AN: Wow, I am completely HORRIBLE at updating regularly :( I have to apologize a million times for the lateness of this chapter. As I mentioned in the update, I really didn't want to create a slap-dash chapter that wasn't really good, because I haven't had any time in the world to write. Hopefully this chapter makes up for it :) I am going to TRY to keep up with the "chapter ever two weeks" incentive I mentioned in the last chapter, but then again, I might be delayed a little bit. But I give you my work that I shall try my best to update more regularly! I'm not done with this story yet, not in the least ;) I hope you enjoy this chapter, feel free to review, I love your thoughts! :)

P.S: Don't mind if you find a couple grammatical errors here and there, I might have made a couple spelling mistakes. xD

Chapter 10: Late Beginnings

He was running. He had heard what had happened, but yet couldn't believe it. Maybe he could make it, just in time...maybe he could stop it, but how? He continued to run, gasping, yet he knew he couldn't stop, if it meant saving them...saving her.

He reached the house. He knew he had already been here. The place was in ruins. Windows broken, furniture astray, door blasted open. He could see a dim light coming through the door. He didn't think twice. He ran into the house, trying to maneuver around the chaos that had been caused. He continued to walk, listening for a sound. He heard a faint whimper: the sound of a baby's cry, in the next room. He quickened his pace, almost tripping over a toy broom that was lying on the floor.

When he reached the room where he had heard the baby's cry, he was shocked. He found himself in a child's room, complete with a crib. In the crib lay a crying child, tears pouring over his face, obviously in distress. He faintly noticed a zig-zagged mark across the boy's forehead. His eyes dropped down towards the floor, and he almost fell over in shock. There he saw a lady with buoyant, bright red hair, strewn across the floor...not moving.

He fell on his knees, and put his hands on the her shoulders , shaking her gently. When she wouldn't respond, he picked her up off the floor, held her in his arms, and shook her with more intensity.
"Lily..." He whispered in a soft voice. She did not respond, her eyes gently closed, as if in a deep slumber. His heart started to grow empty.

"Lily! LILY!" He shouted in pain, begging her to wake up, to open those deep, green eyes, to stop fooling around with him.

But yet...she did not answer. Her eyes continued to remain closed. He pulled her fragile, lifeless body into his arms, tears starting to fall down his own face. He couldn't accept it, she couldn't be gone.
He could not hold back the tears any longer. He held her in his arms as he cried, as his heart slowly shattered, knowing that he would never see those beautiful, piercing green eyes again.

Snape woke up with a start. His face was flushed, and the remnants of unnoticed tears were drying on his face. He got up from his bed, and walked over to the washroom, taking the time to wash off his face and to take a drink of water. He was slightly shaking from the intense dream, but he tried not to think about it as his heart rate calmed down.

He walked out of his room, bare-footed, meaning to walk over to the sitting room in order to have a half hour of good reading to calm his mind down. On the way, he stopped in front of Harry's door. He paused. Out of some un-ordinary instinct, he turned the handle of Harry's door and opened it slightly, just enough so that he could see Harry lying in his bed, not tossing and turning this night, seeming to be in a peaceful slumber. Snape just stood there for a minute, watching him, watching him sleep silently. Hedwig was sitting in her cage in just the corner of the room, pecking at the side of one of the bars. Snape quietly tip-toed into Harry's room, towards Hedwig. Hedwig didn't respond to Snape's advance, not until she saw Snape unlatching her cage door open and slowly opening it. Snape took Hedwig from the cage, set her on his hand, and walked over to the window, opening it. It was quite a chilly night for July. He stuck his hand out the window, with Hedwig perched on it. Hedwig paused for a second to give a slight nip at Snape's hand, then flew off into the night. Snape knew she would return by morning.

He quietly tip-toed back to the door, closing the window behind him. He took one last look at Harry, before he closed the door behind him and continued walking down the hallway towards the kitchen.

He was wrong, about never seeing those precious, green eyes again. They still existed, and even through the closed lids of a sleeping boy, he knew they were there.

