Embracing His True Self

Chapter 10

One Week Later

Albus Dumbledore was beyond furious; he had been searching high and low for Potter now for a week and three days. Nobody had even so much as caught a glimpse of him. The only meager consolation he had was that Voldemort was just as much in the dark as the rest of them, he knew that due to Severus' spying for them. That wasn't to say Voldemort didn't know about it, unfortunately he did; the Ministry had found out and were also searching for Harry, splashing that fact across the newspapers. Between the Aurors and Death Eaters, the Order was being stretched to the max to try and find the boy first. The Ministry had found out due to the disappearance of the Dursleys; thankfully they hadn't known about Arabella.

Their disappearance did worry him. Why take them at all? Why Arabella? He feared something more was at work here. What if someone had found out? What if they were telling Potter everything? No, nobody had found out; he always made sure that he had all his bases covered. Yet it was the one thing that made all this make sense. Potter had simply run away, and in that time Voldemort had taken the Dursleys in his anger and possibly killed them, or tried to get the information out of them. Not that there would be anything useful, they didn't know where Potter was.

Harry had been secluded in the Muggle world; he had made sure of that. Other than school, the boy went nowhere. He'd be more lost in the Muggle world than the magical world; perhaps he should step up his searches in Diagon Alley and Hogsmeade. All it would take was for the boy to be within the vicinity of the spell, and he would get him back. This would not happen again; he was through playing with kid gloves… two years in a row of pulling a disappearing act. Idiot of a boy, he was all that stood between a free world or world domination at Voldemort's hands. No, he was far too important to be allowed free rein; this had to be done, for the greater good.

The old schemer sighed in contemplation; he would need to find the boy first before he could employ the measures to secure him. Perhaps it was time to tighten his hold on his friends, Granger and of course the Weasleys.

Plucking out a lemon drop, he untwisted the wrapper and plopped the sour sweet into his mouth, already feeling the calming affects that came courtesy of the potion they'd been dipped into. There was a special selection doctored with Veritaserum, charmed to make the person seeing them want one, so he didn't have to force the sweet on them and cause suspicion.

He had the entire Order looking for the boy right now, spread out too thin, and scouring every inch of the country repeatedly. He wasn't about to give in, he couldn't; the whole world depended on him. He hated that it was Potter, not him, but he believed in the prophecy completely. It was why he had ensured it came to pass. Then dropped the boy of with people he knew would despise every breath he took; his parents had seen to that one themselves.

"Albus, you asked to see me?" Severus enquired, entering the Headmaster's office dressed entirely in black, his face made of stone.

"Ah, Severus, come in, have a seat," Albus said, sitting up straighter.

"You wished to see me?" Snape repeated, strengthening his mental barriers. Nobody had gotten past them since he had perfected them, and nobody was going to now either. Especially not Albus Dumbledore; he might think he was stronger but he was nothing on the Dark Lord, who had taught Severus secretly before he had pretended to repent ― showing the headmaster only what he wanted him to see while the old man 'taught' him how to hide his thoughts. He hadn't even suspected for a moment that Severus already knew everything there was to know. That plan had been put in motion before Lily had been targeted.

"Tell me, Severus: is there a way to track Harry down?" Albus asked his gaze shrewd.

Severus arched en eyebrow, "There are many ways to track a wizard down, as you well know, Headmaster, and as far as I am aware you have tried each one only to be met with constant failure."

"Any other means?" Albus corrected.

"I hope you are not implying what I think you are, Albus," Severus warned, narrowing his eyes in displeasure.

"You know how important Harry is to us. Only he can end the war; only he has the chance of stopping Voldemort." Albus said, not even blinking as Severus winced at the pain. "You swore to protect him; we need to find him so we can do just that before he is found by the Death Eaters and taken to Voldemort."

Severus bit his tongue to stop the words he so wanted to spout at Dumbledore. The old coot knew damn well the mark hurt whenever anyone was stupid enough to say the Dark Lord's name; it didn't matter that it wasn't him, it just reacted. He was being asked to brew a potion that Dumbledore had fought against, stopped, and made illegal; his hypocrisy knew no bounds. "It's not that simple, to create it I would need fresh blood, or hair," Severus eventually ground out through gritted teeth.

