The mist swirled as it was disturbed by his rapid footsteps. The sound of his heavy soles against the cobblestone echoed through the seemingly peaceful night. Severus Snape's mind however, was anything but peaceful. His breathing was ragged as he was not used that much physical exertion. If only he was not too late. There at the end of the street the house came into view. An old cottage surrounded by a garden filled with the withering blooms of autumn. There was light still in some windows. The door was ajar. His pulse quickened as he fought the urge to sprint again. The moment he entered the door he was met by a pair of cold, lifeless, blue eyes which stared at him from the floor. There was no fear in Potter's dying face. As Severus quickly passed by the body he didn't fail to notice that there was no wand in the dead man's hand. So you died as you lived. A foolish Gryffindor. But as much as he had detested the man he couldn't help but think to himself that James's attempts to save his family had been every bit as successful as his own attempts to save Lily.

That was when he heard the faint weeping of a child. He followed it upstairs and entered a child's bedroom. Ignoring the crying toddler in the crib he fell to his knees as the reality of it all hit him in the stomach – punching all the air out of him. There was no sign of the Dark Lord. There, in the corner of the room surrounded by broken furniture and toys – as if blasted into the wall, she lay. Blood was running down her face. Her arms and legs were twisted in angles that would make most medics sick to their stomach. Pieces of wood and plastic protruded from some of the many damp, dark red spots covering her clothing. He crawled towards her as if in a daze. Lily! Lily, don't do this to me! This wasn't supposed to happen! His mind babbled as his senses tried to make sense of it all. But there was no making sense of it. There was no sense in death, blood and sorrow. He understood that. There was no sense without her. As the neglected child continued to sob and cry out for his mother, Severus reached out and gently touched her cheek – swiping away blood as one would tears. ”Lily,” he whispered but he couldn't find the words to express what he felt. He carefully lifted her torso slightly, almost cradling her as he wrapped his arms around her and wept into her bright red hair. She was so cold. How could she be so cold? The tears blurred his vision as he cried out in pain. A faint hiss was heard as he rocked her slightly back and forth. ”Lily, I can't. Not without you. Please.” As he cried out of despair the ragged sound of air being inhaled came again. His eyes widened in surprise and the tears continued to fall in a mixture of fear and relief. She still lived! He had no time to consider how or why. He could not wait for others to arrive and so he took a chance. Knowing full well the wards were still in place he carefully lifted her from the floor, at once both joyous and worried to hear her faint hiss as her limps were moved. He carried her as quickly as he dared outside, out of the wards and disapparated, leaving the small boy behind.

---

Severus was ready to punch through the wall. I swear if the brat doesn't shut up... He had alternated between pacing up and down the hospital corridor and shaking as he sat in the waiting room. On a chair not far enough away for Severus' liking was the baby, all wrapped up in the baby carrier. The exhausted nurse sitting with the boy tried in vain to distract the boy with a piece string much as if he was a kitten, but it was no use. The boy was crying again. He had arrived not many hours after Severus and Lily. Apparently Dumbledore had sent the half-giant for him and when they learned where Lily was they had decided to bring the baby. Severus' dark clad dusty form was in sharp contrast to the polished white brightness of St. Mungo's. The situation was unfamiliar as well. Here he was, waiting for a verdict. Would she live or die? And there was nothing he could do anymore. He was powerless. And that blasted boy is getting on my last nerve! He sneered at the child. Potter's spawn was beginning to tire but seemed unable to settle down in the unfamiliar surroundings without either of his parents. The sound of heels clicking caused Severus to leap from his chair, his heart racing. If this was another bloody nurse... He has been waiting for hours for any news but nothing so far.

”Mr Snape?” questioned a woman's voice. ”I'm Healer Chen, may I speak with you?”

”Absolutely,” growled Severus as he rubbed his temples. What did she think he had been waiting for all this time? Did she think he just enjoyed sitting in waiting rooms next to howling children?

”First I would like to ask you some questions. This should have been done earlier but we needed all hands on deck so to speak. What is the nature of your relation to the patient?”

”I'm... A friend of the family,” said Severus. That wasn't in anyway true but the truth would likely get him kicked out.

”I see,” said Healer Chen. ”It is lucky you brought her in when you did. In fact it is a miracle she was still alive when you found her.”

”Does she live?” snapped Severus impatiently.

”Mr Snape,” began Healer Chen slowly. ”She lives... Barely.”

”What's that supposed to mean?”

”We've had to put her in a coma to prevent her from going into shock. I will not lie to you, sir, it's looking grim. The broken bones can be fixed to some extent though the damage is severe. However...”

”What?” whispered Severus as he felt the blood draining from his face.

”She will never be the same. The were fractures to the spine, severe neurological damage as well as damage to the brain. Our Healers are doing everything they can for her. It will be a slow process. She will improve but we cannot say how much. I know this must be hard to hear.”

”When will she wake up?” He didn't like her sleeping. Chen had said nothing but he knew that patients didn't always wake up – despite the magic.

”When we have her stabilized. She will be kept in a coma for at least a week depending on her improvement,” replied the healer. ”I must return. I will have you written up in the files so you may come and see her once visiting is permitted. You must get some sleep as well. Do you know who will come for the boy? We have checked him and he seems to be unharmed.”

”I know who to contact,” mumbled Severus. The healer nodded and walked back down the corridor.

Severus sank into his chair. The nurse had been defeated by her own fatigue and was now sleeping in her seat next the now silent baby. The boy stared at him with sorrowful green eyes. Did he know? How could he know? He only knew his parents weren't there.

It's all your fault. Severus glared at the child before hiding his face in his hands.

---

It was mid November, but despite autumn still being very much in effect the stores were already beginning to stock ornaments and holiday inspired objects. The wizarding world was celebrating the defeat of Lord Voldemort. All of this happened without Severus Snape noticing. His life for several weeks had been as grey and uniform as the mist he had braved to defy on that dark night. It seemed ages ago yet so recent. The memories were as fresh as ever yet the hours became years as he dragged himself through the days in continued existence. There was only one thing he lived for these days: A redheaded woman lying motionless in a bed at St. Mungo's. He hadn't even gone to aid in Black's capture though he was sorely tempted because he knew he couldn't face the man without blowing him to bits. The boy was currently being cared for by Lily's sister which was Dumbledore's arrangement. Severus despised the woman but he had no objection to the boy being both out of sight and out of mind. It was early morning when he entered her room. She was paler than ever and very thin. Her breathing was steady if faint and it was the main reason Severus chose to spend every waking hour that he wasn't called for by Albus Dumbledore here with her. It was the most beautiful sound in the world. Two bedside tables held several vases with flowers. When first the news had spread, Lily's room had been a jungle of flowers and the nurses had to throw fresh flowers in the bin daily to make room for more. Now, the amount of flowers dwindled steadily as the world's focus turned to the now buried hero James Potter and the mystery of their son, the boy-who-lived. To most Lily was a victim, yes, but an innocent bystander in what people imagined to have been the greatest showdown on earth. Tales did tend to grow tall.

These days most of the flowers came from Severus who brought her fresh ones as often as he could afford it, which was nearly every day as he spend nearly nothing on food. Today, he carried with him a bouquet of white carnations. He smiled as he saw her sleeping face and moved to place the flowers on the table. The nurses would soon see to them. He reached out and touched her hand. It was cold and he tried to warm it in his own. Severus didn't think about what Lily would say if she knew he was there, if she knew what had happened to her husband or if she knew what Severus had asked of the Dark Lord. She was calm and serene. She was beautiful. Despite her state, Severus couldn't see anything but the woman he loved, the beauty he had befriended in his childhood. Sometimes he spoke to her. When the doors were closed and they were alone. He told her what day it was and about who her flowers were from. Sometimes he read to her.

Albus Dumbledore had theories about what had happened but Severus was only angered by them. James' sacrifice had possibly caused ancient magic to protect the boy. Magic that even Dumbledore didn't truly understand. Just what he needed... James as a hero. When the Dark Lord attempted to kill the child he himself was killed. But Lily was the one who truly suffered. She had been blasted near to bits by the magic that killed Lord Voldemort. Severus didn't know whether to blame the boy, James or the Dark Lord for this but he hated them all.

”I brought you carnations,” he mumbled to the sleeping woman.

”S... Uhh...”

His heart skipped at beat and he froze momentarily before turning to face the young woman. Her eyes were closed and she lay perfectly still. The disappointment was enough to bring tears to his eyes. But then... He could have sworn her finger moved. In the next moment, three healers burst through the door, clearly alerted by the monitoring spells.

”Stand aside, young man!” cried an older man as he withdrew his wand and began scanning Lily. Severus was forced to retreat to the corner where he stood silently, watching her face, hoping. Suddenly a glimpse of green as her eyes slid slightly open before closing again. He felt like crying and laughing at the same time but he smiled through the tears as her eyes once again opened and stared at him. I'm so sorry, Lily. I will never leave you again!

---

And those words were true. Severus continued visiting the hospital every day and he sat by the weakened woman and held her hand. The staff had long since realized that he was not simply a 'friend of the family' but no one had the heart to deny him entrance. Especially since none of her remaining blood relations had come. He was the first to hear the bad news. Lily would most likely never walk again. That weighed nothing with him. But what was disturbing was when the healers found she had suffered partial memory loss due to the damage to her brain. She remembered nothing about the night of the attack, she couldn't remember her sister getting married, many things were hazy for her. Severus didn't know if she remembered their argument. If she did she didn't mention it. Even when they informed her that James was dead she hardly cried. Severus suspected she already knew. She rarely spoke. She was a far cry from the fierce girl he had known. She was always exhausted but she smiled whenever Severus came to visit her and he had begun to live for that. It was oddly enough more than a week before she spoke of the boy. Severus had been reading to her, poetry, when she had interrupted him.

”Harry...”

The name hung is the room as silence fell.

”Harry... I had... Where is he?”

”It's okay, Lily,” Severus assured her. ”He is safe. He is being well cared for.”

Lily had turned her head and said nothing more. That suited Severus well. He didn't like to think of the boy. None the less he had too. As time went by and Christmas arrived, Lily began to ask for him more often. By now she was in a wheelchair and able to move about a bit. Severus would occasionally walk with her in the garden. One such day she was wrapped in blankets as he pushed her around the yard when she spoke:

”Severus, I'm not sure... But... I think I remember something. You were there? You came for me, didn't you?”

”I did,” he replied.

”Why?”

He hesitated. ”Because I love you.”

”I know,” she said as if he had told her the sky was blue.

”Does it upset you?” he asked.

”No,” she said silently as she reached for his hand. ”Thank you. For all you've done. You are my hero.”

Severus swallowed the festering guilt and took her hand in his as he kneeled by her side.

”I am nothing without you.”

Harry Potter was known in the village of Athlea as a quiet boy. Public opinion on whether the now ten year old was a well behaved boy was divided between a group of people who had either spoken to him, observed nothing bad or simply disliked Severus Snape. This was a rather large portion of the villagers. Another, smaller, group believed that despite Snape's reputation, as much as he corrected the boy he had to have done something. Of course the population of the small muggle village knew very little about the boy or the family residing at Prince Manor as a whole for that matter. Some years ago Lord Prince, the elderly owner of the manor, had died and as far as they could tell the place had been deserted until his English grandson moved in with his pretty disabled wife and his stepson. The new owner was not well liked in the village but the family mainly kept to themselves and so they were rarely the topic of conversation. They seemed happy enough at least. They had, or so it was said, a deal of money and who wouldn't be happy then?

Of course the inhabitants of the little Irish village hardly knew the truth of the matter. Neighbors rarely do. For a man who had come into moderate wealth at a young age, Snape was in most aspects mature beyond his years and rather frugal. He had never wanted anything from his grandfather nor would he have accepted anything had it not been for Lily. Lily, who following her recovery needed special care and comfortable surroundings that Severus, an unemployed young Potions Master at the time, could not provide. Furthermore she was his now and from the moment she agreed to marry him he had vowed she would receive nothing but the best. Severus was of the opinion that he had done very well. After all he had simply nodded when Lily had demanded that her son be brought to her. Then he was fetched from Petunia's home and Severus was not in the least surprised to see her joy at being rid of the then two and a half year old boy. He was after all a Potter. And he was proved correct as the child was nothing but noise and mess.

Lily was fragile. She was easily confused, excited and had trouble focusing and remembering things at times. She could not raise a child. Severus would not raise that child. And due to Lily's disability there would be no more children. So, his grandfather's will was a blessing in disguise. Severus knew very well that the only thing his grandfather thought was worse than letting his half blood grandson inherit was leaving it to the remaining nearest of kin who were all either bastards or female.

These days Harry barely remembered his aunt and uncle and recollected nothing of his cousin though he knew they existed. His world consisted entirely of Prince Manor and Athlea. Once his tutor, Mr Browne, had made him read a bit of a book called Bleak House. Harry couldn't recall what it was about but ever since, that had been his secret name for Prince Manor.

Prince Manor was situated in the middle of a very large walled garden which in turn was separated from Athlea by forest. It was a large foreboding three story building, the oldest surviving parts of which were 16th century. Later, Victorian wings in neogothic style added gloom to the facade. Most of the interior was dark. The house had countless doors – some of which were hidden. Mahogany and dark green being reoccurring themes is was a beautiful but anything but cheerful place. The only exception was the Summer Room. Harry knew it had once been a playroom but these days it was his mother's room. It was his favorite place in the whole world. It was also one of the many rooms which he was forbidden from entering without permission. Not that his mum minded, no, but others did. This May morning Harry sat crouched on the grand staircase, hiding behind the balustrade as he looked through the open door into the Summer Room.

The room was round. The wall paper in there was light green with flowers in many colors. The furniture was made from light wood and the huge window overlooked the flower gardens. Harry wasn't allowed to play in the flower gardens. He couldn't remember ever seeing Snape in that garden either. He suspected it was only kept to provide the splendid view from the Summer Room. His mother was seated at her desk with her back to Harry. Her red hair was up in a bun and he could hear the scratching of her quill on parchment. The light coming from the windows framed her. He longed to go in there and hug her. But he knew he couldn't. Things had not always been this way. He had faint memories of the flat where they had all once lived. Him, mum and Snape. His mum had been sick then too but she was always there. Then they had moved to the bleak house. At first his mother had lived with his stepfather, moving between the first and ground floor via an old lift which Harry not only found scary but he was also forbidden from using by himself. Back then his mother had been getting better. Sometimes all three would walk into town so she could do some shopping and she would roll about the gardens in her chair with Harry, watch him play and draw with him. But it wasn't like that now. Mum had gotten worse some years ago and Snape had moved her to the Summer Room which had up until then been unused. Since then Harry had been forbidden from entering without another adult because he might 'upset' her. She had gotten better since, worse yet again and then better but the restrictions remained the same.

Harry could hear her humming softly and he smiled, wondering if it was worth it getting told off for going inside. But then he heard footsteps from the ground floor and silently crept back up the staircase. Getting seen doing anything but, or nothing of, what one had been told to do was never good. His fears were confirmed when Madam Aoife appeared at the foot of the stairs, carrying a tray with his mother's afternoon tea. Harry hid in the corridor on the second floor and heard Aoife speak as she neared the Summer Room.

”Mrs Snape, your tea is ready,” said the woman with cold politeness.

”Oh, thank you, Aoife, just put it on the side table. I am almost finished.”

”My Lady, you hardly ate lunch. You must...”

”Oh, you fuss over me!” laughed Lily, seemingly unaware of Aoife's indifference.

Harry hadn't always understood and asking too many questions in this house was never a good idea but he knew perfectly well that when Aoife called his mother a 'Lady' and his stepfather a 'Lord' is was by no means meant as a sign of respect or admiration. In fact they were not at all noble though Harry had learned the previous owner had been. Aoife seemed intent on pointing it out in this manner at every opportunity. At the young age of ten Harry already knew what hate was and he knew the only person he hated more than his stepfather was Aoife Prince, the housekeeper. He had also noticed that Aoife and his stepfather seemed to hate each other even more than they hated Harry. He had once asked Mr Browne why she was still around. He had picked a day when he had done particularly well. Mr Browne was not an unkind man but nor was keen on sharing that kind of information.

”She's your stepfather's great-aunt,” he had replied. ”She comes with the house as per Lord Prince's will.”

Harry hadn't understood at the time what exactly that meant but he knew better than to push his luck and so returned to his math. Out of the eight other people who worked or lived in the house he was only getting on with three. Residing in Prince Manor were the family, Madam Aoife, Lizette Sinclair – his mother's nurse and the two house elves, Brin and Orla. Mr Browne and Phil the Gardener both lived in Athlea. Harry knew Phil was the only one there who wasn't 'magic' but apparently he knew about it. His mother had called him something but Harry couldn't recall the word.

”Daydreaming?” sneered a voice above him and Harry was rudely brought back from his thoughts. He looked up to find the pallid, bony face of the elderly woman he despised. A smirk formed on her lips. Aoife had dark eyes. Almost as dark as Snape's and in the dim corridor she looked like a vulture circling about a fresh corpse. She grabbed his arm and pulled him to his feet. Harry winced and fought the urge to cry out as her fingers tightened around his upper arm.

”You don't get to lie about here!” she hissed as she hauled him down the corridor. Near the end she dragged him up a smaller flight of stairs and flung a door open and pushed Harry inside with such a force that he ended up on the floor. ”Get to work!” she snapped as she closed the door and left him alone in his room. It wasn't large. There was just enough room for his bed, his desk and his wardrobe. The walls were grey and there was only one small window which could not be opened. He didn't always live here. He used to have a different room where his mother often came to visit. He had been moved when she had been and now she never entered. His room was in the attic beneath the roof and she could not come here since the elevator didn't go higher than the second floor. Harry got up from the floor and sat down at his desk where his homework lay waiting. He clutched his arm and swore under his breath. No doubt it would bruise again. He already had a few. He hid them to the best of his ability because if his mother saw them she would worry and fuss and his stepfather would yell at him for being clumsy and upsetting his mother.

It was no use telling his stepfather that he didn't just fall because Snape rarely if ever believed a word he said. He dared not tell his mother for she seemed to trust Aoife and besides he was afraid she might get ill again. Harry couldn't do his homework, he was to queasy. Already a huge shadow hung over his life and now he was certain he had a scolding from his stepfather to look forward to as well. Unlike Aoife's words, Snape's words still hurt him though he didn't like to admit it. He had never liked Aoife nor had he tried to or been required to. Snape was different. When Harry was younger he had tried his best to be good around him. The man's shortness and indifference had been taken as a challenge by the small child who worked hard if not for his stepfather's affection then at least for a kind word now and then. It had been all for naught. Snape was indifferent to him in his mother's presence and antagonistic when she was absent. Harry remembered a time when he had called the man father. Back then he had been too young to understand the look on the man's face or why he stepped away whenever Harry tried to hug him. His mother had been overjoyed, however, and Harry learned when he was older how to use this against Snape. Once the realization hit that Snape didn't like him and had no desire to try, Harry grew angry. He threw fits, he disobeyed Snape at every turn, he refused to let anything go his way. The only exception had been in his mother's company where he had been as good as he could and repeatedly called Snape 'father'. It made his mother smile and it made Snape fume. But the dark man did not object in front of his wife. The punishment came later.

He looked at the clock. A few hours until Snape came home. A few years prior he had accepted a job as a teacher at a school and every day he flooed to work, leaving Harry in Mr Browne and Madam Aoife's care as Lily was considered too unwell to be able to handle him. When he came home from work he was tired and agitated and naturally that was usually when Aoife decided to inform him of Harry's misdeeds. Half the time she told the story wrong which made Harry look much worse and sometimes when he hadn't done a thing, she would make something up. Both Aoife and Snape had often reminded him that they couldn't wait until he was 'out', but ever since Snape had become a teacher his standpoint had changed to 'I cannot believe I am to suffer your presence daily regardless of what I do'.
Harry had always known he was to go away to school because both his mother and stepfather had spoken of it often. He used to be excited about the idea. There wouldn't be any Aoife, no S... Well, no Aoife anyway and he would be with other kids his own age. He used to attend the school in Athlea but that hadn't lasted long. Harry suspected Snape thought he enjoyed it too much and so now he spent his days with Mr Browne. Escaping Prince Manor had been all he could think of but he no longer felt that way. This summer he would turn eleven and have to leave for Hogwarts. It was now he realized that, yes, Aoife wouldn't be there but the truth was that neither would his mother. He already barely spent time with her! How could he survive seeing her only at holidays with the added horror of having his stepfather as a teacher on top? Ever since Mr Browne had remarked upon his approaching birthday, Harry had felt empty inside.

Later that day there was a rapping on his door. Harry knew it was Orla, telling him that dinner was ready. Orla was the only one besides Harry's mother who actually liked Harry. Mr Browne simply didn't dislike him. Harry got up from his bed, groaning. Seven thirty o'clock already. So Snape had to have arrived home by now. Aoife had had plenty of time to speak with him and Harry dreaded sitting across from him. He knew he'd say nothing while his mother was there but as soon as Lizette took her back upstairs all hell usually broke loose. He quickly put on a clean shirt and shuffled down the stairs and into the dining room on the ground floor. His mother was already seated at the rather large dining table, looking oddly out of place in her light blue summer dress against the dark emerald wallpaper. Snape was standing at the window with his back to Harry.

”Oh, hello dear! We're having potato soup, isn't that nice?” smiled his mother as Harry took his seat at the far end of the table. Snape silently took his place at the other end with Lily on his right. He didn't even look at Harry. That didn't bode well. Snape smiled briefly at his wife as the dinner appeared in front of them. Harry tried his best to keep his eyes fixed on the yellow soup in front of him.

”How was your day?” asked Lily before she blew on her soup.

”Challenging,” growled Snape. ”Two cauldron explosions.”

Lily giggled. ”Oh, Sev! Like we never exploded anything!”

”Not making textbook potions,” argued Snape. ”I doubt any of my students are bright enough to experiment as we did.”

”I finished all my letters,” smiled Lily. ”I thought you might read to me later. I've missed you all day.”

”Certainly,” replied Snape, glancing briefly at Harry who nearly choked on his spoon from the power of the glare. ”That reminds me, Lily, I have some news. The Headmaster believes I should devote more time to my students and that I'm relying too much on my prefects.”

”So?” asked Lily.

”He has asked that I spend more nights at the school this year. I'm in no way fond of the idea but you know I cannot change jobs at the moment. I wouldn't agree to it if I didn't know the boy would be away from home this year and the staff can devote all their time to you. I would no longer be able to join you here every night although I promise to make it at least thrice a week.”

”I see,” replied Lily sadly. ”I understand. We can't live on what's in the vault forever. It's okay, Sev, you really mustn't blame yourself. Besides, Harry will need you too and I feel much better about my boy going away when I know he still has you to look after him.”

The rest of the dinner was rather quiet. It was clear to Harry that neither his mother nor Snape liked this arrangement very much but neither of them asked what he felt. He didn't like it one bit. He knew his stepfather had taken huge liberties with coming home almost every day especially since he was Head of Slytherin and the students were also his responsibility at night and though he could see the Headmaster's logic he didn't want Snape there more than he needed to be. When at last dinner was over Lizette came and took Lily away and the table cleared. Harry remained in his chair as Snape got up and paced in front of the window. When he finally stopped Harry didn't dare look him in the eye.

”So...” he heard a familiar low voice say. ”You think you can lie about all day, disobey Aoife and disturb your mother?”

Harry kept his gaze on his own knees.

”Do I want to ask if your homework is done?”

Harry closed his eyes. Damn! He'd forgotten about that. In the next moment he was hoisted up by his collar until he was standing on the chair, face to face with his stepfather.

”When I ask you a question I expect an answer!” hissed Snape.

”I'm sorry, sir!” Harry replied in a small voice before Snape released him.

”I have had enough of your attitude! I feed you, clothe you and provide you with an education and all I get in return is your disrespect, you ungrateful little brat! Have you not caused enough trouble? Has your mother not suffered enough because of you? Must you push her entirely into the grave?”

Harry felt his eyes water. He couldn't stand it when Snape spoke about his mother or about how she got hurt.

”I do not envy Aoife in the slightest! Having to put up with you all day! In fact it is a miracle you haven't put her in a hospital bed yet!” Sneered Snape although it was clear he actually had no sympathy for the woman at all.

”She's a liar!” cried Harry as he could no longer pretend.

”Be quiet!” roared Snape.

”You never listen to me,” sniffed Harry.

”That would hardly be worth my time since everything coming out of that mouth of yours is either untrue or an insult! I should have left you with your aunt! I could have saved myself a few grey hairs and your mother a great deal of pain!”

”You know what! Go away! Go away to Hogwarts! Mum won't miss you! Nobody will miss you! She would be happy with me! She'll be happy you're gone!” cried Harry in despair but instantly regretted it as he saw the murderous look in the tall man's back eyes.

”I'm sorry! I didn't mean it! I'm sorry!” he mumbled as he jumped off the chair and back up against the wall.

”You will be,” sneered his stepfather. He grabbed the boy by his upper arm, ignoring the cry that escaped the boy and dragged him back to the chair where he sat down and swiftly pulled the already crying boy over his knee.

”I'm sorry,” sniffed Harry but he knew perfectly well it wouldn't make any difference.

