It came at midnight, but Harry hadn’t had time to read it until now, when the giant man, who had introduced himself as Hagrid, had gone to sleep. He wasn’t sure who had sent it when it appeared with a crack on his lap, but had hastily tucked it into the overly large pocket of his trousers just as the door had broken down and Hagrid had emerged.

He lifted the letter to the fire, which was still crackling softly in the grate. It looked old and yellowing, and the paper seemed to be of the same stiff material that his Hogwarts letter had been made of. He took a deep breath as he slowly began unfolding the paper. The first letter he had opened today had brought his news that had changed his entire world. What would this letter bring?

Unable to take the suspense any longer, he quickly opened the letter and looked straight to the bottom, where the words, Love, Lily were scrawled. “Lily,” Harry whispered to himself. Though he had only heard that name today, he knew that this letter was from his mother. His eyes roved back up to the top of the page to the date and he began to read the letter his mother had penned so many years ago.

Godric’s Hollow

16th October, 1981

My dear Harry,

As I write this, you are sleeping quietly in your crib beside me. Once in a while, you turn to your side and the blankets fall off of you. You are a restless sleeper, like your father. My darling boy, I hope with all my heart that you are never a recipient of this letter but in these times my instincts tell me that I need to do this. Voldemort is after us, and although we have taken precautions I fear that James and I may not survive. In my heart of hearts I know that you will because I will do everything in my power to make sure you live.

There is so much I want to say to you, but I’m not sure where to begin. Firstly, Happy Birthday! I have asked a house elf, Dobby, who knows your father, do deliver this letter to you on your eleventh birthday. Hopefully by then you’ll be ready to go to Hogwarts. I spent some of the best years of my life there, Harry. I studied magic, made friends and fell in love. What I have to say next, Harry, is difficult for me and I hope that you will forgive me for waiting so long to tell you.

I suppose it begins when I was nine years old and performed accidental magic. A boy from the neighborhood saw me and told me I was witch. At the time you might be able to imagine my reaction to that, but soon my curiosity was piqued and the boy and me became the best of friends. His name was Severus Snape. When Sev (as I called him) and I went to Hogwarts, we were sorted into different houses but that didn’t end our friendship. Friendship soon grew into more and by the end of Hogwarts, we had been dating for a few years. I will not tell you it was smooth sailing all the way. It wasn’t. Being in the house that he was in, Sev faced pressures from his housemates to join a man who we knew hated Muggleborns like me. Yet, we persevered and were married as soon as we left Hogwarts.

Times were hard in those days, Harry, and one didn’t know whom to trust. I could feel myself losing Sev to Voldemort and I didn’t like it. I tried to dissuade him but most of my attempts ended in arguments. Some months later, I realized I was pregnant with you. I was excited to tell Sev since I knew how happy he would be and I also hoped that a baby would finally make him realize what was important. Unfortunately, things did not go as planned. The night I planned to tell him about you was the night he came to me with the Dark Mark on his arm. He had joined Voldemort and I had never been more furious with him than I was then. I left him that night and said some things I’m ashamed to admit. I was young and foolish and I regret it now.

I pause here, Harry, to tell you not to judge your father too harshly for his actions. He had lived a difficult life and in his defense, his reasons for joining Voldemort were not like the others’. He is a man who is intelligent and principled and passionate, but there is darkness within him borne from the struggles he has faced that even I could not help him with.

After leaving Severus, I went to Albus Dumbledore and told him what had happened. To protect you, he advised me to pretend to be married to James Potter, who had liked me at school for a time. I believe he thought he could convince Sev to spy on Voldemort for him. I stayed with James until you were born and not long afterwards, Dumbledore told us to go into hiding since Voldemort was after us. So here we are, Harry, the three of us. James has always treated you like his own son though he and your father never got along. He loves you as his own, as does your godfather, Sirius. If anything happens to us, I know that he’ll take you in, though I worry about him. He’s so rash and impulsive, I fear he’ll do something he regrets one of these days.

I have so much more to say to you my darling but Peter’s here now, so I’ll leave you with a few parting words. Be brave and strong for me, Harry. Dumbledore once told me that there comes a time to choose between what is right and what is easy, and I pass this on to you. Always do what your instincts tell you to, Harry. They will never lead you astray. Be kind to your father if you meet him Harry, which I hope you will. He does not know that he is your father and I’m leaving it up to you to do what you think is best. I love your father and I love you and I promise you that one day we will see each other again. Since I’m not sure what you’ll call me as you grow older (you call me ‘Mama’ now. Maybe that will change to Mummy or Mum?) I will sign off in my usual way. I send you all the love in the world, my son.

Love,

Lily

Harry could feel tears prickle his eyes as he finished reading the letter for the sixth time. His fingers travelled down the page as if trying to absorb any essence of his mother left in the writing. She seemed to have loved him so much. It was as if all the love that had been denied to him from the Dursleys was right here in this letter. His mother sounded like an amazing woman: brave, loving and kind, the kind of person he had always imagined her to be. He had known nothing about her for ten years. She had been distant, merely a dream, but here was proof that she had existed, that the woman he had longed for the most as he slept cold and lonely in his cupboard had lived and loved him.

He traced over the names. James. Sirius. Other people who had loved him. Severus. He paused here. Could it be that the man was still alive? Could he really have another living family member – no, a father? Harry had always dreamed that by some miracle, his parents would be alive and would take Harry away from the Dursleys. If his father were alive, how would Harry find him?

Harry shivered as the fire began to die away. It was very late and he should rest for a while before the morning. He had too much to think about and he had a feeling tomorrow would be a long day. Carefully tucking the letter into his pocket, he drifted away, dreaming of a woman with green eyes who whispered loving words to him.

The morning came much too soon for Harry but his grogginess soon faded as they entered the Leaky Cauldron where he was accosted by a swarm of wizards and witches all wanting to shake his hand!

“Alrigh’ there, Harry?” Hagrid asked chuckling as he led their way into Diagon Alley. “Here we are. Firs’ stop’s Gringotts then.”

Harry followed Hagrid through the crowds, wondering if his father was anywhere among them. Then again, how would he know what his father looked like?

Harry decided to ponder the question of how to find his father later as went through his shopping list with Hagrid. “What’s next, Hagrid?” he asked.

“Yer potions supplies. Yeh’ll get those at the Apothecary,” Hagrid answered turning right into an alley then left into the shop with Harry trying to keep up.

“It smells terrible in here,” Harry commented.

Hagrid wrinkled his nose. “Think yeh can manage, Harry? I’m jus’ goin’ to stay here for a while.”

In the small shop, Hagrid’s large size would obviously be a hindrance Harry thought. “Okay.”

He made his way through the ingredients, equally fascinated and disgusted. As he scooped out beetle eyes from a barrel he heard a girl behind him shriek. He turned around to see her talking to another girl.

“Toad warts! This is so disgusting!”

Her friend nodded sympathetically. “I swear. It’s as if Snape makes us use the grossest ingredients in Potions on purpose.”

“Snape!” Harry gasped. The two girls turned around but Harry was faster and quickly made his way to pay for his ingredients before they could say anything.

When he and Hagrid were safely outside the hubbub in the Apothecary, Harry had a chance to think about what the girls had said. They had definitely mentioned Snape. If this Snape wasn’t Severus Snape, he could be some relation. Furthermore, the girls were obviously Hogwarts students, which meant that Snape could be at Hogwarts. He looked up at Hagrid and, before he could lose his nerve, blurted out, “Hagrid, do you know someone called Snape at Hogwarts?”

Hagrid chuckled. “Yeh must ’ave heard that name at the Apothecary. Professor Snape is the Potions Master at Hogwarts.”

“What’s his first name?” Harry asked with baited breath.

“Severus,” Hagrid answered shaking his head in amusement at Harry’s strange curiosity.

Harry, on the other hand, was a million miles away. His father was a teacher at Hogwarts! He had never imagined that it would be so easy to track him down. What would Severus Snape be like, Harry wondered. His mother had told him that he was intelligent. He must be if he was a professor, Harry decided. Would he still remember Lily? He probably would if they had been married…

Harry could barely believe it. His stomach was in knots at the thought. In only one month he would leave the Dursleys behind, go to the magical school his mother had attended and more importantly, he would have a chance to meet his father.

The next month was spent in alternate moments of excitement, apprehension and anguish. Harry had gone through all of his textbooks, especially his potions book that had become nighttime reading.

Before he knew it, it was the first of September and time for him to go to Hogwarts at last. At Kings Cross Station, Harry met a redheaded family who helped him to get onto the platform and put his trunk away. Just as he had settled down in an empty compartment, the youngest redheaded boy came in.

“Can I sit here?” he asked, “Everywhere else is full.”

The train ride was spent chatting and exchanging stories. Ron Weasley already knew a lot about Hogwarts from his brothers and was happy to share his wisdom.

“There isn’t a wizard who went bad who wasn’t in Slytherin,” he told Harry matter-of-factly.

“Do Slytherins and Gryffindors not get along then?” Harry asked, getting a sense from the fact that Ron’s entire family was in Gryffindor.

“Nah,” Ron answered, “It’s the whole blood purity thing. Slytherins only think pure-bloods are worth anything and Gryffindors don’t care about that kind of thing.”

Harry looked skeptical but decided to accept Ron’s imperfect explanation for now.

“Voldemort was in Slytherin, wasn’t he?” Harry asked, remembering what Hagrid had told him.

Ron flinched. Before he could say anything else though, the compartment door opened and in walked the pale, pointy-faced boy Harry had met in Diagon Alley, flanked by two beefy looking boys.

“So you’re Harry Potter,” he sneered, “I’m Malfoy. Draco Malfoy.”

Ron let out a small snigger and Malfoy turned to him. “Think my name’s funny, do you? You’re obviously a Weasley. You don’t want to make friends with the wrong sort, Potter. I can help you there.”

He held out his hand to Harry. Harry looked at him coolly. “I think I can tell the wrong sort for myself, thanks.”

