Technically you don't need to read the prequel to understand this sorta like how you could start any series without reading the one before. I don't own nothing of the Harry Potter series. This is just for fun.

Let's begin!

+—

The man stumbled through the streets, unseeing and desperate. He held out his hands and pleaded silently—only silently because his throat refused to work—for someone, anyone to help him, to hear him. Please, please! But he knew that the houses were empty. He had timed his arrival and his stupid, stupid search to coincide with the town's festivities. His legs shook with the effort to keep standing, keep. Going. Forward.

It was dark. Too dark to be natural. He rubbed at his eyes with one hand, nails scratching down his face but he couldn't feel it. It had to hurt, he could tell that his hands were becoming slippery with the blood he was no doubt drawing but, but this darkness. So, so dark. It wasn't just his eyes. It swallowed him whole, encased his every sense until he was sure it was inside his very soul. It was so cold and silent but he hoped. He thought maybe, just maybe he was actually making noise, screaming at the top of his lungs. Maybe his body and magic was fighting back, trying to push away this horrible, unfeeling darkness.

Cold. Why was it so cold? This town, this entire country was a sweltering, dry desert. It had been so hot that he had stopped sweating after just an hour and water seemed to evaporate out of his canteen of dry upon leaving his wand. But, but it wasn't like that now. He was cold. It was cold. Like ice had found a home in his heart and spread through his veins.

"Yoooouuuu haaavveee fooounnnddd meee. Aren't you haappppyyy?" Evil. Hateful. Amused. His legs buckled under him and he fell face first on the dusty ground or he thought he did. He felt weightless. Defeated by this voice, this evil that he did, indeed, bring onto himself. Foolish. Stupid. The voice chuckled but not in his ears. It was inside him. It was the ice cold in his heart and the darkness surrounding him. It pressed into his brain, wrapped itself around his magical core and became him. He became him. He who must not be named.

Lord Voldemort.

Slowly, he felt the world come back. The first thing he noted was the hot tears and sticky snot that was smeared around his face. He lost the battle. He had fought as long as he could walk. Slowly, his eyes focused on the nearest house that he could make out from his limp position on the ground. Fresh tears fell down his face, burning the cuts he had caused. Two meters. He had made it two pathetic, weak meters.

"Get. Up. Quuuiiirrriiinusssss," the evil dark lord fragment commanded. He didn't want to get up. He wanted to lay there until his body decayed of its own will but his limbs gathered themselves to push him onto his knees then his feet. He moved… oddly. Like a puppet in the hands of an inexperienced puppeteer. But he was moving, one foot in front of the other even as he shook and trembled. This was terrifying. He was so, so scared. He could feel the evil scraping slowly through his mind, scratching and scoffing and laughing at his memories, at his thoughts.

"Paaathettticccc. You thought you could defeat me? Even liiiikkkeee thissss you are weaker. I have shaken hands with children stronger than yooouuuuu." Quirinus flinched, tried to flinch, from the horrible words he couldn't quite deny. He was pathetic. He was weak. Magically, physically and mentally. He would have fainted by now if not for this puppeteer act. Even as a teacher at a successful and established school like Hogwarts he was still the bottom of the barrel. He couldn't even keep control of his class—not that it was a real subject anyway but they laughed at him. They pulled horrible pranks on him and mocked him. Even his colleagues knew he was lesser.

What would they think of him now? Dumbledore would laugh him right out of the school gates. He muffled a sob—was allowed to muffle a sob with a hand stuffed in his mouth. Pathetic. Stupid. Weak.

"Pooooor Quirinus. Dooo nooot fret. I can make you stronger. I can make you beeeeetttteeerrrr. For heeelllppping me, noouurriisshhhing me I will make you stronger than you ever dreamed. No one will ever laaauuugghhh at you again." Quirinus stopped in front of the shop, looking into the red eyes that laid over his and the sharp tooth smile that curled on his lips. Really? He could be stronger? He could make people respect him? "Yeeesss. Of coooouuurrrssseeee. Feeeeed me and then we shallll begggaaannnnnn."

