Harry squeezed the crumpled ingredient list with his sweaty palm, and rushed to keep in step with Snape, as his brain attempted to process the man's observations and lectures.

Harry's face had heated up after Snape raised his eyebrow when Harry had asked him if he needed to look at his list for Potions class.

“Powdered root of Asphodel, Belladonna, Billywig parts,” Snape muttered, as he continued plucking the jars off the shelves. He swept down the aisles of the Apothecary, his robes flowing behind him.

Despite himself, Harry couldn't help but be impressed. After spending the last three weeks with the man; helping him in his lab, spending hours, side-by-side brewing potions together, he realised that this was a man who loved the art of Potion making as much as he did breathing. He watched the man, deep in thought and concentration; it was almost as if Snape transformed into a different person when he brewed, or was lost deep in thought about Potion making; Snape was in his element.

“Mr. Potter,” Snape said, as he stopped abruptly, placing one last jar in the basket. Harry fidgeted under the intense gaze. "I need to speak with you about an important matter."

"Sir?"

"Come," Snape said, firmly placing his hands on Harry's shoulders, and leading him to the back of the store.

Harry's stomach swirled in anxiety as Snape pulled his wand from his robes' pocket, slashed it through the air and whispered a few words in Latin. Harry shifted from foot to foot, and waited anxiously as Snape remained silent for several moments; his dark eyes boring into Harry's.

Finally, he spoke. "There are some things Mr. Potter," he began, tracing his lips with his long finger, "that some, including those at the Ministry, would prefer I not tell you."

Harry looked up at him in mock innocence. "And what would that be sir?"

Snape narrowed his eyes at him. "As I'm certain that you are well aware, there is a convicted killer on the loose," he said, a vicious look transforming his already harsh features.

Harry nodded. "Sirius Black you mean, sir?"

"Yes," Snape said in a deadly whisper.

"But what has that got to do with me sir?" Harry asked, schooling his features to appear as though he didn't already know Snape's answer.

"Sirius Black is a dangerous man... a convicted killer." Snape leant forward to tower over Harry. "A follower of the Dark Lord, who would like nothing more than to get his hands on disobedient little boys who like to stick their noses where they don't belong.”

Harry bristled at the term, "Disobedient little boy."

Snape leant in even closer, until Harry could feel his hot breath on his cheek. "And you are to stay away from him... understood, Potter?"

Harry's eyes widened in surprise. Stay away from him? Shouldn't it be the other way around?

"But sir...why would I go looking for someone that wants to kill me?"

"Just do as your told Potter," Snape snapped.

Harry nodded. "Yes sir."

Severus studied Harry's face for a moment. He sincerely hoped that the boy would do as he was told for once in his life. Knowing Potter as he did, however, he seriously doubted that the boy would obey him and stay securely within the confines of the castle. He pinched the bridge of his nose. No...Severus was certain that he would be, once again, running after James Potter's spawn, trying to keep one step ahead of him, to save his sorry hide. Oh Lily... I'm trying to keep your son safe, but Merlin the child attracts trouble like a magnet; goes looking for it...in forbidden places.

"I hope so Potter, because if I find out that you've disobeyed me-" He straightened up to his full, menacing height, towering over the slight boy; putting on the most fearsome expression he could muster up. "-if Sirius Black doesn't finish you off, then you'll have to deal with me." His dark eyes gleamed. "Do I make myself clear?"

Harry gulped.

Severus smirked in satisfaction at the look of fear that flitted over the boy's face. He was, contrary to popular belief, trying hard to change his mindset toward the boy. Perhaps if he instilled some terror into the boy, he would not act so rashly. Wishful thinking Severus, a little voice taunted.

Although Snape looked very menacing, looming over him...so tall, and fixing him with his dark eyes, Harry could have sworn that he saw a fleeting look of concern come over the man's sharp features. But no... Snape wouldn't be concerned over him... Would he?

Harry nodded again. "Yes sir."

Severus glared at him for a few minutes longer for good measure, and then waved his wand once more to lift the privacy spell.

"I do believe that there are a few more items on your list that we need to acquire, including a new cauldron," he sneered. "I took the liberty of checking to make sure that all of your Potions supplies were in order and discovered, much to my chagrin, that your cauldrons are burnt to the point of rendering your potions useless, or even dangerous because of a possible chemical interaction."

