What Really Happened by Snarry4ever

Description: The story that we all know and love is not what really happened to Harry Potter. Severus Snape decides to write how it really happened.

Rating: For now, G+

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or Severus Snape or any of the ideas contained in this story, except for the plot. That honor belongs to J.K. Rowling.

Part 1

Harry walked into his best friend's quarters without knocking- it was not necessary after all. His friend was- as per usual- reading a book. What was unusual was that it was a small paperback, with several others stacked on the coffee table in front of him, all varied colors and sizes.

"What are you reading this time?" Harry asked the other man.

Severus Snape looked at him seriously. "A version of what the muggles think happened during your years at Hogwarts."

Harry looked at him, confused. "What-" he grabbed the book from Severus and looked at the spine "-this Rowling- who is that by the way? I've never met her or him- didn't get the story right?"

Severus peered condescendingly at him. "That's exactly what I'm saying. The only thing she got right was our names..." His voice trailed off in a sigh. "Let's see. According to this J.K. Rowling person, you are... a Gryffindor-" he continued despite Harry's exclaimed 'What?!' and peals of laughter- "ahem, a Gryffindor, you are best friends with Ronald Weasley, I was your worst enemy after Voldemort and Draco, your eventual girlfriend and wife is Ginerva Weasley..." Harry cut him off again. "You're joking."

Severus shook his head. "It's all right here. And this is what the muggles believe to be the truth about you- and me. This woman needs to get the facts straightened out." He looked at the stack of books in disgust.

Severus looked up and noticed Harry had that look on his face. That 'I have a brilliant plan that is completely ridiculous and will drive my potion's professor crazy' look. "What? Why do you have that look on your face?" he questioned the younger man.

Harry grinned in that worrisome way again. "Why Severus, I just got an absolutely perfect idea."

"And what would that be?" the potions master asked sarcastically.

"Why don't you write the real story and tell them what really happened? So they can get their facts straight and all." Harry looked very satisfied with himself after saying this.

Severus looked at Harry in surprise. 'You know,' he thought, 'that's not a half bad idea. Not that I'm going to tell him that of course. Has a big enough head as it is.'

"That, Mr. Potter is one of the stupidest ideas you have ever come up with, and that is saying something. Of course I won't tell the truth to the muggles," he muttered. "Not that they would believe me anyway, after reading that load of baloney."

Harry just laughed and the matter was forgotten.

However, later that night after Harry had gone to bed, Severus got out the ancient typewriter and began to type.

HPSSHPSSHPSSHPSSHPSS

What REALLY happened concerning a certain Harry James Potter,

a novel by Severus Tobias Snape, June 1999

First off, let me tell you that this is a first hand account of the life of Harry James Potter as written by me, his supposedly evil nasty potions professor. I say supposedly because the story you know of him is blatantly false. None of what J.K. Rowling wrote is the truth. I am here to tell you the true story...What really happened.

But let me begin at the beginning.

I was born on January 9-

No not that beginning.

How I became a death eater...

Well it certainly wasn't by choice. Or at least, not totally by choice. My father, Tobias Snape was a muggle. And a bastard. He was also a mean, aggressive drunk. He never could hold down a job for long so it seemed his main occupation was drinking. And beating. At first it was just my mother. However, when I got old enough to protest the abuse, he began taking his anger out on me. He said he would let up on her but I don't think he was telling the truth.

My mother was a witch but either she was never very powerful or he simply beat it out of her, so to speak. My father hated magic.

Because of the vast amount of abuse I received, my magic did not show up until I was ten years old. I had started to worry that I was a Squib. That would have been the worst fate to befall me. However, on my tenth birthday, after a particularly harsh 'birthday beating' from my father, in which I received a broken leg and bruised ribs, I was able to heal myself in a matter of a few hours. My magic had arrived. I was so pleased. I received my later the next day (10 January) from my mother who had hidden it from my father the day before. We did not tell my father about my going to Hogwarts. Mother told him I had been accepted at a boarding school that specialized in football on a scholarship. My father, who was an insane fan of the game and probably too drunk most of the time to care anyways, accepted the story.

