A/N: Wow, this story has gained more attention than any of my previous fics, and I'm just amazed! Those of you who were here when it began saw a different version of the first few chapters. They have since been revised, cut, lengthened, and, hopefully, they're much better now!
To any newcomers, hello! I hope you stick around for this adventure, as I plan to make it a long one.
And a quick note about canon vs made-up. Most of this story should fit with what we know about the canon universe, but there are a few differences. Namely these are: McGonagall, Madame Pomfrey (whose character is briefly mentioned first by McGonagall. She is not the same Pomfrey as in the Harry Potter books), and of course, Snape. Besides those few exceptions, I have tried to stick to canon information, filling in the holes where I have to.
Alright, alright, enough talk. Enjoy!
Chapter 1: School
It wasn't everyday Harry Potter got to visit his old school, even if it was strictly on business. Hogwarts held so many memories, both good and bad, and each revisit awakened these memories, replaying snippets of the past in the wizard's mind as he saw the old castle in the present, the atmosphere changed for the better since the war. There had been no basilisks, no three-headed dogs, no dragons, and very few dark wizards and witches. Harry found it easy to relive the good memories of those rare times when he attended and nothing of consequence was occurring.
The feeling of calm his memories brought usually ended in a rude interruption, though. When he was called to Hogwarts, it usually meant trouble brewed. As an auror, and head of the aurors at that, most of the messages he received were calls for help in time of dire need, rarely were they party invitations or friendly letters. Even though Voldemort's days were nothing more than a chapter in the history books, dark magic was still cast by dark wizards, and it was Harry's job to make sure someone in his department took care of the matter. This time, he had about a minute after arriving via the floo network before his bubble of happy memories was popped.
"Blimey, I just sent my Rose here not a week ago," Ron muttered, looking around at the familiar hallways after he emerged from the green smoke of the floo, "You think it's safe after all?" He remembered all too clearly the many terrifyingly brilliant adventures he had with Harry years ago. Not to mention, the Battle of Hogwarts nineteen years ago, a day he could never forget.
Harry smiled, also remembering the old days, although blocking out the painful Battle. "C'mon, mate, it's not like Dumbledore runs the place anymore. McGonagall runs much tighter security these days."
"Bloody hell, she's still alive, is she?" Ron said, widening his eyes.
"Mr. Weasley," an all-too familiar voice said from behind, causing the two men to spin around and face the witch they had been talking about, "She is not only still alive, but still astounded to how it is you manage to begin every sentence with a curse. And not even a magical curse, at that."
Minerva McGonagall stood just as imposing as she always had in front of Harry and Ron. Even though Ron at least had grown taller than her, she presented herself with an air of authority that sent Ron back into the frightened, apologetic student he had once been. She wore black robes detailed with silver, her half-circle spectacles sitting at the end of her nose. Despite the almost twenty years since Harry and Ron had seen her, she seemed not to have aged in the slightest.
"Good morning, Prof- err, Headmistress McGonagall," Harry said, covering up for Ron's slack-jawed face. At least one of the men ought to have his wits about him, he figured.
"I'm not entirely certain this morning qualifies as good, Mr. Potter," McGonagall replied with a heavy sigh, "Strange, perhaps, or extraordinary. Come, I imagine you're on your way to Madame Pomfrey's, are you not?"
Ron raised an eyebrow at that. "She's still here, too?"
"No, Mr. Weasley," McGonagall corrected, leading the way towards the medi-witch's quarters, "Madame Pomfrey is the niece of the woman you remember seeing at least once a year for all your injuries. However, that's hardly the concern at the moment."
Harry nodded. "You're right, of course. Professor McGonagall, your message seemed very urgent. What, exactly, happened?" The message she had owled to the aurors had been vague, but pressing, informing them that a matter of utmost importance and interest to the Auror Department had arisen. She had left out all the details, however.
To both aurors' surprise, she hesitated, searching for the words rather than having her usual quick reply at the ready. "It's… quite the matter," she started, her swift pace slowing slightly, "We had an incident of unknown, suspected dark magic that rendered the victim completely unconscious. The victim was found this morning by a young Hufflepuff student on his way to breakfast. He has not responded to any of Madame Pomfrey's treatments, nor has he awaken on his own."
Going into full auror mode, Harry considered this information, finding it strange that McGonagall referred to the affected wizard as only "the victim," then asked, "Was the, err, victim a student as well?"
