At 6:45 that night, Harry made his way from Gryffindor Tower and headed for the entrance way.

He had decided not to tell Ron or Hermione what had transpired earlier in Professor Snape’s quarters.

They’d probably think I was crazy, he couldn’t help but think to himself. If I hadn’t seen that potion…and those pictures…I’d think I was crazy!

He still couldn’t quite believe it. James Potter was not his father…Professor Snape was.

Harry really didn’t know how to feel about this.

As far as James…

He had no real memory of the man so finding out someone else had fathered him didn’t seem to be particularly hurtful or horrifying.

He was certain James must have been a good man, though as a kid his was a miserable brat, otherwise his mother would not have married him after she thought Snape was dead.

And as for Snape…

Harry wasn’t sure how to feel about the Potions Master being his father.

I’ve only known him for two months, he thought, and most of that has only been in class!

Of course, now that he knew the whole truth, he could understand the man’s cold attitude towards him.

He supposed he’d resent having to look at the child of the beloved wife he lost to his childhood rival everyday, too.

But that still didn’t keep him from looking out for you, that inner voice that sounded like Hermione again reminded him.

I know, Harry thought with a sigh. He was just so confused. Before, when he was just an orphan, it was rather easy to think of his parents.

After all, they were more or less an abstract concept—he knew who they were, of course, and he loved them because they were his parents, but having never known them he could, of course, say he liked having them as his parents.

Now that his father was very much alive…and somebody he knew…he just didn’t know.

He couldn’t say he loved Professor Snape…or even liked him…but he did respect him; as well as trust him.

That’s because he’s earned it, Harry thought, by watching out for me and saving my life.

But love…would he ever come to love the tall dark clad Potions Master as he thought he loved the idealized image of James Potter?

Even he wasn’t perfect, after all. Maybe that was part of the problem.

In his mind, Harry had always thought of his parents (once he knew how they really died, anyway) as these great larger-than-life individuals—who had valiantly fought and died trying to stop the single Darkest wizard in the world—and who were wonderful and all but sainted.

Professor Snape, however, was real.

He had problems and flaws and could be gruff and snarky at the best of times…mean and vicious at the worst of them.

But he’s always honest, Harry thought to himself. He’s never lied to me about anything so far, anyway.

He couldn’t say the same for his aunt and uncle. They had lied to him his whole life.

And though he was sure it was unintentional, so had several of his teachers.

Professor McGonagall had raved about James’ Quidditch and Transfiguration skills, but had said nothing about his bullying.

Professor Flitwick had told him Lily had been excellent at Charms, yet failed to mention she had been good in potions as well.

Even Hagrid had proudly stated about them being Head Boy and Girl…

It’s like they were perfect, Harry thought, sadly. Only…they weren’t.

Earlier, Harry had asked Ron what he thought of his dad…just out of curiosity. "I’ve never had a dad," he’d told him. "What’s he like?"

Ron had merely stared at him, thinking.

"Well, he’s…he’s my dad," he’d told him, with a shrug. "He’s all right, I reckon…for a dad. He don’t yell quite as loud as Mum does, but we always know when he’s pissed—and you don’t ever want to get on his bad side Mum might whack us with a wooden spoon she carried around in her apron, but it doesn’t hurt quite as much as Dad’s hand."

"So…you get along?" Harry had asked, raising an eyebrow. "All the time?"

Ron had snorted at that, laughing. "’Ell no, ‘Arry," he’d chortled. "I get mad at him all the time!"

"But you still love him, right?" Harry had said, hesitantly. "Even when he does something to make you mad?"

"’Course," Ron said, looking as if the idea of not loving his own father was preposterous. "He’s me dad, ‘Arry."

"Yeah," Harry had said, quietly. "Must be nice."

He’d then changed the subject to Quidditch, knowing full well Ron would latch onto it immediately and forget about the strange inquiry.

It had, however, given him a lot of food for thought.

Ron loved his father, and respected him, even when they disagree or argued for the simple fact he was his dad.

Would he ever be able to say the same of Professor Snape?

Of course, Ron had had his dad since he was born—they’d had eleven years to form a strong bond with each other.

Would he and the Potions Master ever have a similar bond?

I guess, Harry thought, it’ll depend on how we get on from here on out.

Time…that was the key, he supposed.

They needed time to get to know each other as more than just student and teacher.

