I'm back, still not owning Harry Potter or anyone/anything connected to him. Well, save for magical items/creatures in the public domain. We all own unicorns! Muh hah ha ha!

REVISION: I am very ashamed of myself. I used the wrong year to mark the full moons so I'm doing a revision of all full moonyness. Please forgive me.

Chapter Four: That had to count for something.

The next morning Snape was making blueberry pancakes even before the sun rose. Last night had given him a lot to think about. It seemed that Black, Lupin, or Potter were not as horrid as he had believed. And, if he had to be honest with himself, Snape had to admit he had never given the younger Potter a fair chance. If a professor had treated him the way he treated Potter he would have hated that professor. So he had mainly himself to blame for Potter's treatment of him.

Furthermore it seemed that Dumbledore hadn't told Potter about the prophecy. Snape was unsure if he ought to tell Potter or not. Flipping a pancake, he decided to do so. Knowledge was power, after all, and Potter would need all the knowledge he could get in the battle against Lord Voldemort. Even Potter acknowledged that for the past three years he'd been more lucky than good in his little adventures.

Yet at the same time that would mean conceding his role in Lily's death, something he still had difficulty coping with every day. They would blame him, and justly so. Over the past few days the trio had brought a new sort of life to Snape's house and he didn't want it to go away.

His musings were broken by a knock at the back door. Hurriedly Snape finished up the latest pancake and turned off the stove before heading back to the mud room. Opening the door he saw no one there.

From the vicinity of his knees came a cough.

Snape looked down. On the welcome mat was a wide-eyed house elf in a pillowcase toga and mismatched socks. Having gotten his attention the house elf inquired, "Is Master Harry Potter here?"

"Yes… you must be Dobby. Come in."

The house elf teared up, wringing his hands. "Oh, how kind of you!"

"I am NOT kind," an indigent Snape grumbled. Dobby explained, "But Dobby cannot quite go in- Dobby cannot leave Buckbeak unattended."

A large mass in the shadows shifted at the sound of its name. Snape closed his eyes. He had a house elf and a hippogriff in his back yard. How could things possibly get worse?

"I suppose the hippogriff can come in as well… my house can't get that much more wrecked anyhow."

"Oh, thank you very much," Dobby beamed as he and the giant grey hippogriff made their way inside. Buckbeak made himself comfortable in the front sitting room, Dobby sat down at the kitchen table, and Snape resumed making blueberry pancakes.

Curiously Snape asked, "How did you know that Potter was here?"

"Dobby used house-elf magic. How is Master Harry Potter?"

"Rather well. Do you want a pancake while we wait for everyone else to get up?" Snape asked. Snape didn't mind being nice to house-elves; it was being nice to annoying fellow wizards that he had difficulty with. Dobby nodded happily once he recovered from the shock of having a wizard speak politely to him.

"Yes, please."

Snape got out a plate, a fork, and a partially cooled pancake, placing it before Dobby. As the house elf ate a rumpled Black entered the kitchen, blinking his grey eyes blearily.

"I must still be sleepy… I could have sworn that there's a hippogriff in the library."

"That's because there is a hippogriff in the library," Snape replied simply as he flipped the pancake. Black scratched the back of his head. "Really?"

"Yes."

"Can we keep the hippogriff?" Before Snape could answer Black did a double take. "Wait... there's a house elf eating a pancake at the table, there's a hippogriff in the library, and to top it off you of all people are making pancakes and wearing an apron. Well, this is a nice change in dreams."

Snape looked down at himself. He was wearing a dull grey apron over his black sweater and black slacks. Great. Black would never let him live this down- once he was fully awake.

"So… anyway, can we keep the hippogriff?"

"His name is Buckbeak. I'm not sure that we can. Perhaps we could give him to the Weasleys?"

Black yawned. "Can I have a pancake?"

"Help yourself."

Sleepily Black got out a plate and piled onto it three pancakes. Plopping into a chair he rolled up the top one like a burrito before biting into it. Snape just rolled his eyes as he poured the batter for yet another pancake. The window perpendicular to the sink was showing a hint of light on the horizon; soon Lupin and Potter would be awakening as well. Snape tried not to sigh; this was not how he had foreseen spending his summer holiday at all.