Harry blushed. He had made a right mess of his cauldron at the end of last year's Potions class, when he had mistakenly turned the flame too high, and had mixed two highly acidic compounds together, practically melting the surface of the cauldron.

They began their search through the aisles of cauldrons and utensils, Harry listening attentively as Snape described the various advantages of using a stainless steel, copper or even a gold cauldron, depending on the potion that was being brewed.

Severus noted with pleasure that the boy seemed to be paying rapt attention to his teachings for once.

He looked down into Harry's young face and got a jolt of surprise at the interest that he saw reflected there. He ignored the little stab of guilt that rose to the surface at the thought that perhaps if he had exhibited the same patience with the boy that he had in the past three weeks, then perhaps Harrywould have succeeded in his class.

Severus smirked at the boy. “You do realise, Mr. Potter, that after your performance these past few weeks, I will be expecting a higher standard of work from you?"

Harry's jaw dropped. Did the man just compliment him? Harry could feel his face heat up, and he looked up shyly at his professor. How was he supposed to reply? "Yes sir," he said finally. That was always a safe thing to say. The man would never object to being referred to as sir, nor Harry replying in the affirmative to a direct order from him.

Snape nodded. "Come. We must finish up and meet the Weasleys at a small establishment near Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour. It would seem that your little friends have convinced their parents, that after stuffing their face with unhealthy food like greasy chips and burgers," he said caustically, "that they must absolutely consume a large ice cream sundae, sopping with mounds of sugary chocolate sauce, whipped cream, cherries, and other sweets. As if you lot were not already high on sugary confections from your earlier foray into every sweet shoppe on Diagon Alley," he said disgustedly.

Harry grinned, but sobered up quickly at the scowl on Snape's face. What a great end to a great day.

Yes, he may have a maniacal murderer hot on his heels, but all in all...life was good, Harry thought. He was free from the Dursleys forever; he would, for the first time since ever, have brand spanking new clothes to wear, that weren't three sizes too big for him, to start the new year off with. Professor Snape had actually given him a compliment...even if he had looked like he'd sucked on a lemon while doing so, he had spent the day with his friends in Diagon Alley, and they were going to have ice cream. Harry remembered when he had tasted his first ice cream there; he'd thought that he was in heaven. After all...Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia would never have allowed him to have ice cream. Ice cream was a treat, and freaks did not deserve treats.

---------------------

Harry couldn't stop grinning. Of course, part of it had to do with the fact that he was sandwiched in between Fred and George, who kept whispering in his ear, making silly jokes and revealing some of the pranks that they had up their sleeves once they returned to Hogwarts. The other reason that he had a silly grin pasted on his face, was because he was savouring the most delicious banana split that he'd ever had in his life. Well, technically...it was the only Banana Split that he'd ever had in his life, and it tasted heavenly.

Harry had been sure that after the huge meal of burgers and chips that he'd had at "Tastes like Magic", the new wizarding restaurant, that he'd never find room for the large dish of ice cream sitting before him, but although his belly felt like it would explode, he still felt a sense of peace and happiness course through him. Although his future was certainly unstable, and he tried not to think of where he would live next summer, or if Dumbledore would appoint another guardian to be responsible for him during the school year, Harry made a concentrated effort to simply enjoy the moment.

Harry looked up to see that, once again, Snape was off to the side, speaking in hushed tones with Mr. and Mrs. Wesley. Every so often, Mrs Weasley's sympathetic eyes darted over to him. Harry pretended not to notice.

As they headed back to the Leaky Cauldron, Hermione, Ron and Harry trailed behind Snape and the other Weasleys, so that Harry could fill them in on Snape's warning.

"So, Snape told you about Sirius Black?" Ron whispered.

Harry nodded.

"Yeah, he warned me that Sirius Black was after me, but then he said something really strange," Harry said scrunching up his eyebrows.

"What Harry?" Hermione asked.

"He said that I was not to, under any circumstances, go after Sirius Black," Harry said, running a hand through his hair.

Ron's eyes widened in surprise. "What did he mean by that?"

"I don't know. I mean, why the hell would I go after a deranged murderer."

"That is very odd," Hermione said thoughtfully.

