Harry Potter was very excited, as he waited outside the Great Hall doors for the Sorting Ceremony to begin.

This was to be is first year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry and he wanted everything to go right.

All his life…the last ten years of it, anyway…he’d been told he was a freak and worthless by his aunt, uncle, and cousin.

This was his chance to prove the stupid Muggles wrong…and he planned on doing just that.

He couldn’t believe it when Hagrid, the Hogwarts’ Groundskeeper, had told him he was a wizard, but obviously it was true.

So, that proved he wasn’t a freak…not when there were many, many others that could do the exact same things he could.

"I’m so nervous, ‘Arry," Ron Weasley, the red headed boy he’d befriended on the Hogwarts Express, told him.

Harry smiled at him. Ron was the first real friend he could remember having…

"You’ll be fine," Harry assured his new friend. "I’m the one who should be worried. What if I don’t get Sorted at all?"

"Everybody gets Sorted, ‘Arry," Ron told him, smiling. "Its which House you’ll be in that you gotta watch out for. Remember what I told you…you know…about them?"

Harry nodded. He did remember.

Slytherin was supposed to be a House that had produced more Dark witches and wizards than any other.

It was the house he had been in.

The evil bastard of a wizard who’d crept into his parents house ten years before and murdered his parents.

He’d tried to kill him, too, but somehow…and nobody was sure how…he’d survived—and the evil wizard was vanquished as a result.

At least, that was what Hagrid had told him.

That was why he famous in the Wizarding World and was known as The-Boy-Who-Lived.

Harry snorted, sighing.At the moment I’d rather be The-Boy-Who-Doesn’t-Get-Into-Slytherin, he thought to himself.

Just then, the large doors of the Great Hall opened and Professor McGonagall stepped out once more.

"Form a single file line, please," she instructed them, and they did so. "Now, follow me."

On cue, the line of First Years followed the stern Deputy Headmistress/Transfiguration Professor/Head of Gryffindor House into the Great Hall.

Harry, and nearly everybody else, gasped at the sight that greeted them. The Hall was huge!

Four long tables sat, stretching end to end of it, and upon the walls were the four manners that held the House crests upon them.

"I’ve read all about it in Hogwarts: A History," Hermione Granger, the girl with the mousy brown hair who’d repaired his glasses on the train, whispered just behind Harry and Ron. "The red-n-gold Lion is for Gryffindor. The silver-n-green Serpent is for Slytherin. The blue-n-bronze Eagle is Ravenclaw. And the black-n-gold Badger is for Hufflepuff."

On a tiered platform, at the very front of the hall, was yet another long table.

This one, however, was for the Hogwarts’ professors and staff.

"Blimey, ‘Arry, Fred and George tried to tell me," Ron said, glancing up at the ceiling, "but I thought they were just foolin’ with me. Look!"

Harry glanced up and smiled at the sight of the night sky and stars twinkling over head.

"It’s enchanted to match the night sky," Hermione whispered again. "Oh, look! I think I see the constellation Delphinus!"

Ron snorted, leaning in to whisper in Harry’s ear. "Girls, huh mate?" he said, sarcastically.

Harry smiled, but didn’t reply. He was too busy being focused on what was happening in front of him.

Professor McGonagall stood on the platform directly in front of the teacher’s table.

Sitting beside her was a stool, with a very old and much worn looking conical hat sitting on it.

"When you’re name is called," she instructed the First Years, "come up here, sit down, and put on the Hat—it will then Sort you into the House you belong in."

Then, the Hat began to sing—a very long, long song about each House.

Once it was through, the Sorting began.

One by one, their names were called and each student put on the Sorting Hat.

It would take a moment, but then shout out the students’ House.

When it was Harry’s turn, there was quite a stir among those watching.

Even the teachers seemed eager to see which House the Boy-Who-Lived would be in.

Two teachers, Harry noticed, watched him intently.

One was Professor Dumbledore, the school’s Headmaster, but the other…

The other was a tall, lean man with very pale skin. He had long, shoulder-length black hair and jet black eyes.

For just a moment, as he stepped up to the stool, Harry’s eyes met his and there was almost a…recognition…somehow.

The man’s black eyes widened for just the briefest of a moment, but then a scowl formed upon his face—making him appear stern and menacing.

Harry turned around to sit on the stool, and was very glad.

That professor’s stare was very intimidating, for some reason.

The Hat was placed on his head and he shut his eyes—waiting for the verdict.

Why? Harry thought with a frown. Why am I difficult?

Not Slytherin, Harry thought desperately. Anywhere but Slytherin!

: Not Slytherin, eh? : The Hat chuckled. : Well, then, it had better be…:

"GRYFFINDOR!" This last part was spoken, more like shouted, out loud.

Harry opened his eyes at the sound of thunderous applause, and saw that the members of the Gryffindor table were clapping and cheering like there was no tomorrow.

Getting up off the stool, a large smile on his face, he went to sit beside Hermione and Neville Longbottom, the boy who kept losing his toad, both of whom had also been sorted into Gryffindor.

The Sorting continued. Ron was sorted into Gryffindor, along with all of his brothers. Harry was glad.

Now he and his best mate could room together, too.

Draco Malfoy, the arrogant boy he'd met in the robe shop, was sorted into Slytherin.

"Go figure," Ron snorted to him. "Malfoys family is as bad as they get."

Harry nodded, but could have cared less about the spoiled brat at the moment.

Glancing up at the teacher table again, he saw Professor Dumbledore smile at him and give him a wink before he stood up to make his speech.

Almost automatically, Harry glancing to the man’s right—at the dark clad professor who’d been staring at him earlier.

Once again, there eyes met—green and black—and Harry saw something within that dark gaze that puzzled him.

Was it…pain? But...why?

Just then, however, Dumbledore made his welcome back speech and warned them about going to the Third Floor, as well as the Forbidden Forest.

After that, the food arrived and everything else was forgotten as Harry began to dig into the most delicious—and filling—meal he had ever had.

Still, Professor Snape—for that was who Percy Weasley had said the dark clad man was—staring at him puzzled him.

It was as if…he knew him, somehow. But that was silly.

Wasn’t it?

Deciding to stop worrying about it and simply enjoy himself, Harry Potter began eating.

HPHPHPHPHP

Severus Snape had known this day was coming.

He had tried to prepare himself for it, but even though he had, those eyes…those wretched green eyes!

The emerald green eyes of a small eleven-year-old boy with unruly dark hair and glasses with a lightening bolt scar upon his forehead, still managed to shatter his carefully calculated facade.

The boy had seen it, he was sure, even though he didn’t know what it meant.

Get a grip, Snape, he told himself furiously. He’s just a boy!

But even as he thought it, the Potions professor knew it was a lie.

Harry Potter wasn’t just any boy—and not because he was the stupid Boy-Who-Lived.

Severus snorted at the ridiculous title.

The Baby-Who-Lived more like, as the child had only been a year old at the time, and at what cost?

Nobody had stopped to care about the price that was paid, had they?

No one except him, of course.

No, Harry Potter was no ordinary boy because he was her boy—her son—and those green eyes only cemented the fact.

Severus gritted his teeth, trying to ignore the stab of pain in his heart—a heart he had thought he’d let grow cold.

But the moment he saw the boy, he knew that too was lie.

His heart could not grow cold as long as he still could love and he did still love her. How could he not?

And he also cared for her son, though he did not wish to.

As the Welcoming Feast ended, and the students began to pile out, one Harry James Potter turned back slightly, their gazes meeting for a third time.

Yes, Mr. Potter? Severus couldn’t help but think. Something I can do for you?

The boy frowned, but then turned back around and followed the rest of the student body out of the Hall.

Severus heaved a huge sigh of relief.

Unfortunately, he would be staring into those emerald orbs for the next nine months.

He had to find away to distance himself emotionally, otherwise he might lose his reputation as the ‘scariest, meanest git’.

And that, simply, would not do.

Welcome to Hogwarts, Harry Potter, Severus thought with a sigh.

It should prove to be an interesting year…for us both.

SSSSSSSS

In a private room, paid for by a mysterious benefactor, at St. Mungos Magical Maladies a red-haired woman lay in what appeared to be an enchanted slumber.

Not able to waken her, the staff had simply done there best to care for her—in the hopes that one day she’d awaken on her own.

Fed nutrient potions intravenously, her arms and legs exercised daily to keep them in shape, she only ever had one visitor—a dark haired man in a black suit and tie.

Upon her nightstand, he always left the same thing…

A single, perfect, lily.

Harry was excited—on this, his fifth day at Hogwarts.

It had been a pretty good week, so far. He enjoyed most of his classes, anyway.

Professor Flitwick, who taught Charms, was very easy to listen to and like.

Professor McGonagall was on tough old tabby, but she also taught an interesting subject: Transfiguration.

Professor Sprout, who taught Herbology, was a sweet tempered and awarded points to just about everybody!

Professor Binns, the only ghost teacher, taught History of Magic—boring as Hell, he was, but at least Harry got to nap during his class.

Professor Quirrel, the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, was a stuttering imbecile.

All he did was stutter and talk about off the wall subject rather than teach.

So far, that class had been the biggest let down—and he’d really been looking forward to it.

There’s still Potions this morning, he reminded himself. And Flying lessons this afternoon…

Of course, this meant he’d have to face Professor’s Snape’s intimidating stare again.

All this week, it was almost as if that dark stare never looked anywhere else but at him.

Why? Harry still had no idea.

He’d asked Ron about it, but all he said was that his brothers had told him that Snape wasn’t one to be crossed.

Harry believed it, after witnessing the tongue-lashing he’d given a fifth year Ravenclaw girl in the corridor one day.

He shuddered. That had been plain scary!

"Still worried about ole Snape?" Ron asked him, curiously, as he shoveled his breakfast into his mouth.

"Not really," Harry said, lying. "Why does he keep staring at me—I mean, I know everybody stares at me…but it’s different with him."

And everybody did stare at him—or rather, at his scar.

All week they had been doing it and he wished they’d cut it out.

He just wanted to be treated like a regular student, because that was what he was.

He didn’t remember doing anything that fateful night ten years before, except maybe crying a lot.

They should have called me The-Baby-Who-Lived, he thought with a snort. I was only one years old, for crying out loud!

Just then, the bell rang for everybody to start making their way to their first class of the day.

"C’mon, mate," Ron said, sighing. "We’d best get down to the dungeons. Fred and George said Snape tears strips off your hide if you’re late."

"We definitely don’t want that," Harry agreed, and the two of them began following everyone out of the Great Hall.

They arrived at the Potions classroom with a few minutes to spare, as it turned out, and entered the room.

"Where do you want to sit?" Harry asked Ron, curiously. "Up front, at the back, or in the middle?"

"Let’s go for the middle," Ron said. "We wouldn’t want to be confused with Granger, now would we?"

The mousy haired girl proved all week long that not only was she prepared for classes—she was overly prepared for them.

Every time a teacher asked a question, the first person to raise their hand was Hermione Granger.

"And Malfoy and his goons will probably sit in the back so they can goof off," Harry said, snorting.

The blonde haired boy had proved to be exceedingly snide and arrogant in all the classes they’d had with him.

He and his two over-stuffed body guards, Crabbe and Goyle, usually sat in the back of the class—mostly so that they could sabotage everybody else.

Everybody started to file in, then, so Harry and Ron quickly took their seats.

As predicted, Hermione sat at the very front of the class next to Neville Longbottom—who Harry thought might be a bit near-sighted since he always sat up front and yet anytime the teachers called on him became a quivering mess!

Malfoy (with Tweedle-dee and Tweedle-dumb in toe) took a seat at the back on the left side of the room.

Once everyone was in and had their books, quills, and parchment out, the doors opened again and Professor Snape strolled into the room.

The man’s long black robes swished out behind him, like a pair of black wings, as he made his way to the front.

Spinning around, he eyed each and every one of them with a piercing—some would say petrifying—gaze.

"All wands are to be put away and kept out of sight throughout this class," he told them, sternly. "There will be no foolish wand waving here! Potions is a delicate art, one that requires practice and the strictest concentration—a slight miscalculation, the wrong ingredient added at the wrong time, could prove disastrous…even, fatal."

Harry swallowed, hard, as those black eyes locked onto his once again—boring into him.

It’s like he’s staring right into my soul, he thought with a shudder. I wish he’d cut it out.

A sneering smirk curled the professor’s lips.

"Ah, yes," he said, crossing his arms over his chest. "Mr. Potter…our newest celebrity…"

This got a laugh out of the Slytherins, glares from the Gryffindors, and made Harry blush.

He quickly averted his gaze, refusing to meet the man’s cold stare.

"Tell me, Mr. Potter," Snape said, smirking, "what would you get if you added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?"

Almost automatically, Hermione’s hand shot into the air and began waving frantically.

Harry blinked, puzzled.

"I, uh, I don’t know," he answered, honestly. "Sir." This last was added as an after thought.

"How surprising?" Snape sneered. "Where would you look if I told you to find me a bezoar?"

Again, Hermione’s hand waved impatiently in front of him. Harry gulped.

"I don’t know that, either," he answered, shamefully. Hadn’t he read his text book before coming?

He thought he had, but apparently he’d missed some things somewhere…

Snape’s eyes narrowed into a scowl.

"They say third time’s the charm," he said, sneeringly. "Let’s see if it’s true. What is the difference between monkshood and wolfesbane, Mr. Potter?"

By now, Harry's face was red with embarrassment and his temper had started to flare up.

He glared at the potions professor.

"I don’t know," he growled, annoyed. "Sir. Why don’t you ask Hermione. She knows."

Snape eyebrows shot to his forehead and many of the Slytherins (and even a few of his fellow Gryffindors) gasped at his cheeky answer.

Nobody talks to Professor Snape like that, he heard a few whisper in awed (or pitying) tones.

"It seems, Mr. Potter, that you did not bother to prepare for class," Professor Snape told him, coldly. "For that you shall lose five points for Gryffindor and another five for your cheek."

Harry scowled at this, wanting to protest, but an eyebrow raised to convey ‘Was there something else?’ stopped him.

He’d only take more points, Harry thought angrily. It’s not fair! He shouldn’t be picking on me like this!

Snape continued to stare at him a moment, but then his gaze swept the entire class.

"My point exactly," he told them. "You must always be prepared for this class—otherwise, not only will you botch a potion, you may also do serious injury to yourself and everybody else. Is that understood?"

"Yes, Sir," the entire class answered immediately, without hesitation.

Snape had proved his point. He was in control here and they either did things his way or they failed.

Harry scowled at that. So much for liking potions now…

Snape flicked his wand and a recipe appeared on the blackboard.

"This is a Cure-All Boils potion," he informed them. "It is perhaps the simplest potion you can make—which is why it is the first one you shall be attempting to brew. The finished potion should look a powder blue in color—anything else will result in a zero for today. Get started!"

As they made their potion, the professor walked around commenting on their efforts.

He was hardest on the Gryffindors, Harry noticed, and every time he looked up he found those jet black orbs upon him.

He gritted his teeth and got through the rest of the lesson. Why did the man seem so interested him?

And why did it seem he had it in for him? What had he [Harry] ever done to him?

When the bell rang signaling the end of the lesson, Harry was relieved.

As he gathered up his books, quill, and parchment, he glanced up to once again find Professor Snape staring at him.

Ron noticed it too, apparently.

"C’mon, mate, cheer up," he told his best friend. "We’ve got flying next—that should be wicked, right?"

"Yeah," Harry agreed, forcing a smile on his face. "You’re right."

But as the two headed out of the classroom, he couldn’t help but glance back.

Professor Snape was no longer looking at him—instead he was staring at something in his hand.

Once again, Harry saw the same look of…pain?...on his face that he had the first night in the Great Hall.

Could he remind the professor of somebody? Somebody he had cared about? And lost…?

Sighing, Harry turned and walked out of the classroom. He’d figure it out later.

Right then, he needed to concentrate on learning to fly a broom.

But, surely, this class wouldn’t be so bad…

What could possibly go wrong, right?

HPHPHPHPHP

Well, Severus snorted to himself, you handled that real well. It seems you and the boy are off on the wrong foot already, Snape!

He hadn’t intentionally meant to ‘pick’ on the boy when he’d entered the classroom, but the moment he’d stared into those eyes of his he’d known if he didn’t do something he’d be distracted the entire class.

He couldn’t really blame Harry for his cheeky response there at the end, though he did not approve of it in any form or fashion—which is why he had taken points.

The boy could have at least attempted a guess, he thought to himself. Those questions are in the first chapter of the potions textbook, for Merlin’s sake!

At least he and the Weasley boy had managed to brew the potion correctly, which was more than could be said of their classmate Longbottom.

Alice and Frank would be appalled that their son is nothing more than quivering lump, Severus couldn’t help but think.

His grandmother has overprotected him, apparently.

Not that he could blame her, really, what with her only son and his wife lying in puddles of their own urine at St. Mungos in the psychiatric ward.

As the students began to file out, Severus took the pocket watch out of his pocket and glanced at the time.

On the inside of it, interchanging every few minutes were a picture of his mother, Eileen, and Lily.

Lily, Severus thought closing his eyes for a moment, how I wish you were here now...

Perhaps she could give him some insight as to how best to deal with her impudent brat of a son.

Sighing, Severus stood up and stretched his long legs.

He had about an hour or so before his next class of dunderheads, so he decided to take a walk around the grounds to clear his head—he might even stop off at Hagrid’s for a cup of tea.

He had not had a chance to visit the gentle giant since school had started, and he did enjoy his company (thought he’d never admit it to anyone).

After taking a few moments to get onto to Peeves the poltergeist, tongue-lash a couple of stray third years, and abort the Weasley twins’ latest prank, he headed out of the castle to get some fresh air.

As it so happened, he came upon Madame Hooch’s flying lesson.

Since half of the students were Slytherins, one of those being Draco Malfoy, and the other was Gryffindor (which meant Potter would be involved) he decided to keep to the shadows and watch for a bit.

Things were going nicely, he supposed, until Longbottom got over excited and took off prematurely.

The poor bumbling idiot bounced off the castle walls twice before landing hard on the ground.

Severus winced. And I thought he was dangerous in potions, he couldn’t help but think.

The boy managed to break his wrist and had to be carried to the hospital wing for healing.

This left more than a dozen eleven year olds alone—near brooms!

Now, I’ll definitely be keeping an eye on things, Severus thought to himself.

If Rowena Hooch actually thought they’d obey her flimsy command she had fewer bats in her bell tower than he gave her credit for.

And he was right.

The moment the flying instructor/quidditch director was out of sight, the little monsters got up to no good.

Draco Malfoy apparently found something Longbottom had dropped when he’d fallen, which he couldn’t help but commenting to his friends.

Friends, my ass, Severus thought snorting. Crabbe and Goyle are nothing but bodyguards!

Draco’s attitude since arriving at school, he noticed, reminded him strongly of that of James Potter.

And he [Severus] would put on a pink tutu and dance Swan Lake in front of the entire school before he’d let another spoiled bully have the run of the place.

Especially when said-bully was in his own House…and a member of his own family!

His taunting, of course, caused Potter—did the boy have to be the hero every time?—to issue a challenge.

A mischievous sneer crossed Draco’s face and Severus cringed. This would not end well, he was sure of it.

Unfortunately, before he could step out of the shadows and intervene before a fight broke out Draco had jumped onto his broom and taken flight.

And what was worse was that Potter—who Severus knew had never been on a broom in his life—actually followed him!

Severus felt his heart stop beating for a few seconds and he found himself frozen to the spot.

What was the little idiot thinking?

The two boys hovered above the ground, apparently swearing and name calling at each other.

Potter apparently said something that struck a nerve with Draco, Severus could tell, which caused a look of pure meanness to cross the young aristocrat’s face.

He threw Longbottom’s round Remembrall, for that was what he’d picked up, straight at the castle wall to smash it.

"Go fetch, Potty," Draco sneered at Potter and dove to land back on the ground.

Severus took a step forward, only to stop in his tracks again, as Potter—the foolish child—actually did go after the stupid toy!

He watched with his heart leaping into his throat as the boy flew straight at the castle wall, caught the small round object, and did an aerial acrobatic move that most professional broom riders couldn’t have done, and then dove to land.

He was greeted by cheers and applause.

Severus felt pure unadulterated rage feel his veins in that moment.

How dare the boy risk is life so needlessly—and for a child’s toy, no less!

He had missed smashing his brains all over the side of the castle by the skin of his teeth!

He’s about to get the skin taken off his backside when I get through with him, Severus thought fiercely.

He stepped out of the shadows and opened his mouth to shout at the boy when—

"Harry Potter!" Professor McGonagall called out from the other side, motioning for the dark haired boy to come to her.

Severus hissed. Damn the fool interfering old hag!

At least Potter will get some punishment, he thought as the Head of Gryffindor proceeded to escort the errant boy inside; scolding as she went.

Since there was nothing he could do about the Boy-Who-Lived at the moment, there was something he could do to a certain blonde haired Slytherin.

"Malfoy!" he shouted, gaining the boy’s attention. "To me!" He pointed to the ground in front of him.

Malfoy swaggered—for there was no other way to put it—to him, a smug grin on his young face.

Severus scowled at him, reaching out and latching onto his ear.

"Lose the smirk, young man," he told him, as he turned and proceeded to march him into the castle. "You are in very big trouble!"

"Ow! Professor!" Draco hollered. "That hurts! What did I do?"

"You know very well what you did, mister," Severus growled at him, as he headed for the dungeons. "Now, hush, until we get to my office!"

He marched the boy through the corridors and then down to the dungeons, where he proceeded into his office.

Slamming the door behind him, he quickly placed a silencing charm on it and then released Draco’s ear.

Rubbing his ear, Draco whined. "Uncle Sev," the boy complained, scowling. "Why’d you do that?"

"That’s Professor to you, Mr. Malfoy," Severus reminded him, sternly, "and you know damn well why I did that? You were showing off, Draco Lucius, and you deliberately disobeyed Madame Hooch—not to mention you endangered the life of a fellow student!"

Draco snorted at that, rolling his eyes.

"It was just stupid Potter," he told him, shrugging. "And I didn’t make him go after that wart Longbottom’s toy. He did that on his own!"

Severus scowled at him.

"You knew if you taunted him, he’d go," he told him, firmly, "and quit trying to weasel you’re way out of this, Draco. It’s not going to work."

"B-But.." Draco stammered. "C’mon!"

"That would have to be the most pathetic excuse I’ve ever seen and I expect better out of my little snakes, Draco," he reminded him. "Especially when the little snake in question is my own nephew!"

Yes, Draco Malfoy was his nephew—the son of his older half-brother, Lucius Malfoy.

When his mother, Eileen, had been seventeen she’d been forced into an arranged marriage to Lucius’ father, Abraxas—who was nothing more than a bully and wife beater.

She did her duty, by giving him a legitimate male heir, but then she could no longer stand his abuse any longer and fled the magical world completely.

Abraxas Malfoy then had their marriage annulled and eventually remarried a girl half his age.

At any rate, his mother eventually met his father—Tobias Snape—fell in love with him and married him.

When he [Severus] was born, Lucius was five years old.

No one knew this, of course, as the Malfoys would never allow such a scandal to be discovered—nor would the Princes, his mother’s family.

Even he, Severus, had not been aware of it until after his mother’s death when Lucius suddenly decided to play the part of the protective big brother.

He had his own reasons for this, of course—all of them not good.

However, Severus discovered it was true and whether he liked it or not was bound by blood to the smug-faced, bigoted git.

He loved Draco, however, and had vowed that the boy would not follow his father’s dark footsteps.

"Do you remember what I told you before the school year started?" Severus asked him, curiously.

Draco nodded.

"Yes, Sir," he answered. "You told me not to cause trouble, keep my head down, and do my best."

"And have you done those things, Draco?" Severus asked him, pointedly.

"Uh, well," the boy answered. "I’ve been doing my best in all my classes…"

Severus scowled.

"Yet you still can’t help prancing around as if you’re better than everybody else," he reminded him, "and this incident proves you aren’t staying out of trouble!"

Draco hung his head, not meeting his eyes. "I’m sorry," he mumbled, quietly.

Severus reached down and lifted his chin. "You shall be, dragonling," he promised him. "Take off your robe."

Draco’s eyes widened at that and he quickly shook his head.

"Y-You can’t!" he exclaimed. "We’re at school!"

"How perceptive of you," Severus snorted, "but I assure you, I can. Your mother gave me permission to use whatever means necessary in order to keep you in line, in fact."

Draco winced at that, but knew better than to try and argue further.

With a sigh, he placed robes across a chair and went to stand beside his uncle—who was also his godfather.

Severus sat down in an armless chair and then draped the eleven year old boy across his knee.

Raising his hand back, he began dishing out a well-earned smacking—making certain to cover ever inch of the small, squirming bottom.

By the tenth smack, Draco was sniffing. By the fifteenth, he was howling. By the twentieth, he was bawling.

Severus let him up off his knee and handed him a handkerchief. "Blow your nose," he instructed him, gently.

Draco did so, glancing up at him hesitantly.

"I really am sorry, Uncle Sev," he told him. "Uh, I mean, Professor." He absently reached back to rub his stinging bottom.

Severus stared down at him, but then smiled.

"I know, dragonling," he told him, gently. "Next time, you are to keep your feet firmly on the ground. Is that understood?"

Draco nodded. "I will, Sir," he told him. "I promise."

"That is a promise I will hold you to," Severus told him, firmly. "You will also be serving a detention with me tonight a seven o’clock."

Draco winced at that, but nodded. "Yes, Sir," he said, sighing.

Severus chuckled. "If you do not wish to do the time," he told him, "do not do the crime."

Draco rolled his eyes at that, as he put his robe back on. "Yeah, yeah," he said, sighing.

Severus shook his head. "Off with you now, scamp," he told him, ruffling his hair. "I have other business to attend to."

Draco nodded. "Yes, Sir," he said, and then turned to head out of the office.

Once he was gone, Severus sighed.

Between Draco and Potter, he was certain he was headed for an early grave!

And speaking of Potter…

A scowl on his face, remembering the reckless stunt the boy had pulled, he strolled from his office intent on finding McGonagall and discovering what heinous punishment she’d set the boy.

Knowing her, though, Severus scowled, she probably put him on the House Qudditch team!

SSSSSSSSSS

In the hospital room at St. Mungos, the red haired woman continued to slumber.

The nurses continued to come in and out, doing the exercises and changing the potions bags.

"And she has nobody?" one young nurse asked her mentor, as they checked on various patients.

"None except the man who visits her," her mentor replied.

"How long has she been here?" the younger woman asked, curiously.

"Ten years now," the older replied, sighing. "C’mon, we have three more to go and then we can go on break."

The other nodded and the two of the exited the room.

"Are you serious, ‘Arry?" Ron exclaimed, excitedly. "McGonagall really said that?"

Harry beamed, smiling. "Yep," he said, happily. "She even introduced me to Oliver Wood—the team captain!"

It was late afternoon, their last class of the day had ended, and it was nearing supper time.

"This is amazing!" Ron said, in disbelief. "You’ve got to be the youngest Seeker to ever play on a Hogwarts team!"

"The first in over a century," Harry told him. "At least, that’s what McGonagall said."

"Wicked!" Ron smiled. "Fred and George are on the team, too. They’re Beaters, though."

"Wood is supposed to practice with me on Saturday, teach me the ropes since I’ve never played before," Harry said, thoughtfully.

"After what you did this afternoon," Ron told him. "You might not need to practice, ‘Arry. What you did—catching Neville’s Remembrall—was…was…"

"Plain crazy," Hermione Granger spoke up, coming up to them, "if you ask me."

"Nobody did," Ron snapped, annoyed at the girl for barging in.

She ignored him.

"You could have been killed, Harry," she told him, quietly. "I’m really surprised you weren’t punished—though, I’m not surprised you’re a natural with a broom. It’s in your blood."

Harry frowned at that. "What do you mean?" he asked, curiously.

The young witch looked at him funny. "You mean you don’t know?" she asked him, wide-eyed.

"Obviously," Ron snorted. "Since he asked…"

Harry gave him a glare, which silenced him.

"C’mon," Hermione told him. "I’ll show you. Follow me." She then turned to head down the corridor.

Harry and Ron glanced at each other, but then shrugged and followed after her.

She led them to the Hogwarts trophy room, where she pointed to a trophy in the Gryffindor trophy case. "See, there?"

Harry glanced to where she was pointing. It read: MVP of the Year: James Potter (Captain/Chaser)

"Wow, ‘Arry," Ron said, smiling. "You didn’t tell me your dad was the captain of his team!"

Harry swallowed. "I didn’t know," he said, quietly. "I don’t know anything about my parents."

Hermione gasped, shocked. "Nothing at all?" she asked, stunned. "That’s so sad!"

Harry shrugged. "I’ve gotten used to it," he said, lying. "It kinda hard to have memories of people you’ve never known…"

Ron placed a hand on his shoulder. "I’m sure if you’re dad were here," he told him. "He’d be damn proud of you."

"You think so?" Harry asked, hopefully. "Really?"

"I know so," his best mate told him, grinning. "C’mon, let’s go tell everybody the good news!"

Harry nodded, taking one final glance at the trophy in the case. So, Quidditch was in his blood.

That was a good thing.

Still, he wished he could know a little bit more about his dad—and his mum, too.

HPHPHPHP

Severus watched the three Gryffindors leave, with a thoughtful expression on his face.

He had not intentionally meant to eavesdrop, but he had been taking a short cut when they’d entered.

Not trusting himself to not throttle the boy then and there for his outrageous stunt—since McGonagall had failed to do so—he had ducked into the shadows to wait until they left.

He’d heard quite clearly what Harry had said.

Harry deserved to know his parents—especially his mother—and he supposed since no one else was going to do it, it would have to fall to him.

Heading out of the trophy room and back to his quarters, he removed his black robes and hung them up.

Rolling up the sleeves of the white dress shirt he wore and slipping out of his boots, he strolled into his bedroom.

Opening the small trunk at the foot of his bed, he began to dig through it. At last, he found what he was looking for.

Tucking it under his arm, he walked back into the sitting room.

Starting a fire, via a flick of his wand, he ordered himself a glass of hot cider from the kitchens and then sat down in his favorite chair.

Setting the small leather-bound book on his lap, he blew the dust off the cover of it.

It had been nearly ten years since he had last looked at it, ever since that night in Godric’s Hollow…

Opening it, he smiled as the first thing he saw was a picture of Lily.

Garbed in a long white gown, her red hair pulled back on one side by a comb in the shape of a lily, and carrying a bouquet of lilies, she was utterly breathtaking.

Turning the page, he found a much younger looking version of himself—garbed in a black high collared tunic that reached to his knees and black trousers—his long black hair pulled into a tail at the nap of the neck—standing beside the radiant Lily.

These pictures were from their wedding, fifteen years ago.

Severus sighed, swallowing as the familiar pain of loss and anguish swept over him.

Memories flooded into his mind—memories he so desperately wished to forget…

Tears welled in Severus’ eyes, remembering how happy they had been on that day and many days after that.

Even when…

The tears fell down his cheeks, but Severus didn’t even bother to brush them aside.

It had been too long since he’d last allowed himself to cry…and remember.

It was long over due.

Even returning to the dark world of the Death Eaters, he and Lily had three more years of wedded bliss.

But then came that awful battle, the one in which he’d been hit with a powerful stunning curse that had left him in a magical coma for half a year.

It had finally worn off, but by then…

A sob escaped him, and he found himself on the verge of again bawling his eyes out.

Quickly composing himself, Severus stood up and set the wedding album on the table beside his chair.

He would eventually tell Potter about him and his mother, allow the boy to get to know the woman he had loved and cherished, but not tonight.

No, tonight he was going to bed.

And he prayed he did not dream of that night—ten years before—at Godric’s Hollow.

SSSSSSSSS

At St. Mungos, the red haired woman remained in slumber.

She did not stir, did not move, and one had to look very closely to see that she was still even breathing.

However, from her left eye a single tiny tear drop fell…

It was Halloween, and Harry couldn’t quite believe that he had been at Hogwarts now for two months.

A lot had happened in that time, too.

He, Ron, and Hermione Granger had discovered that the reason the third floor was off limits was because it was guarded by a large three headed dog.

They’d also found out that a vault was broken into at Gringotts on the day of his birthday, the day he and Hagrid had been there...the same vault Hagrid had gotten the mysterious 'package' from.

Hagrid, albeit unwittingly, had told him and Ron that the ‘package’ he had delivered was what was hidden on the Third Floor…which was what Fluffy (the threed headed dog's name!) guarded...and that it had something to do with a man named Nicholas Flamel.

They had decided to try and discover just who Flamel was, as it might possibly give them a clue to what the 'package' was.

Harry had also began to practice with the Gryffindor Quidditch team.

Oliver Wood was really impressed with him, as the team’s new Seeker.

"You’re a natural, Potter," the Keeper/team captain told him after their first practice, with a firm pat on the back. "We’re gonna wipe the floor with those snakes this year, for sure!"

Harry had beamed at that and felt really proud of himself.

It was the first time he could remember anyone ever praising him for something.

Well, except for his teachers…all of them except Snape, that is.

Things in potions had not improved, the Head of Slytherin still continued to be hard on them—especially him—but there was also still that something in his eyes whenever he looked at him.

And, of course, his eyes seemed to be on him all the time—but, oddly enough, he was getting used to it.

That night in the Great Hall, there was going to be a huge feast to celebrate the occasion and Harry was really looking forward to it.

"C'mon, 'Arry," Ron told him, "we're gonna miss breakfast!"

Harry smiled. Ron always hated the idea of being late for any meal.

Sometimes, he thought his best friend's whole life revolved around his stomach!

Luckily for Ron, they didn't miss breakfast and once it was all over, they headed to their Charms' class.

"Today, class," Professor Flitwick, who due to his small size had to teach while standing on a pile of books, told them, "we are going to be covering levitating objects. Now then, you have in front of you a single feather. This is the object you will be attempting to levitate. The incantation is a simple one but you must say it exactly right. Repeat after me, please. Wingardium Leviosa!"

They all did so, watching how he twirled his wand as he spoke the words and then flicked it sharply at the end.

"The movement is also very important," Flitwick told them, smiling. "Just remember to 'swish and flick' and you'll do fine. Now, you lot have a go at it. Go on!"

Over and over again, each student tried to get their feather to levitate. Poor Neville actually made his explode, trying so hard.

Harry glanced at Ron, who was getting red with frustration.

"You're doing it wrong," Hermione Granger told him, sighing. "It's Wing-gar-di-um Lev-i-osa. You have to stress the syllables. Like this: Wingardium Leviosa!"

She swished and flicked her wand and the feather began to float and dance in the air.

"Oh, goodness me, see here," Flitwick said, happily. "Ms. Granger has done it! Fifteen points to Gryffindor!"

All the Gryffindors smiled at this, all except one. Ron.

"Did you hear her in there?" he complained to Harry as they were leaving class. "It's Wing-gar-di-um Lev-i-osa! Honestely, 'Arry, the girl is just not right in the head! It's no wonder she ain't got no friends 'sides her stinkin' books!"

Just then, Hermione shoved past them with her head down. It looked like she was crying.

Harry and Ron exchanged a glance. "I think she heard you," he told his friend, quietly.

Ron snorted. "Good," he said, sniffing. "Maybe she'll quit being a prissy know-it-all now!"

Harry nodded, but he wasn't really agreeing with him.

Feeling eyes upon him, he glanced toward the doorway that led to the dungeons and found Professor Snape standing there.

Once again, he was leveling him with a penetrating gaze--only this time, it made Harry feel exceedingly guilty for some reason.

Not liking this feeling at all, he quickly averted his gaze from the stern-looking man and said, "C'mon, let's go."

Ron nodded and the two of them headed on to the next class, but Harry knew those dark eyes followed them all the way down the corridor.

That night, the Great Hall was decorated for the holiday and it looked magnificent.

Everybody was excited, even the professors.

Snape looked gloomier than ever, or maybe even more so, tonight.

I wonder why? Harry frowned. He was still no closer to figuring the dark clad man out.

Just then, the evening mail arrived and Harry was surprised when his snowy owl Hedwig landed in front of him with a folded piece of parchment.

Harry took it, offering Hedwig some of his chicken in thanks, and unfolded it.

It read: Your parents would have wanted you to enjoy this night with your friends, but do not forget the price that was paid for that enjoyment.

The note was not signed and Harry did not recognize the handwriting.

He thought a moment, and then his eyes grew wide.

Of course, it had now been exactly ten years ago that his parents had been killed.

On this very night, at their home, when He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named came for them.

I almost forgot, he thought to himself sadly.

He felt a lump rise in his throat and foud himself glancing up at the teacher table.

Just as he thought, Professor's Snape's dark eyes were upon him once more...staring at him intently.

Could he have sent the note?

Harry folded the note and put it in his pocket. He would do what it said.

He'd enjoy tonight, but he wouldn't ever forget again to honor his parents in some way on this night.

Tonight, all he could do was offer a simple prayer asking that they understand and thanking them for their sacrifice.

It wasn't much...but at least it was sincere.

"You okay, mate?" Ron asked him, from where he was busy eating two turkey legs similtaneously.

"Uh, yeah," Harry told him, and then glanced around. "Hey, where's Hermione?"

It just dawned on him that he had not seen or heard the mousy girl since Charms that morning.

Ron scowled. He still had not forgotten what happened, either.

"Who cares?" he snorted. "She's probably up in her room studying!"

"Nuh uh," Neville told them. "One of the girls said she's been in the girl's bathroom all day today...crying!"

Harry swallowed, feeling that guilty feeling again.

He glanced at Ron, who seemed to have gone a very interesting shade of red.

"Maybe you should have apologized, mate," Harry told him, honestly. "You were kinda rough on her."

Ron sighed. "Fine," he said, looking sour. "I'll go after the feast..."

Just then, however, the doors of the Great Hall flew open and Professor Quirell came running in with his purple turban all askew.

"Troll!" he shouted, hoarsely. "Troll in the castle--d-down in the d-dungeon! J-Just t-thought y-you'd like to know..." He then promptly fainted.

All Hell broke loose at that point. Boys began shouting. Girls began screaming and crying. The teachers began rising from their chairs to make their way of the Hall.

It took Professor Dumbledore shooting fireworks from the end of his wand to regain everybody's attention.

"Prefects, escort your Housemates back to your dorms," the Headmaster ordered, sternly. "Everyone is to remain in their common rooms until your Head comes to inform you of the situation. All teachers should head to the dungoens immediately!"

As everyone began to file out of the Great Hall, Harry couldn't help but notice that Professor Snape had disappeared somewhere during the comotion.

Unfortunately, an even horrible thought filled his mind at that. "Ron!" he hissed, grabbing his friends arm tightly.

"Ow! 'Arry, that hurt!" Ron said, scowling him. "What is it?"

"Hermione, Ron," Harry told him, rolling his eyes. "She doesn't know about the troll!"

"So?" Ron asked, rubbing his arm and scowling.

Just then, a loud roar occurred, causing everybody to jump.

"Everybody," Percy Weasley, Ron's older brother and who was also a prefect, "move faster...but in an orderly fashion."

Harry gave Ron a look.

"So," he told him, snorting. "The troll could leave the duneons. What if it finds her before she can get back to the Tower?"

Ron bit his lip. He was really feeling guilty now about the things he'd said to the Muggleborn witch.

"C'mon, 'Arry," he whispered, "before Percy sees us. Let's go get 'er."

Harry nodded, he'd been thinking the same thing. The two boys quickly ducked out of line and headed for the girl's bathroom.

Unfortunately, a loud crash greeted them just as they reached. A loud crash...followed by a girl's scream.

Harry and Ron glanced at each other, horrified. "The troll!" they said at the same time. "Hermione!"

With that, and not really stopping to think things through, they dashed into the girl's bathroom.

Hermione was cowering in the corner, using the sinks as a form of protection.

The troll was huge, ugle, and smelled worse than a manure pile! It brandished a club and destroyed tow of sinks.

Water was going everywhere, the bathroom was quickly feeling with water.

Harry didn't even bother to plan out his next move. "Hey, ugly!" he yelled, and then leapt onto the troll's back.

The troll did not appreciate giving him a piggy-back ride and began thrashing about wildly trying to dislodge him.

To make matters worse, Harry then jabbed his wand up the creatures bulbous nose--causing it to roar in rage.

Suddenly, it managed to grab Harry's leg and pull him from its back.

Dangling upside down and being shaken like a rag doll, Harry shouted, "Ron! Do something before it kills me, you idiot!"

Ron, who had been frozen with fear, suddenly realized his friends needed him.

"Uh, right," he said, swallowing. "Wingardium Leviosa!"

He pointed his wand at the troll's club and magical pulled it from its grasp.

He then levitated it above the creature's head and brought it down upon it.

The troll dropped Harry onto the sogging wet floor of the bathroom and then promptly fell back...knocked out cold.

"I-Is it dead?" Hermione asked, as she crawled out from under the sinks.

"Just knocked out, I think," Harry told her, getting up and retrieving his wand. "Ugh! Troll buggies!"

He quickly wiped his wand off, but then glanced at Ron. "Good job, mate," he told him.

"See?" Hermione told him. "I told you all you had to do was stress the syllables." She started laughing, relieved to be alive apparently.

Harry and Ron glanced at each other and then promptly burst out laughing. Who'd have thought she'd ever make a joke!

Unfortunately, their laughter was cut short as Professor McGonagall, Professor Quirell, and Professor Snape raced into the room.

"What the...?" Professor McGonagall gasped, shocked to see the three first years near the unconscious troll.

Harry, however, found he was more concerned with Professor Snape.

The man's black eyes were all but smoldering...the look of utter rage on them was so terrifying he was afraid the man was going to explode.

"What is the meaning of this?!' McGonagall growled, finding her voice again. "What are you three doing here?"

Harry and Ron glanced at each other, but before they could answer Hermione beat them to it.

"It was my fault, Professor," she told the older witch. "I went looking for the troll, you see."

"You what?" McGonagall declared, outraged. "You foolish girl! Why in Merlin's name would you do that?"

"Because," Hermione lied, "I-I read about them, you see, and I thought I could handle it...but I was wrong. Harry and Ron saved my life, Professor."

Harry and Ron were trying very hard not to hang their mouths open.

Hermione Granger was actually lying to a professor!

"Young lady, I half a mind to..." McGonagall growled, looking furious, but then sighed. "But I am too tired. Therefore, for your utter lack of regard for your own safety, Miss Granger, you will lose five points for Gryffindor. And as for you two boys...you shall be awarded five points each. For sheer dumb luck, if nothing else!"

"Minerva!" Snape shouted, his black eyes bulging. "You can't be serious! They risked their fool necks needlessly!"

"It was not needlessly, Severus," McGonagall told him, smirking. "They did save Miss Granger's life and take down a full grown mountain troll, to boot. Not many first years could have done that."

Snape looked like he wanted to smack the older witch, but restrained himself.

Instead, he focuses his gaze upon Harry.

Harry swallowed. There was that look again...the one he'd given him that afternoon.

Was it...disappointment?

"Return to the Tower immediately, you three," McGonagall informed them. "We shall handle this from here."

"Yes, Ma'am," all three said and quickly scampered out of the bathroom.

Harry made sure he did not dare look Professor Snape in the eye as he passed him.

Once outside, Hermione turned to him and Ron. "So?" she said, holding out her hand. "Friends?"

Harry smiled, placing a hand on top of hers. "Friends," he said, and then they both glanced at Ron.

Ron smiled.

"Anybody who can lie to a teacher without blinking, Granger," he told Hermione, "is all right in my book. Friends." He placed his on top of theirs.

Wow, Harry thought as they made their way back to Gryffindor Tower, now I have two best friends!

This had been the best Halloween of his life!

HPHPHPHPHPHP

Severus winced as he applied a healing salve to leg. Damn that three headed monstrosity Hagrid had the nerve to call a 'pet'!

When Quirell had announced there was troll in the castle and knowing that the only way it could have gotten in was if someone--and he had his strong suspicions who that was--had let it in, he knew there was trouble afoot.

He also knew that this could not have been some foolish child's Halloween prank, as trolls were dangerous and no student would dare try and ensnare one.

He'd headed to the third floor to guard it, in case someone did try and get the 'package' guarded there.

Unfortunately, in his haste, he had forgotten about the three headed guard dog and thus had been bitten for his troubles.

Sighing, as he rolled down his pants leg, he reached for his jacket and put it on.

Straightening his tie, he glanced at himself in the mirror.

Dressed in a black suit and tie, he had pulled his hair back into a tail at the nap of his neck.

Given all the excitement, he was almost afraid he wasn't going to be able to go this year...but luckily the troll was taken care of quickly.

When he and McGonagall and Quirell (though he was utterly useless with his whimpering and whining) had entered that bathroom and saw those three children, he'd felt his heart leap into his throat again.

It took ever ounce of his will power not to march over to the dark haired Gryffindor and tan the living daylights out of him!

And as far as that cock-n-bull story Granger told Minerva...he didn't buy it for a second.

The girl was lying...no doubt covering for the two boys...

And then Minerva had the nerve to actually award them points for the reckless escapade!

He'd wanted to smack her for it, too, but had wisely kept his mouth shut.

Potter had noticed the look he'd given him, he was sure of it.

Now, what the two boys managed to do--taking down the troll--was impressive, he'd give them that, but it still had been a needless and reckless act.

Severus sighed. No use dwelling on it, he supposed. He had appointment to keep, after all.

Picking up the remaining item he needed, a single lily, he turned and headed out of his quarters.

Once he was able to, he apparrated to St. Mungos Hospital for Magical Maladies and headed up to the fifth floor.

"Hello, Sir," an older nurse, the same one who was on duty every Halloween at this time, greeted him pleasantly. "I've been expecting you."

He nodded. "My thanks, Gretchen," he told her, as they headed down the corridor towards room number seven. "Long night?"

"The same as usual," Nurse Gretchen told him, smiling. "My grandkids stopped by to see me on their way to trick-or-treating."

"How are they?" Severus asked, curiously. He'd always liked Nurse Gretchen and her overly large family by extension.

"Growing like weeds, they are," the plump mediwitch said, happily. "My eldest will be attending Hogwarts next year."

