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Chapter List
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The last few days before his first time recycle were jumpy at first. There was a lot of pressure to set things up. A lot of the process was going over the schedule--- to the point that Harry was sick of it. Repeatedly Snape would seek him out to make sure he understood what to do during his first trip back, and then the following trips. Nothing could go wrong.
"After your time-leap, you will enter the basement, into the first room marked with a number one on the door. The door will be unlocked--- that is a sign that it is okay to go. You are to enter, and firmly shut the door. I will knock twice, and only then will you open it. Unless you hear that double knock, do not open the door under any circumstances.
"You may have heard about time turners, but it is difficult to interact with your past or present self. In your case, you will be taking potions to speed up your change and encourage it along. This could... cause you to react oddly to yourself. I would not recommend any interaction with past or future versions of yourself, as the outcome would be undesirable."
Harry was bored to tears, having heard this reiteration so many times, but agreed again.
"Now, in the room marked with the number one," Severus repeated thoroughly. "You will find emergency rations beneath each bed, on the unfortunate event that the week ends early and you are forced to end it in hiding. Each week is a numbered room, each containing rations. Should something happen, we have prepared for it.
"Potions, healing ointments, changes of clothes, toiletries and the like... all stored away. A separate box with non-spoiling consumables, fresh water and juice along-side the first box beneath each bed. There are private ensuite bathrooms connected to each numbered room, all separate from one another. A house-elf is on call should the emergency be dire. The door will be locked, to protect the safety of the timestream. At the end of each recycled week, you will return to the basement and the following week's room, at which time the door will unlock, provided you have not returned to the room prior to this. You will be collected, have a small resting period before beginning the next recycle to return to a different room number and week with a new parent."
Harry chewed the nail on his thumb, dully working the cuticles as he listened. It was not the first lecture and he was pretty sure he had it down now. Sure, the first few times had made his head spin, but by the tenth time he had a feeling it had sunk past his thick skull.
He knew Snape had been especially stern during his lectures at Hogwarts, downright anal even... but this was ridiculous. Professor Lupin, that is... Remus had been hashing it over with him, and the two seemed to have exhausted every possible resource. Every negative possibility, everything that could go wrong, they had covered. Sure enough, they had discussed it with the small boy from the cupboard until he was certain he could recite it back to them by heart. It felt good to have someone worry, but it was beyond frustrating as well.
That morning, finishing his beans and toast, Harry was set to head to the basement and begin his first trek back. A time turner was a small device with an hourglass surrounded by golden rings. The outer ring spinning was for hours, the center for days, the inner-most for months or... more. Harry would only be spinning the second ring, and had been advised to be very, very careful.
Snape closed the door to the basement, leaving Harry alone with the pedestal and the room of doors -- he could not, and would not be there to witness any time travel. While he knew it would happen, seeing it was entirely another thing. In this manner, it would be more a self-fulfilling loop, rather than something outside the timestream. At least, that was what they all hoped to achieve.
There, in the center of the room, on a seemingly simple and innocent pedestal... lay the time turner. A golden chain, with a glass hourglass and small white grains of sand that lay within, sparkling. Harry's fingers trembled as he picked it up, looping it around his neck. It would be on his person for the next month, possibly more.
Wand? Check. Spacial-extended bag, personally packed by Remus and Sirius? Check. Glasses? Check. Emergency Portkey? Check. Everything else seemed to be in order, so with that in mind... his fingers turned the second loop's dial of the time turner seven times. One complete week back, his very first jump back.
Time seemed to blur and skip around him, almost as though colors and shapes were blending together exceedingly fast. The boy wizard felt dizzy, his stomach twisted in knots and jumping to his throat. He had nothing to grab onto, nothing to hold steady. Finally, things seemed to slow and stabilize, shaking and skittering to a stop. Harry put a hand out to catch himself on the pedestal beside him, frowning as his stomach plunged back down from his chest, fighting to keep his breakfast where it belonged.
"Room one, here I come," he mumbled, moving on unsteady legs towards his destination.
The brass doorknob turned easily, and he inwardly sighed in relief, knowing that he was in the clear. Entering the improvised safe haven for the next week, Harry locked the door and flopped back onto the simple twin bed off to the side. Now, he simply had to wait.
He was just considering looking inside the bottomless bag for a book or something to occupy his time when there was a double knock at his door. Jerking his head up and raking his fingers through his hair, he scrambled to get his shoes off the bed and sit up. The handle turned and the forbidding form of Severus Snape appeared in the doorway.
