Like Father, Like Son
Harry Potter. The Boy-Who-Lived. Savior to the Wizarding World. Son of the famous Lily and James Potter. All of these titles describe him, but, not really. They don't tell who he is, what his mind is like, and how he has suffered. This is a story about how the Boy-Who-Lived became something else. The son of a Death Eater.
"LILY!" A deep voice shouted, resonating throughout the house. "I'M BACK"
The man who yelled could hear a loud shriek echo from upstairs, and exactly three seconds later he was hit in the stomach by a short, red-haired woman. Towering over her, he bent down, and placed a passionate kiss on her lips. She looked up at him, her green eyes glittering with tears.
"We've missed you so much!" She whispered, after a second, her voice caught in her throat. She placed a hand over her expanding stomach. "The baby's glad you're back, too."
With a smile on his lips, relief in his obsidian black eyes, the man hugged Lily even tighter. "I'm back. And I'll be here a long time, long enough to greet my baby into the world. And we'll be a family, Lils. No pretending anymore."
"I love you."
"I love you, too, Lils."
Then, a black haired man came down the stairs. At seeing the man his "wife" was hugging, James Potter broke in to a grin, glad to see his friend home and safe again.
"It's great to see you back in one piece, Severus."
And Severus was true to his word. Lily Potter and Severus Snape were together. By keeping the whole wizarding world under the impression that Lily and James were married, they were able to stay with one another, despite the Death Eater and Muggle-born relationship. As Remeus Lupin , another good friend of theirs said, "It's like a wizard version of Romeo and Juliet, without all the death and despair, of course."
The relationship had started a very long time ago. Lily had been good friends with the Marauders, and had shocked everyone when she had become friends with "that greasy scum, Snivellus". But, the friendship had done both of them good, and none of the boys could argue that Lily seemed a lot happier when she was around Severus. But, the tidings of war changed their lives. Snape was already a Death Eater, spying for Dumbledore when he was given the word to kill several powerful aurors.
Lily was furious. They had a very public falling out. No one ever thought that they would see each other again. What everyone didn't know was that they had a very private making up, and kept their relationship a secret from there.
To the public, Lily began to spend a lot of time with James, and when they announced that they were to be married, none were surprised. However, Lily did not marry James. She married Severus, who was placed under many different appearance charms. Sirius was the best man, thinking that it was James wedding.
No one, of course, except for a select few could know of these on goings. Only James, Lily, Severus and Remeus were aware about the whole thing, despite how much it pained the two Marauders to keep a secret from their other friends, Sirius Black and Peter Pettigrew. But Severus had dire news that someone close to the foursome was spreading information, and it could very well be one of the two.
This news was hardest on James, who could never imagine Sirius, who had been his best friend since his very first trip on the Hogwarts Express actually being a spy. But then again, surely Peter wasn't smart enough to give such information?
Until Voldemort was defeated, they'd never know.
Dumbledore knew as well, but that was a given. If it had anything to do with members of the Light side, Albus knew. He was everywhere, and, despite his age, was clearly the main person fighting the war against the Dark Lord.
The baby had been born on a bright July 31. Severus had been so filled with joy, yet his heart broke when he thought about all the terrible things that could happen to his precious son. There were two birth certificates filled out, one, claiming the boy to be Harry James Potter, son of Lily and James Potter, the other, the true one, introducing the baby as Sameth Augustus Snape, son of Lily and Severus Snape. The latter one was preserved, kept in a security vault at Hogwarts, along with several other things used to protect the boy's true paternity.
More than appearance charms were placed on the boy, to keep him safe. Not only did he look incredibly like James, (in fact, the only feature of Lily's he had was his eyes), but he also inherited some of his genetic talents, like an ability in Transfiguration, and a usually even tempered personality. The charms were to wear off when the boy was sixteen, and the parts of him that were James would turn in to Severus, unless the charms were repeated. To make sure that the charms didn't wear off as soon as the boy turned sixteen, an owl was arranged to be sent on the boy's birthday. It would release a gas that would spark the beginning of the changes, and the rest would follow over the next few days. By a weeks time, the boy would be completely a Snape.