They reached the doors to the infirmary and McGonagall shook her head. "Mr. Potter, I must warn you that seeing who this magic affected will be a bit of a shock." She pushed open the doors and led the two men to a bed surrounded by privacy curtains. Not another word was spoken between them until they reached the bed.
"This is him," McGonagall said, reaching out her hand and gently pulling aside one of the bed curtains. She refused to look at the patient, instead staring ahead out the thickly-paned window, but both Ron and Harry eagerly scanned the bed. They quickly paled.
Ron stared at the man, unable to look away. "Blimey, it can't be…"
Harry had to take a step back and sit down on the empty bed next to the only patient in the infirmary wing. He cradled his head in his hands as he bent over, elbows braced on his thighs. "This has to be some kind of sick joke," he grumbled, closing his eyes for a moment before mentally bracing himself to look again at the familiar face.
Severus Snape was the man lying in the bed. Severus Snape, the double agent who ultimately proved his loyalty to Harry, or at least to Harry's mother. The secretive man whose memories were given to show Harry his true nature, the man who died in the Battle of Hogwarts after years of faking loyalty to one of the darkest wizards who had ever lived, this man was lying peacefully, his face more serene than any one of them had ever seen it, in the Hogwarts infirmary.
"Joke or not, Mr. Potter, it is perhaps the most impressive display of magic I have ever seen," McGonagall stated.
A few hours later, Ron and Harry sat in the headmistress's office with McGonagall, talking over everything they had since discovered. Harry had cast all the revealing spells he knew on the man who appeared to be his former potions professor. And all he had to show for it was a whole lot of negatives.
Polyjuice potion was ruled out first, because everyone knew the Snape had died nineteen years ago, and polyjuice wouldn't work if the subject was dead. Their next test was to rule out transfiguration, which for a skilled witch or wizard, could also imitate the appearance of another person. There had been no trace of any transfiguration spells. As for the reason to why the man was knocked completely unconscious, Harry couldn't find any traces of known spells. All he did find were traces of an unknown curse that slightly resembled a heat charm, and another trace of some sort of age magic. That one had easily been the biggest surprise. There had also been faint traces of some sort of memory impairment magic, but that was in such small amounts that Harry and Ron passed it off as quite unimportant.
"Right," Ron said, repeating the facts for what had to be the twentieth time, "So someone decided to fry him, but it didn't leave any visible traces of damage, then cast an age spell that didn't age him, then maybe, only maybe, did something to his memory. He's gotta be Snape's evil twin. Or maybe his good one. And he just happened to end up in the middle of Hogwarts. Right, makes perfect sense."
Harry paced the floor, frowning. "There's got to be something we missed. You were right, professor, the magic registered as dark magic, but nothing we've ever come across before. There's just… Something's missing. That Hufflepuff that found him, you're sure he didn't see anything?"
McGonagall replied, "By the time he found our unconscious man, the deed was done. If you wanted to talk to him, however, I'm sure it would not be a problem to summon him."
Harry shook his head. "I hate to do that, the poor boy's probably been through enough-"
Ron snorted, "Imagine the terror of seeing Snape first thing in the morning," he muttered.
"-but if we really can't come up anything more, we'll have to ask him for any and every little detail of how he discovered Snape, or whoever it is we saw."
McGonagall nodded. "Just let me know, Mr. Potter. In the meantime, however, I am going to have to continue my check and reevaluation of the castle's wards. I will not have a repeat of this incident. You two, of course, have free reign of the castle for your investigation. Just please… try not to cause too much trouble." She raised herself gracefully out of her chair and glided out of the room, nodding at the phoenix chick that had returned to its previous master's old office. Fawkes, although technically a free phoenix, had made Hogwarts its home, and between burnings, watched over the castle's new headmistress from his perch in the office.
Ron looked at Harry for direction. Harry ran a hand through his dark hair, the faint scar on his forehead displayed for the moment before his hair fell back into place. "I dunno, Ron, maybe we should have a look at where he was found. McGonagall said it was right outside the potions room…"
"Didn't they already clean everything up, though?" Ron asked doubtfully.