I departed for Hogwarts August the 31st, eight long months after my birthday. The trouble with James Potter and co. began on the train. They weren't the marauders- yet- but they had met each other on the train and knew they would be in Gryffindor. My mother had told me a little bit about Hogwarts and Her houses but I had no preference as to which house I would be in. Or should I say, had no prefence before I met James Potter. Afterwards, I didn't care what house it was as long as HE wasn't in it. Perhaps it was, as some say, hate at first sight. Seems that way to me, even looking back after all these years. But I digress...

When I arrived at Hogwarts, I was, after some debate with the hat, placed into Slytherin House. Well, at least Potter wasn't going to be my roomie or anything like that. Cunning and cleverness sounded more like me than foolish bravery anyway. The only other house I would have preferred would have been Ravenclaw. My favorite hobby is reading, after all.

Time passed and I had few friends. Lucius Malfoy and I weren't what you would call friends but he 'befriended' me- for recruiting purposes, I found out later- and I was flattered and in awe of him. He was in fifth year when I started at Hogwarts. He was a prefect and I- stupidly- idolized him. But hindsight is twenty-twenty...

Time passed as it tends to do and before I knew it, I was in my fourth year at Hogwarts. The Marauders were now firmly in place and I was their Number One target. Every chance they got, they attacked me in some manner. If it wasn't a hex, it was a curse or some other unfriendly and very funny- to them, not to me- joke. I retaliated, of course, with my extensive knowledge of potions, causing boils, uncontrollable giggling, loss of inhibitions, etc. However, I had limited funds at my disposal and Slughorn found out I was stealing from him and forbade me from entering his labs or storerooms except for class.

Without my potions, I had few ways of fighting back. Lucius approached me one Hogsmeade weekend (he was now in his final year at Hogwarts) and told me he knew someone who could help me learn black magic and provide me a way to get back at Potter and his gang once and for all. As I said earlier, I was stupid. And young. And stupid.

The next Hogsmeade weekend was Halloween weekend. Of course it was.

Lucius handed me a portkey, saying, "This man will make all your dreams come true."

I believed him.

It was only after I arrived in a room alone with an attractive man sitting on a throne that I began to get suspicious.

The man smiled at me- like a snake, I thought absently.

The throne he was sitting on was gold and rather lavish. He had what appeared to be a four foot long Burmese python on his lap and was petting its head and talking to it in some odd language that sounded like sibilant hissing to me. How unusual.

Then he stopped the hissing and looked at me expectantly. "You must be Severusss," he said, his words still retaining some of the hiss.

I nodded nervously. "Y-yes sir."

He barked out a laugh. "Sir. Yes, I like this one, Nagini," he murmured. I assumed that Nagini was the snake's name though it seemed odd to be talking to a snake as though it could understand him.

"Come closer, young Severuss so I may see you more closely."

I cautiously walked closer to the man, yet unsure as to who he was and how he was the answer to my problems.

He placed his hand on the side of my face when I was close enough to him. He had what seemed to be unnaturally long fingers and they were strangely cool to the touch.

"Severuss..." he whispered. I shuddered. This man didn't feel quite right. There was a feeling deep in my gut that told me to run and never come back. I didn't listen to it. Unfortunately.

"Severuss, would you like to join a little group that I'm the leader of? It is for powerful wizards such as yourself that are tired of everyone stepping all over them and not giving them the respect they deserve. Lucius has told me a little about these Marauders-" he spat the name- "that are tormenting you so. Would you like to show them who is the more powerful wizard and make everyone laugh at them for once?"

I did not know this man. I didn't know his name or anything about him. But I wanted what he was offering. A chance to make the Marauders look stupid? A chance to teach them a lesson they would never forget?

"Where do I sign up, sir?" I asked him eagerly.

He laughed again. "Ha! I was hoping you would say that, young Severus. Hand me your left hand. I would like to give you something to welcome you to our group."

I put out my hand quickly, expecting some sort of token, a medal or something that I could pin to my chest. Instead of placing something in my hand, he quickly turned my arm over. Before I could say anything or even move, he had placed his wand on my arm. The only thing I remember next was the most agonizing pain I have ever felt in my life before I passed out.

When I woke, I was back in my bed at Hogwarts and had a throbbing black and green snake tattooed on my skin. And I knew then I had made a mistake. I didn't realize until later how big a mistake it was.

There isn't a day in my life I don't regret that decision.