Neither father nor mother was looking that far into the future, though. In these dark times, Voldemort could strike quickly, and before you could fully comprehend the green light shooting towards you, you'd be dead. It was better off to live for the day, however pessimistic you thought that view.
After the child was born, the couple was in bliss. However, it was to be short lived, as Voldemort became aware that the child of James and Lily was born, fulfilling a prophecy that could lead to his downfall. He summoned all his Death Eaters to him, and kept them working hard to find more ways to immortality.
Then, one Halloween night, he decided that the time was right, and marched upon Godric's Hollow. With him were his top servants, Lucius Malfoy, and Severus Snape. Snape had no forewarning of the attack, and kept his trust in Sirius, that the Fidelius Charm would not fail. The rest of the story is well known to all in the wizarding world.
Voldemort attacked, killing Lily and James. The boy, however, remained alive, no damage done, save a lightening bolt scar on his forehead. Voldemort vanished.
Severus was not so lucky. Lucius blamed him for failure to protect their lord. The Cruciatus was cast, and left on for nearly half an hour. Then, looking down at the raw and bleeding man, Malfoy cast a memory charm, stronger than Obliviate. Severus fell, and all was dark.
Dumbledore rescued Harry, and sent him with Hagrid to the Dursleys. Then, he had some business to take care of. Finding Severus unaware of the attack, his son, or anything regarding the past two years of his life, Dumbledore took him to Hogwarts, took care of his wounds, and told him a story. A story of how Severus and Lily had been friends, but they had fought, and Severus had turned to the Dark Side for comfort. He hated James for stealing his flower, and hated Harry for being James's son. Then, two years ago, he had begun teaching at Hogwarts.
Then, all was left alone. Severus began to teach Potions at Hogwarts, under the protection of Dumbledore. He remained there for years, and when rumors of Voldemort returning to power surfaced, he began a double-life, cozying up to his "old friends". Again, yet, to his mind, for the first time.
Remeus Lupin, the other surviving member of the group of friends, gave his word under oath to Dumbledore not to reveal the truth behind the Potters to anyone, including Harry, if they should ever meet, and Snape. Dumbledore gave no word to as why he was being so secretive, and vaguely responded "It's necessary." when questioned. Remeus got rather mad when Sirius Black was placed in Azkaban, but was reassured by Dumbledore that in the long run it would be better than saying the truth.
So, for years, things went on.
Then, Harry Potter, the Golden Boy, favorite of everyone came to school. Severus remembered what Dumbledore had told him, about Lily, and James stealing her away from him with his conceited appearance and money. This boy was an exact replica of James, and for that, Harry was hated. Not to mention that he always got preferential treatment from everyone else. All the teachers, students, were all in awe of this little first year. Hell, he didn't even remember what he had done in order to gain such praise. Meanwhile, Severus slaved away, spying for Dumbledore, taking the unbearable pain of the Cruciatus, and got no recognition.
The years continued on, and every year, Harry managed to save someone from Voldemort, or something like that. It made Severus sick, the boy wasn't even a fully trained wizard yet.
And so, time passed. Until one summer, then everything changed.
It was after Harry's fifth year. He was still fifteen. Things were terrible. Every passing night was a reminder of his godfather Sirius's death. Each day was filled with hard work, slaving away from the Dursleys. They were treating him worse than ever, and several times Uncle Vernon had only barely stopped himself from hitting the boy, remembering at the last second the reminder that had been given to him at the beginning of the summer.
He had received some owls from his friends, who were all apparently having a good time. Hermione was on vacation in France, again, and Ron was busy with his flying. (He continued practicing, as he truly wanted to be the best Keeper possible next year).
One correspondence that Harry was painfully missing was Sirius's. Normally, Harry would have received at least some letters, but not now.
So it was on one such summer day, as Harry lay in his room, trying to get some rest. He was having difficulties sleeping through the night, and his Uncle Vernon had constantly had to pound on his door at 3 a.m. in order to stop the screaming. He had come in even once or twice, waken Harry up, and promised pound him upside the head if there were to be any more interruptions in his precious sleep. Harry pondered. There had to be some way to get a good nights sleep without using magic.