"Well, I don't know why Snape would warn you about something like that-" Ron said, as he pulled something round and shiny, that looked like a glass spinning top, out of his trousers' pocket. "-but, I bought this for you; when Mum and Dad weren't looking, I snuck into this new store that sells all sorts of gadgets to protect against Dark Wizards and stuff. Consider it a late birthday present. This way you'll know if you're in danger, and Sirius Black is around," he said, slipping it secretly to Harry. "It's called a Pocket Sneakascope."

"How does it work?" Harry asked curiously.

"Well... you see that dial there?"

Harry nodded.

"Well, that dial will spin around, it'll flash, and make loud noises if there's danger within an inch of where you're standing," Ron explain, eyes as round as saucers.

"Thanks Ron," Harry said gratefully.

"Percy, of course, thinks it's a load of rubbish, because it went off at dinner, for no reason." Ron chuckled. "But what he didn't know is that Fred and George put Beetles in his soup."

Hermione pursed her lips in disapproval, but Harry laughed.

"Yeah, he's been a right, stuck-up prat, since he got his Head-boy badge." Ron rolled his eyes. "Thinks he's bloody important, he does. You'd think that he's got something stuck up his-"

"Ron!"

"Well, it's true Hermione. Ever since he's got the badge, he bosses us all around. He's going to be a nightmare when we get to Hogwarts."

Hermione shook her head, and pointed to the Sneakascope. "Just because you have that Harry, doesn't mean that you can go running about," she said sternly, wagging her finger at him.

Harry ignored a flicker of irritation. She was only trying to help, after all.

He rolled his eyes. "Yes, I realise that Hermione."

Hermione looked at Harry with a wounded expression. "Well, I'm only saying that you have to be extra careful Harry."

Harry felt a wave of guilt. "I'll be careful Hermione...I promise."

Hermione looked relieved.

As soon as they entered the Leaky Cauldron, Snape turned to Harry.

"I believe that it's prudent that you retire for the night Mr. Potter."

Harry's face dropped. "But Sir, it's only nine o'clock, and I'm not tired."

"Be that as it may Potter, we have to be up early, as the Ministry is sending cars to accompany us to Kings Cross."

Mrs. Weasley put an arm gently around his shoulders. "Professor Snape is right dear. You have a big day ahead of you, and you need all the rest you can get," she said kindly. She then turned a stern eye on Ron, Ginny and Hermione.

"You three ought to be getting to bed as well," she said as she shooed them all towards the stairs.

"But mum, we're not little kids," Ron whined.

Mr. Weasley addressed his son with a stern look on his face. "Do NOT speak to your mother like that!"

Ron froze. His mum was usually the disciplinarian in the house, and it was extremely rare that his father interfered, but Ron knew better than to argue with his father when he used that tone of voice.

"Upstairs now!" he said firmly, pointing towards the stairs

Ron blushed at the reprimand, but hurried to obey.

Alone in their room, Snape turned to Harry. "Prepare for bed Mr. Potter," he ordered.

"Yes sir."

With one hand clutching his red flannel pyjamas, and the other clasping the brass doorhandle to the loo, Harry looked up at Snape shyly.

"Sir? I just wanted to- uh, I mean, uh-" he stammered.

Snape rolled his eyes. "Spit it out Potter," he snapped.

Harry blushed. "I just wanted to thank you for everything sir," he said quietly. "I mean, the new clothes, the school supplies, everything..." he trailed off.

Snape nodded stiffly. "That's quite alright Mr. Potter," he said uncomfortably. "Now go get changed," he ordered, " and then...bed."

"Yes sir."

After the boy was soundly sleeping, and safely tucked into his bed; (He had simply made sure that the child was covered up warmly. After all… wouldn't want Potter to catch pneumonia after all the time he'd spent nursing the boy back to health.) Snape went over and stared down at the boy.

What an enigma the boy was. He looked so much like his father, or at least he had. Severus had had to stifle a gasp of shock earlier, when the boy had removed his glasses, and he'd noticed that Potter looked less like his father than he had only a few short weeks ago.

