Prologue

August 1986

     Six year old Harry Potter tried to get comfortable but was finding it extremely difficult. Harry wanted to go to sleep but was unable to sleep in his favorite position- his back- due to his sore rear and thighs. He hadn’t meant to break the plate during breakfast; but in his haste to clear the table, a plate slipped from his little hands. Unfortunately, his Uncle Vernon hadn’t left for work yet and he was absolutely furious. He went on about ungrateful and unnatural freaks before taking off his belt and delivering what he thought to be a very fair and necessary dose of discipline. Vernon ‘knew’ that it would not do to let freaks like his nephew get uppity, who knew what they would get up to if not strictly kept in line.

      The morning’s discipline was what led to Harry laying miserably on his side, alternately rubbing his sore rear and fanning himself to take the edge off of the summer heat that always seemed so much worse in his tiny cupboard. He was desperately hoping that he would hear the music again tonight. Sometimes, after days when Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia had been particularly angry with him, he would hear what he assumed to be a quiet lullaby.

     After a half an hour of trying to get comfortable on his toddler mattress, Harry heard the beginning of the lullaby he had hoped to hear. He always heard a woman singing in a gentle voice and the music never failed to make him feel safe and loved. Tonight was a bit different, though. As the lullaby went on, Harry could feel a cool breeze flow across his face. He tried so hard to stay awake so that he could enjoy the feeling of the music and the breeze, but sleep quickly claimed him.

October 1988

     Harry was running as fast as his little legs could carry him. Dudley and his friend Piers – who was undoubtedly just as nasty as Dudley- were playing their favorite game, “Harry Hunting”. Harry knew he had to get away. Not only would Dudley give him a thrashing, but he would be late getting home from primary and would be in trouble for not being there to start his chores on time. As he was running, he suddenly heard shrieking and barking behind him that was quickly getting further away. Harry took a chance and looked behind him and what he saw made him stop dead in his tracks. Dudley and his friend were being chased by a very scary dog. Harry couldn’t help but stop and watch as Dudley jiggled as he ran away. Dudley made it to the street corner and turned. The dog let out one more snarl, then flickered, sort of like a dying light bulb, and disappeared. Harry rubbed his eyes but could not deny what he just saw. ‘That dog really did just disappear. I wonder if it came from the same place that my music does?’ Harry walked the rest of the way to Privet Drive in peaceful contemplation.

July 1989

     Harry knew that tonight was going to be a terrible, painful Friday night. His Aunt Petunia had taken Dudley to a movie and Uncle Vernon had come home in a dark mood. He had already resigned himself to going without dinner and thus silently swore that he would stay out of his Uncle Vernon’s way. Unfortunately, Harry was unable to keep his promise to himself because as he was walking out of Dudley’s bedroom with a bundle of dirty laundry, he walked straight into Uncle Vernon. “Watch what you are doing, boy!” Before Harry could even stammer out an apology, Vernon brought his hand up and backhanded Harry across the right cheek. Harry would have counted himself lucky if that had been the end of it, but Harry’s balance was already incredibly off due to the large bundle of laundry in his arms and so the force of Uncle Vernon’s backhand was enough to make Harry stumble and fall to the side. Fate was truly working against Harry tonight because instead of finding purchase on the floor, his foot met only empty air and Harry began a dangerous fall down the stairs. Harry was surprised when he felt a soft presence behind him stop his fall. He stood on the steps as a woman pointed a stick at his Uncle and whispered a word that sounded something like “oblivion”, sending Vernon into a slack-mouthed stupor. After that, the pretty woman began to flicker, much like the dog had from a few years ago. She gave Harry a sad smile, and then disappeared completely. Harry turned to look at his Uncle who seemed to be shaking himself out of his stupor.

     Finally orienting himself to his surroundings, Vernon found the boy staring confusedly at him. “What, are you dense now, get on with your chores!” Harry hurriedly made his way down the rest of the stairs and towards the laundry room. He was mystified that his Uncle seemed to have no memory of the mysterious woman that had saved Harry from a terrible fall.

    Snape’s POV

      Severus Snape was not a happy man. Not that he was ever happy prior to a new term, but this year was a special case. The Boy-Who-Lived was coming to Hogwarts. He could only imagine the heights of conceit that he would have to tolerate; well, not tolerate. More like quash as quickly as possible. The thought of knocking Harry Potter off of his podium could always bring a small smirk to his face. If any students had been present in the corridor, they would have jumped out of the way upon seeing that smirk.

      In addition to the insult of arriving students, Snape had also been lacking a restful night's sleep for the past two weeks. Every time he put his head to the pillow, he could swear to hearing someone whispering to him. He couldn't quite make out the words, although he was quite sure that he heard "please, Sev" on more than one occasion. The mysterious whisperer sounded frustrated and frantic; and the whisper became more and more frantic each night. The first night he had heard the whispering, Severus had jumped out of bed and chanted every revealing incantation that he could think of. Not a single spell detected anything. As the nights wore on, Severus tried alternately ignoring the whisper and listening carefully so as to pinpoint its location. Unfortunately, when he listened carefully, it sounded as though it was right next to his ear, and wasn't that bloody disconcerting. Severus Snape had been through enough in his life that he found it frustrating that he might be losing his mind at this junction of his life. Surely there were events in the past that were terrifying enough to push his mind over the edge at the time, so what could possibly be the present catalyst?

     Shaking his head in an attempt to physically clear his mind of the dark musings, Severus made his way through the staff entrance to the head table. He then took his unfortunate seat next to Quirrell. If there was someone who should be hearing voices, Quirrell would be first on his list of candidates. Since returning from his sabbatical, Quirrell had been a nervous wreck. Terrified of vampires, he now reeked of Garlic and wore a ridiculous turban on his head. The smell of Garlic was so strong that Snape could almost feel his sense of smell being overloaded. The smell practically overpowered his sense of taste as well. Worse than the smell, though, was the stammer that Quirrell had seemed to acquire. Very few things irked Snape more than a poor speaker; especially when the poor speaker was an alleged peer.

     Snape finally caught site of Minerva approaching the stool in front of the Head Table with a scroll clutched in her hands. 'Finally, let us get this travesty over with.' After listening to yet another rhyme issue forth from the sorting hat, Minerva began calling names. Snape amused himself by playing his usual 'Guess the House' game and allowed himself to pretend that James Potter's son did not exist, if only for a few minutes. Snape leaned forward slightly when he heard the name "Draco Malfoy". Not that he doubted the boy would be a Slytherin, he was just curious to see how long it took the hat to announce it. "Slytherin" was the proclamation, even before the hat touched Draco's head. 'Draco will be pleased. His hair did not even get mussed' mused Snape. He watched Draco smirk and then swagger to the Slytherin table.