Malfoy flushed pink. “I’d be careful if I were you, Potter,” he said slowly, “Unless you’re a bit politer you’ll go the same way as your parents. You hang around with riffraff like Hagrid and the Weasley and it’ll rub off on you.”

Ron immediately stood up, the wand that he barely knew how to use in his hand.

“It’s okay, Ron,” Harry said quietly, still seated. “You had better leave Malfoy.”

One of Malfoy’s cronies had begun to reach for a chocolate frog, but before he could, Scabbers the rat had latched on to his finger with his teeth, driving the three boys out.

“What’s been going here?” Hermione Granger demanded, entering the compartment. “You haven’t been fighting, have you? You’ll get in trouble before we get there.”

“We weren’t fighting, just Scabbers,” Ron mumbled. “Hey, how did you know him, Harry?”

After Harry quickly explained his history with Malfoy, Ron asked thoughtfully, “Why didn’t you get mad at him? He said some right nasty things about your parents.”

Harry shrugged. The truth was that Malfoy’s words hadn’t hurt him because he knew that Malfoy was wrong. And because he knew that his father was alive.

“You had better get changed,” Hermione Granger told them, “I expect we’ll be arriving soon.”

“Hogwarts is going to be brilliant,” Ron announced as they sat the boat that would take them to the castle.

“I hope so, Ron,” Harry replied as the boat turned to give rise to the beginnings of the castle.

Hogwarts was the most amazing place Harry had ever seen. He wished that his attention wasn’t so distracted by what was to come so that he could look around more.

As Professor McGonagall led them towards the Great Hall, Harry thought he was going to be sick. Not only was the sorting about to take place (Ron mentioned something about wrestling a troll) but also this was the moment he would see his father for the first time.

“Harry, are you okay, mate?” Ron asked, “Look Fred was probably just messing me with. I’m sure we don’t really have to wrestle a troll.”

Harry took in his friend’s worried face, a face worried for him, and managed a small smile. “I’ll be fine, Ron.” If all else failed, at least he knew that for the first time, he had a friend. 

Thoughts of his father were driven out as McGonagall explained the Sorting to them. Harry breathed in a sigh of relief. They only had to try on a hat.

When it was his turn under the hat, he heard the hat say, “Difficult. Very difficult. Plenty of courage I see. Not a bad mind either. There’s talent, and a thirst to prove yourself. But where to put you?”

“I want to make my father proud,” Harry thought, “even if it means being in Slytherin.”

“Ah yes, your father. He is indeed a Slytherin, yet I don’t think you care much for Slytherin. No. Better be GRYFFINDOR!”

The cheer was deafening as Harry took a seat across from Percy Weasley at the Gryffindor table. It wasn’t until after he was comfortably fed that he had a chance to look up at the staff table. His eyes scanned over the various professors, trying to look for some similarity between their features and his own. Harry had silky black hair that grew upwards and green eyes. Hagrid had told him that he had his mother’s eyes.

There were few male professors. The first he noticed was Professor Dumbledore. Sitting two seats away from him was a tiny old professor who was obviously not his father. A few seats away from him sat Professor Quirrell and next to him sat a man with greasy black hair, a hooked nose and sallow skin. Suddenly, the man looked up and their eyes met. A moment later Harry felt a sharp pain in his scar and brought a hand to his forehead. The man looked away.

His heart beating harder than ever, Harry turned to Percy and asked, “Who’s that teacher sitting next to Professor Quirrell?”

“That’s Professor Snape. He teaches Potions but he doesn’t want to – everyone knows he’s after Quirrell’s job. Knows an awful lot about the Dark Arts, Snape.”

It was him. It was really him. That man was none other than Harry’s father.  As he looked at him, doubts began to cloud Harry’s mind. Would Snape want Harry as his son? Harry, the quiet, awkward, skinny boy who no one cared for. No, he decided adamantly. He wouldn’t give his father a chance to reject him. Right then and there, Harry decided that he would do everything in his power to make his father proud of him. He would show his father that Harry was worthy of him and that he deserved to be his son.

The first week of classes was both intimidating and exciting. There was more to magic than Harry would have thought and Harry and Ron had gotten lost a quite a bit in the large castle. By Friday, they felt they ought to be congratulated for managing to get to the Great Hall without getting lost once.

Friday was also an important day for Harry since they would be having their first Potions class with the Slytherins. Harry hadn’t slept all night in anticipation, reading his potions book again to try to understand the techniques involved in brewing.

Potions took place in the dungeons and as they walked in, Professor Snape glared at them all intimidatingly. He was definitely not a teacher to cross, Harry thought as Snape finished his starting speech. He looked menacing in a way that was cold.

“Potter!” Snape suddenly barked, “What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?”

Asphodel? Wormwood? Harry had read these names in his book but for the life of him, he had no idea what the answer to the question could be. Beside him, Hermione Granger had her hand up in the air.

“I don’t know, sir,” he whispered.

Snape’s lips curled into a sneer. “Tut, tut – fame clearly isn’t everything. Let’s try again, Potter. Where would you look if I asked you to find me a bezoar?”

Harry remembered reading about bezoars. They could be used as an antidote to most poisons, but that wasn’t what Snape was asking. “I don’t know sir.” Harry’s voice was barely audible. Malfoy and his cronies were shaking with laughter.

“Thought you wouldn’t open a book before coming, eh Potter?”

Harry bit his lip and tried to keep himself from shaking. This was not how he wanted this class to go. Snape really seemed to hate him before he had been given a chance to prove himself.

“What is the difference, Potter, between monkshood and wolfsbane?”

Monkshood? Wolfsbane? They were the same thing weren’t they? Was this some sort of trick question? Harry decided not to say anything since he didn’t want to seem stupid if he was wrong. “I don’t know sir.”

Snape’s lip curled as he recited the proper answers. Harry kept his eyes lowered onto his parchment throughout.

The class did not get better. Harry read the instructions twice before starting and carefully prepared all his ingredients. Snape didn’t bother glancing at his work and instead proceeded to show the class how Malfoy had perfectly stewed his horned slugs.

When Neville Longbottom, who had been working close to Harry and Ron, exploded his cauldron, Snape turned his attention to Harry and snapped, “You – Potter – why didn’t you tell him not to add the quills? Thought he’d make you look good if he got it wrong, did you? That’s a point you’ve lost for Gryffindor.”

Harry kept his eyes fixed on his potion, tears blurring his vision for a moment before he managed to rein them in. The moment class ended, he rushed to his dorm room and sat on his head, pulling the curtains of his four-poster around and burying his head in his knees. Of course Snape hated him. Harry had been a fool to think any differently. This whole thing, Hogwarts, magic, what was the point? The one person who he’d actually wanted to meet loathed him.

Tears once again threatened to surface and once again, Harry had to push them back in. He couldn’t cry or he might never stop. Years of living with the Dursleys had taught him that crying didn’t solve anything. What should he do now? He had thought that he would impress Snape sufficiently in the first class and then would proudly tell Snape that he was his son. If he did that now though, Snape would probably just be disgusted, or worse, laugh him out of the room.

“Harry?” came a soft voice outside the curtains. Ron hesitatingly pulled back the curtains “Snape’s a git, Harry, forget about him,” Ron said gruffly sitting at the edge of Harry’s bed. “If you want, I can get Fred and George to prank him.”

Harry chuckled a bit. “No, don’t do that.” He thought about what Ron had said, about forgetting Snape. Could he do that? No one knew about his mother’s letter but him. He could go through Hogwarts with minimum pain if he just ignored the fact that Snape was his father. An image of Snape rose in his mind unbidden.

Finally he said, “I can’t forget about him, Ron. Snape is – ” He paused here. Could he tell Ron? Though they had only known each other for a week, Harry felt he could trust Ron Weasley. Nothing was stopping him from telling and it would be nice to finally be able to share his secret.

“Snape is my father,” he said finally.

Ron blinked at him a few times. “Are you okay, Harry? You didn’t fall and hurt your head did you? Maybe I should take you to Madam Pomfrey just to make sure.”

“No, seriously, Ron, he is,” Harry insisted. “Look, this summer I got a letter from my mother and she told me that Snape is really my father.” He explained the circumstances his mother had told him about.

Ron stared at him in awe when he was finished. “So it’s true then. Snape’s actually your father!” He fell onto the grass. “Your Mum really knew how to pick them, didn’t she? Why couldn’t it be someone like, I dunno, Flitwick?”

Harry made a face and sighed. “I don’t know what to do, Ron. Why does he hate me so much?”

Ron looked at him sympathetically.

“You have parents, Ron,” Harry said, “How would you make them proud of you?”

“They’re proud of Percy because he’s a prefect and gets good grades,” Ron muttered. “I don’t know Harry. They love Fred and George even though they make trouble all the time. I think it’s a parent thing. Maybe you should just tell Snape.”

Harry shook his head. “I can’t. Not yet.” Filled with new determination he stood up. “Come on, Ron. Let’s get started on homework.”

“But it’s Friday, Harry,” Ron moaned. Harry was already walking down to the common room. “Wait up!” Ron called after him.

Ron had to admit that starting their homework on Friday had been a good idea. By Saturday they were finished and on Sunday they were completely free while their other classmates had just started.

“I could get used to this,” Ron said as he stretched out on a sofa in the common room. Harry sat in an armchair flipping through 1001 Magical Herbs and Fungi. “Stop reading, Harry, you’re as bad as Hermione Granger. Let’s go explore the castle some more. I want to find the kitchens.”

“Alright,” Harry agreed with a long-suffering sigh, though he too was ready for a break. As they were leaving the Common Room, they nearly bumped into Hermione who was carrying a stack of books that went up to her eyes. Ron rolled his eyes, “See what I mean?”

The next week, the Gryffindor first years had their first flying lesson, unfortunately though with the Slytherins. The class started off well enough, until Neville Longbottom lost control of his broom and managed to sprain his wrist.

Madam Hooch turned to the class. “None of you is to move while I take this boy to the hospital wing! You leave those brooms where they are or you’ll be out of Hogwarts before you can say ‘Quidditch’.”