"How fresh?" Albus frowned, disappointed and irate. He needed to find the boy and he didn't care how he went about accomplishing it.

"A week," Severus lied bare-faced, and Dumbledore would never find out; the books weren't specific. He had a good idea now, since he had found Harry using saliva and blood that was over a decade old. It was true the house in Godric's Hollow had been made into a shrine and sort of preserved, that might have had a bit to do with it, but he wasn't one hundred percent sure on that. No, the boy would remain safe where he was, and he never thought he would hear himself saying that.

The world was turning on its axis and he was just going with the flow, trying to stay sane.

"I see," Albus muttered. He had neither blood nor hair of the boy anyway, so that wouldn't have worked. He wished he had taken the time to gather some now. It would have made this infinity easer.

"The boy will show up," Severus scowled, "You know how he is, he likes attention. He's a spoiled, selfish brat, and I've been telling you that for years, Albus. You continued to let him off with things that would have seen an ordinary student expelled. You've spoiled him and allowed him to think he's above the rules; it's little wonder he thinks he can pull stunts like this and come back whenever he pleases." He took perverse pleasure in the way Albus paled and his lips disappeared; the old man knew that he was right, that was the biggest satisfaction of all. Unfortunately he also knew he was wrong, Harry hadn't been spoiled but Dumbledore wasn't aware he had looked into the minds of the Muggles Harry had lived with.

"Perhaps you are correct, but after this latest stunt, no more," Albus replied in a clipped tone, "He will learn the consequences of his actions one way or another." Starting with no more Quidditch, or Hogsmeade outings; all extracurricular activity will be banned.

"It's about time, Albus," Severus stated. In a way Albus was being blindsided, he had no idea the Dark Lord had Harry, and that he hadn't come on his own violation. He trusted him, such a fool; he believed in him saying that the Dark Lord didn't have the boy… where else did he seriously think the boy would go? The leash had been kept too tightly wound for Harry to contemplate the idea of leaving.

"Yes, yes it is," Albus said, his eyes darkening slightly as he thought of Potter and all the plans he had derailed and the time he was having to waste to find him. He had to get the Order ready; Voldemort would be making his move soon. Add in the mess with the Ministry and he just found it difficult to keep himself calm. To make matters worse, he had just received word that the Minister was appointing a teacher at his school, and there was nothing he could do about it, since he couldn't get anyone to fill the position. Nobody wanted to risk being his DADA teacher anymore, due to the things that continued happening. Unfortunately the word had spread despite how hard he tried to keep it contained for the last few decades.

Severus couldn't help but think Albus was really losing it; his real nature was beginning to show through cracks in his otherwise perfect façade. He truly didn't do well when he couldn't see all outcomes, where not all his chess pieces were where he wanted them to be. A startled hiss left his lips as his mark heated up; it wasn't a full meeting, he was being requested specifically. It hurt worse when everyone was called, due to the fact it took more power to call them all and the Dark Lord couldn't prevent it from doing so. He doubted he actually cared; this was nothing compared to the Cruciatus curse he delivered if you failed him.

"Go," Albus said, his eyes wide; was this it? Would he learn that Voldemort had Harry now? "Return as soon as you are able." He had to know; he wouldn't stand for being in the dark a second longer than necessary.

Severus stood up with a grimace, not even bothering to reply to the old fool's words. It wasn't as if he could just interrupt the Dark Lord and ask to leave. What did Dumbledore think he was? A newbie at being a spy? At working for the Dark Lord? He didn't think so. No, Dumbledore could sweat for all he cared, he'd rather live to see his next birthday… which was, ironically, in four months' time, less than that if you went by the dates since it was very early January, the ninth to be exact.

The mark didn't burn continuously until you went to him when he only required your presence alone. He still didn't dawdle, though, he had no idea what kind of mood the Dark Lord was in, and so far he had been… different, a lot different than what he remembered, even in the beginning before the prophecy. Nott senior had said it was like having 'his old friend' back. He was unsure if he meant in looks or temperament, but it had caused excitement within the ranks, hope rekindled.

