Harry looked back at Hogwarts as he left after the Battle, his hand clutching the second of the only two portraits of Severus Snape. His eyes glistened with recollection, with the memories of his only home, as he saw the shambles which was now all that was left of the majestic castle. That made them the three orphans that had sought solace within Hogwarts' majestic haven; Tom Riddle, Severus Snape and now him, Harry Potter.

Harry spun on his axis as he apparated with his cheeks stained with his salty tears. No one was going to remember him as a boy anymore, not after the horrific deed he had committed. "Get a grip of yourself Potter," he chided himself,"How do you expect to be an auror if you cant stomach the death of the most vile human on Earth?"

Severus Snape's portrait blinked and listened to Harry weeping, wondering how to console the boy and tell him that death was a part of life, and Voldemort's death had resulted in the saving of thousands other.

"Potter. Potter, no, Harry," he spoke softly.

Harry looked up and searched for the noise, *Stupid stupid, Snape is dead, you killed him too," he sobbed, "You kill everyone, no one is safe from you."

"Potter, stop crying like a toddler this instant!" Snape commanded.

"Sir? Professor? The portrait!" Harry exclaimed.

"I really wonder how that Gryffindor courage itself has helped you survive, a flobberworm would be smarter than you Potter." Snape smiled, as he saw Harry scowl at his remark.

"As moody as ever too Harry, you are so much like your mother. Lily used to have a fiery temper that rivaled her fiery hair, and you seem to have inherited that. How I wish I could have told you about her before, but all I saw in you was Potter, never the Evans. Could you forgive me?"

Harry choked back his tears as the guilt that had composed him for the past half an hour consumed him once again, "I killed you Professor, I am more guilty than you could ever be... If I weren't there no one would die, mom could have been alive just like you!"

"You are as idiotic as ever, Voldemort was to blame, not you. I was to blame for Trelawney's prophecy, had I not reported anything nothing would have happened except Voldemort would find another way to destroy us all. We would have been stuck in a war for so many years. Your killing him was not your fault, it was his spell that rebounded upon him, it was his choices that led to his demise. Is that clear Potter?"

Harry gulped down his sobs and managed to croak out "Crystal, sir. But that does not make me like killing him."

"As dismal as you were at Potions, I can't believe I am proud of you not being happy to succeed something. Killing is not something to be happy about, I would be disappointed if you were. Auror is the right job for you, you are scared of hurting people, and that's what will help you from getting stuck in a cell in Azkaban with a crave for blood. That is what we mean by soulless."

"Ron'd probably swallow a snitch if he heard you say that sir," Harry softly chuckled, his coarse throat scratching his laugh.

It was now Severus' turn to glower at Harry, "Detention Mr.Potter, for the rest of your life. Where are we by the way? your embrace is not the most satisfying view."

"Oh sorry Professor," Harry released the portrait, "I wanted to start life again, so I am back where it all began."

"Godric's Hollow," Snape completed, taking in the statue of Lily and James Potter towering above the crouching Harry. "Back at the beginning, stuck with the Dungeon Bat."

"This is not a good idea Potter," Snape said softly, " As thick as your skull may be, Voldemort may be dead but his faithful Death Eaters do remain. So do the families of those you have harmed."

"I know Professor," Harry mumbled. "I shall not be living here, even though I will visit my parents graves. We will be moving somewhere else, and not even Professor McGonaggal would be able to find us there."

"Mr. Potter have you even thought of where you want to go?"

"Y-yes sir, I was thinking about moving..." Harry faltered.

Severus Snape wished his hands were in the portrait, oh how he wished he could pinch the bridge of his nose. Bloody saviour had to go melodramatic and decide to disappear from the face of the wizarding world, without a clue to where he wanted to hide!

"I am taking you instead, since you so perfectly well know where we are supposed to go," Snape sneered.

"Wh-where sir?"

"Off the continent. Its a place you would not have heard of, but I am not at all reluctant to take you there-"

"America?"

"No. The dark lord had a few minions there too, and even though they might have not really respected him as we were obliged to do, they would undoubtedly think of you as a threat. No, we will be going to a place which has cut its ties with the British government, a place where we will be enemies from our language to our attire."

"That's mad sir!" Harry exclaimed.

"Not at all, since the people would hate us, information of our whereabouts would not reach anyone else, lest the other British come to conquer them. We are going as refugees, which would give us the edge and the benefit of their questionable loyalty. Fear and the poor orphan look go well together."

"Er..Where are we going?"

"You will see, all you have to do is grab that vial I gave you with the memories in it. Tap it with your wand and say "Portus", that should activate the portkey in it and take us where we ought to go."

"Had you already thought of this? Stupid question, of course you had sir. Can't you tell me the name of the place at least?"