As soon as she left, taking Neville with her, Malfoy snatched Neville’s remembrall from where it had fallen on the grass. “Look!” he said, “It’s that stupid thing Longbottom’s gran sent him.”

“Give it here, Malfoy,” Harry said quietly.

Malfoy smiled nastily. “I think I’ll leave it somewhere for Longbottom to find – how about – up a tree.”

“Give it here!” Harry yelled, but Malfoy had leapt onto his broomstick and taken off.

“Come and get it, Potter!” he called.

Harry grabbed his broom and hesitated. He remembered what Madam Hooch had said; he definitely didn’t want to get expelled before he had an opportunity to talk to Snape. Besides, what would Snape think of his breaking the rules? He was a professor after all. No, it was better not to risk it. He looked up at Malfoy defiantly.

“Scared, Potter?” Malfoy yelled.

Harry ignored him and clutched onto the broomstick handle harder. The others looked between Harry and Malfoy, wondering what he would do.

Malfoy was getting frustrated at Harry’s lack of response. “Catch it then, Potter!” he called and threw the Remembrall, just far enough from the Gryffindors that they might be able to catch it if they ran.

Ron, who had the longest legs, began running towards it. Hermione, on the other hand, whipped out her wand and pointed it at the ball as it fell threw the air. With a swish and a flick, she murmured, “Wingardium Leviosa.” The ball began to float in the air and Hermione gently guided it into Ron’s open hands. The Gryffindors started to cheer while the Slytherins looked sour.

Their moment of triumph got even better when Madam Hooch yelled, “Mr. Malfoy! Come down this instant!” Malfoy, who was still in the air, jolted at the sound of her voice and brought himself down. “Did I not make myself perfectly clear,” Madam Hooch demanded, “I’m quite sure I said no flying. That’s ten points from Slytherin you’ve lost there, boy. Now we still have some time before the end of the lesson. Everyone, mount your broomsticks.”

“That was the most brilliant thing ever!” Harry exclaimed as he and Ron made there way back to the castle after their flying lesson. Harry had taken to flying like a fish to water.

“And did you see the look on Malfoy’s face when Madam Hooch caught him? And the way Hermione slowed down that remembrall? She’s not too bad I guess.”

“What’s McGonagall doing in front of the portrait hole?” Harry muttered as they approached the entrance to Gryffindor tower.”

“Mr. Potter,” Professor McGonagall said, “Come with me please.”

“Er, am I in trouble, Professor,” Harry asked uncertainly.

“Mr. Malfoy has come forth with some accusations that need to be corroborated,” McGonagall said, her mouth a thin line. “Mr. Weasley, your presence is not required,” she added as Ron started to follow.

“Miss Granger, if you too will come with me,” she said to Hermione who had been loitering behind them.

“Yes, Professor,” said Hermione.

Harry felt a sharp pang in his stomach. What was going on? What had Malfoy said? They were walking towards the dungeons now. Harry closed his eyes tightly as he realized their destination. Professor Snape’s office.

When they entered, a smirk plastered itself on Professor Snape’s face while Malfoy gave them a smug look.

“I see you have our culprit,” Snape said, looming over Harry.

“That remains to be seen, Professor,” McGonagall said, sniffing.

“Potter,” Snape snapped, “Malfoy says that you goaded him into flying his broom in spite of Madam Hooch’s orders. If he is to be punished, I don’t see why you shouldn’t be either.”

It was like the Dursleys all over again, Harry thought. He would of course have to take the blame for something he didn’t do.

“I didn’t goad Malfoy into anything,” he protested nevertheless.

“Just like your father,” Snape said softly, “Of course it is never perfect Potter’s fault.” He looked at Harry disgustedly.

“My father?” Harry whispered.

“That’s enough, Severus,” Professor McGonagall said sharply, “I have brought Miss Granger here to act as a witness. I am sure we can all agree that she will remain impartial.”

All eyes turned to Hermione. “M-Malfoy picked up Neville’s remembrall, Professors, and Harry told him to give it back. He didn’t listen and took off the broomstick. He tried to get Harry to go up after him but Harry didn’t listen,” she said.

“How noble of you to defend a housemate in his absence, Mr. Potter. Five points to Gryffindor,” McGonagall said. “If that is all, Professor Snape, may I give Mr. Potter and Miss Granger leave to go?”

Snape’s sneer became more pronounced and Malfoy lost the smug look. “Yes, go!” Snape said waving them off irritably.

“Good evening, Professors,” Hermione said before she exited.

“Thank you, Professor,” Harry said to McGonagall who nodded in acknowledgement. “Good evening Professor Snape,” Harry said quietly though Snape wasn’t looking at him.

Hermione was waiting for him. “I can’t believe Malfoy lied like that,” she said indignantly.

“I can,” Harry said drily, “he’s just like my cousin.”

“Well I’m glad Professor McGonagall sorted that out,” she said huffily.

“Yeah,” Harry agreed. He looked at Hermione from the side of his eyes. “Hey, Hermione, Ron and I might do some homework this evening if you want to join us.”

“Really? I – uh – sure,” Hermione said, turning slightly red.

“Harry, what happened?” Ron attacked him the moment they entered the common room. Harry quickly explained what had transpired in Snape’s office.

“That bloody git,” Ron swore. “Malfoy, that is,” he added.

“Er, by the way Ron, Hermione’s going to do homework with us before dinner,” Harry said brightly.

“Homework,” Ron groaned, “You’re ruining my work ethic.”

“Or lack of it,” Harry grinned.

“I’ll go get my books,” Hermione said brightly.

As Harry and Ron walked up to their dorm to get their own books, Harry said quietly, “I think I know why Snape hates me.”

“Why?”

“I think he hated James Potter. My Mum wrote in her letter that he and James never got along, and just now he said I was just like my father.”

“So he’s holding a grudge against you because he hated James?”

“Seems like it,” Harry said glumly.

“Don’t worry, Harry. We’ll make him see that he’s wrong about you.”

“Thanks, Ron.”

Hermione was already waiting for them when they came down. Ron said to Hermione. “That was pretty cool, what you did back there with that spell, Hermione.”

“Oh, well, it was just a simple Wingardium Leviosa,” she said blushing slightly, “We’ll probably learn that in Charms soon.”

Ron looked at her disbelievingly.

Harry felt he should have guessed that the combination of Ron and Hermione together would not be easy. Unfortunately, he realized it much too late.

“You have pickled newts eyes and pickled toads eyes confused,” Hermione said superciliously.

Ron flipped open his potions book and scowled when he noticed that she was right. He looked over at her work. “Why are you writing a novel? Snape only asked for six inches.” Hermione seemed to have written at least a foot.

“I found some more information that was relevant.”

“There’s a reason he asked for six inches. He probably doesn’t want to read any more.”

“Just because you’re too lazy to put in any effort, it doesn’t mean everyone is.”

“Maybe if you weren’t such a know-it-all, you’d have more friends!”

Hermione flinched at Ron’s words and picked up her books, stomping out of the common room in a huff.

“Why does she have to stick her nose in everyone’s business anyway?” Ron grumbled. He looked down at the essay he was writing and picked up his quill. Harry remained silent and went back to his work. A minute later, Ron slammed his quill down and stood up. “Fine, I’ll go get her.”

As Ron left the common room, he bumped into Parvati and Lavender who were giggling to each other about something. “Do you guys know where Hermione went?” he asked.

“If you can’t find her, she’s probably in the library,” Parvati answered.

Ron did indeed find Hermione in the library. “Hermione,” he whispered sitting down on a chair next to her. “Look, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to call you a know-it-all.”

“Well, if you want my help you shouldn’t call me names,” Hermione said, not looking at him.

“If I wanted your help I would ask for it.”

Hermione finally turned to face him. She looked bemused. “Then why did Harry ask me to do homework with you?”

“Because he wanted to be your friend.”

“My friend? Really?”

“Yeah. I mean it would be great if you could help us out with homework sometimes, because you’re so smart. But we really do want to be your friends.

“But why would you want to be my friend? I thought you didn’t like me.”

Ron looked uncomfortable. “I mean that was pretty great what you did with the Remembrall. You’re not that bad.”

“Thanks, Ron,” Hermione said rolling her eyes but giving him a small smile. The moment was interrupted by a small growl from Ron’s stomach.

“Wanna go for dinner? I’m starving,” he said, hopping up.

“Okay,” Hermione agreed. “What about Harry?” she asked as she picked up her things.

“He can meet us there,” Ron said, practically jumping around from hunger.

Hermione laughed as she followed him. As they passed by a classroom on the third floor, they heard noises from within and paused, Ron silently hushing Hermione. It was Quirrell.

“Hagrid l-lent a th-three h-headed dog to D-Dumbledore to guard the third f-f-floor,” Quirrell was saying.

“Three-headed dog?” Hermione whispered.

“C’mon,” Ron whispered pulling her away from the door as he heard footsteps approaching.

“I wonder what it could be guarding,” Hermione said.

As the weeks wore on, the trio had a lot to think about. The question of what the three-headed dog was guarding was ever-present in their minds. In the mean time, Harry’s situation with Professor Snape did not get any better. Not even Harry’s perfect potions and homework could manage to get past the barrier that Snape had set against him. In fact, all his effort got him were sneers of “show-off”.

Things finally came to a head one evening while Harry was scrubbing cauldron in a detention with Snape. Snape was grading papers at his desk.

Harry sighed, wondering how he could show Snape that he wasn’t like James Potter. He wanted to say something, but he didn’t know what. This was the first time he was alone with his father and he had no idea what to say. He thought about possible scenarios in his head. How about, ‘Sir, were you ever married to my mother?’ or even better, ‘Sir, were you a supporter of Voldemort?’ Harry gave a low groan at the thought.

Snape turned to glare at him. “What are you moaning about, Potter?” he demanded.

“Nothing important, sir,” Harry said quickly.

“You may have been spoilt by your family and Professor McGonagall but to me you are just a nasty little boy,” Snape said.

Harry’s eyes flashed with anger. “You don’t know me, sir. Just because you hated James Potter that’s no reason to hate me too.”