     Finally, the Deputy Headmistress called "Harry Potter" forward and Snape could no longer deny that James Potter's spawn was in residence. As expected, the boy looked exactly like his blasted father. What surprised him, though, was Potter's small stature and frame. 'If I did not know who he was, I would ask Albus why a nine year old was being admitted to Hogwarts.' As another surprise, a most unwelcome one, Potter had his mother's eyes; the same shape and the same impossible green color. Snape could not help but think 'What a waste'. He watched as the boy carefully hoisted himself up onto the stool and was likely listening intently to what the hat was saying. After a few minutes, 'Leave it to Potter to take longer than anyone else', the sorting hat shouted "Gryffindor" much to the delight of the students already sitting at the Gryffindor table. Allowing himself a bit of unbiased honesty, Snape could say that despite Potter's parentage, he was surprised to see the timid looking boy sorted into Gryffindor. He would have guessed Potter to be a Hufflepuff based on the way he carried himself. 'Perhaps Albus' senility is finally rubbing off on the ancient hat'.

     Snape half-heartedly listened to the Headmaster's typical start of term speech and mentally rolled his eyes when the warning concerning the third floor corridor was given. 'If anything Albus, you just put out a welcome beacon to the third corridor. The little Hellions, particularly the Gryffindors, are all probably salivating now at the thought of heading to the third floor.'

     Albus finally announced the beginning of the feast and Snape picked up his fork to begin his meal. When his first bite was practically to his lips, he felt a chilling breeze near his ear and finally heard unmistakable words from his mysterious whisperer, "Beware Quirrell!" Snape, quite uncharacteristically, dropped his fork producing a loud clatter. "A-a-alright, Prof-f-fessor Snape?" "Yes, thank you Quirrell" Snape drawled, “I suddenly found myself downwind of an overwhelming source of garlic." Unsure of how to reply, Quirrell wisely went back to his meal.

     'Is that what the voice had been leading up to all this time, a plea, to be wary of Quirrell?’ There must be more to it than that." Resolving to perform another, even more thorough sweep of his quarters, and possibly even the Great Hall, Snape continued with his meal.

Harry’s POV

     Watching the sorting taking place with the other first years, Harry was a ball of nerves. For the first time in his life, Harry was thankful that his stomach was so empty; otherwise he would have thrown up by now. He was terrified that the hat would tell him that there had been some sort of mistake and that he had to go back to the Dursley’s. ‘Even if they let me back, there would be consequences for all of the freakishness they have had to deal with the past few weeks. If I am lucky, they might send me to an orphanage.”

     Finally hearing his name, Harry slowly made his way to the stool. He felt as though every eye in the Great Hall was focused on him. When the hat was placed on his head, Harry was quite surprised that the hat would think him cunning and that it knew just how badly he wanted to prove himself.

     As soon as the hat finished telling him how Slytherin could help him on his way to greatness, Harry heard a voice quietly hissing, “Do it and burn, hat”. The hat laughed outright, although Harry had no idea why the hat found the thought of being kindling was so amusing. The hat continued “Well, this should be an amusing development. So be it then, better be GRYFFINDOR!” A thunderous applause broke out at the Gryffindor table and Harry slipped off of the stool and made his way over to his fellow Gryffindors.

     When the sorting concluded, Harry carefully listened to the Headmaster’s notices and at the same time wondered if the Headmaster was colorblind.  Based on the man’s clashing robes, he must be. As the feast began, Harry heard a clanking sound from the head table and looked up just in time to watch a darkly clad professor retrieving his fork and then scowling at the man next to him. Harry nudged Ron, “Who is that?” “Oh,” answered Ron, “that’s Professor Snape. The twins said he teaches potions and that he is not too fond of Gryffindors as a whole.” Harry watched as the man next to Snape turned back to his plate. He then did a double take when he saw a flickering image of a woman -the same woman that had saved him at the Dursley’s over a year ago- standing behind Quirrell. He assumed that no one else saw her because no one else was looking at the head table.

     Harry was shocked to see her. He had not seen or heard from her, except occasional reassuring whispers, since that night at the Dursley’s. He noticed she was looking right at him with what appeared to be a worried expression on her face. As he watched, she nodded her head toward Professor Quirrell and began to shake her head no. After that, she flickered out of existence as Harry had come to expect.

     “Hey mate, are you all right?” Harry shook himself out of his contemplation and looked at Ron, “Yeah sure, just got lost in my thoughts for a second.” Thinking nothing of it, Ron started chattering about Quidditch and Harry was able to nod in agreement with Ron at all the appropriate times while he thought about what it could mean to see the woman again after all this time.

Chapter 2

Lily’s POV

Lily Potter was afraid that she was going to have to waste energy to Incendio a hat. 'Put my son in Slytherin, honestly.' She did not have anything against Slytherin house. In fact, in different circumstances, her son would have thrived in the house of the snake. After ten years with Petunia, there was no doubt that he was cunning; he had to be. Lily also knew that her son was a parselmouth; though, she did not think that he realized it. That trait alone would have given him a lot of joy in Slytherin. Unfortunately, with the number of children related to former Death Eaters housed in Slytherin, she did not feel that it would be the safe, peaceful place that he so desperately needed.

Lily, through the years, has had the ability to watch over her son. At first, on that terrible Halloween night, Lily and James had both stayed behind to wait for Harry after they had been killed. Then, the impossible happened; the killing curse that Voldemort aimed at Harry rebounded back on him, leaving behind a crying Harry and a pile of ash where Voldemort had once stood. At that point, James and Lily stayed to make sure that someone came for Harry. When Sirius came and picked him up from the rubble, James wanted them both to leave, with the knowledge that Harry was in good hands. "Please James, just a little while longer. I need to see that he is safe." When Hagrid arrived and Sirius handed Harry off to him to chase after Peter, she started to get a bad feeling. Dumbledore arrived finally, which satisfied James. Lily almost left with James, but then she heard Dumbledore murmuring about needing to figure out a safe place for Harry.

Both Lily and James were beginning to get tired, and could feel the huge pull to move on. "We need to go Lily, or we risk being trapped here." "I know, you're right.” Lily sighed, “Albus is here, I’m sure Harry is in good hands." Lily turned and began to walk onward with James. But then, just as James was fading out, Lily heard Dumbledore say to Hagrid "Harry must be left with blood relations. Lily has a sister with a small boy a tad older than Harry. I need you to take Harry to see Madame Pomfrey, then bring him to me in Little Whinging, Surrey."

Lily turned back to look at Dumbledore, “No, what are you saying, he can't go there, Petunia hates the magical world, he will be miserable there!" Without a single glance back at the spot where her husband had been, Lily walked over to look at her son as he slept in Hagrid's arms. The sluggishness that had been nagging her could no longer be ignored and with a last look at Harry, Lily fell into blackness.

When Lily awoke, she was standing outside #4 Privet Drive as Hagrid wept over Harry in front of Professor McGonagall and the Headmaster. She heard Minerva expressing her doubts about leaving Harry with Petunia and found herself cheering mentally. 'Of course, my old head of house would never let this travesty occur. Plus, Dumbledore must really be as senile as everyone thinks because Petunia is going to laugh in his face when he tries to leave Harry with her.'

The Headmaster then left Harry on the doorstep of Petunia's home with a note. "You're just going to leave my baby, are you insane? What if they decide to have a lie-in, he could freeze to death before they find him!" Lily watched in shock and fury as Hagrid rode away, McGonagall shifted into her animagus form and sauntered off, and Dumbledore walked away to the end of the street. He stopped and seemed to release balls of light back into the street lamps. Then, he was gone.