The sun was barely up when Lupin made his way downstairs, tying his tie in one of his weary brown suits as he did so.

"Morning, Padfoot. Morning, Snape. Morning… er, excuse me, but who are you?"

"This is Dobby; remember Harry telling us about him last night?" Snape informed Lupin as he placed a pair of pancakes on a plate. As he handed over the plate he continued, "He came by to say hello and drop off a hippogriff."

Dobby nodded, adjusting his tea cozy hat. Lupin peered into the library to verify Snape's story before taking a seat at the kitchen table.

"Very well then. Should one of us go get Harry up?"

"Can Dobby do it?"

"Um, okay," Black shrugged. Hastily the house elf finished his pancake before disappearing, presumably to upstairs. Two minutes later there was a faint thump from Potter's chambers.

"I think Potter is awake," Snape noted as he removed a pancake from the pan to the plate. Black retorted, "You think?"

Still in his oversized pajamas Potter followed Dobby into the kitchen. With a tired but pleased smile he told the house elf, "Thanks for rescuing Buckbeak… how did you know?"

"The owl of Harry Potter got Dobby!"

"Hedwig? Wow. I need to give her a tasty treat when she comes back from delivering Hermione and Ron's letters…"

"Indeed. She is a clever owl."

"I know," Harry smiled happily. Then he noticed: "Pancakes!"

Snape handed over a plate with two pancakes on it. "Here you go, Potter."

"Thanks… do you have any maple syrup?"

"No."

"Oh," went Harry as he took the final seat. Black stood up, stretching. "You can have my seat, Sevy boy. I'm done eating."

"I'm not," Lupin noted as he sliced up a pancake. Snape puzzled, "Isn't that your seventh pancake, Lupin?"

The werewolf grumbled, "How many times do I have to go over this- as a werewolf I have a high metabolism."

"I know, but still," Snape shook his head in disbelief as he turned off the stove. As he took off his apron he asked, "So, what to do about the hippogriff?"

Getting out the orange juice from the fridge Black commented hopefully, "I thought we were going to keep him?"

"No," stated Lupin and Snape, who then looked at one another in surprise. The former noted, "It wouldn't be fair for Buckbeak to be kept here."

"I suggest the Weasleys; the Burrow in the countryside. The hippogriff should be happy there," Snape stated. Potter beamed. "Cool! Let's take him over."

"First eat your breakfast," Snape informed him absently as he sat down at Black's vacated seat with a plate of three pancakes. Potter nodded sheepishly, then paused. He looked over at Snape with those eyes that were far too much like Lily's. Crossly Snape stated, "I just don't want the pancakes to be wasted."

"Right," a reassured Potter replied. Dobby's ears twitched. "Ah… the Wheezies! Dobby likes the Wheezies!"

Black snorted as he put away the orange juice carton. "Never heard that one before."

"Neither have I," Lupin agreed. Snape just put a piece of pancake in his mouth as to not make a comment. A large tawny owl appeared at the sink window, tapping on the pane. Black opened the window to allow it to fly in. Giving Snape an official-looking envelope the owl then flew off. Curiously Potter asked, "Who's it from?"

"The Ministry…"

Black growled. "Those gits?"

"Padfoot, be nice," Lupin reprimanded the other wizard, but his own face was dark. "Go ahead and read it, Snape."

Pushing his plate back slightly Snape did so. "How odd. Apparently an Auror is coming on the fourteenth to make sure we're keeping the Boy Who Lived in one piece."

Black frowned, "This can't be good."

"Why?" Snape looked over at Black, too curious to make a cutting remark. Black noted, "They might be checking to see if we're suitable guardians for Harry- a known if former Death Eater, a werewolf, and a wizard who spent the last twelve years in Azkaban."

"I hate it when you make sense; but we can't be worse than Harry's Muggle relatives," Snape argued. "Still, sending an Auror to check in on us seems peculiar… I suppose we'll learn more on the fourteenth."

Lupin looked sour. "It can't end well."

