Chapter 6: Friend of the Mother

"That was so much fun." Harry thought as he waved goodbye to the boys who had asked him to play with them. It was definitely a rare treat to play with other kids because of his bully of a cousin. His ankle hurt quite a bit, but he was able to hide behind his team's fort and stay off his ankle for most of the time. So it was a little sad when the boys were called back into their houses for lunch. Harry just stood there watching them as each boy's parents hugged them tightly and ushered them into their warm houses. He couldn't help but feel a little jealous. Those kids had a warm place to stay, food on the table, and they weren't in pain from injuries that were caused by people that were supposed to care for you.

The good news was that Harry healed faster than most people. He figured it was because of his freakishness that Uncle Vernon always talked about. Usually when freaky things happened it meant that he would get a beating, but when his freakishness helped him get better, Harry was glad he had it. His nose felt a bit better and he could even breathe through it again. His other injuries still hurt, but the freakishness was helping with them too. "At least now I won't have to worry about getting any new bruises or broken bones so once these are healed, I'll finally feel better for good." This thought brought a small smile to the little boy's face. It was moments like that that reminded him why he ran away from the Dursley's. He may have been cold and hungry, but he was free. Even though he didn't know where his next meal was coming from, Harry knew that things were going to get better. It may have been a foolish hope, but it was still hope and it was all he had.

The young boy walked down Main Street one more time on his back to the abandoned cottage. He was tired from the snowball fight and wanted to rest for a little while before going to find some more food. Plus he wanted to see if there was anything else in the old cottage. It seemed so strangely…familiar and comforting. A part of him wondered if he had been there before. It was weird, but…nice. So the boy made his way up the street and back towards the old cottage.

When he got there, he walked down the hall passed the collapsing staircase. Right behind the stairs, he found a linen closet filled with old blankets and even a few trinkets. Most of the blankets and linens were eaten by moths, but there was one quilt on a shelf just above Harry's head. This quilt for some very odd reason didn't have a single hole in it nor was it faded or fraying at the ends.

A part of Harry knew that he shouldn't do it, but the boy just couldn't resist reaching for the quilt and pulling it down. A few old sheets fell down with it which caused a large cloud of dust to come down with them. Harry coughed and took of his glasses to clean them on his shirt. Once he was done, he picked up the quilt from where he dropped it on the floor. The quilt was covered with red and gold patches and was a good size. Sure it was dusty, but Harry fixed that with a quick shake.

He then wrapped the quilt around himself and felt a warm, comforting feeling on the inside. It was so soft and warm it chased the cold from the snow away and made the boy finally relax. Harry had never been so at ease in his life…well, at least for as long as he could remember. However, the comfort of the quilt reminded his body about his lack of energy from all the activity he did. So even though his stomach wished for some sustenance, Harry ignored it and lied down on the comfy red coach he had spent the previous night on and took a long afternoon nap. The child was completely unaware of the eyes that had been watching him from across the street ever since he returned to the abandoned cottage.

Severus watched in disbelief as the son of his arch nemesis crawled over the rubble of the Potters' old cottage. He couldn't believe the old witch (who had rumors floating around about her failing mental health) was completely right. Not only had the boy come back to his former home, but his body screamed neglect…and possibly abuse. Now here he was, climbing into an abandoned cottage that had its upstairs blown to kingdom come. The Potions Master shook his head in disbelief as he pulled away from the window and headed back towards the fireplace. Bathilda sat there watching him with a look in her eyes that clearly asked, 'Now you believe me?'

Severus sighed, "I'll go grab him." He muttered as he headed for the door.

"Careful" Bathilda said, "If he sees you coming, I guarantee you that he'll run." The younger man rolled his eyes, but stopped when she added, "The boy has been through enough already. Don't make it worse."

With a groan, Severus walked out the door and out into the snow. Quickly, he cast a Notice-Me-Not charm on himself before he crossed the street to enter the old house. When he stepped through the doorway, he felt the familiar stab of guilt and pain run through his heart. The spell damage to the walls reminded him of the horrid act of betrayal he had committed to his one and only childhood friend. The act of betrayal that now left said friend's only child a homeless orphan. Images of her dead body lying there with empty eyes flashed through his mind like a horror film.

Severus shook his head to clear it of the terrifying memories. He had a job to do. He had to get that boy…her boy, out of the cold and most likely to a mediwitch. So the potions master then made his way from the foyer into the living room. There he found a sight he did not expect to see. Instead of a shivering, miserable, little boy, Severus was shocked to find a child fast asleep with a small smile on his face and curled up under the exact same quilt Lily's mother had made for her just before her first year at Hogwarts. As soon as she had learned them, Lily had cast multiple preservation and warming charms on that quilt. She'd said she had wanted her child to have it during their Hogwarts years. Severus couldn't believe the boy had actually found the darn thing. It was probably thanks to those warming charms that the boy had actually survived in the cold weather.

