Disclaimer: Mr HJP and none of his dear friends belong to me :)

Summary: Years after the death of Voldemort and Harry's life is as normal as it will ever be. But a mysterious letter from a man calling himself Severus Snape threatens to tear apart all he thought he knew. Is this a cruel trick or is the Half Blood Prince somehow still alive?

A/N: I know, I know. I need to finish up the three stories that I already started.

Not for the first time that week, a tall, blonde man marched into the Auror's department at the Ministry of Magic without warning, wand drawn and smiling maliciously. He walked past the timid secretary and into the Head Auror's corner office, rushing inside without announcing himself.

He blasted the door open and strode inside.

"I've got you cornered now, haven't I?" the man declared from the middle of the floor, his wand held aloft. "There's nothing you can do."

From his desk, Harry Potter looked up from a large stack of parchment and rolled is eyes.

"Not now, Malfoy. There's a man anonymously jinxing Muggles in Surrey, five cases so far and we've yet to catch him."

"Potter, I hardly think that Mundungus Fletcher robbing Muggles using the Body Bind curse is a matter of national security. Come on then, let's get some lunch!"

Draco Malfoy threw himself into a nearby leather armchair and lifted his feet onto a small glass coffee table. He stretched luxuriously, his black work robes pooling around him to reveal his white button down and grey trousers.

"Malfoy, it's barely noon. Don't you have work to do or something?"

"I do not, Potter," he grinned. "I left old Bode on duty, he should be fine."

"Great. Brilliant. Good to know the Department of Mysteries takes its employees so seriously."

"Now that's not fair, Potter. I was at work all night!"

"Doing what, exactly?"

"Now, I hardly think I'd be much of an Unspeakable if I told you."

Harry put down his quill with a sigh, realizing that Malfoy had no intentions of letting up anytime soon. "Early lunch, then? I suppose I can finish this later in the afternoon."

"Wonderful. Let's go into London today, there's this pretty new waitress at the Leaky Cauldron who keeps winking at me and I'd like to show her my –"

"Malfoy! I don't want to know!" Harry said quickly.

"Fine, fine. You know, just because you've been going out with dear Ginevra for so long doesn't mean that I can't have a little fun with my life."

"You can have as much fun as you want. Just try not to be so detailed about it, would you? I'm still recovering from your story about that Mediwitch from Toronto."

"Oh, she was wonderful," Draco smirked. "Just lovely and so flexible. Really knew her anatomy, if you know what I mean."

"Malfoy, I repeat, stop or I will –"

But Harry's reply was cut off as his door once again slammed open.

"Malfoy, why are you never in your office?" Hermione Granger asked, stepping in and closing the translucent door behind her. She carried a large stack of parchment under her arm, all pressed with the official Ministry seal.

"Pleasure as always, Granger. Sneaking away for your midmorning meeting with Weasley already? Or will Potter be joining you on this one?"

"You're revolting, Malfoy," she replied, but smiled slightly at the repulsed look on Harry's face.

"Honestly, Hermione, you know all the offices in this department have glass doors, right?"

"Shut up, Harry. I was delivering papers to Kingsley."

"Ah. Anything I should know, then?"

Hermione frowned. "There's a letter for you, actually. Usually, we'd forward it along directly to you but this one was a slight issue..." She trailed off.

Harry, who had been putting on his black peacoat, looked at her curiously. Malfoy also stared, suddenly serious and silent. "What sort of security issue? Was it jinxed? Who's it from?"

"No, it's not jinxed," she said slowly. "And believe me, we checked. No, we're worried about who may have sent it."

"Who sent it?"

Hermione bit her lip. "Harry, I think you should sit down."

Harry gestured to the armchair and pulled out a chair for himself across from her, suddenly feeling rather nervous. They sat, Malfoy leaning against the door.

Hermione lowered her papers onto the floor, laying out a large cream-colored envelope on the coffee table. It had been opened and Harry could see what appeared to be a good deal of Muggle looseleaf stuffed inside.

He picked up the envelope and turned it over. Written on the front, in shaky script was "To Harry Potter, From Severus Snape". Snape?

Suddenly, Harry felt very cold. "Hermione, what...who did this?"

"We know, Harry," she said quickly. "We thought it was just a sick joke. But then..."

"What? You think it's real?" Harry could feel his voice getting louder.

"Read it, Harry. Just read the letter. Please. And if you don't want anything to do with it, it'll never be mentioned again."

With shaking hands, Harry pulled out the paper inside. He unfolded the thin looseleaf, squinting to understand the messy writing. Draco quietly slid forward, attempting to read over Harry's shoulder.

Dear Harry Potter,

My name is Severus Snape (I think) and I am writing to you with a most unusual request.

