Author's Note: Hints of child abuse/neglect from the Dursleys this chapter. It slightly bothers me that no teacher at Hogwarts ever gave any thought to Harry's relatives and the way they were treating him. While it was never outright stated it was child abuse in the books/movies, the implication is there, and it's sadly one of the truest aspects of this series. I don't know how much I'm going to go into with it, but I definitely wanted to address it. Having been a victim of abuse myself, I felt it should have been brought up even just a little.

I apologize if the topic makes anyone uncomfortable, and feel free to skip this chapter if you wish to avoid reading about it.

Chapter Six:

"The Mirror Of Erised"

Christmas was quickly approaching. With less than a week away from holiday break, the students of Hogwarts were in a state of continued cheerfulness and frenzied antics, and Severus Snape thought his head would explode from the many migraines he was developing dealing with the overly cheerful brats.

Granted, one good thing that came out of the holidays every year was that almost all of the little dunderheads would be gone, spending their time at home with their precious families, and he would get a well deserved break from the pests for a couple of weeks and when term resumed, he could get back to his much anticipated hobby of tormenting them.

Dumbledore, having gone to each head of house and requested a list for all those who wished to remain at the school for the break, snorted as McGonagall handed him the mostly finished list.

"Just your house left, Severus," She said in a clipped sort of tone. "Although naturally, all of your snakes go home for the holidays."

"Yes," He replied nonchalantly, his eyes sweeping over the list. There were only five students staying this year. To his horror and annoyance, the young Weasley boy was one of them. He snorted again. When his eyes traveled further down the list, he noticed that Harry Potter was also among them.

Frowning, he looked at Minerva. "Why is Potter staying here for the holidays? Surely, his aunt and uncle will be wanting him to be at home with them...?"

McGonagall's jaw tightened. "Potter has told me that he wishes to remain here because he feels he will be, forgive me, bothering his relatives by going home for Christmas. When I attempted to question him about it, he desired not to talk about it."

Snape's eyebrows creased. "Interesting. One would think he would be excited to go home, getting all of the gifts and sweets."

McGonagall sighed. "I know you don't know much about Potter's family, but the night Lily and James died and Harry was to be sent to Lily's sister and her husband – " She ignored Severus's slight jump at the mention of Lily – "I sat outside that house all day and watched them. They were absolutely horrible. The Dursley man was a horrendous pig, the child was obnoxious and very spoiled, and the woman, Petunia, was nosey and snobbish. They were the worst kind of Muggles I'd ever seen. I told Albus, right from the beginning, that Harry was going to have a trying life there, in the presence of people who despised magic..."

Severus's eyes flashed. "What are you getting at, Minerva?"

She looked uncomfortable, something Snape found disturbing considering her upheld demeanor. "I'm saying, Severus, that I don't feel Harry Potter is completely loved there. From the impressions I got of them, they hate anyone and anything to do with magic. While I don't think Harry is being harmed there, I believe there is a large matter of negligence.."

"Have you spoken to the Headmaster about this?" Severus asked, frowning deeply.

She sighed again and shook her head. "No, and I don't intend to. When I spoke of them in the past and expressed my feelings to him, Albus claimed that Harry had to remain there because of Lily's blood protection."

"Hmm..."

This was very interesting indeed. From what he knew, Harry Potter was being well cared for, and although Lily's sister, Petunia – Tuney, he sneered – was unpleasant and had been extremely jealous and hateful of Lily, he could not imagine the woman taking it out on her nephew, on Lily's child..

But hadn't I done the same thing? He thought. Wasn't I no better than Petunia, passing on my hatred for one of the boy's parents onto the child himself?

No, he hadn't been any better. But he was now; he saw past his hatred, the complete, unjustified hatred, and let that hatred remain where it belonged, now – with the boy's dead father. The man was dead, and Severus felt perfectly happy hating the man's memory. But Petunia... if she did hate the child the way she hated Lily when they were younger like Severus remembered, then it would not to be hard to imagine her treating Harry viciously, with the same contempt as her dead sister.

But surely, she had grown up, matured? Surely, by now, she would have let go of that hatred...?

Something in Severus told him that it wasn't likely.