They needed time to establish what each liked and didn’t like…as well as what they liked and disliked about each other.

They needed time to…to learn to like each other.

Hopefully, they then would have time to learn to love each other.

Would there be enough time for everything that needed to done and said in order for them to become like a normal father and son?

Like Ron and his dad, Harry thought enviously. Because that is exactly what he wanted.

But did the professor want that, too?

That afternoon, in his quarters, the man had seemed just as shocked and bewildered as he was.

It must have come as a real blow, Harry realized, that Mum never told him I was his. I wonder why she didn’t…

But despite that, the man had told him and Draco about his past…even though it was brutally clear that all he wanted to do was actually forget about it.

He’s been alone all these years, Harry thought sadly. Mourning Mum…

No wonder he tended to be gruff and sour tempered all the time. Harry was certain he’d be, too.

Arriving at the entrance way five minutes before seven, he found that Snape and Malfoy were already there; waiting.

The Professor was dressed in a black suit and tie. If it weren’t for the green dress shirt he wore with it, you’d have thought he was going to a funeral or something.

Malfoy was wearing a suit and tie, too—only his was silver in color.

Harry glanced down at his school uniform and frowned. I wonder what kind of detention this is going to be?

"There you are, Harry," Snape said, as he stepped off the last step and joined them.

Malfoy snorted. "’Cuttin’ it close, Potter," he said, sourly. "Aren’t you?"

Harry scowled at his…cousin…and opened his mouth to reply, but the Professor stopped him with a raised hand.

"Don’t start," the Potions Master ordered, firmly. "That’s part of the reason you’re serving this detention, as it is."

"Yes, Sir," Harry said, quietly.

The professor glanced down at his uniform and raised an eyebrow. "Why are you wearing your uniform, Harry?" he asked him, curiously.

Harry blinked at him. "You told me to wear my best clothes, Sir," he reminded him. "Remember?"

Snape frowned. "I don’t understand," he told him. "Surely you brought along other clothes, too…"

"Yes, Sir," Harry told him, "but all my other clothes are hand-me-downs from my cousin, Dudley…and they’re not exactly—um—new, Sir."

A strange look came upon the professor’s face, then. It looked like a mixture of anger…and disappointment.

"I, uh, I guess I shoulda got some new clothes when I went to Diagon Alley," Harry told him, "but it wasn’t on my school list and Hagrid didn’t say anything…"

"No, he wouldn’t have," Snape told him, shaking his head. "It’s assumed most students already have decent clothes to bring with them…again, something we’ll need to rectify in the future. It is no matter, at the moment. Here."

He took out his wand and flicked it at him.

Harry glanced down and watched as his school uniform was transfigured into an emerald green suit and tie.

"Green?" he asked, wrinkling his nose. With Malfoy in a silver suit and him in green one, they looked like a pair of walking Slytherin symbols!

Snape smirked. "It brings out your eyes," he told him, shrugging. "Now then, we are ready to go."

"Where are we going, Uncle Sev?" Malfoy asked the professor, as he led them out of the castle.

"You shall see," Snape told them. "Do not forget, boys, this is a detention—albeit, not a normal one."

No kidding, Harry thought with a snort. Most professors didn’t make their students dress up for detentions!

The Potions Master stopped a few hundred yards beyond the castle. He looked down at them.

"We shall be apparating to our destination from here," he informed them, matter-of-factly.

"What’s that, Sir?" Harry asked him, curiously.

"Apparition, Harry," Snape explained, "is an ability to go from one destination to another in the blink of an eye. Muggles would call it ‘teleportation’."

"Wow," Harry said, smiling. "When will we get to learn to do it?"

Malfoy snorted. "Not ‘til we’re sixteen," he said, sourly. "It’s not fair!"

"Life rarely is, Draco," Snape told him, rolling his eyes. "In order to Apparate, Harry, you must have a license."

"So, it’s kinda like a Muggle driving test?" Harry asked, smirking.

Snape smiled. "Exactly," he told him. "Now then, Draco has travelled this way before—with his parents and with me—but I know you have never done so. You may feel a bit dizzy, lightheaded, and even a bit queasy once we reach our destination. I want you to tell me if you do so—I’ve brought along a Stomach-Calming Drought, just in case. All right?"

Harry nodded. "Is our destination far, Sir," he asked, curiously.