Contrary to popular belief, I did not go crawling to Albus Dumbledore right away. I had some pride, even if the monster I had agreed to serve had tried to rip it away from me violently. And I was just plain scared, to tell you the honest truth. I knew of Dumbledore's kindness- who didn't- but I also knew (even then) that he was a master manipulator. What would I have done if it suited his purposes to throw me in Azkaban once he knew the truth?

I simply couldn't risk it.

One night in October, seven years after we graduated, however, changed my mind for me.

It was about two days before Halloween when Voldemort told us of his plan to kill the Potters because of some 'prophecy'.

I knew I had to act.

I swallowed my pride- and my fear- and immediately went to see the Great White Wizard. Or so he was called in those days.

Flashback

I wiped my sweaty palms on the side of my black robes.

Don't send me to prison, don't send me to prison. These were the only throughts flashing through my head as I knocked loudly Headmaster Dumbledore's office door. Seconds later, I heard, "Come on up, my boy."

How does he always know? I wondered as the griffin turned, allowing me to walk up the spiral staircase. The headmaster greeted me at the top with a smile and a lemon drop. I took it, thinking it might ease my nerves. He invited me to sit, and I took him up on it. He offered tea, but I declined. Remember why you are here, I told myself sternly. Right.

I started my pre-rehearsed speech.

"Headmaster, there is something very important I must tell you. Will you listen without interrupting?"

Dumbledore raised a bushy eyebrow at this but nodded and said, "I will try my best, child."

I bristled at him referring to me as such but ignored it. Right. I told him the whole story, about Lucius and how I wanted to join the Death eaters to get revenge on the marauders (I blushed when I repeated this part of the story as it seemed such a childish reason, but I didn't let it stop me from finishing my story). He just listened intently through the whole thing, his face open and honest, not judgmental at all, which I was glad of. This was difficult enough without him being openly hostile. I finished up my story, saying,

"And Headmaster, I went to a meeting of the inner circle last night and Voldemort plans on attacking the Potter's house Halloween night! You have to do something to help them! I may not like James (Albus snorted a bit; I grimaced and ignored him) but I have nothing against Lily or the child and besides, no one deserves to die at the hand of that monster. Believe me, I've seen what he can do. And I've helped him do it." I hung my head in shame.

Dumbledore (who had been sitting next to me in a leatherback chair) put his finger beneath my chin and lifted my head so I was looking into his eyes. I expected condemnation but received only a look of understanding and empathy.

It was a relief.

"My boy, I admire your courage so much for coming to me and admitting what you have done. That must have been very difficult-" (this time it was me that snorted) "-and I am very proud of you for owning up to your mistakes. You may have helped Voldemort harm lives in the past, but today you have helped make up for it by helping to save three innocent lives. I myself will warn the Potters and advise that they move to a more secure, hidden location."

I smiled a little at him, glad I could help someone for once instead of harming them. I only hoped they would be safe at this new location.

"He has ways of finding people, Headmaster, that even I cannot figure out. I swear he has eyes and ears all over Britain. How can you know they will be safe?"

Dumbledore looked at me solemnly. "I have ways as well, my child. I am not afraid of Tom Riddle. I promise you they will be safe. I will not tell you their location just in case Tom suspects something somehow. But they will not be harmed if it is within my power."

These words would come back to haunt me later.

I sagged in relief. "Good. Thank you Headmaster."

"You're welcome Severus. Now onto another issue. You know I could send you to Azkaban, don't you?"

Bugger it.

Gulp. "Um..."

Albus looked at me solemnly then said, "I wouldn't do that to you, my child. Especially after coming to me. I have a proposition for you..."

HPSSHPSSHPSSHPSS

Several days later, Harry walked into the room where the typewriter sat looking for a stray shoe. His and Severus' golden retriever liked to grab shoes and carry them all over the house. Not finding it, Harry turned to exit the room. Before he did, however, Severus' old typewriter caught his eye. There was a a sheet of paper in it and a small stack next to it. Curious, Harry walked over to the antique desk that it sat upon. Feeling slightly guilty, Harry picked up the first paper off the top of the stack and looked at the title disbelievingly. "What REALLY happened..." he read in shock. Then he started to laugh hysterically. "I can't believe he is actually writing it!" he gasped out between chortles.

