Disclaimer: I do not own HP.  I repeat, I do NOT own HP.  But, of course, you lot know this, right?  If not, whack yourself repeatedly in the head with a blunt object until you do.

Chapter 3 – Light From a Candle

"Hey, Snapey!"

"Oh, Snapi-poo!"

"Wakey, wakey, Snapikins!"

Severus – er, Ethan opened his eyes to find the Weasley twins and Lee Jordan hovering over him.  He scowled at them and looked around him.  It was almost a week since the botched potion had reverted him to his fifteen-year-old self.

Ethan mentally counted the days as he remembered that he had come in the night before and collapsed on one of the common room couches.  The Weasley twins had forced him to try out for the Quidditch team and whatever Gryffindor idiot was Captain, had decided to have tryouts at night.  Last night, to be exact.

So now, an Ethan with three hours of sleep and a severe migraine was reaching for his wand to hex the twins and Lee's heads off.  Or turn them into snakes.  Whichever sounded better.

"What.  Do.  You.  Want?" he growled as he continued to move his hand towards his wand, debating over transfiguring them into snakes or snails.  Or perhaps ants.  No, then they could bite.  Damnit, what…  Ah!  Bunnies.  There was an idea…

Fred (or was that George?) grinned and replied, "Congratulations, Snape.  You're our new Keeper."

Visions of two red rabbits and a black one vanished from Ethan's mind at those words.  His jaw worked for a moment until he could find words.

"WHAT?"

* * * *

"Oh, come on, Ethan.  It can't be THAT BAD."

Ethan glared at Hermione across the table.  The girl was the only one of the Gryffindors willing to try and make friends with him.  And in doing so, had separated the Trio.  Or just Ron, to be politically correct.

"It can, is, and will be that bad," said Ethan, waggling his fork at the girl.  What really irked him was that he enjoyed talking to her!

"You don't know that," argued Hermione.  "And don't say you're psychic."

Ethan burst out laughing.  The very idea!

"Psychic?  Me?  Hardly."  Ethan laughed again and added, "Why – not even Trelawney's psychic!"

"You've met her?"

Nice slip, Sev.

"My father talks about the other professors sometimes. He thinks Trelawney's starkers."

Good save.

"Everyone thinks that," said Harry as he sat down beside Hermione, plucking an apple from the fruit bowl and taking a large bite out of it.

At least he swallows before he speaks, thought Ethan, remembering Ron blowing up at Hermione when the girl'd told him she was friends with Ethan.  The ginger-haired boy had sprayed pudding all over the three of them and the table.

"Is Ron still mad at me?" asked Hermione.

Harry rolled his eyes and growled, "Oh, Ron's gone starkers too.  He was going on and on last night about how Ethan here was a no good scoundrel who should have been put in Slytherin with our Ferrety fiend – no, no, let me finish Ethan – and then I told him that if you wanted to be friends with Ethan, you're going to be friends with Ethan, whether he liked it or not."

Ethan sat back down from half-rising out of his seat to go hex Ron (he'd been moving unconsciously) and said, "I bet he didn't like that."

Harry nearly fell off the bench he laughed so much.

"DIDN'T LIKE THAT?  He bloody went ballistic on me!  Told me that if I was such good friends with you, then I should just leave him alone."  He shrugged, took another bit of apple, chewed, and swallowed before continuing.  "So I did.  You can't imagine the look on his face."

As Hermione laughed, Ethan puzzled over what he had learned in a mere week about Harry Potter.

Seeing Harry sitting alone by the fire on night, Ethan had asked Hermione what was wrong with him.  The girl had looked worriedly at her friend then had made him promise to never let Harry know what he had told him.  He had promised, wondering what could be so bad.

He had found out.  He had thought that Harry had led the same carefree life his father had.  Instead he had found out that the boy had grown up belittled and beaten down by his aunt and uncle, much like Ethan had.  In fact, they were very much alike when you got down to it.  Except – if what he had tried to decipher from the Sorting Hat's words were true – he had almost been put in Slytherin while Ethan (in his first Sorting) had almost been put in Gryffindor.

It was strange how some things turned out really.  And now, Ethan, knowing what he did now about the Boy-Who-Lived, he couldn't dislike him no matter how he tried.

"Hey, Ethan, are you listening?"

"Hmm?"  Ethan snapped out of his musing to look at Harry.

"Quidditch practice tonight.  Heard it from the twins themselves."

"THEY'RE BOTH CAPTAIN?"

Harry nodded solemnly.

"Captain One and Captain Two."  He then chuckled and said, "Ah, the late night tryout.  Yes, there ought to be some revenge for them keeping us up till five."

"Harry, Ethan," admonished Hermione.  "You two aren't doing to go anything stupid, are you?"

"No, not stupid," said the raven-haired boy with an evil grin.  "What do you say, Ethan?  I know they kept you up later than me."

I could really get to like this boy, thought Ethan as he gripped Harry's extended hand in his own, grinning wryly as Hermione shook her head.

"What's your plan?"