Angel eyes on you.
They love all that they see.

THE NEXT DAY, August 16th 11AM

After Snape's accident on the rug no one was in the mood to discuss Harry Potter any further for the night. I still hadn't gotten the answers I was looking for but with everyone becoming sick and intoxicated my questions had to wait. When I awoke on the couch the next morning I decided that would be the day I would get my answers, no matter how much Severus and Draco tried to dance around the subject.

"How's everyone feeling this morning?" Severus asked cheerfully as he walked out of the guest bedroom. Draco was coming out of the bathroom at the same time and we both just groaned in response.

"How can you be so cheerful?" I asked as I gently massaged my forehead, "I feel like I've been hit by a trunk."

"He's a potions master remember," answered Draco, "and if he's a nice potions master he'll share with the rest of us." Severus chuckled and pulled out two vials of a disgusting looking green liquid from a pocket of his robes.

"Take this you brats and stop your whining," he sneered as he gave us each a vial, "You shouldn't drink if you can't handle it."

"Excuse me, but it wasn't Draco or I who decided to paint the rug in yellow and orange last night."

"Don't even mention that Jenny," Draco said as he held his stomach tight, "I don't even want to think about it."

Draco and I downed the potion and almost instantly I began to feel better. I handed the empty vial to Severus and headed off to the bathroom to shower and change. It didn't take long and when I returned I found Severus and Draco eating quietly at the kitchen table.

"Have some toast Jenny," Draco said as he pushed a plate piled full of toast toward me.

"Thanks," I replied and gave him a small smile. I buttered the toast lightly and began to eat. The kitchen was silent except for the sounds of knives scraping on toast and juice being poured.

"After breakfast I'd like to finish our conversation from last night," I stated, making sure that they knew from the tone of my voice that it was more than a request.

"I suppose we should," Draco mumbled through bites of toast. Severus just shook his head.

"I don't know if we should be telling you everything, some of this is confidential information," Severus answered and I immediately saw red.

"He could be my Father," I said slowly as anger built in my voice, "and yet you want to keep things from me. Why is that I wonder? Is it guilt over what happened or shame for what you've done?"

"Now, wait just a minute," Severus started to say but I interrupted him immediately.

"No, you wait just a minute!" I yelled and suddenly there was a loud snapping noise and orange juice flowed out all over the kitchen table.

"Calm down Jenny, please calm down," Draco said nervously as he slowly rubbed my back. Severus just stared at the broken pitcher that had been holding the juice and said nothing. With a wave of his wand the table was clean once again. He quietly rose from the table and headed towards the living room, motioning for both of us to follow.

"Take a seat and I'll answer your questions," he said as he sat down in the armchair next to the fire. Draco and I just stared at him for a moment before we both sat down on the couch.

"What changed your mind?" I asked in confusion. Severus just sighed and slumped further into the armchair.

"Perhaps I feel as though you have a right to know," he answered, "or perhaps it is only my guilt begging me to share what I have done with someone, anyone. I'm not quite sure."

"I would be honored if you would share your story with me," I replied and Draco nodded his head in agreement.

"HA!" he exclaimed harshly, causing Draco and I to flinch, "You think it would be an honor to know what happened? How idiotic. This story is not an honorable story. Nothing in my life has ever been honorable, whether it was crawling on my hands and knees in front of the Dark Lord or subjugating myself to Dumbledore, none of it involved honor, believe me." He barely stopped to take a breath before continuing on.

"After Potter's fifth year he was taken to Grimmauld Place. I believe we spoke about that last night," he asked and Draco and I nodded in agreement and urged him forward, "Well, after that summer it was decided that he would not return to Hogwarts. No, of course he couldn't return there, it was much too dangerous," he sneered the word dangerous, sarcasm dripping from each syllable."

"He wouldn't have been able to return there if we had asked him to, by then he was too far gone. By then he was more monster then boy, more machine then man," he said softly as he stared off at the wall behind us.

"What did he do that year then?" Draco asked, "I've always wondered about that."

"He was still trained everyday, even though he hardly needed it anymore," responded Severus, "I always had a feeling he was powerful. He had to be didn't he? He did destroy the Dark Lord when he was only one, it had to be a given that he would be extremely powerful." He paused for a moment as if he was trying to find the right words to say so he could continue.

"So we used the power to our advantage. It made sense didn't it? We were fighting an evil Dark Lord and his merry band of psychopathic killers, why wouldn't we use his power to defeat them if we could?" It was easy to see that Severus was trying to convince himself, not us, so Draco and I just sat there in silence and waited for him to continue.

"He was sent on missions for the Order. Since he no longer attended school he had no other responsibilities so he was sent out nearly every night. He fought and he was excellent at it but he would still get injured just the same as the other Order members. Yet, it wasn't exactly the same. They were adults, their bodies were used to the abuse and physically they could take the strain. Potter was a sixteen year old boy who had been malnourished and locked up most of his life; he was barely taller or bigger than a thirteen year old." His eyes glazed over as he became submerged in his thoughts.