Feeling slightly guilty, Harry sat down in Sev's comfortable office chair and began to read what his friend had written so far. When he had finished the last page, the one about Sev's meeting with Dumbledore, Harry decided that the next part of the account should be a first-hand one. So Harry made himself comfortable at the typewriter and began to write. The click-clicking sound soon filled the small office.

HPSSHPSSHPSSHPSSHPSS

Halloween Night, 1987 by Harry James Potter

For me, that Halloween night was fun. At first at least. I was six. Mum and Dad had moved us from our house in Hogsmeade to a place Mum called 'Godric's Hollow' the night before. To me, it seemed a great adventure, exploring a new house. My parents seemed scared and nervous but I didn't take much notice. We were just eating dinner when Dad suddenly stood up from the table and said to Mum, "Someone's breached the wards! Run Lily! Take Harry and run! I'll hold them off." With that, my father pushed my mother towards the stairs and ran toward the front door. I just had time to see the door slam open, knocking my father over before my mother and I rounded the corner into my bedroom, blocking my view of the events downstairs. "Daddy!" I shouted. My mother quickly put her hand over my lips, her face white. She cradled me to her chest, whispered, "I love you Harry" before putting me behind her and grabbing her wand.

We heard shouting for a moment and then silence. Seconds later, my bedroom door flew open and a man entered the room, followed by two men in black robes and white masks. The first man looked at my mother and spoke. "Give us the boy, Mudblood!"

My mother held her wand out at him. "I would die first Voldemort!"

"That can be arranged!" he roared loudly. I cowered behind Mum. This man, whoever he was, was really scary and he had done something to make my daddy scream. I hated him from that moment on.

Mum waved her wand and a red light shot out of it. I had hoped it would make the bad man go away but the pretty light disappeared before it hit him.

"How dare you try to curse me, you filthy little mudblood! Fine then, if you won't move, I'll take him from you forcefully! Avada-"

"No!" I knew what that meant and before I could think, I jumped in front of my mother.

-Kedavra!" My mother shrieked "NO! Harry!" as the green light hit me. I watched it come toward me, as if in slow motion. I didn't move- I knew I had to protect my mum. What would I do without her?

The next thing I knew was the most excruciating pain I had felt in my young life. And then all I knew was darkness.

I later found out that when the killing curse hit me, it somehow miraculously bounced off of me and hit Voldemort, vaporizing him. It would baffle the most brilliant minds of the wizarding world for years to come. The two Death eaters with him were knocked unconscious. Aurors took them away, Mum told me years later, and they were both given the Kiss. She also told me tearfully Dad had been killed by Avada. We buried him in a graveyard by Hogwarts, where he would have wanted to be buried.

Mum and I moved back to our house in Hogsmeade where we lived for a year, recovering and grieving. Eleven months after Dad died and was buried, Dumbledore offered Mum a job as the charms teacher. His old teacher, Prof. Flitwick wanted to retire, he told me one day. Prof. Dumbledore soon became 'Papa' to me, an adopted grandfather, as both parental sets of grandparents had died years before. I adored living at Hogwarts...

HPSSHPSSHPSSHPSSHPSS

"Harry, you brat, this is my story."

The voice of Harry's best friend startled him away from his writing. He looked up from the typewriter guiltily.

"Uh hi Sev. Yeah, I know it's yours." Harry smirked at him. "I just thought I'd add my point of view. The beginning is excellent by the way."

Severus sneered at the younger wizard. "Yes, well... Of course it is. It's me, isn't it?" But Harry could tell he was pleased. Sev was all bluster on the outside, but he was really a sweetheart inside. Deep, deep inside if you were one of the lucky ones he let in. Harry and his mother were some of the few that had. He had known the man since he was seven, after all.

"Maybe we should co-write it, Sev. It is about me, after all," Harry murmured smugly.

"Heh. This is about all of us- you, me, your mother, Pap- I mean Albus. Not just you."

The green-eyed man smiled at Severus' slip. He always thought Sev secretly called Albus 'Papa', but he never let on in public. Til now. Harry chuckled inwardly.

"Now out boy! It's my turn to write and see if what you've written is complete rubbish..."

Harry took the hint and started to leave the room. Before he did, though, he popped back and kissed Sev on the cheek. Harry loved it when the stern, uptight man blushed...

And now Harry still had a shoe to find...