Lily's Charm

1996

"Where's Harry?" Ginny asked Hermione as soon as she came over to where her friend and brother were sitting at the Gryffindor table.

"Snape threw him out of Potions class," Ron spat, the irritation on his face clear.

"We haven't seen him since," Hermione added, her own face filled with concern.

Ginny narrowed her eyes, her temper igniting as she swung around to face the Head Table, finding Snape staring at the three of them, with what seemed almost to be concern on his harsh features. She had no idea what had transpired in Potions class, but if Snape had dismissed Harry from class and Harry had subsequently secluded himself somewhere, there was little hope that things had gone as planned.

With a final furious glower at Snape, Ginny snapped to Ron, "You could have told me Harry was missing." And then, not waiting for an answer, she said tersely, "I'm going to find him." With that, Ginny turned and stomped out of the Great Hall, her anger guiding her through the corridors of the castle.

She had spent the past few hours in the Gryffindor common room, studying with the other fifth years. She had wondered briefly as the dinner hour drew closer why Harry hadn't come to the Tower, but she had figured that he was occupied either with Lupin or in the library with Ron and Hermione, since they hadn't made any specific plans to meet. As soon as Ginny had seen Ron and Hermione without Harry in the Great Hall however, she knew immediately that something wasn't right.

Damn Snape anyway, she fumed as she made her way outside, knowing it was the most likely place for Harry to sequester himself if he was upset. Why couldn't the impossible man just stop playing with Harry's feelings? Didn't Snape even care how much he was hurting him? He'd made him so upset this time that he'd actually run off, for Merlin's sake.

Maybe he had gone to Hagrid's, she thought briefly but decided it was unlikely, as Hagrid had been at dinner. Ginny's annoyance was beginning to expand to Harry as well as she stormed through the huge entrance doors. Why was his first predilection always flight when he was troubled? Harry should have found her, or at least Lupin if he'd been angry enough to leave the castle.

Ginny's anger evaporated though as she spotted Harry's dejected form, sitting just out of reach of the Whomping Willow. It was not lost on Ginny that Harry had chosen to escape to the same place where he and Sirius had been when his godfather had invited him to live with him more than two years ago.

Ginny continued toward Harry, her heart heavy. When she reached him, she slid down next to him on the ground, reaching her fingers out to caress his cheek gently. Harry brought his troubled eyes up to meet her gaze. "What happened?" Ginny asked softly.

"I'm not sure," Harry mumbled as he shook his head. "I don't think I was ready to just act as if nothing had happened. Snape didn't seem to have the same problem." Harry's face darkened, his tone turning bitter. Ginny scooted closer to him and took his hand.

"What did he say?"

Harry shrugged as he answered, "Called me incompetent, took points...the usual."

Ginny hesitated before asking, "But, wasn't that what he was supposed to do?"

Harry chuckled darkly, leaning forward to pluck up a blade of grass. "Yep. It wasn't hard for him at all. He acted exactly like he has been for five years...five years of hating me. He didn't even hate my mother after he thought she had slept with James," he finished, angrily flicking the little green blade from his fingers.

Ginny frowned in sudden understanding. This wasn't really about Potions class today or even any insults Snape had so casually thrown at Harry. Harry was upset that Snape, his own father, had hated him for so many years. Harry had witnessed how much the Professor had once loved him and with one simple lie, that love seemed to have been washed away. If Harry hadn't found that Pensieve, Snape would hate him still.

Ginny knew that Harry had been keeping these worries firmly at bay, concentrating instead on the new Snape he was getting to know. At various times in the past few weeks, she had sensed similar feelings bubbling at the surface but Harry had squelched them every time they tried to break free; the reaction was purely unconscious. Harry, she was realizing, was a master at hiding from unpleasant truths, although Ginny couldn't be exactly sure what the truth was here.

"Harry, it's okay for you to be angry about the way Snape treated you," she tried to reassure him, and the attempt earned her a small smile. Harry began tracing circles along the inside of her arm with his index finger; the delicate motion sent shivers up Ginny's spine. Harry smiled at her reaction, letting himself become distracted for a moment as he leaned in to kiss her. Ginny obliged but then pulled back firmly and chided, "You can't ignore this anymore, Harry. Not if it bothers so much that you had to run away."

"I didn't run away, Gin," Harry said with a quiet sigh, pulling her closer. Ginny gave him a skeptical look. He chuckled. "Okay, fine. I did run away. I didn't know what else to do, I guess."

"You could have found me...or Lupin. Ron and Hermione are worried about you, you know. You could have talked to any of us." Ginny hadn't mean to sound hurt that Harry hadn't come to her, but the remorseful look that crossed his face was indication enough that she had.

"I wasn't trying to shut you out, Ginny. All of you were in class," he tried to explain and Ginny nodded, not wanting to add to Harry's guilt. She felt him relax a little against her.

"Well next time, just wait for one of us, okay? You shouldn't be wandering around on your own anyway, especially if the Slytherins are spying on you." Her voice had taken on a firm edge and Harry smiled again. Ginny frowned at him.

"All right," he promised as she continued to glower at him. He laughed and added, "You're even stricter than Snape." Ginny laughed as well.

"I doubt that. You're just lucky he didn't find you first," she teased, her cheeks flushing slightly as Harry's smile grew warmer, his emerald eyes lighting as he watched her.

"Hmmm," he murmured and leaned in again toward her. He pressed his lips to hers. Ginny, forgetting all about Snape for the moment, wrapped her arms around Harry.

------

Damn, Severus cursed silently as he navigated the deserted corridors. With simple deduction, he could conclude that Harry wasn't in the castle anymore. The other Gryffindors would have seen him had he been in any of the likely places. That left only the grounds of Hogwarts to search. Only. What in Merlin's name had the boy been thinking, leaving the castle proper, all alone? Hadn't Severus made it plain that such an act was utterly foolish right now? He only hoped Harry hadn't been stupid enough to actually leave the grounds.

Severus made his way through the great entrance doors and down the steps, his agitation growing with each step. No matter how upset Harry had been, there was simply no excuse for reckless behavior. But his son had been nothing if not reckless over the past five years and the Headmaster had encouraged that particular trait of Harry's every step of the way. Not for the first time, Severus wished he could wring the jovial Headmaster's neck.

