Disclaimer – I don't own Harry Potter, and I'm not making any money off this.

A/N - Thanks to everyone who reviewed the last chapter! I'm very grateful for all the comments I've received on this story. Everyone who offered up suggestions on the plot, I will most likely be incorporating your ideas into the story. If you were wondering why Hermione Granger wasn't in the last chapter, it's because she wasn't known to be a witch at that age. Only people who had known magical relatives were included into the party, simply because they were the only magical children the Hogwarts Staff knew at his age. Okay, onto the story.

Chapter Eight


Harry Potter was extremely grateful to Remus and Dumbledore for taking him to Hogwarts Castle. Without them, he would still be back at the Dursleys, washing dishes and being a sort of manservant to his less than desirable family. If you could even call those people his family. He supposed he should be glad the Dursleys hadn't enjoyed his company; after all, why in the world would he have wanted to be liked by those horrible people anyways? He wanted to stay far away from them, horrible as they were. Why should he feel less than ecstatic that he wasn't their ideal nephew?

He wondered why it still hurt.

Of course, Remus and Dumbledore (who was now insisting he call him Albus) assured Harry that the Dursleys were mistaken in their opinion of him; that Harry was a wonderful, talented, and sweet little boy who deserved much more than the Dursleys had ever given him. And he started to believe them, with time. Over the short time Harry had been living with him, Remus had shown him what it was like to truly have someone who cared for you. And Harry cared for Remus, too.

So he awoke the morning after his birthday not depressed over the previous day as he usually was on this day, but elated. He had had an amazing birthday, meeting new friends, getting actual presents, and feeling as if he mattered. It was wonderful to have that feeling. Remus came to greet him in the main room, and they set out for the Great Hall for breakfast. Harry took a chance and sat by Professor Snape, remembering his determination to form a sort of friendship with the man. He winced when all he received was a dark scowl.

"All right, Harry?" Professor Sprout said from across the table.

"Oh yes, and you, Professor?"

"Perfectly fine, young dear. I recommend you try the sausage, it's exceptional today you know."

Harry pulled a couple of pieces onto his plate, along with some biscuits, a couple pieces of toast, and some thick strips of bacon. Usually Professor Sprout didn't speak at meals, at least not to him. How odd.

He turned his attention back to the Professor. "So…you teach potions? I bet that's a challenge."

The man gave him an odd, annoyed glance, and unwillingly replied, "Not for a Potions Master, Mister Potter, unless you believe my abilities to be less than perfect."

Harry grimaced. "Oh no, sir, I just meant to say it wouldn't be easy to teach a group of kids how to do something so complicated. You must have it mastered if you can teach it."

Snape blinked in surprise. Evidently, that hadn't been what he was expecting. "Yes, well. We will see if my teacher abilities can possibly help you, Potter, when you make your appearance in my class some day."

"So you'll be my teacher, then?"

"Yes, Potter, I will be your Potions teacher until your fifth year. I doubt you will scrape up the grade needed to make it to my NEWT level class."

Harry bit his lip. "I'll certainly try, sir. Potions sound fascinating, I can't wait to give it a go myself." This was, of course, a complete lie; nothing sounded as dreadfully boring as sitting in the dungeons making odd juices all day long. But if it made Snape any more gracious, it would do.

"Alright, then, Mr. Potter. Eat your breakfast and let me eat mine in peace."

Harry did so, without another word to Snape. Remus was looking at him a little strangely, as were the rest of the table, except Dumbledore; the old Headmaster was turning his eyes on full twinkle, Harry thought with a snort. Snape glanced at him with a sneer, and turned back to his plate.

"So, young Harry. When would you like to start your first flying lesson? Madam Hooch has turned up most conveniently, and she will help us assist you."

Harry glanced for the first time at the strange woman sitting next to Dumbledore. She had short, gray hair, and eyes like a hawk. But her smile was kind and he trusted her.

"Ooh…if it's not too much trouble, could we go now? Please, sir?"

