A Reflection of Himself

Strange.

It was strange that four months had passed with nary a summon from the Dark Lord... and it was unnerving as hell to say the least. Day upon day that passed meshed into week after week that passed just as quickly and eventlessly, and all the while, a feeling of foreboding grew in the suppressed subconscious part of Snape's mind. As he looked out the window from the Headmaster's office that fine spring day, he couldn't help but to feel uneasy over the whole situation... or lack thereof. What was the Dark Lord planning? Was he merely biding his time, or had something been found out, something that Snape didn't know, and thus couldn't tell the Order?

"Sherbert lemon?" Dumbledore's persistently benevolent voice inquired, bringing an end to Snape's contemplations.

Whirling around, his black robes swishing to the side in the typical eloquence of the Potions Master's every move, Snape glowered at Dumbledore. Without a single word or even a non-commital noise, he strode across the room and sat down in one of the armchairs near the fireplace. Over the years, it would seem that Dumbledore had never once grown tired of the same repetitive meetings with the Potions Master, but Snape, on the other hand, felt he had rolled his black eyes one too many times at the Headmaster's attempts to keep their frequent meetings conserved to the same normalcy, if one could call anything Dumbledore did normal, time and again.

Dumbledore took the seat opposite of Snape and asked, "Am I to assume, then, that there has been no word?"

"Don't you think I would have told you if there had been, Albus?" Snape sneered.

"Well, of course, my boy," Dumbledore acquiesced, "but it never hurts to ask."

Risking a glance at the old codger's face, Snape's scowl deepened. How can he be so damned cheery at a time like this?

"Indeed, Headmaster," Snape murmured sourly.

Sighing, Dumbledore said, "Well?"

Finally, Snape had had enough of Dumbledore's innocent tone that harbored a very pressing undertone. He had not even bothered to take a sip of the proffered cup of tea that had been methodically placed in front of him upon his arrival, and he was already in a testy mood. The students had started to get what all the professors referred to as the "spring jitters," and so, they were even more intolerable during the spring time as the end of the year grew nearer and nearer than they were during any other time of the year.

"Well, what?!" Snape exclaimed, standing up, furrowing his eyebrows. "What is it you want me to say, Headmaster, that will somehow put your mind at ease? He clearly stated last summer that there would be more deaths... and he would start with those closest to Harry Potter. Well, there have been more deaths, but many of them have been on families of Muggle-borns and Half-bloods. There is truly no clear pattern, and I have not received any word since December as to what he is planning. I realize as much as you do that the end of the school year is quickly coming upon us, and as is usual, there will most likely be an attack at that time. Your guess is as good as mine, Albus."

During his outburst, Snape had started pacing the room. It pained Dumbledore to no end to see the younger man in such a state, for he had seen similar outrages many times before from Snape, but that never changed anything. Unable to stand watching such a thing, Dumbledore said calmly, "Please, sit down, Severus."

Casting an irate glare in the Headmaster's direction, Snape returned to his seat and slumped into the chair.

"My mind is hardly at ease, Severus," Dumbledore continued wearily. "We will have to arrange for an Order meeting very soon, though. My suspicions regarding the Ministry's involvement - or lack thereof - in this whole war are growing by the day. Luckily for us, elections are next month. I, for one, would like to see a Minister appointed who will assist the Order, not one who first denies everything we stand for and then goes on to do absolutely nothing, despite the fact that he has seen Voldemort with his own two eyes."

Snape visibly cringed upon hearing Voldemort's name uttered from Dumbledore's aged mouth, but he was too tired to correct the Headmaster. It seemed that Dumbledore's tongue oftentimes slipped when speaking of the Dark Lord in front of Snape, and sometimes Snape wondered if Dumbledore did so on purpose, for every time he heard the foul name of Voldemort mentioned, it only served as a further reminder to Snape of his past actions, of which he was utterly ashamed.

"You and I both know, Albus, that there are other... questionable individuals working at the Ministry. Lucius Malfoy was not the only one, and I must say that it is surprising that he has been kept in Azkaban as long as he has without the Dementors acting as guards," Snape muttered, shaking his head.

