AN: This is the last "fast track" chapter, to make up for the summer. I will update every other Monday from now on (hopefully). I need to go back to having a cushion of chapters written ahead.

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Alduin was contemplating the Draco business.

He knew what most people were afraid of, of course. It was generally known where Lucius' loyalties were in the war, and sooner or later, his son would be expected to join as well. Anyone who was good friends with Draco from childhood risked being dragged down with him, and after they saw what it was like, everyone who still could was attempting to stay neutral when Riddle returned.

It was a reasonable strategy, of course...but.

Harry's position was different altogether. If there was one thing there was no danger of, it was him becoming a follower of Riddle.

There was, of course, the emotional trauma he would have if he had to watch his good friend become one. On the other hand, dangling a possibility of such a friendship for his son before Lucius could work wonders. On yet another hand, though, there was the Gryffindor outrage that would be bound to happen if such friendship occurred, headed by Augusta Longbottom.

So...the middle ground, then.

No close friendship could be encouraged, no cozy one-on-one visits like Harry shared with Neville now. But he would not discourage it either, and let it be seen if the youngest Malfoy had charms enough to gain a friend with no prejudice against him.

But there was still time for all of that. Harry needed more practice before he could hold his own with the Malfoys at least for a moment. It was time for the Crouches and the Ollivanders, and then perhaps that tea with Andromeda.

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Neville did come to make use of the snow fort in a few days, and as they were building tiny snow wizards on the walls, he said: "I asked Gran about Snape."

Harry raised his head from modeling a wand, curious. "And?"

"Well, she doesn't like him, that's for sure." Neville grimaced. "I should have known that – Gran doesn't like anyone from Slytherin, and he's the head of Slytherin, did you know? Anyway, she says he was all about the Dark Arts in school and is very dangerous, and that he actually used to be a Death Eater in the war."

Harry broke his tiny wizard's wand. "What?"

"Yeah..."

"Don't tell me Dumbledore would let a follower of Riddle to teach at the school!" Harry abandoned any attempts at sculpting to stare at Neville in shock.

"Well, Gran says Dumbledore said he was a spy for our side, but that she has some doubts," the boy explained, still concentrating on his figurine.

Harry was frowning. "I don't want to say anything against your grandmother," he said, "but I really don't think my mum would have been friends with him if he was some evil dark arts type of person..."

"Oh, don't worry about it too much." Neville seemed embarrassed. "Like I said, Gran doesn't like Slytherin. I reckon he was really a spy and she just doesn't want to believe it. I mean, after all, if Dumbledore says so..."

But Harry couldn't let it go so easily. Alduin had said Snape and his mum had fallen out, after all. Could it have been over something like this? He had forbidden Harry to ask Snape about it...it would make sense, wouldn't it? Too much sense…

Harry was starting to get angry, and Neville, who was watching him carefully, said: "Harry, calm down. I shouldn't have told you."

"You definitely should have – and Alduin should have as well! He didn't like my dad – ha, I bet! This must have been why!"

Neville winced. "Harry, you don't know that. Please, just...you're going to ask your cousin about it, aren't you?"

"You bet I am!" Harry was, in fact, already getting up.

"Don't go to him being all accusing," Neville begged. "Maybe he's right and my Gran is wrong. Just ask him calmly, can you do that?"

Harry sighed. "I'll try," he promised, "but I'm really angry."

"I can see that...though I don't really get why. It's not like he recommended Snape as best mate for you, is it? He only asked him because you wanted some friends of your mother's," Neville pointed out.

"Yeah, well, not Death Eater friends!" Harry exhaled. "I'm just mad he didn't tell me. I mean, I already know there are Death Eaters running free...he even explained to me why I shouldn't be as angry about it as I was, though I had some trouble accepting that..."

"Maybe that's why he didn't tell you? Because he wanted the visit to go calmly?"

"Yeah, maybe. But he still should have. He should have trusted me!"

