Previously:
A/N: Thank you so much to everyone who reviewed! I honestly was not expecting very many people to leave comments, but I think 6 reviews are a good start for a first timer, no? Here is thanks to my reviewers:
Veralidaine: thanks. I hope this fic measures up to the other ones you have read
Isvaria and DebsTheSlytherinSnapefan: Ha ha, I'm you appreciate the cliffhanger
nilpotter and animehpgirl: thanks
mervoparkite: Thanks for your awesome review! Is my story that transparent? You did hit a couple key points, although there are a few surprises in store concerning James, but you will have to wait to find out! As you will be able to tell from the first few lines, the best Snape reaction is not in response to the last line of chapter 2… I hope you enjoy this fic. It is so hard to be original when there are tons of other ones out there!
And here is a longer chapter. Now that I've started, it is so much easier to put more stuff into the chapters… On with the story!
Previously:
"Tell me now."
Here is your opportunity Albus. The headmaster thought to himself. Well, here goes nothing. Please hear me out before you murder me Severus.
"Well, Albus, I am waiting." Snape said putting on his best death glare.
"It is from your son, Severus."
HPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHP
Chapter Three: In which father and son completely freak out
"Albus this not a time for your jokes. Now tell me who wrote you that blasted letter!" Snape was, for lack of a better term, pissed off. He was beginning to wish he hadn't come up to the office. Telling the headmaster to shove off would have been his best option. Damn Albus' manipulative ways and twinkling eyes. All he wanted to do now was go back to his lovely non-secret holding dungeons and brew a forgetfulness potion so he would not remember this last quarter of an hour.
"Severus," Dumbledore said patiently, his eyes still twinkling. "I am being quite serious. This letter is from your son. He has a special –"
"Albus," Severus said calmly and rationally, "I DON'T HAVE A BLOODY SON!"
"Well of course not," Dumbledore said wisely. Snape breathed a sigh of relief. Finally the headmaster would give him a straight answer. "Your son doesn't have any current injuries. I think it is safe to assume that he is quite healthy and blood-free."
"ARGH!"
Dumbledore chuckled quietly to himself as his potions professor lost his composure. I can't wait to tell him who exactly his son is. Then he will truly loose it. Perhaps I should warn Poppy of my arrival to the hospital wing in advance…
"Albus, the time for your little jokes was over about ten minutes ago. Now PLEASE tell me who sent you the letter or your lemon drops are toast." Snape growled that last part so menacingly that Dumbledore couldn't help but give a shudder.
"Please believe me when I say that your son wrote this."
"Albus I don't think you understand. I have never truly been involved with a someone. In order for me to have a son, I would have had to have been, erm… intimate with a woman. That is something I would not be likely to forget. And as I know that that has never happened, there is no possible chance in nine hells that I could have a son!
Dumbledore listened as Snape ranted for a good five minutes before saying slowly as if addressing a small child. "Severus, you're acting like a three year old who has just had his lemon drops snatched away." Snape shut his mouth quickly with a disgusted look on his face. "Now I know this is difficult for you to digest, but please here me out. Stop it!" he exclaimed sternly, putting his hand up as Snape opened his mouth again with a snarl. "I can prove that it is your son to you. But that will have to wait. First, I think it's time to return your memories to their proper location."
All right Albus, I'll play your little game, but only to amuse you. As soon as I find out who the mysterious letter writer is, your lemon drops are… oh… how do those muggles say it? Oh right… your lemon drops are so going down. Ugh, what a vile saying. Snape threw his best I'm-a-death-eater-don't-mess-with-me glare (Glare # 33) at the headmaster before saying: "Fine Albus, you win for now. Let's examine these… memories of mine and then I will determine how real they are."
"Thank you Severus. I promise this will not take up too much of your time today. But there are quite a few memories needed to see in order to learn the whole story."
"Very well. Take all the time you need. It's not as if I'm going anywhere. Not unless the Dark Lord calls me." Snape muttered grumpily.
Dumbledore ignored the last statement, rising slowly from behind his desk. He crossed over to his bookcase and grasped a muggle book (whose title Snape did not recognize) and pulled it down so the spine was resting on the shelf. A panel in the wall opened next to the bookcase. The headmaster looked over at Snape who was raising his eyebrows questioningly. "An old muggle concept to hide treasures from thieves. Many times the simplest tricks are overlooked in search of complicated procedure. No one would ever think to use a muggle trick in a magical office."
