Her high heels clicked angrily against the pristine hardwood floor as she left Harry and Severus alone in the entranceway. Harry stared at the floor, feeling much stranger than an average 14 year-old boy should. The surprise, confusion, embarrassment, and anger that he felt were echoed on his face and in his body language.

Severus took the time to really look at Harry. He was thin – much thinner than he should be. His posture was more hunched at the Dursley residence than it was at Hogwarts. He had bags under his eyes – probably from staying up at night, trying to finish at least some of his schoolwork without interference from unfortunate family.

He thought about this for a while. It sounded all too familiar to him. The thinness, the hunched appearance, and the constant lack of sleep were all things that he, himself suffered from as a teenager.
No – this was Potter! The son of the man he had hated from day one! Why should he feel remorse? Harry was able to shake off the treatment he had received from his aunt and uncle when he got to Hogwarts. He wasn't.

But then Harry decided to look at him. His eyes bored straight into Severus' very soul and it took every ounce of his spirit to not look away. His eyes were a bright emerald green and – exactly the same shape and colour as his mothers'. They burned with the same passion and intensity as Lily's had after he had said those words. In fact, every single time he looked at Harry, he felt like he was reliving the worst mistake he had ever made. Seeing the face of the man he had loathed for all of his life with the eyes of the woman he had loved was like having his heart cut out with a spoon.

By now, Harry had given up the pretense of acting shy and reserved. He was fifteen years old – almost a man – and had decided that he would no longer be left in the dark about matters concerning his dead mother, especially by someone who loathed him and his entire family.

"Er… Professor? Why exactly did you come here?"

"It's none of your concern, Potter."

"Actually, it is, Snape," Harry countered. "What do you want with an old box of my mother's?"

Severus thought for a moment.

"Dumbledore feels that your mother could have had some insight into the Dark Lord's plan of attack. She worked with a secret society that worked to bring down the Dark Arts in all its forms."

"How would a box of stuff from when she was a teenager help Dumbledore today?" said Harry, skeptically.

"Well, I don't know. Dumbledore doesn't take it upon himself to confide every single detail of his hypotheses in me."

"I have no idea why Dumbledore might want it, but I think that I have the right to at least take a look. After all, she was my mother."