“We've established that you like peanut butter sandwhiches,” Severus started uncertainly.

Harry shifted his position. “Uh-huh. Severus, I have one condition. I'll answer your questions if you answer mine.”

Severus raised his eyebrows, looking amused. “What questions, pray, do you have?”

Harry shrugged his shoulders. “I dunno. Do you like peanut butter sandwhiches? What's your favorite color? That kind of stuff, I guess.”

“All right,” Severus agreed slowly. He sat back in the chair, folding his hands, and looked at Harry. “Ask away.”

Harry squirmed under the covers, trying to get comfy. He decided to put his pillow against the backboard of the bed as a cushion for his back, and leaned against it. “Should Sirius be here while you question me?” Harry asked.

“No, Black can have his own time interrogating you,” Severus answered. “This shall be my time.”

“Okay,” Harry concurred. “Will I start?”

“Please do.”

Harry paused for a minute, trying to come up with a good question to ask. Finally, all he came up with was, “Do you like peanut butter sandwhiches?”

“No,” came the instant reply. “I do not care for peanut butter. It gets stuck to the roof of your mouth and the smell is unbearable.”

Harry laughed. “Okay, your turn.”

Severus regarded Harry thoughtfully. “What is your favorite color?”

“I don't really know,” said Harry slowly. Musingly. “I like blue… but… I honestly think green.”

“Green?” Severus repeated.

Harry nodded. “Green. An emerald green, because that was the color of my mothers eyes, wasn't it? And mine.”

“It was,” Severus murmured.

“What about you?” Harry continued cheerfully. “Is your favorite color black?”

Severus smirked. “No, Mr Snape, although black happens to be one of my well-liked colors, it is not my favorite. My favorite, I have to say, would be… green. An emerald green.”

Harry smiled warmly as Severus had called him 'Mr Snape' without mistaking him. Severus's words had grown softer as he finished.

“It seems as though we already have something in common.”

“It seems we do,” Severus said. He quieted, and then said, “My turn, is it? What is … your favorite subject in school?”

Harry made a face as he thought. “Well, Transfiguration and History of Magic are rather boring. DADA—oh, well last year with Lock—” Harry froze, saying the words over again in his head. He looked confused. “I mean… this year…” he shook his head. “Anyway, I think if I was good at it, and you weren't such a horrible teacher, that subject could be Potions.”

Severus raised his eyebrows. “My, my—me, a horrible teacher?”

Harry began to grin. “Honestly. People are scared of you. You're bitter and—and heartless and mean. You could make a first-year cry. In fact, I'm positive that must have happened already.”

Severus narrowed his eyes at the boy playfully. “Well, well, well, you little brat. Here, I may be strict on my students, but I'd hardly consider myself heartless. Perhaps having you has softened me.”

“We'll just have to see about that,” Harry said, the grin still stuck on his face.

“Indeed we shall.” There was still a playful tinge in Severus's voice.

“Maybe I should write a book about this,” Harry said out loud. “About the different sides of Severus Snape. We could begin with your childhood… and then how you were as a teenager, and then as an adult, and then being a father.” Harry paused, collecting his thoughts. “Did you ever get… mean? Meaner than you might have been?”

Harry couldn't believed he asked, but there it was.

“I began to get…”—Severus frowned at the next word—“…mean when I met James Potter and his lovely friends. Black included. An arrogant prat, and he always fancied your mother.” Severus began to look smug. “She, however, always preferred me over him.” He cleared his throat, correcting himself as he said, “Them.”

“Them?” Harry repeated, frowning.

“Potter, Black, Lupin and Pettigrew constantly tried to get Lily to befriend them. She didn't mind Lupin and Pettigrew, but she couldn't stand Black and Potter. I, for one, couldn't stand any of them.”

“Why?” Harry asked softly.

“I suppose you could call Potter and Black bullies, whilst Lupin stood by and acted as if nothing was going on. Pettigrew… the odious fool, would go along with whatever Potter and Black did.”

Pettigrew's name was spoken in disgust.

Harry wondered if this was the same back in his old reality, of it was completely different. It would have been a good reason as to why Snape dispised him so, because of his… well, because of James. Harry noticed that Severus made a face at something, and almost began to fidget in his chair.

