So, I've E-mailed the support team regarding my frozen traffic statistics problem, and they haven't responded yet. It really sucks, as I can't see the progress this story is making :( I really hope this issue or glitch or whatever it is will get fixed soo, and if any of you have any suggestions, please let me know.

Anyways, here's the next chapter. Enjoy!

Ch.26 - Sorrowful Discoveries.

Severus flung the moth-eaten velvet curtains open with his wand to reveal a large painting of Walburga Black. As soon as he'd done this, however, she began to shriek profanities at the top of her lungs, giving the heavy-lidded woman an inane appearance.

"...FILTHY BOOL-TRAITORS, SCUM OF THE EARTH, MUDBLOODS, CROOKED-NOSED—"

"Vocalis Diminisus Furanteur!" countered Severus in his baritone voice. The painted woman seemed to choke for a moment, a wild look in her crazed, black eyes, and then a small orb of yellow-ish light broke out of her mouth. It floated into Severs' ebony wand, and disappeared.

And Walburga Black could speak no more.

Harry stared at the wizard, mouth agape. "Seriously!? You could do that all along!?" he cried indignantly, remembering all those times the man had visited Grimmauld Place and could have done the same to the insufferable painting.

Severus shrugged. "Now, where would the fun have been in that?" he remarked innocently, but then turned serious. "It is a dark spell that rips the victim's vocal cords out, and stores them within the caster's wand. Said castor has the ability to return them to the victim…" Here, he turned to sneer somewhat smugly at the indignant-looking painted woman, "But that is left to their discretion."

Severus pursed his lips in thought, looking back down at Kreacher. His lip curled. "You must know how to remove the painting, elf. The Death Eaters were successful, which means they had either tortured the information out of you or they had cracked it themselves."

"Wait, but I thought there was a Permanent Sticking Charm on the thing," recalled Harry. "Aren't they supposed to be, well, you know, permanent? Even Mad-Eye had tried."

"Nothing in the world is permanent, Harry. Not even the strongest of spells, curses, charms, or jinxes. They all have loopholes, even the Permanent Sticking charm. In the world, there is balance, and this applies to magic firsthand," he lectured.

Harry filed this, marvelling at the Slytherin's wisdom. They had never been taught this at Hogwarts. As a matter of fact, he'd never even heard of it anywhere… But it did make sense, he supposed.

"Right. So, you think the Death Eaters have hidden something behind it?"

"Affirmative." He turned back to Kreacher inquiringly.

The old house elf shook his head, slowly backing away. "No... No… Wizards shall not touch Kreacher's poor mistress. Oh, no… What would poor mistress Black say to Kreacher if she could see him now.. No..No…"

"Kreacher, just tell us. Please?" prompted Harry, his own patience starting to run thin with the elf. "Those dark wizards hid something behind the painting, and we have to get it."

The creature shook his head. "Kreacher didn't see… only heard. A bad wizard said an incantation. Long, Latin…dark…"

Harry heard a weary sigh from behind him. He turned back to look at Severus, who was looking at the elf with a pinched expression, twirling his wand between his fingers. "I see no other option than to perform Legilimency on you again. Forgotten memories are harder to access, but it isn't impossible."

"Wait, Severus, isn't there another way?" inquired Harry, suddenly concerned. "You've said it yourself that it's dangerous to use Legilimency on creatures… and after what's just—"

"Are you accusing me of incompetency, Mr. Potter," asked Severus cooly. Harry was unamused, however. The man sighed. "Whilst I appreciate the concern, there is little need for it. I am fully capable of withstanding the implications of my own decisions. Now, if you'll excuse me…" his dark gaze locked with the elf's, but at the same instant the creature bolted. He didn't get very far however, as Severus Levicorpus-ed him right back and bore his black eyes into his giant, round ones.

The minutes ticked by, Harry growing more and more nervous. It was taking much longer than last time. The scene still bothered Harry, the unfocussed look in the elf's and the man's eyes. Finally, the connection broke, but this time, Severus didn't even stumble before he crumpled to the dusty floor, his wand dropping and rolling away with a clank.

"SIR!"

Harry was at the man's side in an instant. Fortunately, he was still conscious, and Harry helped to prop him against the wall in spite of his weak protests. His breathing was laboured just like the previous time, and he kept his eyes closed.

"What can I do? Do you have a potion, or…?" rambled Harry frantically, unsure of how to help. But Severus managed to lift his hand and wave it in a dismissive gesture.

"I'm… Alright." He rasped out, slowly sitting himself more upright. "The counter spell… is… Perdere In Permanens. 'Infinity sign' wand movement clockwise. Go."

Harry regarded the man sceptically, but in the end figured he should obey. Severus just seemed out of breath, and on the mend. He turned back around to check up on Kreacher, only to discover that there was no trace of the elf. Well, that probably meant he was well enough to have scrammed away. He had half a mind to go looking for him, but remembered they were on a time limit.

