You take the breath right out of me.
You left a hole where my heart should be.
You got to fight just to make it through,
'cause I will be the death of you.

This will be all over soon.
Pour salt into the open wound.

Is it over yet? Let me in 

Breath~Breaking Benjamin

After the feast had ended, Harry and his fellow Gryffindor dorm mates had went up to their room. Where most had fallen asleep instantly, Harry couldn‘t. Currently, Harry was sitting and looking out of the window, listening to the snores from his dorm mates. Harry had tried to sleep but it proved to be futile. He just couldn’t seem to get the image of Professor Snape out of his mind.

Harry was dumbfounded. Sitting at the head table had been the man that he had been dreaming about; the man that he had wanted to see ever since he had found out that he was his father. He recalled the conversation during the feast that he had had with Ron’s older brother, Percy.

“Percy who is that teacher talking to Professor Quirrell?” Harry asked.

“Oh, that’s Professor Snape, head of Slytherin house.” Percy explained.

Harry felt cold. He curled himself into a ball and continued to look out of the window. Never before had he felt so small and so helpless as he had then. Even when his Uncle Vernon had been beating him, he had never known a pain like this. His father hated him. He had seen it when he looked up after sitting the Sorting Hat down. Harry had peered into the man’s eyes. He had never seen so much loathing and hate inside of any one person before. How could someone hate someone else so much without even really knowing them? The Dursleys hated him. However, they had raised him and knew him. Not fully, but enough to know that he wasn’t anything but a freak.

Maybe, Snape thought I wasn’t anything but a freak too.

Tears began to well up in his eyes at the thought. No. He wouldn’t think those thoughts. Not until he knew for sure that Professor Snape did hate him.

Harry moved away from the window and plopped down in front of his trunk. He rustled around until he reached the very bottom and felt the letter that he had received over the summer. He had gotten this letter the night his Uncle Vernon had truly cracked and told them all to get packed up because they were going to go somewhere where ‘they’ couldn’t find them. When he had went upstairs to get his things, there had been a tattered- looking owl peering at him. He had quickly grabbed the letter that the owl had had. The night before he turned 11, he had slowly taken the letter out of his pocket and read it. Too say that he had been shocked would have be an understatement.

To my son, Harry,

If you are reading this, I am most likely dead. My one hope is that you have survived this godforsaken war along with your mother. My son, I am so proud of you. Mere words cannot express how much you mean to me and your mother. When I watched your birth, I had been scared and angry but when I finally saw you and held you for the first time all I could think about was watching you grow up and become a wonderful young man. You are mine in everything but blood. Sorry, my son, I am sure that you don't care about matters like that. You are probably wondering….In everything but blood? If your mother has not told you yet then I shall. I was always one not to follow the rules, just ask your uncles Padfoot, Moony, and Wormtail. Anyway, yes, Harry, I am not your biological father but I have made you my own in everything else that matters. I adopted you and made you my heir and I have loved you more then life itself. Before you become angry and irrational towards your mother, let me tell you the story.

Your mother is a kind and loving individual and has the tendency to do rash things. Two months before our wedding, she had wanted to go visit an old friend of hers. However, I did not know which friend that she had wanted to see but regardless, I respected her wishes and told her to be safe and to come home soon. She went, not knowing what to expect from this meeting. Nevertheless, she had been determined. Unfortunately, she had come home distraught and ashamed. She confessed to me to whom she visited and that she had done a terrible thing. As she told me the story, I will admit that I became angry, very very angry. I left her but came home a month later to hear the rest of the story. She had cried and explained that she had been having second thoughts and wanted someone to share her fears with. Things had gotten out of hand. She didn’t love him but she had been to caught up in the past. She had once loved him but they had had a rather ugly falling out. I saw the truth and shame in her eyes as she begged for my forgiveness. Understanding what it was like to make mistakes, I forgave her but she said that she wasn’t finished yet. She told me she was pregnant with you. I had wanted to hurt him but upon seeing your mother so distraught and full of remorse, I vowed to claim the child as my own and to raise him to be everything that your real father would hate.