Severus pressed his fingers to his aching temple. The boy was beginning to look less and less like Potter, and more and more like...well, he really wasn't sure. Yes, Potter had Lily's eyes, and he felt a stab of pain shoot through him everytime the child looked at him with those haunted emerald eyes. Severus knew that in the past, he'd reacted badly to those eyes staring back at him from James Potter's face. Mostly by being harsh with the boy. Usually though, he experienced a painful pang of guilt afterwards for having treated Lily's son in such a manner. He'd never let on of course, of his ambiguous feelings about the boy. Better to keep that to himself. But now...being in close proximity to the boy, day in day out; having seen how closely Potter's familial situation resembled his own, Severus couldn't ignore the growing confusion over his feelings for the child.

The boy still looked more fragile, and pale than his classmates. He'd gain some weight, but he still looked as though his scrawny arms could be snapped with little effort. Severus felt a twinge of annoyance with himself that he worried about what would become of the boy, once the term began. Who would be responsible for the boy? Surely the Headmaster would never entertain the notion of sending the boy back to those horrible Muggles? Severus knew that he could never allow that to happen. But, his responsibility for the boy would end soon, and he'd go back to simply being the boy's professor. Severus chose to ignore the small stab of pain that that thought elicited. No...it was better to go back to hating the child. He couldn't afford to think of the boy as anything but an annoying thorn in his side.

Severus forced his gaze away from the sleeping child. He'd never admit it, but he desperately wished that Lily's son was his son. He wished with all his heart that he could turn back the hands of time and change the bad decisions that he'd made. He'd bollicksed every good thing that had ever happened to him, and it all began with a decision that he would regret till his dying day; having pledged his allegiance to the monster that would be responsible for taking away the only woman he'd ever loved.

Severus slipped out of the room quietly, but not before placing a monitoring charm over Harry. He needed a little space to get his thoughts together, but he dared not leave the boy unguarded. The spell that he'd placed over the boy, would cause Severus' wand to glow in the event that the boy was in danger, and a protective shield would prevent any harm coming to Potter. At the very least, it would provide the boy some protection until Severus could return.

-------

"What can I get you Severus?" The burly innkeeper, Tom asked, as he watched the tall, dark man try to find an elegant way to climb up on the high bar stool, while attempting to unfurl his long black robes, which had wrapped itself around the legs of the bar stool.

"Whiskey straight up if you will Tom," Severus replied stiffly.

Tom nodded. It was rare for Severus Snape to come into the bar, but when he did, Tom knew better than to ask any questions.

Of course, the reserved man would never let on that anything was bothering him. Tom knew that Severus Snape was not a man who wore his heart on his sleeve, but one look at the man's face, which looked even more the colour of sour milk, than usual, and simply the fact that the proud man was sitting on a bar stool, sipping on whiskey; a thick layer of smoke swirling through the air, and the stench of drunken wizards assaulted the nostrils, spoke volumes about the man's frame of mind.

Two hours later, Severus unwarded the door to his room, slipped inside and rewarded it against intruders, and tried to convince himself that the strange feeling that washed over him when he saw that Potter was still sleeping peacefully in his bed, where he'd left him, and was safe and sound...was not relief.

-----------------------

Harry's stomach fluttered with both excitement and trepidation as he stared at the back of Snape's billowing robes, his trunk thumping down the steps behind him.

Harry shook his head when he spotted Ron and Hermione, once again facing off and bickering over their pets.

"Whether or not I forgot to lock Scabbers' cage, is besides the point. That cat is a menace...pure and simple."

Hermione glared fiercely at him.

"Your little girlfriend has a point Ronald," Percy said haughtily. "You really need to learn some discipline and responsibility."

Hermione wasn't sure whether to be appalled that Ron's brother had called her his girlfriend, or grateful that he'd taken her side.

Ron scowled at him. "Shut up Percy. Why don't you go shine that little badge of yours again, for the thousandth time."

Percy's hand flew up to his chest, and began clawing at his robes. "Where's my badge?" he screeched. He looked at Ron accusingly. "What did you do with it?"

"I didn't touch your damned badge," Ron retorted hotly.

"Keep your grubby little paws off my possessions," he screamed loudly, as his face flushed a deep crimson.

"I. Told. You. I didn't touch your bloody badge," Ron said through gritted teeth.

Harry was sure that steam would come out of Percy's ears as the boy almost turned purple. He spun around and stomped up the stairs muttering and griping under his breath about how he had to put up with infantile brothers, and the unfairness of it all.

Fred and George began snorting and guffawing loudly.

"We've got his badge," Fred whispered to Harry.

