Shorter chapter here. This took me a bit to fix up- I had a completely different version of this chapter laid out before, so different that it would be unrecognizable now. Actually, after this chapter, everything I'm writing is new(not written several months ago as the rest has been), but I am excited to see where this goes, and I had already written plenty of scenes for future moments in this story, so not to worry. Chapters should still be coming out rather quickly at least until Tuesday(when I go back to work).
By the time Summer started, Harry had memorized several of the properties of ingredients in the encyclopedia, and had even done some experimenting with some of the less-potent ingredients in the potions he knew how to brew, to see what the effects would be and whether they held true to the things he had read in the encyclopedia. He knew it was somewhat pointless, as all of them reacted exactly the way he expected them to, but he took notes anyway, and filed away the reactions in his mind.
His mother was still glued to her own potions work, but now that he too was immersed in his own little experiments, he hardly noticed anymore. The exception was at bedtime, when, around 10pm, Harry usually accepted that it was far past his bedtime and his mother wasn't coming to tuck him in. Occasionally she still did, and she still told him stories when he asked.
On one such night, Harry was glad when his mother appeared at 9:15, right as he was climbing into bed to wait for her. He noticed she had already removed the glasses she usually wore, and briefly wondered whether it had to do with her potions work that day.
"Harry," she said, as if not entirely registering that he was there, "are you ready for bed?"
Harry nodded. Lily crossed the room to him and kissed his forehead lightly, rubbing her thumb against his scar distractedly. She always knew where it was, no matter the fact that she kept it constantly covered by a flesh-colored patch she'd found in a muggle store.
"Mum, tell me about your friends at Hogwarts," Harry asked eagerly. He was just a nine year old boy, and he still dreamed of having friends his own age.
Lily sat down beside him on the bed, tucking his covers up to his chin. "Well, there was Mary, Remus, Alice, Frank..."
Her voice trailed off. Harry didn't press on. He knew that Alice and Frank had been injured in their heads, as his mother said, and were forever confined to St. Mungo's.
"Who else? What about Dad and his friends?"
Lily smiled sadly. "Your Dad was very close to Remus, Sirius, and... Peter." Lily added Peter's name like a bitter afterthought.
"Were all of your friends in Gryffindor, Mum?"
Lily ignored this question at first. She stared at the wall of the room she used to live in, where one of her favorite posters was hanging. It was a play poster made to advertise a Hogwarts production of The Fountain of Fair Fortune.
Harry looked uneasily to where his mother was staring, hard, at the witches and knight that danced around the fountain. "...Mum?"
"It's late," Lily said, standing and smoothing out the area on the bed spread where she'd sat down.
"It's 9:30," Harry said, sitting up and twiddling his thumbs.
Lily sat back down and sighed, a pained expression crossing her face. "Do you remember the friend I told you about who lived near my house, who I met before I went to Hogwarts?"
"The one who blew his head up?"
"Yes. He was a Slytherin."
Harry pondered this information for a moment. "Was he good, though, Mum?"
Lily pressed Harry back into bed and tucked him in a second time, kissing his forehead. "I think he was, Harry. Goodnight, my love. Sleep well."
She left. Harry thought about the mysterious Slytherin boy extensively before drifting off to sleep.
"Professor?"
"Yes, Mr. Baker?"
"What house were you in at Hogwarts?"
There was a pause. Professor Snape had been discussing the four houses with Harry, explaining the good qualities(and his pet peeves) in each.
"Slytherin," he replied.
"Oh," said Harry. "My Mum was in Gryffindor. So was my Dad."
"Hmm," Professor Snape said, rolling his eyes. "And I suppose you hope to be in Gryffindor as well?"
"I don't know," said Harry thoughtfully. "I don't really mind as long as I get along with the people in my house, and make lots of friends."
"Draco Malfoy will probably go to Slytherin," the professor mused.
Harry wrinkled his nose at that. "Ugh. Wherever I go, I hope it's not with him."
"I would expect you would be mature enough to handle the likes of Draco," Professor Snape said. And it was true.
