So... I'm still not JK Rowlling. I do not own Harry Potter and... unfortunately I still do not own the lovely, the talented Alan Sydney Patrick Rickman. Jo still owns Harry Potter. As for Alan... well, he's property of one Rima Horton. Two of the luckiest women in the world if you ask me.

But who's complaining? After all, I still own the plot, the Founder's Stones, and my OC which will be making her grand entrance in about roughly two chapters, not counting this one.

So now with all the official updates said...

Chapter 4:

Before the Journey

Severus did not sleep well that night. All though the night, he was plagued by strange dreams that kept his mind from relaxing as it should have. He knew that he had one person and one person to thank fro his lack of rest: Sybil Trewlaney. All of the things he saw that night were all the possible ways that her prophecy of finding something other than the stone on his journey could come to pass. None of them were at all possible or likely, but the insisted on playing out in his mind none the less.

In one of the dreams, he was in New York. The city and buildings were all around him. He was walking down the sidewalk of a street he didn't know. Without him even thinking about it, his feet were moving forward. His eyes moved constantly from one point of focus to another, looking for any sign that the stone was close. For what seemed like hours in his head, he continued his search fruitlessly. As quick as a flash of his eye, he suddenly caught a glimpse of green... but it was not the green he sought. It was a jolt of from the end of a wand. The shot hit Severus squarely in the chest. His feet stopped and lost their balance. As he feel backwards, he sought the source of the spell that had killed him. A second before everything stopped and lost their balance. Seconds before everything went black, he could see a black cloaked figure standing over top of him. Covering its face was the mask of a deatheater. Yet, in the fleeting moment he got to look at the figure that had ended his life, he noticed something about unusual about it. The only witch or wizard he could see was their eyes. Severus' heart beat one last heavy thump when he saw they were a bright, emerald green. The same color... the same shape of...

Severus woke up from the dream gasping for air like it was some sort of precious commodity. His entire body was covered in a cold sweat. It was the single wost nightmare he had ever had, which was quite a feat considering how accustom he was to unpleasant dreams he was. No amount of calming drought or dreamless sleep potion was ever enough to entirely rid his mind of all the horrors he had seen. But it was just as well. He needed to be reminded always of his resolve, why he wasn't like Arthur Weasley or even Remus Lupin or any other member of the Order. They all had their burdens, no one could deny that fact, but none that could match the weight which Severus always carried. While they could all relish in small, happy moments with their wives, children, and friends Severus lived with the thought he could never be happy. He had singlehandedly murdered his own happiness years ago.

The Defense Against the Dark Art Professor pulled himself out his spiral of thought before he again allowed himself to think of 'her.' He maneuvered himself out of the mess of blankets that had become his bed. Then he gently flattened them until the bed could loosely be called made. The hour was early to wake up, even for him, but he could not stand lying in bed any longer and he certainly could not bare another nightmare like the one he had just woke up from. It was best he got moving early. He would soon have to begin his search for Salazar Slytherin's stone.

By the time Severus placed the parchment with the image of the stone into the pocket of the robes he had changed into, he cold hear the rest of the school waking up. The sound of students getting ready to start a new day filled the castle school as they moved in swarms to the great hall for breakfast. From his new office, Severus could smell the food appearing on the tables, but most mornings it was not enough to lead him to the high table. He never cared much for breakfast food and a cup of warm tea was usually enough to substian him until lunch where the food was more appetizing to him.

The small of sausage, bacon, and freshly squeezed pumpkin juice bombarded Severus' nose as he stepped out of his office and he quickly ventured to the ascending staircase. He was half-way up his second flight of stairs when his black eyes caught a glimpse of a familiar pair of green ones. About to pass him going the opposite direction (coming no doubt from Gryffindor Tower) was Harry Potter, the chosen one, and his loyal companion Wesaley. Severus could feel the hatred he could not control seep slowly into his body. The bloody boy looked so much like his father... He was instantly transported in his mind back to his boyhood when he would walk up the staircase only to be hexed or harassed by James Potter.

"Up a bit early this morning, are we Potter?" The slur came out of Severus' mouth before he could contemplate it. It was as natural and automatic to him as a reflex.

"Not really," the boy returned to his Professor before unwillingly adding "Sir" in he moat hateful voice he thought he could get away with.

"Practicing for Potions with Professor Slughorn, no doubt."

"No. I was going to eat before Potions actually," Harry said, inwardly cringing at the thought of Snape knowing about his sudden improvement in Potions class.

"Very well, Potter," Severus granted skeptically. "But be aware that your new found talent in Potions, while some may dismiss it as previously undiscovered talent, other may begin to... question your methods."

With that, Severus cast the boy another hateful glance, stopping short of meeting his green eyes before taking off in his previous direction. The internal battle followed him up the stairs. Part of him scolded himself. No matter who he favored or how many careless mistakes he made, he was still 'her' son... the only part of her there was left. Yet, the other part of him could not help but be satisfied with himself. He looked and sounded entirely too much like James for him not to get a least a small feeling of revenge every time he sneered at or punished him, everything he had longed to do him while they were in school but had been too weak and outnumbered to do then.

Harry watched his Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor walk up the stairs , his cloak billowing two steps behind him. In his mind, he was fuming the way it always did around Snape. What was it about the two that always seemed to bring out the worst in each other? Harry had no idea. All he knew was that if there was one person in the world that deserved his worst, it was Snape. The two of them had mad their mutual hatred known to each other long ago.

"Someone got his cape in a knot already this morning," Ron said his best mate, who looked like he needed to pulled out of thoughts of imagining Snape being ripped apart by a mob of angry centaurs, as nice as the thought may have seemed to him as well.

"No, it's just Snape," Harry commented, "His cape's in a permanent knot."