Suddenly it came to him. "I'll make some Dreamless Sleep Potion!" Harry muttered aloud. Technically, it wouldn't be wand-magic, and thus illegal. Plus, the potion would be pretty easy, considering that they had studied it the previous year in class. Not that that made it any easier for Harry, who could honestly say that his Potions ability were slightly better than Neville Longbottom's, but, not by that much.
Actually, when he thought about it, this was the first time that Harry had actually willingly wanted to make a potion. Perhaps his avoidance of the subject was not due to his ability (or lack thereof) but instead of his hated Potions Master, Severus Snape.
The greasy, hook-nosed former Death Eater had a particular loathing when it came to Harry, and thus made it very difficult to concentrate on Potion-making instead of the fear of being tormented for any slight error.
The irony of course, being that this should have helped him make his potions, being so alert. But the paranoia, always looking over his shoulder drove him crazy. So it was that in the middle of the night, instead of trying to sleep, Harry began his potion brewing. He managed to keep his ingredients as well as cauldron in his room this year, and his family was actually allowing him to keep his trunk in his room. It made it much easier to study, and get his homework done.
Finding the correct potion in his book was easy. The Dreamless Sleep provided by it would be a relief, but there were a few side-effects and warnings that couldn't help but scare Harry. For one, the potion was addictive, and could lead to insanity, as well as short term effects of nausea, dizziness, and, if brewed incorrectly, death.
Still, Harry was convinced. He began to brew, and found it unexpectedly easier than he had thought. Things just started to click in his mind. Which ingredients did what, why, and how they should be added were quickly memorized and kept in his mind. Harry was tired though, and couldn't really acknowledge or analyze any of this information.
The potion only took about 5 hours to make, given the conditions Harry was under, such as the lack of sleep, and magic-free fire that was hard to manage, but it needed to be cooled over the next twelve. So, it was around four in the morning when Harry finally stood up. He turned on a light, keeping it dimmed. All he needed right now was for Uncle Vernon to come in and see the simmering green liquid in the vials for something very bad to happen.
Harry stood up and saw himself in the mirror. Gods, he looked horrible. His hair was dirty, and very slimy to touch, from his head being bent over the potion for so long. His skin was pale, and he looked thin. Actually, if he scowled, he sorta reminded himself of a certain Potions Master.
"I almost feel sorry for the bastard," Harry thought, smirking at himself in the mirror, "if he has to wake up to this every morning."
Taking out some spare parchment and quills, Harry began to reply to a letter from Ron, that had been asking about him and how he was doing. Although Ron would never admit it, Harry could tell there was a trace of concern in the letters. The Weasley's were spending the summer at Grimmauld Place, and apparently Sirius's mothers portrait kept mentioning her son's death, saying it was a shame that someone so foolhardy and such a traitor to the purebloods could be a Black.
This made Ron worry about how Harry was taking it, especially since he was so cut off from everyone. So, dutifully, Harry wrote a letter.
"Come here, girl." he said softly to Hedwig, who was perched on his windowsill. "Go take this to Ron, will you?" She hooted softly, and allowed the letter to be tied onto her talon.
She sped off into the distance, her white silhouette finally merging with the cloudy sky. Harry heard the phone ring downstairs, closed his door, and settled back on his bed.
Then, he heard footsteps rushing towards the door. Quickly, he made a mad rush towards the vials of potion, carefully putting them in place underneath the loose floorboards. With only a millisecond to spare, Harry was back on the bed, staring at the ceiling.
"GET UP, YOU FREAK!" Uncle Vernon was livid, his purple face turning maroon, and his muscles were tense as he grabbed Harry by the arm. "Guess who was on the phone?" He said, sounding snarky, as he twisted the young wizards shoulder hard enough for it to crack loudly.
"I don't know. Let go!" Harry said, trying to turn away from both the pain and the fear of what to come.