"No Mr. Potter. The boy who lived will only find out when we get there, Godric's Hollow is not the safest place for such an enlightening conversation."

"Of course not sir. Sorry sir."

Harry removed his wand from his holster and lightly tapped it against the vial he had stored in the pockets of his invisibility cloak. "Portus," he whispered as a faint blue light lit up the vial like a muggle bulb.

"Its oddly satisfying, seeing you so contrite Mr Potter."

"Yes sir, I am sorry for all the trouble I caused you before sir."

Harry grasped his trunk and draped his cloak over them before grasping the vial. With a jerk at his navel, he was pushed off the ground and in a few minutes he was lying sprawled on the grass.

He opened his eyes and pushed himself off the ground to see himself sitting on a lush green hillside overlooking a sapphire blue sea dotted with an island covered by majestic yet odd trees.

"Sir?" he asked cautiously afraid he was in a reverie.

"Socotra, Yemen."

Harry let out a gasp in surprise. "How do you expect us to communicate here, let alone live?!"

"I have created a spell that will enable us to communicate as well as understand anyone or anything. I actually created it to understand Nagini and Voldemort after your stupid yet valiant attempt at saving the Weasley girl."

"So snakes, bears anything?" Harry said awed by his professors ingenuity.

"Trees and stones too, but they test my patience. The spell is this 'Transferendum egomet'. You will have to move your wand in an upside question mark formation with a thrust to the bottom at the end, and then poke yourself."

Harry cast the spell on himself as Snape asked and then tried hearing for any peculiar sounds around him. The trees seemed to slurring. "I see what you mean by the trees sir. So, er.. how far away from civilization are we?"

"We are currently in Nait, which is in the south east of the island. The islands you see from here are Samhah and Darsah. To get to the nearest village will take you 4 hrs if you travel at 5 kilometres per hour, or a second if you choose to apparate. But first, I need you to apparate us to Hajhir."

"How am I supposed to know where the hell that is?"

"Even though you may be of age Mr Potter, I will let you know that inappropriate language is still forbidden. Especially since you owe me detentions until you die. Cast 'Tabula ex socotra' on the stone to your right. Once you know where Hajhir is, take us there. Hajhir is greener than here, and even though this place looks pleasant, come summer and you shall die of the dry conditions."

Harry hung his head at the chastisement and mumbled the spell. Soon, he had all his belongings and the stone tablet in his hand before apparating to Hajhir.

Harry stumbled as his knees buckled to support the weight of his belongings on the edge of a steep cliff overlooking a tranquil ravine with streams echoing through the land. His foot slipped along the edge and he struggled to find balance to keep his organs intact. He quickly cast a feather-light charm on his belongings and used his Quidditch reflexes in action. If only I could have such a simple and glorious death, alas that doesn't seem to be the case; as usual!

Harry laughed as he stepped backwards, musing over the happy thoughts of death and the inviting prospect of meeting his parents,if only life were so easy as to have a switch off or pause button.

"Gryffindors," Snape sneered.

"And what is that supposed to mean Oh Supreme and Prime lion in snake's clothing?" Harry scowled.

"I am no 'Lion'. I do not have the foolish tendencies that empower you young hooligans to risk your lives for pointless reasons and throw your self preservation instincts to the wind. Not to mention laugh at the face of danger!"

"Oh, and you are a great example are you? Being a spy for the light, endangering your life...well, at least every day for the past eighteen years." Harry pretended to think, "Oh yeah, and risking your neck to save me through a period of extensive toils and troubles, not caring for a shred of your life. I think I have a great role model to follow, don't you?"

Snape's scowl deepened as he careful sought the words for an effective retort. The boy is uncannily right. I have had foolish tendencies through the years, especially where this rascal is concerned.

"Alright Potter, I have been an idiotic Lion for a few years, but that does not excuse your stupid actions from the day you stepped into Hogwarts."

"True, but whatcha gonna do about it?"

"I cannot do anything about it except warn you. You probably know that every culture creates different people due to the difference in the psychologies and philosophies of said cultures?"

"Yes, but whats that supposed to do with this?"

"I am getting there you insufferable dunderhead!," Snape calmed himself to recollect his resolve, " Yemenis are highly Gryffindor in some aspects but they have just as much Slytherin, Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff in them too."

"And this affects me how?"

"Are you drunk Mr Potter?"

"No why? and you haven't answered my question."

"This affects you because believe it or not, you are going to have to have more company than a yellowing portrait."

"Yeah, er... the population of Socotra is really low, and honestly you are a lot more friendly from my perception compared to the Arabs we studied in primary school."

"Imbecile! The same could have been said about the English in their schools, what would you say to that?"

