by Yih

Beta'd: Blackumbrage (formerly Blackumbridge), it's her AIM too ;p. 

Important Note: Background information about Harry Potter's (i.e. Professor Sebastian Biggerstaff) 9 years in the AU are available in the first two parts of the Paradox series: Harry Potter and the Mirror of Paradox and Harry Potter and the Extent of Existence. I would heavily suggest reading at least the Mirror of Paradox (info. on Sahar and the history of Sebastian Biggerstaff) and the last chapter of the Extent of Existence (relates the paradox history that Harry's determined to change) to get a full clue of what's going on. This can be read as a standalone, but since the background story is available… why don't you read it?  A major change in this… this will feature both HP/DM and HP/SS. 

Part 1: Harry Potter and the Mirror of Paradox (complete)--- beta'd by Serra and Blackumbrage
Part 2: Harry Potter and the Extent of Existent (incomplete)--- beta'd by Blackumbrage

Part 3 of the Paradox Series

Chapter 1: The Start

BOOKS were thrown into bags. Parchments were grabbed and tucked underneath arms. Feet slipped into shoes as they swung their book bags over their shoulders and started running frantically toward the class they were in the dreadful predilection of being tardy for. If there was one class that they should not be late for--- it was this one.

"I told you," she gasped and grumbled down the long hallway at a run, "and told you several times… not to…. put off Professor Biggerstaff's assignments! They take more… more than… lunch break to finish, Ron Weasley!"

"I know, I know!" he shouted then sucked in a needy breath. "Bloody hell, I know that!"

"Then why didn't you do it earlier then?!" she cried out. "Now we're going to be late… and it's all your fault!"

Ron scowled and would have made a retort except they had arrived in front of the classroom not only with a need to fill their lungs with oxygen but also to the presence of a frowning Professor Biggerstaff. Bugger, Ron thought bleakly. He'd already gotten a detention earlier this week for turning in 'shoddy' homework. That'd been the main reason behind borrowing Hermione's work today, so that he'd not get himself landed with Filch again for not doing a good job on his homework! Sod it! It was only homework! And trying to avoid getting a detention might actually land him another one. Grrr!

It wasn't like this bloody class was important anyhow, he thought bitterly. For crying out loud, it was a class on medimagic! What practical use was this to wizards or even witches that in all likelihood would not be going into the field of mediwizardry? And of course, Hermione being who she was insisted on taking the hellish class and he'd been snapped along with her under the foolish hope that a new Professor would mean easy markings. No such lovely luck.

"Tardy again, Weasley?" their Professor queried with a wry though displeased edge. Ron nodded his head stiffly. Biggerstaff's eyes soon shifted away from the redhead and landed instead on Hermione. "Granger, I would expect better from you as you are the Head Girl. As the Head Girl, you're suppose to set an example to other students. Running down the hallways and arriving late to class is not what I consider exemplary behavior."

She flushed a cherry red. "I realize that, sir."

"No detention this time," Biggerstaff murmured, "but points will have to be taken. I'd say 5 for each of you would be fair." He raised his eyebrow as if daring them to challenge him. They knew better than to. It was reasonable for him to take points. It was would be unfair to others if he didn't. "No complaints? Then stop standing there doing nothing. There's a lot of material we have to cover today and you two have wasted enough of my time."

Ron waited. He waited until Professor Biggerstaff was out of earshot before he cursed softly, "What a prick. What a sodding prick! I almost prefer Snape, the greasy git, to that prickly arse."

"He's fair," Hermione whispered back without the least bit of rancor. "He's definitely not a prick. What do you have against him?"

Before Ron could even dare to answer her, they both jumped when they heard their Professor's voice carry from inside the classroom: "Are you two coming in or do I have to take more points off from you to discourage you from interrupting my class again?"

They scrambled into the room, not bothering to say anything more to each other. They had already lost enough points as it was. And not only that, they were guaranteed to lose more points through the lesson. If only Biggerstaff would call on Hermione, then they stood a chance of not coming out with a deficit of points. But no, the sadistic prick never chose Hermione because he knew that she knew the material. No, he always called on the students that were in suspect of reading the material--- like him.

It wasn't the calling on him that grated his nerves; it was that the fucking Professor took off points if he got the answer wrong! Just his luck that Hermione thought it was a brilliant motivational skill. It also meant that everyone learned to do the work and made sure to comprehend it. It wasn't enough to read the bloody stuff, they had to understand it too! Then what the hell was a Professor for?!