Snape smirked. "No farther than it will take you to blink," he told him, chuckling. "You will, however, have to hold my hand."

"Nobody better see me," Draco grumbled, sourly, as he took hold of his uncle’s hand. "I’d never hear the end of it from those idiots Nott and Zabini!"

Harry snorted at that.

"What are you complaining about?" he told his cousin, taking hold of the professor’s free hand. "I’d never hear the end of it from Ron!"

"Yes, young Mr. Weasley can be a bit obtuse in his opinions," Snape said, sniffing. "To think he is actually your mother’s godson…"

"What!?" Harry exclaimed, surprised. "Really?"

Instead of answering, however, the Professor proceeded to apparate at that moment.

It was the weirdest feeling Harry had ever felt, as if his stomach had suddenly decided to leap into chest, kinda like being a roller-coaster ride that suddenly made a sheer drop.

One moment they were standing on the grass at Hogwarts, the next they were standing on the sidewalk outside of a tall white building with the words ‘St. Mungo’s Hospital for Magical Maladies’ above the pair of double doors that served as an entrance.

"Ugh," Harry put his hand on his stomach. He felt just the way the professor had told him he would: dizzy and queasy.

Snape let go of his hand and pulled a smile vial from his suit-jacket’s inner pocket.

"Drink this," he told him, firmly. "It will help."

Remembering the Pain-Relieving potion only all too well, Harry was reluctant to follow the command but his upset stomach outvoted his taste buds.

Downing the potion, this one actually tasted rather minty, his stomach began to ease and he could focus more on where we are.

"How come we’re at the hospital, Uncle Sev?" Draco asked him, frowning. "You’re not gonna make us take care of sick people for our detention, are you?"

"Heaven forbid," Snape said, wincing. "You two would probably make the patients worse…instead of better."

"Hey!" Harry and Draco said, indignantly.

Snape chuckled. "No, we are here for an entirely different reason—though having students clean bed pans might be a very good idea for future detentions," he said, smirking wickedly.

Harry glared at Draco, who groaned. "Me and my big mouth," the blonde boy muttered, looking pained.

Got that right, Harry thought as they followed the Potions Master up the steps to the hospital entrance.

Entering the hospital, the professor led them to the third floor. Here they came to a door that read ‘Psychiatric Ward’ above it.

"Uh, Uncle Sev…" Draco said, hesitantly. "I-Isn’t this where the crazy people are?"

Snape glared down at him, a stern look on his face.

"Those ‘crazy people’, Draco Lucius, deserve your respect and sympathy," he told him, firmly. "Not your pity or revulsion."

"Yes, Sir," the blonde boy said, quietly. "I was just asking…"

Harry couldn’t really blame the Slytherin for being hesitant. He was feeling a little apprehensive himself.

Why would Snape bring us here? He couldn’t help but think to himself.

"Remember, boys," Snape told them as he opened the double doors leading into the psychiatric ward, "you are here to learn something. It's important."

Harry and Draco both nodded, and followed him to the nurse's station. A plump mediwitch, with pink cheeks, and a bright smile on her face greeted them.

"Good evening," she gushed at them. "How may I help you three gentlemen on this absolutely wonderfully gorgeous night!"

Are we sure she's not one of the patients? Harry thought to himself. If not, she's way over doing it the whole 'be upbeat and cheerful to make the patients feel better' routine.

"Good evening," Snape inclined his head to her, politely. "I am Professor Severus Snape. I fire-called the supervising physician earlier today and was granted special permission to visit a couple of your patients with a two of my students tonight."

The mediwitch glanced down a sheet of parchment in front of her.

"Why, yes," she gushed again. "Here you are, Professor Snape...right there in black-white! If it had been a hippogriff it'd have nipped out and bit me, don'tcha know?"

"Indeed," the Potions Master said, his face tightening ever so slightly.

Harry smirked at that.

She's really getting on his nerves, he thought with a snicker. He only usually looks like that whenever Hermione won't stop asking questions in class!

"If you three will follow me," the woman told them. "The ones you've come to see are right this way, poor souls!"

With that, she turned and headed down the long corridor past her station.

"Come along, boys," Snape told them, "and whatever you do...do not look in any doorways--no matter what you hear coming from them."

"Yes, Sir," Harry and Draco answered, following him down the corridor after the mediwitch.

There were many strange and unusual sounds on that corridor, and most of them were not pleasant sounding. Not at all.