Lily could not even begin to fathom what Dumbledore had been thinking. Knowing that she could not even think about leaving until she knew what would happen to Harry, Lily went and sat next to his basket to wait. Lily was almost frantic by the time the door to the house was opened. Petunia opened the door and immediately spotted the baby on her doorstep. She found the note pinned to his blanket and was shocked that it was made out specifically to her. Her shock turned to disgust as she read the note. When she finished reading she scowled, none too gently snatched the basket up, and strode into the house. Lily followed and watched as she paused, and then opened up the supply cupboard under the stairs, shoving the baby, basket and all inside onto the floor of the cupboard. Petunia closed the door then simply strode off and called for Vernon.

At that point, Harry woke up and was apparently frightened by waking up alone in a dimly lit cupboard. Lily was able to move through the door of the cupboard and sit on the floor next to Harry. As he cried, she reached out to stroke his cheek and her breath hitched in a sob as her fingers went right through his face. Wanting desperately to comfort him, she got as close to his ear as she thought would be reasonable and began to sing a soft lullaby.

To her surprise, Harry seemed to hear her and had soon stopped crying and drifted back to sleep. When after an hour no one came to check on him, Lily realized that she would not be leaving Harry's side any time soon.

As time went on, Lily found she could stay conscious for longer and longer periods of time. More and more often, when Vernon or Petunia had been especially cruel to Harry, she was able to sing to him at night to help sooth him. By the time that he was six, she had the energy to send a cool breeze over her son on the hot nights when he was alone in his humid cupboard. When he was eight, she was able to manifest an image of a pit bull to scare of Petunia's fat little heathen and his friend. Then when Harry was ten, Lily watched as Vernon backhanded Harry, causing him to stumble near the staircase. As he began to fall, Lily summoned up her strength and caught him before he was able to take the devastating tumble down the stairs. Knowing that the scene would only enrage Vernon further, she gathered up every last bit of strength that she could, pulled her wand, and obliviated Vernon.

For almost the next year, Lily seemed to slip in and out of consciousness. Occasionally, she would be aware of her surroundings and she would take that time to murmur encouraging words into her little boy's ear. Lily started to wake more and more as Harry’s eleventh birthday approached. When his birthday was a week away, Lily felt the strongest that she ever had since entering her limbo like existence.

     Lily practically jumped for joy when the first Hogwart's letter arrived. She could only smirk when Vernon tore up the first letter. 'Really Vernon, do you actually think that you will stop a magical delivery service?'. As the letters kept arriving, Lily was exuberant. Even when Vernon packed up his obnoxious family, and Harry, to go hide in the cabin on the rocky island, Lily was still joyous. She knew that nothing would keep her son from Hogwarts. She was proven right on the night of Harry's birthday when Hagrid burst through the door of the cabin.

     She then spent the next few weeks practicing going to locations away from Harry so that she could gather information. She went to go spy on the Headmaster, but her time with him was not very revealing. She then decided to find out how Severus was faring. By watching him in his dungeon quarters, Lily was able to gather that he truly had turned on Voldemort to spy for Dumbledore. Though, Severus often raged about James Potter, cursing his name. Sometimes he cursed himself when he spoke to himself of his love for Lily after a few servings of Ogden's finest. One night, about two weeks before the start of term, Severus was again cursing James Potter; but this time, he went on about how Potter had stolen everything that should have been his. Lily was supposed to be his wife! Harry should be a Snape, not a Potter! At those words, Lily smiled to herself as a plan began forming in her mind. That was the night she began whispering in Severus' ear.

     Now, here she was standing next to Severus and watching the rest of the sorting. She realized that something was not quite right about the Defense Professor. The very air around him seemed dead. She reckoned that now was as good a time as any to communicate her concern to Severus so she shouted her warning in his ear in a voice that only he would hear. Under different circumstances, she would have laughed at the way the dignified man dropped his fork. She then walked behind Quirrell and waited until Harry was looking at the head table to make herself visible to him. Being seen was much harder than being heard and so she did not want to waste any energy trying to make herself more obvious to Harry. When Harry finally made eye contact with her, she gave him a concerned look, inclined her head toward Quirrell, and then shook her head no, hoping Harry would understand the warning she was trying to communicate.

When Harry hesitantly nodded his understanding, Lily let herself flicker away out of sight.

Chapter 4: Potions

     Severus was aggrieved that he would not have an opportunity to further investigate his mysterious visitor until later into the week. As much as he wanted to ignore voices in the dark -and at the head table for that matter- he couldn't help but pay extra attention to Quirrell as the week wore on. So far, the only things that stood out about Quirrell were his gross ineptitude and his horrid stench. Plus, the man appeared to be on the brink of a nervous breakdown; if he were to be at the center of any nefarious plot, he would probably die of fright well before the plan was carried out.

     The first week of school was always the busiest and right now he had his first class of Gryffindor/Slytherin first years to contend with. Mentally going through the list of students, Severus cringed at more than one name. Draco Malfoy, while intelligent, was truly a pretentious little bugger, and Severus found himself grinding his teeth every time he had to interact with the obnoxious youth. 'If that child starts one more sentence with "My father", I run the risk of cracking one of my teeth'. Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle seemed to take after their fathers with their blank personalities and troll-like intelligence. He'd already heard tales of the know-it-all Granger chit. There was another Weasley to put up with, of course. Although, he hated to admit it, but he actually enjoyed the twin Weasley juvenile delinquents,’ they are quite talented even if they are annoying.’  He would never admit it out loud, however, even under threat of cruciatus. There was then, of course Potter. The rest of the professors raved about him. Everything from "he is just like is father" to "what a polite, eager boy". Severus couldn't help but think that being “polite” and “just like his father” were mutually exclusive.

     The only thing that Severus had to look forward to would be pulling the rug out from underneath the spoiled Potter brat. Potter may get by on just his name and a smile in every other class, but Severus would simply not stand for it. By the end of class today, Potter would know, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that fame clearly isn't everything.

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      The first few days of term had passed quickly for Harry. So far, the only class that he did not enjoy was Defense Against the Dark Arts. When he first went into the class, he had thought that it would be his favorite. Unfortunately, not only was the class boring, but something about the room gave him a splitting headache. He was not sure if it was the smell, the Professor's stuttering, or the fact that he spent most of the class mentally dissecting Quirrell and looking for something off.

     Harry had taken the warning from his life-long friend to heart. He knew that she only appeared when he really needed her so there must be something important about Professor Quirrell that he needed to watch for. Harry wished he could share his concerns with someone, but he doubted that anyone would take seriously the warnings from what they would think of as his imaginary friend. He knew she was more than that, though. She had been with him for what he was sure was his entire life. She could not have possibly come from his imagination. Not only could he physically feel her presence at times, but she would sing him songs that he had never heard before. Most importantly, he now realized that his friend was a witch. When she had saved him from falling down the stairs last year, she had pointed a stick at uncle Vernon. He now knew that stick was a wand; and whatever she had said to Vernon must have been a spell. All that he could remember was that it sounded like 'oblivion' and it had caused Vernon to act confused and forget the past five minutes.  He knew that uncle Vernon never did remember that space of time; Harry definitely would have been punished had he remembered. So the fact that she was a witch was another clue he could use to try and figure out who she was. Unfortunately, instead of helping, that clue just seemed to change the mystery from a hundred piece puzzle to a thousand piece puzzle.

