Harry told Hermione and Neville about Professor Snape's bloody leg when he talked to Harry after the incident with the troll. They all wondered how he could have hurt it. Neville thought he remembered Professor Flitwick saying Professor Snape was checking things on the third-floor corridor, the one they were told during the Welcoming Feast it was strictly off limits; unless you wanted to die a painful death.

Harry’s first Quidditch match was memorable for several reasons, one being that instead of catching the snitch, he nearly swallowed it. More importantly, somebody hexed Harry’s broom. It tried to buck him off. Harry spent a moment hanging for dear life before he was able to remount it. That’s when Hermione started to worry. She explained to Harry about how jinxes worked, how you have to keep eye contact and Snape wasn't blinking.

Harry refused to believe the Potions Master was cursing his broom. If Professor Snape wanted to hurt him wouldn't he have done it already? He's been alone with him enough with all those detentions.

Still, Hermione wasn't so sure. When you put it together with his anger of Hagrid telling Snape and Harry about collecting something from the high-security vaults the same day. She wasn't so sure the professor was trying to protect was there, but to steal it. 

The trio's investigation into what the professor may or may not have been doing on the third floor was put on pause with the holiday's arrival. Harry was the first to sign up to stay at the castle over the holidays when Professor McGonagall came around with the sheet. Hermione was going to spend the break with her parents skiing. Neville was going home to his gran. A lot of his other family came to visit during the holidays including his Great Uncle Algie, the one who once dropped him out a window trying to get Neville to display his magic.

Harry wasn't alone in the Tower, however. The Weasleys stayed for the break as well. Their parents and younger sister, Ginny, went to Romania to visit the second oldest, Charlie, who was studying dragons at a preserve.

The holiday break started wonderfully. A fresh layer of snow covered the grounds. Fred and George enchanted a couple of snowballs to bounce against Professor Quirrell's turban. The days were spent in front of the fire in the nice comfortable armchairs there was no competition getting.

Harry ran into Hagrid one afternoon when he needed a break from everyone. Harry had first gone up to the owlery, but Hedwig was asleep. He then went on a walk of the grounds. Hagrid found him near the edge of the lake.

Harry followed Hagrid back to his small wooden house on the edge of the Forbidden Forest. It was an octagonal shaped building with a thatch roof. A large bed took up a majority of the space. Hagrid boiled water for tea in the biggest copper kettle Harry had ever seen. Hagrid's boarhound, Fang placed his head on Harry's knee, drooling on his robes.

"How's yer year going, Harry?" Hagrid asked putting a bucket sized cup of tea in front of the boy.

"It’s okay," Harry replied taking a sip of tea.

Hagrid pushed forward a plate of rock cakes. Harry looked at them suspiciously but took one to be polite. When he took a bite his suspensions were confirmed, the cake nearly broke his teeth. Harry set aside, trying not to massage his sore jaw.

"Yer not havin' any trouble with yer classes? With Quidditch an' all?"

Harry shook his head. "No, Hermione helps me when I'm having trouble. She makes sure I get everything done on time, reminding me what's due and things." Luckily his sore jaw didn't affect his speech too much.

"No, yeh'd have no problems with the material. Not with Lily and James as yer mum and dad. They were some of the most talented witch and wizard of their age." Hagrid said chuckling. His warm beetle black eyes sparkled with fond remembrance.

"Really?" Harry asked. He knew so little about his parents. He loved when people told him things he didn't know about them, which was pretty much everything. Except when Professor Snape talked about his dad. He never had nice things to say about him.

"O' course, Head Boy and Girl in their year," Hagrid confirmed. "Yer a lot like yer dad, Harry. Yeh look jus' like 'im, except fer the eyes. Yeh got yeh mum's eyes. Yeh, dad was a great flyer. He played quidditch fer Gryffindor too. Got inta a fair bit of trouble when he was in school. He never met a greater rule breaker, well, maybe Fred an' George Weasley. "

"Hagrid," Harry asked. "Do you know why Professor Snape's leg was bleeding on Halloween?"

