It's funny how in dreams everything is totally random but it still seems to make perfect sense. For example, it was an everyday occurrence for Dudley and Piers Polkis to be at Hogwarts, going Harry hunting with Draco Malfoy and Blaise Zabini.
It was also perfectly normal that Gryffindor tower looked exactly like Mrs Figg's front room, but instead of being filled with cats there were hundreds of blast-ended skrewts scuttling around, with blasts coming from their back ends every few minutes. No one seemed to care though because obviously they were used to this sort of thing happening.
Ron and Hermione were arguing like an old married couple, which was not so out of place but what they were arguing about was. Apparently it was common knowledge that Snape was Harry's father and it no one seemed to care.
Ron was arguing that Snape shouldn't have given his own son a detention because Ron would not be happy if his mum had done that to him- his mum apparently was the new DADA teacher. While Hermione countered that Snape couldn't act any differently towards Harry as that would be favouritism and Snape never showed favouritism to anyone.
It was around this point that Harry started to get chased by Dudley and his gang and it was when he had veered round the corner in a corridor on the again forbidden third floor that the dream changed.
Dramatically.
He was now in a stone room, lit up sparingly by magically hanging torches giving off a slightly greenish light. The only other thing that in the room was a throne set up on top of a dais and of course the man sitting on it who was none other than Voldemort himself.
Harry slowly approached the dais, climbed up the stone steps and knelt daintily at the Dark Lords feet, making sure to keep his eyes locked firmly on the ground. Voldemort placed a hand on top of Harry's head and then slowly dragged a fingernail along his jaw line. Harry shivered expectantly.
'You have done well young Harry, as I knew you would. Because of your hard work I will reward you with one request, what will it be?'
'My Lord, if you allow it, I would like for you to give me Bellatrix Lestrange to do with as I wish.'
'She is a very loyal follower, Harry. I assume you don't want to wine and dine her which leads me to believe that she will be harmed in some way, crucio maybe. I need a very good excuse before I will hand her over to you.'
'I only ask for her as penance for what she did to my Godfather. She may be loyal but she is not very useful as she is mad my Lord, as I'm sure you know. She could not even get the prophesy for you, what use has she been except to land herself in Azkaban and unable to help return you to your body?'
Voldemort smiled slightly. 'You are right Harry. You cannot trust someone who no longer has their sanity. I will give her to you then on the condition that you will—
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The pain was unbearable. It was like something metal was being drilled into his brain. His legs felt like they were on fire, his stomach was revolting, his arms were shaking uncontrollably and hardly felt like arms at all. In fact there wasn't a single part of his body that did not hurt.
Harry started to crawl out his bed but only ended up falling off it with a big thump.
'Ow!'
He lay there for a few seconds, trying to get his bearings and muttering nonsensical things under his breath. He finally pushed himself to his hands and knees and draped the top half of his body over the bed. From this point he was able to see the clock on the bedside table.
1:57 was blinking at him smugly. Only ten hours to go until the time when the pain might just stop.
Shit.
Bollocks.
Harry climbed further onto his bed until he was lying across its width and tried not moving at all. It helped … a little.
An hour and a half later and Harry was now lying lengthwise on the bed in a much more comfortable position. Hogwarts: An Interesting History lay abandoned on the bed next to him. He had started reading it again which helped for a while as there was a very interesting bit about the ghosts of Hogwarts and the poltergeist before Peeves. However soon his arms ached so badly that he could no longer hold the book up and had to throw the book away from him hastily before his arms collapsed.
Now his arms were still throbbing badly and he decided to just concentrate on his breathing. In. Out. In. Out. It helped … a little.
An hour after that Harry was being violently sick over the edge of his bed. He thought he could see half digested pieces of Turkey. That red thing may once have been a slice of tomato.
He heaved again. By now it was just dry retching as there was nothing else to come out but still his stomach kept on revolting. Harry thought fleetingly about the potion. If he was sicking that back up again then this would have all been a waste. He certainly felt like his stomach might revolt from the taste alone only minutes after he took the vile substance.
He finally lay back on his bed, spent. He swiped his pyjama sleeve across his mouth in an attempt to rid it of the horrible aftertaste. His whole body was shaking uncontrollably and he could feel that he was burning up.
He couldn't remember much for a while after that and he wondered if he had managed to get back to sleep after all, before deciding that it was more likely that he had passed out from the pain.
