Stay Free

Chapter 7: Two Dreams and a Couple of Flashbacks

"I don't think I'm going to like Apparating," Harry muttered as he picked himself up off the ground.

"You get used to it after awhile," Remus said kindly, helping him steady his feet. "Ready to go inside?"

Harry nodded eagerly as a popping sound announced Snape's presence outside of Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place. "I just want to eat, drink, and go to sleep," Harry said to the werewolf, who smiled. Snape snorted and looked away.

"That's just what we'll do," Remus said, and he opened the door. Harry walked in first, stumbling slightly on his broken ankle. He headed straight for the kitchen, his stomach bellowing Feed me, Harry!

The sight Harry met in the kitchen confused him to a high extent. Draco Malfoy was sitting at the table, eating off a plate of mashed potatoes. He looked up when he saw Harry come in, and nodded in greeting before returning to his meal.

"What the hell are you doing here?" Harry exclaimed, trying not to yell so he wouldn't awake anyone else. He looked at Remus and Snape, his expression demanding an explanation.

Both men sighed. "While you were at the Dursleys, Harry, all the Death Eaters broke out of Azkaban," Remus explained. "Draco has been living at Malfoy Manor all summer by himself, because his mother--"

"Is in St. Mungo's," Harry finished. "Yeah, I know."

"Yes, and Severus here"--Remus jerked his head at Snape--"told us that at the Death Eater meeting right after the break out, Lucius swore that he would kill his son."

"I told Dumbledore of this," Snape continued, "and he went to go get Draco from Malfoy Manor before it was too late, and brought him here."

"But--does he know--" Harry began, and Remus nodded.

"Yes, Harry, Draco knows about the Order."

"And if I can convince my father that I'm loyal to him, I'll be in it," Malfoy said quietly. "Dumbledore needs more spies in the inner circle."

"This doesn't make any sense," Harry said through gritted teeth. He felt his muscles tense, and curled his hands into fists, felt the nails dig into his palms. "He can be in the Order, but I can't?"

No one said anything after that. Remus looked nervous, and Snape's expression had hardened. Malfoy looked merely bored.

"Potter, I know you don't like having Draco beat you in anything," Snape said, his tone almost gentle. Harry saw his eyes flicking to the stairs as he spoke. No, he wasn't being kind, he just didn't want to awake anybody, Harry thought dejectedly. "But Dumbledore doesn't want you in the Order."

"He doesn't think that you will be able to handle it," Remus added quietly.

Harry's hands twisted into fists in anger, his muscles tensing. His scar burst open in pain, sending bits of electricity to his wounds and pulling them open. He opened his mouth to say something that would probably be considered obnoxious, but suddenly, he was gone from the kitchen of Grimmauld Place, he was bound to a creature with red eyes like when Dumbledore had fought Voldemort in the Ministry of Magic--

"Dumbledore is an old fool," the creature hissed, and Harry spoke as well, their jaws moving in pain. "He doesn't know who I am or what I want. He's a simple-minded, idiotic, fool--"

Shocked at the words that were coming out of his mouth, Harry pushed against the bonds of the red-eyed creature. It cackled shrilly, saying, "Don't bother fighting against me, Harry Potter."

"Dumbledore's not a fool," Harry choked, the muscles in his jaw aching as he spoke. "He just wants me to be alive--"

The creature laughed again, and said in a whisper that made the hairs on the back of Harry's neck stand up, "Soon, Harry Potter, you will fall with Lord Voldemort. If I die, you will die with me..."

Harry sunk into the creature's grasp. It laughed again, and let go of the coils. Harry fell through the endless space for what felt like hours, the air slapping him the face until he hit the ground with a painful thud--

"Harry!"

He snapped open his eyes to meet Remus Lupin, who was kneeling beside him on the floor and looking very worried. Snape and Malfoy were standing on the other side of him, their faces white.

"What happened?" Harry muttered. What's wrong with me? he added to himself. Remus helped him sit up, allowing Harry to rest against his hand.

"You said something about Dumbledore being an old fool," Malfoy explained, his uninterested expression turned frightened. "Then you started arguing with yourself. And then you passed out. You tend to do that a lot, don't you, Potter?"

Harry let out a howl as his scar shot more white-hot pain through his body, and he clapped a hand to his forehead. "It hurts..." he moaned, withdrawing his hand. He looked down on it, and was shocked to see blood dripping between his fingers.

"Potter, do you feel all right?" Snape demanded in a hushed tone. He withdrew his wand and tapped it against Harry's scar, murmuring a few words under his breath. Harry felt a slight tingle as the wound healed, but he could still feel the blood on his forehead. Did Snape just...heal me?

"Do I look all right?" Harry snapped. He drew his knees to his chest and resting his chin on them. "My scar has started bleeding for no apparent reason and I think Voldemort just tried to possess me again."

"Again?" Snape inquired.

"It's happened before..." Harry shivered as the creature's laugh echoed in his mind. "At the Ministry of Magic last year. When Dumbledore was fighting Voldemort."

"What happens when Voldemort tries to posses you?" Remus asked. His eyes were wide in fear, and his fingers were digging into Harry's back sharply. "Jesus, Dumbledore never told me about this!"

"I didn't know, either," Snape muttered.

"Neither did I," Malfoy offered mockingly. "If that helps any."

"Keep your mouth shut," Snape snapped. "Potter, answer Lupin's question."

"I'm gone from wherever I am, and tied to some creature that has red eyes," Harry explained. "That's Voldemort, I think. And it hurts. A lot. Especially when I try to talk. And when it talks, I talk. Same thing the other way around." Harry wiped the blood off his forehead before continuing. "Just now, I tried to stop talking while it did, and it laughed and said I shouldn't even bother trying...And then it said that I would die with Voldemort."

