A/N: This fic has been edited for various reasons. For more detail, view the first chapter.

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Return Of The Nightmare

On the thirty-first of July, Albus Dumbledore sat in his office staring at Harry's latest letter, all of which had been delivered to him or the entire Order – whichever suited him, apparently. He had noticed a gradual… change in Harry's writing during the last few weeks, and couldn't suppress his worry. He had known Sirius' death would be hard on him; their conversation in his office afterwards had proven as much, but Albus had hoped that maybe, just maybe his relatives would be able to help him through it. After all, they'd brought him up, so it only seemed natural that they would know him best and therefore know how to help him.

But it seemed that the man's death had hit him harder than he'd thought, and was now causing the boy to go loopy. Sometimes he could compare him to Luna Lovegood, although unlike most people, Albus believed – no, knew – that she spoke the truth about her nargles and whatnot. He'd seen some himself, and that was before he went slightly senile!

He sighed and sent a patronus off. It would seem someone would have to check up on Harry, and he knew just who would fit the job. He grinned suddenly. This could be the perfect set-up to get those two to get along! Maybe he'd get to witness a bit of gay snogging… oh yeah.

Severus Snape was pissed. No, he wasn't drunk. He was pissed, as in bloody annoyed. The old man had sent him a patronus message to meet him in his office, and what does he find? The headmaster trying to – no, demanding him to – check up on the insufferable Potter brat. Why should he care if he's gone loopy? Good riddance. Yes, it was his fault he was stupid, but who cares? He's a bastard!

But the old coot had given him no choice. He would have to visit the bane of his existence. Oh well, at least he'd get to insult him. Maybe the boy would even yell at him! That was when it got particularly enjoyable.

I fucking hate Snivellus, thought Harry as he stomped up the stairs at Privet Drive. Yesterday, he'd been downstairs, eating breakfast as politely, quickly, and madly as he could, when he'd realised he hadn't scanned the entire house for curses and the like. So, after smacking himself on the head with a wallop mallet, he had done so. What he'd discovered over burnt toast and a rasher of bacon had stolen his appetite.

There, in the hall, right outside the cupboard that had once been his room, was a picture frame with disillusioned runes carved into the back. He remembered the frame was a wedding present from one of his mother's friends, although none of the Dursleys had remembered the man's name when he'd overheard them discussing it. The magical signature on the runes and charm, however, told Harry that it was a greasy git with a large hooked nose and an ugly face. You guessed it – Snivellus Snape.

He hadn't taken runes, so he'd asked Hermione to let him borrow all the books on it she had that would help him translate it. This was what he had done today, and boy was he pissed.

The basic summary of the runes' effects was that all of the Dursleys were manipulated to believe that they and their children were superior to everything else – especially magicals – and that Lily Potter and James were even more inferior. More so than they usually would have thought, anyway. That, combined with a compulsion to mistreat magicals, those fond of Lily, or her offspring, had resulted in his hell of a home life.

Harry had wondered what his relatives were really like, but given the age of the picture frame, they were too far gone to be reverted to their normal selves. So he would likely never know.

And so, Harry, now back up in his room, was angrily brooding about how one Snivellus Snape had completely ruined his life, starting by getting his lovely parents killed off.

That son of a bitch.

The knock on the front door came a few hours later, and he grinned at the sound of Vernon yelling about freaks and other such nonsense. Then he heard robes billowing through the hallway, and quickly donned his crazy mask.

Vernon Dursley was not a happy Dobby. I mean walrus. I- I mean man!

That… freak, that blasted nephew of his, had been going completely loopy! Unacceptable! Completely and utterly unacceptable. It was completely unDursleyish, and Vernon Dursley swore by the Dursleyish ways. It was why he was so big, and strong, and handsome.

Petunia – bless her poor soul – also swore by the Dursleyish ways. Perfectly normal for her to want a proper life, really, when her sister was such a hideous freak. Red hair of the devil, green eyes of demon spawn. Vile. And her filthy freak son had inherited the freak eyes, and his freak father's everything else (well, probably; Vernon hadn't seen underneath the freak's clothing since he was too young to bathe himself).

