Update-tastic and with only a few minutes till the NFL preshow (GO PACK GO!!) it's time to put a lot of stuff in context. I was an English major...I like context. This chapter is less filling than I recall and a lot of information. OK enough of me I own nothing yada yada...storytime! literally. -D

Gimmie Some Truth

Harry Potter stepped cautiously inside the office. The walls lined with trinkets of the Muggle world. Things he recognized. He had never been to his professor's office before but, all the same, he felt right at home.

Maylin still sat in the window, her cigarette dwindling.

"Come on over, Harry. I don't bite."

Harry smiled and stood before her desk. He said nothing.

Charmed by his politeness Maylin, gestured for Harry to sit in her chair. "It doesn't bite either." Harry smiled and came around the desk. He sat meekly in the chair and stared up at the woman before him.

"Does anyone know you smoke?"

"Are you going to tell my boss?"

"No."

"Then, yes, some do. Dumbledore caught me a million times years ago. He said it was a filthy habit, I told him he had more important things to worry about."

Harry smiled weakly.

Maylin closed off her mind. She wanted him to talk to her. "Does it bother you? I'll put it out; I'm old enough to buy more." Harry shook his head no.

Maylin lit up another but turned toward Harry. She surveyed his face, his scar, his eyes. Those were Lily's eyes. Maylin turned on her mother voice.

"Harry, Dear, what's bothering you?"

Harry fidgeted for a moment. He looked tired, not full of energy like he did earlier. Something was indeed going on.

"My scar hurts."

"I hear that's become relatively normal now what with Voldemort up to who knows what."

"It is - except, this is different. It doesn't feel like pain. It feels like sadness."

Maylin motioned for Harry to sit by the window. She tossed her cigarette onto the grounds and rolled up her sleeves. Harry sat next to her. She looked into those familiar eyes and placed her hand on his forehead. It was warm, but not feverish. Maylin removed her hand. "I hear you're having visions at night, dreams involving the plans of Voldemort."

Harry nodded his face a little confused. "Are you part of the Order?" Maylin shrugged. "I'm not really sure, honestly. I have my first meeting tonight. I can only assume that I've been invited. Besides, I've been a bit AWOL."

Harry pulled down on his sweater. And looked up into Maylin's eyes, a trait she enjoyed from young people. "Professor, did you know my mum?"

The question broad sided her, she blinked and tilted her head. "Why do you ask?"

Harry shrugged. "It's silly."

"Harry," Maylin interjected, "Nothing is silly."

Harry faced the floor as he spoke. "I had a dream last night. It was about my mother. And you were there. You were holding a baby - but the baby was dead. And you were crying. My mother stood beside you holding me. You got down on your knees and the baby was gone. My mum sat beside you and you told her a secret. I was standing there watching all of this happen and I turned and there was a man walking away. He turned back and it was Snape. He looked really young and my father went after him. But they disappeared. I looked back you were holding me and you were saying something." Maylin's face was stone still. Her eyes fixed on the boy in front of her.

Her voice faint but firm, "What was I saying?"

Harry closed his eyes and tried to remember. It was a poem.

A chain unbroken, bind thee to life.

One scar for many, cursed in strife.

For pain, for evil, left lone to thrive

A love to give, a life to survive."

Maylin's eyes opened widely with amazement. Momentarily placed her hands on her face and then opened them again to face the boy before her. Bewildered, Harry lowered his head. "There's more," he told the floor. More?

Maylin softened her voice. 'How much more, Dear?" Harry looked up. "You said a word. And when you said it, that's when my scar began to hurt. It was like this thick patch of sadness that just wouldn't go away. Professor," Harry paused. "I don't think I can handle this anymore." A silent tear fell down the young man's face. He didn't whine or complain, he didn't even cry really. He just didn't understand. And why should he?

Maylin stepped to her desk and knelt before Harry. She lightly kissed his forehead and wrapped her arms around him. Cradling his head on her shoulder she realized just how much he had grown.

"I knew your mother well." Harry didn't move his head.

"How well?"

Maylin smiled. "She was my best friend."

Harry pulled out of her hold and looked her in the eyes. "Do you know something, Professor?"

Maylin laughed out loud. "Of course I know something Harry." She composed herself and spoke with an air of concern. "The question is do you really want to know the things I know? There's a lot swimming around in here," she said pointing to her head.