Now where the hell would Harry go? Severus' initial inclination was that the boy would go to the gamekeeper's hut, but Hagrid had been in the Great Hall, and even the overgrown imbecile would surely have brought Harry back to the castle with him. If Harry had bothered to listen, that is.

Growling quietly, Severus continued on, his pace quickening as he began to explore the very real possibility that Harry had ventured into the Forbidden Forest. If his son had done something that irresponsible, the boy would bloody well be scrubbing cauldrons for the remainder of the term, Severus vowed to himself recklessly as his mounting anxiety took his mind toward the ridiculous.

Just as various scenarios, each one depicting a more grisly death than the first for Harry, began to run through his mind, Severus was brought up short. He had no idea how he'd even gotten to the Whomping Willow, but there, only a few feet from him was his son, with his arms wrapped around the Weasley girl, their lips firmly locked together.

Harry spotted Severus a second later and the boy hastily untangled his limbs from Ms. Weasley's and scrambled to his feet, his face scarlet. Ms. Weasley took her time standing, her cheeks glowing as well but the girl seemed more angry than embarrassed.

The three of them stared at each other for a moment before Severus finally erected the most complex Privacy Spells he knew and then barked out, "Explain yourself!"

Harry took an involuntary step back, while Ms. Weasley folded her arms across her chest and rapped out, "It's called kissing."

Severus clenched his fists and leaned in toward Ms. Weasley. Harry immediately stepped in between them, his stance purely protective. "Leave her alone," he warned calmly and Severus drew back, uncomfortably reminded of his own protectiveness toward Lily.

Severus closed his mind, willing himself to reign in his emotions as they threatened to spin wildly out of control. Harry was watching him, his eyes brightly lit in challenge. As if the boy was taunting him. "You have no business being out of the castle alone," Severus said, trying to keep his voice even.

"Ginny's with me," Harry corrected.

Severus' jaw worked in agitation at Harry's attempted misdirection. "And I am aware of exactly how long Ms. Weasley has been with you," he bit out caustically.

Ms. Weasley pursed her lips. "If you hadn't thrown Harry out of class, he wouldn't even be wandering around alone, Professor," the girl retorted, stepping around Harry, most likely so she could glare more easily.

Severus glared down at the girl, though he was careful not to move toward her again. "I do not believe your presence is required here, Ms. Weasley."

Harry bristled, his back straightening. "Then, we'll both just go."

"You will stay here," Severus snapped. Harry narrowed his eyes, clearly going over his options in his head. Perhaps it would not be so easy to smooth things over with him.

"Then Ginny stays too," he informed Severus stubbornly.

Severus considered demanding that the girl leave, but decided such a step would only serve to widen the divide between him and his son. "Fine," he acceded through clenched teeth. Harry smirked at him and Severus finally lost his temper at the insolence. "It seems it was a wise decision to give you detention tonight, as you obviously need an incentive to learn some respect," he spat, not pausing to consider his words.

It was a poor choice of words, indeed. Harry exploded, "Me?" the boy raged, his voice ringing absurdly through the sparse cover of foliage above their heads.

"Lower your voice," Severus reprimanded automatically, forgetting for an instant that no one could possibly hear, or even see them.

"No," Harry refused, his voice not lessening in volume in the least and then the boy sagged a little around the shoulders. He shook his head. "I'm tired of this," he said quietly. "You don't have to do this anymore, all right? You can just start hating me again. You already did it once." The boy's voice was a mere whisper now and Severus' heart jumped into his throat at the unexpected words.

Rendered speechless, the Potions master watched his son take Ms. Weasley's hand in his own and turn away from him. And somehow Severus knew that if he let Harry walk away now, he would never get him back.

"Harry," he breathed coarsely, "wait."

Harry stopped, his back still turned to the Professor. Ms. Weasley, standing firmly next to his son, turned her head so that she was looking right into Severus' dark eyes. Her brown eyes were beseeching, begging him to fix this, to finally be Harry's father again.

With every thought turned to the woman he still loved and the son she had given him, Severus drew a deep breath, and said the impossible words, "I do not wish to forget that you are my son. Not again."

Harry turned around, his face filled with pain. "But you did. I know you still love my mum. How could have just stopped loving me?" Harry asked, his voice breaking; sorrow filled Severus' mind.

"I..." he tried to explain, but he faltered; the words would not come. How could he explain to his son what he had gone through the night that Lily had told him that Harry was not his son? How could he explain the pain that had severed him when he'd learned that Lily had died? That he had mourned the death of a son that night as well? He could not. Not with words.

Slowly, his voice soft with renewed grief, Severus whispered, "I do not think I can explain." Harry's face crumpled and he started to turn away again. "I can show you...if you will allow me," Severus offered tentatively and his son's emerald eyes shone with undisguised hope. "I will need to enter your mind," Severus clarified, wanting Harry to understand before he made his decision. But Harry didn't waste any time in thought. He nodded quickly.

Severus barely noticed as Ms. Weasley quietly slipped outside the boundaries of the wards he'd erected, and the Potions master felt a moment of gratitude toward the girl before gesturing Harry to come closer. His son moved forward.

Severus took a few steps toward his son until they were standing quite close. Severus held up his hands, indicating to Harry that he would need to touch him, not trusting himself to speak. Harry nodded jerkily. As gently as he could, the Potions master brought both of his hands to cradle either side of Harry's face, his thumbs resting on the boy's cheek bones.

Harry's eyes were wide as Severus angled his head slightly. As it was in Albus' office and later in the Potions classroom, this joining of minds would be done without aid of a wand. Severus gazed deeply into Harry's green eyes as he slowly drew the caged memories from the wells of his own mind.

"Severus...please."

Severus finally looked up from the complex potion he was brewing as Albus' voice became a desperate plea. "What is it, Albus?" he asked impatiently, wanting to get back to his favorite distraction.

"Can you step through to my office?" Albus asked. Severus frowned and opened his mouth to argue with the Headmaster but Albus interrupted, "Just for a moment...please." There was something off in the old wizard's tone and feeling slightly wary, Severus placed a Stasis Charm over the temperamental potion and finally acquiesced to the Headmaster's wishes; he left his lab and went through the Floo. He found himself a second later in Albus' office at Hogwarts. Albus was alone.

"Sit, if you would Severus." The grave tone had not left Albus' voice. Severus, his apprehension heightening, sat in one of the chairs in front of the fireplace. Albus sat across from him and folded his aged hands in his lap. "Severus," he began, not wasting any more time, "Voldemort attacked your house tonight...James and Lily are dead."

