin had conversed about their “task” afterwards and requested that Severus talk to the brat.

It must be near the full moon because Lupin was more delusional than usual.

Severus wasn't sure if he liked it any more or less, but the message itself did not involve Lupin or anything Severus thought he should be the one to pass along simply because he was on his way to the Hospital Wing.

If he hadn't been using his explained departure as an excuse to get away from Dumbledore, he'd have kept such information to himself.

'It appears as though...' Severus was distracted as he caught sight of a small pile of books sitting on the bedside table. Stepping closer, he scanned the titles and sighed as a tired expression coloured his face once again.

'Lupin and Tonk shall be paying you a visit in the Great Hall.' Severus reported. 'And do not pester me with senseless questions, as I do not know why nor do I care!' He scowled as the boy opened his mouth to talk.

'Um, thanks?' Harry said.

Madam Pomfrey returned and walked right by them as though she hadn't even noticed the pair. Returning to check on Harry, she greeted Snape as though he had been there all morning.

'Is there anything I can assist you with, Severus?' Poppy asked as she waved her wand to check Harry's energy and magical levels.

'You're fine, Mr Potter, you may leave once breakfast begins in an hour.' She added in the direction of the teen.

'I have what I required.' Severus nodded and turned to leave.

'What did he get?' Poppy asked Harry, confused as to what the Potions Master would need from the Hospital Wing.

'Nothing, I don't think.' Harry said, though he had been hidden under the sheets when the man had arrived.

He was thinking the same thing as Poppy; what could Severus Snape possibly have come to the Hospital Wing for, if not just to deliver a message?

'Maybe he's lost it.' Harry snorted. 'He looks tired, I've never seen him so...so human.'

He winced as he remembered that Madam Pomfrey was right there and might not apreciate him saying such things about her co-worker.

'Yes, well...it's been a tiring few days.' She repeated what Dumbledore had said before. 'I suspect he has a lot on his mind.'

'Did you know him when he was here?' Harry asked.

He was inspired by the way he'd noticed that Madam Pomfrey and Snape seemed know each other rather well, as they must work together a lot, even if Slughorn was the official Potions Master now. Snape had been for the last fifteen years.

'You mean as a student?' Poppy caught on what the teenager was saying.

Deciding she wasn't going against any promises or giving Severus a reason to spike her tea with too much honey again, she nodded.

'Yes. I also knew your parents, of course.' She smiled at the teenager. 'Sirius and James were in here only a few times less than yourself!' Poppy sighed.

'Odd bruises, suspicious bites...goodness, I had to claim overtime pay with those lot.'

Despite her stern tone, Harry knew she found it amusing now and wondered what exactly the Marauders had gotten up to that had them becoming regular patients such as he was.

'What was he like?' Harry asked. 'Snape, I mean.'

Poppy looked over at Harry with a quizzical expression; she'd have thought he'd ask about his father, godfather, Remus, or even his mother first...but yet his interest rested solely on Snape at this moment.

And there was very little she could say that Severus would approve of her speaking of; none of his moments in the Hospital Wing was enjoyable, nor lacking in embarrassment most of the time.

'He was...' Poppy thought for a moment and contemplated telling Harry nothing instead, but then that would seem rather strange.

'He was a lot like you.'

Watching the Mediwitch walk back to her office, Harry pondered on what she had said and realized that no one said to him “you look just like you father, but with your mother's eyes” anymore. It was how he resembled Snape...but it hadn't always been like that.

Harry struggled to explain it away with the fact that his hair was longer or his face paler. Something wasn't right with this and curiosity burned inside him, and yet...from short phrases he had caught while faking sleep the night before had informed him, there was no time for confusing issues like that.

Despite losing almost all of his Horcruxes, Voldemort was gaining power rapidly and more deaths were being reported in the newspapers, daily.

It was all leading up to something...perhaps THE big something; a full fledged war.

Harry hoped it wouldn't come to that as the mere imagination terrified him. It made small things like looking like Snape seem so meaningless and nothing more then a distraction from his real mission.

Well, once Harry got out of the Hospital Wing he was going to meet up with Draco and start coming up with strategies, even if Dumbledore was so determined to not include him any more and also considering that Harry had no real expectation to win against such a dangerous wizard like Lord Voldemort.

The confrontation was getting nearer and Harry could no longer see the worth in practicing potions and exploring his heritage. There was real work to be done; he had avoided it long enough and now...it was time to rejoin the fight.

Snape had told Harry that Remus and Tonks would be meeting him in the Great Hall.

And yet as Harry left the Hospital Wing shortly after, he wondered if the entire school already knew of the fact because the other houses (Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw and Slytherin) were glancing wide-eyed at the Gryffindor table and whispering amongst themselves.

'Ah, there he is!' Tonks waved to Harry from where she sat amongst the students across from an embarrassed Remus. 'Wotcher, Harry.'

'Er, hi Tonks.' Harry sat beside her and glanced at Remus, suppressing a snort of laughter at the sight of them. 'I bet this is just like old times, eh?'

'Not really.' Remus said. 'Last time I was a student and there was nothing weird about sitting here. I feel like I should be dressed in a uniform or something...it's very disorientating.'

'And I sat over there.' Tonks smiled at the Hufflepuffs proudly, most which returned the gesture. 'And only like...how many years ago? Just before you started here, Harry. Rotten luck that.'

'Why are you here?' Harry asked curiously as he nibbled on a roll. 'Wouldn't it be easier to just meet me somewhere rather than going through this?'

'Obviously not.' Remus frowned at Tonks, who didn't appear to have heard Harry while she looked around the hall searchingly.

'Where's that cousin of mine?' Tonks looked at the Slytherins and smirked at the blonde head that seemed very fixated on his plate. 'Ah, there...do you think I should sit next him for good measure?' She chuckled.

'Who?' Harry followed her gaze. 'Malfoy?'

'Yeah, my mother is his mother's sister.' Tonks said slowly as though it was confusing her to work it out.

'Anyway.' Remus sighed. 'We can't really talk in the Great Hall, it's too crowded, but Dora insisted on waiting for you here.' He rolled his eyes. 'We have a little time so eat up and we'll talk after.'

As Harry hurriedly and awkwardly ate, he watched Tonks get up from the seat and march over to sit beside Draco, who looked horrified and squeamish by the action. Remus simply conversed with some of the other Gryffindors, looking more at home there than he had a moment earlier. It was sad though, to think that this was exactly the sort of thing that Sirius would loved to have done.

Harry claimed he was full once his appetite vanished and he felt a little queasy at the thought of his godfather.

'What do you think Professor Snape would do if I were to cause a colourful scene?' Tonks wondered aloud as the group of three left the hall. 'I still have some of the Weasley's fireworks and rainbow smokebombs. Genius that.'

'Dora, please.' Remus sighed, though he couldn't quite conceal his expression of curiosity from Harry, who found it all to be really funny.

'I expect he'd try to put you in detention.' Harry answered, recalling that Tonks had been a student under Snape as well. 'How did you survive seven years here? You're crazy!' He laughed, thinking about how she'd dare to cause such a scene under Snape's nose.

'I'm marrying a Marauder, aren't I?' Tonks smiled and quickly turned to glare at a suit of armour that had “tried to trip her”. Harry just realised where they were headed and found it so ironic. Stepping into the Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom, Harry turned quickly and stared at the pair.

'You're engaged?' He grinned. 'Congratulations!'

'Yes, well...thank you.' Remus blushed. 'We actually hoped you'd be the best man in place of...' He frowned and lowered his gaze.

'Instead of Sirius.' Harry exhaled as he realised what Remus meant to say. 'And yeah, sure...I'd love to!' He tried to offer them a smile.

'Brilliant!' Tonks grinned. 'Though, we do need to talk to you about something.' She said a little more seriously while Remus spelled a few privacy charms.

'Has this got anything to do with the war?' Harry asked hopefully.

'What do you know?' Remus asked.

'Nothing!' Harry exclaimed. 'Dumbledore won't tell me anything anymore, he just talks in stupid riddles. He's working on something with Snape but doesn't want me to have anything to do with it. I'm the one who has to go up against Voldemort! I'm the one who apparently has to kill him!'

Tonks and Remus looked surprised by Dumbledore's lack of guidance and instruction as the headmaster often implied otherwise during meetings.

'There is going to be a war.' Tonks revealed. 'Dumbledore thinks it'll happen by August.'

'Dora...' Remus seemed conflicted by giving Harry the details that Dumbledore clearly wasn't.

'What's the Order doing about it?' Harry continued and stared at Tonks as he ignored Remus. 'How can we stop it?'

'It's inevitable.' Tonks shook her head. 'But things are going good...better than before, anyway.'

Harry wasn't sure what to think of that and had hoped that a war could be avoided. He watched the pair for a moment and realised that Remus hadn't entirely wanted to tell him about those details, therefore they had come to tell him something else.

'What did you want to tell me?' Harry wondered.

'Before he...died.' Tonks said. 'Sirius told us something...something about you.'

'What did he say?' Harry sucked in a breath and held it, not believing his luck that he might finally know what Sirius had said about him and his father. Exhaling quickly, he stared between them and eagerly waited an answer.

'He said...' Tonks hesitated and glanced towards the door, expecting Snape to come swooping in and shouting. 'Sirius said he didn't like you staying with those muggles and that in an incident in which something happened to him then you should be with someone who cares about you.' She said quickly.

'Like who?' Harry asked and frowned as he knew there was a load more to what Sirius had said than just that.

'We don't know exactly.' Remus said. 'But I know you've been curious and it has to stop, just until this war is over.' He said sternly and lectured all his reasons as to why he thought so, which Harry could only half agree to as he listened reluctantly.

-- 

And the next time Harry returned to that classroom was a few days later when he was only just late for Defence.

Draco had ended up in the Hospital Wing the morning of Tonks and Remus's visit and Harry vaguely wondered if Tonks had done something, though she insisted she hadn't when he wrote to her that afternoon.

He and Draco would be meeting in the Room of Requirement that night just after dinner; no exceptions, as Harry had said when he dropped by the ward to make sure the Slytherin knew so. This was why he was flustered and red faced from running as he skidded into the candlelit classroom and hurried to sit between Ron and Hermione.

'Late, Mr Potter?' Snape's tone was harsh as he watched the teenager take his seat. 'Ten points from Gryffindor.'

Harry had been expecting that, thought he glared all the same, as he began to get out his books and roll of homework about Dementors, which soon hovered over to join the others in a pile on Snape's desk. Unlike times in the past, Harry wasn't at all worried as he felt confident in his ability to write that essay in the way he hoped Snape had been looking for.

Snape began talking again but Harry only looked over when Seamus seemed brave enough to raise his hand and ask a question.

'Sir,' Seamus said while the class turned to look at him. 'I've been wondering, how do you tell the difference between an Inferius and a ghost? Because there was something in the Prophet about an Inferius-'

'No, there wasn't.' Harry winced as he heard those words leave his mouth before he had the chance to let Snape say them. Attempting to recover, he quickly acted as though it was an open discussion, trying to ignore the glare sent his way by their professor.

'I read that article too, but it was just a sneak-thief pretending to be one.' He said, remembering Mundungus Fletcher's arrest with a short hint of amusement, and relief that Kreacher had gotten the locket from him in time.

'Potter seems to have a lot to say on the subject.'Snape's gaze fixated on Harry. 'Let us ask Potter how we would tell the difference between a Inferius and a ghost.'

'Er-' Harry swallowed nervously as he desperately tried to come up with something plausible to answer with. 'I-I don't really know that much, only what the article had said about them.' He confessed as his cheek felt hot. 'And that – well – ghosts are transparent-'

'Oh, very good,' Snape's expression formed a smirk as he interrupted. 'Yes, it is easy to see that nearly six years of magical education have not been wasted on you, Potter. Ghosts are transparent.'

As the lesson continued with Harry and Snape exchanging words as they used to, and then Ron costing house points by insisting that Harry's explanation made more sense, they proceeded to read about the Cruciatus Curse in their textbooks.

Flipping to page 213, Harry read the first two paragraphs quickly before his gaze and interest wandered around the room. He felt a flush of embarrassment though he didn't know where it came from. Thinking for a moment, Harry felt it was a bit distant, as though it hadn't been his own reaction but someone else's. Watching Hannah Abbott quickly retrieving a quill to his left with a blush on his cheeks, Harry remembered his supposed newfound talents and decided to try it out.

What motivated him to do this during one of Snape's lessons was lost on him.

He didn't dare try the Ligilimency spell in class and so tried a few brief methods he'd read in the library book he'd been given by his “nana” earlier. In the course of twenty minutes, Harry had discreetly managed to make eye contact with Neville, Dean, Seamus, Susan, Theodore, Blaise, Millicent, and a Ravenclaw whose name he couldn't remember. He'd caught brief memories of (in no particular order): a runaway rabbit, a birthday party with a massive cake, horses running through a field, a train in France, a pond filled with large frogs, the streets of London, a frothing cauldron, a bloody arm, a large muggle courtroom, a cemetery, a colourful magical clothing store, Saint Mungo's, and an expansive yard filled with the shadows of a huge mansion. A very familiar mansion, though he was unable to place it.

'Ahh!' Harry clutched his forehead as a sharp pain coursed through his mind, not from his scar by from his head in general. He hadn't know that using this skills so much all at once would have such painful consequences.

Opening his eyes, he saw Snape and the class looking at him with puzzlement. This time the embarrassment was his own. 'Er, sorry...headache.' He muttered and quickly returned to his work.

-- 

When the bell rang at the end of the lesson, Harry took his time putting his things away and waited until the others had mostly left before he even stood and dismissed his friends with a short wave. Snape was glaring at him suspiciously and Harry had a bad feeling that the man knew what he had been doing.

'Sir, I wondered if I might ask you something?' Harry lifted his chin and tried to appear brave or calm, though he felt neither.

'I dare say it is a subject in which has zero relation to the Cruciatus Curse, Potter?' Snape's scowl confirmed Harry's fears. The man knew what he had been doing and was not pleased.

'Er-right, yeah.' Harry nodded. 'I just saw a few memories though, then it made my head hurt...why is that?'

'If one were to lift a heavy load with no use of magic, naturally one's muscles will take the strain.' Severus said in a bored tone. 'The mind operates in a similar manner.'

'So...it's a lot effort?' Harry assumed. 'But will it get stronger if I keep practising and learn to focus it better? I don't really want to read minds, but if this will help me guard against it...'

'That is understandable. However, be cautious in your endeavours as much like any muscle, it can become over-worked and the consequences may be dire.'

'Yeah, I get it now.' Harry nodded and grasped his bag. 'Oh, and sir...c-could my mother do this too? Dumbledore said I inherited it.'

'No.' Severus said slowly. 'Lily lacked the patience in which to even attempt such a powerful branch of magic in which she deemed no use for.'

'Oh.' Harry frowned. 'But...then where did I get it from?'

'No idea.' Severus answered. 'If that is all, however...class as been dismissed, Potter. So-get-out!'

Glaring at his professor, Harry turned and stormed from the classroom. In his haste he almost collided with someone he hadn't expected to see again so soon.

'Tonks!' Harry gasped with alarm and quickly stepped back, only just preventing their collision with his Seeker reflexes. 'What are you doing here?'

'I came to see Dumbledore.' Tonks answered with a shrug and glanced towards the classroom with amusement. 'Just had a lesson with Professor Snape, eh?'

'Yeah.' Harry cracked a small smile. 'And Dumbledore's office isn't here, it's round the other side of the castle, behind the gargoyle-'

'I know.' Tonks rolled her eyes. 'I have been there many times before, you know. But he's not there right now, went off someplace again, though I wish I knew where.' She sighed.

'What did you want to see him about?'

'Oh, nothing that can't wait.' Tonks dismissed it with a wave of her hand, which he noticed was holding her wand. 'Well, I better get going. I'll see you around, Harry.'

'Wait!' Harry said hurriedly as they now stood inches from the open Defence classroom door where Snape was still inside, though that fact was lost on them at that particular moment.

'Is everything alright?' Tonks frowned at his anxious expression.

'I need to know – did Sirius say anything about my dad...not being my dad?' Harry swallowed, not sure if he wanted to know. He could have sworn he'd heard something like an ink bottle clattering to the floor nearby but failed to properly acknowledge it.

Tonks stared at Harry for a seemingly long moment until the corridor was empty and the classroom once again silent. Offering him a small smile, she shrugged her shoulders and turned her wand in her hand as she answered.

'Remus said you were asking questions like this.' Tonks nodded. 'I'm not surprised at all, really, given how much you look like Snape these days and people are probably talking about that too.'

'Yeah, it's bloody annoying.'

'Well, because you look like Snape and people are agreeing with such, and given things you've seen or heard...I'd have begun to worry as well.' Tonks chuckled. 'Though you're handling it better than I would, to be frank. Is there any truth in it? Maybe. But two people can look so alike yet not be related at all, whereas complete strangers passing on the street could be sworn as twins.' She reasoned.

'That doesn't help me at all.' Harry grumbled.

'No, I don't suppose it would!' Tonks laughed.

'But think about it...all you've got to go by is that you look like Snape and people are whispering things about your dad. Given that you know how Snape and your mum used to be best friends as well. You can't doubt your parents just because of something like that, you need real reason and evidence. James Potter, your dad or not, gave his life for you and loved you as his son. Either you're worrying about nothing because of a few bits of gossip or you're really onto something but there's still more to the story then just that.'

'What are you saying?' Harry frowned, trying to figure it out and realising that Tonks did have a point. 'Should I find out more?'

'My advice?' Tonks smiled. 'Forget about it. That doesn't sound simple, does it? But while you're guessing and trying to find something that may not exist, you could be straying from the path further. If it's true that James isn't your dad after all, then someone will likely tell you when the time is right.'

'But-'

'I know, people don't tell you much these days.' Tonks nodded. 'But the likes of Dumbledore don't just keep secrets for the sake of it, they have miles of reasons and research that revolve around every plan. If someone is keeping something like this from you when you have every right to know...you can bet your best galleon that it's a damn good reason.'

'You're right.' Harry sighed heavily. 'Thanks...you're absolutely right.'

'Remind Remus that next time you seen him.' Tonks joked. 'I think being a professor for a year really got to his head. Anyway, I better be going now. Later!'

'Yeah, bye.' Harry sighed and glanced one last time towards the classroom before he turned and walked along the corridor in the opposite direction that Tonks had gone.

Unnoticed by the pair, Severus Snape stood behind the ajar door and also realised that the logic of the former Hufflepuff was in no way flawed. They had a war to deal with now and everything had it's due time.

'Well?' Harry asked as he looked across the cluttered room to where Draco stood by the doorway to the Room of Requirement. 'What happened to you, anyway? You were in the Hospital Wing for days.'

'Why do you care?' Draco glared as he crossed the room and stood several feet from Harry and tugged at his Slytherin tie nervously.

Harry was amused by the question as he had asked Draco the same thing several times before. Yet he gave no real answer, just as Draco hadn't, though Harry wouldn't admit that it was because he couldn't think of one. Why did he care? Or was he simply curious? Yeah, that had to be it. His mood turned more serious as he watched Draco pace and fidget, starting to worry himself as it was clear that the Slytherin was having a mental struggle about their agreement, even if the Vow prevented him from backing out of it.

'Malfoy?' Harry asked but received no indication of being heard. 'Draco? What's the matter with you?'

'Nothing!' Draco snapped angrily and turned to sink into a chair, hanging his head in a manner that reminded Harry of Snape that day in the Hospital Wing. Draco looked just as tired, yet further stressed and if Harry would admit it...the Slytherin almost looked scared.

'I shouldn't be doing this.' Draco rambled as his gaze focused on the floor. 'I could be killed. My family...' He swallowed. 'It was a mistake to make the vow.'

'You can't back out of it now.' Harry urged.

'I know that!' Draco growled and glared at Harry. 'But don't you understand? In telling you this...you have no idea, Potter! You don't know what it's like. What he's like...'

'Who, Voldemort?' Harry felt confused and ignored Draco's flinch at the name. 'I've seen him. I've fought him! I know how vile he can be.'

'To his enemies.' Draco stood and faced Harry. 'You know how he is to his enemies.'

Draco hadn't said many details, but somehow that sentence silenced Harry and a wave of sympathy washed over him. Draco was on the opposite side of the playing field; his parents were Death Eaters fighting for Voldemort's dark cause, yet Draco was not branded and therefore Harry wondered if his classmate was instead torn in the middle rather than one either side. Here he was, about to help Harry by giving him information that could get his family killed.

'If that's the risk, why did you want to tell me this stuff anyway?' Harry spoke. 'I may not like your lot, but even I can see that family means more than just a name to you.' He'd never have imagined that as cruel that the Malfoys seemed, they were very family people who stood by each other. If anything, their protection of their own was more evident than their dislike of impure blood.

Harry could see that now, in Draco.

'My family is everything to me.' Draco whispered and then frowned at Harry. 'Don't ever doubt that, Potter! And it's none of your business as to why I'm helping you, I just am! Look, I'll tell you everything like I promised but you have to swear not to tell ANYONE that it came from me!'

Harry lowered his gaze and thought about how much he had told Ron and Hermione lately, which was his realisation that he hadn't said much, really. They didn't know that Toby was Snape's son, or who Irma Prince really was, they didn't know about his meetings and agreement with Draco, nor his suspicions about being related to Snape. They were still his best friends, but when something seemed different with Harry, a lot of other things changed as well. So when Draco asked him not to share his source of information, Harry found it to be an easy enough thing to agree upon.

'I won't tell.' Harry promised. 'I know the danger you're in if I do. I may not like you, Malfoy, but I don't hate you.'

'You should.' Draco said. 'We'll never be friends, Potter. Never.'

'No, we won't.' Harry shrugged. 'But that doesn't mean we have to be enemies. Now tell me what you know.'

And so Draco did. He sank into the nearest chair, his blonde hair a mess and his tie loosened, as he stared at the floor with a stricken expression that showed stress and dread, yet he told Harry what he knew. He mentioned vague plans and hinted theories, yet with everything...there was one thing the Slytherin said that stuck with Harry several hours later as he lay in bed and tried to sleep.

--

'You're good with potions now, right?' Draco asked as he handed over a strip of parchment with magically disguised handwriting, likely in case it was read by someone else and yet they wouldn't be able to trace it back to him.