     Harry was now walking to his first Friday morning class; double potions with the Slytherins. He was actually looking forward to the class. He assumed that it would be a lot like cookery and Harry really liked to cook, especially when he got to eat what he had made. 'I wonder if we get to use whatever me make' Harry mused. Admittedly, he found the potions professor a bit scary, but he knew that appearances were not everything. His relatives appeared to be perfect to everyone around them, but that definitely wasn't the reality.

     Ron did not have anything positive to say about the upcoming potions class, so Harry just nodded each time Ron paused in his complaints. Harry really liked Ron, he was very earnest and seemed to like Harry for himself; Ron just did not strike him as very studious so Harry knew not to take his complaints about classes and professors too seriously. Harry thought he himself was pretty smart. He didn't think he compared to the Granger girl, but he also knew he could do much better than Dudley's appalling grades. He finally had the opportunity to apply himself being that the Dursley's were unlikely to ever ask about his grades and even if they did, they would have no idea what they meant. The only issue Harry had faced so far was the lack of summer preparation for his classes but that was unavoidable being that his uncle had locked all of his new things in the closet before he had even left the foyer.

     Leading Ron toward a seat in the front of the class, Harry made his way to a worktable. "Why do we always have to sit in the front of the class?" Ron grumped. "Because it is easier to see the board from the front" "Whatever mate, don't blame me if we end up the center of attention."

_______________________

     Severus Snape waited under a disillusionment charm outside of the classroom door until the exact start of class. One of his few joys in life was frightening the moronic first years. When class was due to start, Severus burst through the classroom door, his robes billowing behind him. With a negligent flick of his hand, he wandlessly made the door slam shut behind him. Taking stock of the students' chosen seating arrangement, Severus strode to the front of the classroom and began his favorite speech. 

"You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potion making. As there is little foolish wand-waving here, many of you will hardly believe this is magic. I don't expect you will really understand the beauty of the softly simmering cauldron with its shimmering fumes, the delicate power of liquids that creep through human veins, bewitching the mind, ensnaring the senses.... I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, even stopper death -- if you aren't as big a bunch of dunderheads as I usually have to teach." (Philosopher’s Stone, pg. 110)

     As he neared the end of his speech, Severus noticed that the Potter brat was busy scribbling on his parchment. 'Unbelievable, passing notes on the first day of class.' Severus finished his speech and immediately and spun on Potter. "Tell me Potter, what would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?" I don't know sir. "Of course you don't" Severus replied mockingly. "Where would you look if you needed to find a bezoar?” “I don’t know sir.”

     "Clearly, fame isn't everything, Mr Potter". As soon as he had finished his mocking of Potter, Severus saw a sight he never thought he would see again. Not three feet in front of him stood Lily Potter. An obviously infuriated Lily Potter. Severus could practically feel the blood rush from his head as he took in her visage. Thoughts were galloping through Severus' mind, 'How is this possible? Is she really there? Is she a figment of my imagination?' He had not moved or taken a breath since the image of Lily appeared in front of him.  Apparently, he had stood in shock for a noticeable amount of time because the spawn of his hallucination asked "Are you alright, Professor?" Without a second thought, Severus snapped "Detention Potter!" As soon as the words had left his mouth, the image of Lily scowled and flickered. At the same instant, Severus startled then spun around quickly to look at the area behind him when he heard the sound of shattering glass.  He walked over to his desk, the source of the noise, and found that his inkwell of red ink had shattered and there were pieces of glass and red ink completely covering his desk. Even more of an oddity was the fact that there was not a single piece of glass or a drop of ink anywhere except for his desk. It was as though something made sure that the students would not be hurt in the explosion. Unable to contain himself, Severus, without turning to face the class again, roared "Out, get out all of you! Eight o’clock Potter!" A loud cracking was then heard as Severus' desk broke in half. By this point, the students were practically running to get out of the classroom.

     As Severus stood looking at the wreckage of his desk, his only thought was 'Apparently, my hallucination thinks I am in error.’
______________________

     Harry, despite just being singled out and antagonized by his Professor, could not help but ask if he was alright. The poor man looked as if he had seen a ghost! Even after the professor gave him detention 'It seemed like a reflex for Professor Snape to give out detention anyway' Harry still could not find it in him to get upset; especially when the man seemed to startle then immediately spin around. Harry thought that he had heard glass shattering near the Professor's desk and was proven correct when the professor started stalking toward the desk. Three quarters of the class jerked in surprise when the professor started yelling for them to get out. When he reminded Harry of his detention, the class must have realized that the professor hadn't gone completely insane and so everyone thought it was in their best interest to leave before the professor started taking names.

     Harry had never seen students run, 'flee in terror would be more like it', out of a class so fast before.
____________________

     After the last of the students had run out of the room, Severus was left staring at his desk in silent contemplation. 'That had to have been a true manifestation of Lily. Any hallucination conjured from my mind certainly wouldn't have made sure the students were safe in the midst of a fit of anger. But why would she be making her presence known now?' Suddenly Severus came to a realization and it made him feel as if a bucket of cold water had been dumped over his head. 'She has been here for weeks; the pleading whispers at night, the voice shouting a warning that only I could hear.' Severus wasn't sure if knowing the source of the voices made him feel better or worse.

     Out loud, Severus murmured "Well Lily, your memory has been haunting me for years, you may as well haunt me in reality."

Chapter 4: Detention

Much to the delight of the entire student body, Potions class was cancelled for the rest of Friday. The main reason being that Severus did not think he could manage to compose himself enough to face the little blighters. His encounter with Lily’s spectre had thrown him entirely off base. The very fact she could willfully manipulate the physical environment in addition to making herself visible unnerved him.  ‘Would that make her a ghost such as Sir Nicholas or more of a poltergeist akin to Peeves? Does the distinction really matter?’ Taking inventory of what he knew, Severus ruminated; ‘I know she can make herself heard and seen. Communicating seems to be difficult for her, though. When angered, she could make major changes to the physical environment.’ He smirked when he thought that not even death could tame Lily’s temper. Thinking on Lily’s temper, Severus could not help but reflect on the product of said temper. Much to Severus’ consternation, no amount of spells, whether reparo or a wide range of counter-curses, could repair his desk. Not only that, but the ink had stained everything on the desk and multiple attempts at scougify had not changed the intensity of the stain in the slightest. It was while he was staring at and contemplating his desk that the Headmaster decided to pay a visit.

“Ah Severus, are you feeling alright, my boy?”

“Of course I am Albus, what would possess you to ask such a question?”

