Two days later arriving at his detention, Harry glanced at Lockhart. Why couldn't he have had detention with Filch? It would have been so much better than this torture, answering Lockhart's fan mail. Harry sighed, shaking his head.

"I'm here for my detention, sir."

"Ah, Harry, there you are. Wonderful. Just wonderful." Lockhart's smile widened as he quickly placed a hand on Harry's shoulder.

Harry frowned. Just what exactly was wonderful? He decided to ignore it, though.

"Sir, before I start, um, well, I'm sorry about lying earlier and being disrespectful to you."

"No matter. Cast it out of your mind, dear boy." Lockhart chuckled, steering Harry towards a large oversized chair. "I understand perfectly. Not used to the fame like I am. No worries of course. I'll just have to help you along."

"Uh, sir, I—"

"Shh. It's all right. I understand." Lockhart's smile widened as he pushed Harry into the chair. "Tea? It's my special blend."

"No thank you, Professor," Harry quietly replied. He glanced around the room, noticing Lockhart's fan mail on the desk on the other side of the room. Wasn't he here to answer fan mail?

"Please, Harry. I insist."

Harry finally nodded, grabbing the cup. However, when he brought the cup to his lips, he made sure not to take a sip. He didn't like the look on Lockhart's face. It reminded him too much of his uncle. A part of Harry in fact felt like running from the man.

"It's good," Harry lied.

"Excellent. You just sit here and drink your tea now. No need to overwork a celebrity like you."

Harry felt extremely uneasy currently. There was something off about the other man. He couldn't explain it, but something didn't sit right with Harry. He, however, followed Lockhart's orders, watching the man out of the corner of his eye walk back to his desk to work on signing autographs.

So, with Lockhart far away at his desk and Harry in the oversized chair in front of the fireplace, silence settled around them. Harry continued to fake drinking his tea as he waited for whatever it was that Lockhart was.

"Oh, Sarah," muttered Lockhart, his attention having been on autographing for hours now. "How I shall remember you forever." Lockhart then was silent again as a clock rang out that it was midnight.

Harry watched him out of the corner of his eye nervously before relaxing slightly. His instincts had to be wrong. Lockhart hadn't moved in four hours. The man was just being nice. That was all.

The young boy's then started to wander to earlier in the day. Malfoy had seemed extremely subdued when the Slytherin Quidditch team arrogantly walked onto the field like they owned it. A part of Harry felt betrayed by his father giving them permission to practice during their slot, but he knew it was just business. Nothing personal against him. Like retaliation for Harry disappointing him. At least he was pretty certain that wasn't the case. His dad didn't seem to be like his uncle.

Malfoy the new Seeker! Unbelievable. And what was more was that he had clearly bribed his way onto the team. Or at the very least the blonde's father had with the generous donation of new brooms for the team. Harry frowned. He didn't like this. He didn't like it one bit.

"Come . . . come to me," a cold voice hissed.

Harry's whole body tensed at the sound of the deadly voice. He drew in a shaky breath, glancing at Lockhart. The professor, however, was still busy with his autographs, seeming not to hear the voice.

"Let me rip you. Let me tear you. Let me kill you," echoed the sinister voice.

Without a second of hesitation, Harry stood up, the cup clattering to the floor. He could feel the fear rising and clenching around him. He then did the first thing he could think of. He fled. As fast as he could, he ran far away from Lockhart who had glanced up with a confused look.

Harry didn't care if his father did yell at him over this. He couldn't be in that office another moment. He rushed down the moving staircases, panic driving his every movement. He wanted his dad. He wanted to feel safe. He continued sprinting for the dungeons, running into someone soon after.

"Mum?" he gasped at seeing the witch, nearly sobbing into the woman's chest a moment later.

~FKTF~

Meanwhile in the dungeons, Snape was fast asleep, having been forced by Pomfrey to take another Dreamless Sleep potion. He saw the familiar reoccurring nightmare's start and used every bit of his Occlumency to push it aside. He didn't want to hear Sinistra's declaration of love anymore. It only made him feel worse inside, more conflicted for some reason.

So, pushing his reoccurring nightmare with every bit of strength from his mind, he inhaled deeply in hopes that he'd dream something better, more pleasant. Oh, honestly, whom was he kidding? He wouldn't know pleasant if it bit him in the arse anymore. All he had ever known, had experienced, was pain and heartbreak in his life. Even with Lily if he was honest.

Soft laughter suddenly surrounded him then. The mist slowly started to clear, gradually allowing him to see his dreamscape. He recognized his son's high pitched laughs instantly.

"Mum, stop," the boy cried happily from the sofa as an unknown laughing woman unmercifully tickled the young boy.