Once, when a particular shrill scream tore through the ward, both Harry and Draco jumped and instinctively grabbed the professor's hands.

Snape smirked a them. "Do not worry, boys," he told them, silkily. "I will not let any boogey-men have you."

Realizing what he'd done amd how it would have looked to any of the guys back in the dorm, he quickly let go of the professor's hand and glared at Malfoy.

As it turned out, Malfoy had done the same and was glaring at him.

Their glares said the same thing, 'If you tell anybody about this, I'll hex you into the next century!'

They quickly learned to ignore the sounds and simply followed the Potions Master. At last, the mediwitch stopped on the very last door.

"Here they are, poor dears," she said, sighing. "Having been alerted to your arrival, we placed a calming charm on them...today has not been a good day for them, I am afraid." She 'tsked' and shook her head.

"Thank very much," Snape told her. "May we go in privately, please?"

"Of course," the mediwitch told them. "Please, though, try not to stay too long. It is nearly time for lights out. I'll just be at my station if you need me."

Harry watched her head back to her station, but turned back around when he felt a hand on his shoulder.

"Come, Harry," Snape told him, "as the lady said, we can't stay but a few minutes." With that, he ushered them into the room.

Harry swallowed.

Laying side by side in the room were a man and a woman. Their faces were haggard and gaunt, they were nothing but skin and bones, and though their eyes were open and moving there was not a trace of...well, anything...remotely sane within them.

"Harry, Draco," Snape told them, quietly. "I'd like you to meet Frank and Alice Longbottom."

Harry gasped. "You mean Neville's parents!?" he asked, shocked. "I thought they were dead!"

Snape shook his head. "Oh, no," he said, sadly, "they are very much alive, as you can see. They're just..."

"Crazy," Draco said, swallowing. His blue eyes had gone very wide at the sight of the two mental patients.

"I was going to say 'not in their right minds'," Snape said, sternly. "Remember what I said about respect, Draco."

"H-How did they get like this?" Harry asked him, hesitantly.

"They were attacked and tortured," Snape told him, grimly. "By Death Eaters...on the very night ten years ago that the Dark Lord visited Godric's Hollow."

"W-Weren't they Aurors?" Draco asked him, curiously.

"Oh, yes, and very good ones, in fact," Snape told him. "Unfortunately, they were not the only ones at home when the Death Eaters attacked. Young Mr. Longbottom was there, as well, and they used him as leverage against them."

Harry's eyes widened. "Neville was there!" he exclaimed, horrified. "That's awful!"

"Yes, it was," Snape said. "They tortured his parents right in front of him, in fact. To this day, no one is absolutely certain how much he actually remembers."

Harry felt qeasy in his stomach again. "I, uh, I had no idea," he said, feeling very bad for his classmate. "I-Is that why he's, well, um..."

"A bumbling idiot," Malfoy supplied, snorting.

Both Harry and Snape glared at him.

"More or less, yes," Snape told him, "though I would hardly say 'idiot'. Terrified of his own shadow, definitely, but he is far from being idiotic. Though, his potions skills are far less than to be desired...the grandmother who has raised him may also be to blame. She is said to be very protective of him."

Harry nodded, glancing back at the Longbottoms.

"H-How could they do that to them?" he asked, disgusted. "Nobody deserves that!"

"Yes, but the Dark Lord and his followers do not care about morals or scruples," Snape told them, firmly. "They are completely without remorse...and that is the type of evil you went 'looking for' the other night."

"Oh," Harry said, understanding now why the man had brought them here. "You think that thing would have done that to us?"

"I don't think, Harry James," Snape told him, sternly. "I know. Death would have been the more fortunate of the options that awaited you if I had not been there to intervene."

Harry glanced down. "I'm sorry," he said, quietly. "I just wanted to save the unicorn...if I could."

Finger reached under his chin and lifted his head so that he was staring into the professor's dark eyes.

"The unicorn's fate was already sealed," Snape told him, grimly. "Being brave in the face of unspeakable evil is a admirable trait, but being smart enough to know when you can win against said evil is better. You are only eleven years old, Harry, it is not your place to be 'rescuing' everybody in the whole bloody world!"

Harry nodded. "I, uh, I understand," he said, quietly. "Sir."

"I pray that you do," Snape told him, and then glanced at Malfoy. "As for you, Draco, this is the type of evil your father would have you aspire to. Do you truly want that?"