“Is something wrong?” Harry frowned.

“Hm? Oh, well, merely that this is not the most comfortable chair ever produced.”

It didn't look comfy either, considering it had no cushioning to it. It was just made entirely of wood.

“Here,” Harry started. He picked up the wand and moved over to the right, creating another space next to him for Severus. He placed the wand on the pillow opposite of where it used to be. “This has to be more comfy than the chair.”

Then, picking up another pillow that he was not using as a backrest, he placed it next to that pillow so Severus had a backrest as well. Severus looked surprised, but got up and sat down next to Harry anyway.

“Continue,” Harry urged. “When did you start dating my mum?”

“Fifth year,” Severus answered automatically. “By that time Lily had managed to befriend Black, and still despised Potter. It was sometime during fifth year that I almost ruined our entire relationship.”

Harry raised his eyebrows. “How, exactly?”

Severus let out a sigh before he continued speaking. As he spoke, it looked like he was having difficulty getting all of his words out. “Potter and Black had humiliated… me, and I took my anger for them out on Lily. It was absurd of me. I nearly lost Lily, but after a great deal of apologizing she ultimately forgave me, which I was undoubtedly relieved over.”

Harry stayed silent, allowing Severus to carry on.

“During our sixth year Lily apparently found out about a joke that they planned pulling on me. Black was leading me down through the Whomping Willow—evidently, Lily had followed, and stopped me from going through. Lupin was in there….” Severus trailed off softly, a scowl appearing on his face at the memory.

Harry covered his mouth as he coughed. “Lupin? What d'you mean?”

“Nevermind,” Severus replied, looking distracted. “Lily began to not take to the company I kept, either, or the Dark Arts that I began to become fascinated with.”

Harry stared silently at Severus, his eyes growing larger. The Dark Arts? Severus continued, and Harry listened intently.

“She ended up withdrawing me from them at the time. I would've done anything for her. Thus, I was with Lily all the way up until graduation, and then…”

Harry frowned. “And then?”

Severus glanced sideways at Harry. “I married her.” His expression began to darken. “It was after we were married that I became a Death Eater.” At Harry's look, Severus elaborated. “A follower of Voldemort.”

Harry's eyes widened. “O—oh, right, I remember you mentioning that you were a Death Eater one time.”

“It was a foolish, inane thing. I wanted to spy for Dumbledore; to be of use… I didn't tell Lily. I should have. I didn't think of Lily when I…, I can hardly describe it. I'd never seen her that angry before, when she found out. We were on the brink of divorce subsequently… but divorce was the precise way to go. I couldn't still be married to Lily whilst simultaneously being a spy. It would've put her in danger.”

“So what did you do?” Harry asked quietly.

“We divorced.”

“And then?” Harry prompted.

“She re-married.”

Harry's mouth fell open. “So fast? To who?”

“It was awhile later, and to James Potter—in 1979. She claimed he had changed, which may have been true, but I was in no hurry to find out.”

Harry's brow furrowed in confusion. “What about me? Am I still your… your son? I have to be….”

“Oh, yes,” Severus said lightly. Harry turned his head to look up at the Potions Master, and he noticed there was a light, faint pink to his cheeks, but it was only noticeable because Severus was so pale. “There was one instance where, a month after Lily and Potter's wedding—” Severus stopped speaking, suddenly aware of where he was heading. He decided to forget he even began to say that in the first place. “Then, a while later, Lily found out she's pregnant with you. The joy that must have been celebrated in the Potter house that night….”

“They didn't know I was yours?”

“Perhaps Lily knew deep down,” Severus mused. “Black seemed to have a suspicion. When he confronted her, he gave her an ultimatum: either she tells Potter, or he does.”

“What did she choose?”

“Before you were born, she told him that she had a feeling that the baby was really mine.”

“How did he take it?” Harry asked curiously.

“I assume in the end they worked things out, considering that they still planned to stay together.” Severus's lip curled in disgust. “That's what irked me the most… though in all honesty, I was hardly surprised.”

“That she still wanted to be with him?”

