“Luna, I-I have to go,” he said before racing from the Tower. He ran down the spiral staircase, his mind spinning as he attempted to guess what was going on. He didn’t know why he cared. It was only Mr. Malfoy. They barely knew each other and had only had one pleasant conversation which had only happened in Mr. Malfoy’s grief. Yet his heart was pounding painfully with the idea of Mr. Malfoy being hurt. He slid around the final corner to the Hospital Wing and found Snape just leaving the wing.

“Potter!” Snape said, grabbing the boy’s arm. “What is going on?”

“’Harry’,” he said off-handedly, “and I should be asking that. What’s happened? Is Mr. Malfoy okay?”

“Harry, calm down,” Snape said, releasing the child. “Lucius is fine. He is not the one in need of help.”

“Then what’s wrong?”

“It is Narcissa,” Snape said. “She has attempted to take her life.”

“Is she going to die?” Harry said quietly.

“I hope not, but I cannot say for sure,” Snape said. “She has taken an extremely deadly poison that has gotten into her blood stream. I must make the antidote.”

“Well, that’s good, right?” Harry said. “You know what it is and what antidote it is, so she’ll be okay.”

Snape sighed. “There is a very limited time in which to administer the antidote. I believe I can do it in time, but there can still be issues.”

“So, it could go either way?”

Snape nodded. “I must go.”

“Yeah, go. Save her.”

Snape squeezed Harry’s arm before sweeping away to the dungeons. Once gone, Harry turned back to the Hospital Wing and slowly pushed through one of the doors. He peeked around the door, spotting Mr. Malfoy standing next to a bed and quietly talking to Madam Pomfrey. He slipped in and walked over to the Malfoy patriarch, gazing down at Mrs. Malfoy. He felt a pang in his heart at the sight of her. She was pale and unconscious and, quite frankly, already looked dead. Both her eyes were a dark, dark blue as though she had been hit hard. Beneath the obscenely white skin were tiny black tendrils throughout her face.

“Mr. Potter, how kind of you to come,” Mr. Malfoy said.

“I thought it was you hurt at first,” Harry said. “Did you—“

“Find her?” Harry nodded. “I did.”

“I’m sorry,” Harry said. “It must’ve been terrible and so soon after…Draco.”

The man’s already drawn face fell further into sadness.

“Yes, it has been quite a difficult time,” Mr. Malfoy said. “On another note, I hear you and Professor Snape have made some progress.”

Harry unintentionally smiled a little. “He’s been really great.”

“I am glad to see the two of you getting along so well. You are good for each other. Believe me, he needs someone too.”

Harry looked at him. “Really?”

Mr. Malfoy nodded. “I won’t say too much as it is his story to tell, but he has had a very lonely life like you.”

What had happened in Professor Snape’s life? The man seemed to understand his situation so maybe Snape had gone through something similar. Maybe one day he would find out.

“I’d like to thank you for coming and for your concern, Mr. Potter,” Mr. Malfoy said. “It was unexpected but much appreciated.”

“Well, we may not have much between us but I still want you both to be alright. You’ve been kind to me, even since Draco,” Harry said. “I don’t have many people in my life, especially adults.”

Mr. Malfoy smiled at him and put a hand on Harry’s back. “You are quite a remarkable child and very strong considering your hardships this year. I am pleased to help you how I can.”

Harry blinked owlishly then quirked a tiny smile. How had he come to have more adults to care for him than he had ever hoped for? How had things changed so much and so fast?

“Potter!”

Harry turned his head to see Seamus Finnigan and a couple other Gryffindors leave their spots and come join him in his isolated place at the end of Gryffindor table.

“Can I help you, Seamus?” Harry said, slightly stand-offish. Seamus had been one of the first to turn on him for being a champion and was one of the most vocal about it. When he beat the dragon, Seamus suddenly changed his mind and supported him as a champion. However, he still heard Seamus agreeing with those that blamed him for Ron and Draco. Suffice to say Seamus wasn’t one of his favourite people.

“Hear the Malfoys are in the Hospital Wing,” Seamus said, sitting across from Harry. “It true?”

“What does it matter?” Harry said.