"The neighbors. Apparently, they saw an owl flying out of the window, with what looked to be mail attached to its leg!"
Hedwig! Harry began to realize what made his uncle so mad. Uncle Vernon hated magic, and everything to do with it. He was constantly worried that someone would find out about Harry's "abnormality" and judge him on it.
"That owl is not to go out at all anymore, or I'll wring its neck and yours. I managed to convince the neighbors that you were taking care of a wounded bird, and it probably had escaped, but they'll be watching carefully. You are not to leave this room anymore, and just to make sure, I'm locking you in!"
The large man was true to his word. That very day, he began by putting fitted padlocks on Harry's door, and replacing the bars on his windows. The old cat flap was in use once again, for food to be pushed through. And, as before, Harry was let out twice a day to go to the bathroom and shower. And, in this way, Harry passed many days.
He woke up early one morning, by a tapping on his windows. A big gold barn owl was there, with a roll of parchment sealed with the Hogwarts crest. He opened the window as far as he could with the bars, and the owl was just barely able to squeeze its leg through, offering Harry the thick paper.
Once Harry had it, the owl flew off again. Watching it retreat over the neighbor who had started his imprisonment's house, he was suddenly worried. What if they saw again. Surely they wouldn't believe Vernon's story for a second time, would they?
But, soon enough, he turned his mind to the roll in front of him. Hogwarts didn't normally send their owls this early. Also, besides the dark red wax was the Ministry of Magic's.
Harry's heart fluttered. These must be his OWL's. Finally, the results. Not that he really remembered anything from the tests. He expected, quite frankly, to fail them all.
He got a total of 8 OWL's, which was pretty good, although no where near the 12 that he was sure Hermione had gotten. He was also eligible for advanced classes in Transfiguration, Charms, DADA, Herbology, and surprisingly Potions. The other classes he had would be dropped from his schedule, though he could take an extra class if he wanted too. Definitely not Divination, Harry thought to himself with a bit of a smirk.
Divination was sincerely the worst class he'd ever had, including all the classes from his Muggle schools. The whole load was rubbish, from the wacked up teacher, Professor Trelawny, to the lessons, which mainly involved Harry's death, Harry and a lot of pain, and, well, that was about it, really.
"Maybe I'll take Hagrid's class, if I can," Harry thought. It would give him a chance to spend more time with the half-giant teacher, who was a good friend of his. And, despite many peoples objections to the animals studied, they usually were pretty interesting. Except the flobberworms, that is.
A few days passed by. Then, on a morning similar to the one where Harry received his OWL's, he was awakened once again by postage. Waking up, Harry reflexively reached for his glasses on the bedside table. Putting them on, he looked around the room, and got up to go to the window. But instead, he felt his vision blur, and he could barely stand up. "Is there something wrong with my glasses?" he asked himself, taking them off. Then, he blinked. He could see fine. Odd. Oh well. Harry turned his attention to the window, where Pig was fluttering around excitedly. Why another letter from Ron so soon? Normally there was at least a week or two between them. After a few moments contemplating this, Harry suddenly remembered. It was his birthday.
He was sixteen! How had he forgotten last night? Normally he liked to stay up to midnight on the eve of his birthday and watch his clock turn. But last night, he was asleep. He had forgotten his own birthday. The Dreamless Sleep Potion worked very well. He turned to the window. Now there were three owls out there. Along with Pig was a large tawny owl, and then a very stately black raven.
Harry quickly squeezed open the window, Pig managed to get through, package and all, but Harry had to cut the presents from the other owls and let them fly away. Hedwig still hadn't returned, and it had been almost a week and a half. He assumed she'd stayed at Ron's, but now, he missed her. Pig could take his response back to the Weasley's, but he now had no way to communicate with anyone else.
Pushing these thoughts to the back of his mind, Harry concentrated on opening the presents, promising he wouldn't start thinking of Sirius again. It seemed that every little moment he was happy, he thought of Sirius and was overcome by the grief again. Harry wondered if he would ever be truly happy again. "Will I be able to ever form a Patronus?" he thought with a sarcastic smirk.