Maylin sat back against the wall under the window. She reached up behind her and grabbed another cigarette. "You don't smoke, right?" Harry shook his head "no."

Maylin nodded. "Good kid."

She lit her smoke and thought for a moment. Voldemort can see into Harry through the bond of the scar. Harry can do the same, but Voldemort is stronger. Voldemort thinks that Harry may have the spell that nearly killed him. But I have it. But his dream? Something from Voldemort. No. Voldemort would be after me. But – Voldemort called on Snape. Snape knows. But he would never tell. Or would he? No. But. Maybe. But – damn. If Harry knows, he can open his mind. Then Voldemort would know. He would change his direction. Leave this kid alone – Maybe.

Maylin eye's went straight to Harry's scar. A glitch in the spell. The spell binds them. That's why they both lived. They're bound that's why Harry didn't die, couldn't die, he was protected then they were connected, that's why Voldemort didn't die, he was protected and Harry wasn't strong enough to deflect the spell with enough power to kill Voldermort, – she scorned herself sarcastically, fucking brilliant, May.

"Harry?" Maylin asked still staring at his forehead.

"Yes, ma'am?"

"Can you keep a secret?"

Yes ma'am."

"Good then, it's story time."

"Will there be a quiz?" Harry smiled.

Maylin smiled back, "No dear, no quiz. Just context."

Maylin settled into her place on the floor.

"My mother died when I was young, I was three. After her death I went to live with my aunt, a squib in the outskirts of London. Your mother lived but two doors down. When she about ten she left for a boarding school. I had no idea at the time that it was Hogwarts. But to my surprise I also received a letter, it was from my grandmother; a woman I had never met. She said that conventional schooling no longer held a place for me and it was only with her that I would receive the proper training to be the woman I would one day become.

So I left my home, the family I knew, and for the next five years I lived in a cottage in the southern foothills of Ireland. My grandmother gave me a wand. It once belonged to my mother and it was the perfect fit. I learned everything I would have at Hogwarts through her and in the summers your mother visited. She would talk about all the things she had learned and we wondered why I had never gotten my letter.

But, unlike Hogwarts, my Gran taught me things not written in textbooks. She taught me the power of the mind – how to see through into thoughts. She taught me art not just of spell casting, but of spell crafting. Spell craft is specialized schooling only fit for those who have passed it down through blood. An art, she said, I would never learn at a wizardry prep school.

I was never to speak of this art to anyone. The time would come she said to introduce new spells. As the world changed, so would our needs. And a powerful spell in the wrong hands could destroy more easily than facilitate good. I would know when the time was right.

I took my O.W.L.'s from her kitchen table and not three months later I received my letter. I entered Hogwarts in my sixth year and much to my chagrin and surprise I was placed in the Slytherin House. Lily was convinced it was something to do with my father. I too believe this is true.

I had several close relations in my own house, but Severus Snape -"

"You're married right?" Harry cut in looking up from the floor.

Maylin stared inquisitively. "How – ?"

"Do I know?"

"Yes."

Harry smiled. "We all know, Professor. Most of our parents were there, Mrs. Weasely even sent pictures of your wedding. Looked like a lot of fun actually. The whole school knows but, it's not like we were going to say anything. The two of you might've of killed us. Draco told the school about the two of you not being together. Because of your son and all." He paused. "I guess he didn't even want to bring it up."

"Huh, so Draco did something smart for a change." She ran her hand through her hair. "How long have you...the school apparently, how long have you all known?"

"Since the first owl mailing after you fell through the roof."

Maylin lit another cigarette. Harry said nothing, he just stared mouth slightly agape. Maylin smiled at the boy. "He was lot different back then. Severus, I mean. We both were." She nudged Harry, "He was really hot too."

Harry rolled his eyes. "That's really just gross, Professor."

Maylin nudged him again.

"So what happened, Professor?"

Maylin breathed deep.

"Well, one night all things changed. The power of the Dark Lord began to rise and Severus as I'm sure you know, as you seem to know much, stood by his side. I have no explanation for that though I feel one has found itself my way. Regardless, in one night, my son – our son, William, was dead. I was ordered to join the side of Voldemort. I refused and they left me to die and think it over. When Severus appeared he fed me a potion and confessed his allegiance. To say I was in shock, would be a vast understatement. He stood there as they removed the body of our son. Furious, hurt, lost betrayed, you name the pain, I felt it - I found myself on the doorstep of your parents.