'I guess.' Harry replied. 'Why?' He asked and accepted the parchment, preparing to leave as Draco appeared to have told him all he could.

'Nagini...the Dark Lord's snake...' Draco extracted a stoppered vial carefully from his robes and handed it to Harry. 'This is some of its venom. That's a possible antidote.' He pointed to the parchment he had handed Harry. 'I don't know if it will work but...I think you should brew it.'

'Why?' Harry frowned as it was a rather specific request. He didn't dare to ask how Draco had gotten a sample of the snake's venom.

'Just...tell me you'll try?' Draco scowled. 'If you can brew it...keep the antidote with you, alright?' He paused and ran a hand through his hair as he seemed hesitant to remain there any longer.

'I don't understand...' Harry frowned as he glanced from either hand – from the parchment to the dangerous vial. Yet as he glanced up, he barely had time to see Draco leaving the room...

--

Harry, without his glasses on his face, glanced sideways to where the parchment rested beside his bed. He had read over it a moment earlier and knew it was a complex potion to brew, yet it was determined to do so. No matter his distrust of Draco in the past, the fact that the Slytherin was risking his life and his family for Harry's increased chances of surviving the war...it brought about a further lack of dislike towards his former-enemy.

Draco didn't seem as bad as Harry had assumed, and he knew that the need for the antidote was urgent. He would attempt to brew it at the first chance he got.

The following day did not give Harry the chance to even read over the instructions for the antidote. That morning he took Toby outside to get some fresh air (Toby was concealed under the invisibility cloak) ,as they walked across the grounds to visit Hagrid. Reaching the hut, yet not hearing Fang's barks, Harry suspected that something was wrong. Toby, unaware of such, started knocking invisibly on the door, anxious to get inside as it looked like it was going to rain.

'Why isn't Hagrid answering?' Toby asked. 'Do you think he's busy?'

'No.' Harry walked a short distance away, having an instinctual urge to look around. He headed towards a sloped hill and looked down towards a section that led to the forest.

Not far away, yet out of hearing range, he spotted Hagrid and Fang looked at what appeared to be a dead spider. Realisation and dreading filling him, Harry nudged Toby and the pair walked to approach their half-giant friend who was grieving the death of his eight-legged friend, Aragog. Harry found it hard to feel at all sad about the passing of the thing that had once tried to kill he and Ron, however he sympathised with Hagrid and tried to offer support where he could.

Hagrid was tearful yet glad that they had come by. Harry was surprised Hagrid hadn't written to tell him about the death of Aragog but didn't dwell on it as he cautiously looked around when Toby removed the cloak to pay respects to the scary spider.

'What happened?' Toby questioned as he had heard a few stories from Hagrid about Aragog and was sad for the half-giant for his loss.

Harry didn't listen as he tuned out of the situation and Toby's approach to the spider to say goodbye. He smiled briefly at his brother's kindness, but otherwise he remained rather detached. Draco's words were still on his mind, as well as the antidote and the upcoming war. He glanced towards the darkening sky and worried, because the clouds seemed a little odd to him, not like rain clouds yet something darker. He had no reason to think that, yet Harry had a prickling sensation that he should be focused on more important things than a dead spider, regardless of how much Aragog had meant to Hagrid.

Yet, Harry quietly remained where he was for another twenty minutes before he followed Hagrid and Fang back to the hut. Making an excuse, he left Toby there without the cloak and headed back to the castle after instructing Dobby to stay with Toby for a few more minutes and then return the boy to their dormitory.

Harry entered the dungeons moments late and spotted Snape entering his office. The door was left partially ajar and Harry wouldn't have bothered to notice that had he not heard a sound of breaking jars from within the room. Hesitating, in case the Professor was in a horribly angered mood, yet unable to resist, Harry stepped forward cautiously and peered into the office.

He saw Snape sitting at his desk with his hands in his hair as he bent over a pile of ignored parchment.

Surprised that Snape hadn't noticed him, Harry watched as the man placed the silver cauldron on his desk and stared at it, almost as though he expected it to do something. Snape closed his eyes and winced, giving the impression that he was exhausted and in pain, much like that day in the Hospital Wing, which seemed to be in Harry's mind a lot lately.

Deciding not to disturb the man, Harry turned and left the dungeons and towards the Grand Staircase.

Arriving at the common room, he moved to sit by the fireplace and pondered on what he had just seen. Reaching into his pocket, Harry lifted out a photograph of his parents and stared emotionally at their faces. He smiled at Lily and then turned his attention to James. With a sigh, he pocketed it again and stared into the fire, remembering when he had spoken to Sirius there a year ago.

He could really use his parents or Sirius's guidance right now. He wished they were with him, giving him clues as to what he should do about many things, such as the war, Toby, Draco, and even Snape. Seeing Snape behaving so human was unsettling as even Harry had envisioned him to be beyond that of normal wizards in strength as well as unfairness. Mostly, though his views of the man had changed dramatically in mere months. He considered going to see Madam Pince or owl'ing Remus, yet Harry did neither.

Instead, he returned to his dormitory to put the photograph of his parents back into the album and then reached for the parchment he shared with Snape.

I don't know what to do, sir. I'm lost and I know a war is coming. How will I know what to do when it matters most? How do you make the choices that you do? What if I do something wrong and more people die? 

I know you're busy and I'm really sorry for intruding...but I feel so alone, even with my friends and family around me. I just need someone to tell me how to know which choice are the ones I should make. I wish, now more than ever, that I had a father or someone to guide me.

I feel the darkness pressing in and I'm scared that when the war comes...I'll let everyone down.

Harry didn't know why he confided in Snape, but he had no one else and surely the Professor would understand on some level? Leaning back on his bed, Harry did not expect his words to vanish and for new ones to appear in their place so soon.

Frowning, he sat upright and inched the parchment closer as he saw Snape's reply writing itself onto the paper.

When the time comes...trust your instincts. And never give in. The moment you give in...you've already lost. Let the will to survive and protect those close to you to fill you inside whenever you doubt yourself. Do that and your way forward is clear. 

You're not alone.

It was a simple enough answer yet Harry read it over at least five times. A burdening sensation in his stomach faded a little as he felt a tiny bit at ease. Snape was right, of course, and his words made sense to Harry though he would never had thought of them on his own.

He wondered if Snape followed his own advice but also wondered if Snape still had that will to survive and protect. It worried him, because of what he had seen moments earlier in the dungeons. Suddenly, Harry didn't want Snape to die. He knew the man would be involved in the war and he knew the danger of being in Voldemort's ranks, yet for the first time Harry worried for Snape.

Truly worried; almost as though he was scared of losing his once-loathed Professor.

I will, if you promise to do the same. 

You're not alone either, sir.

As Harry woke just before sunrise on the first morning of June, he merely lay there in his bed and wondered if today would be the day.

It was weird to remember that Voldemort and the Death Eaters were still causing chaos and agony across the Wizarding World, because Harry saw now evidence of it. Maybe if he read the Daily Prophet more, but Harry and his friends had long ago given up on browsing such a pile of rubbish.

Glancing to his side, Harry mused about how in nearly three months it would be a full year since he had first met the slumbering six-year-old beside him. That scared little boy who had shown up through accidental magic in the Dursley's living room after his orphanage had been set on fire.

In nine or so months the cautious and lonely orphan had become a joyous, considerate, and potion-loving little brother to Harry. He was still careful and shy, but Toby had changed in ways that made Harry proud of him, yet he'd had never taken the chance to tell the boy of such. Toby, the son of Severus Snape and grandson of Eileen Prince, had grown a few inches as well, proving that he would likely become as tall as Snape himself. Though, Harry had grown in a similar way also and was finally catching up to the rest of his classmates.

Sighing, as he didn't feel like getting up yet, Harry reached under his pillow and was careful not to wake Toby as he slid into sitting position and cast a lumos  so he could see the pages of the book he held open on his lap. It was his potions textbook with the revealed additions made by the Half-Blood Prince, who he now believed to be Snape. It was strange how easily that idea had come to him in the past few weeks; Harry had shared his theory with Irma and her lack of direct response or eye-contact had been clued enough.

Since his last contact with Snape, via their shared enchanted parchments, the dark clothed Potions Master was all Harry could think about.

He had learned so much in nine months about the Professor he had once hated and avoided at all costs. Reading the Prince's notes for the first time since Harry had realised who they truly belonged to, the teenager smiled a little at the irony of it all. Snape and Harry had never gotten along, and yet their paths constantly crossed, year after year, since Harry had started at Hogwarts. Snape had been friends with his mother, which had likely started it all, and that led to the incident of such a book resting in Harry's hands.

The fact that he, of all people, sat in his Gryffindor dormitory with Snape's old textbook in his grasp was a chance occurrence that Harry could never have planned nor predicted if he'd ever tried.

He had felt a tiny bit guilty at first, since the book was not his to own and Snape probably wouldn't want him to have it, yet Harry could not bring himself to get rid of it. He read over the comments again, since he'd had them hidden many months ago and some he had forgotten, such as the additional spells written there. Sectumsempra, for example, was a non-verbal spell and one of the few Harry was yet to try out. Seeing the “for enemies” written there, he decided to let his curiosity remain unsatisfied for now.

Harry placed the book back under his pillow once he re-concealed the notes.

Slipping out of bed, surprised that his movement hadn't woken Toby, Harry grabbed his glasses and headed to the bathroom. Shutting the door soundlessly, he lit a candle with his wand and glanced at his reflection. Harry stepped closer to the mirror and continued to feel mixed opinions about the haircut he'd given himself not long ago. His hair still rested about his ears but had been brushed out of his face and didn't curtain as much as it used to when it had been longer.

Staring into his own emerald eyes, Harry briefly wondered what went through Snape's mind when he looked at him, with the recent information that Snape had once been friends with his mother.

Determined to keep his mind straight, Harry brushed his teeth and used the facilities before he washed his hands and glanced at the mirror again. Lowering his gaze to a spot beside him on the sink, he picked up his glasses and placed them onto his face.

He looked different again already.

That would be what Snape saw...his enemy with the eyes of his former friend.

Frowning at such a thought, Harry turned and left the bathroom, blowing the candle out as he went. A dim pre-sunrise light enabled him to cross the room to his trunk and get dressed without putting his shirt on inside-out, yet it was still too early for breakfast or waking anyone else in the room.

Turning, fully dressed, Harry quietly left the dormitory and stepped into the warmed common room. No one was there, not that he had expected anyone to be, as Harry walked towards the fat lady's portrait and exited. He walked in silence for a while, only aware of the sound of his footsteps against the floors of the corridors or steps of stairs.

Finally, Harry emerged into the dungeons and paused outside the Potions classroom. Peeking inside, Harry slipped into the room and carefully shut the door behind himself, though not all the way, and glanced around at the emptiness of the room. Lighting a few candles, Harry was aware that all of the ingredients he needed were already there, which was a fact he had checked the previous afternoon.

It seemed silly to leave it so long, given its importance, yet Harry was not going to let his plan be delayed any further. He had tried to brew a potion many weeks ago that would indicate if he had other relatives, as per the instructions Snape had given “SJE”, however a part of Harry wasn't sure if he wanted to know and therefore when the potion proved to be too irritating when the simplest error would render it useless...Harry gave up on it.

Now he had a complex potion that had twice as many tasks and requirements, yet he could honestly say that this potion was far more important than the last.

Placing the parchment, given to him by Draco, on the counter in place of a textbook, Harry began to sort through which ingredients he would need before he put the cauldron on heat and start to work.

As the sunlight began to cast over the slightly dampened grounds of Hogwarts and fill the corridors and rooms of the castle with golden light, Harry continued to work, unaware to it all.

His mind didn't drift to winning the Quidditch Cup several weeks ago, his first kiss with Ginny around that same time, the hassle of giving Toby a haircut just so the kid could see, the upcoming exams or the fear of how to hide Toby once they returned to Privet Drive in a few weeks.

All he could focus on was the antidote.

His mind lost to his task, Harry didn't notice Severus pausing in the corridor outside the room as the professor observed the partially ajar classroom door. With one hand, Severus touched the wood and allowed it to swing open without a sound. He may have become accustomed to seeing the teenager in such a place during the past many months, yet Severus always paused at the sight in front of him. Harry, so focused on his important brewing, failed to notice the man even as Severus carefully re-closed the door and left to continue his path towards the Great Hall for breakfast. He wasn't sure why, but Severus had a feeling that whatever the boy was brewing at such an early hour was important and so he let the Gryffindor be.

Soon, the Slytherin professor would think back on that moment and realise how his inaction was perhaps a most crucial event that, had he interrupted Harry, would have drastically changed everything that was to come.

No one saw Harry again until lunch later that day when he hurried into the Great Hall for a break, since his potion needed to sit for a few hours before he could resume. He only dared to do so because he had made Slughorn promise that no one would touch it. Harry was hesitant about asking for such a favour, yet picked up on the fact that no matter how Slughorn appeared and acted, there was much more trustworthiness in the Professor than it seemed.

He knew Slughorn would keep his word, which was such a promise-fulfilling aspect that Harry now wondered if it could be labelled as a Slytherin trait, as he thought of Draco and Snape, who also kept their word.

Ignoring the questions of his friends from all around, Harry ate his sandwiches and allowed his mind to continuously concentrate on his potion. Once he was satisfied by his brief meal, Harry left the hall alongside Hermione and returned to his dormitory where Toby was sitting on his bed with a book. His brother glanced over at him and smiled, yet didn't move to hug Harry or make any requests.

The night previous, Harry had gone to great and careful lengths to explain to Toby that he had a very important potion to brew and he mustn't become distracted from it because it may save lives one day. Toby was surprisingly very adaptive to the fact and never once complained that he felt left out.

As Harry paused to change his tie, since the other one had gotten beetle juice on it, he glanced at Toby and smiled. His brother was the first sight Harry had observed recently in which had no relation to the potion, yet he had properly seen.

'Come on.' Harry nodded without explaining, yet the boy hardly questioned the instruction and did as he was told.

Toby approached him and accepted the vial being offered to him. Frowning once, yet trusting Harry, he swallowed the contents and gasped as he visibly aged from the six-year-old to an eleven-year-old. Dressing in a green sweater, black pants and black robes, Toby grinned as he had always hoped to use the potion again just as he had when Harry played Quidditch back in March. He may look like a first year, yet Toby was still six-years-old in his mind and behaviours.

Hurrying to keep up with Harry, Toby relished the sight of Hogwarts as he followed his brother through the Grand Staircase and finally to the dungeons. He had seen it all many times before while under the invisibility spell or cloak, yet there was something wonderful about walking around without the aide of concealments, as though it was where Toby truly belonged.

He glanced at Harry when the Gryffindor held open the classroom door for him and waited until it was properly shut and warded before the boy glanced at his brother with confusion.

'Harry?' Toby bit his lip. 'Are you sure this is okay?'

'It's risky, I know.' Harry sighed as he briefly checked his potion, which was a pale blue colour and exactly as he had left it.

'But something bad is going to happen, Toby.' He looked at the younger boy. 'Voldemort is getting stronger and I know he's going to do something soon. I don't know how I know...I can just feel it.' He sighed as Toby moved to stand across from him at the opposite side of the bench.

'What happens if Voldemort attacks Hogwarts?' Toby asked with fear. 'I don't have a wand! I-I can't do magic. He'll get me, Harry!'

'I'll keep you safe, Toby.' Harry forced himself to look at the boy, though he always struggled to see his six-year-old brother several years older in appearance. 'I promise. Nothing will happen to you, not even if something happens to me.' He lowered his gaze to his instructions and quickly diverted Toby's attention before either of them could worry further.

'This is an antidote.' Harry said. 'Do you remember what that is?'

'Um, yeah...an antidote is a potion that gets rid of bad stuff...like poisons, right?' Toby frowned as he thought about it.

'Ten points to Slytherin!' Harry joked, though winced as he'd rather give the potions to Gryffindor or any other house, even if he was only pretending.

Toby snorted at that while Harry checked over the instructions for his next task.

'I brought you here because I don't want anyone to know about this potion. But someone has to...in case something happens and it's needed. I also need someone to help me. There are three steps I just can't do on my own.' He revealed.

Harry could have picked Hermione, who would have been the most logical choice with her skills and trustworthiness, however he knew from his own experiences that one should never underestimate young kids. Toby was a secret, and it was exactly the sort of person who Harry wanted to know about the antidote...just in case.

'You...you want me to HELP you?' Toby stared in awe and shock. 'M-me?'

'Yes. Could you slice these leeches exactly in half?' Harry placed a cutting board, knife and a jar of dead leeches in front of Toby. 'Remember, this is a really important antidote and we have to do everything perfectly. I know that sounds hard, but I believe in you and I know you can do it.'

Blushing from the encouragement and eager to impress his brother, Toby nodded and slowly began to cut the leeches.

He squirmed at first when he put his hand into the slimy jar and was worried about slicing his own finger with the knife, yet as he looked at Harry and saw the concentration on the teenager's face, Toby knew his job was super important so he set to work, not wanting to let his brother down.

'How many do I cut?' Toby asked.

'Eight.' Harry replied as he ground some deep red beans into a fine powder with the pestle and mortar.

Toby placed a second leech onto his board but his robes were getting in the way. Shifting his arm, he gasped fearfully when his elbow knocked the jar of leeches that had been too close to the edge of the counter.

With a ear-shuddering SMASH the jar hit the floor and shattered, sending leeches everywhere.

Harry looked over quickly while Toby stared, shocked and tearful, at the mess he had made. Before he could frantically say how sorry he was to have ruined things for Harry, since Toby had no idea if they could get any more leeches, the boy yelped when Harry rushed around the bench. Harry emerged to Toby's side in time to see that the leeches had never touched the floor. They hovered a few inches away from any surface and the jar slowly began to re-seal itself around them.

The jar levitated back into Toby's shaking hands and both boys were unable to react for at least several seconds.

'Did I...'

'Yes, Toby.' Harry smiled with relief and amazement. 'You just did magic.' Distracted by the limited time he had for each step in brewing the potion, he quickly returned to his work and instructed Toby to do the same.

Swallowing, Toby carefully placed the jar on the bench and far away from the edge as he resumed in his cutting of the leeches, making sure they were all equal lengths.

Harry checked on his progress every once and again and was glad that the boy had obviously inherited the Potion-Making skills that was present so thoroughly within the Prince family line; just as strongly as red hair was in the Weasleys.

-- 

It was almost time for dinner when Toby sat on the bed he shared with Harry and thought to himself about the brewing he had done.

He felt so proud of himself because Harry had trusted him, and then he'd also used accidental magic to save the jar of leeches. Additionally, as Harry had stoppered the vial of pale green antidote, he'd looked down at Toby and gave him a wide, grateful smile. It had filled the boy with so much warmth that he just wanted to hug Harry and never let him go.

His brother loved him, trusted him, and...Toby's thoughts came to an abrupt halt as he realised that something was out of place in the dormitory.

'Felix?' Toby looked around for the grey kitten he had saved near Christmas, who had grown into a dark silver cat with deep blue eyes.

Sliding off the bed, the six-year-old checked likely places for his cat to be hiding in, yet could not find his feline pet anywhere. Anxious, as he was the only one there, Toby realised that Felix had run away again. The cat had done this twice already and each time he was found at the same place that seemed to intrigue the animal.

Not calling Dobby, as the elf often gave Felix a fright, Toby frowned as he thought for a solution. With his newfound confidence from helping Harry, he grabbed the invisibility cloak and covered himself as he hurried from the dormitory and was soon staring fearfully around the Grand Staircase.

Treading a carefully recalled path, Toby only got a little lost until he finally reached the girl's bathroom that often leaked puddles of water onto the stone floor. He knew a ghost lived inside but had never seen her.

Felix had been finishing a mouse nearby when he meowed and hurried happily over to Toby, yet the younger boy was more interested in having a glimpse at the ghost inside the bathroom than collecting the cat he had sought to find.

Forgetting his instruction to never be seen, Toby removed the cloak for ease of movement and carefully pushed open the door to the bathroom, with Felix at his side.

Toby's eyes went wide as what he saw inside the damp room was not a scary, loud ghost of a girl but instead a student over by the sinks who appeared to be crying. Toby, as short as he still was since he was only six, could not see enough to notice exactly who it was. Yet the blonde hair, general height estimation and Slytherin attire was more than enough evidence for him to guess.

'A-are you okay?' Toby asked and then clamped a hand over his mouth, horrified that he had just spoken before he had time to realise how dangerous he was being in regards to keeping his existence a secret.

Too scared to simply turn and run while forgetting about the cloak draped over his forearm, Toby could only stare as the Slytherin turned quickly to see who had interrupted him.

Draco Malfoy blinked as he spotted the small boy and opened his mouth to speak, but a rumbling nearby that shook the floor and walls brought about bigger concerns than their current situation.

Terrified, Toby cried out and clung to the nearest stone wall just outside the bathroom. He stared up at Draco, who emerged beside him with his wand in hand, and felt tears in his eyes as he wished he'd stayed in the Gryffindor dormitory where he had been safe and concealed.

The sound of running feet nearby and screaming forced Toby to close his eyes, too petrified to move or react productively.

'Hey.' Draco grabbed his shoulders, jerking Toby's eyes open again with the sudden and forceful movement. 'Run.' He said while taking the cloak from the boy and pointed towards the corridor where Toby had come.

'Go...RUN!'

Toby nodded and cared nothing for the stolen cloak as he turned and ran away as fast as he could.

He felt tears on his face as more people screamed nearby and the floor shook underneath him. He stumbled on a loose piece of rubble that sent him flying towards the floor in a painful motion. Toby called for Harry, yet it was Kreacher who appeared in front of him. The elf reached over and grabbed Toby's wrist before vanishing them away. 

When Toby opened his eyes, Irma was grabbing him and soon pulled him into her private rooms to keep him safe, her eyes wide with dread and urgency.

'Where's Harry?' Toby sobbed. 'What happened?'

'You-Know-Who has attacked the castle.' Irma swallowed as she gripped her grandson with one arm and her wand with her free hand. 'I don't know where Harry is, but you must stay here. It's the only place where you're safe now, Toby.'

