Hello, everyone! I'm writing this chapter early because I'm going on vacation tomorrow and don't know when I'll have time to type again.. I think I'm going to type this now and save it to disk and carry it around with me until I get to my beloved grandparents house, which has a beloved computer in it. Aren't you happy?
Wow, I'm really glad that everyone is enjoying my story. And yes, crazycheesecake, you know that I love you. Erm.. thank you so much to those who have reviewed thus far.. Natalie Wood, Tina-Snape, Atari420, Lirael (whose suspicions have yet to be seen to, don't they? Haha but yes, a very good guess indeed!), Lei Dumbledore, Mikee, Rebecca, Xirleb70, desertwren, Zardiphillian Beryllix (I want to know how in the world you picked out that name! Zardiphiliian beryllix…I would never have thought of that), momma-dar, and lady lightning.
This chapter is increasingly long and has a TON of Snape and Harry dialogue. Have a happy time! As those are my reviewers right now, though I *hope* that there will be more shortly….let's get on with the show!
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"What, Harry?" asked Lupin, thoroughly confused.
"I know where he is!"
"How?" asked McGonagall.
"We were walking, and I was trying to remember if I had ever seen anything that would help us in any of my visions. Not just the recent visions, but the older ones, as well. I had forgotten- at the beginning of last year, I saw Voldemort and Wormtail plotting to kill me, as usual, and there was an old man- HAH! I know exactly where he is! He's in the Riddle House!"
"The Riddle House?" asked Remus, perplexed.
"Yes! The house that once belonged to Tom Riddle and his parents. All three of their bodies were found in the house a long time ago, but Tom wasn't actually dead, obviously. I'm not really sure how that happened," Harry explained, looking thoughtful. "But anyway, I remember the place. It's up on a hill overlooking a small village. The old man was the caretaker of the house until Voldemort killed him- that explains why the gardens are dead now. I know for sure that the place was old, rickety, and cold, and quiet, too. The only animal I heard was Voldemort's snake, Nagini. That's it! That's where he is!" exclaimed Harry triumphantly.
The older wizards looked confused, but excited. "Where is the Riddle House, Harry?" asked McGonagall.
"Hmm. Actually, I don't really know," he said sheepishly. "But we can just look up the Riddle House and figure out where he is. It shouldn't be too hard. The people around the house are probably terrified of it. I mean, I know that I definitely wouldn't want to go up there if I knew that.." Harry blushed as he realized that he was rambling. "Sorry," he said softly.
Lupin shook off his apology. "So we can look up the Riddle House tonight and find out where it is," he said.
"Yes," answered Harry.
"Ah, but my dear friends, you're forgetting something," Dumbledore said sagely. "While it may be possible to find the Riddle House, and therefore find Severus, we need to stop and think about what we're going to do when we get there. We can't really expect the four of us to take on Voldemort and all of the Death Eaters."
Any happy mood that the other three wizards may have been experiencing vanished upon his words. Harry hadn't even considered what they would do once they got to the house. As the Gryffindor he was, he never did pause to think about these things.
"Oh yeah," said Harry glumly. One look at McGonagall and Remus told him that they obviously hadn't thought of this, either.
By this time, the group had reached the Great Hall and were sitting next to each other, all contemplating this new idea of rescue and battle.
Minerva was the first to speak up. "Obviously, there will be anti-apparation barriers around the place, and the floo will be closed.."
"No!" said Harry suddenly. Everybody looked at him. "There can't be anti-apparation barriers. Or.. if there were, they'd have to be turned off for a moment while Voldemort summons his Death Eaters. That means that for a second, it's possible for us to break through!"
"My, my, Harry. You certainly are the brains of this operation," said McGonagall, laughing.
"Forgive me, Professor, but I've had a lot of experience," replied Harry. This caused Lupin to chuckle and Dumbledore to raise his eyebrows in amusement.
"How would we know when Voldemort is summoning? None of us bear the Dark Mark. It's impossible to know when he's calling," said Lupin, sounding weary.
The remaining three wizards went in to quiet contemplation. Harry lifted up his head, as though he had thought of something. "I guess we could go by my scar," he suggested.
"That doesn't always work, though, Harry. Sometimes, you get visions of Death Eater meetings that you weren't truly aware of," said Dumbledore.
"Mm," murmured Harry in agreement.
"Harry," started Lupin, grinning mischievously. "Do you think, well, since you got inside Snape's head, you could get inside You-Know-Who's head, too?"
McGonagall slapped the back of his head and Harry rolled his eyes. "You know, Remus, I don't really think it would be too intelligent for me to crawl into my archenemy's head and read his thoughts," said Harry.
"You crawled into Snape's head, and he's nearly as bad as You-Know-Who!" said Lupin, trying hard to contain his laughter. Dumbledore grinned slightly, a familiar blue twinkle in his eyes, and McGonagall gave the werewolf an ominous look.