“It matters because we’ve also heard you’ve been paying them some visits,” Seamus said. “See, if that’s true then that would make you a traitor.”

Harry took a final bite of his breakfast and pushed his plate away, looking at the Irish boy. “I thought I already was one?”

“And we thought you were redeeming yourself,” Seamus snapped.

Harry glared at the other Gryffindor. “I have nothing to redeem myself for.” He suddenly heard Snape’s comforting voice in his head. “Nothing that’s happened has been my fault.”

Some part of him was finally starting to believe it, after all the times Snape had said it.

Seamus’ face twisted and he leaned threateningly across the table towards Harry. “It is all always your fault. All the danger and death follows you because the dark is after you. You have caused all of this and the time is coming that you face the consequences for those you’ve killed and not killed.”

Harry frowned. “Who am I not killing?”

“The Malfoys, who you’re clearly becoming pals with.”

“I’m not killing anyone.”

“You should, but get it right this time.

“I haven’t killed anyone.”

“We all beg to differ.”

With a snarl, Seamus and the others got up and left. Harry watched them go with his own hurt glare. He knew people still blamed him for Ron and Draco but he hadn’t realized the extent of it. To be getting threats from his own house. With a sigh, he ran a hand through his hair then left the Great Hall. Without realizing, he found himself heading outside. Luckily he had an old, thick Weasley sweater on to protect against the winter chill. He walked along the lake, stopping near the tree and gazing down at the ground. He crouched down and brushed away the light layer of snow covering the engraved stone. He ran his fingers over Ron’s name before standing back up.

He wasn’t sure he would ever fully believe that Ron was truly gone. He still found himself wanting to go to Ron and tell him everything before remembering it was impossible. He would never get over losing Ron. How did you get over the death of your best friend? There were so many things in life they should’ve experienced together. They were only fourteen. There were so many things that still had to come to pass. Fourteen was young.

He sighed and crossed his arms across his chest, almost defensively. He was glad he had Snape, though, someone who clearly understood.

“Mr. Potter, it seems we both had the same idea.”

Harry looked up at Mr. Malfoy who stopped beside him. The man gently used his foot to push the snow from his son’s stone beside Ron’s.

“Seems like,” Harry said, turning back to Ron’s stone.

“You know, I never wanted Draco to have the childhood and life I had,” Mr. Malfoy said. “I knew it was likely he would become more like a Malfoy than I wanted simply because of the circumstances he grew up under. His mother, however, went way beyond just spoiling him.”

“What kind of childhood did you have? What was so bad about it?” Harry said.

“I suppose anyone outside would scoff at the idea of there being anything wrong with my life,” Mr. Malfoy said and Harry gave a small shrug in agreement. “My father was not a nice man and not much of a father, quite frankly. I’ve worried I would make all the same mistakes and, in some cases, I have.”

“Like what?”

“In my effort to not be my father, I failed to effectively discipline Draco. He needed discipline, I know, but I was afraid I would lose control.”

Harry glanced at him. “I think I’d be the same if I ever have kids. Hard to know what to do when you’ve never had a good example.”

“Many of us are in the same frame of mind,” Mr. Malfoy said and Harry frowned, wondering who else the man was referring to. “In any case, I allowed Draco to take advantage of his advantages, and did nothing to stop it or his mother. His mother encouraged his behaviour.”

“If it helps, I think he was growing up and realizing his act wasn’t working,” Harry said.

Mr. Malfoy gave him a gentle look. “I think you had a lot to do with that.”

“Really?”

Mr. Malfoy nodded. “Your ability to stand up to his ridiculous behaviour continued to knock him down. He needed it.”

Harry gave a half-smile. “I don’t like bullies.”

Mr. Malfoy’s face crumbled slightly. “I can only imagine and I am so very sorry he was one.”

“Yeah,” Harry said quietly. “He’s probably driving Ron insane.”

Mr. Malfoy chuckled. “They could be fairly volatile.”

Harry grinned a little. “They loved going at each other. They might’ve made good friends if they’d had the chance.”

“I think you all could’ve been,” Mr. Malfoy said.

But we’ll never know, Harry thought sadly.