"We are jerks, and we do steal and swindle people..."

Snape gave an exasperated sigh. What on Earth is making Potter so delusional?

"Potter," Snape interrupted Harry, "Have you had any drugs?"

"Nope! I landed here and just started feeling weird, like I am on top of the world."

"Felix Felicis?"

"No. I had my last in 6th year, you have some?"

"NO." Snape thought deeply Could the Dragonblood trees be affecting him?

"Harry, did you feel this way in Nait?"

"No sir, like I said, I reached here and I felt weird ever since."

"Do you have any potion substances in your bag?or trunk?"

"No," Harry laughed, "like you have pointed out a billion times, I am absolutely mediocre at potions. Do you really envision me carrying a bag filled with cauldrons and potions?"

Snape shuddered at the thought of blasting cauldrons ,"No, of course not Potter."

"Hey, you had called me Harry before!"

"Mr Potter," Snape said ignoring Harry's indignant claim, "You have to get an antidote for this, so we should go to Sanaa; its the capital city of Yemen."

"I am English remember, they will kill me... and you talk about self preservation," Harry rolled his eyes.

"Offer them your auror and dark arts skills; that should ensure your safety. You could even file a complaint against the British Ministry for all the stuff that evil Umbridge did to you."

"Really? I would love to do that, lets go!"

"Not yet, we will first have to go through the facts of life when dealing with Yemenis, and Arabs in general."

"You are sooo boring!"

"Oh Yippee. Now, "Snape said in his no-nonsense tone, "Like I said, they are Gryffindors; because they have a strong sense of family, a trait shared by Slytherins too, and they are fiercely loyal to their families, I swear they can kill for their families too."

"So they are extreme badgers, snakes and lions?"

"And eagles too... They are super smart and cunning. Most of the technological advances in the world have Arabs to thank for."

"Okay. So you are trying to tell me not to underestimate them and make sure of how to interact with them."

"You would give Granger a run for her money Mr Potter," Snape said impressed.

"I am going to do both, by the way. I really do wanna be an auror, and I can't wait to destroy and reveal Umbridge for who she really is."

"Were you a snake in another life?"

"Oh no.. sorting hat said I should go to Slytherin in my first and second year, but I tricked it into getting me into Gryffindor, bit easy really."

"SInce you have the layout now, go ahead to Sanaa. I will get the spells for establishment and habitation ready here till then."

"You are not coming?"

"No. Go on little Snake."

Harry scowled before apparating to Sanaa.

I almost feel like I like this new and open Potter Snape thought.

Harry gaped at the men who surrounded him the moment he apparated.

"Wizard," one hissed, a dagger in hand.

"Obliviate minorus," Harry whispered putting all his force in the spell. Oh bloody hell, I would be packing my way to Azkaban already were I in Britain.

The men slowly dropped confused, while Harry slipped the wand into his wrist holster. Their confusion was quickly replaced with their hatred again.

"Foreigner," a burly man spat.

"I come with peace," Harry said, hoping his dialect would pass as normal.

"Wizard," they hissed again.

Now what did I do wrong, Harry thought, casting the spell again.

"You had better hide," a scrawny and sallow boy said; his eyes burned out. Hiding in an alley behind Harry.

"Why?" Harry said, scooting next to the boy, hidden in the shadows.

"Wizards are bad. I am a freak," he said slowly.

"Aren't their others like you?"

"Perhaps, but we are too scared to reveal ourselves. Faith does sometimes come before blood, and magic is unholy."

"Isn't their an organization? A ministry of sorts? And what gave me away?"

"Ministry," he scoffed, laughing darkly. "No. As for your stupid attempt; no foreigner can easily enunciate Arabic with the ease you possessed."

"So what of the older wizards?"

"Some have been killed by their parents, some like my teacher have taken us in."

"May I meet him? I would like to seek refuge in Yemen."

"Europeans are nothing but trouble, what would set you apart from them?"

Harry looked into the boy's eyes, they were hard and calloused by tragedies. "How old are you?"

"Old enough. We wizards usually stick by one another, but no one will make an exception to you."

Harry sighed, "I never asked for it to be easy. can I not prove my worth?"

"Everyone proves their worth but turns against us when they get the upper hand. I cannot judge you, for I do not know you, but my teacher may test to see if you are really as worthy as you appear to be," he said after a moments contemplation.

"You will take me?" Harry said with a flicker of hope.

"You have been in his midst Mr. Potter."

Harry jerked around to face an old wizened man. A frail stick was all that was holding him upright, his cotton scarf wrapped around his head and his clothes hanging lazily upon him.

"How do you know me?" Harry asked warily.