Ten minutes later he was out of the school and beyond the wards; he looked around ensuring that he was unobserved, flicking a ward up just to be sure. Then he pulled up his sleeve and pressed a finger on the Dark Mark, pushing his magic into it, and the immediate sensation of side-long Apparation caught him. The scenery in Scotland disappeared and he reappeared outside the Dark Lord's hideout.

The wards tingled as he bypassed them. Right now the Dark Lord would know he was here, before he even stepped foot in the manor. He had yet to see Harry, despite the fact he had been here a few times already, mostly on his own, although sometimes with Lucius. As always Malfoy was up to something and not in a sharing mood.

"My Lord," Severus said nodding respectfully as he entered the hall used for meeting purposes and of course eating.

"Severus," Voldemort said, "I have a task for you, if you're up for it. Sit." He wondered what Severus would make of the potions Harry had made as he gestured to the seat opposite him, so he could keep an eye on the wizard.

"Of course, My Lord," Severus said, taking a seat as instructed. Anything that kept him away from Dumbledore… the longer the better. He honestly couldn't stand the sight of the old fool, and he was keeping an annoyingly close eye on him lately. Wanting to know everything that happened and if he'd found anything out. Merlin, he hated the way his eyes brightened up every time the mark hurt. So yes, he wanted to be away as long as possible, make him sweat.

"But first, what do you think of these potion recipes?" Voldemort asked, handing over the parchment. He had an eidetic memory, and he had merely written down three of the more impressive ones. Not that they weren't all impressive, and he was dying to try out some of the spells himself. Everyone thought he was bloodthirsty; well, they'd obviously not met the real Harry Potter locked up in the golden boy yet.

Severus took the parchment completely baffled, which was occurring more and more often these days. While he was glad for the change, it was just so weird seeing it occurring. He began to read, as the Dark Lord sat languidly in the chair, waiting for his opinion.

"Do you wish for me to brew these?" Severus questioned, not surprised that the Dark Lord could create something like these; he was a genius even at Potions.

"I asked your opinion," Voldemort corrected him, his tone deceptively soft.

Severus blinked; he felt as though he was being tricked and so as always he fell back on his instincts ― he trusted them. "They're perfect, ingenious really," Severus admitted, waiting for the other shoe to drop, or rather himself under the Cruciatus curse; he was tense waiting for it, yet it did not happen.

"And if I told you a student at Hogwarts had created them… what would you say?" Voldemort smirked, oh he enjoyed getting a rise out of his followers, and he always had done. Maybe not in this way, but he was beginning to like it nonetheless.

Severus snorted before he could help himself, "I would find it very difficult to believe, My Lord, no student there has shown this capacity for Potions."

Voldemort narrowed his eyes, "These recipes are from a fourteen-year-old boy." His anger leaking out at the way Severus had spoken to him. But if he wanted him brewing potions today, then he couldn't curse him. Regretfully, brewing required a steady hand, otherwise there would be nothing saving him from cursing the wizard for his doubt of his character.

Severus' eyes widened, understanding Voldemort's omission. He couldn't mean… could he? "Potter?" he muttered incredulously, this he didn't believe.

"Indeed," Voldemort stated, "Everything you thought you knew about the boy… he wanted you to see. He has created more spells than you did in your youth, ones that make your Sectumsempra pale by comparison. All this time we thought he was a golden boy, following Dumbledore around like a lost puppy. We were so wrong, it's entirely laudable." His red eyes were gleaming wickedly as he spoke, enjoying each reaction Severus had to his news. "You and I, as well as everyone that has come into contact with that boy have been duped."

Severus bit down the urge to ask the Dark Lord if he was sure, and it certainly wasn't a joke― he wasn't known for them. He couldn't be mistaken, the boy had no occlumency shields, and he knew that much for sure since he knew when the boy was lying, albeit only when he actually looked him in the eye. Which wasn't too often, due to the fact he hadn't treated him well, despite the fact he was sworn to protect him. "I… do not know what to say, My Lord," Severus confessed; he wasn't sure about anything anymore. Did that mean Harry wanted to be here? If he was dark, then this was the side for him… and nothing Dumbledore did could change that. "The prophecy?" he ventured cautiously.

"I must confess I acted rashly," Voldemort admitted, finding it distasteful. "It is no longer applicable. I have deciphered it, and I believe Dumbledore has incorrectly interpreted it to suit his needs."