His stern visage looked stretched taut, thin with worry and annoyance, lips pressed into a firm line. However, his expression seemed to relax imperceptibly at the sight of the black haired boy upon the bed.
"I presume you had no trouble finding your way here," Snape, no, Severus began, gesturing for Harry to follow him from the room. Strangely the corridor behind him wasn't the same that Harry had entered; it appeared that there was some sort of rotation, as the hallway that had lead to the four rooms, the pedestal, the basement itself were all missing. Instead, Harry was climbing a staircase up to the main cottage proper, though it appeared to be a different section he had never entered before.
"No trouble," Harry agreed, beginning to wonder about the state of wizarding cottages. But then, he'd never really entered that many magical homes to compare what was normal, and what wasn't. He had only the Burrow to consider, so he supposed it could be normal to have corridors appear and disappear.
From what Harry could see, it looked as if a small section of the cottage had been replicated and then nudged sideways. Separate from the rest of the house, it mirrored where everything naturally slid, minor changes standing out as being extra or unusual doors. Was this how Severus intended to keep him safe from his other-self?
"We will begin the week going over a bit of your magical history before we brush over your family history on the Prince side," Severus continued, ascending the stairs behind him, and leading the former orphan into a small dining room with an eat-in-kitchen, very much like the usual Cottage proper. It was something he had grown used to, so he settled right down without complaint.
"My magical history? Sir?" Harry frowned, surveying the vaguely familiar scenery with such a strong sense of Deja Vous. "But you were there for the most of it, being a Professor at Hogwarts..."
"I thought I told you to do away with formalities, Harry," Severus rumbled, though it wasn't voiced as a question. He seemed tired, a bit disappointed that the other was slipping. A touch of snark lay there, almost as if he had expected it, or perhaps self-depreciation. Harry only noticed the range of emotions due to his increased amount of one-on-one time with the man.
"Sorry. Severus, then," he mumbled, ducking his head shyly. It felt odd, calling a Professor by their given name. The other was a sharp man, a good one, but he was used to lipping him off far more than attempting to build a positive relationship.
There was a beat of silence before the Potion's Professor continued, "While I was there for most of your antics, Dumbledore kept many of us in the dark. He kept a tight lid on what happened in the school, preferring only himself to be aware and in the know. I believe even other students questioned how the events of second-year could go unreported. Beyond that, I would much prefer to hear... your side of the events."
Harry blinked slowly. That was such a strange thing to hear coming from an adult. Someone wanted to listen to him? Aside from Hermione, and occasionally Ron who wanted to be filled in, no one ever listened to him. Slowly, he nodded.
"Afterwards, I will provide you with a book I have with a section on demons and their offspring--- cambions. It is the closest I have to providing you with information on the change you will undergo." He frowned. "Unfortunately, information is rather sparse, as most demons are present through contracts, and later have offspring that can interact with the human world. That is the expected route."
Severus' dark eyes were grim, his mouth a harsh line that seemed to tense a bit with words unsaid. Several times Harry wondered if he wanted to say more.
"Then, we will discuss the Prince attributes... my family line."
Harry frowned and opened his mouth curiously. "But... your last name is Snape?"
Severus nodded. "My father was a muggle, Harry. My mother was a pureblood witch, similar to your own father being a pureblood. My mother married my father, took his last name. She was disowned from the main family for marrying... dirty blood."
Harry's mouth formed a large 'O' of shock. Harry was a half-blood, and so was Severus Snape. When Hermione had been called a mudblood when he'd been worried about his mother being called that horrible word... Severus would have understood.
"And you knew my mother? You loved her?" Harry repeated slowly. "I know you hated dad, but... what you said at the Shack-- You really loved mum, right?"
He wanted to hear it again. His thoughts were a mess, racing around in his brain as fast as they came, then shooting out again in every direction. It felt a bit like a game with marbles, rattling around in his head.
Severus tensed for a moment, closing his eyes, he then nodded. "I loved your mother, Harry. I, Severus Snape, loved Lily... I loved her so much. So much that I would have died for her."
Some sort of doubt that he didn't know he carried, some weight that had sat on his shoulders since the Shack... seemed to lift at this statement. It wasn't all about breeding or magic. There was love, and there was feeling. 'I am a child of love,' he thought dreamily.
Harry nodded.
"Alright, then. I will tell you everything... and in return, I'd like to know about you, Severus."