"Indeed," Dumbledore murmured quietly, shaking his head slowly. "Well, that is enough for now, I suppose."

Nodding, Snape stood up and left the Headmaster's office. Retreating to his chambers, he proceeded to undertake the unpleasant task of grading the papers of incompetent students who didn't seem to care a bit about the fine art that was potion-making.

"This totally stinks," Ron complained vehemently as he sunk back into one of the deep armchairs in the Gryffindor common room.

"Yeah, tell me about it," Harry mumbled. "Six months and no visits to Hogsmeade."

"Well," Hermione said knowingly, "it's only for our safely, you know. Even with extra Aurors stationed in the village, it would be far too risky to allow students to wander through the streets."

"You sound just like McGonagall," Ron muttered, to which Hermione just rolled her eyes.

"Well," Ginny said, "at least the weather's nice again."

"Yeah," Ron grumbled, "and all the more reason we should be doing something instead of just moping about like a bunch of useless..."

"Oh, Ron!" Hermione exclaimed, playfully shoving him. "You shouldn't complain so much! There's still the grounds-"

"Hey!" Ron laughed. "Stop it!"

Hermione suddenly jumped out of her seat and tackled Ron, pinning him to the back of the chair. Harry glanced at Ginny questioningly, quite surprised at the display in front of them. Ginny just smiled back at Harry as if she knew something he didn't.

"Er," Harry said. "Not to interrupt your... playtime, but what's this all about?"

"Are you really so clueless, Harry?" Hermione asked. Then, she frowned, remembering how clueless Harry had been indeed for several months on end until recently.

Harry felt a bit taken aback by Hermione's comment and frowned. Defensively, he replied, "Hey, I told you I was sorry a couple of months ago-"

"I know; I know!" Hermione exclaimed. "Harry, I didn't mean it that way. I was just teasing..."

"Oh," Harry said dumbly.

"Do you want to tell him, Ron?" Hermione whispered, smiling, to Ron.

"Sure, 'Mione," Ron smiled back. Facing Harry, Ron said, "Well, we're kind of... going out."

"Kind of?" Hermione implored, glaring mockingly at Ron.

Flushing a deep shade of red, Ron amended, "All right, we're going out."

"Really?" Harry asked. "Wow, that's... that's great, guys. How long has this been going on, and, er, why didn't you tell me sooner?"

Here, Ginny interjected, "Oh, Harry, don't take it like that. We just thought it would be best for you to find out on your own. I mean-"

My two best friends have been going steady, and I didn't even know about it? Harry thought, suddenly feeling really guilty.

"It's been for most of the year, actually," Hermione explained, "although it's gradually gotten more... serious."

"Yeah, pretty much," Ron agreed, his eyes back on Hermione.

"Wow... well..." Harry said a bit awkwardly, "I'm happy for you both. Truly."

Harry managed a small smile and stood up, something feeling not quite right inside.

"I, uh... I need to go study," Harry lied.

"Sure thing, mate," Ron said easily enough, his attention still very much on Hermione. Ginny merely frowned at Harry's retreating form, but she made no effort to stop him.

As Harry left his friends, he realized yet again how different he felt from them. For years, it had always been the three of them, and they had all been best friends, but then, last year, their group had grown to include Ginny, Neville, and Luna to an extent. Now, things were changing. It was true that Harry had feelings for Ginny and vise-versa, but this seemingly new development was unnerving to Harry. It was strange seeing Ron and Hermione acting so... in love. Even though he knew that he had Ginny, Harry still oftentimes felt awkward and unsure of himself when it came to matters of the heart. A part of him felt hurt and betrayed that neither Ron nor Hermione had shared any of their thoughts with him regarding their falling for each other. Maybe it would have been too awkward, too weird, but all the same, Harry couldn't help how he felt. Realizing his own guilt, Harry knew that he hadn't told them much as far as his thoughts were concerned, either, and then, for the first time in years, Harry wondered if his friends and he were growing apart instead of closer.

All these thoughts made him realize that he needed desperately to do something to try to prove to Ginny, at least, that he loved her. If Ron and Hermione were going to be so head-over-heels in love, then Harry knew it only made sense that he feel the same way about Ginny, right? At least that was what his sixteen-year-old mind reckoned.