Looking to change the subject Harry asked Dobby, "So, Dobby, what have you been up to?"

Dobby looked despondent. "Most wizards do not want a free house elf working for them. Dobby cannot find work."

"That's horrible, Dobby!" a stricken Potter exclaimed. Dobby perked up, saying, "It is better than working for the Malfoys!"

"True…"

Lupin and Black looked over at Snape, who sighed. "No."

"Aw, come on. He's adorable," Black argued.

"No."

"How bad could it be?"

"I said no."

"Please?"

"No."

"Please?"

"No."

"Please?"

"No."

"Please?"

"No- this is exactly why I had reservations about having you two in my house!"

Black maturely stuck his tongue out at the irate other wizard. Harry perked up. "Wait- Dobby here?"

Dobby perked up. "Dobby just wants a day off a month and a sickle a week!"

"You want paid?" Lupin puzzled. Dobby nodded fervently. Snape thought it over. "Well, it's better than worrying about Potter doing all the chores. I've never had a house-elf before."

"Dobby seems loads better than Kreacher," Black helpfully pointed out. Snape frowned, "Regulus liked Kreacher, or so he told me."

"He also liked our parents. He had issues." Black seemed almost wistful in his offhand reference to his baby brother, but Snape decided he was giving Black too much credit. Still he sighed, "All right, Dobby, you can work here. The terms seem acceptable to me."

Dobby beamed widely, and Potter grinned, "Thanks, Snape! Maybe you're not so bad after all."

"Funny; I was about to say the same to you, Potter."

Potter just leaned over to hug Dobby. "This is the best summer ever!"

"Harry, it just started," Lupin laughed. Potter shrugged, "It's still the best summer ever."

Black had volunteered to take Buckbeak over to the Burrow; Potter had wanted to go along but he still had some summer work left and besides none of the adult wizards were sure how Buckbeak would be received. Lupin had gone with Black to make sure he behaved himself. Dobby was off settling in; where, Snape, didn't know.

Down in the basement Snape was working on a Wolfsbane potion for the upcoming full moon. When he stopped to let it simmer, he noticed Potter sitting quietly on one of the bottom steps. Sharply he asked, "What, Potter?"

"It's getting to be around lunch time," Potter stated simply. "I was wondering if you wanted me to cook, if you wanted to cook, or if we should let Dobby do it."

"I suppose we could make sandwiches for lunch," Snape conceded as he washed his hands. "We'd best head upstairs."

"Right," Potter nodded, getting to his feet. Today he wore a pair of baggy jeans and an oversized orange T-shirt. Caustically Snape had to ask, "Why must you always dress so awkwardly, Potter?"

Potter looked down at himself. "Oh, these are Dudley's hand-me-downs."

"Why are you wearing your cousin's hand-me-downs?"

"Because they're the only clothes I have," Potter shrugged as Snape walked over to the base of the stairs. Snape frowned, "You only have your cousin's old clothes to wear?"

"Besides my school robes, yeah," Potter admitted. Then defensively he added, "But I don't see where it's any of your business- Padfoot is my godfather, not you!"

Snape raised his hand to rub a temple; Potter clearly had his mother's temper. In the process of doing so, however, he paused. Potter had flinched when he had raised his hand, and his eyes- so much like his mother's- were suddenly wide.

"Sorry, Snape," he gulped. Something rather cold settled in Snape's stomach. Someone had hurt Potter, most likely his Muggle relatives. To hide his turmoil he simply said harshly, "It's all right. Come on, I'm hungry. We need to go make those sandwiches."

As he followed Potter up the stairs, Snape knew he would have to speak to the other two about this matter.

It was early evening when Lupin and Black finally returned. Apparently Mrs. Weasley had insisted on mothering the pair for a while. Plus it had taken a while to drag Black away from the hippogriff. It figured.

Potter and Dobby had teamed up to make chicken noodle soup; Snape commented, "This isn't half-bad, Potter."

"Thanks; I got lots of cooking practice at the Dursleys," Potter acknowledged. Lupin half-teased the pair, "Well, then, why aren't you better at Potions? Apparently cooking and potion-making have a lot in common in Snape's mutual skills are any indication."