Albus made a show of pondering the question. “Hmm, your classes were cancelled today after a class of first years ran from your room, no less than three of them in tears. While having first years leave your room in tears would be nothing new, the fact that you let them all leave class early is quite odd.”

Scowling, Severus replied, “I have a headache. Due to the amount of pain I am experiencing, I cannot safely oversee idiot children handling volatile chemicals.”

“I see. Being that you are the one who brew s the headache remedy for the infirmary, it must be a very terrible headache indeed since even you are not skilled enough to relieve it” Albus stated wryly.

Severus gritted his teeth, “Indeed”.

“I also can’t help but notice that you will be requiring a new inkwell for your red ink; and your desk appears to be split in half.”

“Yes, Headmaster, I have noticed as well.”

Realizing he wasn’t going to get any further information from his potions master, the Headmaster simply said, in his typically cheerful manner “Ah, well as long as you have the situation under control, I shall leave you to it.”

“Thank you Albus, that would be appreciated at this time”.

Albus picked up on the subtle promise for future information and so was content to leave Severus to his thoughts. “Have a good weekend then Severus. Please remember my door is always open to you, my boy.”

Already back to his silent musings, Severus merely grunted an affirmative.

Harry was not sure what to think as he made his way to the potions classroom for his detention. He had made sure to leave with plenty of time to spare since he was not sure what exactly would set off his hot-tempered professor. Something had obviously startled his teacher but Harry had no idea how to find out what exactly that something was.

Upon reaching the classroom door, Harry gathered up his courage and knocked. An irritated sounding “Enter!” was heard so Harry opened the door and then carefully closed it behind him. His professor appeared to be in deep meditation as he stood staring at his desk, tapping a finger against his tightly pursed lips.

When no further instruction was forthcoming, Harry asked “Um, Professor, what would you like me to do?”

“Go to the sink at the side of the room and begin washing the cauldrons. By hand, no magic.”

Harry replied “Of course, Professor” and made his way over to the sink. He surveyed the mess, located a footstool to pull up to the sink, and set to work.

Snape snapped out of his thoughts when the expected protests did not begin and looked over to see what the boy was getting into. He was a bit taken aback to see Potter dutifully filling the sink and organizing the haphazard pile that the cauldrons were laying in. Determined to get a rise out of the boy, Snape began “Is there a reason, Mr. Potter, which you think that you can speak in any way you wish to a Professor”.

Harry was not sure how he was expected to respond, so he simply said “No, sir”. When no further recriminations followed, Harry turned to look at his Professor. Professor Snape seemed to be staring intently at the front of the room and so Harry followed his gaze; he was shocked and thrilled to see his life-long protector and friend standing plain as day behind the Professor’s desk.  She seemed to be looking right at his Professor and she appeared to be angry judging by the stormy expression on her face.

Unsure what to do about the silent stand-off, he turned his confused gaze to Professor Snape and asked in a small and hopeful voice “Can you see her too, Professor?”

“Yes, you foolish child, what else do you think I would be staring at” Snape replied harshly making the face of Harry’s friend twist into an obvious frown.

“Well that’s brilliant, Professor, do you know who she is?” Harry asked excitedly.

Thinking that the brat was being either obtuse or condescending, Snape replied “Of course I know who she is, what kind of question is that?”

Harry was oblivious to his professor’s tone and rattled on, “Could you tell me who she is? I’ve seen her a few times and I have heard her voice for as long as I can remember now, but I don’t know who she is!”

Snape was ready to explode at the boy’s words until he caught a glimpse of his Lily’s mournful expression. “He really doesn’t know who you are, does he?” he murmured to Lily.

With a sad look on her face, Lily slowly shook her head no.

In his shock, Snape could only respond, “But how?”

Lily simply looked at Severus imploringly then nodded her head at Harry. Snape looked over and seeing Potter’s hopeful expression, said “We need to talk, Mr. Potter.”

As soon as he told Potter that they needed to talk, Severus could see Lily's face break into a smile. "I take it your goal is for us to talk?" Severus asked the spectre of his long dead love. Lily gave him a smile and tilted her head to the side in a non-committal affirmative. "Ah, there is more, is there not?" At this, Lily's smile grew and she nodded her head adamantly before fading from sight.

Pulling in a deep breath, Severus turned to look at Harry and said "Follow me."

Harry was not sure what to think but curiosity about his friend led him to follow his professor's instruction. He followed Professor Snape out of the classroom, down the corridor, and then continued behind him after a right turn. They stopped in front of a door where the professor quietly murmured something that Harry was unable to make out the door swung open and the professor strode through the entry with Harry following close behind.

Harry realized that they were in Professor Snape's quarters and so he took the opportunity to look around. From their interactions so far, Harry had expected pickled animals, maybe even pickled students. So he was surprised to find himself in a cozy sitting room decorated in shades of blue and cream with the walls and furniture accented by dark woods.

"Tea Potter?" Harry was terrified to accept and terrified to refuse so he chose the option that would give his hands something to do. "Please, sir."

Harry typically prided himself at being able to read people; it was a necessary skill he had acquired living with the Dursley's. Professor Snape, though, was incredibly hard to read and so Harry had no idea how to handle the situation he found himself in.

Severus too, was finding himself out of his element. On one hand, he was furious at the boy for not recognizing his own mother. Did his arrogance have no bounds? On the other hand, he found it hard to believe that a child would willingly deny having any knowledge of his own mother. Combined with Lily's mournful reaction to her son's ignorance, Severus was left with no choice but to believe that the boy truly had no idea what his mother looked like.

Severus tapped an end table with his wand and a simple tea service appeared. He then prepared himself for a grueling and painfully awkward conversation, passed Harry a cup of tea, and began, "Tell me, Potter, you have seen and heard that woman in the classroom before and yet you have no knowledge as to her identity. Why is that?"

Harry, unsure of what he had just been asked, answered as best he could. "She has sang and whispered to me for the most part, and she has helped me out a few times, but she has never told me her name or anything like that."

"You never thought to ask?" inquired Severus. "Well, we just never interacted like that. I never had the chance to ask her."

"Hmm, so she sang and whispered to you? What would she say?" Severus watched as Harry blushed deeply and stammered," It is a bit private, sir"

Severus was beginning to lose his non-existent patience and was preparing a scathing retort when the bottles and glasses in his liquor cabinet began to rattle. 'She certainly knows how to get a man's attention.' Reigning in his temper, Severus continued, "Alright then, you said you saw her a few times, can you tell me about that?"

"Well, one time she made a scary dog appear and chase my cousin and his friend away when they were Harry hunting." The boy had obviously said more than he intended because the blush had returned. Severus merely filed away the term 'Harry hunting' for future contemplation.

"Were there any other incidents where your friend appeared Mr. Potter?"

Harry began slowly "Um, she saved me from falling down the stairs once. Oh!" The boy obviously remembered something and continued. "That is how I know she is a witch. After she saved me from falling, she pointed a wand at my Uncle and cast a spell."

Severus frowned, 'that is unexpected'. "What spell was it Mr. Potter?" "I am not really sure, I haven't learned it yet. It sounded like 'oblivion' though."

