A/N Okay, who has ever had a plot bunny that just won't go away? looks around at dozens of hands Well, this is one of those things. Don't ask. Blame the damn random muses in my head. They like to fill my head with lots of random fluff. This is going to be very, very AU and Snarry…eventually. For those of you who are reading my other story "Pain," worry not my faithful, I will continue. Anyway, ONWARD!
'Dying hurts, why does dying have to freaking hurt?' wondered a dying Harry Potter as he cracked his blood-caked eyes open to look around the empty dungeon he was chained in. 'Seriously, what is wrong with this picture. I am twenty-three years old, I am supposed to save the world, and kill the snake faced bastard who is now killing me. Damn Prophecy, its all Trelawny's fault,'
"Ooh, pretty colors," Harry whispered, just having enough breath to speak.
Harry reached up as far as the manacles would let him, and touched one of the shining bubbles flying around his head, then…black.
'Now what hell happened? Oh, the bubbles are back. Hmmm.'
He tried to touch another bubble, and instead of popping, it sucked him in.
It was like a pensieve memory, that never happened. He was standing next to a very pregnant Ginny smiling down at four or five running toddlers.
'Seeing yourself in third person is so weird.' he thinks sardonically.
He shakes his head at the odd scene in front of him and extracts himself from it.
'Me, a father of five…no, no, no. Me and Ginny. Gag me with a spoon.'
Another bubble passes in front of his eyes to show his four year old self getting beaten by his uncle for some imagined infraction.
The hero in him lunged towards the bubble, not thinking about what would happen when he got to it.
Unlike the previous, very disturbing, bubble; this one didn't just suck him in, it decided to assimilate the two people together.
Squeezing two souls into the same body isn't supposed to be possible, therefore it is really painful. This new pain isn't even acknowledged by the younger half of the soul, as he's already in a lot of pain as it is. The pain was fierce and fiery, seeming to burn Harry from the inside out.
"Shut up, freak! What are you screaming for?" yelled Vernon as he continued to pound the boy with his fists.
Older Harry's war training kicked in and he flipped over, swung his leg out, and connected with the fat man's groin in less time than it took for the man to realize his target had moved.
'Damn these short legs, I wanted to aim for his face.' Harry thought disgustedly.
Vernon let out a high pitched squeaky scream before he clutched his abused balls and fell to his knees.
"Vernon, what are you screaming for?" Harry asked mockingly.
"I'll get you for that. You little bastard," growls Vernon from his kneeling position on the floor.
"Oh, you will, will you?" Harry asked sarcastically, "I'd like to see you try. But, that will have to wait till next time. Because I am gone. You will never see me again, ever. Good bye, Uncle Vernon,"
With that last sneer he turned and stalked towards the door, he only stopped when he heard his uncle mutter something.
"What was that?" he asked as he quickly walked over to the overly fat man.
Vernon just glared at him and said nothing.
Harry smiled sweetly before he reached out and grabbed the older man's windpipe.
"I asked you something, or did it not make it through you piggy brain?" he asked cheerfully.
"What the hell are you?" the man wheezed.
Harry removes his hand from the throat of the fat man, wipes the man's germs on the rags that serve as his pants, and takes a step back.
'I, my dear uncle, am your nephew. Only a lot older than I really should be. See, in reality, I am twenty-three years old. I am a merciless killer who has been trained for years to be this way, in preparation for the day I kill my enemy, the man who killed my parents. But, you don't really have to worry about that," Harry explains in the tone of a teacher to a thick student.
"Why would I not have to worry about it?" Vernon asked, confused.
"Simple, you and your family will never remember me ever existing," Harry whispers.
Just as Vernon was about to ask further questions, Harry waves his hand in front of Vernon's face and murmurs the Obliviate spell and erases all traces of himself from the man's memory.
'Wandless magic, who would have thought it would come in handy in such a strange situation?'
Harry shakes his head at the blank faced man in front of him and goes off in search of the rest of this little family.
He found Petunia asleep in her room. She was sleeping peacefully on her back, unknowingly making his job a whole hell of a lot easier. He walked over to her and performed the same thing on her as he did with her husband.
"Good bye, Petunia," he whispered as he walked out of the room.
Although he had been related to her by blood, she never really was anything like a family member to him. Calling her 'aunt' to say goodbye would have been really awkward.
Walking down the hall a ways he came to Dudley's 'first' bedroom. The door was closed and hard to shove open. There were toys from wall to wall and almost every single one was broken or mangled in some way.
Harry smiled in a malicious way as he was walking towards the sleeping child that was more whale than child, he wasn't going to erase himself from him; no, he's going to do something much better. He's going to leave himself in his memory; and implant some of his own memories into the boy's mind.
He lifted his right index finger to his temple and pulled away a strand of the filmy, wispy substance that is memories in physical form.
He leans down and touches his finger to the piggy boy's head and lets the memory sink in.
Almost immediately the boy started to squirm and fidget in his sleep.
"Yeah, that's right. See what you do to me in another lifetime," Harry whispered spitefully.
