I am just playing with J.K. Rowlings world. All characters, places, names and things recognizable belong to her and her alone.

I will try to update every other week, hopefully faster, but I am in the middle of my final exams in college and don't have much time. I will try, however.

Chapter One:

Harry sat in his room in Privet Drive, thinking nothing. He couldn't think of anything but despair. Dumbledore was dead. The greatest wizard the Wizarding World had ever seen was gone. He would be of no help against Voldemort anymore. How could he fulfill the quest, Dumbledore had given him? How to find the Horcruxes? He knew, that they would not make it on their own. They were just kids, how could they stand up to a powerful dark wizard like Voldemort. Of course, Dumbledore trusted him and thought that he would be up to the part. But Harry knew better. They hadn't even finished their education yet. And he knew, that he couldn't go back to Hogwarts. It was too dangerous to return now. It would be only a matter of weeks, maybe one or two months, and the ministry and with that Hogwarts, would be in the hands of Voldemort.

Harry thought back on that fateful night, when they had been looking for Slytherin's locket. His fist crashed on the table. So stupid, he thought. What a waste of time. It had not even been the real locket, they had found on the bottom of the basin. The draining of the basin had left Dumbledore so weak, that he couldn't defend himself, when they had come back to Hogwarts. Harry had looked on helplessly, hidden under his Invisible Cloak, as Dumbledore got surrounded by Draco Malfoy and the gang of Death Eaters. He had been horrorstruck, when Severus Snape had come out in the open and had performed the curse that had taken Dumbledore's life. He had not been able to move a muscle nor to defend himself or Dumbledore. Thinking of Snape and Malfoy just made Harry angrier. He jumped up and started pacing, up and down. Suddenly, he heard a sound from the room next door. He froze. But then a loud snore reverberated throughout the house and he relaxed again, restarting his left off pacing. He opened the window to let in a little fresh air, because he felt hot flushes coloring his cheeks, now that he thought of the two traitors. He turned around and picked up a little box from the table. In the box was a golden locket. Upon seeing it, Harry felt the abated anger flare up again. It was just not fair.

It was nearly midnight now and Harry still felt no desire to go to sleep. What wouldn't he give for a chance of getting revenge on Snape and Malfoy. It was frustrating to stay in the house and do nothing. But he had promised Dumbledore to stay at his Aunt's house until he would turn seventeen. His birthday was in two days. He would have to endure two miserable days with the Dursleys. They had been even more intolerable, after he came home from Hogwarts. The only bright spot he could make out at the horizon was wedding of Bill and Fleur, which was to take place sometime in August. He was sure that he would be attending, since he planned on travelling to the Weasleys on his birthday anyway. Then, finally, nobody had the right to tell him anything anymore and to forbid him to eat, sleep, drink and a lot of other things. The clock on his nightstand struck twelve and with a sigh, Harry went to bed. He closed his eyes and tried to sleep. but sleep didn't come for a very long time.

The next two days weren't happy for Harry. Aunt Petunia seemed to have discovered a new and nastier side in herself and found harder and more tedious work for Harry to do in the Garden. She seemed to enjoy that he was sweating, while Dudley was sitting under a sunscreen and drinking sweet, cool sodas and licking ice cream. Not once did she ask Harry to come into the house to cool off. Harry didn't complain. He knew it was pointless. On the second day, after he had mowed the lawn, weeded the garden, got rid of several moles that had recently inhabited Aunt Petunia's garden and finally distributed new gravel in the driveway, all the while having Dudley sitting around, singing silly songs and haunting Harry about his thin frame and the too large clothes he wore, he trudged upstairs, making it barely into his room and to his bed. Not even after he was done with his chores had Aunt Petunia given him something to drink or to eat. But right now Harry was too tired to think about that. All he wanted was to got to bed and sleep for about twenty hours.

When he woke up, it was pitch dark in the room. Harry lay very still in his bed and listened. There was someone downstairs. He could rather feel than hear someone creeping upstairs. Slowly the feeling of someone magical coming nearer got stronger and Harry felt after his wand, which he had deposited on his nightstand. He gripped it firmly and pointed it toward the door. He had only done so, when the door opened slowly. Harry couldn't see anything, but now he felt a very strong magical presence in standing in the door.