“Don’t speak about things you don’t understand,” Snape growled in a warning tone.

“What about my mother? Did you hate her too?” Harry said carelessly.

“Enough, Potter! Finish scrubbing that cauldron and get out of my sight.”

Harry finished scrubbing it, ignoring the pain of rejection and seething with anger the whole time. Snape didn’t look at him or speak to him. Harry reached for the doorknob, then stopped and taking a deep breath, turned around.

“I apologize, sir. I shouldn’t have yelled at you,” he said.

Snape finally looked at him.

“I just wish you would see me as Harry and not as James.” With that, he left.

Severus Snape sat at his desk pondering the mystery that was Harry Potter. He remembered going to Dumbledore at the beginning of the year and telling him that Potter was spoilt, arrogant and as conceited as his father. He knew even as he spoke the words that it was not true. Potter was unfailing polite, he was studious and hardworking, he defended those in need… Just like her.

Dumbledore had told him that the other teachers found him quiet, talented and likeable, an assessment Snape had scoffed at. He had already decided that he would feel nothing but hatred for the boy who had ruined his life.

And yet, he felt inexplicably drawn to the boy. All his actions suggested that, as Dumbledore had said, the boy’s nature was like his mother’s. No, Harry Potter was not what he had expected. 

Halloween was a time of excitement for the students of Hogwarts. The feast was widely anticipated and the decorations were said to be phenomenal. It was also an important day for the first years since they were finally going to learn levitation in Charms.

Hermione and Ron were paired up together while Harry and Seamus sat behind them. As they practiced, Harry heard Hermione say, "It's Wing-gar-dium Levi-o-sa, make the 'gar' nice and long."

Ron looked at her with an annoyed expression on his face, but then carefully enunciated in an imitation of her, "Wing-gar-dium Levi-o-sa." Unfortunately he was still waving his arms like windmills so the spell didn't take.

"Don't know how you stand her, Ron," Seamus said as he Harry and Ron left the class. Hermione had stayed behind to talk to Professor Flitwick. "She's a right nightmare, she is."

"She can be a bit of a know-it-all sometimes, but she's alright," Ron said.

"Hermione's our friend, Seamus," Harry said firmly.

They didn't see said friend for the rest of the day and began to get even more worried when they noticed she was not at the Halloween feast.

"Parvati said that Hermione's been in the girl's bathroom, crying," Neville informed them.

Harry and Ron looked down regretfully at their plates full of delicious food. "We should go get her," Harry said finally.

"Yeah, come on before I change my mind," Ron grumbled, standing up.

Harry knocked once on the girl's bathroom feeling incredibly awkward. "Hermione, are you in there?"

"Go away, Harry," came a shrill voice from inside.

"Come on out, Hermione. What's wrong?"

"I heard what Seamus called me. I bet you think I'm a 'right nightmare' too."

"Seamus was just being a git, Hermione," Ron said, "we don't think you're a nightmare. You're going to miss the feast if you don't come out. It's really good."

The door burst open. "Honestly, Ron. All you can ever think about is your stomach." Hermione stood with her hands on her hips.

Before Ron could retort, they heard a scream coming from the distance.

"What's going on?" Hermione said.

"Stay here, let me check," Harry said moving forward. He suddenly stopped dead in his tracks. "Ron," he whispered, "what is that?"

Hermione looked petrified while Ron's eyes widened. "I think it's a, a troll!"

"Run!" Harry whispered loudly to them, grabbing Hermione's hand and running down the corridor. When they reached another passageway and could no longer see the troll, they stopped to catch their breath for a moment.

"What is that thing doing in here?" Ron said.

"Look, there's Professor Snape," Hermione said pointing down the hallway.

Snape seemed to be slinking away to the staircase that led to the third floor. Gathering his courage, Harry called, "Professor Snape!"

Snape turned to where they were standing and began walking towards them. "Potter! What are you doing? Professor Dumbledore's express orders were to – "

"Professor, there's a troll back there, close to the girls' bathroom," Hermione said.

"The troll? But Quirrell said – " with a low growl, he started walking to where Hermione had said the troll was. The three exchanged a look, before following Snape. He didn't seem to notice. The troll had just entered the girls' bathroom as they approached.

Hermione shivered. "It's a good thing I wasn't in there," she whispered.

"Stay here," Snape snapped at them and slowly walked in to the bathroom behind the troll.

Immediately, Harry followed behind him. "Harry, he said to stay here," Hermione said. Harry ignored her and crept to the entrance to the bathroom where Snape was sneaking up on the troll. Harry motioned for Ron and Hermione to come closer.

A spell from Snape's wand shot out to hit the troll. The troll roared and turned around to see what had hit him. As soon as it saw Snape, it swung its heavy arm to try to hit Snape. Snape dodged out of the way.

"C'mon!" Harry shouted rushing into the bathroom. The troll had made a mess of the bathroom. He picked up a tap and threw it at the troll. Beside him, Ron and Hermione were throwing pipes and anything else they could find.

"Potter! Get out of here!" Snape shouted, as he made a slashing motion with his wand. A deep cut penetrated itself in the thick skin of the troll and it's attention diverted back to Snape. "Behind me, now!" Snape ordered. The troll looked murderous so they obeyed. Snape made a motion with his wand and the club, which the troll was poised to strike with, floated out of his grasp. The troll stared at it in bewilderment. It began spinning above the troll's head, faster and faster with the troll following it's every movement.

"It's getting dizzy," Hermione whispered.

Just as the troll looked as if it was about to collapse, the club dropped down on the troll's head and it fell. Snape began to turn to them but the troll started to stir again.

"Wingardium Leviosa," Ron said with a swish and a flick and the club began to hover into the air again for a moment before following heavily on the troll's head once again, completely knocking it out. He met Hermione's eyes and grinned.

Snape turned to them and, Harry wished he could be facing the troll without a wand. "What do you think you were doing, Potter! Did I not tell you to stay where you were? Are you deaf, or do you simply refuse to show your teachers any respect," Snape spat.

Harry backed down at the vitriol in Snape's voice before gathering up his courage and arguing, "It was going to hit you! I couldn't just let it do that!"

"I had the situation under control, Potter. I did not need you to 'save' me."

"What is going on here?" Their argument was interrupted by the arrival of Professor McGonagall, followed by Professor Quirrell. "Is that the troll?" she said, clutching her chest as she took in the sight of the troll with the club on its stomach.

"I managed to take care of it, Minerva," Snape said dismissively. "Unfortunately your Golden Boy and his friends decided to play hero and got involved."

McGonagall looked up from the troll and stared at a sight even more shocking: Harry and Snape standing in front of her, both with identical glares on their face. "Where is Albus when you need him," she muttered. She turned to the three offenders, "What are you three doing here when you are supposed to be in your common room?"

"It's my fault, Professor," Hermione said, "I didn't go to the feast and Harry and Ron came to get me. We didn't know about the troll until we saw it coming this way. We ran and found Professor Snape and he came here…" she trailed off.

"And they decided to throw things at a fully grown mountain troll," Snape added sarcastically.

"But why were they here with you, Severus?" McGonagall asked Snape in an undertone, unaware that Harry could hear her. "Shouldn't it have been better to have sent them back to their common room?"

Snape's voice was barely audible. "I did not want to let them roam the corridors unsupervised with…" Snape eyes darted to Quirrell.

"And taking on a mountain troll by yourself? Honestly, Severus."

"We still have company, Minerva," Snape scowled and nodded towards Harry, Ron and Hermione.

McGonagall turned to them. "I suggest the three of you head back to your Gryffindor Tower. Students are finishing the feast in their houses."

"Yes, Professor," they said and quickly walked away before Snape decided to take any house points.

"He was really angry, wasn't he?" Hermione said as they sat eating their dinner in front of the fire.

"Did you see the way he took down the troll? That was totally wicked!" Ron said, "And did you notice my Wingardium Leviosa?"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Yes Ron, what would we have done without your Wingardium Leviosa. Snape really doesn't seem to like you does he, Harry?"

Harry, who had been staring into the fire, jerked up at the sound of his name. "What?" he said.

Hermione patiently repeated her question. Harry and Ron exchanged looks. "Hermione, there's something I need to tell you," Harry began.

"Albus, I witnessed something very odd today," McGonagall told Dumbledore later that evening over a cup of tea in his office.

Dumbledore looked at her questioningly and she continued. "Harry Potter and Severus Snape standing next to each other with the exact same expression on their face."

Dumbledore chuckled, "I do admit I find it amusing rather than odd that that Harry would try to imitate Severus's rather unflattering facial expressions."

"That isn't what I found odd, Albus," McGonagall said impatiently, "When you look at them together, standing next to each other, Harry looks almost like Severus. There's a look about him that is just like Severus, though it's not obvious at first."

Dumbledore calmly continued to sip his tea. "You know something about this, don't you Albus?" McGonagall said.

"The reason Harry and Severus may look similar is because Severus is Harry's father," Dumbeldore said, putting his teacup down.

Minerva McGonagall choked on her tea. "Oh, dear," Dumbledore said standing up and patting her on the back.

"Honestly, Albus," Minerva said through coughs, "you shouldn't joke about such things."

"I wasn't joking."

"What are you talking about, Albus?" Minerva said in a hushed voice.

"Nearly twelve years ago, Lily Evans came to me and told that she was pregnant with Severus Snape's son. Severus had just become a Death Eater and I thought it prudent that the child be passed off as James Potter's to protect him."

Minerva thought she would have a heart attack if there were any more shocks today. "Does Severus know?" she asked.

"No, he doesn't. I believe Harry should know by now."

"Harry?"

"Lily told me of a plan to write a letter to Harry explaining his true parentage, to be delivered on his eleventh birthday."

"But shouldn't we tell Severus?"

Dumbledore shook his head. "It is best for these things to resolve themselves in their own time. I believe that Harry has a plan to gain his father's affections."

"His affections?" McGonagall said, scandalized, "This is not a time for you to stop your meddling, Albus. This could end very badly, for both of them."