Harry sunk into his chair and sipped his tea. He leaned his head back and relaxed for the time being, ignoring the various texts he had on the coffee table. He had a ton of research to do…but it could wait. For now, he wanted to enjoy the comfort and solitude of Snape’s rooms.

“And how are we today?” Snape asked.

“Fine. Threatened by some Gryffindors, visited Ron, and chatted with Mr. Malfoy, all before lunch. A fairly productive day, if I do say so myself,” Harry said, aloof and not recognizing Snape’s alarmed expression.

“Threatened?”

“Just Seamus. He’s harmless, mostly due to incapability. I’ll be fine,” Harry said, shrugging. “I’ve got more important people to worry about.”

Snape frowned. “Such as?”

“I think Moody could potentially be a problem,” Harry said, noticing the man’s frown deepen. “I have nothing to prove anything; just my feelings whenever I’m around him.”

“Have you brought your concerns to anyone?” Snape said.

“You, right now,” Harry said and Snape shot him a disapproving glare. “Because I should be saying something every time I feel somewhat weird around someone?”

“No, only when you feel threatened or in danger. Has he done anything?”

“No, and that’s why I haven’t said anything. It’s just how I feel when I’m around him. He just makes me uncomfortable but he hasn’t done anything to me.”

“But you have seen him do something?”

“Not exactly. I just saw him with Karkaroff who is less than stellar himself in a storeroom. It just seemed odd.”

“He was with Karkaroff?” Harry nodded. “What were they doing?”

“I don’t know. It seemed like I caught the end of whatever it was,” Harry said with a shrug. “They had been looking at Karkaroff’s arm though.”

Harry frowned when he noticed Snape put a hand on his left forearm.

“It was probably nothing,” Snape said. Harry recognized the man’s voice had become somewhat shaky. Something about the situation was clearly bothering him. “Speaking of storerooms, have you taken any ingredients from mine?”

Harry’s eyebrows crinkled in confusion. “What? No, why would I?”

“I would have originally thought so you could attempt to make the potions you had tried to steal.”

Harry flushed and dropped his eyes. “I wouldn’t be able to brew them. I’m no good at brewing, remember? Besides, you said you would help and…I trust you.”

Snape blinked at the boy in surprise. He knew the child had difficulties trusting people, especially adults. A part of him was touched that he had managed to gain such a fragile gift.

“What was stolen?”

Harry’s voice interrupted his thoughts. “Pardon?”

“What ingredients were stolen?” the boy repeated. “The way you were talking, doesn’t seem like it was just ingredients for Pain Relievers.”

“No, it wasn’t,” Snape said. “The ingredients missing point towards Polyjuice Potion.”

“Polyjuice Potion! Why would I need that?” Harry said, instantly flashing back to second year.

Snape rolled his eyes. “I know it was you and your friends that stole the same ingredients two years ago.” Harry turned bright red. “I don’t want to know why you were brewing Polyjuice Potion at twelve years old.”

Harry gave a small grin and shrugged a shoulder. “So,” he moved on, “if someone’s stealing your ingredients then they’re obviously in the castle.”

“It would appear so.” Snape nodded.

“That means someone isn’t who they say they are,” Harry said in realization, his eyes growing wide. “Do you think whoever it is, is the one who entered me in the tournament?”

“It is very likely,” Snape said. “I don’t image there are many other reasons to use Polyjuice to get inside Hogwarts.”

Harry swallowed thickly and stared at the fire. Whoever this person was, he could be interacting with them on a daily basis and have no idea they were Polyjuiced. 

“Is it possible to tell if someone is under Polyjuice Potion?” Harry asked.

“There are…ways, but they rely on someone having a personal, intimate knowledge of either participant, either the real person or the Polyjuice persona. Differences in behaviour or mannerisms could be detected,” Snape explained. “Because the potion doesn’t change those kinds of things, right?”

“Right. Polyjuice is strictly physical changes. It cannot change one’s mentality or behaviour.”

“So, say someone had some kind of chronic body movement…”

“The potion would not change it. The body movement would still happen under the potion’s persona,” Snape said and looked at him curiously. “Do you have someone in particular in mind?”

“No, no,” Harry said quickly. “Just thinking.”

Snape hummed though it was clear he didn’t completely believe Harry. “If you did think of something, you would tell me?”

