October 1976

When he was sixteen, Severus would regularly hide away behind a tree near the Forbidden Forest instead of going inside the castle. It was here that he would spend many hours studying, reading or just daydreaming. He would do nothing else but watch the autumn leaves fall all around him. It was a lovely place that was isolated from the rest of the world around him. His life had been hell over the last year.

He needed to get away from the world at that point of his life. It wasn't long ago that his mother had died, Lily had ended their friendship and the Marauders had given him the ultimate humiliation.

"I never would have found you here if I hadn't been following you all this time. You are really good at hiding."

Severus quickly jumped and took out his wand. It was James Potter.

"What the fuck do you want?!"

"Nothing. I just want to say something."

Severus could tell that there was definitely something amiss with him. His usual arrogance was absent. There was a strange look in his eye; it looked like a mixture of gentleness and sadness. His gang and admirers were not with him. It was all very suspicious.

"What?!" Severus demanded, "Tell me before I hex you."

"Sniv – Severus, Lily told me that your mother died around last Christmas and that your dad is gone as well."

Severus was saddened but he kept his composure. He had hoped that Lily would have kept this a secret from everyone else but since they were no longer friends he guessed that she didn't have any more loyalty to him.

"Well, I've just found out that my parents are going to die soon," Potter continued, "It's not a surprise at their age but still, I'm quite distraught at the prospect of becoming an orphan. I'm only sixteen and they're my only family. I was thinking that I now have at least someone to relate to."

'Relate to.' These words started ringing in Severus' head. He wasn't even sure whether it was really Potter who had said them.

Severus began to seethe through his teeth. How dare Potter say that he could relate to his problems. Potter had been treated like a prince all his life. He had an easy life full of friends and admirers. He had money and talent that other people recognised. He was an arrogant bully who took delight in tormenting others weaker than him. He had absolutely no idea about his life.

Never the less, Potter continued, "Looking back, I was rather unkind to you over all these years. I hope you have it in your heart to forgive me. I'm sorry."

Potter scratched his head and waited for Severus to respond. For the first time, Potter's hazel eyes met Severus' dark ones and were equal. Severus just glared at him for a moment, unsure how to react. He wanted to put Potter in his place and give back some kind of smart retort but no words would come out of his mouth.

'I'm sorry.' He had said those words as if they had the power to undo five whole years of cruelty and resentment. They didn't. Not at all. There was no forgiveness in Severus' heart for Potter or for anyone else for that matter. His insides felt colder than ice.

Before Potter could even blink he was struck by one of Severus' newly invented curses. It was a knockback jinx combined with a confusion hex. It was simple but effective and Potter would be out cold for hours.

Then he just fled, knowing that he would have to find a new hiding place. Potter may have won the war long ago but Severus still had enough courage to keep at least one dignity:

He was never going to forgive him ever.

Harry was delighted to know that he could spend Christmas at Hogwarts. He was even more delighted to know that he wouldn't be alone as Ron would be staying too. His parents were going to Romania to visit his older brother Charlie. Hermione however, would be seeing her parents.

Harry woke up on Christmas day not expecting to receive any gifts of any kind. There would be no presents as usual but at least he wouldn't have to eat another one of his aunt's wilted salads, the fowl crackling that she made or listen to Aunt Marge talk about her dogs.

"Harry!" Ron yelled at the top of his lungs, "Wake up! We've got presents!"

"Presents? For me?" Harry said doubtfully, he had never received many good presents in his life.

"Of course there is, it's Christmas! Duh!" Ron rolled his eyes, "These are yours."

Harry turned to see two packages for him and a letter. There was also a large pile of sweets from admirers but he wasn't as interested in them, he would eat them later. He decided to open the letter first. It was from Hagrid wishing him a Merry Christmas. Enclosed was a quarter that he had collected from the Dursleys when he visited them. He gave the coin to Ron, whose father had a fascination with muggle artefacts. He would have to send Hagrid a letter back thanking him for the Christmas wishes and to tell him that making the Dursleys send him something was more effort that what it was worth.

Harry then picked up the first parcel. It was something soft inside, presumably an item of clothes but he was excited to receive something.

"Oh!" Ron said when he was about to open it, "You might not want to open that, it's from Mum. She makes one for each of us every Christmas. She hasn't even met you and already considers you a part of the family."