A week had passed without any larger confrontations as Harry had tried his best to avoid Aoife and his stepfather. That of course meant indirectly avoiding almost everyone else. He was becoming increasingly nervous as the arrival of his Hogwarts letter was drawing nearer. Harry was sitting in the gardens up his favorite tree with his history book on his lap. It was an old crooked tree with many thick branches. Phil had told him once what kind it was but he couldn't remember. Harry usually hid in the tree when Aoife was in a foul mood and just before breakfast she had been yelling at a teary Orla in the entrance hall. He had seen her picture in the gallery. The entire Prince line was there. Mr Browne had pointed it out to him. Of course she was much younger in the portrait. In Harry's opinion she was ugly then and she was ugly now. Her black hair had turned silver grey and her cheeks had become more sunken but she had clearly always had the look of a bird of prey. There was no picture of Harry's family, naturally, just as there was no picture of anyone named 'Snape' before Harry's parents. Then again, Harry hadn't looked closely in years as he didn't like going through the gallery on his own. The pictures would stare and point at him. They moved their lips but no sound came – often to their own frustration. Harry knew many portraits could talk and he wasn't sure who spelled these silent.

He had been debating for days what to do. The more he thought about Hogwarts, the more certain he was that he didn't want to go. But what was he going to do? Sadly, he was sure his mother wasn't likely to understand. She always spoke of her schooldays as one of the happiest times of her life. He couldn't see Snape agreeing to it either. Perhaps if he was really, really nice to his mother she wouldn't be able to let him go? But how was he going to manage that with Aoife watching her like a hawk? Just talking to Lily might well be related to Snape as banging pots and pans repeatedly in her bedroom.

”Harry...” said a familiar low voice somewhere beneath him. Harry snapped out of it and glanced down to see his cross-armed stepfather standing below the tree. Startled, Harry dropped the book, which fell through the air until Snape quickly caught it mid air. ”I'm glad to see you've brought some appropriate literature,” continued Snape. ”Although I would have preferred to see the book opened.”

Harry was very close to telling him he didn't give a rat's arse what he preferred but wisely kept that to himself. ”I was just thinking.”

”I see,” replied Snape, raising an eyebrow as though he doubted that statement. ”Tea is ready. You're late!”

”Oh, I forgot,” mumbled Harry as he jumped to the ground. He didn't have much time to regain his footing before he felt a push in his back as Snape steered him towards the house.

”You forgot? Do we not have tea every Saturday?” he sneered. ”Brush yourself off, boy! And don't let your mother see you jumping out of trees like an animal! Does she have to worry about you cracking your skull?”

Harry didn't reply but simply shuffled along.

”For the future would it be too much to ask that you be prompt so Aoife and I do not have to search the grounds for you? Or must I have Binn watch you again?”

Harry didn't reply to that at which Snape narrowed his eyes. Harry was too busy thinking about what he should do about the school. As they entered the salon, Snape placed the book on the table and took a seat next to Lily.

”Hello, Harry? Lost in your books?” she smiled at him as he sat down.

Harry knew Snape hadn't told Aoife to stop searching for Harry and likely wasn't going to since having her run around aimlessly was rather enjoyable to him. That only meant she was going to be in a particularly foul mood later on.

”Hi, mum! Sorry I'm late!”

Snape huffed slightly at that, but Lily didn't seem to notice.

”Have a muffin, dear. Oh, Sev, I was thinking I should go in the garden today.”

”It's too hot,” Snape commented partly into his teacup. ”You'll need a parasol and plenty of water. I'll have Lizette see if there is any ice.”

”It's fine. I'll manage. And you said you'd be in the garden today anyway.”

”I need to tend to the ingredients, yes,” he replied. ”There is a lot of work to do.”

”I'll help you then,” nodded Lily.

”You shouldn't exert yourself, Lily. I'll have Lizette take you around the roses.”

”Let Harry help you then! It would be good for you to spend some time together. You work so much and I'm sure Harry could need a break from his reading.”

Snape hesitated and was clearly trying to think of something to say. He glanced at Harry but Harry wasn't going to be the one to tell his mother no and be the one looking bad so he smiled as innocently as he could.

”If you think it's best,” Snape sighed to Lily's satisfaction.

Harry nibbled at his blueberry muffin. Should he try to appeal to his mother. Would be better to wait until Snape wasn't present? But perhaps he would object less if he managed to convince her here.

”Mum?” he said quietly. ”Did you like Hogwarts?”

Lily blinked and slowly put down her teacup. ”Why, yes! Of course I did.”

”We will see how long the castle stands with him attending,” mumbled Snape.

”Are you nervous, honey?” asked Lily as she reached for Harry's hand.

”Well...”

”It's alright, dear! It's perfectly normal! But you'll see, you'll get your letter soon and then we can go shopping for you. And once you get there I promise you'll love it!”

”How would you know,” muttered Harry. ”You won't see me all year!”

”Don't use that tone with your mother,” snapped Snape as he leveled Harry with a stern look.

”Oh, Harry! You'll be too busy with your friends to think about me,” smiled Lily. ”I bet I'll be lucky if I get a letter a month!” She chuckled lightly.

”You're not listening to me!” huffed Harry in desperation. Pleading with his mother clearly wasn't as easy as he had thought it would be.

”As much as I'm certain you'll find yourself plenty of trouble, and Merlin knows I have enough students to reign in as it is, lying about at home will hardly make you a productive adult. Besides I have no intention of paying for the required private lessons. However... I'm sure Durmstrang is still taking students...”

”Severus!” cried Lily. ”My son is going to Hogwarts and that's final!”

”But mum!”

”No, buts! You'll see you'll like it there! You'll learn all about magic and I'll still be here and you'll come see me in the holidays. Besides your father will be there to look after you and...”

”He's not my father!” hissed Harry as he jumped to his feet, balling his fists. ”You know that! And you know what? I bet my real dad would listen to me! I bet he'd let me stay! I bet he'd never send me away!”

Lily froze and Snape looked as though he couldn't decide whether to pounce on Harry or comfort his wife. Harry didn't notice. He just stared into his mother's big green eyes as tears flooded his own. Slowly she began to shake and in the next instance she let out a sob before burying her face in her hands. She made no further sound but her shaking shoulders betrayed her. Harry didn't know what to do with himself. Part of him wanted to apologize and hug her and another wanted to scream out his frustration.

”To your room,” hissed Snape as he protectively put an arm around Lily. ”Get out. Go.”

Harry glared intensely at the man before storming out of the room, slamming the door behind him. He'd broken one of the most important 'rules'. You never talked about James in front of Lily. It always upset her. As a result Harry didn't know much more about him than his name, that he was murdered and that his parents met at school – things he'd mostly gotten from Snape's rants. Harry often wondered if his mother missed him a lot or if she just didn't like Harry speaking about him. Harry bolted up the stairs, probably alarming the entire household as he did so. He was winded when he reached his own room, flung open the door and threw himself on the bed. He lay for several minutes on his stomach as he sobbed into his pillow. He felt absolutely terrible. Now, his mother was crying again and what if she became ill? It would all be Harry's fault. After a while he curled up against the wall. He was half expecting Snape to storm in at any moment and scream at him but the hours went by. Harry was all cried out. He wasn't sure what was expected of him. Should he stay put until he was called for or should he come down and apologize to everyone from his mother to Mr Browne's French bulldog? Not that he wanted to. He just wanted his mum to understand. But it was hard to point out that he never saw her without either accusing her of not seeing him or accusing others of keeping him from seeing her. In the next moment the door flew open but Harry didn't look up at whoever it was.

”Get up!” a sharp voice commanded. Harry didn't move. The last thing he wanted right now was seeing her face. ”Dinner is served, if it pleases your highness!” Aoife snapped. Harry turned and glared at the housekeeper. Binn expertly moved around her heavy black skirts before placing the tray he was carrying on Harry's desk. The boy remained on his bed. So he wasn't expected to come down.

”Doesn't the food please Master Harry?” snarled Binn with as much disgust as he always showed when forced to use that title.

”He'll be fine!”said Aoife. ”Now get a move on!” She kicked Binn the rest of the way out the door before smirking at Harry and slamming it shut. Harry could hear the old house elf muttering on his way down the stairs. He got up from his bed and looked at the tray which held only a bowl of soup. He stuck his finger in the soup and sucked it tryingly. He grimaced as the overwhelming taste of pepper surprised him. That was the danger of eating without Lily and Snape. Both Binn and Aoife hated the presence of the Snape family at the manor but the house elf dared not antagonize the master and mistress of the house in the same way Aoife did as his position was in no way secure there. When Harry was seven he had heard Aoife refer to his mother as a 'mudblood' and later that same day he had curiously asked his mother at dinner whether she had mud blood. His mother had had a blank stare on her face but Snape had gone absolutely crazy. He'd washed Harry's mouth out with soap and sent the very confused child to bed with a sore bottom – he'd even initially grounded Harry for a month. Of course Harry was outside playing again the next day as if nothing had happened due to his mother's intervention. He often wondered what Snape would do if he ever caught Aoife in the act but so far she'd been just careful enough and it hadn't happened. Harry didn't know if he was grounded now. He hoped not. It was the worst punishment because it meant he wouldn't see his mother at meals. It meant pretty much going back and forth between the school room and his bedroom.

He could hear his stomach growl but he wasn't so desperate he'd brave the soup. Well, maybe he should just go down to dinner and speak to his mother. It's not like they could stop him. Aoife hadn't locked the door on him. Harry took a deep breath. He didn't truly think what he'd said was that bad. In fact he rather believed his real father would understand. Considering the amount Snape sneered at his memory he had to have been amazing. Still, he didn't like how upset it made his mother and even more importantly he didn't like having Snape actually have a proper cause to be upset with him. Harry opened the door and peeked out. The stairs to the attic creaked so it was a good idea to listen for someone on the second floor before braving it. Harry slowly moved down the stairs, his sock clad feet making almost no sound. So, long as he didn't bump into Aoife on the way. The door to the dining room was closed and he didn't hear any murmurs of conversation from within. Harry placed his hand on the doorknob. He could probably still make it back upstairs without anyone noticing. Nah, there was no such thing as going back. He turned the doorknob and stepped inside.

Snape looked up at him and froze mid motion for a second before placing his utensils on his plate with a loud cling. Lily wasn't there.

”I was under the impression you would keep to your room.”

”Uhm... Where's mum?” he finally managed to get out.

Snape gave him a disapproving look. ”Why? You didn't think you upset her enough? Your mother is in her room – and you can stop right there,” he said as Harry immediately turned for the door. ”She needs rest now and I'm not about to risk her health by allowing you anywhere near her!”

”But I need to talk to her! I need to apologize!”

”Oh, you will! But not tonight!” replied Snape sternly as he rose from his seat. ”Now get out of my sight before I decide to teach you a lesson!”

Harry was just about to exit when he remembered something. ”Erh, sir? Could I go to the kitchen and get some food first?”

”I believe Aoife already brought you something,” sneered Snape impatiently. ”Out!” He pointed a long bony finger at the door.

”But, Snape...” Harry whined momentarily forgetting that the only thing Snape hated more than Harry calling him 'father' was being referred to by simply his last name since he considered it disrespectful. In a few long steps, Snape was towering over him and had grabbed him by the neck of his shirt and pulled him into the hallway.

”You're more trouble than you're worth! Clearly nothing we do is good enough for James' precious boy! To think I have to suffer seven years of you strutting about Hogwarts being an embarrassment to my family and household!”

Just as they came to the stairs Aoife was walking down it carrying the same tray she had left on Harry's desk.

”Oh, Master Harry!” she smiled with sickening sweetness. ”You should have told me you weren't hungry! Now the food is all cold.”

”I can't eat that,” Harry protested as he wiggled out of Snape's hold. ”She ruined it, Snape!”

Aoife put on a dramatic expression of mortification. His stepfather narrowed his eyes and gestured to the tray. ”And what, pray tell, is wrong with it?”

Harry stared at the tray, now finally noticing that the peppered soup was no longer there. Instead there was a plate of potatoes, beans and meatballs with a large amount of gravy accompanied by a tall glass of water.

”I'm waiting,” said Snape and crossed his arms.

”It's not the same. That's not what she gave me!” Harry objected.

”I do not have the patience for this! If you are too picky to eat what's on offer then you may refrain from doing so! I'm used to you wasting my money by now but don't you dare lie to my face again! I'll break that habit of yours if it's the last thing I do!” said Snape as he turned Harry to the side and landed a firm smack on his backside.

”But I...” yelped Harry, ignoring Aoife's smirk.

”Go to your room and stay there until you can behave yourself!”

Harry hissed. He'd be stuck there forever now! ”FINE!” he yelled and bolted up the stairs. He didn't miss the look on Snape's face nor fail to hear his voice.

”Harry! You come back here! This instance! NOW! Don't you dare speak to me in this manner!”

He didn't listen he knew staying anywhere near Snape now was a bad idea, besides he'd rarely seen the man run and doubted the man would actually try to catch him. He finally reached his room and slammed the door shut behind him. To hell with it all! To hell with Snape! To hell with Aoife! To hell with Hogwarts! Harry didn't own a key to his room so he couldn't lock the door. Instead he crawled under his bed – just in case and curled up! He couldn't explain why but it hurt tremendously to know Snape dreaded even acknowledging Harry in public. Minutes passed. Then he suddenly heard a familiar pop. He peaked out from under the bed and found two slices of bread on his desk. Harry cautiously got up.

”Orla? Is that you?” With a pop the small house elf with the floppy ears appeared, draped in the remains of an old emerald curtain.

”Shhh! Master Harry mustn't speak loud! People's might hear!” Her big round eyes were fearful. Orla was the daughter of Binn and so the lowest ranked person in the house hold. Harry was well aware of how much trouble she'd be in if Binn or Aoife discovered she was helping Harry. It wasn't much she could do but she tried her best whenever she dared take the chance.

”Thanks!” smiled Harry as he took a slice. ”Is he very mad?”

”Oh, Master Severus Sir is very angry,” nodded Orla. ”He has asked Madam Aoife to see that Master Harry doesn't come down or go disturb Mistress. We are's to fetch Master Severus if Master Harry does so.”

Harry nodded and swallowed a bite of bread. ”It's going to be hell going to Hogwarts with him there.”

Orla looked unsure. Harry knew she wouldn't dare speak ill about any of the adults. ”Master Harry must not get in trouble. Orla doesn't think Master Severus would like it if Master Harry got in trouble withs the school.”

Harry paused. He put the bread back and hugged the startled elf. ”Orla, you're a genius!”

”Master Harry is much to kind to Orla,” she replied with confusion and popped away.

Harry ate the rest of the bread on his bed. Why hadn't he thought of it before? He didn't need to plead with the adults – it would never work and nor would being good. No, he needed to be his absolute worst! That way Snape wouldn't dare send him out in public to embarrass him! And even if he did all Harry needed to do was get himself expelled from school and he'd be right back home with his mother! Harry fell back onto the bed with a smile on his face. He'd start on his plan tomorrow. Snape thought he was terrible anyway, what difference would it truly make if he was as bad as Aoife aimed to make him seem?

The next morning Harry was woken up at seven when Aoife waltzed in and pulled the covers off him. After eating his rather bland breakfast porridge, he got dressed and took a deep breath before walking down the stairs. It was Sunday and the worst day to be grounded because he had no lessons to distract him. While on the staircase he heard hushed voices and carefully crept downwards until he could see the door to the Summer Room, slightly ajar. He slowly made his way closer and could recognize the voices of his mother, Snape and Lizette. But why were they whispering? Harry peeked through the crack and saw his mother still sitting in her bed. Snape was sitting at her bedside and Lizette the blonde, round-faced woman seemed to be watching over them like some kind guard.

”I don't know,” said Lily quietly. ”It's too soon.”

”I don't see the harm,” replied Snape.

”Promise,” said Lily as she reached for his hand. Snape looked her in the eyes for a moment before he sighed. He lifted her hand and kissed it, holding it in his own hands as he lowered it back onto the bedcover.

”You're right. You're always right,” he smiled. It made Harry want to retch.

”Sev, remember what I told you earlier. He's just a boy. Would it kill you?”

Snape seemed to give her a look but Harry didn't know what it meant. ”You don't understand,” he began.

”I do,” replied Lily. ”And I think it's ridiculous. It's not what I wanted. I'm sure, I'm sure it's not what you wanted either... And now, you know it needs to be done. It's what I want. Don't you want the same?” She replied with what seemed like heartbreak surfacing in her voice.

”I...” began Snape when the floor under Harry suddenly creaked. In the next moment Lizette flung the door open and glared down at Harry. She gently pushed Harry inside where his mother and stepfather both stared at him. ”Very well,” Snape sighed as he got up. ”I will try. But now I suppose I should deal with our son?”

Lily smiled, seemingly unfazed by the reluctant way Snape spoke the last words. Harry was just about to say a few things about whose son he was and wasn't when Snape took his hand and dragged him out of the Summer Room and up to the second floor.

”Eavesdropping?” he said sharply as he released him. ”I realize I may not have made it clear - having been given no chance, but you're confined to your room for the time being.” The man crossed his arms as if daring Harry to say otherwise. The boy subconsciously mirrored the man's stance and glared right back at him.

”See if I care,” replied Harry with his heart beating speedily. It took all his courage to be doing this – deliberately. Normally he had his anger to fuel him but now all he had was his determination to be contrary.

”Excuse me?” replied Snape with quite a bit of surprise.

”You heard me,” snapped Harry, but then his courage left him and he ran down the stairs and out into the gardens to hide for a while. Unbeknownst to him he left his stepfather behind in an internal battle between his anger and resentment and his commitment to promises he had given.

The weeks passed like slow torture. It was late June and Harry Potter was finding he was a lot braver and more persistent than he'd thought. The tension in the house at this point could be cut into squares. It was summer time and what was meant to be time off for Snape had probably aged him a few years. Things had begun to disappear and reappear around the manor and it was getting on people's nerves. Harry was late for everything and snapped at everyone but Orla and Lily – though he was surprisingly stiff around the latter. Most importantly there was a large amount of laundry that came out stinking of vinegar – although Harry regretted that one because Orla was initially blamed for it. He was grounded of course but everyone had come to realize nothing but a locked door would keep Harry in his room. Harry was sitting on his bed quite puzzled. His stepfather was acting strange. In fact his mother was too. His mother had been very withdrawn and she smiled sadly whenever she saw him. She kept asking him to do things with Snape or help him but Harry couldn't stop now. There was the other thing. He'd expected Snape to blow up within a maximum of two days. It's not that he wanted a spanking – heavens no, but he was surprised it hadn't come to that. In fact Snape seemed to be avoiding him and although he'd scolded him at every turn – Harry had been expecting more. It was almost as if he was struggling not to punish Harry. The vinegar had finally become too much for the man and he'd delivered four good smacks. Perhaps he knew what Harry was doing? Perhaps Harry wasn't doing enough?

Just then Harry jumped at the sound of tapping. It took him a moment to realize it wasn't coming from the door. He turned to find a big brown owl flapping around in front of his window, tapping the glass with its beak.

”Shoot!” muttered Harry as panic took hold of him. ”Shhh! I can't let you in! The window doesn't open!” He wasn't quite sure if the bird could hear him or whether it would matter anyway. Harry didn't have enough seconds in a minute. Despite still being in his pajamas, he opened the door and went down the stairs as fast as he dared, hoping no one was around to hear the creaking steps. At the end of the second floor corridor, near the stairs leading to the attic, was a small wooden door that looked ancient despite being a Victorian addition. The house had three wings, the central part being the original Tudor house. There were four entrances to the attic rooms and four of these little doors near them. Harry opened the door with much difficulty as the wood was heavy and the hinges rarely used. The colder air hid his face and briefly made him shiver as he'd not long ago been in his bed. There were three stone steps up into the little highly decorative neogothic tower. The 'room' wasn't larger than two adults might squeeze in there. It had several small gothic windows but none of them had glass in them.

”Hey!” cried Harry as loudly as he dared. ”Hey, owl? I'm over here!”

Not a moment later the large owl perched in one of the windows and hooted its displeasure. It had an envelope in its claws which it dropped on the floor. Harry picked it up with trepidation.

Mr H. Potter
Prince Manor
17 North Killea Way
Athlea, Ireland

Harry turned the envelope over although he already knew what it would be. He never got any mail. There on the back was a large purple wax seal and the words: Hogwarts School for Witchcraft and Wizardry. He gulped and quickly stuffed the letter inside his shirt. The owl hooted again and Harry realized it likely expected some kind of treat. ”Shoo! I don't have anything! I'm so sorry!” The owl shook itself and snapped at Harry's fingers before it took off. He climbed out of the tower and closed the door behind him before sneaking back into his room.

What was he going to do with that letter? Oh, his mother would be so happy that he finally got it! She'd said she wanted to open it with him. But he'd made a promise to himself. He'd made a plan. Perhaps he should pretend he didn't get it? Should he throw it out? But where could he get rid of it without anyone seeing it or finding it? He'd have to think of something. A place Aoife, the house elves and Snape wouldn't find it or wouldn't think to look for it. Harry smirked. That was it! He'd gotten the perfect idea. He'd have to hide it in Lily's room! Harry dressed quickly and hid the letter inside his shirt.

Harry's heart was beating so terribly fast when he closed the door to the Summer Room behind him. The letter was safe now. Safely dumped behind Lily's desk amidst the dust where no one would look. Now onto greater things! He'd have to do something. What about the basement? Harry wasn't allowed in the basement. That was where Snape kept his potions lab. Mostly it was locked. But not always! He wasn't exactly sure what he was going to do. He'd never been in there so he'd make it up as he went along. At lunchtime he didn't go down into the dining room but instead made his way up the stairs.

”And just what to you think you're doing?” shrieked a voice behind him. Harry turned with a paling face to see Aoife standing there grim and cross-armed. You wouldn't think that a woman as thin and bony as her could be that strong and terrifying. She tapped her wand against her arm ominously. Harry knew she wouldn't dare use magic against him – or at least she hadn't dared yet.

”I was going to my room,” Harry replied.

”Well, if it pleases your Lordship lunch is served in the dining room. Now!” she sneered. Harry glared at her and replied he wasn't going. ”Tsk..Tsk.. It seems someone is being bad again. Won't Master Severus be disappointed to hear it.”

”Why don't you just bring me some food? Isn't that - like, your job or something?” Harry spat. Aoife clearly didn't like that at all and in the next moment she had grabbed Harry by the arm and hauled him along so quickly that Harry didn't make the next step and fell head first on the stair case. She didn't seem fazed as she simply tightened her grip unbearably and dragged him along despite the fact the boy was struggling to even get on his feet.

”You won't go to lunch? You can skip lunch!” she snapped as she eventually pushed him to the floor of his bedroom. Then she removed her keys from her belt.

”Wait!” Harry objected as he clutched his upper arm. ”You can't... What if I need to go to the bathroom?”

”You should have thought about that earlier, shouldn't you?” sneered Aoife. ”I'll inform your parents you are dining alone.” With that she closed the door and locked it. Well, that certainly didn't fit with Harry's plans. He'd just wanted to stay behind because he knew Snape often left the basement door unlocked when he wasn't gone long. How was he going to get out now? Harry sat against the door and placed his palms on the lock.

”Come on! Come on!” he whispered as he concentrated with closed eyes. He'd done magic before but never on purpose. Maybe if he just really, really wanted it? Suddenly he heard a decided click as the lock turned. The boy stared at the door with wide eyes. Did he just? He really did! Normally, when he'd actually wanted something to happen, nothing had. That was something to explore for later. For now he opened the door and began sneaking outside. Then he realized he'd be busted should he go through the first and ground floor. Instead he went to the window. He'd always wanted to do this. There was an old drainpipe right next to the window. Harry had always wondered if you could slide down it and he was about to find out. It was with a great deal of nervousness, however, that he sat on the windowsill and looked down. He grabbed onto the pipe which was nowhere near as smooth as he'd imagined. It was too late to change his mind. His feet had already lifted off the windowsill. Harry slid downwards, feeling the fresh summer air upon him. He slowly descended – which he was glad of. The pipe creaked ominously and shook violently. Harry was relieved when he finally landed on the ground and could jump back in through the window there. Now it was just a question of avoiding the kitchens and old 'servants quarters'. Luckily the black door leading down into the depths wasn't far away. Harry was pretty sure no one had seen him – not even Orla. Moment of truth. Harry tryingly turned the door handle.

The door creaked loudly as it opened. The black painted wood had seem better days. He'd been in luck. All Harry could see was darkness and the top of the staircase leading down into it. Another thing that struck him was the nauseating smell of fire, herbs and Merlin knows what. There was a certain soursweetness about it as if something was rotting or pickled down there. Probably both! And thus Harry began literally climbing down the stairs as he carefully placed each foot. It was exciting and scary at the same time. He knew the man made potions here and that his mother had been down there as well in the past but what exactly was down there was a mystery. Soon his feet hit stone and as Harry blinked and felt the walls he realized he was in a hallway. Near the end he could see light. He probably should have closed the door behind him but he didn't like the idea of getting trapped down here. He stumbled towards the light and found it was a slightly open door. He pushed it open and suddenly he was in a rather large well-lit room. There were shelves everywhere with books, jars and bottles. Bundles of dried plants hung from the ceiling and the fireplace was lit. Cauldrons were simmering merrily on the tables where knifes, cut herbs and open books lay.

What was he going to do? Simply being here was awful in Snape's book but Harry didn't really think it would be enough. Should he steal something? Muck up a potion? But what would really be the point? He'd either have something he didn't know what was or possibly blow himself up. His mother had once insisted on teaching him the theory of potions. Harry had tried really hard then although it bothered him that Lily had this love in common with Snape. But then she'd decided Snape had to tutor him and from then on Harry had lost all will to pull through it. Harry's eyes widened as he stopped by one of the tables. It couldn't be! He couldn't believe his luck! There, on the table next to some strange purple root, lay Snape's wand! He recognized it immediately. But Snape never forgot... Could he have forgotten? The lock incident from earlier came to mind. Harry couldn't resist. He reached out and picked up the wand. It pulsed in his hand with something Harry didn't recognize. It felt so... powerful? He smiled widely. Harry stuck it up his sleeve. That would have to wait. Now he needed to get back out.