"I will be sure to keep an eye on him for you, then," Severus told her, smiling. "How is she?"

They had stopped at the closed door of room number seven.

"The same," Nurse Gretchen said, sighing. "Though she did look as if she had a bit more color in her cheeks today...I reminded her she'd have a visitor tonight."

Severus smiled at that. "Thank you, Gretchen," he told her. "I won't stay long."

The mediwitch nodded. "You know where to find me," she told him, winking.

With that, she turned and headed back down the corridor to her station.

Severus swallowed, glancing at the closed door, but then he gathered up his nerve and opened it.

Entering it, he found a petite young woman about his age with long red hair lying in the hospital bed.

Had her eyes not been closed in a magically induced slumber, he knew they would have shined brightly.

"Hello, Lily," he spoke to her, quietly. "It's me....but I suppose you already know that, eh?" He chuckled.

"It's Halloween," he told her, "and you know what that means. The little monsters stuffed their faces with loads of sweets. I'm sure Pomfrey will be calling me later tonight for some indegestion tonic..."

He reached out and took her hand, feeling its warmth. He smiled.

"Harry's started Hogwarts this year, love," he told her, quietly. "He's doing well, though he is a bit too reckless. I'm going to have to do something about that, I think. Do you know what he and his friends did tonight? They took on a full grown mountain troll...and won! Can you believe it?"

He paused, biting his lip.

"He's also going to play Quidditch," he told her. "I bet Potter is jumping for joy in the Here After. His first match is this Saturday. I'll have to write you about it and have Gretchen read it to you, won't I?"

He sighed, running out of things to say. He always did during these visits. 

"Oh, Lily," he whispered to her. "How I miss you...how I wish you were here with me now. Maybe your son wouldn't be driving me to distraction then, eh?"

He swallowed. Staring at her sleeping form, unsure what else to say.

Even after all these years, he still could not forget that night...ten years ago this very night...at Godric's Hollow...

Severus remembered how hard he tried to revive her, using ever spell he knew and every potion he could concoct, but finally realized that whatever charm she had used to protect her son had somehow protected her, as well.

Instead of slaying her, the Killing Curse only put her into an enchanted slumber.

When he realized he could not waken her, he decided to bring her to St. Mungos...where she could be looked after properly.

He had paid for everything and continued to do so to this day. He visited her five times each year.

On her birthday. On the anniversay of thier wedding. On Harry's birthday. On Halloween. And on Christmas.

In ten years time, he had never once failed to visit her.

Standing up, he smiled.

"And I never shall," he promised her, bending down to place a gentle kiss upon her lips. "Nor will I ever give up hope you shall come back to me one day. Goodnight, my beautiful Lily."

Placing his usual gift--a single, perfectly shaped lily--upon the nightstand he turned and exited the room.

"Goodnight, Gretchen," he told the mediwitch as he passed her station. "Happy Halloween."

"To you, too, Sir," the mediwitch called after him. "See you at Christmas!"

He waved, acknowleging her, and then apparated back to Hogwarts.

SSSSSSSSS

When Nurse Gretchen came into check on her patients before her shift ended, she couldn't help but notice the small smile that played across the red haired young woman's face.

"Well," she said, smiling. "I'll be..."

Word quickly spread the next day about how Harry and Ron had rescued Hermione Granger from the troll.

They suddenly found themselves—well, Ron did, anyway—in the spotlight.

By now, Harry had grown used to his schoolmates’ looks, whispers, and awed silences.

Ron, however, loved it. He practically glowed with pride when ever someone said, ‘Hey, Weasley, nice job with that troll!"

Being the youngest of six brothers, it was very rare that he got any recognition for his accomplishments—though his mum and dad did make an effort to treat all their kids equally.

It was just when one brother was a dragon-tamer, one was a Cursebreaker, and the other was a school prefect with excellent marks there didn’t seem to be enough ‘pride’ to go around.

Even the twins, though their accomplishments were more notorious, got more attention usually than he did.

Then there was Ginny, his little sister, who was the first Weasley girl born in seven generations.

Even she managed to outshine him, it seemed.

But now, for once, he was in the spotlight and it made him feel good—that and the fact he knew they’d done a good thing by helping a friend.

"I can’t believe you complain about this, mate," Ron told Harry after about their third class of the day. "It’s bloody wicked!"

Harry smiled. "Wait a week or two," he told him, smirking, "then let’s talk. I rather liked being famous too, at first, but then it just got out of hand. Everybody keeps watching me to see when I’m going to do something bloody fantastic!"

"Taking down a full grown mountain troll is pretty fantastic, Harry," Hermione told him, smiling. "So is rescuing a friend…"

Harry blushed at that. "I know," he told her, "but it’s like they think I’m some kind of superhero or something…and I’m not. I’m just…me."

"Well, you are the one who took out the Darkest wizard in history," Ron reminded him, grinning.

Harry snorted. "Yeah, when I was a baby!" he told him, giving him a playful shove. "It’s isn’t like I actually remember doing it. Bloody hell, I didn’t do anything—except pee my nappy!"

Ron snickered at this. "Wicked," he told him, smirking. "Gross, but wicked!"

Hermione rolled her eyes, shaking her head. "Boys," she muttered, sighing.

Harry and Ron exchanged glances and then shrugged. Girls! Who could figure them out?

As they turned the corner, they found themselves nearly running into Professor Snape.

"Enjoying yourselves, are we?" he asked them, sneeringly. "Basking in all the glory and whatnot?"

"Uh," Harry said, swallowing. Why did the man have to have such an imposing stare? "Not really…Sir."

Snape snorted. "Impressive though your little adventure last  night was," he told them, sternly, "it was still reckless and irresponsible! If you were in my House—at the very least you’d be serving a week long detention right now!"

With that, the tall man brushed past them—his black robes again billowing out behind him like bat’s wings.

Ron snorted and gave his retreating back a rude gesture, causing Harry to snicker and Hermione to gasp.

"Mean ole bat," the red head growled, sourly. "What would he know? How can saving somebody’s life be ‘reckless and irresponsible’?"

"Well, you must admit," Hermione said, matter-of-factly, "that you didn’t really have it all planned out when you came to my rescue."

"There wasn’t any time!" Ron argued, grumpily. "What did you want us to do? Let the troll rip off your arms while we ‘planned’ how to make it stop?"

"We still should probably have gotten a teacher, Ron," Harry told him, quietly. "I mean, I know there wasn’t much time…but I think that’s what’s got Snape in a snit. To him, we’re just kids and should have let an adult handle it."

"We are kids," Hermione reminded him, smiling.

"Yeah," Ron said, puffing himself up, "but we’re kids who took out a full grown mountain troll all on our own."

"Big, flippin’ deal!" a snide voice sneered and they turned around to find Draco Malfoy and his two goons standing there.

Harry sighed.

He was so hoping they wouldn’t run into the arrogant brat—especially since they didn’t have any classes with the Slytherins today.

"You think taking down a creature that’s even dumber than you, Weasley, is actually impressive!" Malfoy sneered. "As if!"

Ron’s face turned red with anger.

"Sod off, Malfoy," he growled at the blonde haired boy. "Nobody asked you!"

Malfoy smiled, knowing he’d hit a button.

"What?" he taunted. "Not enough attention at home? Mummy and Daddy too busy with all those kids of theirs and no money to feed them that they don’t have time for poor little Ronny!"

Ron would have gone for the other boy, had Harry and Hermione not stopped him.

"He’s just baiting you, Ron," Hermione told him, scowling at Malfoy coldly. "He isn’t worth getting a detention over…or losing the points you got for us."

"She’s right, mate," Harry said. "Let’s just go…"

"Ooh," Malfoy smirked at Crabbe and Goyle. "Looks like perfect Potter isn’t so perfect after all! He needs a girl to fight his battles for him!"

Harry glared at the brat. "Shove it, Malfoy," he growled, with clenched fists.

Malfoy snorted, but then smirked wickedly.

"’Course, that’s how it’s always been, isn’t Potter?" the Slytherin, sneered. "Mummy had to protect you from the big bad wizard too, didn’t she?"

That did it. Screw it, Harry thought angrily. He pulled out his wand and pointed it at Malfoy.

"Shut your stinkin’ hole, Malfoy," he growled, "before I hex you into next week!"

"Harry, no!" Hermione gasped, glancing around quickly to see if any teachers were about.

"I’m not dumb enough to fight you here, Potter," Malfoy snorted, rolling his eyes.

Harry lowered his wand. "Name the time and place, then, and we’ll settle this once and for all," he told him, fiercely.

Malfoy eyes lit up at that. "Tonight, at midnight," he told him. "The Forbidden Forest!"

Hermione turned pale as a ghost, and so did Crabbe and Goyle, who couldn’t believe they were even thinking about dueling each other.

Harry, however, refused to be cowed.

"Meet me at the entrance, then," he told him. "If you don’t show up—we’ll know who the real coward is."

"You tell him, mate," Ron smiled, proudly.

Malfoy’s nostrils flared and his face turned as red as Ron’s.

"No one calls a Malfoy a coward, Potter," he told Harry. "I’ll be there, and we’ll just see who the better wizard is."

Harry nodded. "Yeah," he told him, "we will. C’mon, guys."

With that, he shoved past the three Slytherins and headed down the corridor.

"Harry, you can’t do this!" Hermione told him, frantically. "You’ll be expelled for sure—dueling and being in the Forbidden Forest!"

"Ah, Hermione," Ron said, sighing. "You just don’t understand anything!"

"I understand there are things worth fighting for," Hermione told him, flatly. "And this isn’t one of them."

"He insulted my mother, Hermione," Harry told her, flatly. "I’m doing it. End of story."

Hermione swallowed, hard, and tears sprang to her eyes.

"Have it your own way, then," she told him. "But don’t say I didn’t warn you…"

She then turned and ran down the corridor.

"Girls!" Ron snorted, shaking his head. "They don’t understand us blokes at all, do they?"

Harry nodded, knowing he’d hurt Hermione’s feelings but he wouldn’t back out of this.

Tonight at midnight, Malfoy, he thought to himself savagely. You’re going down!

The rest of the day he was on edge, and found it very hard to concentrate in the remainder of his classes.

At supper that night, he barely ate anything. He refused to glance up at the staff table, knowing full well Snape was eyeing him as usual, and was afraid the dark clad man would know something was afoot.

Hell, he wouldn’t put it past Malfoy not to rat him out just to see him get into trouble—except that he’d known he’d hit the blonde haired Slytherin right where it hurt the most: his overly large pride.

He’d show up, he was sure of it. I just hope I can beat him, he couldn’t help but worry. After all, Malfoy had been learning spells and hexes his whole life while he had only been learning for a little over two months.

Most of the spells he knew were defensive in nature, and those he’d learned from reading his DADA—since Quirell was such a waist as a teacher.

Hermione, pointedly, sat on the other side of Neville—ignoring both him and Ron.

That was fine by Harry, who couldn’t quite bring himself to look the mousy haired witch in the eye, anyway.

Ron, however, didn’t seem the least bit concerned.

"You’re gonna make that prat eat his words, ‘Arry," he told him, confidently, as they prepared for bed later that night.

Well, Ron got ready for bed—he merely put his pajamas on over some blue jeans and a t-shirt.

He, Ron, Neville, and their other dorm-mates then spent a delightful hour before it was time to go to bed having a pillow fight.

Ron had started it—by throwing his pillow at Harry first—more than likely to help calm his friend’s nerves.

"You’ll do okay," the red head assured him as the bell sounded for lights out. "Are you sure you don’t want me to come with you?"

Harry nodded.

"If Malfoy flakes and I get caught out of bed," he told him, "then it’ll just be me in for it—no since us both getting expelled, right?"

"Give him a hex for me, okay?" Ron smirked, patting him on the back.

Harry nodded, then crawled into bed as the light’s were turned off and everyone began to fall asleep.

He waited until he certain all the other boys were asleep and then he crawled out of bed and shucked off his pajamas.

Quickly pulling on his old ratty trainers (hand-me-downs from his cousin Dudley naturally) he grabbed his wand and out of his dorm.

As he was making his way down to the common room, however, a hand reached out and grabbed him.

It was Hermione. "Please, Harry, be careful," she told him, gently. "You and Ron are the first real friends I’ve ever had…"

Harry smiled. "You guys are mine, too," he told her, quietly. "I’ll be careful. I promise."

She nodded, but then thrust a piece of paper at him. "I know you don’t many hexes," she told him. "I wrote these down—maybe they’ll help."

Harry unfolded the parchment and smiled.

It read: Spells to Help Harry: 1. Disarming Hex—Expelliarmus 2. Water Charm—Aguamenti 3. Leg-Locker Curse—Locomotor Mortis

"Thanks, Hermione," he told her, appreciatively. "These’ll help for sure."

"Just remember, Harry," Hermione told him. "It’s very important to use your opponents weakness against him, if at all possible. Malfoy is proud and easily angered—make him lose focus and he won’t be able to deflect any of your spells and return fire. I’d recommend using the ‘water charm’ first, followed by the ‘disarming hex’, and finishing him with the ‘leg-locker curse’."

Harry beamed at her. "Brilliant!" he told her. "B-But I thought you didn’t—"

"I don’t," Hermione told him, "and I still think you’re making a huge mistake…but since I can’t change your mind the least I can do is help you put the arrogant snot in his place, right?"

"Right," Harry said, glad more than ever that he and Ron had befriended the overly bookish girl now. "I, uh, I’d better be going…"

Hermione nodded, biting her lip. He could see there were tears in her eyes.

"Be safe," she told him, throwing her arms around him and then quickly pecked him on the cheek before turning and racing back to her dorm.

Harry blinked, watching her go. Then, he sighed. "Girls," he said, shaking his head. He then turned to head for the portrait hole.

"And just where do you think you are going, young man?" The Pink Lady, the painting that hid the door to the Gryffindor Tower, asked him as he exited.

"None of your business," he told her, plainly. "Now, shush." With that, he quickly hurried down the corridors.

He knew that Filch, the school’s caretaker, and his feline familiar—Mrs. Norris—just loved catching students out of bed.

He intended to avoid both of them at all costs.

He also had heard that Snape also patrolled the halls sometimes, eager to dock points and give detentions.

Harry definitely did not want to have to explain himself to the Potions Master.

Making it to the entrance without being seen, he ducked behind a statue to wait for Malfoy.

He was rather surprised—as he was almost certain Malfoy would try and weasel out of it or at least bring his thugs with him—when the blonde haired Slytherin showed up on time and alone.

He stepped out where he could see him. "You ready, Malfoy?" he asked him, scowling.

"To wipe the floor with you, Potter?" Malfoy sneered. "Always!"

"We’ll see about that," Harry growled, though he kept his temper in line.

If he could use Malfoy’s pride against him, then he was certain Malfoy would try and use every dirty trick he knew against him, as well.

Making certain the coast was clear, and that Peeves the poltergeist was nowhere around, the two eleven year olds made their way out of the castle and headed for the Forbidden Forest.

They stopped right at the edge of it. The Forest looked spooky during the day, but at night it looked down right…well, forbidding!

"H-How far do you think we should going before we duel?" Malfoy asked him, obviously trying to hide the quiver in his voice.

Harry shrugged. "Not too far," he said, "but far enough we can’t be seen from the castle."

Malfoy nodded, and the two boys entered the forest. They walked about a hundred yards in or so before they stopped.

"Okay," Harry said, "how do you want to do this?"

Malfoy frowned at him. "What do you mean?" he asked him, giving him a puzzled look.

"Well, I don’t really know how duels are done here," Harry said, "but Muggles generally start back to back, walk ten paces away from each other, spin, and then let each other have it."

Malfoy nodded. "Sounds about right to me," he said, "but not tricks, Potter!"

"If anybody has to worry about somebody cheating, Malfoy," Harry told him, turning his back to the other boy. "It’s me. Now shut up and let’s do this."

Malfoy nodded and turned around.

Drawing their wands, they began walking away from each other, counting as they went.

When they reached ten, they spun, and leveled their wands at each other—

However, before either one could speak an incantation a loud cry sounded in the quiet night…causing both to jump.

"W-What was that?" Malfoy stammered, wide-eyed. He was looking around frantically, trying to find any sign of what had made the noise.

"It was probably just a bear or something," Harry said, shrugging. "C’mon, let’s do this." He raised his wand…

Then, the cry sounded again.

"There are no bears in this forest, Potter!" Malfoy growled at him. "It’s a magic forest. Every creature in here is in some way magical—don’t you know anything?!"

Harry bristled at that. "I know you’re the world’s biggest arse-hole," he muttered under his breath.

The cry sounded a third time, and this time it actually sounded like it was pretty close by.

The duel forgotten for a moment, Harry frowned.

"Do you think an animal is hurt or something?" he asked, also forgetting for a moment who he was speaking to.

"I, uh, I guess it could be," Malfoy said, hesitantly. "S-Sure sounds like it…"

"C’mon," Harry said, "let’s go see."

Malfoy stared at him like he was crazy. He even said as much.

"Are you mental?" he growled at him. "It also sounds dangerous, you idiot!"

Harry smirked.

"All right, then," he told him. "Since I know snakes don’t have backbones, I guess I’ll have to go by myself."

Malfoy gritted his teeth and growled something nasty sounding under his breathe.

"Nobody accuses a Malfoy of being a coward, Potter!" he told him, fiercely. "Let’s go, but after we see what it is—we’re finishing our duel!"

"Agreed," Harry told him, smiling. "Now, c’mon…" With that, the two boys went even deeper into the forest.

Follow the sounds of the shrill cries, they found themselves on the edge of a moonlit clearing and in the center of that clearing…

Was the most monstrous sight either boy had ever seen.

For lying on the ground was what appeared to be a very much alive pure white unicorn, and beside it—drinking its silvery blood!—was a draped figure in a dark hooded cloak.

Harry and Draco watched in stunned disbelief as whatever it was bent down to drink from a wound on the unicorn’s neck.

The sight was too much for the blonde haired Slytherin-who promptly began spewing the contents of his stomach onto the ground beside him.

"Shhh!" Harry hissed at him. "He’ll hear you!"

Draco finished retching, wiped his mouth, and then gave him a scathing look.

He didn’t say anything, however. He merely punched Harry in the shoulder.

Unfortunately, this pushed Harry forward—causing his foot to land on a branch and snap it.

The sound echoed across the clearing; rather loudly, in fact.

The dark clad figure reared up, staring straight at where the two boys were standing.

Every instinct in his body screaming for him to run, Harry found that his feet were glued to the ground.

Apparently, neither could Draco—as the blonde haired boy did not move, either.

As the creature, or whatever the hell it was, drew closer, Harry felt a sharp pain in his forehead—right where his scar was.

Crying out, he grabbed his head as a searing pain shot through it.

Unable to stay up right, his knees buckled out from under him and he fell forward onto the ground—moaning in agony!

The, apparently, was the final straw for Draco…as he promptly fainted into a dead heap beside Harry.

Despite the pain, Harry held his wand—albeit shakily—and tried to muster up the will to cast a spell…

Unfortunately, the pain was too intense and he found his fingers growing numb.

His wand slipped from his grasp and landed in the dirt in front of him.

Somebody, he thought silently, please…HELP!

Glancing up, he saw that the black clad figure still approached and he couldn’t be sure but it seemed to be almost…hissing.

Harry swallowed, certain that this was it. His Hogwarts career—make that his life—was over before it even really got going…

Just then, however, a rather strange sound reached his ears—it was the sound of hooves.

The hooves sounded as if they were coming from behind him, and they were getting closer.

Suddenly, a large shape vaulted over him and Draco to land between them and the dark clad figure.

Harry glanced up and his green eyes widened in utter shock.

Standing there, the moonlight shining down upon it, was a stag—a large, black stag!

It was perhaps the largest buck he’d ever seen with glistening black fur from its head down to its tail.

It antlers were enormous—he managed to count twelve points—as was the rest of it.

It stood there for a moment, pawing at the ground, but then it reared up—kicking out with its front legs.

The pronged-hooves looked razor sharp and they also glistened in the moonlight.

It continued to rear up, advancing on the dark clad figure—that had halted in his tracks when the stag appeared.

As the stag advanced upon it, the dark clad figure began to back away—as if it were afraid of the large buck.

When the stag was only a few feet way, well within striking distance with either its hooves or its antlers, the dark clad figure turned tail and raced across the clearing and deeper into the forest.

Harry felt the pain in his forehead start to subside, though his scar still felt like it was on fire.

"Ahh," he groaned, sitting up. He felt queasy and then turned to his left and heaved up the few contents of his stomach.

The black stag, after watching the dark clad figure retreat into the trees, turned and began making his way towards him.

Harry blinked, as his vision seemed to blur a moment—was his head hurting that badly?—or maybe it was the stag that blurred, but at any rate once it cleared he found that the large black beast was gone.

In his place was…a very, very angry looking Professor Severus Snape!

Harry closed his eyes and groaned.

HPHPHPHPHPHP

Severus was beyond angry—he was livid!

Having followed that imbecile Quirrel out of the castle and into the forest—to try and determine just what the man was up to—the last thing he had expected to find was a pair of eleven year olds.

He glared down at Harry and the still unconscious Draco, narrowing his eyes at them.

He knelt down beside them. "Are you injured, Potter?" he asked the boy, quickly.

Harry swallowed, hard. He knew he was in very big trouble.

Good, Severus thought. He should be afraid…very afraid!

"N-No, Sir," Harry answered him. "M-My head hurts a little bit, b-but I’m okay."  

Humph, Severus grunted to himself, I’d be more concerned about your other end right now if I were you, boy!

This was the last straw—the one that broke the camels back, as they say.

This time, Potter would get the punishment he deserved…and he would be the one to dole it out.

Not wanting to remain in the forest a moment longer, he scooped his still unconscious nephew into his arms and stood up.

"Follow me, Potter," he growled at Harry, sternly, "and do not even think of lagging behind!"

"Y-Yes, Sir," Harry said, bending down to pick up his wand from the ground.

Severus nodded, lifting Draco a little bit higher and cradling the boy’s head against his chest.

He couldn’t quite help but chuckle at the state his nephew was in…though he could definitely sympathize with it.

Lucius would die of heart failure if he knew his son had actually fainted when faced with a Dark entity, he thought to himself.

He was half tempted to tell him about it, just to see the look on his sadistic brother’s face—but then, Draco would be the one to suffer for it and he did not want that to happen.

Oh well, he thought with a sigh. Of course, Draco may wish his father had killed him by the time I’m through with him…

Leading the way back up to the castle, he headed immediately for the dungeons.

Harry did not even question or argue, but merely followed with his head down.

So, Severus thought, the little monster is feeling guilty, eh? He’s going to be feeling a lot worse very soon.

Going to his quarters, he quickly spoke the password and turned to Harry.

"Come, Mr. Potter," he growled at him, gently shoving him through the doorway. "You have much to answer for!"

His living quarters were very cozy—at least, he found them so.

The furniture, consisting of a sofa and two high backed armchairs, were made of black leather with silver accents.

The carpet, a rich plush Turkish-style, was a brilliant emerald green with black border around the edges of it.

The end tables (one on either end of the sofa and one out beside each high-backed chair) with black wrought-iron lamps attached to them was made of black ebony oak…as was the desk that sat in the far corner of the room and the six bookcases that stretched, three on either side, out from the black ebony mantled fireplace.

Flicking his wand, Severus said, "Incendio!" A fire burst to life in the fireplace, creating a soft glow in the darkened room.

He snapped his fingers and the lamps came on automatically.

"Sit in that armchair, Potter," he instructed the young Gryffindor, "and do not move so much as a muscle!"

Harry obeyed, sitting in the armchair that was to the right of the fireplace.

Severus lowered Draco onto the sofa and then turned to head through the doorway that was opposite the entrance.

This led to a hallway that consisted of four rooms—his bedroom, his study, his private potions’ lab, and extra guest room.

It was to the potions lab he went, retrieved a vial, and then returned to the sitting room.

"Is your head still hurting?" he asked Harry, curiously.

Harry swallowed, but nodded. "Y-Yes, Sir," he told him, "but it’s not too bad. I promise."

Severus resised rolling his eyes. Why did little boys always try to put on brave front?

Probably the same reason grown men do, a voice that sounded suspiciously like his own whispered in his mind snidely. Oh, shut up! Who asked you?

"Here," Severus said, out loud, to Harry. He handed him the vial he’d retrieved.

Harry took it, looking at the contents with an apprehensive stare. "W-What is it?" he asked, hesitantly.

"Its poison, Potter," Severus snorted, rolling his eyes, unable to keep the sarcasm from his voice. "I dragged you all the way down here only to murder you!"

Harry snickered at that, but continued to stare at the vial suspiciously.

Severus sighed. "It’s a Pain-Relieving Potion," he told him. "It’ll take the rest of your headache away. Now, drink it!"

This last was a command—plain and simple—and woe the stubborn brat if he dared to disobey!

Harry sighed, but then drank the potion. "Yuck," he said, making a face. "It tastes like dirty socks!"

Severus smirked. "My, however did you guess the most important ingredient," he told him, sarcastically.

Harry gave him a dirty look and muttered something under his breath.

Severus narrowed his eyes at the dark haired boy. "What was that?" he asked him, sternly.

Harry winced. "Uh, n-nothing," he told him, hurriedly. "S-Sir…"

"That’s what I thought," Severus said, turning to Draco. "Agaumenti!"

A small jet of water flew from the tip of his wand to hit the boy in the face.

Draco sprang up, muttered and cursing.

This caused Harry to erupt in a giggling fit, which he quickly stopped when he [Severus] turned a cold stare upon him.

Draco blinked, glancing around. He glanced up at him, his eyes wide. "U-Uncle Sev?" he asked, confused.

"Uncle?" Harry asked, frowning.

"Uh, what happened?" Draco asked, hesitantly.

Severus raised himself to his full height, towering over both boys.

"What happened is that I found a pair of eleven year olds out of the castle, in the Forbidden Forest, at midnight!" he growled at the two of them, through gritted teeth. "Care to enlighten me as to why you both were not in your beds—where you belong!"

"Um, well, you see," Draco began, glancing at Harry for support.

"We were just," Harry started to say. "I mean, we can explain….it’s just…" He floundered, and then quickly shut his mouth.

Severus narrowed his eyes at his nephew.

"I want the truth, Draco Lucius Malfoy," he growled, sternly, "and I want it right now!"

Draco cringed. He knew better than to ignore that tone. He sighed, looking down at the carpet.

"We were having a duel," he confessed, but then quickly looked up. "But it was all Potter’s idea!"

Severus snorted at this, and Harry sent the boy a murderous look.

"That’s not true!" the dark haired Gryffindor sprang up, outraged. "He started it by insulting my mum!"

Severus threw Draco a scathing look, but then focused on Lily’s son.

"Sit down, Mr. Potter," he growled, angrily. While you still can, he added silently to himself.

Harry sat, but he continued to glare daggers at Draco—who glared back. Severus glared daggers at them both.

"Do you have any idea how many school rules you both have broken tonight?" he asked them, sternly. "Being out of bed after curfew—is forbidden! Being in the Forbidden Forest—is forbidden! Dueling—is forbidden!"

"We didn’t actually do it!" Draco spoke up, quickly, but then shrank back at his imposing stare.

"What?" he asked, curiously.

"T-The duel," his nephew explained. "W-We never actually did it. We were going to, b-but then we heard t-that thing and decided to go looking for it!"

Severus’ eyes practically blazed at that.

"You went looking for it!" he hollered, incensed. "And just whose bright idea was that…or do I even need to ask?"

He spun, glancing pointedly at Harry, who quickly averted his gaze.

"I see," Severus said, quietly. His nostrils flared.

Oh yes, Mr. Potter, he thought, your backside and my hand will most definitely be getting acquainted tonight!

Silently fuming, he turned to the mantle and reached for some Floo powder.

Tossing it in, he growled, "Slytherin Common Room!"

The flames turned green and rose up, forming a doorway. He pointed at Draco.

"You are to go to your room, get yourself ready for bed, and be waiting for me when I arrive shortly," he ordered him, sternly. "And Merlin help you, Mr. Malfoy, if you aren’t there when I get there! Now, move!"

Draco, his blue eyes wide, dashed off the sofa and through the magical doorway.

The moment he was through it, Severus waved his wand and he flames returned to normal. He sighed.

"Figures," he heard Harry mutter, sourly. "Malfoy gets off scot free, as usual!"

Severus spun around, glaring ominously at the small dark haired boy.

"On the contrary, Mr. Potter," he told him, smirking silkily. "Mr. Malfoy will be receiving the exact same punishment as you."

Harry glared up at him. "Then, why’d you let him go?" he asked, only a little petulantly.

"Because I am not in the habit of disciplining students in front of each other," he informed him, going over and removing his black robes and hanging them up.

Rolling up the sleeves of his dress shirt, he went and sat down in the chair opposite the boy.

"You seem to think you are above the rules, Mr. Potter," Severus told him, sternly, "and that—I am here to inform you—is most certainly not true."

"That’s not true!" Harry told him, angrily. "It’s Malfoy who prances around like he owns the place!"

"Yes, I am well aware of Mr. Malfoy’s short comings," Severus told him, firmly. "It is you, however, we are discussing at this moment."

Harry sighed. "Yes, Sir," he said, poutily. "It won’t matter what I say anyway…"

Severus’ eyes blazed anew at his petulance.

"Dammit, boy!" he growled, smacking the arm chair he sat in and causing the darked hair youth to jump. "Three times! Three times you have needlessly put yourself in harm’s way, Mr. Potter, and two of those times you managed to get out by the skin of your teeth. But not this time! This time, if I had not intervened, you and Draco would be dead now! Do you realize that?!"

Harry’s eyes widened at that. "Then what I saw was real?" he asked him, curiously. "You were the black stag?"

"Yes, Mr. Potter," Severus growled at him. "I—like Professor McGonagall—am an Animagus…but that is besides the point! You delibertly put yourself and another in harm’s way—not to mention breaking countless school rules in the process—and this time you will not escape punishment!"

Harry swallowed. "W-What are you going to do?" he asked, worriedly. "H-Have me expelled?"

"While what you did tonight certainly warrants it," Severus told him. "No, I’m not. But neither am I going to do as Professor McGonagall did and pat you on the head and give you points. This time, Mr. Potter, there were no heroic—if completely insane—escapades …only utter recklessness and stupidity!"

Harry hung his head. "Y-Yes, Sir," he said, quietly.

Severus nodded, glad to see the boy was at least accepting responsibility for his action, he straightened up.

"Come here, Harry James," he said, beckoning him with his hand.

"W-Why, Sir?" Harry asked, uncertainly.

Severus narrowed his eyes.

"When I give an order, Mr. Potter," he told him, firmly. "It is to be obeyed—not questioned! Get over here this instant!"

Harry obeyed, getting up and crossing over to him. He was more than a little surprised, however, when he found himself over his knee.

"P-Professor!" he hollered, glancing back at him. "W-What are you doing?!"

"Giving you your well-earned punishment, Mr. Potter," Severus told him, bluntly.

"B-But you can’t!" Harry wailed, attempting to squirm out of his grasp.

"I assure, Mr. Potter, I can," Severus told him, raising his hand back, "and if you do not wish to lose the scant protection of your pants you will cease that squirming immediately!"

Harry stilled instantly, wincing as the first smack landed hard in the center of his bottom. He bit his lip, as another swat landed.

Severus spanked Harry the same as he did Draco—keeping the swats steady and even, leaving no trace of the small backside untouched.

Like Draco, Harry began to sniff by the tenth smack. He was tearing up by the fifteenth smack. By the twentieth, he was unable to hold the tears back.

Severus lifted the boy off his lap and produced a handkerchief from his pocket.

"Blow your nose, Mr. Potter," he instructed the boy, gently yet firmly.

Harry obeyed, but then reached back to rub his stinging bottom.

"Was that your first spanking, Harry?" Severus asked him, curiously.

"Y-Yes, Sir," Harry admitted, blushing red with embarrassment. "Um…a-aren’t I too old for that kinda thing, though?"

Severus grinned. "Do you know when was the last time I received a spanking, Mr. Potter?" he asked him, curiously.

Harry, of course, shook his head. "No, Sir," he told him, blushing again at such a thought.

"I was seventeen years old," Severus told him, matter-of-factly. "And do you know who doled out that punishment, Harry?"

Again, the boy shook his head.

"It was Professor Dumbledore," Severus told him, wincing at that particular memory.

Harry’s eyes widened at that. "No way!" he exclaimed, disbelieving.

"Oh, yes," Severus told him, smirking. "So you see? You are most definitely not too old…and being here at school does not change things, either."

Harry nodded, rubbing some more. "Uh, Sir, can I ask you something?"

"I don’t know, Harry," Severus told him, smirking wickedly. "Can you?"

Harry gave him a dirty look at that, causing him to chuckle. "May I ask you something, then?"

Severus nodded.

"You’re always staring at me," Harry said, looking him squarely in the face. "In the Great Hall, in the corridors, in class…but what I don’t get is why? And tonight…here was your chance to get rid of me and you didn’t take it?"

"What do you mean by ‘get rid’ of you?" Severus asked him, curiously.

"Well, you seem like you hate me, Sir," Harry told him, "and then other times its…well, its almost like you care what happens to me. Like tonight…you saved me from whatever that was and you could have took me to Professor Dumbledore but instead you…uh…well."

"Spanked you like the errant child you are, Mr. Potter," Severus finished for him, smirking.

"Uh, yeah," Harry said, blushing again. "But…why?"

Severus sighed. He should have been expecting these questions.

"First and foremost, Harry, I do not hate you," he told him, firmly. "I never have and never will. Now, your recklessness and cheek does sometimes—a lot of the time—aggravate me and I strongly disapprove of you breaking the school rules as you did tonight. You’re a student, just like everybody else."

"I know that, Sir," Harry told him, "but it seems almost…personal or something…for you…about me, I mean."

"It is personal for me, Harry," Severus told him, quietly. "Your mother and I were once very…close…and as such I promised her that I would look out for you in the event that something happened to her."

"You knew my mum?" Harry asked, surprised. "Really?"

Severus nodded. "Yes, really, we were neighbors as children and best friends during our Hogwarts years," he told him, quietly.

"I-Is that who I remind you?" Harry asked, curiously. "My mum…"

Severus smiled. It seemed the boy was more perceptive than he gave him credit for.

"Yes," he told him. "You have her eyes, you know, and her stubbornness."

"Really, I do?" Harry asked, smiling.

"Yes," Severus told him. "Unfortunately, you also inherited your father’s reckless streak and the two in one body is not a very good combination."

"Oh," Harry said, quietly. "Sir, will tell me some more about my mum. Please? I don’t anything about her, really."

Severus nodded. "I shall," he told him, standing up, "but it late and you have class tomorrow."

Harry sighed. "Yes, Sir," he said, biting his lip in disappointment.

Severus reached out and lifted his chin so that he was looking him in the eye. "When I make a promise, Mr. Potter," he told him. "I keep it. We will discuss your mother—but not right this moment. Is that understood?"

Harry nodded. "Yes, Sir," he said, quietly.

"Very well, then," he told him. Going to the mantle, he threw some Floo powder into the fire again. "Gryffindor Common Room!"

The flames turned green and the doorway appeared.

"You are to go straight to bed, Mr. Potter," Severus told the boy firmly, "and you had better not even think of being late for breakfast tomorrow or not show up for any of your classes. You will not appreciate the consequences if you do."

Harry’s eyes widened and he winced. "No, Sir," he told him. "I won’t be late."

"Very well, then," Severus told him. "Off you go, then." He motioned for him to step up the fire place.

Harry eyed the green flames apprehensively.

"They are harmless," Severus told him. "One more thing before you go, though."

"Yes, Sir?" Harry asked, looking up at him.

"You will be serving a detention with me tomorrow night at seven o’clock," he told him, firmly. "Understood?"

Harry’s shoulders slumped, but he nodded. "Yes, Sir," he said, wearily.

Severus nodded. "Go then," he told him, sending him through the doorway with a swat to his pants.

Once the boy was through, he closed the doorway and sighed.

"Lily," he spoke to his beloved. "That boy is going to be the death of me…him and Draco."

And speaking of Draco…

His nostils flaring angrily again, he opened the portal to the Slytherin common room and strolled through.

He had one more ‘lesson’ to dole out tonight.

And then, finally, he could go to bed.

SSSSSSSSS

On the fifth floor of St. Mungos Hospital for Magical Maladies, in room number seven, the red haired woman named Lily continued to sleep.

No one was around, however, when her head tilted to the left and a single word escaped her lips in a breathless whisper.

Harry awoke the next morning feeling very…indignant.

Opening his eyes, he blinked in momentary puzzlement and then frowned as the events of the night before sprang to the forefront of his mind.

How dare Snape do…that…to him?! What right did he have, anyway?

He wasn’t his Head of House…or anything like that. Right?

The most he should have been aloud to do was give him a detention and taken points. Right?

Harry frowned up at the blurry canopy of his four-poster bed.

He wondered if he could lodge a complaint against the Potions Master with Professor Dumbledore…maybe even get the man sacked!

Unfortunately, he remembered exactly what Snape had told him about the last time he’d been spanked and who’d done the spanking.

And given the circumstances—being out of bed, out of the castle, in the Forbidden Forest, attempting to duel another student—he wasn’t sure the Headmaster would be so sympathetic to his plight.

Reaching underneath him, Harry felt of his bottom—which no longer stung or burned at all, much to his dismay.

The night before, it had felt as if his entire bum was on fire and it would never stop stinging.

Harry huffed, sighing. How was he supposed to lodge a complaint if there was no proof of abuse?

It just wasn’t fair! And he had a detention tonight, as well.

Great, he thought to himself. That should be loads of fun…not!

Of course, a nagging piece of his mind said, it could have been much worse.

Snape had saved his and Malfoy’s lives last night, as well.

And, he added to himself, he didn’t have you expelled...even though you’d broken enough school rules to warrant it.

Harry bit his lip, wanting to hold onto his righteous indignation…but realized that he more than deserved what he’d gotten and he should count himself lucky it wasn’t much worse.

But it was a spanking—a spanking!—for Merlin’s sakes! And he was eleven, after all.

What he’d told Snape the night before was quite true. It had been the first spanking he’d ever received in his life.

Despite being mean and utterly wretched to Harry for the whole of his life, his relatives had never really been physical abusive towards him.

His uncle, Vernon, ranted and raved and threatened ‘til he turned purple in the face…but that was as far it went.

Harry had always been of the opinion that the man wore himself out threatening him so much, that he didn’t have the energy to dole out a smacking afterwards.

That, and the fact he was sure they thought that by touching him in some way they’d catch his ‘freakiness’.

Apparently, that was not the case with Snape—who had been quite livid over his actions but had neither ranted nor raved—who hadn’t threatened at all.

He’d told him quite clearly he wasn’t going to ‘escape’ punishment and had then doled out said punishment.

Lucky me, Harry thought sourly.

And, he admitted, the man had been neither brutal nor excessive in doling out the smacks, either.

Neville’s alarm clock picked that moment to go off, waking up everybody in the dorm.

Harry’s bed curtains were thrown back, causing blinding light to sting his eyes, and he then felt his glasses thrust into his hands.

Putting them on, he found Ron staring at him eagerly. "Bloody ‘ell, ‘Arry!" his best friend said. "You look rutty awful, mate!"

Harry snorted that. "Good morning to you too, Ron," he told him, sitting up.

Ron jumped onto his bed. "So, what happened?" he asked, smirking wickedly. "Did you beat Malfoy’s arse or what?"

No, Harry grumbled to himself. Snape beat mine!

Okay, maybe not beat…but it had still hurt!

You deserved it, a snide voice that sounded suspiciously like Hermione’s whispered inside his head. You can’t say you didn’t!

Oh, shut up! He growled at it. Who asked you, anyway?

"Not exactly," Harry told Ron, hesitantly.

Ron’s eyes widened. "Don’t tell me he won, ah ‘Arry!" he exclaimed, looking pained.

"No," Harry quickly shook his head. "Nobody won because…we, uh, we never dueled."

"You mean Malfoy chickened out?" Ron asked, snorting. "Why, that little—"

Again, Harry shook his head.

"No, Malfoy actually showed up on time and everything," he told him. "We even went into the Forbidden Forest."

"Then, what happened?" Ron asked, frowning. "Why didn’t you wipe the floor with him?"

Harry started to answer, but just then Neville interrupted.

"You two better get a move on," he told them. "R-Remember, we’ve got p-potions this m-morning!"

Harry groaned at that. Great! Not only was he going to have to face Snape again, but Malfoy as well!

Unfortunately, he didn’t dare not show up for class…otherwise he’d be facing Snape again in an entirely different way.

As he and Ron headed for the bathroom to get ready, he told him, "I’ll tell you and Hermione all about it at breakfast, okay?"

Ron nodded and the two boys quickly got showers, brushed their teeth, and threw on their school uniforms.

Meeting an obviously anxious Hermione in the common room, who quickly rushed to them and gave Harry the once over…as if making sure he was still in one piece.

"Oh, lay off, Hermione, he’s fine!" Ron told her, rolling his eyes. "He and Malfoy didn’t even duel!"

Hermione frowned at that, but also looked slightly relieved.

"Oh, thank Merlin!" she told him. "I was so afraid you were going to get caught!"

"Well," Harry said, biting his lip. "We, uh, we kinda were…by Snape."

"Oh, no!" Hermione gasped at the same time Ron growled, "Bloody ‘ell, mate!"

Harry nodded.

"C’mon," he told them, glancing around as a couple of older students came through. "Let’s go have breakfast and I’ll tell you everything!"

Almost everything, he added silently to himself.

There was no way he was telling his two best friends that their potions professor had actually spanked him.

Entering the Great Hall, he glanced up at the teacher table and found Snape’s intense gaze upon him.

Great, he thought sourly to himself, the man’s gonna be watching me more than ever now!

Having a pseudo-guardian—someone who watched over him constantly—at school just plain sucked.

None of the other kids had to worry about any of the other professors taking a personal interest in them…well, except, maybe Malfoy.

As he and his friends sat down at the Gryffindor table, Harry glanced to see if the blonde haired Slytherin was here yet or not.

He was, and to his surprise, he wasn’t really talking much to anybody. He happened to look up and found his eyes upon him.

For some reason, he blushed at him and then scowled. He quickly averted his gaze back to his food.

Humph, spoiled prat! Harry snorted, but the exchange did confirm something.

He hadn’t been the only one last night to be on the receiving end of Snape’s [seemingly] iron-coated hand.

Good, he thought to himself. Why should I be the only one suffering?

"So, tell us," Ron said, once they’d piled food on their plates and started eating. "What happened, mate?"

Harry sighed, but then told them what had occurred the night before in the Forbidden Forest.

They both gasped when he got to the part of the unicorn.

"Unicorns are sacred animals, Harry," Hermione told him. "To injure or kill one…"

"It’s evil," Ron agreed, nodding. "Bloody evil!"

"Yeah, it was also gross," Harry said, wrinkling his nose. "Malfoy sicked up and so did I…"

"So," Hermione said, "Professor Snape is really an Animagus?"

Harry nodded.

"It was really wicked, actually," he told them about the black stag and how it had scared off whoever or whatever had been beneath that dark cloak.

"And Malfoy actually fainted?" Ron asked, laughing.

Harry smirked at that. Leave it to his best friend to latch onto the least important detail of the story…

"Yeah, he did, but I can’t really blame him," he told them, shuddering. "If my scar hadn’t been hurting so badly, I probably would have too."

"What do you think made your scar hurt like that?" Hermione asked him, curiously.

Harry shrugged. "Beats me," he said, frowning. "Professor Snape gave me a Pain-Relieving potion that made it go away."

"That was nice of him," Hermione said, thoughtfully. "And he didn’t take you to Professor Dumbledore and try to get you expelled?"

"No," Harry said, swallowing. "He, uh, he…gave me detention tonight at seven." Which was true, he had.

"Well, that sucks," Ron said, but then snorted. "Let me guess? Malfoy got off scot-free."

"No," Harry told him. "Professor Snape said he was getting the same punishment as me."

"Yeah, but I bet it won’t be the same," Ron said, glaring. "Snape favors Malfoy, the little prat. He’ll be much worse on you."

I don’t know about that, Harry thought to himself.

He remembered quite clearly that Draco had called Snape ‘uncle’ the night before.

Wouldn’t the professor be a lot harder on his own nephew than just one of his regular students?

After all, whatever Draco did affected his Head of House, as well.

Just then, the mail arrived and Hedwig once again brought him a folded piece of parchment.

It read: Meet me at the entrance at seven sharp for your detention. Wear your best clothes. S. Snape

"What is it, Harry?" Ron asked, curiously. "A note from your family?"

"No," Harry said, folding the note up. "It was just from Professor Snape reminding me about my detention tonight."

"Oh," Ron said, and then went back to eating his bacon and eggs and cereal.

Harry had noticed that the professor’s handwriting matched the handwriting of the first note he’d received on Halloween.

So, Harry thought to himself, he had been the one to send me that note about my parents.

After what the professor had told him last night about him and his mother being good friend during school, it made sense.

The professor clearly still missed Lily a great deal, and had wanted her son to remember the sacrifice she had made for him.

He glanced up at the teacher table, meeting Snape’s dark gaze.

He nodded, acknowledging that he understood the note and would be on time for his detention.

Snape, he noticed, smirked back—a knowing look in his eyes.

Harry groaned, because just then the bell rang signaling it was time to go to class.

Ron sighed. "Well," he said, reluctantly, "we’d best head down to the dungeons. I hate potions!"

Harry quietly agreed—the dreaded class was going to be even more unbearable now, he was sure.

Snape’ll probably be all smug, he thought with a sigh. Greasy bat!

Reaching the dungeons, the three Gryffindors entered the potions classroom to find Professor Snape already there.

He glanced up at their entrance, frowning.

"Well," he said, raising an eyebrow at them. "What are you all standing in the door for? Get in here and takes your seats!"

Harry sighed, but nodded. He, Hermione, and Ron each took seats in the middle of the classroom.

Once everyone was inside and sitting, class began.

As usual, Snape started with the roll, took up homework, and then began his lecture.

"Today," he told them, silkily, "you shall be making the Relative Potion…"

Hermione’s hand shot up at this, her face frowning.

