February 6th

“That boy is You Know Who’s replica! He could be the chosen heir!”

“That is only a myth, my friend.” Dumbledore looked up at the irate Minister of Magic for the second time in only a few days. He sighed, eyes sparkling sadly. “Harry is here to find his place in our world.”

“He’s a monster!”

“What truly lead you to believe that, Cornelius?” Dumbledore asked with great curiosity, hoping he could get the answer finally. “Was it Rita Skeeter’s article when Harry was placed in Slytherin house?” He stared coolly at Fudge, before popping a lemon drop into his mouth

Fudge sputtered before exploding. “That-that thing nearly killed a boy!”

Dumbledore did not look the least bit perturbed. “Harry only had an extreme magical burst during the scuffle. He was acting on pure self defense.”

“Self defense?!” The Minister let out an irritated puff of air. “I have never seen a self-defense so…” Unable to finish, he looked back at Dumbledore. “That boy was cut to ribbons.”

“Severus gave the personnel from St. Mungo’s the counter curse.”

“More than likely he taught that spell to the monster! That was dark magic, Dumbledore.”

Fudge stared wide-eyed at the Headmaster, gaping like a fish. Dumbledore let a small smile cross his mouth.

“I knew it!” He screamed with satisfaction, pumping a flabby arm into the air. “That Death Eater will be out of this castle before you know it – including that monster with him.”

“Severus was a spy for the Light. You know this.”

“What’s to say he didn’t play both sides?”

“He didn’t.” Dumbledore stated gently. “I believe Harry is the proof of that.”

“He impregnated a married woman. A muggleborn!” He looked at Dumbledore with critical eyes. “You expect me to believe he cared for her. There were many muggleborns who birth Death Eater children against their will!”

“Severus and Lily Evans loved each other for many years. Is it really that hard to believe, Cornelius?”

The Minister huffed again and stalked over to admire Dumbledore’s gadgets, likely to calm down.

Lily might even be alive.

Fudge failed to see the small tear falling down Dumbledore’s wrinkled face.

***

Hermione believed they were an odd group with a tortured half-blood boy once believed to be the savior of the world, now believed to be its destruction, another boy with a snippy mouth and pureblood aristocratic attitude, and herself, a plain, nothing-really-special, muggleborn.

“Why can’t Potter help me?”

She turned her attention to the boy beside her. “Because Harry is still weak himself. You already know that, Draco.”

“You do not call me by my given name. You don’t have the privilege.” He effectively ignored Hermione’s glare even as she helped him walk. He looked at the back of Harry’s head. “And why exactly are we going to the Quidditch pitch, Potter? Does Professor Snape have any idea what we’re up to?”

“No…” he mumbled and nibbled his lip a bit. “But I have to get closer to the sky,” Harry said quietly.

“Why?” Draco asked, shivering a bit despite the thick woolen robes he wore.

“Because I can talk to my Mum when I get closer to the sky. It’s why I love flying,” he mumbled, picking up his pace. His face and neck had a reddish tinge to it from likely embarrassment.

Draco stared at Harry’s back before saying lowly, “Yea, Potter, you are definitely not normal.”

Even though she was certain that Harry didn’t even hear what his dorm mate said, she whipped her head fast to look at Draco. “Can’t you be nice?”

“No,” Draco replied smarmily.

Hermione glared at him and began picking up her pace. Draco’s weak legs were beginning to drag in the soggy ground, creating two trails in the mud. “For Merlin’s sake, Granger, slow down!”

“Say you’re sorry to Harry!”

“What?!”

“Do it!”

“Fine! Fine! I’m sorry, Potter!” He screamed and looked at Hermione whose pace seemed to getting faster. “Granger, slow down! I’m getting mud in my shoes!”

“Big deal!”

“These are dragon hide boots!”

“Matches you fire-breathing attitude!”

Once they reached to Pitch, they watched as Harry ran into the middle, where every game began. As Harry was still incredibly weak, no broom would be safe. But he could stare at the best spot of sky in all of Hogwarts grounds. With a brilliant smile on his face, he fell down on his back, spreading his arms and his legs. Draco and Hermione watched in curiosity

“Yea… so not normal,” Draco muttered.