Coming out of his thoughts, Severus observed her through his dark eyes as a brown owl swooped in to the Great Hall and a small note was dropped to Minerva. "Perhaps I will ask the boy about it."

She scoffed, affronted. "Why would he even tell you, Severus, with the way you treat him?"

He sighed. "Potter and I have reached an... understanding, as of late. I have overlooked my hatred for the boy's father and left said hatred in the past, where it belongs and shall remain. He is not his father, therefore I have nothing against him."

Her lips twitched. "Why, Severus. Never would I have thought that you'd come to like James Potter's son."

He glowered at her. "He is Lily's son also, Minerva, or have you forgotten?"

There was a moment's silence in which Minerva opened the note, and read it before shaking her head. But then she raised her eyes to meet Severus's gaze, and she smiled. "Of course I have not forgotten, Severus. But for the longest time, I had feared that you had. I am pleased you have let the past be left in the past and come to appreciate Lily's son. Do let me know if he speaks with you about his relatives, I must be going, Peeves is making a ruckus in the Gryffindor common room – "

And she swept past him.

When Harry came in to work on his last extra credit assignment in the dungeons that evening, chipper as ever, Severus decided he'd question the boy about what he and Minerva had discussed.

"I saw the list of the students staying over break this morning," He began, scowling as he printed a 'T' on an absolutely despicable attempt of an essay one of the idiotic students had done. He hated grading.

Through his lashes, he saw Harry fidget nervously. "You did, sir?"

"Yes," Snape answered, as he piled the paper among the others that were stacked beside him and turned obsidian eyes to look at Harry, "I saw you had decided to stay here for your holiday. I was curious as to why. Wouldn't you rather be at home with your relatives?"

Harry's eyebrows furrowed together, and a dark look appeared in his eyes as he scribbled harder on his paper. "Not really... sir. I would only be a bother to them."

Snape overlooked Harry's slightly hard tone and folded his hands together as he watched the small boy intently. His entire posture had changed. "What makes you think you'd bother them, Potter? They're your family. Surely they'd love to have you at home with them?"

Harry's shoulders hunched together, alerting Snape to the fact that the boy was becoming increasingly uncomfortable. "I just... can we please not talk about this, sir?"

"No, we can not," Snape said firmly. "I asked you a question, Potter. You'd do well to answer it."

The boy looked up from his work and glared at him. "I don't want to talk about the Dursley's, Professor. They don't want me there to ruin their holiday, and I don't want to be there so they can ruin mine. I want to be away from them for once!"

For a moment, the boy seemed to think he had said too much; he paled, and his eyes widened, and he made a move to get up and flee but Snape hissed, "You had better stay seated!" and Harry sat back down, swallowing thickly, and lowered his gaze back to the parchment.

"I just don't want to be there, Professor," The boy lowered his voice. "Please... can we just end talking about them? Please?"

Normally, Snape would not have done so. Normally, he would have pushed the issue further...

But because the boy had begged him, and he saw the tears threatening in the child's eyes, Snape gave a curt nod, and went back to his grading. "Very well, Potter. We will drop the subject for the time being. However, I will be mentioning it again, and I expect some answers when I do. Do you understand?"

Harry was glaring so fiercely at his parchment it would not have been unlikely if he'd burnt a hole in it. But he gave a stiff nod and an equally as stiff "Yes, sir," before he, too, went back to his work.

The rest of the lesson passed in silence, silence that both student and teacher were equally grateful for.

The rest of the week passed so quickly, that to Severus's amusement, Weasley seemed to have second thoughts about staying once he learned that the feared Potions Master would be as well.

"Why does Snape have to stay here?" He whispered frantically to Harry the first morning of the holidays at breakfast. "Doesn't the greasy bat have somewhere else to be, like, say, the zoo?"

"Mr. Weasley," Snape said silkily as he appeared behind the boys, and resisted the urge to smirk at the redhead's horror stricken expression. "Perhaps I ought to write your mother for your cheek? I daresay Molly would not be pleased with her son if she learned he was speaking so disrespectfully about one of his Professors, especially around the holidays, wouldn't you agree?"

Ron's ears went red. "No, sir. Sorry, sir." He mumbled.