"I still remember his first mission. I wasn't allowed to go of course because I needed to be protected. After the Dark Lord returned he knew that I had been a spy for Dumbledore and he wanted me dead. Why this same thinking didn't apply to Potter is beyond me? I suppose it was the fact that I am a potions master and was needed in that capacity while Potter was a fighter, only a weapon, to be used in the capacity of a weapon." Out of the corner of my eye I could say Draco wiping his eyes to keep a few stray tears from falling. The tears in my eyes had already begun to fall and I didn't feel like making them stop. Instead I just enjoyed the feeling of the soft, cool drops falling onto my hands as Severus continued on.

"He was bruised and beaten. There were marks from hexes and curses all over his body. We healed him the best we could and the next night he was sent out once more. It became a routine and after a few weeks he no longer cried and screamed for help when they brought him back to Grimmauld Place, instead he just stared at us. I remember feeding him potions and thinking to myself that I had never seen eyes like that. Even when I attempted to divert my gaze elsewhere I could still feel his eyes on me. It was a feeling that I can't even describe, it was like bugs crawling on your skin and sweat rolling down your back."

He paused for a moment and Draco ran into the kitchen to make tea. I couldn't help but scratch my arms and legs absentmindedly. My skin suddenly felt itchy and uncomfortable. Severus and I sat in silence, neither of us looking at each other, until Draco finally returned with the tea. He handed Severus and I each a cup and then sat down next to me on the couch once more.

"This went on for a few years," Severus said as he rested the teacup in his lap, "But an odd thing happened in the middle of what would have been Potter's sixth year. He was on a mission for the Order once again and he was hit with the killing curse."

"The killing curse?" I whispered, "But how did he survive that, in the books it says that he only survived the curse once and that was when he was a baby." Draco just shook his head and Severus chuckled.

"Don't believe everything you read in books," Severus answered, "Potter was hit by the killing curse that night, I was there when they carried in his body. Everyone was crying and sobbing like a bunch of idiots and then Dumbledore walked in. He didn't cry of course, or even give a hint that Potter's death affected him a bit, instead he picked up the body and portkeyed back to Hogwarts. The next day I woke up to find Potter eating breakfast at the kitchen table looking as if nothing had happened."

"But how?" I asked, I couldn't believe what I was hearing, "How did Dumbledore bring him back to life?"

"No one knows," Severus said with a shrug, "and Dumbledore never told. Even after Potter disappeared he never told anyone how Potter kept on coming back from the dead."

"Wait a minute," I interrupted, "you said kept on coming back," he nodded his head, "How many times did he come back from the dead exactly?" Severus stared at the ceiling and looked to be counting in his head.

"He was hit with the killing curse thirty-six times," he answered and I spit my tea halfway across the room in response. Draco softly patted my back as I tried to catch my breath.

"Did you say thirty-six times?" I stammered, "He died thirty-six times?"

"No," Severus shook his head as he answered, "I said he was hit with the killing curse thirty-six times. The killing curse isn't the only way to die."

"So he died more then thirty-six times?" I asked in disbelief.

"He was hit with the curse thirty-six times, stabbed through the heart twice, had his throat cut three times, and was poisoned once," Draco answered as he ticked off each with his fingers.

"So he died a total of...forty-two times?" I asked, "Holy shit!"

"Yes, holy shit indeed," Severus mumbled as he took a sip of tea, "That's why we said that your Father could not be Harry Potter because Harry Potter can't die. Do you understand now?" I nodded my head and stood up to go clean the tea off the front of shirt but stopped in mid-step.

"My Father wasn't killed," I said.

"So?" asked Draco.

"So, what if that makes a difference? He didn't get killed, he killed himself," I answered, "Maybe the reason Harry Potter never died was because other people tried to kill him and maybe he died now because he wanted to die." Draco stared down at his feet and Severus played with the hem of his robes.

"Well, I could be right, couldn't I?" I asked as they continued to try and ignore me.

"Jenny," Severus said softly as he walked over to stand in front of me, "Harry died forty-two times at the hands of other people. He had been beaten, tortured, raped, and used. Do you really think that he never wished for death?"

"Are you saying..." I began but was interrupted.

"He's saying," Draco said as he stood next to Severus, neither one taking their eyes off me, "Harry was murdered forty-two times, but he died more than forty-two times."

"Fuck," was my only reply as I stumbled away from them towards the bathroom. I stopped once again and turned around to look at them.

"How many times?" I whispered. They both looked at each other before Severus spoke once again.

"Are you sure you want to..."

"HOW MANY TIMES?" I yelled.

"Twelve," Draco replied softly. I said nothing and continued my journey to the bathroom. Once there I collapsed onto my knees and cradled the white porcelain of the toilet bowl reverently. It was my turn to be sick.

Author's Note: Thank you for all the reviews, they are much appreciated.