I must go, Harry but remember that I love you and to never give up.

Your Father,

Harry sighed and rubbed his tired eyes as he folded up the letter from James. He put the letter away and crawled into bed. He pushed every thought of the potions master and the horrible truth to the back of his mind to be dealt with later. All he wanted right now was sleep.

XXXX

Severus Snape had never felt this old before. After the welcoming feast was over, he had immediately swept out of the Great Hall towards the dungeons where he had proceeded to make final preparations for his classes tomorrow. While he was doing so, he had contemplated on the Potter boy’s mysterious looks. The boy did not look like his father but like someone else. His mother, Lily, perhaps? Yes, the boy had her small nose, smooth jaw line and of course, eyes. Those eyes had nearly stopped his heart. It had been like looking into Lily’s eyes again. He growled. Damn boy.

It was troubling him greatly but he would have to think about it later. He needed to concentrate on his potion’s lesson. He huffed. Another year with a class full of dunderheads. Honestly, Hogwarts should have a better standards than to except unworthy fools, every year, to grace these hallowed halls. He always complained to Albus about this but his opinions fell onto deaf ears. Albus would just smile and say the same, ridiculous statement every time.

“Severus, would you care to have a lemon drop?”

Sometimes it was enough to just scream in frustration. He should just find another job. I mean, really.

XXXX

The next morning, Harry woke up earlier than the rest of his dorm mates. He stopped his alarm from going off and pulled his hangings open. Thankfully, the rest of the room’s occupants were still asleep. Quickly, he gathered his toiletry kit and robes and headed to the washrooms. He got in the shower and out as fast as possible. He wrapped a towel around himself and checked to see if anyone else was in the bathroom. He didn’t want anyone to see the scars that marked his back and arm. He dressed and combed his long curly hair, covering up his lightening bolt shaped scar and recent cut from his uncle.

He grabbed his bag and headed down to the Great Hall for breakfast. It took him forever to find it, which was another reason he was grateful that he had gotten up early. When he got there, he saw that most of Gryffindor table was full with older students and a couple first years such as the bushy haired girl he met on the train. He sat down and looked around at the mounds of food. He was still amazed at the sheer magnitude of it all. Greedily, he snatched some eggs and toast and began to eat. He was so focused on his food that he didn’t even notice someone was watching him. When he reached for his pumpkin juice, he looked up and saw a girl staring at him with great interest.

A strange angel.

He had never seen anyone that looked as she did. She was beautiful but the features that made her beautiful were meshed together in a strange way. She had long curly ringlets that were pulled into two braids which covered her abnormally large ears which stuck out too far from her head. She was a nice shade of tan but when she moved her shirt moved up to reveal hideous scars that marred her skin. Her light blue, almost gray eyes were scary though. They reminded him of a dog he had seen once. When she smiled, she showed a set of pointy teeth that made her look demented.

“Hello. My names Trinti. Trinti Brown. I am a first year. What’s your name?” she asked.

Harry swallowed.

“My name is Harry Potter.” he said nervously hoping this time to make a friend and not another admirer.

“Ah. So you’re the one they were talking about on the train? I wondered. Oh well. I was just curious because I had never seen anyone eat so fast before,” she chuckled.

Harry smiled. He was beginning to like her and she didn’t once look at his scar. Before he could reply, Ron showed up and at the same time that Professor McGonagall was handing out their timetables. Harry started to become nervous and stood up to head to his first class knowing that it would take him awhile to find it. Trinti stood up as well and showed that she was even shorter and tinier then he was. She offered to walk with him to class since they both had Transfiguration first. He said his goodbyes to Ron and headed to class. After walking around for almost 20 minutes, Ron came running up behind them and told them that they had to hurry because they were going to be late. No sooner than when Ron had said that, the bell rang and they started to run.