"Fuck," Remus responded, and he stood up. It caused Harry to nearly fall backwards at the absence of the supporting hand. "I'm getting Dumbledore. Now. Severus, is he still at Hogwarts?"

Snape nodded. "Should be asleep."

"I don't care," Remus said harshly. "Harry has just been possessed by Voldemort in a house that's supposed to be safe."

He pulled his cloak tight around him, and strode up the stairs. After he left, Malfoy let out a low whistle. "He's really mad."

"Remus Lupin has a lot of things to be mad about these days," Snape replied, and he looked at Harry critically. "Potter, has anything like this been happening during the summer?"

Harry shook his head, biting his lip as his scar burned again.

"Have you felt any emotions that don't feel normal?" Snape asked. "And please don't make me explain the birds and bees," he added with a look of disgust.

Harry let a weak laugh escape his dry throat. "No odd emotions, no."

"Have you felt any strange urges?" Snape continued. "Things you don't usually feel?"

Harry started to shake his head, then paused.

"Yes..." he said slowly, and Snape nodded for him to finish. "Now that you mention it...When Dudley's gang was beating up Mark"--Snape's calm expression flickered slightly at the mention of his son's name--"I felt like I wanted to strangle Gordon--that's one of Dudley's friends--and I had really long, white fingers, and in my mind, I watched him die, left dead on the sidewalk."

"Go on."

"And...when we were practicing Occlumency, I felt really powerful, like I could take on anything. And I had suddenly mastered Occlumency with no effort. I just felt really powerful and energized."

"Anything else?"

Harry shrugged. "Once in awhile, when I get really angry, I feel my hands curl into fists without realizing it, and sometimes I feel like killing people with my bare hands, or biting them with fangs--"

"That's enough," Snape interrupted. "Potter, you know that your scar connects you to the Dark Lord?"

"Yes," Harry answered. Malfoy listened intently, which made Harry worry. He knew Snape probably trusted the other boy, but there was a war coming. They didn't need Voldemort to know their secrets.

"You are taking on his traits, I believe. He is a superb Occlumens, he has long, white fingers, and when he was not practicing the Dark Arts, he specialized in strangling his victims. And there is Nagini, his snake, which explains the fangs. As he prefers to possess Nagini instead of going out in public, that would explain the connection between you and the snake."

Harry choked. "Do you mean to say that--"

"When he tried to kill you as a baby," Snape continued, ignoring Harry, "he accidentally put some of his powers into you. The ability to speak Parseltongue, many of Slytherin's qualities--"

"Dumbledore told me this in my second year," Harry cut in.

Snape nodded. "Very well. You understand?"

"No," Harry said in a defeated voice. "I know that we share each other's thoughts sometimes, but why am I taking on his traits? Is he taking in any of mine?"

"Not that I know of," Snape said thoughtfully. "But, then again, he is as skilled at Occlumency as he is at Legilimency. He can hide his emotions and feelings, whether they're coming from himself or you."

"I don't want to think about it anymore," Harry groaned. "It makes my head hurt."

"Then go to bed." Snape stood up to signal the end of the conversation.

"Do I have a room?" Harry asked as the banging continued in his head. He grabbed the counter to steady himself.

Snape looked at Malfoy for help. "Does he?"

"He was supposed to share with Weasley," Malfoy answered, "but the twins are in there because there's an infestation of some insect in their room. I don't think there are many others that are suitable for living. Most of them are occupied."

"They're still cleaning?" Harry said in disbelief. "It's been over a year!"

"This house hasn't been properly lived in for a long time," Snape reminded him. "Black didn't clean it much after the summer. And the house-elf did nothing."

"Except blab secrets about the Order to his mother," said Harry coldly, jerking his head at Malfoy, who flinched.

"Potter, you can take Draco's room," Snape ordered. Malfoy choked.

"What do you mean, he can take my room?" Malfoy argued. With his arms crossed defiantly and all but permanent sneer, he looked as though he was going to challenge Snape's word.

"This is Potter's house," Snape reminded him. He, too, folded his arms across his chest and matched Malfoy's glare. The other boy dropped his arms to his sides reluctantly, and nearly pouted.

"It's my room!" Malfoy whined, sounding surprisingly like Dudley.

"Stop acting like such a spoiled brat," said Snape sternly, his voice cruel and unconcerned. Yet, behind the harshness of it, there was a little bit of compassion. Probably because Malfoy was a Slytherin.

"I'm not spoiled!" Malfoy retorted angrily. "It's my--"

"You aren't going to get everything you like here," Snape cut in. He pointed a finger at Malfoy on every other word. "Understand me?"

Malfoy hung his head in defeat. "Yes, sir."

"Good. Potter, go to sleep. Now."

"Don't bleed on anything," Malfoy added.

Harry snorted, and turned to the stairs. He shut the door and began walking up the stairs. Hearing Snape's voice, he stopped and listened.

"Draco, that was the worst display of humanity I've ever seen," Snape was saying.

"Sorry," Malfoy mumbled. There was the sound of shuffling feet, then, "Jesus Christ. I think I'm going to be sick."

"The issue of being possessed?" Snape said. Harry strained his ears to listen harder.

"Yeah, and the fact that his mad relatives were abusing him. I mean, I knew that they didn't treat him well, but I didn't know it was that bad. I'm starting to regret the comments I made."

There was a pause, then, "I'm going to go make sure he goes to sleep. Finish your supper, and then go to sleep. Don't touch anything in this house that looks suspicious."

Faint footsteps reached Harry's ears. He slipped up the rest of the stairs as quickly and quietly as he could, hoping that they didn't hear him.

He had just settled into his room when Snape walked through the doorway. Harry immediately shut his eyes, pretending to be asleep.

There was a snort. "Potter, for one who has the beginnings of true Occlumency skills, you're a terrible actor."