"That was jus' Fluffy," Hagrid told him.

"Who's Fluffy?" Harry asked confused.

"Me dog. I leant 'im ter Dumbledore door ter do a bit o' guardin'. He don' like people botherin' him. There's been more than just me checkin' in on 'im. They don't know how to calm 'im he'll bite. Bleedin’ fools ferget the music...Ferget I said tha. Ferget I said tha’."

"Guarding what?" Harry asked innocently.

"That's none of yeh business. What that dog is guardin' is between Professor Dumbledore and Nicolas Flamel." Then drawn on what he had said. "I shouldn'ta said tha’ I shouldn'ta said tha’," Hagrid grumbled to himself. "Yeh ferget I mentioned that name, Harry. It's not fer students teh know. Nothin' yeh need teh worry about."

"Okay," Harry said completely insincere.

He spent another hour or so with Hagrid. The giant told him stories about his own time at Hogwarts. It was then Harry learned his friend was expelled during his third year but refused to tell Harry why.

Hagrid also told him a few stories about his parents while at school. This included an amusing one about his dad getting Peeves to help him lock all of Slytherin House out of their dorm for half the night. He didn't even get detention for it, the Head of House was so impressed with the magic.

After Harry said his farewells for the evening he headed straight for the library. He could have sworn he'd seen that name somewhere. He really wished Hermione was back. She was so much better at this sort of thing.

Harry spent the next several days looking through all sorts of books with no success. Frustrated he shoved a book across the table. Madam Pince gave him a dirty look. It was then a thought occurred to Harry. Maybe he was looking in the wrong place, maybe the book he was looking for was in the Restricted Section. How could he get in there? No teacher would give him a note. He'd have to explain what and why he needed it before they could tell him no.

Harry was not looking forward to Christmas morning like his fellow Gryffindors. He fully expected the Dursleys would not send him any sort of present, so there was no sort of anticipation.

"I've got presents," Harry observed out loud to himself on Christmas morning.

"Of course," Ron said as he ripped open one of his packages. "Looks like you got one from my mum even."

Harry looked confused until Ron pointed at a bulky package wrapped in brown paper.

"She's made you a Weasley sweater," Ron explained. "She makes all of us one every Christmas." He found his own package. He pulled back the paper, with a groan. "I hate maroon."

Harry pulled forward his package. Removing the paper he discovered an emerald green sweater with a golden snitch on the chest.

"I didn't expect to get anything," Harry said dumbfounded.

The door burst open a moment later. Fred and George wore blue sweaters that each bore their first initial.

"Ahhhh, young Harry I see Mum sent you a Weasley sweater," Fred observed.

Harry nodded, "She didn't have to," the boy protested.

"We told Mum you didn't think you would get any presents and here you go," George explained. "Come and put it on, they're nice lovely and warm. You too Ron, we're all wearing them."

"I hate maroon," Ron whined.

Harry pulled on the sweater over his pajamas. George was right, they were very nice and warm. Percy came in a few minutes later, the twins forced him into his own sweater, much to his annoyance.

Harry went back to opening his gifts. Along with the sweater, Mrs. Weasley included a box of homemade fudge. It was really good. Hermione gave him a large box of Bertie Bot's Every Flavor Beans. Neville got him a box of Chocolate Frogs, a treat he introduced Harry and Hermione to on the train to Hogwarts. He also explained about people collecting the cards that came with them. Harry had almost a dozen now, including his first, Albus Dumbledore. Hagrid gave Harry a flute he must have carved himself.

Under all of these Harry located the Dursleys' present, a fifty pence piece, and a tissue. That was the worst gift they had given him. It was even worse than the old pair of Uncle Vernon's socks he got a couple years before.

Fred and George dragged everybody downstairs not long after for breakfast. This was followed by a many hour-long snowball fight, then Ron trying to teach Harry to play wizard's chest back in the Gryffindor Common Room.

The game was exactly the same as the Muggle version since except the pieces were alive. They would move their new spot on their own. When another piece was captured the capture would violently remove them from their spot. Harry wasn't very good yet. It didn't help that the set he was using, borrowed from Seamus didn't trust him and kept yelling advice at him.