"Yes, well, at least Snape doesn't want to kill me. Push me around, inflict pain, maybe, but not to kill. And I'm pretty sure that the only reason I can get inside his head is because.." Harry stopped suddenly, realizing that he had almost revealed too much.
"Because?" asked Lupin.
"Because I know him, or something. Maybe it's because he's a teacher here. I don't know. Don't ask me," said Harry quickly, breathing a sigh of relief when he didn't see confusion or suspicion on Remus's face.
"That makes sense," said the werewolf, looking thoughtful.
Silence followed until the four wizards had finished their meals.
"We're going to need more than four," Harry announced as they stood up, "unless we find a way around confrontation. But I don't think there's any way of avoiding that, do you? I'm sure that Voldemort has barriers up that let him know when another wizard enters the premises. Maybe some shields, too, so light wizards can't get in. You know, like the ones at the Dursley's that keep the dark wizards out."
"Of course he will," noted Dumbledore softly.
"The only ways I know to get in are to somehow find a break in the apparation barriers through Voldemort's summoning, which at this point in time is debatable, or.. well, never mind."
"What is it, Harry?"
"I could get myself captured," he said, eyeing his professors cautiously.
"ABSOLUTELY NOT!" shouted Remus and Minerva at the same time.
"Whoa, whoa, okay! It was just an idea!" Harry said, trying to calm them down.
"Harry, first of all, we can't allow you to be captured, especially not willingly. Second, what good would it do if you were captured? Then Voldemort would have you and Severus. He would confiscate your wand, and all that would come of that would be your capture and probable death. Which would be a bad thing," Remus reminded him.
Harry briefly rubbed his hand against his pocket, where he was keeping his wand safe. He privately thanked the gods of wand-keepers that McGonagall had been able to find it when she snuck back into the Dursleys to retrieve it.
"Oh, right," he said, actively admitting defeat, but the determined gleam in his eye didn't disappear. "So without my wand, I could do nothing," said Harry.
"Unless you've come up with some crazy way to spout your spells, I'm afraid so, child," said Remus.
Dumbledore, Lupin, McGonagall, and Harry walked down the hall to the library, each of them lost in thought. That seemed to be happening a lot lately.
Breaking the silence, Harry said, "You know, it's kind of weird that Voldemort hasn't done anything to Snape since this morning. I mean, last night, there was like a two-hour time gap between curses, I swear. And now, it's nighttime, and he hasn't done anything for nine and a half hours. It doesn't make sense."
"You should be grateful, Harry," said Lupin.
"I am grateful. But it's just.. odd, don't you think?"
"Voldemort works in strange ways," murmured the headmaster.
Harry reached the library first, with the others on his heels. The four sat down in a cluster of chairs by which they had left their books.
"Now remember, we're looking for the Riddle House," reminded Dumbledore. A chorus of "Yes, Albus," and "Yes, Headmaster," followed.
Harry sat in the northmost chair looking through a heavy book entitled Haunted Houses.
'Not very original," Harry thought to himself. 'Hermione would love this book.'
The thought of his friends made Harry nervous. God, they would get there in a little more than a month and have no idea who he was. Well, maybe Hermione would. She always had a knack for noticing things about people. And if he told them the truth.. ugh. He didn't even want to think about it. Ron would freak out, alert the entire student body to the fact, and then ignore Harry for a while for not telling him to begin with. Hermione would be worried and then she would run to the library to see what kind of spell he was put under to change his appearance so dramatically.
'Crappy friends. They never did anything for him, anyway. Why did he waste his time?'
Harry shook his head to clear his thoughts. Good lord! His friends had never been anything but good to him. They were the first friends he's ever had! They had risked their livers for him so many times, had gotten in trouble with him, and had been with him all the time. What was wrong with him? Ron and Hermione were the best friends anyone could ever wish for. He had no idea why he was having such negative thoughts.
Wait a second- yes he did! Harry had to hold back a laugh. He was having negative thoughts because he had obviously inherited his 'father's' short temper and angry disposition. He would really have to work on that if he didn't want to end up like Snape. Which he didn't. Snape was a greasy old git who got his kicks by torturing little children. He never smiled. Harry didn't remember ever hearing him laugh. God, how was this man possibly related to him? It was impossible, wasn't it?
But then Harry remembered that every time he looked in the mirror, he saw Severus Snape. Well, not quite Severus Snape. Thankfully, his eyes were green, his nose wasn't all crooked and beat up, and his long black hair didn't show the slightest bit of grease. Harry would have actually liked his appearance, if it weren't for the fact that he resembled his most hated potions master.
Harry sighed and looked at the book in front of him. Oddly, he was on a completely different page than he was when he last looked at the book.
Damn subconscious, he thought.
I couldn't agree more.
What? Snape?
No, you idiot, the ghost of Christmas past.
How are you in my head?
See, this is why I ask you that question. Confusing, isn't it?
That doesn't answer my question.
I think it has something to do with us being 'related.'
Shut up, Snape.