"In some ways," Snape had to concede, ignoring the little voice in his head that was commenting on the fact that like Potter he often did the cooking in his house. At least his mother had almost always protected him when his father had gotten violent- Potter hadn't had that. And it was his fault. That reminded Snape of his resolution to tell Potter, Lupin, and Black about the prophecy. That'd be a "fun" conversation. Nonetheless after dinner he got the trio into the library with him. Pacing he began.

"As you all know, I was once a Death Eater."

"And we weren't," Black noted. Lupin kicked him in the leg. "Padfoot!"

"What? I was being Sirius..."

The other two adult wizards gave the beaming wizard rather dour looks. Harry simply hid a smirk. Lupin just gestured, "Please continue, Snape."

"Very well. I was assigned to follow Dumbledore… one night I followed him to an interview with a candidate for the Divination post…"

Lupin let out a low whistle. "Dumbledore mentioned that this was her second accurate prediction shortly before I left. You overheard the first, didn't you?"

Snape nodded curtly, pained. "I… I… relayed what I had heard to the Dark Lord, even though I hadn't heard the entire prophecy. If I had known what was to follow I wouldn't have."

"It contained the reason Voldemort went after Prongs and Lily," a sickened Black murmured. Snape shook his head. "No. It contained the reason Voldemort went after Harry."

Lupin's brow creased. "You're saying that Voldemort wasn't after James and Lily- he was after Harry?"

Snape nodded. "From I had heard it stated the requirements for the Dark Lord's possible arch-rival. There were two born who fit them; Voldemort picked Potter."

"Who was the other?" Black had to ask. Quietly Lupin stated, "Longbottom, obviously. Remember? Usually such prophecies include a set date of birth, and Longbottom is only a day older than Harry."

"Also both sets of couples had faced and escaped the Dark Lord three times, as said in the prophecy," Snape added bitterly. Potter looked at his hands in his lap. "That's why you hate Neville almost as much as you hate me. Because if Voldemort had picked Neville my mom would still be alive."

"Snape, you do realize what happened to Frank and Alice, don't you?" an incredulous Lupin demanded. Snape stared into the muted flames. "Yes."

Baffled, Potter questioned, "But I mean- why hasn't Dumbledore told me this?"

"I don't know," Snape admitted. "I just know that knowledge is power, and that you ought to have this knowledge if you're to have any chance of success with your record. But it does state that you both can't survive… one of you will have to die."

Black blanched. "I'm not losing Prongslet!"

Studying Snape closely Potter said, "Because you were the one who had given him this information about me- the one who could defeat him- you got Voldemort to agree to sparing my mom's life. You didn't care what happened to my dad-"

"To be fair, Prongs wouldn't care about Snape had their situations been reversed," Black interjected. With a lopsided smile Potter concurred, "I know. And it'd be pointless to try to spare me since I was the intended target. But you managed to get Voldemort to agree to sparing my mom's life."

"Not that it worked," Snape grumbled bitterly, looking away from Potter. Almost kindly Potter shook his head. "It would have worked… but my mom refused to let Voldemort kill me. He kept telling her to stand aside, but she wouldn't. It's my fault that she died, not yours."

Black commented, "That's right… the Dementors make you remember your worst memories… they make you remember that night?"

"Yes. Dad died first, trying to hold Voldemort off. Then he went after me and Mom."

"Why didn't he just Stun her then, or hex her, or anything besides KILLING Lily!" Snape raged, refusing to let any tears well up as he paced furiously. Softly, flatly Black stated, "If he was after Harry he didn't need to kill either of them. But he killed both of them. He's a twisted psycho with the power to do whatever the hell he wants."

"He did terrible yet great things," Potter echoed Mr. Ollivander. Soberly Lupin nodded. "Yes, precisely, Harry."

"I'm just quoting Mr. Ollivander. He said it, not me."

Snape looked back and forth between the trio. Almost belligerently he demanded, "Why aren't you blaming me for their deaths?"

