Chapter Three -- Impossible
1996
Harry's jaw hung slack, his pupils dilated in shock. Tom had been recounting the events of an evening back in 1978 and . . .
"That's impossible!" Harry whispered. "There's absolutely no way . . ." Spring green eyes darted up, staring skeptically into crimson. "I can't believe it. My father would have never . . ." Pause as Harry tried to get the words out. "Slept with you."
Tom looked at Harry for a moment, completely puzzled. Then, without warning, he burst into peals of uncontrolled laughter. Harry kneaded his hands into the coverlet, fuming with anger, his face turning a florid shade. "How dare he laugh at a time like this!" Harry thought to himself. "How dare he!" Tom's hysterical laughing fit eventually subsided and he sat there, smiling at Harry with a look that screamed "You silly, silly child."
"I assure you, Harry," Tom said. "I never, ever slept with your father."
Harry furrowed his eyebrows, contemplatively. If that figure in black wasn't his father . . . Who was it and what did this entire thing have to do with his family?
"I see where you thought this was going," Tom grinned. "You thought that the story would play out something like this, didn't you. I fell desperately in love with" -- Another guffaw -- "James Potter and, when he married Lily, I became insanely jealous and vowed vengeance on his entire family." Harry nodded. "I'll grant you this," Tom continued. "The root of all evil stems from one thing: Greed. You know this?" Harry nodded again. "And what stems from greed?" Tom asked. "Well, there's the greed for power, which can lead to corruption. There's the greed for sexual fulfillment, which can lead to lust. There's the greed for complete control over another, which can lead to . . ."
"Jealousy" Harry said, filling in the blank.
Tom smiled approvingly. "Yes, jealousy. I'm a particular victim of this vice. This story, what happened to your parents, it's all due to extreme jealousy."
"But who was the figure in black?" Harry asked, irritated and confused. "I was almost positive that it was my father . . ."
"And here I thought I'd made it obvious," Tom sighed. "You must be reading too deeply into my words. Take them all at surface value, Harry. That's all they'll ever be worth." Harry still looked perplexed. "Harry, when you went to elementary school, did you ever . . . I don't know," he smiled. "It's been so long. Did you ever pull a girl's hair when the two of you were in public but then pick roses for her out in the backyard in private?"
"No," Harry said firmly. "I would never do anything like that . . . But I know plenty of people who would." Harry's thoughts momentarily shifted to Ron and Hermione.
"Then you know what I'm talking about."
Harry paused for a moment, deep in thought.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------- ------------------------------------------
"Ask your friend Severus if he's interested in joining the Death Eaters, won't you Lucius?" It was a command more than a question. Lucius immediately made his feelings on the subject known though.
"You can not . . . You would honestly choose Severus over me?" Lucius asked, biting hard into the words. "How could you? Severus is . . . well . . . He's absolutely hideous! He's all greasy and scummy and his teeth and yellow and he's just so . . ."
"Silence, you insolent brat!" Tom shouted, slapping Lucius once again. "I assure you. I do not want that boy for physical gratification. I admit that even the thought of bedding Severus Snape makes me ill. As you have so prominently noted, his physical traits are lacking . . . And that is putting the matter mildly. He's a horrid little thing. But he's talented and brilliant . . . He's the ideal Death Eater." Tom smiled at the thought of the young Severus Snape joining his ranks.
"Oh, wonderful!" Lucius said, with a certain degree of joy. "I thought for a moment that Snape was the one you'd fallen in love with! I don't know what I would have done then!"
"You would have come to terms with it and accepted your failure," Tom said simply. "Now, if you don't mind, I have to see my . . . darling. Alleviate yourself and go back up to your quarters. I don't wish to see anything more of you tonight, my Lucius."
---------------------------------------------------------------------------- ------------------------------------------
Then all of a sudden, it came to him. Harry's eyes lit up with comprehension but that brightness was soon replaced by a smoggy disgust.
"You . . . But you said . . . How could you ever do anything like that?" Harry asked, wrinkling his nose. "I mean . . . Professor Snape?"
Tom stifled his laughter. "Quite easily, actually. He had . . . everything." Then Tom added as a side note, "Albeit looks, of course. He was intellectual and talented and ambitious and determined and confident and . . . Well, seductive but you don't really need to hear about that, do you."
"God no!" Harry exclaimed, sticking out his tongue at the thought. "Sometimes," Tom thought with a half-smile. "Sometimes I swear that child is no older that five."
"He was perfection in its purest form," Tom said nostalgically. "He was everything I could ever want and the first man I ever pledged my undying devotion and adoration to."
"Oh so there were others," Harry said, crossing his arms over his chest.
"I told you already that jealousy isn't a becoming trait," Tom admonished.
"So what does any of this have to do with my parents?" Harry quipped. "As much as I absolutely adore hearing about your sexual exploits, I thought that this story would have some point. Well, some point other than to make me nauseous . . . And who was my father spending the night with if it wasn't you?"
"Patience is a virtue . . ."
"That I do not possess," Harry said quickly.
Tom tried putting an arm around the young boy but Harry quickly shoved him off, moving hastily to the side.