Harry knew that he would have to pay for what he had done last night.

He couldn't have been more correct.

As soon as he woke up to the sound of an irritating alarm, that he had not set himself, he saw a note beside his night table.

You are to clean and wash the kitchen and all the bathrooms, and you

will dust all the bedrooms until they are dirt-free.

I will be back in a couple of hours, and I expect this to be

completed when I get back. Don't get any funny ideas about going

anywhere.

-Professor Snape

Harry groaned as he sat up in his bed, anticipating the work that he would have to do today. Although, if he was being honest with himself, he had expected a lot worst. He shivered as he climbed out of his bed, finding himself feeling quite chilly. He hoped he wasn't getting a cold from last night. That was the last thing he needed.

He was groggy as he went downstairs, got himself a bowl of cereal and some milk, and sat down to eat. He hadn't gotten a very good night of rest last night. He kept having dreams the Hall of Prophecy, of flashes and loud noises, of a silvery curtain...he shook his head, trying not to reminisce in his dreams.

As soon as he finished his breakfast, he got to work on his "punishment". He found a mop, a broom, a sponge, and some cleaning solutions, and started in on the kitchen. He whistled random tunes as he worked, songs he used to hear his Aunt Petunia whenever she worked on cleaning the house (whenever she hadn't forced Harry to do it). It was weird for him to remember his aunt and uncle again, even for one second. It had only been about less than a week, but it felt like so much longer. He hated to admit it, but living with Snape for the past week had been...quite tolerable actually, compared to Dursleys. Harry was surprised at even himself at this acknowledgment.

By the time he had finished dusting off the last room, Harry was exhausted. His eyes were closing on him as he put away all the cleaning supplies back into a cabinet.

When Snape returned three hours later, with a bunch of groceries and supplies from the nearest apothecary, he found Harry passed out on the couch, snoring gently, hand hanging over the side of the couch. Snape just shook his head, grabbed a blanket from Harry's room, and tucked it around Harry, leaving him to sleep. Snape found it more peaceful like that anyways.

Harry opened his eyes slightly, still feeling a bit sleepy, not knowing how he had fallen asleep, quite honestly to himself. He heard a couple of voices in the distance. One of them seemed to be a woman's voice. It took him a couple of seconds to realize that the voices were closer than he thought they were. When his vision cleared up, he saw two people sitting in the living room. One of the figures was Snape, unmistakeable in his black attire. He took a closer look at the second person, and realized surprisingly that it was the familiar figure of Professor McGonagall.

Professor McGonagall saw Harry shift from her peripheral vision, and she turned her head to give him a smile. "Hello Harry, how are you?"

It took a second for Harry to respond. "I'm fine, Professor. How are you?" It was strange to see TWO of his teachers outside the Hogwarts walls, let alone one.

"I'm quite fine, thanks for asking. I just came over to bring over your summer homework that you are supposed to have complete by the end of next month." Harry saw a set of books, parchment, quills, and ink on the table in front of him. He suddenly realized that he had totally forgotten to bring his summer work with him from the Dursleys.

"Oh! I'm sorry, Professor..." Harry apologized.

"It's quite alright, Harry. Dumbledore sends his regrets in not reminding you to bring it along when he came for you, so he sent me over to complete the deed." She gave Harry a warm smile.

"Yes, it would be quite a regret to not have ALL your homework finished by the end of the summer, Potter," Snape joined in, sitting comfortably on his chair, watching Harry. "Did you complete the tasks I asked of you?"

"Yes, sir," Harry muttered, slightly rolling his eyes. Snape's eyes narrowed a bit, but he did not comment.

"Now, Harry, why don't you take your books to your room?" McGonagall offered.

"Alright," Harry answered, and stood up, grabbing all the materials with both of his hands, trying not to tip the ink over. A sudden desire came across his mind, and, awkwardly, turning towards Snape, he asked, "Uhm...I've kinda wanted to ride my Firebolt for a little while, just to get some practice back in for the new year...may I ride on it for awhile?" Although he did not want to, he felt some strange inclination to ask Snape for permission.