Brandishing his own wand, Harry practised the wand movement for a second before performing it on the painting. Nothing happened for a second, but then its rim glowed in an emerald-green light, before fading away. The painted woman in it looked beyond herself as if on the verge of hyperventilation, but Harry paid her no mind.

Just then, he realised that Severus was back on his feet, standing beside him. Nodding approvingly at Harry, he waved his wand to remove the painting off the wall, turning it over mid-air to reveal the back. Indeed, several pieces of parchment were stuck to the back.

Muttering a few spells in Latin, the wizard gave the papers an approving nod and carefully removed them. With his head, he motioned for Harry to follow, and led them to the kitchen.

With his wand, he hovered and set them down on the long wooden table. Together, they began to examine their finds.

The biggest piece of paper was a muggle map of the United Kingdom. It had red ink markings all over it. Harry and Severus examined it with a sense of apprehension. There was a red 'X' on a spot in the centre of London, and another 'X' in the middle of the Forest of Dean. An area Harry recognized as where they currently were was circled red.

To Snape's evident surprise, the town of Cokeworth was also marked, and to Harry's Horror, so was Godric's Hollow. He felt a shiver run down his spine as he continued to examine the map. There were bits of writing here and there, saying things like 'Traitor's place' or 'Base A' and 'Plan 7'.

The most interesting aspects were probably all the red and black markings over the mountains of northwestern Scotland, many crossed out or scribbled over, making the paper look like Ron's Potions essay after grading.

Harry and Severus looked up at each other, concern and confusion in both their eyes. Neither knew what to say for a minute.

"This must be a map of either their bases, or places where they have plans to carry out in the near future," spoke Seveerus grimly. His eyes wandered back to the map. Harry was about to speak, when he saw the Slytherin's eyes widen.

"No…" he murmured quietly, running a hand through his hair, eyes fixed on a spot on the map. Harry followed his gaze to a red triangle marked on the North Sea, not too far from the shore of England. He frowned.

"Sir?" Harry asked tentatively.

"They're planning a breakout in Azkaban."

"What!? H—how can you be sure?"

Severus sighed, and looked up at Harry, his expression grim. "Have you any other explanation as to why a triangle would be marked, Potter? Azkaban is a staggering, three-sided tower in the middle of the North Sea. It's marked as 'Operation C'."

Harry went quiet. So the Death Eaters were planning something involving Azkaban? "But we've caught the ones that were here," Harry pointed out. Severus expelled a humourless laugh.

"Harry, their numbers are staggering. Just because five of them have been caught does not mean they don't have any other strongholds or headquarters."

Harry gulped. "We should tell Kingsley. He should put the Aurors on guard."

The older wizard nodded and moved the map aside, beginning to examine the other papers in the pile. Harry noted that these were pages that looked to have been ripped out of books. He walked over to stand beside Severus so that he didn't have to read the texts upside-down.

The pages, Harry realised with a shiver, were all about Dementors. The texts spoke of their origination, how they were bred, their abilities, and how to counter their effects. However, upon reading the last page, both wizards blanched at the circled text.

…Can be controlled by the means of a series of prohibited, dark spells…Opposite of the Patronus Charm…Leaving them undeterred and indestructible…

"They plan to carry out with the Dark Lord's old plan," Severus whispered, mostly to himself. A chill ran down Harry's spine for the umptieth time that hour.

"W-What plan?"

"The Dark Lord had once had an obsession with Dementors, specifically when he had been growing his army for the Second Wizarding War," he explained gravely, still staring down at the pages, leaning heavily against the table with his palms.

"And…you think they want to…go through with it?"

"They aren't the only ones who wish to 'finish what was started', Potter, if one puts it that way."

Gulping, Harry asked, "What was the plan?"

Severus scowled at the ripped out pages, a dark shadow momentarily flickering across his face. "Not many had been in on his plans, only a select few… myself included." He sighed. "HE had been researching ways to control the Demented creatures; to be their commander. Yes, HE had succeeded in winning them over to his side for the war, but only by having bribed them. He was…unsuccessful in discovering a means of actual control over a whole army of them, most fortunately. However, he had mentioned that he was looking for a source; a core that contained the absolute power of darkness…"

Harry groaned and leaned against the table with his elbows, putting his face in his hands, making his glasses slide upwards.

"Eloquently put, Mr. Potter," agreed the man with a sigh. A little firmer, he then pondered aloud. "Perhaps we should search the rest of the house. I have never particularly been to the upper stories. There is a significant chance that these pages had once belonged to some of the books that had been kept here."

Harry lowered his hands from his face and gingerly rubbed at his eyes. Adjusting his glasses, he nodded in agreement.