"You have it?" Severus didn't dare look up, "I was under the impression that it was being guarded… My Lord,"

"And it is. No one will ever be any the wiser; Dumbledore is not to know. Now tell me what is going on with the Order?" Voldemort asked, changing the subject completely.

"They're stretched thin looking for Potter, although there's always one spared to guard the prophecy in the Department of Mysteries; all other plans are on hold. I believe the old fool is losing it, the longer Potter is out of his control. He all but instructed me to brew an outlawed locating potion that he hasn't tried yet; I told him you needed hair or other fluids no more than a week old… something he doesn't have," Severus told him, his black eyes flashing in fury at the old man's duplicity.

"I didn't think otherwise," Voldemort sneered, warming up to the idea of destroying Dumbledore completely. Murder was too good, he wanted everyone to see the pretence that was their leader of the light. Perhaps Potter might have a few other good ideas up his sleeves. "Harry would like to learn to make his potions; you will tutor him… and fairly, Severus… as you would your own godson. His magic is as dark as our own; he is family. Do not disappoint me."

Harry? thought Severus his eyes widening slightly before he regained control, struck dumb by what he had just heard. He never called anyone by their first names, at least nobody new; only the inner circle got called by their first names and that wasn't all the time either… usually the last name when he was very displeased. First name when he was moderately happy when his plans were all going accordingly. "I won't, My Lord," Severus promised, successfully managing to get the words out.

"Good. He will be down momentarily," Voldemort said dismissing him.

Severus stood up and nodded once, laying the parchment on the table before leaving. Yep, the world was spinning out of control. Yet why did he feel a sense of elation and excitement coursing through him? There was one thing he did know: he couldn't wait to see for himself.

Severus Snape waited anxiously in the Dark Lord's potions lab, not sure whether he dreaded seeing Potter or excited at the prospect seeing the boy who had Dumbledore hoodwinked. Merlin, it made him want to chuckle in disbelief: Dumbledore duped by his very own golden boy for four years. There was no doubt it was true, the Dark Lord wouldn't have made such a glaring error. No, he would have gotten this from the boy's own mind, Severus thought as he paced restlessly. His face was impassive as he waited; nothing other than his strides gave his agitation away. The Dark Lord had called him Harry! The turn of the tide was currently upon him… no, them, the dark sect. To call the boy Harry? He would like to have seen them interact, to see how the Dark Lord reacted; he was not positive but if Potter did join, he would be placed at the highest standing. There would be no other place for him. If he joined, he would be giving the Dark Lord the war; without Potter on the light side they would lose. So yes, the only place conceivable was at his right hand.

His excellent hearing picked up the sound of footsteps; straightening up, he stiffened his spine and waited for the boy to appear. There was nothing on the workbench beside him yet, since he hadn't currently been brewing. There was so much he wanted to know, but if Potter was as good as he was believed to be, the chances of getting anything out of him were slim to nothing.

Then the boy stepped in, opening the door further to allow himself access. He was still the same boy Snape remembered from the leaving feast, minus the large round glasses that made him look like his father; without those glasses he saw straight into Potter's eyes, so very much like Lily's. He belatedly realized who had received the potion the Dark Lord had requested him to make. He had thoroughly enjoyed making it; the challenge of brewing such an intricate, exacting potion always was exhilarating. He realized there wasn't an ounce of emotion on the boy's face; was this one a mask? he couldn't help but ponder. He wasn't sure how to approach this boy, who was a Slytherin with a Gryffindor veneer. He had a book in his hand, and Severus wondered if it was where the Dark Lord had obtained the potion recipes from.

"Mr. Potter," Severus finally settled for, his black eyes gazing shrewdly.

"Sir," Harry replied, nodding curtly.

Severus arched an eyebrow, feeling distinctively put out for reasons he didn't quite understand himself. "Since I am not your professor at the moment, you may call me Severus," he told the teenager, extended an olive branch, a truce of sorts… and if Potter was a Slytherin as he suspected, he would understand that.