Hermione stomped on his foot. He glared at her darkly but allowed her to take him to Harry. They stayed for a moment – surprisingly neither Hermione nor Draco – spoke a word to the boy as he muttered under his breath words incomprehensible.

“Well, look what we have here!”

Draco stiffed at the voice and Harry bolted straight to his feet, putting his wand in his hand slowly.

Hermione made to pull away from Draco but the boy clamped a shaking hand on her shoulder. “Bloody hell, Granger, you let go and I’ll be on my arse!” he hissed into her ear.

“Then what am I supposed to do?”

“You’re a Gryffindor. Improvise!”

Her glare seemed nearly enough to dry all the mud in his shoes.

“Well, look, my friends… we’ve found our disappearing classmates,” Nott said with an amused smirk at the trio.

All the Slytherin first years walked up until they were only a few feet away. Pansy looked stricken at Draco’s arm wrapped around Granger’s shoulder. Daphne looked confused and a little disgusted. However, the ever-present tears were on her face. Blaise seemed to be holding in laughter at Draco’s flushing face. Millicent and Goyle’s faces looked quite blank. Crabbe was gobbling down a pastry – chocolate all over his mouth – being effectively unaware of the site before him.

“Draco seems to have found new friends,” caroled Blaise as he walked forward to stand beside Nott.

“This is not how it se–” Draco stopped unable to finish his sentence as a violent shaking climbed up his spine. “I’m going to kill my father…” he hissed under his breath. Both Harry and Hermione heard and leaned forward to share a glance.

Harry placed a hand on Draco’s shoulder as he began to sway even in Hermione’s hold. The girl stumbled a bit, barely able to take his shifting weight.

“Draco…What’s going on?” asked Daphne as she walked forward and took a hold of Draco’s jaw, smiling at him. Her hand moved up and the smile soon left his face, a fearful stare taking its place. She slowly brought her hand back and stared, horrified, at the glistened red on her finger tips.

“Blood…” she whispered, staring at Draco with wide eyes holding a sort of morbid wonder.

Draco began shaking, looking up at Daphne with almost blank eyes. Then, slowly, blood flowed from his eyes like tears. His nose began to gush and he could no longer keep his balance, as his entire weight fell on Harry and Hermione. The same red liquid – undoubtedly blood – poured down both sides of his neck, flowing from his ears. The Slytherin first years watched in horror as Harry and Hermione struggled to lay him on the ground.

Suddenly, everything caught up with Daphne as she let out a piercing scream, falling to her knees away from them.

“Oh my…” Millicent muttered.

“This is… interesting…” Nott said walking forward to admire Draco’s pain.

“Get away from him!” Hermione screamed, jumping up into Theodore’s face.

“Fiery little mudblood,” Blaise purred coming near Hermione but jumped back when she whipped out her wand. “Easy… your filthiness…”

“Potter did this! Potter’s cursed him! Just like Fester!” screeched Pansy.

“Technically, Fester was cut till nearly there wasn’t any skin left. Draco is apparently bleeding from the inside out.” Nott replied in a teasing tone.

“Now is not the time to play games, Theo! He is dying and Potter will have killed him!”

Harry looked up at them with wide eyes and suddenly, Draco’s words from yesterday echoed in his mind. Your mother was a Gryffindor, Potter. Figure it out.

“What does it matter, Pansy?” asked Blaise silkily. “Draco was so eager to befriend Potter at the beginning, after all.”

“And maybe, just maybe, Potter will be the next Dark Lord!” Pansy retorted sarcastically.

“SHUT UP!” Harry screamed jumping to his feet, eyes bright, cheeks flushed. “I did nothing to Draco!”

“First name basis, Potter?”

“For Merlin’s sake, Zabini, Potter has not cursed me in any fashion,” said Draco with a cracking voice, finally breaking out of the attack. He didn’t complain as Hermione helped him sit up. “So lay down your words.”

“Strong declaration for an eleven-year-old, Mr. Malfoy,” stated a voice from the entrance, the trio had come through. Harry, Hermione and Draco stiffened as Professor Snape strolled forward between the two groups.

“Now, what is exactly is going on here?” he asked silkily.

“Potter’s cursed Draco!” Pansy screamed hysterically. “He could have died. He still could die!”