But anyway, that freak nephew of his had just suddenly up and whacked himself with a wallop mallet during breakfast! And then, if that weren't bad enough, the wallop mallet disappeared into thin air, and he spaced out! It was completely against the Dursleyish ways to have an imagination, and Vernon felt a sudden urge to wring the brat's neck. Before he could do so, however, the boy had turned slightly green and had rushed off into the hall.

Vernon had ignored him for a moment afterwards settling for yelling "Fine, leave your breakfast, you ungrateful sod!" But then the boy had come back into view, holding one of their baby Dudders' picture frames and waving his hand at it whilst muttering freakish nonsense! The nerve! And then, when Vernon had gone to smack him over the head with his own wallop mallet, he'd put the picture frame back, sighed, and buggered off upstairs!

Angry, since Vernon was too large and strong to run after the freak, he threw the wallop mallet at the boy's head. It collided with the wall behind him, however, and the freak didn't even notice. This enraged Vernon further, causing him to eat his own shoe.

After a few hours of shoe munching, Vernon heard the doorbell ring. Then he realised he was incredibly late for work, panicked, and barked at the freak at the door before barging past him into the car. Screw the freak's safety, Vernon Dursley was late for work!

Severus Snape smirked at the sight of the cat flap and locks on the Gryffindor brat's room. All his handiwork, of course. He wasn't stupid enough to think the curses on the picture frame were enough for the brat to get beatings, or maybe even get raped, but he couldn't help but hope. He deserved it, after all. He was as arrogant as his father, even as a baby.

Unlocking the door, the potions master stepped through into the room and sneered at the sight as part of his act. Potter was sitting at his desk, facing away from him and seemingly staring out the window. Nothing seemed insane so far; probably just a ploy for attention on the brat's part.

"Potter," he spat, crossing his arms, "I have been sent here by the headmaster to calm his worries that you have gone insane. Now kindly turn around so I can prove to him that you are still nothing but an attention-seeking dunderhead."

Silence. Complete silence. Potter did nothing, just stared out of the window.

"Mars is bright tonight," Potter stated matter-of-factly in a light, lofty tone he had never been heard using before.

Severus blinked in confusion. That was very much the sort of thing a madman would say. For one, usually only centaurs care about how bright Mars is, and secondly… it wasn't even lunch time yet! It had to be an act. Yes, an act. "Potter, quit whining and turn around."

"Where's Moony?" Potter asked, still facing the window.

"In the sky, you idiot, now turn around."

"You mean he's dead?" Potter said, turning around finally. His wide eyes seemed distant, but filling with tears. "Did you kill him?"

Severus sneered, growing impatient. "Potter, everyone with a brain knows the moon never lived, hence can never die."

"But you killed him."

He wiped his face with his hand impatiently. Albus had said to bring him to the infirmary should he show signs of being mad, and so far there had been no proof of sanity anywhere. He'd been told not to do it, but what did he care?

Not bothering with a wand – after all, who needs one to get past Potter's non-existent defences? – he entered the boy's mind.

Or so he thought. The first thing he saw was the giant face of a clown surrounded by cackling bunnies with devil tails. A large panther was doing ballet whilst singing 'Weasley Is Our King', and… eurgh, he really did not need to see that!

Withdrawing from his mind, he took in the sight of the Potter brat barely paying attention to him while humming 'London Bridge Is Falling Down'. Everything seemed to point to madness. Maybe Albus was right? Maybe the brat really had lost his mind? He shivered at the thought of classes with a mad Potter.

Sighing, he pulled out the portkey to the hospital wing Albus had made him. There was no way he could get out of this now. He was going to have to take the Potter brat to Hogwarts early. "Grab your belongings, Potter. We're travelling by portkey."

"I already have, sir," Potter said from behind him, making him jump. It seemed that while he was trying to find the portkey, Potter had sorted himself out and moved so he was breathing down his neck.

Sneering, Severus held out the portkey. Seconds later, they felt a tug, and they were whisked away.

Albus Dumbledore slumped in defeat in front of the potions master before him. So it was true, Harry really was insane. He felt as though he should blame himself for inadvertently causing Sirius' death, hence causing this, hence why he was, indeed, currently blaming himself.

"How insane was he?" he asked, part of him not wanting to know.

"Very, it would seem," he heard the dry tone of Severus Snape answer. "The weird kind of insane. He said that Mars was bright 'tonight' at mid-day and claimed that I'd killed the moon or some such nonsense."

