Disclaimer: Anything you recognize from the Harry Potter books and/or movies is not mine.

A/N: I'm having to use a really old keyboard, and half the keys don't want to work unless I press them more than twice, so if there are a lot of grammar errors, please don't kill me. I'd appreciate it though if I make a lot, to tell me what's more noticeable and how bad it is. I'm going through this a lot to fix up the errors, but I'm sure there are a few that I've missed. I've spell-checked it a few times, but that doesn't keep all the errors I've done from being caught. Anyways. Thanks for the support!

Mirage Me This

By: xScenex

Chapter Three

Harry couldn't really comprehend what was going on, and he didn't really want to try and figure it out.

He'd tried holding his breath and counting to ten, he'd tried closing his eyes for so long and opening them, but everything around him stayed the same.

The pallid face of his would-be potions professor stared questionably at him, the dirty window behind him only allowed a dim, yellow light filter into the musty room. The smell of mothballs and dust filled his senses. He just couldn't understand anything anymore.

All he could really remember was being chased by his horrible cousin and his friends… he blocked out the rest. He knew what had happened to him afterwards, but he preferred to block that part out. It was too embarrassing, and too repulsive to recount.

But the pain in his body kept the remembrance on the edge of his mind. He shifted on the unmade, springy bed and winced slightly at the pain that shot up in his body from his lower parts. He'd be sore for days to come.

He chewed again on his bottom lip, worrying it between his teeth. What was he supposed to do now? He knew it wasn't a dream he was in. He knew that it wasn't some trick being played on him - he'd know if it was. He was able to sense Voldemort if he was close, or if he was happy about something.

His scar didn't hurt, so he knew that was out of the theory. But how could it possible?

It wasn't. That's just the thing.

He groaned and buried his face in his upturned palms. He didn't want to deal with anything at the moment. He was too dazed to mourn about all the previous happenings. Maybe he was just in shock. But he was beginning to feel as if the world was pressing down on him again, just like it had that previous school year, when he went to the Department of Mysteries, leading all his friends and the Order to follow…

Before he could think too far, he blocked that out as well. He wouldn't allow himself to remember that night at the Department. Not while he had more important issues at hand.

He wasn't sure how long he sat with his fingers gripping his hair, and his eyes shut tight against the world, but he eventually was pulled out of his thoughts when a silky voice interrupted them.

"What are you going to do now?"

He stared up, suddenly feeling exhausted. "I have no clue."

The other boy began pacing. It was odd seeing the version of his professor that he'd only ever seen in the pensive and the older mans thoughts in the flesh. Of course, the boy hadn't changed at all from what he'd seen before, so he figured that it wasn't much further away from what he'd seen in the memories. Maybe that had even passed.

The boy that was in front of him seemed completely different from his professor. Well, not completely. But he was definitely different. He seemed almost unsure half the time. He wasn't completely ill-tempered towards everyone, even if he was cold towards his parents, but there was still that sarcastic tone to his voice.

And if Harry hadn't known better, he would have thought he'd seen him blush a few times.

Harry watched, scrutinizing the other boy. He appeared to be about his age. His hair wasn't as greasy as it had been in the memories he'd seen - it must have been recently washed. It actually looked decent, he mused. And it had grown out slightly more.

As if feeling the examination of himself, Severus looked up and met his own eyes. To Harry's immense amusement, he quickly looked away. Maybe it was because of how he looked.

He must have looked out of place - bloody, bruised, and dressed completely opposite of most people.

Well, Severus dressed close enough to him. He wore faded jeans that were ripped and frayed at the bottom, and a dark grey t-shirt. But there were still differences, considering that Harry had numerous body piercings.

Harry adjusted his glasses and shifted once more on the bed. He was really uncomfortable, and even more so at the thought of being in a room alone with his potions professor.

"This is so weird," he voiced aloud.

"You're telling me," he heard Severus say, voice laced with sarcasm. "It's not every day I find a boy under my window. Especially one that no one else can see."

Harry scowled. "It's not every day that I find myself in my younger potions professor's bedroom. That's a bit awkward, don't you think?"

He didn't say anything, but he figured he got his point across. He shook his head. There was no use in getting annoyed.