Harry nodded and let out a small frustrated sigh. "Yeah, but maybe there's some evidence there. Doubt any trace of the spell remains, not underneath all of Hogwarts enchantments, but I suppose it's worth a shot." They had both experienced situations like this before, where the surrounding magic covered the spells they were looking for so well that it was like they weren't even there. Often, old family manors had that problem due to centuries of renewed protection magic. It sort of encased the dark magic the aurors looked for so that it was very difficult, if not impossible, to detect. Old manors were bad enough, Hogwarts presented an entirely new level of difficulty.
After failing to uncover anything new at the site of the crime, Harry and Ron returned to McGonagall's office. She seemed to be expecting them, and motioned for them to make themselves comfortable.
"We didn't find anything," Ron sighed.
The headmistress nodded. "I suspected as much. We couldn't find much besides the body this morning, unfortunately."
Harry stood next to Fawkes, admiring the little gray chick flecked with red and orange. He must have undergone a burning just the night before. The auror turned his attention back to the witch and wizard. "You said a Hufflepuff boy found Snape?"
"That is correct," McGonagall said, "A first year, actually, by the name of Tobias Rivers. He should be joining us shortly to talk to the two of you. You did wish to interview him, of course?"
"Right," Harry agreed, "Absolutely. How did you know?"
"Mr. Potter," McGonagall said, "Believe it or not, this is not my first time dealing with aurors. I have picked up a few things about how your department works."
"Oh, err… right," Harry said, "Thank you, professor."
A grinding noise started up, signaling the movement of the gargoyle that guarded the headmistress's office. In a few moments, a young boy slunk into the room, hands deep in his trouser pockets. He looked around nervously, but with wonder.
"Welcome, Mr. Rivers," McGonagall greeted. The boy jumped at his name, earning a squawk from the little phoenix chick perched in the office. "These men are aurors, Mr. Harry Potter and Mr. Ron Weasley. And this is Mr. Tobias Rivers. Mr. Rivers, these men have a few questions-"
Tobias's mouth dropped as he snapped his head to look at Harry. "Me mum told me all about how you saved the world! Blimey, I'm in the same room as Harry Potter!" he exclaimed.
Harry shuffled uncomfortably, having still not come to terms with his fame. At least in recent years, most of the wizarding community had finally stopped calling him The Boy Who Lived and the Chosen One.
Ron rolled his eyes while McGonagall did her best not to do the same. "Yes, well, I'm sure it will make a wonderful story to write home about, Mr. Rivers, however right now, these men are more interested in your own story."
"My story?" Tobias squeaked.
"Professor, do you mind if we all have a sit and talk?" Harry asked, noting how nervous the Hufflepuff student looked. He had long ago learned that people were far less likely to give useful information if they were too busy being uncomfortable.
"Of course, Mr. Potter." She conjured up a grand oak table and some comfortable-looking oak chairs, enough for each of them to sit.
They each took a chair, McGonagall at the head of the table. The two aurors took one side, with Harry sitting across from Tobias. Ron took out a notebook while Harry smiled kindly at the students, doing his best to look friendly and trustworthy.
"Alright, so you're Tobias," Harry affirmed, looking at the boy.
Tobias nodded, but didn't say anything.
"Right," Harry continued, "And did I hear that you just came from Neville's class? Err… Sorry, I suppose he's Professor Longbottom these days." He was doing his best to get the Hufflepuff to relax, so as to have a friendly conversation rather than an interrogation. Harry preferred to avoid the unpleasantness of interrogations.
Tobias nodded once more. He opened his mouth to say something, but then clamped it shut, deciding it was not important enough for the likes of Harry Potter.
This didn't hinder Harry in the least. "I remember going to school with him. Watched this bloke's wife petrify him one night." He gestured to Ron, who wore a mischievous grin, and laughed. "'Course that was before he led Dumbledore's Army into the Battle of Hogwarts. Still, I'll never forget the look on his face as Hermione did it." He burst into laughter again.
Tobias's eyes were wide. "Professor Longbottom was petrified?"
Ron snorted. "It was almost an initiation rite to be hit by some spell like that in our day. He got over it pretty quickly."
"Right," Harry said with a nod, "Unlike the wizard you found this morning outside of the potions room." It was time to transition into the questioning portion of the conversation.
"Although how you ended up by the potions room on your way to breakfast is beyond me," Ron added.
"I got lost," Tobias admitted.
Remembering his first few days and school and deciding that was nothing to be ashamed of, Harry nodded and continued. "What we need to know is every detail you remember from this morning. Is there anything you haven't told McGonagall?"