Snape sighed. He hated to be interrupted in the middle of one of his speeches.

"Yes, Granger," he growled at her. "What is it?!"

"Sir?" the mousy haired witch said, hesitantly. "That potion is a very obscure one and according to the text book is rarely—if ever—used today…"

"Yes, I know," Snape told her, rolling his eyes at her. "I am glad, though hardly surprised, that at least one of you bothered to read ahead…"

"Well, Sir?" Hermione spoke up again. "If the potion is not used anymore—why are we learning to brew it?"

"I am not in the habit of explaining my lesson choices to eleven year olds," Snape told her, scowling, "however—if you must know—you are all at the beginning level of your potions brewing mastery. This potion, while not used any longer, is still a simple, basic potion to brew. Furthermore, it uses an ingredient that many other [more] advanced potions use and you must get used to dealing with it."

"What ingredient is that, Sir?" Hermione asked him, her eyes alight with intrigue.

Harry and Ron both groaned at this.

When it came to handling new magical ingredients, learning a new spell or hex, or simply learning something she didn’t already know, the girl could be like a dog with a bone.

"Blood," Snape told them, smirking at the wrinkled looks on some of their faces.

"Specifically," he went on, "you will be using your own blood. The premise for this potion is simple—it is used to determine whether a person is related by blood to another or not. Now, as Miss Granger so thoughtfully pointed out, it is rarely used today. The best example I can give as to how it would be used is perhaps in the matter of an inheritance dispute. Say for example, that some batty old man left his entire fortune to a many removed niece or nephew. Once said inheritor was found this potion would be brewed to determine that they were, indeed, a blood relation to the deceased and not simply some gold-digger looking to strike it rich. Understand?"

"Fascinating," Hermione said, glancing excitedly at Harry and Ron. They didn’t seem to quite share her glee, however.

"Now then," Snape said, and then a wicked smirk crossed his face. "We will be doing things a bit differently today. Instead of partnering with your usual potions partner, you will be partnering with a member from the opposite House—meaning one Slytherin and one Gryffindor per potion."

He received several cries of outrage from all those present—including Harry.

What’s he up to? He couldn’t help but think. Why’s he looking at me like that?

"Since I can see I will have to pair you off myself," Snape said, silkily, "let’s start with the first pairing: Mr. Potter and Mr. Malfoy."

"What!" Harry exclaimed, hearing it echoed from behind him by Malfoy. "You’ve got to be kidding me?!"

Snape glared at them, sternly.

"As you are all aware," he told them, his nostrils flaring dangerously. "I do not ‘kid’ when it comes to potions. Now, quit caterwauling and move! Immediately!"

Harry sighed, gathering up his books and quills and potions stuff to take to the back. Ron and Hermione gave him sympathetic looks as he did so.

He then went and sat down next to Malfoy, who looked even less pleased by this than he was.

Well, Harry grumbled to himself. They say misery loves company. Right?

Snape glared at them a moment, but then went on assigning off new lab partners.

Ron ended up with Crabbe. Hermione ended up with Milicent Bulstrode. And poor Neville was partnered with Goyle—who was so clueless he didn’t even know which class he was in half the time.

"Great," he heard Malfoy mutter sourly to himself. "Its official—he really is trying to kill us."

Harry snorted at that, actually smirking at the blonde haired Slytherin.

"He could have at least found an easier way of doing it," he whispered to him. "They’ll probably take out half the castle!"

Malfoy snickered, nodding in agreement, but then remembered to whom he was talking and then sniffed in disdain.

"Shut up, Potter," he growled at him, sourly.

Harry felt his temper rise at that. He’d only been responding to something he’d said, after all…

He opened his mouth to make a scathing reply, but a large shadow crossing over him caused him to look up.

Professor Snape glared down at the two of them.

"I would suggest you two get busy and began brewing," he instructed them sternly. "I expect a perfectly brewed potion by the end of class—in forty five minutes!"

"Sir?" Harry asked him, curiously. "Is this part of our punishment?"

Snape smirked. "In a sense," he told them. "The two of you nearly died last night due to your utter inability to cooperate and get along. I intend to correct that—forcibly, if necessary."

"But…" Malfoy started to protest, but quickly shut his mouth at the stern look on Snape’s face.

"No buts, Mr. Malfoy," he told him. "You two will learn to at least tolerate each other and remain civil when in each other’s presence—even if you must be partnered together for the rest of your Hogwarts careers!"

Harry’s eyes widened that. Seven years of having to sit by Malfoy! No way, it was not gonna happen!

"W-We’ll cooperate, Sir," he told the potions master, quickly.

Malfoy also looked horrified by the prospect. He nodded his head in full agreement.

Snape snorted. "I’m glad to hear it," he told them. "Now, get started! You now only have forty minutes to complete the potion!"

With that, he turned and headed back up to the front of the classroom. Harry glanced at Malfoy.

"Truce, for now?" he asked him, holding out his hand. "But only for the next forty minutes, of course."

Malfoy nodded. "Of course," he told him, smirking. "After that, all bets are off."

"Agreed," Harry said, and they shook hands. Then, they got to work on brewing the potion.

For the next thirty-five minutes, everyone worked diligently while Snape walked around and commented, as he usually did.

Whenever he would stop in front of them, he’d pause but wouldn’t say anything, smirk, and then go on.

"Okay," Harry said, after Malfoy had added the powdered Newt to the potion. "All that’s left is to add the blood."

He picked up the small needle and handed it to him.

"You want to go first?" he asked, smirking. "Or should I? I mean, I’d hate for you to faint again and all…"

"Up yours, Potter," Malfoy snapped, snatching the needle. "I’m not afraid of a little blood!"

He quickly pricked his thumb, wincing, and then allowed a drop of his red ‘blue’ blood to fall into the potion.

"Now, you," he smirked, "or are you going to moan and groan like a baby again?"

"Stuff it," Harry growled, snatching the needle back. He also pricked his thumb and let a drop of blood fall into the potion.

"There," he said, stirring it. "The potions done, now we can—" He trailed off, his eyes widening in shock.

Malfoy too had gone quite pale, staring wide-eyed at their potion.

According to the recipe, once the blood was added the potion would either do one of two things.

Either it wouldn’t change color—meaning the two people weren’t related by blood to each other.

Or it would—meaning that they were.

Their potion had been the color it said it was supposed to be before their blood was mixed in: a dark green.

Once there blood had been added, however, it had turned a bright yellow. Which meant…

"T-That can’t be right," Harry stammered, swallowing hard.

"Y-You must have added something wrong, Potter!" Malfoy said, glaring at him.

"Me!" Harry exclaimed, angrily. "More than likely it was you, you—"

"What is the meaning of this?!" Snape snapped at them, glaring down at them with his arms crossed.

Harry and Malfoy glared at each other, but then glanced up at the professor.

"He did something!" Malfoy accused. "He messed up our potion!"

"No, he did," Harry growled back. "Because there’s no way…" He shook his head, not finishing his statement.

"I can’t be related to him!" both boys exclaimed at the exact same time, pointing at the other.

Snape frowned deeply at that, but then glanced at their potion. His black eyes widened in complete and utter shock, as well.

"T-There is nothing wrong with y-your potion," he told them, abruptly.

"But, Professor!" Both boys exclaimed at the same time.

"Be quiet!" Snape snapped at them, his eyes moving back and forth rapidly.

It almost looked as if he were…counting….or something.

Why would he be doing that? Harry wondered silently.

Suddenly, he spun around and snapped, "Longbottom! Goyle! Have you added the blood to your potion yet?"

"N-No, S-Sir," Neville stammered at him. "W-W w-were about to…"

"Do not worry about it," Snape snapped at them. "I need to borrow your potion!" Just then, the bell sounded for the end of class.

"Potter, Malfoy, do not move," he hollered. "The rest of you put your potions on my desk and get out!"

"B-But…" Neville stammered, his eyes wide with fear. He didn’t want to fail the assignment for the day.

"Do not fret," Snape told him and Goyle. "I will know if you brewed it correctly. You’ll be given full credit, I assure you."

"We will?" Goyle exclaimed, smiling.

Neither he nor Neville had received full credit on a class assignment the nearly two and half months they had been attending the class!

"Yes," Snape assured them. "Now, go!" He pointed to the door.

Hermione and Ron were glancing at Harry curiously.

"You guys go on," he told them. "I’ll be all right."

"A-All right, Harry," Hermione said, eyeing the professor curiously.

"Yeah, mate," Ron said, not liking this at all. "Are you sure?"

"I am, Weasley," Snape growled at him. "Now, out! Before I take points!"

Ron and Hermione quickly headed out of the classroom.

Once everyone was gone, Snape brought a small sample of the potion Neville and Goyle had been working over in a small cylinder.

Setting it down, he picked up the needle and pricked his finger—letting a drop of blood fall into the potion.

"Give me your unpricked thumb, Potter," Snape told him. "Now!"

Harry did so, not wanting to aggravate the man any further. He still had detention with him that night, after all.

The professor pricked his thumb and let another drop of blood fall into the potion to join his own.

He then stirred. Harry and Malfoy both watched as once again the potion turned from green to yellow.

Snape’s eyebrows rose clear to his forehead, and he went even paler than usual.

With a wave of his wand summoned the chair from behind his desk. He collapsed into it, his head in his hands.

Harry swallowed. "W-What does it mean, Sir?" he asked him, hesitantly.

"Y-Yeah, Uncle Sev," Malfoy stammered beside him. "W-What does it mean?"

Snape looked up at them, his black eyes haunted.

"It means, Harry," he told him, quietly. "That I am your father."

HPHPHPHP

"WHAT!?"

Severus winced at the two nearly identical exclamations that shot out of both of the boys in front of him.

"Please, boys," he told them, wearily. "Do not shout—I have just received quite a shock myself, you know."

Oh, Lily, he thought to himself in anguish. How could not have told me? How could you have let me think…

Harry was shaking is head in complete and utter disbelief.

"B-B-But that’s not possible!" he yelled, outraged. "You can’t be my dad!"

"Actually, it’s very possible," Severus told him, matter-of-factly, "and that is proof."

He pointed to the potion.

"Maybe it was a mistake…" Harry stammered, his eyes wide.

"Even if you and Draco had made a mistake with your potion—which you didn’t—Misters Longbottom and Goyle did not," Severus told him, bluntly. "For once, they both managed to brew a perfect potion."

If I’d known that, he snorted to himself, I’d have partnered the two of them together two months ago!

Sighing, he stood up. "Come with me, boys" he told them, "and I will attempt to explain some things…"

"But what about our next class, Uncle Sev?" Draco asked him, worriedly.

"Do not worry," he told him, gently. "I’ll write you a note—for both of you. Now, come."

With that, he turned and headed out of the potions classroom. He glanced back once, just to make certain the boys were following him.

Harry looked as if he were in shock.

Not that I can blame him, Severus thought, I’m rather shocked myself…

But there could simply be no other explanation for why the boys’ potion had changed colors.

The Potters and the Malfoys were deadly enemies and had been so for more than three hundred years!

There had not been a marriage between them in all that time.

The Malfoys only ever married purebloods, while the Potters predominately tended to marry half-blood or muggleborns.

There was no interconnection at all between the two families.

The only way that Harry and Draco could possibly be related by blood was through him.

The moment he’d seen the potion, the thought came unbidden into his mind and he immediately began thinking things through.

Harry had been born exactly nine months to the day from the night he’d been hit with that curse.

He and Lily had made love that night—before he’d been summoned to the battle.

He was in that magical coma for five months…and Harry was born four months after he’d come back.

At the time, he’d been too grief-stricken over losing Lily that he had not even bothered to think things through clearly.

It never occurred to him the baby she carried might possibly be his…

But Lily must have known. She must have.

So, he thought with deep regret in his heart, why didn’t she tell me?

Even if she had thought him dead when she married Potter, why would she deny him his son?

They had talked about starting a family for years—she knew how much having a child or children meant to him.

Damn it, Lily! He thought suddenly furious with his beloved. I had a right to know!

Entering his quarters, he glanced at the two boys. "Leave your bags by the door and sit on the sofa," he instructed them, hanging up his teaching robes on the hook. "I’ll be right back."

He then went and retrieved the photo album from his beside table.

Rejoining the two boys in the sitting room, he sat down in his favorite chair and rested the album on his lap.

He glanced at the two boys, who were sitting as far apart as they could from each other.

They look like opposing bookends, Severus thought with a chuckle. They are both small for their age, stubborn, willful, and brilliant. The only difference is their hair and eyes.

"Harry," Severus said, gaining the young Gryffindor’s attention. "Do you remember what I told you last night? About your mother and I?"

The boy nodded. "Y-Yes, Sir," he answered, hesitantly. "You told me you were neighbors as kids. That you were best friends here at Hogwarts."

"That’s right, we were," Severus said, "but we we’re much more than that. You see, three years after we’d finished school, we were married."

"What?!" Draco exclaimed, shocked. "Uncle Sev, y-you married a…a…Mudblood!?"

Severus eyes nearly bulged and he stood up, glaring daggers at his nephew.

Taking out his wand, he flicked it at the impudent Slytherin. Draco immediately began sputtering and spitting out soap suds.

"Never," Severus growled at the errant boy, "refer to her like that again! Do you hear me, Draco Lucius Malfoy?"

Draco nodded, still sputtering. He’s eyes were beginning to water, and he looked up pleadingly.

Severus snorted, but then flicked his wand. The soap disappeared from Draco’s mouth, but the taste remained.

A reminder, brat, he thought savagely. You should know by now I don’t tolerate profanity!

"I don’t understand," Harry said, frowning. "What was that word?"

"It is a nasty, spiteful, and very dirty word used to slander muggleborn witches and wizards," Severus informed him.

Harry glared at Draco. "Don’t insult my mum, Malfoy," he growled at him. "Otherwise I’ll kick your—"

"Harry James!" Severus growled, raising his wand. "Do you neeed a reminder, too?"

The dark haired boy quickly shook his head. "No, Sir," he said, quietly. "I’m sorry."

"I know you’re upset," Severus told him, "but taking it out on your cousin won’t help."

The two boys’ eyes all but bulged out of their sockets at the word ‘cousin’ and both sent the other glares.

Had the situation not been so serious, he would have laughed. He held up the album.

"These are the pictures from our wedding," Severus told him, handing the book to the young Gryffindor.

Harry took it and began looking through it. Despite himself, Draco scooted closer to look out of curiosity. He then glanced at him, questioningly.

"How come I never knew you were married, Uncle Sev?" he asked him. "Does Father and Mother know?"

"Hardly," Severus snorted. "Lily and I kept our marriage private—only a handful of our closest family and friends knew about it."

Harry glanced up. "But then, where did my…uh, James, I mean…well, you know."

"Three and half years after we were married," Severus told him, quietly.

"Why?" Harry asked. "Did you and Mum get a divorce or something?"

"No, not exactly" Severus told him, quietly. "Tell me, Harry, how much you know about…the Dark Lord?"

Draco gasped at that, his blue eyes widening. Harry frowned. "You mean Vol—?" he started to ask.

"Don’t say his name!" Severus and Draco exclaimed at the same time.

"You-Know-Who, then," Harry said, and he nodded. "Not much—except that he was a dark wizard and that he killed my—uh, parents. Why?"

"In order to understand what went on between me and your mother," Severus told him, "you must understand a little more about my past."

Harry nodded. "All right, Sir," he said. "I’m listening."

"Yeah," Draco added. "Me, too."

Severus nodded. "Very well," he said, taking a deep breath. "I am a half-blood. My mother was once Eileen Prince—the Princes are an old pureblood family, Harry—before she was forced into an arranged marriage to Abraxas Malfoy—your grandfather, Draco—and gave him a son."

"My father," Draco said, quietly.

"Oh, so that’s how you’re his uncle," Harry said, understanding. "I’d wondered…"

"Indeed," Severus went on. "At any rate, Abraxas was a mean old man who did nothing but beat her…so she left him. She left the wizarding world completely, actually. She went to live in Muggle London where she eventually met my father, Tobias Snape. They married and I was born. We lived in a small mill town on a street called Spinner’s End."

"Did Mum live there, too?" Harry asked him, curiously. "You said you were neighbors, right?"

"Right," Severus told him, "though she and her family moved there when she was eight. But I’ll get to that in a moment. Now, my parents were strict yet fair and they tried their best to give me the best of both my heritages. I first met Lily when she and your aunt were playing at the park. She did a bout of accidental magic and I knew immediately that she was a witch—and I told her so."

"Did she think you were crazy?" Harry asked, smiling. "I thought Hagrid was nuts when he first told me I was a wizard, anyway."

"No, actually, she didn’t," Severus told him. "Apparently, it was not the first time something ‘strange’ had happened to her. Now, your aunt Petunia was a regular bi—uh, that is…she was not very nice."

Harry snorted. "Tell me about it," he grumbled, rolling his eyes. "So, you and Mum became friends?"

Severus nodded. "From that moment on, we were nearly inseparable," he told him, seriously. "We did everything together—and it drove Petunia mad." He chuckled.

"Well, a couple of years after this we received our Hogwarts letters," Severus told him. "We’re both very excited, as you can imagine."

"Did Mum want to be sorted into Gryffindor?" Harry asked, curiously.

"She wasn’t certain, actually," Severus told him. "I, however, was almost certain I knew which House I’d be in."

"Slytherin," Draco said, proudly.

"Yes, as my mother had been and all the other Princes were," Severus said, smirking.

"So," Harry said, hesitantly, "you were excited about coming to school, then? Mum, too."

"Your mother most certainly was," Severus told him. "I was actually rather glad to be getting away from home, as well."

"Why?" Harry asked. "You said your parents were nice—just strict."

Severus sighed.

"Right before I was to start Hogwarts, my father lost his job," he explained. "He was—I suppose still is--a very man’s man, as it were, and had always worked with his hands. He had chose work over school so he had no other skills by which to fall back on. Labor-type jobs were very scarce at that time—as Muggle Britian was suffering through a recession—and he was unable to find work anywhere. He grew depressed, bitter, and angry. He also began to drink—and when he was drunk he could be very mean and hurtful. He and my mother began to fight a lot."

"Mother and Father do that, too," Draco said, quietly. "I hate it when they do."

"I did, too," Severus told him, "which is why I was eager to begin my wizard training. Unfortunately, the moment I stepped onto the train I was harassed by these two other boys—Sirius Black and James Potter—as was Lily."

"But everybody says James was real nice," Harry said, frowning.

Severus snorted.

"James was everybody’s favorite," he told him, rolling his eyes. "He could be very charismatic and charming and look right at you to tell you a bold faced lie. He had nearly everybody wrapped around his little finger—everyone except Lily and myself. Now, I will say this, he did [eventually] outgrow some of his more immature ways…"

"But it still didn’t change what he’d done," Harry said, quietly.

Severus narrowed his eyes at the boy. "The voice of experience, Harry?" he asked him, concerned.

The boy shrugged. "My cousin, Dudley, used to gang up on me with his friend," he told him, quietly. "It doesn’t matter…"

"It does," Severus told him, firmly. "Bullying of any kind is wrong—something you need to learn, Draco—and those victims of bullies have every right to feel angry and hurt. I know I certainly did. It also helps to have someone to talk to—I had your mother, for example. She also detested what James and his friends did."

"I, uh, I guess I could talk to Hermione," Harry said, biting his lip. "Ron probably wouldn’t understand."

Draco snorted. "There’s a big surprise," he muttered, rolling his eyes.

Harry opened his mouth to make a retort, but Severus silenced him with a hand. He then glared at Draco, who blushed.

"Uh, sorry," he said, glancing away from his uncle…and cousin.

"Anyway," Severus continued, clearing his throat, "Lily was Sorted into Gryffindor and I into Slytherin—as you know. Despite that, our friendship only grew stronger and stronger. Our affection towards each other intensified with each passing year…all the way up to our fifth year."

"Wasn’t that when Grandmother died?" Draco asked, frowning. "Mother told me something like that, anyway…"

"Yes," Severus said, sadly. "My father’s drinking only grew worse—though he was never truly violent or abusive with either my mother or me—and it hurt my mother to see him like that. She even contemplated leaving him once, I know, but for whatever reason she never did. The year I turned fifteen, the summer before my fifth year at Hogwarts, my parents were in an accident—an accident caused by my father’s drunkenness. My mother was killed and he was arrested. He was found guilty and sentenced to seven years in prison."

"That’s awful," Harry said, shaking his head. "What about you, though?"

"He moved into Malfoy Manor," Draco told him, obviously familiar with this part of the tale.

"That is correct," Severus said, sighing. "Despite having no blood ties to me himself, Abraxas Malfoy invited me to live with his family. ‘After all,’ he told me, ‘you are my son’s younger brother.’ I had known Lucius, of course, though he was five years ahead of me in school and therefore had already graduated at this time. He became a big influence in my life…though even more so after what happened with Lily."

"What happened?" Harry asked, his green eyes widening.

"My mother’s death hit me hard, as you can imagine," Severus told him, "and left me feeling very vulnerable and alone. I became very emotional, though I tried not to let it show, and as such the pranks played on me by Potter and his friends got to me. After one such incident, the most humilitating prank they’d ever pulled, you mother jumped to my defense but instead of being appreciative about it I snapped at her in anger. Your mother’s feelings were hurt by this and she told me our friendship was over. She refused to speak to me for two years after that."

"That must have hurt," Harry said, sadly. "I’d hate it if Ron and Hermione stopped speaking to me."

"Friends are overrated," Draco snorted.

"Everyone needs someone, Draco," Severus told him. "Even you, dragonling."

Draco blushed at the use of his nickname, but didn’t say anything else.

"Now we come to the part of the story I am most ashamed of," Severus told them, a pained expression on his face. "Without my mother or yours to confide in, I felt utterly wretched and miserable. That was when Lucius began to act very ‘brotherly’ towards me. He would play chess with me at night, help me with my homework, and would even help me brew potions sometimes. I grew to trust him, and as such didn’t think anything of it when he asked me to join a group he belonged to."

Draco paled. "The Death Eaters," he whispered, biting his lip. "You-Who-Know-Who’s followers…"

Harry wrinkled his nose. "You dad actually joined a group led by him?!" He asked, disgusted.

Draco scowled at him. "Your father wasn’t perfect, either, Potter," he growled, but then glanced at him. "Uh, I mean…"

Severus chuckled, shaking his head.

"I know what you meant, Draco," he told him, gently. "Yes, Harry, the Dark Lord led this group. I had always had a fascination with the Dark Arts and the Death Eaters promised me they could teach me things I’d never learn from textbooks. Eager to belong somewhere, I readily latched onto them and joined."

With this, he reached and rolled up the sleeve of his right arm.

He tapped it with his wand and tattoo appeared: A skull with a serpent intertwined between the empty eye sockets.

Harry wrinkled his nose. "That’s kinda gross," he said, disgusted.

Draco gasped. "The Dark Mark," he hissed, wincing. "F-Father has one too…but how did you manage to hide it?"

"It took me years to find a way to conceal it," Severus told him. "The Mark is permanent, I am afraid. I am forever branded with my shame…"

He tapped his arm again and the tattoo disappeared from sight once again.

"It is still there," he told them, "but this makes it so I don’t have to constantly conceal my arms…especially during the summer."

"That’s awful," Harry said, "why would You-Know-Who do that to his…uh…followers?"

"Because he is evil and depraved, Harry," Severus told him, "but I am afraid I did not learn that until later. For two years, I was a member of the Death Eaters—the middle of fifth year til the middle of my seventh year, in fact—and believed them to be merely what they seemed to be: a small group of malcontents. Unfortunatley, they were more than that. Just before Christmas break of my seventh year, Lucius informed me that since I was of age I could begin to participate in more…group activities."

Severus paused. Should he tell them the rest?

"What happened?" Harry asked, swallowing. "Please, Sir, I want to know…"

Severus nodded.

I only hope this does not give you nightmares, he thought to himself. Minerva will have my ass if you do!

"This ‘activity’ as it turned out involving going to a muggle home," Severus said. "There was a young woman—a red haired teenager—home alone that night. She reminded me strongly of your mother, Harry. I will not tell you what all occurred, but needless to say Lucius and his friends did terrible things to that poor girl that night…and there was nothing I could do to stop them. It sickened me to the very depths of my soul and it was then that I realized just how evil and depraved the Death Eaters were…especially my own brother."

He glanced at Draco apologetically. The boy merely smirked back at him.

"I know Father’s a bastard, Uncle Sev," the blonde boy told him. "Hell, everybody knows that!"

"Indeed," Severus said, sighing. This once he would not comment on the boy’s language.

Lucius is a bastard, he couldn’t help but think to himself. Unfortunatley, he’s a smart bastard!

"After it was over," Severus said, trying very hard not to remember the poor girl lying in a pool of her own blood, "I confronted Lucius and told him just what I thought of him and his friends. He was not…pleased…to say the least. He…he used Crucio upon me and told me to get back to school where I belonged…since I obviously did not yet have the balls of a full grown man yet…."

"What’s Crucio?" Harry asked, hesitantly.

"An Unforgivable," Draco answered him. "It a curse that sends shocks of electricity and pain through your entire body."

"There are only three curses known by the term Unforgivable, Harry," Severus explained to him. "Crucio is one, then there is a charm that grants the caster the ability to control another’s mind, and the last—the last was used to give you your scar."

"The Killing Curse," Draco said, shuddering. "Only one person has ever survived it." He glanced over at Harry.

"Me," Harry sighed, reaching up touch his forehead. "The bloody Boy-Who-Lived!"

Severus raised an eyebrow at that. It seemed the boy wasn’t as ‘fame’ seeking as he had thought.

"Any one caught using the Unforgivables," he told Harry, "their wand is immediately snapped, they are arrested, and sent to the wizard’s prison Azkaban for the rest of their lives."

"Wow," Harry said, swallowing and then glanced at Draco. "How come your dad’s not there?"

Draco snorted. "Because he’s never been caught," he told him, rolling his eyes. "He’s very…friendly…with the Minister, too."

"At any rate," Severus continued his story, "it was as I lay at my own brother’s feet in agony that I realized Lucius never cared about me—as a brother, as a friend, not even as a comrade—I was just a tool for him, a pawn he could manipulate and control. The realization was nearly, if not more so, as painful as the curse he’d hit me with. In that moment, I knew that I was truly and utterly alone and unwanted."

"I’m sorry, Uncle Sev," Draco told him, quietly. There were tears in his blue eyes.

Harry also gazed at him with sympathy, but he could not bare to see the look in those green eyes.

"After Lucius had left and the pain subsided," Severus said, glancing down at his lap, "I returned to Hogwarts…where I did a very foolish thing. I tried to jump off he astronomy tower."

"B-But why?" Draco asked, shocked.

"Because I was alone and I felt I nothing to truly live for," Severus told him, quietly. "Believe me, I am ashamed of it now and realize how utter reckless it was."

"D-Did somebody stop you?" Harry asked him, curiously. "I mean, I know you didn’t do it…"

"Two people, actually," Severus told him, smirking. "The first was Professor Dumbledore. Just as I was about to climb on the parapet, I was grabbed from behind and turned around. I…I had never seen the Headmaster look so forbidding as he did in that moment…nor have I seen it since. Unfortunately, I was too distraught and caught up in my own self-pity that his inference made me angry. I began fighting him, cursing at him, and I think I even tried to knee him once…"

"You didn’t?!" Harry and Draco both exclaimed at the same time, exchanging shocked looks of dismay.

Severus chuckled. "I did, and he was not happy with me for it," he told them. "Do you remember what I told you last night, Harry, about the last time I was spanked?"

Harry nodded. "You mean…?" he asked, blushing. "That’s when it happened?"

"Oh, yes," Severus said, wincing. "The Headmaster saw I wasn’t thinking clearly and needed to ‘jolt’ me back into my right mind very quickly. He ‘jolted’ me, all right, right over his knee and thrashed my behind ‘til I couldn’t sit for a week!"

"Wow," Draco said. "Who knew Dumbledore had it in him?" Harry nodded in agreement with him.

"Professor Dumbledore," Severus told him, firmly, "is a man with many layers. There is much more to him than meets the eye, trust me."

"Who was the other person?" Harry asked him, curiously. "You said there were two."

"The other was Lily," Severus told him, smiling. "She had been the one to alert Dumbledore to my plight, as it turned out. She had seen me when I returned, saw the haunted look in my eyes, and feared the worst. Once Dumbledore had ‘jolted’ me back to myself, I burst into tears and told him everything. I asked him not to expel me, that I was sorry, and that I nowhere else to go. I was alone."

"What did he say?" Harry and Draco asked at the same time. Both were practically sitting on the edge of their seats.

"He said nothing," Severus told them. "It was Lily he answered me. She knelt down beside me, even though I begged her to leave—as I did not wish her to see me in such a state—but she wouldn’t. She merely told me I wasn’t alone, that I still had her, and that…she loved me. Then, she kissed me."

"Wow," Harry said, smiling. "Gross…but wow!"

Severus chuckled at that.

"It was far from gross, young man," he told him, smiling. "You will see in a few years, I assure you."

"Yeah, yeah," the boys answered, shaking their head.

"After that," Severus said, shrugging, "we talked—a long, long time. Dumbledore even excused us from classes the next day, since we had talked almost the entire night. I told Lily how sorry I was and she told me she hadn’t stopped caring about me and that had gotten over her anger long ago. We became a couple that night—and our relationship blossomed over the next three years after we left Hogwarts. Then, we were married."

Harry opened the album again, glancing at their wedding picture. "You look so happy," he said, quietly.

"We were," Severus assured him. "We were very happy."

"Then, what happened?" Draco asked, frowning. "How’d she’d end with that prat Potter?"

"Hey!" Harry exclaimed, glaring.

"Well, he was," Draco snapped, defensively.

"Enough, boys," Severus told him, firmly. "After we were married, Dumbledore gave us positions—as I said—here at the school, but he also asked me to perform one other task that upset Lily very much. He asked me to re-enter the Death Eaters and spy on them."

"Wasn’t that dangerous?" Harry asked him, frowning.

"Very," Severus nodded, "which is why your mother was opposed to it. Unfortunately, I knew them better than anyone else and knew I could find the information Dumbledore needed to finally end the Dark Lord’s reign of terror forever. Despite this, however, Lily and I continued to have a happy marriage. Until…until the night nine months before your birth, Harry…I was summoned to a battle ensuing between the Death Eaters and the Aurors. I was hit with stunning curse…an advanced one…that left me in a magical coma for five months."

Severus sighed. "The ministry declared me dead," he told them, "and by the time I returned Lily had married James Potter and was about to have you, Harry."

"So," Harry said, "you never knew about me?"

Severus shook his head. "No, your mother never told me," he said, "and as I said…losing her hurt me so much I was nearly crippled with grief. It wasn’t until today that I even contemplated the possibility that you could be mine."

"Is that why you’re always so snarky to me, then?" Harry asked him, curiously. "Because you thought I was James’ son and you hated him for how he treated you at school."

"Not to mention stealing your wife," Draco snorted, shaking his head.

"He did not technically steal her, Draco," Severus said, sighing. "And if by ‘snarky’ you mean overly stern, then yes. That was part of the reason, I suppose…thought the bigger part is your recklessness. Last night was a prime example of that as well as the troll and broom incidents before that."

Harry nodded, swallowing. "T-Thank you for explaining everything," he told him, quietly. "I appreciate it."

"I know this is a shock, Harry," Severus told him, quietly, "and there is much still to discuss…"

"But we need to get to class," Draco said, quickly. "We’ve already missed two already. McGonagall will have our hides if we’re late for hers!"

Severus snorted. "Indeed," he said, chuckling, "but you are correct. We can talk more this evening."

Standing up, he flicked his wand and two pieces of parchment appeared on the side table beside his chair.

He handed one to each boy. "Give this to McGonagall," he instructed them. "It’ll let you make up any work you missed."

"Thanks, Uncle Sev," Draco said at the same time Harry said, "Thank you, Sir."

The dark haired boy set the album down on the side table and then followed Draco to the opening.

They retrieved their backpacks. "Oh, and boys?" Severus called after them, regaining their attention.

"Yes, Sir?" both boys turned to look at him, curiously.

"Do not forget to be in the entrance hall tonight at seven," he told them, seriously. "Your detention hasn’t changed."

"Yes, Sir," Harry told him, echoed by Draco. Then, the turned and headed out the door.

Once they were gone, Severus dropped into his favorite chair and placed his hands on his head.

He still couldn’t quite believe it. The Boy-Who-Lived…was his son. His…not Potters!

He sighed.

SSSSSSSSSS

In her hospital room, the sleeping red headed witch named Lily began to stir…

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…

Harry was really nervous—so nervous, in fact, he had not been able to sleep a wink the night before.

What if I don’t catch the snitch? He thought as he played with his bacon and eggs that morning in the Great Hall.

Would Wood and the others chuck him off the team?

Would McGonagall be so disappointed she really would consider punishing him for the ‘broom incident’?

Would—

"Oi, ‘Arry!" Ron waved a hand in front of his face, gaining his attention. "You all right there, mate?"

"You really should try and eat something, Harry," Hermione told him, gently. "Breakfast is the most important meal of the day, after all. You need all your energy for this afternoon, you know."

"How can I eat, Hermione?" Harry asked her, scowling. "I’m so nervous about the game today—and I’m not even going to get to practice with the team this morning because I’ve to go write a stupid essay for Professor Snape!"

They had been still awake when he returned last night and when asked about the detention that was all he would tell them.

Professor Snape had taken them to the wizard’s hospital to show them an example of what could have happened to them had he not been there to save them. Then, he’d assigned them an essay on what they had learned from the experience.

Wood had not been pleased, not in the least when he’d told him first thing that morning, but he didn’t dare go up against the Potions Master.

Harry had decided to wait a little while longer about telling his friends about Snape being his father…and about Lily, as well.

As selfish as it might have seemed, he liked the idea of having his mother all to himself for a little while…only having to share her with the professor.

Well…there was also Malfoy…but he didn’t really count, he supposed.

He’d better not tell anybody, Harry thought with a scowl.

The professor made it very clear last night before sending them back to their Houses that while Lily was still recuperating it was still ‘absolutely imperative to keep the fiction of her death alive’.

Harry had snickered when he’d said that. It sounded like—what was the word?—like an oxymoron to him.

This hadn’t bothered Harry, as it would give him a chance to really get to know his mother better.

And Snape, too, he thought to himself.

He still wasn’t sure how he felt about the Potions Master being his father yet or not.

It seemed so strange to him that a little over two months ago, when he’d first come to Hogwarts, he’d been an orphan that nobody really cared about.

Now, both his parents were alive and well…and they both seemed to care for him greatly; as did his friends.

So much had happened in such a short amount of time, he could hardly believe it.

His aunt, Petunia, would die of heart failure if she ever found out her ‘freak’ sister was still alive!

Harry chuckled. Uncle Vernon would turn so purple he’d probably explode!

"Wood understands ‘bout things with the professors, mate," Ron told him, smirking. "Fred and George have to miss practice all the time ‘cuz of their detentions…and you don’t see them gettin’ booted off the team, right?"

"Yeah, you’re right," Harry said, draining the last of his pumpkin juice. "We’ll, I’d better go get started on that essay."

"I’ve got some studying to do, too," Hermione told him, smiling. "Right, Ron?"

"Are you kiddin’ me?" the red headed boy snorted. "It’s Saturday! Me and Dean Thomas are plannin’ to play Wizards Chess."

"Fine, then," the bookish girl growled at him. "I’ll just have to discovery who Nicholas Flamel is on my own, then?"

"You go right ahead and do that, then," Ron told her, rolling his eyes at Harry.

Harry shook his head at their bickering, and then got up to head for the dungeons.

He found Snape and Malfoy already there. The blonde haired Slytherin was already working on his essay.

Harry frowned. "How come you weren’t at breakfast?" he asked his cousin—that still sounded so strange to him—curiously.

"I always eat breakfast with Uncle Sev on Saturdays," the Slytherin told him, smirking. "In his quarters…"

"Oh," Harry said, taking out his quill and ink and parchment. He sat down on the stool next to the blonde boy to begin writing.

Why did knowing that the little snake get to spend extra time with the Potions Master bother him so much?

"You’re welcome to start joining us, Harry," Snape spoke up from behind his desk. "I would have mentioned it…but I thought you preferred eating with your friends in the Great Hall."

Harry smiled. Now, why did the man inviting him make him feel so…warm…inside?

"Thank you, Sir," he told the professor. "I might just do that if Ron and Hermione keep bickering the way they are."

"Ooh," Malfoy sneered. "A Gryffindor romance in the making—how positively revolting!"

"That’ll be enough of that, Draco Lucius," Snape told him, firmly. "Keep writing. And I’d get busy, Harry, if I were you. You wish to make it to the game this afternoon, do you not?"

"Yes, Sir," Harry said, and began putting ink to quill and quill to parchment.

As he thought about what he learned last night, remembering the looks of complete and utter nothing in the eyes of Neville’s parents, he bit his bottom lip.

Whoever had done that to them, they were truly evil and depraved.

And that could easily have been you, Harry thought to himself with a shudder.

He wrote his essay, using all three feet of parchment, and then went to hand it to the professor.

Malfoy, he noticed, was still writing—what was he doing? Composing a novel! He’d been at since before he got there, after all.

Snape took it, glanced at it, and nodded. "I’m glad to see you took this seriously," he told him. "Now, I believe you have just enough to make it to the locker room before the game…"

Harry smiled. "Are you going to be there, Sir?" he asked him, curiously.

"Of course," Severus said, snorting. "Albus insists all staff attends the games—plus, I am Head of Slytherin House."

"Oh, right," Harry said, slightly disappointed. He had hoped, just for a moment, he might have been going to watch him play.

Snape gave him a piercing look, then.

"I will be watching you very closely, Harry," he told him, seriously. "So…do be careful. All right?"

Harry smiled at that, hearing the genuine concern in the man’s voice. "I will, Sir," he told him. "I promise."

"We’re gonna mop the floor with you, anyway," Draco bragged, bringing his essay up to the desk.

"In your dreams," Harry shot back, smirking. "You Snakes are going down!"

"Better be careful," Draco told him, smugly. "Snakes bite when they angry."

"Well, Lions roar and bite," Harry informed him, "and their mouths are bigger!"

"But Snake’s are deadlier," Draco retorted. "A runty lion is no match for a full grown snake, Potter."

"Well—" Harry started to say, but Snape interrupted.

"As amusing as watching you two ‘trash talk’ each other is," the Potions Master told them. "I do have better things to do…"

"All right, Sir," Harry said, smiling. "I’m going. See you later!" With that, he turned and ran from the classroom.

He made it to the Gryffindor locker room, changed into his gear, grabbed his borrowed school broom, and then headed for the field.

"Hey, Harry!" Fred or George (he could never tell which was which when they were in the air) called from up above.

"Glad you could make it, mate!" the other Weasley twin called out as well.

"Get on up here, Potter!" Wood called from the goals. "We still have fifteen minutes of practice left!"

Harry smiled, hopped onto his broom, and then kicked off.

The game was scheduled for noon, which meant he had just enough time to 'warm up' before hand.

I hope the professor won't be too disappointed when we wipe the floor with his team, he thought as he began chasing the practice-snitch.

Of course, there was always the chance he wouldn't be the one to catch the snitch...but he had been told not to think that way.

"You gotta always be optimistic," Wood had told him at their first practice. "Otherwise, the other team has already defeated you even before the game's even gotten underway."

Harry took that advice to heart now and brushed his doubts and nerves aside. By the time the practice was over, he was confident he'd get the snitch before the Slytherin Seeker if it was the last thing he did.

The practice ended just as the other team came onto the field and the spectators were getting ready.

It took about fifteen minutes for everybody in the stands to be good and ready, and by then Madame Hooch had called both teams to the center of the field and lectured them on the rules.

"Remember now," she concluded, "I want a nice clean game and good sportsmanship. Understood?"

Both teams nodded an affirmative and she ordered them to mount their broom.

With a blow of her whistle, the two teams launched themselves into the air and the game got underway.

Once the teams were in the air and in position, the four balls were released from their cases.

Harry immediately spotted the snitch, but was prevented from going after it due to one of the bludgers zooming past him.

Fred managed to knock it in the other direction. "You'd best get a bit higher, 'Arry," he advised him and then zoomed after another bludger.

Harry figured he was probably right and eased is broom higher up.

It'll be easier to watch the game and the snitch from here, he thought to himself with a smile.

As he watched, keeping an eye out for the snitch, he [grudgingly] had to admit that the Slytherin team was pretty good.

They did their fair bit of fouling, but then again so did the Weasleys with the bludgers.

Harry glanced down at the stands and found that Ron, Hermione, and Neville were holding a banner with 'Go Gryffindor' and had lion's head that had been enchanted to open and close its mouth...emitting a roaring sound.

"Wicked," Harry muttered, smiling brightly. He gave a little wave and they waved back.

He glanced towards the teachers box, and to his delight found Professor Snape's dark gaze upon him.

Keeping an eye out, eh Professor? Harry thought with a smile. Just like you promised. See? I'm being nice and careful.

Just then, a flash of gold caught his eye and he dove for it. The snitch evaded his hand, however, and flew faster.

Harry increased his speed, stretching out his hand toward it, but was suddenly bumped out of the way by the Slytherin Seeker who'd come up in his blind spot.

"Nice try, Firstie," the Slytherin boy sneered.

"Kiss my arse, you snake, Harry growled inside his head, and raced after the snitch.

Unfortunately, his broom took that moment to start acting funny. It began to shake and wobble; dangerously so, in fact.

Harry heard the spectators gasp as they watched him struggle with the out of control broom, trying very hard to keep upright on it.

He was almost certain he was about to lose his grip and go tumbling to his death below, but then the broom stopped.

As suddenly as it began, the shaking and the wobbling stopped.

Huh, Harry thought frowning, I wonder why?

It didn't really matter, though, as he spotted the snitch again and dove for it. Unfortunately, it was flying lower and lower and just as he reached for it, he pitched too far forward and went tumbling head over rump onto the grass of the field.

Getting back up, he paused and began to wretch...only he didn't. Out of his mouth, into his waiting hands, popped the snitch.

He glanced up and smiled. "I got it!" he cried, waving it about. The applause and cheers that erupted was enough to deafen a herd of elephants.

He'd done it. Gryffindor door had won the first Quidditch match of the year thanks to him.

His teammate flew down and he suddenly found himself tossed onto the Weasley twins' shoulders.

"Potter! Potter! Potter!" Everybody began chanting and cheering.

Harry glanced up, finding Professor McGonagall all but beaming sunshine down upon him. Professor Dumbledore nodded approvingly, but it was to the dark clad man beside him both that he glanced.

Unfortunately, he wasn't there. Harry tried to hide his disappointment.

"Come on, Potter, let's hit the showers," Wood called to him. "There's going to be a celebration in the common room afterwards!"

Harry nodded and followed his team mates back to locker room. He sighed. Where could the Potions Master have gone?

And why...did his absense bother him so much?

HPHPHPHPHP

Severus was not a happy man at that moment.

If I ever find out who set my robes on fire, he thought savagely, they'll wish to be expelled when I'm through with them!

The same was true of whoever had put that jinx on his son's broom. When Harry's broom began to shake and wobble so dangerously, he had all but had a heart attack right then and there.

Lily would never forgive him if he let anything happen to their son. He had promised to protect him no matter what.

Once he realized that the boy wasn't simply losing concentration or anthing like that, he'd quickly began casting a counter-jinx spell under his breath.

The spell required him to not break eye contact, the same as a jinx spell did, and he hadn't until robe had caught on fire.

He'd been so startled by that, he'd fallen backward and knocked that idiot Quirell off his seat onto his duff, as well.

Miraculously, though, Harry's broom stopped shaking and wobbling and the foolish boy went into a head long dive after the snitch.

He had stayed just long enough to see the boy upchuck the snitch, but then he had to go put some Heal-All Burn salve on his leg.

Now, though, he had to go retrieve his son. They had an appointment with a few of the shops in Diagon Alley.

Reaching the entrance to Gryffindor Tower, he was met by a cold stare from the Pink Lady.

"Yes, something I can help you with?" she asked him, snottily. "We don't appreciate having snakes in this part of the castle, you know."

Don't push it, painting, Severus thought angrily, otherwise you'll find yourself being burnt to crisp by this snake!

"I wish entrance," he informed her, coldly. "I need to discuss something with one of my students."

"Password, please?" the portrait asked, snidely. She, naturally, assumed he wouldn't know the current one.

He smirked. "Godric's Grace," he informed her, unable to keep the smugness out of tone.

The Pink Lady scowled at him. "Oh, drat," she said, and then swung open.

Chuckling to himself, he stepped through the portrait. Just as he figured, a party was underway in celebration of the little lions victory.

However, the moment he stepped into their presence everything stopped. Silence filled the room and every eye was upon him.

He scanned the room, narrowing his eyes as he searched, and then smirked.

"Potter!" he growled. "To me!" He pointed to the floor in front of him.

Harry shoved past the Weasley twins, and came to do as he said. "Sir?" he asked, obviously puzzled by his presence.

Severus glared down at him. Better make this look good, he thought to himself.

"That essay you wrote for me this morning, Potter," he growled at the boy, sternly. "It was abyssmal, to say the least!"

"It was?" Harry frowned, blinking up at him.

Severus gave him a very pointed look.

"Oh!" Harry said, obviously understanding now what he was doing. "It was...well, I'm sorry about that, Professor, I was just so nervous 'bout the game and everything..."

"I want non of your excuses," Severus growled at him. "I allowed you to play this afternoon simply because I did not wish to hear the pathetic meowling of a bunch of half-grown cubs! However, the game is over and you will now come back to the dungeons with me and write that essay over...properly, this time!"

"Oh, all right, Sir," Harry said, a look of disappointment on his face, "but can't I come when the party is over?"

"No, you may not," Severus growled at him, firmly. "I don't negotiate punishments with my students, Mr. Potter, and this idiotic celebration is liable to last until curfew. Come, now."

Harry nodded and started to follow him out of the Tower.

"But, 'Arry," Ron called, wide-eyed. "You can't! He..."

"It's all right, Ron," Harry assured him, "I'll be all right. You and Hermione enjoy have a good time."