Irma didn't have the heart to tell the little boy that she had no idea how long their safe haven would last with the war that was obviously forming, just as everyone had feared.

Harry, still reassured that Toby was safe for now, pushed through the crowds of students on the staircase that were running around in various directions.

Most had been on their way to the Great Hall for dinner when it happened. Harry had been furious at first, since Dumbledore showed up and had clearly expected the attack of Death Eaters in Hogsmeade. He rallied the teachers and they put up a shield around Hogwarts, except the Headmaster himself had not assisted with it. The Order of the Phoenix arrived and Voldemort's voice told them to deliver Harry Potter and none shall be harmed. If they delivered Harry Potter...they would be rewarded.

Harry stopped recounting the events then, as he had arrived at the Gryffindor common room.

So much had happened in so many hours and it was almost midnight. Battles of Death Eaters versus others were taking place all around Hogwarts and the grounds. Dumbledore seemed to have vanished, though he passed by Ron and Hermione not long ago, who said the Headmaster had given them a job to do. Snape and Draco were nowhere to be seen either and briefly Harry wondered why he even thought of them, or cared.

Grabbing vials of potions from his trunk, Harry gasped as he spotted motionless bodies and flying spells through his window as he looked down towards the ground. Grimacing, as he'd been expecting a war and yet had been caught unprepared when it actually happened, Harry leaned his back against a wall and tried to catch his breath.

Harry panicked.

He wasn't sure what to expect, he couldn't find those he relied on, and Harry didn't even know if those he cared about were alive or dead. He was lost and terrified. How would he know what choice to make? What could he do when Harry felt so confused and unsure? Closing his eyes and clutching his vials to his chest, Harry ducked his head and felt tears sting his eyes.

At that moment when, for the first time ever, Harry felt the urge to give up...the most unexpected thing happened. Nothing in the room changed and the battle continued around him, yet in his own mind a voice from his memory emerged. He had never heard the words, having only read them, yet he heard them now, being spoken in the voice of their owner.

“When the time comes...trust your instincts. And never give in. The moment you give in...you've already lost. Let the will to survive and protect those close to you to fill you inside whenever you doubt yourself. Do that and your way forward is clear....”

'I'm not alone.' Harry whispered the last part.

Swallowing, Harry pushed himself away from the wall and stormed out of the room. Determination set in his bones again, he carefully continued on the path to his destination.

'Thank you, Professor Snape...wherever you are.' Harry said as he once again found himself on endless stairs. 'I just hope you're following your own advice. And if you ever need me...I'll be there, I hope.'

'Harry!' Hermione's voice called to him as she and Ron burst into view. 'There you are. We've been so worried!'

'What's going on?' Harry was desperate for information. 'Where's Dumbledore?'

'You haven't seen him?' Hermione sounded anxious as she and Ron shared an expression .

'What were you doing?' Harry asked and quickly stepped out of the path of falling rubble. It felt like the whole castle was being attacked and for a moment he wondered if the magical school could actually collapse.

'Destroying a Horcrux, mate.' Ron replied. 'Dumbledore didn't tell you?'

Growling, Harry didn't reply and only moved to pass his friends, though they hurriedly followed after him.

'Where are you going?' Hermione asked. 'We have to kill the snake!'

'Did Dumbledore tell you that?' Harry snapped and whirled around to glare at them. 'Did he share anything else with you? What am I supposed to do? What's the plan? Do we just sit around and hope for the best?'

'Harry, no one's just sitting around.' Hermione said quietly. 'We thought-'

'Yeah, everyone's thinking but no one's talking, are they?' Harry turned and continued to head for his destination, ignoring his two best friends as they tried to keep up with him.

'I know you're angry, Harry.' Hermione tried to talk to him. 'But we have a job to do. We have to-'

'Kill the snake, yeah I heard you the first time.' Harry grumbled. 'Look...' He paused and faced them once again, brushing some dark hair from his face as he did so. 'You do what you have to...I-I have follow my instincts.' He said.

Harry felt bad for being annoyed with them as they were in the middle of the war and he was terrified of losing them. Seeing Ron and Hermione had actually made him relieved as they were okay and...alive. But chaos was taking place around them and Dumbledore had told him nothing.

Harry felt as though his whole life was leading up to this one moment and when the moment arrived, he'd been told to sit it out and await instructions.

'Where's Toby?' Ron wondered.

'Safe.' Harry replied. 'I think.' He frowned and glanced at the vials in his hands, which his friends had just noticed as well.

'Liquid luck?' Hermione recognised the first one. 'What's the other?'

Harry had given them both some earlier of that potion, and a few others...yet there was just enough inside for one final gulp and he could not bring himself to be the one to consume it. The second vial was his special antidote which he really hoped Draco was right in assuming that it would work against Nagini's venom.

Harry hoped he would never need it.

He told his friends none of this and merely proceeded to walk again, unable to remain still while others older and younger than himself were fighting for their lives.

'Do you know where the snake is?' Harry asked. 'Or how to kill it?'

'We have some Basilisk fangs.' Ron said. 'But no, we haven't got a bloody clue where the snake is. With You-Know-Who, probably.'

'I don't want to ask, Harry.' Hermione sighed. 'I know you're supposed to be blocking him out, but...well, have you seen anything? Like, a vision of You-Know-Who?'

'No.' Harry frowned. 'I blocked it all out. I've been practising Occlumency and...I don't get visions anymore. I don't know where Voldemort is.' He guiltily wondered if that was a mistake now.

'Competence comes at a price”, Snape had once said.

'The boathouse.' A voice caused the trio to halt in the corridor.

Turning, they saw no one until Draco removed Harry's invisibility cloak from himself.

'The Dark Lord is at the boathouse. I heard father mention it. He wants to talk to Snape.'

Harry felt his friends grip their wands, untrusting of Draco, and realised that maybe he should have kept his friends more informed also. How hypocritical of him. Harry lowered his gaze to his cloak that was clutched in the Slytherin's hand and glared at Draco, as he knew that the last likely person to use it was Toby.

'How did you get that?'

'Never mind, Potter!' Draco stressed. 'Did you do what I told you to?' He noticed the two vials Harry held and calmed only the tiniest bit. 'Good.'

'Harry, what's going on?' Hermione sounded every bit as confused as she had the right to be when seeing Draco and Harry seemingly on allegiance terms.

'It's nothing. I don't have time to explain.' Harry brushed them off. 'How do I know I can trust you?' He watched Draco carefully, looking for even the slightest sign of a lie or misleading.

'The fact that I'm not turning you in right now should be evidence enough.' Draco said, though his wand was now in his hand.

'You're outnumbered.' Harry stated. 'Try again. Why are you helping me?'

'Does it bloody matter why?' Draco rose his tone angrily.

Hearing footsteps nearby, Draco turned quickly with a panicked expression, though no one appeared to be there. Harry recalled the danger Draco was putting himself and his family in and his mistrust calmed. He knew, that Draco would not turn on him now, though he had no way of knowing this, not really...all he could blame for it was his own instincts.

Snape was at the boathouse with Voldemort and Nagini.

They had to kill the snake, and yet Harry's first thought was: “what if Snape needs my help?”.

It was foolish, of course, since Snape didn't need help from anyone and being a spy this long indicated that he could survive Voldemort's company, yet Harry had to know. He had to get there and quickly, especially since he had an important stop to make first.

'I'm going to the boathouse after I do something first.' Harry announced. 'Don't follow me.'

'But Harry, the snake-' Hermione went to say.

'I know.' Harry nodded. 'We can't kill it there. I may not be having visions but Voldemort will come here. We'll get our chance.'

'Then why are you going to the boathouse?' Ron's question went unanswered as Draco vanished under the cloak again in the same second that Harry disappeared around a corner, heading for some stairs.

Toby had to come first, and once Harry was sure his brother would be safe, he would do the same for Snape. If Dumbledore wasn't going to give him instructions, then Harry was doing it his way...by following his instincts. 

Harry wasn't sure how he hadn't been discovered, but he showed up at the boathouse just in time to hear what Voldemort was saying to Snape, as the teenager concealed himself from both nearby.

A year ago Harry would not have trusted Snape to be on their side. Yet even when he'd never admitted it aloud...Toby had convinced Harry that deep down, Snape was good, and remained loyal to Dumbledore.

'It was foolish to attack the castle while Dumbledore remains as the Headmaster.' Voldemort was saying while Nagini slithered nearby.

Harry silently agreed, yet was pleased when Voldemort did not appear to realise how useless Dumbledore actually was right now. Unless the Gryffindor was missing something else entirely, because surely Dumbledore was fighting or helping, and others simply couldn't find the Headmaster?

'My Lord?' Severus asked as he kept his tone and expression masked, though he felt sickened inside.

'No matter, no matter...' Voldemort sighed. 'Things have changed. Are you familiar with Mildred Merrengold, Severus?'

'Yes, my Lord.' Severus nodded. 'Despised by those of pure descendant, Mildred is said to be a vile witch in which collects heirlooms from purebloods through thieving and trickery.' He frowned and remembered that Granger had one sought details of the repulsive witch as well.

He kept that aspect of information safely concealed within his mind.

'When unable to procure an object, she instead burns the location to ashes, deluded to believe that if she cannot obtain the items, than no one shall own them.'

'Yes.' Voldemort said in an interested tone that raised alarm bells to Severus.

What had he missed? Surely the Dark Lord would not be so interested in a few heirlooms?

'Her niece, Grace Pandorus, has been...useful, in extracting her location.' Voldemort sounded smug yet careless all the same. 'I no longer require the elder wand.'

'Mr Lord?' Severus wasn't sure what to say but felt that something should be said.

He could not understand why the Dark Lord had summoned him here only to mention this particular subject while the war was going on.

'Mildred lives no more. A foolish thief she was.' Voldemort frowned as he paced the boathouse and kept his gaze on Severus while Harry was hidden only close enough to overhear what was being said.

Harry remembered the Ravenclaw girl, Grace, who he had spoken to once or twice earlier in the school year.

He hoped she was alright.

'They will never learn. Pity.' Voldemort glanced towards the damaged castle which was seen through the glass windows. 'They have chosen to fight and protect their...saviour.' He uttered the last word with disgust.

'And so they have chosen their own fate. I shall attend to the boy in person. There have been too many mistakes where Harry Potter is concerned. Some of them have been my own. That Potter lives is due more to my errors, than to his triumphs...I have been careless, and so have been thwarted by luck and chance, those wreckers of all but the best laid plans.' Voldemort said.

Severus merely stood nearby and kept his hands behind his back to fight his urge to curse the tyrant.

'But I know better now.' Voldemort added. 'I understand those things that I did not understand before. I must be the one to kill Harry Potter, and I shall be.'

'Pardon my curiosity, but how, my Lord? Dumbledore is quite insistent on preventing the boy from fighting his own battles.' Severus tried to sound as subservient as possible and not at all curious, merely in awe of such planning.

His stomach gave an ill twist once again as he despised the very being he was supposed to be loyal to. This is what he gave up lily's friendship for?

How could he have been so blind?

'You sound like Lucius. Neither of you understands Potter as I do. He does not need finding. Potter will come to me.' Voldemort looked sharply at Severus, who almost extracted his wand out of pure instinct alone, but caught himself just in time.

'I know his weakness, you see, his one great flaw. He will hate watching the others struck down around him, knowing that it is for him that it happens. He will want to stop it any cost. He will come.'

Harry and Severus did not like to admit it but the Dark Lord had a point, in a way. The only real flaw was that Harry now knew of this plan and Severus remained truly loyal to Dumbledore.

'Mildred revealed an additional piece of knowledge.' Voldemort said in a strange tone...a dangerously calm tone. 'That she had set fire to a muggle orphanage almost a year ago. She had intended for a small boy inside to die. It seems she had moved on to living heirs as well as objects of value and inherit power.'

'My Lord?' Severus was confused.

Harry, however, had to bite back his suppressed gasp as his ears picked up on this startling new information.

'The boy was young and a link to the Prince family line.' Voldemort said, now looking away from Severus and therefore missed the man's honest surprise. 'He was said to have been saved by family. Tell me, Severus...why was I not informed?'

Harry wanted to jump out and defend Snape, who would not know that the boy was his son and who had indeed gone to family (Harry was confused by that but assumed Voldemort meant Toby's grandmother), yet he could not move.

He felt horribly guilty as Snape tried to convince the Dark Lord that he had no idea of such things and the woman must have been lying. But Voldemort was angered already, and the other two noticed far too late that it had only been a scheme.

Voldemort didn't care about what he had spoken of and merely needed enough reasoning to do what he had intended.

Harry's yelp was concealed by the sounds of Snape falling when Voldemort gave a speech about not being convinced of Snape's loyalty and ordered his snake to attack him.

Nagini lunged, again and again, while Snape yelled in pain.

Harry remained still, his eyes filled with tears, until he heard Voldemort and the horrible snake leave. The moment they were gone, he hurried into the boathouse and halted for a second by the doorway.

-- 

Moments later Harry had pocketed the vial of memories given to him by the desperate, agonised Snape, yet as the teenager reached into his robes for the antidote...a cold panic spread through him.

Harry didn't have it.

He had made a detour on the way here to check that Toby was okay. In doing so, Harry had left his two vials there on a table in the concealed living quarters...he must have, since he didn't have them with him yet Harry could not be sure.

How could he be so foolish?

Looking down at Snape, he noticed that the man was on the verge of death. He snatched a bezoar from his robes and shoved it into Snape's mouth, though he knew it would do nothing more than spare a little time.

Harry he had to get to the castle quickly to stop the snake and the war. Yet as he made to leave, he could not just do so. Swallowing, he kneeled beside Snape who seemed hardly aware of his presence. Lowering closer, Harry whispered to the man with carefully chosen words of plea.

'Please don't die.' Harry sniffled. 'Please, sir. You're not alone. You have a son. I've been looking after him for you. His name is Toby and he's six years old. He loves Potions and has a cat named Felix, after the liquid luck. Please...please, Snape. Don't die for my mother...live for your son.'

Harry inched back and then he was gone.

Snape's eyes trailed towards the windows where he could see the castle, his entire body aching with pain and dread. His mind still active, Harry's words got through to him, though they seemed so far away...

'Katty!' Toby looked up from the floor when the silvery lion leaped into the room and delivered a message to Irma.

The young boy's face turned pale when he heard Harry's voice talk about what happened at the boathouse. Fear gripped Toby and tears slid down his face as he stared ahead blankly.

Harry was going to face Voldemort's snake, and Snape...his father, was dying alone in the boathouse.

The six-year-old, who hoped to be seven in two months, turned towards his grandmother's horrified expression. She sank into a nearby armchair and seemed lost to him. Her face whiter than his, Toby waved a hand in front of her eyes but she appeared to have gone into shock.

Gulping, the little boy looked around the room for something to make him feel better or that would tell him what he was supposed to do and how he could help.

His obsidian gaze fell to a nearby table. The two vials that Harry had left there seemed more visible under the nearby candlelight.

Toby, seized with determination and denying the fading life of his father and danger all around him outside the room, grabbed the two vials and gulped down the last of the one he had named his cat after: the liquid luck.

Feeling a calmer sensation flowing through him, the boy gripped the protected vial containing the antidote and glanced at his nana.

Swallowing his fears as what he was about to do was the only action Toby could perform to keep himself from breaking entirely. Toby rushed to the door and thrust it open. He skidded into the library and glanced around.

Exhaling, he just ran where he felt he should go, confident that the lucky potion would guide him.

I walk a lonely road

The only one that I have ever known

Don't know where it goes

But it's home to me and I walk alone

Toby ran through corridors and down staircases, his lungs gasping for air as he didn't waste a single second. Portraits and walls passed by in a blur; Toby doubted that he had ever run this fast before in his life, which was saying something since he could out-run Harry.

He was counting on that now.

Pausing on the verge between indoors and the exteriors of the castle, Toby's eyes broke their concentration as he halted and leaned to a nearby wall to catch his breath. He was stunned by what he saw and tears sprung to his eyes again, obscuring his vision of the horror around him.

Spells were flying and people screaming, others laughing while children and adults alike fell, bloody or still. The young boy could not move. He was terrified and though he had seen tragedy when his orphanage had begun to burn all around him while Toby had been trapped and abandoned...this was worse. He almost wished he was back in the fire...anything not to be seeing his friends and those he liked being hurt or struggling with those scary Death Eaters.

I walk this empty street

On the Boulevard of broken dreams

Where the city sleeps

And I'm the only one and I walk alone

There were giants, and large spiders, as well as battling suits or armour, centaurs and so much more than just witches and wizards trying to stop each other. With the antidote clutched in his hand, Toby knew he had to cross the courtyard...the battlefield, in order to make his way to the boathouse.

But how?

Just how lucky would the lucky potion make him? Could he really risk it? His fear told him he couldn't, yet as his heart pounded in his chest and his breath caught in his throat, Toby knew he had to.

His father was dying.

I walk alone

'Ahh!' Toby squealed, though the fighting around him drowned it out, when someone grabbed his shoulders from behind.

If he had not been so frightened and on edge to begin with, the boy might have dropped the protected yet fragile antidote.

Turning quickly, he looked up at Draco whose blonde hair was a mess and clothes a little torn. His face was smudged and the Slytherin did not look like himself, or at least not like the person Toby was so used to avoiding and despising.

'Toby.' Draco looked down at him. 'You have to get that potion to the boathouse, do you understand?'

With his shock and fear, Toby could only gasp as he tried to talk, finally choking a little on his withheld sobs as he nodded.

'H-how do you know my name?' Toby asked.

'I've known about you for a while.' Draco replied. 'When I give you the signal, you have to run.' He said seriously with his wand in hand and an expression on his face that showed Toby that he was not alone in his fear.

My shadow's the only one that walks beside me

My shallow hearts the only thing that's beating

Sometimes I wish someone out there would find me

'Til then I walk alone

'Now!' Draco fired a curse across the courtyard and shoved Toby in the back at the same time.

Stumbling, Toby assumed that was the signal and took off running again. He jumped rubble and avoided spiders that were much scarier than the dead Aragog had ever been, since they were alive and unpredictable.

He never really liked spiders, much.

As he ran, Toby saw brief blurs of colour and mixed sounds, until his foot caught on a stone and he fell.

'Ow!' Toby cried out when he placed his left wrist to protect himself and kept the right one out of the way, since that hand gripped to the vial securely.

The impact of the fall with one one hand to stop himself caused a pain to spread through his fingertips and wrist, though nothing seemed broken. Not that he'd know, since Toby had never broken a bone before that he could remember.

I'm walking down the line

That divides me somewhere in my mind

On the border line of the edge

And where I walk alone

Crouched on the ground, Toby decided to roll over and then get up...an action that saved him from being crushed by a large falling piece of stone.

He supposed the lucky potion was still working, then.

Sniffling, Toby stood and found himself in the middle of the battle, though spells hit rocks instead of him and giant dead spiders blocked him from the sight of the more evil fighters, which he was thankful for.

In amidst of it all, Toby turned to face the way in which he would run to be free from the scene.

Yet he felt the urge to look around and he did, turning in time to see Fred Weasley backed against a wall. Gasping, as he quite liked the Weasleys, Toby grabbed a rock and threw it without even thinking of a target or why he had done that. The rock hit the back of a Death Eater's head, who turned to see who had thrown the object. At just the right time, Toby slipped against a stone and was concealed from sight.

It gave Fred exactly the distraction he had needed.

Read between the lines of what's

Messed up and everything's all right

Check my vital signs to know I'm still alive

And I walk alone

Panting, Toby peered over the stone boulder and turned towards his freedom. He had to go, his father's life depended on it.

Rising to his feet, Toby shoved someone out of the way as he bolted for the end of the courtyard. His push, though he didn't know it at the time, had been aimed at Remus, who looked over and noticed a wand aimed his way.

Disarming the Death Eater, Remus wondered if it had been Toby he'd seen yet had other problems as he finally spotted Tonks, who had been looking his way until he had disarmed his opponent.

Realising he was safe, she turned around and rejoined the fight, not noticing how this had just saved her life.

I walk alone

Toby reached the end of the courtyard and stepped into a pathway that went around it. He glanced towards the main bridge and then the entrance to the stairs nearby that led all the way to the boathouse. With urgency, he stared down them and then glanced back to the fighting.

He felt compelled to help, yet Toby knew he had no wand and knew no magic beyond three spells Harry had taught him.

Turning, as his father was the one who needed him now, Toby started to descend the first of hundreds of steps, hoping and fearing that he wasn't too late...that his father could still hang on. Where was Harry? Why had his brother just left his dad? Where was the great Albus Dumbledore or awful Lord Voldemort?

How long did a lucky potion last?

My shadow's the only one that walks beside me

My shallow hearts the only thing that's beating

Sometimes I wish someone out there would find me

'Til then I'll walk alone....

Toby almost slipped and lost the vial multiple times, and each occasion he was convinced that his potion was wearing off. He felt less confident and more scared as the steps blurred by him at his feet. His lungs ached, his feet felt sore, and his heart felt to want to escape his chest.

Despite his pain, Toby only thought of the things he had learned from Harry about what it meant to do the right thing.

'The only way evil wins is if good people do nothing.' Toby reminded himself in between gasped breaths.

It was his only motivation to keep running, to keep going despite his pain and terror.

I walk alone

The steps seemed to stretch and curve forever.

At times Toby felt dizzy as though he was going to pass out, but his sheer stubbornness would not let him. Toby imagined that if he was dying alone in the boathouse then he'd want someone to keep fighting for him...for someone to save him. He wondered if his dad was scared. He wondered a lot of things. Would Snape had been a good dad if he had known about him from the start? What was his dad's favourite potion? Or book? Why did he wear black all the time? Did he get cold in the dungeons?

There were so many things Toby wanted to know and he, more than anything, hoped that he could ask his father just one thing if the man lived...

'Could you ever love me?' Toby asked the wind in case it could carry his question to his father, who was lying bleeding and alone in the boathouse the boy was desperately trying to reach in time.

I walk this empty street

On the Boulevard of broken dreams

Where the city sleeps

And I'm the only one and I walk alone...

'No!' Toby yelled out when he slid on the second-last step, his stomach falling towards the ground and his wrist too sore to defend himself again.

