Snape wasn't sure what was worse. Lily's child being killed, Lily's child working beside him as Voldemort's pawn, or himself being dead.
Decisions, decisions.
Unless...
Snape smiled wickedly. Perhaps, he was looking at this the wrong way. After all, it's only a secret if he doesn't tellanyone, and it's only dangerous if Voldemort is the one to learn about it. All he had to do was tell the right person and Lord Voldemort might never find out.
He it just so happened he knew the perfect person.
Harry stood on platform 9 3/4 and wondered why. He had flooed from Hogsmeade to King's Cross, to wait for a train that would take him right back to Hogsmeade. Mrs. Sleuw, while she had been fluttering about the kitchen making him a particularly large breakfast, had said it was a tradition. He personally thought it was a tradition he could do without.
The train station was thick with families and cats. A meaningless roar of voices punctuated by shouting and baby cries and owl shrieks and mewing. While Harry did have the benefit of leaving his luggage at Hogwarts, he had to remain constantly alert unless he was knocked by someone else's. He had intended to stay outside the train until he could meet up with Hermione, but the ruckus was getting bad enough that he started to worrying about injury. He squeezed passed a cluster of redheads and managed to board the train with only a bruised knee and a banged elbow.
Inside was chaotic, but not nearly as much as outside. The hallway was jammed with students dragging their trunks, broomsticks, and animal carriers as they searched for empty compartments or friends. Harry ducked into the first empty compartment he could find and kept the door open incase some of his friends should pass by. He made himself comfortable and stared out the windows at the menagerie of people talking, crying, hugging, and kissing. For a while Harry could imagine his mother and father out there, waving at him in the window.
"Harry!"
He turned to the door to see Hermione smiling at him. Behind her stood a boy with the palest blond hair he had ever seen. He recognized him immediately as Hermione's foster brother, Draco.
"Hermione, I was wondering when you would show up. I would have thought you would be the very first person to arrive."
"And I likely would have, but Draco kept dragging his feet this morning," she said, glaring half heartedly at her non-repentant sibling.
"You woke me up at 5 o'clock in the morning. Five," was all he said to that. He turned his cool, grey eyes towards Harry, taking in his modest clothes and wild hair. Harry could just barely detect the hint of a sneer he had no doubt learned from his godfather. After a moment, he held out his hand. "Draco Malfoy of the Malfoy family."
"Harry Potter." They shook, both perhaps a little tighter than was polite.
"Hermione!" someone called, distracting the girl. As she turned away, Draco stepped into the compartment and up close to Harry so he could speak softly into his ear.
"I don't know what impression my sister gave you over the summer, but don't think for a moment you have a chance with her. She's a Malfoy, and I won't have her name dragged through the mud by hanging out with muggleborn riff-raff. So you either turn out veryimpressive or don't turn up at all. Do we understand each other?"
Before he could respond, Draco moved away and took Hermione by the arm. "Come on, sister-dear. You can catch up with Harry later. You have other friends you haven't seen all summer on board."
Hermione threw him an apologetic look, but dutifully followed her brother down the hall. Harry just watched them disappear, blinking stupidly. Had he just been threatened by Hermione's 'sweet and charming' older brother? She had mentioned that he was a little over protective, but egad! He felt inexplicable torn from wanting to throttle the other boy to admiring him. Certainly, Harry didn't think he had enough confidence to go around threatening people for the sake of Hermione's honor.
Had he learned that from Snape too? Bloody hell, what had Hermione learned from the overgrown bat?
"Harry!" Clyde stood in the doorway grinning at him. He was flanked by twin red heads, who were looking more than a little mischievous. "Mind if we sit with you? The rest of the compartments are getting full."
"Sure, I could use the company."
"Oh, now, this-" started one of the twins, sliding inside.
"Must be, the illustrious-" continued the other.
"The infamous-"
"The indomitable-"
"Harry Potter," they finished in unison. Harry smiled.
"What have you been telling them about me, Clyde?"
The twins grinned at each other, and Clyde turned pink around the ears.
"Oh, we've heard quite a bit. Heard you were a real ladies' man."
"The two prettiest girls in the class are after you."
"And one a Malfoy, no less!"
"You player!" they said again in unison. At this Harry turned pink and turned a glare at Clyde, who was looking a bit sheepish.
"Ignore them!" he said, "They just like to tease everyone!"
It wasn't long before the train whistle blew and the train began to move, pulling away from the station and the horde of people waving goodbye. The twins and Clyde both waved to some people in the crowd.
"And if you don't mind me asking," Harry said, as they all settled in. "Who are you two?"
Both twins shared a sad sigh, as they gave mock disappointed looks at Clyde.
"You mean Clydiekins hasn't mentioned us?"
"I was trying to forget about your entire existence."
"I am Fred-"
"And I am George-"
"Don't believe them! It's probably the other way around!"
"Weasley of the Houghton family. We're Clydiekin's uncles."
"Uncles?" Frankly, Harry wasn't sure how that was possible. The twins only look a year or two older than Clyde.
"Yes, his uncles. It's a rather interesting story," said the boy who introduced himself as Fred (and probably lied).
"You see, our sweet nephew here has a muggle mummy-"
"And a wizard daddy, who alas-"
"Didn't make it through the war. So his mummy hid him away-"
"Until he was six-"
"And did a bit of accidental magic. Then in swoops WYRA. But it's learned that our dear sweet nephew, has living wizarding grandparents-"
"Who quickly take custody of their grandson, but not before adopting George and I-"
"I thought you said you were George," Harry pointed out.
"Semantics. Hush! Anyway, since we're the Houghton's adopted kids, and Clyde is their grandson..."
"You're his uncles. I get it," Harry said and sighed. "Jeesh. And I thought I had family drama issues."
"There you two are!" Another redhead entered the compartment. While Harry could easily see the family resemblances, the boy's demeanor couldn't have been more different from the others. He looked rather prim and proper, without a hint of humor.
"Percival! You old dog. What have you been up to?" asked Fred- or George- as they both rose to wrap him in their arms. 'Percival' tensed up and, as soon as they released him, checked his persons for any tricks they may have played. He was rather quick to find the sign on his back and the exploding ink cap in his pocket.
"Yes, yes. Nice to see you too," he muttered, then looked back, "I found them, Ronald."
Yet another redhead appeared in the doorway, the same age as Harry, and looking a bit timid. This was not helped by the fact that his much taller brothers, immediately began cooing over him like he was an adorable infant.
"Oh, I remember when you were just this tall! You used to take off your clothes and run around the house naked! Mum and dad would run after you, picking up your nappies as they went!"
"I was three!"
"