"Who has not hoped. To outrage an enemy's dignity? Who has not been swept.
By the wish to hurt? And who has not thought that the impersonal world.
Deserves no better than to be destroyed. By one fabulous sign of his
displeasure?"
-J. Bronowski, The Face of Violence
---------------------------------------------------------------------------- -----------------------------------------------------------
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or the Harry Potter universe. Those belong to J. K. Rowling. Only the plot is mine, and it's an overdone one at that. But it's one of my favorites, so sue me. Er... let me reword that... please DON'T sue me.
Warning: Slash (m/m relationship) will be present in this fic. Also, I won't point out a change in P.O.V. but I believe it is quite obvious who is telling the story at which time
Chapter One: A Bittersweet Reunion of Sorts
1976
Sixteen year old Severus Snape is not the friendliest of boys. To be honest, he could be down right cruel at times. He's too skinny, too pale and too greasy. He always has his too large nose stuck in a book. And, worst of all, for those small minded bigoted Gryffindors, he is a Slytherin. But, one wonders when they take a closer look at this intelligent young man, is it all just a façade?
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
The Marauders are a group of mischief making Gryffindors in Severus' year.
First and foremost we have James Potter. He is the 'leader' of this foursome. He's a good looking young man, charming with his professors and most – he still can't seem to get Lily Evans to do more than glare at him – girls; but he is also an arrogant, bullying prat; especially when it came to Snivellus.
Second, and not far behind James, we have Sirius Black. He is equally – if not more – good looking than James and just as charming, but, he is far more cruel. There is a certain line that James would never cross, one that Sirius soon would.
Third, we have Remus Lupin. He is also good looking and charming, but in a shy and quiet manner. He is neither arrogant nor cruel, but he never intervenes when his friends go too far with their pranks. Sometimes not stopping something you know is wrong is far worse than participating in the wrongdoing.
Last – and definitely least – we have Peter Pettigrew. Neither good looking nor charming, one would wonder why the other three befriended him. At first, they were just Peter's saviors, those who protected him from those that would belittle him for his size or clumsiness, but then they saw it. When you look into those watery eyes, you see a well hidden secret that one yearns to discover.
And who, more than the Marauders, likes the adventure leading up to a discovery?
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Barely a month into the school year and the students of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry are witness to a confrontation similar to that of the year before after the Defense Against the Dark Arts O.W.L. Severus Snape is once again being held upside down in midair by James Potter. Like the previous year, his struggles are futile.
"Still sporting those gray underpants, I see, Snivellus!" jeers a smug Potter.
Black and Pettigrew, as well as most of the other students, are laughing uproariously and Lupin is yet again pretending not to notice that I am once more at his so called friend's mercy.
I despise them all.
I have failed to respond to any of their taunts today and so Potter deems his usual actions less than satisfactory.
He raises his wand and is about to cast a spell that I know to be borderline to Dark Magic (Light wizards will use anything that is not considered Dark Magic – and sometimes will actually resort to using it – against their adversaries) when a shout reminiscent of the one from last year is heard.
"LEAVE HIM ALONE!"
I look to where the shout originated from and my eyes widen minutely because a Slytherin is never caught unaware. Instead of that mudblood Evans that I was expecting, there is a boy who looks nearly identical to Potter running towards where Potter, Black, Lupin, Pettigrew and I are.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
1996
Sixteen year old Harry Potter was coping with depression. It was nearly a month into his sixth year of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, and for the first time since he had been introduced to the Wizarding World, he would have preferred to be at the Dursleys.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
After the Order members threatened the Dursleys, things at Number Four Privet Drive had vastly improved. I still did chores, but a fair amount that I was always capable of completing in time. I began to enjoy them. They kept my mind off of what had happened at the end of my fifth year and I would be eternally grateful for those few hours of peace. I was now fed just as much as the rest of the family, and best of all, I was allowed to keep my school things.