"Severus Snape had told me of you plenty of times for me to acknowledge you in a moments notice. Besides word of your power has spread far and wide amongst all wizarding kind. Where is my former student, Mr. Potter?"

"He was killed sir. The dark wizard I fought killed him before I could help him and truly determine his loyalties."


"Unfortunate circumstances. He was the son of an Arab immigrant; Tobias Snape. His father brought him here thinking that wizardry was uncommon in Yemen unlike Britain but in his crazy hope, Severus met me. You may remove the enchantment upon you Mr. Potter, I do not like the buzz I hear near your ear."

"I don't know how sir," Harry replied sheepishly.

The elderly wizard snapped his fingers and a wave of magical energy rippled across Harry; his clothes slightly whipping around as if in a strong gust of wind.

"Ibtaa anna Mustafa,"Leave us Mustafa he said to the boy."Pardon me, my English is not up to level."

"Its excellent. Sir, if you may call me Harry instead?"

"I only call my students by their first names Mr. Potter, and you shall have to earn that right before I advance you and help you."

Harry nodded, the flicker of hope vanishing again. Who would consent to teach a murderer Harry thought miserably.

"Not all is lost,I have complete faith in your abilities to pass my tests. As for your character, that will come in time."

"Sir, Professor Snape told me to give my skills in defence against the dark arts so that you may consent in taking me in," Harry said slowly.

"He told you of me?" he asked, tilting his head and resting it on his shaky staff.

"No sir. He only told me to present my skills to the best wizard I find," Harry mumbled, hoping against hope that he would be accepted.

"What do you want from Yemen that you could not acquire in England?"

"A chance to prove myself for merit and not by name. A chance to be me."

"Are you certain you shall get it here?"

"I was hoping my fame would not have preceded me, but I can see that you are a fair judge."

"What did you see in my apprentice? The little boy?"

"He only looks little, but he has lived a full and dangerous life in his short time."

"So have all Yemenis. We have ambition, do you? Will you really be able to fit in amongst us?"

"My ambition has always been to be the best I can, But I have failed. I do not intend to repeat my mistakes again."

"In what way have you failed?"

"I am a murderer," Harry said bluntly.

"Mustafa?" the man asked for the boy, who had scurried from view.

The boy came into the alley, "Na'am ya sah?" Yes, sir?

"Inzir i shai min fadhlik ya bunaya." Bring a cup of tea please, my precious child.

The boy gave a smile to Harry and scurried away.

Mustafa gave a fleeting smile at Harry as he left the hidden alley.

"Sir, may I cast the spell upon myself once more? I feel uncomfortable not knowing what you say to one another," Harry said tentatively, playing nervously with his fingers.

"No Mr. Potter, it would do you ill to not understand our language and consort to a spell," he said amused. "About murdering... Why do you believe that?

"Sir, I believe I could have done something else. Of course, I was also afraid that he would be too manipulativd and he would end up killing everyone I love... I just feel that things could have been different," Harry said softly, his words drifting off his tongue as his thoughts ventured to the body of Voldemort crashing to the ground.

"What if your father killed Voldemort when he attempted to kill you? Would you label your father a murderer?"

"Of course not, he died protecting us. He would have killed in defence!" Harry said with indignation.

The old man gave a small smile, "And you killed for sport did you?"

"No, no... I am sorry sir. I have been a tad bit misguided."

I am such a fool. I shouldn't have come at all!

"You are young and far too innocent a pawn in the hands of the overbearing power."

"I am sorry sir," Harry said dejectedly. Thats it, he will not accept me.

"However," Harry held on to the sliver of hope that he was holding on to, "I shall take you in as my student and acolyte Harry "

Harry's face lit up in happiness and euphoria.

"You may now enter my humble abode, Harry. Ahlan wasahlan," the man ushered Harry in front of a wall and tapped the bricks on the wall with his finger. The bricks slid past one and the other finally opening up to a beautiful and cavernous foyer.

"Wow!" Harry breathed.

"Harry," Mustafa said meekly, holding a tray of tea and a few baked flatbreads topped with honey and onion seeds.

"Thank you," Harry said, taking the tray from the scrawny boy.

Harry nibbled on the sweet bread, savouring the sweet dripping honey as it rolled across his tongue punctuated by the crunchy onion seeds.

"Sir, what is your name?"

"Finally realised, did you?" he chuckled, "My name is Khadir, but you may call me saheb or janab. I am not much for first name basis as the Western world tends to be."

"Is saheb or Janab an honorary title as sir?"

He smiled, "Yes, and its good that you are trying to learn, as I shall not allow you to cast that spell upon yourself anymore. Janab means teacher, while saheb means sir. However, Arabic tends to go deeper with words than English has ever done."

"Yes, Janab."

