Unofficial Portkey Archive

'I swear, if she tries to boss me around one more time, I'm going to stun her.'

This was from Ron, and it wasn't the first time he had vocalised such a thought. Harry began to pile some bacon onto his plate.

'She's not that bad,' Harry said.

'Are you joking?' Ron looked aghast that anyone could think such a thought about Hermione. 'She's a complete nightmare. There's a reason she doesn't have any friends.'

'She has friends,' Harry argued.

'Oh, who?' Ron asked.

'Emily, for one,' Harry said.

'Okay, one friend, that's brilliant, she's obviously the greatest witch alive,' Ron said sarcastically.

'I'm sure she has others.'

'Don't bet on it,' Ron said. 'I heard Parvati and Lavender talking about her. They hate her. I don't even want to imagine what it'd be like sharing a dorm with her. Ugh - I'd have nightmares.'

'What else did they say about her?' Harry asked while trying not to sound too worried.

'Just that she's always telling them what to do, you know,' Ron said, and then began a very bad imitation of Hermione's bossy voice. 'You had better get to bed, it's very late, don't you think? Honestly, haven't you studied at all? You do know that homework is due tomorrow, don't you?' Ron shuddered. 'Oh, and they said that if she didn't stop bossing them around, that they'd do something nasty to her. No idea what, like, but I hope they do.'

'Don't you think that's a bit mean?' Harry was struggling not to shout with anger.

'Nah, she deserves whatever she gets,' Ron replied.

'Put yourself in her shoes for one minute,' Harry said. 'You've only just found out that you're a witch. You're very excited about it, and maybe a little over enthusiastic, but not maliciously so. Then, two people who should be your friends decide to do, I don't know, the worst thing you can imagine to you - would you deserve it?'

Ron thought about it for a second, and then shrugged. 'I dunno,' he said, 'I suppose not. But she's such an interfering know-it-all, I can't…'

'She's a good person, Ron,' Harry interrupted. 'She might be a little bossy, but that's just because she cares. And since when was it a crime to be intelligent? I like her and I want you to give her a chance. Please?'

Ron sighed. 'Really?'

'Really.'

'Fine,' Ron said, resigned to it, 'but she better not try to boss me around again. You should tell her that. I'll be nice to her, but if she tries…'

'I get it,' Harry interrupted again. 'Thanks. I really think you'll change your mind once you get to know her.'

'Sure,' Ron agreed, although he didn't sound convinced.

Lily Potter was looking for her mother.

She couldn't believe the nerve of those two… two… bitches, but she wasn't going to let them get away with it. Her eyes alight with a fiery spirit charged with anger; she stormed through Hogwarts like a tiny tornado, intent on finding Hermione. As a first year, it was pretty easy to go unnoticed. It also helped to be less than three feet tall, which Lily was. So it was easy for her to slip between the crowds as she searched for her mother and to evade the patrolling Professors as they urged slacking students along.

As a fellow Gryffindor, Lily knew that her mothers first class wouldn't start for another half an hour, and because she wasn't in her dorm or in the Great Hall, there was only one place she could be.

Lily entered the library and scanned the nearby tables. She found her mother and marched over.

Hermione was sitting at the farthest table, surrounded by books, and she only just looked up in time to see Lily stop opposite her.

'Oh, hello Emily,' Hermione said pleasantly, 'here to study? Take a seat, there's more than enough room for the both of us.'

'Actually, I came to tell you something,' Lily said, getting right to the point. She paused, trying to find a way to break this to her mother in a considerate way. 'Uh…'

'What is it?' Hermione asked. 'Do you need help with something? I know how difficult learning magic can be, but if you tell me, I'm sure I could help. I'm not saying I'm an expect, but I do have a knack for picking things up, so if you wanted to tell me what it was I'd try my best to help. It's what friends are for, don't you think? I certainly do, so why don't…'

'Lavender and Parvati are going flush your things down the toilet,' Lily blurted out, interrupting her mothers rambling tongue.

'I… what?' Hermione floundered, her eyes widening.

'I'm sorry,' Lily said, 'but you didn't seem to be slowing down, so… I didn't want to break it to you that way, but… they seem serious.'

'They… why would they do that?' Hermione asked, confused.

'I… I don't understand it, but apparently,' Lily paused, not really wanting to be the one telling her own mother this, 'they don't like you.'

'But…' Hermione was fighting off tears. 'Why? What did I do to them?'

'Like I said, I don't understand why,' Lily repeated. 'If you want to stop them, we have to go now.'