The blonde haired Slytherin quickly shook his head. "No, Uncle Sev!" he said, fiercely. "Y-You know I don't!"

"Then," Snape told him, firmly, "I pray you remember this night and never let your father--no matter what he says or promises--sway you differently."

"I'll remember," Malfoy promised, tears forming in his blue eyes.

Snape glanced at Harry, who nodded. "I'll remember too," he said. "Sir."

"Very good," the Potions Master said, seemingly satisfied with their answers. "There is one more thing I wish to show you, and then we shall be returning to school and you shall go to bed. You will report to the dungeons tomorrow morning after breakfast to write an essay no shorter than three foot on what you have learned from this experience tonight."

"B-But tomorrow is Saturday!" Draco said, sourly.

"I've got the first Quidditch match tomorrow, Sir," Harry reminded him. "W-Wood wanted us to practice after breakfast."

"That is simply too bad," Snape informed him, ushering them out of the room. "Mr. Wood can discuss it with me if he has a problem with it. Of course, you could go to the practice...but then you'd still have to come write your essay in the afternoon."

"But I'd miss the game!" Harry gasped, his green eyes widening.

"Yes, quite the delimma," Snape said, shrugging, "but the choice is, after all, yours."

Harry sighed. "I'll be there after breakfast," he said, quietly. "Sir."

"Somehow I knew you'd see things my way," Snape said, smirking wickedly. "Draco?"

Malfoy nodded. "I'll be there, too," he said, sourly. "Detention on a Saturday...that's just so wrong!"

"As I've often said, dragonling," Snape told him. "If you don't want to do the time..."

"Don't do the crime," Malfoy finished for him, rolling his eyes. "I know. I know."

Harry sighed. Great, he thought grumpily, how am I going to explain this to Wood!?

Snape led them from the pyschiatric ward up to the fifth floor.

Once again, he stopped at the nurse's station...but this time it seemed as if he knew the older mediwitch on duty.

"Good evening, Gretchen," he greeted her, actually smiling. "How are you this evening?"

"Professor Snape, Sir!" Nurse Gretchen hopped up out of her chair, her eyes wide with surprise. "I was not expecting you back 'til Christmas time, Sir!"

"Calm yourself, Gretchen," Snape told her, soothingly. "I know I am breaking with my tradition, but I have brought someone to visit her. This is Harry."

Harry was a little surprised when the man put his arm around his shoulders, but it also felt...nice, somehow.

Nurse Gretchen looked down at him, her eyes met his, and then hers grew to the size of saucers.

"Is he...?" she asked Snape, curiously.

The Potions Master nodded. "He is, indeed," he told her. "May we see her?"

"Of course, Sir," Nurse Gretchen said. "Go right ahead, stay as long as you need to."

"We won't stay that long, I assure you," he told the mediwitch, quietly. "I must get these two back to school before curfew, after all. Come, boys."

With that, he turned and headed down yet another long corridor. Harry and Malfoy followed him to the last door on the right.

Entering it, Harry stopped dead in his tracks at the sight of the red haired woman laying asleep on the bed.

His green eyes widened, recognizing the woman he'd looked at in the photo album Snape had let him look through, in shock.

"Mum?" he asked, "b-but it can't be..." He glanced up at the professor, curiously.

"Yes, Harry," Snape said, going around the bed and motioning for him to come closer. Malfoy, too. "It's really her."

Harry stepped up to the other side of the bed, opposite the Potions Master, and stared at his sleeping mother.

"B-But how?" he asked, feeling very confused.

"Contrary to popular opinion," Snape explained, "your mother did not die that night at Godric's Hollow."

"But she was hit with the Killing Curse!" Malfoy protested.

"Yes, she was," Snape told him, "but like Harry, it did not kill her."

"Why not?" Harry asked, puzzled.

"That night your mother cast a very powerful protection charm upon you, Harry," Snape explained, gently. "To this day I don't know what it was, but it was very strong. The power of that curse, combined with Lily's intense love for you, and willingness to sacrifice her life for her own created a strong magical barrier that, unknowingly to her I think, protected both of you. When the Dark Lord struck her with the Killing Curse, it merely rendered her in a state of suspended animation...a magical coma, if you will."

"You mean she's been like this ever since that night?" Harry asked, swallowing. "She's been asleep for ten years!"