"Since Weasley has deemed us worthy of his presence," Biggerstaff began caustically, amused smiles appearing on the Slytherin half of the room, "perhaps he'd like to deem us with the answer to the Question of the Day?"

Ron gritted his teeth together. This was a deliberate provocation. He didn't know how much more of it he could stand. It was getting to the point he almost hated it more than Potions. He didn't think he could ever almost despise a class more than Potions. He simply didn't understand why Professor Biggerstaff picked on him. It didn't help either that Hermione sympathized with the git!

The nerve of her to even think to suggest that it was his fault! Not every student was like her, reading up 'til the late hours of the night for the sole reason to impress a gitty Professor with her knowledge of his chosen field of expertise! If he didn't know better, he would think that Hermione had a crush on Professor Biggerstaff. But she didn't--- she couldn't. It was unthinkable! She was his girlfriend, and besides… it was improper and Hermione, if she was anything besides a brain, she was proper.

Proper and pushy, he reflected resentfully as he rubbed his sore side where Hermione's elbow had jabbed him hard. "If you would like me to," he muttered, "I will, but I can assure you that others will be able to answer you more thoroughly than I will."

Professor Biggerstaff's eyes were not cold like Snape's but nor were they illuminating with warmth like the Headmaster's. His eyes were intense though. Deep and thoughtful and overpowering. Ron hated looking into Biggerstaff's eyes, if he could help it. But he couldn't look away, not when the Professor was speaking to him--- especially if he didn't want to lose anymore points than he'd already lost for Gryffindor.

"It seems Weasley has failed to do the reading again for the class," Biggerstaff stated lightly. "What does this make it? The third time in a week? Whatever will you do, Weasley," he commented dryly, "if you never do any work? Do you expect to filch off your family or," his eyes shifted to rest on Granger, "your girlfriend for the extent of your existence?"

A direct slap to the face. Bravo Professor!, Ron wanted to scream but he didn't. It would only cause more point loss and would only aggravate Hermione even more. For some inane reason, she liked Professor Biggerstaff. This was, which he totally didn't understand, her favorite class. She was even talking about possibly taking up an apprenticeship with Biggerstaff at the end of the term, if he would allow her to do so. Why anyone would want to spend anymore time with the strict and overly meticulous Professor was beyond him. The only option worse than Biggerstaff was Snape.

"I did read."

"Then prove it," his Professor challenged. "Answer the question." His wand pointed to the board. "If you read, you will know it."

The problem was he had trouble understanding what was going in the class now because he hadn't been paying attention earlier on. He had no grasp on medimagic theory. He was utterly lost, and even looking at Hermione's notes didn't do him any good. They had already gone into such deep waters that it was amazing since they'd only been taking the class for little over a semester. The amount of topics they'd covered was more than he'd ever learned in the years he'd been in Divinations, not that that class had anything to compare to Mediwizardry.

"I didn't understand what I read!" he shouted, his cheeks flushed and burning. He could feel the Slytherins' superiority looking down on him. Hermione was right. He was too emotional. He said things that he shouldn't, like this--- saying what was on his mind before he really thought about it. Invariably, it meant that he said stupid things.

"Good," Biggerstaff remarked, shocking almost everyone, "admitting your mistake is the first step to correcting it. That is an essential concept in medimagic. If a mediwizard or any wizard never admitted their mistakes, then how could anyone ever fix them?"

THE day was done for them, Harry through ruefully, but it was far from over for him. He had a stack of essays to grade from each of his 3 classes. His upper level class would be a breeze since there were only a handful of students in it. It was his lower levels that he worried about. They weren't paying as much attention as medimagic theory required. Rubbing his temples, trying desperately to erase the headache that was threatening to force him to go down to the dungeons to get a potion from Severus.

He drummed his fingers against his desk as he summoned his red quill into his hand. As much as he hated having to mark all over his students' essays, even Herminoe's wasn't up to standards half the time. It was going to be hard, but if he did manage to whip them all into shape--- and managed to instill in them the basis of hard work, then maybe not all would be lost. If he managed to get a few good mediwizards and mediwitches out of this, all the better.