Harry got a new set of chessmen in a Christmas cracker he pulled with George. He broke them in by losing spectacularly to Ron with the aide of Percy. All in all, it had been Harry's best Christmas ever. It wasn't until he was climbing into bed he realized he missed a present that morning. Harry was going to ask Ron if it was there this morning, but the other boy across the room was already snoring.

It was wrapped in a plain paper, but there was no card. Harry opened not curiously. Inside was a shimmery piece of fabric. Harry ran a hand over the soft material. It was cool to the touch, his fingers found a small card tucked inside. In a slanting, delegate hand, the giver wrote,"Your father left this in my possession not long before he died. It's time it was returned to you. Use it well. A very merry Christmas to you."

Harry stared at the card. He read it through two more times. Was something of his father's, really? What could it be? What did they mean, use it well? He set the card down and took the fabric from its package.

There was a lot of it. It was a cloak! But what did they mean, use it well? Harry stood and pulled it on over his shoulders. He looked down to see how much it covered...his body was gone! The cloak made him invisible!

Use it well? That must be why they would say something like that. What could he do with this? The Restricted Section, of course, maybe he could find a book about Flamel in there. No one would know he went in there if they couldn't see him.

Harry made sure to stay quiet so not to wake up Ron. He grabbed a lantern and headed for the library. He crept as quietly as possible. He ran across Mrs. Norris, Mr. Flitch's nasty cat about halfway there. He was tempted to kick her just this once. She watched Harry as if she could still see him, that could it be possible.  Could it?

Harry crossed into the Restricted Section nervously. He held up the lantern closer trying to read the titles on the spines, but he didn't know exactly what he was looking for. He grabbed a very old looking book and it flopped open. It let out a blood curling scream. Harry slammed it shut, but dropped his lantern panicked.

"Who's there?"

It was Flitch, the foul-tempered custodian. Harry back out of the library as quietly as possible. He took off at a run only to nearly crash into Professor Snape. Harry froze.

"Professor," Flitch wheezed coming up behind Harry. "I found this in the Restricted Section just now. It's still warm. Means a student's out of bed."

Harry held his breath hoping they couldn't sense his presence. The two adults stayed for a moment before taking off back toward the library. Harry headed the opposite direction. He got lost wandering the dark corridors. He stumbled into an abandoned classroom.

In the center of it stood an ornate mirror. It was about six feet tall with strange writing across the top. Harry dropped his Invisibility Cloak and stood in front of it and gazed at his reflection that was not alone.

In the mirror Harry stood with a tall man, whose glasses were cockeyed, his hair messy and sticking up in random places just like Harry's and a woman she had long red hair, a friendly face, and eyes just like Harry's.

"Mum?" Harry asked.

She nodded.

"Dad?"

The man nodded. Harry looked behind him, no he was alone, but his parents were with him somehow. They were joined by many others. Harry could tell by their shared features they too were his family.

Harry stayed there for many hours.

The next night, Harry stayed up waiting for his roommate for fall asleep.   He had briefly considered bringing Ron with him, but it was so special he wanted to back alone once more.  He could spend that little bit of time with the parents he never knew.  He didn’t exactly how to find the room.  He went around a dark corner and crashed into something.

“Reveal yourself,” Professor Snape commanded. 

Harry didn’t move, maybe he could just back up and he could get away. 

Snape drew his wand, “Now.”

“It’s only me,” Harry said pulling back the hood to show his disembodied head.

“Potter,” Snape hissed.  “What are you doing out of bed?”

“I was going to see my parents,” Harry said honestly.

“What are you on about, Potter?”

“Come with me, you can see them too.  I’m telling the truth, honest.” Harry said removing the rest of the cloak. 

It took them awhile to find the right classroom.  The corridors looked different by the light of the professor’s wand and Harry not desperately running away, trying not to be caught by the staff.  It was Professor Snape that opened the right door some quarter of an hour after their collision.  There it was, the tall mirror standing alone in the center of the room.