Harry quickly made his way back up and shut the door. It was exhilarating! He'd never dared steal a wand before. He'd been warned enough by all the adults. But Harry knew he could do magic and that he could do it right! He'd done so earlier without one so having a wand would only make it easier! He made for the backdoor. He'd go into the garden and test it out. Just then someone cleared their throat behind him. Harry turned to see the person he'd least wanted to see considering what was hidden in his sleeve.

”Would you care to join me in the parlor for a... discussion?” said Snape in a tight voice which did not present the sentence as a question.

”Umm... Okay,” mumbled Harry and then immediately cringed. He was an idiot. All he had to do was run away into the gardens, perhaps delivering a few insults prior to that but he'd never done anything like this before and it was making him nervous. He followed Snape while considering his options. He didn't even know what Snape wanted. His stepfather paused and seemed to study Harry for some time. Harry could feel his palms sweating. Despite having talked back and misbehaved for a month, he'd never in his life done anything like this and honestly he'd begun to think if he hadn't gone too far. Did Snape know? The way he was looking at him... No, he'd already be dead if he knew.

”Aoife tells me you refused to join us for lunch and then ordered her to serve you in your room,” Snape suddenly spoke. His voice was low and calm but still somehow tense as if he was holding something back.

”W..What do you care?” Harry managed to get out. ”You wouldn't want me there anyway.”

Snape sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. ”That is hardly the point. When you are told to come join us, you will obey. You do not order Aoife around as you please. She is no servant of yours.”

”Kinda,” Harry muttered.

”I've been very patient...” started Snape.

”You know what? You don't get to order me around either then!” interrupted Harry. ”I'm not your servant!”

Snape glared at him furiously. ”That's it,” he snarled in a much too low voice for Harry's comfort. ”I've been nothing but patient and lenient! All your mother and I ask is that you behave yourself, respect your elders and work hard on your schoolwork. If it has escaped your notice, young man, not every child has the absolute luxury of living in a place like this. The shear amount of money I spend on you! The patience with which your mother and I put up with you! But not even a hint of gratitude! No, nothing is good enough for Prince Potter! Your mother may wish me to 'go easy' on you but I have had enough! You will apologize for your behavior this instance!”

Harry just gaped. He could feel both tears and fury welling up. Did Snape honestly think he liked this place? How was this in any way a paradise? He didn't care if he lived in a cardboard box if it meant never seeing Snape and Aoife's ugly faces again. Ugly face.. That was good enough.

”Apologize?” Harry spat. ”Who'd want to look at your ugly face at lunch? I'd lose my appetite!”

Snape's face paled visibly and his lips tightened into near non-existent lines. ”This! This is the child Lily wants to chain me to? Your mother has lost her mind if she truly thinks I could ever adopt this!”

Now it was Harry's turn to be shocked. ”What?! What do you mean 'adopt'?” he cried with obvious terror.

”Oh, yes!” huffed Snape, nearly smirking at Harry's horror. ”Your mother thought it might be a great way to bring us closer together,” he sneered. The 'and in case something happens to her' was left out but Harry wasn't so dumb he couldn't piece that one together. He'd thought about it often – what would happen to him if his mother... No he couldn't think about that now. ”My son or not,” continued Snape. ”I will not tolerate this amount of disrespect in my house! To me, boy!”

Snape reached out a hand as if expecting Harry to simply comply but Harry just stood there dumbfounded. ”Then again, if the idea is as repulsive to you as it seems to be it might well be a fitting punishment, though I am not likely to survive it,” threatened Snape with a slight smirk. Harry still hadn't quite processed the whole thing. ”But... You can't! You can't adopt me! I won't agree to that! You're not my father! You'll never...”

”Ah yes! James Potter! The perfect man. Must I have no peace from him? Can he not just stay dead?!” Snape spat. His eyes were burning with something. It was as if he was seeing something Harry couldn't see. The dark-clad man stepped ominously closer to Harry as he spoke, step by step and Harry found himself stumbling backwards. ”Must I raise his spawn? So alike in every way. James bloody Potter! Risen from the dead. Must he haunt me forever!?”

Now Harry was truly terrified. Snape had never acted so... unhinged before. In one swift movement he pulled the wand from his sleeve and pointed it at his stepfather. ”Stay away from me!” he screamed. Snape stopped dead in his tracks and stared at the wand Harry was holding in his shaking hands before he immediately checked his own pockets.

”You... Give that back to me, you little thief!” he hissed as he reached for the wand.

Go away! Go away! Make him stop! Go away! Harry mentally repeated to himself as he stepped out of Snape's reach.

”Harry!” the man snapped. ”This is not amusing! Hand it over! NOW!”

Stop! Harry violently flicked the wand and he closed eyes. He heard the blast and the sound of wood and glass shattering as the force of it pushed him to the ground. He landed on his butt and opened his eyes. He was shaking from the shock. Pictures and other wall decor from the opposite wall now lay shattered on the floor and there was a sizeable hole in the wall. Snape was lying on the floor to the right as if he'd either jumped aside or been flung like Harry. The man slowly stood and brushed himself off. Then he stepped closer to Harry and held out his hand.

”My wand,” he said calmly, too calmly.

Harry didn't dare disobey. He held out the wand and Snape snatched it away before tucking it back into his robes. Then he pulled Harry up by the arm, firmly but not violently. Harry still winced though from Aoife's mistreatment earlier. He was in a daze. He couldn't believe what had just happened. Therefore, he also didn't realize that he was over Snape's lap before the first smack hit his backside. Harry yelped pitifully but held his tongue. How could he have been so stupid?

”You, young man,” hissed Snape as another smack fell. ”Are lucky to be alive!”

”But surely,” Lily trailed off as Harry entered the dining room. ”Harry... Why don't you sit down?” she said calmly and turned her attention back to Snape. Harry kept his head down as he made his way to his chair. Things had not improved since he'd almost blown up his stepfather. This time Lily couldn't be kept from hearing about it since the boom had been quite loud. Even she had told Harry off – something she rarely ever did, although she did it in a resigned manner, sighing throughout. This was something in rather sharp contrast to Snape's approach. None the less, Harry had been miserable. His mother was disappointed in him, Snape had been furious and was still on edge and the worst part was that Harry actually felt they were right to be. He hadn't wanted to blow holes in the wall or even hurt his stepfather – even if he was the biggest jerk around. He'd just wanted to scare him off. He'd never spoken like that before – with that strange look in his eyes. Harry had hated his stepfather for years but never had any reason to fear him actually throwing him into a well or something like that. This time he'd seen something, not entirely that, but something in his eyes... Although, Harry had to admit he had a feeling it wasn't really directed at him. It annoyed him that both Lily and Snape hadn't mentioned the fact that Snape almost got hurt even once. They'd only spoken about how Harry could have been hurt. He didn't like it when Snape showed any kind of concern for Harry's wellbeing – even if it was only for Lily's sake. He'd still not entirely given up on his plan but nearly blowing Snape to bits didn't seem to have done it and Harry wasn't sure how he was going to outdo that without burning the house down.

”Harry!” Lily's voice snapped him back to the present. ”Harry, I asked you a question.”

”Oh, sorry mum!” replied Harry.

”Have you seen any owls around?” Lily repeated. Harry shook his head. ”Severus, are you sure? Can't you check again?”

”Minerva already assured me she sent one off. The pen hardly makes mistakes. It'll arrive at some point. Besides I got the requirements list from her today so we needn't postpone the trip,” Snape replied calmly, having completely ignored Harry throughout the meal.

”It should be here by now,” said Lily quietly. ”I've wanted to celebrate this with Harry for a long time.”

”So I still have to go to Hogwarts even if the letter doesn't come?” Harry suddenly said. ”You don't need it for entry?”

”Obviously,” replied Snape, narrowing his eyes. ”How you didn't realize that is beyond me.” Harry instantly regretted his question. The way Snape was looking at him...

”I'd just really like him to get it,” said Lily quietly. ”It's not like the owls to get lost.” Harry looked down and finished his meal in silence, knowing full well that Snape's gaze was upon him.

June gave way to July and Harry found himself hiding in his tree a lot. The day after his unfortunate question Aoife and Binn had 'cleaned' his room. They moved all the furniture and Binn scrubbed everything. Aoife was quiet and brooding the whole time and Harry knew perfectly well she was doing it on orders from a higher place. They didn't find anything of course. Harry had apologized to Lily for the incident on numerous occasions by now but she still appeared withdrawn whenever he saw her and he couldn't understand why. Snape seemed to be watching him constantly either himself or through the eyes of others and it was getting on Harry's nerves. As he walked up the staircase he was met by Lizette going down. The door to the Summer Room was open and Harry couldn't resist the chance to go in. Lily was seated at her desk, drawing.

”Mum?” said Harry carefully. Lily didn't move at first. ”Mum!” He repeated.

”Huh?” said Lily as her pen stopped. Harry walked over by her side. She appeared to be drawing a large black dog. ”What are you drawing?” asked Harry.

”Oh, nothing. I don't know,” replied Lily with some confusion and continued her drawing. Harry was used to this. Sometimes Lily could be like this though it didn't mean he liked it one bit. ”Mum,” Harry continued slowly. ”About the letter. The Hogwarts letter...”

”We'll go to the lake,” mumbled Lily as she stared straight ahead. ”You always liked it there.”

”Mum, what do you mean?” replied Harry nervously. ”Hmm,” said Lily as she bent her head and darkened the dog's paw. That was when he noticed the other drawings on her desk. Most were the same black dog and one seemed to be a moon. ”Can I have that?” said Harry and pointed to the dog she was drawing. Lily looked at it but didn't say anything. Harry reached out and picked it up. It was rather beautiful. It was clearly a large dog but it looked friendly. His mother picked up the green color and seeming began making green lines on a blank piece of paper.

”Mum,” Harry tried again as he touched her shoulder. She froze momentarily before she quickly turned her head and stared at him. She looked surprised to see him.Then she brought both her hands to her temples.

”Harry? I'm so sorry... I thought...” she replied just she looked back down at the drawing she was making and she instantly began shaking.

”Lily?” called Snape from the doorway. He paused momentarily and then ran to her as Harry edged towards the door. ”It happened again, Sev,” Lily cried into her husbands arms. ”I saw it. I don't want to remember...” she sniffed.

”You don't have to,” Snape assured her. ”It's over.”

A few day later the family was getting ready to leave for London. Snape had argued that they might just as easily get most of the things listed in Dublin but Lily was adamant that Harry also purchased his wand at Ollivander's. Speaking of Lily, she had been in bed for the most part and both Lizette and Snape had advised her not to go but she insisted she wasn't going to miss shopping for Hogwarts with Harry. He had been ready since 6 AM since Aoife thought it would be a great idea to wake him up at five with the message that it was already eight o'clock and he was going to miss breakfast. He stood in the parlor, where the only fireplace connected to the floo-network – that he knew of, was located. The wall looked at good as new. It had been swiftly repaired by magic. Yet, Harry couldn't stop looking at it. He was returned from his thoughts by a creaking from the doorstep. He turned to see Snape entering. The man walked over to him and clamped both hands down on his shoulders. He then seemed to consider the confused boy for a moment before he lowered his face and spoke:

”I want to make a few things very clear. When we go out today you will be on your very best behavior. Your mother is looking forward to this outing and you will not be permitted to sabotage it. Is that clear?”

”Yes, sir,” replied Harry. Snape nodded and released him. Harry hadn't exactly been planning to do anything of the sort. He hadn't been looking forward to it either. Normally he'd relish the thought of going out since it was a rare occasion to go further than Athlea. In fact he'd never been anywhere that was all magic.

There was quite a discussion apparently about whether or not Lizette was coming along. Lily and Snape both said no for completely different reasons but Lizette insisted on it. Eventually she wheeled Lily into the fireplace and they disappeared together in a burst of green flames. Someone had caved although Harry couldn't be sure who. He went next with Snape who placed a hand on his shoulder and snapped: ”The Leaky Cauldron, London!” Harry had seen floo travel a lot. It was how Snape got to work after all. But he'd only tried it a few times as a very small child and honestly couldn't really remember what it felt like. Therefore he forgot to close his mouth and stumbled out of a different fireplace, coughing loudly. He'd probably have fallen if Snape hadn't held him upright.

”Ugh!” he coughed as he spotted his mother and rushed to her. They appeared to be in an inn. The lighting was dim and the room was packed with people. The scent of different types of food were in the air and the ceiling creaked, revealing people on the 1st floor. However it didn't take long for the merry chatter to subside as the guests spotted the new arrivals.

”Is that...?” he heard a red-nosed witch whisper. ”Not seen her for years. I can't believe she...” it came from somewhere in the corner. ”But the boy, Artemius! The boy! Can it be...?”

”This way,” sneered Snape as he rather quickly steered Harry towards the backdoor. Harry had half a mind to protest. Some many of the people were looking at him and he wanted to know why. They didn't seem unfriendly. Lily and Lizette followed them into a yard where Snape seemed to randomly tap a wall. Harry had seen a lot of magic but nothing could possibly prepare him for the sight when the wall disappeared and Diagon Alley came into view. It was colorful and cosy. It was packed with people and positively pulsating with energy. There were children. So many children. And Harry bet they were all magical. It was more magical people in one place than he'd ever met in his entire life.

”First things, first!” said Lily cheerfully. ”The books!” Harry couldn't help but fall behind repeatedly as he took in everything. He didn't necessarily notice that some people were watching him. Lizette was rolling Lily along so she might have her hands free and Snape walked at Lily's side like a big black raven. Harry couldn't help but notice that Lily got easily through the crowd because people naturally swept aside the moment they spotted Snape. He didn't know if they actually knew him or if they just didn't want to mess with him.

Going to the bookstore turned out to be a lot less interesting than one might imagine. Harry wanted to look at the titles of some of the more exciting books – books that soared, shone or emitted multicolored smoke. But every time he strayed, his mother either called him over with excitement to show him yet another textbook or Snape would appear within his field of vision with a disapproving look. The man clearly couldn't stand being here and wanted to finish as quickly as possible and leave. The adults then momentarily left him unattended in a store selling robes because Lily and Lizette was chatting with another mother they had just met about the excitement of a child leaving for school and Snape had gone off to get the supplies Harry would need for potions since he refused to wait at Madam Malkin's for Harry to be fitted.

”Going to Hogwarts too?” said a voice next to him. Harry looked to his side to find another boy there. He was blond and also wearing robes ready for fitting.

”Uhm, yeah. I guess,” replied Harry, not really wanting to talk about it.

”You guess?” smirked the other boy. ”Have you gotten your wand yet? I've just gotten mine!”

”No, not yet,” replied Harry as politely as he could while one of the witches employed there put a pin in his sleeve.

”I heard Harry Potter is going this year,” noted the other boy.

”Huh?” said Harry, surprised to hear his own name.

”Harry Potter? The famous Potter?” said the blond boy with a surprised look. ”Not too sharp, are you? Hardly Ravenclaw material,” he said with a smirk. Harry couldn't tell if it was really meant as an insult or if the other boy was teasing but he didn't really care.

”I don't really care about Ravenclaw,” he replied sullenly, not wanting to think about houses.

”Heh! Neither do I!” huffed the other boy. ”Now, Slytherin is the only house worth being in. Oh, no way! There he is!”

”What?”

”Professor Snape, you idiot! He's head of Slytherin. My father used to know him but he stopped seeing him because he married... Well... No, it's really him! Father pointed him out to me before. What is he doing here?”

Knowing that he was bound to be called for by his mother at some point Harry was grateful when he was called to the counter by another witch. The robes had been paid for so Harry got the package and slipped outside the store as quickly as he could. He was terribly confused. All those people who stared. The famous Potter? But sure there were other people named Harry Potter. It was hardly an unusual name. Still, Harry couldn't stop thinking about it as he walked at his mother's side. ”Now we're just missing the wand and 'an owl, cat or toad',” said Lily happily as she read from the list Snape had given her.

”He doesn't need a pet,” muttered Snape. But Harry had other ideas.

”Mum, please! Can we go look at pets?” It didn't matter that he was planning to get expelled or preferably never attend but Harry had always wanted a pet. He hadn't been allowed to, partly because Snape didn't like them and thought it would disturb Lily (Harry having asked for a dog) but also because Aoife had pitched a fit about how filthy it would be. Lily had gone along with them but clearly she was willing to consider letting him have one at school and Harry was sure that once he had it, it would be his and he could take it home too. What should he get? A cat maybe? Lizette took Lily into the pet store. Snape was not looking particularly pleased. The screeching of the animals could be heard throughout the crowded rooms. A calico cat hissed loudly at Harry as he neared its cage.

”How about this?” said Lily as she reached out and petted a beautiful grey cat that purred at her touch.

”I want to look a bit!” smiled Harry and made his way through the crowd and further into the store. He found himself quickly in the reptile department as he came face to face with some kind of lizard crawling down the wall. He stepped backwards in an attempt not to get crushed by a few older kids eager to get to a giant glowing lizard-like creature that swam around an aquarium. He walked backwards into a terrarium. ”Oh, sorry,” he said automatically to the occupant before realizing that he was an idiot and he was talking to a snake.

”It'z alrightz,” said the snake, which was rather large and looked a bit like a python.

Harry stared at the animal without blinking. ”Did you? Did you just talk to me?”

”You talkedz to me firzt!” replied the snake, sounding rather offended. ”And you disturbed my cage.”

”Sorry,” mumbled Harry who was still in shock. They had talking snakes here? Who'd have thought that! Then he noticed that one of the logs in there seemed to indeed have fallen over.

”I'm zure you wouldn't mind but... It'z rather torturouz to sit here all day looking at them and never getz to taste one!” said the snake and nodded straight ahead. Harry turned to see a large cage at the other end of the room containing large rats. Well, it was the least he could do right? He nodded to the snake and went to the cage. Opening it up was not a problem. No adults where really watching him. Getting a rat was more trouble. He finally got hold of a bit fat one and closed the cage but it wiggled as he walked with it and suddenly it slipped through his fingers and shot across the floor. It ended up sitting on the floor just in front of Lily. For a moment Harry thought she'd start yelling at him or something. He was after all standing there like an idiot and was very clearly where the rat had come from. People shot away from the rat and a few small girls screamed. Lily's eyes were so blank as if she saw something else. Then to everyone's surprise she grabbed the armrests of her chair and lunged herself out of it and at the rat, landing on the floor. The rat was momentarily in her grasp but quickly escaped. Lily started crying as Snape and Lizette rushed to her with other customers who helped her back up. Harry didn't understand it. She'd had that same reaction with the drawing and Harry didn't know what was happening. Lily kept apologizing over and over and saying she didn't know what had come over her. Harry rushed to her but Lizette pushed him away claiming that he'd 'done enough already'. It was too much and before Harry knew it he'd bolted out the door and was heading down the street. He ran and he ran until he didn't know where he'd gone. The houses had changed. They were less well kept and the street was narrow here. Harry twirled with tears still in his eyes. He didn't recognize anything.

”Are you lost?” said a bald man behind him. He smiled eerily with yellow crooked teeth. ”Oh, poor baby!” said a young incredibly pale and thin woman almost sarcastically. ”What's your name?” said the bald man as the woman took Harry's hand. ”N-No! I'm n-not lost!” replied Harry. ”I need to go... here!” he said as he pulled himself free and ran through the nearest shop door for safety.

”Out! I don't want your kind in here! Out I say!” screeched an old, long nosed man as Harry entered.

”Oh, calm yerself down, Mr Kranz, 'e aint done no harm!” said what Harry could only describe as the largest man he'd ever seen. The man had to stay slightly bent over so as to not bang his head on the ceiling. He had a long bushy beard and wore a big coat. The store itself was dark and full of plants that seemed to relish the darkness. ”What are ye doing here?” said the large man gently.

”I got lost,” Harry admitted. He didn't know why. Something about the man made him feel safe.

”He came to steal my Poplar seeds!” hissed the old man.

”Don't ye worry yerself,” said the giant man. ”I'll take ye back. Ye don't want to hang around Knockturn Alley alone. The name is Hagrid by the way. Rubeus Hagrid. Groundskeeper at Hogwarts!” he said seemingly beaming with pride.

”Really?” Asked Harry as they left the store. ”I'm supposed to go there in September.”

”Ah! And what's your name then?” nodded Hagrid.

”Harry Potter,” Harry replied quietly.

”Harry Potter? Harry? What on earth are ye doing here by yerself then? A boy like you what is famous and all can get in huge trouble here!”

”What do you mean famous? I heard someone else say that today? I don't know who this other Harry Potter is but it's not me. I'm just Harry,” he replied.

”Not as I look at ye. Ye look just like James. Spitting image. 'Cept the eyes. I reckon ye have yer mother's eyes.”

”You knew my father?” Harry asked with wide eyes.

”Of course I did. Personally!” said Hagrid once again beaming with pride. ”But mind ye there aint a person alive in Britain who doesn't know 'is name or yours!”

”I don't understand? I never did anything special!” argued Harry.

The giant man looked shocked. ”Anything special? Didn't yer mother tell ye? Or Professor Snape?”

”She doesn't like to talk about dad,” Harry said quietly, not bothering to explain Snape's silence.

”I can't believe it! The greatest wizard alive and 'e doesn't even know it!” mumbled Hagrid.

”What do you mean?” Harry asked as they neared the end of the alley.

”Not 'ere,” mumbled the giant man and ushered Harry into what looked like a small tavern. ”Best not speak in the street. I'll buy ye a butterbeer,” nodded Hagrid. Harry should be terrified. He was alone with a stranger. It was the oldest rule in the book, broken.

”Harry?” said Hagrid as he sat down at a table in the corner of the dim tavern. ”Have yer mother seriously never told ye that ye defeated you-know-who?”

Harry was seething. In fact, he was pretty sure that if he clenched his teeth any harder they'd fall out. He was walking in a rapid pace next to Hagrid. Half a butterbeer whirled around in his stomach which at some point had decided it would make its career as a centrifuge. Is that why everyone stared at me? Is that why they would never talk about what happened to dad? How could they do this? Why didn't mum say anything? Can mum remember? Did Snape not tell her either? Harry was asking at lot of questions and answering none. He eventually arrived at the conclusion that he was going to tear his stepfather to pieces if he ever saw him again!

”Professor Snape!” Hagrid called out and Harry's eyes snapped up to see the object of his hatred walking quickly – slightly jogging towards them? As soon as Snape reached them Harry opened his mouth about to scream at him but he never got a word out as Snape's hands clamped down upon his shoulders and he was spun around to face Hagrid. Harry half expected a swat but none came. Instead his stepfather addressed the large man. ”Thank you, Hagrid.” The tone was rather curt but Harry wasn't sure if that was because Snape didn't really mean it or because he was too angry with Harry to be polite. Oh, wait. The reality of why Snape might be angry came back to Harry who had completely forgotten about it in his own rage.

”Don't mention it, professor,” said Hagrid in a jovial manner. ”Can't have the lad wand'ring around Knockturn Alley all lost and alone. I'll see ye at Hogwarts then, Harry!” Hagrid waved at the boy who replied with a quiet 'Yeah, bye. And thanks' before Hagrid walked away, visible despite the crowd.

”Knockturn... Alley...” Harry suddenly heard hissed from behind him. He was spun around and came face to face with a pair of enraged black eyes. ”We will talk,” said Snape ominously. ”This way. Move.”

Harry felt Snape grab his arm and begin to drag him along and he struggled against him. ”I can walk by myself,” he shrieked. He'd expected someone to stop Snape. They were in a street full of people after all. Surely someone would step in and call the aurors so Snape would be arrested for kidnapping – preferably after a long and intense battle with lots of explosions but no one said a word. In fact the children hurried away or hid behind their parents as if they were afraid Snape might grab them and the adult either shook their heads or gave Harry stern looks. Harry was guided through the door of a store though he didn't notice what kind, only that it was dim and seemingly empty. He spun around to find Snape standing cross-armed in front of the door like a guard to a treasury.

”You can't do that!” cried Harry. ”Where's mum?”

”Your mother is at home. Nurse Sinclair thought it best to take her,” said Snape calmly. Why was he so calm? Only a moment ago he'd been ready to skin Harry.

”Well, then I'm going too! Move!” cried Harry louder still. Snape simply watched him yell with a calm and dignified expression and Harry soon found out why.

”Ahem..” someone said behind him and he turned in surprise to find an elderly man who looked like he'd been stored on one if his own shelves for a few decades. ”Harry Potter, I presume?”
”Erh,” Harry replied. Where was he? Oh, Snape was smirking now surely! The walls were lined with shelves containing long boxes – wands, Harry realized. This had to be Ollivander's then.

”Mr Ollivander?” he said tryingly as he felt Snape's hand on his back pushing him lightly towards the counter.

”And Professor Snape! Dragon heartstring and ebony!” nodded Ollivander. ”But now what of you,” he said to Harry. ”It is a great day indeed for I have long been curious. Now lets see.” He snapped his fingers and a measuring tape appeared which started to take Harry's measurements. Ollivander hmm'ed and oh'ed quite a bit as a quill scribbled them down. Then he headed for the shelves and pulled something out. ”Cherry and unicorn hair, 10 inches. Try it out,” he said as he handed Harry a wand. Harry just stood there not knowing what to do until Snape coughed impatiently behind him. Reminded of his presence Harry huffed and flicked the wand rather furiously at which point Ollivander had to dodge to not get hid. Harry was mortified as he remembered the amount of trouble he'd gotten in last time he nearly blasted someone but Ollivander didn't seem to mind in the slightest he simply tsk'ed and took the wand only to hand him another. A few dozen boxes on the floor and a smashed vase later Ollivander turned pensive. He glanced at Snape with a mixture of worry and excitement. ”Perhaps... This...” he said as he pulled another dusty box from the shelves and handed the wand inside to Harry. This time Harry didn't need to flick it. Unlike the others he didn't feel like he was holding a powerful object but like his arm and internal power had been extended. ”Phoenix feather, holly, 11 inches,” said the wandmaker quietly in an almost solemn manner. ”Curious! I had a feeling... But remarkable!”