"That remains to seen, Minerva," Dumbledore said evasively, petting Fawkes. "Now tell me, how were our three young Gryffindors involved in today's incident?"

Quidditch season started in November. Harry was very excited to see his first Quidditch match which was Gryffindor versus Slytherin. Ron had been explaining the rules to him but he felt that he'd understand them better after actually seeing a match for himself. Hermione's book, Quidditch Through the Ages, was actually very helpful when it was not being read aloud in Hermione's bossy voice.

The day before the match, they were sitting outside, huddling by the small fire Hermione had conjured in a jam jar when Snape crossed the yard.

"Potter! What do you have there?"

Harry showed him Quidditch through the Ages. He sneered. "How extraordinarily like your father you are. Library books are not to be taken outside the school. Give it to me. Five points from Gryffindor."

"What about my mother, sir," Harry said quietly as he handed the book over, "am I anything like her?"

Something flashed in Snape's eyes. "I wouldn't know, Potter."

Harry stared after him and he strode away. If Snape didn't even acknowledge that he had known Lily, how was he going to accept that Harry was his son?

The Quidditch match was even better than Harry had expected, especially because Gryffindor won. The look on Malfoy's face was priceless. When they reached the entrance to Gryffindor Tower still animatedly discussing the match, Harry said to his friends, "You guys go on. I'm going to get my book back from Snape."

"Better you than me," they said immediately.

Harry made his way down to the staffroom. As he reached the stairs closest to where the staffroom was, he heard a whisper behind him and felt a small jolt of pain in his scar. "Ahh!" he exclaimed pausing before the first step. There was a small wisp behind him, and a small push of air, and before Harry knew it, he was falling, falling before everything went black.

"Potter! Potter! Wake up!"

Harry stirred slightly.

"Potter, can you hear me? Open your eyes."

Harry slowly managed to raise one eyelid. A black figure knelt in front of him. "Da – " he managed.

Black arms swooped him up and Harry nestled into the black chest, breathing in the scent deeply before losing consciousness once more.

Harry was an unfamiliar bed when he woke up. He looked around for his glasses and managed to spot them on a small table beside his bed.

"Oh good, you're up," said a brisk voice. Harry saw that the voice belonged to the matron, Madam Pomfrey.

Harry immediately lifted the covers of the bed and was just about to swing his feet over when Madam Pomfrey came over to where he was sitting and pulled his legs back onto the bed. "Oh no you don't, young man. You have a concussion and you're going to have to stay here overnight. Now stay still while I call Professor Dumbledore."

Sighing, Harry settled himself back into the bed. He didn't have to wait long until Professors Dumbledore, McGonagall and Snape arrived at his bedside.

"I'm glad to see you're doing better, Harry," Dumbledore said, smiling at him.

"Yes, sir. Sir, may I ask how I got here?"

"You may. Professor Snape found you unconscious outside the staffroom and brought you to the hospital wing."

So it hadn't been a dream. Snape really had carried him. The man in question looked rather uncomfortable.

"Harry, can you please tell us what happened?" Professor Dumbledore asked.

Harry nodded, then winced. "I was on my way to the staffroom to get my book back from Professor Snape. I stopped by the stairs because I heard a noise." He paused here, wondering if he should tell them about his scar.

"And then, Harry?" Dumbledore encouraged.

"I – I felt something push me. Not a person, it was just… a push and I fell. That's all I remember."

"Dark Magic, Albus?" McGonagall whispered.

"Harry, from now on it might be prudent to travel with your friends to classes and such," Dumbledore said.

"Why Professor? Do you think someone might deliberately be trying to hurt me?" Harry said.

"Yes," Snape said bluntly.

"Severus!" McGonagall said, scandalized.

"There's no point in hiding it, Minerva. The boy's not an idiot," Snape said.

That was as close to a compliment as he would probably ever get from Snape, Harry thought drily. "Ron, Hermione!" Harry exclaimed as his friends rushed towards him, Madam Pomfrey behind them.

"I wasn't sure if you were done talking to Mr. Potter, Headmaster," Madam Pomfrey said apologetically.

"We were finished, Poppy," Dumbledore said, "I look forward to seeing you in the Great Hall for breakfast tomorrow, Harry. Good evening Mr. Weasley and Miss Granger."

Ron fell into a chair next to Harry's bed. "He knows my name," he said with a dreamy look on his face. Harry and Hermione laughed.

"So what happened, Harry?" Hermione asked.

Harry told them the details, adding that his scar had hurt.

"Your scar?" Hermione said frowning, "You mean you got a sudden headache?"

"No, it was definitely my scar," Harry said firmly. "It's happened to me once before when Snape looked at me during the start of term feast."

"And he brought you to the hospital wing. Do you think he makes your scar hurt?" Ron said.

Harry shook his head. "It didn't feel like him."

"Who could it be then?" Ron said.

"I don't know."

Dumbledore closely regarded the young man sitting opposite him. Severus had just finished telling him about how he had found Harry at the bottom of the stairs. He hesitated as he thought about what Potter had said next.

"And then?" he prompted at the man's hesitation.

"He – I think he mistook me for James Potter. He called me Dad," Severus said contemptuously. He had noticed that Potter mentioned his mother in his presence many times. Had the boy seen any emotion from him at her mention? Surely he couldn't have. Severus was very careful.

"I see," Dumbledore said, his suspicions confirmed. Harry did indeed know. "Severus, perhaps if you gave the boy a chance, you would see that he is as desperate for a family as you were at his age."

"And what about his relations? Or is Potter too good for his Muggle relatives."

Dumbledore gave him a disappointed look. "You knew Petunia. Surely you recall her feelings for Lily."

Severus had nothing to say to this.

"All I ask is that you look at the boy as his own person, instead of having your judgment clouded by the memory of James Potter."

Severus stood up. "I have papers to grade. Goodnight, Albus." With a swish of his robes, he strode out the room.

The next morning Harry woke up in the hospital wing, and reached for his glasses. As he groped for them, he knocked down something on the table that fell with a large thunk onto the floor. Quickly putting on his glasses, he saw that it was Quidditch Through the Ages. He flipped through the book, smiling at the thought that Snape must have put it there after he had gone to sleep.

After finally getting discharges from the hospital wing, promising Madam Pomfrey he would let her know if he experienced any headaches, he went down to the dungeons. He didn't think anyone ever willingly went to Professor Snape's office, even to ask him a Potions question. Summoning up his Gryffindor courage, he knocked quietly on the door twice.

"Enter," came a voice from inside.

Harry felt like bolting. If he ran, Snape might never know he had been here, he thought desperately.

"Enter," the voice came louder.

Taking a deep breath, he inched open the door. Snape was reading a book while a potion stirred itself in a cauldron on his desk.

"Er, Professor?" Harry said when Snape didn't seem to notice him.

Snape looked up. "Potter! What are you doing here? Office hours are on weekdays only." Hi lip curled.

"I'm sorry for disturbing you, sir. I just wanted to thank you for taking me to the hospital wing, and for giving me my book back," Harry said in a rush, holding up the book.

"After all the trouble you went for it, Potter, you might as well have it," Snape muttered.

"Professor, do you know who might have wanted to kill me?" Harry asked directly, hoping for a straightforward answer from Snape.

Snape paused. "No, Potter, I do not," he said finally, "But do not let your guard down."

"Does it have anything to do with the three-headed dog on the third floor," Harry asked, deciding to take a big chance.

Snape looked absolutely furious. "Potter if you have been on the third floor I – "

"I haven't, sir. Really," Harry protested. Snape was looking murderous. "I heard Professor Quirrell talking about it."

"Loose-tongued fool," Harry thought he heard Snape mutter. "Students are not supposed to know about the third floor, Potter. I suggest you forget about it."

Harry nodded. "Yes, sir." With that he left the Potions Master and went with Ron and Hermione to Hagrid's hut where Hagrid proceeded to let slip the name Nicholas Flamel.

Christmas was fast approaching and with that, the holidays. In Potions class, Malfoy loudly proclaimed, "I do feel so sorry for all those people who have to stay at Hogwarts for Christmas because they're not wanted at home."

Harry, who was measuring out powdered spine of lionfish, ignored him. He was just glad that he didn't have to go back to the Dursleys and Ron and his brothers were staying at Hogwarts too, so Harry was actually looking forward to Christmas for the first time.

Snape, who was walking around the classroom, stopped at Harry's cauldron. "Potter, what is the next step?" he demanded.

"I've left it on the fire for two minutes, sir," Harry said calmly, "then I'll add the powdered spine of lion fish and stir it anticlockwise seven times."

Snape nodded and moved on to Malfoy's potion. "Malfoy, I would suggest you focus on your potion. You are several steps behind the rest."

"I can still complete it on time, Professor," Malfoy boasted. Snape ignored him and moved on to the next cauldron.

"If that had been one of us, Snape would've given us detention," Ron muttered.

Was it just wishful thinking or had Snape told Malfoy off for him, Harry mused.

That theory was looking much less likely when Snape took points from Ron for fighting Malfoy when Ron had been clearly provoked. Even Hagrid had said it.

"I'll get him," swore Ron, "one of these days, I'll get him."

"I wonder why Snape likes Malfoy so much anyway," Harry muttered to Ron and Hermione as they entered the Great Hall behind Hagrid.

"Dad says Malfoy's dad was in You-Know-Who's inner circle. Didn't you say your Mum told you that Snape had joined You-Know-Who too? Maybe they know each other from there," Ron said.

Harry groaned. Why did all this have to be so complicated?

"By the way, Harry," Ron said, "Percy got an owl from Mum this morning. Mum and Dad say they're going to take us to Romania with them to visit Charlie, so we won't be here for Christmas. Sorry, mate." He looked at Harry sympathetically.

"That's okay, Ron," Harry said, "You have fun in Romania. I'll be fine here." At least he didn't have to go back to the Dursleys.

"You have plenty to do, Harry," Hermione said encouragingly. "McGonagall and Flitwick have assigned essays and we have a Potions quiz after break and it wouldn't hurt to revise Defense."