"Please, Snape, it's not all about you. Anyway I'm more responsible than you. Even if you hadn't been the Death Eater assigned, a Death Eater would have overheard the prophecy. Besides, you didn't realize the consequences. I actively misplaced my trust; if I had been the Secret Keeper as planned it would have been a lot tougher for Voldemort to get to the Potters," Black stated savagely. "Besides, you clearly feel badly about it. Peter was just worried about being caught."

Snape collapsed into the armchair opposite Potter's. "Yes. I've lost Lily twice… both times were my fault."

"Oh?" Black commented distantly. Snape half-sneered at Black. "Well, you four had a role in it."

"Ah," Lupin looked shamefully. "I am sorry, Snape… I didn't like defying my friends…"

Black smacked his hand to his forehead. "Really, Moony? You could have kept us from being total gits quite a few times if you hadn't been so meek. We wouldn't have stopped being friends with you or publicly revealed your furry little problem if you stood up to us on occasion."

"I know," but Lupin's expression and tone stated otherwise. Black rolled his eyes. Potter looked troubled. "What happened?"

"In the heat of the moment I called Lily a 'mudblood'… it was the final straw… she wouldn't be my friend anymore…"

"That seems harsh," Potter frowned, dismayed. He had barely gotten used to the idea that his father had been more than a bit of a prat during his Hogwarts days, especially towards Slytherins. Snape shook his head. "I was already poking into the Dark Arts… hanging out with future Death Eaters…"

"Then why didn't you change into a wizard my mom would have wanted to be friends with?" Potter questioned. Snape's stomach turned into a knot. "I thought it was already too late… I just…"

"If my mom was as wonderful as you seem to think, she would have been more than willing to be friends with you again if you had straightened out," Potter stated firmly. "Clearly all Slytherins can't be all bad if she and you were good friends."

"Best friends," Snape corrected the teen wistfully. Potter's eyes widened as he realized something. "Is that why you and my dad hated each other? Because you both had crushes the same girl?"

"WHAT?" Snape yelled. Black admitted, "Prongslet has a point… Prongs did not like how close you and Lily were."

Snape blinked. Flatly he questioned, "The great James Potter was jealous of me?"

"Of course," Lupin smiled faintly. "You had the one thing he didn't but was the one thing he really wanted."

"Oh."

Potter ran a hand through his hair, further messing it up. "Well, I'm going to bed early. It's been a long day."

As Potter headed up the staircase revealed by a lazy swish of Lupin's wand Snape called after him. Potter turned to look back at his Potions master.

"Potter, tomorrow we're going clothes shopping."

"Why?"

"Well, there's no need for you to try to look like a gangster," Snape retorted sharply. With a grin Potter nodded before resuming his way upstairs. As the bookcase replaced itself Black looked over Snape.

"You're really a nice person, aren't you?"

"Shut up, Black. I need to tell you two something," Snape sighed as he flopped back in his chair. "Today, down in the basement, Potter had come to ask about lunch. He mouthed off a bit, I lifted my hand to rub my temple, and he flinched."

Black's eyes grew cold. "You mean that someone…"

"Yes. He wasn't acting either. Someone at some time physically hurt Potter- probably his Muggle relatives. We already know they emotionally abused him, why not physically abuse him as well?" Snape asked sardonically. Nauseated Lupin protested, "But they wouldn't do that to their own nephew."

Black and Snape, both having been abused by their own parents, gave the werewolf pitying looks. Lupin ran a hand through his limpid hair. "Merlin, no wonder Harry's been acting so tense. Should we do anything?"

"Let him come to us," Black decided. "It worked well enough for me and the Potters."

"Same with Lily and I; we can't push him," Snape found himself backing up Black. "Also, Lupin, I will be making Wolfsbane potion for you for the week preceding the full moon."

"Ah, thanks."

"It's no difficulty… especially as I do not want a feral werewolf in my house on the full moon."

Lupin made a slight face. "I do wish it tasted better."

"At least it exists," Black pointed out wryly.

"Touché."

Even though it was relatively early Snape soon found himself going to bed, leaving Black and Lupin playing wizard chess in the kitchen. The past few days had given him a little too much to think about.

Still, he didn't have any more regrets to add to his list yet. That had to count for something.