Rolling his eyes, Severus pushed open the door and grabbing the boy by the collar yanked him through the portrait hole.

Once outside, he shook his head. "Gryffindors!" he growled, sneering. "Honestly!"

Harry chuckled beside him. "They were just afraid you were gonna make me into potions’ ingredients," he told him, cheekily.

"You’d ruin any potion I’d put you in, I’m sure of it," Severus told him, snorting. "Come along."

Harry followed. "There wasn’t really anything wrong with my essay," he said, hesitantly. "Was it?"

"No, of course," Severus told him, smirking. "It was a rather decent piece of writing…though your handwriting isn’t much to be desired."

"Uh, yeah, I’m still trying to get the knack of writing with a quill," Harry admitted, sheepishly.

"I’ve been telling Albus for years we needed to do an orientation-type class for all Muggleborns," Severus said, shaking his head. "Maybe now that it is his Golden Boy in need of it he might actually listen."

Harry wrinkled his nose. "I’m not, am I?" he asked. "His…pet?"

"He has his reasons for favoring you," Severus told him, "but that is not the point. Your essay was fine. I simply needed an excuse to haul you out of there that sounded legitimate."

"Why?" the boy asked him, curiously.

"Would you have preferred me to waltz in there and say ‘Come with me, Harry, we need to go shopping for you some new clothes’?" Severus asked him, knowingly.

"Uh, no," Harry answered, turning red with embarrassment.

"That is what I thought," Severus said, smirking. "Clothes aren’t the only thing on our agenda…you shall be getting your eyes examined properly and new glasses, as well."

"The glasses would be nice, Sir," Harry told him, "but why do I need new clothes?"

Severus stopped, glancing down at what the boy was wearing.

"Because those," he pointed to the overly large t-shirt and blue jeans, "aren’t clothes. They are tents!"

Harry snickered at that. "Dudley is a bit on the big side, Sir," he told him, honestly.

"I am hardly surprised," Severus snorted. "However, his hand-me-downs aren’t fitting attire for you. We are going to rectify that. For now, though…"

He took out his wand and shrunk the boys shirt and pant until they looked like they weren’t swallowing him whole.

"That will have to do," he said, sighing. "Now, let’s be off. I’d like to get back here before dark."

"Are you going to wear your robes, Sir?" Harry asked him, curiously.

Severus stopped again, glancing down at his own attire. "No, certainly not," he told him. Taking out his wand, he transfigured his teaching robes into a gray turtleneck jumper and long black leather coat.

"Wicked," Harry said, smiling. "I like the coat."

"Thank you," Severus said, tying his hair back. "Now, come." He then led the boy out of the castle towards Hagrid’s hut.

"Are we going to Apparate again, Sir?" Harry asked him, curiously. The look on his face said he didn’t really relish the idea.

Severus shook his head. "Not this time," he informed him, grinning. "We shall be travelling by Floo."

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

"Do you remember how I sent you back to Gryffindor Tower the other night?" Severus asked him. "Via my fireplace?"

Harry nodded. "Yes, Sir," he answered.

"That is a variation on the Floo-network," Severus explained. "Every fireplace in Hogwarts is connected one to the other so that if necessary we may go from place to another quickly—as Apparition is not allowed but in certain places on the grounds. Two fireplaces, however, are connected to the outside Floo system…the one in the Headmaster’s office and Hagrid’s."

"Oh," Harry said, seemingly understanding. "We’re gonna use Hagrid’s fireplace, then?"

Severus nodded. "We are," he told him, gently. Reaching the Groundskeeper’s hut, he knocked on the door.

Loud barking was hear, followed by, "Back, Fang! Back, boy, I say!" and then Hagrid opened the door.

He smiled at the sight of them. "Sev’rus! Harry!" he exclaimed happily, but then frowned in confusion. "I wasn’t expectin’ ya, was I?"

"No, Hagrid," Severus told him, "and apologize for dropping in unannounced but we need to use the Floo. May we?"

"Oh, a’course, Sev’rus," Hagrid said, smiling. "Come on in! By the way, Harry, that was a great game you played. You were terrific!"

"Thanks, Hagrid," Harry told the gentle half-giant. "But I just got lucky, that’s all."

"Phaw!" Hagrid scoffed. "Luck my---uh, big toe…you’re a natural, no question about it. Would yaw’ll like some scones. I just gotten out of the oven!"

Severus felt his stomach lurch at the thought. Good friend though he was, Hagrid’s baking skills were less than desirable.

"Uh no, thank you," he told him, "but we really must be going. Young Mister Potter is in need of some things from Diagon Alley and since Minerva is too busy with her Ass. Headmistress duties she asked me to take him…"

Going to the fireplace, Severus took some Floo powder from the earthen-ware jar Hagrid kept it in, and then threw it into the flames.

"The Leaky Cauldron!" he called out, watching as the flames turned green and expanded to form a magical doorway leading into the magical pub.

"You go first, Mr. Potter," Severus told him, gently tapping his head with his wand.

Harry nodded and stepped through, and then he followed him. Once through, he waved his wand and cancelled the spell.

"Afternoon, Professor," Tom, the bar keep of the Cauldron, greeted him. "Doin’ a bit of shopping, are you?"

"Yes, Tom," Severus said, "and I must really get to it. Good day." With that, he ushered Harry through the back and out into the alley.

The boy frowned up at him, seemingly confused about something.

"That was odd," he said, puzzled. "He didn’t even say hi to me like he did before when Hagrid brought me to get my school stuff."

"That is probably because he did not recognize you," Severus told him, seriously. "Before I sent you through the Floo, I put a small glamour charm on you to conceal your true identity."

"Why?" Harry asked, curiously.

"Because," Severus told him, truthfully. "I did not wish to be mobbed by every witch and wizard wanting to shake the hand of the Boy-Who-Lived."

"Oh," Harry said, wincing. "Right. We’d never get anything done that way."

"Precisely," Severus said, "which is why the spell I cast conceals your scar and true eye color. Anybody who asks, I will simply tell them you are one of my Slytherin students in need of a few things. As a Head of House, it is my responsibility to make certain every student in my House has the essentials that they need—that’s why ever First Year’s trunk gets a thorough examining by me at the beginning of the year."

"Professor McGonagall doesn’t do that," Harry told him, as he [Severus] tapped the bricks that would let them into Diagon Alley.

"That is because she, like Flitwick and Sprout, are of the opinion that blood equals love and care," Severus told him, guiding into the magical marketplace. "I, however, know differently. Now, come. Our first visit is to the optometrist…"

Harry got is eyes checked using a spell that apparently read the strength and/or weakness of his eyes.

The witch doing the exam, tsked a bit, but then wrote something on a piece of parchment.

"Your new glasses will be ready by the end of the day," she informed him, "would you like to pick out new frames?"

"Sure," Harry told her, smiling.

Severus watched as he took his time to examine each and every frame before making his choice. He finally chose a set of wire-rim frames that had moons and stars twinkling on the ear pieces.

"Do you like them, Sir?" he turned to him and asked, curiously.

"It is not whether I like them that counts," Severus told him, gently. "It only matters that you like them."

"I know," Harry told him, "but do you think they look good on me?" He put the frames on again.

"They look a far cry better than the ones you had before," Severus said, and then smirked. "Why? Trying to impress a special young lady, are we?"

"NO!" Harry said, quickly. "Of course not, Sir!" His face was red with embarrassment.

Severus chuckled. "I was only teasing," he assured him, gently. "No need to fly into hysterics you Gryffindors are famous for."

"Here’s your receipt," the mediwitch informed them. "Simply send the money back with the owl that delivers the glasses."

"Thank you," Severus informed her, pocketing the receipt. "We shall." With that, he ushered Harry from the shop.

"Uh, Sir?" Harry said, hesitantly. "I think we need to go to Gringotts."

"Whatever for, Harry?" Severus asked him, curiously.

"I need to get money from my vault," Harry told him. "How else am I going to pay for my new glasses and clothes and stuff?"

"Simple," Severus told him, "you won’t be. I will."

"But, Sir—" Harry started to protest, but he held up a hand to forestall him.

"I am your father, Harry," Severus told him, quietly. "It is my responsibility to see that you are provided for with clothes and the like. You do not have to worry about using the money in that vault ‘til you come of age. As a matter of fact, technically speaking, the money is no longer yours."

"It isn’t?" Harry asked, frowning.

"Even though you are James Potter’s heir," Severus explained to him, "your mother is his widow—therefore, until you come of age, she is the owner of that vault—now that is awake, that is."

"Oh," Harry said, quietly. "All right then, Sir. Where to now?"

"Now, we—" Severus started to say, but a hand his shoulder stopped him.

"Why, Severus," a silky, familiar voice proclaimed from behind him. "I thought that was you I saw coming out of the ‘Eye Of’ shop!"

Severus spun around to find himself face to face with his older half-brother, Lucius Malfoy.

He resisted the urge to push Harry behind him out of sight. He won’t recognize him, he reminded himself sharply.

"Hello, Lucius," Severus said, placing a neutral expression on his face. "I was not expecting to see you here, either."

"I needed something from Knockturn," Lucius told him, smirking. "But what brings you here in the middle of the school year? And who is this?"

The blonde haired man sneered down his aristocratic nose at Harry, who glared up at him.

"One of my little snakes," Severus explained, simply. "He was in need of getting his eyes re-checked."

"Surely his parents could see to that," Lucius said, "or has that dunering old coot have playing nursemaid now."

"His guardians, for he is an orphan, are currently abroad," Severus lied, simply and smoothly. "As his Head of House, the responsibility fell to me."

"Ah, I see," Lucius said, snidely. "I sometimes wonder how you manage not to strangle all those brats!"

"It takes some effort," Severus told him, feeling his face tensing, "but I manage it."

"Humph," Lucius sniffed. "At any rate, I trust Draco is behaving himself as befits a Malfoy?"

"He is doing well," Severus told him, sincerely.

"And his school work? It is top notch?" Lucius asked, narrowing his eyes. "Draco knows better than to…disappoint…me."

"His marks are acceptable," Severus told him, again honestly.

"I keep telling Narcissa not to send him all those sweets and things," Lucius said, snorting, "that all the coddling she is doing is making him weak. I swear, sometimes I wonder why I even married the empty headed bitch!"

Severus clenched his jaw, tightly.

Narcissa might be a bit vain and self-absorbed at times, he thought angrily to himself, but she is hardly ‘empty headed’, you sniveling bastard!

"Oh, I remember," Lucius continued speaking, snidely, "she was a Black…and her body wasn’t too bad, either." He chuckled, coldly.

"It could have been worse," Severus told him, smirking wickedly. "You could have married Bellatrix."

Lucius snorted.

"Yes, well, luckily she was already married to LeStange," he said, sneering. "Of course, that stupid blood-traitor Andromeda would have been even worse!"

"Indeed," Severus said, through clenched teeth.

You aren’t good enough to kiss Andromeda’s backside, let alone marry her! He thought to himself. Ted is ten times the man you are and then some!

"I understand that he has come to Hogwarts this year," Lucius said, glancing at him out of the corner of his eye. "Tell me, how is the little wretch Potter doing these days?"

Severus’grip on Harry’s shoulder tightened considerably, warning him not to let anything show—no matter what was said.

Forgive me, son, but I will explain once he is gone, he promised his boy silently.

"He is an irresponsible fame-seeker who lives to make my life a living hell," Severus lied, quickly. "He breaks school rules constantly and gets patted on the head instead of smacked across the rear."

"Indeed," Lucius said, smirking. "Sound much like his wretched father to me. I don’t suppose—"

"You know Dumbledore has wards about him," Severus growled, hoping nothing showed on his face. "Nobody can touch the brat!"

"Of course, of course," Lucius said, waving his hand as if it were no consqeunces. "Oh well, the little brat will be dealt with eventually."

Severus felt his heart leap into his throat. "Oh?" he asked him, raising an eyebrow. "How so?"

Lucius smirked. "That I cannot say," he told him, smiling maliciously, "but he will end up just like his Mudblood bitch of a mother, I assure."

It took every once of control Severus had in his body at that moment not to go for his wand and slit the man right down the middle with a good Slicing Charm!

"Well, Severus, it has been nice," Lucius told him, "but I must be going—the Minister can’t last an hour without me there, the stupid fool! But, then, I guess he’s a useful fool… Good day, little brother."

With a salute of his cane, the man turned and walked toward left.

"Uh, Sir?" Harry said, wincing. "You’re, uh, kinda hurting my shoulder!"

Severus let go and glanced at him, apologetically. "I am sorry about that," he told him, rubbing his shoulder gently.

"It’s okay," Harry told him. "So…that’s Malfoy’s dad?"

"It was, indeed," Severus told him, sighing.

"He’s a real bastard, isn’t he?" Harry asked, curiously.

"Language, Harry," Severus chided, gently, "but you are correct. He is indeed that."

Harry shook his head. "I wanted to kick him right in his family jewels for what he said about Mum," he told him, as they continued on their way.

I wanted to cut his family jewels off, Severus thought with a snort, and make him eat them…

"One day," Severus told him, "he will get what’s coming to him. Trust me on that. What goes around comes around, as they say."

Harry nodded. "Where are we going now, Sir?" he asked, curiously.

"The Muggles Apparel shop," Severus told him, "and then…I have a surprise for you."

"Really?" Harry asked, wide-eyed. "What kind of surprise?"

Severus chuckled. "You shall see," he promised, "but only if you behave yourself."

"I will," Harry promised, as he ushered him into the clothing shop.

Thirty-five minutes later, they exited. Harry now had a brand new wardrobe complete with casual, semi-casual, and formal wear.

He also had new underwear, socks, and three pairs of shoes: trainers, boots, and dress shoes.

"Before we go to our final planned destination," Severus told him, "is there anything else you are need of?"

"Well," Harry thought. "Hedwig needs some more owl-treats, and I need some more ink, and…um, well…can we buy Mum something?"

Severus smiled. "An excellent idea," he told him, pleased with the boy’s thoughtfulness. "What should we get her, do you think?"

"I don’t know," Harry said, scrunching his face up in thought. "Maybe, since she’s got to stay in the hospital awhile, maybe some books so she’ll have something to read other than magazines…"

"Your mother has always enjoyed a good book," Severus said, "and we can pick up you more quills and in while we’re in Flourish and Blotts."

Making a quick stop at the pet shop to get Harry’s snowy owl some treats, they then headed for the bookshop.

They got Lily a total of seven books: two on Charms, two on Potions, and two on Defense Spells, and one copy of Grimm’s Fairytales.

"Why that one?" Harry asked him, as the went to get him some more ink and quills.

"The first story in it is ‘Sleeping Beauty’," Severus told him, smirking. "Your mother will appreciate the irony, trust me."

"Oh," Harry said, obviously thinking that he was out of his mind. "If you say so."

"I do," Severus told him, "now let’s get what we need and head to our last stop."

They paid for the books, quills, and ink and then headed across the street to the shop that nearly every boy—and quite a few girls, too—and young man drooled at the window whenever the passed it.

"The Quidditch Shop!" Harry exclaimed, wide-eyed. "What are we doing here?"

Severus chuckled. "You shall see," he told him, smirking. They entered the shop.

"Good afternoon," the sales wizard, a young man Severus vaguely recognized, greeted them. "How can I help you today?"

Severus placed an arm around Harry shoulders. "He is need of a new broom," he told him. "Which would you recommend?"

He ignored the gasp that came from the boy beside him, as well as the awed look in the green eyes that stared up at him wonder.

"That’d be the Nimbus 2000," the young man, whom Severus was certain was a former student, told him. "No better broom in all of Britain!"

"Indeed," Severus said, nodding. He’d heard much the same from others. "May we see one, please?"

"Of course," the young man said, going into the back of the shop and returning with a sleek, well-polished, broom. "Here you go, Sir?"

Severus took the broom, examining it. "It will do," he said, simply. "What do you think?" He glanced down at Harry.

"I think it’s the greatest thing I’ve ever saw!" Harry said, awed. "It’s bloody wicked!"

"Language," Severus scolded him, sternly, "otherwise you might find sitting on it rather uncomfortable."

Harry blushed at that. "Sorry, Sir," he said, "but it really is a great broom. All the guys on the team have been talking about them!"

Severus nodded. "You’ll be the envy of everyone then," he told him, smirking. "We’ll take it."

The young man nodded, winking at Harry. "All your year-mates will be just green," he told him, as he wrapped the broom. "That’ll be 200 Galleons, Sir."

Severus nodded, reaching into his inside pocket and retrieving a small bag of gold coins. "This should cover it," he told him, handing the young man the bag.

The young man quickly did a small ‘add-it-all’ spell to check the amount and nodded. He handed him the wrapped broom.

"Enjoy," he told them, "and come again."

"You bet!" Harry called back over his shoulder as they exited the store.

"I believe that takes care of everything, Harry," Severus told him. "We can now return to the school."

"Sir?" Harry asked, hesitantly. "W-Why did you buy me that broom? I mean, it’s totally the best present I’ve ever gotten…but it just cost so much."

"Do not worry about that," Severus told him. "I brought you this broom for my own piece of mind, as well as for your safety. The next game you play shall be on a broom that no one save you or I has touched. I will place extra anti-jinx spells on it that will ensure nothing like what happened today happens again."

"It really scared you, didn’t it?" Harry asked him, curiously. "Me nearly falling?"

Severus swallowed. "More than you can possibly imagine," he told him, clearing his throat.

Suddenly, he found himself being clung to my an emotional eleven year old who had thrown his arms around him and was trying to squeeze all the air out of him, apparently.

Feeling a lump rise in his throat, Severus gently returned the hug as best he could with the large broomstick in his arms and then patted the boy’s back gently.

"Now then, Harry," he told him, "we really must be getting back to the school…"

The boy nodded, disentangling himself from him. "Yes, Sir," he told him, smiling. "I just wanted to say ‘thanks’."

Severus smiled down at him. "You are quite welcome," he told him, but then gave him a stern look. "But the first time I catch you doing a outrageous aerial stunt like you did before…not only will your hide be mine, but so will this broom. Understand?"

Harry nodded. "Yes, Sir," he told him. "I’ll be careful. I promise."

"Uh huh," Severus said, smirking. "We shall see how long that promise lasts. Come on now, Fledgling, let’s be off."

Harry nodded and the two of them headed back toward the Leaky Cauldron.

Severus, ever so slightly, reached out and placed a hand on Harry’s head as they walked.

For the first time since discovering the truth about him and Harry, this was the first time he actually felt like a father.

What a truly amazing feeling! He couldn’t help but think to himself.

And it was one he never wanted to end.

Ever.

SSSSSSSSSS

Lily smiled as Harry regaled her with the highlights from his first Quidditch match.

"And then, Mum," he told her, his young face completely animated, "I ended up on the grass cuz I over tilted my broom…but guess what? I had already caught the snitch—in my mouth!"

"Yes, the sight of you about to sick up was the absolute highlight of the day," Severus spoke from where he was sitting, rolling his eyes. "It made everybody positively giddy with excitement!"

"Don’t tease him, Sev," Lily told him, smiling at their son. "Harry has every right to feel proud of himself."

"And I am exceedingly proud of him, as well," Severus told her, smirking. "Of course, the Slytherin Seeker this year is a tad bit slower than the ones we’ve had in the past…"

"Oh, c’mon," Harry snorted. "I’m just better than him, that’s all."

"Indeed," Severus said, standing up. Reaching into a trouser pocket, he brought out a handful of Sickles.

"Why don’t you go ask Gretchen to show you to the cafeteria," he told Harry. "I could use a cup of tea and I am sure you must be quite dehydrated after talking nonstop for well over an hour."

"Oh, okay," Harry said, taking the money. "Do you want anything, Mum?"

"Oh, no, Sweetheart," Lily told him, smiling. "But thank you, anyway. The books you brought me were more than enough."

Harry nodded. "All right," he told her, "I’ll be right back." He then turned and raced from the room.

"No running in the corridors!" Severus scolded after him, to no avail. He sighed.

Lily chuckled. "He has a lot of energy, doesn’t he?" she asked him, smirking.

He gave her a pained look. "What eleven year old doesn’t?" he asked her, grinning.

He came back over and sat down on the edge of the bed. He took her hand in his. "How are you?" he asked her, curiously.

"I doing all right," she told him, shrugging. "The potions Gretchen keeps giving me is helping restore my strength—though she says it’ll have to be a slow process at first. I’m beginning to get a little bit of feeling back into my legs, at least. And can lift my arms a bit."

"That’s good," Severus told her, smiling. "I am glad you and Gretchen are getting along so well. I guess I made the right choice in your nurse."

"Yes, you did," Lily told him, and then eyed him shrewdly. "What’s on your mind, Sev?"

He looked up at her, looking sheepish. "Am I that transparent?" he asked her, curiously. "I thought I was better at hiding my feelings than that."

"You are," Lily told him, smirking, "but not to someone who knows you as well as I do. Now, you sent Harry out so I know you want to talk about something in private. What is it?"

Severus sighed, gesturing with his wand to place a silencing charm on the door.

"Why, Lily?" he asked her, staring into her eyes. "Why didn’t you tell me about Harry?"

Lily swallowed, avoiding his intense gaze for a moment. She had been wondering when or even if he’d get around to asking her that.

"After that night," she told him, looking into his eyes once more, "after the battle when they…they told me you were dead. I didn’t want to believe it—no, I didn’t believe it. Even when the Ministry legally declared it."

"But, then why—?" Severus started to interrupt and she stopped him with a look.

"Because, I found out I was expecting Harry," she told him, truthfully. "I knew that if word go out I was pregnant, people would start to wonder who the father was—after all, only a handful of people knew about us. I knew someone, somewhere would dig until they found out the truth and if it was learned that you—a supposed Death Eater—had fathered a child with a Muggleborn witch…"

"My life would have been forfeit," Severus said, nodding.

"I couldn’t let that happen," Lily told him, firmly. "I wouldn’t let that happen. I also had Harry to think about, for you know they would have come for us once they were finished for you."

"Is this where Potter comes in?" Severus asked, only the bariest traces of scorn entering his tone.

Lily nodded. "James had grown up so much by then," she told him, "and he had always cared about me. I told him what was happening and he agreed to help me protect Harry. We agreed to marry—everybody had always thought we’d make the perfect couple, so if was pregnant beforehand then nobody would think much about it…"

"How fortunate," Severus scowled.

"But then," Lily swallowed, "you returned and I was devastate all over again because I still could not tell you the truth. You were still a spy, after all."

"Damn Albus for ever asking me," Severus growled, angrily. "And damn me twice over for agreeing!"

"Somebody had to do it," she reminded him, "and you were the best one for the job—though I hated it at the time and still do."

Severus nodded, kissing her hand. "Go on, love," he told her. "I’m listening."

"James was very kind, Severus," she told him. "He even agreed that once things were safe—absolutely safe—that we’d get out marriage annulled and I’d be free to be with you again."

"Potter actually said that?" Severus asked, looking pained. "Damn him—now I owe him twice!"

"Oh, Sev," Lily said, shaking her head. "Then, Harry was born and James absolutely loved him, Severus, and he was good to him. He made him his heir and gave him his name…"

"A name I suppose he will have to keep," Severus said, quietly. "I can give him that much, for protecting the two of you like he did."

"How about we hyphenate it, instead," Lily suggested, smiling. "Let him be Harry James Potter-Snape."

"Lord, what a mouthful," Severus grinned, "but I like it. We’ll have to wait and see, at any rate."

Lily nodded. "Despite the danger," she went on, "I fully intended to tell you on Harry’s first birthday…but that was the day we got word we were being targeted and we had to go under the Fidelus charm."

"I remember," Severus said, quietly. "Then, came that awful night on Halloween."

"Yes," Lily said, feeling tears sting her eyes. "Oh, Sev, can you ever forgive me?"

Severus looked as if she’d slapped him. "Lily Jane Evans!" he exclaimed, using her full name. "What’s is there to forgive? You did what you had t do to protect our son! How can I fault for that? I’d be the biggest bloody bastard in all of Britain if I did!"

Lily snorted at that, chuckling. "Try saying that again five times fast," she told him.

He smirked, reaching out to touch his cheek. "I’ve missed you beyond word, my Lily," he told her. "All these years, I’ve never stopped loving you."

"Nor I you, Severus," she told him, truthfully. "In my heart, you were always my true husband."

"And very soon," he promised her, "I shall be again." He leaned in close to her and kissed her passionately on the lips.

"Hey, Professor, I got your—" Harry came dashing back in at that moment, stopping in his tracks.

He was blushing from the very tips of his hair to toes, no doubts.

Lily snickered, as she heard Severus snorted. "Kids," she whispered at him. "They have perfect timing."

"Indeed," Severus said, glaring at their son. "It looks like we are going to have to have a talk about knocking rather than barging in."

"Uh," Harry said, "sorry. I brought your tea, Sir."

Severus stood up and took it. "We need to be going, Harry," he told him, gently.

"Ah, but we just got here," Harry complained, poutingly. "And I still have a lot to tell Mum!"

"I’m not going anywhere, Sweetheart," Lily promised him. "At least, not for a while. We’ll have time to talk when you visit again next weekend."

"And you can always write her, too," Severus told him, "but I need to go get things ready for this week’s Potions classes and I know you have homework you haven’t yet finished."

"Oh, yeah," Harry said, sheepishly. "Right. Bye, Mum." He came and gave her a hug and kiss on the cheek.

"Be good, Sweetie," she told him. "Don’t drive your dad to distaction, all right?"

"I won’t," Harry promised him. "Well, not much…"

Severus groaned at that. "Out of the way, brat," he said, gently pushing the boy aside. "Farewell, love. Listen to Gretchen."

"I will," she promised him, kissing him again. "See you soon."

He nodded. "Soon," he said, and then turned to usher Harry out the door once more.

Lily smiled. Yes, my love, she thought to herself.

It was now the first of December, Christmas break was only about a week away…

"And we’re still no closer to figuring out who Nicholas Flamel is!" Hermione said, frustrated.

"Or what ‘Fluffy’ is guarding?" Harry added, quietly.

"Or why Snape wants to murder ‘Arry…?" Ron put in, scribbling on a piece of parchment.

They were in the library, during their free period.

Harry and Hermione were busy researching, while Ron was desperately trying to complete his Transfiguration homework by the time class started right after lunch.

Harry wrinkled his nose at his best friend’s comment.

He still hadn’t told them that Snape was his father…or that his mother was alive, either.

Both go hand in hand, Harry thought to himself, but I’ll tell them after Christmas break. I promise.

"I honestly don’t think Snape was trying to jinx my broom," Harry told them, sighing. "He might have been wishing me to fall…but that’s about it."

"Harry," Hermione sighed, "as much as I would like to believe no teacher would ever harm one of his own students…I told you what I saw. Snape wasn’t even blinking…"

"Yeah, I know," Harry said, sighing. "But didn’t the textbook say ‘anti-jinx’ spells also require the person to not blink, either."

"Hmm," Hermione said, "that is true, but—"

"But Snape’s a mean old git, mate!" Ron growled at him, angrily. "He’s been nothin’ but a snarky ole bat to you since our first potions’ class! Why are you defendin' him!?"

"I’m not," Harry said, quickly. "It’s just…like Hermione said. I don’t want to think a teacher would intentionally hurt me, okay? Hogwarts is the only place I’ve ever felt safe and wanted, remember? I’d like it to stay that way, okay?"

"Oh, yeah," Ron said, blinking at him sheepishly. "Uh, right…I’m sorry, mate. You know my big mouth runs away from me sometimes."

Sometimes? Harry smirked. "Its okay, Ron," he told him. "I know you can’t help being a prat."

"Yeah, I—Hey!" Ron said, realizing what he’d said. He gave him a playful shove in response.

Harry laughed, and retaliated with a playful punch to his best friend’s arm—eliciting a small yelp from the red headed boy.

"Shhh!" Hermione hissed at them. "You know how Madame Pince feels about ‘horse-playing’. If she kicks us out we’ll never find out anything!"

Harry nodded, knowing she was right.

"Yeah," he said, closing his book. "We’ve been in here about an hour and its kinda stuffy. I think I’ll go get some fresh air. Okay?"

"Go on, ‘Arry," Ron told him, sighing. "Wish I could, but…" He held up his quill and parchment.

Hermione sniffed. "You should have thought of that while you were playing that barbaric game ‘til curfew last night instead of doing your homework like you were supposed to," she scolded him, disdainfully.

"Well," Ron said, turning red. "Least I know how to have some fun!"

Harry quickly headed out of the library, knowing full well when to get out of dodge.

Outside snow had started to fall, and a crisp December wind was blowing.

Before heading out, Harry had grabbed his coat, gloves, and scarf, and had stopped by the owlery to retrieve Hedwig.

"Here you go, girl," he told her, stroking the soft feathers on her head. "The perfect flying weather…Go on, spread your wings!"

He watched as she took to the air, her wings pumping furiously ‘til she got enough height so that she simply could glide on the gusts of air that were blowing.

She sure is a beautiful creature, Harry thought bemusedly to himself. She makes flying look so easy…

"Oh, Mr. Potter, there you are," Professor McGonagall called to him, gaining his attention.

"Hello, Professor," Harry greeted the older witch, politely.

"You haven’t forgotten we have class this afternoon, I trust," the Transfiguration teacher said, smiling.

Harry shook his head. "No, ma’am," he told her, truthfully. "I was just getting some fresh air and letting Hedwig get some exercise."

The professor glanced up into the sky, smiling at the sight of the snowy owl.

"Beautiful," she commented, before returning her sharp gaze to him. "I just wanted to let you know I’ve posted a list on the entrance to the Great Hall. It’s for any student who will be staying here at school for the Christmas holidays. I understand from Professor Dumbledore that you shall be one of them. Correct?"

Harry nodded. As if I’d want to go back to the Dursleys, he thought with a silent snort.

"Yes, ma’am, that’s right," he said, quietly.

"Well, then, just be sure to go by and sign your name on the list," she told him, "and enjoy your fresh air. I’ll see you class in a little bit." She then turned and headed back inside.

Harry sighed. He started walking from the courtyard out onto the grounds proper, following the pattern of Hedwig’s flight.

When he neared the lake, he heard the distinctive sound of someone crying and frowned.

Following the sound, he was very surprised—and more than a little shocked—to find that the person crying was Malfoy!

Harry frowned. What could he possibly have to cry about?

The blonde haired Slytherin was sitting against the trunk of a large pine tree, his knees drawn up with his arms crossed over them. His head was down, but the sound of sniffling and sobbing was heard quite clearly.

Harry took a step toward him, causing a twig hidden under some snow to break and snap.

Malfoy’s head flew up, his eyes widening at the sight of him. He quickly stood up, brushing at the obvious tear stains that were on his cheeks.

"What do you want, Potter?" he growled at him, angrily.

Harry merely shrugged. "I was just taking a walk," he told him. "I heard you crying and—"

"I wasn’t crying!" Malfoy growled at him. "Malfoys don’t cry!"

Harry gave him a withering look, one that almost resembled one of Professor Snape’s dreaded gazes.

"C’mon, Mal—uh, Draco," Harry said, attempting to be civil with the other boy for once, "it’s just you and me out here. Nobody’s around. Nobody will see if we actually talk to each other for a minute."

"I have nothing to talk to you about," Malfoy told him, sneeringly.

"You could try," Harry told him, going over and sitting down against the trunk. "C’mon, I don’t bite." He patted the ground beside him.

Malfoy glared down at him a moment, but then sighed.

"All right," he consented, and sat down on the ground next to him. "But nobody better find out about this."

Harry snorted. "They won’t," he said, shaking his head. "Now, what’s the problem?"

Malfoy shrugged. "You wouldn’t understand," he told him, quietly.

"Try me," Harry told him, smirking. "I might surprise you."

"Yeah, right," Malfoy said, but then huffed. "I got a letter from my father today…"

"Oh," Harry said, biting his lip. "Bad news?"

Having had an upclose encounter with Lucius Malfoy, he would have thought any news from the man was bad!

"Just that Mother is going to France for Christmas," Draco told him, sniffing. "Father said he would be entiredly too busy over the break and that I would be better off staying here at school."

"Oh," Harry said, biting his lip again.

Draco scowled at him. "Is that all you can say is ‘oh’?" he asked him, sneeringly. "See? I knew you wouldn’t understand!"

"I understand you don’t like having to stay here for Christmas," Harry told him. "You’re not the only one, though. I’m staying, too."

"Oh, great," Draco said, rolling his eyes. "That makes me fill loads better!"

Harry chuckled at that. "C’mon, quit being a prat," he told him, shoving him gently. "I just meant that you’re not the only one having stay. Aren’t there any other Slytherins staying?"

"No," Draco said, bitterly. "Even Crabbe and Goyle’s fathers want them home, but not mine!"

Why would you want to go to him, anyway? Harry thought, but then felt ashamed of it.

Malfoy couldn’t help his dad was a creep, after all.

He probably just wants him to spend some time with him, Harry realized. To feel like he really cares about him…

As he was going through a pretty similar thing with Professor Snape at the moment, he could relate to that.

"Professor Snape is staying, too," Harry reminded him, gently.

"Yeah, I know," Draco told him, brushing tears off his face. "Who do you think I’m going to be staying with for the holidays?"

"Y-You are?" Harry asked him, hesitantly. "In his quarters?"

"Of course," Draco said, snorting. "He asked me to when he brought me the letter and I’d read it—said he didn’t want me staying alone in Slytherin House."

"Oh," Harry said, swallowing. He glanced at the snow covered ground in front of him.

Why hadn’t he asked me? He wondered to himself. Doesn’t he want me to stay with him?

Of course, he wasn’t the only Gryffindor staying at school. Ron and his brothers were staying, too.

Their parents were going to visit their older brother Charlie in Romania, but couldn’t afford to take all of them.

"Well," he told the blonde haired boy. "Christmas won’t be a total loss…right?"

Draco nodded. "Yeah, you’re right," he said. "Its not the first time I had to stay with Uncle Sev…it’s just…it’d be nice, you know?"

Harry nodded. "I know," he told him, quietly. "Believe me, I know…" The Dursleys had never once bought him a Christmas present or anything in the whole ten years he’d lived with them.

Realizing things had gotten a tad bit too serious for his liking, Harry smirked mischeviously down at the snow.

Scooping up a handful, he proceeded to smash it into the Slytherin’s face.

"Hey!" Draco spluttered, through a mouthful of snow. "What’s the big deal, Potter!?"

Harry hopped up. "What’s the matter, Malfoy?" he asked him, smirking. "Scared of a little snowball?"

Draco narrowed his eyes at him, but then smirked. "You’re so gonna get it, Potter!" he growled at him, beginning to scoop up snow.

"You have to catch me first!" Harry taunted, taking off through the trees.

What followed was a very intense snowball fight—snowball war, actually—that left both boys soaking wet.

When it was time to head back in to get ready for lunch, Harry glanced breathlessly at his blonde haired cousin.

"F-Feel better?" he asked him, as he tried to catch his breath.

Draco blinked at him, but nodded. "Actually," he told him, smirking. "I do."

Harry nodded. "Great," he said, "now c’mon…if we’re late for McGonagall’s class she’ll skin us alive!"

Together, though they still double checked to make certain no one was around, they headed back into the castle to get dried off.

Neither one noticed, however, the tall black robed man who’d watched the entire scene from the snowy hill near Hagrid’s hut.

As they headed inside, he didn’t even bother to hide the smile that spread across his face.

HPHPHPHPHP

Severus was headed back to the castle, after having watched his son and nephew willingly engage in a civil conversation with each other and then proceeded to actually play together in the snow, when he was intercepted by the Headmaster.

"Ah, Severus," Albus Dumbledore stopped him, his eyes twinkling merrily. "Out for a bit of fresh air, eh?"

Severus snorted. "Something like that," he told him, smirking.

"I’ve always found a brisk walk around the grounds to be very refreshing," Dumbledore said, taking in a deep breath of air. "Clears the cobwebs, as the Muggles say…"

"Indeed," Severus said, raising an eyebrow. "Was there something you needed, Sir?"

"As a matter of fact," Dumbledore said, smiling. "I do. As you know, we have yet to find a replacement for Professor Quirrel in Muggle Studies, since he took over the DADA spot. I have been attempting to fill the void while we looked, but…with my other duties it is beginning to be a problem. But, I believe, I have found a suitable candidate for the job."

"That is…nice," Severus said, frowning. "This has what to do with me, exactly?"

"Well," Dumbledore said, placing a hand on his back and guiding him through the entrance to the school. "I was hoping you’d take a look at him for me—give me your opinion on his qualifications."

Severus’ frown deepened. "Isn’t that generally Minerva’s job?" he asked. "She is the assistant Headmistress, after all."

"Oh, Minerva has already met with him and approved him," Dumbledore told him, "but it never hurts to have a second opinion on these things, you know."

"Indeed," he said, hesitantly. "Well, what are his qualifications?"

"Well, the predominate one," Dumbledore told him, his eyes practically dancing, "is that he is a Muggle."

"A Muggle!" Severus exclaimed, his eyes widening in shock. "You want a Muggle to teach here!?"

"Who better to teach Muggle Studies?" Dumbledore asked him, smirking as they reached the entrance to his office—a gargoyle statue.

Severus swallowed his shock. "I suppose…" he said, quietly. "But it must be someone who knows of us, correct? He does know this is a magical school, right?" They had begun to walk up the steps.

"Oh, certainly," Dumbledore said. "He is the parent of one of our alumni, in fact."

"Who?" Severus asked, frowning again.

"Oh, a lad from your year," Dumbledore told him. "Quiet fellow who liked to keep to himself a great deal."

"Do I know him?" Severus asked, curiously.

"Certainly," Dumbeldore chuckled, "most definitely…" They had reached his office door.

"Who, then?" Severus asked, as he was ushered into the Headmaster’s office…

And stopped dead in his tracks at the sight of the man waiting there.

He was tall and lean, though wiry muscled from the looks of it. He had honey-blonde hair that was beginning to gray at the temples. His eyes were black and his nose ever so slightly crooked. He appeared to be around sixty years of age. His name was…Tobias Snape.

"Hello, Severus," the man greeted him, pleasantly. "It’s been a long time, son."

Severus spun around to face the Headmaster, who had closed the door and was leaning against it casually; watching.

"What is he doing here!?" Severus all but yelled at the older wizard, furiously.

"I told you, Severus," Dumbledore told him, quietly. "Tobias is the gentleman I am considering hiring."

"B-But you can’t!" Severus growled, angrily.

"And why not?" Dumbledore asked, curiously. "He meets all the qualifications, I assure you."

Severus snorted at that. "I find that hard to believe!" he growled. "I doubt any of them include ‘uneducated drunkard’!"

Tobias winced at that.

Good, Severus thought viciously. The bastard ought to fill guilty!

"It has been twenty years, Severus," Tobias spoke again. "Can’t we please just talk…like adults."

"We have nothing to talk about," Severus growled, angrily. He turned to leave, but the Headmaster blocked his path. "Please, Albus, move out of my way!"

"I will not," Dumbledore told him, firmly. "You have yet to give me your opinion…"

"My opinion!" Severus all but roared. "My opinion is that he is a…a murderer!"

"Severus, please," Tobias spoke again, quietly.

Severus gritted his teeth and refused to turn around.

Clenching his fists, he asked the Headmaster one more time to move and let him leave.

"No, Severus," Dumbledore told him, firmly. "Your father is not the same man he was."

"I find that very hard to believe," Severus snorted. "Snapes are known for being incredibly stubborn!"

"Indeed we are," Tobias muttered, amused.

"Now, as I was saying," Dumbledore told him. "I am considering Tobias for the Muggle Studies position…"

"He was in prison!" Severus argued, angrily.

"But not for the last thirteen years," Dumbledore countered, smirking. "Since that time not only has he earned his high school diploma, but he has also gotten degrees in both history and psychology—specifically child psychology!"

Severus’ eyebrows rose to his forehead and couldn’t help but glance back at the man who had sired him.

"It is true, Severus," Tobias told him, quietly. "I did a mentoring program while in prison—a pen-pal kinda deal—and it really made me start thinking about things. After gettin’ my diploma, I realized I really liked the history and decided to study it. At the same time, I minored in psychology."

"I see," Severus said, quietly. "And the drinking?"

"I’ve not touched a drop since that night," Tobias said, swallowing. "I swear."

"Indeed," Severus said, glancing back at Dumbledore. "How do you know all this? I highly doubt he applied for the position!"

"I have been corresponding with Tobias for some years now, Severus," Dumbledore told him, grinning.

"What?!" Severus growled. "In Merlin’s name, why?!"

"Eileen was someone I cared a great deal about, Severus," Dumbledore told him, quietly. "And she loved your father very much."

Severus snorted. "Cared a great deal about?" he asked, sneering. "Is that your way of saying ‘my illegitimate daughter’?!"

The Headmaster looked as if he’d been slapped.

Severus smirked.

"Oh yes, Albus, or should I say ‘Grandfather’," he told him, coldly. "I know all about your rather elicit affair with Ambrosia Prince!"

"A…misspent youth," Dumbledore said, sadly.

Severus laughed harshly at that. "Mispent youth, my ass!" he growled at him. "You were forty-five years old!"

"Severus, please," Dumbledore said, wincing. "Don’t—"

"Oh no," Severus said, smirking. "You planned this little family reunion, remember? You wanted my ‘opinion’, remember? Well, now you’re going to get it! What would the rest of the wizarding community say if they knew that the all-but sainted Albus Dumbledore wasn’t quite so sainted after all, hmm?"

"I’ve never claimed to be perfect, Severus," Dumbledore told him, quietly.

Severus snorted, glaring.

"Coulda fooled me," he told him, harshly. "But of course…no one knew, did they? There was what kind of age difference between my mother and her sister—your legitimate daughter? Twenty years, I believe it was? And who was that sister, Albus? Oh yes, I remember now…it was Ariana Potter! The mother of James Potter, yes? Your precious golden Gryffindor, who could do no wrong even against me—his own cousin!"

"That is unkind, Severus," Dumbledore told him, quietly. "James did save your life."

"Only after making it a living hell for me!" Severus yelled, angrily. "But what did you do? Nothing. You allowed him to run wild throughout the school, giving him token detentions instead of actual punishments. And what did you do for me? Nothing!"

"That is not true," Dumbledore told him, firmly. "I remember a night upon the Astronomy Tower…"

Severus winced. "Do not even go there," he growled. "One grandfatherly act cannot amend seven years of assumed ignorance!"

The Headmaster sighed. "All I can say is that I am sorry, Severus," he told him. "I cannot change the past."

"Nor can I," Tobias spoke up, "but we can change the future, son."

"My future is not your concern," Severus growled at him and then looked at the Headmaster. "Do what you like, hire him if you wish, but make sure he stays out of my way!"

And with that, he stormed past Dumbledore and exited the office, slamming the door behind him as he went.

Fuming, he headed back to the dungeons.

Of all the nerve, he growled silently to himself. I can’t believe him!

How dare he bring that man into this castle?

How dare he ask his opinion about it?

How dare he—

"You once had a good relationship with him, Sev," Lily's voice drifted into mind—from a conversation they had fifteen years ago. "Just talk to him."

He sighed. He suppose he could have at least heard the bastard out.

Lily will know, he thought with a smile.

A determined expression on his face, Severus headed back out of the castle to the nearest Apparition sight.

SSSSSSSSSS

"Can you believe it, love? The nerve of that old coot!"

Lily listened to Severus as he explained what had transpired in the Headmaster’s office earlier.

"So," she said, quietly. "Tobias will be teaching at Hogwarts?"

Severus nodded. "I suppose," he told her. "Albus had said as much, anyway."

"That’s wonderful!" Lily told him, smiling.

Severus gave her a withering look. "How can you say that?" he asked her. "You know how I feel—"

"I know that its all in the past now, Sev," Lily told him, gently. "Twenty years in the past."

"So, I am just to forget…" he said, incredulously.

"No," Lily said, "but you might try forgiving. What happened was an accident, Severus—a tragic, should-never-have-happened accident. And there is one thing you’re forgetting."

"What’s that?" Severus asked her, curiously.

"Eileen wasn’t forced into that car," she reminded him. "She willingly got into it, knowing he was incompacitated…"

Severus winced that. "She didn’t deserve to die for it, though," he told her, heartbrokenly.

"No, and Tobias must live with that for the rest of his life," Lily told him. "He loved her, Sev. Living without her, as he has all these year, must be hell for him."

Severus nodded. He knew what that was like, after all.

She reached out, she could not move her arms freely without tiring out at all, and touched his face.

"He’s missed out on twenty years of your life," she told him. "Why can’t you get to know each other all over again? Start anew, build a new future…beyond the shadows of your pasts?"

Severus swallowed. "Nobody’s perfect," he repeated Dumbledore’s sentiments.

"Exactly," Lily told him, gently. "You know that better than any one, remember?"

Severus nodded. "All right, love," he told her, smirking. "I’ll give the ruddy bastard a chance."

"Wonderful," Lily told him. "I really want Harry to have a chance to get to know at least one of his grandparents..."

Severus nodded, standing up. "I must be getting back," he told her, kissing her hand. "I’ll bring Harry next time. I promise."

"Christmas break is coming up, right?" Lily asked, and he nodded. "Then, use that time to get to know both your father and your son better."

Severus nodded. "I shall," he told her, bending down to kiss her. "Til next time, love."

"Of course," she told him, as she watched him exit the room. She smiled.

Don’t worry, love, she thought to herself, I have faith in you even when you don’t. I know you’ll do the right thing.

"Attention, everyone," Professor Dumbledore stood up, gaining everyone’s attention in the Great Hall.

It was the last night before the holiday break, and everyone was excited. They did, however, settle down as the older wizard stood up to speak.

"Ah, how time flies," the Headmaster said, sighing wistfully. "It’s seems as if this first term as gone by in a blink…but, of course, that may because I am so old and tend to nod off, eh?"

This got more than few chuckles, even from the professors.

"Before all of you who shall be going home for the holidays leave in the morning," Professor Dumbledore continued, "I would like to wish each and every one of you a safe and very happy Christmas. Also, I would like to introduce a new addition to our teaching staff: Mr. Tobias Snape."