Harry smiled and nodded.

“He said he trusts me,” Severus said, handing a glass of wine to his friend.

“And that’s a bad thing?” Lucius said, confused.

“Not necessarily,” Severus said. “It is unexpected. He is not one that trusts adults.”

“So, what exactly is the problem?” Lucius said. “You should be elated that you have gained his trust. You care for each other. This is a good thing.”

“The problem is this.” Severus pulled back the sleeve on his left arm, revealing a faded but still clear Dark Mark. He scowled down at the tattoo that had slowly been regaining colour all year. What would Harry think when he found out?

“Why would it be an issue?” Lucius said. “He knows about me and he’s fine with it. He understands.”

“You didn’t kill his parents!” Severus snapped.

Lucius' face hardened. “We’ve been over this, Severus. You did not cause the Potters’ deaths.”

“I was involved,” Severus said.

“You did what you had to do to survive,” Lucius said. 

“And that excuses me leading them to their deaths?” Severus said. “Harry could have grown up with his parents.”

“No, he wouldn’t have,” Lucius said and Severus looked at him sharply.

“What are you talking about?”

Lucius sighed. “Whether Voldemort had known the prophecy or not, he still would’ve gone after the Potters and Longbottoms. They were powerful enemies that would have stood in his way. It all would’ve happened just as it did.”

Severus turned back to the fireplace. “I don’t think Harry will see it that way.”

“Maybe he will. Will you tell him?”

“I have to, or he’ll find out some other way.”

“How?”

“Voldemort is gaining power and he has followers inside this school,” Severus said. “It will come out from someone. I have to tell him before that happens and he has to know before I continue with my plan.”

Lucius frowned. “Who’s in the school?”

“Karkaroff, for one,” Severus said. “Who would have no qualms taking us down. There’s also whoever is under Polyjuice Potion.”

“You think whoever it is, is a follower?” Lucius said.

“Why else would they use Polyjuice?”

Lucius nodded in agreement.

“Whoever they are, they pose a danger to Harry,” Severus said.

“Think they’ll try something?”

Severus' expression turned thoughtful. “I don’t think so. I think they’re in the midst of their plan, something to do with Harry having to be in the Triwizard Tournament.”

“Hoping he’ll be killed?” Lucius said.

Severus shook his head. “I don’t think so but I don’t know what their goal is.”

“Hopefully we won’t find out,” Lucius said and Severus nodded.

Harry rubbed his forehead with a deep sigh as his scar burned. It seemed to be happening more often during the day lately and the nightmares were only continuing. Voldemort’s power was growing and so was their connection. At this point, he was almost positive that a piece of Voldemort’s soul had latched onto him and was in his scar. He wanted to ask Snape to help him make the potion that would confirm it. He wanted to know so he could find a way to remove it. Things could get really bad the longer he played host.

He sighed again, knocking on the office door but entering before receiving a response. He was automatically heading for his chair but stopped abruptly when he noticed Mr. Malfoy. 

“Oh, hello, sir,” Harry said to the blonde. “Sorry, is this not a good time?”

“No, no,” Snape said, shaking his head. “We were just chatting. Take a seat. Lucius, you will have to vacate Harry’s chair.”

Harry blushed. “No, it’s alright, really. I can sit somewhere else.”

Mr. Malfoy waved his hand and rose from the chair. “Not a problem, Mr. Potter. I would not wish to displace you from your favourite spot.”

Still slightly pink, Harry quirked a small smile and sank into his chair. He watched curiously out the corner of his eye as Mr. Malfoy whispered to Snape, the Potions master’s face hardening slightly. It wasn’t in anger, however, but as though he were steeling himself for something. The man’s eyes flickered to him and Harry felt himself tense in anticipation for what he felt was going to be an unpleasant conversation.

“I am off for the evening,” Mr. Malfoy said suddenly. “I will see you tomorrow, Severus. Have a good night, Mr. Potter.”

“You too, sir,” Harry said.

With a smile, Mr. Malfoy left the rooms through the door rather than the Floo.

Odd, he usually takes the Floo, Harry thought absently.

“How are you, Harry?” Snape said.