+—

Rain poured outside during a late, hot summer evening. Only one light remained on at 4 Privet Drive in the middle room housing two ten-almost-eleven year old boys. They sat on their large beds, facing each other with their legs crossed and knees almost touching. Their eyes were shut and they took deep breaths in and out together. It was peacefully quiet. Too quiet. The black haired boy slid open one brilliantly green eye to look to his twin. The boy's pale face was void of any emotion to the point where Harry thought he might be sleep. He leaned forward just a bit, breath held to not give him away that he was so close.

"Close your eyes, Harry," the redhead commanded, causing Harry to jerk backwards.

"You close your eyes, Severus," Harry huffed even as he followed the order. It was quiet once more but, honestly Harry was so bored of all this meditating. He hated these new lessons on top of the ones with writing with a quill and using parchment and all sorts of stuff that was completely boring on top of the homework they had at school. It still wasn't a challenge for Severus—nothing was a challenge for Severus but Harry wasn't Severus. It had been a awful struggle to climb from the bottom all the way into the top five where Severus insisted he be. There were dozens of sleepless nights of studying that got him there and he was very proud of himself but it was only fair that when they were out of school that they not do school like work. Meditating fell under that.

Harry groaned and flopped backwards on their bed, looking up at their ceiling. He still wasn't sure how he had convinced Aunt Petunia to let him paint it but he thought it looked like a real sunny sky and he thought that maybe he would get the chance to add some birds to it. Harry groaned again and kicked out, careful to not hit his brother. Severus would take it as a challenge or some roundabout, secret way that Harry really did want fighting lessons—which he did not. Harry has never been so sore in his entire ten years of life. He would much rather be painting something or taking pictures. When was the last time he got to do that?

"These lessons are important and you should treat them that way. If I had a wand I could show you just how painful it is to have your mind forcibly opened," Severus sniped, glaring at him with one brown eye. Harry stuck out his tongue most childishly but he couldn't help it. This sudden seriousness in his lessons and adamant belief that he'd never see his 'muggle' friends again scared him and made him a little angry. Why couldn't he have both of best worlds? It wasn't fair to even consider giving up the twins or Nate.

"What are the chances that someone will even do that? You said that Legitimacy is obscure magic that nobody knows about," Harry rolled off the bed to grab his sketch pad and a pencil—not a stupid quill. For good measure he knocked one of the quills over and hope it broke even though Severus had purchased seven of them.

"Legilimency, Harry. Legilimency," Severus sighed. "And it isn't that nobody knows about it. It is that only few care about it and are powerful enough to master it. It is also not what I want you to learn. I want you to be able to shield your mind with Occulmency."

"But whhhyyyy?" Harry whined as he pushed up his glasses (round ones like his dad because he was mature now) and bent over his sketch. It was of Surajmukhi facing a window with a small and pretty smile on her face. She still had the prettiest smile in the whole world and, by now, he knew that it wasn't because she was the only girl he knew. Being that she was the prettiest girl, his sketch wasn't nearly as good as he thought it could be. On the other hand being pretty meant that she was also very, very nice and kind and amazing so she'd love his drawing even if it was just three circles and some dots.

Harry gritted his teeth and maybe pressed too hard on the curve of her ear. He didn't care what Severus said, insisted or demanded. He wouldn't just give Surajmukhi up like that. No, he'd write to her all the way from the Arctic if he had to! And he knew she'd write back.

Severus pinched the bridge of his nose and pulled in every urge he had to attack his twin. He really loved him, he did but for the last week Harry's been acting like a whiny brat. A week of nonstop complaining and refusing to take his studies seriously and now Severus's nerves were frayed. Hogwarts was literally around the corner and he needed Harry to learn these skills and he couldn't tell the boy why. Severus sighed and put a hand over his eyes.