Snape sneered at the apology and instead turned his attention to Harry, inclining his head. "Mr. Potter. You should perhaps help your friend acquire some breakfast and a seat lest I take points for the untimely entrances."

Harry nodded quickly. "Yes, sir." He lead Ron away, and content, Snape stalked towards the table, taking a seat next to Albus.

"Headmaster." He greeted respectfully.

"Ah, Severus, good morning to you!" Dumbledore was as cheerful as ever this morning, Severus noted grimly. "I take it you are keen to enjoy your holiday?"

"Indeed," He drawled as Ron and Harry, now both carrying their breakfast plates, sat down opposite them.

"Good morning, Mr. Potter, Mr. Weasley," The old man smiled, his blue eyes twinkling. "Are you enjoying your holiday thus far?"

Severus pinched the bridge of his nose. "Albus, Christmas break just began today."

"Oh, yes, yes," Dumbledore did not seemed chagrined at all that Severus had lightly chastised him and instead seemed to radiate even more, to Severus's continued annoyance. "Rather I should say, are you looking forward to the break?"

"Yes, sir," The boys answered in unison.

"Good, good!" Dumbledore beamed. "Now, as all of the professors except for Professor Snape, Professor Quirrel, Filch, and myself are gone for the holidays, I would like to remind you that should either of you need anything, you may come to any one of us. Ah, Quirinus, good morning!"

Severus saw Harry's eyes widen as Quirrel appeared behind him and the boy turned to look at him. Snape did not miss the animosity that passed Quirrel's eyes as he stared down at the boy, giving that fake, wide, twitchy smile at Snape had come to wish he could hex straight off.

"G-good mor-rning, Headmaster. S-S-Severus," He inclined his head at Snape. "Mr. P-P-Potter, Mr. W-W-Weasley."

Harry's face scrunched up as he turned back, and Severus could tell the boy had lost his appetite as he gazed disinterestedly back down at his food, and suddenly gave a wince as he raised his hand to his scar. Quirrel gave a smirk of amusement, and Snape had to stop himself from hexing the bastard right there and then.

"Are you all right, Harry?"Dumbledore asked the boy worriedly as Harry gave prolonged winces and rubbed at his scar furiously.

"Y-yeah," Harry hissed, closing his eyes tightly. "Just a quick pain, it'll go away in a moment..."

Snape's lip curled. "Or twenty, depending on, ah... present company. Potter, perhaps you ought to rest today."

As Ron gazed worriedly at him, Harry nodded, his hand still upon his scar as he stood. "Yeah," He replied shakily. "I don't feel so good..."

As he turned and met Quirrel's eyes, the boy gave a sharp cry of pain and he promptly fell over and collapsed.

"Harry!" Ron exclaimed, running to his best friend's aid. Dumbledore stood, and Severus made his way over to Harry in a flash, and pushed Quirrel away from the unconscious child as he joined Mr. Weasley in tending to him. "Move!"

"Oh, the dear boy!" Quirrel feigned shock as he regained his footing after Severus had shoved him to the side. "I do hope he is all right!"

At that moment, Harry awoke, pale and confused, but looking less sickly than moments before. "Professor?" He spoke softly as he recognized Snape and attempted to get up, but Snape shook his head and gently pushed the child back down.

"You collapsed, Potter. Don't attempt to get up for a while. I will fetch a pain relieving potion."

Snape got to his feet and glared hatefully at Quirrel before he swept from the Great Hall, robes billowing behind him.

Harry recovered quickly over the next two days. Christmas morning had indeed been a huge aid in the boy's mood as well, and with the task of getting into the Restricted section to find out more about the Nicholas Flamel hanging over him, Harry decided to take his father's old invisibility cloak that was now passed onto him as of this morning to do just that.

His hands were sweating profusely as he made his way into the Restricted section. Although he had the cloak, he still couldn't help but feel a little bit apprehensive. Of course, he knew he'd be discovered immediately if Quirrel were to find him. His scar would see to that. He did not know exactly what it meant that his scar hurt him every time Quirrel was around, but all the same, he wanted to avoid him if he could. So he prayed he would not find the man on his journey back.

The small section was dark and scary-looking, Harry thought. He could see why it was restricted. Even during the day, he was sure the aura of the room was the same, because a cold chill was sweeping up his spine that had nothing to do with thoughts of Quirrel.