The two wizards made their way up stairs, Harry visibly cringing at the creaking floorboards, but sighing when he remembered that Mrs. Black's portrait had been shut up. He decided to start with the topmost floor, which just happened to have Sirius' old room.

Harry paused in front of Sirius' childhood bedroom. The last time he'd been in it, he had found the letter from Lily and photos of the Marauders. He knew he had searched the room well back then, but he couldn't help but feel as if there was a good chance of finding something with the x-ray spell.

Severus had also been in here…

Severus Snape had cried over the same letter from Lily that Harry had found later, only the man had taken the second page of it with him. He had also ripped a picture of James, little Harry, and Lily, so that he had only the half with Lily on it. He wondered if Severus still had them, but wasn't sure about asking the man.

With a deep breath, Harry turned the knob and walked in. The spacious room was just as he had left it last summer: a large bed with a carved headboard, a tall window with long velvet curtains, a candle chandelier, and some basic furniture pieces. The walls of the room were plastered with many pictures, and his room was decorated with Gryffindor banners and colours.

Harry walked in somewhat cautiously, taking in the room that had once belonged to his late godfather. An instant feeling of guilt threatened to wash over him, but he swallowed it.

Taking his wand out, Harry cast the curtains apart, so that the daylight would light the room. The bright rays of sunlight lit the tiny dust particles in the air, creating a melancholy ambience. Next, Harry muttered the X-ray Spell. The world around him instantly became gridded and green-grey tinted.

The curious Gryffindor began looking around the room. The walls were opaque, but the pictures didn't show in his vision anymore. To Harry's dismay, wherever he looked, there appeared to be no hidden compartments in the room. He searched the chest of drawers, the wardrobe, even under the mattress of the bed; but found nothing. There were no bookshelves in the room, but Harry had also been hopeful to find something akin to the letter from his mum, like last time.

He was just about to turn to leave in slight disappointment, when something caught his eyes. The huge Gryffindor plaque hanging on the wall was, too, opaque… except for its middle, which was in a light grid. It was barely noticeable, hence why Harry hadn't spotted it before.

Hopeful with excitement, Harry cancelled the X-ray spell with his wand, and walked over to the plaque. He tried removing it the muggle way from the wall, but it wouldn't budge.

What is it with this place and Permanent Sticking Charms?

But it didn't make any sense; why would Sirius have made the plaque completely unremovable if it had a secret compartment behind it? Unless…

Harry suddenly had an idea. It was probably a long shot, but definitely worth a try. Sirius had been, after all, a proud Gryffindor.

For five minutes straight, Harry spoke different names, terms, words, phrases...Anything that Sirius could've used as a password for the plaque, just like the portrait of the Fat Lady guarding the entrance to Gryffindor Tower. Sure, he could use that spell he'd used on Walburga Black's portrait, but he thought it would be disrespectful to Sirius's memory.

Harry was growing irritated quickly. He'd already tried his parents' names, Dumbledore, Hogwarts, anything associated with Gryffindor...He'd even tried 'Snivelous' for Merlin's sake! Yet, nothing made the plaque budge.

Harry was just about to give up, when a last resort came to mind. Praying that it worked, Harry said, "I solemnly swear that I am up to no good," and held his breath.

His heart gave a leap of excitement when the Gryffindor plaque slowly swung aside, revealing a small square hole in the wall. Heart racing slightly, Harry reached inside with his hand. The first thing he felt was a few small square pieces of smooth paper, so he decided to take those out first.

Harry's breath got caught in his throat when he saw that the small paper squares were pictures of Lily, James and baby Harry. The pictures were magical ones, meaning that they moved.

The first picture was of Lily playing with baby Harry in a room that appeared to be the nursery. Another picture was of James and Harry curled up and sleeping on a plush couch in front of a fireplace, James' glasses slightly askew.

The final picture in Harry's hands was of his mum sitting with her knees drawn up in a plush armchair with what looked like a small sketchbook in her lap, and appeared to be in the middle of drawing something with her pencil.

Harry was oblivious to the hot streaks of tears pouring down his cheeks. His mind felt slightly numb, and there was a burning ache in his chest. These pictures were priceless to him; they were exactly what he'd been hopeful to find, and find them he did.

He wondered now, more than ever, what his life could have been like, had there been no Voldemort. His mum was sketching in that last photo, right? So, did that mean that she was artistically inclined? Would she have taught Harry to draw?

Harry could remember his occasional doodling in Binns' History of Magic classes, and they left much to be desired. In fact, Ron would often challenge Harry who could draw an uglier version of Snape.

Pocketing the pictures worth more than gold, Harry reached with his hand inside the compartment in the wall, and pulled out a sheet of parchment. Its edges were slightly old and tattered, but other than that it was in good condition.