The vial left his hand as the boy hit his palms against the stone and crouched there, heaving for breath and an end to his pain as well as fears.

'No.' He whispered again and looked around in the darkness, lit only by the flamed torches above and fire around near the castle, for the life-saving vial.

It was nowhere, though he couldn't tell if it had broken because it was still loud outside, even this far from the castle.

Toby looked towards the boathouse which loomed over him. He had never been here before and the dark water scared him as he remembered books about sea monsters and the boathouse was where his father was...possibly dead.

Toby felt hopeless.

It was over.

His dad would be dead by now, surely.

Maybe that's why Harry had left? Swallowing, the boy hung his head so his black hair curtained his face to shield his view. He sniffled and wiped his nose with the sleeve of his jacket. Raising his head a little, Toby remembered that Harry would never give up. Snape would never give up.Toby wanted to be just like them, and therefore he couldn't give up either.

Gulping as a coldness spread over him and froze the water, Toby looked to the sky and yelped at the sight of dark, hooded figures that headed for the castle. He heard fire, whispers, and cries...but they felt far away and his mind went foggy.

A bright spell lit up the area to repel them, and in that moment of light, Toby spotted something reflecting it nearby. The vial of antidote. Snatching it, Toby rushed forward until he reached the space just near the door of the boathouse.

What lay inside?

Was his father alive or...gone forever?

My shadows the only one that walks beside me

My shallow hearts the only thing that's beating

Sometimes I wish someone out there would find me

'Til then I'll walk alone

'H-hello?' Toby's voice was barely audible even to his own ears as he hunched his shoulders and peered into the boathouse. 

He half-expected a scary beast to jump out and kill him. Nothing happened. Though he heard a soft sound nearby.

Eyes wide, Toby stepped backwards when he spotted his father's fallen form, bloody and motionless. Too distraught to make a sound, he literally crawled to the man. Gripping the front of his robes, a small spot without blood, with his small and shaking hands, Toby could hardly see through his own tears.

'No, daddy...please don't be dead!' Toby wailed. 'Please, please come back!' The boy froze when he felt the material beneath his hands move in the form of the one wearing them gasping for air.

Looking properly, now that he could see better, Toby realised that his father was alive! The man winced and sought his face, but Toby had moved too fast as he reached for the previously discarded vial.

'Here. This will make you all better again, I promise!' Toby held it out. 'It's an anti-dot...antidote.' He swallowed nervously. 'Please drink it, daddy. I don't want you to die. Harry doesn't either.'

Severus met eyes with Toby; obsidian reflecting obsidian, though one with desperation and the other physical pain.

Slowly, yet weakly, he tried to reach for the vial. Strength sapped, Severus' hand began to fall yet never landed at his side. The vial was placed in his grip and two hands much smaller than his own gripped his hand to steady the potion and prevent it being dropped.

Once the liquid touched his lips, Severus almost passed out from the pain and knew death was close. He'd have died, even with the bezoar, moments after Harry had left him there if it hadn't been for the departing words the teenager had spared him.

Opening his eyes again, Severus looked at the anxious little boy beside him with a smudged face and tearful eyes. This child looked so much like his younger self, that Severus wondered if he was hallucinating or if Potter had been right all along. For those seconds that felt like days, Severus forced the last of his strength into his hand that tilted the vial with the aide of the child who had called him “daddy”.

'You're not alone.' Toby said. 'I'll protect you.'

He rose to his feet once the entire vial was emptied and looked around the boathouse, searching for something to defend them with in case someone bad came back. Spotting a familiar item next to his father, Toby carefully picked up the man's black wand.

It felt so warm and tingling in his hands, unlike Harry's had when his brother had let him hold his once.

'Lumos!' Toby commanded as he gripped it in his hand.

Nothing happened.

Sighing, he looked over at his father and noticed that the wounds had stopped leaking new blood and were looking more stable than they had when he'd arrived. Hoping that this meant the antidote was working, Toby sat next to the man and sighed. He was too exhausted in every way to bother moving now.

Yawning from his aching muscles and emotionally over-whelmed form, Toby inched closer to his father in fear of falling asleep and leaving them unprotected. His eyes closed a little, though the boy tried to fight it, yet failed.

As his head dropped to land on his father's shoulder, the wand still gripped firmly in his hand lit brightly at the tip before the spell faded again.

As Harry tried to open his sleepy eyes, he wasn't aware of much more than being flat on his back and half-blinded by an odd-looking, bright glowing sun.

He squinted against the light, but didn't have the energy to move. Harry wondered why the sun was a bit oval and appeared to be attached to a long, white pole of wax. Groaning in complaint as he opened his eyes properly and reached around for his glasses, which seemed to materialise in front of him, Harry soon realised that it hadn't been a sun at all. It was a floating candle and suddenly the urgency flooded back into Harry's now-alert senses.

Shoving the candle away and ignoring the hot wax that dripped on his left thumb, Harry sat upright then stood.

It was still dark through the windows though the enchanted ceiling of the Great Hall showed that it was close to sunrise. People were scattered around him, literally, as they watched and seemed to be waiting for something.

'Harry?' A voice asked, which sounded a bit like Dean, yet the emerald-eyed Gryffindor ignored him as he had caught the sight of a fallen form nearby.

Dumbledore stood over the form and slowly, as Harry approached, vanished it to fading dust.

'Was that...?' Harry whispered as he stared at the spot on the floor where the body had once been.

'Yes.' Dumbledore said in an equally low tone yet did not turn to face Harry. 'Lord Voldemort is dead.'

Memories swarmed Harry's unexpecting mind, which caused him to sway, yet was caught by a wizard taller and stronger than himself. He watched Dumbledore just stand there for a moment, though his vision blurred as he forgot to blink.

The incidences of the past 24 hours felt like a far-away nightmare, yet he knew they were true. The recent events came first, such as being shoved to the side while trying to defend himself against Voldemort. Dumbledore had come to the rescue at last. He'd felt dizzy when Voldemort fell and soon Harry had been knocked out from all varieties of exhaustion.

It felt like weeks, yet as he glimpsed a nearby watch, Harry could not believe he had only been unconscious for a mere seven minutes.

What happened before that?

Oh yes, he'd gone to the forest like Voldemort had instructed, after viewing Snape's memories, and Harry had prepared to die. Destroying the Horcrux inside himself was a preferable alternative yet he pretended to be dead because he had still been surrounded by Death Eaters and Voldemort was also nearby.

When Narcissa Malfoy crept beside him and whispered into his ear with the questioning about if Draco was alive, Harry nodded honestly as he recalled seeing the blonde cover himself with Harry's invisibility cloak moments before Harry had gone to the forest.

Obviously, he had not died, yet with the Death Eater's and Voldemort thinking he had, they proceeded to the castle to gloat.

The rest was a bit of a confusion to Harry, but it wasn't like he had to explain much to himself, only sort through what he had seen and experienced.

'Alright there-'

'-Harry?'

He glanced over at the twins, Fred and George, and nodded with a nervous smile on his face because he knew he was okay, considering what had taken place, yet he was missing something important...something urgent. Frowning, Harry lowered his gaze and allowed his mind to drift further back into the night.

What was he doing before he saw Snape's memories...DUH.

'Snape!' Harry gasped.

'What?' Neville asked from nearby where he placed the Gryffindor sword against a large piece of rubble and moved to dust off the Sorting Hat.

'Toby!' Harry's eyes went wide as he stared at a random student nearby.

'Er no, that's Colin Creevy trying to find his camera.' Someone said, though he wasn't sure who. Harry dismissed the worried glances some gave each other, all whom did not currently know about the existence of the little boy.

Harry jumped to his feet and turned with a whirl-wind of motion, preparing to head to the library but a grip on his arm stopped him. Growling, he turned to remove the hand but paused when he saw Irma standing there with a regretful expression.

'He went to the boathouse with the antidote.' She exhaled.

Harry, feeling a flush of other memories resurfacing, only nodded. 'Did he drink the other potion?' He asked anxiously, his whole body shaking with dread and anxiety.

'Yes.' Irma frowned. 'Did you expect him to run off?'

'I hoped.' Harry confessed.

He spotted Dumbledore watching him and moved away from those staring at him.

'I have to go-see if they're...I'll be back as soon as I can!' Harry turned to hurry from the hall, hoping that no one would follow him, yet paused when his path was blocked by an unlikely person.

'You confirmed that he was alive.' The witch frowned with sadness, fury and dread all mingled into a very displeased expression. Her husband stood nearby, nursing a bloody nose and sore shoulder.

'Mrs Malfoy.' Harry swallowed and knew he had to go, he had to check on Snape and Toby...he had to pray they were alive. 'Come with me.' He decided in a split second. 'I have to check on someone, then I promise I'll help you find Draco.'

Narcissa considered his words for a moment and glanced towards Lucius.

'Go on.' Lucius waved his hand to his wife, clearly aching too much to follow, though even Harry spotted the concern on the man's face.

Narcissa turned back to Harry and confirmed her agreement before the pair left the Great Hall, hurrying towards the many steps that led down to the boathouse.

'Who is it you are searching for, Mr Potter?' Narcissa asked. 'Why would they be here?'

'Snape and...someone else.' Harry hesitated, still feeling bound in his protectiveness over the secrecy involved with Toby's existence.

Unsure what to think or reply with, Narcissa remained quiet for a few more seconds until she spoke again, sounding more vulnerable than Harry could ever recall, though he hadn't really associated with her very much before now.

'How certain are you that my son is alive?' Narcissa asked. 'You called him by his first name, why is that?'

'He nicked my invisibility cloak just before the battle.' Harry said as a way to distract his troubled thoughts about what he might find at the bottom of the steps. 'We made an Unbreakable Vow ages ago, that he would help me survive the war by giving information. In return for something else, of course.'

'What did he want in return?' Narcissa sounded shocked and in disbelief, but never received a reply as they had reached the door to the boathouse.

Harry froze, as though his feet had been iced to the ground, yet a nudge from Narcissa encouraged him forward. Stepping inside with a sensation of being smothered, Harry's gaze roamed around the moonlit place until he spotted the pair he sought.

Snape was on his back with his wand gripped in his left hand, which was resting on his chest. His other hand had loosely gripped a section of Toby's shirt that the man could reach, which wasn't entirely hard considering that the boy was slumped against his right shoulder.

On the ground near Toby's feet was the empty antidote vial.

'Who is that child?' Narcissa's tone caused Harry to turn and stare at her, not only because he had forgotten that she was there but rather in relation to the recognition in her voice, almost as if she was as shocked as Irma had been to see Toby alive and before her eyes right now.

Harry didn't answer.

He approached Toby and picked the boy up, cradling him as he hoped his brother was only too exhausted to notice the motion. Looking down at Snape, he watched as Narcissa observed his urging nod and moved to check for a pulse.

'He is breathing.' She replied and Harry could release a gasp he had been holding constricted in his throat. 'What happened?'

'Nagini.' Harry frowned and was glad that Neville had killed the snake just in time.

He opened his mouth to ask for Narcissa's help to move Snape to the castle (though it was such a weird thing to remember who he was talking to), yet he halted as the moonlight shone through a window and lit a space nearby. He saw a black shoe and the hem of dark pants, however the rest was concealed. Realisation settled in him and Harry indicated his discovery to Narcissa.

'Draco.' Was all Harry had to say before the witch waved her wand and the cloak flew off her son.

Exhaling at the same time without noticing, both Harry and Narcissa were relieved to see that Draco looked to have merely fallen asleep with his wand in hand, slumped up against a wall.

'Go...away...' Draco groaned when his mother nudged him.

Then, with shocking recollection, he jerked upright and nearly collided with his mother as he jumped to his feet and aimed his wand around. Calming, Draco looked immeasurably relieved as he allowed his mother to hug him.

'Are they okay?'

Draco's simple question about the well-being of Toby and Snape caused Narcissa to step back from him with alarm. Harry had also figured out what she had, but was unable to formulate any words to tell him.

'You...you came here to...protect them?' Narcissa was stunned. 'Why?'

'It was all I could do.' Draco muttered and blushed as he looked at the ground.

'Can you please help me get them to the Hospital Wing?' Harry asked and wondered when Toby had gotten as heavy as he was now.

He nodded a “thanks” when Narcissa levitated Snape's body and Draco went to retrieve the invisibility cloak.

-- 

'Is it over?' Draco asked on the slow walk back to the castle.

'Yes.' Harry said and was relieved when Narcissa placed a feather-light charm on Toby, otherwise he doubted he could get the boy up all those steps.

'He's dead, Draco.'

'Did you...?'

'Dumbledore.' Harry sighed. 'But yes, it's over.'

'Where's father?' Draco noticed the absence of his other family member and panic spread through his face.

'Nursing a bloody nose.' Narcissa said in a bitter tone as she carefully watched Snape's form floating ahead of them.

'Oh.' Draco considered his mother's expression for a moment and seemed surprised. 'Who punched him?'

'Your cousin.' Narcissa said with a sour hint in her voice and gladly increased her pace to finish the rest of the ascent of the steps and headed towards the Hospital Wing.

Draco hurried after her, wondering why Tonks would punch his father, while Harry didn't mind trailing behind a little. He carefully stepped over some rubble and continued towards his destination, glancing down at Toby once and again with relief. Seeing his friends alive and coping was a wonderful sight, but when he saw that Snape and Toby were also okay, it wasn't the same...it was stronger somehow, yet unfamiliar and strange.

Harry couldn't imagine that he could care for Snape more than Ron or Hermione, yet the sensation remained. 

Reaching the Hospital Wing, and surprised to see it decently intact, Harry placed Toby on the bed nearby Snape's, where the man was being fussed over by a tired-looking Madam Pomfrey.

With a yawn, and looking through a window to see the sun emerging from the tips of the mountains in the distance, Harry lay on the bed between Snape and Toby, his eyes closing again and before long...blackness overcame him once more.

It was no surprise that Harry didn't wake until almost midday, though he had not expected that nothing would have changed.

Snape was still unconscious to his left and Toby snoring on his right. Opposite him more beds were filled with healing or sleeping students, including Draco. Narcissa was sitting in a chair beside his bed and Lucius stood behind her, leaning against the wall, obviously having been denied a bed for himself. Madam Pomfrey appeared to have fixed his nose and shoulder, yet the Malfoys had never looked so...injured.

'Here, have my bed.' Harry offered to a third-year girl in Hufflepuff attire, who looked as exhausted as he had felt before he'd passed out. Clutching a bandaged wrist, she smiled gratefully at him and then collapsed against his former bed...she was asleep in seconds.

'Are they okay?' Harry asked as Madam Pomfrey joined him.

'Severus and the boy?' She asked and he nodded. 'Yes. Severus will need a lot of rest, however. Mr Malfoy filled me in on the details. I suspect he'll be out for a few more days at least. The boy...who is he?'

'It doesn’t matter.' Harry said defensively. 'He's just tired though, right?'

'The child will be fine. He was pushed to his very limits. I suspect he has a few more hours of resting to do before he can function again.' Pomfrey sighed.

Harry wanted to check on his friends and the others but could not bring himself to leave Toby. Madam Pomfrey sensed this and assured him that she would not let anyone near the boy.

With relief, he thanked her and hurried from the Hospital Wing to seek out anyone he knew.

--

There were a lot of students still filling the damaged Great Hall.

Harry saw teachers talking in a group nearby, the Weasleys bunched together and hugging tearful yet with relief, Ron and Hermione were near them, and many of his friends or classmates were scattered around the room helping in any way they could.

'Harry!' Hermione rushed to him and nearly knocked him over with a hug.

Ron stood by her side and the other Weasleys approached with thankful faces.

'I'm so glad you're all okay.' Harry felt tears in his own eyes but dismissed them quickly as he blushed a little from the hugs he then received from Ginny and Mrs Weasley.

'Where are Tonks and Remus?' Harry had no spotted them and panic settled in his chest, though no one around him seemed saddened by his question.

'They went home.' Arthur Weasley said. 'To their son.'

'Oh, right.' Harry nodded and felt bad that he'd forgotten about Teddy, who wasn't even two weeks old.

'I expect Remus will be back.' Arthur continued. 'He says he wants to thank Toby. Who is that? You said his name before you left with Mrs Malfoy.' He said, sounding confused and a little concerned.

'He's...forget it.' Harry dismissed. 'Why does Remus want to thank him?'

'He said this “Toby” fellow saved his life.' Percy said from beside his mother. 'He wasn't sure it was him at first, but he saw you carrying the boy back from the boathouse. Is he alright?'

'Just sleeping.' Harry nodded.

'And Snape?' Hermione asked, since she had been with Remus at that moment, intending to chase after Harry, and saw him coming up the stairs with the Malfoys and a hovering Snape.

'Also fine.' He told her and rubbed his forehead, feeling a little dizzy still from the emotions and tiredness. 'Where's Dumbledore?'

'In his office.' Molly Weasley said. 'He's waiting for you.'

Harry narrowed his eyes and turned on his heels as he marched off towards the stone gargoyle's that guarded the entrance to the Headmaster's office. Saying half a dozen possible passwords before he was allowed entrance, Harry stepped onto the revolving stairs and watched the door get nearer.

Remembering his promise to knock, he did so and waited for a reply.

It did not come right away and Harry almost missed the soft voice when Dumbledore finally permitted Harry to join him.

Stepping slowly into the office, Harry looked over at Dumbledore who was slumped in his chair. For a moment he felt worried, but when the Headmaster rose his gaze and offered Harry a smile, the teenager realised that the older wizard was merely exhausted.

'You should get some rest, sir.' Harry commented as he stepped inside the room and proceeded to sit across from the man.

Chuckling, Dumbledore nodded in agreement. 'Yes, I imagine so. Yet for now rest must wait. How are you feeling, Harry?'

'Okay, I guess.' He shrugged. 'We won, sir...or at least, we defeated Voldemort and the Death Eaters were taken away.' Harry saw the knowing look in Dumbledore's eyes and knew that the Headmaster shared his views about the concept of “winning”. A victory, to Harry, consisted of all survivors. They lost many people, good witches and wizards as well as children, in this terrible war.

'I have something to show you.' Dumbledore rose from his seat and moved towards the nearby stairs, passing by an infant Fawkes who appeared to be sleeping.

Harry nodded and wondered what it might be, yet since Dumbledore appeared to be taking his time, the teenager allowed his mind to drift randomly through memories of the war and other incidences.

He didn't care much for what he saw and was vaguely reminded of an Occlumency lesson with the way his memories seemed to have no purpose, only appearing whenever his mind shifted from one to another...

--

The first few that came to mind were of that night, of moments from Snape's memories and of incidences in which he was amongst the war and preparing for the climax of it all.

'On the night Lord Voldemort tried to kill him, when Lily cast her own life between them as a shield, the Killing Curse rebounded upon Lord Voldemort, and a fragment of Voldemort's soul was blasted apart from the whole, and latched itself onto the only living soul left in that collapsing building.' Dumbledore was saying to Snape while Harry watched the memory take place.

'Part of Lord Voldemort lives inside Harry, and it is that which gives him the power of speech with snakes, and a connection with Lord Voldemort's mind that he has never understood. And while that fragment of soul, unmissed by Voldemort, remains attached to, and protected by Harry, Lord Voldemort cannot die.'

'So the boy... must die?'

Harry would never forget the look on Snape's face at that question, because he realised that he was not the only victim to Dumbledore's manipulations. Snape had been trying to protect him and now Dumbledore was saying that Harry had basically lived only to die when the time was right.

'And Voldemort himself must do it.'

--

The next involved Harry once he had just left the Great Hall before he would continue on his path to the forest, to where he assumed he would be sacrificing his life to make Voldemort mortal once more.

Along the way, he had paused and spotted Neville nearby, looking bruised and tired but no less determined than he had been hours earlier. He had really surprised everyone and Harry felt glad that his room mate and friend had gathered the courage to become who he was and the hero so many had not expected.

'You know Voldemort's snake, Neville?' Harry had asked. 'He's got a huge snake... calls it Nagini.'

I've heard, yeah... what about it?'

'It's got to be killed.' Harry nodded. 'Ron and Hermione know that, but just in case they-'

It was strange, how with everything he thought of Dumbledore that in such a moment he would then understand the man. He couldn't say much more to Neville and a moment later he was slowly making his way to the forest, thinking on his new understandings.

He realised that he must be like Dumbledore as well...he had to remain calm and have a clear thought process, plus make sure that there were those to carry on if something happened to him, as Harry knew it was about to.

Dumbledore had indicated as much, though he was still around somewhere, that he had others to take over if he was unable to. Dumbledore had sent Ron and Hermione to the Chamber of Secrets, he had given Snape knowledge to pass on when it was needed, he had been the planner and leader far more than even Harry had realised and he felt a little bad for thinking earlier that Dumbledore wasn't being very useful.

Then he thought of Snape, lying bleeding and alone at the boathouse. He hoped the man was alive, he really did, yet Harry was more certain now that the antidote and last gulp of lucky potion had to be in Toby's reach. He had sent a Patronus along (and had been startled to remember how it was no longer a stag but a stunning lioness), to tell Irma and Toby what had happened. He knew now that even though he hadn't realised it at the time, this was a part of the need for back-ups as well.

Now Harry hoped that Toby would realise, with his intellect even at a young age, that the antidote could save Snape. If the boy took the last of the lucky potion and headed to the boathouse, Harry was confident that both would survive. He could do nothing for Snape now, and even though he hated to admit it but he could do nothing for Toby either.

He really hoped his brother would figure it out, because neither wanted Snape to die.

He reached the forest.

Draco still had his invisibility cloak and he was tempted to use a spell but he wasn't sure how to remove it. Sighing, he inhaled a deep breath and headed to his doom.

--

Still waiting on Dumbledore, Harry shifted in his seat and thought of another memory, the one where he had been sure he was dead, yet Sirius had appeared to him in that too-white place and explained a few brief things about how Harry could go back, or he could “board a train” and move on.

'I have to go back.' Harry had said.

'Of course.' Sirius nodded with a grin and sat beside Harry on a seat, looking around at the cleaner, more vacant version of King's Cross Station. 'It's been a long journey, hasn't it? Form losing your family to gaining new ones?' Sirius said while Harry looked around as well, wondering what his godfather was seeing.

'And now this...it all comes down to this, your crowning moment.'