With a sigh, he reached down and laid his hand on the boy's shoulder. The child was so exhausted he didn't even move an inch until Severus started to gently shake his shoulder. With a jerk, Harry's eyes then shot open and he sprang up into a sitting position, but before Harry could open his mouth to protest, Severus quickly began to explain. "I'm not here to hurt you, child."

"Then who are you and what do you want with me? Is this your house or are you with the police?" The boy asked as he subtly eyed the exit.

Severus knew he had to talk fast before the boy made a break for it so he said the one thing he knew he would regret saying later on. "Harry, I was a friend of your mother's so no I am not with the police and no, this is not my house. You're not in any trouble."

Harry's eyes widened in a mixture of surprise and wonder, "You knew my mother? What did she look like? Was she nice? Was she beautiful? Do I look like her?" he asked at a mile a minute.

A part of what was left of the potion master's heart burned with fury. The child didn't even know what his mother looked like? He knew Petunia could spiteful, but could she honestly be so heartless to not even show her own nephew a picture of his mother? "Come to think of it, it does sound like something she would do. I certainly wouldn't put it past such a despicable, arrogant snob." He thought. Clearly the boy needed to be told about not only the Wizarding world and his status in it, but apparently he also needed to be told about his parents. Petunia's parenting methods, or lack thereof, were becoming more unsatisfactory by the minute. "I will answer those questions at a later date, but at the moment, we must get out of the cold." Severus said.

Harry's eyes widened and he slowly began to move away from him, "I'm not going back to the Dursleys."

Severus groaned in frustration, "I never said you would. In fact, I highly doubt you'll ever see them again." He retorted. "Especially if I have anything to say about it."

The boy gave the man a wary look, "How do I know you're not lying? Adults lie a lot."

The potions master sneered at the child before him, "I despise liars and I swear not to lie to you…if you swear not to lie to me." He replied.

Harry looked the man right in the eye. He'd heard once that when someone was lying, they couldn't look you in the eye. Severus's cold, hard gaze never left the child's emerald eyes. The boy was still wary, but was willing to see if this man was actually telling the truth…especially if he could tell him things about his parents. "Alright, I swear not to lie to you if you don't lie to me." He said.

"Deal" Severus said.

So the boy stood up and grabbed his backpack, but then he stopped and looked at the lovely quilt that had felt so warm and comforting. The professor stopped as well and watched as the child ran his fingers across the perfect stitching. "You can keep that quilt, child." He said.

Harry gave the man a confused look, "But doesn't this belong to someone else?" It may have been an abandoned house, but it had to belong to somebody.

"No Mr. Potter, it belongs to you as does everything else in this house." He replied.

The boy looked shocked as he asked, "But how?"

Severus sighed, "This was your parents' house so after they…perished, everything was left to you. Therefore that is your quilt. Now quit dawdling and let's get out of this retched cold before we both get a bad case of the flu." He responded before walking back into the entry way.

Harry smiled as he picked up the quilt and rubbed it against his rosy cheek. "This belonged to my parents. I wonder if mum made it herself." He thought as carried his now most-prized possession into the entryway and out the front door (or what was left of it).

Severus could not believe the mess he had gotten into. Here he was escorting his worst enemies' child back to Hogwarts where he then had to make sure that he didn't end up back at his relatives house. Merlin only knows how much arguing with the headmaster he'd have to do to keep his word to the boy. The fact that he actually had to argue with the "Leader of the Light" about placing the boy with another family was ridiculous. It was quite clear that the child was NOT taken care of at all. Bruises covered his body, his nose looked like it had been broken, he was limping, and the state of his clothing was no better than a beggar's. But no, Albus just couldn't shut up about "blood wards" and the importance of family. Severus scoffed; a pack of wolves would've treated the child better than those people.

But first off, he had to explain magic to the boy before flooing into the headmaster's office from Bathilda's house so Severus led the child across the street and knocked on the old woman's door. She was of course practically waiting at the door the whole time so they didn't have to stand outside in the cold for very long.

"Hurry and come in. The sky's darkening and at this time of the year, that means a storm's surely on its way." She said as she ushered them into the warm sitting room, "I'll be right back with some tea." She muttered as she headed into her kitchen.

Harry looked around the old room with a look of confusion, "Sir, I thought you said we were going to an old school." He remarked.