Severus looked down upon Harry, nodding his head. “Precisely. It seemed nobody except for Lily, Potter, Black and myself knew of the secret that was being kept about your parentage.”

“What happened next?”

Severus let out a long, shuddering breath, which took Harry by surprise. He looked tormented by what he was going to say next.

The words were spoken softly; lifelessly.

“I killed Lily.”

Harry's head snapped up, his eyes growing wide. He killed Lily? How?

“How?” Harry whispered, voicing his thoughts, although he was scared of the answer.

Severus let out another breath. “I was beyond angry at… everything. I had lost everything. I knew of Voldemort's plans. I didn't do anything about it. It was the last second when I finally came to my senses, however I was too late when I reached the house. I watched you conquer Voldemort.”

A pained look crossed Harry's face, and Severus gave the boy a sad look before he let out a bitter laugh. “You looked exactly like a miniature Potter. You see, I hardly even knew you were born. Lily didn't try to contact me about it. You were a year old. One year old. You existed in this world for one year and I never knew—I was lucky enough to even know about Lily's pregnancy. I was lucky enough for her to even admit there was a chance that the child was mine.

“You had a scar in the shape of a lightning bolt on your forehead. I knew Voldemort must have done that, so I took you back to Hogwarts, to Dumbledore, and I figured that Lily put a charm on you to make you look like Potter. She was excellent at charms. I ended up reversing that charm…”

“And here I am,” Harry finished. “I think I would've liked growing up here with you. With Sirius,” he added. “I just… hate that I don't have this-Harry's memories.”

Severus gave his head a small shake as he looked at Harry. “We can make our own,” he said softly. “You hardly need them, Harry.”

Harry smiled, relaxing against Severus's arm. “Thank you.”

“You're welcome,” Severus answered, though he sounded like he didn't know what he was being thanked for. They fell into silence.

“You know you really didn't kill Mum,” Harry said after a while, faltering.

“I've made a lot of mistakes in my past,” Severus admitted, sounding distant. He stared silently into nothing in front of him, most likely lost in thought. Harry stayed quiet as well, unable to think of anything to say.

Severus was the first one to break the silence. He cleared his throat before he spoke. “So you say you're inadequate at Potions? Is that true?”

Harry was rather disappointed that he didn't have more time to let what Severus had said to him sink in, but he realized that Severus really didn't want to think about it anymore. So, with a nod of his head, Harry said, “Very, very inadequate. I'm horrible when it comes to Potions.”

“Perhaps for the rest of the summer on some days I could help you,” Severus suggested slowly, starting to lift himself up off the bed.

“Really? You'd put up with trying to help me? No matter if I end up still being rubbish and you've wasted all this time?”

Severus straightened his robes. “I hardly call it wasting my time, even if you do, in the end, remain rubbish.”

“A—all right,” Harry agreed, sitting up a little straighter. “When do you feel like starting? And where?”

Severus looked surprise at Harry's eagerness. “Well, I can see you're feeling much better now, so we'll begin when you see fit. As for where, in my study I have a door that leads to my lab. I'm surprised on your last visit you didn't see it.”

Color drained from Harry's cheeks as he tried not to look guilty. He gave a little cough, trying to keep eye contact with the Professor. “W—what do you mean? My last visit?”

“Oh, you know,” Severus said lightly, as if it were nothing. “When you went into my Pensieve for the second time, where Black put in the memory of the funeral. Without my permission, might I add.”

Harry's mouth fell open, staring at Severus in disbelief. He knew? All this time and he knew? Harry's cheeks began to burn brightly in embarrassment at being caught.

Severus frowned, his eyebrows knitting together. “Why did you disobey me? What made you want to see that funeral so badly?”

Harry finally looked away. “I'm sorry for disobeying you, honestly! Severus, you already know why I wanted to see it anyway. It's too difficult for me to actually explain.”

Severus shook his head. “I suppose I shouldn't get too angry with you, considering that you were in the presence of Black, as well as it was his doing. However, I am warning you to never disobey me. You'll find that you won't overly like the consequences.”

Harry pressed his lips together, the message coming quite clear to him. He nodded, relaxing his lips again to ask, “Where are you going?” as Severus made his way over to the door.

Upon hearing Harry's question, Severus turned around to look at Harry as he spoke.