Everyone gasped, as a tall, thin man stood up. He had graying blonde hair, but his face was almost identical to…

"Did he say Snape?" Harry asked Ron, wide-eyed.

"Y-Yeah, he did," Ron said, swallowing.

"Hullo all," the man spoke, his voice husky and deep, with a large smile. "It will be a pleasure getting to know all of you."

"Professor Snape, who will be teaching Muggle Studies once the new term begins, is unique to Hogwarts for two reasons," Professor Dumbeldore said, his eyes twinkling merrily. "The first is that he is a Muggle…"

A loud gasp followed this, as well as several hushed whispers and looks of disgust (those mostly from the Slyterin table, of course).

"And secondly," the Headmaster went on, "he is the father of one of our former students and our resident Potions Master: Professor Severus Snape."

"Bloody ‘ell, ‘Arry," Ron exclaimed, glancing at him. "Snape has a dad!"

Hermione snorted at that, sending him a withering look.

"Well, of course he has!" she exclaimed, shaking her head in disgust. "What? Did you think he just popped out of an egg fully grown?"

Ron scowled at her. "No, but I was expectin’ his dad to be…well, not human!" he told her, turning red.

Harry swallowed, glancing up at the new teacher. If he’s Snape’s dad, he thought to himself, then that means…he’s my grandfather!

"I trust you shall all endeavor to make him feel very welcomed," Dumbledore concluded. "Now then, dessert!"

He clapped his hands and then sat back down, as did the new professor. Moments later, heaps of cakes, pies, and puddings appeared on the tables.

Harry scanned the staff table, but saw no sign of Professor Snape—the younger one—anywhere.

I wonder why he isn’t here to welcome his dad, Harry thought to himself.

He then remembered what the Professor had told him and Draco that day.

How his dad had been a drunkard, gotten into an accident, and inadvertently killed his mother in the process.

Harry studied the man who had sired his father, carefully. Other than the hair, they looked a great deal alike. Except…

Tobias actually smiled at us, Harry realized. It’s funny…he doesn’t look like a mean drunk to me.

The older Snape turned and a brief moment their eyes met—green and black—and he smiled.

It was a knowing sort of smile, too. Does he know? Harry wondered. About me being his grandson?

"Now there are two of them," Ron grumbled, sourly. "Snape probably recruited his dad to help him pull off his Dark mission."

"Oh, Ron, really," Hermione said, sighing. "Weren’t you listening at all? Mr. Snape is a Muggle! Which means Professor Snape is a half-blood…that surprises me."

"Why?" Harry asked her, curiously.

"Because he’s a Slytherin," she told him. "Almost all of them are purebloods."

I was almost put in Slytherin! Harry really felt like screaming at them.

And he was a half-blood, technically, since his father was one and his mother was Muggleborn.

"And as for this ‘Dark’ mission," Hermione went on, rolling her eyes. "How could a Muggle possibly help to steal whatever Fluffy’s guarding? I mean, we barely managed to make it away from him alive, remember?"

Ron sniffed.

"I still say he’s up to no good," he told him. "He’s a Snape, after all. The professor had to learn how to be mean and nasty from someone, right? ‘Course, he was probably just born that way—being Slytherin and all—but still..."

Harry gritted his teeth and tightened his jaw.

He knew they didn’t understand, that they didn’t know, and all they ever saw was how his father acted towards them in class…

Maybe I can convince him to let up a little, Harry thought. I mean, I know potions are dangerous and he has to be strict to keep anything from exploding but…maybe he could yell at Neville a little bit less or something.

Pushing his plate away, he started to get up.

"Where are you going, ‘Arry?" Ron asked him, puzzled. "You haven’t even touched your pudding!"

"I, um, I forgot something down in the dungeons," Harry told him. "I want to get it before Malfoy and his cronies find it…"

"Go on, Harry," Hermione told him, "but remember you two will still have to search for information about Flamel while I’m away…"

"And you could ask your parents," Ron told her. "I’m sure they might know—as they’re bound to know even more than you do."

"Oh, certainly, I’m sure they’d be a big help," Hermione told him, rolling her eyes. "If they weren’t dentists, that is!"

Harry grinned and hurried from the Hall. It seemed all Ron and Hermione ever did was bicker, but that was okay.

When they were arguing with each other, they weren’t ganging up on him to convince him his own father was plotting to murder him!

‘Course, he thought as he made his way to the dungeons, they don’t know he’s my father.

Reaching his father’s quarters, which were directly across the hall from his classroom, he bit his lip.

What if he didn’t want to see him? Would he yell at him for disturbing him? Maybe he wasn’t feeling well or something…

Oh, c’mon, Potter, he growled silently to himself, show some of that courage Gryffindors are legendary for!

Steeling himself, he reached up and knocked. A few moments later, Snape opened the door.

He wasn’t wearing his teaching robes, nor the usual white dress shirt and black slacks he wore under them, but was instead wearing a faded green jumper and (shockingly) a pair of faded blue jeans.

His feet were bare, as well, and his hair was pulled back.

"Harry?" he frowned at him. "Why aren’t you in the Hall at the feast?"

"How come you didn’t tell me your dad was coming here to teach?" Harry asked him, curiously. "How come you weren’t up there when Professor Dumbledore introduced him?"

Snape frowned, but the sighed. "Come in, then," he told him, stepping back from the doorway.

Harry walked through the door, going and sitting down in the second armchair beside the fire.

Snape closed the door and then came and joined him, sitting opposite him in the other armchair.

The two stared at each other a moment, but then…

"The reason I did not inform you that he was coming," Snape told him, "is because I did not know it myself until a few days ago when the Headmaster informed me he had hired him."

"Oh," Harry said, quietly. "So, how come you weren’t at the feast tonight?"

"I, well, I did not wish to be there," Snape told him, honestly. "My father and I…do not get own. In fact, I have not actually spoken to him in twenty years. The other day was the first time either one of us has seen the other since I was fifteen years old."

"I remembered what you said," Harry told him. "About him drinking a lot and being mean…but he seemed really nice up in the Hall. He even smiled at us."

"How many of your fellow Gryffindors fainted into a dead heap at that?" the Potions Master asked him, smirking.

"Ha, ha," Harry said, rolling his eyes. "Everybody was shocked—‘cuz he’s a Muggle and he’s your dad—but nobody died or anything like that from it."

"Well, we can’t have everything," Snape joked, smirking. 

Harry continued to look at him, pleadingly.

"I have been told he has changed a great deal since the last time I saw him—which was at my mother’s funeral," Snape told him. "He apparently ‘reformed’ while in prison and went to university after getting out to earn a couple of degrees. We shall see how the third years and up respond to him in Muggle Studies, hmm…"

Harry bit his lip, wondering if he should ask him something or not. "Uh, Sir?" he said, hesitantly.

"Yes, Harry," Snape said, glancing at him questioning.

"Draco told me he was going to be staying with you over the holidays," Harry said, quietly.

"Did he?" Snape asked, seemingly unsurprised by this. "Well, yes, seeing as how he was the only Slytherin staying I did not feel it appropriate for him to remain in his dorm alone. His is my nephew, after all."

"Yeah, I know," Harry said, quietly. "I was just wondering why…well, why…"

"Why I did not ask you?" Snape asked him, quietly. Biting his lip and glancing down at the floor, Harry nodded.

Snape sighed. "Come here," he ordered, firmly. Swallowing, Harry did so and felt a hand reach out and lift his chin.

"Harry," Snape told him, firmly, "I did not ask you because you are not the only Gryffindor staying. You shall have plenty of company up in the Tower, especially with the Weasleys…and also because it would have looked odd to everyone. No one has been made aware yet of our relationship, have they?"

Harry shook his head. "No, not even Ron and Hermione," he told him, "b-but I do want to tell them…after the holidays."

"And that is perfectly understandable," the Potions Master told him, "and acceptable. You need someone other than myself or your mother to discuss things with and they are your friends. They shall be the ones you turn to in the coming years to complain about how your mother and I are ‘being completely unfair’ and ‘ruining your life’ and all the other things angst ridden teenagers say to their little comrades in the never ending war between parents and children."

Harry smiled at that. "I never thought of it like that," he told him, honestly.

Snape’s eyes softened. "I know that our situation is…awkward, to say the least," he told him. "We are still learning about each other and getting used to our roles as father and son. I am hoping that we may have the chance over the holidays to really bond and form a more ‘comfortable’ relationship beyond that of student and teacher."

"You do?" Harry asked, wide-eyed. "Really? I, uh, I thought maybe you didn’t ask me because you weren’t sure…weren’t sure you liked the idea of me being your son… I mean, its been a weak since we went shopping in Diagon Alley and the only time I’ve seen you since then is in class…"

Snape shook his head.

"I have been…preoccupied this past week," he told him, hesitantly. "But know this, Harry, I do not now nor will I ever regret being your father or having you for a son. Once your mother is fully recovered and we can publicaly announce our relationships, things will be much different then they are now. I promise you that. And if you require further proof, then allow me to show you."

With that, Harry felt himself against the Potions Master’s chest and his arms wrapped around him in a tight embrace.

He’s hugging me, Harry thought with a surprise. Profesor Snape is actually hugging me!

"I love you, Harry," he heard the man whisper, kissing him softly on the top of the head. "Never doubt that, son. Never."

Harry pulled back, wiping at the tears that had fallen. "T-Thank you, Sir," he told him, quietly.

Snape smiled at him. "You are welcome," he told him. "Why do we not do this? Every evening over the holidays you may come down here and spend some time with me…and Draco, of course."

"What will I tell Ron, though?" Harry asked him, biting his lip. "I told ‘em I’d forgotten something down here tonight, but I can’t keep sayin’ that. Even Ron knows I’m not that forgetful!"

Snape chuckled at that. "You have a point," he said, thinking. "Perhaps you should tell him you have detention with me—for lurking in the dungeons or some such thing."

"Every night!" Harry exclaimed. "Over the holiday!"

Snape smirked, evilly.

"Wouldn’t he believe ‘the mean, old bat of the dungeons’ capable of that?" he asked him, pointedly.

Harry blushed at that. "Yeah, he’d believe it," he said, sighing. "I was hopin’ I could change his mind about you, though. Or maybe…"

"Maybe what?" Snape asked him, curiously.

"Um, convince you to be a little nicer in class," Harry told him, awkwardly. "I mean, I know you have to be super strict ‘cuz otherwise we’d probably blow ourselves up and you, too…but maybe you could try not to yell so much…at least at poor Neville, anyway. I mean, he really tries in class, ya know…"

Snape smirked. "I shall take your advice under advisement," he told him, grinning. "For now, though, since we have a bit of time before curfew. Would you like to play a game of chess?"

"Wizard’s chess?" Harry asked him, curiously. "Uh, I’m not too good at it…"

"No," Snape said, reaching to he side of the chair and pulling a small table with a chess set on it in-between the two chair. "This is a regular Muggle chess set—so you have to play the old fashioned way, rather than simply commanding the pieces to move."

"Wicked," Harry said, examining the chess set. It was made entirely of wood, each piece obviously hand-crafted and intricately detailed. "It’s beautiful."

"Yes, it is," Snape said, an odd note in his voice. "It was a birthday gift to me when I was ten—from my father."

Harry glanced up. "He made it?" he asked him, astounded.

Snape nodded. "Oh, yes," he told him, smirking. "He was very good with his hands—I believe I told you that—especially when it came to wood carving."

"Wow," Harry said, smiling. "Did he ever teach you how to do it?"

"Once," Snape said, wrinkling his nose. "I did not have the…uh, knack…for it as he did. Also, I began attending Hogwarts soon after and…things began to go downhill."

"Do you think he still does it?" Harry asked him, curiously. "Carving stuff, I mean."

Snape shrugged. "I do not know," he told him, honestly. "You can always ask him, if you wish—since he is going to be here now."

Harry nodded. "He smiled at me in the Great Hall," he told him, hesitantly. "It was like he knew me."

Snape frowned at that. "More than likely Albus—Professor Dumbledore—told him who you were," he said, sniffing. "They are rather…close…from what I gathered."

"Oh," Harry said, quietly. "So, can we play?"

Snape smiled. "Let’s," he said, gesturing to the white pieces. "You go first…"

For the next hour, they played chess. Harry, of course, lost every game but he began to understand a little more about strategy.

"Ron would hate playing you," he told the Potions Master, chuckling. "He might actually lose, then!"

"Indeed," Snape said, smirking. "Perhaps, eventually, I shall challenge young Mr. Weasley to a game…"

Just then, there came knock on the door. Getting up, the professor made his way over to it and opened it.

"Hello, Severus."

Harry looked up at the sound of the husky, deep voice and his eyes widened in recognition.

Standing in the doorway was Tobias Snape.

"May I come in?"

HPHPHPHP

Severus’ jaw clenched at the sight of his father standing in the doorway of his quarters.

"Hello, Severus," Tobias greeted him, pleasantly. "May I come in?"

It took every ounce of willpower he had not to slam the door in the older man’s face.

You promised Lily you’d give him a chance, he reminded himself sternly.

Stepping back from the door, he said, "If you must…"

Tobias stepped through, taking a quick glance around. His eyes fell on Harry.

"Oh," he said, glancing back at him. "I didn’t mean to interrupt…"

"No, uh, Sir," Harry said, standing up. "I was just leaving. Professor Snape was just…uh…he was just teaching me a bit about strategy." He eyed the chess board, indicating the ‘teaching method’.

Severus snorted at that.

It looks like I’ll have to teach him how to lie properly, he thought to himself. That way I’ll always know when he’s lying about something.

"You don’t have to rush off on my account, Harry," Tobias told the boy, startling them both by using his name.

"Um, that’s okay," Harry told him, awkwardly. "It’s almost curfew, anyway."

"Indeed," Severus said, opening the door. "Good evening, Mr. Potter. Be sure to be here tomorrow night for that ‘detention’ we discussed."

Harry nodded, attempting not to smile (and failing miserably, he noticed).

"Yes, Sir," he said. "Goodnight, Sirs." With that, he exited the room.

Severus watched him go up the corridors and then up the stairs to the main part of the castle. He then closed the door with a sigh.

"He seems like a really nice boy," Tobias told him, smiling. "You must be proud of him."

Severus looked at him, sharply. "What do you mean?" he asked him, suspiciously.

Tobias raised an eyebrow.

"Don’t tell me you haven’t told your own son you’re proud of him, Severus?" he said, disapprovingly. "I thought I taught you better than that."

Severus swallowed, not sure how to respond. "How?" he asked him. "How do you know Harry is my son?"

"Lily wrote to me, eleven years ago," Tobias told him. "She wanted me to hear if from her—about the battle and you being presumed dead—rather than a stranger. It was then that she told me the Snape name would live on, as she was expecting your son. It was only later that Albus wrote to tell me you were alive."

"I see," Severus said, evenly. So he’s known all these years, he thought with regret, and I’ve only just found out… Fate truly is cruel at time.

Tobias gestured to the armchair Harry had vacated. "May I sit?" he asked, politely.

Severus nodded, going and sitting down himself opposite him.

Tobias sat, and then glanced at him.

"I was sorry to hear about Lily, Severus," he told him, quietly. "I know how much you loved her…"

Severus swallowed. "How could you?" he asked him, frowning. "You were in prison when…when we were married…?"

"I always liked Lily," Tobias told him, smiling wistfully. "She was good for you. Before you met her you were such an awkward kid, but then you began to come out of your shell around her. I was happy about that…and it was obvious, even when you were kids, that you loved her."

Severus blinked. "I did not know you were that…observant," he said, carefully.

Tobias snorted, but then chuckled.

"I wasn’t always a drunken bastard, Severus," he reminded him, wryly. "You’re childhood, to a certain point, was good. Wasn’t it?"

Severus glared at him, but then relaxed.

He’s right, he thought to himself with regret. Everything was fine until I went to Hogwarts.

"Yes," he admitted, hesitantly. "I suppose, before then, it was."

Tobias smiled at that, his eyes gazing down at the chess set that was still set up. "I remember when I made this for you," he told him, quietly. "Best work I did up to that point…"

Severus raised an eyebrow. "Does that mean you still carve?" he asked him, curiously.

Tobias nodded. "Yes," he told him. "It’s how I’ve supported myself all these years, actually. I have a very success wood-working business. Of course, in the last couple of years, I’ve let my manager run it for me."

Severus frowned at that. "I don’t understand," he told him. "If you have a successful business, why…?"

"Why did I take Albus up on his offer to teach?" Tobias asked, smirking. "In one of my last letters to him, I mentioned as much as I enjoyed my wood-working that I always wanted to do more with my degrees than simply let them hang on my office walls. That was when he wrote back to tell me that there was a position here at Hogwarts available. At first, I thought he’d gone balmy—after all, I have no more magic than…well, then a third rate show magician—but then he explained that it was for a class called ‘Muggle Studies’ and that I would be teaching the kids about the non-magical world…including its history."

"And that was your only reason for accepting?" Severus asked him, curiously.

"No, of course not," Tobias told him, quietly. "I knew it would…hopefully…give us a chance to talk—to maybe try and put the past behind us and rebuild a little of what we had when you were kid."

Severus swallowed. "Albus should still have told me," he growled out, angrily. "Damn meddling old man!"

Tobias chuckled at that. "You really shouldn’t talk about your grandpa like that, Severus," he told him, smirking, "but you’re right—to a certain point. Albus means well…he just tends to look at the ‘big picture’ more than the ‘small picture’."

Severus snorted. "That would be putting mildly," he said, rolling his eyes.

"Did you know if it wasn’t for him, you and your mum and me would have been out on the street?" Tobias asked him, curiously.

Severus frowned. "What are you talking about?" he asked, curiously.

"After I lost my job," Tobias told him, "but before the drinking got out of hand…he started sending your mother money so that we could put food on the table and keep the house."

Severus blinked at that. "I don’t understand," he told him, honestly. "I thought Mum...had gotten a job…"

"She did," Tobias told him, "but she still didn’t make near enough what we needed. Albus, who felt guilty for being a neglectful dad when she was younger, sent her money to boost our income."

"I had no idea," Severus said. "He never said…"

"He wouldn’t," Tobias told him, smirking. "Albus doesn’t try to come off as some all powerful Merlin-type—even though that’s how everybody sees him—he’s a man just like you and me. He’s made mistakes—mistakes he deeply regrets. But just like us he has his pride, too."

"You certainly seem to know him a great deal better than I do," Severus said, quietly. And I’ve known him for more than twenty years!

"He started writing to me while I was in prison," Tobias told him. "He…helped me, a great deal. Right after the accident, I…I wanted to die, Sev. I even tried to off myself a time or two, but apparently your grandfather wanted me to live with my mistakes. He admitted to me, years later, that he placed a charm or jinx or something on me at your mother’s funeral that prevented anyone—including myself—from harming me physically. Then, he started writing to me. At first, I was confused. Why would he want to be a pen-pal to the man who had killed his daughter? I figured he’d hate me…but he didn’t. He wrote to let me know how you were doing, mostly. He kept me up to date on your schooling and how things were going. A couple years in, he began to write how concerned he was about your…um…interest…in the Dark Arts."

Severus snorted. "He didn’t seem all that concerned at the time," he told him, sighing.

"But he was," Tobias told him, nodding. "I felt horrible that I was causing you to go down a path I knew your mum had definitely not wanted you to go…"

"You may have opened the door," Severus admitted to him, swallowing, "but I am the one who chose to walk through it."

"But you also chose to walk back out of it," Tobias reminded him, proudly.

"Not without help," Severus said, quietly.

"Everyone needs help sometime, Severus," Tobias told him. "I learned that the hard way—not to mention too late."

Severus glanced at him, his eyes narrowing.

"Do you miss her?" he asked him, shrewdly. There was no need to clarify who he meant.

Tobias swallowed. "Every minute of every hour of every day for the last twenty years," he told him, without hesitation.

Severus could hear the sincerity in his voice…and the pain.

"So do I," he told him, staring him in the eye. "It seems we have something in common, after all."

Tobias nodded. "More than just that, I think," he told him, truthfully. "I know it doesn’t matter to you whether I am proud of you or not, Sev, but I am nonetheless—and I know your mother would be, too."

Severus felt a lump rise in his throat, but pushed it back down. "T-Thank you," he told him. "That means…a great deal."

Tobias nodded, and then stood. "I suppose I should head to bed," he told him, "I’ve disturbed you long enough, I reckon."

Severus also stood. "I was merely hiding out, any way," he admitted him, wryly.

Tobias smirked at that. "Do you think it will be possible?" he asked him, curiously. "For us to…get along?"

Severus knew the true question he was trying to ask was if there was any hope for them having a father-son relationship again.

"It is…possible," he told him, hesitantly. "Only time will tell…"

Tobias nodded. "Yes, it will," he said, holding out his hand. "Good night, Severus."

"Good evening," Severus said, reaching out to grasp the older man’s hand. "Tobias."

Tobias smiled at that, knowing it was his way of bridging the gap between them. With a nod, he turned and exited the room.

Severus stared after him for several minutes, but then sighed and sat back down.

He had actually managed to have a civil conversation with his own father for the first time in twenty years.

He smiled.

SSSSSSS

Lily glanced up as the door to her hospital room opened and she wasn’t all that surprised by who her visitor was.

"Hello, Lily," Tobias Snape greeted her, coming over and sitting down beside her bed.

"Well?" she asked him, hopefully.

"We’ve made a…start," he told her, grinning. "Thank you for writing me."

Lily smiled, knowingly.

All was quiet in Snape’s quarters…except for the scratching of quills, that is.

Harry sighed, putting his down, and shaking out his hand. He scowled at his father, who was busy writing in his journals at his desk.

"Why did you have to give us such a long assignment over the holidays?" he grumbled at him.

"Yeah, Uncle Sev," Draco, who was sitting across from him at the coffee table, added his gripe. "None of the other professors assigned us three foot essays!"

Snape glanced up, raising an eyebrow at them.

"Since when I have I ever done anything based simply on ‘the other professors’?" he asked them, pointedly.

Harry sighed. "You still could have given us a break," he told him. "It is the holidays!"

Snape sniffed. "That may well be, but I have never believed in letting students be idle for three whole weeks," he told them, seriously. "Idle hands usually find mischief if they’re not kept busy."

"Ahhh…" both Harry and Draco groaned at this.

"And if I hear another complaint," Snape informed them, firmly. "I will cancel our trip tomorrow and you both can spend the day cleaning my classroom with a couple of toothbrushes!"

Harry quickly shook his head no, and got back to work. Draco followed suit.

The Potions Master had promised to escort them down to the village of Hogsmeade to do some Christmas shopping, since the holiday was only a week away.

So far, Harry’s ‘detentions’ were working.

Ron did not even blink after the first couple of nights when he said he had to go the dungeons.

Unfortunately, this seemed to only cement the idea that Snape truly was up to no good.

"You be careful, ‘Arry," Ron had told him tonight before he’d come down there. "Don’t ever turn your back on that greasy git, you hear me!"

Harry had merely nodded and promised to be careful, and then headed for his father’s quarters.

It has been a week now, and so far a steady routine had been formed.

He would come down right after dinner in the Great Hall, and for an hour he and Draco were required to work on their school assignments.

"If you get them done right off the bat," Snape had told them, when they had grumbled about this, "then they will be finished and you will have two whole weeks free."

They couldn’t exactly argue with the logic behind it…although that didn’t stop them from grumbling.

They had finished their Transfiguration assignment the first night, their Charms’ assignment the second, the DADA the third, the Herbology the fourth, their History of Magic the fifth, and tonight they were working on their potions’ essay.

Leave it to Professor Snape, Harry thought as he continued ‘scratching’, to assign a three foot essay on the effects of a Sleeping Draught…

Getting another paragraph or two down, he glanced back up and asked, "Sir?"

Snape, who had now moved to his favorite armchair and was reading from a potions’ journal, lifted an eyebrow to show he was listening.

"Will Grandpa Toby be coming by tonight?" Harry asked, curiously.

‘Grandpa Toby’ is what Tobias had told him to call him that first night, when he’d stopped by his son’s quarters to talk for a bit.

"Your grandmother always called me ‘Toby’, for short," Tobias told him, smiling. "So, I suppose you can call me ‘Grandpa Toby’."

Harry had been delighted by this. He’d never had a grandfather before, after all.

Even Draco was allowed to call the professor’s father by the name, even though technically he wasn’t his biological grandfather.

"I was married to your grandmother, though," Tobias had told the blonde Slytherin, "and Sev is your uncle…so I am kinda like your grandpa, too."

"I suppose he shall," Snape told him, shrugging. "He has the last five nights…why would he stop now?"

At that moment, a knock sounded on the door and when Snape gave permission to enter Tobias stepped on through.

"Hullo, boys," he greeted them, smiling. "Busy working again, I see? What’s it tonight?"

"Potions," Harry, Draco, and Snape all three answered, causing him to chuckle heartedly.

"Let me guess," Tobias said, grinning at his son. "It’s the hardest of the lot, right?"

"Uh huh," Harry and Draco both groaned, wrinkling their noses.

"Please, Tobias," Snape said, his lips twitching. "Don’t encourage them…"

"All right, Sev," Tobias said, chuckling. "Shall we continue our game?" He walked over and sat in the other armchair.

This had become a routine as well over the last week, the older Snape would join them about an hour or so after Harry arrived and while the boys finished their assignments he and his son would play chess.

So far, they were still playing the game they had begun that first night—apparently they were both excellent chess players.

Ron would go balmy, Harry thought with a smile as he bent back to his potions homework. He’d love a real challenge!

His best friend was a ruthless chess player, as he only knew too well, and easily beat just about everybody he played—including his brothers.

"I believe it was your move," Snape told his dad, putting his potions journal down and focusing on the chess board.

"Hmm, I think you’re right," Tobias said, narrowing his eyes. "I think I’ll…"

He then reached and moved his knight—taking one of Snape’s bishops and endangering the Potions Master’s King.

"Check," he told his son, smirking wryly.

"Indeed," Snape said, narrowing his eyes. He then moved his King out of harm’s way and the game continued.

For over thirty minutes, they played to the sounds of scratching quills. Finally, having put the finishing touches on his essay, Harry put his quill down and glanced up.

Snape moved his queen into the space directly beside Tobias’ cornered King. "Check mate," he declared, a satisfied smirk on his face.

Tobias smiled. "Indeed it is," he said, reaching out a hand. "Good game, Sev. I taught you better than I thought!"

"Thank you," Snape said, shaking the man’s hand.

"You finally finished?" Harry asked, hopping up. "That took forever!"

"Oh, really, Harry," Snape said, shaking his head. "Don’t be so dramatic! Have you finished your essay?"

Harry nodded, handing it to him.

"I have too, Uncle Sev," Draco said, bringing him his essay, too.

Snape took them, looking them over quickly. "Adequate," he told them, nodding. "See there? I told you it woudn’t be that hard…"

The boys sent him mutual glares of distain, causing Tobias to laugh.

"Would it help you boys to know that even Severus hated doing homework, too," he told them, smirking.

"I did not!" Snape snapped at him.

"Well, maybe not here at Hogwarts," Tobias said, grinning, "but before he started here—when he went to the local school where we lived—his mum and I practically had to glue him to his chair to get him to do it."

"Humph," Snape said, scowling. "That is because I was so intelligent—the work they assigned was boring and useless."

"You told us there was no such thing as a ‘useless’ assignment," Draco accused, smirking.

"Yeah," Harry piped up, gleefully. "You said, ‘Homework reinforces what you are learning in the classroom. It also helps your professor determine if they are actually teaching you something.’ Remember?"

Snape scowled at them.

"And I was right," he said, and then glanced at his father. "Just as my parents were right to make me do my homework when I was a child—though if you tell anyone I said that I shall—"

"Wouldn’t dream of it, Severus," Tobias told him, smirking. "So, boys, does this mean all your holiday homework is done?"

"Yes," both Harry and Draco told him, smiling.

"Excellent," Tobias said, smiling. "That means more time for fun, doesn’t it?"

"Yeah," Harry agreed, and then thought of something. He glanced at his father. "Can Grandpa Toby come with us tomorrow?"

"What’s this?" Tobias asked, raising an eyebrow.

"I am taking Harry and Draco down to the village tomorrow to do some Christmas shopping," Snape told him. "I did not think to ask…but you are welcome to come along, if you like."

"That sounds like a splendid idea," Tobias said, smiling. "I haven’t had a chance to go down there yet—I’ve never been in a completely wizard village before."

"Me, either," Harry told him, smiling. "I can’t wait!"

"I still think it’s not fair that Third Years and up get to go down there regularly," Draco complained, "but First and Second Years aren’t."

"There is a very good reason for that," Snape told him, sternly. "And if I ever catch either of you attempting to make an unauthorized visit—"

"We won’t," both boys exclaimed, knowing full well what more than likely would happen.

"See that you don’t," Snape said, smirking.

Tobias chuckled. "Albus told me about the pub his brother owns down there," he told him. "He told me I should stop in and say ‘hi’ for him, since he doesn’t get down there nearly as often as he would like."

"Yes," Snape said, sighing. "The Hog’s Head is owned by Aberford—Abe, for short—Dumbledore."

"Professor Dumbledore has a brother?" Harry asked, surprised.

"Yes, he does," Tobias told him, and then glanced at his son. "That’d make him your great-uncle, wouldn’t it?"

"Yes," Snape said, sighing. "It would."

"It would!?" Harry and Draco exclaimed at the same time, wide-eyed.

"You haven’t told them, I take it?" Tobias said, raising an eyebrow at the younger Snape.

"I did not feel it was necessary for them to know right now," Snape said, sniffing. "Of course, now that the cat is out of the bag…"

"How come Professor Dumbledore’s brother is your great-uncle?" Harry asked his father, curiously.

"Because Professor Dumbledore is my grandfather, Harry," Snape told him, surprising him even more. "That would make him your great-grandfather—yours, too, Draco."

"How’s that?" Draco asked him, frowning. "Mother and Father never mentioned it…"

"Probably because they do not know," Snape told him, smirking. "Lucius would have a coronary, if he knew, in fact… Hmm…"

"Severus," Tobias said, shaking his head.

"It was just a thought," Snape said, wryly. "At any rate, my mother was Professor Dumbledore’s daughter."

"But I thought she was a Prince?" Draco said, frowning.

"She was," Snape told them. "Technically…"

"Just not biologically," Tobias said, smirking.

Snape glared at him, but then sighed.

"Boys," he told them, quietly, "Professor Dumbledore is perhaps the most powerful wizard of our age—as well being the finest Headmaster this school has ever had—and because of that he deserves a great deal of respect. However, he is still only human—and therefore not perfect, by any stretch of the imagination. He has made his share of mistakes. One of those was that he fell in love with a married woman: Ambrosia Prince. She was my grandmother."

"Wow," Draco said, blinking. "Who’d have thought ole fussy-faced Dumbledore—"

"Draco!" Snape snapped, sternly.

The blonde Slytherin blushed. "Sorry, Uncle Sev," he said, quietly.

"My mother, Eileen," Snape said, continuing his explanation, "was the result of their relationship—although neither she nor her mother nor Professor Dumbledore ever told anyone that. My grandmother allowed her husband, Nero Prince, to believe he was the father and therefore my mother had his name."

"D-Does the professor have any other kids?" Harry asked, curiously.

"Only one, and she too is no longer living," Snape told him. "Once, a very long time ago, Professor Dumbledore was married. Sadly, his young wife died while giving birth to their daughter: Ariana. Ariana was twenty years old when my mother was born—she had already graduated Hogwarts and was married. She married Thomas Potter and eventually—though both she and her husband were much older at the time—had a son: James."

Harry eyes widened at that. "B-But that means…"

Snape nodded. "Yes, Harry, James and I were first cousins," he told him. "Though neither he nor I were aware of it…though, Dumbledore certainly was."

"How’d you find out all this, then?" Draco asked him, curiously.

"When my grandmother died, I was the sole surviving member of the family," Snape told him. "All the Prince family wealth came to me, including their possessions. I discovered the letters that Professor Dumbledore wrote to Ambrosia during their…uh…romance. In one, she asks him to be sure to look after her ‘little Eileen’ who would be starting Hogwarts that year. Dumbledore, who was the Transfiguration teacher at that time, wrote her saying that he would ‘look after their daughter with every fiber of his being’. And as far as I know, he did."

"Eileen knew who her real father was," Tobias told them, "although it wasn’t until after she was nearly an adult when she found out. It’s why she wasn’t very upset when her ‘father’ disowned her for marrying me."

"And apparently," Snape said, "the Headmaster also provided for her—and by extension me—financially, as well."

"Wow," Harry and Draco said, wide eyed.

I’ve gone from having no family, Harry thought to himself, to having a really big one!

"Have you spoken with him, yet?" Tobias asked his son, curiously.

Snape shook his head. "No," he told him, scowling. "He had no right to railroad me like that!"

"Severus," Tobias said, quietly. "You’re his only surviving grandchild. He’s lost his wife, Ariana, Eileen, and James…and he’d rather not claim your brother, I am sure. No offense, Drake."

"That’s okay," Draco told him, sighing. "I know my father is a real…uh…not nice." A stern look from his uncle had him changing his answer slightly.

Snape sighed, shaking his head.

"Very well," he said, scowling.

He got up and went to the fire place to fire-call the Headmaster. "Albus, I’d like a word. Will you please come through?"

A few minutes later, the Headmaster exited the fireplace and glanced around. "Good evening, Tobias, young Mr. Malfoy," he said, "and…why, Harry!? I did not expect to find you here?"

"I’m, uh, serving a detention, Sir," Harry told him, quickly.

"No, he is not," Snape snapped. "It’s time you knew a few things, Albus. That’s why I wished you to come here."

The Headmaster frowned. "I do not understand," he told him, quietly.

"Sir, are you sure?" Harry asked his father, curiously. "I thought…"

"Albus knows how to keep a secret," Snape told him, snorting. "Better than anyone I know, besides myself."

"You might want to sit down, Al," Tobias told him, nodding to the chair his son had vacated.

"What is this all about, Severus?" Professor Dumbledore asked, frowning.

"Harry is your great-grandson, Albus," Snape told him, bluntly.

The Headmaster blinked at a moment. "I’m well aware of that, Severus," Dumbledore said, hesitantly. "James was—"

"Not his father!" Snape snapped, smirking triumphantly. "Through me, Albus—Harry is your great-grandson through me!"

Dumbledore blinked at him. "W-What?" he asked, clearly confused.

"He is my son," Severus told him, smirking.

"Severus, do you realize what—" Dumbledore started to say, but Harry interrupted.

"It’s true, Professor," Harry spoke up. "The potion confirmed it."

"Potion?" Dumbledore asked, curiously.

"The Relative Potion," Snape told him. "I had them brew some of it in class back in October. It showed Harry and Draco were related by blood."

"Of course it would," the Headmaster said, quietly. "James and Lucius are first cousins."

"True," Snape told him, "but as you know that particular potion only changes color completely for close blood connections. Had Harry and Draco been second cousins, it would have remained green—merely going from a darker shade to a lighter one. It did not, however. It changed completely—from green to a very bright yellow."

Dumbledore’s eyes widened at that, and he glanced at Harry and Draco. They both nodded their heads, confirming what the Potions Master was saying.

"Oh, my," the Headmaster said, his eyes losing their customary twinkle.

"Indeed," Snape snorted. "Upon seeing this, I realized that the only way they could have a closer blood connection was through me. So, using one of the other student’s semi-completed potions, I tested myself and Harry. Again, it changed color completely. What’s more…I did a silent paternity charm, as well. It confirmed it, for certain."

For several moments, the Headmaster merely sat there…staring. "I am so sorry, Severus," he finally spoke, glancing up at Snape. "Lily never…she didn’t tell me. I truly believed as everyone did that Harry was James’ son."

"I’m sure you did," Snape said, scowling. "Lily intended it that way. The only ones she apparently trusted were James himself and Tobias."

Dumbledore glanced at his former son-in-law, who nodded.

"It’s true, Al," Tobias told him. "Lily wrote to me right after that battle. She felt I should know my son was missing, presumed dead, but that the Snape name would live on: through their son."

"Why did you never tell me in our correspondences?" Dumbledore asked the older Snape, curiously.

Harry glanced at his grandfather, who shrugged. "It never came up," he said, simply. "Beisdes, I thought you knew… I had no idea Lily never told anyone."

"I see," Dumbeldore said, swallowing. "Severus, if I had known…I would never have left Harry with the Dursleys."

"You mean you’d have let me live with the professor?" Harry asked him, smiling.

The Headmaster nodded. "Yes, of course," Dumbledore told him. "He is your father, after all."

"I’m glad to hear it," Snape said, smirking, "because he will not be returning there. Ever. Petunia and her husband have neglected him outrageously, boarding on physical and emotional abuse!"

"I, uh, I was never certain," Dumbledore said, quietly. "Arabella’s letters mentioned him being a bit small and quiet and very biddible, but of course she was never allowed inside the house to see for herself."

"Which is why you should have let me," Snape informed him, firmly. "Invisibility spells exist for a reason, Albus!"

The Headmaster flinched at that. "Yes, child, I know," he said, quietly. "Very well. I shall transfer the blood wards to you."

"Blood wards?" Harry, Tobias, and Draco all asked at the same time.

"Yes," Dumbeldore explained. "I used a spell—centered around Harry’s blood connections to his aunt through his mother—to protect the Dursley home. No one who was in league with Voldermort (he ignored both Snape’s and Draco’s flinches at this) could find them."

"I believe, Albus," Snape told him, hesitantly. "That you will find the wards have disappeared…"

Dumbledore frowned. "That’s impossible, Severus," he said. "Lily’s sacrifice ensured that they would endure permanently."

"Had Lily’s sacrifice been a permanent one, yes," Snape said, "they would have. But…it wasn’t. Lily is not dead, Albus."

"Severus, I saw her lifeless body with my own eyes," the Headmaster told him, firmly.

Snape smirked. "What you saw was a transfigured stuffed toy," he told him, bluntly. "By the time you arrived, I had carried Lily from the remains of the cottage."

"I…do not understand," Dumbledore said. "Why would you have done such a thing?"

"Because she was not dead!" Snape growled at him.

"She was hit by the Killing Curse, Sev—" Dumbledore started to say…

"Yet, like Harry, it did not kill her," Snape told him, triumphantly. "The spell she weaved around Harry that night to protect him was a very strong protection Charm, Albus. Lily wasn’t aware how strong, nor of the fact that she had inadvertently linked it to herself, but it combined with her intense love for our son and her willingness to die for him made it even stronger—strong enough to encompass them both that night. When the Curse hit her, it merely put her into a state of suspended animation…a magical slumber, if you will."

"Then, where—?" Dumbledore spoke again.

"In a private room at St. Mungo’s Hospital," Snape told him, quietly. "I paid for it and have been caring for her all these years."

"Only," Harry spoke up, "she’s not asleep anymore! I woke her up!"

Snape chuckled. "Yes, you did," he told him, reaching out and ruffling his hair. "You gave her back what she had given you, son."

"What was that?" Harry asked him, curiously.

"Love," the Potions Master told him, gently. "When you told Lily you loved her, your magical essence gave some of itself back to her—enough to pull her from the state the Curse had left her in, anyway."

"Is she…all right?" Dumbledore asked, curiously.

Snape nodded. "She’s well on her way to making a full recovery," he told him, smiling. "Her magical core is slowly returning and she has begun physical therapy sessions that are strengthening the muscles she has not used in a very long time. According to the nurse I hired to care for her, she should be ready to leave the hospital by summer."

"I see," the Headmaster said, quietly. "It seems I am older than I thought…"

"Why is that, Sir?" Harry asked him, curiously.

"Because, my boy," Dumbledore told him, reaching out a hand to place on top of his head, "it seems I am not as clear sighted as I once was."

"Near sighted, more like," Snape sniffed, earning a glare from Tobias. "Well, Albus, now you know everything."

"Indeed, I do," he told him, smiling. "Thank you for tell me, my boy. I know I have not been the most caring of grandfathers…"

"You were when it mattered most," Snape told him, quietly. "That is why I have always strived to do as you asked of me."

"I never asked that which I did not think you capable," Dumbledore told him, standing up. "You have given me much to think about tonight. I shall leave you all to enjoy the rest of the evening."

"We’re going down to Hogsmeade in the morning, Al," Tobias told him, also standing up. "Would you like to join us?"

"Alas, Tobias, I cannot," the Headmaster said, sighing. "Minister Fudge as asked me to sit in on a last minute meeting of some kind or other."

Snape snorted. "That man would lose his ass if it wasn’t attached to his backside," he said, rolling his eyes.

Dumbledore chuckled. "Possibly," he told him, smiling at Harry and Draco. "Here you go, lads."

He reached into his pocket and produced some chocolate frogs, handing them to his great-grandsons.

"Thank you, Sir!" Both Harry and Draco exclaimed, happily taking them. They ignored the disapproving glare from the Potions Master, of course.

The Headmaster chuckled. "Good night," he said, and then returned to his office via the fireplace.

Tobias glanced at his watch.

"It is getting a bit late," he said, glancing at the boys. "Harry, would you like me to walk with you back to the Tower?"

"That’d be great, Grandpa Toby," Harry said, gathering his school books and things.

"Do not forget," Snape told him. "Meet us at the entrance right after breakfast in the morning."

Harry nodded. "I will, Sir," he told him. "I promise."

"Go on with you then, Fledgling," Snape said, ruffling his hair. "And don’t you dare stay up half the night with Mr. Weasley devouring those frogs!"

Harry laughed. "We won’t," he told him. "We’ll just stay up ‘til midnight…"

Snape narrowed his eyes, opening his mouth for a sharp retort.

"Just kidding!" Harry told him, as he started for the door—out of reach.

"Impudent brat," Snape called after him, but he heard the amusement in his voice.

"But you love me, any way," Harry told him, smirking. "Bye!"

"Good night, Drake, Sev," Tobias said, and then the two of them headed out of the door.

Harry smiled as they walked up the stairs to the main part of the castle. He couldn’t wait for tomorrow.

HPHPHPHP

Severus glanced at his pocket watch. It was fifteen minutes ‘til nine o’clock in the morning.

What was taking them so blasted long?

He and Draco had eaten breakfast in his quarters, instead of going to the Great Hall, which was why they had arrived early.

However, breakfast in the Great Hall should have been over at eight thirty at the latest!

"Here they come," Draco said, pointing to the stairs.

Severus looked up to see his father and his son coming down the stairs.

"Why aren’t you coming from the direction of the Great Hall?" he asked them, suspiciously.

"Oh, breakfast was a little…messy…this morning," Tobias told him, chuckling.

"Fred and George started a food fight," Harry said, smiling. "It was wicked!"

"And where were Minerva and the others?" he asked, glancing at Tobias. "Where were you?"

Harry laughed. "Grandpa Toby nailed Professor McGonagall in the eye with some whipped cream!"

"She started it," Tobias reminded him, smirking. "She threw the spiced apples at me!"

"Are you trying to tell me that instead of preventing the absolutely unnecessary waist of perfectly good food," Severus growled, through clenched teeth, "that my collegues—not to mention yourself—actually joined in!"

Draco sighed. "I miss out on everything," he grumbled sourly.

"No, you did not," Severus snapped at him. "Had I been there, it never would have happened!"

"Ah, Sev," Tobias said, smiling. "It was only a bit of fun."

Severus snorted. "Had I engaged in such 'fun' at Harry's age you and Mum would have blistered the seat of my pants," he reminded him, scowling.

"Yes, probably so," Tobias chuckled. "But I suppose that's one of the perks of being a grandparent. Besides, it only took a wave of Minerva's wand to clean everything back up again."

"Indeed," Severus said, but then sighed. "Well, what’s done is done. Shall we go?"

"Yes," Tobias said, winking at Harry and Draco. "After you, Sev."

"So, what did you tell the Weasel?" Draco asked Harry, as they made their way out of the castle.

"Don’t call him that," Harry growled at his cousin. "His name is Ron—"

"And he didn’t have to tell him any thing," Tobias said, "as I went by the Tower and picked him up myself."

"I’m sure he naturally assumes ‘the mean git of the dungeons’ was to blame," Severus said, quietly.

"Yeah," Harry said, sighing. "Probably."

"If it bothers you so much," Draco told him, sneering. "Why don't you just tell him the bloody truth!?"

"Language, Draco," Severus growled back over his shoulder. "Or do you need a reminder...?"

His nephew winced. He knew a 'reminder' meant a mouth full of soap suds.

"No, Sir," he shook his head quickly. "I'm sorry." Severus nodded, and then continued down the path towards the village.

"I am," he heard Harry tell him, scowling very much like his father. "After Christmas...that way I can tell him and Hermione together."

It took a good ten minutes to walk from the castle to the outskirts of the village. Once there, Severus stopped and glanced at them.

"All right, then," he said, much as a commander issuing orders to his troops. "This is how we're going to do this. We're going to split into two groups: Tobias will accompany Draco and I shall accompany Harry. Here, this is the money Narcissa sent for Draco to spend." He handed a small bag of Galleons to his father.

"Hefty sum," Tobias said, jostling the bag. He winked at his step-grandson.

"It is his customary allowance," Severus told him. "He is to spend it and only it...and he is to spend it only on others. This is, after all, a Christmas shopping expedition and that does not include buying for one's self."

"Ah, Uncle Sev..." Draco groaned. "What about Honey Dukes!?"

Severus sighed. He supposed Harry would want to visit the candy shop, as well, and this was the boy's first visit...

"You may spend no more than a single galleon there," he told him, firmly, "but that is all. Harry, it shall be the same for you. Understood?"

"Yes, Sir," both boys answered him.

He nodded. "Very well," he said. "We shall all meet back at the Three Brooms Inn in a couple of hours, have some lunch, and then return to the castle."

"Why can't we go to the Hog's Head?" Harry asked him, curiously.

"Two reasons," Severus told him, simply. "One is that it is not open right now. It only opens after the sun has set, and also because it is no place for children."

"But I wanted to meet Professor Dumbledore's brother," Harry told him, quietly.

"You shall meet him at a later date, I assure you," he told him. "Now, let's hurry up and get this over with."

Entering the village proper, Tobias and Draco took one side of the street while he and Harry took the other side.

"Did you remember to do as I told you and write down a list of all those you wished to buy for?" Severus asked the dark haired boy beside him.

