A Bright Star

The Missing

Potions.

Healing potions. Bruise balms. Calming droughts. Blood replenishers. Stomach soothers. Appetite increasments.

Just why would Potter be needing those? For what purpose?

Severus recognized the box they were placed in, knew they were purchased from a legitimate company and each potion was as it said. After all, he was no stranger to creating half of the company's stock and earning a hefty profit from it.

So why would such a high class potions box be purchased for Potter of all people? And why that one?

Severus was missing something.

Potter had been given a questionable gift. True. Potter was slowly moving into the aristocratic circles. True.

Potter blasted Potter!

Potter had come to him for help. Why him? He and the boy had never seen eye to eye since their first class. And yes, Severus was self-aware enough to know that he was a large reason for the disliked relationship.

What else could he do? His sister, his little sister had gone on to marry that toe-rag Potter. He knew Potter loved Lily, he had since he first laid eyes on her, but the spoiled Heir had sought after his little sister like a conquest to be had and won.

Severus had made many mistakes in his life. He knew he was no saint. He had blood on his hands. He had murdered. Butchered. Burned.

Losing Lily after sixth year had dwindled the amount of kindness left in his heart.

Lily marrying Potter and announcing she was with child, starting her own family, without him . That had killed the last of his kindness.

He had made a mistake, yes. But throwing away their friendship, their love for each other based off of that? Lily was just as wrong for that as he was.

Lily just forgot him. Erased him. Dismissed him and their history.

That hurt more than when Severus had found his mothers dead body in Spinner's End when he returned for the summer after fifth year.

So yes, Severus was petty and resentful. The Boy-Who-Lived, lived while his sister died. Lived with the messy hair of his spoiled, uncouth father and emerald eyes of his unforgiving mother.

Severus was man enough to say he was bitter.

Had it been a different life, had things been different, Harry would've been his nephew. Would've been his family. He'd have a family.

But this wasn't a different life.

And for now all Severus needed to do was find out just why Heir Theodore Nott was sending Potter healing potions for Yule.

It seemed Severus would never be rid of raven haired boys and green eyes.

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"Heir Nott, a word," he didn't hiss or snarl, his tone a long drawl as he stood near the entrance to the common room.

Theodore stood with practiced grace, ignoring the questioning glances from his year mates.

Severus had to give the young Heir credit. His face was a cool mask, nothing giving away his emotions of being shocked or nervous. Piercing hazel eyes locked onto his and Severus resisted quirking his eyebrow at the blatant calculating and distrustful look.

Well, I'm not their friend.

"Can I help you Professor?" Theodore asked quietly. Quietly, not meekly. Severus had learnt last year that despite his disposition, Theodore Nott embodied the suave conviction of his grandfather and pure ruthlessness of his father. A lethal combination brewing in the thirteen year old.