I told them what happened. James left to find Severus, I can only imagine it was to beat the living Hell out of him. But that evening I held you. Asleep and unassuming, I decided that at least one child deserved to live. I created a spell for you. A simple spell to return a deadly curse to its original source. I gave it to your mother and father. I gave it to you. I only stayed a few days."

Maylin's thoughts trailed.

"Remember Holden from the beginning of the term?"

Harry nodded.

"Well, that whole bar thing, with the slicing and the dicing? After my son died I was handed new orders by the Ministry. I was ordered to protect a group of wizards they felt were prime candidates for Voldemort. I lasted one day on that job. I had had enough. That was the night before your parents were killed. I left England the morning your parents were attacked. I don't know why they died and you lived. The spell wasn't supposed to work like that. I can only assume that I missed something when I created it. Whatever it was, I believe your mother found it. I have a pretty good idea what it was."

Harry scratched his head awkwardly and raised his voice. "Is that why Professor Snape hates me so much? Because, of you son?"

Maylin pushed herself to knees, leaning into the boy.

"I think it has something to do with the fact that you're a constant reminder of what he lost. And he lost – everything." Harry understood. "But no, I really don't why."

"Harry, if Voldemort gets a hold of the spell, those simple words can return him to full power. All he needs is a starting place."

"The words from my dream." Harry made the connection.

Maylin nodded. "Harry, do you remember what I said in the dream. The actual words, not the poem?"

Harry shook his head 'no.'

"Good," Maylin said standing. She took one last drag of her cigarette and tossed it out the window. "Think of what I've told you, think of those words, do not try to remember them, only that I said them. Let Voldemort know that I have spell, that it is me he wants, not you."

A weight lifted from Harry's chest. "Yes ma'am. Thank you ma'am."

Maylin smiled.

"No trouble, Dear. It's time I take credit where credit is due, Come'ere."

Harry leaned on her shoulder as she wrapped her arms around the boy. She was comfortable to him, warm like he had always imagined his mother to be. He buried his face in her hair and breathed heavily. He felt like a little child. He had always known that people on the outside cared about him but he never felt something like this. Her willingness, her openness, it just felt, unconditional, genuine.

"Professor?"

"Yes, dear?"

"What did you really do with the Ministry? Were you like, an Auror?"

Maylin smiled and laughed to herself.

"Sort of. When I left England and moved to America I found myself dealing with a whole new mess and breed of Dark Lords. I'm trained to track down and dispose of wizards who in many cases down even know they're wizards. Where I've gone there are no wands, no spells, just magic out of control and manifested in some of the most horrible people on Earth. Wizards beyond rehabilitation - murderers, power hungry and disturbed souls. The last one I put down was a child – well, he was 20, so sick and uncontrollable with the rage and magic inside of him. He killed both of his parents and sisters. His town thought it was some kind of demon possession. But it was uncontrolled magic. That's why we have places like Hogwarts. Without a place like this, the Wizarding world would be nothing but chaos and death."

"Is that why you have a gun?"

"They don't carry wands in America. But they're starting too – slowly."

Harry undug his face and looked at his teacher. He smiled at her. She smiled back. Harry stood from her side and she followed suit.

"Tell no one outside the Order what I've told you. I'm trusting you." Maylin placed her hand in her pocket and touched the memory. She moved toward the door.

"I have to go Harry. Remember, let Voldemort find me, please close the door when you leave." Maylin grabbed her long coat from beside her desk and headed to the door. She opened it.

"Professor!" Harry cried. Maylin spun like a top.

"Yes, Dear."

Harry stopped again and put his hands in his pockets. He spoke slowly.

"Professor Hunter, why do you help me? I mean, there was no way to bring your son back. And now, everything is crazy, but, I don't know. I guess, I just don't get why you're so bent on helping me. I've done pretty good so far on my own."

Maylin leaned lazily on the edge of the doorway. She pulled a loose strand of hair behind her ear.

"It's my job to watch after you, Harry, and it's a job that I've put off far too long."

"But, why?"

Maylin smiled, "Because, Dear, what else would you have your godmother do?" Maylin

winked Harry's way and then raced down toward the dungeons.