"Everything's still not clear between the two of us," Harry replied tersely.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------- ------------------------------------------
Severus Snape sat in his chambers, running a brush through his hair, pulling at the tangles and mats that had accumulated during the week. The portrait above the mirror looked down on him skeptically -- The young man yanking desperately at the rat's nest on the back of his head.
"You know, my dear," the portrait said softly. "If you'd brush your hair every day, you wouldn't have these problems . . ."
Severus scowled up at the portrait but continued struggling with the knots of greasy black. The portrait silently appraised him. "You're certainly lacking in appearances, aren't you?" she whispered under her breath, making sure that he couldn't hear her. The pale, sallow skin made him look sickly -- possibly anemic. The yellow teeth hadn't been brushed in god knows how long. The hooked nose jutted out like a peninsula off of the mainland. Yes, his features were awkward at best. The eyes weren't bad . . . Not exceptional but certainly not bad.
"Look on the bright side, dear," the portrait said, trying to be cheerful. "At least with all that oil, you don't look a day over twenty!"
"Shut up, won't you?" Severus glowered, easing that last clump out of his hair slowly. The dull strands hung limply down to his shoulders. "Better," Severus remarked. "It will do. I have more important things to think about at the moment . . ."
"Of course," the portrait sighed quietly. "Always something more important than hygiene. I swear, of all of the rooms in Hogwarts, I get hung in this one . . ."
Severus walked over to the desk next to his bed, pulling some parchment out of one of the drawers. He was about to begin writing up that surprise potions test that he had planned for the next day when a picture on the mantel caught his eye.
The portrait had an aura of dignity surrounding it -- Two men, seated in a parlor, looking enamoured with each other but trying to hide it for posterity's sake. Both of them clad in solemn black, though one was far more attractive than the other. The older man quickly reached out and ran a finger along his companion's cheekbone. The younger boy looked away modestly but blushed brilliantly -- Rose against white.
"Stop being so sentimental," Severus scolded, turning the picture around so that he wouldn't have to look at it anymore.
"Something you're hiding?" the portrait asked, curious.
"Stay out of it," Severus hissed, returning to his work.
Author's Note: I cannot tell you all how much I relished in all of the reviewers who assumed that James Potter was the one who was sleeping with Tom! Do you really think I'd be that predictable? Anyway, this story has actually been extremely well constructed (Huzzah me) and everything -- Everything -- will tie together very soon with much slash to come including a few more tumultuous plot twists for your reading pleasure. You can also put two and two together now and take one good guess at who James Potter is sleeping with (This one isn't challenging at all -- I promise you).
1996
Harry's jaw hung slack, his pupils dilated in shock. Tom had been recounting the events of an evening back in 1978 and . . .
"That's impossible!" Harry whispered. "There's absolutely no way . . ." Spring green eyes darted up, staring skeptically into crimson. "I can't believe it. My father would have never . . ." Pause as Harry tried to get the words out. "Slept with you."
Tom looked at Harry for a moment, completely puzzled. Then, without warning, he burst into peals of uncontrolled laughter. Harry kneaded his hands into the coverlet, fuming with anger, his face turning a florid shade. "How dare he laugh at a time like this!" Harry thought to himself. "How dare he!" Tom's hysterical laughing fit eventually subsided and he sat there, smiling at Harry with a look that screamed "You silly, silly child."
"I assure you, Harry," Tom said. "I never, ever slept with your father."
Harry furrowed his eyebrows, contemplatively. If that figure in black wasn't his father . . . Who was it and what did this entire thing have to do with his family?
"I see where you thought this was going," Tom grinned. "You thought that the story would play out something like this, didn't you. I fell desperately in love with" -- Another guffaw -- "James Potter and, when he married Lily, I became insanely jealous and vowed vengeance on his entire family." Harry nodded. "I'll grant you this," Tom continued. "The root of all evil stems from one thing: Greed. You know this?" Harry nodded again. "And what stems from greed?" Tom asked. "Well, there's the greed for power, which can lead to corruption. There's the greed for sexual fulfillment, which can lead to lust. There's the greed for complete control over another, which can lead to . . ."
"Jealousy" Harry said, filling in the blank.
Tom smiled approvingly. "Yes, jealousy. I'm a particular victim of this vice. This story, what happened to your parents, it's all due to extreme jealousy."
"But who was the figure in black?" Harry asked, irritated and confused. "I was almost positive that it was my father . . ."
"And here I thought I'd made it obvious," Tom sighed. "You must be reading too deeply into my words. Take them all at surface value, Harry. That's all they'll ever be worth." Harry still looked perplexed. "Harry, when you went to elementary school, did you ever . . . I don't know," he smiled. "It's been so long. Did you ever pull a girl's hair when the two of you were in public but then pick roses for her out in the backyard in private?"
"No," Harry said firmly. "I would never do anything like that . . . But I know plenty of people who would." Harry's thoughts momentarily shifted to Ron and Hermione.
"Then you know what I'm talking about."
Harry paused for a moment, deep in thought.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------- ------------------------------------------
"Ask your friend Severus if he's interested in joining the Death Eaters, won't you Lucius?" It was a command more than a question. Lucius immediately made his feelings on the subject known though.
