September turned to October in the blink of an eye. The clouds swirled with the promise of rain and the nights crept closer to morning every time Harry went to sleep. He disliked winter. It was a cold and unforgiving season, and he was sure that if it wasn't for Lady Magic winter would have claimed his life long ago. Today was Samhain. All Hallow's Eve, or Halloween as the muggles called it. Realising the date as he scratched it into the top of his parchment that morning lead to a horrible feeling of dread settle over his stomach. He didn't want to go to the Halloween feast that Draco was excitedly talking about, he didn't want to gorge himself on sweets like Vince and Greg, or complain about the muggle traditions taking over with Padma, where "India still celebrates with the olde magic- as it should be done! Not this muggle nonsense!". His family had been torn from him that night, and his near eidetic memory forbade him from ever forgetting.
A scream- his mother's?
'Not Harry! Please, Take me instead! Please not Harry!'
'Stand aside silly girl! Stand aside!'
'No! Not my Harry!'
A flash of green and a thud. He heard infant cries- his own? The hooded figure raised his wand to the infant, warped and pale as bone. He could see green light budding at the tip as the dark Lord Voldemort studied his prophesised downfall.
'Avada Kedavra!' Light blinded him, swallowing him and then, he was floating, he couldn't feel the softness of the cot and the warmth of the blankets around him fighting off the autumn chill. He felt a tugging sensation in his navel- No! He could see his mother reaching for him, emerald eyes brimming with tears. Mum! Mum! And then, there was nothing.
Harry shook himself from the maudlin memories, focusing back on his classwork. Today they were learning the levitating spell- Wingardium Leviosa. Most of his accidental magic as a child had been levitation- reaching things from high shelves, levitating books back into place. The intent was the same, he could feel the magic bubbling under his skin, begging to be used. From across the room he could see Granger and Weasley bickering. Why Flitwick had thought that mixing up the houses was a good idea was beyond him, but whatever Weasley had said must have prompted some form of reaction from Granger, as the jabbed her wand angrily at the boy, before performing the incantation perfectly, a satisfied smile on her face. The expression reminded him of Dudley. Harry scowled away the thought.
"Oh well done! See here everyone Miss Granger's done it! Five points for Ravenclaw!" The small charms professor seemed to almost topple off his chair with pride, but Harry was sure it served only to enlarge her ego. Not to be outdone, Harry flicked his wand too, raising the feather much higher than Granger's with a practised ease.
"And Mr Potter too! Take another five points!"
The Muggleborn witch glared at him with a thinly veiled rage, Harry smiled sweetly back. It really was no wonder she didn't have any friends.
--
"Honestly she's insufferable! Padma you're doing it wrong! You're supposed to give a swish- not a flick! Oh Padma it's not Ignium A-cus It's Ign-i-um A-cus! Oh Padma arranged marriages are so old fashioned- you really should follow the muggles it's much better!" Padma vented to Harry and Neville, pacing in the courtyard. "She really needs to learn how to talk to people, it's no wonder no one wants to be around her. She's NEVER going to get a worthy husband or wife like that!" Neville smiled sheepishly in response to the dark-haired girl's ravings, but Harry whipped his head around with wide eyes as a bushy haired girl stormed passed. That stopped Padma in her tracks, as her face blossomed into a blotchy red blush.
"Oh Godric, I didn't mean for her to hear me!"
"Perhaps we should research privacy spells later then?"
"Harry!"
--
At lunch, Harry only picked at his food, having to be coaxed by Padma and Draco to eat anything at all. He didn't want to be around them. He didn't want to be around anyone at all. The only thing he wanted was to go to sleep and pretend he wasn't an orphan living with relatives who hated him and a disembodied voice that tried to help. It was because of the maelstrom of sombre thoughts running around his head that Harry didn't notice the approach of his detested potions professor, clearly trying to not look as sour as usual.