'I never wanted to be the “Chosen One”, Sirius.' Harry sighed. 'But you're right, it does come down to this. How can I stop him? He may be mortal but he's still-'

'A spell-spitting lunatic?' Sirius chuckled. 'Yeah. I'm not worried though. You're a Gryffindor, Harry.' He looked over at him. 'Us lot have a habit of doing the most stupidest things and somehow surviving it.'

'Not always.' Harry lowered his gaze as his godfather hadn't survived it.

'I think I used my “escape death” cards too much.' Sirius attempted a muggle-inspired joke, which brought a smile to Harry's face again.

'You look different, you know.' Sirius' face changed to be less joking.

'Like Snape, you mean?' Harry frowned.

'Death is strange in ways.' Sirius said, looking to the distance again. 'Grudges and anger...all those silly things don't matter anymore. I'm not mad, Harry.'

'Wait, you said something...before you died, about my father?' Harry said quickly as he remembered it and realised the chance he had in front of him. 'What did you say?'

Sirius looked at him and paused for a moment, then smiled. 'I think...it bears little importance right now. It doesn't matter what you look like or who your father is. James loved you, kid...he gave up his life for you and your mother. Isn't that what a father does? Who do you want to be, Harry? That's what matters.' Sirius nodded and noticed the place getting a little brighter as he rose to his feet.

'I think it's time you went back, if you still want to.'

'I'm sorry.' Harry said as he rose as well. 'I miss you, Sirius...so much! You were free again and...now you're gone.'

'I'm still free.' Sirius placed his hands on either of Harry's shoulders. 'Don't worry about me. Dead or alive, I'll always stumble onto an adventure.' He smirked.

'What if I am Snape's son?' Harry worried.

'Buy a lot of shampoo.' Sirius joked. 'Be who you want to be, Harry. No one can fault you for that...not me, and not Snape, though I wouldn't put it past him to try.' He rolled his eyes. 'I have to go now...the adventure is calling.'

'Wait, is this real? Or has this been happening inside my head?' Harry frowned.

'Well, I think the correct answer to that would be...Of course it is happening inside your head, Harry.' Sirius grinned in his most amused way, with the exact expression Harry always wanted to remember him by. 'But why the bloody hell should that mean that it's not real?'

Harry saw his godfather was laughing yet fading away into the light and fear struck the teenager again.

'Wait, come back...what do I do now?' Harry reached for him but the brightness was beginning to blind him. 'Sirius!'

--

Harry had not seen those memories right away, they had been surrounded by brief flashes of his childhood, his earlier years at Hogwarts, moments he'd spent with Toby, words Snape had told him and written to S.J.E, and then just as the last memory to shift through his mind involved the sight he'd left behind at the boathouse to re-enter the battle...Dumbledore emerged in front of him and startled his mind back to the present.

'What is this?' Harry glanced at the large sketchpad that sat in front of him on Dumbledore's desk.

'Do you remember me telling you that before he died, your father left the invisibility cloak in my possession, in which has now been passed on to you?' Dumbledore waited until Harry nodded before he continued.

'This was left by your mother.'

'Why are you giving it to me now?' Harry frowned and instantly reached for it, taking the object carefully from the desk and opened to the first, blank page.

He saw the name scribbled in a corner: Lily Evans.

'I confess that I had forgotten about it over time.' Dumbledore sighed. 'This was hers during her third year at Hogwarts and she held it to great value, carrying it around wherever she went. I was under the impression, when she asked me to store it, that she one day intended to pass it on to you.'

'Thank you.' Harry said as he flipped another page and saw various pictures he didn't recognise, but that were drawn with talent that he was surprised and in awe by.

He saw a large oak tree, a park, a girl who looked to be a younger Petunia, a house...

'Is this...Snape?'

'I have not perused it.' Dumbledore said politely yet glanced over at the picture of the long-haired boy who was laughing as he looked to the side, leaning against the trunk of a tree. 'I believe so. He looks extraordinarily like young Severus.'

Harry shut the sketchpad and smiled at Dumbledore, thanking him again for the gift from his mother, while also making a mental note to snatch his cloak back from Draco. As he looked at Dumbledore, questions swam through his mind, yet the tired look on the older man's face urged him to wait.

So Harry only asked one instead.

'What's going to happen to the Malfoys now?' Harry wondered. 'The Death Eater's were taken away...yet they're still here.'

'Narcissa Malfoy told me what happened in the forest.' Dumbledore said. 'I believed her and it was clear that the family has had a chance in allegiances, though at the most convenient of times.'

'Draco helped me. Snape wouldn't be alive if he hadn't.' Harry shared. 'We made an Unbreakable Vow., Draco and me...I could tell he didn't want to but, I dunno...I don't think he was ever really bad, just...'

'Made all the wrong choices?' Dumbledore smiled sadly. 'Yes, it would appear so.'

'I'll defend them from Azkaban if I have to.' Harry added. 'No one deserves that and they did change sides...that's got to count for something. Draco told me a lot of other things too, which also helped me survive. I suppose, I owe him my life in a way.'

Dumbledore smiled warmly at him and nodded. 'By attempting to kill you, Voldemort himself singled out the remarkable person who sits here in front of me, and gave him the tools for the job.' He explained while Harry listened, having been wondering about that as well yet didn't want to ask.

'It is Voldemort's fault that you were able to see into his thoughts, his ambitions, that you even understood the snakelike language in which he gives orders, and yet, Harry, despite your privileged insight into Voldemort's world - which, incidentally, is a gift any Death Eater would kill to have - you have never been seduced by the Dark Arts, never, even for a second, shown the slightest desire to become one of Voldemort's followers!'

'Of course I haven't! He killed my mum and dad!' Harry growled yet forced himself to remain seated and not to damage the sketchpad in his hands.

'You are protected, in short, by your ability to love. The only protection that can possibly work against the lure of power like Voldemort's. And it seems, in his own way...Draco may have noticed this was well. He had a clear view of what Voldemort was like, and yet he seemed confident enough to risk his life and his family's to aide your survival. I do not think someone like Draco Malfoy would have done so had he not thought you could actually win.'

'He didn't care if I won or not.' Harry remembered while he realised Dumbledore was right. 'He only helped me so I could survive.'

'Is that not the point?' Dumbledore smiled wisely. 'Voldemort set out to kill you himself...therefore, in surviving, what other outcome could be possible? Draco may not wish to admit it, but he hoped you would win, Harry. He was on your side from the moment he suggested the Unbreakable Vow.'

'How do you know he was the one who suggested it, sir?' Harry frowned.

'I did not think it was something you would place your faith in, Harry. You do not need binding magic to trust another, however Draco has not yet discovered the true magic of friendship and loyalty to those outside of bloodlines. The Unbreakable Vow, I believe, was a sign of his desperation.'

'I think so too, sir.' Harry exhaled as he lowered his gaze and remembered how agitated the Slytherin had been. 'And then he went to the boathouse to guard Snape and Toby. I think he's changed now, sir.'

'There are very few things within ourselves that truly change, Harry.' Dumbledore said. 'Most of it is buried deep within, though constantly evolving, evasive even from us until we find the wisdom or need to discover and accept it. We constantly shape who we are every day and only once we are comfortable with that form are we able to say “this is who I am”. I think, deep down...Draco never wanted Lord Voldemort to win.'

Harry looked at Dumbledore for a moment and smiled, because he thought so too. Draco had redeemed himself, and Harry would like to think that long ago...Snape had too.

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.'

The late-afternoon sunlight streamed through the windows of the cracked corridor Harry rushed along. He paid his surroundings no attention, as he headed towards the Hospital Wing, focused only on the destination. Toby's smaller hand was held protectively within Harry's, and the little boy walked with quickened paces to keep up with his brother's strides. Both boys, similar in appearance but different in age, were anxious beyond simple nervousness. They didn't know what to expect, yet showed little hesitation to keep moving forward until they each paused at the doorway.

Harry immediately exhaled, while Toby took a moment to catch his breath.

'I'm scared, Harry.' The small boy confided in the one person he felt to completely trust.

His obsidian eyes looked to the bed furtherest from the door. Madam Pomfrey was nowhere in sight. However, a dark form resting under the sheets couldn't possible be overlooked. Severus didn't appear to have noticed them; he remained still, and silent.

Harry looked down at Toby. He wished he could tell the younger boy there was nothing to be scared of. It was Snape, after all.

With nothing the teenager felt would be reassuring enough to say, the Gryffindor slowly led Toby towards the bed. The walk felt to be much longer than it actually was, as though the entire castle of Hogwarts rested between the doorway and the bed. Harry wondered how Snape would react to have having a son. He suddenly felt a little glad he didn't know the truth of his own heritage.

If it was true, and he was also Snape's son, how could Harry every explain it to the man?

When the pair reached the bed, Harry was easily overcome by how weird it was to see Snape lying in a hospital bed. Such strangeness was washed away the instant the man turned to face them with his customary glare. The anxiety swirling through Harry only increased. The teenager fidgeted on the spot, and forced himself to look away from the dark eyes staring back at him.

No one said a word.

Severus watched Harry, then his gaze gradually lowered to the boy at the Gryffindor's side. Toby reached the grasp a handful of Harry's robes in his own fearful anticipation of officially meeting his father. Man and boy stared at each other, while Harry mentally struggled for something to say.

Toby released his grip on Harry and moved closer to the bed.

The boy rested his forearms against the mattress in effort to see higher. Harry almost hadn't reacted in time to what happened next. The teenager jumped forward to grab Toby around the middle, preventing the boy from climbing onto the bed with Snape. Harry frowned at the squirming child. Toby was so shy and careful most of the time, yet would occasionally then do something Harry himself wouldn't have dared to even consider.

'I'm Toby.' The nearly-seven-year-old stated to the wary occupant in the bed.

'So I've heard.' Severus sat upright.

He felt rather self-conscious, even with the sheet partially covering him. Minus his robes, the man was dressed in his usual attire, but being visited in the Hospital Wing by the pair did not make him feel especially comfortable.

'He's your son.' Harry said boldly. 'Your mother recognised him too. She thought he was dead, but he's not. Obviously.' He rambled a little in his nervousness.

Harry had to tell Snape - he had to let the man know the truth, even if the Gryffindor wanted to keep Toby to himself.

'Precisely how long have you known my mother, Potter?' Severus glared at the teenager.

'Er, a while. Months.' Harry shrugged. 'So? You have a son!' He indicated to Toby.

'And where is the evidence of such?' Severus asked, his tone remaining calmly collected while his mind swam with thought he would rather not place into words. 'The proof?'

'He looks so much like you.' Harry insisted, yet somewhat avoided the question. This did not go unmissed by the man he was trying to convince. 'Your mother knew his, but thought he'd died. That's why she didn't tell you about him then. I'm not lying.' He frowned.

'You are uncertain of the facts, Potter.' Severus scowled. 'I am surprised my mother did not brew a paternity potion the moment she had suspected. Regardless, I would not have consented to it.'

Harry had tried to be positive, and to imagine Snape accepting Toby as he felt any parent should, but Snape seemed to be quite against it. The teenager ducked his head with shame, acknowledging that he was still rather rash with his assumptions. He had no proof, and Harry was annoyed at Snape for catching him on it. He was so certain, and so was Irma, but it wasn't enough.

Toby was Snape's son, and yet they had nothing factual to back up their instinctual, argument-driving claim.

'I'll brew a paternity potion then.' Harry promised, ignoring Snape's statement of having no participation in such. 'I'll do it because I know it's true.'

The battle of wit and stubbornness was interrupted by the small child who didn't care for their words or facts.

'Hi, Daddy.' Toby inched closer to the bed again, having freed himself from Harry's slackened grip.

He stared idolising towards the father he now felt he had. The orphaned boy, who had been such for as long as he could remember, now stood so close to his very own dad. Toby hadn't listened to the conversation, or questioning, as he was too absorbed in his own hope and eagerness.

Severus cringed at the title, and looked over at the child again.

He wasn't as strongly doubtful of the claim as he implied, but he could not work out how any of it was possible. Scarcely a handful of theories had even come to mind. Either way, he wasn't going to make any decisions until he had solid facts he could not deny. Severus hoped the boy wasn't his son. It would mean dooming the child to his ill-equipped care, and enduring shared traits that Severus wished he didn't have. He truly believed any child would be better off without him as the father. He would stay away from the boy until he had no choice in the matter.

All those things passed through his freshly organised mind in a matter of seconds, as his dark gaze remained fixated on a younger set of eyes.

It would be rude not to reply.

'Hello.'

His simple, however awkward, greeting had an undesirable effect on the other two. They notably calmed, and were somehow encouraged to keep up a conversation.

Severus wished they hadn't.

The only thing that overtook his thoughts of uncertainty was the anger building inside him. Regardless of any truth towards the boy's heritage, it seemed Severus was not the first to know about the possibility. He surely did not want to understand how Potter was involved in it all. Why did that brat have to be mixed up in everything?

'Are you okay?' Toby wanted to know. 'Are you better now?'

'Madam Pomfrey said my antidote worked.' Harry added. 'It did, right? I mean, you're not in pain anymore?'

Severus, barely able to keep himself from blushing, was very embarrassed about having two brat standing beside him while he sat in bed. It had been bad enough when Lily visited him, and it was even worse when he himself was no longer a child. He felt even more self-conscious, as though he was perceived as extremely ill rather than merely a bit tired. The antidote that had saved his life, was brewed by Potter – he felt unsure of how to react, and decided he owned Madam Pomfrey an apology for not believing her.

Too much was going on in his mind at once. It was far more than he was used to processing, and Severus was unable to answer their questions or his own. He wondered why they even cared – especially Potter. Why would the brat be so concerned about someone like him?

Severus looked away from their awaiting gazes of obsidian and emerald; two things he'd never thought would share a coexistent context ever again.

Severus remembered waking in the Hospital Wing; last place he ever expected to see again. He'd been told a few short facts about the end of the war, which concluded with the death of Lord Voldemort, and the two standing around him now were the reason he had made it to the point of needing to be informed. Harry had brewed an antidote, which Severus questioned in every degree. It seemed impossible that the boy would know how to make one so powerfully complex, and would be able get his hands on a sample of the venom. And then six-year-old had somehow, despite a terrible war raging around him, made his way to the boathouse to deliver and administer the antidote. It was something Severus had foggy memories of, but still he considered it to be rather unbelievable.

'Get. Out.' Severus hissed.

He wanted to be alone to compose himself and come into terms with everything that had happened. He didn't want to have a little boy staring almost unblinkingly at him while Potter, of all annoying visitors, stood there as though he was waiting for something. Severus felt he was supposed to provide them with something, but he had no idea what it was they expected from him.

'But-' Harry went to say.

'OUT!' Severus snapped loudly, disrupting the previous quietness of the room.

His voice made both boys flinch and jump back with surprise, though he felt no regret for their stunned discouragement.

'Okay.' Harry said very quietly. 'Come on, Toby.'

'I don't want to!' Toby whined.

'Move.' Harry nudged the boy until he started walking.

He gripped the child's hand, to prevent Toby from running back to the bed, and led him to the Gryffindor Tower. They were so absorbed in their disappointment, and a hurt they didn't fully understand, that neither boy noticed passing Irma in the doorway of the Hospital Wing.

She watched them walk sadly by, and turned to glare at her son.

He noticed her and winced, then turned his gaze away to deny her any attention. It was useless, however, as Irma crossed the space to his bed and cast him an expression rather similar to the one he'd aimed at his sons.

'Those boys risked their lives to save yours!' Irma scolded. 'And this is how you thank them?'

'They did it of their own foolish accord. I never asked it of them.' Severus returned.

He believed he owed them nothing – especially not his gratitude.

'You just don't want to admit that a little boy could do what you didn't – protect yourself.' Irma spoke angrily, but did her best to keep her tone at an average volume. Old habits, and in the preference to not have Madam Pomfrey chase her out.

'Or, perhaps, you are still blinded by your ridiculous notion that anyone with the surname “Potter” is incapable of any ounce of genuine goodness?'

'Leave me, Mother.' Severus growled. 'I wish to be alone.'

Irma knew her son's words referred to that very moment. He requested the peace needed during the restful stages of his recovery, and yet it wasn't all. Irma knew there was an underlining meaning to his words. Perhaps Severus hadn't noticed it entirely, but she did.

'Tell me, after she died, did you ever live or simply survive?' Irma wondered, knowing his ignorance to her question was as truthful as an answer. 'You've lost yourself, Severus. You can find yourself again, if you only give those boys a chance. Though she had a good enough reason, Lily left you. Yet her son came back for you. Your son came back for you. Tell me the scar on your arm hasn't vanished your heart with it.'

Instinctively, Severus peeled back the black material of his sleeve to see what had become of the Dark Mark.

He hadn't dared to even touch it, but his mother must have seen the mark on another to have noticed the change. He saw the darkness of the mark had faded, with all its power gone. Only a feint scar remained. Severus glared at it, feeling he could never escape the brand left behind to remind him of the foolish mistakes of his past. He still couldn't grasp the fact he had somehow survived the war whereas so many, children included, hadn't.

Why did he live, when so many others were more deserving of it?

'Harry and Toby care about you.' Irma continued. 'They couldn't stand the idea of you dying. You just told them to get out instead of reassuring them you're okay - that their efforts weren't for nothing. It's moments like this I am reminded that you are your father's son.'

As her voice took on a harsher tone, one he was more used to from his childhood, Severus could not restrain himself from visibly flinching at her words.

Had anyone else said those words, he'd have shouted at them to go away, and search for his wand. But this was his mother, who he despised for betraying and not protecting him, but who he could never actually seek to harm. She was part of a hope he'd once held onto - the an image of family he had dreamed of as a child. Adult Severus had given up on those foolish things now, yet her presence always reminded him of things he wished to forget.

He could not forgive her, but Severus found it hard to blame her entirely for how things had turned out.

For years she had been the target of his father's rage and unkindness, so her son wouldn't have to. It wasn't perfect, but Severus acknowledged there were times he'd had a mother. Someone who cared for him, who tried to help him when she could, and yet all of that could not erase the fact she had essentially abandoned him. And now, after everything, she told him he was the son of the monster who had hurt them every day for most of his childhood. He had expected to be furious and insulted, and instead it stirred an uncomfortable hurt inside him.

Severus felt stricken, and was unable to offer her a reply or ounce of self defence.

'Now what lessons are you teaching your son?' Irma continued, feeling someone had to get through to him before it was too late. She would not allow Severus to throw away what he had, not because of what had once been taken from him. 'No matter how cruel he was to you, when your father was injured and you tried to help him - how did you feel when he shoved you away?' She asked.

Severus said nothing, forcing his gaze away from her with a defeated frown set on his face.

He fought the urge to shout at her to leave him alone, but with her words about him being the son of Tobias Snape...Severus did not want to prove the point by raising his voice in a threatening manner. Had Severus become like him, after all? He didn't drink and or strike people in violence, but was bitter and unable to move on. He shouted and belittled others, even children, and refused to give anyone a chance regardless of if they gave him one. He was disgusted at himself, and furthermore wished he hadn't woken to face all the things he wanted to stay away from.

It was why Harry and Toby received none of his gratitude, because Severus felt he had none to give.

'And the expression on your face during those times?' Irma said in a stern voice. 'I just saw it again on theirs.'

Severus slowly looked towards the door where Harry and Toby had vanished through moments earlier.

He didn't believe her.

He insisted, to himself at least, that the situation was completely different. He was not their father. Even if they were worried about him for an unknown reason, asking if he was okay couldn't possibly be riddled with actual concern and fondness. He refused to believe it. Severus could not see how his mother could say what she was in claim that he was anything like the monster he had always feared becoming.

Convincing himself what she said wasn't true, Severus glared at his mother and regained a shadow of his former composure.

'You're trying my patience, Mother.' Severus said angrily. 'I did not ask for those brats to risk their lives for mine. I was the one who ought to have done so. It was my responsibility to keep Potter safe when I made that retched vow. What happened in the boathouse was hardly my doing, and yet it was as it should have been!'

'Are you angry, Severus, because Harry left you there to die or because he sent someone to save you?' Irma prepared to leave, knowing there was only so much her son would tolerate before he snapped.

She did not fear him, as she had Tobias, but Irma had no desire to test his limits either.

'Face it, you never expected nor wanted to make it out of this war alive. You wished to fulfil your duties and be done with it all, am I right?'

'Get. Out!' Severus snarled.

'You may have accepted death, Severus, but don't you dare become angry because there were those who want you to live.' Irma said in parting, as she turned and left the Hospital Wing.

Her anger fading to sadness, as she remembered the little boy who smiled when he brought her a flower from the garden, or wrapped his small arms around her when he wanted her to remember he loved her. What had she done wrong to lose that little boy of hope and ambition?

Her son was grown now, and he had suffered more than even she had.

Irma remembered seeing him moments before he'd rushed off to find Harry, when the ground had begun to shake. The moment it was clear something was going on, he had sought the boy before Dumbledore without any hesitation. She could see now, more clearly than before, where his loyalties and duties were. He was a solider to Dumbledore, and a spy for those against Voldemort, but Severus needed a duty he believed in.

Ending the war was not something Irma thought he cared much about, if only because the real war was inside him.

Lily had died by sacrificing herself for many reasons, and Severus fought every day to make sure not a single one of them had been in vain. Everything he did was for her, and almost none of it for himself other than his need for redemption. He had seen true evil, and Irma couldn't understand how that had made him as bitter and uncaring as he appeared to be. Yes, bad experiences could do things to people and change them in ways that may be unpredictable or against who they truly were, but not Severus. Throughout his entire life, he had deliberately struggled to not lose himself to a world he felt to be drowning in. Something else was going on under the surface this time.

He had hung onto life for purpose, but Severus had lost hope.

--

Inside the Hospital Wing, Severus wanted to kick and throw things in his fury.

He was angry, confused, and despised everyone who had interrupted his rest. Nothing was the same anymore, nor would it ever be again. Since Lily's death, everything he did was about the war and keeping her son from the clutches of death. Now, Voldemort was gone and Harry could live his life.

And yet, unpredictably, Severus remained.

