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Chapter 7:

You asked before, you have it now

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To who ever this is delivered to:

I can't imagine who you are or how you know the truth about the secret keepers, but thank the gods for you. The tent is marvelous, and you astounded me again when I found those potions and a replica of my old wand. I must weigh almost 14 stone by now, that enchanted cupboard is bloody brilliant, I can't cook for a damn, and I wonder if you already knew that. Do I know you? Did you know Lily and James? Of course it must be foolish to ask you these questions, after all, if you were going to tell me, you would have done so, and then you might have gotten in more trouble than I'm worth. But, I can't help but ask; am I ever going to meet you? Thanks a million times for everything,

Sincerely,

The You-know-who that's NOT a dark lord.

Harry folded the letter with a smile and tucked it deep into his robes. Even freshly out of prison, Sirius Black could still crack jokes. Hopefully, he would be seeing Padfoot soon to give him the biggest hug in the world.

Harry shook his head and checked his watch. Almost show time, they'd better get moving if they were going to make to the dungeons on time.

"Ready to go?" Hermione asked as she pushed away her plate full of crumbs. Ron glanced at his own watch and stood up from the table. He looked less than enthused to have potions first thing in the morning.

"Don't look so down mate, it probably won't be as bad as all that." Harry clapped his friend on the back as they made their way out of the Great Hall.

*8*8*

Professor Snape was behind his desk, dutifully plodding through a pile of pop-quizzes, his eyes fixed on his work with a thinly veiled single minded determination.

Coward. Eris snorted in Harry's mind.

Be nice. Harry scolded her absently while bottling his and Ron's potion. Ron kept looking from their potion to Hermione and Nevilles' in disbelief. They were exactly the same. He's a little afraid of the future, can you really blame him?

Oh, he faces hordes of hormone driven, magic filled, adolescents fooling with explosives daily. He should have nerves of steel!Eris huffed. You'd think he could handle one underfed thirteen year-old.

A gong sounded from deep within the confines of the castle.

You know, I don't know which part of that sentence to object to first. Harry rolled his eyes and got in line to place the vial in the box on Snape's desk. Snape didn't look up from the quizzes as Harry set the bottle down inside the crate, though his hand froze in the middle of a red mark. Harry shook his head and went back to his desk to pack up his bag. He noticed out of the corner of his eye Hermione had already packed her bag and slipped out of the class-room with the time turner.

"Hurry up Harry," Ron urged as he helped him gather the rest of his belongings. "If we start on our assignment now, we'll have an hour before lunch free." He paused with a blink and looked around, "Where's Hermione?"

"Don't worry about her, she's not allowed to tell you, but I am. I'll tell you later." Harry set his now full bag on the ground, "Actually, I have to do something first." He glanced at Snape and gave him a meaningful look.

"Good luck with that." He patted Harry on the back and picked up his own bag. "I've got to go check on Scabbers, he's been sleeping more than usual, but he does seem loads less stressed. Usually, he goes mad when we try to stick him in a cage. I think it's the tonic."

"The tonic. Right, that's probably the cause." Harry agreed with a straight face. It would have nothing to do with the powdered asphodel I put in his rat-tonic…and his food…and water. "Meet you guys in the library then." Harry waved to them as they left the classroom.

He waited until the door clicked shut to pull a rolled up scroll out of his robes and stride up to Snape's desk.

"I believe class is dismissed Mr. Potter." Snape stated in a strained voice with out looking up from his paperwork.

Harry smothered an amused snort. "I know." He said instead and held out the parchment right under Snape's nose so he couldn't ignore it. He pretended not to see the man flinch minutely.

"What is it?" Snape let the quill lie finally and leaned back in his chair, looking at the extended hand as if it held a live cobra.

"A gift." Harry answered promptly.

Hesitantly, Snape reached out took it. "Thank you."

"Open it, so I can show you how it works." Harry urged gently. A trapped look flashed across Snape's face, but it was hidden just as fast before he haltingly undid the white ribbon that held the roll shut. It looked blank as Snape uncurled it; Harry flicked out his wand and tapped it twice. A little black dot appeared, like the ink blot of a quill. "Tell it who you are."

"Severus Snape, Potions Master." The dot quivered, and then exploded into a web of thin lines and symbols. Snape blinked and leaned foreword. "This is a map of Hogwarts, it's tracking… everything." He whispered in astonishment.

"Not all of Hogwarts, just the dungeons." Harry gave him a small smile. "To give the students a fighting chance you understand."

Snape inclined his head with small smirk.