"How do you think I can get home?" he demanded of the other boy, who had stopped in his pacing to stare at Harry with a heated gaze.

"And what makes you think I know the answer to that? I don't even know how you got here," he stated with annoyance.

"Of course."

Harry knew his questions were senseless, so he quit asking them. Instead, he decided to study his surroundings. The room was the same, as well, and he noted with small amusement that there were spots on the ceiling. Must have been from Fly-Zapping.

He sighed. It was all depressing, and he was getting tired; he thought that he could use a nap. "Do you mind if I sleep?" he asked quietly. He was at the point where he didn't care whether or not someone murdered him in his sleep. He didn't exactly know where he was, or how he got there, so to him, it was a lose or lose situation.

Severus seemed to hesitate for a moment. Harry was afraid that he'd say he did mind, but was relieved when he shook his head and gestured to the bed that Harry sat on.

"Go ahead and sleep there," was all he said.

Grateful, Harry smiled; albeit a bit awkwardly, before he kicked off his shoes and gingerly laid himself down on the springy bed. He didn't cover up, but he was warm enough without a blanket.

Closing his eyes, he soon drifted off into a dreamless sleep, hoping that everything was just a dream and when he woke up, he'd be back in his too-small bed at Privet Drive with Hedwig to greet him.

Harry was greatly disappointed when he woke to find himself still in the room of one Severus Snape. It was dark outside, and the distant sound of crickets could be heard from outside of the window.

He didn't want to sit up, so he just lay there, staring up at the shadowed ceiling. He couldn't hear anything in the house, and it was a bit unnerving.

He sat up and shivered. Maybe he should have put his shirt back on before going to sleep. He would have been a lot warmer, and the cold wouldn't have caused the dull ache in his back.

Gingerly, Harry poked at his sides, wondering if the bruises were still there. He didn't feel any pain against the pressure of his fingertips, so he assumed that whatever the younger Severus had used had worked.

He sighed. The thought was so weird - his potions professor was the same age as him! Harry couldn't think enough to make ends meet, and he couldn't remember anything that might have caused the disrupt to his life.

He just hoped that it wasn't Death Eaters pulling pranks on him. But if it had been, wouldn't they have tried to murder Harry while he slept?

Nope, it didn't make any sense. Severus' theory was the only thing that matched, and even that was ludicrous. Had he really gone back in time?

Harry slowly crawled across the bed sheets that were crumpled around his body. He didn't wince as a dull ache throbbed through his back, but it was enough to make his breathing hitch.

"Not completely healed, are you?"

The voice startled Harry, who was quickly alert. He had time to pull out his wand and jump into a defensive position before he looked around in the darkness and could vaguely make out a figure near the door.

"Don't do that," he hissed in anger, realizing that it was Severus.

The next response was dissatisfied. "I'll keep that in mind."

Harry fell out of his defensive position and landed with a soft thump on the edge of the bed, his feet planted firmly against the cool floor. He tucked his wand back into his pocket.

"What time is it?"

"It's past nine," he heard Severus say after a slight pause. "You missed dinner."

"S'okay," he said while running a hand through his tangled hair. "Wouldn't be a first."

"If you're hungry…" he began awkwardly.

Harry inwardly smiled. Wait until he saw Ron and Hermione again. They'd have a field day knowing how Snape used to be.

"It's fine, I can wait," he said to the other boy. "But I would like to use the bathroom, if you don't mind."

There was another pause, this one longer than the other as the other boy shifted. Harry couldn't see his face in the dark, but when he spoke next, there seemed to be a hint of embarassment in his voice.

"It's down the hall and to the left. It will be the first door you see."

"Got it," he said, standing up and quietly walked to the door. "First door on the left."

He opened the door, half expecting it to squeak loudly with protest but was surprised when it opened quietly and without any effort.

He peered around the hall, taking in the appearance of the place. It was darker in the hall than in Severus' room, so the dark walls were invisible to his vision.

He reached out, his fingers touching the peeling wallpaper and felt his way down the hall on the left side. It took a while to find the door, but it was a relief when he did. He couldn't stand the imposing darkness.

But inside the bathroom, it wasn't much better. The light-bulb was covered in so much dust and filth that the whole room was a dark yellow.