Harry didn't say it aloud, but he felt hurt. It had really seemed to him like Alduin had faith in him and always told him the truth, and now this?

He took a deep breath and promised himself to wait for a while and then try and stay calm when he talked to his cousin, like Neville had said. There was a chance he had got it wrong, after all.

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Harry didn't want to confront Alduin over dinner, in Alexandra's presence, so he waited till the next morning, and at breakfast, he stated bluntly: "Neville asked his Gran about Snape and she says he was a Death Eater."

Alduin sighed, and rubbed his eyes. "Did she tell him the rest as well, or would that be too much to ask?"

"You mean about him being a spy?" Harry poked at his sausage. "Yeah, but she doesn't believe it."

"Imagine my surprise." Alduin took a sip of tea. "I take it you don't believe it either?"

"Why did he and my mum fall out?" Harry answered with a question.

"Ah." Alduin paused. "It was not because of that, I can promise you...or not quite, at any rate. It's very personal for Professor Snape, and I really do not feel I have the right to tell you, but I can see that you will not believe me unless I tell you something at least."

Harry had the grace to feel ashamed at this, but it didn't change that Alduin was right.

Alduin seemed to steel himself, and then he began. "Professor Snape went to Hogwarts at the time when Riddle's influence over Slytherin reached its peak. There were many future Death Eaters among its students. Professor Snape did not share their belief – he was best friends with your Muggle-born mother, after all, and a half-blood himself – but he did not go declaring it too publicly. His life there was difficult enough, being poor and socially awkward, and I think you can't blame him for being unwilling to make it even harder. You didn't tell the Dursleys what you really thought of them either, I'd wager."

Harry, who had been about to protest that it had been cowardly of Snape, closed his mouth, and Alduin continued: "He slept in one room with some of those boys, boys who were raised by Death Eater parents. It would have been rather risky. They mocked him enough for your mother as it was. But he spent time with them, because at Hogwarts, you can't really avoid spending time with your house-mates, and so the Gryffindors, including your father, saw him as simply one of them, with the same misguided opinions. And the more your father and his friends mocked and harassed him for it, the more they actually drove him to the Slytherin ranks. It peaked one day at the end of their fifth year, when they attacked him very publicly. Half the school was there, watching him being molested, and everyone was laughing. His Slytherin mates were preparing to put an end to it by sneakily attacking your father when your mother appeared and spoke in Snape's defense. Snape saw the sneers of those who had been coming to help him just a moment ago, and he...well, his anger over the whole situation got the better of him, and he told your mother he did not need her help, and called her a Mudblood."

"A what?"

Alduin sighed. "It's a very offensive slur used by blood purity fanatics to talk about the Muggle-Born. As you can imagine, your mother did not take it well, and their friendship ended over this. He did join the Death Eaters later, likely because it felt like he had no other option, but changed sides as soon as two years into it, in spite of the terrible risk involved."

Harry was silent for a long while, slowly chewing his bacon. "So my father was attacking Snape because he thought he was a future Death Eater?"

"Among other reasons, yes." Alduin took another sip of his tea.

"And that led to him actually becoming a Death Eater later?" Harry continued.

"Yes," his cousin replied, putting the teacup down.

Harry frowned, thinking again. "It's really terrible," he said then. "I'm sure dad would have felt dreadful if he had known."

Alduin stayed silent.

"And mum didn't know either, did she? I mean, because she started to date dad afterward..." Harry couldn't imagine she'd date someone who drove her friend to such ends, even if he did it unknowingly and the friend in question offended her. Why did Dad harass Snape in the first place? Couldn't he have left him alone? Harry was still convinced it was that Black's fault.

"As you know, I wasn't really friendly with your mother," Alduin replied, "but I surmise that she did not know, as you say, and that she had perhaps suspected Professor Snape of real sympathies towards Death Eater for some time, and saw the word he used as a confirmation. So it would have seemed to her that your father had been right all along, and, well..."

"How do you know the things about Snape, though?" Harry demanded. "Were you friends with him as well?"