"Now, what I don't understand about you professor," Harry considered Snape with a confused frown. "Is how you've gotten such a high opinion of life. I'm tempted to let the world drown in its own stupidity half the time, but I don't because that's my duty. But you, someone who doesn't owe them anything any longer, would still risk your life to defend the same people who would damn you." Harry ran his hand through his hair absently and glared at the man without really seeing him, his eyes far away. "What could you have possibly seen that would make it worth it? That you would be willing to die for?"

Snape bowed his head, his hair creating a curtain in front of his face. "As you well know, there was someone…special." Snape's voice was whisper soft again. "There are things in this world worth dying for." His tone stirred a swirl of frustration and unfocused anger in Harry's gut.

"Optimism?" Harry nearly spat, startling Snape into looking up. "From you? I really expected more. Tell me professor, when was the last time optimism saved anyone?!"

Snape choose his words carefully. "It's not optimism, it's called hope, and you are far too young to be without it."

"But not to young to die, am I?!" Harry snarled. He felt enraged for a reason he couldn't grasp.

That made Snape pause and consider him again. "Seers aren't privy to their own futures, if I'm not mistaken." He started slowly, "How can you be so sure-"

"That I'm going to live a short and painful life?" Harry hissed. With quick, jerky movements, Harry ripped off his robe and shoved up his left sleeve to bare a pale forearm with two circular scars marring it. "Let's see, I got these from where my Uncle shoved a lit cigar on my skin," He dropped his arm and lifted the hem of his shirt to expose a crescent shaped scar stretched over painfully obvious ribs. "I got this from my Aunt when she beat me with a caste iron skillet." Harry turned and lifted his shirt away from the small of his back where three long vertical scars ghosted dangerously close to his spine. "And these from where my cousin though it'd be fun to kick me down a flight of stairs, then drag me up to do it again."

Harry straightened his clothes and fixed Snape with a poisonously bitter look. "The past belays the future. The wizarding world will get their savior, martyr, scapegoat- whatever, and I will finally get to the other side. There's nothing here for the likes of me, and there never will be." Harry paused as he picked up his robes, his twisted expression slipping into a slightly dreamy one. "I hope it's like falling asleep and not –"

A hand on his shoulder startled him. He hadn't even seen the man move, but Harry looked up into Snape's searching eyes. The dark tunnels seemed to capture him, hypnotizing; Harry felt a light tug on his mind. He hesitated briefly, but allowed Snape to pull him into a memory.

Harry stumbled back clutching his chest as if he'd been stabbed. He'd never felt anything like it. Was that what it would have been like if-? No, he couldn't let himself finish that thought. He took several deep breathes and hugged his arms to his chest.

"I-," his voice faltered as he looked up at Snape, who was gazing down at him with a ghost of an emotion he didn't dare define. Harry fixed his eyes on his shoes and was able to speak after another deep breath. "I don't think there's anything like that for someone like me."

Snape considered the boy before him as if he'd never seen him before. "I think," The Professor started, moving closer. "That there is." Slowly, as if quick movements would break something, Snape picked up the discarded robe and pressed it into Harry's chest until he took it.

He considered Harry one last time, and nodded, once, confirming something to himself. Then he straightened his spine and seemed to return to normal. "You're going to be late for lunch," Snape said finally. Harry hesitated in moving. "Was there something else?"

"I need to...show you something." Harry swallowed and tried to gather his thoughts. "Later tonight."

Snape squeezed his shoulder. "Very well, I will approach you in the library fifteen minutes past curfew and give you detention, will that suffice?"

Dazed and confused, Harry could only nod and pick up his bag to leave. He paused with his hand on the door knob, he'd almost forgotten a crucial part of his present. "Professor?" Harry didn't turn to look at Snape. "When in dire need of a destination, stand in the presence of both gift and enemy turned ally. Have him speak words that once seemed dead, but now bloom in the autumn of dark days… See you tonight."

*8*8*

What in the hell was that?! Harry slid to the ground in an ill used corridor, burying his face in his hands. His chest still ached with a ghostly yearning, his mind churned. Snape never acted like that before, no matter how civil we'd gotten!

Ahh, but my dear, this time you made him realize something that had never occurred to him. Eris' voice was soothing in his bewildered mind.

What could that be? Harry snorted out loud.

That someone may have needed Lily Evans more than he did.

Harry didn't have a reply for that, nor did he wish to examine that statement at all. Instead he willed the confrontation to the back of his mind and concentrated on making himself presentable for his friends. He had another long night ahead of him, one of many to come, for this was just the beginning.

I wonder how friendly Snape will be while I read his tarot to him tonight. Harry mused as he set off for the common room.

You can always tie him to a chair.

There's an option.