He offered a shy, but determined smile. The Potion-maker looked a bit startled but nodded. After all, Severus wasn't entirely the touchy sort, he'd never learned such a thing.
And so they spoke at length. Harry began with his magic at the Dursleys, accidental magic that was far beyond, apparently. He moved on to Hagrid, his confusion with the Leaky and his popularity status. The goblins, the bank, and getting his things, his twin wand. He admitted he'd originally been excited for Potion's class, curious as he was about the art.
Meeting Malfoy, and Ron Weasley. The Sorting and his misgivings. Everything seemed to involve something that year. The three-headed dog, the forest, Norberta the dragon--- Snape raised an eyebrow at that but said nothing.
The jinxed broom, setting Snape on fire... bad choice, that. His invisibility cloak. Looking for clues after Hagrid's slips. Trying to warn McGonagall, only to be brushed off. Going through the challenges, everything from battling winged keys to a mean game of chess. At the end, they realized it was Quirrell, and the Mirror of Erised was the key to the Stone. Defeating Quirrell through his mother's blood and sacrifice, only to be told that the stone had been destroyed---
There, Severus stopped him.
"Harry, I am afraid that I am going to have to pause you for a moment. You just said that the Headmaster informed you that the stone was destroyed?"
Harry nodded. "Dumbledore came to me in the hospital wing, said the Philosopher's stone was destroyed. He said that Nicolas Flamel and his wife were getting their affairs in order, and they were prepared to die. Like going to sleep after a long day, he didn't seem particularly worried. It all seemed rather sad, to me."
He shrugged, rubbing his bicep a bit through his shirt, looking off to the side. It didn't make him feel any better thinking about it. Yes, he had prevented the return of Voldemort, but the Flamels had died as a result. It didn't seem fair.
"Harry," Severus began, frowning sharply. His tone was crisp, curt, and Harry fought not to flinch. "The Philosopher's stone cannot be broken or destroyed by simple means. Even Fiendfyre will not so much as crack the edges or blacken it's surface, and that is one of the strongest fire spells known. Dragon fire, Harry, would not even heat it's surface... I am not certain if it can be damaged at all. Perhaps a compound of basilisk venom, complimenting the fiendfyre... but a basilisk hasn't been seen around for centuries."
Severus snorted. "The goblins in Gringotts would have destroyed the Stone long ago if it were that easy, there have been many attempts. The do not like not having monopoly on such a gold source. There was even a contract made with them, to prevent a second war, provided the Flamels made no additional Stones."
He was still shaking his head furiously. "The way it is created is the same way-- the only way it could be destroyed. That is through the use of a soul or soul magic."
Harry recalled the vaporous Voldemort leaving the ashes that had once been Quirrell, watching the form crumble into pieces. Smoke and mist, the monstrous warlock had come howling in rage, streaming towards him. He was falling back, the stone was in his hand, held protectively in front of his face, clutched tight in his palm. It was cracking, it was slipping-- his palm was bleeding, something was slipping, was it him? He was falling back, and he didn't want to die. His mother was reflected in the Mirror's surface, smiling sadly. The blood was thick----
"Harry! Harry!!" Severus shouted, shaking the thin shoulders as the boy fought off the ghosts of memories. His eyes had glazed over, his head tipping back.
"I... I remember..." Harry wheezed, blinking owlishly at the Potion-maker, his green eyes bright. "The stone... it cracked. Voldemort left Quirrell... he couldn't bear my touch. He came out of him. He was coming at me... I put my hands up... my mum... I wanted them to protect me. I wanted to be safe... The stone... the stone..." he wet his lips, "..I think it... it understood me. I don't know how, but I felt it. It cracked... just a little. I... we cut... I... cut... I was bleeding?"
Self-consciously, he looked at his right arm. It didn't seem different to him. It didn't feel different, so what was this memory? He couldn't grasp it.
Rubbing his fingers across his palm he frowned. "I-- I think I... absorbed it... or parts of it. I think Voldemort tried to take it. But I think we both hurt it. Broke it, maybe... and I..."
He swallowed hard, clenching his fist.
Harry blinked terrified eyes up at Severus. "What does this mean? Am I... am I a freak?"
Severus frowned for a moment and he tapped his wand on a black kettle in the kitchen. The silence seemed to stretch, and just when Harry was about to run screaming from the room, his chest burning, it was over. His guardian, Severus, spoke.