”I... I don't understand, sir,” said Harry as he stared at the wand.

”How much,” it came dryly from Snape.

”This is no ordinary wand, Mr Potter,” said Ollivander.

”I'm sure no wand you ever sold was,” interrupted Snape. ”I do not plan to remain longer than necessary.”

Ignoring the dark man, Ollivander continued: ”This is a twin wand, Mr Potter. The phoenix from which the core came only ever gave one other feather and it resides in the wand that gave you that scar.” Harry's eyes widened. He felt Snape's hand on his shoulder.

”Enough fairytales,” said Snape but he didn't actually sound curt – almost, worried? ”Are you sure this is the right wand?” he added almost hesitantly.

”Young man,” said Ollivander sternly to Snape. ”Are you suggesting I do not know my own craft? In all these years I have never made a mistake!”

”No, I...” Snape began.

”This wand is like Voldemort's?” Harry interjected and failed to notice the contrast between Snape, who visibly winced at the name, and Ollivander, who raised his eyebrows.

”The wand chooses the wizard. We cannot truly know why but it seeks him. However it does not define him. It speaks of greatness however...”

He didn't get to finish that as Snape smacked a handful of galleons on the counter and snapped that they came to buy a wand not listen to nonsense. The wand was finally purchased and Harry was so puzzled by what Ollivander had said that he didn't notice how far they had moved until he was pulled into the fireplace at the strange inn. He came out coughing and spluttering as he'd once again forgotten to close his mouth. The first thing he heard was the frantic voice of his mother calling: ”Harry! Harry!” He squirmed out of Snape's hold and ran for the stairs. She was waiting in the hall on the first floor in her chair. She was wrapped in blankets but dropped one as she threw her arms open at him. He didn't need verbal permission. He crawled onto her lap and wrapped his arms around her.

”Oh Harry! How could you? I was so scared! Why would you run off like that? Where did you go? What were you thinking!?” Lily continued to half question, half scold him as she hugged him tightly. Snape made his way up the stairs but Harry didn't notice.

”Hagrid happened upon him... in Knockturn Alley,” said Snape.

”Knockturn Alley!” shrieked Lily as she grabbed Harry by the shoulders and held him in front of her. ”Oh, how could you, Harry? You're grounded! Yes, you are! Oh, I should... If I'd lost you...” At this she hugged Harry again. ”But you are safe and that is what matters! You must have been so frightened! My poor boy! Oh, did I scare you? In the petstore? I'm so sorry, dear, I don't know what... And we didn't get you a pet! I'm so sorry. Did you get the wand?” she said and looked up at Snape for his confirmation. He handed her the long box and she opened it excitedly as if it was a Christmas present addressed to her. ”Oh, it's lovely!” she exclaimed and Harry felt his stepfather pull him off his mother.

”Why do you feel the need to be so difficult?” said Snape sternly as he closed the door to the library. After a while Lizette had arrived and demanded that Lily rested before supper especially due to the days 'excitement'.

”Why do you feel the need to be such a prat?” Harry retorted now that he was finally alone with Snape and able to speak his mind.

”You will drop the attitude or you may stand in the corner until you are willing to listen,” snarled Snape.

”No point in listening to you. It's all lies anyway,” muttered Harry.

”Excuse me?!”

”Consider yourself excused,” snapped Harry and jumped into one of the large green armchairs as nonchalantly as he could.

”Harry,” said Snape in such a low and threatening voice that it sent chills down Harry's spine and he dared not look up at the man. ”I do not know what has gotten into you lately but you are tempting fate. My patience will only...”

”Why didn't you tell me?”

”Why didn't I tell you what?”

”Why didn't you tell me about Voldemort?” cried Harry and looked up to see Snape clench his teeth. ”Why didn't you tell me my father was murdered? Why didn't you tell me he died a hero! Why didn't you tell me what happened?”

”Do not speak the Dark Lord's name! Just what I need! Another reason for you to worship James! Another reason for you to glorify that idiot! Haven't you thought, boy, that it might be too painful? Haven't you thought your mother might wish to forget?”

”You could have told me. You knew! She didn't need to know.”

”It would do nothing but feed that intolerable self-importance of yours! I may have tried to prevent it but it is clearly hereditary. Tell me, Potter, does it please you to hear about how you defeated the greatest dark sorcerer since Grindelwald? Does it please you to know you are famous, celebrated by fools across Britain? Do you rejoice in your own heroics? Does it please you to know what you did to your mother?”

”Wh... What do you mean?” Harry stuttered.

”Oh, that detail was left out was it? Of course it was. Most people don't know. The magic that killed the Dark Lord almost killed your mother!” Snape was furious, that much was clear. ”But I suppose it doesn't matter what it did to her! All that matters is that the Potters get a chance to play heroes!”

”You're lying!” Harry cried. He'd never really thought about it. Lily had been in that chair for as long as Harry could remember and everyone had always said she was in an accident. Harry had assumed the accident had also killed his father. ”You're lying!” he repeated. ”Liar! You're just saying this because you hate me!”

Snape glared at him. ”Is that what you think?”

”And my father was hero! He died protecting us and you're just a lying old git!” cried Harry as he flew past Snape in a blur. Tears were forming in his eyes and as he flung the door open he heard Snape yell after him.

”Get back here at once! I have not finished with you!”

”I'm not talking to you ever again! I hate you!” Harry cried from a little ways up the stairs. He didn't look back but ran all the to his attic room and thus when he slammed the door shut and threw himself on his bed he could barely breathe due to the exertion and the sobs he was choking upon.

Harry spent an entire 15 minutes of his birthday staring at a corner and fighting the urge to rub his sore bottom. It was the unfortunate result of Harry snapping at his mother and refusing to open the present she and Snape had gotten him and then slamming the door as he stormed out. Of course it was really the result of Snape losing his patience as Harry had been anything but pleasant since their altercation. He refused to speak a word to his stepfather even if Lily begged him and never looked at him either. His mother couldn't understand why since neither of the two involved would really explain. Harry said nothing at all and Snape kept saying the boy was simply 'acting out' and needed a 'firm hand'. There had been plenty of that. Well, Harry wasn't about to accept anything that had Snape's name on it. In fact he detested the idea of Snape spending money on him. Of course he couldn't avoid it as he needed food, water and shelter but a birthday present was right out. Harry knew that he would never have hurt Lily – never! And how dared Snape say otherwise. He'd tried talking to his mother and she'd looked sad and said that a bad man once hurt Harry's father and herself but nothing more. In fact she spoke like she was talking about someone else. Harry was at the same time angry that she wouldn't speak about it, afraid of hurting her by bringing it up and unsure if she even recalled it.

Hogwarts was approaching fast and the closer they came to the date the sadder Lily became and the happier Madam Aoife became. Lily was excited for Harry but having your child leave for school was not easy either. Aoife on the other hand was gleeful now that Harry would be gone. And that was the only reason Harry endured sitting opposite Snape at meals. Initially he'd refused to come down for them but that meant he ate nothing or barely anything, courtesy of Aoife and Binn. Harry was certain about it now. He was going to get himself expelled and preferably in a manner that would cause the most trouble for Snape possible. Speaking of which, Snape's patience was almost non-existent again. It was clear to Harry now that the patience he'd shown earlier was courtesy of his mother but now he was back to his old self. Harry was sulking in the hallways when he heard something through the door to the parlor.

”It's hardly my fault...” snapped Aoife's voice.

”Is that so?” Snape replied coldly. ”And just how did he get in there in the first place?”

Harry gulped slightly. They were talking about yesterday when Harry found the door leading to the lab open again. He'd had a particularly nasty morning and decided to investigate further. After the wand incident Snape had made a point of always locking it. Of course the man himself caught him before he'd even reached the lab door and it didn't end well.

”What's it to me if you can't control one little brat,” Aoife spat. A sound followed which was rather like someone slamming either their hands or some object on the desk but he couldn't tell who did it.

”It just so happens that you are the only other person with a key,” yelled Snape and even though Harry wasn't the object of his anger he still winced.

”Binn likely forgot.”

”Binn has no business down there! Why would he go?” Snape continued. ”Shall I go down there and take inventory of the cellar storage? The spare silver perhaps?” Aoife made no sound and then Snape continued. ”If I find you've been stealing from me you will be out on the street before you can blink. The will cannot protect you there.”

”Some might argue what's down there belongs to me and not you,” sneered Aoife.

”Is that a confession?”

”You'll find nothing missing. Though I'd be surprised if you'd know that anything had gone considering the amount of interest you take in your family's heritage. I am not going anywhere. I belong in the house. Was there anything else, master?”

Clearly there wasn't because Harry barely had time to hide before Aoife stormed out. The following day, however, hiding turned out to be a terrible choice. Hogwarts was now only two days away and Lily had insisted they all spend the afternoon packing Harry's trunk together as a family. Harry couldn't stand the idea. Not only did it force him to think about having to leave his mother but Snape would be right there to gloat about it. He opted for simply not showing up although he knew either Snape or Aoife would search for him and eventually bring him. He was on the stairs when he thought he heard someone on the floor below and in his search for a good hiding spot he wound up in the gallery. He regretted the choice instantly when the first few in the line of mute Princes glared at him and mouthed things he was glad he couldn't hear. At least no one would think to look for him here. He wandered down the hall and tried not to look too closely at the people in the portraits. He reached the end where one of the only portraits he liked hung. It showed a young woman with long black hair. She didn't look that old in the picture – maybe 15? Harry wasn't sure. But unlike the other paintings there was a smile on her lips as she looked back at him. The brass plate on her frame read Eileen Prince 1936-1969 She was giggling and pointing at something but Harry couldn't hear due to the strange muteness of the paintings. He turned his head and stumbled backwards in surprise. A painting close by had a huge cut running diagonally across it and so the figure there was obscured but Harry knew who was in that portrait. That was Aoife's portrait.

”There you are! You filthy little...” hissed a voice from the other end and Harry looked up to see a flushed Aoife who had clearly been all over the grounds for him. She stalked towards him. Harry froze. There was no way to run but past her. ”It wasn't me,” was all Harry could think of saying.

”What are you...” Aoife began when her eyes fell on the painting. Her eyes widened in shock. ”You dreadful... horrid... disgusting... little bastard of a halfblood,” she said, almost whispering. She turned to grab him but Harry was already running. He ran under her arms successfully but the kick he didn't dodge. It hit him in the back of his knee and he fell to the floor. Soon another one followed to his side and Harry howled in pain. In the next instant he was flipped over to see Aoife standing over him like a shadow with her wand drawn. He tried to protest but this time no sound came. ”This is my home,” she stated almost as if she was speaking to herself. ”I was born here. My brother was an idiot if he'd rather fill these halls with the likes of you than give me what's mine. Well...” Here she landed another kick. Harry curled up in pain before attempting to get on his feet. He didn't make it as something burning hit him in the back. He didn't know what it was but it hurt like hell! In the next moment Aoife hoisted him up by his shirt, grabbed his arm tightly and slammed him up against the wall.

”You don't touch my things,” she sneered. ”Don't you dare touch my things.” She loosened the painful grip on Harry's arm slightly. But his relief was short lived. ”You destroy what I love... I will do the same to you.” Harry had never been this terrified in his life. His first thought was immediately of Lily and the fear in his eyes clearly pleased Aoife. ”Do you understand?” she cried and slammed him back against the wall.

”Yes,” Harry croaked, too distraught to realize his voice had returned.

”Good,” she nodded and released him completely. She straightened her back and looked strangely calm. ”The mistress will have completed your trunk by now. Dinner will be at seven.”

With this she turned and walked down the hall as if nothing had happened and Harry was never so relieved. He wanted to run straight to his mother and tell her but he knew that would upset her. Snape wasn't going to believe him either and would likely agree that Harry ruined the painting. Aoife's words still hung in the air. After all, she was a witch. But she couldn't get away with hurting Lily, could she?

Harry glanced back over his shoulder as the small group moved closer to the fireplace. A pair of dark eyes stared back at him from the hallway. Aoife's face was in itself neutral as she watched Harry, Lily and Lizette leave for London. Snape had already gone ahead to Hogwarts. When she locked eyes with Harry something changed. Harry couldn't be sure what it was but the way she looked at him... He immediately turned and stepped closer to his mother. He could still feel those eyes upon him as they disappeared in flames.

A week later Harry found his life had changed completely. For the better or worse? Harry wasn't sure. There was no Aoife – but having her at home with Lily was not comforting either. Instead there was Malfoy. The boy he had met in the store who was furious that Harry had not presented himself and that he had refused his friendship in defense of Ron. Ron was a new thing. Harry had a friend for the first time in years. Then there was Snape. On the night of the sorting, the hat had insisted on Slytherin but Harry couldn't, he just couldn't be in that house with him as his head. He eventually looked up at him from the Gryffindor table but Snape never looked back. His mother had sent a letter expressing her joy in regards to Harry being in Gryffindor like she had been but Snape hadn't spoken a word to him. Harry wasn't sure whether that made him angry, sad or happy. Initially he'd been doubting whether the Gryffindors only whispered about him because he was Harry Potter until Ron confirmed that some of the students were ill at easy around him because he was the stepson of the Head of Slytherin. Any suspicions from the other lions didn't last beyond Harry's first potions class. Snape hadn't looked at him throughout it but mercilessly bullied Neville and Hermione. He also let – for Harry was absolutely certain that he saw, Malfoy bump the table Harry and Ron were sitting at, causing Ron's ink to spill all over the desk. Harry was surprised actually. He'd actually thought Snape was only mean to him and Aoife. It had never even once occurred to him that he might act like this towards his students. Despite Ron's eagerness to go outside and mumble ways to kill Snape, Harry walked with Neville and Hermione in an attempt to comfort the two of them.

The distrusting looks turned to looks of sympathy and even encouragement when they saw Harry seething through it and gripping the edge of the desk tightly. Harry felt terribly awful after his first transfiguration class. Professor McGonagall did something Harry had never experienced before – or rather in a long time. He and Ron were late and she reprimanded them. Yet after Harry took his seat he was neither angry with her nor denying that he had deserved it. In fact she'd been rather nice about it and he found himself respecting her almost instantly. During lessons and even occasionally during meals he could feel her eyes resting upon him momentarily yet it didn't bother him. But he had a plan. He had to get expelled. It didn't matter if professor McGonagall would be displeased. The perfect opportunity arrived one morning when they were scheduled to have their first flying class. Harry had been looking forward to this since he'd never been permitted to fly before.

”Under no circumstances do you take off without my permission, is that understood?” said Madam Hooch. ”The consequences will be severe! Now, by your brooms!”

Of course they didn't even manage to start the lesson properly before Neville shot up into the air, whirled around the yard and eventually fell back down and thus injured himself. Madam Hooch left with him to take him to the hospital wing.

”He should have used this more,” sneered Malfoy suddenly and Harry turned to see him holding Neville's remembrall. ”Maybe then he would have remembered not to be an idiot.”

”Give it back, Malfoy,” cried Harry. A moment later Malfoy was in the air and Harry shot after him despite Hermione's objections. He knew what he was doing. If he could expelled for something he'd have done either way that was just fine. Harry didn't even have the time to think about the fact that he didn't know how to fly nor the fact that it felt so natural to him. Him simply did whatever came to him. The two boys flew around the yard at impressive speed until Malfoy threw the orb at the wall. Without hesitation Harry dove after it, not realizing he and the orb were heading for a window. Just as Harry's fingers grasped the remembrall, glass shattered around him as he flew through the window and into the office of a very shocked professor McGonagall.

”Mr Potter!” she cried in outrage as soon as she realized who the student floating in her office was. Harry locked eyes with the professor and once again did what came natural to him – he escaped. ”Mr Potter! Come back here at once! Don't you dare...” yelled the professor somewhere behind him as he shot back out through the window. He didn't make it that far. He flew too fast to properly maneuver and knocked into a statue as he passed it. Losing control of the broom Harry fell towards the ground. He barely managed to close his eyes before he found himself floating in the air just above the grass. He opened his eyes and looked up towards the smashed window to find a white-faced McGonagall leaning out of it with her wand pointed at Harry. He was lowered down and McGonagall looked at him sternly from high above – or so Harry assumed. It wasn't long before he was surrounded by the other Gryffindors who attempted to help him up.

”Stand aside!” he heard McGonagall's voice say not 10 minutes later.

”But professor! Malfoy...” began Ron.

”Mr Potter! With me!” she commanded and Harry didn't dare disobey her. Malfoy sniggered and Hermione gave him a worried look as he was lead away.

”Professor? Are we... Where are we going?” Harry asked quietly after a while. This wasn't the way to McGonagall's office. Clearly they were going to see the Headmaster. Despite this being what Harry had hoped for he couldn't help but feeling bad either.

”We're going to the hospital wing,” said the professor shortly. ”Your hands are bleeding, Mr Potter.”

”Oh,” said Harry. Well, that wasn't telling him much about his fate. He wanted to object and say he'd be just fine but he couldn't. Little did he know how much he would regret that.

Harry sat on a bed in the hospital wing. No other student was there as Neville had already been permitted to leave. He was glad of it. They spoke in hushed voices but a curtain was no wall and Harry could easily hear the conversation between Madam Pomfrey and professor McGonagall.

”Are you certain?” said professor McGonagall in disbelief.

”Of course, I am! The bruises are fading but they are there! And this! THIS! This is the result of a curse, Minerva! You can't argue that...”

”I'm not!” said the professor gravely. ”I had just never imagined... I don't understand it. How... How could he? There must be some mistake!”

”11 year olds do not go about cursing themselves in the back as far as I know!” huffed the mediwitch. ”And the bruises! He's been beaten! Or assaulted!”

Harry wanted to cry. They knew. They were going to find out. And if anyone knew his mother would suffer for it. The look Aoife had given him was still fresh in his memory.

”Harry,” said McGonagall softly as she withdrew the curtain. ”Harry, I would like to ask you some questions if that is alright?”

”Am I going to be expelled?” said Harry quietly.

”What? No! We'll talk about that some other time. Madam Pomfrey saw you had some older bruises. Could you tell me how you got them?” As she spoke she sat down on the side of the bed. This made it more awkward for Harry as he was used to her as a stern teacher with great expectations regarding her students. He didn't like it when she used his first name.

”Fell,” Harry mumbled as he drew his knees up under his chin.

”And the curse? You have marks from a curse on your back. How did that get there?”

”I fell,” Harry mumbled. ”On some magical thing. It was an accident. I was clumsy.”

”Hmm,” said McGonagall calmly. ”Are you sure that's the truth?” At this she moved his hands to look him in the eyes.

”I didn't mean to fly through the window,” said Harry, changing the subject.

Madam Pomfrey watched them with crossed arms. The two witches shared a knowing look. ”Harry, I want you to stay here with Madam Pomfrey. She will do some additional scans. I will go and fetch the Headmaster, is that alright?”

”So, I'm getting expelled?”

The amount of hope in Harry's voice was clearly noticed by the witches because they looked both confused and concerned. ”No, Mr Potter,” said McGonagall in a sterner tone. ”No one is getting expelled today.” At that Harry curled up on the bed and refused to look at either of them. When the Headmaster arrived they didn't speak as the adults spoke in Pomfrey's office. Once they returned McGonagall once again asked Harry to explain what had happened to him. He repeated that he'd fallen once again. The old wizard had strange annoying eyes that twinkled and seemed as though they could see what he was thinking, yet Harry couldn't look away. Then McGonagall allowed him to return to his dorm but informed him he would be expected the following day to remove the traces upon him. When Harry returned to the common room he didn't know what to make of it all. Several student descended upon him. Some to hear if he was okay, some to hear how many points they lost and some didn't know what was happening but just wanted in on whatever it was. Harry only needed to look at Ron once before the other boy pulled him along to their dorm.

”Harry...” he suddenly heard a voice behind him say. He turned on the stairs and saw Neville there. ”I just wanted to say thank you,” the boy smiled as he held up the remembrall.

”What happened?” said Ron when they were finally alone. ”Are you in trouble?”

”I don't know,” shrugged Harry. ”They said I wasn't but I'm not sure.”

”Okay, mate,” Ron nodded but he seemed to consider Harry.

”I'm pretty tired. I think I'll go to sleep,” Harry replied. It was not even time for dinner but the other boy didn't question it. Harry was incredibly surprised when he woke later to find a plate of food and a glass of milk on his nightstand. He had a few bites and then lay staring at the bed draping. Hopefully this would all go away. He knew it was silly but he somehow felt like Aoife already knew. Eventually Harry drifted off and was thus unaware of what was now happening deep below him.

Minerva McGonagall marched into the dungeons which was quite a shock for the Slytherin students she met on her way. Some jumped out of her way, others narrowed their eyes at her presence and her displeased look. Eventually she knocked upon the door to her colleague's office and he was just as surprised to see her as his students had been. His expression changed momentarily to a mixture of annoyance and acknowledgement since it was clear she had a problem and he was sure it was the same problem he'd had for years. The woman didn't even bother to close the door gently. It slammed shut behind her as she marched to his desk and smacked a stack of papers onto it.

”Severus Snape!” she hissed. That was new. In fact Snape had rarely ever seen her anywhere near this angry – and certainly not with him.

”If this is about the boy, I know he's a menace...” he began as calmly as one could in that situation.

”About the boy? How dare you! You'll explain yourself immediately before we have you removed from school grounds!” said the witch.

Snape simply stared at the green-clad woman whose presence in his office was now both as alarming as it was unusual. ”Minerva, what on earth are you talking about?” he replied, the confusion now surfacing in his face for the first time. He looked down to find the papers were his stepson's medical files.

The next morning Harry awoke to find a note on his bedside table. Curious he opened it up and there he grimaced as he recognized the scrawl upon it as his stepfather's. It was a rather short message saying that he wanted to see Harry in his office during lunch break. Well, Harry wasn't that dumb and frankly that was the last person, well, almost the last person he'd want to see after yesterday. So, he and Ron went along to herbology together although Harry could feel Ron was curious about the previous day he soon forgot as the boy struggled to harvest the cones off of a Snarking Skunkpine – which fought very well for itself. After a while the odor in the greenhouse was unbearable and professor Sprout had to excuse them all. By lunchtime all was back to normal where his friends were concerned and despite Ron's initial objections to her he said nothing when Hermione and Neville joined them at the end of the Gryffindor table. Harry pushed his food around a lot before he simply went on to sweets. He felt watched and looked up to catch both McGonagall, Pomfrey and the Headmaster watching him. But Snape wasn't there. Of course not, he's waiting in the dungeons. Harry turned back to his friends and took an apple. He felt pretty good about letting Snape wait for him. Of course he came to regret that when they left the Great Hall to go to charms. They hadn't made it far until a hand landed on his shoulder and caused Hermione to cease her lecture about locking charms mid-sentence.

”Potter... Follow me,” said a familiar voice behind him. His friends were clearly not comfortable around Snape and Neville had gone positively white. Ron however sensed that Harry wasn't much more comfortable.

”Professor, we have to go to charms,” he said shortly and reached for Harry's arm.

”Mr Potter is excused for now and will join you later, Weasley. You had better get going or you will be late,” Snape sneered above Harry's head. Hermione and Neville hurried on their way but Ron walked slowly and kept looking back at Harry. ”This way,” mumbled Snape as he placed his hand on Harry's shoulder. This is it, Harry thought. I've been expelled. And now he's going to yell at me about it. How they made their way to his office, Harry didn't know. In fact it struck him that he'd have never found it in the first place as he had no idea where it was. His office looked different. It was nothing like the Bleak House at all. There everything was lavish but here the furniture was practical but nice in their own gloomy fashion. It looked like a mix between the lab and an office really. Snape closed the door behind them and Harry suddenly felt terribly trapped and terribly stupid. He'd known Snape would be angry when he got expelled but he hadn't given much thought as to how angry.

”What do you think you're doing?” Snape suddenly said and Harry whirled around to face him.

”What do you mean?” said Harry. He didn't know if he was actually doing something wrong at that moment or if this was about the broom incident.

”What do you mean?” Snape mimicked. ”You know perfectly well what you told professor McGonagall.”

Harry felt a sinking feeling in his stomach. This was about that. In the next moment Snape grabbed him and turned him. Once again Harry expected to be struck but it didn't happen. Instead Snape pulled off his robes and yanked his shirt up, exposing his back. Harry didn't have time to react. Snape didn't say anything for what felt like the longest moment in the history of moments. Then Harry felt his cold fingertips grazing the spot where the curse had hit him.

”How did you do this?” Snape said quietly, too quietly.

Harry breathed out. ”I fell,” he mumbled. That wasn't the right answer and he was turned back around. Snape held him by the shoulders and brought his face closer to Harry's.

”You are going to go and tell them right now. You are going to march up there now and tell them I didn't do this!” said Snape in a frantic voice.

The boy blinked at him with confusion in his eyes. ”I... I never said you did.”

”Do you honestly think anyone believes your nonsense? The bruises I would expect from you but this...” said Snape pointing a bony finger at Harry's chest and thus through him to the mark on his back. ”What did you do? Pick a fight with an older student?”

His eyes were filling with tears at the injustice of it all. Harry knew Snape wouldn't believe him if he told him the truth. He'd always believed Aoife over him and if Aoife found out... He couldn't let her hurt Lily.