Harry opened his eyes into slits. Snape was leaning against the doorframe, his arms crossed across his chest. "Am I that bad?"

"Yes," Snape replied. "And you're not very good at walking quietly, either."

"I couldn't help but listen," Harry confessed, sitting up. He let his body rest against the headboard.

Snape pulled a small vial out of his pocket, and dangled it in the air. "Need a Sleeping Potion?"

Harry nodded, and Snape tossed the bottle to him. He caught it easily, uncorked it, and threw the contents down his throat. He coughed at the spicy taste, and sank back down into the pillows.

Harry dreamed that he was sitting in a McDonalds with Luna and Ginny. They were both sitting across from him with their arms crossed, looking angrier than he had ever seen them. Harry offered Luna a bite of his hamburger, but she thrust her nose into the air and looked somewhere over his shoulder. Sighing, Harry handed the hamburger to Ginny, who was avoiding his eyes. Slyly, Ginny took the hamburger with a strange glint in her eye. But just as Ginny bit into the hamburger, the dream changed...

Harry was standing in the middle of white mist. He peered through it, but all he could see was white, even below his feet. He walked forward, but there was still nothing.

"Harry."

He jerked his head up at the sound of his name, but Harry couldn't see anything. The mist began to move slightly, and he realized that someone was walking through it. An arm appeared, hidden by a pair of worn robes, then two legs, a torso, and then--

"Sirius!" Harry gasped as his godfather stepped through the mist. He ran forward and flung his arms around Sirius's shoulders. Sirius returned the hug warmly, and Harry backed away slowly.

"But you're dead," Harry said, looking up at Sirius's once-handsome face. "How can I see you if you're dead? Nick told me that you weren't going to come back as a ghost--"

"Harry," said Sirius gently, "I'm not real."

"Well, I know that," Harry replied. "I saw you die. Bellatrix hit you with a Stunning Spell, and you went through the veil--"

"Harry, I don't have much time," Sirius interrupted. Harry shut his mouth, and Sirius continued, "Yes, I am truly dead, though not by a Stunning Spell. The Ministry developed that veil, before they thought of using Dementors for the death penalty. The Veil of Death isn't used anymore, nor is the Death Chamber it was in."

"Then how come I'm talking to you?" Harry asked. "Is this just some figment of my imagination? Is Voldemort fiddling with my mind again?"

Sirius shook his head. "People aren't supposed to know what happens when you die, so I can't tell you much. But what I can tell you is that no, I'm not coming back as a ghost. Once you do, you can never go back...and I wished to see Lily and James again."

"I understand that," said Harry. "But why are you here?"

Sirius sighed heavily. "Because I wanted to see you. It took me awhile to figure out ways I could visit the living. I went to Remus's dreams a couple nights ago."

"Why didn't he tell me?" asked Harry sulkily.

Sirius shrugged. "He probably thought it was just a dream. That's Remus, though. Won't believe anything unless it's a proven fact. But anyway, Harry, I miss you terribly."

"I miss you, too," Harry said, blinking away a tear. "Why did you have to die?"

Sirius gave a bark-like laugh. "Blame it on my Divination Professor. He predicted I would die before my fortieth birthday. He was right. I'm thirty-seven."

"You should have lived double that," Harry said fiercely. "It's not fair that you had to die and Voldemort still lives."

Sirius smiled faintly. "I know. And Wormtail still lives as the people's hero, the one who stood up to big, nasty, Sirius Black."

"Actually," Harry said eagerly, "there was a trial last week, to prove your innocence. Madam Bones led it, and I was one of the witnesses--oh, who cares about that--you're innocent!"

Sirius grasped Harry's shoulders. "You're telling the truth, Harry?"

"Yes," Harry said, nodding. Sirius's face split into a grin, and he actually jumped up in glee.

"Yes!" Sirius exclaimed, pumping his fist into the air. "That rat will finally be brought to where he belongs! Do you think it's still legal to burn people at the stake?"

Harry watched with amusement as Sirius danced around in a circle, his feet kicking up the white mist.

"Sirius," Harry began as Sirius's victory dance slowly died down, "what happens when you die?"

Sirius slowly turned around to face Harry. "Whatever you wish," he said quietly. "If you believe in Heaven and Hell, then there is one for you. If you believe there is a God, then He will be waiting for you. If you don't believe in any sort of religion, then it's simply a place to rest and catch up with all your dead friends."

"The Dursleys were never particularly religious," Harry said. "And I'm not either."

Sirius waved his hand in the air. "Enough about religion. I don't have much time, as I said. Others here want to contact their loved ones. I have something important to tell you."

"What is it?" Harry said quickly.

Sirius glanced over his shoulder, as though checking for eavesdroppers. "Your parents old house in Godric's Hollow, under the willow tree in the front," Sirius said rapidly. "There's a box hidden in the ground, a bunch of things your parents left you. No one else knows about it, so I'm guessing it's something important. And by the way, I know my will was read, so have you gotten any of my things yet?"

"No," Harry confessed. "I'm here at your house, but I haven't gotten any of your things, or the letters. And Flitwick is checking over your motorcycle."

Sirius winked. "Be sure to take a good-looking girl for a ride around the skies above Hogwarts. If I remember correctly, there's a particularly comfortable tower near the Herbology Greenhouses."

Harry blushed, and Sirius chuckled. Something seemed to have distracted him, because he glanced over his shoulder again.

"Some old guy is yelling at me," Sirius muttered. "Saying I'm taking up all the time. Only one person can contact someone else each time, you know. Anyway, remember the box in front of your parents' house, do well in school, be nice to Remus, and kick Voldemort's arse the next time you see him."

"You're leaving?" Harry said, his heart sinking in his chest. He had lost his godfather already, and the return of him for a mere fifteen minutes was crushing.

