777

"Willow!" Buffy squealed, delighted to see her as she walked onto the campus at lunchtime. A part of her was actually surprised to see her friend, though she knew she shouldn't be. This was Willow after all. Death was probably the only thing that would stop her from coming to school. Then again, this being the Hellmouth, Buffy wasn't so sure that even death would stop her. "How did you end up missing two days worth of classes without being sick?"

The redhead shrugged, "All I know is that Professor Lupin told me that I needed to be in their classes as often as I could be. They had cleared it with Snyder earlier this week. It was odd not being with you guys first thing. Did you get my homework?"

Buffy rolled her eyes, "You miss classes and all you can think about is homework?"

"What else is there to think about?"

"Will, we have got to get you a life. We really do," Buffy sighed, linking arms as they entered the library. "Giles, tell Willow that there's more to life than school and homework."

"What?" he asked, coming out of his office, a book in his hand. His finger held his in place as he looked at them curiously.

"You guys are completely hopeless," she sighed again. "What am I to do with you?"

"Sigh in exasperation but adore us anyway?" Willow asked teasingly.

"Willow, are you free on Saturday?" Giles asked, putting his book down to join them.

"As far as I know, why?" she sat down, resting her chin on her hand.

"Certain arrangements have been made between the school and your new teachers; you are to take all of your final exams as soon as possible. Professors Lupin and Snape believe that with the way things are going, you need to be a full time student of theirs. Principal Snyder has reluctantly agreed to allow this as he believes it will reflect well upon his reputation. I shall administer the tests, which means…"

"I've got to study!" Willow shrieked, jumping up. The chair clattered to the floor, unnoticed by them. "Saturday is two days from now and I've got almost no time to prepare for this. What if I get sick? What if I don't know the information? What if I fail? What if the school burns down? Or the world ends at Voldemort's hands?"

"Breathe, Will," Xander said. "What's going on?"

"Tests. Earlier tests. More schooling outside of school," Willow started again.

"Again with the stop and breathe thing, Will," Xander commented, picking up the downed chair so that he could sit down next to them, looking concerned. "There's no need to make yourself sick explaining things to me. So, someone who can talk and breathe at the same time want to tell me what's going on with the Willster?"

"Willow's taking the finals on Saturday. After that, she's going to be a full time student over at the mansion. Which reminds me, is Harry really Snape's nephew?" Buffy asked, looking between Willow and Giles. "Because he sounded pretty darned sure that he was last night."

"I doubt he would've said it if it wasn't true," Willow shrugged. "But no one's said anything to the rest of us about it. Ron and Hermione seemed a bit startled to hear it."

"Professor Snape told him?"

"You knew about this and didn't tell us?" Xander asked.

"It was not my secret to share. If it had been, I would have said something. I learned my lesson about keeping dangerous secrets already. It is not a lesson I would care to repeat any time soon." The afternoon bell range and they left Giles to figure out what the revelation meant to them in the long run.

654321

Willow sat in her chemistry class, trying to concentrate on the lesson but her thoughts kept swirling around. Why were the professors being so insistent upon this now? Why? Was there some thing she was not seeing when it came to the wizarding world? Or was it something more sinister, like that Voldemort guy and his delusional belief that she was Lily Potter come back from the grave.

She shivered, not liking that thought at all.

Xander nudged her gently, jolting her out of her thoughts. Looking at him, he jerked his head towards the teacher. She seemed to be getting ready to ask questions of the class. The board was now covered entirely in notes. Quickly, Willow nodded in thanks and wrote them as quickly as she could.

The bell rang at last and they packed their stuff up with a feeling of relief. "Willow, stay behind for a moment," her voice carried over the sound of the students moving. "I have some things for you to review for Saturday. I hope you appreciate the effort that has gone into this and will do your best."

"I do," Willow said, coming closer. "Thank you for offering me this opportunity."

Xander was waiting for her outside, "You okay?"