"I must go see him," Albus said to himself, heading towards the fireplace.

From across the room, he heard Severus snort. "Good luck getting anything out of the brat."

Purposefully ignoring the man, Albus climbed into the fireplace and dropped a pinch of floo powder. "Hogwarts, Hospital Wing," he exclaimed, before being whisked away on admittedly nauseous short trip downstairs.

Doing his best not to stumble when he arrived, Albus scanned the room. There, on his usual bed, sat Harry. He looked amused as he stared into space, and the headmaster briefly considered legilimency before remembering what had happened when Severus tried. Something in there had deeply disturbed the man, and not for Harry's sake, either.

"Harry?" he asked as he slowly approached the bed, worried he wouldn't be able to get Harry back to normal. However, upon hearing his voice, the boy's head snapped towards him with an unreadable expression on his face. He seemed to evaluate him for a moment before he searched the room with his eyes, and then turned back to Albus with an amused glint.

"Sir," he replied, showing his usual respect for some god unknown reason. Really, J.K, why is Harry so bloody respectful? Ah yes, abuse… "Tell me, how big of an achievement is it to make Snape jump?"

"That's Professor Snape, Harry," Albus scolded gently. Well, he doesn't sound very nutters, he thought as he silently noted the suppressed sneer on the boy's face as he was told off. "As for your question, well, I don't believe anyone has made him jump before, except perhaps the Marauders."

Harry grinned triumphantly. "I wouldn't be surprised, sir. The look on his face was priceless."

The headmaster sat on the edge of the bed next to Harry's as he examined the boy. He looked quite sane to him, although he may just be going through a lucid moment. Moreover, it would seem that at some point in the last few hours he'd somehow surprised Severus enough to make him jump. Even he hadn't managed that. But what was going on?

"Severus informed me that you were insane, Harry," he stated, not quite knowing what he was looking for.

The boy cocked his head to the side, still looking highly amused. "What sort of insane?"

"He seemed to believe that you were the 'weird' kind of insane."

He grinned again, before nodding. "Good." His eyes then glazed over, and Albus feared he was going to shift into insanity again. He didn't know if he could bear it. But then he went back to normal and twitched his finger towards the door and bed for some reason. Upon seeing my questioning gaze, he grinned and said "Detection charms on the bed and doors so that one Snivellus Snape knows whenever someone opens said doors or leaves said bed, sir."

Albus blinked in surprise. "Why would Severus do that, Harry? And how do you know that?" he paused, then exclaimed "And when in Merlin's name did you learn wandless magic?" Even he couldn't manage that most of the time! But then again, Harry was an extraordinary wizard.

Harry, lip twitching in amusement, was now waving his hands, imitating pushing something downwards. "Alright, keep it down, keep it down…" he said before making a strange gesture with one of those hands.

"Privacy wards," he said upon seeing Albus' questioning gaze. "As for your questions, sir, that all begins with when Hermione sent me a book on occlumency this summer."

"You mean you don't have any?" Albus exclaimed.

"Nope, and they taught me a lot more than old Snivelly did, sir," he replied, shaking his head. "Basically, by actually succeeding in occlumency, I entered my mindscape – trashed, by the way, mainly due to your humble spy, I assume – and found bindings on my magic. I released them, along with my abilities of mage sense and those of a metamorphmagus, and followed a weird string from it to old snake-face."

Albus had been feeling a grin slowly trying to work its way onto his face until that last part. At that point, the headmaster grew sad. So his favourite student had found the soul piece in his scar. He now knew he had to die, or at least assumed it. He would no longer have a chance to experience childhood. Perhaps he should have looked harder for a solution, perhaps-

"He was nude and wanking for some creepy reason, and seemed to be drinking my magic. I figured it was what caused my visions and stuff, realised it was feeding off my magic, and then fought it out of my head. It's completely gone now, sir."

Albus stared at his student with wide eyes. In one brief adventure into his mindscape, Harry had done what he had been unable to for years! "You got rid of it, Harry?" he exclaimed happily. "Thank heavens! Why didn't I think of that?"

The boy in bed blinked at him. Then glared at him accusingly. "You knew?"

The man in question smiled sadly. "As you may have inferred, I couldn't find a solution. I figured it better for you to live not knowing than live feeling dirty."