Harry smirked, giving a short nod, before stepping into the room properly and moving to stand across from Severus with only the workbench in the way. "If you can set aside your feelings for my dead father, whom I don't know, then you may call me Harry." He had no difficulty understanding what Snape was attempting and deciding to go with the flow for now; he would rather brew a potion without Snape breathing down his neck. Plus he would actually like to learn from him; regardless of his character, he was the youngest Potions Master in Britain as well as the best. Voldemort wouldn't have anything less than the best, he'd surmised. Harry knew he was good at theory, but when it came to actually brewing potions, he had no idea how good he was.

"Indeed," Severus replied in answer, "Very well. I am told you've created a few potions of your own, how would you like to see your creations turned into something more?" He crossed his arms over his chest as he gazed pensively at Harry. Evidently the boy was much better at Potions than he knew, but how much better remained to be seen.

A challenge? Harry thought; the question remained, should he trust him though? He didn't have much to lose either way… or did he? "I need your blood― I'm going to key you into the wards on my book so you can read it; otherwise I'll just copy them… your choice?" Harry stated, shrugging his shoulders. He had no doubt Voldemort had shown him some of his potion recipes; otherwise Snape wouldn't be this calm about him being in his precious potions lab. At least he didn't think so; he could be wrong, but the response Snape gave would probably give him his answer. If he said yes, then he knew for sure; if it was a no, then perhaps Voldemort had just ordered Snape to teach him.

Severus paused briefly, thinking on the recipes he had seen that the Dark Lord had written down. There was little doubt Potter had an astonishing grasp on theoretical potions… he very well could be a prodigy in the making. With firm guidance he may even be quite the potions brewer, and who was he to turn such a thing down? He was a Slytherin after all. "Very well," Severus gave his answer. Opening the drawer he removed a scalpel and absently sterilised it Wandlessly and Non-verbally. As Harry placed the book on the table top, he sliced his palm and placed it on top of the book; he could feel the tingling immediately afterwards. He withheld the gasp of astonishment at the feel of Potter's magic; it was strong and powerful, more so than he had ever detected on the boy. His magic at this point in time was neutral, presumably due to the fact he hadn't actually been able to cast any dark magic.

Then Potter began to hiss in Parseltongue; the magic he could feel at that point turned dark. He was able to conceal his magical affinity? How long had he been able to do that? He truly had covered all angles when it came to this enormous 'Gryffindor, golden boy, light wizard' disguise. Then again, he had no idea how Parseltongue actually worked; perhaps speaking the spell had made the magic being used right then lean towards the dark and his actual magic was still neutral? As far as he understood it, Parselmagic was something else entirely. He was rather envious of it really, all Slytherins and dark wizards were.

"I'm impressed," Severus stated wryly, watching him flip through the book containing spells which the Dark Lord told him made his 'Sectumsempra' look mild in comparison. That spell was a favourite of his, unfortunately he'd had to quit using it due to the fact Dumbledore knew the spell was his. To use it again he would need to imply someone else was using it, then bemoan at the fact it was his fault. It would need to be one of his old classmates, or someone who had known him at school when he'd invented that particular spell. It was something to figure out later; right now he was laying low, there would be no battles as of yet.

"This one," Harry said, holding the pages apart. He wanted to use it himself, on himself.

"Very well, gather the ingredients, two sets," Severus answered, pointing towards the cupboard where the potion ingredients were stored. "Everything you need is there," he added, his eyes roaming over the list of ingredients before nodding in affirmative that his thoughts had been correct. The potion Harry had created was almost like an advanced nutrition potion, but it didn't just give you the nutrients you'd missed out on, it smoothed over the damage, makes it like you'd never missed out on them and helped you bulk up both in height and weight.

Harry wandered through his eyes widening at the impressiveness of it. It was double… no, triple the size of Hogwarts' potions cupboard. With ingredients you sure as hell wouldn't find at the school, he thought as his gaze caught some of the names as he passed them. It was quite the impressive layout, labelled alphabetically by potion ingredient and herbs, both on different sides. Then there were the ones at the bottom in complete darkness… thankfully he was used to the layout; obviously Snape had either done it here first, or had it rearranged when he was called back into the fold. Grabbing a tray he began to put the ingredients he needed in, doubling the amounts as he had been told. He couldn't believe he was actually with Snape ― going to brew a potion! He was excited! Who wouldn't be? He had created this potion and had been dying to brew it for so long. By the time he had all the ingredients they were tipping precariously on the tray. He carefully made his way through, he should really be making two trips, if the ingredients fell, it would be a potential catastrophe.

