Harry Snape stuck in Harry Potter's body POV.
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Hermione gave the password (sarklefish) to the portrait of the Fat Lady and we entered the Gryffindor Common Room to much applause. Seems all those dumbass Gryffs thought they needed to have a party to celebrate my triumphant return to world of consciousness in which Gryffindor had just won the Quidditch cup. Thank whatever deity that uses humans as his or her soap opera that Slytherins don't behave in such a manner. The only parties we throw are 'Mudblood' bashing parties and I'm not so big on them. I spent over an hour fending off exuberant Gryffs before I had a chance to drag Ron and Hermione away from prying ears. I asked Hermione to take us to the Prefect rooms seeing as I didn't know where they are. She looked at me funny, but led us out the portrait hole and down the hall. She stopped in front of a suit of armour wearing a crown of pansies and gave it a password (pumonious freneria). The room was, of course, red and gold. Trust the Gryffindors to be typical in their decorations. Lord, I missed the Slytherin Common Room. And my own room, just down the hall from my father's. But I rarely stayed there. There were four doors leading off the main room. Each room had a plague. On the right were Hermione and Ginny Weasley's rooms. On the left were mine and Colin Creevey's. I opened the door to my (Potter's really) room and gestured them inside. They hesitated, but complied. I quickly set the strongest sealing spell I knew on the room. Hermione gasped.
"What?" I asked, a little annoyed. I already knew what she was going to say.
"That's Dark Magic, Harry," she whispered in horror. I snorted.
"Only because it was a Dark Wizard who invented it." I shrugged. "It's not dangerous." She wouldn't give up.
"Oh yes it is. Only you can unseal this room now. You could do anything to us and no one would know."
"But I'm not, so what's the problem?" She gave a Look.
"Harry Potter would never use a Dark spell." She gave me the perfect opening.
"Well I'm not Harry Potter." Ron looked scandalized. Hermione nodded. She had suspected something wasn't right.
"Then who are you?" She asked. I bowed.
"Harold Maximian Snape at your service, fair lady." She giggled and Ron's eyes widened. Combined with his scandalized look, he appeared ridiculous.
"Stop that, you have taken on the semblance of a fish," I snapped at him.
"How?" Hermione asked, drawing my attention back to the important issue.
"Apparently I've stumbled into some sort of alternate universe. One where James Potter is my father." And so I launched into a description of my whole life thus far. A condensed version, of course. Ron just stared at me when I finished. He was beginning to annoy me. Of course, it's not like I really liked the Ron in my world, but he was much better than this idiot who only used his mouth to shovel food into. Not that I'm fond of people who natter on and on, mind you. I just don't like people who are too stupid to say anything remotely sensible. Hermione had been leaning forward in her chair, straining to hear every word that came out of my mouth. When I finished, she sat back and crossed her arms thoughtfully. Pay close attention for what she says next was the first evidence I understood that pointed out that she was different from my Hermione.
"We should go to Dumbledore," she said. I gaped at her as I saw Ron nod his agreement out of the corner of my eye.
"Are you crazy?" I screamed. So much for self-control. "That self-serving fool will only make things worse!" Now they were starting to get angry.
"How is Dumbledore a self-serving fool?" Ron yelled.
"Name one thing he's done to help anyone but himself," I retorted.
"When he saved you from Quirrel in first-year."
"Who do you think Voldemort would have killed first, if I was already dead?"
"Didn't expel us in second-year?"
"How do you think the Wizarding world would have treated him if he had expelled the Boy-Who-Lived?"
"He believed us in third-year?"
"That didn't help us. Fudge didn't believe him. No one believed him. Until they saw the proof." Hermione looked at me suspiciously.
"What proof?" I grinned sadistically. I guess Pettigrew was still loose in this world.
"Pettigrew's head on a stick." The two Gryffindors grimaced. It was Ron who finally broke the uncomfortable silence that had gathered upon my pronouncement.
"When he got you away from Crouch in fourth-year?"
"That whole year was nothing but selfishness. He let me stay in the Tournament because it meant more publicity for him. He should have known something was wrong with Moody. My father tried to warn him all year that Voldemort was getting stronger, but he didn't listen. He should have seen the magic that Crouch put on the Cup to make it a Portkey. My father told me his spectacles are spelled to see magic. Once again, how would the world have viewed him if I had died right under his nose? That man is as bad as Voldemort. Or maybe he's worse. I'm not sure." I fell into a contemplative silence, ignoring the jabbering my friends were doing at my declaration. My father argues that Dumbledore is not nearly as bad as Voldemort. I disagree. I know what it is to be used by both of them. The difference was, with Voldemort, I knew I was being used. He didn't hide anything from me. It was all very straight forward. Dumbledore, though. He twisted my mind. Believing I was doing the 'right' thing. The 'good' thing. And I hate him for it. He lied to me, and that's the worst thing anyone can do. The 'truth' is a powerful thing. And, whatever it is, it shouldn't be hidden away, or lied about.
"He did make you live with the Dursely's when you could have stayed with Ron or even me." I grinned. Hermione was now in agreement with me. Ron looked at us like we were insane and perhaps I am. Hermione moved over to the couch where he was sitting and whispered something in his ear that made him blush. The second thing she whispered made him look guilty. They stood up together.
"So we agree," Ron said standing next to me. "Now what?"
"Now we steal some things."
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