"Meh, I suppose you're right, sir," Harry said, grimacing at the reminder of the feel of Voldie's magic. "Anyway, the magic bindings made my brain work slower, more impulsive and such. So now I could actually focus properly, I started working on things like legilimency, those two fancy abilities, the animagus transformation-"

"Did you manage it?" Albus heard himself interrupt before he could stop himself.

Harry grinned. "Maybe, maybe not," he said, raising an eyebrow mockingly, forcing his old headmaster to fight hard to not squirm excitedly at the unofficial challenge. "Anyway, I also worked on my wandless magic, hence," he gestured towards the doors, "my ability to cancel out your potion master's handiwork. And, on the matter of young Snivelly, I want to have some words with you about him, sir."

Albus frowned. What could have occurred for Harry to suddenly hate the teacher even more? He'd been hoping they'd get together and have wild gay monkey sex. "Go on," he encouraged nonetheless.

"Now, I have a list of complaints against him, and you will not interrupt, do you understand me?" he asked, pointing a finger at him accusingly. "Firstly, you were obviously well aware of his beliefs at school, and yet you did nothing to encourage him to side with you. You just let him get away with being a bigot; he was allowed free reign to bully, and the Marauders got slaps on the wrists. Then, the bastard offered Voldie what he heard of the prophesy, which led to him going after my parents. He didn't stop to think. Nope, he just went along with it, even though it obviously meant the death of at least one innocent child. Then he had the nerve to go to you and his master and ask for you to protect my mother. Not dad, not me, my mother. He didn't care about us, even though mum obviously cared about us. Just as long as he got his precious fuck-toy. Don't protest; that's exactly what she would have been. I've seen how his mind works.

"But before that happened, do you know what he did? He caused my mother and Petunia to fall apart completely by giving Petunia a cursed picture frame as her wedding present. Yes, their relationship had been strained at best, but they tolerated each other. Then the wedding present came, and BOOM, no more civil words from old Petty to Lily.

"This picture frame then caused my life at the Dursleys to be much worse than it should have been. I don't know what they were like before, but I'll bet you that if Snivellus hadn't done that, I would probably have had a bedroom before my first Hogwarts letter!"

Albus was starting to get the feeling he'd been dumb as a door for the past decade.

"When you employed him at Hogwarts, he not only didn't put any effort into teaching, but he bullied anyone not in Slytherin – especially the muggleborns! Then I come along, and no, I'm not the child of his childhood friend; I'm just the son of his worst enemy.

"You know that block on my magic? He put it on me. Snivellus blocked roughly 85% of my magical power, and as a side-effect, made me less intelligent than I should be and more impulsive. But you know what makes me want to kill him the most?

"He literally doomed Sirius! I told him I'd had a vision where Sirius was in danger, but did he tell the Order straight away? Nooo, can't do that! Have to give him a chance to die first, along with me! I know he delayed telling you, professor, because by the time you got there it had been hours since I told him, and Sirius told me you came straight away! And why did I come to the Ministry in the first place? To save Sirius, and because I was too impulsive to think it through properly or listen to Hermione. What caused me to be so impulsive? SNIVELLUS, THAT'S WHO! YOUR 'PET' DEATH EATER INDIRECTLY MURDERED MY GODFATHER – MY LAST CHANCE AT A LOVING HOME-LIFE!" he finished fighting off tears.

Upon seeing Albus' pale face, Harry seemed to attempt to regain his composure. "I don't know why you think he's spying for you, sir, but I have more than enough evidence here to oppose that idea. I don't care what you say; I'm going to make that bastard's life hell before I have him arrested. And believe me, I will. He's escaped Azkaban long enough. And I will personally make sure he ends up in Sirius' old cell, because while Snivellus - who was a murdering bastard - was spared, Sirius – innocent, my godfather and a good man – was tortured for twelve years. Twelve years! And you know what? I blame him for that, as well! As a Death Eater, he would have known Wormtail was the real traitor."

There was silence for a moment before Albus broke it with a question. "Harry, what are you planning on doing to Severus?"

Harry leered at him suspiciously for a moment before telling him. "I was going to act insane and prank the hell out of him."