Snape was silent for a moment, debating. Finally, he sighed and said, "Fine, you may. But do stay in the backyard where I know where you are."

Harry nodded, excitement building up inside of him, as he walked quickly with all his books and materials to his room.

"He seems to be getting more comfortable around here, isn't he Severus?" McGonagall stated, while Snape just stared at the foolish boy as he ran to his room.

"You could say that," Snape said simply. He couldn't really care less how he felt here. He was just there so that Snape could protect him from harm. That was all.

"How're you two getting along?" McGonagall asked, and when Snape looked up, he could see that she had a little smirk on her face.

Snape couldn't come up with an answer immediately, but after a few seconds he just shook his head. "You do know the situation Minerva, I presume. I believe we are just tolerable enough to get by."

"I do understand, Severus. And yet...it wouldn't do too much harm to get to know the boy," Minerva gave him a knowing look. Snape sighed. McGonagall was one of the only other people, other than Dumbledore, that really understood his situation, and his past. And yet, he thought, she seemed to be blinded sometimes.

"Perhaps," Severus reluctantly said. "Although I don't see that happening very likely."

"It'll take some effort from the both of you, ofcourse," McGonagall pointed out.

"Do you really think the boy would ever be willing to anyways, Minerva, really? He despises me as much as I do him," Snape said a little harshly.

"You judge too quickly. Give him more credit than that. You might find that he's up to the challenge."

"What's the point, anyways?" Snape started to attack defensively. "Pray, tell me, what good would it do for either of us to try and grow closer? I am his teacher, he is my student. This relationship should stand at an impersonal distance. I have agreed to let him stay here on the grounds of desperateness, but to try and adjust our relationship because of this misfortunate event is far from necessary."

Minerva was quiet as Snape finished his rant. When he stopped, Minerva just gave him a knowing look. And though she spoke no words, Severus saw the reply in her expression.

Snape shook his head, and just as he was about to reply, Harry ran into the room, carrying his precious Firebolt. He looked towards his two professors and gave them a tight smile, as he ran to the door that led to the backyard. It wasn't long before McGonagall and Snape heard a swish as the broom rose into the sky, Harry happily on it.

Snape silently stood up and walked towards the backyard. McGonagall watched Snape wonderingly, and soon stood up to follow him out. When she got there, she found Snape standing at the doorstep, staring into the sky, where Harry flew from left to right, up and down, anywhere his heart desired.

They stood there quietly for a couple of minutes, just watching him in the beautiful blue sky.

After awhile, they heard a soft voice behind them. "Why, hello Professors."

"Good afternoon, Headmaster," McGonagall answered, turning to see Dumbledore standing behind them, appearing simply out of nowhere. Snape however, was too immersed in his own thoughts to notice Dumbledore's appearance.

"Sorry to drop in unexpectedly, I just wanted to see how things were going." Dumbledore walked towards Snape, and put a gentle hand on his shoulder. "Hello my boy, how are you doing?"

"Alright, Albus," Snape answered quietly, still looking at the sky. Dumbledore looked upwards, to see Harry making his twentieth circle around the parameter of the small backyard.

"Hmm," Dumbledore said quietly. "He seems to get it from his father, doesn't he?"

"His mother was a great flier too," Snape answered. "She always flew her broom around my backyard, whenever she was frustrated and wanted some release. Sometimes I would take my broom and go up with her...and sometimes I would just sit and watch."

McGonagall walked towards them, until they were all standing together, watching. They were silent, a peaceful quietness settling over them.

"I miss her."

Both Dumbledore and McGonagall turned towards Snape, as he uttered those three words.

"I miss her...alot." Snape's voice shook slightly. He turned towards them, his eyes carrying a misty sight of pain. "It wasn't her time yet. She shouldn't have gone the way she did. She shouldn't have died!" Snape stopped speaking, as his voice was starting to waver, so he just looked away from them, back at the sky, and tried to harden his expression, not wanting to show the emotion he felt inside.

"Severus." McGonagall's voice was soft and gentle. "It's alright. You could have never stopped what happened."