It came without warning. A jet of bright light flew towards him and everything became pitch black.

Slowly, Harry came to his senses. The sun was shining through high-arched windows. The room he was in was richly decorated. The bed was a four-poster bed with thick silver curtains. The wood of the bed was painted in a bright green. There was a small sitting group at one of the windows and in the fireplace was a fire going. It could have been a cozy and comfortable place for Harry after the cramped room at the Dursleys, was it not for the fact, that he was magically bound to the bed. He couldn't move a muscle, even though he really tried. Who had brought him here, he thought. What was he doing here? Why was he here and why was he bound? The answer to the last question came a few minutes later through the door. It opened and in came a tall thin person with curtains of black hair, a sallow face and a hooked nose. Harry went rigid. It was a good thing that he was bound, he would have ripped out the other man's throat with his bare hand.

"Snape," he spat. He felt unnatural hatred and loathing flaring up in his stomach and he glared at the loathsome figure.

Severus Snape walked into the room, conjured up a chair and sat down next to the bed. "How are you doing, Mr. Potter?" he asked genially. Harry was furious. How could this monster be so calm? "What are you doing here? What do you want? You want to kill me like you did Dumbledore? Go ahead, kill me. Lord Voldemort will be happy, I think. Finally no one that will fight against him and his will to conquer the world. If you want this on your conscious, than so be it." Harry looked at Snape defiantly and waited for the explosion.

The explosion never came. Snape continued to watch him in a calm way and waited. Harry didn't know what to think of it and he was about to start saying more, when the door opened again and another person walked in. This time it was Draco Malfoy. Harry nearly threw a fit. He was so outraged, that he couldn't talk at all. He expected Malfoy to come over to him, haunt him and jeer at him for his inexperience in fighting Dark Wizards and being overwhelmed so quickly.

But Malfoy only walked over to Snape, after looking briefly at Harry, and stood next to the chair, Snape was sitting in. For a long moment nothing was said and the room was very quiet. Then Snape spoke.

"Harry, I have brought you here on Dumbledore's orders." When Harry tried to speak and ask questions, Snape held up a hand.

"Stop talking. Let me explain." Snape looked at him intently and Harry stayed silent. Snape's voice was so unlike anything, Harry had heard from him so far in the classroom. It was creepy. It gave Harry goose bumps, because he was sure that this boded nothing good.

"I understand that you are angry. I understand that you mourn Dumbledore. And I understand that you want nothing more than to get the chance to kill Draco and me." From the inside of his robes, Snape withdrew several small glass vials filled with what looked like white smoke. Harry knew that they were memories. "I want you to look at these memories. They are Albus's memories. I can assure you that these are true, but you probably won't believe me. Albus told me, that he showed you how a tampered memory looked like, so I believe you will see that I speak the truth." He looked at Harry apprehensively and asked, "Can I loose your bonds now without you trying to kill us?" Harry had conflicting feelings in his chest. But he had no wand and so he knew that for now the only thing he could do was to do what Snape told him. It didn't taste well with him, but there was no other choice.

"Will I get my wand back, when I have watched the memories?" he asked.

Severus nodded. "I promise you that."

"How can I be sure of that?" Harry asked scathingly.

Severus didn't answer, but instead got up to his feet, went over to Harry and unbound him. Then he placed his hand on Harry's chest and spoke in an ancient. Harry gaped. He knew this language. Dumbledore had told him about this. The only Wizarding ritual that was performed in this language was the oldest and most pure form of magic one could perform. And what was more, only true wizards and light ones at that had the ability to perform it. If dark wizards would attempt to perform the ritual they would instantly become dust, because the magic didn't suffer dark wizards to misuse this kind of magic. This was a clever thing of Snape to do, Harry thought. He had to believe that Snape was telling the truth, because he could not have murdered Dumbledore and the performed the ritual and lived to tell the tale if he was a dark wizard. Dumbledore must have given his consent before the fatal scene on the astronomy tower happened; this was the only explanation.

"I think I will have to believe you then," Harry answered curtly. "Let me see the memories."