Anyway, back to the presents. Harry unwrapped the present from Ron. Inside was loads of candy and wizarding sweets, everything from Bernie Botts Every Flavored Beans (Edible Edition, for those with Weak Stomachs!) as the package proclaimed, to heaps of Chocolate Frogs. There was a message along with the mass of sugar.
Harry,
Hope your summers going okay. Don't worry about the Muggles too much, what do they know? Open the Chocolate Frogs first, the guy who sold me them promised that there was a certain wizard inside the card. Mum's been talking to Dumbledore about letting you come here again, but the situation doesn't look all too good. I've told her to tell him that any situation with the Dursleys would be way worse than you'd be here, but don't get your hopes up, mate.
Happy Birthday!
Ron.
There was also a note attached, from Fred and George, who had apparently sent it while visiting their family.
To our much beloved private investor-
Undoubtedly you've heard of our success in the business of pranks and gags, much due to your generous contribution. We thank you very much for your support, and, as a show of this tremendous gratitude, we are putting together a care package of our new prototypes and some old favorites. Expect said package soon, and remember, if you do like the merchandise, continue to send money.
Yours gratefully,
Gred and Forge
Harry smiled. Then, rereading Ron's note, looked at the frogs uncertainly, and figured what did he have to lose. He was curious about who the wizard inside would be. So, unwrapping the foil, he grabbed the frog, taking out the card inside the package.
He was greeted by his own face, staring at him, scar displayed prominently on his forehead. The picture was recent, one of him in his Quidditch robes, flying, and arm stretching for the Snitch. Harry smiled and gave a bit of a cheer when he saw that the picture-version of himself caught the winged orb. It was probably one of the pictures that Colin had taken, Harry thought. The Muggle-born was obsessed with cameras and pictures. And Harry. The two, given Harry's like for privacy didn't work out together very well sometimes.
Harry was rather upset by the card. It once again reminded him that he was to be essential to the Wizarding world, its savior, if you could call it that. But then again, he smirked as he thought of Malfoy, his arch nemesis (other than Voldemort, that is) biting into a candy and seeing his face, scowling up against him. Harry only wished the picture had been of a Slytherin match, and Malfoy could see himself losing in the background. He allowed himself a bit of a chuckle at this, then sobered up.
Saving the candy for later, it was time to unwrap the next present. This was one that the large, unfamiliar owl had brought. He undid the string, and the brown packaging paper fell away. Inside was a small wooden chest. As soon as Harry picked it up, it started to grow. It expanded until it reached about the size of a small suitcase, then stopped. Harry clicked the latches and opened it up. There were glass vials, packets of powders, and flasks of liquid inside, all in custom made indentions on the sides of the box. There was a note, too. Picking it up, Harry could easily identify Hermione's neat and flowing script. It said-
Dear Harry,
Thanks for your last letter. Congratulations on the OWL scores! I can't believe you made it in Potions. Snape must've inhaled some Opinion Changing Potion before he graded yours. I'm glad that you've decided to start doing your homework, too. If you start practicing your potions now, then there'll be less chance for him to pick on you this year. If you are taking Advanced Potions, that is. If you do, then you'll be in my class. I got 12 OWL's, although I didn't do nearly as well at Astronomy as I wanted. That was to be expected though.
Your present is a Home Potions Kit. It includes many standard ingredients, as well as some rarer ones. I've included a recipe for non-addictive sleep potion, that may come in handy for you. I found the kit at a local shop here. I've been learning a lot. The wizarding culture in France is fascinating!
Well, Happy Birthday!
Love from,
Hermione
Harry smiled. Trust his brainy friend to get him a gift that had to do with homework. But still, that non-addictive potion might come in handy when he ran out of his current supply. The rest he'd been getting lately was worth any side effect that it caused.
He decided to send Hermione a long and appreciative thank you note. Then, he turned to the last piece of mail received, the one that the raven had delivered. Unlike the others, it wasn't a package, rather an envelope. He couldn't tell the sender from the handwriting on the envelope, which was just addressed to "Mr. H. Potter".