The boy thought for a moment, picking nervously at his nails. "I don't think so. It happened kind of fast… I don't remember everything, I'm sorry." He bit his lip uncomfortably, raking his scant memories for anything else to tell them.
Harry offered up a smile. "No need to apologize. You've already provided us with the best information we have."
"So, Tobias, the next step," McGonagall jumped in, "Is to ask you for your memory directly. I do have a pensieve here in my office. You are familiar with how a pensieve works, are you not?"
Tobias nodded. "Me mum has one. She let me use it once."
"Good," Harry said, "If you'll consent to it, then, we would like to take a look at your memory."
With a moment of quiet consideration, Tobias nodded. "Okay. You can have it."
Harry took out his wand and gently touched Tobias's temple with it. "For the record, we'll only be making a copy. You keep the original in your mind." He mouthed the words for the spell, but did not say them out loud, then slowly waved his wand away from Tobias's head, a blue-ish white smoke connecting the wand to Tobias's temple. It wrapped around the wand in delicate loops. Ron, who had a vial at the ready as soon as Harry took his wand out, held out the glass container to catch the memory from Harry's wand. It completely disconnected from Tobias's head, continuing to coil around Harry's wand, then floated into the vial.
"Thank you," Harry said with a smile, trying not to look too eager to use the memory he had just collected. The sooner the mystery was solved, the happier he would be.
McGonagall stood up. "I'll bring out the pensieve then. Mr. Rivers, you may be excused. If you can think of anything else, please do not hesitate to let us know. And don't forget to visit Madame Pomfrey or me if you need anything."
The Hufflepuff stood up and left, glancing back at the famous Harry Potter once more. It wouldn't be long before all of Hufflepuff knew that Harry Potter, THE Harry Potter, was in the castle.
Harry plunged into the memory first, followed closely by Ron. They found themselves next to the boy they had just met, a lanky first-year with dark hair. This version looked more tired than the one they had met in person, squinting sleepily through dark blue eyes. He had just walked out of the Hufflepuff dormitory and stood looking around the corridors with a look of mildly annoyed confusion. To one side, Harry and Ron could see the entrance to the kitchens, but Tobias didn't seem to notice.
"Great Hall should be that way," Ron said, pointing in the direction that the student did not go, "But I suppose that way would make more sense to get to the potions room…"
Harry smiled, but remained focused on his surroundings as he followed the memory version of the student they met. The halls were quiet, bar the sound of Tobias's footsteps, and empty. They followed the boy down the hall as he wandered through the castle, taking turns at random.
"He turns left here to get to the potions room," Harry whispered, "Look for anything unusual."
Ron nearly told him off, knowing his way around pensieves well enough since becoming an auror. It certainly wasn't his first trip back into someone's memory. But he knew his friend well enough to know that he was used to telling people what to do, and half the time, Harry did it as a reminder to himself as well.
Tobias rounded the corner and froze midstep. Harry and Ron were right next to him, equally as still. Slumped on the ground was a body clothed in black robes. Around him, for just a split second, a light aura of energy flashed orange, too quick to tell for sure if it was there or not.
Apparently catching his breath and becoming unfrozen, Tobias screamed at the top of his lungs, a high pitched child's scream. Ron wrinkled up his nose in disgust at the sound, but Harry ignored it, peering closely at the man who looked like Snape.
He looked old. Really old. Harry had remembered him looking old back from his own days in school, but this Snape looked positively elderly. His hair, although still long and greasy, was streaked with gray. The lines on his face had multiplied, with sagging skin and wrinkles mapping their way across his facial features.
"Ron," Harry said, grateful Tobias's scream had been short, although loud, "Does Snape look… older?"
McGonagall, the memory form of her, rounded the corner and gasped at the man on the floor. She didn't stare long, however, instead placed a gentle hand on Tobias's shoulder, gesturing for him to turn away from the sight. He quivered, but held back any frightened whimpering.
"Blimey, Harry, he doesn't just look older. He looks like he was hit with an aging spell and left to rot," Ron replied as McGonagall sent her patronus off in the direction of the infirmary, then escorted Tobias towards her office, doing her best to comfort the young boy on the way.
The memory ended as they reached the headmistress's office, colors swirling into the pool of blue of the pensieve. The aurors stood up and, with a single look at each other, hurried away towards the infirmary. It was time to give Snape another visit.