'Right.' Hermione was obviously having a hard time processing it all. 'Of course - a moment please.'

A few moments later and Lily was leading a confused and hurt Hermione to the seldom-used girls bathroom on the second floor of Hogwarts - otherwise known as Moaning Myrtles Bathroom. They burst into the room just in time to see Lavender and Parvati carrying a load of Hermione's clothes and a few of her most precious books into the nearest stall.

'Hey, what do you think you're doing?' Lily shouted, stomping over to them.

'What does it look like?' Lavender snapped back, glaring at Hermione over Lily's shoulder. Only Parvati had the grace to look ashamed.

'Put them down now,' Lily ordered.

'No way,' Lavender argued, 'the snotty little know-it-all deserves it.'

'I'll get you expelled,' Hermione said, speaking for the first time. She swiped at her eyes, getting rid of the evidence of her tears, and stepped forward to stick up for herself. 'So you better give me my stuff back, or I'll go and get Professor McGonagall right now and you'll at least get a detention and probably some points deducted as well, which I'm sure will please everyone else in Gryffindor. I don't want to do it, but I will, so you better give them back.'

'I'd listen to her,' Lily said, 'because even if she's bluffing, I'm not, and I will tell on you bitch.'

'What did you call me?' Lavender raged.

'Lav, come on,' Parvati said, grabbing hold of her friends arm, 'let's just leave it. Come on. Let's go. It's not worth it.'

'Listen to your friend,' Lily said, giving Lavender her best look of death. 'Bitch.'

'Come on Lav,' Parvati repeated, pulling on Lavender's arm.

'You call me that again and I'll get you next,' Lavender promised, dropping Hermione's things onto the ground and storming past them. Parvati gave Hermione an embarrassed apologetic smile.

'Whatever you say,' Lily called after Lavender. 'Bitch!'

Parvati had to stop short when the door slammed in her face from Lavender's fury. She quickly pulled it open again and slipped out.

'Thank you,' Hermione said, bending to pick up her things. 'For telling me. I don't know what I would have done if they… probably locked myself in a girls bathroom and cried for a day or something.'

Lily smiled. 'It's okay,' she said, 'and I think you're stronger than you give yourself credit for.'

Hermione returned the smile. 'Want to hear something sad?'

'Okay.'

'You're probably the first true friend I've ever had,' Hermione confessed.

Lily felt suffused with love as her mother blessed her with those words. 'Let's go put your things back,' Lily said, picking up the few remaining items. 'Then we can get to Charms, and hopefully before the bell.'

'Want to sit next to me?' Hermione asked.

'I'd love too.'

It was late at night when Harry finally had the chance to be alone with Hermione. The others had since gone to bed, having finished all their homework. Harry was also finished, but he was lagging behind, pretending to be struggling just for this very opportunity. He figured Hermione was double-checking her work, or more likely, getting an early start on their Charms homework.

'So.' Harry cleared his throat. For some insane reason, he was incredibly nervous about speaking with his wife of fourteen years. 'Erm, I heard about what happened earlier. I'm glad L-Emily found you.'

Hermione looked up from her books and glanced at him quizzically. 'Did you just say Lemily?'

'Hah, yeah, err,' Harry fumbled, wracking his brains for a reasonable excuse. 'It's a funny story, actually, erm…'

'Yes?'

'She hates lemons,' Harry blurted out.

'She hates lemons?' Hermione repeated.

'Yeah, funny, right?' Harry wanted to die inside.

'Sure…' Hermione went back to her homework.

'It's just… I call her that sometimes, as a joke, you know,' Harry explained weakly.

'Right,' Hermione replied, not looking up.

'I mean it though,' Harry said.

'What?' Hermione looked up again.

'I'm glad she found you,' he clarified. 'What those two wanted to do, that was horrible. I'm glad they didn't get the chance. You don't deserve that kind of treatment.'

'Thank you,' Hermione replied sincerely.

'Welcome.'

Hermione, once again, went back to her books.

Harry cleared his throat.

She looked up.

'She's a good friend,' Harry went on doggedly. 'Emily, I mean. She's really loyal and smart and funny and…'

'Seems someone has a little crush on Lemily,' Hermione said, giving him a small smile.

Harry paled. 'What?'

'You like her, don't you?'

'Emily? No, of course not, we're just friends. Friends. That's all. Just friends. Good friends. Special friends. I mean… friends. That's it,' Harry babbled.

'No need to get all embarrassed,' Hermione eased. 'I won't tell anyone.'

