I've failed.

I failed to keep my promise to her; I failed to keep him safe. Leaving him when he needed me most, right at the end of it all. Ever since he walked through those doors 7 years ago, I've been protecting him, keeping him safe...keeping my promise.

I'm paying the price for it now though.

It's all dark here. Black, but different shades, like strands of magic woven together shrouding me from the rest of the world. Ahead of me is a mirage, a pool of emerald green gleaming in the distance.

I pull myself to my feet, and slowly limp across the cold flagstones, my uneven footsteps echoing in the darkness. As I journey on, the shadows around me start to recede, and brightness sets in.

She's right in front of me, but a veil of ethereal mist separates us. I can't reach her, I can't tell her I'm sorry, I can't...

So many things I cannot do...but then I guess that's the price you have to pay for failure.

Tendrils of mist begin to snake around me, pulling me further into its clasp. I reach out my hand, elongated fingers teasing the mist apart, trying to create a pathway, but it's of no use.

She's gone. The darkness sets back in.

I used to think, that once death had me within his grasp, the world's vice-like grip on me would loosen, and I would finally be free. I used to dream of the day when the chains would unshackle, clinking as they fell to the floor. But now that day has come, and they still remain, testament to my mistakes and my crimes.

I can remember the terror and the screaming, the horror on people's faces, the tears streaming like rivers down faces. Haunting me each night, like a never-ending film. By god, I hope I'm dreaming, because if this was the afterlife, I would rather be living.

Suddenly the scene changes and I'm alone in an empty room, shrouded in white. Below me I see the damage, the ruins of the world I left behind...

Heaps of rubble piles up in the distance; blackened grass crackles underfoot; the skies darken. Remnants of paper smolder as they float to the ground, landing at the feet of those not lucky enough to have escaped.

A man walks into the room. Dressed from head to toe in bright, iridescent colours, he has about him an air of wisdom, as if he seems to know something I do not. With one gnarled and blackened hand, he beckons me to follow. Peeling myself away from the scene below me, I do so and soon find myself alone as the scene shifts once more.

A scarlet and black train stands before me, steam and smog rushing out of the funnel, masking everything else in sight. Rustic bricks are laid out along the ground, making elegant patterns- long since worn out by the troops of children rushing to get on in time.

A young man stands before me, the ghost of his past etched onto his face. Next to him, a woman- a cascade of copper red hair framing her face as she looks on to the child running around, tracing patterns with one battered trainer.

The boy runs straight through me; a constant reminder that I'm not really there. With a pained expression, the couple takes a look to the child and turn away, slowly disappearing into the crowds.

He looks up- the boy- and notices they are gone. Looking to me, I see the face of a child I once knew. Jet black hair, lightning bolt scar and emerald green eyes. Her eyes, masked by the face of a man I once hated.

Once hated...but not now...

And with that I realise this is not the end. I could return, atone for my sins, protect him once more-and with that thought anchored in my mind, I begin to fall to the ground, as the world takes me back- granting me the second chance I never truly deserved...

"Severus...Severus! Wake up!"

A voice calls to me from the distance. I roll over, opening my eyes as I desperately try to remember what had happened.

In front of me, Minerva Mcgonagall stood, tears making rivers down her face.

"He killed them...Severus He killed them, and now Albus wants to leave Harry with Petunia"

My face drops. Suddenly, I knew the reason as to why I was here, what I had to do to redeem myself, and make it up to Lily.

"He can't leave the boy with Petunia, she hates all things magical- he would be better off with the Malfoys than with her!" I spat, as I hoisted myself up off the ground and back to my feet.

"I've been watching them all day, and I agree with you Severus, they're the worst sort of muggles, but what can we do?" cried Mcgonagall, her desperation evident in her voice. 

"We must take him, and we must raise him ourselves, there is no other choice"

With one final glance to the picture of Lily and I on my desk, I fled from the room, jet black robes billowing behind me, heading full speed for Godrics Hollow.

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I know they say you cannot change your past, but as I looked on at the Potter household in dismay, I sorely wished I could.

I wished I had never called her a mudblood, never been enthralled by Lucius, never taken the dark mark, never told Him the prophecy.....