Humming merrily, he reached into the wall a pulled out a simple wooden box. Enlarging it and muttering something Snape could not hear, he opened it slowly. Inside were about twenty vials of silvery liquid. Memories. They were labeled numerically.
"Let's see here. Why don't we begin with number one?" Dumbledore asked as he carefully withdrew it from the box. He retrieved his pensieve from the cabinet and set it on his desk. "Are you ready Severus?"
"What about this situation with Azkaban? If the Dark Lord really means to attack, should not the Order be alerted? A lot must be done to secure the prison."
"Azkaban must wait for a few hours. Right now, your memories need attending to. Are you ready?" the headmaster asked seriously.
Snape nodded curtly and Dumbledore poured the memory into the pensieve. "Well then," Dumbledore said, grasping his colleague's hand. "Let us take a deep plunge into your past." And with that, they dove in to the younger man's forgotten memories.
HPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHP
Harry winced as he stood up from his position in front of the garden. For the last three hours he had spent his time carefully weeding and attending to his aunt's garden. He did not really mind doing this; it took his mind from the recent events at the end of the Third Task. It was horrific enough that he kept witnessing Cedric Diggory's death over and over again during the night, he could not afford to dwell on it during the day as well. He was starting to loose weight from lack of eating.
He knew that Cedric's death was not his fault. No, that responsibility went to Wormtail and Voldemort. But he could not help but feel that he should have done something. His mind was filled with dozens of what-might-have-been situations. Ones where Cedric did not grab the cup with him, or where Harry was able to attack Wormtail before he had the chance to kill his friend. There was even one where Cedric his behind a gravestone while the entire scene took place. But Harry knew that most of these were just insulting Cedric's memory. He would not have cowered while Harry faced death.
Examining his day's work, Harry gave himself a mental pat on the back. The garden looked really good despite the intense heat of the past two weeks. It had been his project since his return home to keep the yard in mint condition. It was really therapeutic, concentrating on keeping something alive and in good health. Aunt Petunia had reluctantly given her own praise to his work, even if it was unintentional.
Harry stretched his arms high into the air, feeling something in his back pop into its original place. He massaged his neck, turning his head from side to side to get the blood pumping to his head. Trudging back to the house, he took his shoes off at the door so his aunt would not have an excuse to yell at him.
"Aunt Petunia!" he called, unsure of where she was in the house. "I'm done in the yard for today! Is there anything else you need done?" he added this last part for good measure. There was no need to encourage the silent war between himself and the Dursleys. After all, Dumbledore had said at the end of term that a united group would pose a much stronger resistance to Voldemort than a divided one. Harry figured he might as well begin with his relatives. Hermione would be so proud of me, he thought wryly.
When he first began this endeavor, his relatives had obviously thought it was a trick to lure them into a false sense of security. Recently however, his aunt had begun to realize that he was being sincere and had not been as cold to him. His uncle still concluded that it was more 'freaky stuff' and left him alone for the most part. In other words, he was avoiding Harry like the plague. His cousin Dudley was never home, so Harry had no idea of what he thought of it all.
His aunt was not responding at the moment so Harry glanced out the kitchen window into the front yard. Sure enough the car was gone. She must have gone into town for something. Shrugging, he climbed the stairs to take a shower.
The cold water felt so good running down his back. It was ridiculously hot outside, but this was definitely cooling him off. It was one of those days where you just wanted to run through the sprinkler, no matter how you are. He scrubbed all the dirt off himself and turned off the water. Stepping carefully out of the shower so he would not slip and fall, he grabbed a towel and dried himself off. He quickly glanced into the mirror to see that all the dirt was gone and did a double take.
Someone unrecognizable was staring out at him, eyes wide. Sure the mirror image had his green eyes, but besides that he looked totally different. He rubbed his eyes and looked back at his reflection. His normal James-Potter-look-alike self was once again in place. Unconsciously, Harry rubbed his scar. He must be hallucinating. Maybe he was suffering from heat exhaustion. He decided to lay down in his bed and work on some of his homework.
Let's see here, Harry thought, digging through his trunk. Flitwick, McGonagall, Snape, or the yet-to-be-doomed DADA professor? He pulled out his essay topics. Might as well get the most difficult one out of the way first. Snape's nasty potions essay first then. He shifted his stuff around until he found a couple feet of parchment and all of his potions texts. It wouldn't hurt him to do this as thoroughly as possible. He would try as hard as he could not to give Snape an opportunity to find something wrong with his essay.