“I assure you, Miss Parkinson, Draco is in no danger of dying.” At least at this time…His thoughts finished for him and he scowled deeply.

The fleeing thought left him as he caught eyes with his father and Severus quickly turned to the other Slytherins. Harry watched in amazement as Severus cast a spell on every person simultaneously and zippers came over their mouths. Pansy looked stricken. Daphne looked horribly frightened, tears coursing fast down her face. Nott seemed calm and collected. Goyle and Millicent were patting their mouths confusedly. Goyle tried to take a bit of his second pastry – which had appeared from his robe pocket – and found that to be impossible, smashing the sweet against his lips.

But Harry watched in fascination as Draco chuckled weakly at Blaise’s terrified face. “What’s the matter, Zabini? Can’t waggle your cocky tongue anymore?”

“Draco…” Severus said lowly, turning his head to the trio, eyes focusing on his godson. “That is enough.”

“Yes, sir,” he muttered bitterly. Then he noticed Hermione’s tears. “Why are you crying, Granger?”

She pursed her lips even though her bottom lip wobbled. She opened her mouth but no sound came out. Then she slapped him hard on the shoulder.

“Bloody hell, Granger! That hurt!”

“Draco, language…” Severus ordered, staring at the boy with cool eyes – the eyes of Professor Snape, not Severus, not Harry’s father. The eyes of Professor Snape were nearly the same as the eyes of the Death Eater – spy or not.

“Sir…?” Harry asked timidly.

Severus turned to him, face slowly morphing into kind eyes and a smile, hidden from the other Slytherins. Hermione, Draco and Harry all seemed relax a bit but they stiffened once more at the professor’s words.

“Miss Granger, escort them back to the dungeons.”

“But, sir, I–” she started but Severus held up a hand.

“A flower, Miss Granger.” He couldn’t help but smirk at the realization on her as she spared a glance at Harry.

Harry gave Severus a small smile and his father nodded at him. “We’ll discuss this later,” Severus said for only Harry to hear. Harry nodded, nibbling his lip again and wrapped Draco’s other arm around his neck.

“This is so embarrassing,” Draco moaned as they led him away.

“You’ll survive,” Hermione hissed at him.

***

“How bloody long do we have to wait here!”

“Technically, you live here now. In your state, apparently you shouldn’t go anywhere, especially when you’re acting like a git. Which I’ve noticed that that is every second you are awake.”

Draco rolled his eyes, then looked at the fire with a short glance before turning to Harry. “Potter, please, I beg you. Get this bushy beast away from me.” He said in a mocking desire.

But Harry didn’t answer. He was curled up in Professor Snape’s favorite chair, hugging a pillow tightly. His eyes stared into the flames, lost deep in his thoughts. His brow was furrowed and tears laced his eyes, but they did not fall.

“Harry, what’s wrong?” Hermione asked quietly.

Harry opened his mouth but stopped when the fire glared bright green. Harry held his breath, unsure how to approach his father after his disobedience. But the figure in the fire was not Severus but a small figure in expensive robes.

“Mother?!” Draco exclaimed in surprise. “I thought you were going to go to Paris with father.”

“We have other problems,” she said sadly, staring at Draco and then Harry, even putting a small pitying look at Hermione.

“Mum,” Draco let the formalities go, nervous at her disheveled form. “What’s going on?”

“I just need to talk to you, love. Nothing is wrong.”

Then muffled screaming came from the outside corridor. Narcissa was certain that Severus had sound proofed the walls. Shaking her head, she motioned for the children to stay put. As soon as the door opened, a blonde man in ragged clothing fell on the ground clutching his right eye.

She peered down at the man, then jumped back as he was a poisonous snake. “Lupin?! What the hell?!” Snape then stalked forward, kicking Lupin in the ribs as he went. “Severus, what is going on?!”

Severus ignored her as he hauled Remus up by the collar of his robes, growled something at the other man none of the others could hear. Then, Severus tossed him into the hallway.

Then, as soon as he closed the door, he stalked into the small kitchen area. Narcissa whispered to the children to stay seated and as she left she saw the frightened look on Harry’s face.

She entered the kitchen just as a wine glass shattered at her feet. She looked up, shocked as poured the Firewhiskey down the sink.