Where once was an immaculate garden, filled with different plants of all natures, now was a blackend mess. The walls had collapsed, rubble and debrie covering the pathway. The gate hung by a single hinge, as smoke danced up from the wreckage.

A child's cry rang out in the silence of the night, screaming for his mummy that was never coming back.

A numbness encased me, as my body forced it's way into the house, a single gasp escaping my lips at the sight of James Potter's lifeless body.

Turning the corner at the top of the stairs, I suddenly find myself in the nursey- face to face with her.

I fall to my knees and wept, tears streaming in rivulets down my face. I never stopped loving her, and here she was- dead because of me.

I regained my senses long enough to realise the boy was still there. I crossed over the room to the small cot, gingerly lifting to boy out. The mere sight of me seemed to calm him.

Collecting the few belongings that remained undamaged, I left the room, making one final promise as I did so.

"I know I messed up last time Lily, but I swear- I will keep the boy safe. I will keep Harry safe"

So it was within a haze of tears that I apparated away, leaving behind the woman I had always loved and the man I used to hate. 

Voldemort was not a very happy man. In all honesty, nobody with an ounce of sanity left could ever have called him happy, but at this precise moment he was less that happy.

Voldemort was furious.

10 years ago, he was banished by a mere baby, living in spirit form until his faithful servant Wormtail found him a few years later.

Together, they had created an ambush for the latest DADA teacher- Quirinus Quirrell.

And so the duo made their way back to Hogwarts, with the story of an adverse meeting with vampires in Albania firmly implanted in his mind.

But now, as he sat at the head table, overlooking the great hall, Voldemort noticed something amiss...

The Potter boy was no longer a Potter...but a Snape.

How dare he, Severus Snape, his most loyal servant, leave his servitude in order to raise his mortal enemy! Did the coward not understand, once a deatheater, always a deatheater!

He would get his revenge, and when he did...why, poor Severus would be begging for mercy.

With a malicious laugh, He turned his attention back to the sorting, evil plans fforming in  the back of his mind...

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 Severus sat at the head table, proudly looking on as his son was sorted. Not many parents got this honour, and he was immensly grateful for it.

"Snape, Harry" called out Mcgonagall, as his boy climbed up the steps and onto the platform.

The room fell silent, all anticipating what house the boy-who-lived would be in. The minutes dragged on and on, until finally the hat cried out "GRYFFINDOR!"

The table at the far end of the hall erupted into a splendor of scarlet and gold as Harry rushed over to join them.

Severus, although a bit downheartend that the boy he classed as his son wasn't in his house, was no less happier for Harry as he watched the child go into the safe hands of Mcgonagall.

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Harry climbed uo the steps leading to the platform, and anxiously allowed the hat to be placed on his head.

Although Severus had sat him down earlier, and explained that it didn't matter where the hat placed him, he would be no less proud of Harry if he was in Slytherin or Gryffindor.

"I see potential here for good, but also cunning and the powers of self-preservation. There is a loyalty here that I do not see in many of your comrades.....but also a thirst for knowledge that cannot be quenched. But alas, where can I put you! Where will you thrive, without threat or hinderance, with others that will help you do the things you must. You are one difficult young wizard Mister Potter- or rather Snape as it is now- but whilst I do believe Slytherin would help you on your way to greatness...BETTER BE GRYFFINDOR!"

Heaving a sigh of relief, Harry made his way to the furthest table, the largest grin on his face. A single look to the head table showed that despite being an ibecillic gryffindor, Severus was still proud of him.

And that's all that mattered to him right there, right then. 

Harry had been wandering the castle for what seemed like hours before he finally made it to dinner on the first night. He had gotten lost on the way back to gryffindor tower, and had ended up in a part of Hogwarts he had never encountered before.

He was in a long thin room, adorned in cobwebs and dust, the floorboards creaking as he wandered down the room. A hissing noise came from somewhere to his left, and as he turned, he caught sight of an elegant man, cloaked in fine emerand silk trimmed with golden thread. His hair was pure white, and he seemed to have an almost vacant expression on his face as he hissed to himself.

"Salazar Slytherin!" Harry gasped to himself, as the charecter in the frame swung round to face him.

"Why, it's been many a year since  a young hatchling has found me here- what brings you here?"