Severus grasped the arms of the chair, as he felt himself reeling, the waves of dizziness beginning to overtake him. Lily. "No," Severus whispered, unwilling to believe this; the roiling nausea threatened to overwhelm him. The Potions master felt his hand patted gently and heard someone whispering something from somewhere, very distantly. Something about Harry. His son? But no, his Harry was gone, as dead as Lily now was.

Lily and Harry were gone. Severus' vision began to darken, until there was nothing but black and Severus was no longer aware of himself. There was only blistering waves of burning fire, fire so hot, it consumed him, burned through him in a raging inferno. Severus gave in to the beckoning flames as they buried him. Buried his beloved wife and son...

And there they lay, beneath the fiery depths for ten years.

Severus watched the new batch of first years disinterestedly as Minerva paraded them into the Great Hall. He paid little attention to the sea of young faces, nodding discreetly to young Malfoy, after the boy was sorted into Slytherin House. Severus' long and forced association with the Malfoys was still as tiresome as it always had been. It was necessary though as he continued in his feigned role as a spy for the Dark Lord and so Severus played his part, pretending mild affection for Draco, and friendship toward Draco's loathsome father.

"Potter, Harry."

Severus' eyes flashed up at the innocuous call. A boy with a mop of messy black hair walked nervously toward the Sorting Hat. Harry. Severus had known of course that the boy would be starting at Hogwarts this term. He had thought he had prepared himself. But, as Severus' gut squirmed spasmodically with remembered pain, he knew he had not really been ready to see the boy he had buried ten years ago.

"Gryffindor!" the Hat shouted after a long debate and something inside Severus shriveled. Potter's son seemed to sigh in relief as he jumped down off the stool. He sauntered, just as his bastard father had always done, over to his new House table amidst the asinine cheering of half the Great Hall.

After Albus had uttered his inanities and the night's festivities were underway, Severus forced his thoughts back to the details of his duties for the rest of the night and on into tomorrow. He would need to greet his Slytherins tonight in the common room after dinner. Severus scanned the Great Hall watching the students as they dug, without adequate manners, into their meal.

Without warning, a pair of familiar emerald eyes was gazing into Severus' own.

Lily.

But these eyes did not belong to his beloved Lily. They were the eyes of her son...hers and Potter's. And in that instant, all the feelings of disgust and self-loathing broke through the Potions Master's carefully erected shields and all Severus' hatred toward the Gryffindor traitor, who had stolen his family, twisted in unfair revulsion against this boy.

Severus glared at the creature, at the child who had usurped his family and replaced his Harry--the boy he still loved as fiercely as he loved Lily. And Severus wished he had never vowed to protect Potter's son.

------

Forgive me.

Harry knew he was crying, the sobs shaking him violently as Snape's memories dissipated from his mind. And, as his thoughts cleared, Harry realized that the tremors were not coming solely from him; his father's rough hands were trembling on Harry's cheeks and when Harry focused on Snape's angular face, he saw tears glimmering in his eyes.

Harry closed his eyes and froze beneath Snape's grasp, not wanting to invade on such a private moment, but then strong hands were grabbing at his shoulders, clutching him closer as though Snape was desperately drawing strength from him.

Harry stayed as still as he could.

It was much more than he could have expected.

Snape had opened himself up to him, made himself vulnerable and Harry knew now how much the professor had wanted him to understand. And, in a way, Harry did understand. Snape had never stopped loving him...not really. He had allowed his hatred of James to warp him until the feelings transferred themselves onto the boy he thought was James' son, having effectively buried the little boy from the Pensieve years before.

Snape had offered him the memories as an explanation, as a plea to understand. The memories couldn't take away the hurt that Harry still felt so sharply, but they did help. His father's arms around him helped even more.

Harry had no idea how long they stayed that way but when he could no longer stand the feelings of guilt that were swirling inside him, he finally blurted, "I'm sorry for what I said...about the Death Eaters." He had tried and succeeded fairly well to keep his voice steady as he apologized.

In the last few hours, he had gone over and over their earlier exchange and had wished each time that he had not said those words. Harry knew that it was not his father's choosing to associate with the dark witches and wizards of Voldemort's inner circle and he felt terrible for having implied anything of the sort.

As the apology left his mouth, Snape stiffened and Harry felt a moment of panic that his father would push him away. Instead, Snape's fingers tightened briefly on Harry's shoulders and Snape said softly, "I should not have provoked you. It was foolish to think you would not be affected by my taunting." Snape's voice faltered before he continued stiffly, "I did not mean the things I said."

"I think I knew that," Harry murmured as he nodded.

"Even so, it was not a wise course of action," Snape said. "Your feelings toward me are not strong enough to withstand such testing." Stunned at the naked hurt in the Professor's voice, Harry reared back.

Snape's hands fell away.

"That's not true," Harry objected fiercely.

Snape looked down at him, his black eyes filled with regret. "I do not expect you to feel as I do."

Harry swallowed. "How do you feel?" he asked timidly, fearing he was overstepping some invisible line. But Snape held his gaze.

"You are my son." They were the same words Snape had uttered after the Filial Potion had proved them to be true, but the meaning this time was clear, and the shadowed warmth in his father's eyes was unmistakable.

"And, you're my father," Harry returned, hoping Snape would understand his meaning just as well. But, just in case the stubborn man couldn't, he added, "I care about you too." Pleased surprise flared in his father's eyes for an instant and Harry grinned at the subtle reaction. Basking in the moment, Harry asked with a grin, "Do I still have detention tonight?"

Harry was sure the man almost smiled as he answered, "We do have to keep up appearances. I believe, however, that we can find something less unpleasant than the usual removal of frog innards, for you to do."

Harry made a face at the image that conjured in his head. "Good," he approved. Snape shook his head, clearly amused by Harry's reaction to the idea of gutting frogs. Harry shrugged. "It's disgusting," he explained.

"Indeed," Snape agreed. "That is most likely why I use it as a punishment, instead of as a reward," the man added sardonically.

Harry smiled again. "At least it's not as bad as cleaning toilets for Filch."

"I'll keep that in mind," Snape promised and Harry laughed.

"As long as you don't keep it in mind for me."

His father narrowed his eyes slightly. "You have plans to earn yourself further detentions?" he questioned, his voice coated in curious amusement.