"Yeah, we've been making a few little improvements on it," George grinned.

"We've changed it from Head Boy, to Bighead Boy," Fred sniggered.

Harry tried to stifle a laugh, as he heard Percy stomp back down the stairs, waving his badge in the air, and yelling so loudly that the sound reverberated against the walls of the narrow stairwell.

Fred and George each grabbed Harry and Ron's arms and whisked them off to a dark corner, until they figured it was safe to come out.

Ron's face was contorted into a mixture of a scowl and a grin. "You do realise that he's going to blame me, don't you?"

"Don't worry little Ronniekins." George patted him on the head.

"Yeah, little brother," Fred grinned. "We'll protect you from the big bad Percy."

"I'm serious guys," Ron said worriedly. "He's already accused me of dripping tea on a photo of his girlfriend Penelope Clearwater," he grimaced."Now she's hidden her face under the frame, and won't come out because her nose is all blotchy."

"Potter," a deep voice barked.

Uh oh.

Harry made his way back over to the pile of trunks, and owl cages containing, Harry's owl Hedgewig and Percy's owl, Hermes, to face Snape who had his arms crossed against his chest, and glared down at Harry over the tip of his overly large nose.

"You are not to go wandering off on your own Potter," Snape snarled. "I thought that I made that clear."

Harry felt his face heat up.

"I'm sorry sir," he said, looking down at his shoes.

"Come, the cars are waiting," he said coolly.

Harry nodded.

"Yes... come everyone." Arthur motioned for his children to follow him and Molly.

"Why is the Ministry sending cars father?" Percy asked in a snooty voice.

Snape, Molly and Arthur exchanged a look.

Harry felt his heart flutter again. It was easy to forget the danger he was in, when he was enjoying himself with his friends, but every so often, reality hit him like a sucker punch to the gut, and took his breath away.

"Because your father is now an important Ministry official," she responded in a forced voice.

Percy gave her a disbelieving look, but let the matter drop. He had managed to return his badge back to normal, and sported it proudly on his Hogwarts robes. He made a point of adjusting it. He preened with self-importance, and turned to Ron, Hermione and Ginny.

"Well...we mustn't keep them waiting then...children," he said in a condescending tone.

Ron balled his fists tightly and Harry rolled his eyes.

Yes... this was going to be a very interesting year indeed, Harry thought to himself.

-------

"I am Minister Fudge, and this is Chief Auror Rogers, and we are here on official Ministry business," he announced importantly, as he puffed up his broad chest.

Griphook eyed the rotund man suspiciously. He was not impressed at all.

"And what business would that be?" the goblin asked, a sour look on his face.

Fudge handed him the scroll with the instructions for the Potter's will.

Griphook unfurled the scroll, and his beady eyes scanned back and forth across the page.

"We need access to Potter's vault," Fudge demanded.

Griphook shook his head, making his pointy ears wiggle. "I'm afraid that that is not possible."

Fudge's eyes flashed dangerously. "I order you to open that vault."

Griphook may have only reached the minister's bellybutton, but it was as though he seemed larger then life, as his small, dark eyes smouldered with anger.

"And I'm telling you, that you have no authority here, and I have strict instructions not to open the vault for anyone other than those given permission to do so."

Rogers laid a hand on the Minister's arm to calm him. As an Auror, the man knew when to assert his authority, and when diplomacy was called for...and this was clearly one of those moments when calm reasoning was in order.

"Sir," Rogers said, sensing a respectful tone would have more of an impact here. "Could you please tell us who is authorized access to this vault?"

Rogers held his breath as the goblin appeared to be considering his request.

"I am not at liberty to say."

Rogers gave a warning look to Fudge, when it looked like the man's temper would explode again.

Rogers took a deep breath. "Please sir...this is of the utmost importance," he pleaded.

Griphook remained silent for a moment, and then seemed to come to a decision. He snapped his fingers, and another, smaller, younger goblin immediately appeared at his side.

"Yes sir?"

"Gornuck, get me the name and address of the Barrister responsible for the Potter's vault."

---------

"Is Barrister Von Schmidt expecting you?" A young, pink-haired girl asked, as she blew bright pink bubbles and chomped down on a mouthful of bubblegum.