She shrugged, "Not really. I don't like being centered out like this. It's different than when I have to teach Ms. Calendar's class...do you think I'm still going to be doing that?"

"Did Giles say you wouldn't?" he asked, steering her around the milling bodies.

"No," she slowly replied, blushing. "I was babbling so much after he told me that it never crossed my mind to ask."

"Well, if Snape had anything to do with it, I would have to say you won't be teaching. My heart bleeds for Snyder, now he'll have to pay someone to do it instead of having you teach for free. Doesn't Snape want you to be completely focused on your tasks?"

"Is it true what they're saying?" Cordy suddenly demanded as she walked over. "You're going to test early?"

"Yeah-but I can't help any of you guys out. I've been told that my tests will be harder than what you guys get, and totally different. Synder thinks I'll be enabling you to cheat if the tests are the same."

"As if I would stoop that low," Cordy sniffed dismissively. "Hey! I was walking here." The warning bell sounded as they reached their lockers. Switching books, they made a dash for the last class of the day.

654321

Professor Snape left his class, deep in thought. Harry walked by his side, glaring at those who looked their way until their eyes dropped. Everything that he wanted to say, he'd said the night before to Lucius. Until he knew the whole story, he was not going to feed into any of the rumors floating around the mansion. And he knew full well that there were some rather outrageous tales being spread about him and his uncle.

But there was one thing he had to know. "Sir, how come Aunt Petunia never mentioned you whenever she talked about my mum's friends? She knew of Sirius and Remus."

His eyes slowly slid towards Harry, as though he was just now becoming aware of the presence at his side. Slowly, his mind registered the question, "Petunia Dursley does not know that I exist. If she ever thought about the one time we met, she would no longer be able to function as our one and only meeting was at a Death Eater revel."

"What?" he whispered, voice breaking under the strain of keeping it even. Though he did not particularly care for his relatives, he'd never wish any harm upon them-especially harm from the Death Eaters. This was no laughing matter. If Severus was right, then may be his aunt had more reason to be afraid of him and the rest of the wizarding world than he thought. Her reasons may not stem from jealously, but true fear.

Snape's lips curled disdainfully, "Up until a certain point, your aunt was more tolerant of your mother and her outlandish quirks. Make no mistake, she had quite a few of them. But the more Lily learned of magic and her powers, the less Petunia tolerated her. When your parents disappeared, Voldemort believed that your aunt would know where they had gone off to. At the time, it never occurred to him that they might be living in secret. Pettigrew, for whatever reason, had decided to keep this knowledge to himself. Your Aunt Petunia is a weak minded fool and did not hold up under interrogation-he did not even have to torture her for what he wanted. I did not know about this until Lily called me, asking if I would check up on her. Your mother was concerned and loved her sister until the very end. Had I known that he would be fool enough to go after Petunia, I would have warned the Headmaster. As it was, my cover was nearly broken when I rescued her. Luckily, her guards were Crabbe and Goyle. They are highly superstitious and easy to startle with cheap illusions."

"Why didn't you just call the aurors?"

"She could've been used as a shield-Malfoy would not have hesitated to do so. Or she could've been killed. Aurors, like Death Eaters, are notoriously spell happy," he sneered derisively, "Almost sloppily so. They use their wands at the slightest of provocations."

"You don't seem to place much faith in them," Harry observed.

"I have little faith in people who choose to look at circumstantial evidence and take it to be truth. You would do wise to start looking beyond what your eyes see and use all of your faculties to determine what is truth and what is a lie. Not everything is what it seems to be at first glance or even a second one," he could not help teaching him. "Though I am highly disdainful of Voldemort as he is now, he still possesses the knowledge from before. He studied everything he came across from every angle he could. That is what makes him so formidable, so threatening even now. He knows what he's doing to the nth degree. Yet, there are gaps in his knowledge, things that he simply does not know or understand. Things that you know instinctively through your experiences-like pure love."