"Or he can have a relaxing vacation and do his homework on the last day," Ron stated.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "And you can use the library to research Nicholas Flamel," she added in an undertone, ignoring Ron.

Harry gave a weak smile. "I'll be fine," he repeated.

The next morning, Harry waved Ron and Hermione and the Hogwarts Express off, feeling slightly depressed at their departure. When he got back to the castle, he found Professor Snape waiting in the Entrance Hall.

"Potter, the Headmaster requires your presence in his office," Snape said. He turned around and swept away.

Harry stood in the middle of the Entrance Hall wondering why Dumbledore would want to see him. And where was Dumbledore's office anyway? Snape hadn't mentioned. Was he expected to know?

"Potter!" Snape's sharp voice interrupted his increasingly panicked thoughts. "Stop loitering and hurry up."

So Snape was supposed to take him there, Harry thought as he hastily followed the Potions Master. "Sorry, sir. You didn't tell me I was supposed to follow you."

"I thought it would have been obvious, Potter, seeing as I was informed that you had never been to the Headmaster's office."

Harry followed Snape to a stone gargoyle. "Chocolate frogs," he said and the stone gargoyle gave way to a winding staircase. Harry hesitatingly stepped onto the first step with Snape.

Dumbledore's office was incredibly interesting Harry thought, taking in the small instruments on the desk and some sort of perch.

"Ah, Harry. I'm glad you're here," Dumbledore said, motioning for him to take a seat. Harry saw from the corner of his eye that Snape remained standing at the back of the room. "Harry, it seems that an unfortunate situation has arisen," Dumbledore continued. "Professor McGonagall has been taken ill and will not be able to supervise the Gryffindors during the holidays." Dumbledore stopped here to level a blue gaze at Harry.

Harry waited patiently for Dumbledore to continue, wondering where this was going.

"Since you are the only Gryffindor currently staying in Gryffindor tower, I believe it would be more prudent for you to stay in the Slytherin dorms, under Professor Snape's supervision."

Harry let out a sigh of relief. At first he was afraid Dumbledore was going to send him back to the Dursleys. He nodded in agreement.

"Excellent," Dumbledore said, "Professor Snape will escort you to the dungeons. Your trunk will be taken to your room."

Taken himself to be dismissed, Harry stood up and turned to the door where Snape was standing with a scowl on his face. This was going to be an interesting break, Harry thought drily.

"Come along, Potter," Severus said as they exited the Headmaster's office. He looked over at the boy walking beside him and recalled his earlier conversation with Dumbledore. He had not been happy to be saddled with the brat.

"Why isn't Potter going back to stay with his relations?" he had demanded.

"I believe that is a question for Harry," Dumbledore had said calmly, "whatever his reasons are, he wishes to stay at Hogwarts during Christmas break and we will accommodate him."

Dumbledore had suggested once before that Potter was not happy with his relations. Severus's lips curled as he thought of Petunia. She had never gotten over the fact that Lily was magical and she was not. His thoughts were interrupted by their arrival at the entrance to the Slytherin common room.

"Salazar," he said to the blank wall which revealed the common room. Behind him, Harry rolled his eyes at the unoriginality of the password.

The Slytherin common room was definitely not as cozy as the Gryffindor common room, Harry decided as he took in the eerie green glow and leather couches.

"Potter, before I leave you here, there are some rules we must go over. As you are under my supervision, you will check with me before leaving the castle at any time. You will be back in the common room before curfew and I warn you, Potter, I do not tolerate rule breaking. Is that clear?"

"Yes, sir," Harry replied dutifully.

Snape looked at him suspiciously but merely said, "You will be staying in the first year boys dormitory. I will be most displeased if I encounter any problems later." Harry nodded and with that, Snape left.

Left to his own devices, Harry was not sure what to do. He went to the dormitory and noticed his trunk at the end of a bed that Harry was glad to see did not already belong to anybody. Sleeping in Malfoy's bed was just a sickening thought.

When Harry walked back to the common room, two girls from his year were sitting by the fire. They looked at him strangely. "What's he doing here? Does Snape know there's a Gryffindor in our common room?" one of them asked the other, loud enough for Harry to hear.

Harry decided it was useless to pretend he hadn't heard them. "Dumbledore told me to stay in your common room during break because there's no one in Gryffindor tower," Harry told them, "I'm Harry Potter by the way."

"We know," one of them said rolling her eyes, "I'm Daphne Greengrass."

"Tracey Davis," the other offered. With that, they went back to whatever they had been talking about and Harry decided to go visit Hagrid.

He stopped by to knock on Snape's door. "Enter," came the voice from inside.

"Sir, I'm going to go visit Hagrid if it's alright," Harry said.

"Yes, go on, Potter," Snape said irritably, "I expect to see you at dinner."

At dinner that evening, there were only a handful of students, Potter included. Severus was in the unfortunate position of sitting between Dumbledore and Hagrid.

"How was your afternoon, Hagrid?" Dumbledore asked, his eyes twinkling.

"Young Harry came ter visit me, sir," Hagrid said smiling, "he's a good lad."

"I hope he isn't feeling too lonely."

"No more'n can be expected without Ron an' Hermione. At leas' he's not with the Durlseys." Hagrid's tone turned uncharacteristically dark. "Nasty family. An' their lad, a spoilt pig if I ever saw one."

Dumbledore sighed.

"I r'member when I went ter give him 'is letter. Had to break down the door, I did. An' Harry was lyin' on the floor while that fat lug took the sofa to 'imself."

Severus had stopped eating as he listened to Hagrid. He had heard that Hagrid was the one to tell Potter about Hogwarts and wizardry but this was new.

"Tol' me his firs' letter was addressed to the Cupboard Under the Stairs." Here Hagrid was much too overcome and had to stop to blow his nose with his large handkerchief.

On his other side, Flitwick patted Hagrid's back sympathetically. So perfect Potter was not so perfect after all, Severus thought, unconsciously glaring at the child sitting alone at the far end of the Gryffindor table.

A lone Gryffindor in Slytherin territory, Harry felt at a loose end about what to do. He didn't feel welcome enough in the Slytherin common room to spend his time there and he didn't feel like going to the library to find Nicholas Flamel without Ron or Hermione. He'd already visited Hagrid, he thought as he entered the dungeons, ambling around as he thought of his choices. It was too cold to fly –

"Potter, what are you doing, aimlessly wandering around the dungeons?" Harry jumped as Snape's unmistakable voice broke through his thoughts.

"Er, nothing, Professor. I was just thinking of what to do."

"Bored, are you, Potter?" Snape said silkily. "I can think of just the thing to alleviate that."

Ten minutes later, Harry was standing at a workstation in the Potions classroom, brewing the cure for boils while Snape stood at the front of the classroom, brewing two potions at once.

"Sir, why would Madam Pomfrey need a cure for boils in the hospital wing?" he asked as he stewed his horned slugs. They were indeed brewing potions for the hospital wing.

"Because, Potter, most students are dunderheads whose sole purpose is to increase my work load by hexing each other with foolish jinxes."

Harry laughed a little and looked up to see Snape looking at him oddly. "Potter, why are you at Hogwarts and not with your family like the rest of your little friends," Snape said abruptly.

"My family and I don't get along, sir," Harry said, going back to his potion. Nothing else was said until Harry was about to leave.

"Can I come back to help you tomorrow, sir?" Harry asked.

Snape took a look at the potion on his desk that Harry had decanted. "Very well, Potter. If I must suffer your presence, make sure it is here at nine."

The next few days were not fun per say, but comfortable. Harry got to spend time with Snape, and they were civil for the most part. Harry thought he had learnt to deal with Snape pretty well.

"Are you deaf, Potter," Snape had snarled, "I said to dice, not chop."

"Can you show me how, Professor?" Harry had said firmly, unwilling to let his temper get the better of him.

Snape had glared but had shown him nevertheless.

"Do you like potions, sir?" Harry asked one day.

Snape's usually schooled face showed surprise. "Why do you ask, Potter?"

"I just can't tell if you do or not. It was really interested what you said about potions on our first class, about bewitching the mind and ensnaring the senses, but you don't seem to like teaching potions or brewing potions," Harry said, careful to avoid Snape's eyes.

It took Snape a moment to answer. "Quite a correct assessment, Mr. Potter. I enjoy the creativity needed to create new potions or make changes to an existing one. Brewing the same potion again and again is not enjoyable, nor is teaching children who do not wish to learn."

"Why do you teach then? Sir?" Harry added, crossing his fingers and hoping Snape took that question the way it was meant.

"It is a profession I fell into," Snape said, and Harry could tell the matter was closed.

On Christmas day, Harry awoke to squeals of glee coming from the common room. Putting on his glasses and robe, he went to the common room to see Tracey and Daphne surrounded by piles of wrapping paper and gifts. Snape was sitting on an armchair reading a book.

When they saw him, Daphne exclaimed, "There now, you've gone and woken Potter."

Tracey just grinned and said, "He doesn't mind, does he? Presents!" She pointed to a small pile under the Christmas tree in the corner of the room.

"I – I've got presents?" Harry could hardly believe his eyes.

"Don't sound so surprised," Tracey said teasingly, "It's like you've never gotten presents before."

"I haven't," Harry said quietly but the girls didn't hear him, though the other occupant did. He looked at the pile hardly able to believe they were his.

"Are you going to open them or not?" Tracey called out while Daphne rolled her eyes.

"Bring them here and open them, Potter," she said.

Harry dutifully brought his presents to where the girls were sitting and carefully began unwrapping them. He got sweets from Hermione, a hand-knitted green sweater and homemade fudge from Mrs. Weasley, a wooden flute from Hagrid and a fifty pence piece from the Dursleys.

"That's what your relatives sent you?" Daphne asked studying the fifty pence piece.

Harry shrugged. "It was friendly of them. You can keep it if you want."

All that was left now was one package. Harry carefully undid the wrapping, and out fell a light shimmery cloak and two pieces of paper.

He picked up the note first, which was written in loopy handwriting.