'I'm not… I don't… no crush, okay? Just friends, got it?' Harry tried futilely to convince her.

'Okay,' Hermione said, but in that way that clearly states they don't believe you.

Harry hung his head in defeat.

'Don't worry, I won't tell her,' Hermione reassured him, mistaking his traumatized silence for concern.

'Huh…' That was all Harry could articulate in response.

'You're right though,' Hermione said, closing her books one by one. 'She is a good friend. It's rare, don't you think? Someone who will go to those kinds of lengths for you. I've never met anyone like Emily before. She's completely selfless. She must have great parents.'

'Yeah,' Harry said, looking up at her. 'She really does.'

'Of course,' Hermione said, 'you know them, don't you? What are they like?'

'They're… wonderful,' Harry replied, 'especially her mother. She's the smartest person I've ever met.'

'You know, I read all about you,' Hermione confided, meeting his eyes.

'Oh?'

'Yeah,' Hermione said, 'you're not what I expected.'

'What did you expect?' Harry asked, genuinely curious now. Not even his Hermione had spoken to him about this.

'Well, it's really not appropriate for me to tell you that,' Hermione said evasively. 'It doesn't really matter anymore anyway. I don't even know why I mentioned it. You are who you are and that's that. It was silly of me to expect anything at all.'

'What do you mean?' Harry was completely confused. Was she saying he was not living up to her expectations of him?

'It really doesn't matter,' Hermione said, 'trust me. I better get to bed. Night.'

And with that she was picking up her books and leaving for the girls' dormitory. Harry watched her go, totally and utterly flummoxed. He was also left with a strong sense of disappointment. He'd absolutely bungled his first real conversation with the love of his life and he was near certain that she thought he was exceedingly odd, if not completely loony.

'Bloody great job, Harry,' he said under his breath. 'Great fucking job indeed.'

Harry approached Friday with a bizarre sense of curious anticipation. Today was the day of his first Potions lesson, and his first face-to-face meeting with the man who hated him and loved his mother - Severus Snape. He was still unsure whether or not Dumbledore had confided his true identity with the rest of the Hogwarts faculty, so he had no idea how Snape was going to react to him. Either way, it was going to be an interesting lesson.

So it was that Harry found himself sitting next to Ron and Neville in the chilly dungeon where they had their Potions lessons, when Snape swooped into the room in a billow of robes. He strode purposefully to the front of the classroom and scooped up the register immediately, without even a glance at his new students. He began reading out the names in his barely audible, but still carrying voice. As Harry was expecting, Snape paused on his name and finally looked up. 'Ah, yes,' he said, 'Harry Potter. Our new - celebrity.'

As the moment of Déjà vu passed, Snape carried on calling the names from his register, until they had all answered. Then he went directly to his lesson, with scarcely a pause. Harry let the moment wash over him and barely listened to Snape's speech - he had heard it all before, after all. However, he was by no means caught by surprise when Snape bellowed his name sharply: 'Potter! What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?'

Harry met Snape's eyes, trying to figure out whether the greasy haired wizard was privy to his most hidden secret. He found no sign that he was. The silence stretched out and Snape began looking impatient.

'Well?'

'I've no idea, sir,' Harry replied, playing dumb so as not to arouse suspicion.

'Tut, tut - fame clearly isn't everything. Let's try again. Potter, where would you look if I told you to find me a bezoar?'

When he was younger, Harry had relived this moment a thousand times, always fantasising about answering every one of Snape's questions and wiping the smug smirk of the Potion Masters pallid face. So it was difficult to shrug the question off and pretend he had no idea. 'Sorry, sir, haven't got a clue.'

'Thought you wouldn't open a book before coming, eh, Potter?'

Harry balled his fists under the desk and tried to ignore the looks Lily was shooting him. She, of course, had figured out that he knew the answers to the questions, but was purposefully making himself look stupid.

'What is the difference, Potter, between monkshood and wolfsbane?'

However much Harry was willing to look stupid, he wasn't going to let Snape think he could get away with bullying. If he had to suffer the consequences to make Snape realise this, he was more than willing to. 'I think you already know I haven't a clue, so all I can guess from your continued questions is that you somehow have it in for me. Is that true?'

Snape went rigid. He flared his nostrils. 'If I had it in for you, Potter, you would know it. Ten points from Gryffindor for your cheek and report to me for a detention on Monday - I'll soon have you learning your place.'