"Yeah...but I caused it," Snape walked away from them, trying to bury his emotion into the deepest part of his heart.

"Why now, you didn't cause it." Dumbledore followed him, grabbing his shoulder so that he couldn't walk away. "You didn't know. You couldn't stop it. You can't blame yourself for this."

Snape stood rigidly, trying to control himself. He did not want to look like a fool, but the truth was, all he wanted to do was be alone. He tried to walk away again, but the feeling of Dumbledore's hand on his shoulder could not allow him to leave.

"Severus, you must try not to shut out so many from your life. Companionship, friendship, love...they are essential for human life. It will be alright, my boy. Stay strong."

Snape nodded, looking up at the sky once more, where Harry was starting to come lower on his broom, apparently exhausting himself from flying for almost an hour.

Snape turned around, where both Minerva and Albus were looking towards him, their faces not showing any emotion.

"We should go inside," Snape said, and the two other professors smiled in agreement, and they both entered the house, as Harry took his last couple of rounds on his Firebolt.

"Sir?"

"Yes?"

Harry did not know why he spoke up. Him and Snape were sitting at the kitchen table, eating dinner quietly. They had exchanged little conversation, before going off into their own worlds. Harry had been thinking about something personal, and a question had come up in his mind, but he couldn't understand why he was actually asking.

"Well...can you tell me a story about my mum?" Harry asking hesitantly.

Snape looked up with a quizzical look in his face, and a hint of something Harry could not identify.

"Why do you ask?" Snape said slowly.

"Ahh...well..." Harry was regretting even bringing up the subject. "I didn't know her very well. And you said you two were good friends...I just thought it'd be nice to learn something about her."

Snape stared at Harry, seeming to not know what to say. Harry was just about to take back the question, when Snape suddenly stood up and walked away from the table. Harry was very confused. But, in a couple of minutes, Snape returned, carrying a picture frame in his hand. He sat back down in his chair at the table and held out the picture frame towards Harry. Harry slowly took it from his hand and looked at the picture that was in the frame.

It was a picture of two children. One of the children, a bright, happy-faced girl with vibrant red hair, decked in clothes of red and gold. Another was a young boy, with hair up to the bottom of his chin, wearing dark green and black robes. He looked extremely happy as well. They were both holding a brook in one of their hands, and one of the boy's hands was wrapped around the girl's shoulders.

Harry could barely speak. "Is that..."

Snape nodded. "Usually whenever my parents were out of the house, your mother used to come over with her broom, and we used to fly around our backyard carelessly, sometimes playing a one-on-one game of pass-the-quaffle, since we wouldn't have enough people to play a real Quidditch game. Your mother was a really good flier."

Harry just stared at the picture of his mother, as a child. Her bright face it up the whole picture, and her deep, green eyes had a special sparkle in them. "I didn't know my mom was a good flier as well," Harry said quietly.

Both of them were silent for a couple of moments.

"You know, you were lucky," Harry said suddenly, surprising Snape.

"Why would you say a thing like that?" Snape said.

"Well, you knew her. You knew her for awhile. You guys were friends when you went to Hogwarts. You hung out with her...I never knew her. I never even saw her, never even talked to her..." Harry's voice wavered off.

Snape didn't know what to say. He never really thought of the fact that the boy had never known his mother. In a way, he was right. Snape was lucky enough to have even know her, let alone be good friends with her.

But yet, he didn't know what to say to Harry. He was not good with emotions.

All he could think of his putting his hand on Harry's shoulder.

And for some reason, that was more than Harry could have ever asked for him.

He put the picture back on the table, and got up from his chair. "I'm going to bed, Sir. Goodnight." He started to walk away, but he quickly turned around and said, almost in a whisper, "Thank you." He continued to walk away towards the hallway leading to the washroom.

Few words were spoken. And one simple "Thank You" may not have seemed much.

Snape looked back down towards the picture, the picture of him and Lily. When they were still innocent, happy, good friends.

For Snape, one "Thank You" was just enough for now.