"I think... you activated a Cambion self-protection mechanism. It has been known to happen from time to time, even in children." The dour man paused. "You are not a 'freak' as you call it. I highly doubt you are even immortal, something the stone was known for. The true purpose of the stone was to heal someone, even from death. Or re-create a body, submerging the required materials in the elixir, as long as the soul lived."
Severus paused. "Given your luck, I imagine the cracks will implicate something of this, but we'll have to study you over the course of the summer and see what manifests. Immortality is highly unlikely. There is also the possibility that you could create gold... but that is not the worst side-effect either." He sipped carefully from his cup, draining the tea while frowning. "Perhaps to defend one's self... hm."
He steepled his fingers and seemed to be considering Harry carefully. Black eyes were intense as he looked the small thirteen year old over. The boy was suddenly uncomfortable and shifted.
"It has come to my attention, Harry, that you never do things normally." He smirked rather sardonically at this. "Even as an unfulfilled cambion, you might have awakened some natural instincts with your near-death experiences. Perhaps we will have to discuss second year as well."
Harry groaned. It seemed he could never catch a break. He was fate's whipping bitch, he just knew it.
And so began his recounting, Severus sweeping about the kitchen to make a fresh cuppa while Harry paced the small dining room. Gesturing wildly, Harry tried to relate as many details as possible, from Dobby to the flying car and the bars on his window. His frustration at the Dursleys and their treatment was catching, for Severus' brow looked dark.
"And it really never occurred to you to owl a teacher or wait for the Weasleys to return from the platform? That if you could not enter, perhaps they would notice something was amiss and understand your situation with a rogue house-elf?" Severus interrupted, still not understanding the lack of logic presented.
"I..." Harry paused, then shrugged his shoulders. He accepted a cup of tea that hovered and slid to a stop before him, prepared to perfection; hot, and two lumps of sugar. Never could stand milk in it, nor too much sugar. Probably something to do with his time with the Dursleys, he'd never drank a great deal of milk to begin with. "Ron was insistent. Actually, he was bloody terrified. I really didn't want to get in trouble, I just... I just wanted to get back to the magical world. I didn't want to go back to the Dursleys, I would have listened to anything at that point..."
Severus made a strange huffing noise through his nose but made no further comment, so Harry continued.
He went on to describe the strange events of the Heir of Slytherin, how obsessed everyone was with it. How originally, he had no idea such a thing mattered. Halloween night at St. Nicholas' death-day party, and walking into poor Mrs. Norris' petrified body, only to be immediately accused of being the culprit. Telling his friends about the 'voice' he heard, only to be told that it was a bad idea to come forward with this.
Severus snorted again. "What I wouldn't have given for you to have been Sorted into my house..." he cursed under his breath.
Harry frowned. "But... you couldn't have been nice to me, Sir--- er---Severus. I mean, you didn't even like me, then. Dumbledore would have found it suspicious enough if you had tried," He pointed out. The boy was terribly confused, feeling like he was missing something. The man had protected him, yes, but he couldn't have done anything about the past.
The scowl he received was worse than usual.
"Harry," Severus began, enunciating slowly. "I have never hated you. I have played my part well, yes. I have often hated how you acted, rather rashly indeed. I have hated what you were attached to, longing to have taken your father's place. But I loathed the part I was forced to play. Indeed, I have also despised what you were forced into, all the lies and sins that have piled upon your name. I have hated a great many things in my life, including myself." Here he paused and shook his head, lank hair falling across his long face. "But I... I have never hated you, Harry."
Harry was awash, lost in a sea of large emotions that he had no way of finding his way out of. There was no familiarity, no comforting knowledge of where to turn to find the shore. He was floundering in the depths of it all. What did all this mean? What could Severus become to him? At that moment, Harry truly felt like a lost child and it scared him.
Severus awkwardly made a gesture then aborted it half-way through. Finally, his voice gruff, he waved Harry on. "Continue. We need to get through this to understand. We will discuss our... personal issues later."
Slowly, Harry nodded. He could do that at least.
Carefully, he picked up the tale again. The rogue bludger, his hospital stay thanks to Lockhart and having to regrow all those bones in his arm. Curiously he paused for a moment, glancing at Severus.
"Wouldn't that have gotten rid of the Philosopher stone fragments, Severus? I mean, if the bone vanished... wouldn't it have been vanished, too?"
