Chapter eight
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Harry hadn't been able to sleep properly for the last couple of weeks, not since he'd had that conversation with Snape. He was preoccupied all the time, and had trouble paying attention in class. Even Ginny, who was now chaser on the Gryffindor team, had asked him after Quidditch Practise why he was having such trouble concentrating.
If he had been avoiding mirrors before, he now took every opportunity he got to look at his own reflection. What was wrong with him? He was beginning to look like somebody else; he was beginning to look like – he could hardly bring himself to think the name – he was beginning to look like... Snape.
Had someone cast a spell on him to make him look like the person he hated most? Malfoy perhaps? He wouldn't put it past Snape himself either, but it wasn't really his style. Yes, that had to be it: Malfoy had cast a spell on him. Maybe Snape had helped Malfoy, maybe he'd taught him some dark magic; it had to be dark magic, a spell like that... He'd done similar things before; he'd taught Draco that Serpensortia curse in second year...
Harry was upset now, really upset. He hadn't spoken to Professor Dumbledore since he'd gone berserk in his office at the end of last term (he still hadn't really forgiven him for not speaking to him all last year) but now he felt that he had to talk to him all the same. The strange dreams had continued too, the ones where he looked into his mirror and saw Snape's face instead of his own; that had to be part of the curse as well.
Harry went to the huge stone gargoyle at the entrance to Dumbledore's office. What sweet could it be this time? It turned out he didn't have to guess, because suddenly the gargoyle slid aside and Dumbledore came out.
'Ah, hello, Harry,' he said, looking at him earnestly. His eyes did not twinkle. 'I was wondering when you'd come to see me.'
Harry was surprised to see Dumbledore so serious – was he annoyed about Harry's behaviour at the end of last year, perhaps? After all, those silver instruments he'd thrashed might have been rather valuable and maybe even difficult to get hold of. 'H-hello,' Harry stammered.
'Why don't you wait for me inside, Harry,' Dumbledore said, 'I'll only be a minute.'
Harry went up the moving stairs and into the round office. It was exactly as he remembered it, only the silver instruments he had smashed the last time were now missing. Fawkes, the Phoenix, was sitting in his usual place and he could see the Pensieve standing on Dumbledore's desk. He wouldn't even go near it, Harry decided, remembering his conversation with Snape.
But what was that – it looked like his own face was floating there, on the surface of the mysterious liquid in the Pensieve. In spite of his decision, he went closer to it. He looked into it, at the face he saw floating there. Now he could see that it wasn't him after all, but a young Severus Snape. Harry was shocked that he, obviously, looked so much like Snape that he mistook Snape for himself.
Now he saw the young Snape talking in the Pensieve. He looked down into it (he definitely wouldn't go down into the Pensieve, but a quick look wouldn't hurt). Snape was here, in Dumbledore's office, talking to the latter.
'But why me?' Snape said to Dumbledore. 'Anyone could do it. Surely it would be much simpler – and safer – to send one of the Potters' friends there...'
'No, Severus,' Harry could hear Dumbledore's voice echoing in the room. He edged closer to get a better view of Dumbledore, and then it happened – he plunged down into the Pensieve once again. Well, now that he was here, he might as well stay and find out what this was all about. Snape had, after all, mentioned his parents' name.
'You must trust me, Dumbledore went on. 'You are the only person capable of doing this.'
'What about Lupin?' Snape asked, looking slightly paler than usual.
'He is not suitable for the job...' Dumbledore sighed. 'I promise you, Severus, that if there was any other way, I wouldn't make you do this. But as it is, I hope you will agree...'
'As you wish.' Snape took out a phial from his pocket and gave it to Dumbledore, who opened it and added a short, black hair. The potion inside turned red. Dumbledore gave it back to Snape, who eyed it disgustedly, and then took a large gulp of it. This had to be Polyjuice Potion, Harry realised, wondering who Snape was going to turn into. He watched Snape change the same way they had in their second year, and turn into ... a young man, slightly taller than before, with black, untidy hair ... James Potter!
Dumbledore looked at him, apprehensively. 'Don't forget, Severus,' he said, 'that you must not, under any circumstances whatsoever, reveal your true identity.'
Before he had time to think, there was a swirl and Harry realised this was another memory. He was still in Dumbledore's office, but it wasn't the same day; that memory had taken place at night, while this was in the morning; the sun was shining brightly... Professor Lupin was there, looking upset about something.
'You are right, Remus,' Dumbledore said to Lupin. 'I did send Severus Snape to the Potters' house last night.' He looked at Lupin benignly.