Harry opened it to find a knitted maroon jumper with a bright yellow letter 'H' in the front. It wasn't his colour, he hated the itchy feel of wool and it was far too big for him. However none of that mattered, his smiled at the sight of it. It had meant something more to Harry than Ron would realise. The woman had taken her time to knit him something out of kindness and because he was Ron's friend, not because he was famous. He didn't hesitate to put it on.

"I'll have to thank your mother for this. It's wonderful. I love it to pieces."

"She'll be pleased to hear that."

His next present was a bit more enigmatic. It was also soft but it looked too big to be an item of clothes. There was also no sender, only a note that said 'You inherited this when a wealthy man died in the hope that he would be forgiven for the mistakes he had made in his life. It is time it was given to you.'

"What does that mean? Who?"

Harry shook his head, "No clue."

Inside was a silvery, majestic piece of cloth. It felt softer than velvet when he ran his fingers through it. He could see intricate patterns woven through it.

"I know what that is!" Ron exclaimed, "An invisibility cloak - they're really rare. Try it on."

When he wrapped the cloak over his body the rest of him completely disappeared. It was exactly what he wanted his entire life – something that could render him invisible.

"Wow!" was all that Harry could say, he was lost for words. This was already the best Christmas he had ever had.

His mind was quickly beginning to think of plans, particularly plans to try and find out about Nicholas Flamel. There were also the pranks he could play on other students, particularly Draco Malfoy.

They had gone on to eating all the sweets they had been given and joking around.

Tap, Tap, Tap. Caw. Caw.

They unexpectedly turned around to find a crow sitting at the windowsill. It looked like it was carrying something.

"A crow?" inquired Harry, "I didn't know you could send things by crow."

"Hmm… I haven't heard of anyone being sent anything by crow other than a death notification," said Ron, "People who send presents or general letters by black birds are really quite odd but that's according to Mum."

"We better see what it is and who it is for."

They opened up the window to let the crow in. With unusual strength for a bird its size, it lifted a stack of five books packaged together by string into the room. Ron picked up a piece of parchment placed at the top.

"It's for you Harry."

"For real?"

Ron handed him the card and written in typewriter font was 'To Harry Evans.' That was all, there was no clue as to who the giver was or wishing of Merry Christmas.

"They are quite odd," Ron concluded based on this.

Harry however took one look at the stack of books and gasped with excitement. Somebody had known exactly what books he had wanted, all the latest edition of series he was reading. He had no idea as to who would have known him so well. It was a very thoughtful (though creepily intrusive) gesture.

"They are exactly what I've been saving up my money for when I was with the Dursleys."

"Who do you think would know?"

"I don't know, I've never told anyone. Is it possible to read minds in the wizarding world?"

"I don't know."

Caw.

They turned to realise that the crow was still there. An owl would have flown away a while ago. It crooked its head at them and looked at them in a pleased way that Harry thought was impossible for birds to mimic. Ron began to shoo it away. It promptly flew out of the window and disappeared into the snowy sky.

Hogwarts at night was very different to Hogwarts during the day. The usual enigmatic and mystical vibrance that was present during daylight was replaced by something more sinister. It was as if the place was engulfed by dark menacing shadow. Harry felt like the castle had slowly accumulated deep, dark secrets over the centuries.

He now regretted his decision to skip out of bed to try and find information about Nicolas Flamel in the restricted section in the library. So far he had only picked up a book that had started screaming at him as soon as he opened it, which attracted the likes of Argus Filtch. Filtch had the pleasure of patrolling the corridors at night, making sure that there were no students out of bed. Harry had managed to avoid him by slim chance and not to mention invisibility.

As he made his way through the corridors at night, he was struggling not to trip over his invisibility cloak. In his attempt to avoid Filtch, he had become lost. He was now in an odd room that only contained a large mirror. Curiosity drew him further to have a closer look.

It was old and dusty like everything else in the unused classroom. Prompted against the wall, it looked like something that didn't belong there; something that was merely placed here to be put out of the way. Inscribed on the top of the frame was; 'Erised stra ehru oyt ube cafru oyt on wohsi'. It was like another language but of what language he had no idea, maybe it was just gibberish.

What he saw in the mirror was more captivating. Standing beside him was a beautiful young woman with long red hair and green eyes the same as his. Her face lit up when she saw him, as if she couldn't get enough of the sight of him, but she seemed so sad. It was as if life had been hard on her and broken her spirit. His heart raced, he was seeing his mother for the first time - he hadn't even seen pictures of her. She was covered in black from head to toe, dressed sensibly and eccentric. She didn't look like a prostitute at all, just different. His aunt was doubtless lying about her all this time.