Dumbledore looked at Remus, who nodded. "Yes, I believe Remus, Madam Hooch and myself are all sufficiently well fed for a couple of hours. Do you have your broom, Harry?"

Harry groaned. "No sir, it's all the way up in-"

Suddenly, the broom was zooming towards Dumbledore. His eyes widened. Sometimes magic still caught him by surprise. The four of them stood up and made their way out the front doors of the castle, onto the quidditch pitch.


Harry was bubbling with excitement, and not a little bit of nervousness. He was actually going to fly! He couldn't believe it. They reached the center of the quidditch pitch and stopped.

Now, Harry. I want you to set your broom down next to you, on your left side, preferably."

Harry did so, a little confused. How was he going to fly with his broom on the ground? It seemed silly to him.

"Now. Raise your hand over your broom, ready to catch it."

Harry did so with mounting excitement.

"Will the broom to zoom up into your hand, and call 'UP!'"

Harry willed the broom to float up toward his hand, and, following her instruction, shouted 'UP!' as loud as he could muster. He wilted a little at the sight of his broom just rolling on the ground.

"It's quite all right Harry, I didn't expect you to even get that far on the first try. Now try again."

Harry felt more determined this time to get it right, and tried again, calling out 'UP!' and expecting the broom to zoom up into his hand. He squealed with joy when the broom actually did it!

Madam Hooch raised her eyebrows. "Well done, Harry, that was quite good. Now, mount your broom, and put your hands just below the handle, gripping it with your right hand on top of your left."

He did so, excited.

"Alright. Now kick off the ground, GENTLY. I don't want you flying more than a foot off the ground, understand?"

Harry nodded profusely.

"Now GO!"

Harry kicked off with a tiny bit of force, and as soon as he got up in the air, he felt…peaceful, like he belonged in the air. Even if it was only about a foot away from the ground, Harry felt like he was millions of miles upward. Soon, though, he got impatient with just hovering.

"Can I try to fly now, Madam Hooch?"

She smiled lightly and nodded. "But don't try anything too daring, Mister Potter. No need to show off here."

He nodded and flew higher, trying to get the feel of moving with his broom. It didn't take long; he felt absolutely natural up here, on this broom, like he had been meant to do this all along. He pushed the broom faster, and let out a 'WHOOP!' of joy. He could see the worried, yet excited smiles on each of their faces, and, ignoring Madam Hooch's orders, suddenly went into a loop-de-loop type of move. He felt so free! This was wonderful, this was exciting, this was-

And Harry was suddenly stopped in midair, Remus pointing his wand sternly at him. "What did Madam Hooch tell you, Harry? Nothing too fancy, now, I don't want you getting hurt up there."

Harry frowned, but consented. Remus let go his hold on the boy and Harry flew towards the goal posts slowly.

Remus had explained quidditch to Harry late last night, showing Harry a diagram in mid-air with his wand and telling Harry what happened in the game. He explained the purpose of a keeper, a beater, a chaser, and a seeker. Harry thought being a seeker sounded amazing; the whole game mostly depended on the seeker for the win, and seekers were supposed to be small, slender, and quick. Just like Harry. He was looking forward to seeing school matches in the future, when school term started September First.

Remus, Albus, and Madam Hooch took a seat in the Ravenclaw stands, closest to where Harry was currently flying. Harry was definitely gifted on a broom, just like his father had been. It felt almost wrong to be the one helping Harry ride a broom, instead of his own father. He could only do his best to make sure Harry grew up knowing who his parents had been while they had been alive.

He watched Harry do another one of those nerve-wracking loop-de-loop moves, but let the boy slide this time. He deserved to have his bit of fun, especially with how peaceful he looked. It almost broke his heart to have to make the boy come down.

"Harry, we have to go back to the castle now. It's getting near dinner time."

Harry's eyes widened. He'd been out here for four hours? Come to think of it, he was getting quite hungry…


After dinner (at which Snape was not in attendance), Remus and Harry sat by the fire in the main room, like they often did at the end of the day. The two talked and joked and bonded during this time, left alone by the other inhabitants of the castle. Harry decided to confide in Remus about his situation with Snape.