Temper, temper, Potter. Have you figured out where I am?
Yes. You're in the Riddle House.
The Riddle House? By Little Hangleton?
Is that where it is? We're still looking.
Well now you know.
Thank you, Professor.
So how are you getting me out?
We're still trying to figure that out. There will be anti-apparation barriers, anti-Floo, hundreds of shields around the house, Death Eaters, and – oh, yeah – Voldemort.
Don't be sarcastic, Potter.
Like you're any stranger to sarcasm.
Shut your mouth, Potter.
You're the one in my head. You can leave at any time, if you don't like what you're hearing.
I want to try something. I, unlike you, have a knack for research. Ignore me in your head unless I tell you something and read. I think I should be able to 'read' the books along with you.
Why don't you just take over my entire body while you're at it?
As you wish, Potter.
Harry felt a burst of strength penetrate his mind, and then he felt nothing. He tried to tell his headmaster about what Snape had said about Little Hangleton, but his lips wouldn't move.
Shit.
Language, Potter.
I was being sarcastic! I didn't actually think you'd take over my body!!
I've forgotten what it's like to be fifteen. You're still so.. young.
Yeah, well, this is what it's like to be a teenager who's not a greasy git.
Do you ever shut up?
No. Let me go!
You're the one who told me to take over your body.
Yeah, and what a good job you're doing, too. I'm sitting here staring into space and Dumbledore is giving me weird looks.
Oh.
Harry felt his lips twist into a sneer.
"Harry? What's wrong?" asked Dumbledore, noting the odd expression on Harry's face.
"Oh, um, nothing. Just thinking," said Harry's voice.
Dumbledore smiled at him and went back to his work.
"If you don't mind, I'm going to go walk for a minute. I'll be right back," said Harry, or, um, Snape.
Snape made Harry's body stand up and take a step. Pain shot through his leg. "Ow!" he shouted. Snape glared at the Headmaster when he laughed at him.
I'm on crutches, you imbecile, thought Harry.
Snape grabbed the crutches and hobbled out of the room.
Where are we going?
Around.
Why?
Because I can.
Snape was in complete control of Harry's body, which, surprisingly enough, didn't make Harry too incredibly frustrated. He crutched down the long corridor, past the portraits and classrooms, and down to his own chambers.
People will think it's rather strange to find Harry Potter in Severus Snape's personal chambers, you know.
Good thing it's summer holidays, then. Nobody will notice.
Snape opened the door to his chambers with a whispered password (shriveled figs). If Harry had been able to, he would have gasped in shock. Instead of the green and silver Slytherin colors that he was sure adorned the walls, Snape's dungeon chambers were decorated in a warm maroon color. He had elegant wood armoires and a cozy-looking couch by an unlit fire, and a large bookshelf that seemed to hold hundreds of books. The whole room was.. relaxed. Elegant, but perfectly comfortable. Harry found himself marveling at his professor's good tastes.
Wow.
What did you expect, Potter? Silver and green and the Dark Mark?
Well, silver and green, to be sure. But.. I don't know. Just not what I expected.
Hmph. Just because I'm miserable and grumpy doesn't mean that I want to live my life in filth. I'd rather be comfortable in my solitude.
Why are you miserable?
None of your business, Potter.
Whatever you say. Why are we here, anyway?
That's also none of your business.
Ooookay. I'll shut up now.
Finally, you learn.
Severus wanted to be somewhere familiar. Really, he felt like throwing things against the wall and crying. God, he was in his home. He would probably never see it again. It wasn't as though he didn't trust Dumbledore to find him, but he knew that he would probably be killed before he was rescued. If nothing else, Voldemort would kill him just because he knew that Voldemort was coming.
Snape slumped to his bed and stared at his reflection in the mirror. God, he looked skinny. And tired. He yawned and leaned back on the bed.
Almost immediately, he sat up straight. That wasn't his reflection.. that was.. POTTER'S reflection!!
Harry/Snape's mouth dropped open in shock.
Surprised, Professor?
OH MY GOD, POTTER! What happened to you?
Is that concern I hear, my dear professor?
Of course not! Why would I be concerned about a rebellious brat like you?
You thought you were seeing your own reflection.
You've.. changed a bit.
Professor, really! I just saw you a couple of days ago. Don't you remember?
The memory is a bit foggy.
You've blocked it out, haven't you? Plus, you weren't paying attention at the time.
I have good reason to block it out.
I'm sure that you do.
I'm leaving now.
Really? Where are you going?
Back to my own mind.
Good. I was getting tired of you, anyway.
If it weren't summertime, you would have lost a hundred points for that.
Good thing it's summertime.
Hmph.
Weren't you leaving?
Yes.
Good.
And Potter? GET OUT OF MY CHAMBERS!
And then Snape was gone. Harry collapsed to the floor as he suddenly got control of his body again. He stood up unsteadily, grabbed the crutches, and left Snape's quarters. He didn't want to be there any longer than he had to.