Harry grinned. "You never know, Professor," he said with a shrug. Snape stiffened suddenly and Harry quickly amended, "I was only kidding, sir." He had no idea how he could have upset the man. And then with sudden insight, as his thoughts flashed back to his and Ginny's conversation in the common room and back further to Hermione's declaration in the Great Hall, Harry flushed.

Snape's reaction had obviously been in response to being called 'Professor'. But, how could Harry call the stern man anything other than Professor...or sir? Snape surely wouldn't want him to address him any other way...would he?

With a start, Harry realized that his father was watching him as he tried to organize his thoughts. His father. He had already said the words aloud to Snape once and the professor had not corrected him. Harry realized as well, that he had been referring to Snape that way in his head, since even before the man had latched onto him.

Before Harry could make any sort of decision, Snape commented, "You need not do anything that makes you uncomfortable."

Harry blinked in surprise. Were his thoughts really so transparent? "I'm not sure what to call you anymore," he admitted slowly.

His father averted his eyes. "I would prefer you not address me as 'Snape'. Otherwise the choice is yours."

Hearing the professor using his own family name made Harry realize how hard it must have been for Snape to give his only son a name that was not his own. Wanting to change the subject from the uncomfortable one they had stumbled upon, Harry asked, "Is my last name really Potter?"

Snape's eyes snapped back to look at Harry and his lips twitched; Harry knew his father recognized his pathetic tactic. "It is," he confirmed.

Harry nodded, slowly thinking about the other question that had plagued him relentlessly over the past few weeks. He was sure he already knew the answer, but he asked anyway, "Did my mum use a Charm to change the way I really look?"

"Not precisely," Snape told him. When Harry tilted his head in confusion, Snape continued, "Before you were even born, your mother devised a Charm to weave some of James' genes with your own, so that your appearance would combine James' features with Lily's and mine."

"You manipulated my genes?" Harry asked incredulously.

His father nodded. "The ones affecting your appearance, yes."

"So, I really look like this, then?"

Snape nodded again. "That is your true appearance."

"Mum was bloody brilliant," Harry breathed and that time, Snape really did smile, though on anyone else, it would have been termed a frown.

"She was," his father agreed.

Harry had to admit, he was relieved that he would not have to worry about suddenly changing into a new person. It was a strange feeling however to realize that he should perhaps have looked like someone else...maybe like Snape.

"It is late," the professor interrupted Harry's rapidly wandering thoughts.

Harry nodded. "Should I just come to your classroom then...instead of Flooing to your quarters?" he asked, remembering that he still had to pretend to have detention.

Snape nodded. "I will inform Lupin of our change in plans." Harry nodded and then his father added, "I am going to place a Disillusionment Charm on myself. We should not be seen walking the grounds together."

Harry watched as Snape disappeared, grinning at the sight. "Brilliant," he enthused.

"I will walk with you back to the castle. You really should not be alone on the grounds." The slightly stern rebuke made Harry's ears burn and he was glad he could not see the Professor as the man was probably glaring at him.

"Yes, sir," he mumbled, not really sure where to look so that he wouldn't be facing his father. He looked straight up though, in surprise, as he felt the light squeeze of a hand on his shoulder.

"We should go," Snape's disembodied voice suggested, the tone almost gentle and Harry nodded.

With a few quick words, the Privacy Spell dissolved. Harry and his father walked away from the Whomping Willow. They didn't talk as they climbed the hill back to the castle, but that was okay with Harry, as his mind was spinning with everything that had passed between them.

When the pair reached the bottom of the stairs leading into Hogwarts, Harry stopped. Remus was sitting on the bottom step, gazing toward the Whomping Willow. His friend stood as soon as he spotted Harry.

"Is everything all right, Harry?" Remus asked, and Harry's stomach clenched painfully as he waited for Snape's angry retort. But Remus' question was greeted with silence.

Harry nodded at his friend, disappointment washing through him as he realized Snape had probably continued on up the steps. But then Harry felt a hand press against his back, urging him to move and Harry couldn't help smiling at Snape's silent demand. Harry started moving again, and Remus walked with him.

"I met Ginny out here a little while ago," Remus told him as they walked up the stairs. "She wanted to wait for you but I sent her inside."

Harry nodded, understanding both of the messages his friend was giving him. He smiled at the thought of Ginny. "How long did it take you to convince her to go?" Harry asked.

Remus chuckled. "Ron and Hermione finally dragged her inside. Otherwise, I don't think she would have gone."

"Ron and Hermione were out here as well?" Harry asked, surprised.

"Mmm," Remus affirmed. "It seems they were worried about where you'd gotten to," he explained, giving his young friend a rather pointed look.

Harry sighed. "I know, I know. I've already been reprimanded twice tonight."

"Twice?" Remus echoed, glancing over at Harry.

"Yeah...Ginny wasn't too thrilled with me, either," Harry admitted, grinning sheepishly.

Remus chuckled. "She's just like Molly, that one."

"Yeah," Harry agreed, thinking fondly of Mrs. Weasley's formidable temper and realizing how much he appreciated her daughter's strength. "Did Ginny tell you I have detention tonight?" he asked, figuring he might as well tell Remus himself.

Remus nodded. "She also told me to tell you that you'd best find your way to the common room as soon as Professor Snape lets you out." Remus looked very much like he was trying not to laugh.

Harry's cheeks warmed as they passed through the big doors. He and Remus continued on toward the dungeons, and Harry wondered briefly why his friend was escorting him to his 'detention'. Perhaps there had really been something to Snape's seemingly hysterical anger about his wandering the grounds alone.

--

"I wish you were coming with us," Ginny said with a sigh as she pulled away from Harry on the sofa.

Harry brought Ginny back into his arms. "Me too," he agreed before kissing her again.

Ginny smiled. "I could stay here," she offered in a teasing voice but Harry's heart skipped a beat anyway at the thought. The idea of the two of them here together, alone, was certainly a pleasant one.

"You could." he answered in all seriousness and Ginny leaned closer to him, nestling into his side.

"I can stay if you want me to, Harry." Her tone this time was solemn as well, and Harry knew she was giving him a chance to back away from the commitment he'd made.

Harry sighed. He hadn't spoken to Snape since he and Remus had walked into the Potions classroom with Harry on Thursday evening. As soon as Snape had reversed his Disillusionment Charm, he'd informed Harry that Voldemort was calling.

