Open Fire.
Summary: Harry starts having visions of a boy who has suffered just as much as he. Trying to find a way to communicate with him, Harry finds himself flung into a world far from his own, and comes to a deeper understanding of the feared Potion Master.
Warnings: Slash – RLSS, child abuse, mental illness such as schizophrenia, Depression and Bipolar Disorder, not to mention the usual blood, guts and violence. And swearing.
Notes: This is ultimately a Snape story, just told through the eyes of Harry. It will cross over into the worlds of Stargate: SG1 – namely with Dr Daniel Jackson – as well as Lord of the Rings, with major roles played by Glorfindel, Elladan and Elrohir. It's also been ages since I've seen/read LOTR, so any inconsistencies, I apologize.
This is intended to be my first longer Harry Potter story, so reviews would be greatly appreciated.
Chapter One.
He walks blindly through the thick bushes, stray branches scratching his face and hands as he moves forward, towards what, he did not know. Just that he needed to move forward, compelled by an unforeseen force to continue.
Twigs snapped beneath his feet, occasionally digging into his bare soles, but he paid it not attention. Nothing mattered but his destination, even the fact that this dense forest was as black as night, to the point that it appeared dead, went unnoticed by this young man.
As he travelled deeper, something in the back of his mind recalled a similar situation, a similar forest that held the same haunted feeling, which instilled the same sense of fear and foreboding that latched itself to your subconscious and would not release until you returned well into the circles of safety.
But it was easily quashed, as the need to arrive overtook him, over rode any rational feeling he may have felt.
Suddenly, he breaks into a steady jog, which quickly develops into a run, branches hitting him with every step, but he easily ignores the pain, because he knows he has arrived, his destination is just beyond these trees.
Suddenly, he comes to a halt, as light begins to fill the once pitch black forest, so bright he is forced to shield his eyes from the unexpected onslaught.
As quickly as the bright light hits him, it dissipates, until only a slight shimmer of light basks the area.
It is not as dead as it appeared.
Around him, trees reach far up, into the clouds, flowers blossom in every foreseeable direction, while a small trickle of water runs by his feet, joining a much larger river just meters away.
It was beautiful.
His eyes darted around, in search of something, until they came to rest on a tree-like figure in the distance. He looked for intently at it, realising is was indeed a building, built around the trees, with a small courtyard in the centre. The architecture was astonishing.
He quickly moved towards the structures, but stoped suddenly when he heard a high-pitched noise ring through his ears.
It was laughter, he quickly realised, berating himself for such foolishness.
His heart slowed to it's normal pace and he continued towards the building once again. The laughter became louder, and he realised, belonged to a young child. It was soon joined by the voices of two older men, playfully teasing the child.
He made his way towards a tree, silently climbing up to gain a better view. He looked down and saw the two men whose voices he'd heard. Identical, they were, with a mischievous glint in their eyes. They reminded him of two other identical men, with the same cheekiness about them, though a little younger, with messy flaming red hair. Not the beautiful long brown hair that belonged to the two below him.
A boy, no older than four, rushed past the two, in a state of hysterics. He ran circles around the two older men, his own long black hair trailing after him. Running passed the first, the second man quickly threw the little boy over his shoulder, clearly surprising the child. He tried to free himself, but was met with the cheeky smiling face of his older companion, who spoke to him in a language not understood by the boy watching the happy scene play out.
Moving his glance away from the scene, he saw an older man, with flowing long blonde hair, standing by a pilar, watching the scene play out as well. A small smile played on the older man's lips, as he lent a little against the pilar, crossing his arms across his chest.
But as he looked deeper into the man's eyes, he saw more than the happiness he himself was feeling. He saw pain, and grief and suffering. And fear, as if he knew the horrors that would lie ahead.
For, without warning, the tranquil scene quickly dissolved, as masked intruders invaded the small paradise. He was in awe of the transformation of the older man, as in an instant, he was no longer the sweet paternal figure he has assumed he was. He was now a warrior, armed with a mighty bow and curved sword with intricate carvings from the handle to the tip.
He looked towards the other three. The two men now also looked ready for battle as the enemy moved in around them. One, he saw, lent down and whispered something to the terrified child. He could see the fear and the anger burning all at once in the small child's eyes.
He had been told to run and hide, the boy in the tree knew it. He didn't know how, but he knew. But it was too late, the enemy was moving in around them.
Three against a countless army.
They jumped into the trees, firing at the onslaught, taking down many with just their arrows. Clearly, they were a force to be reckoned with, regardless of their appearance, they were quick capable warriors.
In spite all the odds, was believed there was a chance they could win this battle. But as soon as the thought entered his mind, he saw the older warrior fall, his wonderful carved sword still tightly in his grasp.
As the warrior collided with the hard cobble ground, he heard a voice ring out across the valley, of the small child he had heard laugh only 15 minutes before.
His small, strangled voice could be heard across the valley, as he screamed out, "Ada! No!!'"
Harry woke with a start, terrified he was to be the next killed, and for the four he'd been watching.
He slowly took in his surroundings, Dorms…Griffindor Tower… and only when he was sure he was safe did he allow himself to breathe again.