Evidently Snape agreed with him, because the vials began to float onto the table, two at a time. The look on his face spoke volumes, but he wasn't saying anything and wasn't that just weird? Why would he hold his tongue? It went against everything Harry thought he knew about the Potions Master.

"Next time do not take foolish risks," Severus berated, unable to curb his tongue seeing the look on Potter's face; he was just waiting for it and wondering why it wasn't happening. "Some of those ingredients are extremely volatile."

"I know," Harry said, "It won't happen again," he conceded knowing it had been foolish in the first place.

Severus stared, was the boy deliberately trying to wind him up? By acting so… out of character? He had all but apologised! Harry was either trying to see how far he could push him before he snapped back, or he actually wanted to brew enough to keep his head down and do as he was told. To be quite frank he wasn't sure which one comforted him the most. Perhaps he just wasn't easy to wind up as he had believed over the course of Harry's education. "Begin the preparation stage," Severus directed; there was no way the boy felt anything but loathing for him surely? Masks or not, he had made Harry's potion classes harder than they needed to be.

Severus moved and began to prepare the ingredients, deviating quite a few times despite the instructions saying otherwise. Wisely Harry made no comment, but Severus could see he was extremely curious by his actions. One glare for him had Harry concentrating on his own ingredients.

Harry itched to write down the changes Snape was making to his set of ingredients. He would just have to try and remember everything and write down the readjustments, although that might not be the wisest course of action; he could end up getting them wrong and things would go boom.

They worked in silence, pouring the requested amount of water into the cauldron and allowing it to heat before the first stage began. This particular potion required an hour non-stop brewing cycle, and then it had to be left to cool for thirty minutes before adding the Hemp.

"I know how the Dursleys treat you, Potter," Severus informed the boy, as soon as the first cycle ended. Almost at once, the boy closed up; there was absolutely no emotion, positive or otherwise, there to see. "Did you ever inform anyone?" He already suspected (knew really) the answer to his question but wanted to be sure.

"Why do I get the feeling you already know?" Harry couldn't help but spit out, seething inwardly.

"I want confirmation," Severus stated, confirming Harry's thoughts… or not denying them at any rate.

"I've lost count of the people I've told," Harry snorted bitterly. Why was he even discussing this with Snape? The man hated his guts! Yet he had sort of suspected the wizard was like him, wore masks… which nobody got to see the real wizard beneath. Still, that hatred hadn't been faked… but he had been nothing but respectful since he stepped through that door just little over an hour ago. Then he realized he'd answered his own question; Snape knew about the abuse. It made his lip curl that Snape of all people pitted him. "I don't need or want your pity!" he added sharply, cutting the hemp a little harder than he should.

"Good, because you shan't get it," Severus sneered.

Harry smirked, actually rather pleased to see some of his old Potions Master shining through.

"Who?" Severus hissed, getting back to the subject at hand, not allowing Harry to change the subject on him, which skill he must have mastered fully by this point, if he had gone as long as he had without anyone suspecting anything off about him.

"What does it matter?" Harry asked, eyeing Snape suspiciously. He seemed awfully concerned; he was acting as if he had to know who he had told… but why? For what purpose could it serve? Unless there was something he didn't know, which wouldn't surprise him in the least. Still, the only ones he wanted revenge on were down in the dungeons, which he still hadn't found yet… but he'd made it his life's mission to find it.

"Tell me," Severus demanded, without his usual bite but no less firm.

"No," Harry answered, "Not until you tell me why you want to know. You hate me, don't pretend you don't, really; that is just pathetic. Therefore this conversation makes no logical sense whatsoever." And Harry didn't like when things made no sense.

"I used to hate you, Potter," Severus sighed, "Not anymore.

"So it is pity!" Harry snapped, green eyes glaring defiantly at Snape.

Severus pinched the bridge of his nose, "No, Potter, it is not," he told him honestly.

"So, why the hell do you want to know?" Harry blurted out, his eyes never wavering from Snape.