His ma and pa kept many secrets from him from their identities to his birth parents but they never, ever kept the facts of what they faced from him. Maybe the name of their attacker but never the fact that they were being attacked—hunted really. Hunted by a danger that was fast, relentless and crafty. It got them in the end and spared him for some reason, perhaps because he was a child or maybe he had been hidden. The memory eluded him but it made not a difference in the secret he kept from Harry and planned rovers keep for as long as he could.

Because this was different. He absolutely had to keep this secret from Harry. Harry was just starting to act like a normal kid so how could he ruin that by burdening him with the knowledge that there was a great danger—a dark lord—after him and only him? From what he could tell this dark lord knew nothing of Severus and therefore wanted nothing to do with him so it was Harry he worried about, Harry he wanted to protect even if it was to give him the taste of a danger free Wizarding world.

Severus figured he would wait until their second or third year, after Harry had a wand and got used to it. For now he tried to drill in lessons that his ma and pa taught him as soon as he could talk. Without a wand his lessons were muggle in nature; escape drills (that Harry excelled at and seemed to enjoy), self defense, and meditation that would be the first layer of Occlumency.

If he had a wand… Severus briefly wondered (as he was prone to do) what happened to his ma's wand. She taught him simple spells with it and even though it wasn't made for him, it still reacted when she guided his hand and whispered the words in his ear even though he knew them, could say them. His heart constricted a little bit, just a soft pinch compared to the horrible squeeze from four years ago. He still missed them so much it hurt but he had also opened his heart enough to stop calling his biological mum and dad 'Lily and James'. He had even taken to looking at the photo album he gifted to Harry and admired the features they shared. They looked like nice, happy people.

"Why'd you let Alex hit you?" A gentle hand pressed into the small bruise in its final stages of healing. Severus opened his eyes to see his concerned twin and felt all the anger leave his body. He brushed the hand aside and picked up what was turning into a favorite book of his: Wandering with Werewolves. It was absolute rubbish by some idiot who shouldn't even have a wand much less writing books. This Lockhart man was good for a laugh or five. "I still don't get it! You could beat that prat with your hands tied behind your back—I mean you gave him a good thrashing but you let him punch you in the face!"

"His mum is sick," Severus reminded his twin. The fight Alex put up was more than a little pathetic but he supposed the boy thought Severus would brush him off as he normally did at school and amongst their friends. He hadn't. He rose to the challenge by tying up his hair and gave the boy until the time he finished to get ready. He hadn't. Then Severus delivered a right hook so clean that he was sure his pa was applauding. Severus justified his violent response with the fact that this was the last year he'd seen the annoying boy. It was only right to grant his wish to fight Severus one on one with their bare fists. In retrospect that wish might not have included having a tooth knocked out but that was less Severus's problem and more Alex's.

"Are you ever going to tell me why he doesn't like you? I know you know why," Harry gently brushed his pencil across the bridge that made Surajmukhi's nose. The harsh line on the ear actually wasn't bad, he had decided. The black haired boy thought that maybe he had a bit of a talent for drawing or maybe it was all the hard work he put into it. Practice, practice, practice Miss Sharp has encouraged last year.

"It is really inconsequential," Severus rolled his eyes. Harry asked him every time the boy did or said something spiteful so the question was posed very often but it was so petty that Severus didn't feel it was worth his time to explain the situation. It was so petty that Alex didn't even share it with anybody except Nate and he only told the future witch doctor in hopes of causing a wedge in their friendship. It didn't work, obviously but it still irritated Severus into driving his fist just a little bit harder than necessary when he punched the boy in the gut. Severus pushed his victim out of his mind and went back to the hilarious 'book'.

They fell into a comfortable silence.

Harry observed his brother out the corner of his eye, hand still shading. He had been waiting for the right time to bring this up and he was very, very sure that this was that time. He swallowed hard and adapted the calm air of Nate. So the calmest air.