"You can not . . . You would honestly choose Severus over me?" Lucius asked, biting hard into the words. "How could you? Severus is . . . well . . . He's absolutely hideous! He's all greasy and scummy and his teeth and yellow and he's just so . . ."
"Silence, you insolent brat!" Tom shouted, slapping Lucius once again. "I assure you. I do not want that boy for physical gratification. I admit that even the thought of bedding Severus Snape makes me ill. As you have so prominently noted, his physical traits are lacking . . . And that is putting the matter mildly. He's a horrid little thing. But he's talented and brilliant . . . He's the ideal Death Eater." Tom smiled at the thought of the young Severus Snape joining his ranks.
"Oh, wonderful!" Lucius said, with a certain degree of joy. "I thought for a moment that Snape was the one you'd fallen in love with! I don't know what I would have done then!"
"You would have come to terms with it and accepted your failure," Tom said simply. "Now, if you don't mind, I have to see my . . . darling. Alleviate yourself and go back up to your quarters. I don't wish to see anything more of you tonight, my Lucius."
---------------------------------------------------------------------------- ------------------------------------------
Then all of a sudden, it came to him. Harry's eyes lit up with comprehension but that brightness was soon replaced by a smoggy disgust.
"You . . . But you said . . . How could you ever do anything like that?" Harry asked, wrinkling his nose. "I mean . . . Professor Snape?"
Tom stifled his laughter. "Quite easily, actually. He had . . . everything." Then Tom added as a side note, "Albeit looks, of course. He was intellectual and talented and ambitious and determined and confident and . . . Well, seductive but you don't really need to hear about that, do you."
"God no!" Harry exclaimed, sticking out his tongue at the thought. "Sometimes," Tom thought with a half-smile. "Sometimes I swear that child is no older that five."
"He was perfection in its purest form," Tom said nostalgically. "He was everything I could ever want and the first man I ever pledged my undying devotion and adoration to."
"Oh so there were others," Harry said, crossing his arms over his chest.
"I told you already that jealousy isn't a becoming trait," Tom admonished.
"So what does any of this have to do with my parents?" Harry quipped. "As much as I absolutely adore hearing about your sexual exploits, I thought that this story would have some point. Well, some point other than to make me nauseous . . . And who was my father spending the night with if it wasn't you?"
"Patience is a virtue . . ."
"That I do not possess," Harry said quickly.
Tom tried putting an arm around the young boy but Harry quickly shoved him off, moving hastily to the side.
"Everything's still not clear between the two of us," Harry replied tersely.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------- ------------------------------------------
Severus Snape sat in his chambers, running a brush through his hair, pulling at the tangles and mats that had accumulated during the week. The portrait above the mirror looked down on him skeptically -- The young man yanking desperately at the rat's nest on the back of his head.
"You know, my dear," the portrait said softly. "If you'd brush your hair every day, you wouldn't have these problems . . ."
Severus scowled up at the portrait but continued struggling with the knots of greasy black. The portrait silently appraised him. "You're certainly lacking in appearances, aren't you?" she whispered under her breath, making sure that he couldn't hear her. The pale, sallow skin made him look sickly -- possibly anemic. The yellow teeth hadn't been brushed in god knows how long. The hooked nose jutted out like a peninsula off of the mainland. Yes, his features were awkward at best. The eyes weren't bad . . . Not exceptional but certainly not bad.
"Look on the bright side, dear," the portrait said, trying to be cheerful. "At least with all that oil, you don't look a day over twenty!"
"Shut up, won't you?" Severus glowered, easing that last clump out of his hair slowly. The dull strands hung limply down to his shoulders. "Better," Severus remarked. "It will do. I have more important things to think about at the moment . . ."
"Of course," the portrait sighed quietly. "Always something more important than hygiene. I swear, of all of the rooms in Hogwarts, I get hung in this one . . ."
Severus walked over to the desk next to his bed, pulling some parchment out of one of the drawers. He was about to begin writing up that surprise potions test that he had planned for the next day when a picture on the mantel caught his eye.
The portrait had an aura of dignity surrounding it -- Two men, seated in a parlor, looking enamoured with each other but trying to hide it for posterity's sake. Both of them clad in solemn black, though one was far more attractive than the other. The older man quickly reached out and ran a finger along his companion's cheekbone. The younger boy looked away modestly but blushed brilliantly -- Rose against white.
"Stop being so sentimental," Severus scolded, turning the picture around so that he wouldn't have to look at it anymore.
"Something you're hiding?" the portrait asked, curious.
"Stay out of it," Severus hissed, returning to his work.
Author's Note: I cannot tell you all how much I relished in all of the reviewers who assumed that James Potter was the one who was sleeping with Tom! Do you really think I'd be that predictable? Anyway, this story has actually been extremely well constructed (Huzzah me) and everything -- Everything -- will tie together very soon with much slash to come including a few more tumultuous plot twists for your reading pleasure. You can also put two and two together now and take one good guess at who James Potter is sleeping with (This one isn't challenging at all -- I promise you).