Sirius nodded gravely. "Yes, I am."

He reached out an arm and grabbed Harry's shoulder, pulling him into a warm hug. Harry felt tears prickling at the corners of his eyelids, and Sirius thumping on his back didn't help much.

"Good luck, kid," Sirius said hoarsely, ruffling Harry's hair. "I-I look forward to seeing you again...But then you'll have to be dead, so maybe I don't--"

"Sirius, stop rambling," Harry said, laughter on the tip of his tongue. "I want to see you again, too, and my parents--"

"I have to go," Sirius cut in. "It's like being stuffed into a broom closet with the Bulstrodes here."

"Tell my parents--" Harry started to say, but Sirius was fading into the mist. He waved half-heartedly to his godfather until he was fully gone.

Suddenly, the mist was gone beneath Harry's feet. He felt desperately for something to grasp, but there was nothing around him--

There was a slight groan of bedsprings as Harry sat up straight as a board in bed, breathing heavily. He opened his eyes, but in his mind, all he could see was the white mist.

"SIRIUS!" Harry cried out. "SIRIUS!"

But no one was there to hear him. He collapsed back onto the bed, and let the tears come.

* * *

"SIRIUS!"

Severus jumped in his sleep, one hand on his wand and the other clutching the thin blanket around his body.

"SIRIUS!" Potter hollered again.

"Fucking hell, Potter," Severus groaned, pulling himself out of the bed he was using at Grimmauld Place. "You haven't been here for more than a day and you're already yelling..."

He continued to grumble to himself until he stopped at the door into Potter's room, listening. There was a muffled sob, followed by a small cry of pain.

Severus pushed open the door a crack, saying, "Potter? Is something attacking you again? You're yelling loud enough to wake the dead."

There was no response.

Severus sighed. "Potter, I don't feel like playing babysitter tonight. If you need another Sleeping Potion or some painkillers, then I can get them."

He waited for an answer, but all he got was a moan of pain. Through the thin stream of light, Severus could see the boy sit up in bed.

"Another vision?"

Potter hesitated. "It was...a dream, yes. But it wasn't about Voldemort..."

Severus flinched, allowing his left forearm to twitch slightly as Potter spoke the Dark Lord's name.

"Do you need to...talk about it?" he asked awkwardly. He wasn't used to having heart-to-hearts with people, especially with the son of someone he had hated with a passion. But Dumbledore had instructed him to do so, to let Potter have something else on his mind besides Black...

Potter sniffed. Through the thin stream of light coming from the open door, Severus saw him nod his head, then wipe his forehead with a sweat-soaked sleeve.

Severus stepped into the room, and withdrew his wand. He waved it swiftly, and a straight-backed chair appeared out of thin air. He sat down, muttered a Lighting Spell to the lamp by the bedside table, and looked at Potter.

"What was the dream about?"

"Sirius," said Potter, his voice low. "I was standing in an endless room of white mist, and he just...appeared. And then we talked..."

"What did you talk about?" Severus asked. He folded his hands in his lap, trying to listen intently. Dumbledore had said to try and make some sort of friendship with the boy...

Potter wiped his forehead again. It was covered in sweat and blood, which didn't go well with the purple bruises along his cheekbone. "We talked about him being innocent...The Veil...He said he visited Remus in his dreams last week...and he said something about a box at my parents' old house."

"And you think it was another plant by the Dark Lord," Severus guessed. Potter nodded. "I'll talk to Lupin when he gets back, and we'll visit the Headmaster."

"Sounds good to me," Potter said, sniffing again. His eyes were red and puffy, and there traces of tears along the bruised skin.

Severus stood up. "Sleep well."

"Wait," Potter said quietly. He looked up, his eyes brimming with tears again. "Can I ask you something?"

"Potter, it's late. I'm tired, and you should get some rest--"

"Can you tell me about my mother?"

Severus hid his choke of surprise with a cough. "No. It's late. I want to sleep."

"Please? You knew her as well as my dad did--"

"Ask Lupin or Dumbledore about that."

"Dumbledore never tells me anything, and I don't want to bring up difficult memories for Remus. He's already lost all his best friends."

"I'm not the person to ask, Potter--"

"Yes, you are! I don't like it, but you are the right person to ask!"

"No, I'm not. Potter, go sleep--"

"Will you just please tell me something about her? Anything, anything at all?"

"No! I'm not the person to ask--"

"But you loved her," Potter said, his voice harsh. "And she probably loved you back. She didn't get rid of Mark, did she?"

Severus stood frozen to the spot, one hand on the back of the chair, the other in the air aimlessly. Potter was pleading with his eyes again--Lily's eyes.

"Fine," Severus sighed, and he sat back down. Potter allowed himself a faint smile. "What do you want to know?"

"Anything and everything," Potter answered quickly. He had drawn his knees up to his chest, and was rocking back and forth slowly. "I mean, people just tell me about James, but never about Lily." He stopped rocking, and Severus could see his hands shaking slightly. "When did you first meet her?"

Severus cleared his throat. "The first day of term, on the train." As he spoke, his mind was overflowed with memories of the day.

The compartment door swung open. He looked up from the corner he was sitting in, and met almond shaped, emerald eyes. They belonged to a red-haired girl, who was standing in the doorway with a terrified expression on her face.

"Are you a first year, too?" she asked. She stepped into the compartment, dragging her trunk behind her.

"Yes," he answered. He didn't know why the girl even bothered to come down to his compartment; after all, didn't--what was his name? Sirius Black?--embarrass him enough with the Nose-Bleeding Curse? Hell, he had been so surprised by the act of rudeness he had forgotten the counter curse, and was left in the compartment in a puddle of blood. Which was where he was sitting now, speaking with a pretty redhead that obviously had no idea what had just happened.