Harry nodded, reaching into his pocket and retrieving a list. "I sure did," he told him, smiling. "Ron and Hermione, of course, and then Mum. Hagrid, Professor Dumbledore, Grandpa Toby, and, um, you--but I can't exactly get yours since your with me...but that's okay. I already have an idea what I'm gonna get you... Do you think I should get something for Draco, too?"

"I am sure he is not expecting it," Severus told him, "but it would be very nice of you if you did. I would also like to say how proud that you are attempting to be civil to him."

"Yeah, well, right now its easy," Harry told him. "He only acts like a prat once and while with everybody gone...I can't promise anything once school starts again, 'cuz then he'll have Crabbe and Goyle back and he'll probably start being one again."

Severus grinned at that. He was amazed at the logic of children sometimes...

"So long as you do not let him cause you to do something you both shall regret," he told him, "simply walk away or tell me. I shall deal with him if he starts anything."

Harry nodded. "Yes, Sir," he said, quietly.

"Do you have any idea what it is you'd like to get everyone?" Severus asked him, curiously.

"Well, I thought I'd get Hermione some kind of book," Harry told him, "and something to do with Quidditch for Ron...do they make posters in the Wizarding World?"

"I...believe so," Severus said, hesitantly. "Why do you ask?"

"Well, Ron really likes the Chudley Canons," Harry told him, smiling. "I thought I might get him a poster of them...if they make them."

"We can check the Quidditch shop here," Severus told him. "I am sure they will have something. Any idea what kind of book for Miss Granger?"

"Well, she did mention she really wished she had a book that told more about the history of the wizarding world..." Harry said, glancing up at him. "Do you know one?"

"As a matter of fact, I do," Severus told him, smiling. "It is called Magic and Muggle: A Conjoined History. It goes into great detail about both magical and non-magical history."

"Wicked," Harry said, smiling. "Hermione will love that!"

Severus nodded. "Yes," he said, smiling. "I am sure she will. What else?"

"Well, I thought about getting Hagrid a pet or something," Harry said, "since he likes magical animals so much..."

"Hmm, I am not certain that would be wise," Severus told him, gently. "It is still a week 'til Christmas and animals do tend to make a bit of a mess..."

"Yeah," Harry said, sighing. "What do you think he'd like?"

"He loves Black Forest tea," Severus told him. "Perhaps you should get him an extra large canister of it..."

"Hey, yeah!" Harry exclaimed, smiling. "Great idea! What about Professor Dumbledore? Do you think he'd like a book?"

"No, actually," Severus said, his lips twitching. "The one thing Albus asks for every year, and nobody ever really gets him, is socks."

"Socks?" Harry asked, wrinkling his nose.

Severus chuckled.

"Yes, that is precisely the reaction he usually gets," he told him, smirking. "The clothing shop here in the village is rather famous for their socks. I think it would be nice if you gave him what he truly wanted, don't you?"

Harry nodded. "All right," he said, smiling. "What about Grandpa Toby?"

"That is a difficult one," Severus replied, scratching his chin. "I am only just reuniting with him myself, and while I remember what he once liked when I was a child—that doesn’t necessarily mean he still likes those things now. People’s tastes do tend change over the years."

"Well, what do you remember him liking from when you were a kid?" Harry asked him, curiously.

"He loved wood-worked things, naturally," Severus told him. "Chess, automobiles—especially antiques—and as I recall he had an abundant sweet tooth. Mum loved to bake…so I suppose they were a nice match for each other, after all."

"Then, how about I get him something from that Honey Dukes place," Harry said, smiling.

"Hmm, he would most definitely enjoy their Cauldron Cakes," Severus told him, nodding.

"Great," Harry said, smiling. "Now that just leaves Mum…and Draco."

"Draco should be no difficulty," Severus told him. "He is as Quidditch crazed as Mr. Weasley…and I believe he has been complaining that his old dragon-hide gloves are a bit small now…"

"Then, that’s what I’ll get him," Harry said, nodding.

"And your mother?" Severus asked him, curiously. "What do you intend to get her?"

Harry stopped, biting his lip. "I don’t know," he told him. "I want it to be really, really special. You know?"

"Indeed, I do know," Severus said, smiling.

"What are you getting her?" Harry asked him, curiously.

Severus smirked. "Would you like to see?" he asked, and the boy nodded fiercely. "Very well, follow me."

He led the way down the street to a small jewelry shop and entered. The door chimed as they walked through it, and a skinny salesman that always reminded him of a younger looking Ollivander smiled.

"Professor Snape!" he exclaimed, happily. "I was just about to send an owl up your way to let you know your order was ready, Sir!"

"I am glad to have saved you the trouble," Severus told him. "May I see them?"

"Certainly," the young man said, happily. "They’re some of my best work, if I do say so myself!"

From behind the counter, he pulled out a small black tray and set it on the counter.

Upon it was a pair of earrings, a necklace, and a bracelet. They were obviously a matching set.

The earrings and the necklace each held a single lily, the pedals of the flower were made of emeralds, while the bracelet was made of a string of lilies with small round rubies in-between them.

The settings were done in a mixture of silver and gold.

"Wow," Harry said, smiling. "They’re beautiful!"

"They are indeed," Severus said, smiling. "Lily’s mother once owned a set nearly exactly like this. Lily admired them very much. Unfortunately, as per her request, they were buried with your grandmother…so I thought I’d recreate them for your mother."

"Oh, and I have the other thing you requested," the young jeweler said, pulling out a small black box. "I hope it meets with your satisfaction."

Opening the box, it was revealed to be a ring.

The ring’s setting was the same mixture of silver and gold as the set with a large square-cut emerald in the center and small, round rubies embedded into and around the band.

Harry glanced at him, smiling. "Is that what I think it is?" he asked, hopefully.

Severus smirked. "If you think it is a wedding ring then you’d be correct," he told him. "As soon as your mother is well enough, I intend to ask her to be my wife…again."

"We’d be a real family then," Harry told him, happily. "Mum is gonna love this gift!"

"I certainly hope so," Severus told him. "Would you like to look here for your mother something? Orin has some really nice pieces…"

"Indeed I do, Sir," Orin, the jeweler, said proudly. "What did you have in mind, young man?"

Harry bit his lip, thinking. He began looking through the display cases. His eyes lit up when he saw a beautifully crafted hair comb.

"Mum was wearing this in your wedding album!" he exclaimed, glancing back at him.

Severus came over and peered at the ivory comb with the lily carved upon it.

"You are correct," he told him. "I still possess that comb, in fact."

"Oh my, that was one of my very first pieces," Orin said, smiling. "You ordered it, I believe."

"I did," Severus said, smiling. "I designed it myself, if I remember right."

"You did," Orin told him, happily. "I liked it so much I recreated it. It has actually been one of my most sold pieces."

"I want to get it for Mum," Harry said, smiling. "That way she’ll have a matching set!"

Severus smiled. "Very well, son," he told him, patting him on the back. "We’ll take the comb, as well as my order."

Orin nodded. "Will you be paying separately or together?" he asked him, curiously.

"Together," Severus told him, before Harry could say otherwise. "How much?"

"For you, Professor," Orin said, grinning. "I’d say…100 Galleons and 25 Sickles."

Severus nodded. "Very well," he said, depositing a small bag upon the counter. "There you are."

Orin quickly did an ‘add-it-all-up’ charm and smiled. "I shall box these for you," he told him, and did just that.

A few minutes later, he and Harry were headed out of the shop. "Mum is really gonna like these," the boy said, happily.

"I am sure she will," Severus told him, "but do not forget, Harry. As nice as the gift is, it’s always the thought behind it that counts more."

The boy nodded, but was still all smiles. It made Severus happy to see him smiling.

He was certain he’d few to no happy Christmases while living with his aunt and uncle.

They proceeded to obtain the other items they had discussed, their last stop being Honey Dukes.

Here Harry got his grandfather an entire assortment of Cauldron Cakes, as well as himself a rather large carton of chocolate frogs with the one galleon he was allowed to spend on himself.

"You and Mr. Weasley had better not consume all those in a single night," Severus told him, sternly. "If Madame Pomfrey has to fire-call me to get her more Unset-Upset Potion I will not only dose you with my worst tasting potion I have, but I will also send you back to bed with a stringing behind!"

Harry simply nodded and said, "We won’t. Besides, I’d share with Percy and the twins, as well as Ron."

"The same goes for them," Severus sniffed, his lips twitching again despite himself.

They met up with his father and nephew at the Three Broomsticks, where they proceeded to eat a rather delicious lunch.

Then, they headed back up to the castle.

"Well?" Severus asked, curiously. "Did you enjoy your first trip to Hogsmeade?"

"Yeah!" Harry exclaimed, happily. "This is going to be he best Christmas ever!"

"Indeed," Severus said, smirking.

He knew the boy was right. This would indeed be the best Christmas.

For them all.

SSSSSSSSS

Lily smiled as she finished wrapping the last gift. "There," she said, happily.

"All done, dear?" Gretchen asked her, smiling.

"Yes," she said. "Do you think Severus will like it?"

"Its coming from you, dear," the nurse told her, smiling. "Of course, he will."

"I can’t thank you enough," Lily told her. "For going and getting these for me…"

"You picked out everything," Gretchen told her. "I merely was the delivery service."

"I do hope Harry and Severus will enjoy these," she said, "and Tobias, too. Of course, there’s also little Draco—Sev’s nephew—and Professor Dumbledore…"

"A gift for me, Lily," a soft spoken voice said from the doorway. "I’m deeply touched, my dear."

Lily and Gretchen both looked up to find the Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry standing there.

"Albus!" Lily exclaimed, smiling brightly at the sight of the older wizard.

"Well now," Gretchen said, getting up. "I have other patients to see to, so I’ll just give you some privacy." With a wink at Lily, she exited the room.

Dumbledore came in and sat in the chair the mediwitch had just vacated. He stared at her, his blue eyes twinkling like always—only they were twinkling with unshed tears.

Lily gazed down at him, smiling kindly. "Severus told you, I take it," she told him, smiling.

Dumbledore nodded. "He did, indeed," he said, quietly. "I did not wish to believe it at first…"

"But here I am," Lily said, smiling. "I hope you aren’t angry with him…for keeping a secret all these years."

"I am used to Severus and his secrets, child," the Headmaster assured her, quietly. "I am so overjoyed to see you…alive and well."

"Not entirely well," Lily told him. "Though I am gaining strength physically, I am able to stand on my own now and even walk short distances; my magical core is taking its own sweet time recovering, but Gretchen and the Healer who is overseeing my therapy that I should be fully recovered by summer."

"Just in time to join Severus and Harry," Dumbledore said, smiling. "They will be immensely pleased, I am sure."

Lily smiled. "They come to visit me regularly," she told him. "As does Tobias—how are he and Sev getting on?"

"Remarkably well," Dumbledore told her. "They took Harry and Draco down to Hogsmeade today to do some Christmas shopping, in fact."

Lily smiled at that. "I’m glad," she told him. "Severus has missed his father…even though he would never admit to it."

"Indeed," Dumbledore chuckled. "My grandson can be a bit…stubborn, at times."

"So could his cousin," Lily said, and then glanced at him sadly. "I am so sorry about James, Albus. I know how much he meant to you…"

"He died a heroes death," the Headmaster said. "His mother and father would have been proud of him for protecting you and Harry—and so am I."

"I’m sorry we did not tell you everything," Lily told him. "We felt the fewer who knew the less likely it would be for anyone to discover that Harry was really Severus’ son."

"No need to explain, dear," Dumbledore said. "I understand perfectly." He stood up.

"Thank you for coming by to see me, Albus," Lily told him. "I hope you’ll visit as often as Severus and Harry. Tobias, too."

"I shall, my dear," the Headmaster said, bending down to kiss her cheek. "I shall. You get some rest now. I’ll look forward to opening my gift on Christmas morning."

Lily smiled. "I think you’ll like it," she told him. "Good night, Albus."

"Good night, dear Lily," Dumbledore said, his eye twinkling merrily. Then, he was gone.

Gretchen stuck her head in the room a few minutes later. "Have a good visit, dear?"

Lily nodded. "Yes, we did," she said, glancing at the gifts sitting in front of her. She smiled.

This was going to be perhaps the best Christmas of her life!

Harry awoke on Christmas morning to the sounds of Ron and his brothers laughing and cheering.

"C’mon, ‘Arry!" Ron called down from the common room. "Come open your presents!"

Harry blinked, opening his emerald eyes.

Presents? He had presents!

But that couldn’t be…

You’re at Hogwarts, he reminded himself. Not Privet Drive!

Smiling, he sat up and reached for his glasses. He felt something underneath them and pulled it with them.

Putting them on, he saw that it was a piece of parchment. On it was written a note:

"C’mon, ‘Arry!" Ron’s shouted up to him again, this time followed by the twins’ voice echoing the sentiment.

Harry smiled broadly and bounded out of bed, putting on his robe as he went.

Stuffing the note from his father into his pocket, he scurried down the stairs to the Gryffindor common room.

There he found the Weasleys, all four of them, sitting around the Christmas tree Hagrid had brought for them and they had decorated themselves.

Ron and his brothers each had a small pile of unopened gifts in front of them. A fifth pile of gifts lay stacked, but untouched.

"Those are yours, mate," the youngest Weasley told him, smiling.

"Yeah, ‘Arry," Fred said. "Percy wouldn’t let us—"

"—open any of ours ‘til you got here," George finished.

"It’s only fair," Percy told them, sniffing. "Come along, Harry. Sit down and let’s be at this. It’s almost breakfast time and today we get to eat it here rather than in the Great Hall. We’ll eat Christmas dinner there, of course."

Harry sat down at his pile of presents and then they all began to open theirs. He waited a moment.

"What’cha waitin’ on, ‘Arry?" Ron asked him, tearing into his fourth gift already.

"Nothin’," Harry told him and began tearing into his gifts, as well.

From Ron, he’d received a box of Every Flavor Jelly Beans and a box of Chocolate Frogs.

From Hermione, he received a book on Quidditch.

From Hagrid, he received a tin of very hard biscuits—but it was the thought that counted, after all.

And then, to his surprise, he received some fudge and emerald green jumper with an ‘H’ in the center of it from Mrs. Weasley.

"That’s a Weasley sweater," Ron told him, holding up his own moroon colored one. His had an ‘R’ on it.

"Mum knits ‘em," Percy said, holding up his blue one with a ‘P’.

"Every year, it’s the same style and same color," Fred said, holding up his brown one with an ‘F’.

"The only thing that changes," George added, holding up the same kind as his twin only with a ‘G’ on it, "is the sizes!"

Harry smiled. "It’s great," he told them, "but why would your Mum make me one? I mean, she doesn’t even know me…"

"I’ve wrote her all about you, ‘Arry," Ron told him. "Plus, Mum and Dad were close friends with your mum and dad, I think, so she probably remembers you from when you were a baby…"

"It means," Fred told him, smirking wickedly, "that—"

"—you’re an honorary member of the Weasley clan," George finished, also smirking.

"That means they consider it they’re job to annoy the heck out of you," Percy said, snorting.

Harry laughed. "I don’t mind," he told them, "so long as the jokes not too bad. I’ll have to be sure to write your mum and thank her."

"You have one more gift left," Ron told him, pointing to a simply wrapped present.

Harry picked it up. It felt as if there was some type of cloth inside. He frowned. "Wonder what it is," he said, opening it.

Inside was a cloak made of a silvery material he’d never seen before. Ron, Percy, and the twins all gasped when they saw it.

"Merlin’s blue balls!" Percy, who shocked them all by swearing, exclaimed suddenly.

"Is that—" Fred started to ask.

"—what we think it is?" George finished for him.

"Blimey, ‘Arry," Ron said, "do you know what that is?!"

"A cloak," Harry said, holding it up.

"Not just any ole cloak, mate," Ron told him. "That there is an invisibility cloak! They’re very rare…"

"And very expensive," Percy added. "Who sent it to you, Harry?"

Inside the wrapping, Harry found a note. He read it silently:

This belonged to James, Harry. I know he would have wanted you to have it. Use it well—and wisely. Happy Christmas, my boy!

The note was unsigned, but Harry knew he it must have come from: Professor Dumbledore.

He’s the only one that calls me ‘my boy’, he thought to himself, and he’d be the only one James would have trusted to keep this.

"Well, ‘Arry?" Ron asked, curiously. "Who sent it to you?"

"Uh, it doesn’t say," Harry said. "It just says it belong to J—uh, my dad."

He had almost been about to say ‘James’, but then remembered that Ron and his brothers still believed that James Potter was his father.

"Try it on, ‘Arry," Ron suddenly said, smirking. "Let’s see if it really works!"

"Urr—okay," Harry said, standing up and swirling the cloak onto his shoulders. He watched as the Weasleys’ eyes all widened in surprise.

"Look, ‘Arry," Ron said, pointing down at his body.

Harry glanced down, but didn’t see anything. His body had completely disappeared!

He looked like nothing more than a floating head!

He took the cloak off and his body reappeared. "Wicked," he said, smiling.

"You said it, mate," Ron said, smiling.

"Well, you lot," Percy said, standing up. "Let’s get dressed and then order breakfast."

He waved his wand and cleaned up all the mess of the wrapping paper.

Then, gathering their gifts, he and the twins headed to their dorm rooms to get dressed.

Harry and Ron gathered their gifts and then headed up to the first year dorms.

"That cloak will sure come in handy, ‘Arry," Ron told him as they headed up the stairs. "’Specially, with us lookin’ for that Flamel guy."

"Hey, yeah," Harry said, smiling. "I could use the cloak to sneak into the library after curfew!"

"But we’ve already looked in all the books there," Ron said, puzzled. "Haven’t we?"

Harry shook his head. "Not in the Restricted Section," he told him, smirking.

Ron smiled, understanding dawning on his face. "Brilliant, mate!" he said, smiling.

"I’ll do it tonight, after everyone is asleep," Harry told him. "I won’t have to worry about Mrs. Norris or Filch—since there won’t be anything of me to see!"

"You’ll have to let me try it out sometime," Ron told him. "We could raid the kitchens for some snacks!"

Harry laughed. "You got it," he told him, as they entered their dorm.

Getting dressed, in a pair of his new blue jeans and his new sweater, Harry joined the Weasley brothers as they feasted on a delicious breakfast that consisted of hotcakes, waffles, eggs, bacon, scones, and hot chocolate.

Once they were done and the dishes disappeared, the twins suggested they go have a snowball fight in the courtyard.

"You all go on ahead," Harry told them, as they pulled on their coats, gloves, scarves, and hats.

"Don'tcha want to play, too?" Ron asked him, sighing. "I was hopin' you'd be on my team!"

"I, uh, I want to go see some of the professors and wish them a happy Christmas," Harry told him. "I'll be out in a little while, I promise."

"Guess that means..." Fred said, smirking at Percy.

"...you have to come along to be on little Ronny's team," George finished for him.

"I had intended to remain here and study," Percy said, loftily.

The twins each took one of his arms and began frog marching him toward the entrance.

"Not today, big brother..." George told him, smirking wickedly.

"...Christmas is for family," Fred added, as they exited. "Mum’s rule."

"Are you sure you don't want to come with us?" Ron asked him, sounding disappointed.

"I told you'd I'd be out in a little while," Harry told him. "Go on. Go have fun. Cream the twins with a couple of snow balls for me!"

Ron smiled. "It'll be my pleasure," he told him, chuckling. With that, he turned and raced out of the common room after his brothers.

Harry sighed. He really did want to go join them...but he also wanted to go visit his father and give him his gift.

Scampering upstairs to his trunk, he retrieved the four gifts he'd gotten for his cousin, father, grandfather, and great-grandfather.

They would probably be going and visiting Mum tonight after the feast...so he left her gift there, for now.

Making certain he had everything he needed, he headed out of the Tower and towards the dungeons...

HPHPHPHPHP

Severus awoke that morning feeling very...content? Peaceful? Dare he say...happy, even!

Blinking up at the darkened ceiling of his bedroom, he realized that for the first time in nearly ten years he was truly—blistfully—happy.

And he was looking forward for what today would bring. Getting up, he threw on his robe and slippers and headed out of his bedroom.

Opening the guest room a crack, he peered inside to find Draco still snoozing away, snoring softly with one arm thrown over his eyes and one leg hanging off the bed.

He smirked. That boy could sleep through a Howler even if it was right by his ear!

Knowing from past experience, his nephew would not be up for a little while yet, he went and put on a pot of tea and started a fire to warm his quarters.

He glanced over to his desk, where a small pile of gifts sat, and smiled in anticipation.

He hoped Harry would like his gifts. He'd thought long and hard on them, of course.

It was tradition for him to get three gifts for his nephew, so that is what he had also done for his son.

Draco was recieving a new quill/stationary set—having always admired his [Severus’]—with a 'ready-to-write' quill that was spill proof and never needed re-inking.

He was also getting a new Quidditch set, complete with pads and protective helmet.

Both of those he had requested, of course, but the third gift was going to be a surprise...for both him and Harry.

A knock on his door had him glancing up. "Enter," he called out, and the door swung open on its own.

Harry came bounding in, already fully dressed and carried several crudely wrapped packages in his arms.

"Happy Christmas, Sir!" he greeted him, smiling brightly.

Severus smiled at his son. "You are up early," he told him. "I figured you would still be sleeping."

"The Weasleys woke me up early to open presents," Harry told him. "I had ever so many!"

Severus smiled at the boy's enthusiasm, as he sat down his packages and began telling him what had received from his friends.

"And Mrs. Weasley made me this jumper," Harry said, tugging on the emerald green sweater he wore with an 'H' embroidered on it. "Wasn't that real nice of her?"

"Molly has known you since you were a baby, Harry," Severus told him. "I am not surprised she has 'unofficially' adopted you. You are her godson, after all."

"I am?" Harry asked, wide-eyed. "Ron didn't tell me that."

"That is possibly because he does not know," Severus told him. "Lily and Molly, along with Alice Longbottom, were all pregnant around the same time. If I recall correctly, Lily is both Neville's and Ron’s godmother, and Molly is your godmother."

"Wow," Harry said, smiling.

"Not only that," Severus told him, chuckling, "but Molly also happens to be my cousin."

"You mean me and Ron are cousins?" Harry asked, smiling brightly. "How?"

"Molly is Aberford Dumbledore's granddaughter," Severus explained. "Her mother, his daughter, married a Prewett. That makes her Professor Dumbledore's great-niece. Molly and I are second generation cousins. That means you and Ron are third generation cousins...and all of his brothers and sister, of course."

"Are they Draco's cousins, too?" Harry asked, curiously.

Severus chuckled wickedly at that. Lucius would have foaming-at-the-mouth fits if he knew!

"Yes," he told him, smirking, "as Eileen and Margaret Prewett were first cousins...by blood, anyway."

"Ahhh," a groan caused them to look over toward the hallway to find Draco standing there. "Isn't it bad enough that I have to be cousins with Potter! Now I'm related to the Weasles, as well!"

"Draco," Severus scowled at him, "just because it is Christmas does not mean I cannot wash your mouth out with a soaping charm!"

Draco huffed, coming into the sitting room and plopping down onto the sofa. "I hate mornings," he grumbled, sourly.

"C'mon, Draco," Harry said, smiling. "Cheer up! It's Christmas! Here, you can go ahead and open my gift first!"

Severus bit the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing out loud at the dumbfounded look on his nephew's face when his son presented the gift he'd gotten for him.

"You actually bought me a present?" Draco asked, taking it hesitantly. "It's, uh, it's not cursed or anything...is it?"

Harry snorted. "Just open it, you prat," he told him, shaking his head.

Draco did so, smiling with delight at the new pair of dragon-hide gloves.

"Wicked!" he exclaimed, happily. "I've so needed a new pair of these!"

"That's what the professor told me," Harry told him, nodding at him. "I'm glad you like them."

Draco glanced up, biting his lip. "I, uh, I didn't get you anything," he said, looking shame-faced. "I’m sorry, Pot—uh, Harry."

"I didn't give you a gift 'cuz I was expecting to get one back," Harry told him. "It’s the thought that counts, anyway."

"That is correct," Severus said, beaming at his son with pride. "However, you could say ‘thank you’, Draco."

"Thank you," Draco said solemnly, holding out his hand to his cousin.

Harry smiled, and shook it. "You’re welcome," he told him, also speaking solemnly.

Then, both boys burst into snickers and laughter.

Just then, the door to his quarters opened again and Tobias and Albus stepped in.

"Now there is a sound that warms the spirit," the Headmaster said, smiling at the two still laughing hoodlums.

"Happy Christmas, Severus!" Tobias greeted him, smiling. "Happy Christmas, Harry! Happy Christmas, Draco!"

"Happy Christmas, Grandpa Toby!" Harry and Draco exclaimed at the same time.

Severus merely nodded his head in acknowledgement.

"Happy Christmas, Professor!" Harry said, going and hugging the Headmaster.

"I believe, Harry," Dumbledore told him, smiling, "that since I am your great-grandfather it is all right, in private any way, for you to call me something other than ‘Headmaster’, ‘Professor’, or ‘Sir’."

"What should I call you, then?" Harry asked him, curiously.

"Hmm," the older wizard stroked his long beard. "Molly Weasley, who is my great-niece, has always called me ‘Uncle Alby’. Her children usually call me that, as well, whenever I take tea at their home ‘The Burrow’. So, I suppose, it would be perfectly all right if you called me ‘Grandpa Alby’."

Severus snorted at that, rolling his eyes at the ridiculous nickname, but Harry merely snickered.

"All right," he told the Headmaster, "Grandpa Alby."

He then motioned with his finger and when the man bent forward whispered something into his ear.

Dumbledore chuckled. "You are quite welcome, my boy," he told him, patting him on the head.

Severus raised an eyebrow at that, but didn’t comment. I’ll find out eventually, I am sure.

"You are, of course, also welcome to call me that in private, young Draco," Dumbledore informed the blonde Slytherin.

Draco grinned at that, but he [Severus] could tell the boy was touched.

Though they were both dead now, Abraxas and his father Brutus had not been the ‘kind, doting’ grandfathers they could—and should—have been.

Therefore Draco had never known a grandparent could be anything but cold and elusive…just as his father was.

"T-Thank you," his nephew said, quietly. "Grandpa Alby."

"Now that that is settled," Tobias said, merrily. "Who is ready to open their gifts?" He held up the packages in his hands.

He handed one to his son and one to each of his grandsons. "Thank you," they all said at the same time.

"Well," Tobias said, smiling. "Don’t just stand there gawking at them. Open them!"

Harry went first, tearing into his gift slowly so as not to harm whatever was inside, and then was quickly followed by Draco.

They both found a beautifully carved wooden box with their names engraved upon them along with their House crests.

"Open them," Tobias said, smiling. Harry and Draco did so, each finding a beautifully carved chess set inside.

"It’s beautiful!" both boys told him, going and hugging him. "Thanks, Grandpa Toby!"

Severus glanced at them, admiring the craftsmanship.

"They are indeed exquisite," he complimented the craftsmanship. "How did you manage it so quickly, though?"

"Well," Tobias said, sheepishly. "Albus kinda help me cheat a little bit…"

"I merely transfigured the blank wood into the pieces and the boards," the Headmaster said, his eyes twinkling. "You were the one who carved the details and painted them."

"Open yours, Uncle Sev," Draco told him, pointing at the unwrapped gift in his hand.

"Yeah," Harry echoed the sentiment, smiling at his father. "Let’s see what it is!"

Severus nodded, unwrapping the package his father had handed him. He found within a rather large photo album.

The cover of the album was made of wood and engraved on it was the ‘SNAPE’ family name, as well as an intricately carved depiction of a man, a woman, and their son.

In the center of the cover was a hollow square, depicting the picture on the first page of the album.

It was a picture of Tobias, Eileen, and him when he had been a small boy.

He blinked back tears, as he opened the album and quickly scanned the pictures there in—pictures depicting happier times and a family that loved each other very much.

He looked up at Tobias. "I thought these were all lost," he told him, swallowing.

"Not lost," Tobias told him, smiling. "Merely…misplaced. I knew you didn’t have all that much to remember her by. Do you like it?"

"It’s beautiful," Severus told him, sincerely. "Thank you…Da."

Tobias smiled at the name he had used for him as a child…and what it meant.

"You’re welcome, son," he told him, reaching out and touching his shoulder in a firm clasp.

Severus reached out and clasped his shoulder, as well. I’ve missed you, Da…I really have.

"Well now," Dumbledore said, his eyes even more misty than usual. "What about those gifts over there?"

Severus glanced to his desk and smiled.

"Harry, Draco, these are from me," he told them, handing them each two gifts. "There is a third one also, but open these first."

Draco ripped through his, obviously quite thrilled with his quill and Quidditch sets.

"Awesome, Uncle Sev," he told him, smiling. "I love ‘em!"

Harry unwrapped his first gift, which was the broom they had purchased for him that day in Diagon Alley.

"A Nimbus 2000!" Draco exclaimed, wide-eyed.

"I know, isn’t it wicked?" Harry asked, his green eyes sparkling. "Ron is gonna flip!"

"Open your second gift, Harry," Dumbledore encouraged him, gently.

The dark haired boy did so, finding a quill and stationary set to match his cousin’s.

His, however, had his name upon it and the Gyffindor House crest, too.

"Thank you, Sir," he said, glancing up at him. "They’re wonderful."

"There is one more," Severus told him and Draco.

Going to his desk, he retrieved to smaller wrapped gifts. He handed one to each boy.

They found inside them a medallion, one in gold and the other silver, with a phoenix engraved on the gold one and a dragon on the other.

"These are a Prince family tradition," Severus explained. "My mother had a medallion like that and she gave me one. Now, you both have one. On the reverse sides you’ll find the Crests for the Malfoys and the Potters. Charms of protections have been cast upon them, so wear them always. Also, you will be able to contact me—no matter where you are at—with them. Merely touch the medallion and think what you wish to tell me. I shall hear it."

"Wicked!" Both boys exclaimed, putting on their medallions immediately. "Thanks, Uncle Sev! Thanks, Professor!"

Harry then rushed over to the sofa where he had sat the packages he had brought. "This is from me, Sir," he said, handing it to him. "Please, open it."

Severus did so, finding inside a book. "Potions: A Subtle Science," he read the title, smiling. "This just came out not too long ago, I believe…"

Harry nodded. "Uh huh, that’s how I figured you didn’t already have it," he told him. "Do…do you like it?"

Severus smiled at him. "I love it, son," he told him, pulling into a tight embrace. "Thank you."

Harry then presented his grandfather and great-grandfather with their gifts.

Tobias was delighted with his cauldron cakes and Albus’ eyes all but twinkled out of his head at the sight of his bright, striped socks.

"Why, Harry, my boy," he told him. "How ever did you know I’ve always wanted socks?"

Harry chuckled, glancing at his father.

"A little bat told me," he told the elder wizard, earning a chuckle from the Headmaster and a narrowed look from his father.

"Cheeky brat," Severus muttered, smiling despite himself.

"Now then, I am certain we shall be visiting Lily this evening after the feast," Dumbledore said, smiling. "What say you boys go out and play in the snow for a bit, eh? It’s the perfect day for it."

"I told Ron and his brothers I’d meet them up there," Harry said, glancing at his cousin. "You can come too, Draco."

"Me?" Draco asked, sneering. "Play in the snow with the Weasleys! You have to be joking!"

Harry rolled his eyes. "They aren’t that bad," he told him, shaking his head. "It’ll be fun. You can be on my team. I’ll tell ‘em I ran into you and you looked all pathetic or something…so I had to invite you along."

"Hey!" Draco growled. "Malfoys don’t look pathetic, Potter!"

"Yeah, yeah," Harry said, "just c’mon, you prat!"

"Do not even think of going outside without your coats, scarves, and gloves!" Severus called after them, as they headed for the exit.

"Here you go, boys," Dumbledore said, flicking his wand and transfiguring some gum-wrappers into winter wear for them. "Off you go now!"

He also transfigured Draco pajamas into clothes and they quickly pulled on coats, hats, scarves, and gloves.

Severus smiled as he watched them head out of the room, arguing the entire way.

"Happy Christmas, Sev?" Tobias asked him, curiously.

Severus smiled and nodded. "Yes," he told him. "It is."

The best one I’ve ever had, he couldn’t help but think.

SSSSSSSS

Lily smiled and turned towards the door to her room as it was opened and her family waltzed in.

Severus, Harry, Tobias, Albus, and even young Draco bounded into the room with smiles on their faces.

"Mum!" her son exclaimed, brightly. "You’re out of bed!" He came to her and hugged her.

"Indeed, I am," she said, wrapping her arms around him. "Part of my physical therapy is that I have to get up and stand and walk short distances."

"But you are not to over excerpt yourself," Severus reminded her, a serious expression on his face. "Here."

He pulled a chair over for her to sit in. Rolling her eyes at his over protectiveness, yet also realizing that she was getting a bit tired she decided to sit down.

"So, how was your day today?" she asked them, curiously.

"It was great, Mum!" Harry told her, smiling brightly. "The best Christmas ever!"

He then promptly began telling her all about the gifts he had gotten from his friends, his grandfathers, and his father.

Also, he told her what his father had gotten and what his cousin had received as well.

"Harry," Severus told him, gently placing a hand on his shoulder. "Breathe."

Harry blushed in embarrassment at that. "Sorry," he said, quietly.

Lily laughed, reaching out to lift his chin.

"I don’t mind in the slightest, love," she told him, fondly. "As your father can attest to, I can be quite the chatter-box so I am glad you have inherited a little bit of that from me—otherwise, you’d be so quiet no body would know you’re in the room except you’ll probably be taller than every in it."

She glanced at Severus pointedly.

"Ha, ha," he told her, rolling his eyes. "That was so funny I forgot to laugh."

Harry gasped, glancing at him.

"Did you just make a joke?" he asked with such seriousness that it caused everyone—well, the adults any way—to burst out laughing.

"Here, Mum," Harry said, presenting his gift to her. "This is from me. Happy Christmas!"

"Oh, Sweetheart, thank you," Lily said, unwrapping the small package. "Oh, Harry!"

She held up the ivory hair comb. "I wore this exact same comb on my wedding day!"

"Actually," Severus told her, reaching into his pocket and pulling out another identical comb. "You wore this one."

Lily took the second comb and held them up. "Now I have a matching set," she said, happily.

"The Professor even had your initials engraved on them," Harry told her, showing her the ‘LJE’ engraved along one of the petals of the lily on each comb.

Lily wiped at the tears that sprang to her eyes. She hugged her son tightly.

"Thank you, darling," she told him, kissing the top of his head.

"This is from me, Lily," Severus said, handing her another—albeit a little thicker—square package.

Inside, she found a black velvet jewelry box containing a set of earrings, a necklace, and a bracelet.

She smiled, glancing up at her former—hopefully not too much longer—husband.

"This is just like the set my mother had," she told him, feeling tears well in her eyes again. "Except hers had roses instead of lilies and rubies instead of emeralds."

"I know," he told her, smiling. He knelt down beside her chair. "I remembered how much you always admired them…so I had them recreated for you."

"Oh, Sev," she told him, reaching out to cup his face with her hand. "Thank you so much. I love it."

"I love you," he told her, tilting his head up to give her a kiss...which she returned whole-heartedly. 

A throat being cleared got their attention, interrupting, and they glanced at his grandfather.

"This, my dear," Dumbledore told her, handing her a package, "is from me. It’s nothing new, I am afraid, but I think you will appreciate it."

Lily took the rectangular gift and opened it. Her eyes widened at the sight of the wand within.

"Is this…?" she asked, curiously.

The elder wizard nodded, his eye twinkling.

"Ten and quarter inches," he said, sounding exactly Mr. Ollivander. "Willow, very swishy—excellent for Charms...and Defense."

"Albus, thank you," Lily said, gently removing her wand from the box.

She felt the instant connection to it—and it felt as if she had just reconnected with an old friend.

In a way, she had. After all, for a witch her wand was an extension of herself.

Without it, it had almost felt like part of her was missing. Now, she felt truly whole again.

"And this, Lily," Tobias said, handing her yet another package, "is from me—and Draco, too. He picked it out."

Opening it, she found a very pretty pale green dress robe. She glanced up, smiling.

"It’s beautiful, thank you," she told Tobias, and the blonde boy beside him. "But how did you know my size?"

"Mother always takes me shopping with her," Draco said, blushing in embarrassment. "You and she are about the same size, I think…"

"The sales witch told us that one size will fit all," Tobias told him. "Apparently, it’s enchanted to either shrink or expand depending on the wearer."

"I thought you could wear it when you get to leave the hospital," Draco told her, shrugging.

She smiled at him. "C’mere, Mr. Malfoy," she told him, crooking his finger at him.

Hesitantly, he came to stand beside her.

He gave a little squeak when she wrapped his arms around him and gave him a kiss to the forehead.

"Thank you," she told him, gently. "Narcissa is very lucky to have such a kind, considerate son."

Draco blushed even more at that.

"It was Grandpa Toby’s idea," he told her, shrugging. "But he was going to get you this really ugly looking one…"

"Hey now," Tobias said, ruffling his hair. "It wasn’t that bad…was it?"

"It was bright pink!" Draco blurted out, wrinkling his nose. "She’d have looked like that Muggle medicine for stomach aches!"

"I believe he is referring to Pepto-Bismol," Severus said, chuckling.

"How do you know about that?" Harry asked his cousin, curiously.

The blonde boy wrinkled his nose at his uncle. "Uncle Sev gave me some one time," he told him, sourly.

"I had taken him to a Muggle amusement park one day a few years back," Severus explained, shrugging. "Where he proceeded to engorge himself on all sorts of food, despite my warnings. He ended up with a massive case of a stomach-ache and I had not thought to bring any potions with me. He did not wish to return home to get some, so…we stopped at the Muggle pharmacy and I purchased some."

"It didn’t taste too bad," Draco said, "but it still didn’t taste good, either!"

"Serves you right," Severus said, smirking. He also reached out and ruffled the blonde hair.

"I guess from now on I can call you "Peppy’?" Harry asked his cousin, smirking wickedly.

"You do and I’ll hex you into next year!" Draco threatened him, scowling.

"You do that and neither one of you will be sitting comfortably until next year," Severus warned, sternly.

Lily laughed, glad to see the easiness with which they spoke to each other.

"Thank you all so much for the gifts," she told them. "You each have one over there." She pointed to the tray.

Tobias walked over to it.

"Harry, Severus, Draco," he said, handing them their gifts. "That leaves one for Al and one for me." He handed one to Albus and took the last for himself.

"Open them," Lily encouraged them, smiling.

Severus smiled at the sight of the brand new quill. "Its lovely, darling," he told her, kissing her. "Thank you."

Harry was quite happy with his new gold pocket watch—that had the Gryffindor crest on it. "It's wicked, Mum," he told her. "Thanks.

Draco also received a pocket watch—his was silver with the Slytherin crest on it.

"Thank you, Ma’am," he told her, quietly.

"You can call me ‘Aunt Lily’," she told him, gently.

He nodded. "Thank you, Aunt Lily," she told him. "Father wouldn’t let me have one yet…he said I wasn’t old enough for one."

"Nonsense," Lily said, sniffing. "This way, you won’t have any excuse to be late for classes."

"Exactly right," Severus said, smiling. "Brilliant, love."

Albus received another pair of socks—bright red with white stripes. "Wonderful," he said, happily. "Simply marvelous!"

And Tobias received a new wood-carving kit—complete with every kind of carving knife available.

"They’re enchanted to never grow dull," she told him, smiling. "I remembered how much you loved whittling."

"Thank you," he told her, bending down to kiss her cheek.

"You are all very welcome," she told them. "Happy Christmas!"

"Happy Christmas!" they all exclaimed back to her.

Unfortunately, a few moments later, Gretchen came in to inform them that it was time to go.

"See you soon, Mum," Harry hugged her good-bye. "I’m glad you’re getting better quick."

"So am I, darling," she told him. "Be good, listen to your father, and mind the school rules."

"He shall," Severus informed her, seriously. He bent down to kiss her good night. "See you next week."

She nodded, watching them all go. "Well, dear?" Gretchen asked her, curiously. "Happy visit, I take it?"

"The best," she told her, happily.

And to think, she thought to herself happily, it’s only the first of many more to come…

Harry was on a mission.

Wrapped in his new invisibility cloak, he made his way down from Gryffindor Tower.

Being careful to listen for any signs of either Filch or Mrs. Norris, he made his way to the library and entered it.

The Restricted Section was thus called because it contained all the 'forbidden' and 'highly dangerous' tomes...most of which had to do with Dark Magic and the like.

Harry knew this and was certain that one of the books just might contain the answer he and his friends had been seeking.

Unfortunately, if he got caught he was certain to get a detention at the least…if not worse.

Though I don’t think Grandpa Alby would expel me, Harry thought to himself.

He supposed that was one of the advantages of having your great-grandfather as your Headmaster…

On the other hand, having not only your great-grandfather but also you grandfather and your father at school with you could prove very annoying.

If he did something wrong, even if it wasn’t Professor Snape who caught him doing it, it was bound to get back to him and when that happened…

Harry shuddered. If the night of the ‘forbidden duel’ was any indication, his father did not take rule-breaking lightly.

Not like there’s anything new about that, he snorted to himself. He could lighten up a little bit, I think. 

Of course, he wasn’t about to tell him that. He wanted to live to see twelve, after all.

Getting to the library without incident, he made his way inside and headed immediately for the Restricted Section.

Taking out his wand, he cast Lumos so that he would have enough light to see but not enough to attract attention from anyone out in the corridor.

Scanning the row of books on the nearest shelf, he walked the length of it and back; thinking.

Which could possibly have information about Nicholas Flamel?

Why does that name sound so familiar? Harry thought to himself with a frown.

Ever since Hagrid had mentioned it, it had been nagging at him that he had heard that name somewhere before.

But where?

It was on the tip of his tongue, if only he could…

Reaching up, he grabbed a book and took it down and opened it. Unfortunately,  the moment he did it let out a loud…well…shriek!

This startled him so badly that he dropped it onto the floor with a loud thud! and jumped back, right into a table—causing several of the chairs to tip over and hit the floor with a bang! 

His heart hammering in his chest, Harry quickly rushed to pick up the chairs and put the annoying book—which was still shrieking, by the way—back where he had gotten it.

Only when it had been shut and put back in its place did the stupid tome quit its caterwauling.

Thank goodness, Harry thought with relief—which was, unfortunately, short lived, as he heard the distinctive sounds of booted footsteps approaching.

And every student in the school knew that sound.

Quickly dosing his wand, he put his hand back underneath the cloak so that he was completely invisible.

A few seconds later, the door to the library opened and Argus Filch—the school’s caretaker—entered with his feline familiar Mrs. Norris.

Holding up a lantern to get a good view of the room, he glanced down at his cat.

“Have a look about, my pet,” he crooned at her, smirking. “Is it that wanker Peeves causin’ mischievous again…or a naughty brat steppin’ out of bed and bounds, eh?”

Mrs. Norris gave a ‘meow’ in answer and then to do as she had been bade. Searching the library for any signs of an intruder, she stopped once she had reached where Harry stood.

In fact, she was staring right at him.

Harry bit his lip. Could she see him? He’d always heard cats had excellent night vision but could they see something that was technically invisible.

 Invisible to human eyes, Harry reminded himself. Ron and his brothers didn’t mention whether animals could still see me or not… 

Mrs. Norris moved past him a second later, going over to where he had stood a few moments before. She let out another ‘meow’.

“Find something, my pet,” Filch crooned at her, coming over and holding up his lantern. “Well, well…what have we hear?”

He was glancing down at the floor, and Harry followed his gaze—letting out a silent groan to himself.

Where he’d walked back and forth along the book shelf there were distinctive foot prints—apparently, the librarian had not swept that particular section in a some time.

Filch smiled as if it were suddenly his birthday. “Come, dearest,” he said to his cat, smirking wickedly. “Let’s go tell Professor Snape a student is out of bed! I can’t wait til he catches them. Maybe Professor Dumbledore will let me use some of the old punishments, eh?”

With that, the wicked caretaker and his disgustingly loyal familiar exited the library.

Harry felt his heart beat even faster in his chest.

He’s going straight to my father, he thought with sudden horror. He’ll know it was me! I just know it!  

At that point, Harry was ready to simply let his feet do his thinking for him. He quickly exited the library and dashed back toward Gryffindor tower.

Unfortunately, in his rush, he nearly collided with two individuals as he rounded a corner.

One of them was Professor Quirrel and the other was…his father!

Snape had the DADA professor pressed against the wall, his wand at his throat.

Harry, who had managed to skid to a halt without bumping into either man, frowned. Why was his father—?

“You’d best rethink where your loyalties lie, Quirrel,” the Potions Master growled at the quivering Defense teacher.

“I-I-I d-d-don’t k-k-know w-w-what y-y-you’r t-t-talking a-a-about, S-S-Sev’rus,” the turbaned man stuttered.

Snape narrowed his eyes at him. “Don’t you?” he growled, ominiously. “I know it was you that was hexing Potter’s broomstick!”

Harry’s eyes widened at that. Professor Quirrel had hexed his broom! But, why?

Quirrel shook his head, violently. “Y-Y-You’re m-m-mistaken,” he stuttered, frantically. “W-W-Why w-w-would I w-w-want t-t-to h-h-hurt T-T-The-B-B-Boy-W-W-Who-L-L-Lived?!”

Snape snorted. Harry knew he hated that title as much as he [Harry] did.

“I’m not sure,” the Potions Master sneered. “You tell me?”

The look he was giving the quivering mess of a man was one of pure venom—if looks could kill Quirrel would certainly be on the floor dead.

Harry didn’t realize it, but he had been holding his breath.

Suddenly feeling his lungs constrict painfully, in need of air, he had no choice but to release it.

“This is your last warning,” Snape growled at Quirrel. “Stop whatever you are plotting and leave—”

The Potions Master froze in mid-sentence, turning to stare directly where Harry was standing.

Harry felt his heart stop. Did he know he was here? Could he somehow…sense…him?

Keeping one hand on the Defense teacher to keep him pinned to the wall, Snape reached out with one long hand toward where Harry stood.