Picking it up, his fingers could sense an electric tingle that was definitely magical. Turning it over, he could see there was a wax seal on the back, of two entwined snakes and a drop of something between their heads, but he couldn't recognize it. Although if you looked at it from a certain angle, the burgundy wax made the droplet look like blood, which was, in Harry's opinion, a rather bad sign.
He flicked open the envelope, but there was nothing inside. Rather, a vapor started to come out, and as Harry inhaled it, he began to feel rather nauseous. He felt lighter, though, as if some burden that he'd had on so long that he'd forgotten about it had been lifted. He had to lay down, before he could stop his eyes from seeing double. He sat up.
"What was that?" He thought. It couldn't have been anything from anyone wishing him harm, because the wards of his blood relatives and also because of the protection Dumbledore had set up, but he was still uneasy. He stood up, and looked in the mirror. He didn't look any different than normal.
Wondering what the fumes could have been, Harry decided upon writing a letter to Dumbledore. If anyone could explain what had happened, it would be the Headmaster of Hogwarts. But, then, considering the events of last year, Harry realized that he was still pretty mad at the old wizard, for keeping so much hidden from him. But who else did he have to write to?
Not Ron. Ron would be too inquisitive, as would Hermione. And despite how much he trusted his best friends, he couldn't help but want to keep them out of this. If it was dark magic, then it could only be best if as few people as many knew about it.
Normally, he'd write to Sirius about this sort of thing. But, because of Harry's own stupidity, Sirius was dead. Dead, and never coming back. Remembering this, Harry fought to keep his pain inside of him. The closest thing he had to a father, and it was his fault that he had died. The veil.
Shaking his head, Harry snapped out of the trance. "Stay in touch with the moment," he repeated in his mind. It had become his mantra whenever he felt like succumbing to tears, and had kept him from sobbing like a child more than once.
But who to write to, then? He thought of the Order, and figured Remeus would probably be the best bet. He was intelligent, but quiet, and Harry could probably trust him to both know the answer and to keep it a secret. So taking out a sheet of parchment and a quill, Harry began to write the letter.
It basically stated what happened, then asked for advice. Harry then called for Pig. Since the werewolf was staying at Grimmauld place along with Ron, Harry trusted it could deliver both his thank you to Ron, and the letter to Remeus. By this time, it was dark outside, and Harry thought it safe to send Pig out. No one could or would be able to see him.
"Boy!" Aunt Petunia's shrill voice sounded at the door. It must be time for his nightly bathroom trip. Harry came to the door, and was let out. He walked down the stairs and down the hall, his aunt following him, and then returning to the kitchen. From there, she could tell when the door was opened, give him some supper, and return him to his locked room.
In the bright light of the bathroom, Harry could see more clearly in the mirror. He took a good look at his reflection, and then did a double take. His mind went blank. He had his customary face and glasses, but his hair must have been three inches longer than it had been only a few hours ago in his room. Not only was it longer, but it was also staying down, something that Harry's hair never did.
It didn't look bad, actually. "So this is what I'd look like if I didn't have my dad's hair." Harry muttered. Good thing it was dark in the halls, or Aunt Petunia would have definitely noticed. But what could have made it grow so much?
It was probably just accidental magic, like he used to do. Maybe he hadn't preformed a spell in such a long time that his pent up ability had to release. It wouldn't be the first time it had gone out through his hair.
Or, it could be a side effect of his potions. He'd have to read some of his texts on it. Harry smirked at that last thought. He sounded way too much like Hermione than he was comfortable with. He did need to do some research, though.
Leaving the room, Harry stood in the hallway, waiting for his aunt to come. When she did, she shoved some stale bread and a few pieces of browning lettuce at him, then watched him go up to his room. When he was in there and the door closed, she carefully redid the three padlocks, two bolts, and chain.
On the inside, Harry quickly devoured his "meal" and helped himself to some more of the candy that Ron had sent. Then, he pried up the loose floorboard, and took out one of the three remaining vials. Downing the potion in a gulp, Harry fell into a peaceful sleep.