"Hey Severus?" Harry started casually.

"Hm?"

"You know you're always teaching me something all the time but I got a cool idea. How about I teach you something?" Harry kept his eyes on his sketchpad but he knew some things about his brother. Severus had secrets but two things he couldn't hide was his almost insane level of curiosity and his arrogance both of which would have the redhead questioning just what Harry said of all people could offer to teach him that wasn't absolutely useless. It was silent still. He risked a look at his brother to see his eyes still locked onto the funny book he was currently obsessed with but his toes were flexing against their comforter and he hadn't flipped the page yet. Harry counted under his breath. One… two…

"Speak," Severus closed his book with an audible thud. Harry kept up his casual air and sat his sketchbook to the side. Slowly, he met shining brown eyes that were the only giveaway to his curiosity.

"Parseltongue." Harry said firmly. There was no need to beat around the bush.

Silence.

"That's—." Ha! Harry was prepared for his brother to argue so he shut it down immediately with his well rehearsed speech.

"Why is it dark magic or considered evil? I've done nothing to learn it and I've never hurt anyone with it. Maybe if more people knew it then they wouldn't be so scared of it and—-and… why you lookin at me like that?" Severus had a weird, little smile on his face and his eyes looked all gooey and warm. It disturbed Harry just a little.

Severus, meanwhile, just felt very proud of his brother. Despite these three years of relative peace Harry still had a problem arguing and asking for things he wanted. Of course the thing he wanted was to teach Severus something that would label them dark wizards before they did any spellwork. That wasn't really a problem to Severus. The problem for him was the spine tingling fear he felt. For some reason, just the thought of Parseltongue flooded his senses with fear. It didn't make sense when he isolated the thought but something inside him screamed that he avoid it at all cost. Images of burnt bodies and the smell of decay passed by but they weren't memories. Not his memories or memories shown to him. Even the books he's read on the subject did not support the things he thought happened to snake speakers. But it seemed so real to him. The fear, the images, even the smell.

It was illogical. All of it. However, his instincts were rarely wrong. Then again they were ever this illogical and paranoid.

"Okay, you can teach me Parseltongue," he agreed then held up a hand to stop his brother from being too excited, "BUT! You will learn Occlumency AND basic self defense. You don't need to know how to hurt anyone but you should learn to break holds, get away from larger opponents and minimize attacks. Also, you have to continue to keep being a Parselmouth a secret."

"Deal!" Harry shouted, scrambling to his original spot but not the meditate. It was best to get the language lessons started now.

+—

Minerva watched her students file out the door, chattering to themselves and saying their goodbyes to teachers and fellow students alike. She waved until the doors slid closed behind them and continued to stare for a few more seconds. Oh she would miss those stress inducing children until the start of the next year and miss those who had left for good. A wistful smile appeared on her lips. This year's graduation had been absolutely beautiful especially considering the destructive force of both Charles Weasley and Nymphadora Tonks. It was only the treat of a marvelous letter of recommendation that convinced Nymphadora to change her hair from the absolutely hideous yellow she had settled on into a nice golden color. It clashed so horribly with her robes Minerva almost vomited. A quick threat involving calling Molly Weasley had her Gryffindor straightening his act in two seconds but still. Never knew with those two.

Minerva sighed. That was all over now. Nymphadora was going to pursue a career in law enforcement and she just knew that girl would do well and Charles… well, Minerva wasn't quite sure what he wanted to do. He had the talent to go into a lot of fields but the young man still seemed undecided when he accepted his papers. She had a feeling he'd do what he's always dreamed of despite the worry it would cause his mother. Dragons, really. Minerva shook her head and made her way through the empty halls to the Headmaster's office. All of her colleagues had already packed up and left, she would too but she just had to check something really quick.