Fudge became flustered. "I am the Minister of Magic, you empty-head-"

Rodgers stepped in front of the agitated man. He was clearly becoming unhinged when it became apparent that yet another of his lowly subjects failed to yield to his obvious authority and importance.

"Miss?"

"Call me Lola," she said, batting her long, pink eyelashes. He's cute, she thought to herself. Even if he was a little older than her, he was a very distinguished-looking man; with his salt and pepper hair, and sexy blue eyes. She felt a stab of disappointment, when she eyed his wedding ring, but then dismissed the minute detail that the man had a wife, and most probably little ones at home; after all...it's not like she ever let that minor detail stop her before.

Rogers took a deep breath. "Lola...would you be so kind as to let Barrister Von Schmidt know that we are here. This is very important Ministry business."

Lola rose, and smoothed down her very short mini skirt, and leant over the desk; her low cut bodice, revealing her very large bosom.

Rogers felt his face warm up.

"Of course, Mr.-"

He licked his dry lips. "Wayne. Uh-, Auror Wayne Rodgers, and Minister Cornelius Fudge."

"Ooh...you're an Auror. You must be so brave," she oozed, as she batted her eyelids again.

She smiled sweetly at him, and he couldn't concentrate on anything but the way her bottom wiggled with her skin tight skirt, as she walked away.

"Sir...Auror Wayne Rodgers here to see you. He says he's here on important Ministry business."

"Send him right in Lola."

Fudge glared at Rodgers. This was the second time he'd been all but ignored today, and he didn't like it one bit.

"Maybe you'd better have a cold shower," he sneered.

Rodgers flushed.

"Minister Fudge," a deep baritone voice exclaimed.

A very large man with grey hair and friendly blue eyes, who was so tall that both men had to crane their necks back, came around from his desk and came to tower over them both in his long, dark robes.

"Lola didn't tell me that you were here as well, Minister."

That's not surprising, Wayne thought caustically.

"And you are Auror Rodgers, I assume?" the big man inquired, offering his hand.

"Yes sir," Wayne replied, and grimaced as the large man grasped his hand in a painful handshake.

"Call me John," he said with a smile.

"Have a seat," he said, motioning towards two comfortable arm chairs, and sat down behind his desk. He laced his large fingers together and looked inquiringly at Fudge and Rodgers.

"So...what can I do for you two gentlemen?"

Fudge leant forward and handed John the scroll. "We understand that you may be able to help us with this."

John's eyes widened as he read the scroll. "How did you obtain this?" he whispered.

"Godric's Hollow," Rodgers replied.

The large man cleared his throat, and Wayne could see that he was visibly shaken. "I see."

"Along with a locked metal box," Rodgers added. "That we haven't been able to open."

"So..." the Minister leant forward in his seat. "Can you help us? We need to access the Potter's vault."

John looked at them with a stunned expression. "I'm afraid that is impossible Minister. Only the persons specifically named in the will may open the vault, or be privy to the contents of the will. And all parties must be present at, not only the reading of the will, but the spell used to access the vault is based on a complex, ancient blood magic that requires the blood of the three persons specified. If even one party's blood is absent, then the vault will not open."

Fudge balled his fists in frustration. "So what is the problem then? Notify the parties involved and be done with it," he snapped. "Why have you not done so already? The Potters have been dead for twelve years."

"Who are these three parties anyway?" Wayne asked curiously.

John remained silent for a moment, and then replied in a voice so quiet, that Rodgers and Fudge, almost didn't hear him, when he replied.

"Severus Snape, Sirius Black and Harry Potter."

You could hear a pin drop, and then Fudge jumped up from his seat.

"You are actually telling me that James and Lily Potter have named a convicted killer and a Death Eater in their will?" He asked incredulously.

"Are you sure about this?" Rodgers asked.

"There are actually two more named in the will, but yes...Severus Snape and Sirius Black, along with Harry Potter, are crucial to opening the vault, and revealing the entire contents of the will."

"This doesn't make any sense. James and Lily were not close friends with Snape; as a matter of fact...Potter loathed the man, and the feeling was mutual. Why in Merlin's name, would they name him in their will? And Sirius Black? This is impossible. He's a convicted killer, a fugitive from the law..." Fudge screeched.

"And so you see my dilemma gentlemen," John said, spreading his hands out berfore him. "The opening of the vault rests upon the shoulders of a maniacal serial murderer who is on the lam..."