Harry approached it, “Look here. There’s my mum,” pointing to the left, pointing to the right, “and my dad.”

“I do not see them,” Snape said looking at the mirror.  He slowly walked around it.

“You wouldn’t from there,” Harry said with a roll of his eyes.

“That’s enough of your check, Potter.  I am still a professor and can still take points.”

“Yes sir,” Harry said standing up a little bit straighter. 

Snape came to stand next to the boy

“See, there they are,” Harry said pointing again.

“I still see nothing,” Snape said after a moment.

“Stand here,” Harry encouraged. 

They were only a few inches from the glass, the boy moved aside so his teacher could stand directly in front of the looking glass. The man moved into the now open space.

“Lily,” Snape breathed falling to his knees, as he ran a hand over the glass. 

Harry stepped awkwardly back from his distraught professor.  Harry didn’t know what to say.  He had no idea what the man was seeing. Other than Harry’s mother, apparently. He waited until the man seemed to have collected himself.

“Sir, are you okay?” Harry asked anxiously.

Snape stood up once more, “I am fine.”  He straightened his robe, “It is late.  You must return to your dormitory.  I will escort you.”

“Yes sir,” Harry said not brave enough to argue.The two walked back in a heavy silence, stopping in front of the portrait of The Fat Lady.

The two walked back in a heavy silence, stopping in front of the portrait of The Fat Lady.

"Potter,” the professor said, waiting for the boy’s full attention.  “Hope I never catch you out of bed again.”

Harry didn’t want to disappoint Professor Snape, but, he really wanted to see his parents again.  He couldn’t explain this desire to anyone.  It was all looked forward to these last two nights.  Harry made it to the room again for the third night in a row, alone once more.  Or he thought he was alone until someone cleared their throat. Harry spun around terrified. It was the headmaster.

"Sir," Harry said nervously.

"Good evening, Harry." Professor Dumbledore greeted. "I see you've discovered like many before you the delights the Mirror of Erised."

Harry nodded.

"Do you know what this mirror shows us, Harry?"

"It's not our pasts," Harry guessed.

"No," Dumbledore agreed. "Let me help you. If the happiest man on Earth were to stand in front of this mirror they could use it like any other."

"So it shows you something you want?" Harry asked.

"It shows us nothing more than our deepest most heartfelt desire," the headmaster elaborated. "But it gives us neither knowledge nor truth. Harry, the mirror will be moved to a new home tomorrow. I must ask you not to go looking for it."

"Yes sir," Harry acknowledged.

The headmaster was at the door when Harry blurted, "Can I ask you a question... Sir?"

"You already have, but continue," the old man said smiling.

"What do you see when you look in the mirror?"

"I see myself holding a pair of nice woolen socks. Another Christmas has passed and not a single pair. Everyone insists upon buying me books." The man chuckled lightly. "Come now, it's late. Back to bed, my dear boy."

Harry gave one last look to the mirror, "Okay."

When Hermione and Neville returned a few days later Harry told them about trying to find the book about Flamel and stumbling on the mirror.

"Harry, you shouldn't have done that. You could have gotten in so much trouble," Hermione chastised.

"It's fine, Hermione." Harry dismissed.

"But Dumbledore..." Neville protested. 

With both of his friends were surprised that the headmaster hadn’t punished for his nighttime wanderings, he was very glad he hadn’t mentioned taking Professor Snape to see the mirror with him.  Neither of them trusted the Potions Master the way Harry did.  They only saw the man that took points from Harry for no reason.  They never heard the man trying to get Harry think through his actions, or use the proper word for things.  Harry knew the extra detentions were the man’s way of trying to teach Harry the lessons he thought he needed to make those changes.  Still, he could see why others would think he was being unfair.    

Harry was two minutes late for his first Potions’ lessons back from the holidays because Wood stopped him in the hall to talk over strategy for the upcoming match.

"Detention Potter," Professor Snape snapped not bothering to turn around.

Harry flung his bag down moodily. How was that fair? He was two minutes late. Hermione gave him a knowing look. It wasn't until class ended that it made sense to Harry.