”I fell,” he said resolutely.

”Is this amusing to you?” replied Snape in outrage. ”I could lose my position! Stop this immediately! You will tell me the truth!”

”I hate you,” replied Harry and that was the truth at that moment. In the next moment he was out of the door and running back through the dungeons. He didn't show up at the hospital wing to be healed so McGonagall had to come to his dorm and get him herself. Still, she didn't seem angry in the slightest. Harry wondered if she knew where he had been earlier because no mention was made of his skipping class either.

”Harry, please,” said the professor. She and the Headmaster was sitting opposite him in the wing and the old man had yet to say anything. Harry was now healing. The bruises were already gone but the mark took extra time.

”I fell,” Harry repeated and McGonagall sighed before glancing at the Headmaster.

”Where did you fall?” said Dumbledore calmly. Damn it! Harry hadn't really given any thought to detail.

”Erm... Erm... In the... house,” he replied. ”It's nothing. Can I go now?”

”You prefer other company?” chuckled Dumbledore. ”Well, of course the young would.”

”I thought you were here to expel me,” said Harry.

”Why do you keep saying that?” asked McGonagall. ”Would you like us to?” Harry nodded. ”Do you even understand what that would mean? Why... Why do you want to go home, Harry?”

”No reason,” Harry shrugged. ”Can I go now?”

”Yes,” McGonagall sighed. But as Harry left the hospital wing he could have sworn he heard the Headmaster say: ”I don't think we have much choice.”

”It's not right. You know that,” replied McGonagall.

The following week Snape didn't speak to Harry at all although Harry had the feeling he wanted to. Now he was looking at him at every meal and when they passed in the hallways he often looked like he was about to say something but he didn't. Harry didn't know why and at this point he didn't care. It was one less thing to worry about. Things were seemingly back to normal. Every student except Hermione, Ron and Neville seemed to have forgotten about the broom incident and his newfound friends had stopped asking him about it. Still, Harry sometimes found them whispering among themselves. Harry had painstakingly written a letter home and asked Lily how she was doing. It was nerve wrecking to wait for a reply but it came and Lily assured him she was fine and told him to have fun and not worry about her. So she didn't know anything. That was some consolation.

”Mr Potter, please stay after class,” said professor McGonagall and Harry couldn't help but notice the look Hermione gave Ron. Once all the other students had filed out Harry made his way to her desk. McGonagall simply asked him to follow her and lead him to her office where the window was now intact again.

”Won't you sit down?” she said. ”Harry, I'm sure you know I cannot let this go.”

Harry sighed. I wish you would. ”Professor, you don't understand, it really is nothing.”

”Please,” interjected McGonagall. ”Harry, I want you to know you are safe here. I don't know why you feel you cannot tell us. I know professor Snape spoke to you and I've informed him not to speak to you or go near you outside of classes. If he does all you have to do is tell me. He can't go near you, Harry. You're safe here.”

”I never said he did anything to me,” Harry argued.

”No, you didn't,” she agreed. ”But unless you can tell me who did I cannot allow him near you or allow you to go home.”

That got Harry's attention. ”No! I have to go home! I mean, I should have been expelled for flying!”

”Professor Dumbledore and I are both aware of you mother's condition and we know what a blow a Ministry investigation will be for her and to you. We would like to spare you as best we can.”

”You can't do that!” cried Harry and leapt from his seat. Then they would investigate Aoife too and she would be so mad! ”I won't let you do that!”

”There are other ways. Harry if you feel you cannot tell us perhaps you could show us? You see, there is magic that makes it possible to see another persons thoughts and memories and the Headmaster is able to do this. It's illegal to perform this magic without consent however so we need you to agree. I don't like the idea either Harry but professor Dumbledore might be right that it could work.”

Harry's chest hurt with emotions as he looked up at her. ”Professor Snape didn't do this. That's the truth so there! And you are just making things worse for everyone! Leave us alone!”

”Harry, you don't understand...” But she didn't get to finish that sentence because Harry got up and left. He knew she was trying to help but why couldn't she just leave it alone when he told her he was fine and to go away. Harry spend his evening playing cards with Ron. Not regular cards of course and Harry didn't know the rules but Ron was only happy to teach him and happy that Harry wanted to do something together.

”Are you even allowed to be here?” Ron said with a slight sneer as Hermione sat down on Harry's bed. The two tolerated each other because they both liked Harry but Harry knew it wasn't without difficulty.

”Did you even listen to the prefects on the first night?” replied Hermione.

”So we can go in your dorm then?” asked Seamus who was writing a letter on his bed.

”No,” said Hermione as she rolled her eyes. ”The Hogwarts rules clearly state that...”

”Yeah, yeah, yeah!” Ron interrupted. ”Harry, what are you doing there, mate?”

”Oh, nothing!” said Harry who had been lost in thought. ”Where's Neville anyway?”

”I believe he is looking for Trevor,” said Hermione. It wasn't long until Seamus and Ron were arguing about whether or not some Quidditch player was better than some other one. It didn't make much sense to him. He wasn't a very studious boy in particular but he and Hermione had decided to work on their charms homework together. Harry welcomed the distraction and Hermione's constant chatting about it.

”I think it is a wonderful thing that you are focusing on your studies, Harry! If your grades are good I'm sure they won't care as much about all the trouble you've been in.”

Harry paused in the middle of reading a sentence. People needed to leave it alone. ”I'm not in trouble,” he said rather shortly. ”You don't know anything about it.”

”That's right... I don't,” said Hermione in a voice sounded both hurt and worried.

His chest was hurting terribly yet he kept running. He knew he just knew that Lily was in danger. He refused to believe that he wouldn't make it. He was sinking into the floor and it was getting harder and harder for him to keep moving forward. Shadowy hands emerged from the stone walls and reached for him. He was crying. He struggled to get free but he was drawn further and further back and into the darkness.

Harry awoke with a start. His heart was pounding in his chest and was obviously the cause of the pain. As soon as he realized where he was he wiped his eyes and reached for his glasses. He pulled his knees up under his chin and tried to get his breathing under control. He couldn't do this anymore. He couldn't keep this going with everyone sticking their nose in his affairs. Neither his Head of House nor his friends would leave it alone! Why couldn't they just understand? It would be be fine so long as nothing got out but if McGonagall started an investigation he was so dead. No, worse! His mother was so dead! He felt the urge to cry emerging again and sniffed. He didn't know what time it was. It was dark and all his friends were asleep. He had to do something about it but what? He didn't have anyone to confide in and how was he supposed to make them stop on his own? He had tried! But McGonagall wouldn't listen! Actually come to think of it, there was one place he could could go. Maybe. It was taking a chance. As Harry looked out into the darkness the silence was almost suffocating him. How was it possible to be in a place with so many people and still be so alone? No one was awake to see him slip out of the portrait hole.

He found himself hesitating as he stood in front of the door. The stone floors of the dungeons were icy cold against his bare feet and he wished he'd thought to at the very least wear socks. He was panting and found that his breath was visible in the cold subterranean halls. He half expected Malfoy to walk around the corner any moment. What did he have to lose? He most likely wasn't there! He could be at home or in his quarters for all he knew. In fact this was really stupid. He risked getting caught for this. He was still wearing his pajamas – perhaps they would believe he was sleep walking. Harry raised his hand and paused again. He took a deep breath and knocked ever so gently on the door. Since Filch didn't rise from the floor at the sound he pulled himself together and knocked harder. Please be there, please be there, please be there. To his surprise the door flung open and revealed Snape sitting at his desk. The desk held several stacks of papers and he had a few papers in in his hand and appeared to have been reading them. He looked towards the door with an expression of annoyance and resentment but to Harry's astonishment it changed to surprise when he saw who the visitor was. ”Hi,” Harry greeted, still thinking this had been a stupid idea. ”Erm... May I enter... Professor?” Snape stared at him for a moment before he put the papers down and rose from his chair.

”You're not permitted to be here,” he stated matter-of-factly. ”Return to your dorm immediately.”

”I wanted to talk to you,” Harry objected.

”I am certain your Head of House can deal with whatever problems you may have. As it is, you are out after curfew,” replied Snape and moved towards the door, likely with the intention of shutting it on Harry.

”She can't help me. She is the problem,” said Harry quickly. ”I want her to stop. Why won't she stop?”

Snape paused and considered the boy in front of him. Then he sighed and grabbed the door handle. ”Minerva will skin me alive if she finds out you were here. Well... Get in. What are you standing there for?” Harry didn't need to be told twice. He hurried inside and Snape shut the door behind him. Harry opted for standing by the desk but Snape flicked his wand and a chair flew over to Harry. As he sat down Snape slowly made his way back to the desk. Harry stretched his neck in an attempt to see what kind of papers were keeping Snape up but then the man spoke: ”Have you any idea what time it is?”

”No,” Harry admitted.

”1:45 AM,” Snape informed him and Harry couldn't help but look down when Snape spoke to him like that. It was like being home. ”Oh, for Merlin's sake! You stupid boy!” snapped Snape suddenly and Harry looked up confused as to what he had done now when a grey blanket appeared around him. ”If you catch a cold I am sure to be blamed for that as well,” huffed Snape. ”Is the concept of shoes beyond your comprehension?”

Harry didn't reply to that as he assumed it was rhetorical. ”I need your help,” Harry said. ”I want McGonagall to stop asking asking questions. I want her to leave it alone.”

Snape arched an eyebrow. ”And just how do you suppose I aid you in that? Do you honestly think she would believe a word either of us say?” Snape turned pensive for a moment and studied Harry in silence. ”Curse marks cannot be easily dated but by your own admission to the Headmaster you acquired both that and the bruises at home. How?”

”The same way I got most of the bruises I've had,” muttered Harry.

”The truth, Harry. If you could either tell the truth or at least lie convincingly this mess could have been avoided.”

”It is the truth,” mumbled Harry in reply. ”Look, I'm not talking about it so stop it!”

”Hmm...” Snape hummed deeply. Harry felt like the greatest idiot alive. He'd actually assumed Snape wouldn't ask any additional questions. He never had before. 'I fell on the stairs' or things like that had been enough previously. Of course Snape didn't believe him when he as a small child had cried because Aoife had pinched him. She hadn't left marks back then either. Nor had she ever left this many and this severe marks. Harry suddenly found a black pair of eyes upon him. Snape looked... tired... almost worried. It was strange. He could easily have Snape take the fall. He didn't know if they would take him away or something. But he could have told them Snape did it and get back at him. Harry found he didn't want to. He couldn't stand him but he found he hated Aoife more and he couldn't bear to imagine what his mother would say either. In fact, he realized, that was bound to crush her. ”Is it someone in the village? The Allyns?” Snape asked. There were not many magical families in their neighborhood but the Allyns were some of them. Harry just stared at him. He clearly didn't even consider the possibility that it had happened in the house and Harry wasn't sure if it was because Snape didn't think Aoife capable of it or because he couldn't believe it could happen without him noticing. Perhaps he did not want to believe it. When Harry didn't reply, Snape spoke again.

”How on earth do you imagine I can end this if you cannot at the very least tell me the truth?”

”We could talk to them together,” Harry shrugged. ”And explain you did nothing.”

”And they would still demand an explanation,” Snape snapped. ”Do you plan to lie you way out of this? Because you are doing a terrible job.”

”Then you do it. You tell me what to say – since you're so good at it,” Harry replied with hints of venom.

”Even if I managed to do so, you truly imagine I myself would let this go?”

”Why would you care?” Harry said, glaring at the man.

”Listen to yourself!” Snape replied firmly. ”I will not help you unless you tell me.”

”Fine!” Harry cried as he jumped from his seat, leaving the blanket on the floor. ”I'll tell you when it's over then! But you promise not to tell anyone else!” If he was going to lie through his teeth he might as well start now.

”Mhmm...” Snape rose from his seat and walked around the desk. He picked up the blanket and handed it to Harry. As the boy took it Snape held on to it a few additional seconds as he looked at the boy. Harry didn't know what that meant. Snape let it go and paced for a few steps. ”You couldn't wait until daylight?” he said while rubbing his temples. As Snape seemed to be thinking intensively, Harry stared straight ahead with a vacant expression. Then his eyes once again fell on the papers Snape had been reading. Now that the man had put them down they were no longer in a neat stack and despite everything being upside down Harry tried to read the one now lying closest to him but it proved too difficult. That was when he saw what he was pretty sure was his own name there. ”What are those?” he said as he got up to take a closer look.

”That...” said Snape as he quickly moved over to the desk and grabbed the papers. ”Does not concern you.”

”Yes, it does!” Harry objected. ”I saw my name was on it.”

”You are entirely to nosy,” Snape stated. He sighed deeply and glanced at the pages in his hands. ”I suppose... It does not matter now.” With that he handed the papers to Harry. The boy stared at them. There was his name, his birthday, the names of his parents. There were paragraph and long words and dotted lines and several places he saw the handwritten initials of his mother and her curly signature was right there on the last page. ”These are adoption papers,” Harry mumbled.

”Really? I hadn't noticed.” Snape's voice was laced with sarcasm.

”But...” Harry was in disbelief. ”I told you I wouldn't do it! I hate you!”

”Then I am certain you will be happy to hear that nothing will come of it,” said Snape as he stepped closer and snatched them from Harry's hands before dumping them in a desk drawer. ”As for the matter at hand...”

”What are we going to do?” asked Harry though he was still puzzled as to why Snape had been reading those papers.

”We will do nothing for now. You will return to your tower and go to bed,” Snape replied. Harry was about to open his mouth and object but Snape continued: ”No, I do not want to hear it. You are out after curfew and additionally if you were to be found anywhere near this vicinity professor McGonagall will likely use my face as a scratching post.”

Harry huffed and got up. He wrapped the blanket tightly around himself and hurried towards the door. He didn't think Snape would help him at all but seeing as it concerned him too, Harry had hoped he would at least be a little bit useful.

”Harry...” The boy of the same name froze when he felt a hand on his shoulder. ”If you do anything half as idiotic and dangerous as you did at flying instruction again I will take you over my knee – investigations or not!” The words were not spoken with malice or even the same anger they usually were. Again Snape sounded nothing but exhausted. Harry just glared at the man and mumbled 'goodnight' before slipping out into the dungeons.

Harry walked through the dark castle consumed by his thoughts upon stupid stepfathers who were no use to anybody. Therefore his heart nearly jumped into his throat when he paused to consider his direction and heard footsteps. He was on the staircase and as he looked down over the stone banisters he saw lights lighting up below him, illuminating the path of another coming up the stairs. Harry did not feel particularly inclined to being caught out so he hurried to the landing and hid in a dark corner next to an enormous decorated vase of some sort. The blanket, he hoped, would help to conceal him. As the other person ascended, flames lit along the way and were extinguished once they passed. Harry held his breath. Light suddenly shone at the end of one of the hallways on Harry's floor. Someone was coming to meet the other person. Then he, for it was clearly a man, reached the same floor and stepped onto the landing. He was a lean man in a shabby brown suit with light brown hair. He paused as if he had heard something. Harry covered his mouth but his heart beat so fast that he could have sworn the man could hear it. He stood perfectly still. Harry had never seen him before and he was pretty sure he wasn't a Hogwarts professor.

The man seemed alert. The light at the end of the hall partially illuminated his face and shone in his hair. He was pale though he looked more grey than anything. Scars were visible in several places. Then the man turned his head and his face fell into shadows as he stared straight at Harry. Harry didn't know where to run or scream so he did neither and just sat there – still as a statue. It felt like ages until the man finally moved and when he did he turned to the hallway a nodded as if he could see someone down there and continued his walk towards the light. When Harry finally regained control of his own body he did not care for stealth but ran all the way back to the Gryffindor tower. The man had seen him! He had to! He couldn't possible have missed him! Harry pulled the covers of his bed over his head. He couldn't tell why but he had this terrible feeling that the man could have lunged and gobbled him up. Harry lay curled up and hyperventilated for a while until his breathing slowed and he eventually fell into uneasy sleep.

Harry evaded McGonagall's detection that night. At least that was what he assumed since she did not reprimand him for going and Snape appeared at breakfast in one piece. The days passed and Harry began to find himself angry. Snape did not speak a word to him. On the plus side McGonagall seemed to have backed off the tiniest bit but Harry knew she had not forgotten when Harry arrived to transfiguration without his one foot essay – having begun to neglect his homework and McGonagall simply looked at him sternly and said she wanted it on her desk the following day. Hermione was shocked of course! It was almost funny to see the girl so torn between wishing McGonagall had taken points for the sake of fairness and being glad that Gryffindor did not lose points.

He had all but given up hope. The world seemed hectic and colourful. There was just the thing that Harry wasn't in it. He was standing outside and looking in. He was wandering the halls in his own bubble – cut off from everyone, even his friends. Harry felt like an imposter. Like he shouldn't even be there. He didn't belong here. He didn't belong with all those smiling, fresh faces that skipped down the corridors. They didn't have a care in the world but Harry did. His life was falling apart before it had even properly begun and Harry knew he had only one function now and that was to protect Lily. Harry seemed to have found a new rhythm in life. During the day he sat there mute in class. In the afternoon and evening he either did his homework with Hermione or walked. Occasionally he would play a game with the boys. In the night he lay awake sometimes for hours and when he finally fell asleep his dreams were disturbed by nightmares he could never remember.

One night in late October he was lying in his bed. He had been chased momentarily by Peeves earlier that evening and now had a sore knee as he had stumbled on the staircase. There was a scrape and a forming bruise and despite the fact he knew Pomfrey could easily fix it he wouldn't go to her because he couldn't be sure if she'd even believe the truth – that he actually fell this time! Harry kept tossing and turning. Despite the cool air of the dormitory his bed warm and Harry was sweating. Annoyed that he couldn't seem to get comfortable he pulled his pillow from under his head, tossed it to the foot of the bed and sat up. It wasn't even that late to be honest. Around eleven o'clock? There were still students in the common room. Only Ron and Seamus were actually in their beds. Harry decided he would demand an explanation from Snape. He had probably better wait until tomorrow though. But that wouldn't do, Harry then thought, because Snape would either ignore him or send him away during the day time and what about the Slytherins? They would see him there! Harry rose from his bed and put on his socks and a jumper over his pyjamas before he went downstairs.

”Harry, where do you think you're going?” Percy's voice stopped him in his tracks just as he was about to open the common room door. Harry had actually assumed people would be too distracted by each other to notice him.

”Erm.. Hospital wing,” Harry replied. Percy nodded thoughtfully and Neville looked up from his book.

”Then I shall escort you,” promised the prefect but just as he did there was a loud bang when something – most likely belonging to a certain pair of twins exploded upstairs. ”Wait here, Harry. George! Fred! What do you think you're doing?” cried Percy as he marched up the stairs. Harry took the opportunity to slip outside. The corridor was dark and quiet. The portrait effectively shut out the noise from the common room. ”Going out at this hour?” questioned the lady in the portrait but Harry did not pay her any attention. He continued towards the stairs and begun his descend. It was around the third floor that a noise startled him and Harry froze to the spot. His grip on the bannister was tight as he listened in the darkness. A terrible thought hit him: What if that man was still here? Harry held his breath and strained his ears. Nothing. Only the sound of an occasional staircase moving at random. Otherwise it was dark and quiet. Harry breathed a sigh of relief and stepped down onto the next step.

”Harry?” It was almost a whisper but it was loud enough to reach Harry's ears and cause him to shriek. His head snapped up in the direction the voice had come from. There on the floor above him, he saw a figure. It was an adult for sure! Harry didn't need to think it over. He was sure it was the same man he had seen before even though the darkness almost concealed him now. ”Harry is that you?”

The boy didn't reply. He was dead! He was so dead! Harry ran, not caring how loud his footsteps might be. He had to reach the dungeons before the man caught him! He didn't have time to look whether he was following him. The man's presence had blocked the path back to the tower.

”Wait!” he heard the man call somewhere above him but Harry continued to run despite almost falling down the stairs several times. So many questions ran through his mind. Who was that man? Why was he back? Had he even left? Why did he know his name? Harry didn't really consider that even if his descend wasn't loud in itself it was certainly not stealthy either and since it was not yet midnight he might easily met a professor along the way or even worse, Filch. The air became colder and the stone floors less polished. He reached the now familiar office door and this time knocked upon it with no reservation. Please, please open! But this time his fright of being found outside the door was quite different. The man could catch up to him any minute now. Harry kept knocking hard on the door but nothing happened and his panic did not lessen. Memories of another time he was alone in a corridor with an unhinged adult came to mind and yet the door did not open. It was a miracle that his heart did not stop beating for in the next moment Harry felt a hand on his shoulder and he sucked in his breath.

”Stop that at once! Do you mean to wake up the entire school? What on earth are you doing here - again?” Harry closed eyes and almost whimpered in relief. It was no murderous stranger. It was his stepfather. Whether that was much of an improvement was another matter. A moment later he was sitting in the chair in Snape's office trying to process it all. He briefly thought about mentioning the man but stopped himself in time. Snape would not believe him anyway. The man himself was pacing behind him.

”You cannot keep doing this! Are you out of your mind?” Snape said.

”You wouldn't talk to me!” Harry countered.

”We are treading on very thin ice,” warned Snape as he stopped pacing. ”Without proof there is very little I can do and even you should be able to comprehend that much.”

Harry huffed in reply to that. He might as well just go ask Hermione for help she seemed to be more capable than any of the adults around here. ”Why?” said Harry mostly because he was only half listening.

”It is by now rather well know that our... relationship is not particularly... warm,” Snape commented. Harry looked up at him in annoyance and had to bite his tongue so he wouldn't inform Snape that that was all Snape's fault. It hurt to think about it and so Harry rarely did but he used to try. When he was younger he had actually wanted Snape to be his father and he had tried, he had really tried, to please the man but all he had been met with was icy indifference.

”Well, maybe if you were nicer to me they wouldn't believe you did it,” said Harry.

”And maybe if you shoved me some respect...” began Snape but he didn't get to finish because Harry interrupted him.

”Well, I would if you deserved it!” he cried and Snape closed his eyes tightly for a moment, clearly restraining himself from either saying or doing something. He didn't have long to consider what that might be because suddenly the fireplace flared a familiar bright green and two figures stepped out into the room. The Headmaster's eyes twinkled as much as his gold and yellow robe and McGonagall's eyes were steely.

”So...” she said harshly as she glared at Snape. ”Harry come over here, won't you?” she continued in a much softer voice.

”Come now, Minerva,” said Dumbledore in a rather pensive tone of voice. ”There's no reason for raised voices, I'm sure. So far it is only a matter of a student out after curfew.”

”I had thought I had made things very clear to you, Severus. Evidently I was mistaken,” continued the Head of Gryffindor.

”I just came to visit him,” Harry suddenly said. ”I know I shouldn't be out after ten but I just really wanted to hear how my mother is doing. I'm sorry.” McGonagall's expression changed to confusion. Snape remained expressionless but Harry could tell he knew Harry was lying and unsure of how to respond to it. The Headmaster was oddly unreadable. He looked almost bemused.

”Yes... Well... Harry that is hardly the issue,” continued McGonagall after a moments pause. ”We wish to keep you safe, Harry. Surely you could write to her? What would possess you to come down here? Did he ask you to come?”

”I most certainly did not!” Snape interjected.

”Harry, come over here and we'll floo you back to your common room. We have some things to discuss with professor Snape,” said McGonagall almost as if she was speaking to a five year old.

Harry's eyes darted from the newcomers to Snape and back again. He wasn't so dumb he didn't know what that was about and judging by the look on Snape's face he had expected this to happen sooner or later. Harry had only made it worse by being here, he realised. It was true what Snape had said. Everyone could see how they felt about each other, hell, that was the only reason his housemates trusted him! Who would really believe Harry would risk detention to come visit with Snape of his own free will? So Harry moved but much to the surprise of the adults he went to Snape and turned to face the other professors. ”It's not his fault. I came here. I wanted to see him,” Harry objected.

”Harry, you don't have to say that,” began McGonagall.

”Minerva, please,” said Dumbledore. ”Surely we can discuss this calmly. Perhaps we would be more comfortable if...”

”He didn't do it! So leave us alone!” cried Harry at the sight of the indignation on McGonagall's face. ”I...” he began but he was surprised to feel a hand on his shoulder. It was just resting there in an oddly comforting way.

”Calm down, Harry,” said Snape slowly in a strange gentle way that Harry thought was so unlike him. ”They mean well. They just want to know what happened to you. We all do.” Well, now Harry was completely sure. Snape was acting and he was doing a surprisingly good job of it.

”Severus?” said McGonagall, obviously suspicious of that unexpected delivery.

”What, Minerva? Am I not allowed to care when my son is hurt? I already told you several times! I know as little as you do and am just as eager to discover the truth!” snapped Snape.

Harry couldn't help but notice that the word 'son' didn't come easily to Snape though he doubted few but him would be able to tell it was forced out.

”We may not appear to live up to Hufflepuff standards of togetherness but I just so happen to take a very dim view of favouritism and nepotism,” Snape continued and Harry had to stop himself from snorting at the notion that Snape didn't favour some students over others.

”Well, then I would suggest you urge Harry tell us or permit us to use occlumency,” snapped McGonagall. The situation was clearly making her very unease.

”Minerva, if the boy will not submit to it, it would be a very unethical thing to force upon him,” mused Dumbledore as though this was a slight annoyance but nothing to be worried about.

”But surely with a parent's permission...” began McGonagall.

”Whether I would condone it is immaterial as I do not have guardianship of any kind over Harry,” said Snape. ”You will find my wife has full custody and if you intend to floo over there and explain to her why it is you wish to search her son's memories then I suppose there is not much I can do to stop you - but I will say that should it compromise her health in any way I will not rest until you are held responsible!”