Severus sighed as he sat down on an old, brown sofa in front of the fireplace, "First, there are a few things I need to explain to you after I ask you a few questions."

The boy nodded, "Alright"

"How much did your aunt and uncle tell you about your parents?" Severus knew Petunia probably hadn't said a thing about magic, but he hoped she at least had said something about the boy's parents.

Harry looked down at his feet and played with the fraying hem on his jacket as he replied, "They told me that my dad was a no-good drunk and that he got himself and my whore of a mother killed in a car accident."

Severus's eyes widened in horror. Who knew Petunia could be that cruel?! He expected her to say nothing of magic, but to tell her own nephew such awful lies about his parents. That was the lowest of the low. "Spiteful bitch." He thought. "Once again, your aunt lied." He said, "Your father was not a drunk nor was your mother a whore and they did not die in a car crash. You're aunt however is a cold-hearted, spiteful woman who couldn't look past her own jealousy to properly care for her own nephew."

Harry was a little shocked to hear this. Never had an adult said such things about his aunt and uncle. They'd always sided with them and called him the liar. So to finally have someone agree with him about his relatives was an entirely new experience…one he'd hope would continue.

Severus watched the different emotions flash through the boy's eyes for a little while before he continued, "I went to school with both your parents, but your mother and I grew up in the same neighborhood so I had the misfortune of meeting your aunt. Even back then, she was a horrid pest who couldn't keep her nose out of other people's business."

Harry thought that that sounded about right. Aunt Petunia was always craning her abnormally long neck over the fence to eavesdrop on the neighbors or poking her head out the window so she could get a better view of what the people across the street were up to.

"As for your mother," Severus said, "she was the kindest person I'd ever met. She cared more about a person's feelings then their looks or where they came from." The potions master had a far-away look in his eyes as he said all this. Clearly, he was remembering better times such as those summer days he and Lily spent on the playground where they met.

Harry smiled as he listened to Severus' words. Never before had he heard such nice things said about his mother. All Aunt Petunia could ever say about her was that she was a no-good freak that left her brat on her sister's doorstep. "What did she look like?" he asked.

What was left of Severus' cold, hard heart cracked rather painfully at the child's question. The boy didn't even know what his mother looked like! He didn't remember her sunset red hair, her sweet, soft smile, or even her bell-like laughter. Yes, he was very young when he lost her, but the least that hateful, monster of a woman that dared call herself Lily's sister, could've done was tell Lily's child a small something about his mother. "Your mother was very beautiful woman." He replied, "She had red hair and green eyes."

The boy's eyes widened and a large smile spread across his face, "Like my eyes?"

Severus felt the corners of his mouth twitch. He almost wanted to smile at the sparkling green eyes that were shining up at him, but it had been nearly a decade since he had smiled. "Yes, you have your mother's eyes." It was almost painful looking down at those eyes. Oh, how he missed his best friend. She was the only person that ever truly knew him…at least before he'd made the biggest mistake of his life.

"What about my dad?" Harry asked the potions master. He had become rather quiet for a few minutes so Harry had wondered if he had forgotten about him.

The professor was snapped back to reality when the child asked that question. Severus knew it was coming, but he was certainly not looking forward to answering it. He certainly didn't have many nice things to say about the late James Potter, the tormentor of his teen hood. "I didn't know him very well." He replied.

"Do I look like him too?" the boy asked.

Severus clenched his teeth as he remembered the taunting face of his nemesis, but he knew that he couldn't let the child know his true opinion of his father. So he told the boy what nice things he could say about that arrogant bully that made his life hell. "Except for your eyes, you look exactly like him."

"Was he nice and not a drunk like Aunt Petunia said?" the child asked with a sadden look in his emerald eyes.

The potion master shook his head, "No, he wasn't a drunk. He cared for you and your mother very much." "He even died for you both." He thought after he'd answered the boy.

Harry looked down at his feet and sat there quietly for a few minutes. Severus sensed that a much harder question was on its way, one that he was certainly not looking forward to answering at all…and sure enough, the next question was far worse than all the others. "If my parents didn't die in the car crash like my aunt said, then how did they die?"

Severus sighed as he thought of how he was going to handle the current situation. "Best start from the beginning." He thought. So he began to tell the child about his true heritage.

Author's notes: Well, that was longer than I thought it would be, but it was needed for the plot. Next chapter Harry will learn just what happened that awful Halloween night and then…well, I don't want to give away too much, but we will finally make it to Hogwarts. Reviews would be lovely and the ones I have been getting have been a real encouragement. Keep up the good work.