"I-I-I'm afraid I got lost, and somehow ended up here!" stuttered Harry, lost for words when face to face with one of the four founders.

"Well, I'm sure you want to get out of this dusty attic one day, but alas, so do I. Since you are lost, and I built this place, my suggestion is that you dust me off, and I will guide you back to the great hall- so shall we?" proposed Salazar, a twinkiling in his eyes not unalike the headmasters.

Lost for words, and unable to string together a coherent scentence, Harry simply nodded, picked up the painting, and continued on his journey, with the founder guiding the way.

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"Where the devil is the boy?" thought Severus, as he nervously scanned the great hall for any sign of the child.

He had never missed a meal before- hell, he had never been late to one either! But hen again, there must be a first time for everything...

The doors then opened with a crash, and a small boy wandered in, coated from head to toe in thick dust, accompanied by the long lost portrait of Salazar Slytherin....

wait...

THE LONG LOST PORTRAIT OF SALAZAR SLYTHERIN!!

Severus leaped up from his seat and ran down the length of the hall, reaching the other end in a matter of seconds.

Noticing Harry almost collapsing under the weight of the portrait, he lifted it off of him, setting it down beside the wall. Turning back round to check how Harry was, Severus was surprised to see the boy leaping and jumping around in celebration that he managed to get out the attics!

"Harry...you do realise what you found here?"Severus asked.

"Yeah, a portrait of Salazar Slytherin"

"Harry, this is no ordinary portrait...you've found the only- and long lost- portrait of Salazar Slytherin..there's not a single other one in existence"

Severus was pacing back and forth across his room trying to figure out exatly how Harry had managed to find Slytherin's portrait. So many fully-grown wizards had attempted, but none had even found the attic that Harry had described, let alone the portrait.

Sighing heavily, he flopped into his pudgy armchair, and proceeded to stare into nothingness, his face a canvas of confusion.

"You know, there is a reason why the child managed to find me"

Severus jumped, visibly shocked at the unkown voice that seemed to be coming from nowhere. The students didn't know where his private rooms were, and the voice was not one he recorgnised from the staff either. Then it struck him- the painting!

Moving over to the corner the portrait was in, Severus carefully removed the dust sheet, turning the portrait to face him.

"What do you mean?" he questioned, worried that once again his son would be chosen for a fate he could not live up to.

Taking a deep breath- or as deep a breath a portrait could take anyway- Salazar bagan his tale.

"Long ago, when Godric, Helena, Rowena and I were just finishing off the finishing touches on the castle, a young wizard came to me. He was an artist, and offered to paint the four of us in return for just one of his paintings hanging within Hogwarts.

I was a kind man back then, and agreed to allow him to paint me, but he had to ask permission from the others before he painted them.

So in due course, we all had the portraits done, and life continued on as normal, until eventually we died, and the portraits were hung up in the great hall as a rememberance of the great founders."

"Within a few years though, a fight broke out amoungst the students of Hogwarts, and one of the portraits became damaged. The headmaster at the time deemed it too dangerous to have us in the hall from then onwards, and chose to have each portrait moved into safer rooms.

From then onwards, we were moved from room to room, until we each ended up in a secluded attic, warded against those who hoped to use us for personal gain, or lived in hope of damaging the portraits.

When your boy was lost today, he had no intention of finding my portrait, or harming me, so the wards became void as he wandered in.

After all these years, I can't say I wasn't glad he did find me, but I have one favour to ask of you- please, help me find the other founders"

With that, Salazar turned, and wandered out of the frame, leaving Severus alone in his thoughts.

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....Help me find the other founders"

The unknown voice carried across the room, to where a small rat lay hidden, in hope of gaining some useful information on the traitor.

After overhearing every part of the conversation, Wormtail knew exactly what his master could do to kill the traitor, be rid of Potter and become the great wizard he once was.

And so, with a malicious smile on his lips, the rat scuttled away into the darkness..... 

It was a few days later, and Wormtail stood shaking before the man he called his master, relaying the news he had heard hiding in Severus' quarters.

"Wormtail..you have done well to deliver thiss newss to me...but your wait hass cossst uss ssseverly. By now, the brat and the traitor may have already found the otherssss, and that will not do. You ssshall be punisshed for your idiocssy. Crucio!"