Harry sighed heavily. No wonder Snape liked the dark - he'd lived in it all his life.

He stared at the cracked mirror, his image shown violently split in the middle. His face looked paler than usual, and his hair wilder. He felt disgusting, and wanted very badly to take a shower and rid himself of the filth that covered his body.

The mere thought of that previous night's events made his stomach wrenched fiercely and he could feel the acrid taste of vomit in his mouth. An image of the boy who had straddled him appeared in his mind and he gagged. He turned quickly to where the toilet was and hunched over it just in time to rid himself of all contents in his stomach, and continued to dry-heave for a while after.

By the time he stopped, he was gasping and gagging, fighting back the urge to dry-heave even more. Once the taste was in his mouth, it continued to grip at him.

He wiped at his mouth with a shaky hand and closed his eyes. How could he go from completely content to avidly sick with disgust in mere seconds?

A knock came on the door.

Harry panicked for a second, thinking it might be the elder Snapes. But the voice that came after soothed his panic when he realized that it was just Severus. Somehow, the thought of him being the one instead left him feeling better. At least he wasn't completely alone.

He knew he should be bewildered with himself just thinking that, but he couldn't find it in his heart to. Maybe he'd be the one to understand him, if this was all real and not some set-up or dream.

The knock came again. Harry got unsteadily to his feet and went to the door. He opened it slowly, and met dark eyes.

"What's going on?" Severus asked with surprising demand.

Harry shook his head and attempted to speak, but all that came out was a soft rasp.

"You were sick," Severus stated. It wasn't a question.

Harry nodded feebly and wiped at his mouth again. His next words were guarded. "I couldn't help it."

Severus didn't respond and Harry was grateful. He looked away, staring at a spot on the floor. He felt awkward with the other boy there, seeing him so weak.

"It was that bad?"

Harry's head snapped up, and he stared heatedly at Severus. "You have no idea what I've been through," he nearly snarled, hardly taking into consideration that his former potions professor was trying to be comforting. Or as close to that as he could get.

Slightly taken aback, the other boy looked back darkly, his body now stiff. "Sorry to bother you, then."

Harry sighed heavily. "No, it's not you," he said quietly. He found it odd that he was nearly apologizing. He told himself it was just because this kid was the only one he could relate too until he was able to get home. "I'm just… I'd rather not talk about it."

He saw Severus nod slowly. He looked at the boy apologetically, "Do you mind if I take a shower?"

"Not at all," Severus said, pointing to the cabinet under the sink. "Towels are there, as well as anything else you may need. Try not to make too much noise - my… parents are sleeping upstairs."

"Thanks," Harry attempted a shaky smile. The other boy left without any other word, and Harry closed the door behind him. He rummaged quickly through the lower cabinet, finding a towel, washcloth, and various soap products that didn't look used.

He wasn't about to use second-hand products that have been only God knows where.

Harry avoided looking at his reflection in the mirror as he stripped down the rest of the way, ripped off his piercings, and took the bandages off around his torso. He noticed that his chest was no longer the previous purple-blue color, and was the usual pale.

At least the potions helped on that. On the other hand, the cut on his back still stung slightly. He averted his eyes from the mirror to make sure he couldn't see it. It would only be a reminder.

He turned the hot water on in the shower and hopped in quickly. The steaming water scolded his skin, but he welcomed it. He wanted to burn the shame from his body, along with the dried blood, medicine, and to his complete disgust, semen. He ignored the burning in his throat.

The boy who had done that to him would pay someday. He would make sure of it, just as much as he vowed to rid the world of Voldemort.

And that much hate was bound to leave something in its wake.

A/N: Please review for this. Now that I'm actually posting this story further along, I'm curious to know what others think. With fourty people on alert, and only four or five people reviewing, I'm really unsure of what to think - is it bad, or not?

Just curious - this isn't one of those demaning authors notes, telling people to review. I'm just curious to know how this story sounds. But either way, if someone likes it or not, I'm still writing and posting.

ALSO! If you're wondering about my other stories - the reason those aren't being updated is because this one here was already written a long while back. Not all of it is written, so when I finish posting what is written, I'm sure updates will be slower. My lifes busy, needless to say. Anyways, hoped you enjoyed.