Disclaimer: I don't own anything but Mavis and my ideas.

Enjoy!

Harry Potter had a lot of baggage. Baggage that he dealt with in stride every single day since he was old enough to understand things that went on around him. He did not deal with it in what people would call healthy ways, but he managed. However, he had not yet dealt with something as traumatic and painful as Sirius's death, and it sent him over the edge.

Ever since the world was informed of Voldemort's return to power and Sirius Black's pardon with an Order of Merlin First Class, Harry has been bombarded everywhere except the one place he did not feel safe - Privet Drive. He had known abuse and neglect all his life, at least what he could remember, but the previous summer had been pure hell. His uncle's drinking had gotten out of hand, and since the only time he could drink without Petunia nagging him senseless was when she and Dudley were out of the house. This was, unfortunately, fairly frequent, and this summer was no different. Dudley had strangely taken to slipping Harry food at odd hours when his parents weren't looking, but since Petunia tried to get him out as much as possible, and since Dudley made a friend, the amount of food that Harry received dwindled.

Except for the fact that in addition to the Cedric dreams and usual Voldemort nightmares, he now had nightmares about losing Sirius. Vernon took much delight in beating him for this. He could make any excuse, but using Harry's emotional pain against him gave Vernon immense pleasure. Harry was able to take this last year, but not now that it involved Sirius.

He cut a thin line across the underside of his left arm, hissing in the wonderful pain it caused. He started cutting two years ago, but sparsely. Here and there to relieve stress or anger. This summer, it had become an addiction. And Vernon loved it. He reveled in it and boasted to Harry that he was the sole cause, even though he was only part of it. Harry didn't care enough to correct him, and he couldn't stop. He used it for what it was good for, and it helped him cope. So he let Vernon think whatever he wanted.

He felt silly blasting Papa Roach's emo-bordering music while he cut himself, even though no one was around. He chuckled and shook his head, but dark music helped for some reason. It made him feel more alive knowing other people shared his pain. Suddenly light flooded his room and he shot his head up in shock, staring at Dudley's equally shocked face. They stared at each other for what seemed like heart-pounding eternity to Harry until Dudley moved to turn the stereo down.

"Cut my life into pieces
This is my last resort"

"Interesting choice of music..." Dudley said, grasping for words. Harry just stared at him. He motioned to Harry's arm, which Harry was now wiping with a cloth. "Do you do that because of us?"

"What do you think?" Harry asked scathingly.

His cousin actually looked guilty. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

Harry was flabbergasted. "Sorry? You're sorry? After all these years, you're sorry."

"Yes, Harry. People can change, okay?"

"Change? Sorry, change, what is this? Some kind of weird Dudley joke? I don't know what you're playing at, but you can't use this against me. Daddykins knows, Dudders. So you can cut the shit, now. Go away and snog your stupid girlfriend."

"She's not stupid and she's not my girlfriend, she's my best friend. Don't attack her just because you've been abused. She has nothing to do with this." Dudley took a breath. "My dad knows about this?"

"Yeah, dickhead. So do you, now. Congratulations. Can I continue taking out my poor ickle feelings on my arm, now? Let the door hit you on your way out."

"Harry!"

Harry started at the angry tone in Dudley's voice. "What?"

"Enough! I know you have every right to hate me, but after what I've done for you since you saved my life last summer, don't you think you could be a little appreciative?"

"Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't realize that sneaking me extra food and turning blame away from me every now and then made up for years of abuse, being your daddy's punching bag, being malnourished, being a slave, being chased down by you and your stupid friends, being told I'm worthless ever since I could understand what that meant - "

"I'm trying, okay?! Damnit Harry, I am sorry. I had no idea that what I was doing was so... detrimental. I had no idea how much my dad hit you. I had no idea how our words affected you. And I certainly didn't know that my parents were starving you."

"It doesn't take a genius to understand abuse and neglect."

"Well, I do now."

"Do you."

Dudley sighed. "My friend, the one you insist on calling my girlfriend - she cuts, too."

"Does she, now? So you suddenly think that you understand emotional pain?"

"She was raped, Harry!" This shut Harry up. "By her own uncle! She's been neglected for years by her father who became a drunk when her mother died. The only good thing he's done for her is beat the shit out of his brother for raping her. He's in... jail, now." Harry wondered why Dudley hesitated. "Meeting her was the best thing that has ever happened to me. It opened my eyes to how I and my family have treated you. I hate myself for what I've done, especially now that I know what you do to cope . I can't make it up to you. But at least I can try. I'll, uh, leave you alone now." With that, Dudley left Harry to process what just happened.