He steadily worked through it, making sure that everything he wrote down was backed up textual evidence. He even created a rough outline so he would have a springboard for his writing. I wonder if this is what Hermione spends her summer doing, he thought, a smile coming to his face as he imagined his best friend poring over obscure texts to put every single bit of information she could into her essay.
Sooner than he expected he heard his aunt call him down for dinner. Are we having it early today? He glanced at his clock and his eyes widened in surprise. It was already 8 o'clock. He had been working on this essay for over four hours! It was actually really interesting now that he did not Snape looming over his shoulder, sneering at every move he made, whether is was correct or not. He had written all he could for now, but at least he only had a few more inches to go. Hermione would be so proud of me, he thought for the second time that day.
He rushed down the stairs. He did not want to be rude and keep his family waiting. They would probably begin dinner whether or not he was there, but who knows, perhaps they grew manners since yesterday. Nah.
He walked into the kitchen just as his aunt was putting the final dishes onto the table. Harry sat next to Dudley who was surprisingly on time, while his uncle seemed to be absent. Since Harry's arrival home, his cousin would often show up late to dinner; sometimes he would not even come at all. Harry looked at his cousin and studied him for the first time since last summer. Dudley had lost a lot of weight! He was even, dare he think it, starting to look toned. How has he done it?
"How has your day been Harry?" the question startled Harry and he was shocked to realize that it came from his cousin who was currently serving up some salad for himself.
"Erm…" Harry said. "Well, I guess it's been alright. I worked on your mum's garden and started an essay for school."
"Really?" Dudley asked, seeming genuinely interested. "What sort of essay?"
"Er," Harry said, unsure if he should answer the question, lest his aunt die of a heart attack that her baby Duddykins was asking about magic. He glanced over at her. Her eyes were fixed on her meal, but she wasn't saying anything yet.
"Eloquent these days, aren't you?" his cousin smirked. "They must not focus on speaking skill at your school."
"I didn't realize you knew was the word 'eloquent' meant Dudley." The words were out of Harry's mouth before he could stop them. What am I doing? We are actually having a normal conversation, witty banter even! This is not normal.
To his utter surprise, Dudley just smiled back, chuckling. "I've actually started paying attention in classes this year. I learn a lot of really cool stuff at school. Now, back to your essay..."
"Oh, well, um. It's for my potions class. We mix different ingredients together to make something."
"Like cooking? You're probably really good at it then with all the practice you got here."
"Actually, my teacher is kinda a jerk," Harry said, forgetting that he was talking to his cousin who supposedly hated magic. "He and my dad, er, didn't exactly get along. More like they annoyed the hell out of each other and my teacher sorta takes it out on me. It probably doesn't help that I look exactly like my dad. So he's always singling me out in glance and hovering over my shoulder. I've not done very well in his class."
"Oh, that's too bad. So what other subjects do you take?" at this moment, Uncle Vernon walked in the door, turning purple as he heard his son's question.
"WHAT IS THIS NONSENSE!" he yelled, charging over towards Harry.
"Nothing Pop," Dudley said calmly. "Just asking Harry about his school. Is something wrong?"
"WHAT HAVE YOU DONE TO MY SON YOU FREAK!" Uncle Vernon grabbed Harry by the collar of his shirt and lifted him up out of his seat.
"He hasn't done anything! We were just having a friendly conversation!" Dudley said frantically, trying to calm his father down.
Uncle Vernon dropped Harry who hit the floor with a bang. "You stay the hell away from my son, boy. If I hear another word of that freakishness," he spat the word out with venom. "you will be thrown out of this house and onto the street."
"Vernon," it was the first time his aunt has spoken all evening. "I don't think that is a wise idea."
"And why not? Ever since we took him in, he has been nothing but trouble to us! And now is corrupting our son into accepting that… that… freakishness as though it's normal! I will NOT stand for it! I have worked too hard to keep our son from becoming like that boy's bitch of a mother!"
"SHUT UP!" Harry shouted.
"Excuse me boy." His uncle said in a dangerously low voce. Harry could not believe he had put up with his uncle for fourteen year. His uncle was not frightening in the least anymore.