The chores were never enough to keep my mind off of the loss of my godfather and so I threw myself into my studies. In less than two weeks, all of my homework was done, and done well. I became restless. I needed more books 'Heh,' I thought when the need for more books first occurred to me 'I had never expected to think such a thing.' The only reading materials in the house were my Aunt Petunia's magazines and my Cousin Dudley's comics so I asked my Uncle Vernon to drive me to London. Once arriving in Diagon Alley, I immediately went to Flourish and Blotts, completely bypassing the Quidditch store, and bought several books on Animagus Transformations, Defense, Healing, Wandless Magic and even Potions – just in case I actually made it into the N.E.W.T Potions Class.
By July 31st, I had already read the Defense and Potions books and was half way through the Animagus books. At exactly midnight, the owls began to arrive. I was expecting my birthday gifts and letters from my friends to cheer me up, but all they did was upset me even further. They reminded me of the vague letters I had gotten the previous summer, and thoughts of the previous summer lead to thoughts of Sirius, and thoughts of Sirius lead to my depression worsening. All of the gifts and letters were quickly placed at the bottom of my school trunk. That left the annual Hogwarts letter.
This year the letter was thicker, it not only contained the time and place which I would return to school and the books I needed for the next year – which I quickly put aside so I wouldn't get any hint as to what I received on my O.W.L.S – but my O.W.L. results as well. What I saw astonished me.
****************
Astronomy: Practical – Poor Written – Poor Overall averaged mark – Poor
Care of Magical Creatures: Practical – Exceeds Expectations Overall averaged mark – Exceeds expectations
Charms: Practical – Exceeds Expectations Written Outstanding Overall averaged mark – Outstanding
Defense Against the Dark Arts: Practical – Outstanding Written – Outstanding Overall averaged mark – Outstanding
Divination: Practical – Poor Overall averaged mark – Poor
Herbology: Practical – Exceeds Expectations Written – Exceeds Expectations Overall averaged mark – Exceeds Expectations
History of Magic: Written – Acceptable Overall averaged mark – Acceptable
Potions: Practical – Exceeds Expectations Written – Outstanding Overall averaged mark - Outstanding
Transfiguration: Practical – Outstanding Written – Outstanding Overall averaged mark – Outstanding
****************
I had done far better than I thought I would!
After I got over the shock, I groaned. An Outstanding in Potions meant I would have to spend another year with Snape. Although I no longer loathed the man, I still didn't like him. Only recently had I realized that blaming Snape for Sirius' death was immature. Only recently had I learned to respect the snarky man. And only recently had I begun to once again feel the burn of shame for what my father and godfather had done to Snape.
I thought about the cruel names and comments flung at Snape, who, I was able to admit, had done nothing to provoke them. I thought about the active humiliation – the way my own father had tormented a person in the same way Dudley and his friends had 'Harry Hunted' me. I thought about how like myself before I had learned about being a wizard Snape had seemed. He had seemed so vulnerable, so innocent. The worst part of it being, not only had he seemed vulnerable and innocent, he had truly been vulnerable and innocent. My father and Sirius had disarmed Snape and he had been incapable of defending himself.
If only I could believe that all my father and godfather had done was retaliate when being goaded. If only I could believe that my father had only been his time's 'Golden Boy' when in reality Snape had been telling me the truth all along. My father had been a supercilious git. What I had seen had been bad enough, but what would I have seen if Snape hadn't have pulled me out of his pensieve? Would my father have truly pulled down 'Snivellus'' pants? Would he have gone even further than that?
I had quickly shoved these thoughts to the furthest regions of my mind.
The rest of the summer had passed quickly. I had read through all my books and was happy with my progress. I hoped to be able to transform into my Animagus form by Easter break (it no longer takes as long as it took the Marauders; times have changed). My defense skills, although good before, I would like to think were near exceptional now. Healing, I had found, came natural to me. It was quite the pleasant surprise; perhaps I wouldn't have to spend nearly as much time as I normally did in the Hospital Wing this year. Wandless magic had also come natural to me, although that wasn't as much of a surprise as the Healing. It seemed that my 'blow ups' were not uncontrolled magic, but rather I had unconsciously performed Wandless magic when I had felt the need (think insulting dead parents = one pissed off powerful young wizard = blown up Aunt Marge). And last, but surprisingly no longer least on my list, was my improvement in Potions. I had brewed several difficult but nonvolatile potions and had made them all perfectly within two tries. Luckily, there were no explosions; perhaps it was the lack of malicious comments that had helped the most.