I have reached out to you because I do not know to whom else I can turn. You see, Mr Potter, I am a man without his memories. To make a long story short, I will tell you that the earliest memory I have extends to January earlier this year, when I woke up in a hospital in Cokeworth, without the faintest idea of who I am. My doctors tell me that I was found in an alleyway, nearly dead and covered in injuries. Since then, I have made excellent progress in regaining my physical health and have found a home and work. The problem is, I still have no memories to speak of. I cannot remember what my real name may be or who I was before I woke up in that hospital.

You may be wondering what any of this has to do with you. The truth is, I am not sure if there is anything or if this letter will reach you at all. But here is why I have contacted you: When I was found, I only had two objects with me. One was a wallet with the name "Severus Snape" printed on it. Not much to go on, I know, but I have since then assumed that is my name. The only thing in it was a torn piece of paper and the only thing written on it "lots of love, Lily".

I do not know anyone named Lily. While I was in recovery, no one came forward with information about who I may be. This leads me to you, Mr Potter. The only other piece of information I have about who I am is a small picture that was found with the letter. It is a photograph of a small child holding a small broomstick, with a woman, her face hidden by her hair. On the back of the photograph it says "Harry Potter, Age One. 1981". Given the age of the photograph, I surmise you to be about twenty five years old at this time.

This probably sounds insane. I am writing to you without any idea of who you are or even the knowledge that you are the same person that I am looking for. However, I do not have any other leads at this moment.

If you think you can help me or have any idea who I am, please do not hesitate to contact me. I have enclosed my address and telephone number. I hope to hear from you.

Severus Snape

Gaping, Harry looked up at a nervous-looking Hermione. His heart was beating very quickly.

"Hermione, what – I mean, how...that's impossible, isn't it?"

"We don't know, Harry," she said, wringing her hands. "But it's strange, isn't it?" She hesitated. "'Harry...Harry, I hate to ask, but do you...do you possibly know what letter or photograph he could be talking about?"

"That's the thing, Hermione. I think I do..."

"You're shitting me," Draco said loudly. Harry jumped – he'd forgotten he was still in the room.

"I – uh, no I'm not." Harry turned his gaze to Hermione. "Think back to Grimmauld Place. I found the other half of the letter in Sirius's bedroom. My Mum wrote it to him. And I saw half the photo too. But it was just my Dad, the other half was torn away."

"But it's impossible!" Hermione burst out. "This must be a cruel trick or an ambush, someone must have found the wallet or..."

"I didn't say I believe it," Harry said quickly, cutting her off. "I don't. It's just...Hermione, we need to check this out. Whoever this is, they somehow got his wallet and my Mum's letter."

"No," she said sharply. "Let's not jump into this, Harry. Please, we have to think this through."

"We could send someone from the Ministry to find out," Draco ventured.

Harry hesitated. "No, I think I want to go," he said slowly. "Whoever this is, they have my mother's letter. I want it back."

"But it could be trap!" Hermione cut in anxiously. "For the love of Merlin, there's still errant Death Eaters out there! Let the Ministry send someone, please!"

"And whoever it is, we need to deal with it!" He shot back, getting angry. "I am the Ministry now, Hermione. I'm the Head Auror! I'm who they send!"

Hermione narrowed her eyes at him. "Right," she said quietly. "Right. And this has nothing to do with what happened in London last month?"

Harry turned away, defeated. She referred to a brutal, unexpected attack on Muggles that had taken place a few weeks earlier, right in the middle of a busy day. Several dark wizards, still on the run, ransacked a Muggle shopping mall and left nearly fifty shoppers dead. While the non-magic media blamed it on a gas explosion, the wizarding world was in an uproar. The attack was undoubtedly the work of wizards – there was an unexplained surge of magic in the area as they occurred, leaving all electronics virtually useless.

By the time the Ministry received the warnings that there were high levels of magic being performed in a Muggle area and dispatched security, much of the damage was already done. Harry, to no one's surprise, took it hard.

Most disturbing of all, no one was quite sure who was behind the rampage. Though it was written as an isolated incident in the media, the Head Auror had some very different ideas.

"That's not the point," Harry said.

Hermione stood, crossing her arms. "Fine," she ground out. "But I'm going too."

"And me," Draco said loudly.

"No, no. I'm going alone!" Harry said, annoyed.

"Really?" Hermione scoffed. "We don't even know who this person is and you want to march in, unprepared?"

"He didn't ask for the whole Ministry to show up at his door, Hermione. He just wants to see me. I can handle myself." He added stubbornly.

"It's not procedure –"

"Look, we'll just alarm him! I'm a trained Auror, Hermione! I'll call for backup, if need be!"

"Look," Hermione responded in a strained voice. "Could you please just calm yourself for one moment and we can –"

"Blimey,it's been a long day. You want to go for lunch, Harry?" A loud, cheerful voice cut off Hermione mid-sentence. Ron strode into the room and looked around, his smile fading as he noticed the tense, angry look on Harry's face.

"What the hell happened?"

Harry sighed. It looked as though there'd be no time for lunch, after all.