Biting his lip, Harry took an involuntary step backward—evading the hand by millimeters.

Snape frowned, as his hand closed on empty air—a look of puzzlement on his face.

Just then, Filch appeared with Mrs. Norris from the opposite end of the corridor.

“Professor Snape, Sir,” the caretaker wheezed, as if he’d been running a great deal. “There’s a student out of bounds—out of bed—roaming the castle!”

Snape narrowed his eyes. “Who?” he growled, annoyed.

Filch shook his head. “Not sure, but somebody’s been in the Restricted Section of the library,” he told him, smirking wickedly.

Snape nodded, giving Quirrel a pointed look.

“This is far from over, Quirrel,” he growled. “C’mon, Filch, there’s not a moment to lose!”

With that, the two men and Mrs. Norris dashed back down the corridor in search of the ‘wayward’ student, leaving Harry alone with the still quivering Defense professor.

Quirrel watched them leave, following them with wide frightened eyes, but the moment they were out of sight the quivering stopped and a sneer found its way upon the man’s pale face.

Harry gaped, open mouth, as he watched his usually docile professor raise himself to his full height and glare in the direction.

“My ‘last warning’, is it?” Quirrel growled, his fists clenching, without any hint of his stutter whatsoever. “We shall soon see who’s ‘last’ it truly is, Severus. Oh yes, we will…”

With a strange glance to what must have looked like nothing but empty air to him—the exact spot Harry was standing and Snape had reached for—he sniffed, straightened his robes and turban, and then sauntered menacingly down the corridor.

Harry swallowed. That was not the same man who had fainted into a dead heap on Halloween!

And why does he make my scar hurt? Harry wondered silently.

Every time he was in the man’s class, his scar tingled. And just now, as he clenched his fists, it had burned considerably. Almost—

Like it had that night in the Forbidden Forest when he and Draco were attacked by whatever it was that killed the unicorn!

Harry gasped, shocked. That’s exactly what the burning sensation reminded him of!

This was definitely a disturbing development, but it would explain how Quirrel was the only to know of the troll—he probably let it in—and why his broom stopped bucking wildly when his father’s robes caught on fire.

He knocked Quirrel over when he jumped up to put out the fire, Harry remembered. I wonder if he did it on purpose, since he knew it was him that was hexing my broom… 

Just then, light reappeared at the end of the corridor along with the sound of approaching feet.

Harry panicked, forgetting momentarily that he was invisible due to his heart hammering in his ears, and he quickly ducked into the nearest room.

Once the door was closed behind him, he quickly removed his cloak and slumped down—breathing hard.

Leaning against the door, he tilted his head to listen. Unfortunately, he heard nothing.

He glanced down at the crack between the bottom of the door and the floor, but saw no lamplight.

He realized then that despite not having his wand lit, he could see fairly well and glanced around the room.

It was all but empty, except for a large guilted mirror standing in the center of it, and hight over head were three large windows with the full moon shining brightly down through them.

Well, Harry thought as he stood up and let his cloak sink to the floor. That explains why I’m not totally in the dark.  

Making his way over to the mirror, he stopped in front of it and examined it.

It was very old, obviously ancient, with intricate carvings around the frame and the word ‘Erised’ written in an archaic script along the arch directly above the glass.

“Erised,” Harry muttered, frowning. He’d never heard that word before. Was it Latin?

“Sounds Latin,” he told himself, shrugging. “Wonder why its in here all by itself?”

He gazed into the mirror’s glass, and of course only saw his own reflection—at first.

His eyes widened as in the mirror two people appeared standing beside him. He glanced behind him, but saw no one.

Unfortunately, they were very much there in the mirror. One he recognized immediately as his mother.

“Mum,” he said, smiling. “And…James.” For the man beside her could only be the man everyone believed to be his father with his unruly dark hair, glasses, and hazel eyes.

They both smiled at him, but then the image of James blurred and when it cleared he was gone.

In his place was now Professor Snape…and he was actually smiling!

“Weird,” Harry thought, shaking his head. In the mirror, his mother and father both reached out and touched his shoulders.

Suddenly more people appeared in the mirror, standing behind his parents. Behind his mum was a man with red hair and blue eyes and standing beside him was a blonde woman with emerald green eyes.

These were Lily’s parents, his maternal grandparents, Hal and Rose Evans. He recognized them from the album Snape had given him.

Behind his father stood Grandpa Toby and a tall woman with a pale complexion, long silky black hair, and obsidian eyes.

“Grandma,” Harry said, smiling at Eileen Snape (nee Prince).

Suddenly, behind his parents and his grandparents appeared Professor Dumbledore, and again Harry did a double take to see if he was actually there. He wasn’t.

“This mirror is funny,” Harry said, smiling. “It’s showing me my family…but why?”

Because you’ve never had one before, he told himself silently.

Instinctively, he somehow knew this mirror was showing him what he desired most.

“Desire,” Harry realized, glancing up at the archaic script again. “‘Erised’ is desire spelled backwards!”

He smiled, glancing at the people in the mirror—who were all beaming at him. He smiled back.

“Ron will flip when I show him this,” he said, excitedly. He rushed back to grab his cloak, and raced out of the chamber…

…Only to collide head first into something.

Falling onto his backside, he glanced up. His eyes widened in shock and dismay.

Looming over him, the sternest look he’d ever seen on his face before, was none other than Professor Severus Snape.

Harry paled.

Uh-oh... 

HPHPHPHP

Severus stood looming over his son, glaring down at him sternly. Bending down, he reached under his arms and lifted him to his feet.

His eyes caught sight of something silvery on the floor, and he reached to pick it up. He recognized it instantly.

“So,” he said, raising an eyebrow at Harry. “This is the mysterious gift Albus gave you. I should have known…”

Shaking his head in disgust, making a mental note to have a private chat with his grandfather in the morning, he turned a stern gaze upon his errant son.

“You had best have a damn good reason for being out of bounds,” he growled at him. “And out of bed!”

“Um…” Harry said, biting his lip. “What counts as a very good reason, Sir?”

Severus narrowed his eyes. “Something that has to do with life and death,” he told him, firmly.

“Oh,” Harry said, glancing down. “Then, no. I don’t.”

“I see,” Severus said, his nostrils flaring. “Come.” He turned, the invisibility cloak still clutched into his hand, and then turned to start back down the corridor.

“W-Where are we going, Sir?” Harry asked him, hesitantly.

“To my quarters,” he told him, stiffly. “We need to have a little…talk.”

He did not fail to see the wince that crossed his son’s anxious face.

Foolish brat, he thought with a snort. What’s it going to take to keep your feet firmly planted where they are supposed to be?

He led the way to his quarters, ushering the boy inside without a word, took off his robes, hung them up, and then crossed over to sit in his chair beside the fire.

He glanced at the cloak in his hands, wrinkling his nose at it, and then gazed sternly at his son.

“Explain yourself,” he ordered, sternly.

“W-What do you mean?” Harry asked him, hesitantly. “Sir?”

“I mean, you are obviously not sleep-walking,” Severus informed him, dryly. “Therefore, you are willingly up out of bed, wandering around the castle. Was this just a test run, with the cloak? Were you trying to sneak into the kitchens for a midnight snack…or somewhere else?”

He narrowed his eyes, causing Harry to glance at the ground. Reaching out, Severus lifted his chin.

“Mr. Filch reported someone was roaming in the library tonight, in the Restricted Section,” he told him, evenly. “Was that you?”

Harry bit his lip, and he could see the indecision within those large emerald orbs. To lie? Or not to lie?

For your sake, Harry, he thought with a fierce frown, you had best choose option B. 

Harry sighed. “Yes, Sir,” he answered him, quietly. “It was me.”

Severus nostrils flared, despite the momentary pang of fatherly pride that swelled in him that the boy had been honest with him.

“And why, may I ask?” he growled at him, angrily. “What possible reason could you have for being there?”

Harry shrugged, not looking him in the eye anymore. “Just curious,” he muttered, sullenly. “Madame Pince won’t let us look at the books in that section!”

“And with a very good reason!” Severus hissed, yanking his chin up roughly. “Some of those tomes are dangerous, boy! Deadly dangerous, do you understand me?!”

He gave him a slight shake, in frustration. Harry’s eyes were as wide as saucers. “I’m sorry,” he blurted out. “I didn’t know!”

“And that excuses it, does it?” Severus asked him, sternly.

Harry shook his head. “No,” he said, quietly. “I guess not.”

“I know so,” Severus told him, firmly. “And we shall deal with your breaking school rules in a moment. Right now, though, we will discuss this!” He held up the cloak.

“It was my Christmas gift from Grandpa Alby!” Harry said, quickly. “He told me use it well…and wisely.”

Severus snorted. Leave it to his grandfather to deliver such a humongous temptation into the hands of an eleven year old child and leave him nothing but a bloody cryptic message as instructions!

Albus and I are having a very serious discussion first thing tomorrow morning, he thought to himself.

“And have you done that, Harry?” he asked him, curiously. “Used it well…or wisely?”

“Um…well,” Harry said, frowning. “What else am I supposed to use it for!?”

“Not breaking the rules, that’s for sure,” Severus growled at him. “Do you know what the original purpose of this type of cloak was used for?”

“No,” Harry answered him, honestly.

“It and the handful of its kind that remain today,” Severus told him, evenly, “we’re created back before shielding and invisibility charms that worked on people were created. It was used as means of getting out of danger, of escaping from a dangerous mob of people intent on burning a witch or wizard at the stake. It was never meant to be used as a child’s plaything!”

Harry huffed at that. “Grandpa Alby said it belonged to James,” he told him, sullenly. “What did he use it for?”

“Much the same as you did tonight,” Severus told him, wrinkling his nose. “To break curfew and roam the castle. His father apparently did the same. I swear, what the adult Potters were thinking I will never know! Or my dottering grandfather, as well! But this is it. The cycle stops here and now. I will be keeping this—”

“You can’t!” Harry cried, dismayed. “It was a Christmas gift—to me! It’s mine!”

“And I am not contesting that,” Severus told him, firmly. “It is yours, along with the vault at Gringotts, by right of the fact that you are James Potter’s legal heir. However, you are not of legal age yet and as such your mother and I are the caretakers of said inheritance. You are too young and irresponsible right now to use this properly, as you’ve more than abundantly proven tonight, and therefore shall not get it back ‘til I am certain you are.”

“That’s not fair!” Harry told him, angrily.

“I’m sorry you feel that way,” Severus told him, quietly. “My decision stand, however.”

Harry glared at him. He glared back. The boy was the one to look away first.

Severus smirked. Stubborn to the bone, he thought to himself. Yes, son, you are most definitely a Snape! 

“Now then,” he said a moment later, “about your little stroll through the castle tonight…”

“It’s the holidays,” Harry said, suddenly. “You can’t take points!”

“Very true, and I had not intention of doing so,” Severus told him, sternly. “You could easily have been harmed this night, Harry, I hope you realize that.”

Harry frowned. “What do you mean?” he asked him, curiously. “That book just screamed at me…”

“Then you are very lucky,” Severus told him, firmly. “Had that been another kind of book, it could have sucked you inside it and trapped you forever within its pages!”

Harry gasped. “There are really books like that in there?” he asked, stunned. “Why?”

“Because,” Severus told him, “this castle is very old and many of the tomes in that section date back before the ministry was created and laws imposed on certain types of magical research. Since those books cannot be destroyed by either magical or muggle means, it was felt that Hogwarts was the safest place for them. That is why whenever the upper-level students need research from there that they go request what they need from Madame Pince—for she is the only one authorized to retrieve the books…as she is the one trained to know which books are dangerous and not.”

“Oh,” Harry said, quietly.

Severus snorted. “Oh, indeed,” he growled. “Furthermore, young man, wandering the corridors of this castle after curfew is dangerous in and of itself! There are rooms that appear and disappear all the time! Some of them do not reappear again for fifty years or more! Now tell me, what would have happened if you had wandering into one of those? Hmm?”

Harry paled. “I, I didn’t know,” he said. “I mean, I didn’t think—”

“That is abundantly clear!” Severus growled at him, angrily. “You could have been lost forever, no one knowing where you were, or how to find you—not even Professor Dumbledore! Do you know what that would do to your mother, Harry? Your friends? Your grandfather? Me?!”

Harry shook his head. “No, Sir,” he answered him, quietly.

“Well, I do,” Severus told him. “It would devastate us!”

Harry glanced at him full in the face, tears in his eyes. “I’m sorry,” he said, quietly.

Severus’ nostrils flared. “Sometimes,” he told him, evenly. “Saying ‘sorry’ simply isn’t enough!”

With that, his hand shot out and grabbed the boy by the wrist, pulling him to him.

With one swift tug, he had the boy over his lap and his wriggling bottom sticking up in the air.

“I will not stand for it, Harry,” he growled, bringing his hand back. “This reckless, utterly unnecessary habit of yours to put yourself in harm’s way is going to stop! Or I will tan your backside ‘til it does!”

With that, he brought his hand down with a resounding smack! Across the trouser clad rear end.

Several more smacks! reigned down in rapid succession—eliciting yelps from his son.

Just as before, by the tenth smack Harry was sniffling. By the fifteenth, he was crying softly. And by the twentieth, he was bawling openly.

Lifting the boy off his lap, he held him by the shoulders and stared him in the eye.

“It will stop,” he told him, firmly. “Do we understand each other?”

Reaching back to rub his stinging behind with one hand and wipe at his tear stained face with another, Harry nodded.

“A verbal answer, if you please,” Severus told him, firmly.

“Y-Yes, Sir,” the boy said, quietly. “I understand…Dad.”

Severus blinked at him a moment, not certain he had heard right. “Dad?” he asked him, curiously.

Harry swallowed, glancing up at him hesitantly. “Is that okay? That I call you that, I mean.”

“Is that okay?” Severus asked, smirking. “C’mere, you…”

With that, he lifted the boy onto his lap again—this time, however, he was sitting on it. He pointedly ignored the wince, as well as the slight whimper, that escaped as the boy’s sore bottom made contact.

He smirked. Serves you right, Fledgling, he thought. You have got to quit scaring me like this… 

Wrapping his arms around him, he pulled him against his chest and held him tightly.

“It is more than okay, son,” he told him, gently. “I was hoping you’d eventually feel comfortable enough with me to call me that, but…I did not wish to rush you. I know discovering I am your father has taken some getting used to.”

“Got that right,” Harry said, cheekily, “but I don’t mind so much now. I wasn’t sure, you know, if you’d mind or not. I mean, Grandpa Toby and Grandpa Alby told me what to call them, but you never did…”

“As I said, I did not want to push you if you were not ready,” Severus told him, gently. “I wasn’t expecting it so soon, actually. Any particular reason you’ve decided now is the right time?”

Harry shrugged. “I don’t know,” he told him. “I’ve been kinda thinking about it for awhile, I guess, I just wasn’t sure how I felt about you being my dad.”

“And are you sure now?” Severus asked him, curiously.

Harry nodded. “I saw something tonight that made me realize I like having you for a dad,” he told him, quietly.

“And, pray tell, was that?” Severus asked him, curiously.

“Well, that room you caught me coming out of,” Harry told him. “It had this mirror in it.”

“Mirror?” he asked, narrowing his eyes. “Gilted? With the word ‘Erised’ on it, perhaps?”

“How’d you know?” Harry asked, curiously.

Severus sighed. “Because you are not the first to find it,” he told him, snorting. “It generally gets moved every year or so.”

“Why?” Harry asked, curiously.

“Because it does not show you anything truly real, Harry,” Severus told him. “Merely what you wish to see…”

“But it showed me you and Mum,” Harry protested, questioningly. “And my granparents and even Grandpa Alby!”

“Was that your ‘desire’, then?” Severus asked him. “To see your family.”

“To have a family,” Harry told him. “At first, I saw Mum and James…but then it was you, instead. You were both smiling at me and I realized…I’d gotten my wish.”

“As I have gotten mine,” Severus told him, ruffling his hair. “You and your mother are my life now, Harry. I have been alone for eleven years now, and I do not ever wish to be so again. That is why I insist you be more careful and stop putting yourself into danger. I do not think I could bear if I were to lose you or your mother again…”

“I don’t want to lose you, either,” Harry told him. “That’s why I realized…I love you.”

Severus swallowed. Though he had told the boy how he felt, his son had yet to say those words to him…until now.

He felt moisture on his eyes, and quickly reached up to wipe them away. Must have gotten something in it… 

“I love you, too, son,” Severus told him, standing up. “Now, though, I think its time for bed.”

“Are you going to send me back to Gryffindor Tower like you did before?” Harry asked him, curiously.

“No,” Severus told him. “You will be remaining here.” Getting out his wand, he transfigured his son’s clothes into pajamas.

“But,” Harry frowned, “what am I gonna tell Ron?”

“Tell him the truth,” Severus told him, guiding him toward the guest room. “That you got caught, were punished, and I forced you to remain in my quarters for the night since it was so late.”

Harry sighed. “No wonder he thinks you’re trying to kill me,” he huffed, sourly.

“Indeed,” Severus smirked. “By the way, you shall be serving a week’s worth of detention with me once term starts up again…”

“Ah,” Harry started to complain, but he held up a hand to forestall him.

“Spare me,” Severus told him, smirking. “If you do not wish to do the time…”

“Don’t do the crime,” Harry muttered, sighing. “I know. I know.”

“Now you sound just like your cousin,” Severu chuckled, opening the door to the guest room.

Draco was sleeping soundly still. Thank goodness for that, he thought. One hoodlum out of bed is quite enough! 

Flicking his wand, he cast a duplicating spell and a matching bed appeared on the other side of the room.

Harry wrinkled his nose.

“What?” he asked him, curiously.

“Green and silver?” Harry said, nodding at the comforter that was on the bed.

Severus sighed. “Gryffindors,” he muttered, shaking his head. “Honestly!”

Flicking his wand, he changed the colors to crimson and gold. “Satisfied?”

Harry nodded, going and climbing into bed. Severus followed him in, pulling the covers over him once he was in bed snugly.

“The washroom is right across the hall,” he reminded him, removing his glasses and setting them on the nightstand. “As am I, but I trust you shouldn’t need me anymore tonight.”

Harry nodded. “Yes, sir,” he said, smiling. “Goodnight…Dad.”

“Goodnight, son,” Severus said, his lips twitching.

He stood, and the bent forward to place a feather-light kiss upon his son’s forehead. “Pleasant dreams, Fledgling.”

With that, he exited the room and shut the door behind him. Out in the hallway, he could not help but break into a full-fledged smile.

Who’d have thought one simple word could elicit such a response, he thought to himself as he made his way back to the sitting room.

He had a feeling it would be a long time before the word ‘Dad’ lost its appeal.

A very long time, indeed.

SSSSSSSS

“So, he finally called you ‘Dad’,” Lily said, smiling happily at Severus.

They were walking, side by side and arm in arm, in the hospital gardens.

It was the last day of the holidays, and the second term began tomorrow so this would be there last chance for a long visit for a little while.

Harry and Tobias walked ahead of them, the older man pointing out some of the non-magical flowers he recognized while Harry pointed out the magical ones.

“Yes,” he answered her, smiling.

“Oh, Sev,” Lily chuckled. “I’m so happy for you!”

“It’s the most extraordinary feeling, love,” Severus told her. “Do you feel it when he calls you ‘Mum’.”

“Yes,” Lily told him, gently. “Every single time…”

That was the truth. She had missed out on getting to hear him call her ‘Mummy’ when he was little so whenever he called out to her it never failed to bring a smile to her face.

Severus chuckled at that. “We are perhaps the sappiest parents on earth,” he said, good naturedly “Aren’t we?”

Lily laughed along with him. “Yes, I suppose we are,” she told him, “but would you have it any other way?”

“Now that you mention it,” he told her, grinning from ear to ear. “No, I wouldn’t.”

“Me, either,” Lily told him.

“Hey, Mum, Dad,” Harry stopped in his tracks and turned around to look at them. “Can I ask you something?”

“What?” Lily and Severus answered at the same time, both wearing identical smiles on their faces.

Oh yes, love, Lily thought happily, as their son pointed out a magical plant he did not recognize. We might be saps—but we’re damn proud of it!

The new term began, and winter soon melted into spring.

It was a very busy time for Harry, Hermione, and Ron.

Not only were they dealing with their classes and looming final exams, but they also had to help Hagrid with a ‘little’ problem.

It seemed the gentle half-giant had been given a dragon’s egg by someone; which the gamekeeper had decided to hatch and raise.

Unfortunately, it was illegal to own a dragon and so something had to be done about ‘Norbert’.

Ron had wrote his brother, Charlie, who worked with dragons in Romania. He had suggested that they send the dragonling to him via a few school chums that were due to visit him.

The only problem was, they needed to get the little fire-breather to the top of the astronomy tower after curfew.

"Really wish that greasy git hadn’t stolen your cloak," groused Ron, as they sat in the library devising a plan for ‘Norbert’.

Harry sighed. "He didn’t ‘steal’ it," he told him. "He confiscated it."

"Same difference," Ron snorted. "I still say you should go to the Headmaster—he’s the one that gave it to you—so I’m sure he wouldn’t let Snape get away with it."

His father had not only told Dumbledore about his little ‘stroll through the bloody castle!’ but had also given him quite a tongue-lashing for giving his son ‘a great bloody temptation’ and ‘near downright invitation to break rules’ without consulting him first.

"We’ll just have to be extra careful, is all," Hermione had piped up, as she explained the details of the plan she had concocted.

Unfortunately, when they’d gone to tell Hagrid the good news ‘Norbert’ decided to bite Ron on the hand—causing it to swell enormously.

"Ain’t ‘is fault," Hagrid said, awkwardly. "He’s a ‘teethin’ is all. Baby’s do that, you know."

"Yeah, we know," Harry snorted, as he and Hermione escorted the red head to the hospital wing.

Madame Pomfrey said he’d be all right, but he’d have to stay overnight just to be sure.

"What are we goin’ to do now, ‘Arry?" Ron had asked, fretfully.

"We keep to the plan," Harry had told him. "Me and Hermione will simply have to do it ourselves, that’s all."

And they had, too. They had managed to sneak Norbert through the castle and up to the astronomy tower, where they’d handed the baby dragon over to Charlie Weasley’s friends to be delivered to him in Romania.

Feeling very proud of themselves, he and Hermione had made they’re way down the stairs of the Tower—intent on going and telling Ron the good news—but had stopped in their tracks at the sight of Professor McGonagall waiting at the bottom for them…a very stern look on her face.

In one hand, she held Draco’s ear firmly. In the other, poor Neville’s.

It seemed Draco had overheard them discussing Hagrid’s ‘problem’ and he’d wanted to get a peek at the little dragon.

Unfortunately, he’d gotten caught by the deputy Headmistress just as he was trying to leave the castle.

He had, of course, tried to save his own skin by ratting them out. Some things might have changed between him and the blonde Slytherin, but that still didn’t mean he let go of all his ‘prat’ tendencies.

As for poor Neville, he’d apparently been in the hospital wing the day they’d brought Ron in. He’d overheard them, and decided he wanted to help…so, he’d followed them (after having accidentally fallen asleep waiting for them to come downstairs) and gotten caught just as he was leaving the Tower.

McGonagall was far beyond furious—especially since three of them were her ‘little cubs’—and she’d taken fifty points a piece from them and gave them all detention.

Harry and Draco had, of course, received quite a tongue-lashing from Snape, as well, but hadn’t received further punishment.

The boys had been very relieved by this, but also very confused. It wasn’t until the night of their detention they knew why.

Their detention was with Filch—and apparently the Potions Master had felt that was more than sufficient to ‘take care of things’—who had set them to scrubbing the various unused classrooms with a toothbruth, without magic, and on their hands and knees.

By the time they were done, all four of them had never wished they’d never seen or hear about ‘Norbert’ the dragon.

After that, Harry and his friends continued they’re search for the mysterious Flamel.

Now, it was only a week away from summer holidays, and they were still no closer.

Plus, they had had final exams all week—which had taken precedence, naturally, at least with Hermione.

"Our potions final is tomorrow," she told them, as they all sat in the library studying. "It’s our last one and you two are doing nothing but pigging out on junk food!"

"So?" Ron had asked, as he and Harry were polishing off the last of the chocolate frogs they’d gotten for Christmas.

"We are studying, Hermione," Harry told her, smiling. "Why can’t we eat while we do it?"

Hermione merely huffed, and returned to her potions’ textbook.

Ron rolled his eyes at Harry, who opened his very last frog and popped it in his mouth.

"Who’d you get?" Ron asked, curiously. "I got Helga Hufflepuff again."

Harry pulled out the card, smiling when he saw his great-grandfather smiling back at him. "Dumbledore," he said, happily.

"I’ve got loads of him," Ron sighed, frowning. "What’s it say on the back? I can never remember…"

Harry flipped the card over and glanced at the writing there. His eyes widened.

"Hey!" he exclaimed in an excited whisper. "Listen to this. ‘Dumbledore is also good friend with the noted alchemist Nicholas Flemal!’ I knew I’d see that name somewhere before!"

Hermione gasped. "Of course, that’s it!" she said, and sprang up quickly.

Harry and Ron watched her dash into the book shelves, only to return a moment later with a very large tome in her hands.

"I checked this out months ago for a bit of light reading," she explained to them, sitting the large book on the table.

"That’s light!" Ron exclaimed, disgusted.

"Shut up, Ron," Harry told him, shaking his head. "What’s it say, Hermione?"

Flipping through pages, she smiled. "Nicholas Flamel," she read, "is the only known maker of the Sorcerer’s Stone! A very rare magical artifact that can turn any metal into gold and when melted and brewed into a potion creates the Elixir of Life—which grants the drinker immortality…"

"So, that’s it," Harry said, smiling. "That’s what Fluffy is guarding beneath that trap door."

"And that’s what Snape’s after," Ron growled, scowling.

Harry sighed. You’ve put it off long enough, he told himself. Time to tell them…

"Ron, it’s not Snap who is after it," he told him, firmly.

"Ah, c’mon, ‘Arry," Ron said, snorting. "Why do you keep defendin’ that miserable black bat?"

Harry scowled, glancing around to make certain no one else was around them. Leaning in, he said, "Because that ‘miserable black bat’ is my father, Ron! That’s why."

Ron and Hermione merely stared at him, and he sighed.

He went on to explain about the Relative potion, Snape and Lily’s past together, his mother’s condition for ten years and her recovery over the last several months, Grandpa Toby, Grandpa Alby, and all the rest of it…

"I can’t believe it," Hermione whispered, wide-eyed. "I mean, I do believe you…"

"I’m related to Malfoy!" Ron hissed, suddenly. "Snape is my mum’s cousin!"

Harry nodded. "But so am I," he reminded him, smiling. "Isn’t it great, Ron. We’re cousins!"

The red head nodded. "Yeah, mate, it’s great," he said, shaking his head. "I knew Professor Dumbledore was Mum’s great-uncle…but nobody knows he had another daughter ‘sides Ariana."

"Oh, Ron, Professor Dumbledore might be a powerful wizard," Hermione told him, "but he’s still only as human as the rest of us. Are you saying you haven’t made your share of mistakes in the past?"

"Yeah, but…" Ron trialed off, unable to think of a suitable argument and then glanced at Harry. "He treats you okay, right? Snape, I mean?"

"Of course, he does," Harry told him. "Course, I wish he wasn’t so strict sometimes…but at least I know he only wallops me because he cares—unlike the Dursleys."

"He wallops you!" Ron exclaimed, wide-eyed.

Harry snorted. "Doesn’t your dad wallop you whenever you do something really, really stupid?" he asked him, pointedly.

Ron blushed all the way from the top of his head down to his toes. "Uh…yeah," he admitted, embarrassed. "I just…never thought of Snape as doing that, I guess. He seems more the type to…well…"

"Cut you up into potions ingredients?" Harry asked, smiling. "Yeah, I know. That night after he rescued me and Draco…it was the first time I’d ever been, well, you know and even though it wasn’t until the next day that he found out he was my dad, he still wasn’t mean about it. Thorough—bloody hell is the man thorough when doling out smacks—but not mean."

"And your mum is really alive?" Ron asked, curiously. Harry nodded. "Mum will be glad to hear about that. She and your mum were good friends."

"I know," Harry told him. "Did you know my mum was your godmother?"

Ron’s eyes widened. "NO!" he said, smiling. "Really?"

"Yep," Harry told him, smirking. "Apparently, she’s also Neville’s godmother, too. You mum is my godmother, by the way."

"Wicked!" Ron said, patting him on the back. "Cousins and godbrothers!"

Harry smiled, glad his friends were taking this so well. He’d been so worried about them hating him…or something.

"When will your mother get to come home, Harry?" Hermione asked him, curiously.

Harry smiled. "Today!" he told them, happily. "Dad’s gone to get her right now, in fact."

"How wonderful," Hermione said. "Will we get to meet her, do you think? I read she was quite the powerful witch and…well, I kinda look up to her…" She blushed.

"I’ll introduce you, personally," Harry told her, happily. "I’ve told her all about you guys."

"Hey, wait a minute," Ron frowned, something dawning on him. "If it’s not Snape who’s after the stone and trying to kill you, ‘Arry. Who is?"

Harry bit his lip. "I think it might be Professor Quirrel," he told them, hesitantly.

"Quirrel!" Ron exclaimed, snorting. "You’ve got to be joking!"

Harry shook his head. "No, listen…" he then told them about that last night of the holidays, and what he’d seen and heard in the corridor between his father and Quirrel.

"And after they were gone, Quirrel stopped quivering and he…well, he didn’t look nice at all," Harry told them, shuddering. "And every time I get near him, my scar burns."

"Bloody ‘ell," Ron swore, wide-eyed. This earned him a glare from Hermione, who turned then turned back to Harry.

"What do you think it means?" she asked him, curiously.

Harry shook his head. "I don’t know," he told them, frowning, "but whatever it is. It’s not good."

He shut his book and stood up.

"C’mon," he told them, "I need to stretch my legs and get some fresh air for a little while."

They both nodded and followed him out of the library.

As they made their way down toward Hagrid’s hut, where the half-giant was sitting outside playing a flute with his dog, Fang, sitting beside him, Harry suddenly stopped.

"Oww!" Ron hissed, bumping into him. "What’s the big idea, mate?"

"Of course!" Harry said, his green eyes widening. "Of course!" With that, he went running down toward Hagrid.

Ron and Hermione glanced at each other, shrugged, but then quickly dashed after him.

"Hagrid!" Harry said, stopping to catch his breath. "Need…to…talk…to…you…"

"’Course, you can," Hagrid told him, smiling. "What’s on yer mind, lad?"

"Who gave you Norbert’s egg?" Harry asked him, curiously. "Do you remember?"

"He was a tall fella," Hagrid told him, "but kinda mysterious like, too. He wore a dark hooded cloak—and kept the hood up so’s I couldn’t see his face."

"Did he ask you anything?" Harry asked him, curiously.

"Just about what sorta creatures I care for," the half-giant told him, shrugging. "Course, I told him the best way to deal with any kind’a creature, magical or not, is to know how to tame it. Take Fluffy, for instance, all’s you got to do is play him a bit’a music and he fall right to sleep—I, uh, shouldn’t told you that, I reckon…" Hagrid frowned.

"Was the man really interested in Fluffy?" Harry asked him, curiously.

"Well, a’course he was, ‘Arry," Hagrid told him, snorting. "How many three headed dogs to do you know?"

"Good point," Harry told him, patting him on the leg. "Thank, Hagrid! Sorry, we can’t stay!"

With that, he turned and started running back for the castle.

"’Arry!" Ron yelled, as he and Hermione followed him. "What the ruddy ‘ell are you doin’?"

Harry stopped, realizing he hadn’t explained anything. "We know that there are other traps guarding the stone, right?" he asked them, and they nodded. "Well, we also know several of the professors set those traps—and I’m willing to bet Quirrel was one of them."

"I don’t get it," Ron said, frowning.

"I do," Hermione spoke up, her eyes wide. "Quirrel ‘volunteered’ to help ‘protect’ the stone so he could learn how to get past all the other traps, right?"

Harry nodded. "That’s what I’m thinking, too," he told her, smiling. "But the only thing he didn’t know how to get past was…"

"Fluffy!" Ron exclaimed, realizing.

Harry nodded. "Exactly," he told him. "I bet you a hundred Galleons that Quirrel was the one to give Hagrid ‘Norbert’. And in exchange he tricked Hagrid into telling him how to get past Fluffy!"

"What are we going to do, Harry?" Hermione asked him, swallowing. "What’s to stop Quirrel from getting the stone?"

"Dumbledore," Harry told her. "C’mon!" With that, he turned and raced back inside the castle.

They headed straight for McGonagall’s office and dashed inside. "Professor!" he cried, running up to her desk, where she was sitting working on grading her Transfiguration exams. "We need to see Professor Dumbledore immediately!"

McGonagall blinked at him. "I am afraid that’s not possible," she told him. "He left this morning for London—the Minister called a special meeting."

"He’s gone!" Harry exclaimed, horrified. "NO! He can’t be, we need him here! Now!"

"Potter, whatever is the matter?" the deputy Headmistress asked, frowning. "Is it something I can help you with?"

"Professor, we believe somebody is going to steal the sorcerer’s stone!" Harry blurted out.

Again, McGonagall blinked at him. But then, she stood up and leveled them with a fiercely stern look.

"I do not know how you know of that, Mr. Potter," she told him, firmly, "but I can assure you it is quite safe. You need not worry about it."

"But, Professor," Harry protested. "I’m telling you—"

"No, Potter," McGonagall growled. "I am telling you. Get back to the Tower immediately. You three are not to leave there tonight for any reason. We’ll have no more of this foolishness. The Stone is perfectly safe. Now, go!" She pointed one long finger at the door.

Harry scowled at her, but then nodded and headed out of the office. "C’mon," he told his friends.

"Where are we going now?" Hermione asked him. "McGonagall said—"

"Screw what McGonagall said," Harry growled, fiercely. "There’s somebody Quirrel is even more afraid of than Dumbledore!"

Just as they rounded the corner, he caught sight of the person he was looking for. "Grandpa Toby!" he called out, gaining Tobias attention.

Tobias turned around, smiling at the sight of him. "Hullo, Harry," he greeted him, happily. "Doin’ well on your exams, I hope?"

"Yes, Sir," Harry told him, "but I wanted to ask. Is Dad back with Mum yet?"

Tobias shook his head. "No, Harry, not yet," he told him. "They were planning to go straight to Hogsmeade after leaving the hospital. Your mum needs new clothes, remember? And I think they were planning to spend the night at the Three Broomsticks, as well. Is something wrong?"

"Uh, not really," Harry said, thinking quickly. "I just wanted to introduce Ron and Hermione to Mum."

"All right, then," Tobias said, though he looked unconvinced about there not being something wrong. "I’ll see you three tonight at dinner." With that, he turned and strolled on down the corridor.

"Why didn’t you tell him?" Ron asked him, curiously.

"He’s a Muggle, Ron," Harry snorted. "What can he do?"

"Good point," he said, sighing. "So now what?"

"I don’t know," Harry said, as they made their back to Gryffindor Tower. "But I do know this. With Dumbledore and Snape gone, Quirrel will definitely try for the Stone."

"McGonagall didn’t believe us, Harry," Hermione reminded him. "Should we try getting a message to Professor Dumbledore?"

Harry shook his head. "There wouldn’t be enough time," he told her, sighing. "Now that he knows the two people capable of stopping him are gone and now that he knows how to get past Fluffy, Quirrel will act immediately. For all we know, he could be down that trapdoor right this second!"

"We can’t just do nothing, ‘Arry," Ron told him.

"I know," Harry said, "and that means it falls to us to protect the Stone. C’mon." They all turned back toward the entrance to the Tower, only to find their way blocked by one Neville Longbottom.

"Y-You’re goin’ out again," he said, glaring. "Y-You’re goin’ to get Gryffindor into trouble again!"

"Neville, we really don’t have a choice," Harry told him. "I’m sorry we got you into trouble before, but—"

Neville put his fists up. "I-I’ll fight you if I have to," he threatened, hesitantly.

"Neville, I’m really sorry about this…" Hermione took out her wand and pointed it at the timid boy.

"Wait," Harry said, grabbing her arm and then glanced back at their friend. "Neville, come with us."

Neville blinked at him. "W-What?" he asked, wide-eyed.

"Yeah, mate," Ron said, frowning. "What?"

"We know that there is more than one trap down there," Harry reminded him. "We need all the help we can get. Neville, you just wanted to help us last time…that’s why you followed us, wasn’t it?"

Neville nodded. "Then, help now," Harry told him. "This is ten times more important than Norbert. You’ll really be a hero this time, Neville."

"I will?" Neville asked, curiously.

Harry nodded. "Yeah, you will," he said, smiling. "So, you in?"

Neville lowered his arms. "I’m in," he told him.

"Good," Harry said, smiling. "Then, let’s go…" With that, the four of them made their way out of the Tower.

Reaching the stairway on the Third Floor, they found somebody else waiting for them there.

"What are you doing here?" Ron growled, glaring at Draco Malfoy.

"Can it, Weasley," Draco snorted. "I’m here to help. I know your going after the Sorcerer’s Stone."

"How do you—?" Harry asked, narrowing his eyes. "You’ve been eavesdropping again somehow, haven’t you?"

"Remember the amulets Uncle Sev gave us for Christmas?" Draco asked him. He nodded. "He said if we needed him, we could just touch it and he’d hear us. Well, I got to thinking that it might work both ways. Not only would he be able to hear us, but we’d be able to hear each other…so I tested it. It worked. I could hear what you were saying."

"That’s how you knew about Norbert," Harry realized, scowling. "You miserable prat! I oughta kick your arse!"

"As if," Draco snorted. "I want to help, Potter. You’ll need Slytherin cunning to get past those traps."

"He’s right," Harry told the others. "Bravery, Loyalty, and Intelligence aren’t enough—we’ll need his help."

"Ah, ‘Arry…" Ron complained, sourly.

"He’s our cousin, Ron," Harry reminded him. "He isn’t so bad…when he’s not being an arrogant pain in the bum!"

"Watch it, Potter," Draco said, scowling. "Now, are we going or not?"

Harry nodded. "Let’s go," he told him, and then the five of them headed up the stairs to the Third Floor corridor.

Unlocking the door, they found Fluffy sound alseep—a harp was softly playing by the large three-headed dog’s right head.

"You were right, ‘Arry," Ron whispered to him. "Quirrel is going after the Stone right away."

Harry nodded. "Let’s hurry and get down the trapdoor," he told them. "Before Fluffy decides naptime is over."

The others all nodded and they made their way over to the opened door in the floor.

Harry glanced at them. "Who wants to go first?" he asked, hesitantly.

Draco snorted. "This is your party, Potter," he told him, smirking. "Why don’t you do the honors?"

Harry glared at his cousin. "Prat," he muttered, sourly. "Fine, but you all better be right behind me."

With that, he shut his eyes and jumped into the dark hole. He landed in something soft and squishy.

Huh? What was this? Feeling around, it kinda felt..waxy. The only time he’d ever felt anything like this was in Herbology…

Suddenly there four more splats occurred. "Hey?" Ron asked, somewhere to his right. "What the bloody ‘ell is this?"

"I don’t know," Draco said, "but whatever it is—IT’S BLOODY WELL GOT A HOLD OF ME!"

Harry frowned, wondering what on earth the blonde haired Slytherin meant until he felt something wrap around him…and squeeze.

"Ahhh!" he hollered. "It’s go me, too!" Ron, Hermione, and Neville also began screaming as whatever this was tightened its grip.

"Wait!" Neville cried, suddenly. "I know what this is! It’s Devil’s Snare! It’s a magical plant!"

"Thanks so much for the Herbology lesson, Longbottom!" Draco snarled, "but how the bloody hell do we get out of it!"

"You have to relax," Neville told them, his voice sounding much calmer now. "The harder you fight, the tighter it will grip you.

He stopped moving and suddenly he disappeared, sucked beneath the plant.

"Neville!" Harry and Hermione exclaimed at the same time.

They were side by side and they glanced at each other, now that their eyes had adjusted to the darkness around them.

As one, they stopped struggling and allowed themselves to be pulled under.

They landed beside Neville, underneath the Devil’s Snare. Above them, they could both Ron and Draco screaming—and neither one sounded remotely calm.

"They’re not going to quit struggling, are they?" Neville asked, biting his lip.

"No," Harry and Hermione answered him at the same time. "What do you remember about this plant?"

"Well, it hates fire," Neville told them, "but I don’t think that would be such a good idea…unless…wait! It also hates sunlight!"

Pulling out his wand, he aimed it upward and shouted, "Lumos Solarus!" A blast of golden light flare from his wand, striking the magical plant and causing it to wither and die.

Ron and Draco suddenly dropped down beside them. Harry helped Draco to his feet while Neville helped Ron.

"Good thing we didn’t panic," Ron said, trying hard not to blush in embarrassment.

"You said it," Draco said, clearing his throat uncomfortably.

Harry glared at both of them. "Good thing Neville is good in Herbology," he told them, snorting. "Now, come on."

They made their way to the next room, where they found their old friend the mountain troll—unconscious and laying face up on the floor.

"Must be Quirrel’s trap," Harry snorted. "Knew he was the one who let it in the castle…"

They moved past the unconscious troll and into the next chamber. This room had many, many flying birds in it.

"Birds?" Harry frowned. "I don’t get it…what kind of trap is this?"

"What’s with the brooms, too?" Ron asked, nodding toward where three broomstick lay.

Hermione grossed over to the door, finding it locked. After trying to unlock it with magic, she squinted up at the birds.

Her eyes widened in recognition. "Those aren’t birds!" she exclaimed, suddenly. "They’re winged keys! I bet we have to find the key that matches the keyhole on the door!"

"How are we gonna do that?" Neville asked, curiously. "T-They’re moving so fast!"

"Leave that to me," Hermione told him, taking out her wand. "Immobilus!"

Instantly, all the flying keys froze in mid-air—suspended by the freezing charm the mousy haired witch had cast.

"Nice one, Hermione," Harry told her, smiling. "Now, which can is it?"

Hermione examined the door, closely.

"We’re looking for a skeleton-type," she told them, and the peered up at the still-floating keys. "There! That one way up there! That’s the one, I’m sure of it!"

"Well," Draco said, smirking at Ron. "I guess we know what the brooms are for, now don’t we?"

Ron gave him a very rude finger gesture, which he responded in kind.

Harry snorted. "You two fight like brothers, instead of cousins," he told them, shaking his head. "I’ll go get it."

Hoping onto a broom, he kicked off the ground and retrieved the key—which had a broken wing…obviously, Quirrel had already had a hold of it.

Delivering it to Hermione, the young witch then unlocked the door and they were able to advance into the fourth chamber.

This room was dark, at first, but then torches appeared and they found themselves standing on a very large chess board with very large chess pieces surrounding them.

"Wicked," Ron said, smiling. "This must be McGonagall’s trap—she’d have to be the one to Transfigure these pieces. I bet you anything we have to play our way across the room."

"Uh, Ron," Harry said, hesitantly. "Do you suppose this is exactly like wizard’s chess?"

A white pawn moved forward then. Ron smirked, and then ordered a black pawn to move to the square diagonal from it.

The white pawn jumped up and impaled the black pawn with a pair of swords and tossing it off the board.

The five kids all gulped.

"Yep, ‘Arry," Ron said, swallowing. "I think this is exactly like wizard’s chess. Okay…hmm…Hermione and Neville, you two take over the two castle positions. Harry, you and Malfoy take the bishops spots. I’ll take the Queen side Knight."

They all nodded and moved into position. Another white piece moved, and then Ron began to issue orders to the pieces and to them.

They played for what seemed forever, but was probably only fifteen minutes, watching piece after piece get smashed and wiped away.

Finally, there were only a few moves left. "Okay," Ron said, swallowing. "I know what I have to do."

"What’s that?" Hermione asked him. She and Neville were still upon the castle squares, as they weren’t really needed.

"I have to move to put the king in check," Ron told her.

"NO!" Harry cried, realizing. "Ron, you can’t! The Queen will take you!"

"I know," Ron told him, "but once that happens, you can move to put the king in Check Mate. It’s the only way, ‘Arry!"

"He’s right," Draco told him, firmly. "Don’t let sentimentality cloud your judgment."

"He’s not your friend!" Harry growled at him, angrily.

"But he is yours," Draco reminded him. "He’s doing this for you, Potter. Don’t you see that? You’re the one that has to face Quirrel. Not Weasley, not Granger, not Longbottom, and certainly not me. It’s you."

"He’s right, ‘Arry," Ron said. "I’ll be all right—I think." With that, he gave the order. The knight he was mounted on moved to put the white king in ‘Check’.

The white Queen moved ominously across the board, raising her battle lance and bringing it down with an almight force—shattering Ron’s knight and causing him to crash to the floor, unconscious.

"Ron!" Hermione hollarered, taking a step forward.

"No!" Harry yelled at her. "Don’t—we’re still playing, remember?" With that, he moved along the black squares, diagonally, to where the white king was cornered.

"Check and Mate," he declared to it, causing it to drop the sword it was holding in acceptance of their victory.

As one, they all rushed over to where Ron lay. "I think he’s just winded," Hermione said, quietly.

"You and Neville stay here with him," Harry told her, smiling. "Draco and I will go on."

"Be careful, Harry," Hermione said, blinking back tears. "Please."

"I will be," Harry promised her.

"You’re a great wizard, Harry," she told him, gently. "Don’t forget that."

"I’m not as good as you," he told her, smirking.

She shrugged. "Books and cleverness," she said, shaking her head. "There are more important things—like friendship…and love."

With that, she wrapped her arms around him and gave him a peck on the cheek. "For luck," she told him, blushing.

Draco snorted. "C’mon, Romeo," he said, tugging on his arm. "Let’s go."

Harry nodded, and together the two of them headed through the next doorway.

The moment they were threw purple flames erupted in it, blocking their way back.

Unfortunately, black flames blocked their way forward, as well. On a table were several sized vials of various potions.

"This must be Dad’s trap," Harry said, knowingly.

"It is," Draco said, picking up a small card. "Look at this."

Harry did so, frowning at the riddle written upon it. "What do you think it means?" he asked his cousin, curiously.