September 1st had arrived.
My Uncle Vernon drove me to King's Cross Station without complaint – you'd almost think my family nearly liked me – and actually helped me find a trolley for my trunk. I went through the wall between platforms 9 and 10 and arrived at platform 9¾. My mask of false happiness quickly slipped into place and not a moment too soon, because before I knew it I had a face fully of curly – no longer bushy – brown hair.
"HARRY!" squealed a bubbly Hermione, and then I was punched lightly on the arm "Why didn't you write us back Harry?!"
"Yeah mate. Were the muggles intercepting your mail again?" asked Ron after giving me a friendly slap on the back.
I smile in what I hope is a reassuring and sincere way. "Yeah." I lied without hesitation "You know the Dursleys."
"Bloody muggles" grumbled Ron "You would have thought that they would have treated you at least a bit better after being threatened by someone like Moody."
"Watch your language Ron!" Hermione chastised good-naturedly
The Golden Trio had been reunited, but although things seemed the same, they never would be again.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Now I was on my way to my N.E.W.T Potions class. I was already a few minutes late, but that was of no consequence because – like Hermione in 3rd year – I had a time turner. With seven N.E.W.T courses and my extra electives, I was in dire need of it. Imagine my surprise when not only was Dueling offered as an elective, but Healing was as well. Along with these and Regular Ancient Runes, which had sparked my interest because you could create spells if you became advanced enough, Dumbledore, whom I was now a little apprehensive of, and McGonagall had agreed to give me a time turner.
Hermione and Ron had allowed me to sleep in this morning and thankfully hadn't seemed to notice a change in my demeanor. I think Hermione caught me looking at the now broken mirror that Sirius had given me once or twice, but she never brought it up. Snape, on the other hand, seemed to know that I was hiding something. I've caught him more times than I can count looking at me strangely. It wasn't a suspicious look; it was more of a contemplative, puzzled look. It was as if not only was he trying to figure me out, but as if he was confused by something he saw. I swear I even saw longing in his eyes once, but I had blinked and all I had seen was disdain.
I had gotten so caught up in my thoughts that I didn't notice the seemingly lost first year sprinting in my direction. By the time I noticed the small Hufflepuff, it was too late. He knocked into me and while he barely held his balance by hurriedly reaching for the banister, I tumbled down the staircase. Instinctively I grabbed my time turner, and just as suddenly as I had found myself tumbling down the stairs, I found myself tumbling through time.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
1976
When I came to, I found myself at the bottom of the staircase with no more than a bump on my head. I reached for my time turner but quickly pulled back my hand and sucked on my fingers. I had cut them on shards of glass. On the shards of glass of my broken time turner.
"Shite!" I cursed under my breath.
Loud cheering stopped my grumbling. I stood up and walked towards the nearest window, looking out curiously. I was surprised to see what looked like nearly all of the students out by the lake.
"I thought we had class now..." I mumbled "Perhaps I went a few hours forward in time when I broke the time turner..."
I made my way towards the Entrance Hall and went out onto the grounds. As I was nearing the lake, I noticed something that made me gasp sharply. Someone was being held upside down in midair just like Snape had been in his pensieve. I wouldn't allow this to happen. I couldn't.
As I got closer, I didn't notice that the students were wearing slightly different uniforms from mine. If I had, I would have taken a closer look and realized that I didn't recognize any of them. But my Gryffindor instincts had kicked in; 'act first, think later.'
"LEAVE HIM ALONE!" I shouted.
Only a few feet away from the humiliating scene, I looked up at the person who was being tormented. As my emerald green eyes made contact with the boy's onyx eyes, I gasped again. I looked towards the person who was degrading the dark eyed boy and promptly fainted. My suspicions of where, or should I say when, I found myself had just been proven correct by the two people I had just seen.
Severus Snape and James Potter.
And neither could have been more than sixteen years old.