Severus' lips twitched. For a moment, it looked like he wanted to make something resembling a smile. "That is a well thought out theory, but no. You absorbed the stone, and it was something done in a crisis, a magical crisis. It was absorbed into your core, the same core magical stream in that arm, granted. But it was those same pathways in that arm. Bones vanishing would not have an affect on the Stone." He took a breath. "I am... appreciating your attention to detail, your thought process, Harry. I would like it if you continued to do so, such a thorough deduction."
Harry's cheeks colored a bit, and he nodded hurriedly. He wasn't used to compliments from parental figures. It felt... strange. Warm in ways that he longed for in a childish way.
Taking a deep breath, he lamented that Dobby had been the one to charm the bludger, visiting him in the hospital wing. He'd been warned about the dangers of Hogwarts, only to find that there had been a human victim this time and indeed, the Chamber of Secrets might exist if Dumbledore was worried. He'd even admitted as much to Madame Pomfrey and Professor McGonagall.
Regrowing bones was painful indeed, and he had been worried about human victims. But it had offered him more information, information that he had shared with Hermione and Ron, something that they had been able to consider about the Secret to the Chamber. Later, there was the issue with the Dueling Club, Harry trying to ward off the conjured snake's attack. He hadn't known how rare parseltongue was, or how the wizarding world had viewed it, and he cringed at the remembered backlash.
"I can't believe everyone thought I was trying to attack Justin!" he ranted, gesticulating wildly, throwing his hands up and nearly offsetting his tea. Thankfully, it seemed Severus had half a mind to reach across the kitchen table to catch the saucer and settle it, but it was a near thing.
"If you recall," the Professor interjected. "I was just as surprised by your gift."
Harry glanced to the side, feeling petulant. Blowing out a breath forcibly through his teeth, he shrugged. "But... but why? I get that it's not that common, Hermione said that.... and I get that Salazar Slytherin was supposed to have been a parseltongue, but I don't understand. Why is it so bad? This is me we're talking about. So I can talk to snakes! It's not that big a deal!"
He crossed his arms defiantly, his green eyes fierce behind his glasses. Severus was strongly reminded of Lily for a moment and nearly pinched himself. Yes, Harry Potter may look like his father, but there was a lot of Lily in there, never doubt it.
"Harry," the Potion's Master chose his words wisely. "Parseltongue was something... revered for a long time. Not as a dark gift, but as... a gift of healing. Yes, you can cast spells with it, but it's very complicated. Very, very complicated. It is a bloodline gift. Parseltongue is something that has been strictly kept between two lines---"
"Two?! I thought everyone said it was only the one?" Harry interrupted.
Severus shook his head. "There is another. It is greatly pursued by the Slytherin line, along with its descendants, because it will increase the blood purity and the chances of having parseltongue or parseltongue abilities. That is why this... particular family has chosen to allow itself to be courted, or remain anonymous, depending on the suitor."
Harry blinked, feeling strange squirms in his belly. He knew who the first family was, Tom Riddle had told him as much. "And... and what family is this-this second family?"
Severus sighed. "Harry... the Prince family line is descendant of a Gorgon, specifically Medusa. While not especially beautiful, they are powerful. Cunning, and malicious, they were sought after by the Slytherin line which had bred with the Lamia and Nagas." He shook his head, long lank hair swaying. "A Prince and Slytherin born child would produce fertile and powerful magical children, with greater ability over snakes and parseltongue magics. Supposedly able to unlock its true capabilities. This union has not been possible in over one hundred years."
The bespectacled boy felt his mouth dry but didn't reach for his tea. His hands began to shake, and he tightly clenched them in his lap.
"So... so you're saying Voldemort has been... been trying to marry into your family? Our family?"
Severus nodded his head slowly. "It is one of the many reasons why he recruited me, kept me close. My talents in Potions and my bloodline, of course," He snorted a bit, sighing.
Coal black eyes turned to Harry's green, suddenly booring into them. "Harry, that day in the dueling club... I remembered that night with Lily. I thought-- I thought you might be mine. I was... so afraid for you. But I also.. I was also hopeful."
Butterflies exploded in Harry's belly, fluttering and choking him with their sudden appearance. Their wings flapping about in his insides, filling up the space within. It was elation, nerves and terror rolled into a strange bundle.
"Then... then you speak parseltongue?" the boy wizard asked, his voice trembling with emotion.
Severus shook his head.
"No, I am afraid not." He held up a hand to stall any questions before Harry could voice them. "My grandfather could, I believe. The bloodline gift occasionally skips a few generations. Much like how in the Black bloodline, not everyone is a metamorphagus. But it surfaces every few generations. That is also why marriages are so sought after..."