Arriving 10 minutes late to his first lesson wasn’t how Harry had planned start out his first year at Hogwarts. His musings were quickly forgotten as McGonagall began teaching. Harry was fascinated. He wanted to learn so much and he began to fear that he wouldn’t have the time. When the lesson ended, he, Ron, and Trinti headed to the rest of their classes with as much anticipation as they had for their first lesson.

XXXX

Severus had just finished up with a class full of hopeless Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff fifth years. After he had stressed the importance of the O.W.L.S, he proceeded to teach on the Draught of Peace. After one foolish Hufflepuff had managed to foul up their potion beyond repair, his mood had turned just as foul. He then assigned them a rather long and tedious essay and dismissed the irritating class. He knew his next class was not going to be any better than his previous one.

First-years Slytherins and Gryffindors.

He went into his office to retrieve his class notes and for a bit of fun decided to make a rather dramatic entrance to scare the poor spineless brats. As he banged the door open, all of the class jumped and some even gasped. He sneered with pleasure. Oh. How he loved to do that.

“You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potion making. As there is little foolish wand-waving here, many of you will hardly believe this is magic. I don’t expect you will really understand the beauty of the softly simmering cauldron with its shimmering fumes, the delicate power of liquids that creep through human veins, bewitching the mind, ensnaring the senses,” he paused for a moment to let the poor, unfortunate souls catch up, “I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, even stopper death--if you aren’t as big a bunch of dunderheads as I usually have to teach.”

His eyes swept the room making sure to make eye contact with every student to drive his point home. Rage filled him when he saw that the Potter brat was writing down something instead of listening to his speech. How dare he?! That arrogant spoiled brat. He was starting to prove himself to be just like his father. Ah well. He was about to learn to never come across the wrath of Severus Snape.

“Then again maybe some of you have come to Hogwarts in possession of abilities so formidable that you feel confident enough to - not - pay - ATTENTION!”

He watched as the Granger girl elbowed the boy causing him to look up timidly which enraged him even more.

“Mr. Potter, our new-- celebrity.” He smirked.

He stared straight into the boys eyes and asked, “What would I get if I added powered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?”

Severus watched as the boy glanced at the Weasley boy and notice the blank look that adorned his side-kick’s face. His expression fell and Severus felt an immense load of satisfaction at this. He was going to bring the boy down from his self-imposed pedestal.

“I don’t know, sir,” said Harry.

Severus’ lips curled into a sneer.

“Tut, tut. Clearly fame isn’t everything, is it, Mr. Potter?”

He watched as the boy slowly looked around the room, his cheeks burning red in embarrassment.

“Let’s try again. Potter, where would you look if I told you to find me a bezoar?”

“I don’t know, sir.”

“Thought you wouldn’t open a book before coming, eh, Potter?”

Severus observed the boy lower his head and tears form in his eyes. The boy didn’t fight back. Interesting.

“I see. Here is an easier one for you. Let’s hope you can understand this question. What is the difference, Potter, between monkshood and wolfs bane?”

“I don’t know, sir,” the boy mumbled clearly distressed.

Severus smirked and his eyes glinted, “For your information, asphodel and wormwood make a sleeping potion so powerful it is known as the Draught of Living Death. A bezoar is a stone taken from the stomach of a goat and it will save you from most poisons. As for monkshood and wolfs bane, they are the same plant, which also goes by the name of aconite. These were a few simple questions and yet you cannot seem to answer them. Tut, tut. Pity, isn’t it?”

His gaze swept from the boy to the rest of the class and he said softly, “Well? Why aren’t you all copying this down?”

The class scrambled together to remember what he just said. The rest of the period was spent taking notes. As the class was doing this, he kept glancing at the boy. He noticed some things that disturbed him. The boy was clearly hot but insisted on wearing long sleeves. Also, he noticed, that the boy had long hair that kept his scar hidden along with a deep gash on his temple.