And who better to see for advice on matters of the heart than Sirius.

Later that day, Harry was in Lupin's office. While Lupin was meeting with Dumbledore to discuss some things involving the class or whatnot, Harry had free access to his office, and he didn't need to worry about disrupting Lupin while he was trying to work.

"I want to do something special for her," Harry simply stated, looking Sirius squarely in the eyes.

Sirius was surprised at the seriousness in Harry's tone, for even though he knew of Harry's relationship with Ginny, he didn't know it was this serious.

"Wow, Harry," Sirius remarked in awe. "What brought this on all of a sudden?"

Harry shrugged his shoulders, feigning innocence on the manner, but Sirius knew better.

"Oh, no, you're not fooling me that easy, Harry," Sirius taunted. "Come on, you can tell me."

"Well," Harry sighed, "it's Ron and Hermione... They're kind of - no, they are - going out. It's just really, I dunno, weird, you know?"

"Hmmm," Sirius reflected, thinking back to his days as a teenager. "Well, it's hardly unusual for two young people to go for each other when there's a mutual attraction. See, there was always competition between your father and myself over which one of us could find the most attractive woman..."

Harry snorted. "Oh, really?"

"Really," Sirius said haughtily. "Well, young man, if you wanna take the lady to a really nice spot to just, you know, get away, then I suggest the hilly area just outside of the village. There are lots of trees, so it's really quite hidden and secluded-"

"And completely off limits," Harry scowled.

"Oh, come off it, Harry. I know you're technically supposed to stay in Hogsmeade during any trip there, but students sneak off to the surrounding areas all the time."

"No, it's not that, Sirius... Don't you remember? We can't visit Hogsmeade at all, not after-"

"Oh... right," Sirius replied slowly, realization striking him over what Harry had told him had occurred in Hogsmeade back in the fall. "Well, still... surely you've got your Invisibility Cloak and the Marauder's Map, right?"

"I dunno, Sirius..." Harry shook his head. "Too risky..."

Shrugging, Sirius said, "Yeah... it's your call, Harry. I guess times aren't like they were when I was young. Still, it's a real shame you can't give your lady a nice outing..."

"What's so remarkable about this place, anyway?" Harry inquired curiously.

"Well, let me tell you," Sirius said knowingly. "I was dating a fellow Gryffindor... a year younger than me - or was it two? Anyway, her name was Laura Williams. Most gorgeous eyes I've ever seen... Well, it was just the two of us that day, and, Harry, trust me when I say that we had the place to ourselves the whole day... no teachers catching us and deducting house points, no other students getting in the way - oh, wait..."

"What?" Harry asked, wondering why Sirius had suddenly stopped.

"Are you sure you really want to know, Harry?" Sirius countered.

"Well, you started telling me this story, and now I wanna know how it ends," Harry replied a bit impatiently, his green eyes fixed on Sirius.

"All right, fine," Sirius sighed, "but don't say I didn't warn you. Well, there we were, enjoying ourselves immensely, and suddenly, I thought I heard a familiar voice..."

"Lily?!" Sirius called out, standing up.

Laura frowned at Sirius, trying to pull him back down to the ground, where she was sitting on a blanket.

"Just a sec," Sirius said, distracted.

Laura frowned at him and crossed her arms impatiently over the front of her body. Sirius began walking in the direction of what he was sure was Lily's voice. Then, he saw her.

Sirius stopped, gaping in utter disgust at the scene before him.

"Oh, Severus," Lily purred, smiling. "You really shouldn't-"

"I shouldn't what?" Severus teased, returning the smile. Bringing his slender hand to her chin, he gently lifted her face until they were gazing into each other's eyes at the same level. "Do this?" he asked softly, bringing his lips to hers in a sweet kiss.

Lily leaned into the kiss and brought her arms around his neck, pulling him closer. Suddenly, the kiss was broken, and Severus found himself being pinned to the ground by a stronger and bigger man. And then, before he could even react, he felt a nauseating pain in the middle of his face and felt a wet warmth trickling down, covering his lips. Blood.

