Harry awoke suddenly feeling a cold-sweat and tears beading down his face. Another nightmare. Had he screamed? He hoped not. His Uncle would be quite upset being pulled out of his sleep once again by his nuisance of a nephew. His Uncle Vernon had always been cruel, but this year he was adding physical abuse to the emotional.

A couple of months before Harry came home for the summer holiday, his Uncle had been laid-off, and though he easily found more work, if the conversations between Uncle Vernon and his wife Petunia were any indication, it was harder and paid much less. No doubt Vernon blamed Harry for his misfortune; probably assumed Harry and "his kind" had cursed him.

Sure, Harry would just owl Sirius, or even Dumbledore, Remus, Ron, or Hermione, but to make sure he didn't, Harry's uncle was forcing Harry to write letters to his friends and godfather, saying he was doing well, and had re-bared Harry's window so he couldn't owl anyone without his knowledge.

Harry painfully turned his head, neck sore from one of the many meaningless beatings, and picked up the two newly broken halves of his glasses, glancing at his alarm clock. Four in the morning. He waited for it…for the sign that his Uncle was coming down the hall. The angry murmuring and snap of the belt didn't come...thank God.

It just wasn't fair. Harry couldn't help screaming sometimes. If they saw what he saw in his dreams, maybe they would understand. The blank stare of Cedric's dead face had taken precedence over the screams of his mother, begging to spare Harry's life. Both hurt Harry so much, but Cedric was worse. Of course, even though Harry never knew his parents well, he loved them more than anything, but he was just a baby then. But he couldn't help feeling guilty about Cedric's death. He knew it was Voldemort who was to blame, but Harry felt partially responsible. Voldemort was after Harry. The port-key was intended for Harry. Death was meant for Harry. Not Cedric.

Harry carefully sat up and checked a small, cracked mirror Dudley had left in the room, carefully inspecting his facial wounds. It was odd how Harry was so fond of his scar, but these bruises and cuts were going to be embarrassing if he had them when he returned to school in a month and a half. He hoped Uncle Vernon was wise enough to stop soon enough for him to heal.

Harry took special notice on his nose. It was no longer soft and straight, but bold and bumped. He supposed his Uncle must've broken it once or twice this summer, though he couldn't remember a particular incident where his nose felt smashed. Oh well. Just one more summer after this one, and he'd be away from the Dursley's forever. Harry gingerly walked over to his window and sat on the floor, staring out into the night, willing the sun to come up soon to chase away his dreams.

*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*

Albus Dumbledore walked up to Hogwarts, returning from a meeting with the Ministry. Oh he had been ever so busy now that Voldemort had returned to full power. Three days ago Death Eaters were seen torturing a dozen Muggles, but thanks to his little connection, namely Severus Snape, Aurors had gotten there before any deaths. Though that was far from the only incident over the summer, and there certainly had been deaths. Dumbledore thoughtfully considered Harry. He was happy they had a powerful force of protection around the boys home with his relatives. At least he was safe.

Dumbledore was snapped out of his reverie when the castle doors swung open, Snape stepping out from behind them and hurrying to meet Dumbledore up the path. "Albus," Snape started, sounding a bit shook up. "I need to talk to you. Now. It's about Potter." Seeing the worried look on Dumbledore's face, Snape continued. "He's fine, I believe, it's just about him."

Dumbledore visibly relaxed, and replied coolly, "Come along, then, Severus."

"Tea, Severus?" Dumbledore asked as they walked into his office.

"Err, no thank you." Snape replied, seemingly a bit nervous. Dumbledore noticed this and glared at Snape uncertainly

"What is it about Harry that is bothering you?"

Snape snorted in laughter at this. He and Harry never got along, always "bothered" each other. That just made this whole situation all the harder. "I just don't know where to begin" Snape replied.

"I've always found the beginning a good place."

Snape glared at this, but shrugged as he started. "Well, I, um, recently found out I was the victim of a prank, one that was pulled on me a couple of years after graduating Hogwarts, while I was a Death Eater." Snape looked up at Dumbledore who just looked as to be waiting for more, then continued. "Well, I'm sure you remember how everyone would always tease me about having a crush on Lily. I'm old enough to stop denying it now. I was a Slytherin, She was a Gryffindor, but she was always nice to me. Even though her friends hated me, played tricks on me, told her not to talk to me, she was still a friend to me. I cared for her very much. I won't lie to you though, a part of me still holds a grudge against James for being the one to marry her, have a child with her, and, well, I wont pretend to not be a little unfair to Harry because of it." Snape looked down, but Dumbledore smiled knowingly, nodding for him to continue.

"Well…this is the hard part…I'll admit to being upset when Lily married Potter. He was cruel to me, and I wanted Lily. But I knew she was happy with him, and so I forced myself to get over it. But, um, some of my cohorts didn't. Well, as I recently found out, one night, to try to get Potter back, and do a favor for me, they played a little trick. Lily was known to get a small coffee on Monday and Wednesday nights, at that small little café that was in Hogsmeade. Well, I don't know which one of the Death Eaters it was, but they poured a love potion into her mocha…I don't know which one…there are many, but it was one directed toward only one person, and lasting only 4 hours…anyway…I was in the bar down the street with some of the other guys, and, er, apparently they used the same on me. Apparently they realized I wasn't jerk enough to fool around with a married woman, no matter how much I wanted her."

A worried look crossed Dumbledore's face. "Are you getting at what I suspect you are getting at?"

Snape nodded, looking ashamed. "We got a room at one of the inns apparently…um, she must've come out of the spell first, or she wouldn't have believed I had no control over what happened. I don't know what happened after that…the guys told me a couple of nights ago what had happened, and I was so upset with them they wiped my memory…but not hers. And I'm sure she would've told James."

Dumbledore looked questioningly at Snape. "I'm almost afraid to ask. What does this have to do with Harry?"

Snape swallowed and cast his eyes to the floor. "It was just after Halloween that it happened…which happens to be nine months before Harry's birth." Snape fought to get that out, but then swiftly added, "It might not mean anything…he looks like James, we all agree, but, you know, it's just possible…and I thought I should tell you. And I don't know what to do."

Dumbledore was quiet for a few minutes. "I don't want to frighten you, Severus, but you and James didn't look that different at fourteen. You both had messy black hair, you hadn't started to slick yours back yet, and at fourteen, facial features are just developing. And the glasses…could be coincidence. I think it's worth testing…if you wish to."

Snape nodded. "I have to. But how do we without telling Harry?"

Dumbledore was taken aback. "I assumed we would tell him. He does have a right to know as well."
            Snape shot up out of his seat. "But it would kill him! He hates me! I'll admit it, I've always been a bit rough on Gryffindor's…and particularly on him."

"Severus...It's obvious to me now, in light of your confessions, that your bit of extra malice for Harry is rooted in Jealousy, of him being the son of James, not you."
            "But he won't understand that!"