Harry sat back in his eat, but didn't deign to reply. He only smiled knowingly. Snape regarded him with annoyed curiosity for a moment, and then went back to teaching his class. If Harry had been paying any attention to his surroundings, he would have noticed the slight discrepancy about his interactions with Snape. While Hermione had raised her hand to offer her answer to Snape's first question, she had quickly let it drop, and instead she had devoted her attention to looking inquisitively between Harry and Lily. She spent the rest of the lesson pondering the beseeching looks Lily had been sending Harry's way.

Over the next few days, Harry pondered what exactly he was going to say to Severus Snape during his detention. Having spoken to Dumbledore over the weekend, he now knew that his secret was well kept, and that none of the Hogwarts Professors knew his real identity - even Snape. Dumbledore had left it up to him, the decision whether or not to tell the Potions Master or not. It was a toughie.

On the one hand, he had no desire to go through Snape's tormenting again. His life was complicated enough without having to deal with the spiteful man. On the other hand, this was no trifling secret, and he truly had no idea how Snape would react to it. The man was never predictable. He wouldn't rule it out that Snape might possibly reveal the secret to the entire Wizarding community, and quite obviously, that would be a disaster of unlimited magnitude.

Harry still hadn't reached a consensus when he arrived for his detention.

'Ah, Potter, you're late,' Snape said as a greeting, leering down at him from his advanced height.

'Of course I am,' Harry said under his breath.

'What did you say Potter?'

'I said of course I am,' Harry repeated, not backing down, meeting the older man's eyes, 'what else would I be, when reporting for a detention with someone who obviously hates me. Wait, don't bother, I know, I have another detention, and I should watch my cheek, right? See, you don't even need to be here, I can do this all myself.'

'Let's make that another weeks detention,' Snape snarled.

'Or we could settle this,' Harry said, and then shrugged. 'Whatever it is about me that's bothering you.'

'Or not,' Snape replied. He pointed roughly at a large pile of pickled jars and assorted potions ingredients. 'Get started before I give you even more detentions. Sort them in alphabetical order. You're not getting out of here until you're done, either.'

'Figures you wouldn't be honest and open with me,' Harry said, not making a move.

Snape turned to face him with a dark look.

'So I guess it's going to be me.' Harry took a breath, trying to figure out what to say. He really should have tried harder to come up with a game plan before the detention. He decided just to go with it. 'I know everything. All about you, and my father, and my mother. I know you used to be a Death Eater. I know you gave Voldemort the information about the prophecy. I know you begged him not to kill my mother. I know you turned spy on him after he failed to keep his promise. I know how much you hate my dad and how you hate me just for being his son. You plan to make my life a living hell. You don't even know me, but you've already judged me. You feel guilty about my mum, so you've going to continue to try and do good - even when Voldemort comes back, you'll jump back into your role as double agent. None of this will stop you from punishing me for being James Potters son, though. So you know what? All I want from you is an agreement.'

Snape was speechless for a good minute or so. Harry waited it out, letting the other wizard digest it all. Finally, Snape turned away from him and pointed towards the door.

'Get out,' was all he said.

'No,' Harry said.

'Get out!'

'No.'

Snape whirled around, brandishing his wand, right between Harry's eyes.

'You're not going to curse me,' Harry said, 'so why don't you put it away?' Harry wasn't entirely confident of this statement, but he felt there was no other way to deal with the situation.

Snape's arm was ramrod straight. 'Don't be so sure, Potter,' he hissed. 'You attach too much significance to your preposterous fantasies. I will curse you, unless you get out. Right now!'

Harry didn't move. Snape's arm began to shake, ever so slightly.

'They aren't fantasies,' Harry finally said. 'We both know it. I'll leave, but only if you agree to talk with Dumbledore. He'll fill you in. I figure you'll be more likely to believe him. I'm probably making a mistake, but I just can't afford to have you on my back this time around. So, go see Dumbledore. Then we can talk about that agreement.'

'Just get out!'

'I'm going,' Harry said, grabbing his bag on the way out.

Snape finally let his arm drop as Harry shut the door behind him.

Dumbledore summoned Harry to his office the very next day.

Snape was there as well, glowering in the corner.

Harry took his seat calmly and waited for the Headmaster to speak.

'I'll get right to the point, Harry,' Dumbledore began. 'Severus Snape has some very strange questions about you. He has confided to me that you know much that you should not know and that you asked him to see me for an explanation. Is this true?'

'It is,' Harry replied, nodding.

Snape continued to glower.

'You are sure?' Dumbledore asked.

'Yeah,' Harry said, 'I don't really have much of choice in the matter. If I don't tell him, he'll continue to hassle me until the day I leave Hogwarts. Besides, it's already a bit late for pretences now, huh?'