"My name's Lily Evans," she continued, plopping down into a seat. She looked truly exhausted, and he said so.

Lily looked down at him. "I just had to pull my trunk the entire length of the train station because my stupid sister wouldn't help. I'm Muggle-born, you see, and I'm the first witch in my family. Petunia doesn't like that much."

Muggle-born? Or, as his father put it, Mudblood? His father had always told him to hate people that weren't pureblood, because they weren't "true witches and wizards, son, they have dirty blood." He swallowed awkwardly. He hated to disobey his father, who drank too much and gambled all the time, but it would be nice to have a friend.

"I'm Severus Snape," he said calmly.

"Nice to meet you, Severus," Lily said, smiling. "Why are you sitting on the floor?"

"Some idiot hit me with a curse," he confessed. He sat up so she could see the bloodstains below his nose.

"A curse?" Lily said with confusion. "If he was a first-year, don't you think that's a little advanced? I mean, I read all the books so I would know at least something before I came here, but I definitely wouldn't be able to manage a simple spell, let alone a curse."

He shrugged. "I know a lot of curses. You want to know one that can make your sister's nose hair grow into ringlets?"

Lily laughed. It was a rich sound, bouncing off the walls of the compartment. He relaxed slightly; if someone could make such a pretty sound, they certainly couldn't be any bad.

"That would be priceless!" she exclaimed. "Oh, the look on Petunia's face would be perfect. You should meet her sometime; you'd get a kick out of saying 'Abracadabra' and other odd words. She squeals like a pig and runs to tell our Mum and Dad."

He laughed along with her, and continued to speak with her for the entire train ride.

Potter nodded when Severus finished talking, a smile spreading over his face. "I suppose I know where Dudley's squealing comes from now."

"Yes..." Severus replied, saying something just for the sake of saying it. His mind was still on Lily's eyes, how they sparkled brightly when she laughed--

"What was she like?" Potter asked, interrupting Severus's inner flashbacks. "My mother, I mean. As a person."

"Lily was..." Severus searched for the right words. "Smart. Talented, especially with Charms. Very happy, most of the time. She knew how to take charge, which was why Dumbledore gave her the Head Girl position. She always helped the first-years find their way to class. She could make anyone laugh. She loved to learn, to study, anything that filled her mind with knowledge. She was polite to anyone, even the Slytherins who called her a Mudblood whore." He winced as the words left his mouth. "She turned James Potter down for a date thirty-seven times in one day. She--"

"Thirty-seven?" Potter interrupted, looking baffled. "In one day?"

Severus nodded grimly. "I remember because she had kept count on the back of her hand with a Muggle pen. It was for the Valentine's Ball in sixth year, and he had made some bet with Black, saying he could finally get a date with her."

"I'm guessing he lost."

"Terribly. He had to pay Black ten Galleons."

"That's kind of wrong," Potter said, a frown line between his eyebrows. "To bet on whether or not you get the girl. I mean, Ron and I are a bit stupid at times, but we don't bet money on it."

"If I had a Sickle for every time either of you did something idiotic, I could quit my job and live in a palace," Severus muttered under his breath. Potter heard it, but he just grinned and didn't say anything about the comment.

"So...you said that the two of you had some sort of...relationship...When did that start?"

Oh, he remembered that day well...

He was stirring the potion slowly, keeping his wrist straight. He smiled as the brew gradually turned lime-green, and withdrew the stirring rod. As the Advanced Potions class was too easy for him, the Potions Master had grudgingly given him his own potions lab to experiment with. It gave him a chance to make anything he wanted, without supervision.

At the sound of a fist against the heavy door, he turned.

"Hey, Severus."

"Lily," he greeted her, wiping his hands on his trousers. Robes got in the way of potion making, so he opted to wear Muggle clothes. "What are you doing down here?"

Lily shrugged as she set down her bag on an empty table. Striding across the room towards him, she answered, "I finished my homework in the library, and Miranda's getting ready for her date with Potter tonight. Of course, he's not coming to pick her up until after supper, but she's working on a few Glamour Charms."

He sneered automatically at his enemy's name. Lily laughed, the same sound that had attracted him to her when they were mere children, talking about curses, Sirius Black, and bad sisters on their first train ride to Hogwarts.

"What are you making?" Lily asked, brushing a piece of her hair out of her eyes. She stood behind him, resting her chin on his shoulder. She had to stand on her toes to do it, he realized with amusement.

"Invisibility Potion," he replied. It had turned a ruby colour now. "Fuck. It's going to be ruined--will you pass me that griffin claw?"

"That one?" Her voice tickled his ear. "The yellow-ish one?"

"Yes."

Lily reached over, grabbed the griffin claw, and dropped it into his outstretched hand. He let it fall into the potion, watching as the colour shifted back to green. He sighed with relief.

"That was close. This takes seven hours to make, and I don't want to waste any time."

"Don't tell me you're going to spend the entire Saturday in your lab," said Lily incredulously. When he nodded, she rolled her eyes. "You've got to be kidding me, Severus!"

"I like Potions," he said shyly. As he moved to pick up the stirring rod again, Lily seized his hand and forced it back to his side.

"Isn't there a Conservation Charm you can use, or something?" she questioned. "I'd like to spend the day with you, and if you're cooped up in your lab--"

"There isn't a Conservation Charm," he interrupted. "And you can't spend the day with me. What if someone sees us?"

"What's so bad about a Gryffindor and a Slytherin being friends?"

It was the question Lily asked every time he mentioned that they couldn't be seen together. Being Muggle-born, she just didn't understand. Gryffindors and Slytherins were notorious for their hatred of each other. It was plain and simple. A Slytherin and Gryffindor together was like oil and water. Well, except for himself and Lily, he thought with a grin.

"So, Miranda's got a date with Potter tonight?" he asked, abruptly changing the subject. As he always did. "She's a Ravenclaw, I thought she was supposed to be smarter than that."