"I swore a Vow to protect you, Potter, and I failed," Severus hissed out in his frustration.

Harry stared his mouth agape, wondering if he had somehow stumbled into an alternative reality. Why on earth would Snape swear a Vow to protect him? He was actually angry that he had failed in the Vow? You would think he would be all too happy about figuring out a way around it. Then he began to realize a few other things, "You Vowed to protect me, and it went against everything you are. You're a dark wizard aren't you? You don't spy for Dumbledore; you're really on Voldemort's side. It didn't help that I was the son to a man you hated, but why swear a Vow in the first place? Was Dumbledore testing your allegiance?" it sort of made sense that Dumbledore would make sure there were plenty of people to ensure that 'the-Boy-Who-Lived' survived. He had been forced to serve the light side because of him, thus betraying all which he held dear.

"Do you want the truth, Potter?" Severus asked pensively, perhaps the boy did understand and would be able to understand everything else.

"Do I?" Harry asked in turn.

"Who knows?" Severus murmured, how would Potter take the knowledge that his disgusting Potions Master loved his mother? A ding alerted them to the fact it was time to start brewing the second cycle. Automatically he moved towards the Hemp and added it, stirring twenty times anticlockwise, then added the Bistort when required.

There were only two cycles for this particular potion, second one not as long as the first, half an hour then the potion would be left to cool down. Adding the crushed Marjoram, he stirred it, surprised by the fact Potter wasn't demanding answers left, right, and centre. He was quickly realising he would take a while, despite knowing, for it to sink in that Harry wasn't who he'd thought he was. "I notice you haven't named it," Severus said once he had stirred it for the last time. Removing the stirring rod, he immediately wandered over to the sink and cleansed it properly and sterilized it. He opened the drawer after he had wandered back and placed it in its position.

"No, I've not," Harry answered slightly bemused, not expecting the comment; he had assumed they would start talking about their paused conversation. Maybe Snape had changed his mind; he hoped not, he actually did want to know. Bringing it up made that too obvious so he remained silent on the subject, cleaning up now that his potion was done.

Shaking his head in bemusement, he saw that the potions were noticeably two different shades of purple; he was under no illusions whose would be the best. He stared at the cauldron, he had actually brewed it. For the past two years he'd constantly thought of brewing them himself, ordering the ingredients over owl order. Unfortunately he hadn't wanted to risk it; he was watched too closely, on all sides. Even if he did it during the night, he wasn't about to risk Snape having some sort of ward on the potion cupboards and labs.

"You wanted to know why I swore to protect you?" Severus started, deciding to be honest with him, a way of apologising for his actions over the years.

"I guess," Harry said, plopping himself on the stool, in a casual display of nonchalance, but the look on Snape's face made him realize he wasn't fooling anyone, let alone him. Was he losing his ability to act or was it just because Snape's eyes had been opened to the real him?

"What do you know of your mother's side of the family?" Severus enquired noticing Harry going completely bewildered at his question for a mere second before his masks snapped into place. Oh, that was very well done; he suspected his parents were the only real way to get to the boy under the mask. He was vividly reminded of last summer, where the boy had blown up his cousin's aunt.

"Nothing, she never speaks of them," Harry said in distaste. "Well, once, when Hagrid came for me; apparently they were proud that she was a witch, to have one in the family. Other than that she liked to pretend they didn't exist."

"That is true. Petunia was always jealous of Lily's ability. In fact she wanted to join her at Hogwarts, wrote to the headmaster begging to be allowed to go," Severus informed him, a sneer on his face just thinking about the wretched woman.

"How do you know that?" Harry didn't know whether to be shocked or in denial.

"I met your mother when we were young children, eight years old; we lived in Spinners End. It was I who told her she was a witch, and I who taught her everything I knew about the magical world in turn. We became the best of friends, and remained so even after we were sorted into different houses at Hogwarts. Unfortunately it all ended very badly; I called your mother by a foul name, after I had been humiliated by your father and his three friends during our fifth year. You see, she did not like my… affinity to dark magic. When the Dark Lord targeted your family I went to him and begged that he spare her; it was all for naught as she still died."