Intrigued, Severus asked "Obliviate?" "Yes!" Harry practically vibrated with excitement. "What does it mean?"

Severus answer, "Obliviateremoves bits of memory from the person it is cast upon." Harry nodded. "That makes sense, I reckon. Uncle Vernon looked really confused after she cast it and he didn't seem to remember the last few minutes."

"Why would she obliviateyour Uncle, Potter." "Um, probably so that he wouldn't remember that I didn't fall down the stairs."

"Wouldn't he be happy that you didn't fall down the stairs?" Severus asked as he tilted his head to the side, as if he were integrating all of the different bits of information together. Harry simply shrugged his shoulders and stared at his feet.

Biting back a retort, Severus sighed, closed his eyes, and pinched the bridge of his nose. When he looked up, he saw the image of Lily flickering into view behind Harry, just long enough to give Severus a cocky smile. 'Yes, yes woman, I can be taught. I will not insult your son anymore; my glassware cannot handle the consequences.'

"Sir" Harry spoke up, "You said you know who she is, could you tell me?"

Severus sighed; he noted that he had been doing that a lot during this conversation. "Potter. Harry, that woman is Lily Potter, your mother"

Harry was hit by a wave of dizziness as all of the blood rushed from his head. "My mother?"

"Yes. Your mother has apparently stayed with you in spirit. I have yet to ascertain the how's and why's, but I do intend to study the matter further." Severus winced internally at how clinical his response sounded, but there was nothing for it now.

Harry barely heard anything his professor said after he learned that his friend was really his mother. So many thoughts flooded his mind that his eleven year old brain could not keep up. He was in awe if the fact that she had stayed with him his whole life and had been looking out for him during the worst moments of his life. It was due to her that he knew someone cared about him and that knowledge had always given him the courage to face the day. Now he wanted more than anything to have a real conversation with his friend, no, his mother! Then he was struck by an almost overwhelming anger. The fact that he was so clueless about his own parents that he did not even realize that the ghostly presence always with him had been his mother. He did not think that he could ever hate his aunt and uncle more than he did at that very moment.

Severus watched the myriad of emotions play across his students face. He could not even begin to fathom what the boy was thinking; so far he would guess a combination of joy, longing, and surprisingly, anger. He noted to himself that he would have to investigate the reason for the anger later.

"Harry, you truly had no idea that she was your mother? Didn't you recognize her from pictures?" The fact that he now willingly referred to the Potter Spawn as Harry was not lost on him.

Much to Severus' surprise, Harry very nearly sneered and with bitterness heavy in his voice replied, "I have neverseen a picture of my mother." Harry snorted and continued,"I didn't even know how she died until Hagrid told me when he rescued me from my relatives. Until then, I thought my parents had died in a car crash."

Flabbergasted, Severus remarked "Apparently Petunia is still her sweet, charming self."

"Sir? You know my Aunt Petunia."

Although the conversation was beginning to get much too personal for Severus' comfort, he felt he should respond lest Lily decide to break something else and deprive him of the fire-whiskey he was so looking forward to. "I knew your mother when we were children, and unfortunately, I knew 'Tuney' by proxy. Needless to say, Petunia and I did not get along."

Harry's lip quirked at that, "She does seem to have that affect on people".

"That she does." Seeing that it was nearing curfew, Severus decided that it would be bet to send Harry on his way. Both Harry and he needed time to digest the information they had gathered. "Alright Potter, you had best return to your dormitory. I will arrange a meeting for us after I have had time to further investigate this phenomenon."

Harry nodded. He momentarily thought about mentioning his mother's warning about Professor Quirrell but decided against it. Instead, he asked, "You are not going to try to make her go away, are you sir?"

Severus' expression softened marginally, and murmered, "No Harry, I would never try to make her go away. Head back to your dormitory now, I imagine you could use the rest."

Harry nodded, then looked straight at his professor and said in a very solemn and earnest voice, "Thank you, Professor", before turning and slipping out the door.

Throughout the conversation, Severus had picked up little kernels of knowledge that were leading him to believe that Harry's childhood was nothing like he would have assumed. The very fact that his own Aunt- his mother's sister for Merlin's sake- had lied about his parents' deaths sent up a red flag. Even more telling was the fact that Lily had felt the need to watch over her son for ten years. The sheer amount of will that it would have taken to ground her spirit so solidly in the physical world was absolutely staggering. She had to have known that she would be needed; fear of her son being denied treats and admiration would not have been enough to hold her here. She must have been in fear for his life even after the immediate threat of the Dark Lord had passed.

The only thing that Severus knew was that this was one mystery he was determined to solve.

Chapter 6: Meetings

Severus Snape considered himself to be a logical man. So while he had been prepared to loathe the Potter boy, he could not ignore the fact that Harry was much different than what he expected. Even if one ignored the fact that the boy was being followed around by his dead mother.

Standing in the middle of his sitting room with his back to the hearth, Severus felt unsure of himself and lost when it came to Harry. The figurative rug had just pulled out from under him and he found himself experiencing a forced paradigm shift.

Severus rubbed the palms of his hands over his eyes and murmured, "What to do, Lily, what to do."

In a voice that sounded as if it was being tuned in through the Wizarding Wireless, Lily answered his offhanded question, "Help him, Severus."

Severus’ head jerked up at the sound of the voice and watched as the image of Lily flickered in and out in the space in front of him, then settled to a slightly less than solid rendition. She was exactly how he remembered her; deep auburn red hair and green eyes that now took on an unearthly glow. He couldn't help but whisper, "Lily".

The ghostly image smiled and said in a now clear voice, "Yes Sev, it's me."

"Why did you stay behind like this, Lily? It was because of Harry, yes?"

Lily nodded. "At first, James and I were waiting for him, thinking that he would be joining us. When Voldemort died instead, I wanted to make sure that Harry would be alright. James moved on as soon as Dumbledore," she grimaced and practically spit as she said the name of the Headmaster, "said that he would take him to Petunia".

Severus shook his head. "I never understood why Albus left him with your sister. She was an unpleasant child. I can't imagine she was much nicer as an adult."

Lily scowled and clenched her fists as her image flickered rapidly. With a furious hiss she replied, "No, she wasn't much better. She hurt my baby Sev! She shoved him in a closet, only took him out when she wanted him to work like a blasted house elf, and fed him just enough to keep him alive. Did you see how small he was? James and I were nowhere near that small at his age.

Severus watched as Lily paced to and fro while she ranted, her chest heaving. He was very curious about the fact that she was breathing heavy; the mundane in and out of her ribs seemed quite odd since she obviously had no need for breath. Even though he had been hearing her voice for weeks now, seeing her pacing in front of him was utterly surreal.

He pondered what Lily had just revealed to him. She was right; Harry was only about the size of an eight or nine year old and did not have an ounce of baby fat on him. Severus wanted to ask her what she meant by 'shoving him in a closet', but he thought it best to allow her time to calm down. Lily always had a fiery temper, but now upon speaking of Petunia and Dumbledore, she seemed almost unhinged.