Turning the parchment over to the written side, Harry's knees buckled of their own volition when he instantly recognized Lily Potter's handwriting.

25th October, 1981

Padfoot,

How are you holding up? We haven't heard from you in awhile. I do hope you're doing alright in your parents' house in London. Moony had visited a couple of days ago, and had spent some time playing with Harry; said he needed a 'mood lift', since the previous night was a full moon. Harry loves him, I can tell. Moony is great with children, and I even suggested he apply to be a professor at Hogwarts. Of course, he refused because of his 'hairy problem'.

James and I have been discussing a certain matter regarding Harry. Our dear boy already has you as his godfather, but I cannot help but feel paranoid. This is a war, after all, and things happen. I was considering assigning Harry another godparent, but Moony is, sadly, out of the question. I wouldn't entrust Harry with Petunia even if she were the last person alive on this planet, and Wormtail has been very distant lately, probably preoccupied. The Longbottoms are a good option, but they are already quite preoccupied with their son. I have one more person in mind… though James had almost cursed when I told him who. He said he would think about it, but it's not like we have many other options.

Before I tell you, just know that I've had a while to think this over. Dumbledore would probably be against it, but I know that this person would never let harm befall Harry.

The person I have in mind is…

But the name there was scribbled over with an unhealthy amount of ink, making it impossible to read.

Lots of love,

Lily.

numbing shock and grief coursed through Harry. His hands were clammy and his body trembled and his vision blurred, any attempts to stop the tears now rapidly flowing down his face in vain. He didn't bother wiping them away, though. The world around him felt muted, and Harry didn't register the smooth, deep voice addressing him from the doorway.

Harry continued to silently cry, oblivious to the other presence in the room. It hurt him to know just how much his parents had cared for him, to have wanted to take extra precautions so that Harry wouldn't end up with Lily's sister, only to be taken from him by Voldemort. It was unfair. Unjust and unfair!

And who had his mum had in mind to make Harry's other godfather? Why had Sirius scribbled over it? Was that person bad?

Harry was so consumed in his grief that he was only half aware that there was someone kneeling on the floor beside him, reading the same letter as he had.

A few silent moments passed, and then Harry felt a warm hand rest on his right shoulder, giving it a light, but comforting squeeze. Harry knew, without a doubt, that the only other person in the house was Snape, and slightly stiffened at the touch. He squeezed his eyes shut, silently praying for the tears to go away. But as the silence stretched on, he felt himself relaxing at the reassuring touch, and even leaning into it just a bit.

In the back of his mind, Harry was absolutely mortified to have Snape see him having a breakdown… no doubt that the man probably thought him weak. He would have expected Severus to ridicule him for crying like a twelve-year-old, but never for the man to offer comfort.

There was a quietly-mumbled "Scribbulus Revelio!" and then a gasp. Through his tear-blurred vision, Harry finally saw the name of whom Lily Potter had wished to make his godfather.

(…)person I have in mind is Severus Tobias Snape.

Harry's jaw went slack, a tidal wave of conflicted feelings and emotions raging within him in a hurricane. First and foremost was shock and disbelief, as the implied person was probably the last one Harry would have ever guessed. Then there was a mix of sadness, relief, and hope for something that never happened. There was sorrow over something that could have been. But also sudden happiness at the realisation that said person was still alive and well, sitting on the same dusty floor as he was.

And dread at what Severus' thoughts on the revelation were.

He was at a loss for what to do or say as he simply stared down at his mum's handwriting. It hurt him deeply to know that Sirius had kept this from him all that time. Had his prejudice against Severus really been so strong that it had overruled Harry? Why would he keep something like this from him? The thought seemed almost unbearable.

Had he even cared?

And then, Harry broke down in full, the weight of everything too heavy for him. In his subconscious, he was aware that Severus was still there, witnessing his emotional there was nothing he could do about it, and he continued to cry in earnest, tears of grief and sorrow pooling on the floor.

However, after a couple of minutes, he could have sworn he heard a sniffle from his right. It took Harry by surprise, and then he felt that familiar hand rest on his shoulder, squeezing it comfortingly. A sudden warm feeling enveloped Harry, the small gesture meaning the world to him. It was in that moment that he realised that he truly wasn't alone in his grief, and Harry found solace in that.

Even over the course of them hating each other for seven years, Harry and Severus had always shared one major thing in common: their love for Lily Potter-Evans, a remarkable mother and friend.

As Harry reflected on this, he realised that he really could trust Severus Snape, who was currently experiencing the same pain, grief and remorse as he was, exposing his most vulnerable, humane side.

With a newfound level of trust and respect for the man beside him, Harry took a second to recompose himself, cleared his throat, and said clearly, "Let's end what was started, sir. Together."

Next chapter on the weekend!