Author's Notes: This will be a sort of 'one-shot' if I don't receive reviews. This is my first fic and I would really appreciate any form of feedback. 10 reviews or more and you shall receive Chapter Two. Also, I'm requesting a beta.
-J. Bronowski, The Face of Violence
---------------------------------------------------------------------------- -----------------------------------------------------------
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or the Harry Potter universe. Those belong to J. K. Rowling. Only the plot is mine, and it's an overdone one at that. But it's one of my favorites, so sue me. Er... let me reword that... please DON'T sue me.
Warning: Slash (m/m relationship) will be present in this fic. Also, I won't point out a change in P.O.V. but I believe it is quite obvious who is telling the story at which time
Chapter One: A Bittersweet Reunion of Sorts
1976
Sixteen year old Severus Snape is not the friendliest of boys. To be honest, he could be down right cruel at times. He's too skinny, too pale and too greasy. He always has his too large nose stuck in a book. And, worst of all, for those small minded bigoted Gryffindors, he is a Slytherin. But, one wonders when they take a closer look at this intelligent young man, is it all just a façade?
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
The Marauders are a group of mischief making Gryffindors in Severus' year.
First and foremost we have James Potter. He is the 'leader' of this foursome. He's a good looking young man, charming with his professors and most – he still can't seem to get Lily Evans to do more than glare at him – girls; but he is also an arrogant, bullying prat; especially when it came to Snivellus.
Second, and not far behind James, we have Sirius Black. He is equally – if not more – good looking than James and just as charming, but, he is far more cruel. There is a certain line that James would never cross, one that Sirius soon would.
Third, we have Remus Lupin. He is also good looking and charming, but in a shy and quiet manner. He is neither arrogant nor cruel, but he never intervenes when his friends go too far with their pranks. Sometimes not stopping something you know is wrong is far worse than participating in the wrongdoing.
Last – and definitely least – we have Peter Pettigrew. Neither good looking nor charming, one would wonder why the other three befriended him. At first, they were just Peter's saviors, those who protected him from those that would belittle him for his size or clumsiness, but then they saw it. When you look into those watery eyes, you see a well hidden secret that one yearns to discover.
And who, more than the Marauders, likes the adventure leading up to a discovery?
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Barely a month into the school year and the students of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry are witness to a confrontation similar to that of the year before after the Defense Against the Dark Arts O.W.L. Severus Snape is once again being held upside down in midair by James Potter. Like the previous year, his struggles are futile.
"Still sporting those gray underpants, I see, Snivellus!" jeers a smug Potter.
Black and Pettigrew, as well as most of the other students, are laughing uproariously and Lupin is yet again pretending not to notice that I am once more at his so called friend's mercy.
I despise them all.
I have failed to respond to any of their taunts today and so Potter deems his usual actions less than satisfactory.
He raises his wand and is about to cast a spell that I know to be borderline to Dark Magic (Light wizards will use anything that is not considered Dark Magic – and sometimes will actually resort to using it – against their adversaries) when a shout reminiscent of the one from last year is heard.
"LEAVE HIM ALONE!"
I look to where the shout originated from and my eyes widen minutely because a Slytherin is never caught unaware. Instead of that mudblood Evans that I was expecting, there is a boy who looks nearly identical to Potter running towards where Potter, Black, Lupin, Pettigrew and I are.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
1996
Sixteen year old Harry Potter was coping with depression. It was nearly a month into his sixth year of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, and for the first time since he had been introduced to the Wizarding World, he would have preferred to be at the Dursleys.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
After the Order members threatened the Dursleys, things at Number Four Privet Drive had vastly improved. I still did chores, but a fair amount that I was always capable of completing in time. I began to enjoy them. They kept my mind off of what had happened at the end of my fifth year and I would be eternally grateful for those few hours of peace. I was now fed just as much as the rest of the family, and best of all, I was allowed to keep my school things.
The chores were never enough to keep my mind off of the loss of my godfather and so I threw myself into my studies. In less than two weeks, all of my homework was done, and done well. I became restless. I needed more books 'Heh,' I thought when the need for more books first occurred to me 'I had never expected to think such a thing.' The only reading materials in the house were my Aunt Petunia's magazines and my Cousin Dudley's comics so I asked my Uncle Vernon to drive me to London. Once arriving in Diagon Alley, I immediately went to Flourish and Blotts, completely bypassing the Quidditch store, and bought several books on Animagus Transformations, Defense, Healing, Wandless Magic and even Potions – just in case I actually made it into the N.E.W.T Potions Class.
