I have a lot of ideas in my head that I spam my keyboard with and this is the birth of one of those ideas. Draco's not in this chapter but he will be in the next one.

Prologue

Privet Drive was a perfectly ordinary street where definitely normal things occurred. Strange stuff was unwelcome to the residents that lived there, hence why the tall man in the billowing, black cloak was being given strange and even intimidated looks from behind their curtains. The man paid them no mind; he'd spent a great part of his childhood under strange looks, and a greater part of his career intimidating the nincompoops he had to teach with simply a glare.

Unbeknownst to the residents, and to the man, there was a much stranger thing to witness in Number Four of Privet Drive.

The man in question, who was called Severus Snape, was irritated. It was the beginning of August, and in turn the start of his lesson planning. Severus had always liked to be punctual, precise and to the point. He did not savour dilly dallying. Unfortunately, Albus Dumbledore (a man he was an eternal servant to) loved exactly that. Sneering at one of the peeking faces, Severus decided he felt slightly satisfied when the nosy nitwit stumbled away from the window.

He'd never liked muggle neighbourhoods. They reminded him of his childhood home – and his drunken muggle father. The lot of the non-magic folk were ignorant idiots. But, of course, she wasn't. Even if she was a witch, she was raised by muggles, yet she was the kindest soul he'd met. When a musical laugh echoed through his mind he snarled and pushed the memory where he trapped them all. Moments of weakness like this were rare, but under the circumstances he allowed himself some slack. After all, the place was reminiscent of their home… and he was meeting her eleven-year-old orphaned son who happened to also be the child of his greatest enemy.

Finally, he stepped in front of Number Four. Scanning the house, he noted the odd condition of the car, unlike all the other cars in this practically identical neighbourhood. Markings were all over it, red paint, he supposed. They didn't seem to be drawings nor language, or runes, even. Just intelligible scribbles, as if a small child had gotten hold of a can of paint.

A slight movement at the next door's window made Severus glance up: the nosy neighbour staring couldn't seem to figure out if the car or Severus himself was stranger. Scoffing faintly, he turned back to his original attention and headed to the door of Number Four, not before he eyed the windscreen of the car. There was a drawing there. It was a face, with a crude smile.

Severus knocked. The door opened on its own accord, and he took that as invitation to walk in. The most he knew about the family who lived here was that her sister was taking care of her son. Petunia Evans was a nasty little girl and he had no wish to meet her again.

The unpleasant feeling bubbling inside him made him question once more why in Merlin's name Albus wanted him here. From the brief message Severus had received, the man hadn't seemed alarmed but there was a hint of urgency in his voice. He dearly hoped it had nothing to do with interacting with the muggles.

"Ah, Severus! Do come in," came Albus' voice from the room straight ahead. Severus walked past a vacated living room, past the stairs where there was a small door to a cupboard and straight into what turned out to be the kitchen.

His curiosity about the lack of muggles was forgotten the moment he caught sight of James Potter's unruly jet black hair peeping from beyond the back of a chair. Memories exploded from the back of his mind as bitter hatred surged through his veins. The boy looked like his father and Severus hadn't even seen his face.

Jaw clenched, he tore his eyes away to look at Albus, who was sitting on another chair at the dining table, smiling serenely. Yet behind the half-moon spectacles on the man's crooked nose, Severus saw… remorse. "Take a seat."

To the point. No offers of one of his infernal sweets, or even a common courtesy introduction. In other words, no dilly dallying. How very unlike Albus Dumbledore. Taking a moment to absorb all this, Severus, rather uneasily, stepped away from the doorway and took a vacated seat next to the Headmaster of Hogwarts.

Six seats around the dining table, yet only three were occupied. He wondered briefly where Petunia was, then decided he didn't care. Biding his time, he finally looked over to Harry James Potter.

The first thing that captured his notice was her eyes. Lily's eyes. Like the grass and leaves that surrounded them during their childhood as they chatted. Like life itself. For a moment his breath was stolen, until the sudden urge to scream whooshed air right back into his lungs. He didn't, but it was a struggle.

Then, he focused on the rest of the boy's face. It was as if the cruciatus curse had been cast upon him, the way the shock jolted through his body.

The boy, who had been observing him calculatingly, suddenly started to grin. His lips stretched so wide that it looked inhuman and the frantic cackling that followed didn't much help his image of humanity. In horror, Severus watched the unnerving smile touch her eyes — no, those weren't Lily's eyes. They had no passionate fire, no warmth, no sweetness. No life.

This time he did scream.

I'm using DC comic's character 'Joker' as an inspiration for what Harry will be in this fic, fyi.