This story takes place in an AU in which Harry learns Snape's history with his mother without him dying.

"Page 42 will give instructions on how to increase and decrease the potency of all potions that include bear claw," Snape said, pacing the room as his students stood sweating over boiling cauldrons. "Use that information carefully and you may just be able to get this one right." He strode around, peering over the shoulders of each student to gauge how they were doing.

Harry stood over his cauldron, a look of frustration on his face as he cut the root he was trying to add to his cauldron. "Damn!" he whispered under his breath as he restarted each time after the potion refused to take his cuts. He looked around the room, watching multiple others struggle with the same issue. The class was advanced potions, and it seemed to him that its content was living up to its name. He wiped the sweat from his forehead and grabbed a new root to cut. He studied the text book, searching for alternatives to his previous methods. He wiped off the knife and turned back to begin to cut it again.

"Vertical cuts, Mr. Potter," a voice mumbled quietly behind him.

Harry turned around to see Professor Snape, standing behind him and watching carefully.

"Vertical," he repeated.

Harry responded, "Thank you, professor." Before quickly turning back, making several vertical cuts along the root. He added them to the cauldron, perfectly completing the potion.

It had been nearly two weeks since Professor McGonagall confided in Harry about the history between his mother and his professor. She explained to him that, despite his mothers passing, and roughly eighteen years, he had never taken interest in another soul. Naturally, Harry was shocked, having believed all along that Snape's attitude towards him was either malicious or some form of humbling. A few days after processing this information, he confronted his professor.

"Professor?" Harry called softly, walking to Snape's desk after everyone else had filed out of the room.

"Yes, Mr. Potter?" Snape's head was down, reading from a piece of parchment that he was holding.

Harry had paused for a moment, gathering his thoughts, and preparing himself. "I've recently spoken with Professor McGonagall. She gave me some information I was hoping I could discuss with you."

It became clear that the professor had stopped reading, though he was still in the position as though he was. "Go on."

"Sir, she informed me that you were very close with my mother."

He stood up and slowly walked across the room, looking out the window. "How much did she tell you?" He asked slowly, vocally not letting on to his discomfort, but physically allowing it to just barely show.

"I believe she told me everything."

He still refused to look at Harry, thus letting on further to his discomfort. "I see." He waited a moment before he turned and returned to his desk, sitting down and finally facing him. "And you have come here to," he paused once more, "mock me? Interrogate me?" He asked, never fluctuating from his relatively monotone, yet somewhat voluptuous tone of voice.

"No, professor, not at all," Harry had begun, quickly trying to cover himself. "I would just really love to know more about her," he finally sat down in the chair that sat to the side of Snape's desk. "It seems you're one of the only people who knew her that well aside from my father."

Harry had described the conversation as one of the most uncomfortable experiences in his life. Despite that, Snape had agreed to meet with Harry after classes briefly to tell him as much as he could about his late mother. While uncomfortable to start, each meeting became slightly less so. Harry was desperate to learn more about his family, aside from what they were know for; their deaths. He listened to his professor's stories and tried to imagine what he would do in certain circumstances. Snape became more comfortable as he finally had an outlet to discuss his memories of Lily. The two were bonding over her late memory.

It had gotten to a point where each of them started to look forward to their meetings. Harry couldn't help but let go of most of his past anger. Now, Snape was helping him with his potions. They both seemed a bit confused by their new relationship, but neither thought to question it.

"Well done," the professor said, looking at Harry's potion. He remarked about each of the students' final products, many of which were failed do to improper use of the root the professor had helped Harry with.

Class ended and the room cleared. Snape stood at the door, watching each student leave. In the meantime, Harry seated himself at the front of the desk. Snape turned around after the last of them were gone, shutting the door. Harry watched the door shut heavily. It was so ornate; a fact which never ceased to amaze Harry despite his years at the school. The difference between his life before and his life now was incredible, and he couldn't seem to shake it.

"I was thinking about something for the past few days. I've been eager to share this one with you," the professor remarked, not making anytime for a transition or greeting. "I believe it was the summer before our first year, because your mother was having a falling out with her sister," he paused. "Jealousy likely drove it. Petunia was a wretched little thing anyway."

Harry laughed shortly. "Not much has changed."

Snape rolled his eyes. "She was about to –," he was cut off as an owl flew in the window and dropped a letter right in front of him.

He picked it up and read it. "Wonderful," he remarked sarcastically. He turned to Harry. "This will have to be put on hold. I have a mandatory meeting in ten minutes."

"Not much notice," Harry responded.

"It never is." He tossed the envelope aside and looked at Harry. "We can continue this after next class."

Before he thought twice, Harry blurted out "you could tell me over dinner tonight."

Snape looked up at him immediately. Harry's heart jumped a bit. "Wh-"

"That didn't come out how I meant it," Harry said quickly, cutting Snape off from questioning him. "I just meant I am very interested in hearing this story, and it is a Friday so I don't have class for a few days. Obviously you're very busy, though, so I would love to pick this up next class." Embarrassed, Harry went to stand up.

"There's a room a few halls down from the Slytherin Common Room. Would you like to meet there at seven?" Snape asked, his gaze once again away from Harry.

Harry was taken aback at first, but smiled slightly. "That would be fine. I'll see you then, professor." He struggled to hold back the grin that was forming on his lips as he stood up and opened the door. He walked back to his dormitory to put his things away.