"He did try," Harry told him, albeit very grudgingly. "He told her to move aside a few times when he came that night… it never made sense to me," he admitted his brow furrowed. "He killed everyone that stood in his way, even my dad, yet decided that my mum was to move aside? It's nice to have a full picture." To actually understand.

Swallowing thickly, "Wh… how do you know that?" Severus managed to get out without making too much of a fool of himself.

"Dementors," Harry stated, after a few seconds of indecisiveness. Snape was smart; he'd probably figure it out himself anyway.

Severus merely nodded, he couldn't even begin to imagine how that had been for the boy last year if that was what he saw and heard. He hadn't acted all that differently either; he must be quite the accomplished actor and he was proud of him despite himself. The Dark Lord had kept his word; he had tried to save Lily, but he also knew she would never in a million years have stepped aside and let the Dark Lord hurt her child.

"Potter… why are you being honest with me?" Severus questioned, finally asking what had been on his mind.

"Why not?" Harry shrugged staring at him; it wasn't like he was getting out of here, so he had nothing to lose.

Severus narrowed his eyes, having gleaned his thoughts, what had the Dark Lord done? Reaching under the bench he picked up a crate of brand new vials and placed them on the worktop, and began to fill them with the potion, he would need to speak to his Lord and do something before this went pear shaped.

"My Lord," Severus said dipping his head as he waited at the door.

"Enter," Voldemort stated, turning to face the wizard after placing the book that had been in his hand on the table on top of the other books. He had research to do, and he was busy as it was, without constant interruptions… but Severus was an inner circle member; he brought back information that wouldn't be otherwise obtained.

"Permission to speak freely, My Lord?" Severus asked; he had to know why Potter had been thinking what he had.

"Very well but be quick," Voldemort replied his red eyes narrowed in contemplation. He couldn't deny he was curious about what his spy and Harry had been up to… other than brewing potions. He knew his spy well enough to know he wouldn't rest until he had answers.

"Potter cannot leave, how?" Severus questioned.

Voldemort smirked, "I tied an item to the wards and in turn placed it on Potter," and it worked like a charm.

"Do you not realise the risk in this?" Severus said, "The boy has the potential to come to you on his own; forcing him to remain will cause him to rebel. Let Dumbledore finish what you have started, and believe me, it isn't going to take much for him to come here on his own."

"It's a risk I cannot take," Voldemort denied vehemently.

"Why? The boy is hardly going to tell anyone that he spent the summer here. He's a consummate actor, and he will have everyone around him believing what he says. Trust me, my Lord, let him come to you on his own, it's the only way you will gain his true allegiance. Sooner or later he will find a way to remove what you have placed on him, and there won't be a second chance… his hatred for Dumbledore and those Muggles will make him see there is only one place for him," Severus argued. He didn't want to risk Potter going back to the old fool and actually staying on the light side. He had his chance to uphold his Vow and stay on the side he actually believed in. The Dark Lord had the Dursleys, so he wouldn't be forced to go back into an abusive home. To keep him here against his will… it wasn't a good idea.

"And if he does not come?" Voldemort replied with deceptive softness.

"He will," Severus answered assuredly, "Here his talents will flourish, he already sees this. They won't be accepted by the general population, and IF he didn't come, you would have nothing to fear, the boy obviously doesn't care about the war. Come to think of it, I don't think anyone has asked Potter what he wants, or about his beliefs. Each encounter he's had, he's only done what he had to in order to survive."

"I will think about it. Return to the old fool, say nothing of what has occurred," Voldemort reminded him.

"Yes, My Lord," Severus answered, bowing once more before he turned and swiftly made his way out past the edge of the wards in order to Apparate.

Levitating the books Voldemort swiftly made his way through the manor, holding his thoughts until he got to the safety of his office before making sure nobody could disturb him. He couldn't help but dwell on what Severus had said. There was some truth to it, and Potter did have the annoying ability to slip through the cracks with ease. The boy was as dark as they came; the light certainly would never understand him. But letting the boy go? Was it a risk he was prepared to take? Reverse psychology… there was no doubt the boy wanted to return to Hogwarts. If Harry was anything like him, he would consider Hogwarts home. Narrowing his eyes, his fingers trailing back and forth across his chin, he distractedly continued to think on what Severus had suggested.

R&R please.