Fear had gripped Harry instantly, but Snape had assured him quietly, "I will be fine." And then his father had ordered, his voice hardening, "Do not leave the Tower. Is that clear?"

Harry had nodded shakily, his heart beating faster as his father studied him briefly and then Snape was Flooing away, his face a blank mask.

Harry had stayed up most of that night, alternating between pacing and re-writing the same two lines of his Potions essay. His friends had tried to stay up with him, until Harry had finally ordered the dozing Gryffindors to leave the common room.

Ginny, of course, had refused to go and so Harry had eventually sat down on the sofa, pulling Ginny to him. He had wrapped an arm around her as she put her head on his shoulder, whispering quietly to her to sleep. Ginny had obliged and though Harry hadn't meant to, he soon fell asleep as well. When he'd awoken early the next morning, he and Ginny had been inexplicably covered in one of the blankets from Harry's bed and there was a small vial, labeled Essence of Clover in a tidy, familiar script, sitting on the low table in front of them.

Harry had seen the Potions master in the Great Hall yesterday at dinner but had not dared to make eye contact with him. And even though Harry had been touched by Snape's gesture, he was incredibly nervous to see the man. He had no idea how he was supposed to act around him anymore...he was even less sure about what he should call him when he saw him next...if indeed he managed to call him anything at all.

"Harry?" Ginny prodded, breaking into his thoughts.

"Sorry," Harry said. "I'll be all right," he tried to assure her as she studied him.

"I'll be here when you finish with Snape," she promised and Harry smiled at the thought, just as Ginny's friends came loudly down the stairs from the dorms. Their chattering stopped immediately when they saw Harry and Ginny together on the couch.

"You'd better go, Gin," Harry said resignedly as he pulled her to her feet. Ginny stood on her tiptoes to give him a kiss and Harry blushed as the giggling started. Ginny rolled her eyes and with a little wave to Harry, she allowed herself to be shepherded from the common room by her friends.

Harry sighed and flopped back onto the sofa, wishing that he hadn't agreed to spend the day with Snape. He was in the middle of debating whether or not to just stay in the common room when Ron's voice rang out in exasperation, "Why does it take so long for girls to get ready?"

Harry twisted his head around to watch as Ron and Neville descended the last few stairs. He grinned at his agitated friend. Harry thought of mentioning that Ginny rarely seemed to need any more time than he did to get ready but thought it would probably only irritate Ron further so he just shrugged as he replied, "I don't know, but judging by beauty alone, it should be you who takes longer."

Ron made a face at Harry which he returned. Neville, standing next to Ron, looked extremely nervous. "You all right, Neville?" Harry questioned his reticent friend. Neville nodded jerkily.

"Neville's got a date," Ron informed Harry conspiratorially. Harry drew closer to the arm of the sofa, so he could get a better look at the nervous boy.

"Really? Who with?" he asked and then Harry laughed as Neville, with cheeks flaming, quickly stammered out the name of one of the Ravenclaw girls Harry had forced upon him the other day. "Brilliant!" Harry congratulated his friend and Neville actually managed a timid smile.

Ron, bored quickly of the talk of Neville's conquest, stomped over to the stairs and called out impatiently, "Hurry up, Hermione!" He opened his mouth to shout some more but Hermione appeared then and Ron quickly snapped his mouth shut, his cheeks warming with a pleased blush. Hermione stepped into the common room; Ron smiled stupidly at her.

Harry, biting his lip to hide his grin, shook his head at his bumbling friend. Hermione was smiling shyly at Ron and Harry had to admit, she did look nice.

"Wow, Hermione," Ron breathed appreciatively and Hermione blushed in response. Not even moving his eyes from his girlfriend, Ron asked distractedly, "Ready, Harry?"

Wanting to answer in the negative, Harry pushed himself to his feet and waited for Hermione and Ron to quit staring at one another. "I'm ready," he accentuated pointedly. He shook his head as the mildly dazed pair turned and walked out the portrait hole. Harry and Neville followed them.

They walked down to the entrance hall, where Neville met his giggling date. Neville, stammering even more than he had in class, offered the Ravenclaw his elbow which she accepted with another titter. For some reason, the two overly nervous couples made Harry miss Ginny even more.

Most of the other students had already left through the big double doors and Harry leaned against a wall, watching them go. He straightened up automatically when he saw Snape spinning slowly down from Dumbledore's office; Remus was standing one step above him. Remus smiled when he saw Harry. Snape ignored Harry completely as he turned toward the dungeons, his dark robes flapping behind him. And even though Harry knew his father had no other choice right now, Harry couldn't help the frown that twisted his lip.

Remus' light touch against his shoulder made Harry jump a bit; he hadn't realized he was so jittery. "Ready for your detention?" his friend asked, his tone light. Harry nodded and with his nerves jangling ferociously, Harry turned and followed Remus down toward the dungeons.

They reached the Potions classroom much too quickly, but before Remus could push open the door, Harry grabbed his arm. Remus looked over at him in surprise. Harry felt sick. "I can't," he whispered.

Remus' eyes shone in concern; Harry looked away. "What's wrong?" Remus asked him.

Harry shook his head. "I just don't know how I'm supposed to..." He shook his head as he trailed off, his fingers twisting against Remus' sleeve.

Remus gingerly removed his arm from Harry's grasp and cupped a hand around the back of Harry's neck. He urged Harry to look up at him, and when Harry did, Remus smiled. The expression was an echo of that day in Mrs. Weasley's kitchen.

"It'll be alright," Remus promised quietly. Harry tried to nod but he ended up simply staring morosely into Remus' gentle eyes.

The door to Snape's classroom swung open. Harry turned toward the towering man in the doorway. The professor was glaring down at both of them; Remus removed his hand from Harry's neck.

"Do you intend to loiter outside my classroom all day?" Snape inquired, his voice ringing with sarcasm.

Keeping his gaze averted, Harry mutely shook his head and scooted past his father, and into the Potions classroom. He watched, his bottom lip clamped firmly between his teeth, as Snape slammed the door right in Remus' surprised face.

Snape spun around, the glare still firmly in place. But then his father's features shifted, so that he was only frowning slightly down at Harry. "Are you unwell?" he inquired.

Harry blinked in surprise at the bewildering question. "Sir?"

Snape's stern mouth turned down further. "You are pale," the man explained and took a quick step toward Harry, one of his hands reaching out to graze the palm against Harry's forehead.