He had truly expected to die in the war. He had prepared himself many years ago to do every single thing he had to in order to make sure Voldemort could never harm Harry again, and therefore had to be vanquished. And he had, but Severus didn't anticipate anyone wanting to take those same risks for him. Harry and Toby had. He knew his mother's words were true, though Severus had too much to take in to focus on just one part of it.

He did, however, wonder what sort of antidote had saved him.

Potions was what he used to focus, and as an escape from what he didn't or couldn't deal with right away. He did remember venturing through the dungeons early one morning to find Harry brewing what looked to be a rather complex potion. The instructions had been written upon a piece of paper, rather than in a book, and Severus recalled having the unexplained instinct to let the boy be. When he'd turned to head for the Great Hall, Severus had no idea how important that moment had been until now. If he had interrupted the boy, would everything had ended differently? Would he be lying where he was, or would he be gone entirely? Harry must have been brewing the antidote then, and Severus could have changed the outcome without even realising it. And he had, by not disturbing the teenager.

In his own way, Severus had unknowingly determined his own fate.

With that in mind, and still reeling from the sting of his mother's departing words, Severus remembered something she had told him earlier before everything in his life had been overturned. She'd barged into his private quarters and ranted, then left him with a confusion he now began to make sense of. His mother said he'd been robbed, mistreated, and pained, but she had a strong feeling that by the end of this year something he'd lost would come back to him in a way he wouldn't expect it to.

Had she known, even then, how things were going to turn out?

She'd told him: “don't ever shut your heart out completely, Severus. Lily wouldn't want that.”

He couldn't see how it would be true, given the circumstances in which Lily had broken off their friendship and shown all signs of no longer caring what he did with his life or heart.

He hated the mass of uncertainties and loss of control, yet could only turn to the doorway when he felt someone was watching him. His eyes narrowing with irritation, Severus was not pleased to see Potter had returned. The teenager stood there, as though stuck to the space of the doorway, and stared at Severus with wary emerald eyes.

Slowly, Harry approached his sour professor and sank into the nearest chair beside the bed. He didn't speak, just hung his head and sighed.

Severus was perplexed. He had no idea what the brat wanted, nor could he bring himself to snap at him again. Against his will or not, Harry bloody Potter had saved his life more than once.

The silence dragged on, until Harry lifted his chin and fixed Severus with a determined expression.

'Please.' Harry said in a strangely quiet voice.

It was a sound Severus had never heard from the boy before, in any form, and it was enough to startle him. He expertly concealed his reactions, but didn't dare to speak.

'Please, Sir. Please give Toby a chance.' Harry spoke emotionally. 'He is your son, I know it. He's only six - he's just a little kid. He doesn't think about the stuff we do - about how hard stuff can be or that things aren't as simple as we want them to be.'

'What exactly is it you're asking of me, Potter?' Severus growled, though tiredly.

'Don't shut him out.' Harry said. 'Don't be mean to him. He cares about you. He risked his life to save you. He was so scared, but he had to help. He's your son. Toby is brave, smart, and kind. Anyone would be lucky to know him. Hate me, I don't care, but Toby's not me. This isn't his fault. You're his dad, you have an obligation to him.'

'Any obligation I may or may not have is hardly any of your concern.' Severus snarled, irritated that now he was getting some sort of lecture from a teenage Potter. 'Regardless of any truth or falsehood, precisely how long were you under the assumption that the boy may be of my blood? How did he come to be here?' He narrowed his eyes suspiciously.

Harry stared at Severus and allowed a contemplative silence.

He could easily summarise it, he supposed - about Toby showing up during the summer and Harry, unwilling to turn him away, brought the boy to Hogwarts to look after him. He'd leave out all links to Severus in regards to exchanging messages, of course, as that was a secret Harry wanted to protect. Yet, the rest didn't seem like enough. And so, the teenager took a dreading breath and told the near-complete story. He wanted Severus Snape to know it all, and to understand how hard Harry tried to look after the boy.

He wanted the man to know how amazing Toby was.

Harry talked for over an hour, while Severus never said a word.

He remembered the incident in Hogsmeade, when he'd greeted his own child for the first time without any awareness of it being such a momentous occasion. He listened, and often growled, as Harry told his story. He couldn't help listing all the rules the Gryffindor had broken in the course of a single year. Even the Weasley twins wouldn't have been able to keep up with such a record, Severus was sure.

Even so, in a rare showing of respect, he let the boy get it out of his system. He could see in Harry's eyes that it was important for the teenager to do so, no matter what Severus thought of it.

At the end of the tale about meeting Toby, hiding him in his dormitory with the aide of his friends, recruiting Dobby and Kreacher to assist, teaching the boy the basics of Potions, meeting Eileen Prince, and doing what he had to in order to keep the boy safe and healthy, Harry felt exhausted. He'd stared at the floor most of the time, trying to ignore the short intake of breath or grunt Severus made in obvious disapproval towards the methods Harry had resorted to.

Once he stopped talking, Harry cautiously looked up and wasn't able to decipher the man's reaction.

'I'm impressed, Potter.' Severus said, though sarcasm leaked into his tone. 'Your foolishness truly knows no bounds.'

'What's so foolish about it?' Harry grumbled, crossing his arms over his chest in a way Severus thought was eerily familiar. The fixed frown staring back at him was rather worrying as well, in terms of likeness.

'An idiotic boy's dormitory is scarcely a place for a child to grow up.' Severus stated. 'If you truly wanted to do what was best for the boy, you would not have hid him away. Tell me, Potter, was the secret of his existence for his benefit or yours?' He said unkindly.

Severus was still bitter about the secret being kept from him - if anyone had the right to know, he did.

'Yours.' Harry growled, fists clenched over the material of his pants to prevent himself from jumping up to shout at Severus. 'You couldn't know. Not until now.'

'That was not your decision to make!' Severus snapped suddenly, startling Harry just as he had earlier. 'Even by mere possibility, I had every right to know! I am the adult here, brat. You're but a child. A fool-hardy child who hid a boy under your bed like a lost puppy. I deserved to know!' Rage filled him, and Harry knew it was time to leave.

The teenager had nothing to say, so he merely stood and headed for the door. Pausing, he turned to look back at Severus and a pang of guilt filled him. Oddly enough, he was so convinced he had done his best for Toby that it wasn't what made him feel guilty for how things had turned out.

Harry had not expected, of all things, Severus would be most mad about not knowing he had a son.

It made Harry wonder if maybe, just maybe, it was better to know.

Harry reached into the pocket of his robes, as he turned the corner and headed away from the Hospital Wing. He stared at the vial in his hand, clutching it firmly, but carefully, and wondered if he too wanted to know. Did he also have the right to know? He realised he understood entirely, about how it felt to be told there was a major secret about himself and no one thought he had the right to know until the time was right. When was it ever a right time?What gave others the right to decide that?

Harry halted under a flaming torch and stared hard at the vial, contemplating if he wanted to know or if it was best to believe what he had for most of his life.

James Potter loved him, and gave his life for his, and Harry felt he should honour that. And yet, if he had another father, one who had also risked his life to save Harry's, than he owed it to himself to find out. No matter who it was, Harry knew he had to know. He had to hear what Sirius had said about him, and to find out if there was any truth behind the most likely reason for the new-found similarities between himself and Severus Snape.

It had always been there, but never as noticed as it was now.

The longer hair, paler face, and reformed attitude just stood out in ways they hadn't before. Harry wondered if he had never been himself more than he had this year. Voldemort was gone and, against all odds, Harry and Severus remained. Harry was tired of not knowing, and of others dictating how much he was allowed to be informed of. In that moment, as he stood a few corridors away from the Hospital Wing, Harry felt a burning desire course through him. Never in his entire life had to wanted to know something as badly as he did then.

It was time, Harry decided, to find out the truth.

Considering everything that had happened lately, Irma was surprised the castle wasn't in worse shape. The library, once she'd done some heavy dusting and returned the books to their shelves, only required minimal mending.

However, the room she'd tended to for so many years was not where her focus remained at the moment.

Irma stood in her private quarters, staring at an open aged trunk she had resting on a round wooden table. She'd almost forgotten about it. She had long ago stashed it in the back of her wardrobe when she'd first moved to Hogwarts as a staff member. It didn't contain much, but what remained at the bottom was very valuable to her.

Carefully, with fearful motions, Irma lifted out a faded golden frame.

Tapping it with her wand, the dust cleared and the glass sparkled once again. A small smile entwined her expression, as she stared wistfully at the picture within. Magic had preserved it in its frame, but it would forever be brightest in her fondest memories. The picture wasn't anything special to most, as it wasn't done professionally or during a festive occasion. It was simply a random family picture that had been taken by an even more forgettable neighbour.

Irma brushed the surface of the glass with her fingertips, her smile growing wider as she brought the memory to the front of her mind. She traced the faces of the three people pictured, though little Severus hadn't even been two years old at the time. He was seated on her lap, as she sat in a rickety old chair, with Tobias standing a little behind her to stare down at their child. It was sad to think Severus had been about the same age Harry had when he'd lost Lily and James.

Why was it that the happiest of babies linked to the Prince bloodline tended to endure the greatest of hardships?

Irma tried not to dwell on sad moments. She concentrated on the frozen image of what had once been a loving family. Tobias smiled at his son, who stared up at his father with an adoring face filled with laughter. Even she was smiling – the same expression she now cast down on the picture. Irma could almost hear the giggles of her baby boy and chuckle of her husband. It was as though the sound came from an unseeable distance – a place she could never hope to cross over to again.

Irma gasped, and almost dropped the frame, when a sudden sound broke through her peaceful moment. She quickly placed the picture back into the trunk, as though it should only be seen by someone who was able to appreciate its rarity.

'Harry.' She placed a hand over her chest where her heat beat frantically beneath. 'You startled me, child.'

'Sorry.' The teenager said, with little genuine apology. 'I need to borrow your pensieve, if you don't mind.'

Harry remembered catching a glimpse of it a few weeks ago, and was glad the thought had struck him in time. Snape had one too, but Harry didn't want to go near it after what happened last time. The other alternative was Dumbledore, but Harry didn't want to explain why he needed it once again. During the war it had been left unattended for any emergency use - Harry knew Dumbledore had anticipated its need, yet to use it again would make Harry think of the memories Snape had shown him.

Irma's pensieve was the only one he knew of that wouldn't stir additional recollections.

'Of course.' Irma nodded, waving her wand to summon the mentioned object.

She lowered her dark gaze to the vial in his hand, and bit back any questions she had regarding the boy's purpose. She decided, just this once, that she really didn't want to know. Irma decided to let the boy be, as she walked to him and placed a hand on his shoulder before she left the room.

Harry watched her leave, then looked over at the trunk sitting open nearby.

Curiosity grabbed him and he peered within the container, but didn't dare to disturb anything. Catching a glance at the framed picture, Harry felt sadness fill him once again. Much like viewing Snape's memories, Harry wished their similarities weren't so familiar. Yet it was their similarities that brought him to be standing there with another vial of memories clutched carefully in his hand.

Exhaling, Harry stood over the pensieve and experienced a brief bout of nervous hesitation.

Biting his lip, while fidgeting energetically, he inhaled a breath and tipped the vial upside-down. He watched as the memories poured from the vial to blend with the watery substance of the pensieve. Harry gulped, then fixed an expression of determination on his face.

He slowly leaned forward to view what Tonks was finally allowing him to witness.

-- 

Harry recognised the place instantly, but with a heavy heart.

It was Grimmauld place, though he couldn't quite determine when the memory had taken place. Before Sirius had died, at least. Harry felt a leap of both joy and remorse when he saw Sirius sitting at the large narrow table in the kitchen. He looked a bit bored, yet quite stern as well. Harry could not remember seeing his Godfather in such a focused state before.

'Alright there, Padfoot?' Remus asked.

He wandered into the room with Tonks at his side, reminding Harry this was only a portion of what he had hoped to learn. These were her memories, and would surely be limited in ways Remus or Sirius' would not be. Even so, Harry knew he was about to learn something.

'You're early.' Sirius looked up quickly. He was pleased to see them, though the expression in his eyes remained.

For a moment, as he watched his Godfather stand to greet the other pair, Harry forget the subject of what he was viewing. He was mesmerised by seeing Sirius again, and everything else seemed almost irrelevant.

'I'm worried about him, Moony.' Sirius said after a moment. 'Those Muggles...Harry's not happy there, is he?'

'No.' Remus said with a sigh.

'I thought we'd walked into the wrong house when we went to get him, to bring him here.' Tonks shared, shaking her head.

Harry tuned out of the details of the conversation. He didn't want to hear about Privet Drive, not now. He did, however, feel an odd sensation of relief that someone had actually noticed. The situation had been brushed aside so often, he'd been left wondering if he was the only one who could even see how much his so-called “relatives” didn't care for him as they should have.

'What happened to the Potters?' Sirius wondered. 'Or the Evans lot? Surely he has someone else to go to. Someone who isn't on the run.' He narrowed his eyes with shame, and desperation.

'There is no one that we know of.' Remus said sadly.

'I don't like him staying with those ruddy Muggles.' Sirius growled dog-like. 'What if I couldn't be there for him? Harry should be with someone who cares about him.'

'There's nothing we can do about it right now.' Remus frowned. 'If we had another solution, we would take action.'

'What if...What if there is?' Sirius rose slightly in his seat. 'What if he has another relative?'

'Another relative?' Tonks repeated. 'How?'

'What have you heard?' Remus sat higher in his chair as well. 'Sirius?'

'It's probably nothing. I mean, I heard Lily say something once.' Sirius tried to dismiss it, not sure if he was over-thinking things. 'I asked J-James about it once. He said they were trying to have a baby, but Lily had some strange idea about family lines. I don't remember what, but there were a lot of Potions books on the table. More than I'd ever seen.'

Harry, with bated breath, moved closer to hear better, but was startled when the memory abruptly changed.

He briefly heard Sirius, with the volume of someone who'd had too much fire-whiskey, exclaim how the Potters had wanted to have more children after Harry – before Voldemort had snatched their hopes and dreams away. What caught the teenager's attention again was how he was a “special case”, whatever that meant. Sirius said that now Lily had what she wanted, James was happy and far less reluctant to have many more children without any previous doubt or hesitation.

Harry, without understanding what any of it was supposed to mean, decided it didn't like the sound of it either way.

The next memory caused Harry to jump with alarm.

He had no time to take in much more than the sight of Grimmauld place during a later day, when Severus burst into view. The memory wasn't in its entirety, as Severus and Remus were already glaring at each other from either sides of a large room. Harry didn't have time to work out the location of the room, which had a soda, coffee table, some chairs, and a jet black grand piano.

'You're being unrealistic, Severus!' Remus declared in frustration. Tonks stood to his side, looking less certain but equally annoyed.

'Quiet!' Tonks whispered. 'The children will overhear.'

'Let them hear.' Remus remarked. 'It's about time someone does.'

'Black's comments are unreliable at best.' Severus growled with a significant lack of usual baiting and mocking. He ignored the angry protest the pair retaliated with, then continued to speak with strained calmness. 'I refuse to consider something that is clearly a poorly-fabricated lie.'

'Sirius was convinced!' Remus stated. 'He told us what James said the night Harry was born. There were extra measures taken, Severus. Lily wanted to make up for a past regret.'

'I hardly see what any of this has to do with me.' Severus stated, with slipping composure.

The expression on his face was dark and impenetrable, yet in a way Harry hadn't seen before. There was also a sadness in the man's eyes that the teenager remembered witnessing during the memories he'd been left by the man during the war. Harry noticed things about the man's stance and facial features that he would have completely overlooked and misinterpreted a year ago.

'Harry doesn't belong with the Dursleys! They hate magic, and anything to do with it. He'd be better off somewhere else.' Remus added.

'Despite your surely noble attempts to bring about such removal, you're grasping at things that don't exist.' Severus said.

'You were mentioned.' Remus lowered his tone, sending Severus a fierce look. 'There is a chance you were the one she referred to.'

'Black was nothing but a meddlesome liar!' Severus snarled furiously. He moved sharply towards the exit of room, passing by Kreacher seconds before the elf scurried from sight.

'Lily would be disappointed in your hasty dismissal.' Remus said furiously.

Severus flinched at the words, halting by the doorway. He rapidly spun around, and aimed his wand straight at the other man.

Remus and Tonks reacted by drawing their own wands, yet not a single spell was cast.

'Don.'t.' Severus growled in a dangerously low tone. 'You have no right. She could have spoken of anyone. She would not have chosen me.'

'A friendship she broke off in fifth year?' Remus pointed out. 'A regret she had, but could not resolve? Someone in need of a family they'd never had? Someone she knew she could save, if only that person had something to live for? Don't ignore the chance, Severus. If it's not true, let us simply disprove it.'

Harry heard nothing else.

There were random blurs and words - such as a piece of parchment listing information about a “Genitorium Potion”, Sirius sitting at a table to stare at an aged class photograph as though he was searching for something upon the young faces, Remus and Severus with their wands dangerously near each other's necks, a photo of baby Harry being held by James, and the fading blackness of billowing robes.

-- 

With a jerk, he leaned back out of the pensieve and gasped for air as though he had been deprived of it.

With widened emerald eyes, Harry shakily moved to sit in a nearby chair. He exhaled a long breath, and considered everything Tonks had allowed him to see or hear. Separately, it was mostly hopeful speculation, but together it painted a bigger picture. Harry thought it really wasn't very promising, unless one placed certain phrases or hints into context. Sirius had been so sure - Harry had seen it on his face. He didn't know the full extent of what Tonks had ever seen or heard, but Sirius knew there was a very strong possibility. 

Harry had other relatives.

The teenager was confused. Why was Snape so against even setting the facts straight? Did he already suspect, long before Remus tried to force him to consider it?

'Harry?' Irma returned, looking at him cautiously. 'What have you learned?'

'I think it's true.' Harry said, turning quickly to look at her. 'Do you know what a...'

He struggled to remember the glimpse he'd had of a set of potion instructions or information. He didn't know it, but perhaps she did.

'Grandorum Potion? No, Genidium...' He growled, trying to figure it out.

'Genitorium Potion?' Irma whispered with a pale colouring of her face.

'Yes!' Harry stood quickly. 'I recognised the handwriting. My mum-'

'Was brewing it.' Irma finished, looking away. 'I remember. I'm not sure how, but I...I think I helped her.'

'You helped?' Harry frowned furiously. 'You knew about this?'

'I tried to forget.' Irma said, shamefully. 'Lily wanted me to forget. I promised.'

'What is it?' Harry pleaded for details. 'Does it have anything to do with babies or relatives?'

'It...' Irma hesitated, then swallowed, still unable to look at him. 'It is far too complex to explain. It is extremely rare, and almost never used. I haven't even heard of it being used by someone who isn't a pure-blood.'

'What does it do?' Harry pressed, anxious to know.

'Essentially, it will provide a man with an heir. A son.' Irma said softly. 'It is not an uncommon cause, that if administered correctly, the child will inherit his mother's eyes exactly as they are. DNA is required for the potion, but not the conception.'

Harry felt like he'd been hit over the head with a broomstick.

He quickly retrieved the memories from the pensieve, intending to give them back to Tonks, and thanked Irma. The teenager hurried from the room, unable to look back. He needed to think, to focus, and work out what he believed. The teenager's head hurt with the rush of thoughts and new information.

He soon found himself standing outside the Hospital Wing, looking within it from a safe distance away. He saw Severus still in the bed, though he didn't notice Harry staring at his form from quite far away.

In his moment of most confusion, Harry remember something Sirius had told him not even a full day earlier. It was when they'd been in the all-white place of King's Cross Station right after Harry had been hit by the killing curse in the forest...

'It doesn't matter what you look like or who your father is. James loved you, kid...he gave up his life for you and your mother. Isn't that what a father does? Who do you want to be, Harry? That's what matters.'

'I'm just Harry.' The teenager reminded himself quietly, using the same tone he had when Hagrid told him he was a wizard. 'I'm a Gryffindor. I like Quidditch, and Potions. I have my mother's eyes.'

He swallowed and ducked his head. At the sight of the black strands of hair that curtained around his face, Harry forced his eyes slightly shut. He pushed out all the thoughts that made it hard for him to work through the facts, to emerged with a decisive truth.

He felt it.

Harry slowed his breathing, concentrated on a sole thought, and did exactly what Snape had once advised him to do in his moment of greatest doubt: follow his instincts. He could feel it inside his entire being, that he was in fact the son of the same man he had once hated. The man who had been friends with his mother, who had painfully grieved her death, who had protected Harry with everything he had, and who was quite certainly the father of the same boy he'd taught so much to.

'It's true.' Harry opened his eyes, which could almost seem obsidian under certain lighting and looked back towards the black figure in the bed. 'I know it is. I'm his son.'

Confidence in his words began to increase, as Harry considered it, and came to realise it wasn't so bad. A year ago he'd have made puking notions and shuddered at the thought, but now, after everything that had happened, he felt he could accept it with time. Harry had never been so sure of something before, and his instincts told him that now he finally knew the truth.

'I am the heir of Severus Snape.'

Severus, standing beside the bed he'd been resting in for three days, reached across to the night-stand for his ebony wand. He held it, as though he hadn't so many times before, and sighed. His neck felt numb, inside and out, but could not compete with the numbness of his mind.

Having spent an hour battling with Madam Pomfrey, Severus was finally permitted to leave the Hospital Wing. Three days seemed so short, when one considered how much he was recovering from. After being mere inches from death, in three days he was back to his usual self. Except, numbness aside, Severus would never truly be himself again. Too much had changed, and many more alterations lay ahead. They had reached a turning point. Things would become different, to the point that some people may even be unrecognisable. They would be shadows of themselves, yet hopefully they would then strive for the new lives spread out before them.

The anger, rejection, and confusion Severus felt, on the afternoon he'd woken, had all but dissipated. He pulled on his bat-like robes, which he'd formed quite a Hogwarts-wide reputation for wearing, and turned to stride out of the Hospital Wing. He noticed every crack in the corridor outside, as clearly as he could detect splits in Occlumency shields.

'Ah, Severus!' Minerva hurried towards him.

She looked tired, but otherwise maintained a level of contentedness.

'Thank goodness you're okay. Did Poppy release you, or did you sneak out?' She raised an eyebrow at him.

Severus didn't answer.