Without further thought the twenty-three-year-old-in-a-four-year-old's-body pivoted on his heel and walked out of the room; and eventually, out of the house.
Being a four year old on the streets is dangerous, at night it's even worse. He stayed in the shadows and avoided all possible situations where he could get himself into trouble; but being The-Boy-Who-Just-Wouldn't-Freaking-Die, that was likely not going to happen. Trouble follows him like a lost puppy.
Walking down a back alley in an effort to avoid the main streets, he came upon the exact thing he was trying to avoid
He inconspicuously looked behind him to spy on the man-sized shadow following him.
He rolled his eyes and dropped. As soon as he touched the ground, he rolled silently behind a group of trash cans.
"Shit, where did that little brat go?" the stranger whispered to himself.
Harry waited patiently until the man was near his hiding spot. As soon as his assailant was right in front of him, Harry sprang out and tackled the man.
Before the man could even cry out, Harry had him pinned down with his forearm pressed against the man's throat.
"Why are you following me?" the boy ground out.
The man just made gurgling noises until Harry realized that he couldn't answer without air. He leaned back a little to take some pressure off the man's throat.
"I was told to tail you and grab you if you left the safety of the wards. Orders of Albus Dumbledore," the man wheezed.
"Well, you can tell Albus that he can go fuck himself. I refuse to be his little puppet or his weapon. And, if you try and follow me again, I will kill you. Understood?" Harry threatened.
Harry rose off his would-be kidnapper as the man nodded emphatically. Harry rolled his eyes again at the rapidly fleeing form.
"Amateur," he muttered under his breath.
'So, Albus thinks he can control me, does he? Well, he's in for a big surprise.'
Chuckling at the idiocy of the Hogwarts Headmaster, Harry set off to find some method to get to London.
Finding a trolley to take him to London was not hard, the hard part was getting on it and then Obliviating the conductor to forget he had never been paid. There were no other passengers to Obliviate also, so that made his job all the easier.
Harry moved to get off and waved to the conductor, although he was Obliviating him instead of waving goodbye.
He hopped off and walked towards the Leaky Cauldron. He completely ignored everyone inside as well as their stares. He walked straight to the back alley and performed the code to get into the Diagon Alley.
Being a four year old in Diagon Alley is a lot different than on the Muggle streets. Here, he wasn't in much danger. With all luck, seeing as his magical signature disappeared, they will think him dead and not look for him. With all luck, something that Harry has very little of.
But, apparently, he has some luck. None other than one Severus Snape was standing near the apothecary.
'This is going to be difficult. To his eyes I shouldn't be old enough to say a full sentence, how in the world am I going to convince him of who I am,' Harry muttered in his mind.
Harry and Severus had grown close over the course of the war, and eventually became lovers despite the age difference.
Severus didn't seem to have seen him, for he just continued on his way.
"Sev'rus," Harry croaked.
He cleared his throat before trying again.
"Severus!" the boy called in a slightly loud tone.
The black haired man stopped, looked around, then looked down. Confusion and distrust shadowed his face.
"Do I know you?" he questioned with his eyes narrowed.
"No, but I know you. I can't explain fully right now, but if you will listen to me, I will," Harry explained.
"Lead on, little man," Severus said, sarcastically.
Harry turned towards him with a glare.
"I'll have you know, though I make look like a little kid, we're about the same age," huffed the shorter man.
"Whatever you say," demurred the 'older' man.
Harry rolled his eyes and muttered something that sounded suspiciously like 'insufferable potion obsessed idiot'
"What?! What did you say?" Severus growled.
"Nothing Nothing at all," Harry said, playing innocent.
"Riight," the dark man drawls, but says nothing more.
"What do you say we go to the Three Broomsticks, seeing as it would look really odd for you to go anywhere else with me. You can play me off as a younger relative if it pleases you," the younger man offers.
Severus nods his acceptance at this plan and watches the young boy walk towards said café. He furrows his brows at the enigma that was his new acquaintance, whose name he still didn't know. With an explosive sigh, he shakes his head and catches up with the his companion with just two of his long strides.
Harry looks up at him and glares at him fit to kill, for he had been walking as fast as his short little legs would take him. Severus chuckled at the glare and opened the door to the Three Broomsticks.
They chose a table near the back and sat, both with their backs to the wall. Rosmerta walked over in all her glittery glory to take their orders.
"Oh, hello, Severus. And who's this?" the sparkly woman asked.
Before Harry could speak, Severus had an answer for her.
"My cousin, James." Severus answered in his usual dark way.
"Ah, I see. Well, what would you have, gentlemen?" she queried, all business now.
"I will have a butterbeer, please," answered Harry.
"Make that two," Severus added.
Rosmerta nodded and clicked back to her post at the counter.
"I do have a name, you know," Harry growled at the snarky professor.
"That's nice, if only I knew what it was," Severus mused.
"Its Harry, Harry Potter to be exact," Harry said with an eye roll, waiting for the expected reaction.
Severus' eyes go round and big as dinner plates, Harry sighs.
"Well, didn't know I was in such upstanding company," he mock-simpered.