Harry snorted, "I only know what people have told me. I do not remember love."

"You speak of the Dursley's," he said, sneering at the name. It was more than obvious that his dislike of the family had nothing to do with their muggle status and everything to do with the way they treated Harry. "I do not. But tell me of your childhood."

"They hardly wasted any time spoiling me, sir. All of that attention when to the more deserving Dudley," he spoke bitterly. "I never had a real room until my Hogwarts letter arrived, letting them know that they knew that I slept in the cupboard under the stairs. I never had a real Christmas until I came to Hogwarts."

His lips compressed tightly, "I'm beginning to regret saving that waste of air that you must refer to as your aunt. But then, death is much too good for one such as her. As for not remembering lover, that does not matter. You were born of love and honesty. Love is in your very marrow, it is a part of your heart and soul. Voldemort was born of deceived love, something that is inside of him. As a result, it is all he can ever truly know and understand. We are different than other beings, Harry, because of our magic. Love-or hate's-existence in the very moment of conception is woven into the very magical heart of every being, even squibs. There are a few exceptions to the rule of course, the Slayers and Miss. Rosenberg, are prime examples of this. But by and large, we are what is in the hearts' of our progenitors when they are together in that most intimate of expressions.

"If there is love and trust, honesty and devotion there, when all defenses are down and every vulnerability is exposed and a child is created, that child will have light and love woven into its very essence. If hate or deception, fear or anger, is present at that time, the child conceived of such a union will rarely-if ever-understand the power of love and goodness because it will not be a part of its soul. They will see it as a weakness, something to twist and destroy. In the end, while our decisions truly are what makes us who we are, what has gone into the very heart of us also has a strong hand in it. Do you understand what I am saying?"

"You called me Harry," he softly said, awed. He flushed, aware from the way Severus was looking at him that his name was not the point. Still, it was a thrill to hear it, "Sorry. I think I understand what you're saying. Is that why you believe that you have no hope?"

"Though is do not see that it is any business of yours, no, that is not why. My parents married out of necessity, there was neither love nor hate between them. They tolerated each other at best, ignored each other at worst. Both had something to gain from this union. My father was a muggle born of some considerable wealth. There was a clause in his father's will that he could not touch any of it unless he was married. Having been raised in extreme comfort, you can imagine that he was not prepared to give it up. He was given a year to find and marry someone or the fortune would go to charity.

"As for my mother, she did not wish to remain at home as she knew would be expected of her after she graduated from Hogwarts. My grandfather was a traditional pureblood wizard who took things to the extreme. She was not allowed to go to school until Headmaster Dippet assured him that she would be kept away from the students and any ideas that may mislead her away from the path grandfather wished her to travel. The man made unwarranted concessions for grandfather, did things that my mother believes almost completely destroyed her abilities to be a witch of the highest caliber. The only way out was marriage. I was just a by product of a marriage of convenience. Being a convenience for someone does little to balance one's soul and magic, my magic is not whole. I am not a whole being. I am beyond light and dark, born to be eternally grey."

"But you're not!" Harry protested. "Magic can be made whole, a person does not have to stay in the same place. We change, our actions change us. You're like Willow, an exception to the rule-and you love me. Deny it if you have to, but you do-I can feel it, watching over me and protecting me. It has been there all my life. And I love you. I might not particularly like you but I have learned to love you."

Snape was gob smacked. He was honestly gob smacked-this was almost the exact same conversation he had with Lily, minus the left hook and hug. Shaking his head, he regained his composure and cleared his throat, "You become more like your mother with every day that passes."

"Yeah, about that-how can you be my uncle? Especially since Petunia doesn't know about you? It doesn't make sense."

His eyes closed and he pinched the bridge of his nose. A knock on the door interrupted his thoughts as he was trying to gather them, something he found irritating. But a part of him was relieved. This was not the kind of conversation he wished to pursue in the hall where anyone could hear them, though he knew that he couldn't put it off for much longer. Letting out a long sigh at last, he came to a conclusion-the only one really. Opening his eyes, he looked straight at Harry, "That is a long story better given in the privacy of my lab."