Snape chuckled as he took several steps towards them. Lily. Now, this was a dream he could get used to having repeat. He knew that it was only a matter of time before the mist completely vanished and allowed him to see his lost love tickling their son.

Only when the mist was gone, Snape stopped in his tracks. His breath caught in his throat. It wasn't Lily as he had assumed. It was her. Sinistra. He felt his gut clench in reaction. Sinistra was the woman Harry had called 'Mum.' Sinistra was the one that had Harry laughing as she tickled him.

"No. This isn't right," he whispered. "It should be Lily."

He heard a scoff beside him, causing him to turn towards the sound. There, standing next to him, was Lily in white robes. She stared back at him, shaking her head.

"It should be you, Lily. Not Sinistra. I love you."

"Lies," she flatly replied.

"No. It's not lies. I love you, Lily!"

"If you had truly loved me, Sev, you'd have chosen me over the Dark Arts." Her green eyes slowly moved to their son. "He looks happy, doesn't he?"

"This isn't right."

"She would make you happy, Sev."

"She's not you, Lily! You are the only woman I will ever love. No other!"

"More lies," the redheaded witch said softly.

"I'm not lying dammit! I love you, Lily! Only you!"

"Quit lying to yourself, Sev."

"I'm not lying!" he roared, clenching his fists.

"Shall we, then?"

His eyes narrowed in confusion. Should they what? He was about to ask when he saw everything phase in then out. He drew in a breath at the sight in front of him. He couldn't believe his eyes.

"Lies," he whispered with a shaky breath.

"No. For once, it's the truth. And you know it." Lily looked on impassively as numerous memories of him and Sinistra flashed in front of them like a Muggle film.

He closed his eyes to escape, only to see the memories continue behind his eyes. He sighed, drawing in another shaky breath. He watched the memory of him and Sinistra dueling. She was wickedly fast, not stopping when he had disarmed her like so many other witches would have done. He watched her apologize softly and help him up after she had knocked him down. He drew in quick breath as another memory flickered past. This time she had fallen into his arms, her heel on her boot having unfortunately broken. Another memory—her removing a leaf from his hair gently during a Quidditch match with a kind look in her warm brown eyes. He trembled as the memories continued. He felt something break inside when he saw the memory from long ago—of her healing him without magic.

"No, Lily," he whispered with a shaky breath. "I-I love you." He did . . . didn't he?

"I showed you kindness when the world only gave you pain, Sev. You're realizing it now. That what you feel for me is diminishing. You falling for her is not a betrayal, though. She forgives when I could not. She loves when I could not. Stop lying to yourself and let me go. Forgive yourself. Live and be happy, Sev. That is a much better gift to me than to allow yourself to be swallowed by your pain."

"If I . . . You're the one, Lily. Only you."

"No, Sev. Not me." Her eyes filled with sadness before she sighed. "Stop punishing yourself."

"I told the Dark—"

"Even if it had been someone else who had died in my place, I'd not have left James. You know this in your heart, Severus. I loved him. Not you." She glanced back at the memories still flashing. "You fight it because you fear your happiness will be taken from you again. That the world will shroud you in pain once more. Do not live your life in fear, Severus. Do not be the coward you are making yourself be. She can be a strength to you. As she has been from the start."

"Lily, I-I please," he begged, swallowing harshly. "I . . . no."

He watched a memory of Aurora laughing before she playfully pushed him away as she shook her head at something he had said.

"Stop fighting your heart. This will only get worse if you do not."

"Then I won't sleep."

"Your soul needs this, Sev. It needs you to move on. To be the man you were destined to be."

"Not her! You, Lily! I need you!"

"Then cast your Patronus, Sev." Lily gave him a soft smile. "See the truth of your love."

"It is with you. Always."

She slowly faded as the dream did the same. He sat up gasping instantly. He pressed a hand to his chest, inhaling deeply trying to catch his breath. It would be a doe. As it always was. His love for Lily ran that deep. Sinistra was just a momentary fleeting distraction. Whatever conflicted feelings he had for his colleague would disappear soon enough, and his love for Lily would remain.

Snape grabbed his wand from his nightstand. Lily was wrong. Likely a part of his subconscious that was trying to convince him with lies. He didn't love Sinistra. Lily was the only one he'd ever love.

"Expecto Patronum," he cast, thinking of his night with Lily. His wand clattered to the floor a moment later. "No . . ."

~FKTF~

Now in the Astronomy tower hidden from view, Harry hiccupped as he wiped the tears from his eyes. He was still curled up against the curly-haired witch, but he didn't care how it looked. So far she hadn't pushed him away. In fact, she held him as he sobbed, whispering soothing things to him to calm him—further cementing his belief that she'd be a wonderful mum even if she wasn't really his.