”Might I suggest... We at the very least rule Severus out? He may submit to questioning of his own free will,” said Dumbledore calmly.

”Albus! You said yourself he is fairly skilled at...” began McGonagall.

”If it would ease your mind we might employ Veritaserum,” the Headmaster supplied. ”Severus would that be acceptable to you?”

Snape looked stoic but a small twitch of his lips momentarily made him look like he had swallowed something sour. ”It will,” he said slowly.

”When will we do this?” questioned McGonagall.

”She will not be present!” said Snape and pointed a bony finger at the witch, his other hand still placed uncomfortably on the shoulder of the boy whose presence they seemed to have all forgotten.

”What's that? What does that mean?” asked Harry and thus drew attention to himself. The adult were quiet for a moment.

”Harry, I believe you should return to you bed,” said Snape and gently pushed him towards McGonagall.

”Come Harry,” called McGonagall. ”You're not in trouble this time but don't do this again, do you hear?” Harry just looked around at them with annoyance. Figures! As soon as someone is actually about to do something he would be kept in the dark! Professor McGonagall guided him to the fireplace before she threw in a handful of powder and said 'Gryffindor common room'. She then nudged Harry into the flames and the last he saw as he whirled upwards was a rare glimpse of nervousness in his stepfather's eyes.

The following day Snape was not present at meals. Harry was getting rather nervous since both the Headmaster and McGonagall was there and there was no indication of what they had been up to the following night. Older students were whispering about something but before Harry could eavesdrop on them Percy Weasley came over to him and sternly told Harry not to do that again and that he was sorry he had to call professor McGonagall but the rules were the rules! "Where do you think Snape is?” Harry asked Ron as soon as his mate's older brother had returned to his seat.

”Dunno,” Ron mumbled with his mouth full of scrambled eggs. ”Aren't bats nocturnal?” Harry knew Ron was still upset about the 'T' he'd gotten on their last potions assignment but oddly enough he couldn't help but feel slightly annoyed by Ron's comment. Why was he so worried about Snape anyway? What was it to him if Snape fell down a well and died? Well, it wasn't inconsequential – even if Harry wanted it to be. The following day there was still no sign of the Head of Slytherin. Harry was getting more and more unnerved as the rest of the students chatted happily about the upcoming Halloween feast. Harry and his friends made their way to potions. At this point they allowed him to trail behind in silence because they knew there was no getting Harry involved in the conversation unless he himself initiated it.

The classroom was curiously empty as the first year students filed into it. Apart from the very first lesson, Snape had always been sitting ominously behind his desk and observed the students as they arrived, making sure to note who was late. But today there was no one here and the class began whispering and later chatting with each other. Snape was never late to his own classes. Ten minutes had passed and still he was not there. Some of the Gryffindors looked uneasy but the Slytherins seemed rather calm. Perhaps they knew something. Then the door opened and Harry could tell simply from the quietness of it that it was not professor Snape entering. And he was right. Harry turned around to look at the newcomer and locked eyes with a shabby looking man with light brown hair and scars upon his face!

”Good morning, class!” he greeted them cheerfully. ”I'm sure you are all wondering where your Potions Master is at the present! I'm afraid he has been taken ill and will not be returning to his duties just yet! In the meantime I have been taking over his classes and I am very happy to meet you all! Now while I am here you may refer to me as Professor Lupin,” he said as he walked to the blackboard and wrote his name there. Harry felt like he was frozen to his seat. ”Now, I do not claim to be as brilliant as your professor is but I'm sure we will get through this together!” Lupin continued. ”Now! I've been informed you are studying properties of Snarking Skunkpine Root, am I correct in assuming that? How far did you get?” he asked the class.

Hermione's hand immediately flew up as the Slytherin students looked on with a horrified expression. When the smiling man nodded to her she exclaimed: ”We went over its powdered usages, professor!”

”Excellent!” said professor Lupin. He reached for a piece of parchment in his pocket. ”Ah... Miss.. Granger, I believe? Very well! We shall be going over the usages of Skunkpine Root juice today but as it is not a very useful subject at this stage and rather complex I say we finish up by having some fun at the end. How many of you have heard of Shrinking Poodletops?” he inquired and Harry wanted to sink into the floor. What was this man doing here? Who on earth was he? And why would someone the Headmaster clearly would allow to teach be creeping around the school at night? Not to mention Harry was pretty sure this was the man who had called his name from the darkness.

Hermione's hand immediate flew in the air. ”Professor! Shrinking Poodletop is type of mushroom native to southern England that is know for its shrinking abilities.” Now, Snape would have sneered at Hermione and called her a know-it-all before chastising her for not waiting until she was picked to speak but professor Lupin didn't seem bothered by her at all. He smiled at her and nodded. ”That's correct, Miss Granger! 5 points to Gryffindor!” Malfoy gasped in mortification and honestly Harry was every bit as ill at ease as the Slytherin. ”Good! Who would like to start by telling me the correct way to store Skunkpine Root juice?” asked the strange man as he nonchalantly opened a potions book – clearly because he didn't know the answers by heart himself. Harry just stared at him. He would have to go and see Snape and find out what was going on!

”Mr Potter, do you have an answer for us?” asked the man gently and Harry realised he had been caught staring and probably mistaken for a student who was too shy to raise their hand. ”Erh...” said Harry as Pansy Parkinson sniggered in the back. Hermione was nearly standing on her chair with her arm raised. ”Wait,” the man gently told her and there was no longer any doubt in Harry's mind. This was the mysterious man in the dark.

Snape did not appear over the following days and it was upsetting to both Harry, Hermione and the Slytherins. The rest of the school were apparently celebrating the new temporary teacher – though it was not clear whether that was because they loved him or hated Snape or both. When he did not appear on the second day, Harry marched into McGonagall's office – much to his surprise joined by Hermione and asked where the professor might be. But McGonagall only said that he was 'away' and that they need not worry. Then she sent Harry a look full of pity and told him to come to her if there was anything else he needed. The next day there was still no sign and Harry was getting increasingly worried. Not because he really cared what happened to the man in general – or so he told himself but because while Snape was by no means a friend he was a sort of somewhat ally – kinda. Well, he still wanted Harry to talk but at least they were on the same side regarding any investigations. The uncertainty that followed when the only adult he had any hope might be any use to him was gone just like that was noticeably affecting the boy.

It was the day of Halloween and school was becoming scary in more than one sense. Decorations were being put up and some of the ghosts got an extra kick out of playing 'Peeves for a day' by jumping out of walls to scare students. There were pumpkins and paper skeletons everywhere. There were missing potions professors and celebrations of Voldemort's defeat. There were evil plots being executed and there were young boys terrified that their world was collapsing around them. On Halloween eve Harry sat on his bed as Ron and Hermione stood in front of him with a confused look on their faces. Percy had been there not half an hour earlier to remind everyone that unless you were in the hospital wing then the feast was mandatory. Harry did not want to go. Ron did and Hermione was indifferent but both friend were adamant that Harry should not sit there alone.

”My father died tonight,” said Harry quietly. ”Did you know that?”

”Yeah, mate. Everyone does,” said Ron who was gnawing on a pumpkin-shaped lollipop.

”He is a hero to all of us,” said Hermione and sent Ron a disapproving look. ”Harry... Is that why you don't want to go?”

Harry shrugged which could be a yes or a no or both depending on how you saw it. That did not really sadden him the way Hermione thought but it filled Harry with bitterness. Bitterness, that the hero, the perfect father was dead and here Harry was, while everyone else celebrated the anniversary of that death – or a death anyway and Harry was worrying himself sick over a man that he hated. The same man who had dared taking his father's place, although not as Harry's father then as his mother's husband. And why would he care anyway? Snape was an evil git! But he was an evil git Harry knew. Someone whose actions and reasoning he was used too and that he could predict. And even though he was the second worst bit of home he was still the only bit Harry had to cling to here. Ron was beginning to trip slightly. He was clearly worried about missing the feast but still reluctant to leave Harry.

”Harry, won't you come down just for bit? We can always leave and professor McGonagall will want to see you there,” said Hermione quietly. But it was clear from her tone of voice that she was not expecting a 'yes'. ”For heavens sake, Ron! Go ahead will you? We'll be right behind you,” she promised on both her own and Harry's behalf when Ron was beginning to glance at the door.

”Right,” said Ron, glancing at Harry before he disappeared. Harry actually smiled ever so slightly at this.

”Hermione, you know you just promised him I'd come, don't you?” said Harry in a slightly accusing tone.

”I know,” mumbled Hermione. ”Harry, won't you? Just for five minutes?” Harry got up in annoyance and walked out with Hermione hot on his heels. Harry was actually partially trying to shake her off by walking too fast yet at the same time not so much that she would actually give up. When Harry realized these feelings he froze to the ground and started to shake. Hermione caught up with him a moment afterwards. ”Harry! Harry? Are you alright?” she questioned with concern.

”I'm sorry,” said Harry, looking away. And he was. He was sorry he could not be a friend to them. He was sorry they worried and he was sorry he wasn't right in the head. ”In here,” said Hermione and nudged him into a nearby bathroom. ”Harry, I know you won't tell me what's wrong but can't you talk to professor McGonagall?” urged his friend once they were alone. Harry did not reply to that. He just sank onto the partially wet floor while Hermione looked on. ”Okay,” she said finally and sat on the floor next to him. ”You don't have to go but we're having Halloween right here then,” she smiled and gave him a firm nod like she had answered a question in class. Harry sat there a while. He was not entirely sure how long but at one point he glanced up and saw Hermione sitting there with a book. She fetched three candies from within her bag and placed two on Harry's thigh. He cried silently as he took one and popped it in his mouth so as to not upset her.

Why were they so nice to him? What did he ever do to deserve that? Aoife was down right malicious towards him. Snape was usually indifferent or overly harsh. His mother seemed not to take much notice as to whether he was there or not. Perhaps it was because they did not know him well that they were so nice? Perhaps it was out of some sort of duty? Or pity? But Harry did not really want to believe that. Even if he weren't fit to be anyone's friend he at least wanted to believe so for now or he would really have nothing left. Hermione either took no notice of Harry's state or she did not comment on it – probably the latter. Oddly enough that was the single most comforting thing she could have done and Harry actually felt a little better about her not demanding an answer as to why he was crying now. He slowly began to unwrap the second sweet and ate it, actually enjoying it a little. ”Don't you want to go to the feast?” said Harry carefully as he studied Hermione.

”Maybe... I don't know. It's just a feast I guess,” shrugged Hermione. Though Harry did not entirely buy it he appreciated it for what it was. ”Yeah...” he said and wiped his eyes with his sleeve. ”Thanks.” Hermione nodded and Harry shrugged.

”I guess I could have chosen a better location though,” said Hermione looking around. ”It smells in here.”

Harry sniffed the air and grimaced before nodding. ”Ugh! Yeah, I think there must be a broken loo in here,” he commented. ”I didn't think girls' bathrooms smelled,” he said.

Hermione opened her mouth, most likely to contradict that when suddenly they heard a low sound – somewhere between a moan and a growl. Both children flew to a standing position, Hermione dropping her book on the floor. ”W-what was that?” she squeaked. They both stood completely still and listened. Just as Harry was about to comment it might be the faulty plumbing another loud moan was heard. Hermione jumped and grabbed Harry's arm.

”M-maybe we should j-just leave,” suggested Harry but then the moan came again and this time it was clear it was coming from just outside the door. The foul smell was becoming stronger. Hermione crept backwards and dragged Harry with her. ”Shh!” she cautioned. Then in the next instance the door to the bathroom splintered into pieces as something heavy rammed into it. Shrieks of terror escaped both children as they rushed into one of the nearby stalls both only managing a glimpse of the beast entering the room. ”What is that thing?” whispered Harry as he and Hermione clung to one another. ”I think...” said Hermione. ”I think it might be a troll but...” She did not get to finish her sentence as the troll roared clearly being able to smell the two snacks hiding in the bathroom and swung its weapon at one of the stalls. The giant club it carried only narrowly missed the children, taking down the stall next to them and one side of the one they were hiding in. Water began flooding the place as the giant troll roared with annoyance at the screams of the students.

The troll proceeded to take two heavy steps further towards them. ”Harry!” cried Hermione as she crawled across the floor to hide under the sinks. The troll swung and only barely missed the small girl. The tiles of the floor cracked loudly from the force of the blow. ”Hey! … Troll!” cried Harry as he flung a piece of wood at the troll. In the next moment he threw himself to the ground as the giant creature swung widely tearing through the stalls and burying Harry in wood and porcelain. ”Harry!” screamed Hermione from somewhere under the sinks as she lost sight of her friend. Harry fought to crawl out of the rubble but he only barely managed to get out before the club landed inches away from his head. Harry rolled across the floor and the troll swung again at the small screaming one under the sink. Harry scrambled onto his feet as Hermione pressed herself against the wall to avoid being hit. Harry was panicking and frantically trying to think of something to do. The path to the door – or former door, was now open to him but he could not leave Hermione behind. Lacking a weapon he ran towards the troll and kicked the back of its leg as hard as he could. His wand was forgotten entirely. It clearly did not hurt the troll at all but it got its attention and it turned around slowly to face Harry, almost knocking him out with club. Harry fell backwards onto the floor and rolled to the side to dodge the next blow. He turned and grabbed the club only to be raised in the air by a confused mountain troll.

”Harry?!” cried someone but it was not Hermione. The troll swung the club around in the air, trying to get the boy to let go so Harry could not see who it was but recognized Ron's voice immediately. Ron began hurling wood and porcelain at the troll and clearly Hermione joined in. ”Ron! Do something! I do not have my wand on me!” cried Hermione. Harry did not know what Ron was planning to do but then he head his friend saying loudly: ”Wingardium Leviosa!” The club stopped moving midair somewhere above the troll's head and while the full stop was confusing to the troll it was completely unexpected to Harry who lost his grip and flew through the air into a wall. Someone screamed but Harry was not sure whether it was Hermione or himself as his head smacked into the wall and he fell to the wet floor. Before Harry blacked out he heard a male adult voice booming: ”Confringo!” The shout was followed by two dull thuds.

When Harry woke up it was clearly bright outside though curtains were drawn. Small beams of light found their way through however. Harry slowly got up and tried to look around but the room was blurry as he was not wearing his glasses. He searched the bedside table to find them lying there but only barely managed not to knock them onto the floor. He was in the hospital wing – alone by the looks of it. The room was rather dark and his head was still hurting slightly. What on earth happened to the troll? He was wearing the infirmary pajamas and his clothes lay neatly folded on a nearby chair. Harry ran his fingers through his spiky hair causing it to look even more messy and moved over to the side of the bed intending to jump off.

”Back to bed,” said a hoarse voice firmly from somewhere within the shadows and Harry nearly fell off the bed in surprise. Harry blinked. No! It couldn't be... ”Snape?” he asked quietly in the direction of the voice. He heard a sigh and then the man rose from his seat and flicked his wand causing the lamp on Harry's nightstand to light up. It was indeed Snape but Harry was still shocked by what he saw. The man's complexion had gone from pasty to ghostly. His hair, though still greasy, did not hang in the usually straight curtains but stuck out in places. He looked tired above anything else. Like a man who had not slept for days. It was so strange to see him standing there after days of worrying about the man and wondering where he was. He did not even answer the question nor did he look at Harry. He stared straight ahead like a man who is either deep in thought or thinking nothing at all. Harry did not even know what to say. He had a million questions to ask.

”Why... am I here?” said Harry, choosing the simplest one to begin with.

”Because you were thrown into wall by troll four times your size,” drawled Snape but his voice had no bite. The only thing in it was exhaustion.

”Have I slept all this time?” asked Harry as he desperately tried to remember the details.

”Hardly, you've been woken several times for check-ups I am told. You will be happy to know you got lucky. A concussion but no broken bones,” said Snape as he removed Harry's clothes from the chair near the cot and placed it on the nightstand before sitting down. Someone had arrived to save them? That wasn't Snape right? Could it be? "What happened to the troll?” Harry asked. Snape glanced at him for the first time. ”I am told professor McGonagall and Lupin arrived and took care of the situation." He tensed when he spoke Lupin's name though Harry did not know why.

”Oh,” said Harry. That made sense. ”Are the others okay?” Snape just sighed in response. ”Why are you here?” said Harry finally getting to the question that was bugging him the most. ”Where have you been? Why did you leave?”

”Am I here,” said Snape curtly and Harry lowered his head. ”Because I could not be prevented from being here. Not when something as serious as this befalls you at least.”

”Oh,” Harry repeated himself. That answer was not at all satisfying. Oddly enough Snape's appearance made Harry think it was him who should be in the cot not Harry. ”What happened?” said Harry and raised his head to look into Snape's black eyes, hoping to convey what incident he was referring to.

”You needn't worry yourself,” said Snape in a voice laced with bitterness and rose abruptly from his seat as though he was insulted by the question. Harry was not sure whether Snape thought he was faking being worried just to be nosy or he was upset because Harry worried.

”But I do!” Harry objected. ”It's not fair! You can't just disappear and not tell me anything like that! What am I supposed to think?”

”I imagined you would be pleased,” sneered Snape but then his facial features softened and he rubbed his temples. ”I was subjected to Veritaserum – a potion that forces you to speak only the truth - as you know it,” he explained. ”I was not very successful at my negotiations and the Headmaster permitted your Head of House to remain present,” he continued.

”So?” questioned Harry. ”So...” repeated Snape. ”She is at the very least content that I am not responsible for the injuries they discovered upon you.” There was no triumph in Snape's voice. No hint that he was pleased with the results and still no answer to why he had disappeared. Snape looked away from Harry and the boy crept further down the bed to get closer. ”The potion is in effect for some time depending on the dosage,” said Snape hoarsely. Harry stared at the shadow of a man in confusion, taking in the dark half-circles under his eyes and the strange weak body-language that was so entirely unlike him. Then it clicked. It was the combination of Snape's phrasing and the way he had said 'the injuries discovered upon you' where he might as easily have said she knew he did not abuse Harry.

”Did she..?” Harry didn't even finish the question. ”Professor McGonagall thought it necessary to question me further,” said Snape with a blank stare. ”You cannot refuse to answer a question when affected by the potion.”

”I'm sorry,” Harry offered. He wasn't entirely sure how McGonagall had reacted to details of their actual relationship but he was not sure he wanted to know. ”I believe many would argue she did nothing to me that I did not deserve,” said Snape firmly, clearly uncomfortable with the topic. Harry wanted to ask exactly what she did and what she had asked but settled for: ”But she's not allowed to hurt you is she?” Snape let out something which might by someone else be considered a chuckle but Harry knew his ears were playing a trick on him. ”Professor McGonagall is not prone to rage. Still, I suggest you do not provoke it.” He looked at Harry for a moment as if considering something. ”Calm yourself. The Headmaster would never permit her to harm me.” Still, Harry could not help but think to himself that she might still have gotten to do something before she could be prevented – why else would Snape be looking so awful? ”Where were you?” he said.

”Prince Manor,” replied Snape pensively.

”Oh... Is mum okay?” Harry said. He did not think Aoife would have done anything terrible with Snape there. Snape paused for a moment. ”Yes.”

Harry didn't know how to feel. This had to be the strangest conversation of his life. He'd thought Snape's return might bring some reassurance but it only raised more questions. Harry found himself more worried now that the man was there than he had been when he wasn't. ”You need to rest,” said Snape suddenly. ”I will inform Madam Pomfrey that you are awake.” Then he rose slowly from his seat. ”Wait!” said Harry and jumped off the cot. Snape turned and gave Harry a stern look before pointing a bony finger at the bed. It came as a surprise to Harry who had almost only seen resignation and exhaustion in the man's eyes during their talk. The boy gulped slightly at the familiar look which made him feel two inches tall and crawled back up in the bed. ”Are you coming back?” he asked quietly as Snape turned to leave. Snape turned back around and placed a hand on Harry's shoulder, slowly but firmly pushing him back down onto the bed. ”Yes, I believe so. Otherwise there will be a staff shortage now that Quirrel has had an... accident. Now rest,” he said shortly. Then, without another word the man turned and left the infirmary, the sound of his footsteps echoing on the stone floors.

”But I don't understand, sir!” said Hermione loudly. Professor Lupin raised a bemused eyebrow. ”We were with the troll, sir! And professor Quirrel was looking for it too so how could he have gotten hurt?” There was a loud sigh from some of the students. They seemed to be divided between those who still spoke of Harry, Ron and Hermione as heroes who survived a troll and others who did not believe it and insisted the teachers had arrived before Hermione and Ron said they did and that the first years were just full of themselves. Of course every mention Hermione and specifically Ron made of it was taken as boasting by this group.

”He had an accident as he disposed of the troll, as has been explained, now today I thought we might discuss...” Lupin continued.

”But it was unconscious! I saw you knock it out!” Hermione objected and a group of students oo'ed.

Harry covered his eyes. He was still slightly groggy but had insisted he was not in order to get out of the infirmary. When he was there he felt caged and like everything happened without him. He rubbed his temples and blocked out the discussion currently taking place in the DADA class.

”Harry?” said a voice just above him and Harry was startled and snapped his face up to look at Lupin who now stood in front of his desk. ”Are you alright? Do you need to go back to the hospital wing?” said the man gently. Harry blinked. Why does he keep calling me Harry? But he was not even sure he wanted to know the answer to that. There was something terribly sinister about him to Harry. And he still did not know what the man had been creeping around the castle at night for or who he had gone to see.

”Uh, no, I'm fine... Sir,” Harry replied quietly and sent Hermione a pleading look but got only a concerned expression in return. The substitute teacher of dubious character nodded and returned to begin the lecture on some small fairylike creature but Harry was not listening.

”I think he's great,” said Neville later as they were all four sat around a small table in the common room. ”I wish he had stayed in potions though,” the blonde boy admitted nervously. Harry could not blame him. While his potion skills had not exactly improved with Lupin, he was less distraught without Snape constantly pointing out to him that he was useless at it. And since Lupin had not said anything when Hermione helped Neville, the classroom had suffered no explosions or meltings for a change. Neville soon left them in a hurry when he spotted Trevor hopping out of the portrait hole in hot pursuit of two sixth years. ”Are you okay, Harry?” said Ron. ”They say Snape came back while you were in the infirmary, did you hear?”

”Shh! Ron! I don't think Harry is feeling well,” hushed Hermione.

”It's fine, Hermione. I just... I feel really confused, that's all. That Lupin guy, do you... do think he's alright?” Harry said without revealing too much. Ron declared his support of the new substitute with a chocolate frog in his mouth. ”I suppose,” said Hermione thoughtfully but Harry could see the struggle within her between her inclination to be respectful and speak well of teachers – especially ones who saved her from trolls and her dislike for anyone who kept any sort of information from her.

The morning two days later Harry and Ron both woke up to find themselves the only ones still in bed. ”Bloody hell, Harry! We slept through breakfast!” said Ron with as much fear as sorrow in his voice. ”Come on, hurry up!” Harry groaned as he got out of bed. It was never fun to have a rude awakening and not be able to wake up properly at your own pace nor eat breakfast. Some people did not really need to eat breakfast and Harry had definitely learned how to go without over the years but that did not mean he did not want it if he could! The two boys dressed as quickly as they could and hurried out of the common room.

Ron seemed to have a bit more wind than Harry who tried to keep up with his friend despite panting. Ron looked back at him and yelled: ”Harry, come on! McGonagall is going to k.. Hrmph!” Harry looked up just in time to see Ron running straight into someone and then promptly fall back and land on his behind. Harry slowed to a halt and barely kept his balance as his feet slid across the stone floors a short distance.

”Mr Weasley,” drawled a familiar voice. ”And Mr Potter too, I see.” Harry tried to cough a response but Snape merely arched an eyebrow at him and continued. ”Are you incapable of following school rules? Or perhaps you take such great pleasure in stampeding through the corridors that you believe an exception should be made for you?”

”Professor, we are late for..” Ron began defensively. ”Ah but of course! And you reasoned in your immense 11-year old wisdom that you might right one broken rule by breaking another? Get up!” sneered Snape and impatiently pulled Ron to his feet by the arm when he scrambled around on the floor.

”Severus, surely there is no harm done,” said another voice rather cheerfully behind them as professor Lupin emerged.

”No one here is in need of your rescue, Lupin,” huffed Snape. ”May I suggest you return to whatever you occupy your time with.”

”Harry, are you doing alright there,” said Lupin, completely ignoring Snape and instead turning his attention to Harry who had only just caught his breath. At the sound of Harry's name the potion master's expression soured considerably and he released Ron and stepped closer. ”His body is still attached to that empty head of his so as I was saying...”

”You look a little pale, perhaps..” Lupin continued gently, still ignoring Snape. But just as Harry opened his mouth to deny that, he felt Snape's long fingers wrapping themselves around his shoulders.

”If he is unwell, then I will naturally escort him to the infirmary,” Snape hissed. Now, Lupin turned his attention to his colleague and the two men locked eyes. Harry sent a pleading look to Ron who was just standing with wide eyes.

”Severus, surely...” Lupin began now much more assertively.

”I'm fine!” Harry suddenly exclaimed. ”We're just late for transfiguration.”

”Of course,” nodded professor Lupin. ”Would you like me to escort you there, boys? I'm certain Minerva would be understanding if..”

”Although I've seen plenty of evidence to the contrary,” Snape interrupted. ”I'm certain they are capable of making their own way to their classes – provided of course there are no obstructions in their path.”