"Professor Snape?" Blaise said, tentatively interrupting them. She really didn't want to interrupt them but the visitor was making her uncomfortable. There was something about him that just itched at her Slytherin nerves, telling her that this man was not quite right.

"What?" his voice coldly echoed down the hall to where his student was. He knew that Harry would not relent, would press him for more information, but he also knew that he would never again be so open, so free with his time and words. Nephew or not, this was an invasion of his privacy-one that even Headmaster Dumbledore knew nothing about. He would not be at all surprised if James Potter himself was in the dark about his wife's family.

"There's a man to see you," she finally said. "I think his name is Allan Finch."

Harry and Severus both stared at her, shock plainly written on Harry's face. "The Mayor's man? What does he want with you?"

"I don't know. It's too early for Voldemort to know about Lucius' defection, if he listened to your warnings at all. Tell him I will meet him in the parlor in a few minutes," Severus went on, forestalling Harry's words quickly. "We'll talk about this later, Harry, I promise."

Harry snort, but refrained from saying anything else. For the first time, he was going to trust what Severus said. "Do you think Malfoy listened? Because I meant what I said. If he stands against us, I will kill him. He may be your friend, but he chose the wrong side."

"And you no longer believe that I will choose to stand against you come the final battle?" he asked, his eyebrow raised in query.

"I can't say that I totally believe that you are on our side-I would like to believe that I am no fool," he slightly smiled. "But I would also like to think that I've grown up just a bit. I don't think you'll switch sides on us, that is not your way. If you did the easy thing, you would not be in the position you are in now."

"Like I said before," he replied, not curbing his hand as it gently rested on Harry's shoulder, giving it a squeeze. "You are growing up like your mother. She would be so proud of the young man you are becoming, Harry."

"Thanks," he said, even as he watched the mask slowly descend over his uncle's face, resolving to destroy the damn thing if it was the last thing he ever did. He refused to be shut out again. "Are you going to be okay?"

"I shall be fine but I shall remain as wary as ever," he replied, removing his hand.

"Would it be all right if Hermione, Ron, and I went to Sunnydale High to see Giles? There's a few things I want to ask him about that reference he found."

He frowned, but could think of no real reason to refuse the request. Harry was not asking to go alone and had come far, Severus knew the boy never left his wand behind. "Take Black with you-and ask him to tell you about our visit from Pettigrew. There are some things that we learned from him that would be in your best interests to know. Do not forget your wand and make sure your friends take theirs."

"Thanks," he said again, watching Severus walk into the parlor. At the back of his mind, he wondered if Black would tell him anything. Even though his uncle told him to, one could never tell what his godfather would decide to do. While he agreed that Harry should know what everyone else did, his protective instincts kicked in at the weirdest times.

Severus paused at the open door, staring at the rather normal looking man with detached curiosity. The man's shoulders twitched, sensing him there, and he wrung him hands, revealing his unease at the position he found himself in. The professor wondered just why the man was there. It was obvious that he didn't want to be there. That he, in fact, was not happy nor did he trust any of them.

"Sorry to have kept you waiting but when you arrive unannounced at what happens to be a fully functioning schooling area, you will have to wait until we are able to assist you. Having said that, I must ask what you are doing here? I do not believe that we have violated the agreement we made before we arrived." He paused, a sneer crossing his face as the man visibly started out of his skin, totally ill at ease with him, "And do not waste my time by trying to lie to me. Not only will you be unconvincing, I do not wish to play the part of fool for your amusement."

"Mayor Wilkins wants to see you," he stammered, sounding to much like Pettigrew had earlier for Severus' comfort.