James left this in my possession before he died. It is time it was returned to you. Use it well. Enclosed is also something I believe will be of interest to you. She was as beautiful on the inside as she was on the outside. A Very Merry Christmas to you.

Harry stared at the note, wondering who could have sent such a cryptic message. He picked up the other paper that had fallen out. It wasn't paper, he realized as he held it in his hands. It was smooth and glossy. A photograph then. He turned it over to reveal a pretty young woman with red hair, green eyes and a dazzling smile. As he took in her appearance, she waved at him.

He took in a deep breath. "Mum," he whispered.

"What is it, Harry?" Tracey asked curiously.

"It's a picture of my mum," Harry said quietly. Snape started.

"Can I see?" Tracey said.

Harry wanted to hold on to the picture forever, but he silently handed it to Daphne who was closest to him. She glanced at it before giving it to Tracey.

"She's really pretty," Tracey said reverently as Daphne nodded in agreement. They both seemed to sense how much the photograph meant to him. "See, Professor," she said, holding it up to Snape.

Snape's hand twitched, as if unsure whether or not to take it. Finally, curiosity seemed to win out and he took it from Tracey to glance at it. Was it only Harry who noticed the slight tightening of his lips and a haunted look in those usually emotionless black eyes?

Finally, Snape held it out to him. As Harry approached Snape to take it, he noticed that Lily, who had been smiling and waving before, was now winking and blowing kisses at the professor. "I think she likes you, sir," Harry said smiling softly, "she was only waving when I had the picture."

Snape did not reply, instead he stood up. "If you are all done, I will be taking my leave. I will not be in my office so do not disturb me."

Once Snape had left, Daphne let out a startled gasp. "I think I know what that is," she said, "It's an invisibility cloak! They're really rare. Who sent you that package?"

"I don't know," Harry said still looking thoughtfully at the entrance to the common room.

Severus buried his head in his hands as he sat in his quarters that night. Harry Potter. Every time he saw the boy, every time he spoke with the boy, he was barraged with emotions he had hidden away all this time. The boy who mocked him with his very name, he thought humorlessly as he remembered back to a day long ago.

1977

She lay back on the grass and turned to face Severus.

Severus drank in her features, unable to believe that she had chosen him to be with her. At least for now.

"Sev," Lily said as she idly picked on the grass, "If you had a child, what would you name him or her?"

"Why do you ask?" Severus asked, a little taken aback.

"Just wondering," Lily said. Lily had a habit of allowing a train of thought to escape from her mouth. Severus thought he should be in the habit of expecting strange questions and comments from her, but she still shocked him sometimes.

"I don't know," Severus said, "I've hardly ever thought of myself as a particularly parental figure."

"I actually think you'd be a great father. You're firm but gentle."

Blushing slightly, Severus decided to divert the subject. "How about you? What would you name your children?"

"If I had a girl I'd name her Rose," Lily said immediately.

Rose Lily Snape, Severus thought. He mentally snorted.

"And if I had a boy, I'd name him Harry."

It had a nice ring to it. "Harry Snape."

"What did you say?"

Lily was staring at him. Had he said that out loud? "Nothing" he said quickly.

"Did you say Harry Snape?" Lily said. Severus didn't look at her to see her expression.

"I didn't mean – " he grappled for words that could diffuse the situation. She must think him an idiot for presuming that he would be the father of any children she had.

"You did," Lily said. It was a simple statement of fact. "I like it," she continued, "it has a nice ring to it."

Severus finally met her eye. She was grinning at him. He smiled shyly back.

Harry Potter. Unloved by his Muggle relatives… befriended those who others would not… always willing to help anyone in need… friends with Slytherins… happy to spend his free time brewing potions with Snape. He was nothing like James Potter. Severus rubbed at his temples, trying to rid himself of the ache in his head. He needed to get out of the dungeons, he decided, grabbing his cloak and trying to leave his thoughts behind him.

Harry stood before the strange mirror, drinking in the sight of himself with his father's arm around his shoulder. His father was smiling at him proudly. His mother stood behind them, smiling at them lovingly. Harry reached out to touch the beautiful image but all he touched was glass.

"Potter, what did I say about curfew?" the voice that spoke lacked it's usual snarl.

"I'm sorry, sir," Harry said, still unable to tear his eyes from the image.

Snape came to stand behind him. "What do you see?" he asked.

"I see…" Harry stopped. The Lily in the mirror had moved to where Snape was and had taken his hand. Lily and Snape smiled at each other lovingly, Snape's hand still on Harry's shoulder. He looked up at Snape, "I see my parents. What do you see, sir?"

Snape didn't reply. Harry hadn't expected him too. They stood silently for a while until Snape's eyes fell away. "Come on, Potter. I shall escort you back to the common room before you get into any more mischief."

With one last glance, Harry followed.

Before Harry knew it Christmas break was over and the other students returned. The rest of the break had been enjoyable. Harry had spent some time with Daphne and Tracey who had warmed up to him after their shared Christmas.

He had also continued going to Snape's office. Snape had completed all of the potions needed for the hospital wing so Harry usually just sat there and did homework. Neither of them said anything but the silence was comfortable.

"Let me see what you have written, Potter," Snape said as Harry completed his transfiguration homework.

Harry handed him the roll of parchment.

Snape looked over his work silently. "Add more on the application of switching spells," he said finally.

It was almost parental, Harry reflected as he walked from the dungeons back to the Gryffindor Tower where he hoped Ron and Hermione had arrived. He remembered Aunt Petunia going over Dudley's homework with him (of course, in Dudley's case, she had done the homework for him).

"Harry!" Ron cried as he caught sight of his best friend. He and Hermione had been standing outside the Gryffindor common room. "Where have you been, mate? We've been looking all over."

"I was staying in the Slytherin dorm over the break," Harry said.

"Why were you there, Harry?" Hermione asked.

"Tell us on the way to dinner," Ron said.

As they walked to dinner, Harry gave them a brief overview of his time with in the dungeons.

"Thanks for the sweets, Hermione. And it was really nice of your mum to send me that jumper Ron," Harry said.

"It was no problem, Harry," Hermione said smiling while Ron turned red and muttered something about knowing Harry wasn't expecting anything.

That reminded Harry of the photograph. He had kept it in his pocket on the way back to the Gryffindor common room to make sure it didn't get lost when his trunk was moved. "Look what I got," he said, pulling out the photograph and handing it to Hermione. "It's a picture of my mum."

Ron looked at it next to Hermione. "She was really pretty, Harry," Hermione said earnestly.

"Yeah, she was," Harry agreed.

"What have you got there, Granger?" Before Hermione knew it, Draco Malfoy had snatched the photograph out of her hand. "Who's this, Granger?"

"It's my mum, Malfoy, give it back!" Harry yelled.

Malfoy just smirked. "Look at this Crabbe, it's a picture of Potter's dead mother," Malfoy said, handing the photograph to Crabbe.

"Give it back!" Harry yelled, furiously drawing his wand. Crabbe's hands were so big, they were probably ruining the picture. By now a crowd was beginning to form.

"Or what, Potter? Crabbe, give it to me." Crabbe handed him the photo. Malfoy held the top of the photo in both hands. "Are you going to go crying to your Mudblood mother?"

There were gasps from the crowd. Harry gripped his wand tightly while Ron snarled beside him and took his own wand out.

Malfoy smiled nastily at Harry's reaction and moved his fingers in opposite direction so that the photo tore a bit from the top. "Oops," he said.

Harry was shaking. He could barely see clearly.

With one final flourish, Malfoy ripped the photo in two. Harry saw red. Dropping his wand he tackled Malfoy to the ground. He ignored Crabbe and Goyle's attempts to try to move him. All he wanted was to hit Malfoy over and over, which was difficult when Crabbe and Goyle were holding his arms. Malfoy was trying to shield his face.

Harry was so focused on freeing his arms and causing Malfoy as much pain as possible that he did not notice the sudden hushed silence.

"Release him. Now," came a command. Harry felt himself being lifted off Malfoy and tried to struggle but the arms around him held firm. Harry turned to try to free himself from the grasp but stopped as he smelt a familiar smell. A smell he remembered from once before, when he had buried his face in black robes.

"Would you care to explain what is going on here, Mr. Malfoy?" Snape asked evenly.

"Potter attacked me, sir! He's mental!" Malfoy said.

"He tore it!" Harry yelled, "He tore the picture of my mum!" He pointed to the pieces of the photo on the floor. Snape glanced at it.

"Malfoy," he said, "wait for me in the common room. You are not to leave until I fetch you. Potter, come with me." Without a backward glance at anyone, Harry followed Snape to his office.

"Sit," Snape commanded once they had reached his office. Harry slumped down looking down at his hands while Snape left the room for a moment. When he came back, he sat at his desk across from Harry.

"Now, Potter, what happened over there with Mr. Malfoy?" he said.

"My name's Harry," Harry muttered resentfully.

"What?"

"I said, my name's Harry. Call me Harry."

Snape rolled his eyes. "Very well, Harry, what happened with Malfoy?"

"What does it matter? I started the fight. Can you please just take points or give me detention?"

"No, I cannot. Nor will I."

Harry finally looked up. Suddenly, a tray popped onto Snape's desk with two mugs of a steaming brown liquid and some biscuits.

"Drink it. It will help," Snape said, gesturing to the hot chocolate as he picked up his own mug.

Harry took a sip from the mug and felt his whole body warming up. Once he gotten through half of his mug, Snape once again looked at him questioningly.

"I was showing Ron and Hermione the picture," Harry said dully, "And Malfoy came and snatched it out of Hermione's hands. He started taunting me and saying it was a picture of my dead mother and he called her – something bad, I think."

"What?" Snape asked, his eyes narrowing slightly.

"A, a Mudblood."

Snape's grip on the handle of his mug increased. "I see."

"What does it mean?"

"It is a despicable word used for those of Muggle parentage. It signifies that they have dirty blood, which is what Purebloods like the Malfoys despise."