“For your nighttime explorations,” Snape explained once it was only Harry and himself in the room.

“But that was Christmas,” Harry began to protest, but a raised an eyebrow stopped him in his tracks. "Yes, sir."

"Tonight at seven, Potter." Professor Snape told him.

Harry's surprise was evident.

"We can't deny Gryffindor their Seeker in tomorrow's match, can we? You need all the help you can get defeating Slytherin. It's no fun rubbing Professor McGonagall's face in her house’s ineptitude if there is no real competition." Professor Snape explained.

Harry found Wood at dinner to tell him about it.

"You can't give him a chance to punish you like that, Harry." Wood brusquely. "We need you to be there if we have a chance of winning the Cup."

"Sorry Oliver," Harry apologized.

"Just do your best not do it in the future," Oliver pleaded.

"Mr. Potter, a word," Professor McGonagall said joining the boys.

Harry followed the Deputy Headmistress out of the Great Hall and into the corridor. Harry shifted nervously.

"Professor Snape informed me at dinner you have detention with him again," she elaborated.

“Err... Yes, ma'am. I was a couple of minutes late for Potions." Harry confirmed.

"Mr. Potter," Professor McGonagall sighed. "At this rate, you'll spend more time in detention than your father."

"Sorry," Harry apologized.

"Make sure you don't get into any more trouble tonight, Potter." Professor McGonagall said dismissed him.

Harry rushed down to the dungeons to make sure he wasn't late. He couldn't get in more trouble, not when both Oliver and his Head of House were upset with him about it. He didn't want to lose his place on the team.

As far as things could go, the detention wasn't too bad. Instead of the normal preparation of ingredients or scrubbing cauldrons, Harry spent two hours copying out all the rules he broke when sneaking into the Restricted Section, (Harry didn’t confess to doing this, but was smart enough not argue the point) and for being out after curfew.

"Perhaps that way they might sink in," Professor Snape grumbled as he set Harry to his task.

Wood got the whole team up early the next morning to go over tactics and things they didn't cover during the practice the night before since Harry was missing. The team glared at Harry as Wood rambled on about Hufflepuff's defense style. They broke to get breakfast, Wood encouraged his team to eat, while not doing so himself.

They headed down to the pitch as the first students made their way into the Great Hall. Wood was just starting to discuss Hufflepuff's Seeker when there was a knock on the changing room door.

Harry could hear it was Professor McGonagall, but couldn't make out what she was saying. Oliver returned a moment, a deep frown on his face.

"What's wrong?" Angelina Johnson asked.

"There's been a change. Professor Snape is going to referee the match." Oliver informed his team.

"Snape!" George demanded.

"Since when does Snape referee Quidditch!" Fred added.

"There's no way he'll be fair," Katie Bell pointed out.

"I know. I know," Oliver agreed, "but there is nothing we can do about it. Harry, we need you to catch that snitch as quickly as possible. Don't give Snape too much time to favor the Hufflepuffs."

Harry nodded.

"Come on," Oliver urged his team out onto the field.

The air was crisp a few clouds in the sky. It was perfect Quidditch weather. Oliver and the Hufflepuff team captain shook hands. The teams mounted their brooms, Professor Snape blew the whistle and they were off.

Harry cast his eye around for the tiny gold ball. He heard the professor call a foul for Hufflepuff when Fred sent a Bludger at his head. Harry flew higher in his search. Another foul was called on Katie for no reason at all.

Then he saw it. Harry went into a steep dive, flying right past the professor to catch the snitch. The game ended, Gryffindor 150 to Hufflepuff 30. It was the shortest match in anybody's memory.

The victory put Gryffindor in the lead for the Quidditch Cup for the first time since Charlie Weasley graduated. The party in Gryffindor Tower lasted into early hours of the morning. It only ended when Professor McGonagall came in and ordered everyone to bed.

Harry found something unexpected when he was getting ready for bed. On his pillow was a small piece of parchment folded in half. Harry couldn't help but smile as he read it. written in a familiar spidery scrawl,

    "Good job, Potter. SS"