As the curse hit the shaking man, Wormtail fell to the floor, writhing about under the effects, begging for relief.

"Now, you ssshall do better next time, won't you? Go, find the other portraitsss!"

With that, Wormtail shifted back into a rat, and scampered as far away as possible from Lord Voldemort.

-------page break------

"Severus my boy, this is ingenious!" cried Dumbledore, as he looked into the cauldron. Inside, and iridescent liquid glimmered and swirled, inviting the man to look deeper and deeper into the mass of colours. "And you say a bit of this matched with the map can find anything I so desire?"

"Within reason. The item must be within Hogwart's boundaries, otherwise it will not appear on the map, but other than that, it should work flawlessly." replied Severus, looking over to where the headmaster stood.

Slowly pulling himself away from the cauldron, Dumbledore turned toSeverus, with a curious expression on his face.

"So, Severus, I assume I shall see you tonight then, with young Harry perhaps- say, 8 o'clock in my office?"

With a wink and a smile, Dumbledore crossed the room, reached into a box on the mantlepiece for the floo powder, and with a single step disappeared from the classroom, leaving a stunned potions master in his wake.

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At 8, the party assembled in the headmasters tower office, surrounding a large pachment laid elegantly n the table.

"Now, we all know by now why we are here, and what we must do tonight. Severus has managed to perfect the formula for Quod Perierat Invenitur, allowing us to reveal the location of the remaining three portraits quickly. Severus, if you would do the honours?" 

Beckoning to Snape, DUmbledore moved out of the way of the table to allow the potions master acces. Drawing a vial from one of the many pockets in his robe, Severus swiftly removed the stopper, dropping three shining drops of potion onto the parchment, followed by a series of intricate wand movements.

As he stepped away, the potion began to work instantaneously. The three droplets began to shake and swirl, drawing trails over the parchment until finally halting in three remote locations.

"I guess that is where we must begin our search then. If the Weasley twins and Minerva would like to begin the search near the upper levels of Gryffindor tower, Filius, Pomona and Mister Weasley take the trail leading near the kitchens, then myself, Miss Granger, Mister Potter and Severus take the astronomy tower, we should be able to retrieve the portraits quickly and safely."

Flitwick quicly charmed several pieves of parchment to replicate the trails of the potion, whilst the group prepared to leave.

"Good luck, and be safe. We'll meet back here in a few hours for breakfast"

With that, the headmaster slipped out the door, closely flanked by the rest of the room.

-------page break---

Fred, George and McGonagall were the first to locate the room the portrait was hidden in.

The room in question was a large, circular one, decorated in red and gold tapestries, all depecting moments of Godric Gryffindor's life. Scattered around the place were bits of broken and damaged furniture, along with belongings that were hidden years ago and slowly forgotten.

"On my life, I never thought I would live to see this room again" sighed McGonagall, as she wandered toward a chintz armchair that overtook a large section of the room.

"What do you mean professor?" questioned Fred.

"When I was a young girl, it was times of war and poverty. Grindewald was making his mark on the wizarding world, just as Hitler was making his on the muggle. Everything was in short supply, and I could no longer live in my hometown, for every night we were hunted by Grindewald's followers and hit by Hitler's bombs. In the end, the current headmaster- a good friend of my fathers- decided that Hogwarts was the safest place, and so he sent for families all over Britain that were in constant danger, and housed them here. it was during this time that I took to exploring the castle before I started as a student, and many of my days were spent conversing with various portraits in the room. Then, on the day after I was sorted into Gryffindor, I tried once again to find this room, but I never did again. I thought it was lost forever, but alas, it seems not."

Minerva leaned back into the confortable embrace of the armchair, reliving the happy memories spent here as a child. She had missed the feelings of saftey and security in her long years, and only here was she finally able to let herself free.

"Professor...I think we've found one-"

"He thinks we've found the portrait!" cried the twins,Fred finishing George's scenence for him.

Moving the piles of furniture out of the way, the trio worked for a good hour before finally being able to retrieve a frame wrapped in a deep blue silk. Pulling away the silk, the frame revealed the portrait of none other than Rowena Ravenclaw.