"Remus," Harry began, slowly. "You know how Professor Snape doesn't like me, right?"

Remus frowned. "Harry, I wouldn't say he-"

"Well I would. So do you have any ideas as to how I can get him to be at least cordial to me?"

Remus narrowed his eyes. "Why, Harry? Has he been insulting you? If he has-"

"No, Moony, he hasn't been insulting me. I just don't want anyone here to dislike me, you know? I want everyone here to like me, I want everyone in my new home to think highly of me."

Remus sighed. "I suppose you could want a lot worse things, Harry. But I'm afraid Severus Snape is a tough man to make friends with. I suggest not pushing the man if you want his companionship, and maybe some day you'll get it."

Harry nodded. "Thanks, Remus."


Severus Snape sat in his personal quarters, pondering the behavior of one Harry James Potter. The boy was positively infuriating, trying to force a conversation out of him every meal, but he was forbidden by the headmaster to speak to the boy in any way that was less than kind. He obeyed, and was confused as to why the order wasn't too hard for him. He couldn't possibly be developing a soft spot for the boy; could he? No, no. That simply would not do. He was, after all, Severus Tobias Snape, a man made of solid spite and cold, fine-tuned hatred. It would simply ruin him to be seen as having a sort of affection for the young boy, even if he was the child of Lily Evans.

He was also the son of James Potter.

He scolded himself for his backward thinking. What did it matter whose blood he had running through his vains? Wasn't that what he had been saying about himself for years? He supposed he couldn't very well treat the boy with disdain without seeing himself as the biggest hypocrite ever to walk the halls of Hogwarts, after all, with his less-than-pure blood lineage. He sneered. How quaint.

Severus had been quick to judge Harry Potter to be a spoiled, inconsiderate, unintelligent brat of a boy, until the seven year old child had tried his best to strike up a polite and meaningless conversation at a meal. He hadn't seen James Potter in one ounce of the boy, no matter how hard he tried. This boy was as earnest and heartfelt as Lily had been. In fact, the only part of James he could sense in the boy was his outward appearance, which was almost a mirror image.

He scowled.

Maybe the boy wasn't so bad, he admitted to himself. But he certainly did NOT have any sort of attatchment to him. No, he was simply a tolerable child. That was all. A tolerable little boy with the eyes of his dead former friend.

Not many knew, but Lily Evans had, in fact, been close to Severus Snape before the two had come to Hogwarts. He had lived nearby her, and seen her perform magic accidentally, saw her sister get jealous of her abilities while she herself had none to speak of. He saw the worry and confusion inside her parents when they took notice, and he saw the fear in Lily herself once she discovered the abnormality of what she could do.

He had felt extremely sorry for the little girl with no one to turn to about her abilities. One day, when Lily had been playing a game of 'hide and seek' with her older sister, Severus sought her out and told her he shared the same abilities she did, and what it meant to them. They had taken to each other instantly, Lily finally having someone who could help her with her confusion, and Severus finally having someone who wouldn't judge him for his less than perfect family.

It was a wholesome friendship, that lasted for quite a while.

Until Severus called her that foul, disgusting word. And then, nothing was the same.

Mudblood.

How he regretted it, even now, saying such a loathsome thing to his best friend. She had meant everything to him, and he had discarded her carelessly that day, with the use of one word. All to impress the members of his filthy house. He had gone to her afterwards, apologized like he had never apologized in his life. But Lily would not accept his apology, would not have anything to do with him after that.

And that had, most likely, killed him.

Maybe he would redeem himself through this boy, maybe he could make it up to Lily by treating her son as he should have treated her. It would not be easy, but he would try. He would try for Lily, and he would try for himself.

And Harry would become the savior of his soul.


A/N – I hope everyone reviews this chapter that reads it, I really do. Reviews mean a lot to someone when they're writing a story, and they're also the only form of compensation I get for this. Even if you just give me two words, I'll appreciate it. Thanks!