Snape nodded, sadly.

"Yes, I am afraid so," he told him. "I did everything within my power to revive her, but nothing worked. Finally, I simply had to bring her here where I knew she could be looked after properly."

"How come everybody thinks she died that night?" Malfoy asked, curiously. "I mean, didn't they find her body?"

"That was my doing," the Potions Master told him. "Hagrid had already carried you to Professor Dumbledore, Harry, to be left with your aunt and uncle by the time I arrived there that night. When I discovered Lily was indeed alive, I knew that if I did not get her out of there before the Aurors showed up then there wee bound to be a lot of questions that would have been to asked and answered. You and your mother, Harry, would have been put on display, not to mention examined and studied like a pair of lab rats, and I could not let that happen. So, I simply transfigured one of your stuffed toys into a exact replica of your mother. Because the toy was not animated, to all intense and purposes 'she' appeared dead."

Harry nodded, understanding. "I'm glad you saved her, Sir," he told him, sincerely. "C-Can I talk to her?"

Snape actually smiled at him. "Of course you can," he told him. "I talk to her every time I visit her."

Taking hold of Lily's hand, the professor leaned down and said, "Lily, love, I've brought Harry to see you. Go on, Harry. She can hear you, even if she can't respond."

Harry nodded, picking up and holding his mother's other hand. He felt tears well in his eyes and a lump in his throat, but he quickly cleared it.

"H-Hi there, Mum," he told her, hesitantly. "I-It's me, Harry. I'm real glad your alive, Mum, and I'm glad Professor Snape brought me here tonight. He's my dad, Mum, did you know that? (He ignored the snort from Malfoy at that) I'm really liking Hogwarts, Mum, and I'm trying my best to learn all I can. I'm on the Quidditch team, too. I'm the youngest Seeker in over a century. Professor McGonagall said so..."

"Harry," Snape said, making him look up. "Remember to breathe, child. We can't have you passing out from lack of oxygen, now can we?"

Harry blushed at that, but nodded. He glanced back at his mother's still form and sniffed.

"I, uh, I guess what I really wanted to say," he told her, "is that...that I've really missed you, Mum!"

The tears he'd been holding back finally decided to leak from his eyes. One of them, a single tiny tear drop, slid off his cheek and onto his mother's hand.

The moment it did so, color flooded back into Lily’s pale cheeks, she took a deep breathe and her eyes fluttered open.

Harry heard Snape take in a breathe, sharply, and glanced up to find the man was looking down wide-eyed.

There were actually tears in the Potion Master’s eyes!

"Lily!"

HPHPHPHPHP

Severus could not believe his eyes.

For the first time in more than ten years, he was staring into his Lily's beautiful emerald green eyes again!

She blinked up at him. "S-Severus," she breathed, swallowing hard.

"Yes, Lily," he told her, sitting down upon the bed. "It’s me."

"W-Where I am?" she asked, weakly.

"You’re at St. Mungo’s," he told her, speaking gently and softly. "You’ve been asleep for a very long time."

"H-How long?" she asked him, her green eyes widening slightly.

Severus swallowed, his own throat suddenly feeling very dry. "Ten years," he told her, quietly.

Lily gasped, shaking her head in disbelief.

"S-So long," she said, and suddenly her eyes grew scared. "What about James... and Harry, Severus?!"

"I’m here, Mum," Harry spoke up, gaining his mother’s attention. "I’m okay, see?"

Lily blinked, and Severus knew what she must be feeling.

After all, the last time she had laid eyes upon her son he had only been fifteen months old.

"Harry," Lily said, her voice barely a whisper. "My baby…"

She attempted to raise her arm, to touch his face, but found that she could only do so a few inches.

"Easy, Lily," Severus cautioned. "Not so fast."

She glanced at him. "I feel so weak, Severus," she told him. "I can barely move."

Severus nodded. He figured as much. He turned to Draco.

"Go get Nurse Gretchen," he ordered his nephew. Draco nodded, exiting the room.

Lily turned her attention once more to her…their…son.

"Oh, Harry, how you’ve grown," she told him, smiling. "You’re what? Eleven now?"

Harry nodded. "That’s right, Mum," he told her, wiping at the tears that were still falling down his cheek.

"He started Hogwarts this year," Severus told her, quietly.

Lily glanced at him, frowning. "Have you been caring for him all this time?" she asked him, curiously.