The first paper was Ron's. As usual, it was a messy parchment with ink stains riddled all over it. You'd think he'd take the care, considering he'd copied Hermione's work, to do a good job of copying it. But even in that, Ron failed miserably. Harry had no choice but to give him an F. Ron ought to be grateful he hadn't given him a Troll. A T would be almost impossible to make up midway through the semester with the grades Ron had already received from him.

He sighed and moved on. This time he almost smiled when he saw Hermione's paper. It was always interesting to read what her theories where on medimagic theory. Her arguments were always well thought out, even if they weren't always right. Then again, the class he was teaching was in no way as intensive as the training regimen that Poppy had put him through for him to pass his MEDs. If he was lucky… he might have one or even two apprentices to take next year to train them exclusively for their MEDs.

Hermione, he was sure would jump at the chance. He always thought of her as more of a Transfiguration and Charms type, but it was to his pleasant surprise that she showed such a great aptitude in medimagic. With the war that was about to burst full blown, they needed all the trained mediwitches they could get. The only concern he had was that her raw power wasn't up to standard. She was a brilliant theorist, but in terms of raw ability--- she wasn't going to be one of the more powerful mediwitches.

It was her potions ability and her natural empathy that was going to get her through the difficult MEDs, not to mention her innate persistence and penchant for not failing in anything she did. It didn't surprise him that Hermione was a better empathic than he was. Girls were naturally more inclined to that, which was why some of the best in the field of medimagic were mediwitches. But it would be a bugger if he had to wait for her majority. It probably wouldn't come for 3 years. The youngest witch he'd known was Sahar and she'd hit majority at 19. And the Hermione in his world hadn't hit majority 'til she was 22.

But… for witches the magical growth was gradual and not quite as sudden of a switch as it was for wizards, which was why the age of majority wasn't quite as important for a witch as it was for a wizard. That was a good thing. He was hoping that Hermione might be ready when she was 20 or even when she was 19 to take the MEDs. That was what he hoped. He sighed and marked her essay an A. It wasn't her best work. Hopefully, his best student wouldn't disappoint him.

Aww… he truly smiled as he read the excellently written essay. Always meticulous, wasn't Draco? It surprised him a bit, but not really considering what his former best friend had been in the other world--- the Head Boy. He was here too, along with Hermione as Head Girl. Some things didn't change no matter if the two worlds were totally different. But he had never once imagined the Draco of his former world ever as mediwizard. Here though, Draco was brilliant, as brilliant of a student to him as he probably had been to Poppy.

Draco had the raw power, not as much as his own, but he more than made up for it with his empathy. If he hadn't known how deeply the Malfoys felt, then he would have laughed years ago. But he knew, he knew how deeply a Malfoy's feelings went. The only barrier to Draco was that his potions skills could use a bit of work, and Harry was sure that he could recruit Severus for it. After all, Severus wasn't Draco's godfather here for naught.

It was with fierce pride that he marked an O on Draco's paper. As much as he missed his best friend, he wasn't unhappy with the change that this Draco was showing from the Draco he'd known. It especially made him happy, considering what a prat that he knew this Draco to be from his past experience. How a year could change a person, and… how different a person could be when treated differently.

Look at what had happened to him, Harry mused, when Sev hadn't been on his back all the time--- he'd blossomed into a Potions Master. And here Draco was turning into a brilliant mediwizard, not that it was surprising at all--- considering that Draco was the only wizard of his age over there that could match him anywhere in power. Now the only problem lie therein was how to reconcile both Draco and Hermione that he wanted and needed them both…

HE wanted nothing more than to become Professor Biggerstaff's apprentice. There was something about Biggerstaff that made him an excellent teacher. He drove knowledge into your head if you were receptive too it, unlike some Gryffindors, Draco thought spitefully. Ron Weasley wasted time in class by being there. Why he was, Draco had no fucking clue. Probably sniffing after his mudblood girlfriend.

Draco shrugged away the negative thoughts about all Gryffindors in general and concentrated on being neutral to them. If there was one thing that was a huge peeve with Professor Biggerstaff, it was the House prejudices. Draco supposed that Professor Biggerstaff couldn't understand it since he hadn't gone to Hogwarts for his schooling. But whatever, he wasn't going to piss off his Professor and risk losing his chance at an apprenticeship. He knew only one person that stood in his way--- Hermione.