Silence filled the room again as Albus considered his options. Now that he thought about it, Severus' actions were not those of a reformed Death Eater. He'd ignored the way he treated students for a long time, believing Severus was merely acting that way so that Voldemort would suspect him less when he returned. Now, though…

But should he allow Harry to go through with this? Should he do what he was meant to, and hand Severus over to the DMLE? He glanced at Harry's determined expression and mentally sighed. The poor boy had had enough bad luck in his life. What was a little deserved pranking as revenge on a man who'd been behind most of the bad things that had happened in his life?

"I understand what you are saying, Harry," Albus finally admitted with a sigh. "It would seem I was wrong again, and I am sorry for what that man has caused you. As headmaster of this school, I grant you secret permission to prank Severus Snape. As headmaster of this school, I also announce that any and all detentions given to you in relation to Severus Snape – whether they be given to you by him or because of something to do with him – shall be served with myself, should I determine your actions good cause for a detention. If they aren't, I will cancel the detention. From now on, all points given and deducted by Severus Snape shall be reviewed by the Deputy Headmistress and Professor Flitwick before the hourglasses are affected."

The two sat in silence for a while, pondering different things. Harry suppressing his tears of rage at Snivellus and grief for Sirius caused by his rant, while Albus was wondering how he could have made such a massive mistake. It was then that he remembered one particular line of Harry's long rant, and his eyes snapped to Harry.

"Harry, might I ask what you meant when you said you might have had a room of your own before your first Hogwarts letter?" he asked, a feeling of dread growing in his stomach.

Harry stared at him in disbelief. "You mean you didn't know?"

This did nothing for the dread. "Know what, Harry?"

"Well, my first Hogwarts letter was addressed to the cupboard under the stairs, so I figured you knew…"

Deep down, Albus knew what this meant, but he refused to believe it. Unable to suppress the dread much longer, he spoke up, voice nearly trembling. "Why was it addressed there, Harry?"

"Well, that was my bedroom until Petunia and Vernon saw the letter and figured you were spying on them, sir."

Albus' head drooped in shame as he realised just how many mistakes he had made in relation to the Marauders. "How bad?" he croaked.

"Eh?"

"How bad was it, Harry?" Albus repeated, lifting his head up again and gazing into Harry's eyes with his weary ones. "How far did they go? Did they insult you? Hit you? Beat you? …Touch you?"

The headmaster watched as Harry's head drooped as he considered whether to lie or not. It was instinct, after all, to lie about such things. But then Harry sighed in resignation, and he knew he would get at least part-truths. "Yes, yes, yes, and no," he said softly, fiddling with his sheets. "Aunt Petunia nearly did when she went to a party and someone slipped something into her drink. She was looking at me weirdly, and was reaching out with a weird look on her face when Uncle Vernon caught her at it and asked her why she'd want to touch a freak. I was nine."

Albus felt relief wash through him that it hadn't truly gone that far, and found himself walking over to perch next to Harry on his bed, placing a hand on the boy's shoulder in hopes to offer comfort. "I'm sorry, Harry," Albus told him, squeezing the shoulder he'd grasped slightly. Harry had no one else to do so for him right now. Except for maybe Lupin… Lupin! Didn't Remus' parents teach him occlumency to help hide his condition from prying eyes?

Feeling as if he had achieved something for once that morning, Albus let his eyes twinkle once more and turned his gaze back to his student. "Harry, if you wish, I know one other person to whom you can be open to about your life and project. Do not worry, you already know him-"

"Who?" Harry interrupted, before blushing and looking down again. "Sorry sir," he mumbled.

"Not to worry, Harry," the Chief Warlock replied, gently patting the boy on his back. "His name is Remus Lupin."

Harry blinked and looked up at his headmaster incredulously. "He can do occlumency?"

"Indeed. I would have asked him to teach you last year, but Dolores would never have allowed a werewolf through the floo. That, and I feared he might go to easy on you… and I hoped that perhaps if Severus saw proof you weren't spoiled he would be a little easier on you," he shook his head sadly. 'And I hoped you and Severus would get together,' he thought to himself but did not voice it. "Yet another mistake of mine, Harry. Do forgive an old man."

"I don't blame you sir," Harry muttered, shaking his head before looking up suddenly with a crazy grin on his face. "So, have you met the muffin man?"