"Sorry," the young boy whispered, rubbing his nose on his sleeve.

She only smiled softly at him. "Don't. It's okay, love. Let's send your dad an owl, though. So he knows you're up here with me, okay?"

He hiccupped once more before he nodded. He watched her tie the message to an owl's leg prior to sending the owl off. So many questions were going through his mind.

"What is it, Harry?"

"Um, well, why'd we come here? Why didn't we go to Dad's?"

"Your father's been neglecting his sleep lately, so Madam Pomfrey ordered him to take a sleeping potion and rest." His eyes narrowed on her. She laughed softly. "You're wondering how I know this, aren't you?" He nodded slowly, which she only smiled in response still holding him gently. "The Bloody Baron or sometimes even Salazar tell me whenever Severus is incapacitated. It's so I can take Severus's Head of House duties for him."

"Oh. Okay." He then glanced down at his hands sadly. The troubling thoughts bubbled up in him again. He could still hear the voice, the anger and hatred in it.

"You think you can tell me what that was all about now, though, love?"

Harry swallowed. "Um, well, I was in detention. With Lockhart. I sort of lied to him and disrespected him earlier." He was very quiet in his answer, but she seemed to still hear him. "I was supposed to answer his fan mail, but he didn't let me. Gave me a cup of tea." Harry's words were starting to run together as the words quickly flowed out of his mouth. "I didn't drink it, though, because I had a bad feeling. And then I heard this voice. It wanted to kill. And I . . . I left. I didn't want to be there anymore. I just wanted to be with Dad and you . . . and feel safe again." His tears fell once more.

"Shh. It's all right, love." She rubbed his back gently and kissed the top of his head. "You're safe. I promise."

He cried, burying his face into her neck as he held onto her tightly. It was so easy for the boy to believe that she was his mother, that his birth mother never existed. Granted, he had come some ways with his thoughts about his birth mother. He didn't think she was such a cold-hearted bitch anymore. But that didn't mean he was totally accepting of his birth mother. Unlike his father, he saw his birth mother's flaws. He sniffled, hiccupping again.

"Sweetheart, now this is important." She rubbed his back gently. "Did Lockhart hurt you?"

"No. He just kept signing his autographs. But I heard the voice. I think it was him. I think he wanted to kill me. Like Quirrell last year."

"What?"

"I think Lockhart was going to kill me like Quirrell tried last year. We should see if he's got . . . you know . . ." Harry then thought of something and grabbed her upper arms in pure panic. "Mum, stay away from him! He'll try to take you away from us again."

"Easy, Harry. It's okay." She stared at him with a puzzled look. "Listen to me. We're safe right now. It's just you and me. And when your dad wakes up, he'll come up here and we'll all be here together. Safe. Everything's all right. Okay?"

Harry trembled slightly before he nodded jerkily. He knew that he was being a bit of a baby, needing to hear her reassurances, but it had just been last year that his luck started to turn around. He had something close to a family now. A dad who loved him. A mum who was there. He wasn't a house elf anymore. He wasn't considered a freak. He was loved and cared for and wasn't alone anymore.

The young boy buried his face in her neck again, hugging her tightly. He felt safe with her. Like he did with his dad. He bit his bottom lip and glanced up at her. Why couldn't his dad see how perfect she was for them? She could heal them, make them feel whole again. All his dad needed to do was let her in as Harry had.

"Shh," she whispered, rubbing his back gently. "It'll be okay, love. I promise." He believed her.

~FKTF~

Snape had finished his second glass of Firewhiskey when Sinistra's owl arrived. He frowned at its appearance, but quickly snatched the message from the owl's leg. His eyes skimmed the note before he tossed it aside. He threw a shirt on then his robes, whirling around to leave a moment later.

Had he spent more time thinking, he might have decided to arrive by Floo. His mind, however, was a muddled mess. And not just because of the alcohol he had drank earlier. He rushed up the stairs to leave the dungeons, rushing towards the Astronomy tower.

How could this have happened? How could he have— It was Lily. Always. He loved her so deeply that she had become engrained in every aspect of his life. He lived his life for her, and only her. He didn't matter anymore. Only her, his beautiful Lily. He would carry on loving her, being with only her, to show her how much he loved her, show her that he was so sorry for being the reason she died.

Snape grabbed the railing suddenly, his knuckles turning ivory as he gripped it hard. He could feel himself trembling slightly from the emotional storm ragging inside him. It had to be a lie. Lily was perfect. Lily was the one he belonged with. No other woman could compete with her. His heart lay with her, only her. No other. He closed his eyes, pushing back his emotions. Weak. Pathetic. Coward.

It meant nothing. Lies. That was all it was. Lies. He loved Lily. Aurora was a distraction. A temptress meant to sway him, to test him. He'd prove to Lily that he loved— He drew in a shaky breath.