'Snape – but why? I mean, why him? Surely you know that he is probably a Death Eater? How can you trust him? And how can you send him to James and Lily's house, disguised as James?'
'It was the only way, Remus. I'd have sent you, but you know you can't use Polyjuice Potion because of your condition.' 'But why send Snape? Is it really safe?' Lupin had asked. 'I trust Severus Snape,' said Dumbledore simply. 'He was the one best suited to do the job. Trust me, Remus.'
'But what was he doing there?'
'The less you know, the better, Remus. That way no-one else finds out. I'll tell you all about it one day...'
'But Lily was there, in the house!' Lupin exclaimed.
Dumbledore looked slightly taken aback, but composed himself quickly. 'Severus did not mention this to me last night ... perhaps she was asleep and never saw him.'
'Oh, well... I suppose you're right.'
This was strange, Harry thought. Why on Earth had Dumbledore sent Snape to his parents' house disguised as his father? And what had he done there? When had this happened? His parents were obviously married, but had he, Harry, been born yet? Lupin didn't seem to trust Snape, so that meant that he didn't yet know that he was working for the Order of the Phoenix; it had to be some time before the fall of Voldemort, then.
What had happened in Godric's Hollow, and why had Dumbledore put these memories into his Pensieve right now? Harry ran a hand through his greasy hair, but stopped in mid-air. He tried to think, desperately. Snape – James Potter – Polyjuice Potion. Could it be possible? Madam Pomfrey had asked him about it... But surely, the effects of Polyjuice Potion wore off in an hour if you didn't take more? Harry was gasping for breath. No... NO! This was just too terrible!
How did you get out of these pensieves, Harry wondered. He wanted to get out of here, now – and suddenly he landed on the floor in Dumbledore's office, a sharp pain in his knee where it had hit the stone surface. Harry was out of breath. This was so awful. Dumbledore still wasn't back, and Harry was glad; he couldn't face him right now. He just wanted to get out of here fast. He left the office at a run, the Gargoyle swinging aside to let him out.
Author's note: Again, thanks a lot for the reviews; I really appreciate them! You, like Harry, will get answers to some of your questions in the following chapters, so please, keep reading and reviewing!
Changes
Answers
Harry hadn't been able to sleep properly for the last couple of weeks, not since he'd had that conversation with Snape. He was preoccupied all the time, and had trouble paying attention in class. Even Ginny, who was now chaser on the Gryffindor team, had asked him after Quidditch Practise why he was having such trouble concentrating.
If he had been avoiding mirrors before, he now took every opportunity he got to look at his own reflection. What was wrong with him? He was beginning to look like somebody else; he was beginning to look like – he could hardly bring himself to think the name – he was beginning to look like... Snape.
Had someone cast a spell on him to make him look like the person he hated most? Malfoy perhaps? He wouldn't put it past Snape himself either, but it wasn't really his style. Yes, that had to be it: Malfoy had cast a spell on him. Maybe Snape had helped Malfoy, maybe he'd taught him some dark magic; it had to be dark magic, a spell like that... He'd done similar things before; he'd taught Draco that Serpensortia curse in second year...
Harry was upset now, really upset. He hadn't spoken to Professor Dumbledore since he'd gone berserk in his office at the end of last term (he still hadn't really forgiven him for not speaking to him all last year) but now he felt that he had to talk to him all the same. The strange dreams had continued too, the ones where he looked into his mirror and saw Snape's face instead of his own; that had to be part of the curse as well.
Harry went to the huge stone gargoyle at the entrance to Dumbledore's office. What sweet could it be this time? It turned out he didn't have to guess, because suddenly the gargoyle slid aside and Dumbledore came out.
'Ah, hello, Harry,' he said, looking at him earnestly. His eyes did not twinkle. 'I was wondering when you'd come to see me.'
Harry was surprised to see Dumbledore so serious – was he annoyed about Harry's behaviour at the end of last year, perhaps? After all, those silver instruments he'd thrashed might have been rather valuable and maybe even difficult to get hold of. 'H-hello,' Harry stammered.
'Why don't you wait for me inside, Harry,' Dumbledore said, 'I'll only be a minute.'
Harry went up the moving stairs and into the round office. It was exactly as he remembered it, only the silver instruments he had smashed the last time were now missing. Fawkes, the Phoenix, was sitting in his usual place and he could see the Pensieve standing on Dumbledore's desk. He wouldn't even go near it, Harry decided, remembering his conversation with Snape.