Harry shrugged. "It doesn't really matter. Mum had a friend in Slytherin. She said he was good."
Professor Snape raised his eyebrows. "Did she say who this friend was?"
"Mum never says his name."
"I suppose she may be trying to protect him. Slytherins who went against the Dark Lord were often targets during the war. If she worries still for the two of you, she probably worries for him as well."
Harry glared at the floor. "I hate him," he said angrily. "He took so much... He killed my father, and now my Mum is always afraid..."
Professor Snape didn't say anything, only thought of the young friend he had once played with just outside those walls, and after a moment, he went back to the book he was reading. Harry slowly relaxed, cooling down enough to go back to his research on alternatives to the potions ingredient Cara Bean.
At the end of Harry's time at Professor Snape's home, he set down his notes and closed his book.
"What have you learned?" the professor asked, without looking up from his own book.
"In some potions, the Cara Bean can be replaced by the Caymana Bean. Most of those potions become weaker as a result, but still usable. In the Draught of Living Death, the Caymana Bean causes the potion to strengthen, but that's an-" Harry glanced at his notes here "-undesirable effect."
"Why would it be undesirable to have a stronger Draught of Living Death?"
"Because... Because it could put the drinker in a coma from which they would never awaken, sir."
Professor Snape nodded. "You may see yourself out. Should I expect you tomorrow?"
Harry shook his head. "No, sir. It's... My birthday is soon, sir. Mum is taking me shopping early."
Professor Snape looked up, narrowing his eyes at the wall across from him. A memory clawed at him, at the edges of his mind, like an itch. Born as the seventh month dies. But this was June, not July. He shook the thought. "Where?"
"Um… I'm not sure if I should say… but Mum said it's in Scotland."
Hogsmeade, then. "Hmm. Until next time, then."
Harry sighed and left the house. He did like the professor, and he knew his birthday was technically next month. But he wished he'd gotten some kind of response indicative of the excitement of turning ten.
It was just after sunrise that the two remaining Potters, both disguised with blond wavy hair and bright blue eyes, floo'd to the old Hogshead.
Lily Potter was not entirely keen on having her son anywhere inside the place, but it was much too early in the morning for most drinkers. As she expected, the entire place was empty save for Abe, who hadn't stirred from his slumber in a chair behind the bar.
"Now remember," Lily began, crouching to Harry's level, "you must answer only to Evan Baker. Do not so much as turn your head to the names Harry, James, or Potter. My name is Belinda. If we somehow become separated, press your middle finger to your pendant and stay where you are so that I can find you."
With Harry's mute nod of compliance, she opened the door and lead both of them out into the streets.
Hogsmeade in summer time was a beautiful sight to behold. Lily herself had rarely seen the place outside school visits, which were usually held in colder months. She found herself admiring the beauty of the little village, something her son was also currently doing from his place beside her.
They were jolted from their reverie, however, by a figure who'd apparently just apparated nearby.
The figure immediately knocked into Lily, which knocked the glasses from her face. Harry didn't get a chance to pick them up before his mother staggered and stepped on them.
"Sorry," muttered the irate wizard, pushing past them towards the Three Broomsticks.
"And that's all the bastard can seem to say," Lily muttered angrily, looking off in the general direction of the stomping man.
"Mum, your glasses," Harry began nervously.
Lily sighed. "Least he could've done," she muttered. "Just pick them up, Evan. I can see well enough not to hurt myself."
Harry did as he was told, wishing his mother would just fix them with magic. It was just a simple charm- he'd read about it himself. Perhaps using her wand still made her too sad, and she, like Harry, knew that this day was supposed to be happy and hiding the sadness would be better.
Hogsmeade was far from crowded, but there were several early morning shoppers already going about their day.
"You pick where we go first, Evan," Harry heard his mother say. His spirits lifted as he searched for somewhere interesting to visit.
"There," he exclaimed, "It says 'Honeydukes,' and there's candy in the window. Mum, please, let's go there first."
Lily laughed, a sound that, if possible, lifted Harry's spirits even more. "My silly boy," she chuckled, "you'll spoil your lunch! But alright, alright, Honeydukes it is."