'Quite right,' Dumbledore said. 'Very well then.'

And so Dumbledore told the whole story. Snape listened with growing incredulity, but he didn't interrupt even once as the whole strange, far-fetched, but undoubtedly true tale was told.

'This is madness,' Snape ground out, standing up and pacing around as a way to unleash his pent up fury and aggression. 'You have messed with time, Potter. It is intolerable for you to go so far, to manipulate fate like this, it's one of the greatest crimes the wizarding world has. You expect…'

'First of all,' Harry interrupted, standing up as well and getting in Snape's face (at least as much as he could in an eleven-year-old's body), 'though I may appear to be a child, I am not, so I won't tolerate you talking to me like I'm beneath you. Second, you have no idea what I've been through, so don't even try to pass judgement on my decisions. I didn't tell you so that you would agree with me, anyway. I told you because I'm trying to avoid this very conflict. As you're aware, I know all about you and my father and my mother. I don't expect to be best buds, or that we have some kind of mentor/student relationship. Frankly, I don't much like being in the same room with you. While you did help out a lot last time, which I appreciate, don't get me wrong, it did nothing to change the fact that you're one of the most unpleasant wizards I have ever met. All I'm asking is that we be civil with one another. It'll cause us both a whole lot less hassle. Trust me. What do you say?'

Snape cast a look towards Dumbledore, who sat serenely behind his desk, a silent witness to the scene. They seemed to communicate silently through only their eyes, reaching an accord. Then Snape swallowed, fighting down an angry retort, and nodded stiffly. 'Very well, Potter.'

'Good,' Harry said. 'Well, that's taken a load off my shoulders, I tell you.'

'Now that that's settled,' Dumbledore interjected himself once more into the conversation, 'I have some news. My appeal to the Gringotts goblin's has finally gotten through. They will be emptying Bellatrix Lestranges vault tomorrow and I'll have the cup shortly after. Then we just have the diary to go, correct?'

'Yeah,' Harry said, 'though how to get it, I have no idea.'

'Perhaps I could help,' Snape said.

Harry and Dumbledore turned to look at him at the same time.

Severus Snape could, and did, help. Using his connections with former Death Eaters, he arranged a meeting with Lucius Malfoy, under the pretences of discussing Draco's situation. While Snape was meeting with the elder Malfoy, Remus Lupin, under cover of Harry's spare Invisibility Cloak, worked his way into the Malfoy's inner sanctuary and using a Dark detector, hastily located the diary, hidden away amongst the Malfoy secret storage room. The mission was a success. Later that very day, Harry, Dumbledore and Snape destroyed the diary and Hufflepuff's cup using the tried and trusted method - the sword of Gryffindor.

It was safe to say that Harry was walking on water.

He'd destroyed all of Voldemort's Horcruxes in a timely fashion. Peter Pettigrew was locked away in Azkaban and would certainly not be seeking for his Master anytime soon. Voldemort would remain a formless shadow until the day Harry was strong enough to seek him out and finish him off. Hermione, Ron and the rest of his friends were all alive and sound and getting along as well as could be. Sirius and Remus toiled away at Grimmauld Place, finishing of the renovations on the formerly decrepit house. His daughter was performing excellently in school, getting top grades alongside her mother, and was happier than she had ever been before. Draco Malfoy was alive as well, and while he was by no means happy, he was going to stay alive and eventually he would put all of this behind him and move on from his terrible experiences at Hogwarts as a Gryffindor. Most importantly, he was free of his father's corrupt influence.

Life was great.

He had done it.

He had saved the world.

As Harry finished up his first year back at Hogwarts, he couldn't imagine anything that could change that.

Deep in the forests of Albania, a servant searched.

The disembodied, fragmented soul of Lord Voldemort clung to life, latching greedily onto anything that breathed, like a parasite.

A tiny snake raised its head with surprise as footsteps approached. Its eyes glowed an inhuman blood red as it studied the form approaching through the forest. Leaves rustled and crunched, a black-cloaked figure emerged hooded from between two trees. They considered each other, the tiny snake looking up into the depths of darkness concealed by the hood, hiding the person face. The cloaked figure looked down at the snake.

The snake's forked tongue flicked out with greed as it slowly approached the figure through the leaves.

The figure raised its hands to the hood of its cloak.

'My Lord,' said Bellatrix Lestrange, lowering the hood, and stopping the snake in its tracks. 'My Lord, I have much to tell you.'