”Yes, sir. Sorry,” said Harry hurriedly as he wiggled out of Snape's grasp and went over to Ron. Lupin cheerfully nodded at the boys while his dark clad colleague looked just about ready to murder him but neither Harry nor Ron had any desire to remain and witness it and took the chance to mumble their excuses and hurry along. ”Bloody hell, Harry! What do you reckon that was about?” said Ron just before they knocked on the classroom door.

”What do you mean?” said Harry hesitantly. He could still feel Snape's hands resting upon him – almost protectively, yet, Harry shuddered at the thought. He was so confused. Was Lupin up to something? Did Snape know? ”Mate! I just ran into the bat full force and he didn't even take points!” Ron said just as the door swung open.

In fact over the next week things only seemed to get stranger. Harry began to dread Defence Against the Dark Arts and was actually wishing for Quirrel to come back despite have never been comfortable in his classes. Harry felt like everywhere he looked, professor Lupin was there with a gentle smile and helping hand for whatever problem he might perceive Harry to have. Snape was back in potions but the classes had taken a strange turn. For a week, no students in the younger years had brewed anything but simply identified ingredients and Snape's demeanour in the classroom had changed too. While he still walked about with snarky comments he gave them almost as if they were lines. Harry could feel his eyes upon him almost the entire lesson. Neville was cheerful as identifying plant ingredients came easily to him and Hermione became frustrated with what she perceived as a lack of challenge in the subject.

One day Harry was walking the corridors by himself, deep in thought. The only thing Harry really knew was that he would give anything to have his mother there with him. He both longed to go home and was scared to. In his bookbag was a letter addressed to her that Harry had rewritten a hundred times by now. Every time he tried his feelings bled onto the parchment and Harry was scared. Not for himself, as one might think he should have been but for her. Oh, he was an idiot! He'd gone and made a right royal mess out of everything! If only he had not been sneaking around that day! If only Aoife had not found him by that painting! Then everything might have been alright now. What had he done?

”Harry? Do you think you can spare me a few minutes?” said someone next to him, startling Harry and causing him to jump. How had he ended up by Lupin's temporary office? ”Eh...” said Harry but he honestly could not come up with a good excuse to refuse so Harry was still contemplating that as he was let into the office by the professor. ”Why don't you sit down,” nodded Lupin as he closed the door. With nothing coherent to say yet, Harry shuffled over to a chair sat near the desk. He kept his hand on his wand in the pocket of his robes. He was shaking ever so slightly as the idea of being alone with an unfamiliar adult frightened him.

”Professor, is... Did I do something wrong?” said Harry quietly.

”Hmm? Oh, no Harry! Of course not,” smiled Lupin and sat down at the desk. ”Then...?” Harry began. ”Ah, Harry,” said the man calmly. ”I know this must sound very strange to you but I have been wanting to meet you for many years. You see... I'm an old friend of your parents.”

”Huh?” Harry's eyes snapped up to look directly at Lupin for the first time during the conversation. What did he mean? Was he trying to trick him? Snape hated him, didn't he?

”I was at school with James and Lily – in fact your father was my best friend,” Lupin explained. Oh... Harry's cheeks flushed. Did he just put his stepfather in that category? Nope, he realised. It was just difficult not to assume that was what people meant when the majority of people he had met prior to Hogwarts referred to his mother and Snape as his parents.

”Mum's never mentioned that... Sir,” Harry replied cautiously.

Although Lupin's friendly smile remained Harry spotted a sadness in his eyes. ”No, I had understood she might not have. I'm afraid I was away when... it happened and it took quite a while for someone to contact me. And then when I... But that doesn't matter now, I suppose. How is your mother?”

The sincerity with which the question was asked struck Harry who was incredibly confused by it as it was not only unexpected but he did not have a suitable answer to it either. ”She's fine, sir,” Harry replied. I think. Provided he did not make any sudden moves. ”But I don't understand, sir. If you were her friend – why didn't you come to visit?”

”I wanted to, Harry, I did but... It was not possible at the time.” Harry narrowed his eyes. That did not make sense to him at all. How could it be 'not be possible' for so many years? Unless... Oh wait. ”Did he say you couldn't come?” it flew out of Harry much to his own surprise but what was even more odd was that Lupin did not ask him what he meant.

”No, I'm afraid it's nothing so simple. But I was hoping I might get to know you. If you would want to of course. Oh, I almost forgot, chocolate?” Lupin inquired as he produced a bar of chocolate from the top drawer of his desk.

”Erm, sure,” Harry said and accepted a piece. He eyed it suspiciously but found that upon biting into it, it was nothing but creamy dark chocolate. ”Thanks, professor.” Harry looked around the room for a moment, suddenly struck by how dark and impersonal it was. Rather, it did not look like Lupin had added much but a bookcase and candles. ”Did you..” Harry began.

”Yes?” Lupin offered. Harry swallowed. Was he really going to believe this man? ”It's just, did you really know my father? Could you maybe tell me about him a little? If you don't mind.”

Lupin studied Harry with a concerned expression. ”Of course... I would have thought... Is there anything in particular you would like to know?”

The sinking feeling in Harry's chest was almost unbearable as he gave the only answer he could. ”What was he like?” He'd not thought much of the fact that his father wasn't discussed when he was young. After all it had been implied by his stepfather's disgust for him that he might have had something to do with the 'accident' which killed him, injured Harry's mother and traumatised her to the point that talking about it could make her physically ill. But it was all smoke veils – as he could not entirely call it lies. His father was a hero – Hagrid had said so. And the more Harry thought about it the more he realised he knew absolutely nothing about him. He guessed he would have looked a lot like him since he did not look too much like his mother – except for the eyes of course. To think he had once – long ago thought his hair was black because Snape's was. But of course it had soon been made very clear to him that this man was not his father – by the man himself no less.

It took a moment for him to realise that Lupin had not replied. Harry looked up to find the man starring at him with a strange distant look in his eyes. ”Professor?” Harry said. The man blinked. ”Oh, yes, I...” But then he fell quiet again as if he was considering something. ”Your father was the bravest man I've ever known, Harry. And the best friend anyone could wish for. You look very like him, you know!”

”I do?” Harry replied, then he paused. ”Is that why Snape doesn't like you? Because you were friends with my dad? I know he didn't like him very much.” That was an understatement. Harry was very aware Snape hated James, only he had absolutely no idea why if he dismissed Snape's statements about him being 'good for nothing' and 'a prancing prat'.

”I suppose,” Lupin admitted. ”But that is really nothing for you to worry about. Harry.. Professor McGonagall had informed me you might not be entirely happy at home and...”

Harry hadn't really had proper time to digest what he had originally learned from Hagrid as his world had shortly been consumed by the 'Aoife incident'. But contrary to Lupin's instruction he most certainly did worry about it! How could Snape keep all that from him? And why hadn't anyone come to see him then and talked about it? Why hadn't Lupin been there? And why did he care about Harry's life at home now?

”Harry? Harry, I don't want to cause any upset. Of course if you want to talk about it, I'm right here,” Lupin continued. Harry starred up at the scruffy man as if seeing him for the first time. Suddenly professor Lupin didn't seem so scary anymore. Harry did not know if it was because he said he was a friend of his father or the simple fact that Snape disliked him but Harry suddenly felt strange. The rage was bubbling up inside him. It was so unfair! Why had all of this happened to him? He wanted to cry. He wanted to tell Lupin about Aoife and the painting and about his mother being back at the house with a woman Harry was convinced was going to kill her – but he couldn't. He just could not. The words stuck in his throat and he felt trapped.

”I...” Harry began and then proceeded to sniff. ”I have to go.” And with that he whirled out of his seat and headed for the door. He of course did not know but he assumed Lupin rose too from the sound of his chair moving. ”Harry! Harry, are you alright? I didn't mean to...” But the sound of the man's voice disappeared as Harry slammed the door behind him and ran down the corridor. He did not head for the common room or the library or anywhere else familiar. He simply ran until he found a suitably dark corner to curl up in. Shaking with silent sobs he remained there concealed by the shadows.

He didn't know how long it had been when he finally dried his eyes for the last time. His face was no longer moist but his eyes were red and his skin irritated from all the rubbing. His sleeves where stained with dried snot as Harry was not the sort to carry around paper tissues. Harry's limps were stiff and as her got up from the floor he noticed for the first time how hungry he was. What time was it even? Had he missed supper? Harry staggered down the hall, taking note that it was darkening outside but as he didn't know what time the sun set in late November, that was really no help in telling the time. Should he head for the Gryffindor tower then? He was exhausted and found he really only wanted to curl up in bed right now.

”Harry?” The voice was so low he almost did not recognise it. Barely a whisper in fact. He spun around to find a tall dark figure lingering in the shadows. Snape stepped closer and as he passed into the light of a lamp hanging on the wall the first thing that struck Harry was how awful the man looked. He certainly had not looked good when he had returned to the school but it had gotten at least a little better in the following weeks – or had Harry just been imagining that? Because the man before him looked positively ill. But the second thought that struck Harry was that this was the man whose actions Harry had partly just spent the afternoon in agony over and he owed him no sympathy.

”Harry, I need to talk to you. Please, come with me. Quickly,” Snape continued. But the flares of anger rising steadily for every moment he had to look at the man meant that Harry did not even register the rather homely use of his first name nor the fact that his evil stepfather had just used the word 'please'.

”No,” he replied confidently, noting a rather unpleasant smell coming from the man as though he had not showered for days. ”Excuse me?” The disbelief in Snape's voice was evident. ”You heard me. I don't want to talk to you and you know what? I don't want to talk to you ever again so why don't you leave me alone?” Harry countered, now raising his voice. Snape looked like he had just bitten into a lime.

”Mr Potter, this is not a request and..” But even with his schoolmaster tone of voice, Snape did not get to finish that.

”I said: GO AWAY!” Harry cried, blinking away fresh tears.

”What on earth is...” Lupin's voice suddenly said as the man rounded a corner and came upon them. ”Harry! I've been looking for you. Is.. Are you alright?” He said as he took in the scene.

”May I suggest you mind your own business, Lupin?” sneered Snape at the newcomer.

”He is my student as much as yours,” replied Lupin in a surprisingly restrained manner. ”Surely, I'm allowed to inquire after his health and make sure...”

”Well, Lupin, he's my son and you would do well to keep your snout out of it.”

”No, I'm not!” Harry raged. ”You're not my father and don't even try to act like you'd even want to be. I'm done pretending so you can stop doing that! Just go away! I don't want to ever see you again!”

Snape looked like he couldn't make up his mind whether to kill Lupin or Harry although his general appearance suggested he would die trying. Lupin on the other hand looked both shocked and as if he could not decide what to do. Harry ignored it and instead turned around and sprinted down the corridor in the direction of his common room. ”Harry!” Lupin called after him but the boy ignored it. That night he cried openly in the dormitory. Neville and Ron sat on his bed until his sobbing died down as the other boys played a silent card game, not knowing what to do with the situation.

It made him real. That was what Harry had concluded during the night. His father had always been a source of some comfort, a faded picture in Harry's mind which he from time to time would pull out and look at when he was particularly dissatisfied with life. Harry had liked James because Snape didn't. Of course after realizing that asking his mother questions always made her cry he had stopped trying that tactic but as Harry bitterly remembered there was a time where he had wanted Snape to be his father or at least close to, a time he had tried to win the man's affection and when he found he could not, the image of James began to truly take form. Harry would mention him around Snape when he could – because he knew Snape hated that. Perhaps at one time his openly expressed affection for his dead father was meant to cause some form of jealousy or change in Snape but rather quickly it had become just another stick to poke the beast with whenever Harry felt justified in doing so. But meeting professor Lupin, a man who not only knew him and loved him but wanted to talk about him too – that made him real.

As Harry woke up the following morning he had trouble remembering when exactly he had finally fallen asleep. He was still wearing his clothes from yesterday but wrapped up in his bedcover and still snoozing was Ron. Harry rubbed his eyes carefully as he sat up in the bed. It had to be rather early since none of his dorm mates had risen yet. He shuffled along to the bathroom and splashed some water in his face to chase away the last tiredness in his eyes. These were the sort of moments he usually loved. When the castle was asleep and everything was so quiet and peaceful.

You look very like him, you know. Harry stared into the mirror. Had he really yelled at Snape like that? At home he knew what he might expect but here? He'd said he never wanted to see the man again – and he didn't. But Harry had no clue what he wanted instead. Yes, yes he did. He wanted his mother. Was Snape going to tell her what he had said? But what if Snape said he couldn't come back and see her? Harry shuddered involuntarily and grabbed the sink unsure if he was going to be sick or just wasn't properly awake yet. If he never saw his stepfather again then he couldn't go back to the bleak house, he reasoned. And he would never see his mother ever again and she would be there with her and there would be nothing Harry could do! Was there anyway he could convince his mother to come away with him? He sighed. She'd would either call him silly or if he told her all she might get really ill again.

Harry eventually disappeared into the shower as he believed he heard Neville stirring in the dormitory. The remains of the curse had been visible for quite some time after its removal but even though it was gone now, Harry still preferred to shower alone. As soon as they were as presentable as you could expect 11-year old boys to be, they all headed downstairs for breakfast. ”Hey,” Ron said tryingly as they neared the entrance to the great hall. ”Are you alright now? You know... After?”

”Yeah..” Harry replied. ”But... I think I might be in trouble.” He honestly had no idea why he was telling Ron this now but then he recalled how his best friend had not left his side yesterday despite Harry never revealing the cause of his woes. ”I might get a detention,” Harry shrugged. That was always a possibility and therefore half true.

”You might, mate. McGonagall is looking at you,” Ron observed as they sat down in front of Hermione who had clearly been up early.

”Huh?” Harry said, looking up from the orange he was peeling and as he did he instantly locked eyes with his Head of House. She was saying something to Lupin and Flitwick but of course Harry couldn't hear. Still, her eyes remained fixed on him. That was when he noticed it wasn't just McGonagall. Flitwick, Lupin and Sprout were all looking at him. Some form of hushed conversation was going on at the head table and the mood up there seemed tense.

”The Headmaster must be out,” observed Hermione. Indeed his seat was empty. Snape's was too – and Madam Hooch's as well though Harry did not really perceive that as out of the ordinary. ”What the hell did you do? Blow up a tower or something?” Ron mumbled. ”It's probably nothing,” Hermione said. ”Ron! Honestly! It's probably just the usual, you know? Otherwise they would have said something!” Harry bowed his head. Their conversation was beginning to alert those around him and the last thing he wanted was to attract additional attention. ”Pass me the toast, Ron?” he simply said, indicating – at least to Hermione, that he didn't want to talk about it. The buzzing of conversation continued around them. Had Snape said something? Harry's blood ran cold. Had Snape said to Dumbledore that Harry couldn't come back home again? He finished a large glass of pumpkin juice in a matters of seconds, already nervous. He wouldn't do that, would he? Hermione passed him a bowl of plums and Harry held it, just starring at it. What was he going to do? A moment later he dropped the bowl, causing the plums to roll across the table when a hand suddenly clamped down on his shoulder.

”Mr Potter,” said a rather gloomy voice. Harry instantly looked up at his Head of House as Hermione and Neville scrambled to pick up the plums. ”Your presence here is not required. Follow me,” she nodded. Ron had to nudge Harry to stand up. There was something... off about the way McGonagall looked at him. And he couldn't help but notice everyone's eyes upon him as she lead him out of the great hall – knowing full well what it looked like. The heavy doors closed behind them, shutting away the noise of the great hall and sending a thump echoing through the entrance hall. ”Harry, why don't we go to my office?” Professor McGonagall said.

He had seen a quite a bit of it over the last few months and every time he had been here he had been uncomfortable with it. He cautiously seated himself in the chair and glanced out the window through which he had burst on his broom not so terribly long ago. That was the day they found out. She had been pretty cross with him then too until Madam Pomfrey told her about... the thing. ”Professor,” Harry began as McGonagall seemed to be attempting to open a tin. Am I not allowed to eat in the great hall? Is it because I yelled at a teacher? To someone else the questions Harry was too nervous to ask might seem silly but you were not told you were always at fault throughout most of your life without a part of you believing it to be true.

”Harry..” McGonagall waved him off, finally opening the tin with surprisingly shaky hands. ”Would you like a biscuit?” She said holding out the tin. Having not finished his breakfast Harry ignored his inclination to say 'No thanks' and accepted one. ”Professor?” He said quietly, the strange look in McGonagall's eyes unnerving him and then he realized what it was. She was lost for words. His Head of House never was! She was always in control, stern and quick witted. There was a strange look in her eyes now and was she trembling slightly or was Harry imagining it? Suddenly he wanted nothing more than to get out of there.

”I don't understand,” she began slowly. ”Why you are here. But I want you to know... I'm here for you no matter what you feel you need right now.”

Why he was here? Wasn't he supposed to be? ”Professor? You told me to come here?” Harry replied in confusion. The confusion was mirrored in the professors. Just then the door flew open and professor Lupin entered with surprising vivacity, holding a letter. ”It just arrived! The Headmaster says he isn't fit to...” he announced trailing off when he saw Harry there. McGonagall was already on her feet and had her nose in the letter she swiftly snatched from Lupin.

”Oh dear,” she said to no one at all, her voice sorrowful. ”So he's not..” Lupin glanced over at Harry and whispered something to McGonagall which Harry did not manage to catch but as it were he was already terribly unnerved. ”No,” said McGonagall, shaking her head at her colleague who nodded slowly and left, closing the door behind him.

”Oh, Harry, I'm so sorry,” she continued turning to the small boy. ”I thought you knew but he hasn't been..” Harry was frozen with fear and it emptied his mind. He could not even think up possible nightmares. In that moment he was nothing but that one emotion. And yet, in a strange way Harry would often theorize about later on in his life – he knew. He knew then and there and if Harry could not feel his heart still thundering in his chest he would have sworn it had stopped beating altogether.

”Harry, early this morning your mother... She passed away. I'm so sorry, I...”

But Harry did not hear anything beyond that as the professors' words hit him like steel hammers, knocking the air right out of him. There was no way to accurately describe what Harry felt as a black bottomless hole opened up inside of him, swallowing him from the inside.

”No,” escaped his lips although Harry made no conscious decision to say it.

”I can only imagine what you must feel, Harry. We here for you. And... It's only natural if..” As McGonagall struggled to find the words, Harry abruptly rose and bolted for the door. ”Your lying! She's not... She's not..!” But when he opened the door he ran straight into professor Lupin who had been waiting outside. Harry did not think. He could only feel and the moment after the collision he wrapped his arms around the professor, sobbing into his scruffy suit. He did not even take any notice of Lupin crouching down and holding him as he shock with sorrow or professor McGonagall awkwardly placing a hand on his shoulder. ”I want to go home,” where the only recognizable words Harry spoke.

It was professor McGonagall who eventually took him. Harry let her. It his fault. If only he had never flown through that window they would never have found out and if they had never known that would never have reached Aoife and his mother wouldn't be... The moment they stepped out of the floo-connected fireplace in the parlor of Prince Manor, he would have faceplanted if it was not for McGonagall holding him up as he was barely making any effort to stand upright as it was. The professor did not move and for the first time since hearing the news, Harry glanced up at her.

His Head of House was looking around the room, her expression hard and her eyes sorrowful. Harry realized that of course McGonagall had no idea where to go from here as she had never – at least to Harry's knowledge, been there before. It was so terribly odd to be there now. It felt like Harry was in a dream, a very very awful dream. Everything in the room was in its place as if the entirety of Harry's world had not just imploded. Suddenly a woman entered the room. Lizette's eyes were red and her cheeks still wet. She glared at the two of them as if they had disturbed her before she sank into a nearby chair. The hurt Harry felt at the sight of a woman who got to spend not only more time with his mother than he arguably did but also had been there in her final hours got him moving and he ran out the room with the professor in short pursuit.

There was only one thing on his mind: Lily – He had to see his mother! And there was only one place he could imagine her to be. He reached the first floor and went straight to the door of the Summer Room which was slightly ajar as usual – as if nothing was out of the ordinary. Indeed, Harry halfway expected to see Lily look up from her drawings and send him a surprised smile when he entered. He paused. There she was.

She was lying on her bed, dressed in her nightgown as if asleep. The curtains were partly closed, leaving her face in shadow although Harry could easily see how terribly skinny and pale she was. He stared at her, not making a sound nor noticing the two other people in the room. On a chair by Lily's side sat a man wrapped in black, holding her hand but he seemed to be so still and so much part of the darkness he was not noteworthy. As Professor McGonagall reached the first floor somewhere behind him a hand lightly touched Harry's shoulder.

”Go to her, my boy. It's alright,” said the Headmaster gently and guided Harry towards the still form of his mother. Harry slowly reached out and his fingertips graced her leg. He instantly withdrew them. She was so cold. Like a block of ice. Harry shook his head and stared at her briefly he fell across her, grabbing her arms and trying to pull her up. ”Mum? Mum! Wake up! Please wake up! Mum? Don't do this! It's not funny. Mum!” But then there was movement next to him and the silent shadow-man grabbed his hands from behind pulling him off Lily's body. She fell back onto the bed limp and unresponsive. Harry sobbed and struggled against Snape as the man pulled him against his chest, trapping Harry there with his arms. Shortly Harry ceased his kicking and scratching and just hung there holding on to the person who was supporting him – not caring who that person was.

They stayed like this for a while – Harry was not keeping track of time. It was not until his sobs and cries had died down to quiet whimpering that he even noticed the silent adult holding him was shaking too. ”Severus, please. You must eat,” said Dumbledore behind them.

”I can't...” Snape whispered just above Harry, his voice raspy and faint. Harry twisted around in the 'embrace' he was in and pounded his fists into his stepfather's chest. Snape looked likes he had not slept for a week and smelled like it too but Harry took no notice of that. ”Why?!” he cried. ”Why didn't you tell me?” In truth Harry did not know whether he would have been happier knowing it was coming but the only thing inside him more horrible then his sorrow was the guilt of knowing he had been the cause of this. He needed to be angry and he needed someone to blame and Snape was nearer him than Aoife.

To his surprise Snape did not fight him back but simply let him hit him. ”Harry, come along, please. We'll find some tea,” said McGonagall who was clearly both emotional and confused by something. Harry did not stop until McGonagall pulled him away from Snape but not before the man all but whispered: ”I wanted... I tried.”

”Severus, my boy, you've been sitting there all night and I for one one would like a nice cup of tea and perhaps a scone. I quite insist on your company as our host. Please walk on your own I don't want to have to make you,” said the Headmaster gently. Snape sighed and slowly got up. Harry clung to McGonagall as they made their way to the Lizette-free dining room where Brin was already serving the tea. Harry resentfully noted that he looked very unaffected by the death of his mistress. The adults sat down by the table in silence – Snape hunched at the table end looking very much like a raven, his nose sticking out of his black curtain of hair. ”Harry, sit down. I'll take you back up again before we return to Hogwarts. Snape made some sort of sound but no one took any notice of it. ”I'm not going,” said Harry defiantly. ”I want to stay with mum.”

”Harry,” his Head of House sighed. ”I don't see any problem with him remaining,” Dumbledore added but McGonagall gave him a stern look. ”I will have to return to Hogwarts myself shortly,” Dumbledore continued. ”I've instructed Madam Prince to see that Severus eats.” Harry could not think of tea and scones at a time like this nor was he content to sit here quietly like Snape was so instead he backed away from the table. ”I... I'm going to go to my room a little,” he lied. McGonagall looked like she was about to object but the Headmaster waved him on his way before she could voice her thoughts. Of course Harry went straight for the Summer Room but to his frustration he found the door locked. How could they? It was his mother! He shook the doorknob several times before he gave up and went where he had pretended to be heading his – his room. Now, compared with the dorm at Hogwarts it looked so bare and sad but it matched Harry's feeling well. He slammed the door and buried his face in the pillow there.

He woke up at noon much to his own surprise. Exhausted, he had cried himself to sleep. He suddenly felt awfully cold, having slept in his clothes on top on the bed and sat up from the warm imprint of his sleeping form. On his old desk there was a small tray with a glass of milk and some sort of bun. ”Orla?” Harry whispered but no reply came from anywhere in the small room. He did not touch the bun but he did allow himself a few sips of milk before carefully opening the door and walking down the steps no longer caring about the creaking. Where were the adults? The house seemed very quiet as he reached the staircase. Where they still in the dining room? Had Dumbledore left? He slowly began to make his way down the stairs. He found he did not like the solitude one bit. He reached the first floor, noticing several flower bouquets in the entrance hall below and intended to walk down to the dining room and investigate when he suddenly heard a creak in the floorboards.

He spun around and froze. The door to the Summer Room was wide open and someone was standing there in the doorway. Cold black eyes, silvery hair in a tight bun and a long dark grey gown. In Madam Aoife's hand was a small blue velvet bag which Harry knew contained one of his mother's silver bracelets. The moment her eyes detected he had noticed it, it disappeared into a pocket. Harry knew he should be afraid and he probably was terrified - but the fury within the small boy as he stood face to face with her after such a long time was too powerful. ”Put that back!” he snapped. ”That's mum's! You can't have it!”

Aoife glared at him. ”It needs polishing so shut up, you stupid boy. Don't presume to give me orders.” She moved to get past him but Harry, filled with either nerve or stupidity, blocked her path. ”Give it here! You can't touch her things! You murderer!” he cried, not realizing what a terrible mistake he had just made until the moment Aoife pounced on him!

Harry scrambled to stay on his feet as he was knocked off balance by the force of the witch. He was mainly only held up enough to remain standing by Aoife's hands firmly grabbing him by the shirt. Harry gasped for air and stared into her bitterly frowning face as the bird-woman glared at him. He knew the feeling of despair and helplessness. He had been here before. But the mortal terror he felt was different now. While Aoife had always been cruel, the first time she had 'gone mad' Harry had been terrified that she might kill him. Now he knew she was capable of doing just that. After Lily what was he to her?