He quickly pulled off the cloak and began his search. Fire Eaters. Fifteenth Century Fiends... but no Flamel. Although there was a book that he could not quite make out the last letter. Flame something. He'd take a chance. He pulled the book off of the shelf and flipped it open to a random page. At once, a face emerged from the book, eliciting a horrible scream.

"Agh!" Harry slammed the book shut and replaced it, heart hammering in his throat.

"Who's there?" Called a voice. Filch.

Harry's breath hitched. "Filch," He murmured, his heart still thumping loudly in his throat, and he snatched the cloak from underneath the lantern, causing it to fall to the floor with a loud shatter, glass spilling across the floor. He pulled the cloak back over himself as Filch rounded the corner where he had been just a moment before.

"Who is it? Show yourself!"

Harry, calmer now, slowly eased himself out of the door, back into the corridor. He did not even make it completely around the next corner when he gasped, as Professor Quirrel was tossed against the wall, much to Harry's shock, by Professor Snape.

"Severus, I-I thought, I..."

Snape was holding the man up by his collar, pinning him securely against the wall. "You don't want me as your enemy, Quirrel," He hissed. "I will not let you hurt Harry. Under any circumstances."

"W-What do you m-mean, S-Severus? Surely, you k-know, I'd never h-hurt that b-boy."

Harry was watching with baited breath. He didn't know why, but his heart felt warm...

Snape growled, pinning the man even more tightly. "You know perfectly well what I mean, Quirrel. Don't play me for fool, I am well aware what you are up to, especially in matters concerning Harry Potter. I am going to make this clear; you will not touch him. I will not permit it. Any attempt you make on his life, the pay back is going to come to you twice as strong. We'll have another little chat soon, when you've had time to decide where your loyalties lie."

Filch chose that moment to round the corner, and Snape hastily released Quirrel. "Ah, Professors." He held up a dead, broken lantern. "Just found this in the Restricted section. It's still hot, which means there's a student out of bed!"

"Ah," Snape replied, and Harry's heart plummeted as Snape looked to the spot where Harry was standing, as if he could see him clearly. "I'll be along in a moment," He said silkily, and Filch, and Quirrel, who thought better than to wait for Snape, took off at once. Once he made sure they were gone, Snape sighed. "Off with the cloak, Potter."

Feeling extremely guilty, Harry pulled off the cloak, not meeting his Professor's eyes as he stared at the ground, red in the face from embarrassment. There was silence, and not hearing the yelling he had expected, Harry looked up into Snape's face.

But Snape was pointing at the door just a little way's behind them. "In," He ordered, and Harry did not need telling twice. He obeyed at once, and Snape followed closely behind him until they were both in the room and Snape closed the door.

At once, he rounded on Harry. "You idiot child!" He barked, and Harry flinched, staring at the floor again. "What were you thinking? Students are not allowed to prowl the corridors at night, no matter if it's Christmas break or start of term! And yet you have done so! Hanging in the Restricted section to top it all off!"

Harry could not come up with anything to defend himself. He didn't need to. He had no reason, other than his own childish curiosity about Flamel, to justify what he'd done.

"50 points will be taken for this atrocious display of nighttime wandering, and you're lucky it will be just that, Potter!"

"Yes, sir," Harry said weakly, his voice cracking. His eyes were prickling, but he would not cry. He deserved to be yelled at, punished. He had done something wrong. Snape, one of his teachers, justifiably had every right to be angry.

"Even more so than your disregard for that rule, you decide to go knowing that Quirrel is stalking around and very well could mean you harm? I am protecting you with all I have, but you've got to act responsibly and keep yourself safe, Harry!"

The use of his first name broke the dam, and Harry choked as the tears made their way down his face. "I'm sorry, sir," He mumbled. Oh, he sounded so pathetic, he knew it...

Snape sighed and walked closer to the boy, putting a hand on his shoulder. "I'm sure you are. Don't let it happen again, Harry. Not only is it against the rules, but with that... man around, I don't trust you to be by yourself. Keep Weasley or Granger with you at all times from now on. Now, I would like to ask, why were you in the Restricted section..?"