Alduin shook his head. "No. I know James' side of the story because I argued with him about it frequently, and the other side of the story because I knew some of the Syltherin classmates of Snape's, or their relatives. Not too well, but well enough to hear them complain about him from time to time." He sighed. "And then the complaints stopped, and I knew another young wizard was lost to Riddle, and your father was partly to blame for it. We had an enormous argument about it."

Harry looked brooding, half of his breakfast untouched on his plate. Alduin sighed. "He didn't know that was going to happen, Harry. Don't blame him for that – in the end, joining the Death Eaters was Professor Snape's own decision. Just remember the lesson coming from this, and don't be too rash and too hard on people."

Harry only nodded mutely. "How do you know Professor Snape turned spy?" He asked, then, in a subdued voice.

"The time when Dumbledore says he'd turned spy corresponds with the time your parents went into hiding. It's not difficult to surmise he turned because of the danger to your mother's life, because it helped him fully realize what he had got himself into. And also, Harry, Dumbledore trusted him. I'm not one of his great admirers, but the man is not stupid and when he says Snape was loyal to him, then trust me, he has some very good reason to say so. However much he likes to pretend to be a slightly senile grandfather, he can be very sharp and ruthless."

Harry's frown deepened. For all his time at the Dursleys had been hell, the world had been somehow much simpler at that time.

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Before the Crouches came over and Harry had a chance to ask Ginevra Ollivander as was what it was like to be the best in her year, there was an evening event in which he had been asked not to participate: Alduin's group of bookish friends came over for an evening party.

Harry was expected to take dinner in his room. It was preceded by apologies and explanations from Alduin, who told Harry that normally, this was what happened when formal dinners were given by families – the children of the house ate separately. It seemed a little strange to Harry, and he wondered whether his cousin wasn't simply worried about him embarrassing him in front of all his clever friends.

He knew he was really supposed to be upstairs in his room, but instead he hid on the landing to watch the people arrive. The only one he recognized was Mr. Muhammad Shafiq, Alduin's best friend's father, whom he had met when they returned the Shafiqs' visit. There was a good number of really old-looking witches and wizards coming, some probably as old as Miss Burke's great-great-grandmother. In total, the group seemed to contain about twenty people, and Harry was truly curious about who they were. He supposed he would meet them in time, when he saw more wizarding families, but what was it that was so special about this meeting that Alduin didn't want him there?

When everyone was in the drawing room, Harry climbed up to his room and waited for Sibby to bring him his meal. "Do you know what are they discussing downstairs?" He asked then.

"Sibby does not know, Master Harry," the elf said, "but Sibby can find out!"

Harry struggled briefly with himself, and promptly let his curiosity win. "Yes, please."

Obligingly, Sibby disappeared, and when she returned to take his dirty plates away, she reported: "Sibby heard they were talking about the effect a possibility of time-travel with a chance of changing the timeline would have on prophecies and their reliability."

Harry frowned. Prophecies? Were they discussing him? "Did you hear my name mentioned, Sibby? Or Riddle's?"

"No, Master. They mentioned many names, most of them foreign, but not yours, and no mention of Riddle."

"Hm. Okay, then. Thanks," Harry said absently, and Sibby disappeared again.

Harry paced his room. Were they talking about him, or were they not? He wished he knew. He could ask Alduin tomorrow, of course, but he already felt bad about being angry with him over that Snape business. What if he was wrong in this case as well? But then again, what if he wasn't? If they were talking about something related to him, he wanted to know! Frowning, he decided to creep down again and try to listen at the evening parlour door.

He almost fell asleep there.

If the group inside was truly discussing something that concerned him, they were doing so in such obscure terms that he could not recognize it. He didn't even know half the words they were using, and the conversation teemed with 'paradoxes' and 'metaphysics'. When someone who appeared to be one of the older women by the tone of their voice started to speak in Latin, Harry decided it was time for him to retire. It appeared that, if he wanted to know, he would have to ask his cousin after all.