"And you could not have called to leave this message?" his question came as he crossed his arms across his chest, fixing him with a stare. "You do know about a handy little invention made by your Alexander Graham Bell called the telephone, right? I do believe we left our number with you."

Flushing, he looked down at his hands, as though they held the answers he wanted. "He wanted me to make sure that you actually received the message in good time-especially since he wishes to see you at the earliest opportunity."

"Well, then, we shouldn't keep him waiting any longer, should we?" he silkily asked, "After you, Mr. Finch."

Mayor Wilkins looked up as they entered and his blood froze in his veins-absolutely froze at the sight of Severus Snape. Over the course of his long life, he'd dealt with wizards and witches of all types-as well as other beings of great power. None of them had ever exuded so much raw power and authority, mixed in with sheer audacious ability before.

After dealing with Lucius Malfoy, he thought he knew what to expect.

He was wrong. Malfoy was a boy, a child, compared to this man-for a man he was. There was no innocence, no charm about Severus Snape that lulled anyone into thinking that he was harmless. The man wore his power as easily as he wore his robes.

Pictures and videos did not capture his raw, jaded authority at all. In every aspect, this was a man of power who controlled it as easily as he breathed.

"I take it you have an actual reason for wanting me to be here other than to gape at me like an immature, unwashed schoolboy caught our after hours," Severus' voice poured into the room, smooth and easy.

Recalled to himself by the sound, he nodded. "Allan, leave us for now. There are matters that need your attention." His orders allowed for no disagreement and Allan was only all to willing to comply. The door closed behind him with a final sounding snap to it. "Would you care to have a seat, Professor Snape?"

An elegant eyebrow rose at the near order. Clearly, this was not to be merely a social call relating to how they were doing. Folding his hands in his lap, he waited for Mayor Wilkins to begin, making no sound of objection.

"I see that there is no point in pretending to a civil conversation then, is there?" he asked, continuing to speak, knowing that the professor would know it for the rhetoric it was. "What is the true status of Voldemort's followers? Of his claims to power beyond anything that I have ever known? Of his ability to grant me my dream? None of this will go anywhere beyond this office, Professor Snape, but I wish to know the truth about the man that I am dealing with."

"And you think I will tell you?" he idly asked, leaning back slightly. His black eyes never left the Mayor's face, giving the man the odd impression that Snape was reading his mind and soul-finding neither to be worth pursuit of any kind.

"I don't believe that you would outright lie," he finally answered after swallowing back his rising fear. Even if Snape was trying to read his mind, he would not be able to. Mayor Wilkins had spent years perfecting his mental shields-almost a century to be exact. He did not make mistakes, nor had he ever faltered before. "It doesn't seem to be the kind of thing a man like you would do. Omit the truth or obfuscate the details, perhaps-but you would never outright lie to someone."

Snape was slightly impressed by the man's observations but worried that they had been under that much scrutiny. They'd been watched so closely the Mayor could speak with some authority about Snape's own character. His face was impassive. "I see," there was no betraying quiver in his voice. "What you ask of me has no easy answer. Voldemort has a high amount of followers, each with their own strengths and weaknesses. Bellatrix Lestrange is one whose fanatical devotion to him alone makes her a powerful threat. But she is also a strong witch with deep convictions and madness. On the other hand, Goyle only has brute strength and blunt spells to offer. In a quick fight, both are of use. But prolonged attempts to use them leads to fallout and burn up. To determine his followers' strength based on the followers themselves is a chancy thing. He has, as I have said, many but there is also a contingent who are not willing to be there, they were forced into his service. They will be the only confused ones there."

Severus paused, noting the thoughtful expression on Wilkins' face. "As for Voldemort…he is undeniably powerful. Do not make any assumptions based on his wandering mind, he is still far more powerful than the ordinary wizard. Part of that is his own, the rest comes from feeding off of his followers and from the magic he used to stay among the living. He bridges both life and death. As a result, he is a tricky man to defy."

"Yet, there are those who do-you included," he mildly pointed out, pondering Severus' words.