"Shh, Severus," the ghostly whisper of a voice whispered, yet he knew no one was there on the staircases with him. "I have you. You're safe now. I promise."

The memory flashed before his eyes once more. Aurora. He shook his head violently to rid himself of it. He didn't want to remember that night, the night he lost Lily. He didn't want to remember his weakness he showed Aurora. His mind just didn't obey, though. He could recall the feel of the witch's arms as she held him while he openly wept against her. Weak. Pathetic. Coward. Murderer.

His hand slammed down onto the railing once more, the pain jolting Snape from the memory instantly. He quickly rushed up the remaining stairs with renewed vigor.

Hidden from Snape's view, a shadowed figure smirked as they looked on, watching Snape disappear soon after behind a door.

"Fascinating," the figure whispered before leaving as well.

Snape, however, continued, sprinting up the steep spiral staircase that led to the Astronomy tower. He took the steps two at a time. His lungs hurt from his brisk running, but he pushed forward. Several minutes later, he found himself standing in front of Circe's portrait that guarded Aurora's rooms. He glared at the beautiful witch. Circe only opened with a faint smile tugging at her lips.

Snape walked in and stopped in the doorway. His eyes passed over the two on the sofa. Aurora was holding Harry against her like any mother would do to calm her child. They seemed so peaceful in fact. Snape drew in a slow breath, walking towards them silently.

He watched them for several moments as they slept, unable to speak. Such a simple act of kindness. How could it mean so much?

At the sight of seeing his son slowly lift his head, Snape gave Harry a faint smile. He could see the sleepiness in his son's eyes. He then watched the young boy gently shake the sleeping witch awake.

"Mum?"

Snape should have corrected his son. All three of them knew she wasn't his mother. She could hold the boy close, treat him like he was her son, but she wasn't his mother. Lily was. But Snape didn't correct Harry. He hadn't corrected his son in awhile he noted. He hadn't even talked to the boy about it like he had planned before they arrived at Hogwarts. Why hadn't he? Had it been a sign he simply overlooked in his attempt to continue to prove he loved only Lily, an attempt to lie to himself further?

"Dad's here," the twelve-year-old quietly said.

"Hmm." Aurora then glanced up at him, meeting Snape's obsidian eyes with a sleepy look. A few of her curls stuck up. "Sorry. We must have dozed off at some point." She yawned quietly before lightly tapping Harry's shoulder to motion him to sit up and quickly doing the same thing herself.

Snape continued to staring at her, though. Was it love that he felt for her? No. Caring and the strong urge to protect her, yes, but not love. Not yet at least. His feelings were definitely growing for her he noted. He swallowed slowly. He was falling in love with her.

~FKTF~

Three days later, a brown-haired man walked down an empty street. His blue eyes wandered to the park, watching a young boy play. He drew his tattered tan coat further around himself and chuckled.

He had always wanted kids. So when he learned that his wife was pregnant with their son, he couldn't have been happier. His happiness was short lived, though. The tattooed bastards saw to that.

He frowned, kicking a loose rock as he headed into an alley. Where was his wife? What had happened to her? Had they killed her? A part of him wanted to ask his son. But from what he had gathered from the Potter boy, that would be a horrendous disaster.

Without proof of his claims, Severus wouldn't believe him for a moment. He'd think it was just another trick. The man sighed, shaking his head. Life was bitch sometimes. Truly.

At the sound of a scream, the man's head jerked up. He glanced back towards the boy and growled inwardly. Them again. Couldn't the bastards leave people alone?

"Find her!" shouted one of the burly hooded men to a small group of black robed wizards.

The man watched the four dark wizards quickly burst into homes, searching them. He thrust his hand into his pockets, grabbing the wand caked with dirt and drawing it. When his blue eyes noticed one of the men head towards the boy who had screamed, he slashed his wand across the air and snarled his curse. He sneered when the dark robed man whirled around and blocked his curse.

"Pathetic, wizard. Truly p—" The words died on the dark robed wizard's mouth, then.

"Ain't no one here pathetic but yerself," the man growled. More curses headed at the dark wizard's friends as they walked out. His wand slashed through the air as he hissed his curses with pure venom. One by one, each of the dark wizards fell to the ground as a tangled bloodied mess. He growled when the last dark wizard came out with a woman against himself as a shield. "Let. Her. Go. Now!" The dark wizard only chuckled at him. That was until he found himself struck by a Stunner to the back. "Rule number ten, bastard. Never turn yer back on yer enemy." The man then shook his head, yanking the stunned dark wizard up. "I'll leave ya to Dumbledore. Bet he'd love to get his hands on ya." He Disapparated with the dark wizard a moment later.