Author's Note: ::gasps:: I updated twice in a night! Scary! Anyways- enjoy! Read and review…and check out my other exploits.
Harry Potter was his father's son. He would never have a commanding presence, nor would he ever have the cold, soft voice that could captivate all who heard it. Instead he was small for his age and gangly. His hair was never tamed and it was likely he'd be wearing glasses until the day he died. With a round, innocent face that never seemed right to many when they encountered the Boy Who Lived; Harry often found himself wondering how on earth was he, of all people, going to defeat the great Dark Wizard Voldemort.
He could barely pass Transfiguration this year.
And now, looking at the picture of his father and Severus, everything had changed. James Potter was the hero, Voldemort's last victim and the great Gryffindor. Harry couldn't believe his father would ever befriend such a man as Snape. James was his hero and his father. He was the man who loved his wife, was loyal to his friends and dedicated to a cause he was willing to die for. He was the man who learned to be an animagi to help a friend.
How could such a man be friends with the cruel man Harry knew Snape to be?
Then again, could such an innocent-looking boy like the one in the picture beside James Potter ever grow up to become anybody like Snape? The pale-faced "Alex" seemed a whole other person than Severus Snape.
He seemed to be another person, another life…in perhaps another time?
"Am I that uninteresting, Mr. Potter?"
Harry looked up and saw Professor Alchemy's confused expression. She had her black hair pulled into a bun and today, her eyes were silver. She was tilting her head and looking at him with pseudo-concern but somewhere behind the eyes was silent amusement and annoyance.
He forced up a smile. "I'm sorry, Professor. I was daydreaming."
Alchemy nodded slowly then turned to the rest of the class. She was covering Professor Binns' class. It proved to be the best History of Magic class Hogwarts had seen since Binns took the post. Alchemy's use of her father's name and her own passionate voice, she held a class with talent rather than fear. Harry could see Alchemy had found what she wanted to do with her life. She did want to follow in her father's footsteps.
She wanted to teach.
"I'll tell you what…" She told the class. "There's going to be a quiz next class- no moaning Mr. Longbottom, just come to my tutoring, and we'll manage- so I'll let you go and dread the next time we meet." She clapped her hands together, causing her silver and black robes to billow around her. She was truly a commanding presence. "Class dismissed. Mr. Potter, stay behind."
Harry waited till the class had left before making his way to the front desk. Alchemy was sitting on the edge, waiting for him to explain. Sighing deeply, "Our fathers were friends, Kaiya." The Professor was silent. He figured she didn't believe him. "Look, I have the pictures!"
He gave the pictures to her. Kaiya took them into her hands and studied each one. Her face changed, becoming clear and pained as she traced her hand over the pictures. When she looked up, Harry thought he saw tears. She smiled. "The boy in this picture is named Alexander."
"Is it Professor Snape?" Harry asked.
"In another time, it was." She said softly. She looked up. "Once, a very long time ago, your father and mine met. They were boys, 11 years old and bound for Hogwarts, and they didn't have a friend in the world. Your father was kind, but shy and mine…he was sad and lonely and somehow, some way, they found each other. The smiling, social creature Professor Lupin and Sirius Black remember was not the James Potter that stepped into Diagon Alley that one day in August. Nor was that cold, menacing figure you see in the hallways the Severus Alexander Snape that had no family till he bumped into James."
"They were…friends?"
"They could have been brothers for how much they cared for each other."
"What happened?"
Alchemy rose and walked to the window. "My father had a history and a legacy he was born into. His life was never his and although he loved your father like a brother, Severus had to choose between the man he wanted to be, and the man he was expected to become."
"Which did he chose?"
Severus Snape walked into his private chambers and closed his eyes. He was shaking again. Walking towards his desk, he slumped down and rubbed away his fear. There was something stirring in the air and he knew it, everyone did. The air was charged and tense, waiting for something he didn't know about.
"Stop it, Alex, you're getting paranoid." He said to himself. "But then again, a little paranoia is a good thing."
He rolled up his left sleeve and looked at his Dark Mark. He hadn't been called in over a month, not since he had allowed himself to be broken under Voldemort's curse. Not since the Dark Prince had proved himself human. He had never so much as gasped under the Crucio curse but at that moment, Severus had thrown everything away for one releasing cry.
"Crucio!" Voldemort shouted and Snape crumbled to the floor.
Don't make a sound…
He forced himself to take a kneeling position, one of both servitude but also dignity. He had never allowed himself to be anything but proud, even as he yearned to scream. Never did he allow a moment's weakness in front of Voldemort and that had earned him his respect. Voldemort had never conquered him. Even as a servant, he had been his own master.
Don't make a sound…
He bit his lip, trying not to scream. But suddenly it hit him and he smiled. Somewhere in the shadows of the abandoned room, Jacqueline saw that smile and worried. Why couldn't he scream? The pain was real and so was that constant torment he lived in. Mere dreams had conquered him so why should Voldemort be spared the image of his Prince begging like a coward. He was nothing without his strength and that was buried somewhere in time. So Severus decided to let Voldemort see what he had become. He would stop playing this game.
And the Prince cried out for mercy.