On the other side of him was another woman, she seemed to be middle aged or just looked older because she wasn't very beautiful. She was dark haired and had a sullen look on her face. She was also extremely pleased to see him and was crying a little out of happiness. Harry assumed that she was either an aunt or other female relative of his father's side of the family. Perhaps she was his grandmother but had died young.

There were also an older couple who looked like they could have been his muggle grandparents. His grandfather and grandmother were wearing clothes commonplace for the seventies. They were also happy to see him - his grandmother was even nodding her head in approval. They looked like lovely, friendly people. He remembered Aunt Petunia mentioning that her parents died in a car accident. Whether this was true or not was questionable, she did lie about his mother's death.

He spent hours just looking at them, wishing that his dead family would be alive with him on the other side of the mirror and not merely looking in. Never-the-less, he returned back to the Gryffindor common room to sleep when he felt too tired.

The next night Harry decided to take Ron to see the mirror.

"Do you see them? Do you see my family?" Harry said with excitement.

Ron just stood there with his mouth open.

"No, I'm alone. But I'm different - I'm head boy."

"What?"

"I am – I'm wearing the badge like Bill use to and I'm holding both the House Cup and Quidditch Cup too. I'm the Quidditch captain! Harry, do you think this mirror shows the future?"

"How can it? My family is dead."

The night after that Harry went to the mirror again, though alone. He couldn't get enough of seeing his family. His mother was pleased to see him back and the sullen woman brightened up merely at the sight of him. There was nothing to stop him spending the entire night here. Nothing at all.

"So – back again Harry?

Harry jolted and turned to find Albus Dumbledore standing behind him. He had never quite seen the headmaster in his entire entirety. His long robes and long silvery beard reminded Harry of the typical wizards of fairytales, fantasy novels and cartoons.

"How did you come here? I didn't see you come in." Harry inquired.

"Strange how near-sighted being invisible can make you," Dumbledore stated ambiguously, "There are other ways of becoming invisible."

"Professor Dumbledore, what does this mirror do?"

"I'll give you a clue - the happiest man in the world would look into the mirror and see nothing but his own reflection."

"So it shows us our desires?"

Dumbledore nodded, "It shows nothing more and nothing less than the deepest desires of our hearts. This mirror show neither truth nor fact. Men have wasted away before it, not knowing if what they have seen is real, or even possible. Many have gone mad.

"That is why the Mirror will be moved to a new home tomorrow, Harry, and I ask you not to go looking for it again. If you ever do run across it, you will now be prepared. It does not do to dwell on dreams and forget to live."

Harry thought about this, it seemed profound. It was a while before Harry spoke again.

"Sir, I don't see any father or grandfather in this picture. Was James Potter really my father?"

"No," Dumbledore said gently, "He is not your father but don't worry about that. It is the heart that what makes real family, not nature. Your living family have not made much contribution to your life - so far."

Harry instantly understood what he meant, "Sir, I'm really sorry to have to ask you this, but was my mother really a whore?"

Dumbledore shook his head, "Your mother was one of the bravest women I've ever had the privilege of knowing. She was wonderful, pure and took excellent care of the people she loved."

To an eleven year old Harry, this meant that his mother was not what he feared. There was a small silence, a good and comforting silence. He was pleased to know that Dumbledore was not angry with him.

"Professor?"

"Yes, Harry?"

"What do you see when you look in the mirror?"

Dumbledore looked at him and smiled, "I see myself holding a new pair of socks. I never get any new socks, people always insist on giving my books. Now I think it is time for you to go to back."

A/N: I know you all might be irritated with me for not revealing to Harry that Snape is his father. I've decided to leave that for later. Please be patience. I don't want to reveal it so early. So far, all Harry really knows is that Potter is not his actual father. The reason why Snape is not seen is because Harry wants to see his dead relatives rather than his living ones (aka The Dursleys). It goes back to his childhood wish of wanting an unknown relative to whisk him away from the Dursleys. (That's just what I've made up to explain myself.) You all can probably figure out who the sullen looking lady is. There aren't too many other relatives, especially on Severus' side of the family. Severus' mother was estranged from her pureblood fanatic relatives and his father had nothing to do with his life and therefore nothing to do with Harry's.

I tried to make this chapter as close to the novels as possible. Thank you for reading - reviews, follows and favourites are always welcome.