It was still pitch black out, so he was sure the others would still be half asleep. Slipping into the shoes he kept by his bed, and removing a small book from his bedside draws, he tiptoed as quickly as he could into the common room. If he gained nothing else from the Dursley's, at least he now knew how to be dead quiet and not wake a sole.
He had been having dreams such as these for over a week now, but never had they been so real. He'd seen scraps of faces, places such as the one he'd visited tonight. The seemingly secret paradise filled with the happy men with long hair. But never, had he felt like he was there, never had it been coherent enough for him to take anything tangible from his nightly escapades.
But tonight, he remembered it as though he'd actually lived it. He'd seen bloody battle, he'd heard the voices of the people involved. He wanted to ignore it, It's just a dream after all Harry. He would hear a voice say. Funny how his voice of reason spoke exactly like Hermione.
He took a set in the far corner, whispering a quick and low Lumos, he pulled out a quill left by one of his housemates and quickly wrote down the details of his latest dream.
Dumbledore had requested it when he informed the Headmaster of his visions of Voldemort. They had stoped a while ago, but Harry found comfort in continuing to write about his dreams. It was soothing, somehow.
But his sanctuary was soon destroyed by the entrance of another person, who has now standing in entrance opposite Harry.
"Oh, sorry, I didn't…Harry?"
Harry smiled as he recognised the voice, and noticed the large pile of books in the arms of the owner. Only Hermione would be studying at this outrageous hour He thought to himself.
She moved over to her friend, putting the books down on the desk beside her, "What are you doing up their early?" he inquired, trying, and failing to see what he was writing about.
"I could ask you the same question, but judging by all those books.."
Hermione rolled her eyes, "NEWTs, Harry. In June"
He had to laugh, only to be met by her exasperated expression, "'Mione, it's February. You have a little time yet"
Ready to launch into lecture on the importance of said exams, she caught his mischievous smile, and knew he was only stirring. "..And you better keep it down too, wouldn't want someone walking out on us. Imagine the rumours" he teased.
She smirked, "Ron would have you head for moving in on me.." she whispered back, trying in vain to not laugh.
"I'd imagine he'd have something, though I doubt he'd start with my head" Harry responded, to which Hermione couldn't help but laugh at. Even if someone did walk out, the entire school knew that she and Ron together. And going steady.
And most of Griffindor house knew that the chances of Harry chasing Hermione, or any girl for that matter, was as high as Voldemort inviting Dumbledore over for a nice little tea party. And not hurting one and other.
Taking a seat next to him, she pulled out the top book, one that Harry doubted was on their reading list. "So you didn't answer me, why are you up so early?"
"Couldn't sleep" he answered matter-of-factly, as he shut his tattered little book.
Hermione just nodded, knowing if he wished to speak of the source of his insomnia, he would in his own time.
She opened her book, and Harry, for lack of anything better to do, grabbed one himself.
Might even learn something.
But judging by the enormous size of the book, and the tiny script it held, he doubted he'd make much sense of The Ancient Races of Earth.
Still, he opened the book, idly flicking through the pages, until he reached a picture that caught his attention. Bringing his wand up to inspect the picture under more light, he strained his memory to recall why it looked so familiar.
Then it hit him – the lush green trees, the rivers, the perfect architecture that looked at one with the nature surrounding it.
"Hermione, where is this?" He asked, pointing at the page in front of him.
She turned from her own book, peering at the picture Harry was pointing at. "Ah, it's mythical. It's called Rivendell in English, but I've seen it referred to Imlardris before too" she paused to look at the picture again, "It's beautiful, isn't it?"
Harry could only mutely nod, confused and slightly worried it had appeared in his dreams so constantly.
"Wait, you said it's only mythical?"
"Yes. Some wizards believe the place never even existed. Some of them say the entire race to which it was believed to have originated is too merely a fabrication. They did go looking for it about a decade ago, the few who believe in it. They found evidence it may have once existed, but nothing conclusive. Professor Binns is starting it in our next History of Magic class"
Usually, that was when Harry would make a sarcastic remark of the excitement he felt going into said classes, but he was too enthralled by what he was seeing, "Do you believe in the place 'Mione? The people who lived there?"
She looked a little confused, Harry wasn't the type to have so much interest in a class even she had trouble staying awake in. "I...well…yes. Yes, there is evidence indicating it's more than just a fairy tale." She paused for a second, as she realised the sun was rising outside the common room window, "And it's nice to believe that such a wonderful place can exist in a world like this"
Harry nodded, still deep in thought, "Do you mind if I borrow this book?"
"Sure, go for it. I've read most of it anyway"
"Thanks Mione" he smiled, as the new rays started streaming through the window. Only when he went to turn, did Hermione notice his face.
"Harry, how did you get those scratches on your face?"
Confused, Harry brought his hand to his face, and sure enough, tiny scratches and little trails of dried blood remained on his face, "Oh. Seamus' cat. I don't think she likes me too much." He smiled, lying with ease.
Hermione mumbled something under her breathe on the intelligence of the cat, but not in so many words. Harry knew that said cat and Crookshanks didn't really get along.
Harry, with the book safely tucked under his arm, made his way back to his dorm, determined to figure out the mystery surrounding his latest dreams.
To Be Continued.
Reviews would be nice.
No really. They would.
No. Really.
Ok, I'm bored. Review, please kids :D