Severus shook his head. "No, I’m afraid not," he told her. "He’s lived with your sister and her family."

"Then, James is dead," Lily said, quietly. "I knew he must be…it was the only way he could have gotten upstairs that night."

"I’m sorry, Lily," Severus said, feeling his guts twist. Potter was her husband, he reminded him. She has a right to grieve.

A single tear fell from Lily eye, but she simply shook her head.

"He wouldn’t have had it any other way," she told them, quietly.

"Yes," Severus said, resisting rolling his eyes. "He died a hero."

"B-But why didn’t I?" Lily asked, curiously.

"Because—" Severus started to say, but just then Draco returned with Gretchen.

"Well now," the mediwitch beamed at Lily. "Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes! Hello, dear, my name is Gretchen."

"She’s the nurse that been your primary caregiver all these years," Severus explained to Lily.

"Oh, it’s nice to meet you," Lily said, smiling. "Thank for taking such good care of me. I hope I wasn’t too difficult a patient…"

Severus snorted at that. Only you, my love, he thought to himself.

"Not at all, dear," Gretchen told her, taking out her wand. "How are you feeling?"

"Weak," Lily answered her, honestly. "Very weak."

Gretchen quickly ran a couple of diagnostic charms.

"Hmm, that’s perfectly understandable," she told her, gently. "Even though we have kept your body healthy all these years with nutrient potions and a daily regime of exercises to keep you from losing any muscle mass, your arms and legs have not functioned in all that time. It will take some time for them to start functioning normally again."

"Will I need to re-learn to walk?" Lily asked, worriedly. "I can barely feel my legs and I can’t move my toes at all."

"It will take time for the blood to start circulating again, as well," Gretchen told her. "But not to worry, dear. There’s every indication you will make a full recovery."

"How is her magical core doing?" Severus asked, curiously. "When I brought her here ten years ago, it was nearly completely depleted."

"It was?" Lily asked, wide-eyed, at the same time Harry asked, "What’s a magical core?"

Severus decided to answer the mother rather than the son.

"Whatever charm you used to protect Harry that night, Lily," he explained, "was so strong it took nearly all your magic to sustain it…which is understandable since it not only protected him but you, as well."

"Then, it did work," Lily said, glancing at her son. "He wasn’t able to harm you at all?"

"Only this," Harry said, showing her his lightening bolt scar. "Me and it are famous now, Mum."

"You are?" Lily asked, glancing at him.

"Yes, unfortunately, he is," Severus snorted, shaking his head. "They refer to him as ‘The-Boy-Who-Lived’ and half the staff, including Minerva and Albus, fawn over him."

"But you don’t, I take it," Lily said, smirking.

"Hardly," Severus told her, smirking. "I treat him just like I do all the other students."

"Nuh uh," Harry said. "I bet you don’t wallop anybody else’s bum!"

"Yes, well," Severus said, "that is the only difference…and only because you and Draco are related by blood to me."

"Lily, dear," Gretchen interrupted, gently. "I’m going go get you a strong nutrient drought, all right. I’ll be right back." With that, she turned and left the room.

"She seems nice," Lily commented, glancing between him and their son. "So, Harry, do you like Hogwarts so far?"

"Yeah, Mum, it’s great!" the dark haired boy told her. "I love it!"

"I’m glad," Lily said, smiling. "Before coming to school, though, did you like living with my sister and her family. Did they treat you all right?"

"I can answer that," Severus told her. "No, they didn’t. They lied to him the whole of his life, refusing to tell him anything about you or Potter, and punished him whenever he had accidental bouts of magic."

"Is that true, Harry?" Lily wanted to know, eyeing her son firmly.

Harry nodded. "Yeah, Mum," he admitted, "but its all right."

"No, it isn’t," Both Severus and Lily exclaimed at the same time, causing the boy to jump.

"Just wait ‘til I get my hands on Petunia," Lily growled, angrily. "I’m gonna ring her scrawny neck like a chicken!"

"I’d love to turn that fat walrus she calls a husband into a beach ball or something," Severus added, smirking. "That way I could deflate him…very slowly."

Harry snickered at that.

"Hagrid tried to turn Dudley into a pig," he told them, "but he couldn’t…he just gave him a pig’s tail sticking out of his fat ass!"

"Harry James!" Severus growled, sternly. "Language!"