I wonder why he is trying to hide his scar. Severus mused

XXXX

“What does Snape have against you, I wonder?” Trinti was musing, “I mean you were writing down everything that he said but he didn’t seem to take the time to look at what you were writing. But instead, he criticized you for writing. At least you were paying attention unlike some of us.” At this Trinti glared at the passing Malfoy and his Slytherin cronies. “What is up with that do you think?”

“I know! Harry, you should do something about it. It isn’t fair.” Ron put in when Trinti stopped for a breath.

Harry was thankful that he was not alone in this. He had wondered the same thing when they had been taking notes. He had been furious and he still was.

How dare that man?! This man is supposed to be my father?

Harry wondered irritably. He had been writing down every word that the man had said just to make him happy. He had just wanted to impress him and show he was someone that was worthy to be praised. He didn’t have a clue as to how he was supposed to tell him the truth now. How could he, when the man clearly had some sort of personal vendetta against him?

“I know you guys,” Harry whispered in his quiet voice, “Life isn’t fair though and that’s not about to change just because I go runnin’ to McGonagall. Thanks though.”

“Harry, that isn’t true and you know it. He didn’t say anything to the Slytherins. He just picked on you and even if you don’t think so, it’s wrong. Now, how about we get to Charms? I hear that its supposed to be the best class. That’s what my mom says. Ron! Stop walking so damn fast. Geez….”

Harry smiled. He hoped that their friendship would last awhile. He didn’t know how he could have made it through the rest of the day without her or Ron.

XXXX

Harry went to the rest of his lessons and had decided to skip dinner. For the remainder of the day he had remained silent, ignoring Ron and Trinti’s attempts at conversation. At the moment, he couldn’t help but feel hopeless. With a sudden flash of insight, he decided to do something to make the man like him. He rushed up to his dorm and laid down trying to think of something that would impress Professor Snape. Finally, he sat up with a grim smile on his face. He was going to study everything he possibly could about Potions.

Harry quickly jumped up, went into the common room, and hurried to the portrait hole.

“Harry, wait up. I wanna come with you.”

He looked around to see Trinti coming towards him with a smile on her face. They walked out of the portrait hole together and walked towards the library. They needed to hurry in order to get back to the common room before curfew.

“Where are you going?”

“Library. Why did you want to come with me?”

Trinti gave him a sideways look and blushed. “You wouldn’t talk to me or Ron after potions class and I was worried that maybe I had said something to upset you…”

Surprised Harry answered, “Oh. I’m sorry bout that. I was just thinking about some stuff. I wasn’t mad at you.”

They entered the library and Trinti asked what they were looking for, offering to help him. He asked her to find as many potion books as she could. She looked like she wanted to protest but she did what he asked anyway.

“Harry, may I ask what possessed you to get all of these potion books? This is crazy, man! We have so much homework already. Why are you adding to that?”

Harry sighed. “You know why I have to do this. I can’t look like a fool in front of Professor Snape again. I am not a stupid person and I don’t want to give him any reason to make it seem like I am.”

“All right. But please, don’t overdo it.”

After leaving the library, they slowly walked to the tower with their arms heavily leaden with books. When they reached the common room, Ron walked up to them and took some books from Trinti, sitting them on the table. With a raised eyebrow he picked up one of the books from the stack but he quickly put it back down, as if it was dangerous or something.

“Why did you guys check out every book on potions? This is sick. Isn’t one enough?”

“Harry and I just wanted to do some ‘light’ reading. Goodness, Ron. You act like it’s a crime.”

Ron just stuck his tongue out at Trinti and she flipped a rather ‘nice’ gesture of her own back at him. Which, in turn, lead to a extremely competitive chess match with each of them, wanting to prove that they were better than the other.

Harry looked at his enormous stack of books, wisely deciding to leave Ron and Trinti to their fun. Sighing, he decided to tackle the first one in the stack, which was Healing Potions of the 20th Century. He had to start somewhere.

He was determined to impress this man, even if it took everything in him.