"Who the hell is his friend?" Harry shook his head in incredulity.

Severus woke up to the smell of something delicious. Lured to his kitchen after throwing on his button-down pajama shirt, he heard music. Muggle music.

You say that I changed

Well maybe I did

But even if I changed

What's wrong with it?

I'll never let you go

I'll never let you go

"I'll never let you go," came a female voice.

He stepped into the kitchen and a teenager with wavy black hair was singing and dancing around the kitchen. "I'm supposed to make you breakfast on your birthday, not the other way around."

She whirled around with a bright smile; he always loved that smile. "Hi, Daddy." She looked at the sizzling pan hovering over the counter and shrugged. "Eh, I felt like it." She turned off the stove and put the sausages on a plate.

"Have you thought about what you want?" Scrambling the eggs with her wand, she shrugged again. "Mavis," he prodded.

"I dunno."

"That means it's important to you. Alright, out with it. What is it?"

The eggs were done, so she emptied them onto two plates. She brought a plate over to her father and sat down with her own. "I was thinking... there's only one thing I want, but it's big. And it would be a big deal for you."

That meant it wasn't expensive, but meaningful. She never wanted expensive things, anyway. "You're fifteen, May. You're going to Hogwarts in September, you'll finally meet Potter, and you're my only child. What could possibly be so difficult to ask me?"

She finally met his eyes, and suddenly he was reminded strongly of Lily. She always reminded him of Lily. "I..." She took a deep breath. "I want to see your memories of Mum. All of them, not just the sweet moments you've already shown me. How you became friends, even though I've seen that one... how you fell in love, how you joined the death eaters, her reaction, how you won her back after calling her a mudblood, your affair after she married James while leaving out the obvious scenes I shouldn't see, and even her death... everything. It's okay if you still don't think I'm ready, I won't be offended, but... yeah. That's it."

She was right; that was hard. It was hard for her to ask because she knew how hard it would be for him. Remembering moments was one thing, but seeing them in a pensieve was like reliving them. But he nodded. It was her birthday after all, and she has been waiting patiently for years after he told her he would, one day, show her. "Of course. That's fair. You're old enough. But, I have warned you before and I will again; a lot of those memories will be very painful for you to watch."

"I know. I can take it. You don't have to experience them with me, Dad. I can do it alone."

He shook his head. "No. That I will not allow." She looked guilty. "Don't feel bad, this is your right. I am just surprised that this is what you want instead of something material."

"Information is more important to me than materials." He chuckled. "And don't you call me a Ravenclaw! Slytherins are intelligent, too!"

"You might not be sorted into Slytherin, love. You have to be ready to accept that."

"Of course I will."

"I know you are very Slytherin, but you are very Gryffindor as well. Just be prepared for that."

"I know, I know; the stupid prophecy. Yeah I'm pretty evenly half and half, but I'll be put in Slytherin. I know it."

"I know, but prophecies can change. Don't base your life off of one path predicted by a seer. You know yourself best, but know that I won't love you less if you are sorted into a different house."

"I know."

Half Gryffindor, chooses Slytherin... the key to her half brother's success in vanquishing darkness from this world... the prophecy repeated in Severus's head. He wondered if she would be a hatstall. He didn't tell her the entire prophecy, for which he felt guilty, but he did not want her to feel swayed in the slightest. But the fact that she was choosing Slytherin already when he fibbed and told her the prophecy said she was half of both instead of what she would choose... everything the prophecy said about her was coming true. If she kept on her path, it would. Those who strayed ended up breaking their prophecies. So far, Potter was doing well, but in order to complete his, he needed his half sister in his life and it was finally time. Severus was not ready.

"After breakfast, then?" he asked his daughter. "Since Draco and Lucius are coming over for lunch."

She nodded and smiled. "Thank you, Dad. So much."

Twenty minutes later, he brought her upstairs to his study and pulled out the pensieve and a vial of memories. They sat on the sofa, he took a deep breath, and poured the memories into the flat, liquid surface.

"Are you okay?" she asked.

"I am."

"Will you be after this?"

"Honestly Mavis, probably not. But I need to do this, for you and for myself. You need to know more about your mother and I. No matter how upset it may make me, it is necessary. Besides, what example would I be to you if I couldn't relive my worst memories?"

She took his hand and squeezed it. "This means a lot to me. I'm sorry that it will be upsetting to you."

"I know. And I couldn't let you do it alone; that part is my choice. Let's go."