"In two weeks time, I hope you may be able to string a few simple sentences in Arabic. Mustafa shall teach you more of that. Another thing you should know is, your wand shall be destroyed tomorrow. You shall master wandless magic, and I would rather the wand does not tempt you to throw my tutelage to the winds, is that clear?"

"Er.. I have yet to make my abode sir.. I mean Janab. I was hoping to finish it in a week, and I can't perform magic without it."

"Where do you stay? Mustafa shall accompany you if you may need help."

"Socotra, Janab."

He pinched the bridge of his nose, "Don't tell me you are living near any Dragonblood trees."

"Er... Y- yes, " Harry said meekly.

"Dragonblood trees are dangerous to wizards. You probably got muddled and confused. The only way to get over the drowsy affects is to drink the blood like sap in the trunk of the tree stirred thrice in the milk of a camel with two humps, thrice daily for two weeks. Thankfully, we are both immune to it now, we are willing to help you. I suppose I may have to teach you over there instead, and magic would be a folly attempt as you rampage around like a drunkard fool. So... Arabic it is."

"Is Arabic magic different?"

"Magic is the control of elements and the twisting of their natures. It is created by the nature of the caster. Arabs are more prone to fire magic, while Europeans use Earth and Water magics. So, yes, we do have different magical signatures to yours and your people."

"Professor Snape?"

"His power was on the mind magics, the mind magics comprise of all elemental magics. It is the most powerful. He had mastered more fire magic than the others though."

"Do you use words like we do?"

"Words, not at all. The Arabic language is strung with emotional language. We will our emotions to form what we want. I believe you term such people as... Empaths?"

Harry screwed his face in thought, "Aren't empaths the best at all magics?" he finally murmered, recalling Professor McGonaggal's long lectures on non verbal magic.

Khadir smirked, "To any human, the unknown is a mystical and powerful creature. Such is the same for our magic. It is different, but no stronger than the will we put to it. Much like the patronus you cast in your third year at that awfully biased school."

"How did you know? Why is Hogwarts biased."

"Severus told me. As for Hogwarts, it is biased towards those of cultures apart from their own. Racial discrimination is not a part of the muggle world itself, we are all humans after all. Had you asked the Patil twins they would have told you, unlike Whites, those of mixed races have to ask and beg to get a place in Hogwarts. The government has always believed in making the racially different go to their own schools at their own respective ancestral countries."

"I never knew," Harry saod guiltily.

"There is much you do not know Harry. Now, I believe we have a lot on our hands, will you please consent to apparate us there?"

"Indeed sir," Harry said giving his hand to both Mustafa and Khadir.

"Hajir," he said clearly before spinning on his spot, oblivious to the frightened and hollow faces of his teacher and fellow acolyte.

"Hajir?" Mustafa spluttered upon reaching the windy over-cliff. Harry sprawled on the ground, his magic immediately seeping through and making him dizzy with energy loss.

"Did you have to choose a place in the heart of Hajir?" Khadir scowled.

"Janab?" Snape said from his portrait trying to rubberneck his head through the portrait to be able to see but to no avail.

"Severus my boy! Harry must be a very strong mage to be able to transport from here to San'aa and yet retain much of his strength even with the dragonblood sucking his energy like a leech."

"He is strong, but he never works harder than mediocre. I am surprised he didn't show all of his skills even in his OWL's," Snape chuckled. "WIth a family as unsupportive as his, I can't say I am really surprised at his classwork.... but he really can do more than he will ever give himself credit for."

"Thanks for the opinion sir. Never thought you actually saw much, or cared much really," Harry stuttered trying to keep his eyes open and not fall out of sheer exhaustion.

"I was very mean to you, wasn't I? Alas, appearances had to be kept, or else Dumbledore would have lost a spy, and you would have lost your life a couple of times."

"Why did you care though?" Khadir asked, as he tried pulling Harry into an alcove further from the dangerous cliff and trees.

"I was in love with Potter's mother. She didn't love me back, but I loved her and love her still. Funny, I never thought portraits had emotions, goes to show," Severus mused. "how did I die though Potter?"

"Not with a smile, that's for certain," Harry muttered, "Voldemort ordered Nagini to attack you. It was gruesome, and bloody and .... and we couldn't do anything to save you," Harry croaked out. "You gave us your memories and then died... just like that. We turned and fled to the castle. I wanted to see what was so important - Dumbledore wanted me to kill myself. Okay, sure, he thought it might work and all but I am not a lab rat."

"You say Nagini attacked me?"

"Yea, bit you right through. I could see the blood pouring out of your veins.." Harry shuddered.

"I am a snake as an animagus Potter. Like your dogfather."

"So?" Harry mused.