"That my uncle is brilliant," Draco told him, chuckling. "This isn’t magic—it’s logic! Only a true Slytherin could set a trap like this."

"Well, you’re the only other true Slytherin here," Harry told him, "so what does the riddle mean."

"It’s telling us which potion to take to get through each set of doorways," he told him. "One gets us through the purple flames and the other the black ones. Now, shut up and let me think…"

Harry wanted to retort something scathing back at him, but sighed. He’s helping, he reminded himself, you can kick his arse after its all over…

"I’ve got it," Draco said, after a few moments. "This one will get us back to the others…and this one will get you through the black flames."

"Why only me?" Harry asked, picking up the vial he had pointed to. "Oh…" There was only enough potion in there for one person.

"I told you," Draco told him, seriously. "You’re the one that has to go on. Just be sure and give Quirrel a good kick in the bollocks for me, okay?"

Harry laughed at that. "Thanks, Draco," he told him, clasping him on the shoulder. "You might be a slimy Snake, but you’re still all right."

"Gee, Harry, thanks a lot," Draco snorted. "You really need to work on your compliments."

Harry laughed. "Just go on, you prat," he told him, giving him a shove toward the purple flames. "Get the others, have Neville and Hermione take Ron to the hospital wing and you head to the owlry—get a message to either Dad or Grandpa Alby. Okay?"

Draco nodded. "You be careful," he warned him. "Don’t forget what happened that night in the Forbidden Forest…"

Harry nodded. "I won’t," he told him, assuredly. "Now, go."

Draco nodded, gulped down the potion—of course, it tasted bloody awful—and then rushed through the purple flames.

Harry swallowed, glancing toward the black flames. "I hope you’re about this, cousin," he said to himself, but then gulped down the single drop of potion. It was like fire going down his throat.

Taking a deep breath, he rushed forward—through the flames—and into a large open chamber.

In the center of this chamber was the final trap—the Mirror of Erised—and standing in front of it was none other than Professor Quirrel.

"I knew it was you," Harry growled, frowning fiercely.

Quirrel turned around, an evil smirk on his face.

"So did Snape, apparently," he told him, grinning. "I guess p-poor s-s-stuttering Professor Quirrel didn’t fool everyone, eh?"

"Everybody but Snape," Harry said, smirking. "Couldn’t fool him, could you?"

"Like it matters," Quirrel sneered. "He’s gone—on some mission for that doddering old fool they consider to be the greatest wizard of our age…Ha!"

"Albus Dumbledore is the greatest wizard of our age!" Harry defended his great-grandfather vehemently.

"And yet, where is he now?" Quirrel sneered, smirking wickedly. "And who does he send in his place? A child!" He let out a cruel, mocking laugh.

"You’re never gonna get the stone," Harry declared. "I won’t let you!"

Quirrel glared. "You won’t—" he growled, his eyes narrowing into tiny slits. "Come here, you brat!"

With a wild gesture, Harry found himself flung off his feet, flying in mid-air, toward the outstretched hand of the deranged professor.

Quirrel grabbed him by the collar, dangling his feet above the floor, and brought him with in inches of his face.

"Ahhh!" Harry cried out, as his scar blazed with fire—the pain was even more intense then it had been that night in the Forbidden Forest.

"There is no Severus here to save you this time, Potter," the dark wizard growled, menacingly. "This time—you will die!"

"Let…me…go!" Harry yelled, reaching out and pushing the man’s face away from him.

Suddenly, Quirrel’s face began to smoke and burn. He cried out, dropping Harry at his feet.

Where Harry’s hands had touched him, were two distinctive red marks. Harry glanced at his hands in bewilderment.

"I’ll kill you, you damn brat!" the man roared.

"But, Master—" Quirrel protested, weakly.

"He can get the stone," the voice hissed again. "Use him, you fool! NOW!"

Quirrel glared down at him. "Come here, boy," h growled, grabbing him by the collar again.

Lifting him off his feet, he was placed in front of the mirror. "What do you see, Potter?" Quirrel growled at him. "Tell me!"

Harry saw himself in the mirror, but this time there was no one else. He watched as his reflection winked at him, reached into his pocket to reveal a small red-colored rock, and then put it back in his pocket.

Harry felt something fall into his pocket, and put his hand in there—matching his reflection in the mirror perfectly.

He felt something hard and rough in his pocket, but did not let anything show on his face.

"Well!?" Quirrel roared at him.

"Uh, I, uh, I see myself winning the house cup," he told him, smiling. "And the Quidditch cup! And I’m—"

"Useless!" Quirrel roared. "Absolutely useless!" He grabbed him by the collar again and tossed him back toward the exit of the chamber.

Harry landed hard, but quickly collected himself and stood up. Quirrel turned back to the mirror, so now if he could just manage to back out of the room…

Unfortunately, his scar flared painfully again—causing his knees to buckle and he fell forward onto them.

Quirrel spun around. "POTTER!" he roared, glinding through the air to land right in front of him. "GIVE ME THAT STONE, YOU MISERABLE BRAT!"

He picked Harry up again, shaking him. "Never!" Harry yelled, reaching out and grabbing his face again. Again, it began to smoke and burn and the man was forced to drop him.

Instead of making a run for it, however, Harry lunged forward and grabbed a hold of the man’s wrists!

Quirrel screamed, his flesh beginning to burn all over, but Harry refused to let go. "Master!" Quirrel screamed. "Help me!"

But it was too late, his entire body was nothing but ash now and he crumpled to the floor, his robes and turban all that remained.

Harry stumbled back, wide-eyed at what he’d done. Suddenly, though, his scar flared painfully again and he once more found himself down on his knees.

From the remains of Quirrel’s robes rose a dark shadowy specter—with a face and eyes like a snake.

"Voldermort," Harry realized, suddenly.

"Harry Potter," the same hissing voice he’d heard before came from the specter. "Look at what you have done to me—a disembodied spirit forced to live off another—I am nothing more than a parasite now!"

"Serves you right, you monster!" Harry yelled, angrily.

The specter roared, and suddenly was moving toward him…

A pair of identical beams of silver light shot past Harry, hitting the Dark Entity squarely and caused it to vanish and evaporate.

Harry stared at where he’d been a moment, but then turned to see who cast those two charms. He smiled.

"MUM! DAD!"

HPHPHPHP

Severus lay with one arm tucked behind his head while the other was wrapped around Lily’s bare shoulder; her head resting upon his bare chest.

This was not at all what he had intended to happen…at least this afternoon, anyway.

Tonight, perhaps…

But Lily had been hungry as they arrived from St. Mungos and so they had stopped in at the Three Broomsticks for a quick bite to eat before going shopping.

Unfortunately, or not, they had not made it to Gladrags yet.

While they were there, after they had finished eating, Lily had suggested they go ahead and reserve their room for tonight—that way they would not have to worry about it later.

He had agreed and went to speak to Rosmerta—the proprietress and a former classmate of theirs—who showed them to her best room.

She had then left them alone to ‘inspect’ for themselves. She had a knowing smile on her lips as she left, he remembered…

Glancing down at the red head resting upon his bare chest, he couldn’t help but chuckle.

Lily glanced at him, curiously. "What’s so funny?"

"Oh nothing, love," he told her, stroking her hair gently. "Nothing at all…"

She smiled at him. "Oh, Sev," she said, laying her head back down. "It’s nice to see you haven’t lost your…touch."

He snorted at that, though a faint smug smile tugged at his lips.

"I wouldn’t be too sure about that," he told her. "I haven’t been with a woman like this for…a very long time. Since that night, actually…"

She looked at him, startled. "Since the night of the battle?" she asked, wide-eyed. "No one? At all?"

He shook his head. "You are and will always be the only woman for me," he told her. "No other woman has caught my eye…not in ten years time."

"Oh, Sev," Lily said, sadly. "You must have been so lonely…"

"I grew…accustomed…to it," he told her, gently. "I had my memories of you to keep me warm on long winter nights. They were enough."

"Were they?" she asked him, shrewdly.

"Well," he told her, blushing fiercely, "that and the fact I had my right hand…"

Lily chuckled at that.

"Oh, Sev!" she said, laughing. "You never cease to amaze me. You can face the darkest of Dark Wizards without even blinking, but you blush at the mere mention of anything to do with…sex."

"Well, really, Lily," Severus told her, laughing. "We can’t all be as…brazen…as some."

Lily smirked. "Brazen, am I?" she asked him, smirking wickedly. "Hmm…how’s this, then?"

She kissed him then—a searing, passionate kiss that once again ‘awoke’ the fire they had begun a mere hour before.

Rolling on top of her, he quickly went about the task of showing her he had indeed not lost his…touch…as she put it.

As they made love, memories filled his mind—of times past—and he smiled with unbridled desire and ecstasy.

Once they were both sated, again more laying quietly in each others arms, Severus couldn’t help but be curious about something.

"Um…Lily?" he asked, hesitantly.

"Yes, love?" she asked, glancing at him.

Severus licked his lips, nervously. "How…how am I?" he asked, hesitantly. "Compared to…Potter?" He was blushing furiously now.

Lily blinked at him. "What do you mean?" she asked him, frowning.

"Lily," Severus said, blushing even more. "You aren’t going to make me come out and say it…are you?"

Lily continued to stare at him, but then burst out laughing.

"Oh, Severus!" she said, her laughter echoing around the room—which, thankfully, had silencing charms laid into the walls for privacy.

"What is so damn funny?" he growled at her, his ego a bit bruised now.

"You are, you goose!" she told him, smiling. "It questions like that…that remind me you’re a man!"

"Well, I would certainly hope so," he told her, injured. He sniffed, slightly insulted.

"Oh, love, no," she told him, quickly, "that isn’t what I meant at all. It’s just, even as a child, you were so serious and reserved. All the other boys in our year, even those shy ones like Frank Longbottom, could be boisterous and loud and overly macho at time. There were only a handful of times, that you displayed those traits...like letting your temper get the best of you and the like…"

"Yes," Severus said, quietly. "I remember."

"And just now, when you asked me to compare your ‘performance’ to that of James," she told him, smirking. "I could very well see someone like James or Sirius or Lucius Malfoy as being concerned with something like that…but not you. It was just so…so typically a male kind of question, that’s all."

"So basically, I don’t typically display the stereotypical male attributes of being loud and 'macho'. Is that it?" he asked her, curiously.

She nodded. "Yes, exactly, but its times like right now," she told him, "that remind me you are indeed very much a…a..."

"A man," he told her, grinning. "You were very…happy…about that fact a few minutes ago, love."

Lily smiled at that. "Oh, believe me, I was," she told him, smirking seductively. "And still am…"

"But you still haven’t answered my question," he told her, gently. "How do I compare to…my cousin?"

He had very rarely allowed him to think—much less speak—of his blood connection to James Potter, but in this instance he could actually own up to it without feeling any residual negativity.

"I don’t know," Lily told him, quietly.

Severus blinked up at her. "What do you mean?" he asked, frowning. "You were legally married to him. Weren’t you?"

"Yes," she told him, smiling, "we were, but…we never…that is, we didn’t…"

She paused, trying to think of the appropriate way of putting it.

She sighed. "James knew my heart belonged only to you," she told him. "He would never have forced to me to…betray you…as it were. We may have been legally married, Sev, but it was a marriage on paper only. We never consummated it. I couldn’t and James…wouldn’t. He was too much of a gentleman for that. Everyone already believed we had, anyway, because of Harry…so, there simply was no need."

"So, never?" he asked her, wide-eyed. "Not even once. I mean, I was declared legally dead, after all…"

"I never believed it," Lily told him, "and even if it had been true…I couldn’t. You said yourself, Sev, you’ve never been with another woman…not in the last eleven years. How could I be any different?"

"I see," Severus said, still rather stunned by this news. "So…I have been the only man you’ve ever been with?"

She nodded. "And the only one I ever want to be with," she told him, smirking. "I love you, Severus Tobias Snape, and don’t you ever forget it."

"I won’t," he promised, smiling. "I love you, too." He leaned back down, one arm going behind his head again as her head once more rested on his chest.

Right at that moment, however, the medallion around his neck began to grow warm. He frowned, and sat.

Lily glanced at him, confused. "What is it, love?" she asked him, concerned.

"Something is wrong," he told her. "With Harry…"

Her emerald green eyes widened. "What do you mean?" she asked him, fearfully.

"I don’t know," he told her, truthfully. "Just that he and Draco are very distressed!"

They glanced at each other, their eyes, meeting for a moment and then both sprang up from the bed.

Getting dressed, he in his dress shirt and trousers and Lily in the green dress robe Tobias had given her for Christmas, the rushed from the room.

Racing up the castle, they entered and raced up the stairs. They were met by Minerva McGonagall, Filius Flitwick, and Pomona Sprout.

"Ah, Severus, there you are!" Minerva exclaimed, upon seeing him.

"Where is Potter, Minerva?" he growled at her, urgently.

"Harry?" the Head of Gryffindor blinked at him. "I sent him, Ronald Weasley, and Miss Granger up to our common room. They somehow knew about the Stone, Severus! They came racing into my office, telling this wild tale about somebody trying to steal it and—"

Her eyes widened as she finally glanced to his right, seeing who was standing beside him.

"No," she gasped, wide-eyed. "It…It can’t be!" Filius and Pomona also were looking bewildered.

"Hello, Minerva, Filius, Pomona," Lily smiled at them. "Yes, it really is me."

"There isn’t any time, love," Severus told her, and then glanced at his collegues. "Where’s Albus!?"

"He…He…He left this morning, Severus," Minerva told him, her eyes twitching back and forth between them violently. "Fudge called a special session of the—"

Severus grabbed Lily’s hand and raced brushed past them. "Damn and double damn!" he growled.

"What is it, Sev?" Lily asked, worriedly.

"Quirrel!" he growled. "With both Dumbledore and me out of the castle I have no doubt he’s trying to get the Sorcerer’s Stone!"

"What does Harry have to do with this?" Lily asked him, puzzled.

"Somehow that foolish son of ours must have found out about the Stone," he growled at her. "That boy has a hero-complex a kilometer and a half long! If me and Albus were both gone, and Minerva brushed them aside as she apparently did, that boy and his friends no doubt decided to take matters into their own hands!"

Lily gasped. "You don’t mean they’d try and stop Quirrel!" she exclaimed. "They’re only eleven years old, Severus!"

"Precisely," Severus growled. "Just wait til I get my hands on them!"

They continued racing through the halls and corridors ‘til they came to the third floor. Entering, they were met by a very angry Cerberus ‘puppy’.

"Not this time, mutt!" Severus growled angrily. "Stupify maximus!"

Three beams of blinding light shot out of his wand, striking all three heads simultaneously, rendering the beast unconscious.

"I don’t think Hagrid will be too happy with you," Lily observed, wryly.

"He can put his boot up my ass later," Severus told her, snorting. "C’mon!" With that, he dropped down the trap door and she followed. They landed on the now withered Devil’s Snare, raced through the flying key chamber, and the still unconscious troll.

Entering Minerva’s trap, a Transfigured chess room, they found four children waiting there.

Miss Granger and the still-dazed Mr. Weasley weren’t that surprising, they’d have gladly followed along with whatever plan Harry had devised, but Mr. Longbottom certainly was; as was…

"Draco!" Severus growled, upon seeing the blonde haired boy.

"Uncle Sev," Draco squeaked, wide-eyed. "Uh…this isn’t what it looks like, I swear!"

"Oh, Professor!" Hermione said, grabbing ahold of him. "You have to hurry! Harry is in trouble, we think!"

Severus snorted. "You all are in trouble, Miss Granger," he growled at her, menacingly. "You lot stay put—do not move from that spot—‘til we return with Harry. Is that clear?"

They all nodded, well except for Weasley of course, and he nodded in return. "Come, love," he told Lily. "Let’s go rescue our impudent brat of a son!"

Lily nodded and she followed him through the chamber with the flames, where he merely cast a charm that removed them from their path.

He had created them, after all.

Racing into the final chamber just as Harry had grabbed ahold of Quirrel, they watched in stunned amazement as the man dissolved into nothing but ash before their eyes.

As Harry back away from the man’s remains, and the Dark Specter that had once been the Dark Lord rose from them, he and Lily as one raised their wands.

"EXPECTO PATRONUM!" they both shouted at the same time, refusing to allow the dark entity to harm their child.

Their duel patronus leapt from their wands, straight at the Dark Lord’s specter, and vanished him.

"Miserable bastard," Severus growled, shaking his head.

Harry has spun around, smiling at the sight of them. "Mum! Dad!" he yelled, racing towards them. He leapt, and they both caught him and pulled him into a duel embrace.

Severus enjoyed the moment, having his love and their son so close, but then sat the boy back down.

He glared at him. "What the bloody hell did you think you were doing?" he growled at him, angrily.

"Somebody had to save the ruddy Stone," Harry told him, reaching into his pocket. "And I did. See?" He pulled out the Sorcerer’s Stone.

Severus snatched the stone from the boy’s grasp. "What I see is a little boy in very big trouble," he told him, sternly.

"Sev, calm down a moment," Lily told him, gently. "Let’s make sure he’s all right before you start doling out any kind of punishment."

"I’m fine, Mum," Harry told her. "Honest."

Lily knelt down beside him. "I’ll be the judge of that, Mister, thank you very much," she told him, firmly. "Now, please, hold still."

Severus watched in amusement as Lily fused over their boy—and their boy sighed, as only a little boy could while being coddled and babied by his mother.

"Will he live?" he asked her, wryly, as she stood back up.

"Yes, it would seem so," Lily told him, smirking.

"Excellent," Severus said, handing her the Stone.

He then turned Harry around and delivered three sharp smacks to his behind.

"Ow! Dad!" Harry gasped, rubbing. "Ah, c’mon!"

"The only place I’ll ‘c’mon’ to is the infirmary, young man, and so will you," Severus growled at him. "Let’s go."

Grasping his shoulder gently yet firmly, he ushered the boy from the chamber with Lily following right beside him.

Upon reentering the chess room, they found the other children had not so much as moved.

"Oh, Harry, you’re all right," Hermione Granger rushed forward, throwing her arms around his son. "I’m so glad, I coud…I could…"

And with that, she promptly kissed him soundly on the lips.

"Miss Granger!" Severus stated, doing everything he could to keep the smile off his face. "Due control yourself, young lady!"

Lily, he noticed, was smiling openly at the sight.

Hermione released Harry, who was staring at her wide-eyed. "Hermione!" he gasped, blushing all the way to his toes.

"Bloody ‘ell," Ron groaned, blinking at that. "I must’a hit me head harder than I thought…"

"How are you feeling, Mr. Weasley?" Severus asked, kneeling down beside him.

"Me head hurts a bit," Ron told him, "and I feel kind like I want to sick up…"

"You took quite a fall from the looks of it," Severus said, putting one arm underneath the boy’s legs and one on his back and lifting him up. "Let’s get you to the Infirmary."

"But, Sir," Ron squeaked, blushing. "I can walk!" His face was as red as his hair.

"You may have a concussion, Ronald," Severus told him, sternly. "Now, due be quiet and relax!"

"How are we gonna get out of here?" Harry asked him, curiously. "The trapdoor…"

"Is not the only way out of here," Severus told them, as they reached the spot with the Devil’s Snare.

He pointed his wand at a spot in the wall and incanted, "Asperio!"

A doorway appeared and motioned for the children and Lily to step through. They did so and he followed, finding themselves in the entrance hall.

"Wicked!" Harry said, smiling.

"I’m glad you are impressed," Severus snorted. "Now, come."

Once again, they were met by people on the stairs. This time not only three other Heads of Houses but also Albus and Tobias, as well.

"It seems I have returned too late," the Headmaster said, sighing.

"Indeed," Severus snorted. "We were on our way to the Infirmary to get these hooligans checked out. I’m sure they will have a most…detailing…tale to tell."

He gave the children a pointed look, causing them all to look guilty. He nodded and then continued on his way with everyone else following.

Arriving in the infirmary, he sat Ron down and allowed Madame Pomfrey to exam him and the other children.

"Other than a rather large bump on the head," the mediwitch told them, "and multiple scraps and bruises they are all fine—all things considered."

"Yes, indeed," Severus said, eyeing the children sternly. "Now, perhaps, you’d care to explain yourselves."

"We had too, Dad!" Harry piped up. "You and Grandpa Alby were gone! I knew Quirrel was going after the Stone!"

"We did try and tell Professor McGonagall," Hermione piped up, "but she did not believe us."

"It was not that I did not believe you, child," Minerva told her, gently. "It was simply none of your business!"

"That is correct," Severus said, glaring.

"He was going to get the Stone!" Harry exclaimed again.

"No, Harry, he was not," Dumbldore told him, gently. "The Mirror would not have let him have it."

"I-It wouldn’t, but then…" Harry frowned. "Why did it let me?"

"Because," the Headmaster told him, "you wanted the Stone—but you did not wish to use it. Only someone with noble intentions was allowed to retrieve it. One of my better ideas, I think."

"So, you see," Severus told them. "You lot rushing off into imperiled danger was absolutely unnecessary!"

The children all winced as his voice rose several octaves at this.

"A-Are you going to have us expelled?" Hermione asked him, a lone tear trekking down her cheek.

z88;

"Don’t be foolish, girl," Severus snapped, shaking his head. "Though I am half tempted to turn you all across my knee!"

"Dad," Harry said, "don’t punish them. It was my idea…"

"Shut up, you prat," Draco growled. "You didn’t twist my arm or anything. I went willingly."

"Yeah, mate," Ron piped up from the bed. "Beatin’ that nasty git Quirrel is worth a wallopin’…I, uh, think." He glanced at Severus hesitantly.

Severus snorted. "You’d change your tune very quickly, Mr. Weasley," he told him, seriously. "Lucky for you, I am in a very forgiving mood at the moment."

"Y-Y-You are?!" Neville piped up, wide-eyed.

"Yes, Mr. Longbottom," Severus told him, "I am. I am also relieved you are all unharmed."

"As are we all," Dumbledore spoke. "Now, though, perhaps you all would care to explain how it is you came to know of the Stone and that it was Professor Quirrel trying to gain access to it."

Harry sighed. "I guess it started on my birthday, " he told them. "when Hagrid took me to Gringotts to get money out of my vault to buy my school supplies…"

They all listened as he recounted finding out about the robbery, stumbling upon Fluffy, Hagrid letting it slip about ‘Nicholas Flamel’, and then overhearing him and Quirrel in the corridor.

"After I knew it was Quirrel trying to kill me," Harry said, "I knew it had to be him doing all the other stuff, too. When I found out both of you were gone today, I just knew this was when he was going to try for it. And when Professor McGonagall wouldn’t listen to us…"

"I listened, young man," Minerva informed him, frostily. "I told you…"

"We know, Minerva," Severus said, rolling his eyes. "Let it go, woman!"

She pinned him with a look that reminded him of when he was twelve. "You are not too old to spank, Severus," she growled at him, crossing his arms over her chest.

Severus blushed at that, glaring at the children for snickering. "You lot certainly aren’t," he reminded them, sternly.

"Now, Minnie," Dumbledore spoke, patting the Transfiguration teacher on the cheek. "You’ve had quite a shock today. Why don’t we adult go to my office for some tea and scones. The children, I am sure, are tired from their adventure. We can leave them here in Madame Pomfrey’s capable hands for a bit of a lie down, yes?"

"Grandpa Alby!" Harry protested, indignantly. "We’re not babies. We don’t need a nap!"

"You will do as your grandfather says, young man," Severus growled at him. "Now, get into that bed this instant."

Harry glared at him. He glared back, raising an eyebrow ever so slight. Harry sighed, and then got into bed beside Ron.

The other children all did the same and before long they were all sleeping peacefully.

"Come, love," Severus said to Lily. "Let’s leave them to Pomfrey for a little while."

Lily nodded and followed him out of the infirmary to up to Albus’ office.

Severus reached over and took her hand, which she gently squeezed.

He smiled. . "I don’t know about you," he whispered to her, "but I could go for a nap myself."

She smiled back. "Napping isn’t what I had in mind," she whispered back at him, grinning wickedly.

Severus blushed all the way down toes, as they continued on up the Headmaster’s office.

SSSSSSSS

Lily sat in Severus’ quarters, in his favorite armchair, waiting.

He came in a moment later, smiling.

"Are they all safely tucked into bed?" she asked him, curiously.

"Yes, our son included," he told her, coming over and smiling at her. "It’s been quite a day, hasn’t it?"

"Yes, it has," she told him, gently.

"Lily," he told her, kneeling down in front of her. "There’s something I was planning to ask you tonight—while we laid in bed at the Three Broomsticks—but now’s as a good a time as any, I suppose…"

"What is it, Sev?" she asked him, curiously.

From his pocket, he pulled out a velvet box and opened it. The ring inside was set in gold with an emerald and rubies.

"Oh, Sev," she told him, smiling. "It’s beautiful!"

"I’m glad you like it," Severus told her. "Would you do something for me, then?"

"What?" she asked him, curiously.

He smiled up at her. "Will you consent to be my wife…again?" he asked her, hopefully.

Tears welled in her eyes, but she nodded. "Of course I will," she told him, smiling brightly as he removed the ring from its box and placed it on her finger.

Standing up, he pulled her to him and kissed her soundly.

"Hmm, Sev," she said, purring against his lips. "How about we celebrate?"

He smirked at her. "Have something in mind, love?" he asked, curiously.

Her eyes twinkling she nodded. "I can think of a few things," she told him, as he led her towards his bedroom.

"You know," he told her, wryly. "So can I…"

Her laughter joined with his, as they entered the bedroom.

It was, she thought, the perfect end to the perfect day.

Harry sighed with frustration, as he tried for the fifth time to tie his tie without success.

It was the last day of school, and the end of the year feast was going to be starting soon.

In a strange twist, however, Professor Dumbledore had decided to make it a ‘parents weekend’ and for the first time in the history of Hogwarts everyone’s parents were attending the feast with their children.

Sighing again, he turned and headed out of his father’s guest room—where he’d stayed the last two nights.

His trunk had already been packed and was already here, where they’d take it tomorrow when they left.

He wouldn’t be getting on the Hogwarts Express with the others, as his parents were already here.

Apparently, his father had a cottage-type house on an island just off the coast of Scotland.

It was there, his father had told him, that they would spend the summer.

His father’s bedroom door was open, which meant the Potions Master wasn’t inside, so he tried the bathroom.

The light was on, and he heard the sound of running water, and the door was slightly ajar.

Harry knocked and called out, "Dad?"

"Yes, Harry," his father called from within. "You can come in."

Pushing the door open, Harry stepped into the slightly steamy washroom.

His father stood at the sink, obviously having just completed the acts of showering and saving as he had a large black towel wrapped around his waist, his hair was damp, and he was applying aftershave to his face.

Harry blushed fiercely, not expecting to find his father practically naked.

"Um, sorry," he said, hesitantly. "I didn’t mean to interrupt…"

"You didn’t," his father told him, turning around to lean against the sink. "I wouldn’t have allowed you to enter if I wasn’t finished. Did you need something?"

"Uh, yeah," Harry said, biting his lip. "Can you…maybe…show me how to tie my tie?"

His father looked puzzled. "How have you tied it all year long?" he asked him, curiously.

Harry blushed some more. "Um, well, Hermione kinda used a charm she knew to tie it for me the night before," he admitted, hesitantly. "All I had to do was just put it on and tighten it."

"I take it you didn’t bother learning the charm?" his father asked, smirking.

"No," Harry said, sighing. "I should have, I know…"

"It’s all right," the Potions Master told him, beckoning him to come over to him. "You should learn to tie it yourself without magic, any way."

Harry came to stand in front of the tall dark haired Slytherin. "I’ve tried five times to tie it," he told him, "but I just can’t seem to get the hang of it."

"Well, unless you have the knack for it," his father told him, taking up the two ends of the tie, "it is a bit tricky to master."

"Did you have trouble with it?" Harry asked him, curiously.

"Oh, yes, quite a bit," his father chuckled. "Da had to show me three different times before I got it right and even then it usually came out crooked!"

Harry laughed at that. "How’d you eventually learn to do it?" he asked him.

"Practice, and lots of it," the Potions Master told him. "It’s really simple if you think of it like this: wrap around twice, up and over, down the snake hole, and pull tight. There, you’re done!"

Harry smiled, staring down at his now perfectly tied tie.

"Wicked!" he said, and then glanced up. "But…’down the snake hole’…?" He snickered.

His father chuckled. "You could always say ‘into the lion’s den’, if you prefer," he told him, wryly.

"Nah," Harry said, smiling. "I kinda like ‘snake hole’ better."

"I always did, too," the Head of Slytherin House told him, reaching out to ruffle his hair.

"So, where’s Mum?" Harry asked him, curiously.

"She’s upstairs with Minerva getting ready," his father told him.

"It’s just the end of the year feast," Harry told him, simply. "She doesn’t have to be all fancy or anything…"

"When it comes to women, son," the Potions Master told him, "it does not matter. Remember that."

Harry laughed. "I will," he told him. "I guess you can’t sit with me at the feast, huh?"

"I am Head of Slytherin House, Harry," the man reminded him, gently, "and a professor to boot."

"And so is Grandpa Toby and Grandpa Alby is the Headmaster!" Harry sighed. "Why’d you all have to go and be teachers?!"

"Come now, it won’t be that bad," his father told him, smirking. "You’ll see."

"Mum is coming, though?" Harry asked, biting his lip. "Right?"

His father nodded. "Yes, she and I shall arrive at the feast together," he told him. "Now, you’d best go on and don’t forget your cap."

Harry wrinkled his nose. He hated the black conical caps they were required to wear at the beginning and ending feasts.

"Yes, Sir," he said. "Thanks for showing me how to tie my tie!" He wrapped his arms around the man’s waist and squeezed, gently.

His father returned the hug, albeit awkwardly since he was only wearing a towel, and then turned him about

"Away with you, Fledgling," he told him, giving his bottom a light tap. "Leave a man to get dressed in peace. I can’t very well show up in nothing but this towel!"

"Why not?" Harry smirked, cheekily. "I’m sure all the girls would love—hey! Ouch!"

He winced, as the ‘tap’ he received for that was just a bit harder than the last one.

"That is what you get for being a cheeky brat," his father told him, wryly. "Now go on. Your mother and I will see you soon."

Harry smiled, but nodded.

He quickly scampered out of the bathroom, retrieved his black cap, and then headed upstairs to join his classmates in Gryffindor Tower.

Each House had to arrive at the feast together, just as they had to leave the beginning of the year feast all together.

Entering the Great Hall, the students all found their parents waiting for them…most of them, any way.

"I thought your mum was coming, ‘Arry," Ron whisper across from him, as he sat in-between Percy and his sister, Ginny.

For this once, all the Weasleys sat side by side with their mother and father in-between the lot of them.

Hermione, who was sitting in-between her parents, glanced up at the Head table.

"Professor Snape is the only professor missing," she observed, casually.

"He said they’d be here," Harry told them, gently. "They will."

Glancing over at the Slytherin table he caught sight of Draco sitting with a tall woman with long pale blonde hair and wearing a very elegant robe of ice-blue.

Professor Dumbledore stood up then, intending to make his usual speech before the start of the feast.

"Welcome one and all," he began. "I am wonderfully glad that so many of our parents could attend our first ever ‘End of the Year Family Weekend’ and it has been such a success that I believe we shall make it an annual event, perhaps even include a Mid-Term Family Weekend, as well, come Christmas of next year. At any rate, welcome and I trust you have all enjoyed yourselves. Before we begin the feast, however, there are a few last minute things to take care of. Would Harry Potter, Hermione Granger, Ronald Weasley, Neville Longbottom, and Draco Malfoy please stand?"

Harry and the others all stared at each other. What was the old man up to?

"Go on, dears," Molly Weasley said, "do as the Headmaster says…"

"You too, Neville," Mrs. Augusta Longbottom told her grandson.

At the Slytherin table, they saw Narcissa whisper something to her son.

As one, the five children all stood there feet and stared up at the Headmaster waiting.

"These five students, as many of you have no doubt heard, had quite the adventure last week," the Headmaster smiled. "Because of that, I believe some last minute points need to be awarded…"

Everyone gasped at this. It was assumed that since Slytherin had the most points that they would win the House Cup.

Apparently, Dumbledore had other ideas.

"For using stunning Intelligence in the face of overwhelming danger, I award Miss Granger fifty points to Gryffindor," the Headmaster stated, causing the Gryffindors to cheer and Hermione to burst into tears. "For showing remarkable Loyalty to his friends and for staying Calm while under Pressure, I award Mr. Longbottom fifty points. (Neville also started bawling.)

"For showing outstanding Courage when faced with a difficult decision and a willingness to sacrifice for others, I award Mr. Weasley fifty points," the Headmaster went on. "For showing remarkable Cunning and a willingness to put aside differences, I award Mr. Malfoy fifty points. And for sheer Bravery in the face of Unspeakable Evil and showing a great capacity to love, I award Mr. Potter sixty points."

Everyone sat, stunned.

Anyone who had been keeping track now knew that Gryffindor and Slytherin were now tied for the Cup.

"Hmm, this is quite remarkable," Dumbledore said, his eyes twinkling merrily. "Never before in the history of this school has this happened. But…as the Muggles are fond of saying…there is always a first time for everything. In that event, I declare that both Slytherin and Gryffindor shall be awarded the Cup this year!"

He clapped his hands and half the Hall was decorated in crimson and gold…and the other half in silver and green.

Everyone started cheering after that, even Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw. This lasted for several moments.

Once everyone had calmed down again, and resumed their seats, the Headmaster continued.

"There is one more thing that needs attending to," Dumbledore declared. "As many of you have no doubt read in The Daily Prophet, Lily Potter—the mother of our own young Mr. Harry Potter—is not dead, as she was believed to be all these years. She has, in fact, been in a magical coma for the last ten years. Some months ago, Lily awoke and reunited with both her son and his father, who was not James Potter as everyone believed. Harry’s true father is none other than our very own Potions Master, Severus Snape."

This received quite a gasp, as that particular bit of information was not in the article the Prophet had done upon discovering Lily was still alive.

"You see, before Lily was married to James she was married to Severus," Dumbledore explained. "Through a series of unfortunate events, Severus was declared dead by the Ministry and this put Lily and young Harry into danger’s path. James Potter, a good friend, agreed to help them. Therefore, he married Lily and gave Harry his name and made him his heir…but, sadly, James is now gone and Lily and Severus wish to remarry. They have asked me, as Chief Warlock, to officiate."

He snapped his fingers and soft music began to play.

The Great Hall doors opened and into the chamber stepped Professor Severus Snape and a radiant Lily by his side.

Harry smiled at the sight of his parents.

His father was dressed in a dark green, high-collared, knee-length tunic and breeches. His hair was pulled back and secured by a hair-tie (which was in the shape of the Slytherin crest) and his Prince medallion hung openly around his neck.

His mother was garbed in a long pale green gown that left her shoulders slightly bare and had long bell-like sleeves. She wore the earrings, necklace, and bracelet his father had given her for Christmas and her bright red hair was pulled back on both sides by the combs he’d given her but had otherwise been allowed to cascade down her back. In her hands was a small bouquet of lilies—ten of them, in fact, one for every year she’d been asleep.

Walking up the center aisle, arm in arm, they smiled openly at their son and Lily even winked at him.

The Hall was completely and utterly silent as the couple stood before the Headmaster, who beamed down upon them.

"My children," he intoned, taking out his wand, "do you both come here before these assembled of your own free will, minds, and hearts?"

"We do," Harry’s parents said at the same time, turning to face each other.

"Please, then," Dumbledore told them, "join your left hands."

They did so with Lily’s on top, her emerald ring flashing in the candlelight of the Hall.

"Severus," Dumbledore began, "do you pledge to love, honor, and cherish Lily for the whole of your days until the time you are taken beyond the Veil?"

"I do," the Potions Master nodded. "With every ounce of my magic and being, I shall love and protect her and our family."

"And will you also, Lily," the Headmaster asked, "pledge to love, honor, and cherish Severus for the whole of your days until the day you are taken beyond the Veil?"

"Gladly," Lily said, blinking back tears. "With all my heart and soul, I do."

Dumbledore reached into his pocket and retrieved two small bands—one silver and the other gold.

"Place these upon your fingers," he instructed them, gently.

Harry watched as his mother slipped the silver band upon his father’s finger and his father slipped the smaller gold band upon hers.

"I then declare that you are now and forever husband and wife," Dumbledore told them, touching their joined hands with his wand. "Bound by law, love, and magic!"

Three multicolored bands sprang from the tip of his wand, encircling their joined wrists.

They flared brightly for a moment, but then sank into their skin.

"I believe, Severus," Dumbledore informed his grandson, his eyes practically twinkling out of his head, "this is the part where you kiss your bride."

"Gladly," Harry heard his father say and then pulled Lily to him for a very deep (and outrageously embarrassing) kiss.

All the adults in the hall, and most of the girls, burst into applause. Most of the boys, however, just wrinkled their noses.

"Oh, man," Harry groaned. "I’m never going to live this down!"

"Cheer up, mate," Ron said, smiling. "It could be worse."

"How?" Harry asked him, curiously.

"Uh…well, I don’t know," Ron told him, smirking. "But I’m sure it could be."

"Thanks a lot," Harry groused, though he was secretly happy his mother and father were now married again.

"Severus, Lily, may I be the first to congratulate you both," Dumbledore told them. "Will you join us at the Head table?"

"Actually, Headmaster," the Potions Master said, "Lily and I would like to join our son at his table. For today, at least, we are simply his parents."

"Of course," Dumbledore said, smiling brightly.

Harry smiled, as his mother and father came and sat to either side of him.

"Why didn’t you tell me?" he asked them, somewhat sullen.

"Where would the fun in that be?" the two of them asked him at the same time, earning a laugh from all the adults around them.

Harry scowled for a moment, but then he too burst out laughing. He couldn’t help it.

This was perhaps one of the happiest moment of his life! They were a family…for real now!

"Now then," Dumbledore declared. "Our feast can officially begin!"

He clapped his hands, and the food appeared.

"Finally!" Ron declared. "Let’s eat!"

Everyone began doing just that.

HPHPHPHP

"So, Severus?" Arthur Weasley said, as they ate the feast the school elves had prepared. "Happy to be among the married again?"

"Completely, Arthur," Severus told him, smirking. "How are things at the Ministry these days?"

"Oh, you know, the same ole same ole," the red headed man said, shrugging. "We raid a few homes every once in a while but that’s about it."

"Indeed," he said, grinning. "Perhaps, someday, you could try Malfoy Manor…I am sure you would find loads of misused Muggle artifacts there."

"Wouldn’t that be nice?" Arthur smirked, who had a deep and utter loathing for Lucius—as they had been in the same year at Hogwarts. "Unfortuantely, without any reason, we can’t."

"Yes, I know," Severus said, sighing.

"Hey, Dad," Harry said, glancing at him. "You could always sneak into there and find some evidence…I mean, I’ll even let you borrow my invisibility cloak!"

"And why would I need to borrow it?" Severus asked him, raising an eyebrow. "It is in my possession already, remember?"

"Oh, yeah," Harry said, glumly. "I forgot…it was just an idea."

"It is ideas like that that is the reason you are grounded for the first two weeks of the summer, remember?" Severus reminded him, pointedly.

Harry wrinkled his nose. "I know," he said, sighing.

He [Severus] might not have done as he had wished, which was to turn the children across his knee for their little adventure, but that didn’t mean they had all gotten away with it.

Harry, Ron, and Hermione—whose parents had been just as livid as he and Lily—were all three grounded for the first two weeks of their vacation.

That meant no flying or Quidditch, no corresponding, and [for Hermione, at least] no reading for enjoyment.

And, of course, lots of extra chores!

Draco’s bottom had not gone unscathed, as Narcissa had not been pleased in the least, but putting him on restriction would mean Lucius discovering his little escapade and that would be worse for the boy in the long run.

Severus wasn’t sure what Neville’s grandmother had in store for him, but the intense frown on the old woman’s face did not bode well for the timid boy.

There was a reason Augusta Longbottom had a reputation for being a very powerful—and sharp tongued—witch.

"Do not worry, Harry," Arthur told him, grinning. "The time will fly by, you’ll see."

"It’ll be a chance for you to get to know your new home, dear," Molly told him, grinning.

"Plus give you ample time to do all your summer assignments and get them out of the way," Severus told him, smirking.

"Ah…Dad!" Harry griped, sourly.

"As I’ve said before," Severus told him, smirking. "If you do not wish to do the time…"

"Don’t do the crime," Harry grumbled, sourly. "I know. I know. Yeesh!"

"Don’t argue, Sweetheart," Lily told him, gently yet firmly. "Otherwise it will be three weeks instead of two."

"Mum!" Harry gasped, shocked.

Severus smiled at his wife, thanking her for her support with his eyes.

There was nothing scarier than an angry red-headed witch!

And every Weasley male from Arthur to Ronald could attest whole-heartedly to that fact.

"Oh, Lily, I’m so happy to see you again," Molly told her old friend, "but I must say I am rather miffed at your husband."

"And why is that, Molly?" Lily asked her, curiously. She smirked at him.

"Because in ten years time he might have let a body know you were still with us," Molly said, glaring at him.

"I could not risk it," Severus told her, bluntly.

"As if I’d go blabbing to the Ministry," Molly sniffed. "She’s my best friend, Severus! And I’m your cousin, for Merlin’s sake!"

Severus winced. "I am well aware of that, Molly, but—"

"Humph," Molly sniffed. "If you were one of my sons I’d take a wooden spoon to you!"

"Don’t worry, Molly," Lily told her, gently. "I’ll be sure to ‘punish’ him for you."

Severus wrinkled his nose. "Not married a whole hour," he muttered, "and already I’m in the doghouse…"

"Welcome back to married life," Arthur smirked at him.

The clinking of glass got everyone’s attention as they turned back to the Head table. Albus had stood up again.

"Now that we are amply fed and watered," he said, his eyes twinkling maddenly. "What say we have a bit of exercise, eh? If everyone one will step back from their tables…"

As everyone did so, he waved his wand and all the plates, goblets, pitchers, and platters disappeared.

Waving his wand again, all four long tables stood up and shuffled to lean against the walls.

Waving his wand a third time, soft music began to play.

"I believe," Albus said, smirking, "it is customary for the bride and groom to have the first dance, yes?"

Severus sighed. Albus, one of these days…

He turned to his wife and smiled.

"Would you do me the honor of dance, my love?" he asked her, gently holding out his hand.

Lily smiled, taking his hand. "I’d be delighted," she told him.

Together, they stepped out into the middle of the Hall.

Then, they danced.

SSSSSSSS

"Mum?"

Lily smiled down at Harry, with whom she was currently dancing with.

"You look really pretty," he told her, smiling.

"Why thank you, kind sir," she teased him. "I must say you look rather handsome yourself."

"I hate this cap," Harry told her, wrinkling his nose.

"Your father did, too," Lily told him, smiling.

"I’m glad you and Dad are married again," Harry told her. "You two deserve to be happy."

"You deserve to be happy too, love," she reminded him, gently.

Harry blushed a bit at that. "Yeah, I know," he told her, gently. "Hey, can I ask you something?"

"I don’t know, Harry," she told him, smirking. "Can you?"

Harry sighed. "May I ask you something?"

Lily chuckled. "Yes," she told him, "you may. What’s on your mind, Sweetheart?"

"I was just wondering," Harry said, hesitantly. "Why did Quirrel burn up when I touched him? I mean to ask dad earlier, but I forgot…"

Lily thought a moment. "Do you remember the spell I cast upon us, Harry?" she asked him. "The night You-Know-Who attacked us?"

"The one that protected us?" Harry asked, and she nodded. "What about it?"

"That spell never went away, love," she told him, gently, "and it never will. Until the day you die, Harry, no one with a truly evil heart beating inside their chest will be able to stand your touch. If they try, they’ll get burned."

"But…why?" Harry asked, wide-eyed. "How can a spell be that powerful?"

"Because it was created with and powered by my love for you, dear," she explained. "My love for you is that great, Harry James, and therefore the spell as equally powerful."

Harry smiled. "I love you that much, too," he told her, wrapping his arms more tightly around her.

"I know," she told him, kissing him on the top of the head.

A throat being cleared got their attention and they turned to look at Severus. "Mind if I cut in?" he asked, curiously.

"I, uh, I guess so," Harry said, smiling.

"Why don’t we all dance together, instead?" Lily suggested, smiling.

"Uh," Harry said, glancing around, "won’t that be kinda…embarrassing?"

Lily and Severus both smiled wickedly at that.

"All the more reason, then," her husband chuckled, taking a hold of their son’s hand and then hers.

"Come, my dears," Lily said, taking Harry’s other hand. "Let’s dance."

"M-uh-m! D-ah-d!" Harry moaned, as they started to spin about the room. "Everybody will see us!"

Lily and Severus just laughed, continuing to spin.

Despite his protests, however, Harry did not attempt to let go of their hands and even began to laugh himself after a few moments.

Lily smiled.

They were finally, completely, whole again.

And she intended to keep it that way.

Always.

Severus and Lily once more walked the woods beyond their cottage home—albeit a bit older now than they used to be.

And they didn’t walk them alone, either.

Trailing behind them a little ways were Harry and Tobias.

"It’s still so beautiful here, love," Lily told him, as she leaned closer to him.

"I know," Severus said, wrapping an arm around her shoulder.

"It has been a long time since we’ve frolicked in these woods," Lily said, smiling at him. "Are you game?"

Severus smirked. "Always, my love," he told her, gently. "Always."

"Then, let’s go," she told him, smiling mischievously.

A few moments later, a large black stag and a small Hind (a red doe) bounded further into the trees side by side.

Harry and Tobias stopped in their tracks at the sight.

"Mum’s an animagus, too," Harry said, smiling. "I should have guessed that…"

Tobias chuckled, patting his grandson on the head.

"Something tells me they’re going to be awhile," he told him. "What say you and I head back to the cottage and play some chess, eh?"

"Okay, Grandpa Toby," Harry said, smiling. They turned and headed back towards their new home.

"Glad to be home?" Tobias asked him, curiously.

Harry nodded, smiling. He was very glad to be home.

It seemed Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived had finally found where he belonged.

With his family…