SNAPE CHARMER

After the awesome meal Harry and Fleur had in the Hogwarts kitchens, Harry had the most astonishing dream. In it, he could vividly feel himself falling through the air, but he wasn't worried. He didn't know why, he just wasn't. Until he rolled over. The ground was approaching at a much faster rate than he'd thought. He wasn't going to make it. He could make out the individual leaves on the trees below him when suddenly everything stopped.

Normally in dreams like this, you wake up. You wake up, and you've either pissed the bed, fallen out of it, or screamed so hard, your parents take you for psychiatric evaluation. In Harry's case, everything just stopped. The trees were blurred, and streaks of green and brown ascended out of his downward-facing vision.

Think, young Master. Your panic has blinded you. You have magic in your veins. An imaginative mind. Can you not fly? Do you not wish to fly above the heavens? Flying is part of you. So fly, young Master… Fly…

Harry'd heard that voice before… When he was using the blood ritual to absorb the Peverell/ Gaunt Ring. The Mask of Dark Souls!

Harry concentrated on the feeling of flying. Of how the wind felt rushing through his hair, the heavy feeling in his stomach as he soared towards the heavens…

All of a sudden, the streaks of colour reversed direction, as Harry shot into the night. Looking to either side, Harry caught sight of skeletal wings, much like a bat's, spread far to either side of him. Harry rejoiced in the cold night's air racing through his hair as he flew once more into the starry sky.

Fleur lay down next to Harry, watching him twitch, as many sleepers do. His small smile was bordering on beatific, so he must be truly happy. They only had a week left together before he had to leave for another year of school.

Fleur's face fell, as she realised something. Each year, something happened to Harry, be it dangerous, a tragedy, or something good in the end. This year, she could tell it wouldn't be something good.

Over the last week of the holidays, Harry received a letter from Sirius. It wasn't what he'd thought it would be. At first, it was all 'good on you' for 'running away', and 'stay out of trouble'. But then, the bad news. Remus was dead. Turns out his brother had killed him. His head had turned up at Hogwarts one day in the morning post, torn from his body, with the pieces of his wand crammed into his mouth.

Despite the sadness Harry felt, he was also somewhat glad- Remus was so sad, all of the time. Being a werewolf had worn on him so very much. He just didn't want to live anymore, Sirius said. Why else would he try to settle an old score?

The week carried on, as Fleur and Harry just spent some time together, having fun reading through his books, decoding the runes on the two black monoliths he'd bought, and making plans for the Christmas holidays to meet up and do the Animagus transformation. Harry started up his little technosorcery business, with the help of Fleur. He taught her how to carve a rune set at a time, and which ones with which. Selling home-made computers, consoles, phones, etc. that were so far advanced people practically fell over themselves to buy them once word got out. Fleur took to the business like a fish to water, beginning to make her own ideas for expansion. Harry was happy to leave her to it.

Jacques also received a letter. Scrawled across the front was his name, in Severus' own hand. Strange. Not a letter for fifteen years. Why now?

Ripping it open, he immediately saw why. Streaked in ink and tears, the hand was messy at first, but violently angular at the end.

Jacques,

I know I have not written in many a long year. If you would hear me out, that would be good. Dumbledore tampered with my mind. He's been raping Petunia Dursley, obliviating her every chance he gets, forcing her to be a bitch to little Harry. She told me, which sparked my mindscape reset. I… I know now the role I played in Lily's- and James'- death. The prophecy is fake. It all is. Dumbledore is steering Voldemort into something. I don't know what. But… please. I need to talk to Harry. I know you. You'd save James' son if it was the last thing you did. I need to talk to him. Face to face.

Lily is gone. I… just found out that Remus is dead, too. Sirius is the last Marauder. Pettigrew is still out there, but he was never a true Marauder. I was possessed. I've made so many mistakes. The levels of Auror recruits are down because of me. I need to fix this.

Severus T. Snape.

P.S. What year is it?