“Hm? Oh, I’m fine,” Harry said. “Actually, I wanted to ask you something.”

“What is it?”

“It’s a potion,” Harry said. “It’s a complicated potion and I’d never be able to brew it myself. I was hoping you could help me.”

“And what is this potion?”

“It identifies the presence of a foreign soul.”

A heavy silence fell as Snape digested the information. “A foreign soul?”

“That book I’ve been reading by Mulligan?” Snape nodded. “Not just light reading. Things have changed this year with my scar.”

“How so?”

“It started hurting over the summer, burning. It happens more often now. I’ve also had nightmares that I don’t think are just nightmares. My scar hurts a lot when I wake up from them.”

“Why do you think they are more than nightmares?”

“I’ve had at least one confirmed to have actually happened.”

Snape frowned.

Harry sighed. “I had this nightmare over the summer. I was in a house and there was a Muggle. He went up to this room and Pettigrew, another man, and Voldemort were there. Voldemort wasn’t human and he was talking to the one man, giving him a job. He was telling the man he wanted me. They ended up noticing the Muggle and Voldemort killed him. I mentioned this to Draco at one point and he said it actually happened, Pettigrew told his father about it.”

“A vision of sorts?” Snape said and Harry shrugged.

“Maybe. It’s something and it points to some connection between me and Voldemort. From everything that I’ve read, it’s more than likely I have a part of Voldemort’s soul in my scar. I think it happened when he tried to kill me as a baby.”

“Is that possible?”

“Apparently,” Harry said with another sigh. “I don’t know the entire process but I know it involves murder. Heavy stuff.”

“And this potion?”

“It will confirm the presence of any other soul or soul fragment besides my own. Will you help?”

“I will, but,” Snape said, taking a deep breath, “there is something I must tell you.”

Harry frowned and felt his stomach turn, feeling unsettled again. Whatever he was about to hear, it was serious. He tensed when Snape leaned forward towards him.

“I have made grave mistakes in my life but there is one I have regretted above all. I am a selfish man and I made selfish choices. I try but I know I will never be redeemed,” Snape said, his voices low.

Harry swallowed thickly.

“I knew your mother when we were children and when we came to Hogwarts. I made a mistake in our fifth year and it ended our friendship. We never spoke again. The loss combined with my already difficult childhood pushed me down a terrible path and to make a disastrous choice. To progress in my position and to survive, I made another decision that became a part of the reason your parents were killed.”

Harry’s stomach dropped and his expression began to harden. With what appeared to be guilt, remorse, and fear in his eyes, Snape pulled back the sleeve on his left arm. Harry felt his world spin out of control as his gaze found the darkening tattoo on the professor’s forearm.

The Dark Mark.

His eyes burned and filled as he raised them to Snape’s face. The man’s face was pained but Harry didn’t take notice. His ears were ringing and his head was pounding. He found himself shaking his head and getting unsteadily to his feet. He couldn’t believe it; it couldn’t be true. He could trust Snape; Snape was helping him and cared about him. He couldn’t be a Death Eater!

“Harry—“

“No,” Harry whispered, still shaking his head. “No.”

“Harry—“

Without speaking, Harry ran past the sofa and Snape, and out of the rooms. He raced out of the dungeons, heading up to Gryffindor Tower. He stumbled up the stairs in his effort to get away. His vision blurred as tears filled his eyes, a deep sob rising in his throat. He gasped as he crashed into a hard chest, almost falling backwards down the stairs before a scarred, gnarled hand grabbed his arm.

“P-Professor,” Harry said. “I-I’m sorry.”

“Somethin’ the matter, Potter?” Moody growled.

“Just got some-some bad news,” Harry said, trying to hold back his tears.

“Finally learned the truth about that snake Snape?” Moody said and Harry looked up at him with a frown. The man’s tongue was darting out and his face was twisting. Harry felt a jolt in his stomach and he tried to pull away. “All this time he’s had you in reach and he’s done nothin’. Our lord will be so disappointed but I will be able to do what all others have failed to.”

Harry felt a stab of fear and made a final attempt to escape, but he failed and found himself suddenly falling. He saw a flash of a maniacal grin on Moody’s face before there was a crack of pain in his skull, and everything went black.