"They have a power stronger than his for they have something that he lacks, something that I value very much. Be very sure that if you are going to turn your back on him, you know where to stand. He does not take kindly to betrayal."

"I am not afraid of death."

"That's nice to know-but he won't kill you. Dead, you are beyond his reach. There would be no lesson learned about the price one pays to betray him. No," he shook his head, "Death would be the kindest thing he would offer one who betrayed him."

The Mayor shivered, his mind having no trouble coming up with any number of scenarios where he'd be harmed. If Voldemort ever found his true name, he would be unable to turn away. Like vampires, there was truth to the saying that to speak a demon's true name bound that demon to one. Knowing his name would give Voldemort unlimited power over him. He could see from Snape's face-what little he revealed there-that the other man knew what he had realized. "Are you not afraid that I will betray you to Voldemort?"

"No," he blandly studied his hands before looking up again, "Because you are no fool. Even if you bought yourself some safety, some time from him, you would gain no such mercy from my Slytherins or from Harry for any harm that befell me."

"Is that a threat?" the question was reflexive and incredulous.

A sneer crossed Snape's face, "I waste no time making threats, Wilkins. I only state the truth-but then, you already knew that." Rising to his feet, he smoothed down his coat, hating that he couldn't wear his robes around the town. Every time he left the mansion, he always felt as though he was terribly exposed. "This has been a most enlightening conversation but I have students to see and you have a city to run. I trust that when next we meet, the circumstances will be more fortuitous than a discussion of treason."

654321

Harry, Hermione, and Ron waited for Sirius while he informed Albus about Severus' meeting with the Mayor. "All right, let's go." Grabbing a coat from the rack, he followed after them, stopping to lock the door behind them. "We can't take any chances with only one fully trained wizard left in the house. The lock will buy them a few moments at least. And we must be back before nightfall. I am not as confident as Severus is in protecting you three from the nightlife-especially with Voldemort on the loose. The last thing I need is to be identified before Albus finishes clearing my name."

"Speaking of that, Professor Snape said I was to ask you to tell us about what happened in your meeting with Peter. He said that there were a few things that I ought to know," Harry began tentatively. It wasn't that he was nervous of his godfather's reaction to Peter, more that he worried about how he'd react to Severus' semi-orders.

"He did, did he?" he flatly asked, making a mental note to talk to Severus later about infringing upon Sirius' attempts at parenting Harry. He had every right to enjoy this time away from the school, to be a child. Then a sigh escaped, Harry had never been a child. He was not allowed to be a child because Voldemort had chosen him.

If they had only listened to the warnings that had proceeded Voldemort's coming, this burden would not have been put upon Harry's shoulders.

James and Lily's son still deserved better than this.

"Let's wait until we get to the school-this concerns Willow," he finally said.

Harry groaned, "Not that whole she's my mother nonsense again." As much as they enjoyed giggling and making a joke of it, the both of them realized just how terrible his obsession with this idea was. And, unlike Severus who was protected from Voldemort's full possession of him by the life debt he owed to James Potter, Willow was not so lucky.

"I'm very afraid that it is-and goes far deeper than that. Far deeper," he sighed, rubbing his neck tiredly. Just thinking about the convoluted tale Pettigrew had unwillingly told them made him sick.

Hermione gasped, "He thinks that she's got some way of not overcoming death, but coming back much stronger and younger. He's going to…Oh, I'm going to be sick."

Ron quickly grabbed hold of her at the waist and led her off to the side. While they were away, Harry looked at Sirius, "What is she talking about?"

"Let's just get to the school," Sirius said, looking about nervously. Something felt dangerously wrong somewhere, "I'm not trying to avoid telling you, Harry. It's just not something that I want to explain more than once."

"But you'll tell me," Harry pressed.

"Yes," he nodded to reaffirm his words.

"Then I can wait," Harry shrugged nonchalantly.

End, Part 19