"Potter." He said, looking physically ill at the idea of being kind to James' boy. But he wasn't just James' boy, was he? He was Lily's, Green eyes and red curls and all of her sweetness and bookish charm. His heart ached. Harry shook himself out of his stupor, visibly surprised at the presence of the professor.
"Yes, sir?"
"Come to my office immediately, there are some things we must discuss." And with a curt nod to his godson, he turned on his heel, robes billowing as Harry scrambled to keep up.
The walk to Snape's office was silent and awkward, the taller wizard refused to slow his pace to accommodate his short companion, and so for every step he took, Harry had to take three. Harry wondered if he was in trouble. He didn't recall doing anything to slight the man, or anyone else for that matter, but perhaps Snape didn't need a reason, after all he hadn't needed one before to treat him so callously. When he opened the door Harry peered inside, afraid to see dangerous weapons or vampires or ghouls hiding inside to do him harm. It wasn't enough to not see them, many thought that Severus Snape was a vampire himself, and he never did anything to dispel the rumours of it.
"Am I in trouble sir?" He asked timidly, as the door slammed shut behind him. The professor's desk was neat and orderly, a small wooden box sitting on the top of it, stacks of parchment sitting to the side.
"No Potter, you are not. I trust you understand the significance of this day?"
"Halloween sir?" Snape bit back a remark about his intelligence. Perhaps the boy was being intentionally evasive.
"No, the other significance. The day you defeated the Dark Lord." Harry looked down at the floor, clutching his satchel tight as he fought memories of that night.
"You mean the day my parents died, sir?" Snape flinched, and the Raven debated whether to call that a victory or not.
"Yes. I am sure you do not want to celebrate the same way as your peers. Lily- Your mother- you look just like her you know that?" His words seemed softer, almost bitter. Harry wondered if that was the sound of regret.
"I have been told that sir, did you know my mum?"
"From childhood. We grew up together." The older man walked around the desk and opened the small box. It was engraved with silver, "November, 1981" and was covered in a fine layer of dust. Inside were many photos and letters written in beautiful calligraphy. All of them were of children, some of the pictures moved but most did not. Harry hesitated but picked up the photo at the top of the pile. In it was a fiery-haired girl with brilliant green eyes and ivory skin, next to her, a mousy haired girl with a pinched face who seemed to be rather grumpy. A third person walked into the frame, a young boy with long dark hair and a crooked nose. He hugged the red-haired girl lightly and she laughed at something he said. Harry looked at it slack-jawed.
"That one has myself, your mother and your aunt Petunia we were close until eleven, until Petunia started hanging with that oaf Dursley, and your mother and I came to study here."
"Thank you for showing me this sir," Lily's boy said with shining eyes. He went to put the photo back in the box when Snape stopped him.
"Keep it. I owe you that much for my... indiscretions this term. I.... apologise. You had done nothing to me." Harry nodded numbly, holding the photo delicately as to not damage it in any way. Struck with an idea, he pulled out a piece of crumpled parchment and his wand, transfiguring it into a beautifully ornate silver frame.
"It's alright sir. It happens a lot." And it was true, all his life Harry had been shouldering the burdens of others, being the object of many people's ire for things that weren't his fault nor in his control. Like who his parents were, a prophecy made by someone before he was born, the doorstep he was left on in November '81.
"You have a gift for transfiguration, much like Lily." Harry beamed at the thought.
"Really? What else was she good at?"
"Potions, Charms, she learned how to transfigure flowers when we were thirteen, she left them everywhere, but she never transfigured Lilies, ironically enough. Said that it would be as obnoxious at that potter boy."
"My dad? You knew him too." The dour man paused for a second.
"Not very well. Lunch is almost over, you must have classes to be getting to." Harry nodded, seeing a tense subject obviously hanging in the air. Perhaps his father didn't like Snape, he was a Slytherin after all and he knew his dad was a Gryffindor. They probably didn't see each other often.
"Thank you again sir, really. I've never really known much about my parents." And Lily's boy left his office, clutching the frame as if his life depended on it.