He merely looked away, tiredness and stress showing on his face. Minerva was sad to notice his defeated posture, and got straight to the point. She'd been heading to visit him, and Severus lingered long enough to hear why.

'I was on my way to inform you that Hogwarts is concluding the term early.' Minerva said. 'The castle is quite in need of repairs, as you know. Most of the remaining students left days earlier. The few still in their dormitories, or what's left of them, will be heading home on the train in an hour.'

'Do you require my assistance?' Severus wondered, once again counting the cracks along the walls.

'No, no.' Minerva dismissively waved her hand . 'You've been through quite enough. Please do take care of yourself, Severus.' She added worriedly.

'Will the school term resume in September?' He asked.

'We're hoping to, yes.' Minerva watched him carefully. 'Why?'

'I wish to return to my post as the Defence Against the Dark Arts Professor.' Severus said with a sigh. 'With several new conditions of employment, of course.'

'Oh.' She was very surprised to hear he wanted to return to teach. 'What sort of conditions?'

'They are matters I will discuss with the Headmaster at a later date.' Severus said gruffly. 'If I may, I shall be leaving now.'

Minerva said something else, likely about his well-being, and thanks for his efforts regarding the war, but Severus heard none of it.

He continued on his venture to the library, where he spotted his mother and the little boy he was there to see.

'So the juice makes the plant mix with the black stuff?' Toby babbled to his grandmother.

The child was oblivious to their unexpected company, but Irma looked up with surprise and almost missed the boy's words.

'Yes. That is correct.' Irma nodded, still watching her son approach. 'Toby, look who's here.'

'Harry?' Toby glanced up.

He looked around wildly, strands of black hair getting in his face, and grinned at the sight of his father.

'Daddy! Look, Nana's teaching me about healing potions.'

'Indeed.' Severus looked down at the boy, who craned his neck to stare up at him with brightly hopeful eyes. Severus had to admit, he was rather proud that his son inherited not only his talent, but also love, for potion-making.

Toby was his son, Severus knew.

Harry, true to his word, had brewed a paternity potion with speed and accuracy no one had thought him to be capable of. Severus, despite his previous objections, even agreed to participate. He offered a few strands of his hair, determined to avoid any form of bloodshed until he could remove the image of a lunging snake from his mind. Harry treated the hairs like strands of gold, then hurried from the room. He returned an hour later with the potion, making sure to show the evidence the moment it happened so Severus had zero chance to deny the facts. Irma was even there to witness the significant event, alongside Toby.

It was then that his entire world came to a halt.

Severus had never felt so out of place and confused. He didn't know what to do now the war was over – he'd lost his sole duties and purpose of survival, and all of a sudden he had an entirely new boy to factor into his life. He had managed to keep the previous one alive, so Severus believed he could manage a second.

The one thing he didn't realise, however, was that Harry did a little paternity testing of his own. Any doubt the teenager had before, about his relation to Snape, was obliterated.

And yet, Harry kept his silence.

'Do you want to read with me?' Toby shyly asked his father.

The boy hadn't been told why he would get a visit from his new dad, but Toby didn't care. Just seeing him standing there was enough to make the child smile.

'Harry should be here for this.' Irma intervened, knowing what was going to happen next. 'After the year he's had, you owe him as much, Severus.'

'Can we go see Harry?' Toby jumped off the seat. 'Oh. Sorry, Nana.' He blushed before she'd said a word.

Irma glanced over and wondered what Toby was embarrassed about, but watched his actions with a smile.

The boy closed his book gently, and placed it carefully on its shelf. Once he was confident it was cared for and safe, Toby hurried back to his father. He blinked, and the first thing that came to mind was how tall his dad was. He hoped to be that big one day, so he wouldn't have to look up so much.

'He's in the Great Hall with the old man.' Toby said, unable to remember the name of the headmaster.

'Dumbledore.' Irma chuckled. 'But, Toby-'

'We can go and get him!' Toby grabbed his startled father's wrist. 'C'mon, Dad! Let's go get Harry.'

Severus growled and intended to yank his wrist back, but caught the stern look on Irma's face.

He felt she was judging him, more than before, after the comment she'd made about him being the son of Tobias Snape. Even freeing his wrist from the over-eager child would make Severus question himself. He longed to be free of her lingering presence, and if locating the Potter brat would speed it along than he supposed he would have to follow the boy to the Great Hall.

-- 

The grand staircase was filled only with the sounds of moving staircases and conversational portraits.

Once they'd left the library, Severus detached the boy from his wrist and made sure Toby didn't run more than two feet ahead of him. It wasn't until they neared the Great Hall that Severus regretted going there. He heard the clicking of shutters, and rumble of persistent voices. He turned the corner, and was greeted with a sight even he had to sympathise with Harry for being thrust amongst.

Any previous mocking or sneers he would have automatically thought of no longer occurred.

Harry Potter, as annoying as he was, had shown he was every bit as brave and true as a Gryffindor was boasted to be. Severus respected him, as the boy had achieved the impossible against Lord Voldemort. Not alone, of course, but Severus recognised Harry's efforts all the same.

Severus quickly waved his wand, casting a spell to stick Toby's shoes to the floor. It prevented the boy from running ahead into the mass of countless reporters filling the space in front of Harry, each wielding a camera or magicked notepad. They took pictures, evidenced by the constant flashes, and shouted eager questions at Harry, who merely stared numbly at the overwhelming attention. The teenager stood near the podium in front of the staff table, and looked as though he was going to be very sick.

Dumbledore was standing beside him, and placed a reassuring hand on the boy's shoulder.

Harry didn't know if he could move.

Facing Voldemort in the forest felt calmer and more controlled than this. The media, which he always wanted to avoid, had never been so overpowering. He gulped, and looked over to see an odd sight at the doorway. Severus Snape stood there, looking tired yet annoyed, while Toby fidgeted in front of the man - trying to unstick his shoes from the floor. Irma joined them, offering Harry a light encouraging nod. His family, for whatever reason, where right there. His family, Harry said again in his mind. He had a family now. A real one. He'd had one before, but this new one wasn't going to vanish. At least, not Irma and Toby.

Snape he was sure would disappear to get away, but Harry knew he'd come back.

Always.

A small smile crossed the teenager's face. He inhaled a breath, and stepped into the limelight.

'Mr Potter, how did you defeat You-Know-Who?' A reporter's voice raised above the others.

They were all spurred on by Harry's clear determination to speak with them, increasing their volume and level of frantic movements. Each were determined to get the exclusive, with the career-changing story of how a teenager had defeated the greatest Dark Lord of all time.

The war was over, but the story was yet to be told.

'Potter, what are your plans now?' A woman added.

'How does it feel to survive You-Know-Who a second time?'

'What do you have to say to the public, about the lives lost and the victory of the war?'

Harry cleared his throat to quieten them, and hoped he wasn't going to fall over from nervousness. He didn't want to do this at all, but Dumbledore insisted that if he didn't face the Wizarding world now than he would never be left in peace. They'd talked about it for a while, and in the end Harry decided to go through with it.

'I know you all think I'm some sort of great hero, and I suppose I kind of am, but Voldemort was defeated because we didn't in to him.' Harry said, having rehearsed some lines with Dumbledore beforehand. 'We worked together, we stayed strong, and that's why we won. If it weren't for my friends, I would not be standing here today. We lost a lot of people. I want every single one of them to be remembered, just like my parents were. None of them deserved to die, but they all died fighting for what they believed in.'

Harry paused, looked towards the doorway, then continued.

'I also want to take this chance to vouch for some people. Some of them made mistakes, even really bad ones, but in the end they helped us win. I can honestly say I'd be dead right now if it weren't for them.' Harry swallowed. 'I want to make sure the Malfoys are given just as much a chance at a new life as we are. To Narcissa for saving my life, Lucius for choosing family over everything else, and to Draco. We were never friends, but Draco Malfoy IS a hero too. I also hope an Order of Merlin First Class is awarded to Professor Severus Snape.'

He glanced over at the surprised, suspicious man.

'Out of respect for his privacy, I won't tell you how he helped me. But I can promise he deserves a lot of credit for the end of this war – a lot more than I do.'

Another clamour of questions occurred.

Harry squirmed, unsure what to do next, until he felt Dumbledore's hand rest on his shoulder again.

'There's hundreds of people I want to thank, but right now I just want to finally live my life. If you want to hear about heroes and details, you'll have to ask the true saviour among us.' He sighed, peering over his shoulder. 'Albus Dumbledore.'

'Headmaster Dumbledore, what are your plans for the school?' A report hastily changed target, which the others copied when the headmaster stepped forward.

This was how Dumbledore and Harry had planned it.

When it became too much for Harry, or he was finished talking for whatever reason, he should divert all the attention to Dumbledore and the wizard would take over. It worked. Harry stepped down, and was glad no one pestered him further. He hurried towards the waiting group, and looked oddly at Snape. Neither speaking, Harry lowered his emerald gaze to chuckle at his brother's antics. His younger brother, Harry reminded himself, who was indeed his actual sibling.

'My feet are stuck!' Toby whined to Harry.

He saw the expression on the teenager's face, and quickly figured out who was responsible. The boy crossed his arms over his chest, and leaned backwards to stare at the black-clad man.

'Dad!' The six-year-old grumbled.

Rolling her eyes, Irma removed the spell, and offered Harry an encouraging nod.

'That was quite a speech.'

'I hate speeches. I just want them to leave me alone.' Harry frowned. 'What are you all doing here?'

'We came to get you.' Toby remembered, hurrying forward. 'Nana said you had to be there.'

'Where?' Harry wondered, looking from one adult to the next. 'What's going on?'

'This is hardly the place for a discussion.' Severus said. Though he was better at hiding it, Severus was fighting his urge to flee the media just as much as Harry was.

Irma gestured for them to follow her down to the dungeons, where they stepped inside Severus' office.

The man narrowed his eyes, detecting something was out of place, but dismissed it for now. Harry, however, felt very calm to be here after the view visits he'd made to the room in the past few days. It was strange to think a room he had once been scolded in, and dreaded, could now bring him such peace.

'In a few moments, each of you shall return to the Gryffindor Tower to retrieve your belongings.' Severus told them.

Each boy stared at him, their faces shining with hope, so he quickly continued before they got the wrong idea.

'Toby, we will be departing at once.' Severus added. 'Potter, you'll be heading home on the train in an hour.'

'Dumbledore assured me you only have to stay with your relatives until you're of age.' Irma added to Harry, who looked downright miserable.

There was a quiet moment. Harry swallowed in his intense disappointment and sadness, while Toby slowly worked out what his father's words meant and exactly what was going to happen. Without much warning, the boy with a quietly cautious nature did something rather startling.

'No!' Toby ran to Harry's side and grabbed fistfuls of his brother's robes. 'I'm going with Harry! Or he's coming with us!'

'Toby.' Irma sighed.

Severus pinched the bridge of his nose, and Harry stood ridged in uncertainty of how to react. 'You'll see Harry again.'

'NO!' Toby yelled with alarming volume. 'He's my brother. I'm not leaving without him!' He buried his face against the teenager's side.

His fear of being separated from Harry flooded his eyes with tears, which dampened the material of the teenager's robes. Harry had saved him, had been his family, and helped him grow that family. He'd looked after him, protected him, taught him new things, played with him, and overall made Toby happier than he'd ever been. The idea of being taken away from Harry, even for anything in the whole world, was something Toby absolutely would not stand for.

'You have to.' Harry said, struggling against his own emotions.

He wanted to hold the little boy close, and never let him go, but kids belonged with family. The Gryffindor knew he hadn't done the best job of looking after Toby in the past year, but he had tried his very best. He wasn't a parent, though. Looking over at Snape, who was staring angrily at the ceiling, Harry knew he had to do what was right by Toby. It was what he'd been doing all year, but never had it been so important until now.

He also didn't want to take anything away from the child. Toby was almost seven, whereas Harry was nearly seventeen. Toby had a chance at a real childhood, and Harry wasn't going to intrude on that no matter how justified he felt it was for himself to be included. He was the son of Severus Snape too, but selfishness was never a trait that stuck strong to Harry, regardless of the situation.

'No!' Toby snapped again. Tears trailed down his cheeks, as he pulled back to pleadingly stare upwards at his brother. 'Please don't make me leave, Harry! I love you. You're my brother – please!' He sobbed against the boy's robes once again.

'Enough!' Severus barked.

He squashed his own guilt, while being unnerved by the amount of attachment his son had for Potter.

Severus strode forward, and snatched the boy around the middle. With Harry's remorseful assistance, the boy's fingers were carefully uncurled from the teenager's robes. Toby wailed and struggled, bringing tears to Harry's own eyes. He roughly brushed them aside, and turned to stand beside Irma. She placed a hand on his shoulder, patting it in sympathy.

'Cease this behaviour at once!' Severus snapped at the child, who stilled enough for Severus to put him back down. He grabbed the boy's hand to prevent his escape, and spelled his shoes to the floor again.

'I'll get his things.' Harry said in a dull tone, unable to look at anyone.

He didn't noticed anything else, as he turned and left the office. Harry didn't see Irma's downcast look, or the way Severus watched the teenager with a penetrating gaze.

-- 

Harry walked out of the dungeons and headed to the grand staircase, which would take him to the Gryffindor Tower. It was a path he'd ventured multiple times in the past six years, but never had he done so with such misery and guilt. Toby was distraught, and felt betrayed, but Harry knew he had to do what was right for his little brother. No matter how much hurt. He took each step at a time, his emerald gaze trailing over the space in front of him as he walked, until the reached the common room.

He stepped inside, barely remembering the password, and gasped.

'Harry!' Hermione rushed over in a blur of movement. 'Thank goodness! Are you alright?'

'We've been looking everywhere for you, mate.' Ron added.

'The train's leaving soon.' Hermione said. 'You need to pack!'

'I'm going to now.' Harry sulked, walking slowly to the stairs. He paused, then looked back, and slumped his shoulders. 'Toby's leaving with Snape.'

'Snape?' Ron frowned. 'Why?'

Harry stared at his friends confused faces, and felt another stab of guilt course through him.

They didn't even know.

He'd frequently avoided them in the past months, constantly put it off, and finally, even as the war came to an end ,he hadn't been able to tell them. They didn't know he was Snape's son, nor that Toby was as well. They had no idea about Irma, about Harry's newly found family, nor anything that had profoundly impacted their best friend during most of their sixth year.

'I'll explain later.' Harry promised. He owed them that much, though he doubted he could find the words as soon as he'd implied. 'I need to pack.'

Harry retreated to the dormitory.

He looked around the room, surprised by how considerably undamaged it was. He noticed the cracks along the walls, counting them while wondering how long it would take for magic to restore the castle to its former glory. Harry never imagined the day would come when he wouldn't eagerly await the chance to return to Hogwarts. Too much had happened. Too many had died. Far too many memories filled every corridor, room, and crack in between.

Harry went about gathering his belongings, carelessly tossing them into his trunk, and filled a bag Hermione had bought the Toby not long ago. He was surprised to notice the six-year-old had as much stuff as he did, minus the textbooks and robes.

Harry's hand brushed over the invisibility cloak, remembering when he'd smuggled Toby onto the train, and into the castle, with it. The times he had seen the child vanish underneath it seemed so countless, and then that same item had helped Draco hide from Death Eaters in his act of redemption. The cloak had once belonged to James Potter, which stirred another round of thoughts for Harry.

When every quill, sock, and potion vial had been located, Harry moved to sit on the edge of his bed.

In a few days, many things had ended. Lives were lost, the curse on the Defence Against the Dark Arts position was broken, the war had been concluded, the Hogwarts term was finished, and his unofficial guardianship of Toby came to an emotional halt. Harry wasn't sure he'd ever envisioned what would happen with them once the school term ended, with all his efforts to keep their secret for that long, but he felt terrible nevertheless.

'Harry?' Hermione appeared at the doorway. 'Madam Pince is asking for you. What's going on?'

Harry couldn't answer her.

He felt awful. He wanted to cry, scream, kick, and beg, but he did none of those things. The teenager reluctantly rose from the bed. He gathered his trunk, Toby's sack, and Hedwig's empty cage. Dragging them to the common room, he was joined by his friends; the train would be leaving soon.

He walked ahead of the others, who decided to continue giving him space for now. Harry followed Irma, who took Toby's sack from him, as she led the way outside. Harry must have passed many recognisable faces, but he saw none of them. The ground and his own feet were all he could focus on during the entire journey across the rubble-covered grounds and through the singed gates.

He halted abruptly when Irma did the same. Looking up, Harry felt another stab of emotion pierce through him.

Severus stood irritably nearby, with Toby's hand clutched firmly in his own. The child looked even more miserable than Harry felt. Glad his friends had hung back, Harry approached them. He knelt in front of his brother and placed a hand on Toby's shoulder, as many had done for him that day. The six-year-old angrily shrugged it off, and refused to look at Harry. Sighing, the teenager backed away, and watched as Irma handed the sack to Severus. It was shrunk and pocketed. Severus looked down at the sulking boy, whose face was smeared with tear trails.

The man glanced once more at Harry, then bent to pick up the child.

As Harry watched Severus lift the upset boy into his arms, he felt both jealously and relief mix through him. Toby wrapped his small arms around the man's neck, and for a moment everything look natural. Harry easily saw a father and son - disregarding the scowling look on Snape's face, of course.

In a blink, they were gone.

'That was a very brave thing you just did, Harry.' Irma finally spoke, as Harry's friends caught up with him.

Hermione and Ron, who hadn't gone home with his family in loyalty to staying with Harry, stood awkwardly by the sidelines. They had never felt so out of touch with their best friend's life, and hoped he would come back to them so they could be the famous trio they had once been.

'What do you mean?' Harry looked at his grandmother.

'The potion was ready when you got the final ingredient.' Irma recalled, mindful of nearby ears. 'You were gone for almost an hour. You took a sample for yourself first, didn't you?'

'Yes.' Harry sighed, thinking he'd been more discreet than he had. 'The results were the same.'

'I suspected as much.' Irma nodded.

She placed a hand on his shoulder with more warmth than she had before.

'Harry, you have to go back to Privet Drive now. But don't forget that it will be for the very last time. You have family. You have people who love you. I, for one, am not going to make the same mistakes I did before.'

'What do you mean?' Harry looked at her, confused.

'My son needed me, and I wasn't there for him.' Irma said. 'My grandson has tough times ahead of him now - I am going to be there to support and help him the entire way.'

She leaned forward and kissed his forehead. Irma placed her hand to his cheek and smiled, then nodded towards the path leading to Hogsmeade Station.

'Go along, Harry.' Irma insisted. 'We'll meet again soon.'

Harry had leaned to her affection when she'd kissed him, feeling a warmth spread through him from the loving familial contact of his grandmother. He closed his eyes and cherished the moment, then nodded and moved to walk away.

Halting, he turned back to her and inhaled a breath.

'I want to change my name.' He revealed. 'Harry James Prince. How can I do that?'

'I'll look into it.' Irma nodded with a proud smile. 'Now go on or you'll miss your train.'

'Thanks.' Harry smiled. 'Bye!' He waved. Harry clutched his trunk and cage, quickly turning to catch up with his friends.

'Is that what you were talking about, when you said there were things you weren't ready to tell us?' Hermione couldn't wait to ask, as they loaded their luggage onto the train.

'Some of it.' Harry nodded. 'I promise I'll tell you everything, but right now I just need to deal with it all.'

'We're here to listen, whenever you're ready.' Ron said.

'Thanks.' Harry nodded. 'I really appreciate it. I know I've been acting weird lately, but so much happened at once and I don't how I feel about it yet.'

He looked up when he heard a screech, glad to see Hedwig soar towards him. He raised his arm and let her perch on his shoulder. She remained there while he boarded the train, then hopped onto the seat beside him. While Hedwig preened bent and slightly singed feathers, Harry sat by the window to stare at the moving scenery outside. Ginny and Neville soon joined them, alongside Luna, and by then Harry had begun to explain that Toby was Snape's son.

'How did you know?' Hermione gasped.

'He did look a bit weird, like Snape.' Ron frowned. 'But so do you, come to think of it.'

'Thanks, Ron.' Harry rolled his eyes, knowing Ron still thought Snape looked like a greasy git even if what he'd witnessed during the war proved otherwise about the factual side of the statement.

'I'm here for you, mate.' Ron repeated, with a teasing smile.

'Can you believe it's really over?' Ginny said quietly, after a moment of awkward silence beought on by Harry repelling questions regarding how he'd known the truth about Toby and any involvement their librarian had in the situation.

'School. Our childhood. The war.' She sighed, staring through the window. 'It all happened so suddenly.'

'Most things ends eventually. That's how they start over again.' Luna said. 'If nothing finishes, nothing new can begin. I think a lot of things have changed, more than ended. It gives us a chance to watch new things form together, in ways they couldn't be before.'

'When a plant dies, a new one takes its place.' Neville added with a shrug, trying to simplify what Luna had said. 'Voldemort's dead, but we haven't heard the end of the war yet. There are still Death Eaters out there, and we're still grieving.'

'I can't believe in a few months the school term starts again.' Ron shook his head. 'After everything that happened there.'

'I'll be going back, of course.' Hermione shared. 'I want to finish my seventh year. I think it's very important for us to finish our education, even with everything that's happened.'

'I agree.' Luna nodded. 'I still have many new things to learn from Hogwarts. And the classes, of course.'

'I'll be going back too.' Ginny said. 'I don't know why, but I think it's the right thing to do.'

'Count me out.' Ron complained, which was instantly argued by Hermione. 'What about you Neville? Harry?'

'I don't know.' Neville admitted. 'I think so. I want to pass my NEWTS so I can become an auror. Someone has to stop the rest of the Death Eaters, and those like them.'

All eyes fell to Harry.

He shrugged, and turned to stare through the glass panes of his window again. His thoughts were far away from Hogwarts or the war. Instead, he pictured a six-year-old face smiling up at him with adoration and trust, which then formed into one of hurt and betrayal. He could still hear his brother's cries and pleas, even while Harry knew Toby would be better with their father than at Privet Drive, or anywhere else. He just hoped Severus would take very good care of the boy. He was sure he could, with the capacity to love that Harry had seen in the man's memories.

He had returned the vial of memories to both Tonks and Snape, and was now left entirely with his own.