"First of all," Severus began, ”he needs to see Poppy, tomorrow. She and I will work on a potion series to help his nutritional deficiencies and hopefully help his body catch up in terms of height and muscular development. Then I will talk to Dumbledore and see where we can go from there. He obviously cannot be returned to Little Whinging."

Lily snorted. "You would think that, wouldn't you. I doubt the wise," here she raised her eyebrows in a mockery of sincerity, “and wonderful headmaster will be so accommodating. He has already left my son there for ten years, what's another seven. It is for the greater good after all".

The sarcasm in Lily's voice was hard for Severus not to miss and he couldn't help but wonder what Lily had overheard so far to make her react in this fashion. He decided to talk to the Headmaster, along with Minerva since she was Potter's Head of House, and then go from there. He thought it prudent to be armed with as much information as possible before further angering the already volatile specter of Lily Evans.

"Alright Lily, I am going to see what I can do for Harry. I don't know what I will be able to accomplish but I can promise that Harry will not be returning to Privet Drive."

Lily smiled darkly and replied "Good luck Severus. I will be watching." With those parting words, she flickered out of existence, leaving behind a wary and thoughtful potions' master.

~HPHPHP~

The next morning, Severus put his owl to work by arranging  for Harry Potter to meet him in the infirmary. He warned Poppy of their arrival, and arranged a meeting between himself, Minerva and Albus for afternoon tea. He wasn’t sure which meeting he was looking forward to the least.

At the appointed time of ten o’clock in the morning, Severus came upon Harry Potter standing in front of the infirmary, staring at the door, gnawing on his thumb in his obvious nervousness.  The small, messy-haired boy obviously had not slept much the night before judging by the dark circles under his eyes.  

“Mr. Potter, if you are quite finished in attempting to chew off your appendages, we can go in.”

“Sir, why am I here, I am not hurt. Did I do something wrong?” Harry asked.

“Of course not, Mr. Potter; I would just like to get an accurate view on the state of your health. To be honest, you are much too small for your age and I hope to remedy that.”

Severus knew that he was a trifle too honest when he saw the boy cringe, but there was nothing for it. He motioned for Harry to follow and led him into the infirmary where he greeted Poppy.

 As always, the infirmary was the picture of efficiency. The line of beds against each wall all looked exactly the same. Headboards pressed against the wall with crisp sheets tucked neatly under the mattress with perfect hospital corners that only a bed-making spell could produce.  Sunlight trickled in through the windows, giving the infirmary a peaceful appearance and softening the harsh, sterile atmosphere.

The medi-witch gave Severus an inquiring look and stated, “I was surprised to get your owl this morning Professor, particularly since it concerned Mr. Potter.

Poppy was treated to Severus’ best sneer which she obligingly ignored, and nodded when he replied, “Humor me, Poppy.”

“Well then,” she said to the nervous boy, “come this way Harry and hop up on the bed. That’s a good, lad.”

Severus noted the faint tremor that ran along the boys limbs as he clambered onto the bed. The side of the boy’s thumb immediately made its way back between his teeth and his feet dangled off the side of the bed. Severus made his way to the foot of the bed as Poppy took position on Harry’s left side.

“Alright now Harry,” started Poppy as Severus saw her take in the boy's nervous demeanor, “you don’t have to do anything for the examination. Don’t fret about pain, the most you will feel is a little tingle if the spell finds something out of the ordinary. Nothing to worry about.”

Poppy gave Harry a gentle smile as she murmured a spell and twisted her wand around Harry’s head. A faint, shimmering light emerged from Poppy’s wand quickly drifted from the top of Harry’s head to his toes.  Much to her shock, Harry’s body immediately stiffened and he let out an ear piercing shriek.

Severus was standing at the foot of Harry’s bed, speculating what the diagnostic scan would reveal, when he heard Harry scream. Severus stalked to the side of the bed as he hissed, “What the Hell is going on, woman?”

Poppy swept in front of Harry and pushed her open hand against Severus’ chest, stopping him in mid-stride. “Don’t touch him, Severus. His nerves are overloaded. It should be almost done now. There is obviously a lot you are not telling me!”

Just as she finished her accusatory comment, Harry stopped shrieking, his eyes rolled back in his head and he fell over backwards. Poppy expertly caught him before he could fall too far backwards towards the bed. She then gently swung his feet around onto the bed with her right arm and used her left to lift Harry’s head onto the pillow . As Severus stood with a hand scrubbing over his mouth watching her, he began to understand why Lily’s spirit had remained behind to watch over Harry.

Poppy stalked over to a supply cabinet, retrieved a blanket, and frowned to herself as she walked back to Harry’s bedside. She gently laid the blanket over Harry and tucked it in snugly around his shoulders before snagging the floating parchment that had materialized out of the air.

“Well, he won’t be leaving the infirmary this weekend. He will likely not wake up for the rest of the day. Care to tell me why you really brought him up here, Severus? Because that scene we just witnessed should never have occurred!”

“What just happened, though, Poppy? You told him he might feel a little tingle!” Severus was dismayed at this turn of events. Not only did they cause the boy a great deal of pain, but they may very well have broken the fragile trust Harry had in them.

Poppy inhaled sharply. Severus watched as an angry flush spread across her cheeks. “That, Severus Snape, is what happens when a general diagnostic spell is cast on someone who is weak and has been hurt extensively and repeatedly. So, I ask you, what are you hiding from me?”

Severus deflated and answered, “I have reason to believe that he was severely mistreated by his relatives since being handed over to their tender mercies. Said mistreatment includes the excessive deprivation of meals. I had no idea that that information would be pertinent in your initial diagnostics.” Severus was disgusted with himself for not thinking to warn Poppy of his suspicions. As a potion master capable of making individually formulated potions, he knew the importance of being fully informed of a person’s overall health.

“Of course it is important.” Poppy’s tone had lost a bit of its rancor. “If he had had simple injuries, he would have felt a slight tingle at the site of the old injuries.

“For the spell to cause that reaction, I would say that he has had more than one bone broken repeatedly.  Plus, he has to be malnourished.” At that, she looked down at the parchment and nodded.

“Yes, see here, he has broken his index finger four times and three other fingers twice. I would say that someone at some point actually crushed his hand, more than once. There has been a break in the tibia and his jaw has also been broken-- more than once. That does not include all of the times that it has been dislocated, not to mention the amount of times he has had his shoulder dislocated and the plethora of sprains and strains he has had. And yes, he is a good stone under his minimum weight. No wonder he reacted so violently to the spell.”

Severus winced inwardly as he thought about what the boy must have experienced in his short life. “How the hell did this go unnoticed, Poppy?”

“Magic, Severus.”

Severus graced her with a withering glare. He was in no mood for someone else’s witticisms.

"I'm completely serious. His magic was likely in a sort of long-term crisis mode and healed his injuries rapidly and even kept him going on little food. However, the drain on his magical core has likely stunted his growth even more than it already would have been and I have no doubt that his magic is going to take even longer to fully develop, if it even does."

Severus was astounded. No wonder Lily is half out of her mind in fury. If she had to witness all of those injuries as they occurred, it is no wonder she is a bit touchy about her son.

"So, what do we do now?"