"You heard me uncle," he said in a sickeningly sweet voice. "I am sick of you constantly ragging on me and my DEAD parents! How dare you insult their memory! What the hell did they ever do to you? What did I ever do to deserve your treatment?"
"Don't you dare take that tone with me boy! I have had enough. You've corrupted my son and now my wife? Get out."
"Vernon," Aunt Petunia hissed.
"NO! GET OUT!"
"VERNON!" Aunt Petunia shouted. "What will the neighbors think? And worse… what will his kind do to us when they find out? You know they watch us. That's how they knew where he slept when he got that letter. Who knows what exactly they're capable of? I will not put our family in that kind of danger!"
Uncle Vernon drew a couple of deep breaths, his face still a nasty puce color. "Fine." He growled after a moment. "You can stay boy. But I am warning you. Anymore funny business," he paused, seemingly to collect himself. "I will throw you out of this house, consequences be damned! Now leave us in peace for a while."
"With pleasure!" with that, Harry stormed out of the house.
How dare he? How dare he say those things about his parents? He walked furiously towards the park, children scurrying out of his way as the 'deranged teenager' approached.
"Harry. HARRY! Wait up!" someone shouted from behind. Harry turned to see his cousin jogging towards him.
"What?" Harry snarled reaching towards his wand in his waistband. If Dudley tried anything, he would not know what hit him.
"I just –" he panted stopping in front of Harry. "I just wanted to apologize. For my dad, and well, for not sticking up for you back there."
"Why? Why are being so nice to me all of a sudden? I'm the freak, remember? The one no cares about. The one everyone laughs at or runs away from. The one you used to hunt and beat up before I went to Hogwarts."
"Look, I… I realized a lot of things this past year." Dudley took a deep breath. "I realized that the only reason I was so mean to you was to try and earn my dad's approval. And to try and forget that I was unnaturally overweight. Kids last year… well… they weren't exactly pleasant towards me. They called me fatso and would talk slowly towards me like I was stupid or something. So I worked. I worked hard to loose weight and to get better in school. Now the kids who used to make fun of me are actually my friends. We do stuff, we hang out. It's nice. And then I remembered how awful I've treated you since we were little. I felt terrible because I know now what it was like to be in a position where no one liked you. And I'm sorry for being such a relentless jerk to you in the past. I want to try and make it up to you. I don't care what my dad thinks, there is no excuse for his abominable behavior towards you. Can we call it truce?" he ended hopefully, sticking out his hand.
Harry stared at him. Never in a hundred years did he think he would be faced with this situation. When had his cousin grown so mature? Well, he could always use an ally in the Dursley's home so he grasped his cousin's hand and shook it, a smile crossing his face. "All right coz, I can take that deal. But aren't you worried about your dad. I mean he has serious anger management issues."
"He'll get over it eventually, it's not like he has a choice. He can't kick you me and my mom out."
"Your mom?" Harry asked incredulously.
"Ya," Dudley answered. "She stuck up for you back there, even if it seemed selfish. I've heard her talking to dad when you're not around, trying to get him to let up on you. I think she's on your side."
"Well, that is an unexpected turn. But a nice one. It feels good to know that not all my family hates my guts."
Dudley smirked. "I'll bet it does. Now tell me more about your school. I'm kinda interested to know what a magical school is like."
So Harry told him about his classes, and about the magical castle he had come to call home. He was just describing quidditch when Dudley glanced at his watched and groaned. "Ugh, it's almost 9:00. I gotta hit the gym tomorrow morning before work. We better head back."
"Ya, I still got that potions essay to finish up. I didn't even realize how dark it had gotten." They got up from the bench they had been sitting at. "Hey Dudley." He said, standing there looking at the ground. "Um. Thanks. You know. For sticking up for me back at the house. You did more than you know."
"Oh, um. You're welcome. Er. It was um. Nothing." Dudley finished lamely.
"Now who is the eloquent one," Harry smirked.
"Oh, what a touching moment," came a drawling male voice from behind the two cousins who whipped around at the disturbance. Five tall figures in black cloaks and white masks stood there. "Now don't make any sudden movements Potter, or your life ends tonight."
A/N: Ooooh another cliffie, this time for our poor hero! I figure that since it's summer, I will be able to update quite often. But once school starts up it will be less frequent. But who knows how quickly I will be able to finish this story
Remember, the pretty purple button in the bottom left corner is there for you to press it. Wouldn't want to disappoint it. Please Review!