She felt almost silly for doing this but she just couldn't convince herself to stop. It had become a habit after four years. She snuck into the grand office, still rolling her eyes at the little shiny trinkets that were meant to distract and entertain their students. She remembered the Headmaster before Albus. He was quite the strict man, a bit of an arsehole to be honest but he, at least, didn't show favoritism or treat students like toddlers to be distracted. It was his only redeeming quality. That and his nice butt. Could bounce a sickle off that buttocks. A childish giggle erupted from her.

"Concentrate, you silly lady," Minerva chided herself. She pulled a large, heavy book from the shelf stuffed with many interesting titles and made herself comfortable in Albus's chair. That man really knew his chairs, it was warm and very comfortable. She tilted the book to lean against the desk and rest on her lap and turned to its first page.

Class of 1998

Minerva scanned through the names she would be saying in a short few months, recognizing surnames and groaning at some (another Weasley!? That would be four Weasleys in one year!) but she soon arrived to the name she was the most excited about. A few joyful tears pricked at the corner of her eyes.

"Severus E. Potter," she whispered, not too loud as though the name would disappear if spoken with too much hope. Oh how she just couldn't wait to meet this boy, look into his eyes and see how much a better childhood had changed him.

"I won't have to drag you away from their home this time, will I?" Albus chuckled from the doorway. Minerva jumped, pulling the book to her chest. She glared at the old man for being a sneak but she couldn't hold it long because it was a valid question and she held zero shame in her past actions.

Minerva had tried to sneak off and see him no less than ten times. She had had no plans to speak with him and used her animal form each time. She just wanted to see him with her own two eyes. Albus, being the omnipotent wizard that he sometimes seemed, had caught her each time with some very harsh chastising to lower her ears. However, on her last trip just three months ago, she had seen him. It was just a glimpse in the second floor window but it was enough to drown out the finger wagging, glamoured old man. Severus had been laughing, full on leaned against the window laughing. She almost didn't recognize him without the greasy black hair, over large nose and almost grey skin but that was her Severus. She could feel it. And he was so happy.

"No, no. I am satisfied that they will be here next year," Minerva did wish that she had seen Harry as well but she knew that the protective streak in her Severus was even bigger than that magnificent brain of his. If Severus was happy then so was Harry, she would bet her magic on it ten times over. Oh she could not wait to teach him again! She wiped at her eyes to make sure they were dry before she closed the book and guided it back to its home. She stroked its spine gently, it would be the last year she looked at it. She turned back to the old fool who was her boss, giving him a half glare. He had promoted her to her Deputy Headmistress this year, which made her suspicious but also gave her more work. Such as making sure her Headmaster wasn't lollygagging.

"Have you found a new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor?" She frowned with a raised brow. The last one just sort of… broke. The woman had gone insane for no good reason and went running into the Forbidden Forest like the Devil was on her tail. Luckily the centaurs were feeling benevolent and sent her back with only a few scrapes and bruises. Tied up of course. It was such a pity, to lose such a competent teacher like that. Miss Graham had been an absolute joy to work with and Minerva had hoped to see her in a year or three.

"Indeed I did although I dare say it will come as a surprise who applied for the job," Albus playfully wiggled his bushy brows.

"After who you hired to teach Potions, I vowed to never be surprised again," Minerva said dryly.

"Quirinus Quirrell." Oh. That was a surprise. That man was beyond a coward and had a stutter so bad it was hard for him to even get spells through his chattering teeth. He fainted so often Minerva assigned one of her lions per year to keep an eye on him in class and to cast a cushioning charm on the floor just in case. They also had some smelling salts to use on him as well. She eyed Albus, a feeling in her gut telling her that whatever had sparked that subpar wizard to be interested in that position was the same thing that had caused Albus to agree.

She sighed.

There went any hope that this would be a peaceful year to enjoy with her boy. But at least he was coming.

TBC

Short chapter but don't be fooled. The rest shall be longer. Guess who'll be the Potions professor! Betcha can't. Wink. Wink.