Poppy sighed. "We start immediately with an aggressive potion regimen. He needs nutrient potions tailored specifically for him to gain weight. He is a full stone under what is recommended for a child of his age. Then, in theory, his magic should be able to reach the appropriate level of development once it is not working constantly to keep him healthy and able to function. Early deprivation has a profoundly negative impact on a wizards' magic. Hopefully, beginning treatment now will curtail most of the negative, long-term side effects on Harry’s magic. Treatment now should also allow him to grow a bit, but I doubt that he will ever reach his full height potential."

Severus nodded as he looked on at Harry's unconscious form. There was a lot to be done to repair the damage done to the boy and there would be more to his rehabilitation than just potions. Of that there was no doubt. Severus never thought he would find himself contemplating the care and future of James Potter’s spawn. He realized, however, that this was also Lily Evans child. Long before she was the wife of James Potter, she was a dear friend to him and Severus realized that he could not walk away from her, or her son, now.  

He then raised his eyes and looked at Poppy, "I have an afternoon meeting with Minerva and the Headmaster to discuss issues relating to Mr. Potter. Care to join me for afternoon tea?"

~HPHPHP~

A few hours after his arrival in the infirmary, Poppy assured herself that Harry was still sleeping soundly. Nevertheless, she cast a monitoring charm just to be safe. She then made her way across the castle to join Severus and Minerva in the meeting with Albus.

 She did not know what to think at the moment. She wanted to be angry with someone, but she did not know who the best target would be. The Dursleys were the obvious choice, but there were others who should be held accountable as well. Surely, someone from the wizarding world had been keeping an eye on the boy?

She pulled herself from her dark thoughts when Minerva greeted her at the base of the Headmaster's tower. Severus joined them with a silent nod. She could not shake her somber demeanor as they entered Albus' office.  As usual, Albus was behind his desk with shelves behind him filled with innumerable whirling gadgets. Three plush chairs sat facing him and a tea service was perched on the front portion of his desk.  

"Take a seat, please.  Might I offer you tea?" The headmaster, as always, was very inviting with his congenial manner and twinkling eyes. "Severus, I was surprised to receive your missive.  I usually have to resort to extortion to be able to enjoy your presence in my office for tea."

During Albus’ greeting, Poppy followed Severus as he stalked across the room and sat in the chair to the right of the rest that had a perfect line of sight to the door.  Minerva chose the chair to the left and Poppy sat stiffly in the chair between them.  As Poppy waited for the silence to be broken, she wondered first and foremost how Harry ended up in his current state. His relatives must be at fault, nothing else could explain the sheer number of injuries. The question remains, though, how exactly did Severus get involved?

As usual, Poppy noted with some amusement, Severus decided to get right to the point, "I wanted to discuss Potter with you Headmaster."

"Really, Severus," interjected Minerva, "you have only had one class with him. what could he have possibly done already. In particular, I would like to know the reason for the detention you gave him."

Severus waved her off. "That is inconsequential now." At Minerva's irritated eye roll, Poppy waited in anticipation as he pressed on, "I became concerned that Mr. Potter's home life may be less than ideal and had my suspicions confirmed this morning when Poppy conducted a diagnostic on him this morning."

Poppy watched as Minerva took a moment to process that statement, and then with a knitted brow replied, "That is a serious claim Severus, are you sure?"

Poppy wordlessly handed the parchment from that morning's diagnostic charm to the Gryffindor Head. She knew that Minerva would be upset by what she read and hoped that Minerva would be willing to give Harry the support that he would need.  Minerva's eyes grew round as she read it, and she audibly gasped at one point. Poppy assumed she reached the part about the crushed fingers. Poppy herself cringed inwardly at the thought of the damage done to Harry’s hand. A child’s hand being was reprehensible and Harry had experienced the brutal act more than once before the age of eleven.

The Headmaster, seemingly oblivious to Minerva's reactions, smiled benignly and said, "Surely the situation is not dire enough to warrant such fuss." Poppy found herself reviewing the Headmaster’s words, not quite believing what she just heard. She was appalled to think that the Headmaster would be willing to trivialize concerns regarding the welfare of a child.

Poppy listened intently as Minerva spluttered, "Dire? Fuss? Albus, these people have practically been torturing the boy. I told you they were the worst sort. Why-".

"Please, Minerva, whatever has happened, it cannot outweigh the fact that the blood wards erected at Harry’s home-"

At that moment, Poppy froze and watched in shock as many things happened at the same time. Albus' voice was cut off when he was suddenly unable to breathe past the apparent vice-like pressure on his throat. No less than ten tinkling gadgets shattered into pieces no Reparo could ever hope to fix, and a near deafening 'pop' was heard. Poppy watched the headmaster intently as he struggled for breath. When he appeared to finally take a breath, the first word he gasped out was, "Lily".

At this, Poppy whipped around, following the Headmaster's line of sight, to look behind her. Poppy gasped in shock and from the sound coming from Minerva on her right, she could tell that she was not alone. What surprised her, though, was that when she turned to look at Severus, he merely smirked. Standing in front of them with an almost unearthly glow about her, was a very corporeal and angry, Lily Potter.

Poppy could not have spoken if she wanted to. Poppy had not seen Lily since she graduated from Hogwarts, but both the deep red hair and startling green eyes were unmistakably Lily. The most remarkable thing to Poppy was how corporeal Lily seemed. She appeared much more solid than any other ghost Poppy had seen and she was not floating but standing with her feet planted on the ground.

Lily quietly hissed, "How dare you? How dare you dismiss concern for my son? You left my baby with a self-obsessed bitch, ignored his plight for ten years, and then when someone else points out your error, you brush their concerns aside. There is no reason good enough for what you have done!"  As Lily spoke, the room grew colder and the air around her crackled with static sparks.

With the last three words, Lily's angry voice had risen to a shriek. Poppy winced and felt a chill pass over her that seemed to sink into her bones. The air around her felt heavy and prickly on her skin prompting her to rub her hands up and down her arms.

It was quite evident to Poppy, and no doubt to the others, that for the first time in decades Albus Dumbledore found himself speechless.

In a calmer tone of voice, Lily said, “I will leave you to your discussion then. If I stay, I fear Hogwarts would find itself short a headmaster.”

The sound of static increased as Lily then flickered out of sight. The room immediately began to warm and the pressure receded.

Poppy’s eyes darted between her colleagues, gauging their reactions. Minerva and Albus appeared to be shocked into silence. Poppy noticed that Severus seemed unfazed. He merely stared at the others in the room with dark amusement. Poppy narrowed her eyes in contemplation when she saw that Severus did not seem to be surprised, but amused. He knows something and I am going to find out what it is.

Finally, the Headmaster broke the silence and stated, “I do believe we have a problem.”

Severus, ever perceptive, replied as innocently as Severus Snape ever could, “Yes Headmaster, we do. But I wonder if we all agree on the source of the problem.” Poppy was confused until the full meaning of Severus’ words sunk in. She was dismayed to realize that the Headmaster was likely more worried about the appearance of Lilly Potter than Harry’s injuries. Severus and I are going to be having a long discussion after this.