"Harry!"

Harry felt himself being shaken awake the next morning. Opening his eyes, he saw Sirius, sitting on the bed. "Wake up," the older wizard said, his voice low. "Come walk with me."

Harry groaned, but allowed himself to be pulled up and out of the curtains of his bed. The rest of his dorm mates were still asleep, and a quick look at the clock said why. "Five o'clock?" he hissed at Sirius, who gave an apologetic shrug.

"I wanted to talk to you before breakfast. Here," he handed his godson his uniform and robes. "Hurry, before I get arrested for breaking in here."

Harry stopped buttoning his shirt and looked at him.

"Sorry," Sirius colored a bit. "Bad choice of words."

Harry finished pulling on his pants and shoes. He grabbed his robe and his tie, carrying them with him down the stairs, following Sirius.

When they were outside, Sirius started to walk down toward the lake. "This brings back memories," he said, grinning. "We dumped Remus in that water probably a dozen times a year."

"You and Peter?" Harry asked, his tone accusatory.

Sirius sighed. "Yeah. Your father and I. And Peter."

"You never told me about him."

"He's not important."

"He tried to kill me," Harry said. "Or at least have me killed. He seems pretty important." He crossed his arms. "And you never told me you were in prison."

Sirius frowned and sat on the grass, gesturing for Harry to come sit beside him. "It was no more than I deserved," he said quietly, looking at the lake. "It was my fault, even if I wasn't the one who went to You Know Who. I still betrayed you."

"The book says you weren't the real secret keeper."

"I was," Sirius clarified. "And then Peter and I thought that too many people knew it was me. We convinced your parents to change their minds and to make Peter the secret keeper. We thought no one would suspect him."

"But he was with You Know Who?"

"We're not sure," Sirius said carefully, "if he was at the time, or if that came later. But the effect was the same. I'm sorry, Snitch."

"He's still out there somewhere?"

Sirius shrugged. "We never found him. But he could be hiding." He plucked a blade of grass.

"Why did You Know Who want to kill me?"

Sirius shook his head. "I don't know. Your parents were very... vocal in their opposition of him. It's possible that he wanted to destroy what was most important to them." He put his arm around the messy-haired boy.

"People have always known me," Harry shrugged. "I thought it was just because I was there that night. No one ever told me that the whole world thinks I'm some kind of hero."

"We didn't want you to grow up with that pressure," Sirius said softly. "Your parents love you, kid. More than anything. They were trying to protect you. I want you to go easy on them when they come visit tonight, alright?"

Harry put his head on Black's shoulder. "I think I want to go home."

Sirius shook his head. "Everything is going to be fine," he soothed. "You may get some extra attention, but people will lose interest."

"I hope so," Harry muttered, doubting that it was true.

*H*P*

Harry had only caught a glimpse of Professor Snape at the start-of-term banquet. The look on the ghost's face gave Harry the feeling that the man did not like him.

The first Potions lesson, deep in the dungeons, proved otherwise. Snape loathed Harry Potter.

Snape floated in, ghostly robes billowing behind him with wind Harry couldn't feel. He started the class by calling roll, pausing at Harry's name.

"Ah, yes," he said softly. "Harry Potter. Our new... celebrity." His lip curled slightly.

Harry heard snickering from across the aisle where Draco Malfoy was sitting with his friends. He knew Draco... sort of. Sometimes the Potters ran into the Malfoys in Diagon Alley. Once they'd been invited to the same wedding. Every time Harry had ever seen Draco, the blond-haired boy had been a prat. Today appeared to be no exception.

"You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potion-making," Snape said smoothly. His voice was barely audible, the whole class leaning forward to catch every word. "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 sumes, 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."

There was a long silence, then, suddenly, "Potter!" Snape said, his voice louder now. "What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?"

Harry glanced at Ron, but the other boy didn't seem to have any more ideas than Harry. The Potters didn't even have a lab in their house. Occasionally, in an emergency, Lily would brew something in the kitchen, but they mostly relied on the Apothecary to supply their potions.

"I don't know, sir," Harry said softly.

Snape sneered. "Tut, tut- fame clearly isn't everything."

Hermione was waving her hand around, but Snape ignored her.

"Let's try again. Potter, where would you look if I told you to find me a bezoar?"

Hermione was waving her hand so hard now, Harry thought she might take off. He could see Malfoy and crew shaking with laugher out of the corner of his eye.

"I don't know, sir."

"Thought you wouldn't open a book before coming, eh, Potter? Your mother must be so proud."

Harry forced himself to look into the cold eyes of the ghost. He had looked through his books when he first brought them home, but his parents had assured him that the point of school was to learn. He didn't need to memorize everything before he started.

"What is the difference, Potter, between monkshood and wolfsbane?"

At this, Hermione stood up, her hand stretching toward the dungeon ceiling.

"I don't know," said Harry. "I think Hermione does, though, why don't you try her?"

