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Story Notes:

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or anything associated with it.


Author's Chapter Notes:

My computer crashed last night when I was trying to update this story, meaning that the next three chapters are floating around in Cyberspace. I've reposted this chapter, with a little of what was suppose to be the next chapter at the end. Updates are most likely to take a while, as I still have a year and a half to graduate from high school.

            Frozen emerald eyes took in the sight before him. Kneeling at his feet was the form of a man, shivering in fear. To the man’s credit, he had yet to beg for mercy-perhaps he knew there was none to be had.

            The emerald-eyed man seemed deep in thought about what to do with the figure before him. He gave a decisive nod of his head then spoke:

            “Do you wish to live?”

            The question shocked the older man. Why had been offered a chance to live? When he voiced his question aloud, the younger man chuckled.

            “You do not ask for mercy, and when offered a chance to live you ask why? Yes, I believe this will be very interesting. I saw what you did at the Battle of Godric’s Hollow. Very creative, redirecting my curse so it did not hit Voldemort, but the wall behind him. For all intent’s and purposes, you protected your master, but still managed to aid the cause. I’ve been meaning to thank you for that; it provided me with a much needed distraction to take out Nagini.”

            The onyx eyes were filled with a fire that came from Hell itself.

            “Neither he nor the old fool was my master. I never served them. Never.”

            He seemed to realize immediately that he had insulted his captor’s mentor. Eyes wide, he thought that surely there was no way he would live through the night. But instead of anger, his captor was oddly curious.

            “Then where does your allegiance lie? Who was the fourth player in this game?”

            There was no answer, save a single tear running down the kneeling man’s face. This tiny bit of emotion from such a war-hardened man softened hi captor’s face. He spoke softly with a tinge of-respect?

            “Whoever it was held not just you loyalty, did they? They also held your heart.”

            Hesitantly, he looked up, “She held me mind body and soul. Anything she wanted, anything she needed, I would have given her. I would have done anything she asked. She was kind to those who earned her trust, but if it was demanded of her, she could be down right cruel.”

            What had originated as a single tear was now a river. Who had she been, this woman to whom he was so loyal, even in the face of Death?

            “What did she tell you to do that lasted for so long?”

            “I was to guard her son no matter the cost. She had a vision in which she saw his life in my hands, and so sought to ensure his safety. I swore on my magic to watch over her son.”

            The question was inevitable-“Who was the child?”

            “Harry Potter.”


August 31, 1991


What happens when life decides it doesn’t like you? Severus Snape was about to find out, for at that very moment Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore was headed down to his potion’s lab. Dumbledore was furious with his potion’s master-how dare he suggest that they hold a birthday party for the-the-the weapon? The boy could not be shown any compassion, and he was going to ensure that his weapon’s only savior would despise the boy for his father’s crimes.

            Snape was happily mixing up a birthday cake for his charge. After ten years he would finally be able to watch over his lady’s son like he promised. Damn Ministry laws- Lily had made him Harry’s godfather, not that miserable excuse for a Black. Good thing too-what would have happened to the child if he had been left in the mutt’s control?

            Someone was knocking on the door, “One minute!” he called.

            Snape wiped off his hands and headed towards the door, all the while wondering who could possibly want to talk to him. Dumbledore would have Flooed him if something was wrong, and none of the Slytherins where there yet to bother him.

            “Stupefy!” Snape collapsed as Dumbledore walked in, surveying the scene before him. He shook his head; this would not do at all. The Headmaster of Hogwarts could see that he had a long, tiring night ahead of him.           

             Snape woke up on his bed wondering how he had managed to get there from his lab. He resolved to never again try to make Veritaserum the day before Hogwarts started. 
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