"I can't be killed by the poison of Nagini for we are the same species, I am a python too; I am immune to the effects of venom."

"So you must be alive then? But how, we buried your body."

"A snake animagus sheds its skin before transforming into a snake. You found my shedded body, I may be alive."

"Portraits aren't given life until the person dies, isn't it?" Harry asked.

"Portraits aren't given life until the person is declared dead and a burial occurs. There is no certainty of any one beings dead just because his portrait is alive. To really know if I am certainly alive, you will have to view my vault. Without any successive heir, the goblins will pass on my vault upon my true death to the Ministry - and goblins know when any person truly dies because of their superior magic."

"So, we should go back to London just to see whether you are alive? Or is there some other way?"

"Nice to know you care so much Potter," Snape said sarcastically, "No, there is a Gringotts bank here as well. Not all governments agree to giving the goblins a hold of their money, but the Arabs have no such qualms."

"So I can get my gold out of my vault here too?"

"Perhaps, but given a greater incentive the goblins will reveal your location to the wizarding public, so I do not advise it. My being dead means I cannot show up there either, but Janab can, being my teacher and therefore genuinely afraid of my health and sound mind."

"Could you?" Harry said, finally remembering that Khadir was there as well.

"I could do it. I will check your vault Severus, tonight after we have an abode made for the two of you and us to reside in " Khadir said with a smirk.

"How will we do it?"

"Inquisitive boy, it will be just me and Mustafa for today. Your energy and magical core is spent and we need you up and about tomorrow to get everything else done. For now, we will just start by conjuring a bed for you and will get work around the other things."

"But I want to help," Harry said indignantly as a bed popped beneath him and covered him warmly in a soft afghan. Even with all his protesting Harry quickly fluttered to sleep.

Severus smirked as Khadir created a wall to prop him up and began casting like the mad genius he really was. With a wave of his hand, he had the couches created and the room that went from Harry's room to the corridor. Harry remained oblivious to everything that occurred around him as he slowly drifted into a stupor from which he awoke two days later.

"Finally up, Potter?" a silky voice startled me as I fluttered my eyes open.

"Professor?" I mumbled, grasping around to look for my glasses. Suddenly the spectacles were thrust into my groping hands.

"You are back!" I exclaimed happily, momentarily forgetting myself and hugging Snape around his belly, burying my head in his signature black robes.

"Er... Potter, as much as I enjoyed being bitten by Nagini, would you please let go of me before I cruciate you?" he said awkwardly pulling my head away.

"Now he finally hugs you after mocking behind our back for so long," portrait Snape huffed in annoyance. "Perhaps we should employ these death defying gryffindorkish attempts at foolhardy more often, it does seem to instill respect in these awful dunderheads."

"Aw c'mon Professor - you like me now. Besides which, I do believe I may have done the same thing had I agreed to the hat and joined Slytherin."

Both Snapes held their sides as I saw them laugh, the first honest laugh I had ever heard from him, "The day you come to Slytherin would be the day hell froze over, you are a dumb lion through and through Potter."

I grumbled under my breath just about to retort as Khadir came into view." My patient is finally up! As you can see, your professor is well and perfectly healthy and recuperated from his own injuries while you filled out your nearly depleted Magical Core."

"Yeah well, he would have been a squib had he travelled even a bit more as he had planned," Hassan smirked. "You should be immune to the dragonblood trees soon, although I think that you would also need to be reminded why not to approach them too often with another English wizard ever again."

"Excellent point Hassan," Snape sneered, "If his brain actually comprehends the threat later on, that is."

"Oh Severus, he will certainly understand. Mr. Potter,"Khadir said, helping me off the bed, "As I had told you before, until you become entirely, certainly, immune to the affects of the dragonblood tree, you will remain working like a muggle. Enhancing your other strengths including physical and mental. Our first lesson will be on the trees themselves;the greatest threat to wizarding society."

"Yes sir, I mean Janab." I stumbled across the porch as he led me outdoors.

"Dragonblood trees were made billions of years ago when the first dragons roamed the world. The dragons couldn't find shelter because their breaths would annihilate most wood, and stones did not offer the warmth or the magic that the dragons needed. After much liberation, the dragons used their innate magic in creating trees merged with stones, impervious to fire but held with strong magic that came from the magical cores within dragons and other magical creatures themselves. The magic forged helped seed a new culture, where dragons could coexist together in harmony with all the warmth and place they xould need. Soon after, they grew soft, since other magical beings could not attempt to come near them without being magically exhausted. Until a few muggles breached the land. Kings and knights came to claim the land, and the dragons were quickly killed, there blood seeping through the ground and into the trees, some dragons turning into the trees themselves. Only the immune can now venture close by, or the fierce and strong. You could have died Mr. Potter, it is only through sheer dumb luck that you did not become a part of these trees yourself."