Something in Snape wished he could regret that night but he didn't. He relished it. He had defeated the Dark Prince. Severus smiled a private, victorious smile.
James would be proud.
Snape's smile turned bittersweet as he remembered James Potter. It was something he rarely allowed himself to do. Under his breath he whispered the name. "James…"
Once they had been friends, even brothers, with the faith of foolish young, lonely boys who wanted nothing else save family. They had met quickly and the friendship had ended even quicker but both remembered it and somewhere deep down, both had cherished it.
Severus rose from his chair and walked towards his desk. He reached into one of the smaller back corners and pulled out a photo. It was he and James, at the Quidditch between Hecate and Hogwarts, right after they had won. Both looked worn, beaten and liable to collapse at any moment. James was resting heavily on his shoulders. If he tried he could still hear Potter's damnable voice.
"Come on Alex! Race you to Gringotts."
Snape smiled again. "Like you could ever beat me…"
"I can try, eh Heir of Akel Dama…I can try."
"Don't make a sound." He said suddenly, throwing the picture down. Snape rose and turned away form the desk. He didn't want to remember these things. Memories, even happy ones, could cause him to misstep like they had once before. He needed to be on top of his game now. Snape stopped pacing as soon as he realized he had begun. He felt a rush of anger overcome him. He was losing his precious grip. That meant the Dark Prince would soon stumble.
"You won't be able to beat him, you know."
He swallowed down a curse. "You know Jackie, if you can't say anything nice. Don't say anything at all." He turned and met the wine colored eyes of Jacqueline Eames, the devil herself and he was floored by how she looked.
There was no life in those eyes he loved; no joy, no hate, not even dull existence, there was just resignation. She was stoic, dead. Her hair was pulled simply into a bun and her already pale face was ashen. She looked beaten.
"What's wrong?" He asked as sincere concern slipped into his voice. He and Jackie were hard to define. Once they had been lovers now they were just allies.
She stepped back when he advanced. She was refusing to meet his eyes. Pushing back thoughts of James, and his own fears, he asked again. "What's wrong, Jackie?"
She looked up, deep into his eyes and shook her head slowly. "It's beginning."
"See, I told you she was faking it. This is all an elaborate excuse to get out of work."
"How could I have ever doubted you, cousin?"
Jamie Kahle opened one eye and glared at her visitors. She groaned and thought about calling her guards but knew it wouldn't help so instead, she forced up a smile. "And from what corner did you two snakes slither out of?"
Amissa Moon chose to ignore the biting tone. She threw back her frost colored hair and sat down on the edge of Jamie's bed as if she was welcome.
Jamie had to smile at the Lost Illuminatti. That was the name given to Amissa Moon by Severus. The heiress of Moon Manor was a year younger then the Morning Star, and the only Illuminatti of her year. She was, Severus liked to tease to no end, the lost sheep of the Illuminatti. She wasn't part of the aristocratic gentry that had given Azkaban its main source of prisoners although she couldn't claim to belong to that select few of Illuminatti who 'shunned evil and went around helping stray kittens' either as Snape so eloquently put it. Instead, she was just Amissa.
And the man behind her was Dimitri Byron. Byron and Kahle were still close and worked together on various occasions. As the aide and advisor to Minister Fudge, Byron was posed to become the next Minister of Magic. This was regardless of the fact he was young, a Slytherin and was known for his Death Eaters friends. In the trials that followed the Dark Lord's fall, his wife had been among the accused but he had stood by her, ever the doting husband and devoted friend. Sadly, the marriage did not survive the trial, nor did many of his friends but he used his past with the Illuminatti as a basis for everything he did now. He had to prove that the Slytherin House was something to be proud.
He leaned over and kissed Jamie's forehead. "Hello, Jamie. You look well."
"Liar." Jamie said. She tried to move but knew she couldn't. It would be months before they knew the extent of her injuries. But she was lucky and she knew it. Her attacker had let her survive.
He wanted to prove a point but it would be slow in coming. She could tell from the attack that he was methodical and cruel; a dangerous mix, she'd witnessed once before. But Severus could always temper his rage until he needed it. This man lacked that skill. He had barely let her survive. He had barely acknowledged to the decision for his own brand of mercy.
And it was only a matter of time before he decided otherwise.
Mordred Eames watched as the man stepped out of the restaurant and turned to walk down that main street. Mordred dropped his cigarette and crushed it under his heel before falling into step behind the Auror.
Gideon Mallory chewed on the inside of his lip and knew he was trapped. There were too many people around to confront the man trailing him. The lost Malfoy sighed heavily and continued to walk at a steady pace, trying not to alert the man behind him. If he could just get to a darkened street…
"Oh, no you don't, dear heart." The man whispered into Gideon's ear. He felt the wand tip against the small of his back.
"Let me guess," Gideon drawled in a lazy voice. "I killed who? Your father? Your brother? Girlfriend?" He snorted. "Or are you just some punk trying to make a name for himself by falling an Auror."
The man chuckled. "I'm the piper."
Gideon instantly recognized that line. Severus use to say it, when he was about to kill people he deemed traitors. Gideon swallowed deeply. "Tell my wife I love her."
"And that you died an honest Auror right?" The man made a noise. "Walk Auror, if you're lucky…you can tell her yourself."