Harry shook his head away from Snape's light touch, backing up a couple of steps. "I'm not sick," he denied.

Snape's hand fluttered uselessly back to his side and the familiar mask slipped back into place. Snape nodded curtly. "Was there something in particular you wished to accomplish today?" he asked.

Harry stared. "No, sir," he answered truthfully. He gestured half-heartedly to the sack slung over his shoulder. "I brought my assignments," he offered, hoping his father wouldn't accuse him of laziness...or perhaps procrastination. Snape was, after all, the one who had assigned Harry the two foot essay which was due on Tuesday. He hadn't even started it yet.

"I could use your help with a potion I am brewing," Snape informed him, his eyes narrowing slightly as he studied Harry.

Harry shrugged, turning his eyes toward the large blackboard in the front of the room.

"A verbal response is considered polite," Snape rebuked.

Harry turned his eyes back to the Professor. "Fine," he agreed and Harry swallowed as Snape's jaw tensed.

"Come, then," was all the man said and Harry had no choice but to follow Snape toward the Floo.

Side by side, they stepped into the classroom Floo and out of Snape's own. Snape didn't even pause; he continued on toward a door to the left. Harry followed him into a pristine lab, everything perfectly ordered and labeled. Harry grinned, somehow finding this room perfectly, well...Snapeish.

Harry stepped interestedly toward a gently bubbling cauldron.

"Do not touch anything," came Snape's sharp command.

Harry pulled back from the cauldron and asked curiously, "What is it?"

Snape began taking flasks and vials from a tall storage cabinet, glancing at Harry as he answered, "Wolfsbane."

Harry leaned toward the cauldron again. "When does Remus need to start taking it?" he asked as he reached a finger out toward the rim of the cauldron, though he was careful not to touch it.

Snape had finished organizing his little group of ingredients. He glowered at Harry and Harry brought his hand back away from the cauldron, his own lips turned down in a frown. How careless did his father think he was?

"Today," Snape informed him as he turned back to his supplies.

Harry didn't answer. He set his bag down on the floor, sliding it with his toe until it was underneath the table. Then he stood uncertainly, with his hands stuffed into the front pockets of his jeans.

"I need the stalks of three Juniper Roots sliced into half-inch pieces. The measurements need to be exact. Do you think you can manage that?"

Snape had trained his black eyes on Harry again and Harry stiffened at the question. "Yeah, I'm pretty sure even I can manage that," he said sarcastically.

"Excellent," Snape drawled, gesturing dismissively to the pile of Juniper Roots on the table.

Well this was certainly much more fun than a day in Hogsmeade would have been, Harry thought bitterly as he chose three roots from the pile. With a knife exactly like the one Snape had drawn blood with weeks ago, Harry began the meticulous chore of slicing. "What are we making?" Harry asked, not even bothering to temper his curt tone.

He saw Snape's hand tighten against the pestle he was holding. "We are adding to the Wolfsbane," his father told him, barely moving his lips as he spoke.

Harry stopped slicing as he looked up at Snape in surprise. "But Juniper's not an ingredient in Wolfsbane," he objected.

Snape's face relaxed a measure, as if the man was relieved he had known the ingredient list of Wolfsbane Potion. As if he was glad that his son wasn't a complete moron when it came to potions. "I have been working on an improved formulation," Snape explained and Harry forgot his annoyance.

"Improved? How does it work?" he wanted to know.

"Lupin no longer experiences the effect of the full moon."

"What?" Harry demanded, flabbergasted. "He's cured? Why didn't he tell me?" he asked, stunned and bewildered at this news. Remus didn't have to turn into a werewolf anymore? Ever?

Snape didn't even look up as he said dryly, "Perhaps because you never asked him."

Harry looked up sharply at the implication in Snape's statement. But before Harry could deny that he had been selfish in his friendship with Remus, Snape continued, "And, he has not been cured. The Potion simply allows Lupin to retain his strength and sanity during the three day period during which he used to lock himself away."

"Simply?" Harry repeated, amazed at what Snape was telling him. "That sounds pretty complicated to me...not to mention bloody brilliant!" he finished enthusiastically. Snape raised his eyebrows, as though in a shrug of acceptance of Harry's compliment. Feeling energized by the idea of helping his friend, Harry happily went back to his slicing, asking as he did, "How did you figure it out?"

Snape made a small noise, which might have been a snort, or a chuckle. "Albus and I have been working on the new formula for years. Lupin is not the only werewolf."

Harry nodded, beginning to understand. "So the Headmaster's trying to recruit werewolves to the fight against Voldemort?"

His father nodded. "Yes."

Harry finished slicing the last root. He set the knife down and moved the small pile close to the cauldron of simmering Potion. "Is that where Dumbledore went...to recruit werewolves?"

Snape hesitated before answering, "No. Add the slices, two by two," he directed. Harry complied with the first two pieces.

"But it does have to do with Voldemort, right?" Harry pressed, paying no attention to Snape's frown as he continued to put the slices in the cauldron. "Is he recruiting someone else?" he wondered, eyeing his father eagerly for an answer.

"The Headmaster's doings are not your concern," Snape told him, his voice harsher than it had been a moment ago.

Harry was not bothered by Snape's tone though. He leaned forward, his palms pressing against the warm table top. "Everything Dumbledore's been doing since I survived Voldemort's curse has concerned me though, hasn't it?" he reasoned. Harry's tone was filled only with curiosity and even Snape couldn't have accused him of insolence.

------

Severus narrowed his eyes at his son, taken aback by the lack of sarcasm in the boy's question. And he really didn't know how to respond. Harry was correct in that virtually everything the Headmaster had done during the past 15 years had somehow involved him. Severus did not want to answer in the affirmative however, and give Harry any more reason to search for further answers about Albus' whereabouts. Harry had enough to worry about without burdening himself with things he could not change.

"Harry," Severus finally said quietly, hoping the invocation of his son's name would still Harry's temper, "there are some things that you need not know."

Harry's jaw clenched. "Everyone's been telling me that for years...and they've all been wrong. If I had known more about Voldemort...about everything from the beginning, maybe Sirius wouldn't have had to die."

Harry's face revealed his deep distress and Severus wished he could somehow find a way to ease his son's pain. But he couldn't, because Harry had a point. As much as he'd hated the mutt, Black's death had been pointless...and avoidable. Even though Severus would have denied it vehemently during the past years, Harry was not stupid. Things might have turned out very differently if Albus had told Harry about the prophecy from the beginning.