“I assume it's nearing the lunch hour, and if you are regaining your appetite I shall get Nome to make us something to eat. Black, too, has been downstairs rather quietly for quite some time and I'm afraid without frequent checkups he could unintentionally be capable of somehow burning down this entire house. Then, when I return, you are going to tell me your story.”

Harry raised his eyebrows in surprise. “My story? I have a story?”

“Child,” Severus started, sighing, “every human being has a story. You have heard mine, and now I would like to hear yours.”

“Oh.” Harry bit his lip. “Sure. All right.”

“Do you have an appetite?”

“Maybe just some soup please. Noodles and crackers?”

“Very well.”

As Severus exited, Harry leaned against he pillow and closed his eyes. His story? Severus wanted to hear his story? About how he was neglected by his Aunt and Uncle, abused by his cousin and then saved by Hagrid?

Harry now took this silent opportunity to reply Severus's 'story' in his mind. So, in a way, his Mum and—well, not Dad, here. He could refer to him as Dad, Harry supposed, but then he decided to settle with just… James. So his Mum and James had gotten together, much like in the other reality. And a charm, to make him look like James? If the charm hadn't been taken off, then would he look like he had in his other reality?

Harry's thoughts were disturbed as Severus re-entered the room. Harry patted the place next to him to remind Severus of where he had been sitting before he left.

“One more question,” Harry said as Severus sat back down. “Are you still a Death Eater?”

Severus winced, taking his time to reply.

“Yes.”

“You're feeling guilty about Voldemort killing Mum while you knew?”

“Yes.” Severus examined Harry closely. “You don't refer to him as You-Know-Who? He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named? Perhaps the Dark Lord?” Harry frowned, shaking his head no, and Severus continued with, “Hm. I do wish you would, actually.”

The statement caught Harry off-guard. He nodded in agreement. “All right—but I'm not done asking you questions.”

“I believe you said 'one more question', and now you're turning it into 'seventeen more questions.'” Severus scowled. “No more stalling.”

“Wait, wait!” Harry said hastily. “Honestly, one more question. What was my name before it became Harry Severus Snape? I have a feeling it wasn't that before.”

“Indeed, you're right,” Severus answered curtly. “It was the same as you claimed it was when you first… arrived here. Harry James Potter. Now, that was your last question. Begin.”

“Ah….” Harry stared down, trying to find a place to start. “My Mum and J—James were—”

“One moment,” Severus interrupted, looking slightly confused. “James? Not 'Dad' or 'Father'?”

“I'm not really sure who I should be calling Dad at the moment,” Harry replied, and then cleared his throat. “Anyway, they were murdered by Y—You-Know-Who when I was a baby. I had the same lightning bolt scar, same green eyes, and I wore glasses there, too. I grew up with my Aunt Petunia, Uncle Vernon and cousin Dudley—”

“And how well did they treat you?” interrupted Severus curiously.

Harry shrugged. Was there any point in lying? “They didn't really like me. I was what they would call a freak. I did the cleaning, the cooking, the gardening… I was even Dudley's own personal punching bag. And then, on my eleventh birthday, Hagrid came to rescue me because they insisted on not giving me my Hogwarts letter.”

“Ah, yes, I remember you informing me of that quite a while ago,” Severus murmured. “Hagrid, you say?” He seemed to not like that fact. “I wonder why I didn't do it? I suppose, if I am as heartless there as you say I am, it comes as no surprise.”

“You hate me,” Harry pointed out. “That you… well, that you goes beyond hating me. He loathes me.”

“Shall I guess that the reason is because of Potter being your father there?”

“It's most likely,” Harry answered honestly.

“I thought so,” Severus muttered. He put his head back against the pillow behind him, and not long afterwards Harry did the same.

“I got sorted into Gryffindor,” Harry continued softly. “I made friends with Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger. The same thing with the Philosophers Stone happened. Then, second year—” Harry hesitated. Should he say anything about second year? It wouldn't mess anything up, would it? It's not like it would change history or anything like that….