But what was that – it looked like his own face was floating there, on the surface of the mysterious liquid in the Pensieve. In spite of his decision, he went closer to it. He looked into it, at the face he saw floating there. Now he could see that it wasn't him after all, but a young Severus Snape. Harry was shocked that he, obviously, looked so much like Snape that he mistook Snape for himself.
Now he saw the young Snape talking in the Pensieve. He looked down into it (he definitely wouldn't go down into the Pensieve, but a quick look wouldn't hurt). Snape was here, in Dumbledore's office, talking to the latter.
'But why me?' Snape said to Dumbledore. 'Anyone could do it. Surely it would be much simpler – and safer – to send one of the Potters' friends there...'
'No, Severus,' Harry could hear Dumbledore's voice echoing in the room. He edged closer to get a better view of Dumbledore, and then it happened – he plunged down into the Pensieve once again. Well, now that he was here, he might as well stay and find out what this was all about. Snape had, after all, mentioned his parents' name.
'You must trust me, Dumbledore went on. 'You are the only person capable of doing this.'
'What about Lupin?' Snape asked, looking slightly paler than usual.
'He is not suitable for the job...' Dumbledore sighed. 'I promise you, Severus, that if there was any other way, I wouldn't make you do this. But as it is, I hope you will agree...'
'As you wish.' Snape took out a phial from his pocket and gave it to Dumbledore, who opened it and added a short, black hair. The potion inside turned red. Dumbledore gave it back to Snape, who eyed it disgustedly, and then took a large gulp of it. This had to be Polyjuice Potion, Harry realised, wondering who Snape was going to turn into. He watched Snape change the same way they had in their second year, and turn into ... a young man, slightly taller than before, with black, untidy hair ... James Potter!
Dumbledore looked at him, apprehensively. 'Don't forget, Severus,' he said, 'that you must not, under any circumstances whatsoever, reveal your true identity.'
Before he had time to think, there was a swirl and Harry realised this was another memory. He was still in Dumbledore's office, but it wasn't the same day; that memory had taken place at night, while this was in the morning; the sun was shining brightly... Professor Lupin was there, looking upset about something.
'You are right, Remus,' Dumbledore said to Lupin. 'I did send Severus Snape to the Potters' house last night.' He looked at Lupin benignly.
'Snape – but why? I mean, why him? Surely you know that he is probably a Death Eater? How can you trust him? And how can you send him to James and Lily's house, disguised as James?'
'It was the only way, Remus. I'd have sent you, but you know you can't use Polyjuice Potion because of your condition.' 'But why send Snape? Is it really safe?' Lupin had asked. 'I trust Severus Snape,' said Dumbledore simply. 'He was the one best suited to do the job. Trust me, Remus.'
'But what was he doing there?'
'The less you know, the better, Remus. That way no-one else finds out. I'll tell you all about it one day...'
'But Lily was there, in the house!' Lupin exclaimed.
Dumbledore looked slightly taken aback, but composed himself quickly. 'Severus did not mention this to me last night ... perhaps she was asleep and never saw him.'
'Oh, well... I suppose you're right.'
This was strange, Harry thought. Why on Earth had Dumbledore sent Snape to his parents' house disguised as his father? And what had he done there? When had this happened? His parents were obviously married, but had he, Harry, been born yet? Lupin didn't seem to trust Snape, so that meant that he didn't yet know that he was working for the Order of the Phoenix; it had to be some time before the fall of Voldemort, then.
What had happened in Godric's Hollow, and why had Dumbledore put these memories into his Pensieve right now? Harry ran a hand through his greasy hair, but stopped in mid-air. He tried to think, desperately. Snape – James Potter – Polyjuice Potion. Could it be possible? Madam Pomfrey had asked him about it... But surely, the effects of Polyjuice Potion wore off in an hour if you didn't take more? Harry was gasping for breath. No... NO! This was just too terrible!
How did you get out of these pensieves, Harry wondered. He wanted to get out of here, now – and suddenly he landed on the floor in Dumbledore's office, a sharp pain in his knee where it had hit the stone surface. Harry was out of breath. This was so awful. Dumbledore still wasn't back, and Harry was glad; he couldn't face him right now. He just wanted to get out of here fast. He left the office at a run, the Gargoyle swinging aside to let him out.
Author's note: Again, thanks a lot for the reviews; I really appreciate them! You, like Harry, will get answers to some of your questions in the following chapters, so please, keep reading and reviewing!