Severus pursed his lips, thinking how best to respond but Harry turned away, dropping in the last two slices of Juniper Root. "Does Remus still need to take the Potion for a week?" Harry asked, changing the subject. And although his voice was soft, Severus knew he was still thinking about Black.

Severus obliged grudgingly to his son's wish to switch topics. "Yes. But it does not need to be fresh, as with the earlier version. Lupin can take a flask with him while he's away."

"Away?" Harry's cried as head shot up. "Where's he going?" he demanded, his voice rising in what Severus could only call panic. Severus frowned at his son. He had assumed Lupin would have told Harry already.

"He's leaving the castle this evening. He'll be away for several days," he offered and Harry's cheeks paled a bit.

"Where's he going?"

"He will be on an errand for the Headmaster," Severus explained and if possible, Harry's alarm seemed to heighten and Severus watched in disquiet as his son's hand trembled against his knife. Severus frowned further. Why should this news distress the boy so much?

"Is Dumbledore trying to kill everybody I care about?" Harry snapped suddenly, his voice sounding somewhat strangled. Severus stepped toward him, almost instinctively, but stilled abruptly as Harry stepped back a pace.

"I'm all right." The lie was even more transparent than the fear in his son's eyes.

"Lupin will be fine," Severus tried to tell him, keeping his tone purposely disinterested, hoping that Harry could see there was no reason for his excessive worry. But Harry folded his arms over his chest and snorted.

"Right. And I suppose next you're going to tell me that you'll be fine as well, once Voldemort finds out about us or even after he decides to kill you for his own amusement?" he asked sarcastically.

Severus raised an eyebrow in Harry's direction. "The Dark Lord is not going to kill me, Harry," he assured his son, trying to keep the amusement from his voice. Really, the child was overdramatic.

Severus was quite startled when Harry suddenly erupted, "Oh, would you stop calling him that? Voldemort. It's Voldemort! You're not a bloody Death Eater, dammit! Even Ginny and Hermione can use his name! Why can't you?"

Severus, in those next minutes, was extremely glad he had erected his shields when Harry had shown the first signs that morning of doing exactly what Albus and Lupin had assured Severus he would. The Potions master's pursed lips were the only outward sign of his inner irritation at Harry's outburst.

He told himself firmly that allowances had been made for Harry's disrespect for the past five years. And he insisted further, that it would do no good right now to chastise his son. Not when Harry was in such a fragile state.

Fragile? Merlin, what was he doing? Severus narrowed his eyes and remarked smoothly, "As you have never been a spy, you are not likely to understand."

Harry continued to glare at him. "Yeah, well...it was a right daft idea to become a spy for Voldemort in the first place," he muttered.

His temper gripping him, Severus retorted, "Would you have preferred me to allow Eileen to kill your mother?"

"She died anyway," Harry said with a little shrug, and Severus had to turn away. His rising fury was urging him, with a strong push, to shake his son. Severus drew in a deep breath and turned around again. Harry's face was deathly white and he was watching Severus, his lower lip trembling with either fear or anger, likely both.

Severus relaxed his jaw and forced calm to rule his tone. "I am not going to reject you." He saw no reason to continue this ridiculous scenario, no matter how the wolf had insisted that Harry would not realize he was testing him. It would be best to simply deal with whatever his son was feeling.

Perhaps not, Severus amended as Harry was staring at him, apparently dumbfounded by Severus' premature declaration. Severus swore silently as he heard the soft whoosh of the Floo, and both he and Harry turned toward the door.

Severus, so caught up in his tense interaction with his son, hadn't realized how long they'd been in his quarters. But surely it wasn't time already. Severus left the lab quickly, after placing a Stasis Charm over the waiting ingredients and telling Harry sternly to stay where he was.

Minerva's face was floating in his Floo.

"You are early," Severus told her.

Minerva pursed her lips in annoyance. "Albus needs to speak with me."

Severus nodded and directed, "Five minutes." Minerva nodded curtly and then she was gone.

Harry, for once, had actually listened; he was still waiting as the Potions Master came back into his lab. "We need to return to the classroom for a short time."

"Is something wrong?" Harry asked immediately, seeming to have forgotten that they had just had words.

"No. Come," Severus commanded and without another word, he and Harry were heading back into the Floo Network.

As soon as they stepped out of the classroom Floo, Severus pointed to the low table in front of his desk. Harry approached it and then turned back to stare at the Professor.

"I believe you know what to do with those," Severus said tonelessly as his son gaped at him.

"Frogs?" he asked incredulously.

"Consider it a punishment for your Privacy Spell in the common room." Severus spun around and went to sit behind his desk, smirking to himself as Harry sputtered.

-----

How the hell had Snape known about the Privacy Spell? Damn. He did know everything. Making a face, Harry took the first frog gingerly in one hand and made a careful slit down the dead amphibian's middle, deliberately ignoring the squeaky squelch of the flesh as it ripped open.

Harry pried the organs one by one out of the frog, glaring resentfully at his father with each pluck. Well that's what he got for actually talking to him. When Snape refused to acknowledge Harry's glower, Harry gave up and just concentrated on the task. As he began gutting the second frog, he thought about Snape's words in his private lab. What had he meant, he wasn't going anywhere?

There was a sharp rap on the classroom door; Harry glanced up. Snape waved his wand and the door creaked open. Harry groaned inwardly as Malfoy sauntered in, followed closely by a very annoyed-looking McGonagall, her face even more pinched than it normally was. Well it was no wonder, with that haughty sneer plastered all over the Slytherin's face.

"Minerva, Mr. Malfoy," Snape greeted and Harry narrowed his eyes in suspicion at the overly easy tone of his father's voice.

"Good morning, Professor. Lovely morning," Malfoy breezed, ignoring Harry completely as he swaggered toward Snape's desk.

"Forgive the intrusion," McGonagall apologized. "I won't be long," she promised and Snape nodded.

"It is no intrusion, Minerva. Take your time." Snape was definitely up to something, Harry decided as he turned back to his frogs, having to force himself not to glance up at his father.

"Thank you, Severus."

Snape inclined his dark head and McGonagall, with a glare at Malfoy, exited as swiftly as she had entered.