"Cut the crap," the boy growled, face and voice like a pissed off animal, "I survived because my mother died for me. Dumbledore saw fit to tell that little tidbit in my first year.
I am Harry James Potter. Born July 31, 1980. Died July 31, 2003 at the hands of one Tom Riddle, AKA Lord Voldemort. I was a trained Auror, and a seasoned killer. I had killed all of the Death Eaters, but one, Bellatix LeStrange. I saved her for last, which was my undoing. She trapped me and Stupefied me. I wake up to being under Crucio. It all went downhill from thereI'm not sure how long I survived, I'm not even sure I technically died. I don't remember actually dying and crossing over.
All I remember is bubbles. Bubbles that showed me the past, and possible futures. I happened to see one of my four year old self getting beat for some imagined wrong. Having a hero-complex is really annoying in this case. Instead of thinking about what could happen, I just jumped right in. The bad part is, I'm stuck here. The good part is my 'relatives' have been Obliviated of all knowledge that Harry Potter ever existed. They think I died with my parents," Harry finished his tale with a smirk.
"Okay, let me get this straight. You are twenty-three. You were an Auror, were killed by the Dark Lord, and saved by bubbles," Sev recapped, looking skeptical.
'That about sums it up. Don't ask about the bubbles. I don't know. If I had known they would lock my in an alternate time, I would have died like a good little boy," Harry sighed, weary of the world.
"Okay, and how do I fit in with all this?" Sev asked, eyeing Harry warily.
"That is the simple part. There is a potion that can get me back to my own time. You have a lab, you have ingredients, all I need is time. It's a very long potion to make. At least a month to brew. I'm asking for your help in saving the world from a mad man. Are you willing?"
'Can't tell him the whole truth until I know he believes me.'
"What potion are you planning on making?"
"The potion is called the Aetas porro potion. I know how to brew it, I have before. I just didn't use it," Harry explained.
"I'm glad you can brew it. I know I can't," the Potions teacher huffed.
'Apparently he hasn't passed his mastery yet.'
"Are you willing to help me?" the boy asked again.
"Yes. I'll help. Only because I want to see you brew this horrendously hard potion," Sev acquiesced.
Snape Manor was exactly like he remembered it to be. It is set on a hill and surrounded by trees and fields of grass. The front door was not in the front, it was off to the side. Oddly enough, everyone insisted on calling it the front door.
Walking up the path to said door, Harry turns back to look at a specific tree. This tree is the third from the driveway, along the privacy wall. This tree is where he and Severus shared their first kiss, nineteen years in the future. Harry sighed and walked faster to catch up with the longer legged man. Severus looked a bit confused by his guest's actions, but said nothing about it.
"Welcome to my home. Would you like a tour now, or later?" he asked, trying to be the host.
"Don't worry. We were good friends in my time. I know your house like I do my own. See? Guest room is over there. Dining room, den, and study are down that hall. Kitchen and house-elf quarters are down there. And your bedroom and the potions labs are down that way," Harry pointed out brightly.
"Just how close were we?" Sev wondered suspiciously.
"Close enough," answered Harry, not wanting to divulge too much information too early.
"Uh huh. Well, since you know where everything is, meet me in the dining room in an hour. And, since you also know where the guests rooms are, I will let you get settled," Sev said with a raised eye brow at the 'young' boy.
"Gotcha," Harry smiled as he walked away.
"This is so going to complicate matters. I need a vacation," the beleaguered potions apprentice muttered.
Half an hour later, Harry was firmly settled into his room and he was going off in search of a certain snarky man.
He first checked the labs, he wasn't there; but he would be back since there were three cauldrons of simmering potions waiting for him.
Harry made his way over to an unused portion of the room and transfigured a scurrying bug into a over stuffed chair and sat down to wait. Severus didn't show up for three hours and Harry was forced to put the potions in stasis. He finally gave up fell asleep in the chair curled up like a cat.
Severus came in shortly after Harry dropped off, exasperation tinged with worry splashed across his face. All worry melted off his face when he noticed the small boy sleeping in the large chair.
'The only room in the entire damn house I don't check, and there he is. I hate irony with a freaking passion." he fumed silently.
Sev walked across the room and scooped the tiny boy into his arms. He took out his want to banish the chair, but thought better of it. He could use it later, maybe. He walked quickly to the guest room and deposited Harry in his bed. With a wave of his wand the boy was in pajamas and the bed linens were turned back He laid the small boy on the bed and covered his frail looking form with the blanket. With one last look at the sleeping boy, Sev doused the lights and swept silently out of the room.
"Goodnight to you too, Sev," Harry whispered to the dark.
A/N HA! Maybe I can finish chapter nine of Pain now that I finished this chapter. Maybe, maybe not. With my luck my muses will just threaten to murder me if I don't work on the next chapter of this too. Hopefully we can compromise and work on both at the same time. I don't know. Well, anyway. If you like it, review and I will start on chapter two; although even if you don't like it I will work on chapter two. Either way I'm working on chapter two. Anyway, thus begins another story.