Lily laughed again. Her breath sent shivers down his spine, and he swallowed uncomfortably. She was so beautiful...

She slid her arms around his waist, catching him by surprise. He could feel her smile against the back of his neck at his gasp, and allowed himself to be tugged away from his cauldron. Lily plopped him down in a vacant chair, and she took the opposite one.

"How long have you been working on it?" Lily inquired, nodding to the cauldron.

"About six hours," he said truthfully. "I woke up early to start it. I should be done by lunch."

"You've got it all planned out," said Lily, grinning broadly. "Too bad I'm going to drag you out of this stifling dungeon out to the lake."

"I can't swim," he lied swiftly. Lily eyed his suspiciously. How could he ignore that gaze? "Well, all right, I can, but I don't like the giant squid."

"I won't take excuses next time," Lily warned him, shaking her finger at him jokingly. "But seriously, Severus, you've got to get out of this dungeon."

"After this is finished," he persisted, gesturing to his cauldron. "It took me a year to save up for those basilisk fangs, and if it's ruined--"

"All right," Lily cut in. She was smiling. "I'll wait."

"Thanks." He stood up and began moving towards his cauldron, which was smoking faintly. He started stirring clockwise.

Severus stopped talking. Potter, who was lying down with his eyes shut and hands folded over his stomach, cracked one eye open.

"Why'd you stop? Sir?"

"I...I think I should leave..." He started to stand up, but Potter's hand darted out and grasped his shirtsleeve, yanking on it roughly. Severus jerked his arm back.

"Go on," Potter pleaded. "Please. No one's ever told me about my mother before. Please go on."

"You won't like it," Severus warned. "You really won't like it."

"I don't care," said Potter stubbornly. "Sit. Keep talking."

"Fine."

After a moment, Lily said quietly, "Severus?"

"That would be me." He poured ground gillyweed into the potion, watching with satisfaction as it turned violet. "Oh, it's almost done..."

The chair scraped against the floor as Lily stood up. He heard her walk towards him, and she placed her chin on his shoulder again. Her breathing was steady in his ear as she slipped her fingers into the belt loops of his trousers.

"Lily--?" he started to ask, but she raised one hand to cover his mouth.

"Shh," Lily whispered. She removed her hand, and turned him around so they were face to face. Her cheeks were flushed, and she laid her head on his chest, as though to hide it. He tried to slow his breathing.

"Lily, what are you--?" he tried again, but Lily made a muffled sound against his chest. He shut his mouth, gripping the table behind him tightly.

Once a few minutes had passed, Lily lifted her head. She moved her hands from his belt loops to the button on his trousers. His breath caught at she unbuttoned his trousers, slowly tugged down the zipper.

"Lily--"

His voice was hoarse, but she looked up at the sound. His entire body was trembling with the mixed emotion of desire and anxiety.

"Oh, Severus," Lily murmured, and pressed her lips to his. Before his whirling mind could process it, the sweet pleasure was gone. She then sank to her knees in front of him--

Severus paused. "I don't think I need to explain this any further, Potter."

Potter's face was slightly green. "No, I don't think you do."

"I told you that you wouldn't like it."

Potter squirmed. "You were right."

"How do you think you were made, Potter, the stork?"

"I know about--about that!" Potter snapped. The green tinge was gone; his cheeks were glowing with embarrassment. "I know about sex, I know about all that--"

"If you were to recite what you knew, Potter, I doubt the list would be very long."

Potter was fuming, to Severus's delight.

"Look, Sn--Professor Snape, just go on with the story."

"What else do you want to know?"

"Um...what happened after she...er...um...I mean..."

"You mean after we shagged on the desk?"

"Yes!" Potter was looking furious again. "Just stop with the taunting and get on with the story! What happened?"

It wasn't much fun to mock people who looked like they were about to cry if they heard another insult, so Severus shrugged in response. "We--ah, kissed a bit after we were finished, if you must know. And then I asked her to be my girlfriend."

"I assume she accepted."

"Yes. We spent the rest of the weekend together. I had to beg Professor Warren for new basilisk fangs."

Potter was silent for a moment, then he said, "I sure hope she loved my dad as much as she loved you."

"She did. She agreed to marry him, didn't she?" Severus said bitterly.

Potter looked down at his knees. "After I looked in your Pensieve last year, I thought that my dad had forced her to marry him. If looks could kill, James would have been six feet under."

"Most people thought he had."

"But did she really love him?"

"Yes. She told me so herself, and she never lied to me."

"So, if you two had this really good relationship, what the hell happened to it?"

"We wanted it to be kept a secret, but someone found out."

They were tangled up in the sheets of his bed in the seventh year Slytherin's dorm. Lily was cuddling up into his chest, one arm splayed across his torso. He rested his chin on her head, his finger tracing circles along the side of her neck.

"You sure it's all right for me to be here?" she whispered. "Will someone find out?"

"No," he answered. He began combing through her hair with his fingers. "Everyone else has class right now, remember?"

"It's a good thing we're on Flitwick's good side, then."

"Yes," he agreed, pulling her closer. She sighed deeply, and placed a feathery kiss on his collarbone.

"How much time do we have until lunch?"

He looked at the clock on his bedside table. "About twenty minutes."

Lily sat up abruptly, her body blocking the sun that was streaming in through the windows. "I should probably go now, I have to shower, and get dressed--"

"There's a shower here," he pointed out.

"Yes, I know," she said, reaching across the bed for her underwear, "but it would probably be better for me to leave."

"All right." He sat up, leaning against the headboard.

She finished dressing, and turned to face him. "God, I care about you," she said, biting her lower lip.

"I care about you, too," he said truthfully, and patted the empty space on the bed. She smiled, walked over to him, but didn't sit down. He wrapped his arms around her waist, tickling her sides until she fell with laughter beside him.