By July 31st, I had already read the Defense and Potions books and was half way through the Animagus books. At exactly midnight, the owls began to arrive. I was expecting my birthday gifts and letters from my friends to cheer me up, but all they did was upset me even further. They reminded me of the vague letters I had gotten the previous summer, and thoughts of the previous summer lead to thoughts of Sirius, and thoughts of Sirius lead to my depression worsening. All of the gifts and letters were quickly placed at the bottom of my school trunk. That left the annual Hogwarts letter.
This year the letter was thicker, it not only contained the time and place which I would return to school and the books I needed for the next year – which I quickly put aside so I wouldn't get any hint as to what I received on my O.W.L.S – but my O.W.L. results as well. What I saw astonished me.
****************
Astronomy: Practical – Poor Written – Poor Overall averaged mark – Poor
Care of Magical Creatures: Practical – Exceeds Expectations Overall averaged mark – Exceeds expectations
Charms: Practical – Exceeds Expectations Written Outstanding Overall averaged mark – Outstanding
Defense Against the Dark Arts: Practical – Outstanding Written – Outstanding Overall averaged mark – Outstanding
Divination: Practical – Poor Overall averaged mark – Poor
Herbology: Practical – Exceeds Expectations Written – Exceeds Expectations Overall averaged mark – Exceeds Expectations
History of Magic: Written – Acceptable Overall averaged mark – Acceptable
Potions: Practical – Exceeds Expectations Written – Outstanding Overall averaged mark - Outstanding
Transfiguration: Practical – Outstanding Written – Outstanding Overall averaged mark – Outstanding
****************
I had done far better than I thought I would!
After I got over the shock, I groaned. An Outstanding in Potions meant I would have to spend another year with Snape. Although I no longer loathed the man, I still didn't like him. Only recently had I realized that blaming Snape for Sirius' death was immature. Only recently had I learned to respect the snarky man. And only recently had I begun to once again feel the burn of shame for what my father and godfather had done to Snape.
I thought about the cruel names and comments flung at Snape, who, I was able to admit, had done nothing to provoke them. I thought about the active humiliation – the way my own father had tormented a person in the same way Dudley and his friends had 'Harry Hunted' me. I thought about how like myself before I had learned about being a wizard Snape had seemed. He had seemed so vulnerable, so innocent. The worst part of it being, not only had he seemed vulnerable and innocent, he had truly been vulnerable and innocent. My father and Sirius had disarmed Snape and he had been incapable of defending himself.
If only I could believe that all my father and godfather had done was retaliate when being goaded. If only I could believe that my father had only been his time's 'Golden Boy' when in reality Snape had been telling me the truth all along. My father had been a supercilious git. What I had seen had been bad enough, but what would I have seen if Snape hadn't have pulled me out of his pensieve? Would my father have truly pulled down 'Snivellus'' pants? Would he have gone even further than that?
I had quickly shoved these thoughts to the furthest regions of my mind.
The rest of the summer had passed quickly. I had read through all my books and was happy with my progress. I hoped to be able to transform into my Animagus form by Easter break (it no longer takes as long as it took the Marauders; times have changed). My defense skills, although good before, I would like to think were near exceptional now. Healing, I had found, came natural to me. It was quite the pleasant surprise; perhaps I wouldn't have to spend nearly as much time as I normally did in the Hospital Wing this year. Wandless magic had also come natural to me, although that wasn't as much of a surprise as the Healing. It seemed that my 'blow ups' were not uncontrolled magic, but rather I had unconsciously performed Wandless magic when I had felt the need (think insulting dead parents = one pissed off powerful young wizard = blown up Aunt Marge). And last, but surprisingly no longer least on my list, was my improvement in Potions. I had brewed several difficult but nonvolatile potions and had made them all perfectly within two tries. Luckily, there were no explosions; perhaps it was the lack of malicious comments that had helped the most.