Harry's brow furrowed, but he slowly nodded. It seemed rather complicated, but he supposed that made sense.
"Is that why we'll be giving me a new identity? At this new school, I mean. Not just for Dumbledore, but also for Voldemort?"
Severus considered him for a moment. "Something like that. We though it would be safer to for you to be a Prince than a Potter. Rather to be coveted than to be killed. Black was going to suggest something similar, much to his chagrin."
Harry nodded woodenly. Yes, it would be hard to be Harry Potter somewhere else. It would be easier to be somewhere else as someone else, with a clean slate.
"Why don't you continue your tale and worry more about such things later?" Severus suggested, seeming unusually gentle. He nudged the tea towards the quiet child with a single look.
"I... yeah, of course. I suppose I ought to finish off second year before we... yeah," Harry nervously laughed. Taking a sip of his tea, he breathed out and carefully collected his thoughts.
"After the incident with Justin..." Harry continued cautiously, ruffling a hand through his black hair, leaning back in his chair.
He went on to describe how the Hufflepuffs were all convinced he was the Heir of Slytherin, the Ravenclaws on the fence. Ravenclaws prided themselves on knowledge, but no one was certain how a ghost could be affected by magic. What could bother something that was already dead?
Some of his own housemates weren't speaking to him, and Slytherin was either taunting or snide. They seemed to appreciate his sudden shift in status, from hero to target.
Hermione's idea for the Polyjuice had helped, wanting to get to the bottom of Malfoy's bragging. The pale blond had often looked fit to burst when someone spoke of the incidents with the Heir, making it obvious he knew something. Ron was convinced Malfoy was the Heir, but Hermione thought that there had to be more to it. Slytherin house likely knew something, seeing as it was their founder, but you simply couldn't trust one spoiled child.
This admission led to admitting how he knew the taste of Gregory Goyle, and that it was the worst. Yes, Ron and Hermione had been sick, but Harry had honestly thought he was going to die. Worse than food poisoning.
Severus had shaken his head, muttering about silly cambions drinking things that could harm their chemical make-up.
Hermione's accidental cat-hair mishap, and so he and Ron had questioned Malfoy alone, just making it out of the dungeons in time. They'd learned the Chamber had been opened before, but very little else, nothing truly useful out of the experience. With Colin, Justin, Mrs. Norris and Sir Nicholas incapacitated, there were more pointed fingers.
A flooded bathroom added to their list of oddities, and Tom Riddle's diary.
Severus bristled at this, about to open his mouth and Harry just shook his head. Yes, he already knew who he was, but he was getting to that. He went on to say that the Diary had showed Aragog with Hagrid, the large man being kicked out of school. Riddle showing himself as a hero, trying to paint himself in a good light. Thinking back, he dug his nails into his palms, recalling how gullible he'd been.
Following the spiders, after Lucius Malfoy had lead to Hagrid being taken to Azkaban again, and meeting Aragog themselves. All of the giant spiders, and the battle to leave the forest that had followed. The Weasley's flying car, and it's unusual rescue.
"Did the spiders seem... interested in you?" Severus interrupted.
"Hm?" Harry blinked. "Well, sure. We were food, Aragog said as much. Said he kept them from eating Hagrid, but couldn't do the same for us. I don't imagine they catch much large prey, do they? Not many centaurs or unicorns could be caught by such creatures. But I wasn't really paying much attention. They were skittish things, though, and very sneaky. Half of them avoided me, the other half seemed intent on wanting to get a good bite... bit wonky."
His shoulders lifted in a shrug. He hadn't exactly been worried about the attitude of giant spiders, more about staying alive and getting out of there.
Severus nodded. "I would imagine you would smell different to them. Both frightening and enticing... not an experiment I want to repeat, but curious just the same."
Harry rolled his eyes at Severus' scientific brain, then picked up where he had left off.
Hermione had been petrified, and the note she had helpfully left. They'd just found out about the Chamber when they were told about Ginny being taken. Heading down only for Lockhart to try and bail out of there. Taking him hostage, down to Moaning Myrtle's bathroom. Down the pipes with all the bones, and then the landslide from the backfired memory charm.
Going on alone, Harry felt like this was fate. Seeing Ginny lying cold and pale on the floor, beside the diary.
Tom. Tom standing as a strange silhouette. Real, but not real. Revealing what Ginny had done. Who he was, or rather, who Voldemort was. Then summoning the basilisk out of the statue of Slytherin himself. Fawkes showing up with the Sorting Hat, gouging out the basilisk's eyes as Harry hid.