"You sure you can't say?" he teased.

"I'm sure," she said, a trace of laughter still in her voice. She pushed herself out of bed, but looked back at him again.

"Will you at least give me something to think about when you're gone?"

She flashed him a smile, and bent at the waist to kiss him lightly on the mouth. "Come to my room tonight," she said in his ear. Her hot breath sent shivers down the base of his neck. "I get a whole room to myself, being Head Girl."

"I will," he replied. "I found a new Cloaking Charm that will last longer. The old one ran out so quick, I almost got caught by McGonagall yesterday."

"But you will come to my room?"

"Of course I will."

"Good. We can sit by the fireplace, wrapped up in blankets, and drink hot cocoa."

"Sounds good to me."

"I can't wait," she said, giving him another quick kiss. She then tried to pull away, but he grabbed her by the elbow and yanked her onto his lap.

"Severus!" Lily exclaimed as he planted kisses along her jawbone. "I've got to go--Lunch, you know--"

"Lunch is for the weak," he responded between hungry kisses. "Stay here--"

Just then, the door burst open to reveal Avery, clutching an enormous pile of parchment. He looked at Lily, his eyes wide. He promptly dropped the entire pile, sending pieces of paper throughout the entire room.

"Bloody hell," he gasped, staring at the two guilty students. "This doesn't make any sense. Is that really Evans, Snape?"

He swallowed awkwardly. "Yes, it is, Avery."

"Er--" Avery said, his cheeks beginning to flush. "Sorry to interrupt--"

"I was just leaving," Lily cut in. She kissed him again, and climbed out of his lap. "Good-bye, Severus. Sorry for putting you in such an awkward position, Avery." She strode out of the door without looking back.

When the sound of her footsteps died down, Avery stared back at him with disbelief written across his face.

"You're shagging Evans?"

"Well, yes." He reached under his bed, pulling out his trousers and putting them back on. He stood up, and began to dress as though nothing out of the ordinary had just happened.

"You're shagging Evans," Avery repeated. "Evans. Muggle-born. Head Girl. Gryffindor. Hell, not even Potter could manage to get a date with her. Why's she with you?"

He paused, his shirt halfway on. "I don't really know," he said finally, yanking the shirt over his head. "But could you keep it to yourself?"

"Yeah," Avery said immediately, "of course. You didn't tell Rodolphus how Bellatrix and I...erm..."

"Got to know each other better in the greenhouses?" he supplied, and Avery nodded.

"By the way, Snape...Does Evans know about--well, you know..." Avery gestured to his left forearm.

"No, of course not," he scoffed, and Avery looked relieved. "I'm quite good at Concealing Charms."

"That's good," Avery said. "So, do you really like this Evans girl, or are you just trying to get closer to her so you can attack her family?"

"Her family?" he repeated. "Why would I want to do that? Sure, her sister maybe, but not her parents, I've met them, they're nice--"

"She's a Muggle-born, remember?" Avery exclaimed, his eyes glittering dangerously. "You swore yourself to The Cause, and if that means murdering your girlfriend's parents, than that's that. Are you understanding me?"

"You've got no right to bully me around," he snapped. "And don't think about taking out your wand and cursing me. I've got much more experience in duelling--and the Dark Arts, for that matter--than you do."

"This is true," Avery admitted. "But do you really like her?"

He paused, hesitating on his answer. "No, I don't," he lied. "Her parents may be nice, but they are Muggles."

The anger left Avery's expression, and he beamed.

"Did she ever find out that you said that?"

"Yes. I told her that night. She didn't take it very well."

"Well, of course she didn't," Potter said exasperatedly. "You had just told her that you didn't care about her that much--"

"I lied," Severus corrected him. "A very big lie. But she didn't want to live under a lie, so we broke up. Still remained friends, of course."

"And then she started dating my dad...?"

"Yes." Severus felt his jaw muscles tighten on instinct, and he spoke through clenched teeth. "A month afterwards. A simple date. That progressed to more dates, which led to becoming serious, which eventually led to them moving in together after school was over, then marriage a few months later. And then you."

"That must have been difficult."

"Yes, especially since every time I tried to talk to her, your father was glued to her side. I hardly got a chance to be with her, and I didn't dare go to her rooms. I didn't want to walk in on Lily and her fiancée."

He spat out the last words with such venom that Potter raised his eyebrows. "Calm down, Professor."

"But what happened--?"

"That's enough for today, Potter," he interrupted. "I'm going to bed. You will, too."

* * *

Harry awoke feeling like a hippogriff was trying to climb its way out of his stomach. He tried to piece together what he had learned the previous night, hoping to calm it. Snape. His mother. A relationship. The very thought of it twisted his stomach into fierce knots. Sure, he had known ever since Snape had told him about Mark Evans, but hearing the older wizard spill out his memories was too much to bear.

He sat up slowly, placing a hand across his forehead to see if it was still bleeding. His fingertips began to burn as soon as they came in contact with his scar, and he jerked them away.

"Shit," Harry muttered under his breath, squeezing his hand into a fist to stop the pain. He grabbed his glasses off the bedside table and put them on. "Shit, that hurts..."

He stumbled out of bed and walked down the stairs, wincing as his muscles ached and his bruises twitched. He finally made it down to the kitchen, and collapsed into one of the chairs, breathing heavily.

"You've got a great workout, Potter," drawled a voice from the staircase. "Walking from your room down to the kitchen--"

"Shut it, Malfoy," Harry snapped. "I haven't been able to eat or drink for a week. My ankle is broken. I have a couple ribs that are broken. It's getting hard to breathe. I learned a few things last night I wish I hadn't asked about. I--"

"Christ, Potter, I'm not your shrink," Malfoy said, walking into the kitchen. Harry glared at him, but it only made him smirk.