Dear Severus,

It is 1995. August 26th as I write this. I am not particularly surprised that the old fool dabbled with your mind so. I am glad that you found out before Harry killed you, and so distraught that I had not thought of that possibility. Harry received his Inheritance nigh on three weeks ago. Since then, he has excelled as only a Potter can. You should know of what I speak. You should visit before he leaves for Hogwarts on the 1st. I suggest you do not reveal your change too soon- be a true Slytherin in this, make it gradual. But for God's sakes, man, tell the boy.

You should probably reveal everything you know about the Death Eater Corps to him. Everything he knows will make his job easier.

Ever faithful,

Jacques Delacour

Soon enough, September the First arrived, and the sun rose on Harry snoring gently in the arms of Fleur Delacour. The two had grown closer, if possible. Jacques was stuck wondering when he'd see them one morning, both with goofy grins on their faces. Not that he was eager for his daughter to lose her innocence, but… He knew Harry was the one for her. You'd have to be blind not to see it. He was still expecting Severus to visit. The man was not a coward, but he was afraid of dying. Most men were.

Jacques halted his breakfast-time meanderings when he felt the ping in his wards noting a new arrival. Severus. He could feel the Dark tinge to him, but it was less than when he'd last met him. He was healing, then.

Jacques stood up to go and greet him when he felt like he was being watched. Turning slowly, he caught sight of Harry in the doorway to the breakfast room.

"Why is Snape here, Jacques? And why does he feel… clean?"

"Oh! Harry, I'm sorry, you scared me for a second. I forgot you could feel the wards. He's here to, ah… apologise, you might say. I'll let him explain. He is a different man to the Severus Snape you know, Harry. Keep that in mind, will you?"

The man swept out of the room, and down the halls to the entrance hall, just as Snape banged his fist upon the door. Still no manners. The two doors swung open, revealing something astonishing.

Severus Snape had had a haircut.

Or, to be more precise, he'd had a new style.

Severus Tobias Snape stood in the centre of the doors, his dreadlocked hair hanging down over one shoulder, his black robes rippling behind him. The man had potions ingredients woven into his dreaded hair, such as dragon claws, eagle owl feathers and peppermint. It showed his Native American heritage off, now that Harry thought about it. Definitely changed. But what about the inside? Was it any different?

"Professor. I'd say welcome, but you've already battered down the door."

"Mr. Potter… I think I need to explain certain things about my actions. Then, tell me I'm rude. May I come in?"

"Jacques?"

"Let him in Harry, I'm sure you could deal with anything he threw at you. Now, shall we go to the drawing room?"

"When I was fifteen, your father and his friends- the Marauders- were my mortal enemies. Much like yourself, Ron, Hermione and Draco Malfoy. I can't particularly remember how it started, but it may be due to my closeness to Lily as a child, and his long-time unrequited love for her. Anyway, it came to a head after our OWLs, when James saw me, and wanted some fun. He levitated me, and took off my trousers. Lily stopped him, which James used as another way to bait me. I… was so angry. I'd never felt rage quite like it, Harry. I… called your mother a mudblood. I regretted it straight away, I put no stock in those ideals- but I was fascinated by Dark magic, which made some think I was.

From then on, your mother did nothing to stop the Marauders' pranks. One nearly went too far. Sirius caught me sneaking after them one night, trying to find where they snuck off to. To get them into trouble, you see. He told me they went to a secret tunnel underneath the Whomping Willow. You, of course, know the importance of that. Remus Lupin was down that tunnel, a werewolf without the Wolfsbane potion. Your father saw me heading down to it, and tried to stop me. Remus heard, and came investigating. I barely escaped with either my life or my humanity intact. Your father knew what he'd done. He'd earned himself a life-debt."

Snape stopped here. He had to find the right words before he entered the most important part of the narrative.