"And you never tried to speak to it?" Severus asked, referring to the basilisk.
"He told me it wouldn't listen," the Gryffindor replied, blinking innocently.
The Potion's Master groaned and pinched the bridge of his nose. For the first time since Harry had arrived, the feared Professor Snape looked like he wanted to take points or assign detention once more.
Shrugging at the strange behavior, Harry recounted the terror, running from the great beast. How huge it was, that, despite it being blind, it could still hear and smell him. Tricking it, running back to Ginny and trying to stay away from the giant, mythical snake.
Inside the Sorting hat, the sword of Gryffindor itself. Climbing across statues, plunging it up, into the basilisk's mouth, a fang breaking off in his arm. Stumbling back to Ginny, the huge fanged tooth leaving black veins of venom in his bloodstream as it spread.
Severus stopped him again and Harry was beginning to grow annoyed. But the man held up a long, potion-stained hand, blinking.
"You are telling me... that you had a basilisk fang in your arm..." He spoke quietly, a deadly whisper.
Harry nodded slowly.
"Yes. In my right arm, the same arm as the Stone, actually. I'm mostly right-handed, so when I plunged the sword up... the fang went in..." He demonstrated, standing and re-enacting the pose of pushing a sword up with his right fist. Motioning, he mimed the injury in his forearm, before seating himself once more.
"See, Severus? Like that."
Severus was leaning forward, his face in his hands, elbows on his knees. He looked as though he were going to be sick. Head drawn down between his legs, he let out a long moan of distress.
"Ah... um... Sir?" Harry blinked. Something was wrong here. "If you're worried about the venom, don't be. Riddle was laughing, saying I was going to die. But Fawkes, he came and cried on the wound. Riddle thought it was funny, saying that the 'bird knew I was dying', that he was mourning me-- but Fawkes' tears healed me. Phoenix tears have healing properties, you know."
He tried to sound reassuring, wondering what could have upset the dark man so much, but suddenly those broad shoulders began to shake. Harsh, callous laughter bubbled forth, hacking horribly. It sounded as if Severus hadn't laughed in years, a sort of hysterical edge to it taking over. Harry didn't know what to say or do, his eyes wide.
Eventually, it subsided, the man going still and seeming to gain control of himself. The teen stared for a moment then ventured a small, "Si-... er... Severus?"
It was quiet before a soft exhale answered him, more of a sigh, a completely world-weary sound. Dark eyes looked up at him behind a curtain of hair. There was no malice, no anger in the gaze. No negativity could be found, at all.
"Harry, do you really understand why being bitten by a basilisk would be bad for your health?" Severus asked in deceptively soft tones.
Harry frowned. That was an obvious question. But, apparently his guardian wanted him to answer, so he did. "Well, it was a bloody large snake, so... yeah. It was venomous, dangerous... so you would probably be worried. But I survived. It's in the past. Don't worry, I won't be doing that again."
He shrugged his shoulders, wondering how soon he could just shrug the whole matter off. Really, some adults were bloody difficult to put up with.
Severus took a carefully controlled breath, holding it for a beat.
"Harry... that is not why it is dangerous for your health. That is why it is dangerous, yes... but for you? No, it is much worse."
Confusion bubbled like a sea of worry within Harry, rising slowly like the tide.
"What do you mean?"
"I mean, Harry, that you are a Cambion. You were in another life or death situation. Fight or flight. You likely would have rode out the venom on your own, being what you are. But with the Stone? The Philosopher's stone seems to have broken down a part of your natural pathways, making your more susceptible, I imagine. Then adding Phoenix tears to this concoction?" Severus shook his head. "That is a combination I cannot know. I cannot understand the possibilities, nor the outcome. I will likely have to run some tests, get a sample of your blood and see the reaction."
Harry pressed his lips together then quirked his mouth to one side, thinking. Almost like wiggling his nose, but with his lips. Wiggle, quirk, think.
"I... I guess so. That doesn't sound too bad," he ventured.
Severus nodded.
"Tonight you will take a phial of my blood potion. I will take a sample of yours in return, do some tests. You can study cambions, and I'll get you a book on the school you will be going to as well."
The young teen perked up a little at this. He was curious about his new school, wondering about the details that had thus far never been mentioned. Just that it was a school that would help creatures, something that would accept him.
"Perhaps we shall even discuss writing your friends, and what will happen during your other Fatherly visits. Tomorrow we will likely go over the Prince heritage. This... has been a lot, I imagine."