“Sev, what’s going on?” she asked gently, stepping over the shards and coming toward him. Once her hand reached his shoulder, he whirled around and threw the empty liquor bottle at the stone wall. Narcissa yelped as tiny pieces scratched her arms and face.

“Severus, talk to me,” she pleaded softly.

“Perhaps…” he sighed and then finished lowly. “Perhaps Lupin is right… I am not fit to be Harry’s father.”

Narrowing her eyes, Narcissa grabbed his face roughly, pulling at his chin until he looked her in the eyes. “You are suitable. You are the only one who can save that child.” He watched as her eyes filled with tears. “Lily chose you to be Harry’s father. Lily trusted you. She loved you with all that she had… Don’t you think that should be enough?”

He nodded then pulled her into a hug. He sobbed once and only once but he allowed Narcissa to hold him. It was as if they were back in school, thicker then family. Only Lily was gone now and that meant everything.

***

Hermione watched as Draco walked like a drunken man, leaning heavily on the ebony dragon-headed cane. It was sad really. As much as she disliked him, she would never wish such pain on people. Even Draco Malfoy.

“What is it, Granger?” Draco growled as he made his way to the couch in front of the dwindling fire. “Gawking apparently is not beyond Gryffindors.”

“I wasn’t gawking.” She sighed, gazing at the embers. “I feel sorry for you.”

“I don’t want your pity,” he snarled then collapsed on the couch.

Hermione looked over him. “It’s not pity… because I admire you,” she whispered turning her eyes to Draco. He stared into hers for a long time before he looked back at the fire, nodding his head absently.

Then, the sound of a pair of plodding feet reached them and they watched as Harry came through, socked feet scooting on the ground. He looked at both their pensive faces then sat down in the same chair as earlier, curling into a ball.

“So, Potter, what’s your punishment?”

“I have to help him with medicinal potions for the two weeks.”

“What a punishment,” Draco’s sarcastic attitude put a smile on Harry’s face. “You love potions.”

Harry looked at Draco, still smiling. “He said it would be different if I directly disobeyed him again.”

Draco knew that Granger wouldn’t understand his smile at these words. Draco could, but he wasn’t about to divulge any information about himself. He was still learning after all.

They sat in silence for a long time, they could faintly hear the scratching of Severus quill in his study. From the sounds coming from that room, it was extremely safe to say the papers would practically bleed with red ink.

“I have to tell you something,” Draco mumbled but Harry and Hermione caught it, leaning forward as much as they could without them all sharing the same seat.

“We, all of us, have to find the Philosopher’s Stone.”

Hermione stared at him in shock while Harry looked quizzicaly at him.

“That makes a person immortal," Hermione stated, most likely for Potter's benefit. "Why in the world do we have to find it?” Hermione asked skeptically.

“We just do.” Draco replied, eyes straying once more to the dying flames before him. “You just have to trust me.” Then he saw Harry biting his bottom lip again. Draco leaned toward him as much he could with a twinkle in his gray eyes. “It’s not disobeying if they don’t order you not to.”

Hermione rolled her eyes and Harry smiled a little, not entirely convinced but wanting to be.

***

He sat in the dark. Always in the dark. His master preferred it that way. Dark, silent, alone.

Only this man was never alone. His master was always with him.

He couldn’t help but shiver as he replied, “My lord, one of your inner circle as betrayed you.”

“Do not play games with me.” The voice hissed. “What is his name?”

“Severus Snape, sir.”

“But Severus is so loyal to me…” the voice said seemingly to itself.

“Snape was only loyal to one person, a mudblood in Dumbledore’s little Order…” Quirrel trailed off a bit, unsure how to say what he had found next. “Snape is Harry Potter biological father. According to Dumbledore, his features have changed. The story has reached the papers.”

His master made a contemplative noise. Quirrel shivered.

“Perhaps I could kill the boy…?” he asked his master gently, unable to disguise the hope in his eyes – not that his master could ever see them.

“I could go now, my lord,” he burst out eagerly.

“No, you must keep up appearances.” Quirrel’s eyes strayed to the piles of papers on his desk. “It is time for me to feed.”

Quirrel nodded then and shook violently as he felt his master slip away. But he was never truly alone. He could still feel the cold, clawed hand in his mind.

He looked down at the long length of cloth in his hand, enjoying its empty presence away from his body.