Harry sniffed, and wiped at his eyes with his sleeve. "I was looking up some information," He said truthfully. "About Nicholas Flamel."

Snape raised an eyebrow. "And what did you desire with such information?"

"Well, it's about what that three-headed dog Fluffy is guarding... we ran into him on accident one day," He explained at the look on Snape's face. "Hermione thinks its guarding something, and Hagrid kinda let it slip that it is..."

Snape scowled. "That man needs to learn to keep his mouth shut."

"So it is guarding something?" Harry asked.

"Never you mind," Said Snape crossly. "It's not for you to meddle with, Harry. You and your friends need to concentrate on your classes. No more research about Flamel or anything about what that dog is guarding. It's a private matter and students should not know about it. No more, Potter," He added firmly when it looked like Harry might protest. "Or you won't like the consequences."

Harry, knowing that Snape was right, nodded, and for the first time, turned his attention to the room he had been brought into. It was small, and seemed to be completely empty except for... his eyes landed on it suddenly; a mirror, tall and large, was standing a few feet away from them. Turning towards it, Harry frowned. Why was there a large mirror in a room this small? And why was it secluded?

He didn't know why, but before he knew it, he was walking towards it, feeling as though it was waiting for him, drowning out Snape's voice as the man spoke to him, and he almost felt as if he were in a haze and he did not stop until he was directly in front of it. There was a beautiful red-haired woman and a man who looked just like him staring at him from the mirror, but when he turned to look, no one was behind him except Snape.

"Potter? Potter! Honestly! Ignore me again and it'll be detention when term resumes! I won't stand for – " Snape's snappish tone was suddenly close to him and Harry, broken out of his revere, turned to him to ask who the woman was, but the man had halted beside him, completely stiff, his eyes wide and face pale.

Brow furrowing in confusion, Harry looked back into the mirror. The woman was still there, and she was smiling brightly, her green eyes, the same as Harry's, alight in the exact same way his did when he was happy. The man was smiling too, his glasses slightly lopsided.

"Lily," Snape whispered brokenly, his voice sounding as if he had lived a thousand years of misery. Harry looked back at him.

"Lily...?" The boy asked.

Snape seemed to have forgotten Harry was there; his long hand reached out, his finger tips touching the glass, directly where Lily's face was. She smiled at him sadly. Harry found it absolutely confusing that he could not see Snape in the mirror. He could only see himself, the man, and the woman, who was still smiling at him, her hand laid gently upon his shoulder, a hand he could not feel. Suddenly, it dawned on Harry who this woman was. Who the man was. Who they were...

"Mum?" He choked, his eyes glistening with tears again. He reached to touch her face, but found only glass beneath his fingertips instead.

At hearing Harry's voice, Severus broke his attention away from the lovely woman in the mirror, his Lily, and stared down at her son. "Yes, Harry," He said softly. "That is Lily. That is your mum. The woman I love."

"You see her too, then?" The boy cried, fresh tears spilling down his cheeks. "But I don't see you, Professor... why can't I see you...?"

Snape looked back into the mirror. "I do not know, Harry. I do not see you, either. Just Lily."

"She's beautiful," Harry smiled, rubbing his sleeve at his eyes again. "Then... if she's my mum, then the man... he's my dad."

Snape stiffened. "Yes. Those are your parents, Potter."

Harry frowned up at him. "You said you saw just my mum... so you don't see my dad. I wonder why I can see them both and you can't, and why we can't see each other..?"

"It is a question for you as well as me, Harry," Snape sighed, and placed a hand on Harry's small shoulder. "We should be heading back." He announced. " It is late, and you need to be in bed."

Harry did not want to go, and as Snape lead him away from the mirror, he looked back at his mother longingly. She smiled back, almost as if she was encouraging him to go.

"Come along, Potter," Snape coaxed. "She would want you in bed."

Sighing, Harry nodded, and followed his teacher out of the room and into the corridor. As they departed, he could not help but look back again, wishing, that for one more moment, he could look at his mother's smiling face again. But he knew that if he could, he would never stop looking, because staring at her, for even just another moment, the woman who put down her life for him, to try and imagine what she was like in life, would not be enough.

It would never be enough.