"What are the magical properties?"

"the greatest is obviously poison, the most lethal of all wizarding kind which does not kill but rather renders the wizard no longer magical. A variation was created a few years ago which did the opposite and made a person more powerful by adding the dragon's magic into the wizard, eventually the wizard died because his core was not equipped to handle the magical influx. Wands cannot be made, because they amplify the magic far too much than needed."

"So it's like a nuclear bomb for wizards?"

"In a way, Harry, but not truly. If there were no roots and the trees stood by themselves, the power would only pass a few metres in all directions, the roots mess things up. While the nuclear reactors could create bombs from small atoms, this tree would barely kill a few thousand compared to the millions of an atomic bomb."

"Oh. What would happen if I touched it?" I asked.

"Why don't you have a go at it and see what will happen?" he chuckled grimly.

"Er... Yes, sir?" I said reaching out for the bark with my hand shakinh in dread.

'Look at me', I said, hoping that Harry would, hoping to see her eyes, the Avada Kedavra green that gave my heart a fluttering beat. Hoping for the forgiveness that I needed from her to finally be mine through her wonderful, wondeful boy.

My memories trickled into the small vial, my actions and the consequences that led to it, finally catalouged just before my death. How... fitting.

I saw the boy scurry up the steps, wiping his own tears on his sleeves. Stupid dunderhead, didn't he know how horrible that is for his eyes?

I let out a sigh as I began meditating to find my magical core and assess whether I could certainly transform into my animagus. A python was no easy transformation, I always dropped my magical level by ten percent for every one. I searched, deeper and deeper into my core until I found the web of colorful energy, zapping around against the poison that was claing inside of me. The problem with magical pythons like Nagini and me was this one thing, we killed wizards and magical beasts using a venom that was not for our non magical counterparts, this venom depleted the innate magic until the victim had to expend his life source to heal himself - the only cure was an ice pheonix feather potion. Fortunately, my core hadn't reached ten percent yet, which allowed me enough to change into a python until I was sufficiently healed. I slowly pictured the magic flowing through my veins, slowly changing my code to take up that of thr snake's. The reason why animagi were so rare was that every animagous had two sets of DNA, one of themselves, and one made by their magic itself.

I arched my back and slithered into the bushes leaving behind my shed human skin, to find a delicious rat if he was still around. I smacked my forked tongue in delight, Wormtail would be mine!

My eyes quickly scanned the area to find towering giants all across the perimeter. I needed to get away! Daft stupid Voldemort, not knowing the knowledge that would be helpful to him and instead plundering for some ancient and unheard of legend of stupid Hallows. Death was certainly ironic to give weapons to lead to death again; if I were death I would have secluded myself to live all alone while the stupid humans could live forever and destroy one another without disturbing my slumber. If I were death.

My senses piqued as I sensed the traitorous rat as well as Fenrir Greyback the vile wolf, sprawled at the entrance of Hogwarts. My cold blood churned at the smell of blood on the wolf's lips, how dare he! I poised to attack and struck his neck. Blood pooled from my vicious bite - no less than he deserved!

I slithered on down the horrid steps all the way to my dungeons, where humans littered the corridors like dead mice. Blood was strewn everywhere, my greusome potion shelves no match for the atrocious sight before me. My poor poor snakes, dead with their slytherin emblems marred in blood and sweat. My slit eyes took a vicious glint as fury burned in my veins against their murderers - not all of them were evil, they were children, my little snakelets for Gods sakes!

I quickly passed into my older office, bypassing my headmaster protocols and slithering into the grate and vanishing from the battle field before anyone suspected me of being Nagini amd murdering me again. I was the Head of Slytherin, I was going to be the best at self preservance.

May was a terrible month for a python, and I felt it very well as I sweltered in the Summer heat. Add to it the fumes that came at Spinners End and the smog that covered the sky; I was lucky to be alive.

Potter was still in danger, no matter that he had killed the Dark Lord. His minions survived, and they would be out for vengeance. I knew that Bellatrix might have been insane, but they were saner people than her who were more ruthless still surviving. The younger recruits were even more foolish than the weathered death Eaters. We were hoping to win but we were also prepared to die. Life rates dropped a lot when you were crucioed on a daily basis for breakfast lunch and dinner; and we didnt have horcruxes, now did we? The younger recruits hadnt tasted the bitter brew of life yet, and like Draco Malfoy and his visions of grandeur, they jumped the ship hoping for eternal glory - the fools!