"Do you think he knows, Harry?" The Weasley boy asked, suddenly remembering Snape's last comment. "About the Potions book."

"I don't think so. If he did, he would have already gone to Dumbldore and tried to get me expelled, like he always does."

"I suppose you're right... but now he knows he knows something's not right... with you in Potions that is."

"What do you think I should do? Give up the book because Snape's up to his usual sticking his big nose in my business?"

"I dunno," The Weasley boy responded. "Maybe Hermonie was right about turning it in. If Snape does find out..."

"He's not gonna find out," Harry interrupted quickly. He refused to give his Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor that much credit. He would never find out what he was doing, no matter how deep he dug his big nose.

"I suppose not," Ron amended, not taking the snap in his best mate's voice personally. He knew better than anyone how angry his friend could get when a certain greasy haired teacher of theirs was concerned. "Unless..."

"Unless what?" Harry asked, his tone more subdued this time.

"Never mind," the red headed boy said, already thinking better of what he had planned to say.

"Come on, Ron, let's hear it," the messy haired boy coaxed. "What were you going to say?"

The Wealesy boy sighed "Unless Snape is the Half-Blood Prince..."

The two Gryffindor boys looked at each other silently for a moment. Both of them seemed to be deep in thought, looking for some reason... any reason to discredit what Ron had just suggested. The two contemplated for several more minutes before Harry finally found what the two were seeking, a way to laugh off the idea of his Potions book belonging to Snape.

"I don't think it's Snape, Ron," Harry commented "It's the Half-Blood Prince, remember? I suspect Snape's blood is just as pure as Malfoy's"

"I suppose it'd have to be... for him to be head of Slytherin House."

"Yea, not to mention Voldemort wouldn't want anything less to be one of his deatheaters," The dark headed boy added, the taste of his own hatred returning to his mouth as he spoke.

"Yea..." was the only response Ron could give for a long pause. He gave his best mate a little time to calm down before changing the subject. "Well, come on, mate or we'll miss breakfast. Hermonie probably thinks we got lost."

The Weasley boy took off down the stairs,a slightly quicker pace than before. Harry followed behind him a few steps after. Try as he might, he could not forget their previous words. He felt the uncomfortable urge to slide his hand down into his schoolbag and feel around for the thin, worn cover of the spine of the Half-Blood Prince's copy of Advanced Potion Making. To his relief, it was still there (not that he had really expected it to have disappeared.) Most importantly, it was still his secret. No one was going to find out about it. It was his ticket into Professor Slughorn's good graces and that, according to Dumbledore, was right where he needed to be.

Meanwhile, the Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor once again made his way to the Headmaster's office. He watched form the staircase as the old man offered something to Fawkes out of his hand, which the phoenix too graciously. He gave the magnificent red bird a gentle stroke of his head feahers with his working hand before he noticed he was no longer alone. He then turned his attention to his dark haired employee and greeted him.

"Good morning, Severus," Dumbledore said brightly as the younger man stepped into his office. "Fawkes and I were just having a bit of breakfast."

"Really?" Severus countered, a bit of his cross mood due to his exchange with Harry Potter on the staircase still present in his voice. " I see the bird is eating... but I see nothing in here for you, nothing except piles of sweets and candy."

"I had planned on going to the great hall in a few moments," the headmaster said, still cheerful. "Before I had the pleasure I had the pleasure of your company."

"Very well," granted the Defense Against the Dark Professor. "But note, while I am away, that the treatment you are talking can only do so much if the patient dose not first take care of himself."

" I am aware of what I must do to take care of myself, Severus." The older man said.

Though Severus had legitimate doubts about Dumbledore's ability to do anything that did not directly benefit someone else directly, he decided not to push the matter. Time was of the essence at the moment and he knew this was a battle he would not win. He turned his back to the Headmaster with his cloak lifting off the ground as he turned. He planned to say nothing else and took a step back toward the staircase when Dumbledore stopped him.

"Severus?" The old man said, looking at his employee.

"Yes?" Severus retorted, turning back to face his employer.

"Are you leaving now? To where Sybil instructed you to go?" The blue-eyed man asked.

Severus sighed. He knew then that he had already spoken to Trelaney. His eyes rolled at his employer's need to know eveything.

"Yes," the Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor answered flatly. "Unless, of course, there is something else you'd like me to do."

"Oh no, I don't need you to anything else," Dumbledore responded. "But you are going into the muggle world, Severus, and it might be helpful for you to... blend in."

"What do you suggest?" The younger man asked shortly, his temper beginning to flare.

"Perhaps... you could transfigure your attire a bit" the Headmaster suggested gently.

Severus sighed. The more he thought about it, the more he did suppose the older man had a point. Muggle attire would be more appropriate, but the thought of it made him cringe. He was quite fond his robes, they were an extension of himself. He quietly wondered if Dumbledore had ever worn muggle attire in his life, if he knew how utterly annoying and confining it was. Moments passed before the black eyed man at last compiled with the blue eyed man's suggestion. He drew his wand a muttered a few spells quickly spitting them and within moments the almost painful work was done.

Dumbledore noticed little change in the his employee's appearance, but knew it would make all the difference in the muggle world. There was no long cloak flowing behind him. Instead, there was black dress pants, a black button-down shirt which the collar matched the one on his usual, and the last visible change was what replaced the cloak. It was a black trench coat that hugged much closer to the body. The Headmaster inwardly laughed before casting and approving look with his blue eyes.

Severus tried not to think about what he had just done. He also tried not to think about how ridiculous he looked. The look the headmaster had given was all the indication he needed. Once again, without as much of a good-bye, he turned on his heels and moved toward the staircase. The time, he left with no interruption or input from the old man,