She was as brilliant as he was in the class. He thought he had more natural aptitude in the practical portion than she did, but her grasp on theory was undeniable. And it didn't help him that her potions ability was far superior to his. He would need to get his godfather to work on that for him, though he didn't quite know how to go about asking Severus to help him become an apprentice to someone else. Everyone had always assumed that he would be Severus's first apprentice.

It was all Biggerstaff's fault, Draco reflected without the least bit of malice, that he happened to be so fucking gorgeous. It was definitely his Professor's fault for getting him so enraptured into mediwizardry. There was something so natural about it. When he thought about explaining it to his father, Draco felt the insane urge to curse in the four different languages that he knew how to speak. That still didn't get across the message of dread he felt.

Malfoys had always been Dark Wizards… never in the thousands of years they had existed had a Malfoy ever been a mediwizard. It went against everything they stood for because the healing gift was inherently not a Dark Art. True being a mediwizard didn't mean you were a light wizard, look at Morgaine, but it certainly didn't favor being an evil wizard or serving a dementedly evil wizard either.

Draco didn't understand what his father saw in serving the Dark Lord. He liked to believe that his father was only doing this because it was good for his family. But he couldn't be absolutely certain anymore. There was so much Lucius hid from him and his mother that it was tearing his mother apart. If Draco didn't know that his father loved his mother to the ends of the Earth, he would have cursed his father for hurting his mother.

He sighed and knocked his hand strongly against the hard wooden door. He could feel the powerful wards that Professor Biggerstaff had placed on them and he waited patiently for the painting of a basilisk to alert the Professor that Draco Malfoy was waiting outside for him. Why he had come here, Draco didn't have a clue. He didn't need help in medimagic like most of the class did. He was only a point or two behind the mudblood witch… so why was he here?

Because he wanted to get to know Professor Biggerstaff and he wanted to make his Professor see that he was the best one for the apprenticeship. Him not Hermione. She could have her pick with apprenticeships, she suited either Charms or Transfiguration, even Arithmancy or Potions. He… he knew his only chances were Potions or this… Medimagic.

The portrait flicked his tail and the door opened, allowing Draco passage into the Professor's personal rooms. He entered with trepidation, knowing that his Professor was a very private man and he was disturbing him. But he had gone to Biggerstaff's office only to find that the Professor was gone and Biggerstaff hadn't been in the Great Hall during dinner either. He hadn't had a choice!

"You are lucky I am in a good mood today, Malfoy," Biggerstaff greeted him sharply but not unpleasantly, not unpleasantly at all as Draco took in the sight of his Professor dressed only in tight trousers that highlighted his lean body perfectly. It pleased Draco to note that Biggerstaff was not any taller than he was, and in a few more months he'd be taller than his Professor if the Malfoy genes held true. "Sit down."

Draco sat down and was all too happy to arrange his robes in such a manner that it wouldn't give away his growing erection. Damn it, why was his Professor so bloody sexy? Draco gulped and it was hard to tear his eyes away from the muscled chest that was decorated with a moderate helping of curly dark brown hair that disappeared into his trousers. Instead, Draco's eyes moved upward to admire his Professor's startlingly handsome face.

His crooked nose only helped to make Biggerstaff's beauty more masculine and less girlish, especially with his lusciously kissable lips and high, distinctive cheekbones. Draco stifled a groan as he saw the terrible amusement dancing in Biggerstaff's deep blue eyes, eyes that he thought he could drown in. While his hair was an ordinary shade of brown, the fact he grew it out long so that it almost covered his eyes and fell past his ears gave him a mysterious look--- like he had something to hide.

And his body… Draco twitched in his seat to give his painful hard-on a more comfortable position. God if he had to get up now, he'd be acutely embarrassed. Think of anything. Think of the mudblood and the Weasel together. Think of Dumbledore and McGonagall together. Think of Filch and any bloody person. That did it. He could feel his erection losing some of its aching feeling.

"Why are you here, Malfoy? Students aren't typically out and about this late," Biggerstaff began with a wry voice, his eyes glancing toward the clock on the wall that said for students 'homework time' and for him 'grading time.' "Even if you are well within your rights as the Head Boy to be roaming the hallways in search of the stragglers that might be up to some mischief."

"I…" Draco stumbled, feeling like an utter idiot, "I just wanted to talk to you."

"Talk to me?" Biggerstaff murmured. "About what?"

Draco blushed a slight pink, mortified. "I don't know."