I sucked in a breath in the memory of my godson. Was he alive? Had he been killed for his foolish mistake too? He was only trying to save his father and his own life. Gryffindors had the doctrine of 'dying for the honor since living would be idiotic' well instilled, but my dear Slytherins lived to survive for the other day; that proved to be their folly, our folly, my folly.

Then there were my childhood nemeses: Potter, Black and Lupin. Heroes, but dead. Was there truly a life after death? Lily was my salvation, but she died too. Regulus was a friend who helped me when my classmates bullied me for being a half-blood, and he died fighting for the light too. I laughed as a tear fell from my eye,'Ha! Everyone I loved, everyone I cared for, Everyone who made me who I am- they are all dead? Why the hell am I alive? Why the hell didn't death take me too? What? I am not worth death either? Why the hell do I have to suffer? What did I do to deserve no one at all?"

Lily, those bright green eyes, that wonderful face, those rosy red lips and those curly red hair framing her face with her curls cascading down her shoulders. Oh Lily!

"I will help your son grow up, Lily. I am so sorry I tormented him so much but all he reminded me of was you and James. I resented him for resenting James choosing you over me.

"I am so sorry Lily, I am so sorry for thinking of you as just a trophy and someone who was just always going to be there. I didnt mean to call you a mudblood, but I was afraid of looking weak. I should have known Malfoy and Mulciber and Avery were nothing like friends, but I sought their approval over yours and I deserved everything and more for throwing away your friendship just for a chance to climb the social ladders of Slytherin."

I sobbed as I recalled her crestfallen face as I called her a mudblood. I wasnt just calling her the child of a muggleborn, I was telling her that she would never amount to as much as me and the purebloods - worse than that, I was telling her that I thought Voldemort was right, that muggleborns dirtied our blood and reduced our magic. Oh how wrong I was, oh how wrong I was! Voldemort was a half blood, I was a half blood, Potter was a half blood - and nothing would have happened if it werent for the two most brilliant minds Hogwrats had seen - Lily Evans and know-it-all Granger.

"Harry James Potter, son of Lily and James Potter; I will help you become the greatest sorcerer since Merlin. I am sorry, I am so sorry Potter."

I slithered off to the grate and curled up near the hearth after flicking at the electric switch. I coiled tighter and fell into a deep slumber, hoping that the magical exhaustion wouldnt leave me a squib.

Two days later, I woke up refreshed. I tried to stretch out but all I did was straighten my snake form.

"Oh damn it!" I hissed.

The events of May the second dawned back on me and I hissed furiously again. 'How long have I been asleep? What if Potter's dead? I doubt he would have taken my portrait and had the portkey activated,' I thought.

"Damn it," I hissed again as I tried looking for my core to no avail. 'Am I a squib now?'

'Clear your mind Sev,'I chided myself, cocooning back into my nice warm coil as a cold draft hit me.'Okay, find the heat, find that warmth that calls me back... C'mon Sev.'

Struggling to find any sort of heat as my form fought the impulse to hunt was difficult - in fact, I would have said impossible if my greasy locks didn't frame my face in under a minute of fighting my own DNA counterpart.
"Black, I salute you. How did you manage to change and change back at Azkaban with those dementors around? Give me an answer when I get to the afterlife, if I do. Then again, you were a mangy old mutt, so maybe that has to do with it too. Reptiles being superior creatures and all. Parseltongue does prove snakes are sentient unlike other animals, doesn’t it?"
It was ironic really; I was a snake in the literal sense as well as being a Slytherin, and yet my patronus was something I really liked eating in my Snake form - does and stags are simply delicious and very succulent, I think only rabbits beat them. I wondered whether, had I known how to turn into my animagus form, would I have eaten James Potter when Black played that awful murdering prank? That would have been black humor at its finest, explaining to Dumbledore that they planned to murder me, but I ended up eating them, Dumbledore couldn't have laughed that off - the manipulative old coot.

Dumbledore brought about another can of worms; what sort of headmaster did we have who willingly wished for a student to commit bloody suicide! Raising Potter like a Pig for slaughter; I knew he was senile, but that was just mental! And now Potter could either be dead, have killed Voldemort or he could have been murdered by Voldemort's vicious stooges. Yippee, Hallelujah! God save the imbecilic minds of Gryffindorish foolishness! Knowing Potter, he would have actually gone to die, and while I was somewhat apprehensive of the child dying (Seriously, six years of almost deaths and he miraculously survives, that has gotta be awful Karma) I was still afraid he would actually be dead and Voldemort would kill me all over again and probably more painfully. Allegiance to the wand and what not.

I braced myself and sighed in distress while running a hand through my hair. I lit the fire with my mother's wand which lay on the mantelpiece and sat on the stuffy moth-eaten leather recliner that Father used to sit on with a cigar in hand.

I had to make a plan, and that's what I sat to do.