September 1st had arrived.
My Uncle Vernon drove me to King's Cross Station without complaint – you'd almost think my family nearly liked me – and actually helped me find a trolley for my trunk. I went through the wall between platforms 9 and 10 and arrived at platform 9¾. My mask of false happiness quickly slipped into place and not a moment too soon, because before I knew it I had a face fully of curly – no longer bushy – brown hair.
"HARRY!" squealed a bubbly Hermione, and then I was punched lightly on the arm "Why didn't you write us back Harry?!"
"Yeah mate. Were the muggles intercepting your mail again?" asked Ron after giving me a friendly slap on the back.
I smile in what I hope is a reassuring and sincere way. "Yeah." I lied without hesitation "You know the Dursleys."
"Bloody muggles" grumbled Ron "You would have thought that they would have treated you at least a bit better after being threatened by someone like Moody."
"Watch your language Ron!" Hermione chastised good-naturedly
The Golden Trio had been reunited, but although things seemed the same, they never would be again.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Now I was on my way to my N.E.W.T Potions class. I was already a few minutes late, but that was of no consequence because – like Hermione in 3rd year – I had a time turner. With seven N.E.W.T courses and my extra electives, I was in dire need of it. Imagine my surprise when not only was Dueling offered as an elective, but Healing was as well. Along with these and Regular Ancient Runes, which had sparked my interest because you could create spells if you became advanced enough, Dumbledore, whom I was now a little apprehensive of, and McGonagall had agreed to give me a time turner.
Hermione and Ron had allowed me to sleep in this morning and thankfully hadn't seemed to notice a change in my demeanor. I think Hermione caught me looking at the now broken mirror that Sirius had given me once or twice, but she never brought it up. Snape, on the other hand, seemed to know that I was hiding something. I've caught him more times than I can count looking at me strangely. It wasn't a suspicious look; it was more of a contemplative, puzzled look. It was as if not only was he trying to figure me out, but as if he was confused by something he saw. I swear I even saw longing in his eyes once, but I had blinked and all I had seen was disdain.
I had gotten so caught up in my thoughts that I didn't notice the seemingly lost first year sprinting in my direction. By the time I noticed the small Hufflepuff, it was too late. He knocked into me and while he barely held his balance by hurriedly reaching for the banister, I tumbled down the staircase. Instinctively I grabbed my time turner, and just as suddenly as I had found myself tumbling down the stairs, I found myself tumbling through time.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
1976
When I came to, I found myself at the bottom of the staircase with no more than a bump on my head. I reached for my time turner but quickly pulled back my hand and sucked on my fingers. I had cut them on shards of glass. On the shards of glass of my broken time turner.
"Shite!" I cursed under my breath.
Loud cheering stopped my grumbling. I stood up and walked towards the nearest window, looking out curiously. I was surprised to see what looked like nearly all of the students out by the lake.
"I thought we had class now..." I mumbled "Perhaps I went a few hours forward in time when I broke the time turner..."
I made my way towards the Entrance Hall and went out onto the grounds. As I was nearing the lake, I noticed something that made me gasp sharply. Someone was being held upside down in midair just like Snape had been in his pensieve. I wouldn't allow this to happen. I couldn't.
As I got closer, I didn't notice that the students were wearing slightly different uniforms from mine. If I had, I would have taken a closer look and realized that I didn't recognize any of them. But my Gryffindor instincts had kicked in; 'act first, think later.'
"LEAVE HIM ALONE!" I shouted.
Only a few feet away from the humiliating scene, I looked up at the person who was being tormented. As my emerald green eyes made contact with the boy's onyx eyes, I gasped again. I looked towards the person who was degrading the dark eyed boy and promptly fainted. My suspicions of where, or should I say when, I found myself had just been proven correct by the two people I had just seen.
Severus Snape and James Potter.
And neither could have been more than sixteen years old.
Author's Notes: This will be a sort of 'one-shot' if I don't receive reviews. This is my first fic and I would really appreciate any form of feedback. 10 reviews or more and you shall receive Chapter Two. Also, I'm requesting a beta.