"You know," Biggerstaff stated knowingly, "but I won't press you. However, since you're here I guess I do have something to tell you that will save me the time of having to send you an official owl tomorrow." Draco's breath hitched… it couldn't be… could it? "Mr. Draco Black Malfoy, would you do me the honor in considering my apprenticeship after your graduation from Hogwarts?"

All he could do was nod dumbly. His greatest wish had come true. He was going to be Biggerstaff's apprentice.

AS Severus's eyes slid over his torso appreciatively, Harry once again thought that he should have made himself less attractive. But it was hard to have a constant glamourie on that wasn't somewhat based on the foundation underneath it. He had changed his nose by deliberately making it crooked, but the nose was generally the same. His lips he had made fuller, almost pouty. His cheeks he had made slightly more prominent. It gave him a more feminine look than he usually had.

He had also tampered with his hair, lightening it and making it straight. Just making it not unruly had been more of a challenge than all of the other nitpicks combined. Damn his unmanageable hair! Having a slight limp hadn't hurt to differentiate himself further from Harry Potter, not that anyone would think he was the Boy Who Lived after all the charms and his considerable age.

It amused him that his best disguise was no disguise at all. He had a limp, thanks to Bellatrix goading Voldemort on. He gritted his teeth, if he couldn't kill the Bellatrix there, he'd be only too happy to do it here. If anything, he had more of a vendetta against her here--- she had murdered his godfather. Thank Merlin Voldemort had come to his senses soon enough to stop senior Crabbe and Goyle from paralyzing him. As much as medimagic could do for a person, if the spine was snapped--- even it couldn't help a person regain the loss of his legs.

And thank heavens Sev hadn't been there, Harry thought with a keen sense of relief. Sev had been angry enough when he had found out about the tattoo on his back, if he'd seen his lover getting beaten almost to death because Harry had once again refused to marry Sahar, Voldemort's daughter from Bellatrix… In the end, it didn't matter that Sahar and him hadn't wanted to marry each other--- they had done it anyway because they had no choice.

At least Harry had gotten something out of it. He was here now. Having gotten the right from Voldemort to grant him one wish without any strings attached if he married Sahar and provided him with his long desired grandchild. What Voldemort hadn't known was that Harry was from another universe and he wished to go back there to see if everything was all right. It wasn't like he'd be there for more than a few years and missing but a few moments in the other universe. So Voldemort had granted it, not that he'd had much choice since he'd sworn a Wizard's Oath.

Unbreakable and indestructible.

Thank god Voldemort didn't know anything other than that Sebastian, as he was known there, was a truly powerful wizard that should be bonded to his only daughter. It didn't hurt that living 9 years underneath the alias Sebastian Biggerstaff had prepared him only too well to take up the same pseudonym and to live under it once more. It was no deception. He had been Sebastian so long that if anyone but himself or Sev called him Harry… it felt inexplicably strange.

"Sebastian," Severus murmured, his velvety voice so much like Sev's that Harry felt himself reacting in his groin, "you are a Potions Master, are you not?"

When Harry had offered Severus his help to develop a poison that could worm its way through all the defenses that Voldemort had taken to make himself invincible not to mention destroy his body and soul, he had neglected to mention that he was a Potions Master. While he knew Severus would be skeptical, he didn't want any further rumors of himself to spread. Being a powerful mediwizard had already attracted considerable attention, attention he did not want. But he could have hardly gotten the job or persuaded the class needed to be taught without demonstrating his power.

Instead, he had told Severus that he had been a Potions Master's assistant, which was no lie, and while he had no intention of being Dumbledore's puppet again--- he hardly supported Voldemort. So he'd work with Dumbledore if that was what it took, and having decided that--- he made the decision to approach Severus near the beginning of the term with his proposal. And he knew the only way that Severus would trust him was to make a Wizard's Oath. He had done it, and Severus had trusted him because if he broke his word to Severus--- he would have to suffer Cruciatus until he died.

But even after professing under the Oath that he was an adept Potions Maker, Severus still had made him go through a version of the Potions mastery, a harder version he had conjured himself to make sure that Sebastian was worthy of helping him in his endeavor. It had been almost as exhausting as the MEDs and he knew he had only barely passed. Then again, he'd never be the Potions Master that Severus was. Indeed, he felt lucky that he hadn't failed.

"Why do you say that?"