Harry nodded slowly. It had. He wasn't sure how, but he felt... not drained, but jumbled. Like his mind was going over so many things at once and couldn't focus.
"Is there anything else about second year that we still need to touch on?"
Harry considered it for a moment.
"I used the basilisk fang to destroy the diary, Riddle was gone. Ginny came back. We flew with Fawkes out of the Chamber... I had to go home after everyone woke up, end of the school year. I blew up my Aunt doing underage magic." He frowned, considering that. "I thought you weren't supposed to have underage accidental magic after you got a wand. I thought that helped keep it under control?"
Severus waved his wand and set the kitchen to preparing lunch, sandwiches and soup. "Generally, yes. However, not only are you rather powerful, but you did not have an outlet. You do not live in a magical household. You practically bleed magic, from your very pores. In a magical household, that would be siphoned into the everyday objects, a house-elf, the wards, etc. In a muggle home?" He shook his head in disgust. "You were a ticking time bomb, Harry."
Green eyes tracked the pot stirring on the stove, the way the freshly baked bread sliced itself and set to grilling on a pan. It seemed better than focusing on his father's words, thinking about the buzz in his mind. Dumbledore had always made it sound like his fault, like he had to work on controlling himself better. He had often been chastised for 'acting out', or putting others in danger. The Headmaster had lied and twisted a lot of things to his advantage, it seemed.
"Can I... Can I go to my room for a bit? I..." He swallowed, looking down at his tea. "I... I'd like to calm down for a moment, process all this before it's time for lunch, please."
There was a soft sigh, the scrapping of the chair against the hardwood floor. Footsteps tapped their way to his side of the table and a heavy, large hand fell on his shoulder. It was surprisingly warm and gentle. "Come with me, Harry."
Harry followed Severus down the hall, but not to the stairs that lead to the chamber below. Instead, he went to a nicely furbished room, a full bed with a soft down quilt. It was all done in grays and subtle brick reds, furniture in rich cherry woods scattered about. The placement was a reflection of where his bedroom had been, but the colors were off. Had Sirius been in charge of this spellwork? Red seemed his style, and he often remarked that he was good at Transfiguration. Regardless, it seemed comfortable, and the teen nodded at his guardian.
"Thank you. Get me in a bit? I just... it's not you..." He looked off to the side, rubbing the back of his neck. His expanded, bottomless bag was still clutched tight to his body, and he felt confused. Harry didn't want Snape to think he was uncomfortable alone with him, rather he was just... overwhelmed.
Severus stood quietly for a moment, then stepped into the hall. He returned momentarily, holding two phials.
"Drink half of the first one, then all of the second. I will return with water when you have finished with this task," he instructed, holding them both out.
Harry eyed the glass tubes curiously, but accepted them without question. The first he half-drained with a sputter and wrinkled his nose. No, it definitely didn't taste good. Whatever it was, it was not something he enjoyed. Just half was fine by him!
Capping it and passing it back, he accepted the second, knocking it back and pouring the contents down his throat. This time, it was met with considerably more pleasure, the taste welcome on his tastebuds. Familiar, he nearly purred in delight as Severus' blood potion soothed the taste of the first potion.
Handing back the second empty phial, Harry stumbled back to his bed. He was feeling sluggish and relaxed. Almost giddy, he beamed at the blurry figure at the door.
"What was the first one, Severusss?" he mumbled, trying not to cross his eyes. Carefully he took his glasses off and set them on his pillow, laying back on the bed with a yawn.
There was no answer, but when he blinked again, Severus was walking back in with a glass of water.
"The first one was a mild calming potion. It appears to have worked well with the cambion potion, almost too well, so you might as well rest. I expected you might need to recover yourself. Have a nap, Harry. You can eat when you wake up."
Severus moved his glasses to the nearby bedside table and set the glass of water beside them. Removing Harry's shoes, the Potion's Professor tapped his wand on the blanket set, Harry dazedly noting that it pulled itself up, was tucking itself around him.
"Sleep well, Harry. Rest now, we shall talk later."
His bag and book were beside him, having slid off his limp arm. Severus was watching silently at the door. Here he was safe. He was so tired. The buzzing in his head was dulling. Tired green eyes disappeared behind heavy eyelids. He slept.

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[[ Poor Harry, he is only 13, nearly 14. He's maturing, but he's still so naive! Still own nothing, just my own imagination. ]]
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