"You worthless, greasy git!" Sirius bellowed at Severus, his hands fisted and his arms raised. "You keep your disgusting Slytherin hands - and mouth - off her!"

Bringing his hand to his face, Severus realized that his nose was bleeding profusely. It had probably been broken. A rush of adrenaline combined with rage coursed through his veins as he reached for his wand and pointed it directly at Sirius.

Then, Lily came between them.

"Stop it!" she cried, tears pouring from her eyes. "Please!" she begged.

"Move out of the way, Lily!" Sirius yelled. "Snivellus needs to learn a thing or two about-"

"No!" Lily pleaded. Then, facing Sirius squarely and fixing him with a hateful glare, Lily spat, "Just leave him alone already! Don't you ever give up? You and James..."

Sirius didn't say a word, but before he left, Severus turned on his heel and ran off.

"Severus!" Lily called desperately after his retreating form, but it was too late...

"And that's what happened," Sirius frowned. "Geez, Harry, I didn't want to tell you about that, but since you asked..."

"My mum and... Snape?" Harry asked incredulously. "But..."

Shaking his head, Sirius said, "We were young. What can I say? I'm not proud of what I did, Harry, but it's the truth. Doesn't mean I can stand that git any more now, but-"

"But you know it was wrong," Harry finished.

"Yes," Sirius sighed. "Look, Harry, your mum was a great woman... really kind and understanding. It looks like you've found yourself a great young lady just like her in so many ways. Do something special for her."

Nodding, Harry stood up from his seat and said, "Thanks, Sirius... I guess I ought to be getting back to the common room now."

Sirius wished him goodbye, and as Harry left Lupin's office, he couldn't get the thought of Snape and his mother out of his mind. If someone had told him such a thing just a few months prior, Harry would have been disgusted as well, for, like most people, Harry would have wondered how anyone could ever kiss someone like Snape, but Harry had since then come to realize that Snape was just a man, a man who had strengths and weaknesses like everyone else.

And there he was... walking in the opposite direction past Harry.

"Professor," Harry called out.

Caught by surprise, Snape stopped mid-stride. "Potter?"

What am I doing? Harry asked himself.

Snape raised an inquiring eyebrow at Harry as the boy simply stood there, staring at him. "Well? Was there a reason for stopping me, Potter, or did you just think it funny to-"

"No, sir," Harry interrupted quickly, which made Snape scowl. "I mean... Why didn't you ever tell me about-"

"About what?" Snape spat, growing impatient.

"About my mother?"

Whatever Snape thought Harry was going to ask him, that was the last thing he thought his ears would hear.

"What about your mother?" Snape sneered.

"You and her... together," Harry said simply.

Paling even more than usual, Snape said in a dangerously low voice, "And what, pray, are you referring to?"

"Sir, I know, all right? Don't pretend like you never-"

"Oh, you know, do you, Potter?" Snape said sarcastically. "And are you proud to rub it in? I suppose you heard from either your beloved godfather or your werewolf friend. No doubt they told you how... revolting... it must have been, knowing that the perfect Lily Evans was in love with the likes of me, but not really in love, of course... more just taking pity..."

"Stop feeling sorry for yourself!" Harry exclaimed exasperately. "No, for your information, Snape, Sirius simply told me what happened one day when he found the two of you together in the hills outside of Hogsmeade, and, to be honest, he isn't proud of what he did to you, all right?"

Snape snorted in complete disbelief.

"And for the record, sir," Harry said evenly, "I don't think it was revolting. From what people've told me about my mum, they say she was a very kind person-"

"Yes, kind even to the likes of me," Snape whispered, staring off in the distance, a far-off look haunting his dark eyes.

Awe-struck, Harry just stared at the man who he had for so long labelled as horrible, mean, cruel, and so many other vile things. Yes, Snape was just a man, and it was quite apparent that he had feelings just like everyone else.

That moment was cut short, though, when a searing pain burned on Snape's left forearm. Clutching his arm convulsively, Snape swept down the hallway to the dungeons to gather his robe and mask for the meeting. As Harry was left standing there, he, too, was snapped out of his brief daze and felt slapped in the forehead with the burning of his scar.

Voldemort was calling.