"Your skill is not one of a mere assistant," Severus sneered. "You work is that of a Master's."

"Why, thank you Severus," Harry murmured eloquently, "for the compliment. But I assure you, I am no Master." And here, he was not. He was mediwizard, having to go through a second MEDs to claim back his rightful title. It had been far easier as they had not had such high expectations and he had purposely only passed it like a regular mediwizard. Even that was impressive because few mediwizards did that well, on what people assumed, was his first attempt.

"Don't lie to me. The Wizard's Oath," Severus reminded him pointedly.

"And by the Wizard's Oath, you should know, I cannot lie to you."

"Then… you truly are not?"

Harry nodded exasperatedly. "You know the Wizard's Oath you invoked is like Veritaserum. I cannot lie to you unless I want to feel the pain of the Unforgivable in me. Though that is considerably less of a punishment than if I should betray you to anyone."

"Yes," Severus finally agreed. "But I could have sworn you're a Master."

"I am not. Is it not enough that I am one of the few that you would ever deem worthy to allow to work with you?" Harry queried softly, then sighed raggedly as he saw on Severus's harsh face that it wasn't enough to staunch the Potions Professor's curiosity. "Ask me something then," he offered, "that you feel will embarrass me."

There was an unspoken agreement amongst them that Severus was never to question Sebastian about his personal affair and past history under the Oath as it was an invasion in privacy. Severus respected that since he knew what a terrible position Sebastian had put himself in to prove to the Order and to him that he was no Death Eater and that he was loyal to the Cause. If anything, there was too much to admire about this young man, Severus thought dourly as his dark eyes took in Sebastian's beautiful form. Far too much.

He had heard enough girls giggling in the hallways about what a gorgeous specimen that the Medimagic Professor was, how the lower years couldn't wait to move up to 5th year so they could finally start taking the class. Severus rolled his eyes exasperatedly and it wasn't just restricted to the girls. He had seen quite a few of the male students cast a favorable glance toward Professor Biggerstaff, though they had the good judgment to not gossip and giggle.

Ahhh… the perfect question. "Do you prefer men or women?"

"I prefer men," Harry answered instantly. I prefer you. It didn't matter that Severus wasn't his Sev, the inherent qualities were the same and he found it hard to resist the growing attraction he had for Severus. He kept reminding himself that he couldn't let himself be drawn to Severus… that he couldn't cheat on Severus with Severus… as silly and ridiculous as it sounded.

"Older or younger?"

Harry quirked an eyebrow up. He hadn't given permission for two questions, only one. But it wasn't something detrimental. He could humor Severus. "No more after this," he stated patiently. "And if you must know, I prefer older."

Author's Note: Sev is the name I'm going to use to acknowledge the AU Snape, while I'll use Severus for the homeworld Snape. I'm going to try to update once a month (each chapter at least 4,000, most likely 5,000+ like this chapter). I might update more, depends on my ornery muse. This is actually the story that I've wanted to write for more than a year, the beginning oh 140,000 some words was the means to get here. I needed to establish the boring background to get this part. I hope you like it (as much, if not more than MOP + EOE). Any confusion will be cleared up about how Harry got back in Chapter 2, which will include a rundown explanation at the end of the chapter in case you don't understand the context of the chapter -_-.  Rereading Chapter 5 of EoE would also greatly help as well.  As usual, if you like it--- read it and review it and I might write more of it.

EoE Note: One of these days I'm going to have to finish it b/c you'll need to know how Harry managed to get Voldemort to send him back and how the fuck he ended up getting married to Sahar.  That's um… if I finish this installment first.  -_-;; Actually depending on my mood, there could be a 4th part, but that's really up in the air.  My beta knows why!  -inserts evil cackle-  It's not only sheer laziness (shown by not finish EoE). 

Questions to help you review: (1) How do you like Ron's reaction to Professor Biggerstaff? (2) Harry's thoughts of making Hermione and Draco his apprentices? Which do you prefer or both? (3) Draco's infatuation with Professor Biggerstaff? Draco's insight on how Professor Biggerstaff's looks? His limp? (4) The Harry/Severus scene? Severus's questions? Harry's guilt on cheating on Sev with Severus?

Contact Me: (AIM) sevviepooh  or (MSN) wan_mei_zhu_yi @ hotmail.com…


Chapter 2: The Return
How Harry Came Back