Harry coughed. “Well, let's just say I'll know how to handle myself pretty well this year. I don't want to get into anything about it just yet.” He paused. “Severus,” he started again, uncertainly. He sighed, unsure of what to say. He wasn't becoming fond of the silence that they were slipping into, since he felt that it would be uncomfortable if they both just lay beside each other on the bed, staring into space and saying nothing. Then again, maybe silence was needed for the memories that had been brought back up.

Harry suddenly crinkled his nose, making a face at the distant smell. It seemed to be coming from downstairs.

“What's burning?” Harry asked, his nose still crinkled.

Severus frowned. “Burning?”

Harry nodded. Severus remained still as he tried to detect the smell that Harry pointed out. He suddenly seemed to be able to smell it too, because he then proceeded to let out a loud, aggravated sigh.

“Did I not tell you that Black would somehow manage to burn this entire house down?” Severus said furiously, and in a few, quick strides he was out the door.

Harry hastily tried to follow. He could already hear Severus's footsteps on the stairs, and he was barely even out the door.

“Maybe it's not Sirius!” Harry yelled after him, but he doubted that. Who else could it be? Nome? No… or perhaps the smell was even coming from outside.

“Black!” Severus was already past the foyer, and he was now headed for the kitchens. “What in Merlin's name are you doing?”

Faintly, Harry heard, “I'm sorry for trying to be a help!”

Harry quickened his pace until he was now right behind Severus, who snorted. “A help. Black, what have you done?”

“Nome insisted that help was not needed,” Nome spoke up. “Nome did, Master Snape, but Nome was ignored.”

“Nome wasn't ignored!” Sirius persisted, but Severus interrupted before he could continue any further.

“I am not surprised.” Severus glared at Sirius. “You burnt the food?”

Sirius shrugged sheepishly. “I'm sorry. I didn't mean to. I don't think I'm too good of a cook.”

“My, my, you don't say? What did you manage to burn? Harry's soup?”

Severus meant that sarcastically, but Sirius's face reddened.

“I forgot to add the water,” he mumbled. “And I tried making a grilled cheese sandwhich for myself, but I ended up burning that. You see, for the cooker, the dial is to turn the heat on, and I thought you turned it to the very top… apparently you don't.”

“Wow, I'm even a loads better cook than you are,” Harry said teasingly, trying to hide a grin. “Couldn't you use magic for that?”

“I wanted to try it the muggle way—”

“Black,” Severus began, trying to hold back an exasperated sigh. He pinched the bridge of his nose, briefly closing his eyes. “Would you, without another word, leave this kitchen? If you failed to realize that I am, indeed, angry with you over going into my study, as well as into my Pensieve—”

“You're angry with me? I thought you kind of… got over it. I mean, I thought we were okay.” Sirius looked embarrassed that he couldn't think of any other to put or describe it.

It seemed to make Severus even angrier. “You thought I got over it? After I said no, you went into my things to show Harry what I clearly didn't want him to see—”

“But—”

Severus's eyes flashed. He took a threatening step towards Sirius. “Never interrupt me, Black.”

“I don't appreciate being interrupted, either!” Sirius yelled. “Look, let's both not interrupt each other. I'm sorry for showing Harry that when you, for some reason, didn't want him to see.”

“An apology is not going to cut it, Black. No matter how thrilling you may find it to disobey Snape, it is hardly thrilling for me,” Severus growled.

Sirius bit his lip, asking in a quiet voice, “So does this mean I'm sleeping on the couch, smoochypoo?”

Severus let out a yell of anger, startling Harry, who stood quietly behind the Professor. “This is not a joke, Black! I am absolutely and completely tired of your unnecessary jokes! I suggest you get out of my sight before I hex you all the way into Harry's reality.”

Sirius frowned. “I don't think hexing's the way to go on that one, Snape—”

“Better yet,” Severus interrupted loudly, “I'll leave!”

Whirling around, Severus's robes almost hit Harry has he exited the kitchens. Harry stumbled back, looking up at Sirius silently.

Sirius suddenly looked exhausted as he sighed.

“I messed up,” he said, looking back at Harry helplessly. “I shouldn't have done that without permission from Snape, and I have to stop making jokes when they aren't necessary….”

Harry only stared back, just as helplessly, since he couldn't think of anything helpful or encouraging to say.