'I don't get why you have to go back to those bloody Muggles.' Ron grumbled. 'It's not fair!'

'I know why.' Harry said quietly. 'Dumbledore explained it to me yesterday.'

'What did he say?' Hermione prompted.

'That sometimes to know where we're going, we have to look back at where we've been.' Harry said.

He continued to stare at the green landscape outside his compartment window, directly to his left.

'I don't know what to do now. My whole life was about winning the war, and now...I don't know. I hate it there, and I don't ever want to see them again, but Dumbledore is right. I need to go back.' He frowned.

'Well, promise you'll write every day.' Hermione insisted.

'And let us know if we need to come rescue you.' Ron added. He'd said it as a joke, though there was a serious undertone to it.

'Of course.' Harry chuckled.

'And don't forget about the wedding.' Ginny added. 'Remus and Tonks put it off because of the war. You're still their best man, right?'

'Yeah.' Harry smiled. A tiny ray of hope sparked in his mind, and was briefly ashamed for having forgotten about the wedding.

'It's in August.' Hermione added.

Harry nodded, shifting his focus to look at his reflection against the mirror instead of the world beyond the glass. He noticed his black strands of hair, so similar to his father, and the emerald eyes from his mother. He didn't know what it meant to be a Potter, as he'd never really known them. Even now, he didn't know what it meant to be a Snape either. That's why he wanted to change his name to Prince, after his grandmother's family line.

He'd done a bit of research, since finding out the undeniable truth, and Harry rather liked the sound of the bloodline. They were exceptionally well known for their potions skills too, which Harry was pleased to read. He found he had a lot of things in common with his new-found family, and it was something he'd never really had before.

Not since he'd looking into the mirror of erised in his first year.

Harry knew Toby had a lot in common with the bloodline as well. He hoped his little brother would forgive him one day for not trying harder to stay with him. He hoped the boy was okay, and that they would see each again soon. He had no idea what Snape planned to do now, though Harry didn't have the mental energy to worry about more than he already had to think about. His entire future was optionally set out before him, and the teenager had no sense of direction or ambition towards it.

He wondered, very briefly, if Draco felt the same way.

When the Hogwarts Express slowed at King's Cross Station, Harry was already on his feet and preparing to leave the train.

He placed a reluctant Hedwig into her cage, then grabbed hold of it and his trunk. Stepping down onto the platform, Harry was reminded of the day he'd hid Toby under his cloak; it looked just as vacant. There weren't many there to greet them, and even less exited the train. He wanted to believe it was because most students had already gone home after the war, rather than think sadly on the ones who would never go home again.

'Promise you'll write?' Hermione repeated while giving him a big hug.

'I promise.' Harry nodded.

'I'll talk to Mum, see if you can come stay with us for your Birthday.' Ron said with determination.

'Thanks.' Harry said, giving him a hug as well.

He shyly embraced Ginny, then hugged Luna, and even Neville. He felt so thankful for his friends, and was tremendously relieved they had all survived the terrible war that cost the lives of so many others.

'I don't think you need to worry too much, Harry.' Luna told him moments before they all parted. 'I've always said that those things we lose have a way of coming back to us in the end. But, of course, some of them never really leave at all – we just think they do. Have a happy summer, Harry.'

'Er, thanks, Luna.' He said. 'Bye - I mean, you too.'

Harry stood there and waved, watching Luna and her father reunite. He saw Neville's grandmother giving him a big hug, and Hermione receiving the save from her parents. And who could miss the crowd of red-headed Weasleys? Sighing, with no one to greet him with such warmth and relief, Harry turned to depart through the magical barrier, and wandered along the Muggle station.

Stepping outside, Harry looked towards the sky in fond memory of riding a flying car to Hogwarts.

Instead, he would be sitting uncomfortably in the back seat of a car that would never leave the gravel road it drove along. Even if it could have flown, Harry was sure the weight of his uncle and cousin would be enough to keep it grounded, regardless.

'Hello.' Harry said uncomfortably when he spotted his relatives standing nearby.

'Back again, are you?' Vernon grunted. 'Thought we'd seen the last of you.'

'People are staring.' Petunia hissed, trying to urge them along.

She looked nervously around the area. Many people gazed at Harry with amazement, though the teenager tried to ignore them, and ducked his head. He wished black strands of hair were long enough to better conceal his face – though it had grown on the train ride with his desire to be hidden from everything around him.

Petunia paused at the sight of Harry, as though seeing her nephew for the first time, and raised an eyebrow suspiciously.

The teenager miserably placed his trunk into the boot of the car. He moved to squeeze into the back seat with Hedwig's cage resting on his lap. She gave a screech of discomfort, which he shared, but both were used to the summer journey back to the place they considered their prison.

'I heard you beat Moldy-whatsit.' Dudley spoke for the first time since Harry returned to London. 'I heard some funny folk talking about it.'

'Yeah.' Harry nodded. 'I had help, though.' He was surprised by his cousin, who usually sneered and shoved him more than anything.

'About ruddy time.' Vernon said from the front seat.

'What do you know about it?' Harry frowned dubiously.

'Not much.' Dudley shrugged his large shoulders.

'Your headmaster wrote to us.' Petunia shared timidly. 'So it's true, it's over?'

'Yes.' Harry looked out the window, wishing it was as clear and interesting as the one on the train. 'As much as a war can be. Lots of people died – kids younger than me. It was a bloody mess.'

To their credit, the Dursleys didn't say else, even when they arrived at Privet Drive.

Harry got out and gathered his trunk, expecting to have it snatched from him like every summer. Vernon looked ready to do so, but stopped, and turned to storm into the house. Harry didn't like how things were going – his relatives were acting a bit out of sort to him, as though he wasn't the only one who had gone through some personal changes over the last year.

'Wait.'

Harry paused at the doorway, where only he and his aunt remained. Dudley hurried towards the television, and Vernon went to the kitchen. The teenager glanced at Petunia, but she avoided looking at him.

'He's dead? The one who...'

Harry, rather guiltily, suddenly realised what she was really asking him.

In all the years he'd grown up there, under the uncaring relatives who seemed to hate him at every turn, he'd forgotten something so easily overlooked. He'd lost more than just a mother and a father, so many years ago - his aunt had lost a sister. Through Snape's memories, he knew the two sisters had once been close, but Lily's magic is what separated them. Surely there had been at least one moment when Petunia had been saddened by Lily's death as well?

Harry liked to think so.

'Yes.' Harry nodded firmly. 'I lived because she refused to stand aside, and Voldemort killed her. He's gone now. I stopped him; he can't ever hurt someone again.'

'Good.' Petunia nodded, then sighed. 'Well, get in!' She snapped. 'No use in standing around when there's dishes to wash.'

'Yes, Aunt Petunia.' Harry huffed.

They hadn't taken his trunk yet, Harry noticed as he entered the house. He hurriedly made for the stairs in hope of keeping it with him during the summer.

He stashed his most important items in the hidden floorboards of his room, just in case. When he unloaded clothes and books, Harry felt something lightweight slip onto the floor. He peered over at it and stared, shocked he had completely forgotten its existence until then. Harry didn't have time to treasure it, as he heard Vernon's heavy footsteps ascending the stairs. He snatched the item and quickly hid it away.

Harry slammed his trunk shut, and jumped back when his uncle burst into the room.

'Can't have you doing any freakiness in this house.' Vernon growled, grabbed the handle of the trunk. 'You may have been through a war, boy, but here we won't tolerate any of your lot's nonsense.'

'Yes, Uncle Vernon.' Harry repeated dutifully.

'Your aunt told you to clean the dishes!' Vernon reminded him as he left the room.

Harry, irritated that he had to stay at Privet Drive when he had a real family elsewhere, kicked at his bedpost. Grumbling, he made his way downstairs, and spent an hour doing chores.

Mostly, he was blissfully ignored by the Dursleys.

-- 

Harry retreated to his poor excuse of a bedroom, and sank against the feeble mattress. He listened to his relatives moving around downstairs, knowing they were preparing to watch a movie on the television. They'd be busy for several hours, so Harry was almost guaranteed to be left alone during that time.

He held the special piece of parchment in his hands, and wondered if he could dare to use it again.

He'd had it since Christmas, and Harry continued to treasure it for the gift he convinced himself it was. He longed for some contact with his father, which Toby now had an unlimited supply of. Harry used the back of his Charms textbook, which sat on his lap, as a makeshift table. He reached for a spare bottle of blue ink, and one of his well-used quills. The teenager poised the quill over the parchment for a while, considering what to say.

He decided to reclaim what he'd once shared with the man, with hardly any consider for any previous caution he'd exhibited. 

Are you okay, Sir?' 

It wasn't the best thing he could think of, but Harry had never received a solid answer to the question. He'd asked it many times, mostly when Snape was still in the Hospital Wing, but the man had refused to offer him any reassurance.

Maybe if he wouldn't tell Harry Potter, he might answer S.J.E?

Harry was worried about the man. Knowing Snape was his father only caused Harry to feel further concerned for his once-hated Professor's well-being. A part of him wondered how he had ever hated Snape at all, especially after witnessing the memories the man had stretched his dying breath to show him. 

Yes. 

Are you coping? 

A rush of relief flooded Harry, knowing his father was indeed okay and was seemingly recovering well.

Retracing the words with his emerald gaze, Harry could only stare at the reply for several minutes. He re-read it to make sure he wasn't seeing things. Any initial surprise soon faded when he once again recalled images of nine-year-old Severus and Lily lying on the grass together. Harry remembered Snape's face during her sorting, and the way the man had cried when he'd seen her fallen form in Godric's Hollow.

A year ago, Harry, like so many others, would have said Snape was the man least capable of love. Now, he felt ashamed for ever thinking something so horribly untrue. Underlining the sadness and understanding, Harry felt his respect for his father increase. The emerging pride Harry felt, for being the son of such a brave man, began to blossom. 

I don't know. I'm sad and angry, but most of all I'm confused. I don't know what to do now. 

What are you going to do, Sir? 

Harry stared, waiting for a reply, and felt nervous when none came.

Maybe Snape didn't know what the future held for him either? 

We do not have to decide right now. 

Of everything the war has taken from us, there is one thing it has given back: time itself. We have time to decide, and time to ease the sadness, anger, and confusion. In time, you'll know precisely where you want to go and how to get there. 

Harry read each word carefully.

He felt a strange weight lift from his mind, realising his father was right. He hugged the parchment to his chest, thinking about how relieved he was to have it. Laying back on his bed, Harry sighed as a wave of tiredness washed over him. He hadn't gotten a lot of sleep lately. When he did close his eyes, Harry kept seeing bodies or flashes of lights.

Yawning, the teenager hid his parchment within the floorboards once again. He removed his glasses, and rolled onto his side to face his bedroom wall.

Though he warily closed his eyes, Harry had a rather restful sleep that night.

--

'Up!' The voice of his aunt was accompanied by rude rapping against his door. 'Get up!'

Harry sat upright in his bed, and glanced around the sunlit space of his small room. It felt strange to be back at Privet Drive, as Harry swung his legs over the edge of his bed and yawned.

The war was almost like a long dream – it had come and gone.

Harry changed into some of Dudley's cast-office, which he really hated wearing, and wandered across the hall to the bathroom. Yawning again, without any certainty of what time it was, Harry quickly showered and brushed his teeth. He'd been careful with the hot water, having used only enough to not freeze, though the mirror fogged up regardless.

Intending to brush his hair, which was more manageable than it had ever been in his life, Harry wiped the fog away with his palm. He offered his reflection a small smile, rather liking his appearance. It wasn't too different, but his black hair reaching about his ears, and paler face, had given him a new perspective of himself.

He leaned a bit closer when he noticed his emerald eyes were brighter than ever, and soon realised why. Narrowing his eyes, Harry reached to gently touch his face. His rounded glasses had been left on his bedside table, and until now Harry hadn't even noticed.

The teenager closed his eyes, and reopened them. He saw clearer than he ever had, though distant shapes still blurred if he focused for too long.

'Harry Potter!' Vernon's voice boomed up the stairs.

'Coming, Uncle Vernon!' Harry called back, having been startled by the sound he should have expected.

He hurried back to his room to retrieve his glasses, and slipped them over his nose. Harry dashed along the hallway, and almost tripped on the top step of the stairs in his rush. He took two steps at a time, wondering what he had supposedly done this time, and skidded to a halt at the bottom.

'What?' Harry asked.

His uncle stood by the open door of the house, looking considerably more sour than usual while staring at Harry, but didn't answer. The teenager creased his expression with confusion, and moved sideways to see why the door was open. He was startled to realise he had a visitor.

'Hello, Harry.' Irma offered him a smile, though even Vernon could tell it was forced.

She glanced at the beefy man, then looked around the pair to spot Petunia peering rudely at them from the kitchen.

'What are you doing here?' Harry's heart skipped faster.

He hadn't expected to see a member of his real family so soon, and it caused a flutter of happiness to dance through his stomach.

'Did you find out about changing my name?'

'Yes.' Irma nodded. 'And I was wondering if you'd like to join me for lunch in London, so we can discuss it?'

'Yeah, I-' Harry stopped.

His fluttering joy dissipated slightly, as he turned to look nervously at Vernon. The Dursleys were surely allergic to give Harry anything he wanted, which could make him even slightly happy, yet the teenager was determined to try.

'May I go, please?'

'Better there than here.' Vernon grunted with blunt annoyance.

Harry felt he shouldn't be too surprise, as his relatives were always keen to have him out of sight and to be someone else's “problem” for a while.

Even so, he couldn't believe his incredible luck when his uncle granted him permission.

'Thanks!' Harry threw over his shoulder as he left the house.

He gave his grandmother a proper greeting, by wrapping his arms around her for a quick hug.

His action startled her, though she draped an arm around the boy's shoulders and nudged him towards the end of the street. She briefly recalled the look on her son's face, at the age of eight, when they'd left the neighbourhood for a rare treat of spending an afternoon in a park for a small picnic.

'Where are we going?' Harry wanted to know.

'There's a little tea shop not far from here.' Irma said. She took a moment to disapprove of his clothes, though pressed her lips into a thin line and didn't comment. 'I hope it's still there. Your mother and I used to go there sometimes. I think you'll like it.'

'How did you know where I lived?' Harry wondered when they reached a bus stop.

He was surprised she wanted to travel the Muggle way, but supposed she was still very familiar with the non-magical world.

'Dumbledore, of course.' Irma said, leading the way onto a red double-decker bus.

She paid for their tickets, and gestured for them to sit at the very back of the upper deck. Harry, in memory that she'd once not had a lot of money, wanted to buy his own ticket. He didn't have any Muggle money with him, however, and doubted a golden Galleon would be much help in the Muggle world.

He sat by the window to watch the cars and people pass by.

It wasn't a long journey, but Harry relished it because each turn of the tyres took him further away from the Dursleys. He hadn't been back at Privet Drive for even a full day, and still he longed for the freedom a simple lunch in London could provide him. He glanced at his grandmother, and thought she looked rather peaceful as well. 

They didn't speak much, until they stepped inside the tea shop.

Harry listened carefully to what Irma was telling him about how some days she and Lily had tea together, though infrequently. He could tell his grandmother still thought fondly of those short visits even after all the years that passed. He tried not to hold the tea shop's pink and flowery appearance against it, knowing his mother had liked it too.

If only for her, Harry thought it looked okay.

Harry and Irma sat at a booth near a large window. It wasn't until the teenager had eaten both of his ham sandwiches that Irma finally got down to business.

'Now, your name.' She said. 'I don't anticipate there to be any trouble getting it Legalised with the Ministry, given your status as the war hero Boy-Who-Lived.'

Irma sipped some tea before she continued, while Harry was glad his status was finally helping him rather than drowning him in attention he doesn't want.

'However,' Irma frowned. 'There is a matter of the name itself.'

'I think it's alright.' Harry said defensively, assuming she was making a comment on it being a bad name. 'I can honour both my dads, and belong to a whole bloodline of family. I get to keep my initials too.'

'Yes, it's a perfectly strong name.' Irma nodded, waving off his concerns. 'I suspected you wouldn't know, that's why I brought you here to explain. If you wanted your surname to be Evans or Snape, there would be no need for us to have this conversation. Prince, however - that is a pure bloodline. You have every right to claim the name for yourself, as you are rightfully one of us. But, before you do, I think there's something you need to see.'

'What is it?' Harry looked around, expecting the tea shop to be even more important than he's originally realised.

'Not here.' Irma rolled her eyes. 'Are you finished?'

'Yes.' Harry stood quickly. 'Where is it? What do you want to show me?'

Irma didn't answer right away.

She paid for their meal, and led the teenager back outside onto the relatively busy street filled with Muggles going about their usual business. Irma likely looked a bit odd in her old-fashioned, dark attire, though it lacked any obvious robes or a cloak. She offered the crowd no attention, only glancing at Harry for a moment in surprise towards his sudden eagerness. She tried not to analyse it too much, as he had to go back to Privet Drive regardless, and directed him to an alley several blocks away.

This time, she did apparate them to their next destination. 

Irma waited patiently, as Harry took a moment to ease his stomach from the magical transportation he despised.

'Whoa.' Harry stared at the wrought iron gates towering over him, once he'd straightened and taken in its appearance.

He saw the word “Prince” formed into the top center of the bannered frame above the gates. He stepped closer and held the vertical, metal bars with each hand. He looked through them at the massive space of lush green grass, which led to a large house. It wasn't enormous, yet was easily big enough to have the entire Dursley's house as a single room.

'This is the smallest property owned by the Prince family.' Irma shared, amused by his reaction. Looking away from her grandson, her face turned serious as she too took in the sight of the house through the bars. The gate was the only place they could use to see within, as the entire property was bordered by a solid stone wall.

To Harry, it was fresh and wondrous. To Irma, it was darkened like the memories it cast through her.

'This is the smallest one?' Harry uttered with disbelief.

'Yes. There are also several manors and larger estates.' Irma sighed. 'This house was left to me, but I was unable to obtain it. I was forsaken from the family tree when I married Tobias Snape. Severus tried to claim it when he turned of age, but he too was rejected. I believe it was because of the Dark Mark. The Prince family, as blood fanatic as they were, did not endorse the widespread suffering of others.'

'Could I claim it?' Harry wondered curiously. 'I don't really want it. I mean, it's nice and all, but it's so big! Could I, though, if I wanted to? And if no one minded.'

'I don't know.' Irma whispered, looking away. 'It's promising that you can even touch the gate. It first officially belonged to my great-aunt. When she passed, I believe one of my cousins claimed it until a few years ago. He was quite the Quidditch fan, so I imagine he had some sort of sports field added to it.' Irma said.

Harry gripped the bars tighter, hoisting himself higher on his toes to try and seen if there was a Quidditch field on the grounds, but his view was far too limited and most of the sight was taken up by the front lawn and house.

Irma, however, was very wary of being near the gates – she even tucked her hands behind her back as an added precaution.

'I brought you here because I wanted to you at least see it.' Irma explained. 'Taking on the Prince name will magically, and officially, place you on our family tree. This is something that may not go unnoticed by others – those of pureblood standing who have access to such information. Your name will automatically grant you recognition in the Potioneering field - the Prince bloodline is worldly recognised for their talents. It can be quite a responsibility for someone your age.'

Harry considered her words, while still staring at the pale-coloured stone house.

He wished he could have a look around, to explore a place filled with his own family history. He'd never even see his former home at Godric's Hollow, or the place near Spinner's End. This was the closest he'd come to a place where he could learn about his ancestors. His family. Harry understood what Irma was warning him of, since he hadn't liked being so famous just because of his name or scar, but being a Prince felt like a huge honour. Surviving a curse when he was just an infant, which had cost the lives of his parents, had only ever been a curse to him. Being a member of an incredible magical bloodline was an entirely different concept – it was a blessing.

Harry only hoped he could live up to it.

'I still want to change my name.' Harry said confidently. 'I am a Prince. I want people to know that. I want to honour it.'

Irma smiled at his words. She nodded, not feeling the need to say anything, and glanced at the time. A frown covered her face, and she sighed.

'I should get you back.' Irma told him sadly. 'I wish I didn't have to. Those Dursleys clearly aren't as doting as others implied. I would take you in for the summer, but I have absolutely nowhere we could stay.'

'They don't like me much at all.' Harry felt dread replace his enlightenment. He slipped his hands from the metal bars, and stepped away from the gate. 'Can we come back here again? I would like to see it some more.'

'One day.' Irma said with an air of uncertain promise. She placed a hand on his shoulder, using her grip to steer the reluctant teenager away from the property's tall gates. 'I hope to show it to Toby as well.'

'How is he?' Harry quickly asked.

They walked onto the vacant road, and all thoughts of the Prince House faded from Harry's mind.

'Where are they?'

'I don't-' Irma's words were cut off by a sudden gust of wind.

They both felt the sensation of magic, and turned around backwards to detect the cause.

The black iron gates were joined in the center by a silver lock, which suddenly glowed a very bright blue. The light spread, like veins across the entire gate, and turned the gate itself a silvery tone. With an explosive SNAP sound, the lock crumbled. With a shuddering creak, the gates gradually swung open. They came to a halt, replacing the sense of guarded privacy with an inviting entrance.

The pair stared motionless at the scene. Irma swallowed, and looked over at Harry with wide eyes.

'What happened?' The teenager wondered nervously.

'The house recognised you as the heir.' Irma said, disbelieving.

'I've claimed the house?' Harry blinked. 'But, I didn't realise. I didn't...'

'No, not claimed it.' Irma shook her head. 'However, you're invited within. After all these years, it's open to residence again. You truly are a Prince.'

'So...' Harry slowly, hesitantly, looked to his grandmother. 'Now we have somewhere to stay for the summer?'

Many things had ended in the past four days, but now Harry could look to the Prince house with hope for a new beginning. Luna was right; Harry thought he'd lost his family, but the house had been there all along...Waiting.

Irma did not share his enthusiasm. She was doubtful about having another youngster in her care, after how poorly she'd done last time, even if Harry was almost of age. The hope shining in his emerald eyes, and her lingering promise to be there when he needed her, won over all her fears and initial hesitation.

'Yes, Harry.' Irma nodded with an uncertain smile. 'Indeed we do.'