Harry nodded. "He tore it then. It was the only picture of her I've ever seen and he tore it."

Snape silently reached into his robes and pulled out a photograph which he handed to Harry. It was the same photograph that had been torn, but not the same one. Harry's photo had finger and thumbprints on it from the number of times he had handled it. This one looked new. Harry looked at Snape, trying to convey his feelings without words. Snape looked impassively back.

"Malfoy's actions will be dealt with appropriately. Do not worry about that."

"You actually believe me?" Harry said, hardly daring to hope. The Dursleys had never believed him even when it was obvious he was telling the truth. For Snape to be taking his word over Malfoy's was a big thing.

"Yes," Snape said simply.

"I, thank you, sir." Harry felt a lump in his throat that did not allow him to say anything more.

"Go on back to your common room. Your dinner will be arranged there."

"Yes, sir. Thank you, sir."

He stood up and walked to the door. "Goodnight, Professor."

"Goodnight, Harry," came the wry reply.

Now he had to deal with Malfoy. The boy was an entitled brat but Severus knew to tread carefully around him, and around Lucius Malfoy. If Draco Malfoy had done what he had to anyone else, Severus might not take the measures he was going to, but the pain in those green eyes snatched all rational thought from his head.

It had been the same with Lily. When she was there, Severus knew he would walk through fire for her. He remembered back to a day, shortly before they had taken their O. when he had in fact, thought with the less sensible part of his brain.

1976

"Why do you talk to her anyway, Snape? She's just a Mudblood." Mulciber smirked while his friends tittered.

"Don't call her that!" Severus said sharply.

"Or what, Snape? I know you're a half-blood but you can do better than the likes of a filthy little Mudblood like her."

Snape lost it right there. In an instant, his wand was drawn and he was aiming hex after nasty hex at the five boys. It was no wonder an hour later he woke up in the hospital wing. He groaned. What a fool he was. What sane person would try to take on five boys, especially ones who could make his life hell?

"Severus!" Lily cried as she rushed into the hospital wing. "I heard what happened. What were you thinking, picking a fight with Mulciber and the rest? Honestly, Severus." She moved to gently push his hair away from his eyes.

Severus let out a weak grin. It had been worth it.

A week later, he was hanging upside down while Potter showed off in front of Lily.

"Leave him alone!" Lily said, her wand out.

"Fine," Potter said, releasing Severus, "You were lucky Evans was here, Snivellus."

"I don't need help from her," Severus said, glaring angrily at Potter.

Lily blinked. "Fine, then I won't bother helping in the future."

Severus swore as she left while Potter looked on victoriously.

He had always been a fool when it came to her, and apparently he would be a fool when it came to her son.

He walked to the Slytherin common room where most of the house had gathered to see what would happen. Draco Malfoy was sitting on an armchair, looking smugly superior.

"Malfoy, you will accompany me to my office," he said. The noise in the common room dropped. They could hear something in his tone that Malfoy did not.

"Why?" Malfoy said, "Can't you just say you rebuked me and we can be done with it."

Though Severus admitted he was usually lax in his punishments to the Slytherins, this was going too far. Most of the Slytherins understood his limits and adhered to them. "Let's see," he said silkily, "that will be fifty points from Slytherin for your abominable behavior and another fifty for your insolence."

There was a collective deep intake of breath from the members of the house and glares were directed at Malfoy. Malfoy's smirk slid of his face but the foolish boy still didn't know when to shut his mouth.

"You can't do that! You never take points from Slytherin."

"I just did, Malfoy. Now I suggest you follow me before I decide to take fifty more."

Sulkily, Malfoy followed him to his office. The moment they reached, Malfoy started. "It wasn't me! Potter hit me first."

"I know."

Malfoy looked surprised, but glared at him.

"For your actions, you will receive a month of weekly detention with Filch."

"A month! What did Potter get?"

"That is not your concern but the concern of his Head of House."

"But you'll make sure he gets more than me, won't you? Daily detention for a month?"

"I will do no such thing, Malfoy."

"That's not fair. Potter was being a baby about it anyway."

"I believe it is very fair."

"Wait until I write to my father about this. He won't allow this to happen." Malfoy looked at him defiantly.

Severus's eyes gleamed. "And what do you think your father will say when I write to him to tell him about your actions? What will he say when I tell him that you destroyed the only picture an orphan boy has of his mother, especially when that orphan is the Boy-Who-Lived?"

Malfoy's face paled. It was time he learned that his actions had repercussions.

"Furthermore," Severus continued, "you will make a public apology to Mr. Potter tomorrow in the Great Hall."

"I will not!"

"Then I will have no choice but to write to your father."

Malfoy was glaring at him even harder now. Severus ignored him and sat at his desk to work on a quiz for the third years.

"Why do you care so much about Potter anyway?"

"I will send you a note about your first detention on Saturday."

Malfoy pushed his chair back hard and left the room, leaving Severus to ponder the question he had posed.

"You seem to have dealt with the situation very well, Severus," Dumbledore praised later that evening. The two of them were sitting with McGonagall in Dumbledore's office and Severus had just finished telling them about the punishment he had given Malfoy.

"I have not yet had a chance to talk to Mr. Potter," McGonagall said, "how do you think I should handle that situation, Severus?"

"I would not presume to tell you how to deal with your students, Minerva." Unbeknownst to him, Dumbledore and McGonagall shared a look.

"Because he was so severely provoked and no one was hurt, how about twenty points from Gryffindor?"

"That seems reasonable," Severus said. For a man who had just taken one hundred points from his own house, he seemed remarkably calm.

"Out of curiosity, Severus, how did you manage to calm young Harry? He seemed in quite a state," Dumbledore said.

"The usual way," Severus said with an ironic curve of his mouth. Patience and chocolate, he thought, but he would never tell Albus or Minerva that.

"It is too bad that picture of his mother is destroyed," Dumbledore said sadly, "I believe it was the only one he had."

Severus didn't mention that he had given a copy of the photo to Harry.

"It would be nice if he had had more than one," Dumbledore continued, regarding Severus over his half-moon spectacles.

Severus rolled his eyes. "I believe I will call it a night," he told them.

He walked back to his quarters and automatically reached for the box from which he had removed the copy of the photograph. He held it tightly. It contained all the photographs he had of Lily: from when they were children, to summer holidays during Hogwarts, to their wedding day. He opened the box and took out a photo of Lily in her wedding dress. She looked so beautiful and so happy. He sighed and began sorting through the pictures.

"Harry, did you hear what happened with Draco last night?" Daphne asked as she and Tracey rushed up to him on his way to breakfast the next morning.

Harry shook his head.

"Snape got really angry," she said, "He took a hundred points from Slytherin and gave Draco detention with Filch for a month!"

"What?" Harry said blankly, unable to believe it.

"Snape took points from Slytherin?" Ron asked, just as shocked.

"The whole house is furious at Draco," Tracey said.

Harry turned to his friends, looking between Ron's flabbergasted face and Hermione's knowing smile.

"We'll see you later, Harry," Tracey said waving as they walked to the Slytherin table.

"I can't believe it," Harry said numbly as they sat down.

"Oh, Harry, I'm so happy for you," Hermione said. Before she could say anymore, a hush began to fall over the Great Hall. They turned around to see Snape walking towards the Slytherin table where Draco Malfoy was sitting.

"I believe you have something to do this morning, Mr. Malfoy," Snape said.

Malfoy looked at him with loathing and stood up. Snape folded his arms and watched as he walked to the Gryffindor table where Harry sat.

"Sorry, Potter," Malfoy spat before turning around and walking back to his table.

The noise in the hall returned to slightly greater than normal levels.

"Is this some crazy dream?" Ron said, looking dazed.

Malfoy's experiences didn't seem to have humbled him. He sat behind Harry in Potions and kept muttering in his ear.

"You think you're so great, Potter, now that you've become Snape's favorite. You don't know anything about him."

"Shut up, Malfoy," Ron muttered back. Harry tried to ignore him. He needed to concentrate on his potion.

"He is a Death Eater, you know. He works for the man who killed your Mummy. Father says he's just being nice to you to gain your trust." He stopped talking as Snape approached to make his rounds.

As Snape passed by, Harry studied him carefully. He knew that Snape had worked for Voldemort and he had thought about it before but somehow it had been pushed to the back of his mind. Voldemort himself seemed like a distant nightmare. Was what Malfoy was saying true? Was Snape really still working for Voldemort?

"Ask Professor Dumbledore," Hermione immediately suggested when he voiced his concerns. "He hired Snape so he would know if Snape was a Death Eater."

"I can't just go up to Dumbledore and say, 'by the way, Professor, is Snape by any chance still working for Voldemort?'" Harry said sarcastically.

Ron flinched at the name.

"Yes you can, Harry. Or better yet, ask Snape."

Harry and Ron stared at her.

Hermione looked exasperated. "I mean it Harry. In fact, I think you should show him the letter too."

Harry shook his head. "I can't show him the letter, Hermione. Not yet."

Hermione looked at him sympathetically. "Well you should talk to either Dumbledore or Snape about Snape being a Death Eater."

"I agree with Hermione," Ron announced. Harry and Hermione looked at him in shock. "If you want him as a dad, you should probably find out if he's trying to do you in," Ron said shrugging.

Hermione rolled her eyes.

Harry sighed. "I'll talk to Dumbledore," he promised.

Before they could say any more, Neville Longbottom hopped into the common room, his legs bound together in a Leg-Locker curse.

Hermione sprang up and did the counter curse. "What happened?" she asked.

"Malfoy," Neville said shakily, "he said he was looking for someone to practice on."

"He probably took out his anger on Neville," Ron muttered to Harry.

Harry took out his last chocolate frog from his pocket. "You're worth twelve of Malfoy, Neville," Harry said earnestly.

Neville gave a small smile as he took the chocolate. "Thanks, Harry." He removed the card. "Here, you can have the card. You collect them, don't you?"

The card was of Dumbledore, the first one Harry had ever gotten. Harry flipped it over and gasped. "I've found him," he exclaimed, "I've found Nicholas Flamel!"