Snape went to a nearby table and poured the memories in pensieve standing there. Harry went over to the table, bowed his head until he touched the liquid mass and was sucked into it.

Severus and Draco stood motionless in the room and waited. They didn't talk. Each of them had their own thoughts to deal with and these thoughts had a lot do with, how Harry would react to the truths he would see in those memories. There was so much at stake, Severus thought. Harry has to understand; he has to accept my role as a spy and Draco's return to the light. If they wanted to defeat the Dark Lord, they had to get Harry on their side. There was so much, this boy needed to know and only he, Severus, could give him the information.

After a very long time, Harry arrived back out of the pensieve. He stood with his back to them, looking out of the window. He didn't speak. He didn't move. Neither did Draco and Severus. Then, finally, Harry did turn around. He focused on some spot between Severus and Draco and started to speak.

"I believe," he whispered. "I don't understand all of it, but I believe." Then he broke down and cried.

Severus started to walk over to the boy, but Draco was faster. In the blink of an eye the pale haired boy was at Harry's side, kneeling next to him and putting his arm around him. He was whispering calming nonsense into his ears. It was so unlike Draco that Severus couldn't help but stare at him. What brought that on? Then he remembered. He remembered the night two days ago, when Narcissa had come into his room. She had told him a secret, a secret that Lucius and herself had kept so well, that nobody had ever suspected anything: She was Harry's godmother.

In secret, Narcissa had been one of Lily's very best friends in school and after Harry's birth, Lily had, without James's consent, made Narcissa Harry's godmother, so that there would be someone to take care of him, if there should anything happen to her and James. She hadn't trusted Black and Pettigrew and, after what had then happened, she had been very smart in this respect.

True, Black had not been the Secret Keeper, but he would have not been a could influence on Harry and Severus was secretly glad, that Sirius didn't have any hold on the boy. Yes, Harry had an impossible huge ability to love. He had never seen a person with so much love inside him. Not even Lily, and she had been one of the purest so far. He had to admit to himself, even though he could not show it, that Harry right now must be the purest person on earth. And this was to be his greatest weapon against Voldemort.

Severus looked back to the boys. He had become distracted while he had mused over the astonishing things he had learned the last few days from Lucius and Narcissa. Draco now sat on the ground, Harry head in his lap and stroking his hair. This did not seem ridiculous and weird, but it seemed like it came natural to him. Harry was his godbrother, and so it was only right that Draco should comfort him in times like these. Harry evidently hadn't even realized that it was Draco who was holding him, because he had his eyes tightly shut and tears were running down his cheeks.

The door opened quietly and Narcissa Malfoy walked into the room. She stopped when she saw her son and godson on the floor. She looked at Severus and smiled. Then she walked over to Harry and Draco and gently touched Draco's arm. Draco looked up and saw her. Narcissa let herself gracefully down on the floor and took over from Draco. Draco got up and went over to where Severus was standing.

"Do you think he will be all right?" he whispered to Severus.

Severus shrugged his shoulders. "I think so. I hope, your mom can explain everything to him. At the least the bit about her being his godmother and you being his godbrother now. Hopefully the knowledge that he won't have to return to the Dursleys now, will help a little with him coming around to see the truth."

"You acted very convincingly on the night of the battle," Draco said. "I really hope that Harry can forget that. Otherwise it will eat him up and he won't be any help at all in getting Voldemort finished."

Severus nodded his head. "You are right. He has to understand, even if he doesn't like it. Maybe we can work on something to make the transition easier for him. Let us think of the Horcruxes again and see, if we can help him in that department a little bit."

They both turned their attention back toward the scene on the floor. Harry had stopped crying and was now sleeping in Narcissa's arms. She was humming softly and rocking him gently back and forth. Her look was everything, Severus needed and he tucked on Draco's sleeve.

"Come on, Draco. Let's leave your mother and her godson alone for some time."

He put an arm around Draco's shoulder and walked him out of the room.

Authors note:

So this is the first chapter of a story, that I hope you all will like.

Again, I don't know how often I can update but I will try to update as much as possible and as fast as the muse is willing to give me ideas. If you have any ideas, then please review the story and give me constructive feedback, which will be greatly appreciated.