"He used it straight away. He said that from now on, the Marauders would never attack someone who did not attack themselves or an innocent first, and I would never tell a soul of what I saw then, until one of us died. I saw how he was different to how I'd portrayed him in my mind, and why Lily liked him so. I loved that girl as a brother loves his sister. And I wanted my sister back. I asked him for his help, I wanted Lily to understand I was angry, and lashed out. He accepted. Not two months later, I was a part of the Marauders as if since first year.

"A week after graduation, a happy time for the six of us, Dumbledore approached me about a favour. Only something I could help him with. From that moment on, I was known as Severus Snape, Death Eater, and Potions Master. Your aunt was being raped by Dumbledore, under the influence of the Confundus Charm, and occasionally obliviated. She told me, when I stopped by, that her mind had been messed with. I knew the Headmaster's mind-scent, and I suddenly knew I'd been a pawn for the last seventeen years. I reset my memories, as any good Occlumens can, and here I am. I will start off the same as I always have been, but will change to the man I really am through the year. Unless you kill off Dumbledore. Who knows what he's been doing with the girls of Hogwarts…"

Harry sat back, unsure of his old enemy. He seemed different, and Harry had heard from his father's portrait of that particular incident. It was as it happened. Snape didn't emphasise his role, or downplay it. He'd talk to Sirius at some point about the werewolf incident, though.

"I believe you, Professor. The only thing I ask is that you teach the students- all of them- the Reactionary Tables of Ingredients. And basic potioneering skills, like cutting, and how to adjust the flames. And for God's sake, please keep Malfoy on a leash- with the powers I have now, I'd grind him into dust beneath my boot!"

Severus looked long and hard at Harry. He wasn't lying. The Potter Inheritance must be more powerful than anyone thought.

"I agree, Harry. I can't believe no one has died yet!"

The two sat and talked, Harry learning things about his mother's childhood, and Snape about the Golden Trio.

With the meeting with Snape over, Harry set about getting ready to catch the Hogwarts Express. A mirror in the entrance hall served well enough. He concentrated on his features, returning them to his pre-Inheritance state, but deciding to leave the hard-won musculature and strength, and his scars. His trunk lay packed in his room, and Jupiter sat in a tree outside. The dragon infinitely preferred sleeping outside, now that it was free. The telepathic connection was… confusing at times, as a dragon's needs were different to a man's.

Harry had woken up one morning to Jupiter having an entirely too-weird-for-words wet dream about a Hungarian Horntail in the mountains in the distance.

"Jupiter, I need you to assume your smaller form, so that I can transport you to Hogwarts."

Really? Must you? Can I not just fly, Lightning One?

"No, you must enter through the gates, so it knows you are not there to attack! We've discussed this before!"

Have we? My mind must have been elsewhere, Master…

Harry harrumphed. The thing had been developing a slightly snarky side since being exposed to Harry for the last couple of weeks. Damn pest.

Harry summoned his trunk and Jupiter's cage while ordering Hedwig to fly on ahead. Once the dragon had stopped complaining, Harry gathered himself, making sure he had left nothing behind. Wands, check. Weapons holster, check. Trunk, check. One last thing.

Turning, Harry spied fleur standing beside the doors to the Manor, looking as if she was holding herself together. Harry met her halfway, hugging her tightly and whispering, "I will be back soon, Fleur, I promise. It's only until Christmas. Until then, have fun in Gringotts!"

He pulled back and winked.

"That was you? You recommended me to Ragnok?"

"Aye. Someone else might have gotten it wrong. These past few weeks, you've shown extraordinary knowledge when decoding the obelisks, and I mentioned you to Ragnok. He did the rest, believe me. He wants you to decode as much of the recently unveiled dwarven writings of old as you can. I will help, of course."

Fleur's eyes bulged at that. They'd found dwarven writings, and kept it hidden from the ministry? How?

"Goodbye, I need to leave now to get there on time."

Harry leant in, and gave Fleur her truly first deep kiss. It went on, longer than Harry had meant, but Lord! She tasted like Heaven!

"Goodbye Fleur. See you soon!"

With that, the Lightning One apparated away.