"Do you know where Ron and Hermione are?" he asked, hoping to change the subject.

Malfoy jerked a thumb at the ceiling. "With Buckbeak. If you can manage to drag yourself up the stairs again, you might be able to see them before they stop feeding the hippogriff his lunch."

"Lunch?" Harry repeated. "It's lunchtime?"

"It's a bit after eleven."

"I need food."

"Do I look like a house-elf?"

"I'd answer that, but I don't need another beating."

"I think some more purple bruising would look very well with that nice green tinge around your jaw. That, by the way, goes excellent with your eyes."

"Where's Remus?" Harry asked, changing the subject again. All he wanted was food and a potion to make the pain go away...

"The werewolf? He's talking to Dumbledore with Snape. At Hogwarts."

"Are there any adults in this house?"

"The twins. They're in the cellar, working."

"I meant responsible adults."

"Then you're out of luck. Everyone else is working today." Malfoy reached into his back pocket. "By the way, Snape told me to give these to you. Said it would help the wounds."

The Slytherin placed two flasks on the table, one a sickly green colour, the other ruby red. Harry immediately uncorked them and tossed the liquids down his throat. He sighed in content as the potions trickled down his throat, the pain slowly fading away.

"Much better," Harry said, standing up. He tested his weight on his ankle, satisfied. "Give him my thanks if he stops by."

"Yup." Malfoy headed over to the pantry, signalling the end of the conversation. Harry walked up the staircase again, enjoying the fact that he could walk without passing out.

"Harry!" Hermione squealed as he opened the door. She and Ron dropped the bags of dead rats they were carrying, and rushed over to his side. Both immediately wrapped him up in a hug.

"Lupin told us what happened," Ron said weakly, stepping away so he could see better, "but I didn't think it would be this bad..."

"Have you eaten anything?" Hermione asked, with the tone of an anxious mother. "You're really thin, Harry."

"No," Harry answered, his mouth still slightly dry from the absence of water. "I had something at Privet Drive when the police came over, but that was it. I just tried to get something in the kitchen, but I didn't want to eat lunch with Malfoy."

Ron made a sound of disgust. "I still can't believe the Order saved his skin," he said, his eyes hardened. "And Dad went with Dumbledore to help him! After all the Malfoys have done to our family--"

"Just Lucius," Harry interrupted. "Narcissa can't remember a thing because of the Memory Charms."

"And Draco's just a kid," Hermione added. "Even if he is a--a--"

"A little prick?" Harry suggested. "A stuck-up arse, perhaps?"

"Watch your language!" she chided.

"I hate having him here," Ron muttered. "He can't be trusted, I just know it."

"You say the same thing about Snape," Hermione reminded him, "but he's saved Harry's life twice now."

"If he really wanted to save Harry before, he could have run onto the pitch instead of saying a counter-curse against Quirrel's jinx," Ron shot back.

Hermione looked slightly hurt, but she soon recovered.

"It doesn't matter, Ron," she said, holding her head up high. "Besides, Snape's taught Harry loads of things. Occlumency--"

"Which he could have done last year," Ron cut in.

"--duelling--"

"Harry's already wicked good at that, he doesn't need more lessons."

"Actually," Harry said quietly, "he helped me learn some of the new curses from those books you two got me for my birthday. And I know why he didn't like to teach me Occlumency last year."

Well, he had a theory, but he wasn't exactly going to share that with Hermione and Ron. Harry didn't think Snape would appreciate his students knowing about his previous love affairs.

"But you can't tell us, right?" Ron said.

Harry nodded, glad that his friend understood.

"Well, it's good to have you back, Harry," Ron said, sighing heavily. "We've missed you terribly."

"I've missed you, too," said Harry, his chest tightening. He had missed them, seeing as how he had only had Snape and the Dursleys for conversation during the summer. "Listen, Uncle Vernon burned all my school things, so do you think I can borrow your summer work?"

"Harry!" Hermione said, looking at him reproachfully. "That's cheating!"

"No, it's comparing answers," Ron corrected. "Harry got his things done, his mad uncle just chucked them in the fireplace. I'm sure it happens all the time."

Hermione rolled her eyes, but she said, "All right, I'll let you borrow my work...But try not to copy it word for word, will you?"

"Of course," Harry said, feeling relief wash over him. After all, term started in a week and a half, and he couldn't possibly do all his work in such a short span of time. "Thanks." He looked at the hippogriff in the corner, who was staring at the dead rats on the floor with a hungry look in his eye. "Erm...maybe you two should go back to feeding Buckbeak..."

"Why don't you try, Harry?" Ron suggested, holding up the blood-splattered bag. "Buckbeak likes you, remember?"

"I haven't seen him in awhile, he probably won't remember me--"

"Oh, go on, Harry," Hermione encouraged. "Sirius left him to you, the least you can do is feed him his lunch."

Harry swallowed awkwardly, Hermione's words slapping him across the face. He took the bag from Ron's hands wordlessly, stepped forward, and stared right into Buckbeak's orange eyes.

"Go ahead and bow," Hermione said quietly. From the tone of her voice, she sounded like she had regretted her previous statement.

Harry jerked his head in a short bow. Almost immediately, Buckbeak sank to his knees in a bow. Harry allowed himself a faint smile, and patted the hippogriff's beak.

"Here you go," he said softly, reaching into the bag (his fingers made an awful squelching sound) and pulling out a rat. He placed it on the floor, and Buckbeak gobbled it up.

"I think he remembers you," Ron said, and Harry glanced at him. He was grinning broadly.

"Suppose so," Harry said, looking at the hippogriff. His chest swelled and a lump rose in his throat as he recalled dropping Buckbeak off at Flitwick's office, watching Sirius ride off to his freedom.