"Gutting frogs, Potter? Fitting," Malfoy smirked.

"Pity I can't give you something to suit you as well," Harry returned, his hand itching for his wand.

"I was not aware that conversation was part of your detention, Potter." Harry clenched his jaw, even though he knew Snape was playing a part right now. He returned unwillingly back to his punishment, trying not to think about how Malfoy was most likely grinning in glee at Snape's cold reprimand.

"Mr. Malfoy, come with me," Snape added to the Slytherin and though Harry didn't watch them go, he heard the soft click of his father's office door closing. Only then did Harry look up, pursing his lips as he futilely tried to hear something, anything from beyond the door.

What was Snape up to...with Malfoy, no less? Snape had said it was something that would be too dangerous for Harry to know about, but that told Harry very little. They always told him that...and every single time it had turned out that Harry would have fared much better with even just a bit of that 'dangerous' knowledge. Harry was very tempted to press his ear up against the door but he knew it would be pointless, not to mention incredibly stupid.

The door opened after a few minutes, and Harry hastily cut into another frog from the pile. He looked up again as Malfoy commented, "You'd think after all your detentions with Snape, you'd have the technique mastered by now, Potter."

Harry glared up at the self-serving Slytherin. "Unless you'd like to give it a try, Malfoy...sod off."

Malfoy tilted his head, as if he found Harry's crude suggestion merely curious and then the Slytherin walked right up to Harry and held out his manicured hand. Harry stared at him. "The knife, Potter," Malfoy explained, his fingers flexing toward the tool in Harry's fist.

Harry made a face at Malfoy. "Sure, Malfoy. I'll just let you do my work and then Snape'll come out here and give me another detention for my trouble."

Malfoy frowned at him and then shrugged and drew out his wand, pointing it in Harry's direction. Without even pausing to think, Harry had his wand out, aiming it straight at Malfoy's chest.

"Drop it," Harry ordered and Malfoy actually laughed.

"Oh, Brilliant, Potter. You think I want to hex you even though McGonagall's coming right back? Even a Gryffindor should recognize the flaw in that plan," he chortled and Harry gritted his teeth, feeling extremely foolish.

"I'm surprised you're able to recognize the flaw, Malfoy...I didn't realize Slytherins could even think," Harry jibed, keeping his wand steady.

Malfoy sniffed disdainfully at the insult. "As if Gryffindor is full of intelligence. Your little blood traitor friends certainly aren't, especially Weasley after his little mishap at the Ministry of Magic last term," he said with an ugly smirk.

"I'd much rather have 'blood traitor' friends than a coward of a father who has nothing better to do than kiss the arse of a murdering psychopath," Harry retorted, his voice turning hard.

Malfoy's wand hand lifted ever so slightly, so that his wand actually was aimed at Harry this time. "You don't know anything about my father, Potter" the other boy bit out.

"All I need to know is that your father is a Death Eater," Harry told Malfoy scornfully.

Malfoy's nostrils flared. "And just what is your father, Potter? Oh, that's right. He's dead, along with your Mudblood mother, who got herself killed saving your worthless life."

His rage complete, Harry demanded loudly, "Expelliarmus," and Malfoy's wand flew from the other boy's grip. "Take it back, Malfoy," Harry ordered the Slytherin, as he leveled his wand straight between Malfoy's perfectly plucked eyebrows.

"Lower your wand, Mr. Potter," Snape's low voice ordered from near his office. Harry didn't even look at him. "Now," his father hissed and then he had Harry's wand arm in a firm grip, though there was virtually no pressure applied, while Malfoy's wand was plucked out of his other hand.

"Let go of me!" Harry insisted but his father ignored him and then Harry was being spun around in the same direction Snape had just come from.

"Get in my office," Snape commanded fiercely and used his grip to propel Harry toward the open door. Harry set his jaw and complied, though he stomped more than walked through the doorway, slamming the door loudly behind him.

"This is your idea of following orders?" his father's voice hissed from the other side of the door.

Apparently Snape's Silencing Spells only worked one way. Grimacing, Harry pressed himself closer to the door, trying to quiet his breathing so he could hear.

"I'm sick of your orders!" Malfoy claimed and Harry heard the crash of wood against stone out in the classroom, although he couldn't be certain which of the Slytherins was having a tantrum. Harry figured they were both equally likely to be.

"You know perfectly well that these are you father's instructions, Draco."

Draco? Harry's stomach danced.

"Sod my father!" Malfoy yelled; another crash followed.

"You're father is trying to protect you," Snape tried to tell his Slytherin, apparently ignoring what Harry now knew was Malfoy's childish tantrum.

"He should have thought of that before he joined You Know You. Instead, I'm supposed to become a murderer!" Malfoy's voice was hysterical now and Harry's heart was hammering in his chest. A murderer?

Snape's voice was quieter as he answered, though there was not a hint of gentleness in the tone as he stated matter of factly, "You are not going to murder him, Draco."

"But Dumbledore-" Draco started to protest.

"Dumbledore has taken care of everything. He's been preparing for this for a long time."

"And what about Potter? That prat deserves-"

"Mr. Potter is not your concern. I have him under control," his father told the Slytherin boy smoothly and Harry began to tremble. Under control? What in the bleeding hell did Snape mean by that?

"But his werewolf is leaving."

"Who told you that?" Snape asked sharply.

"I have sources as well, you know," Malfoy answered smugly. Harry heard his father utter a particularly foul curse and Harry knew at once that he had to see Remus. Where ever Remus was going, it was obvious nobody, especially those who associated with the Malfoys, was supposed to know about it. And, no matter what Dumbledore or Snape had to say about it, Harry wasn't going to let Remus go off to be killed...or worse.

The Floo was right in front of him and Harry, with an irrational tug in his chest, moved toward the fireplace. He wasn't going to wait around here while Snape and his pet Slytherin nonchalantly discussed whether or not Malfoy was going to become a murderer.

Harry had no idea whose murder it was they were trying to avoid, but Harry was certain his own fate would be sealed as soon as his father realized Harry had left the office. But even the threat of a slow, torturous death meant very little to Harry right now. And if Snape was going to share his secret plans with the likes of Draco Malfoy and leave Harry completely in the dark, well then his father could just go to hell. Ignoring his conscious as it screamed at him this time to stay put, Harry grabbed a handful of powder and threw it down, calling out quietly, "Remus Lupin's quarters-Hogwarts!"