Desperately Harry tried to kick her and make her let go. But she was too tall and when looming over him he could not reach her! Was everyone in Snape's family tall and raven haired? This side at least seemed to be. He wanted to scream but her grip tightened his collar around his throat and all that emerged from him was hissing and gurgled sounds. And even more terrifying – Harry actually had no idea where the other adults were at this time! Would they even be able to hear him if he screamed for help? Were they still in the house? He bet Aoife knew. And speaking of her, Aoife did not even take notice of the attempted kicks, so futile were his efforts.

”I thought I told you not to cross me!” sneered Aoife and shook Harry once for good measure. ”And just so you know it, nothing here belongs to your mudblood mother. It belongs to the lady of Prince Manor and that is me, whether my dear grandnephew agrees or not. You have no right to be here – none of you!” Harry let her words wash over him like a biting wind, not able to disregard his imminent death long enough to truly listen to her. Aoife suddenly grabbed his chin with her left hand, forcing it upwards and clamping Harry's mouth shot as he was forced to look at her. Her fingers were holding him in an iron grip and the thought entered Harry's head that she might be trying to break his jaw by sheer force. ”The Boy Who Lived,” said Aoife, almost as an after thought. ”You know they say he was the strongest dark wizard who ever lived! It would be amusing, would it not, if Aoife Prince could do what the Dark Lord could not!” A smirk spread across her face. Harry gasped for air in response. He figured this was how an ant felt when you crushed it underfoot. Aoife's vanity might be appeased with such a feat as she described but Harry did not think Voldemort would stoop to strangulation when he had a wand. Speaking of which! His wand! Where was it?! Harry let go of Aoife's hands and began to search for his pockets and by extension – his wand.

It was not as if an 11-year old could really do much against a... witch older than Harry could probably count - but even so it was his best chance. His fingertips brushed it but Aoife had to consider him at least a bit of a threat because just as his hand finally grabbed it, she threw him onto the floor and pulled out her own wand. Harry blood ran cold and his eyes shut as he expected a glimpse of light before the darkness that was sure to follow. But it did not come. Instead he heard her high pitched laughter. ”Oh, look at that!” she laughed. ”The Saviour is afraid! Huh? Is the itty bitty Master scared?”

Harry's eyes snapped open. He could feel his heart beating painfully against his ribs. He opened his mouth but Aoife was too fast. ”Scream all you want, you little pest. See what happens,” she threatened ominously. What was he going to do? Harry's mind raced. Should he chance yelling for help or try to run? Yes, Aoife was no spring rabbit but she need not be with a wand. What would Hermione do? She always seemed to have the answer for everything! No, cunning. He had to be cunning, he thought – even if he knew in his heart he really had little chance of outsmarting an adult he had to try. And yet, there was that little voice in the back of his mind that whispered: ”Just let go. Maybe she'll make it quick and then you can see your mum again!” He could not listen today. He could not let her win. Surely she'd somehow make it seem like Snape did it or maybe Harry killed himself by accident. She was good at lies, Harry knew. And... A Gryffindor did not surrender!

Somehow he had to keep her talking. As long as she was taunting him, he reckoned, she was not cursing him. Then he'd try to figure out something smart to do to escape – if he could. ”How can it be yours?” Harry stalled. ”Snape bought it for her! She was married to him, not you!” Aoife looked as though she was simultaneously swallowing and looking at something utterly disgusting. ”As if I would ever marry beneath my status!” she countered. ”My brother was a fool. He let the plebeians in! How are the likes of you any better than his own sister?!” She was rambling now. Just as she had done that day in the gallery and recognising that look in her eyes, Harry realised that this tactic might have been a terrible mistake! He glanced to the stairs, it was now or never! Just as Aoife ended her little speech Harry scrambled to his feet and ran for the stairs.

A flash, like lightning appeared before his eyes just as his body went ridged and he fell over! He would have tumbled down the stairs too if he had not found himself pulled backwards by an invisible force. ”Oh, you think you can just waltz away as you please?” Aoife chided. Harry's glasses fell off his nose as he was dragged across the floor and he found he could do nothing but move his eyeballs and cry – and that was all he did. ”Well, I'm not done!” she said, punctuating her statement with a swift kick to Harry's thigh. ”Did you think you were just going to tiptoe down and tattle?” she asked, although Harry could not answer. ”You? You're an insult to our family's legacy! I could bear it! I could bear doing the bidding of my tasteless grandnephew and his diluted blood! I might even smile at the invalid until she'd keel over or he'd come to his senses! I am a Prince after all! I belong in these halls! But you! You aren't even a Prince! You and your whore of a mother soil the ground you thread on! Indeed if you liked her so much, why don't you join her?”

If Aoife seemed to have been talking herself into something she clearly had succeeded because then she raised her wand menacingly. Harry closed his eyes. This was it. He could not bear the fact that her face would be the last he ever saw. ”Let's have some fun!” she laughed. Harry waited for the familiar sound of magic in the air and he was not kept waiting. It was a strange feeling – being dead. It almost felt exactly like being alive and on the floor. Then in the next second he heard a familiar deep voice: ”You make one move!” growled Snape but clearly Aoife did not take the warning seriously because in the next moment there was another swishing sound followed by a loud thump. Confused, Harry opened his eyes to find Aoife's wand lying not far from his own head and Aoife blasted into the wall. Footsteps were heard as McGonagall finished the staircase and joined Snape, who stood there with his wand raised. He looked both furious and shocked all at once whereas McGonagall simply looked shocked. However, when she spotted Harry on the floor, she knelt down beside him with some difficulty to assist him while Snape glared at Aoife's immobilised body as if daring it to make a move.

As McGonagall lifted the spell trapping Harry, Aoife moaned in pain and Snape sent her knocking backwards into the wall a second time. ”Severus, don't!” snapped McGonagall. ”

”Stay out of it, Minerva!” replied Snape icily. ”You wouldn't understand.”

”Understand? I understand perfectly well, young man! And I'm telling you, I'm not letting you bounce that woman off the walls! She's not worth the trip to Azkaban!” cried McGonagall as she helped Harry to a seated position.

”Azkaban is too good for the likes of her,” Snape muttered darkly as he advanced upon Aoife's unconscious form. McGonagall brushed Harry's hair from his face. ”Are you hurt? Can you stand?” Harry could only nod. He had no words to describe the relief he felt and so all he said was: ”She stole mum's bracelet. I saw her!” It was a very insufficient explanation but McGonagall did not question it. Instead she helped Harry to stand and called for Lizette, who had only just arrived in the entrance hall to assists Harry to the dining room where she wordlessly tended to his bruises.

Harry felt as though his limbs were asleep – like he had been lying on the awkwardly. There was a prickly feeling all over his skin and he did not move unless indicated by Lizette to lift his arms or feet. The healer had reacted with both confusion and shock when McGonagall had come calling for her – she too had been making her way to the stairs and Harry had silently surmised that Aoife and him had made enough of a racket to get the attention of the other adults where it was they had gone. The only difference here was that Lizette had no idea what had happened as McGonagall had simply snapped instructions at her and left her with Harry whom she now questioned to no avail because the boy remained silent. Only now it felt like his body was waking up from the shock of it all like a long sleep. And it had been a long sleep, he realised. Because the tenseness leaving his body was not only the result of what had just transpired on the staircase but had been there for months now. Aoife was lying unconscious up there – very much at risk of being murdered by her displeased employer. The bogey man was dead.

He stared at a confused Lizette who had stopped speaking mid word and then took her hand much to her shock. Still she did not refuse him and Harry did not cry. He had no more tears to give Aoife. During the next hour the house filled with people and noise as aurors arrived along with other select people. They wanted to question Harry and set a very soft spoken woman with mousy hair and a cheap burgundy robe with a dated pearl brooch to the task. Mainly she asked whether Aoife had ever hurt him and Harry nodded. She asked whether Harry was scared of Aoife and Harry nodded again. Then she asked whether Snape had ever hurt him and Harry shrugged as though he did not really understand the question. He was asked by the auror behind her to elaborate but she defended Harry's right to be silent due to the trauma. She also insisted Harry not be present when they took Aoife away. Although Harry had no real objections to it he still would have liked to see her leave for himself. Meanwhile the large amount of bouquets in the entrance hall grew until they had a whole new flower garden – one which Harry was allowed in.

Dumbledore returned but he was not alone as he came into the dining room, where Harry, Lizette and the other two professors had taken refuge, followed by Lupin who had to visibly resist running straight to Harry. The Headmaster looked awfully serious and it really unnerved Harry, who had been struggling to get through a bun Lizette was insisting he'd eat. With a pop Orla appeared in the room with extra tea-things. Her large eyes were tearful and she shuffled over to the table. While Harry knew that the only person who had arguably suffered more under Aoife than him was Orla and she was bound to be glad to be rid of her too but not only was Orla devastated by the passing of her mistress, she know also had to lock her father in the scullery with the aid of Lizette as the old house elf had gone absolutely bonkers with rage at the news of Aoife's downfall and thrown pots and pans at everything and everyone near him. Mr Browne had paid a visit with a bunch of daisies and as he had left he had clearly gone about telling all of Athlea that the mistress of Prince Manor was dead because they came flooding to the gates to give their condolences, hand over hastily picked flowers, make snide remarks and whisper about their hopes that the death of the agreeable lady might cause her much less popular husband to move. Phil the gardener had to be fetched to keep them away from the front door.

”Oh, Harry,” said Lupin quietly as he finally settled next to the boy. However the sound of his voice roused Snape, who had been sitting there staring at his own knees with a blank expression for a while now. ”What are you doing here?” he snapped. Lupin did not really seem to be taken by surprise by this although he put a hand on Harry's shoulder – though Harry had no idea if that was meant to protect Harry or Lupin. ”Severus, please. There's no need for that,” said McGonagall. ”I don't want him in my house!” continued Snape with an energy that surprised Harry. ”Don't think I don't know what this it, Minerva! You and your little plots!” He pointed a thin accusing finger at the Head of Gryffindor.

”Come now, surely we need not shout before we finish the tea,” said Dumbledore as though the entire exchange humoured him. ”Perhaps, you're on their side then?” Snape replied. ”No one is on anyone's side here,” said Lupin. ”I'm here for Harry and for her. She was my friend. You of all people should know that, Severus!” Severus was just about to say something which Harry assumed would be particularly nasty when McGonagall snapped: ”Really? Severus? In front of Harry? That woman has not been our of your house 30 minutes and you are already...”

”What does it matter if he hears?” Snape cut her off. ”He'll hear enough at the hearing. But perhaps you're afraid he'll see through you?”

”What hearing?” Harry asked. ”Nothing, Harry. Just some legal business. Perhaps you'd better take a walk in the gardens?” Professor McGonagall asked. ”No, I want to know! What are you talking about?” Harry insisted. The tension between the adults was electric – except for Lizette who looked like a question mark and the Headmaster who continued to butter a bun as though nothing was amiss and his employees were not at each others throats. ”Harry, let's take a walk, shall we? You can show me around?” Lupin tried but it was clear from his expression that he did not really think he would convince Harry. ”Miss Sinclair, would be so kind as to take the boy out for a while?” said McGonagall and Lizette rose, clearly eager to get out of the room, pulling Harry along. ” No! Stop! I want to know! You can't...” But they could and with a wave of Lupin's wand the door closed and locked. ”Leave me alone! I'm not going with you!” Harry spat at Lizette. ”Suit yourself,” she huffed and marched upstairs. Harry pressed his ear against the door but he heard nothing at all. Not even muffled voices. He knew what that meant – a silencing spell and it made him furious. ”Hey! Psst! Orla!” he called and with a pop the small elf appeared. ”Master Harry called?” she said.

”Yeah, could you help me? I want to hear what they are saying,” Harry begged. ”Oh, but Orla must not help Master Harry do naughty things!” the small elf shrieked. ”The Master will punish Orla!” Harry did not give up. ”But he hasn't really ever, has he? That was all was Aoife! I swear it's fine, Orla! And actually Snape never told me to leave to I'm not disobeying him really!” The elf seemed hesitant but Harry's subsequent assurance he would take the fall for it did the trick and she moved her hand over the wall. ”Not very strong. Master Harry should be able to hear,” she said nervously. Harry pressed his ear against the wall and hear he could.

”I do not care for your excuses!” roared his stepfather so loudly in fact that Harry jumped. ”This is your doing! Did you not think I would know?”

”It's a hearing, Severus. Surely you had expected as much,” replied McGonagall coldly. ”You cannot go around treating children - your children like you have without consequences!”

”How I raise my stepson is entirely mine and Lily's business!” Snape retorted though he did not sound as confident. ”It was abuse!” spat McGonagall. ”It was discipline!” growled Snape. ”I admit I may well have been too harsh at times but only because I believed that...”

”No! You do not get to make excuses!” cried McGonagall and Harry shuddered as he realised he had never heard her so angry. ”And I suppose you think having him mauled is more responsible?” Snape sneered in reply. McGonagall seemed to have been shocked by that statement since she was not the next to speak. ”Severus, that was uncalled for,” said Lupin almost sadly. ”You know I would never hurt Harry.” But Snape was not convinced. ”I know no such things! And don't you dare sit there and claim you haven't tried to kill anyone before!” There was a certain spite to Snape's voice that made Harry certain Snape was referring to something very specific and not just hinting that Lupin generally went about murdering people left and right.

Harry was frozen to the spot, his eyes wide with surprise. ”How long have you been at this, hmm?” said Snape and it sounded like someone was pacing. ”How long have you two been sneaking around?” Harry gulped as he remembered how he had spotted Lupin in the school at night – long before he was introduced as a teacher. He had been meeting someone then – had that been McGonagall? ”I'll admit you're half a snake, Minerva! What a perfectly malicious plot! Worthy of the Malfoys I'd say!” There was some form of protest voice following that but they were speaking at the same time and Harry could not understand it but then McGonagall spoke again: "And you let that woman hurt him for presumably years right under your nose! Are you blind?!" There was a moments silence. ”Are you pleased with yourself, then?” Snape spat, presumably at McGonagall. ”A substitute teacher, indeed! Or aren't you happy until you've taken everything from me?! And once you have the boy in the basket too will you come for the house?” Snape was so furious it was impossible to tell whether he was serious or mocking them. ”Must I have nothing?”

At that Harry heart sank. No, that wasn't right. Could it be? No, it was not right! It was Aoife who was the murderer – only Harry had been too overwhelmed to discuss it yet. Was Snape really thinking McGonagall and Lupin did it? And why? Well, he could not let that happen he decided. He ran to the door. It was silenced but Harry knew from unpleasant experience that the spell did not mask his side. He alternately pounded and kicked the door and it did provoke a reaction as in the next moment the door flew up to fast it nearly knocked Harry over. ”Harry, are you all right?” exclaimed Lupin and made to get up but was intercepted by Snape who was standing and who pulled Harry to his feet. Snape was clearly too angry with the others to consider Harry's intrusion problematic. ”It's not true!” Harry cried at Snape the moment he caught his breath. ”They never hurt mum! It was her! She did it!” Everyone looked stunned – even the Headmaster who seemed to have been able to finish his bun – violent argument and all.

”Harry, what on earth are you talking about?” said McGonagall after a moments silence. No one really bothered to address how Harry had come to overhear. ”Mum! I'm saying you didn't kill her because... Because...” Harry choked on the words, the stares the adults were giving him, causing the familiar feeling of being misunderstood to rise. ”Harry...” it suddenly came from Dumbledore who had otherwise said nothing. ”Do you think someone hurt your mother?” Harry's eyes went wide. They didn't know? ”I... Yes. I mean... Weren't you just...?” But at the strange look the Headmaster was giving him Harry felt as though the old man already knew – like he read his thoughts and it just slipped out. ”A-Aoife did it,” he said looking around at the adults for any confirmation that they knew what he was talking about. McGonagall sent Dumbledore a strange look as if waiting for him to explain it to her. Silence reigned. Then felt a hand lightly touching his shoulder and looked up at Snape. ”L... - Your mother, she died of natural causes. Not old age but... natural none the less. Complications. I... Why would you think...?” Harry was terribly confused. ”But... She said it! And it's my... m-my fault. I k-knew she was going to if I t-told...” Lupin rose and crouched down to meet Harry's eyes. ”Told who what, Harry?” he gently prodded. ”Told you about what that woman did, you imbecile!” snapped Snape, finishing Harry's sentence for him. ”There you have it! You thought it was me, didn't you? You thought he wouldn't talk to you because I threatened him, didn't you?”

”Severus, really...” Said McGonagall and pointed at Harry. ”No, he stays! This is still my house and he is still my ward and I make the decisions here!” bellowed Snape. McGonagall ignored her furious host and Dumbledore now turned to Harry. ”It cannot be so, Harry. The healers were here. Everything that could be done for her was done. Your parents knew that...” But Harry cut him off by stepping away from Snape abruptly. ”You knew?” he all but whispered. Snape looked like someone had thrown a bucket of cold water in his face. ”Your mother she... She had gotten worse since the summer and,” Snape said slowly. ”But you knew!” Harry repeated. There was something in Snape's eyes. Pain? Sorrow? Harry didn't know. But he wanted it to be guilt. ”Harry, listen to me,” Snape said but Harry turned around hurried upstairs and into the parlour. Clearly someone said something in the dining room because he heard Snape say: ”Don't you dare! You'll stay where you are or leave my house!” At first Harry did think it was meant for him but he did not care either way. He could hear Snape's footsteps on the stair and in a weird fit of panic he actually considered flooing away. But he had nowhere he wanted to go and the pot of floopowder was out of his reach so instead he sunk into the sofa.

The door creaked open and Snape stepped inside without a word, closing the door behind him. Harry did not look up. Instead he just focused on his hands but then he felt Snape sit down beside him. They sat there for a moment, neither of them looking at the other. When Harry finally did look up he was shocked by what he saw. In the brighter light of the parlour one could truly see how awful Snape looked. His eyes were shining – was he...? ”Your mother wanted your first time at Hogwarts to be a happy time,” Snape said, his voice raspy and low.

”It wasn't,” he pointed out, unable to think of anything better. ”I gather it was not,” Snape nodded slowly. ”She did not want you to worry about her. I would be lying if I said I agreed with her – but... How could I refuse her wish?” He was not really asking Harry, rather a small hint of fondness for the woman whose bidding he had strived to do surfaced as warmth in his voice as his eyes continued to shine dangerously. ”Okay...” Harry replied. He could not find it within himself to be truly mad at his mother for that and if he had to admit it to himself he did sort of understand her. But he missed her. He missed her awfully. And he was still mad at her and Snape and everyone and the universe for her dying, because without Aoife as a murderess he had nothing to blame but some medical complication he didn't even know the name of. Then he recalled something.

”Last night?” Harry said and looked at the man who nodded slowly in return. Oh, no! Lily had already been dying then! And Snape had been trying to tell him – but Lupin had interfered and Harry had screamed at Snape's face he never wanted to see him again. ”She was not very coherent but I thought you deserved the chance to speak to her. But I suppose I could not meddle with her wishes,” Snape said as though Lily's spirit had caused Harry to run away. Harry felt awful. Snape had been there, he realised. He had been to the manor when he was away from teaching and probably every night after his return to watch over Lily as she slowly slipped away. He watched her die, Harry realised. For such a long time. And then he felt a little grateful to his mother because he did not think he could have done it. ”I was here,” Snape said. ”The woman never came close.” Knowing he was referring to Aoife Harry suddenly felt so terribly dumb. ”She said she would hurt what I... What I loved,” Harry explained. ”Because of the picture. She said I cut her picture.” But Snape's eyes snapped up and it surprised Harry who in panic defended himself, scared he might just have admitted to a crime he did not commit. ”I didn't! I swear! I was just hiding! I never touched it!” Harry passionately pleaded. Snape sighed. ”I know,” he said. ”I did it.”

He had been permitted to remain at home until the funeral was over. Harry had wanted to – mainly because he felt closer to her being here. McGonagall had objected but Dumbledore had permitted it – even if it meant he would only be back a few weeks before Christmas holiday started. It was not a pleasant affair. The news had somehow reached the other students or at least Hermione, Ron and Neville because the three of them sent Harry letters which he could not bear to read and left on his desk – only Ron's opened. Early in the morning on the second day they came for Lily's body. Harry did not even know the magical world had someone in that profession, the name of which escaped him, but come they did and they looked grim indeed in long black robes and strange birdlike masks that reminded Harry of some he had seen in a history book – only these were lighter and ornate. On the third day he walked down to find Snape sitting in the Summer Room, holding one of Lily's dresses and staring into blank space. On the fifth day Harry joined him.

They hardly spoke. Lupin sent letters too – one day he actually tried to visit ending in disaster. Harry heard more of it than he cared to. After a few days – just as they had when Lily was once in the hospital, the flowers for her stopped coming. The funeral itself was an odd affair. Held in the church in Althea. Lily's white coffin in the middle. Albus Dumbledore speaking more than the grim Ministry worker actually doing the ceremony. The front 5 pews filled with people – a few of which Harry knew and others he had never seen before in his life. His friends from Hogwarts who were given special permission to come. And in the back of the church a small group of people most of whom had black eyes and black hair and whom Snape made a point to glare at whenever he got the chance. The only clue Harry had was that they were 'fools thinking they could show their faces here now'. While this group remained stoic and solemn, Harry doubted they knew Lily very well.

The day after the funeral Harry was sitting in his favourite tree – the old crooked one in the garden that Harry suspected was older than Snape or maybe even Dumbledore and Dumbledore had to be at least a thousand. Dangling from his hand was the little blue velvet bag with the bracelet Aoife had tried to steal. Harry had wanted it close and Snape never noticed that he took it. Speaking of Snape, that was who Harry was watching. He could see the rose garden from here. The one that was beneath the windows on the Summer Room. He was kneeling in the middle where the paths through the garden met as he had been most of the day. There in front of him was the newest addition to the garden – a large and beautifully ornate white marble headstone. There had been some talk of Lily going to wherever Harry's dad was buried and some other talk about burying her in the Prince family section of the Althea cemetery but Snape would not hear of it and so he planted her in the rose garden which he had kept for her. She was a flower after all.

”Harry, are you ready?” said a familiar voice beneath the tree. Harry did not bother to look at Lupin. He was making a point. ”No,” he replied shortly. ”Your friends are waiting for you,” Lupin said a little more insistently. Harry sighed. ”Can I ask you something?” he said. ”Of course,” Lupin nodded. ”That hearing. Does it mean I can't come back here anymore?” He did not even know what answer he preferred. He just wanted one. Lupin took his time to reply. ”No,” he said. ”You can always come back here to visit if you like and if professor Snape is not too busy. But we hope to find you a new place,” Lupin explained. Harry did not know what he expected to feel but he felt nothing at all, just empty. ”With you?” he asked. Lupin did not reply straight away. ”Isn't that what Snape meant? Is he right? Did she ask you to come for me?” He looked down at Lupin for the first time during the conversation. ”Yes,” the professor admitted. ”So I have to live with you then?” Harry pressed. ”No, I'm afraid it is a bit more complicated.” He felt betrayed. By everyone. Everyone kept things from him – his mother, Snape, Lupin and McGonagall. He would not be surprised if he returned to Hogwarts and Ron admitted he was actually a sack of turnips all along.

”So what was your job then?” Lupin placed a hand on the tree trunk. ”I wanted to meet you. And professor McGonagall thought you needed someone else to talk to about... everything. I... Professor Quirrell will be back after Christmas so I will no longer be needed but... We can still talk, Harry. If you want to,” Lupin suggested. Harry just shrugged. ”It's time to come down now. We need to get you back to school before dinner.”

Harry glanced at the dark man kneeling in the pattern of bare rose beds. ”Can I say goodbye first?” He asked. A strange feeling overwhelmed him and he found himself reluctant to leave the only person he knew understood what he felt. The only person who had loved her as much as he did. Even if it were only for a few days until Snape too had to come back. ”If you like. I'll be waiting over here then,” said Lupin. Harry adeptly swung down from the tree and walked into the rose garden.

Here lies Lily Snape (née Evans)
Born January 30th 1960 in Cokeworth, England
Died December 1st 1991 in Althea, Ireland

Beloved mother, wife and friend.
For whom we do these roses tend.

”Hey,” said Harry awkwardly. Snape did not look away from the headstone. A wreath of lilies lay in front of it, the only blooms in the garden at this time of year. ”He's here, I presume,” said Snape. Harry sat down next to his stepfather. ”I want to stay with her,” he admitted. ”So do I,” replied Snape. Harry reached out and touched one of the lilies lightly. ”I'm scared,” he said. ”They say they want to have me taken away and I don't know where.” Snape did not reply to that, he simply sighed. ”I'm sorry,” Harry said although he had no idea what he was really apologising for other than mentioning it. ”So am I,” replied Snape but Harry did not know what he was apologising for and to whom. There was urge, a unfulfilled longing or a question unasked. Something on the tip of Harry's tongue but he could not put a finger on it – even in his mind. He sniffed and rose slowly as Lupin began waving him over from a distance. Harry glanced up at the dark facade of Prince Manor and noted that it felt less like The Bleak House. Like a great weight had been lifted but left scars as it went. He looked back down at Snape, frustrated the man had not said whatever it was Harry wanted him to say regarding McGonagall's attempts to remove him permanently. ”At least you still have the house and all that,” he said as he turned to leave. He didn't have a mother or a father. And soon he would not even have a home. As Harry began walking to Lupin he heard Snape speak although he had no idea if he was speaking to him or Lily, someone else entirely or even what it meant. ”It is nothing without you.”