Harry didn't know ghosts could swell with rage.

"Sit down," Snape snapped at Hermione, who's waving hand seemed to have propelled her out of her seat. "A point will be taken from Gryffindor House for your cheek, Potter."

Things did not improve from there. And by the time Harry finished with classes for the day and sat through dinner with no less than five people asking to see his scar, he was beyond ready when Professor McGonagall stopped him on the way out of the Great Hall.

"Mr. Potter," she said briskly, "your parents are in my office."

"Thank you, ma'am," Harry said, making a beeline in that direction, not wanting the rest of the students to know that he had visitors on the second night of school. He wasn't a baby, after all.

Of course, it would be hard to convince his mother of that, judging from the force with which she crushed him in a hug when he came through the door. "Harry-bear," she said, kissing the top of his head. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah," Harry shrugged. "Whatever."

James chuckled, running one hand though his son's hair. "Well put." He sat on the sofa in the office and patted the seat beside him. "Let's talk."

Harry sat on the sofa between his parents, staring at his shoes. "Everyone knows me. You didn't tell me that everyone would know me. And you never told me that Professor Snapes hates me. And I don't know anything about anything, and everyone thinks I'm stupid. And-

"Harry," Lily rubbed his back. "No one thinks you're stupid, sweetheart. And we're sorry we didn't tell you the whole story... but you are so young, and it just didn't seem like something you needed to know."

"Well I did," Harry said stubbornly.

"What's this about Snape?" James looked down at the younger wizard.

"He hates me. He asked me all these questions I didn't know, and he took points, and he called me ‘our new celebrity'." Harry looked back at his shoes.

"Too bad you can't punch a ghost in the face," James muttered.

"James," Lily shook her head. "Honey, Severus is just... gruff. He doesn't hate you, I promise."

"He probably does," Harry said despondently. "I'm the reason he's dead."

His parents were quiet for a moment.

"You're not," James said finally. "Snape wasn't trying to protect you that night, Harry. He was protecting your mother."

"Oh." Harry looked at Lily, who shook her head and hugged him again.

"Listen, buddy," James said gently. "It's going to get better. People are going to get past it, and Snape... he doesn't hate you. He hates me. Maybe we should dye your hair blond."

Harry snorted and shook his head. "You're cracked."

*H*P*

Lily Potter knocked on Snape's office door.

"Enter," the Potion Master's voice came through the portrait.

Lily stepped through, closing the door firmly behind her. "Severus Snape, have you lost what little is left of your senses?"

"Lily," Severus said, putting the quill in his hand on the desk. It was strange, really, what his ghostly body allowed him to do. It appeared that things that were central to his life remained in tact. He could manipulate potions ingredients and quills. But yet he could walk through walls.

"I know you hate James, but Harry is my son, Severus."

"Ah," Severus smirked. "Poor Mr. Potter ran to Mummy because his teacher didn't worship at his feet?"

"No," Lily snapped. "We came because he doesn't understand why everyone knows him."

"He didn't appear too bright in class today," Severus said, raising an eyebrow.

"Severus!" Lily glared at him.

"Merlin's teeth, Lily," Severus glared back at her. "Have you been living with him under a rock?"

"We were protecting him."

"From the truth? How was he supposed to handle today?" Severus would have gritted his teeth if they still had that capability.

Lily pressed her lips together. "It's not fair for you to hold a childhood grudge against my son, Severus."

Snape's eyes narrowed. "No, Mrs. Potter, it's not fair for you to reject me and then expect my help in issues that concern the family you chose. That's not fair."

Lily's lips were a bright-white line now. "You've always been impossible," she snapped, and turned on her heel, slamming the portrait behind her.

Severus shook his head and drifted through the wall into his little apartment. "No," he muttered to himself, "It's impossible to look at your eyes every damn day."

He'd lost the need to sleep, of course, but, out of habit, he still spent his nights in his bedroom. Settling on...well, kind of above, the bed, he picked up the book he'd been reading.

But Beyond Polyjuice: Lesser Known Uses for Boomslang Skin didn't hold his interest like it had the night before. After twenty minutes of reading the same passage over and over, he put down the book and went to the bookshelf, looking for something else.

Selecting a blue cloth-bound binder, he brought it back to the bed and started flipping through the pages.

Lily, about 12, laughing hysterically as the Snape family owl pecked at her head.

Lily, 11, with her Hogwarts letter.

Lily, taken from far away, celebrating her graduation from Hogwarts.

Lily and baby Harry. There was an inscription under that photograph. Severus, meet Harry! See you soon, Lily.

Severus sighed. He had seen her soon. At Order meetings. Making plans to hide the little family he wasn't a part of.

Sometimes, when Lily came without James, with just baby Harry, Severus played a game with himself. He stood too close to her. He held the baby. They spoke like nothing had happened between them.

But in the end, she always went back to another man with that man's child in her arms.