"Well, it did," Harry told him, smirking. "They had to have it surgically removed, too!"

Lily chuckled at that, and Severus couldn't help but smirk.

"Um, Uncle Sev?" Draco spoke up, hesitantly.

Severus glanced at his nephew. "Yes, dragonling," he said, smiling at him. "What is it?"

"Uh…what about curfew?" Draco asked him. "Don’t we have to be back by then?"

"Good Lord, you’re right," Severus said, closing his eyes. "I completely forgot!"

Harry shook his head. "But we can’t leave Mum!" he protested. "She just woke up!"

"I know that, Harry," Severus told him, relunctant to leave himself. "But we must."

"It’s okay, Sweetheart," Lily told him. "I understand."

"B-But," Harry cried, desperately. "Tomorrow’s Saturday! There’s no classes!"

"No," Severus agreed, "but you have an essay to write tomorrow morning and then your first Quidditch game tomorrow afternoon, remember?"

"Quidditch?" Lily asked, frowning. "But isn’t this just his first year?"

"Yes," Severus told her, "but due to an incredibly lucky stunt he pulled during his first broom riding lesson Minerva convinced Albus to bends the rules and let him play."

"I see," Lily said, glancing at Harry worriedly. "You will be careful, won’t you?"

"Course I will, Mum," Harry assured her. "I’m the Seeker, anyway. All I have to do is catch the Snitch."

"And not break your neck while you do it," Severus told him, sniffing.

He took out his pocket watch. It was definitely time to be going...though he did not want to.

For the first time in nearly ten years, Severus hated his role as Head of Slytherin House.

"Come along, boys," he said, sighing. "We really must get back to the school."

Harry still did not wish to leave, he could see it in his eyes. "I don’t want to leave, Mum," he whispered, tears welling in his eyes.

"Harry," Lily told him, "it’s all right. Like Nurse Gretchen said, I am going to be here awhile yet and you must go back to school."

"But there’s so much I want to tell you!" he told her, excitedly. "And I know Professor Snape has stuff to tell you, too."

"And now that she is awake," Severus told him, firmly, "there is time for all that. We now have time for everything, I assure you. We will visit often, Harry. You have my word on that."

Harry sighed. "All right," he said, looking disappointed. "I’ll go back." He quickly dove on his mother and hugged her.

Lily smiled down at his head. "Be good, baby," she told him. "Have a good game tomorrow."

"I’ll catch the Snitch just for you, Mum," Harry told her, proudly. "I’ll tell you all about when we visit again."

"All right," Lily said, smiling.

"We’ll come again on Sunday," Severus told her. "After the game tomorrow, I need to take Harry to Diagon Alley for some new clothes."

Lily nodded. "Severus?" she asked him, curiously.

"Yes, Lily," he said, looking into her beautiful emerald eyes and smiling.

"Aren’t going to kiss me goodnight?" she asked him, her eyes shining with merriment.

Severus smiled. "Good night, my Lily," he told her, gently. "You will never know how happy am you have come back to me…"

With that, he placed a gentle kiss upon her lips and then (before he lost his nerve) ushered the boys out of the room.

We are together again, my love, he thought to himself as they exited the Hospital to return to Hogwarts.

This time, nothing was going to keep them apart.

SSSSSSSS

Lily sighed as Severus and the boys exited the room.

She still couldn’t quite believe she had been asleep for ten long years!

I’m now thirty-five, she realized suddenly. I wonder if I’ve aged gracefully or not…

Then, she snorted at such a thought. She’d never cared about her looks before, why should she start now?

Nurse Gretchen returned then, with her nutrient potion and one other vial.

"I’ve also brought a mild Sleeping Drought," she informed her. "Having just woken up, I know you’ll be reluctant to fall asleep again…but its still the best medicine—both Muggle and magical healers agree on that."

Lily nodded. "I know," she told her, gently. "Thank you, Nurse Gretchen."

"Please, dear, just call me Gretchen," she told her. "I’ve got a daughter your age, after all."

"All right," Lily said, smiling. "Gretchen. Thank you." She downed both potions, wrinkling her nose at their awful taste.

"Now, while you’re waiting for the Drought to kick in," Gretchen said, "would you like me to fill you in on what’s been happening in the world the last ten years?"

Lily smiled. "I’d love that," she told her. "Tell me everything!"

And so, that is exactly what the talkative mediwitch did…