The time was now 5:15. It was blinking back and forth at Harry fuzzily. He tried to find his glasses but sometime during the night he had obviously knocked them off the bedside table with all his tossing and turning and he could not find them now, nor be bothered to try.
He was feeling a little better, even felt slightly hungry. However he had a very uncomfortable feeling all around him, bordering on pain. It was if he could now actually feel his bones changing shape. It was decidedly freaky and Harry wished he could fall back unconscious just so that he didn't have to feel it.
Snape had told him to embrace the pain, go with it and all that bullshit. At this moment Harry wanted nothing more than to show Snape what pain felt like by casting the cruciatus curse at him repeatedly …
A flash came to him …
A fingernail being dragged across his jaw line …
Shivering at the cold touch …
Then it was gone.
Harry slept. Fitfully.
At 7.15 Harry found himself crumpled at the bottom of the shower, the freezing cold water raining down on him. He had no memory of how he had got here but he had to admit that it helped … a lot.
----------
This was how Snape found him twenty minutes later.
Harry saw his black shadow seconds before hearing the drawling voice.
'What are you doing?'
'It's nice.' Harry replied sleepily. He was now shivering uncontrollably from the coldness but he didn't care. 'I feel so hot. This is nice.'
'You're going to freeze to death you idiot child.' And with that Snape turned off the water. Harry groaned loudly.
Paying no attention Snape started lifting Harry to his feet. He was halfway there when he suddenly dropped him again and Harry slumped back to the bottom of the tub.
Harry was about to ask what that was all about when he heard some unmistakable laughter coming from above. Snape was laughing at him and Harry could not for the life of him figure out what was so funny.
Maybe it was because he was lying soaking wet in his pyjamas at the bottom of the shower, but Harry really couldn't see what was even remotely funny about that.
Before he could analyse it further he was again being lifted out of the shower and bundled up in a large white towel.
Nice to see you have something that isn't black … or green.' Harry mumbled into the warmth of the towel.
Snape didn't reply.
'I feel a lot better now.' He carried on rather sleepily.
'Yes, the worst is probably over although you will probably be feeling the side effects for a while.'
'I can't find my glasses.' Harry said, changing the subject without even realising it.
Snape frowned at him. 'Are you sure you still need them?' He asked. 'The bad eyesight was from James. Neither me or Lily needed glasses.'
'Oh. Did you wear contact lenses then?'
Snape stared at Harry as if he was mad. He felt Harry's forehead with the back of his hand. 'You're still running a fever. Back to bed with you.'
'But I don't want to go back to bed.' Harry whined pitifully.
Snape ignored him and cast a hasty drying charm on his pyjamas before dropping him none to gently onto the bed.
'You're so mean. I want to stay up a bit longer.'
The door slamming told Harry all he needed to know.
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Harry squinted down at his right foot, trying to judge whether it seemed further away. The least this change could do for him is to make him a little bit taller. It was this thought and the thought that he would no longer need glasses were the only things stopping him from thinking about big noses and sallow skin.
He slowly got to his feet, wobbling slightly as his muscles kept on spasming. He knew he had hardly any energy and his legs were already warning him that they could collapse at any moment.
Nevertheless he wobbled his way towards the wardrobe and forced his hand to reach out and open the door, revealing a long mirror on the back of it. Harry raised his eyes to his reflection, dreading what he was about to see.
He thought he was prepared. He thought he had gone through every scenario there could have been for this situation. Nothing could prepare him for what he was staring at. His breath hitched, his stomach clenched and a single tear rolled down his cheek.
The spasms, the aches and pains, they all disappeared to be replaced by shortness of breath so severe Harry found himself starting to hyperventilate again. His brain swam and he tilted on his feet as the room started to spin. He found his legs giving out from under him and let himself collapse to the floor, leaning his head against the cool mirror.
He started to cry.
Great wracking sobs overtook him until his whole body was shaking with the force of them.
It didn't take Snape very long to enter the room.
Harry didn't even know of Snape's presence for a good few minutes and when he did realise he was there he didn't acknowledge it.
'It's just a colour.' Snape said unsympathetically, knowing exactly what was vexing Harry so much.
Harry didn't answer the question directly. 'But it's James's features that should have changed. I-I don't understand. Lily is still my mum and this was the only thing I had of hers.'
Harry started trying to control his breathing.
'Your whole appearance was a fake, not just parts. You now have equal parts of myself and your mother and your own original look. Instead of being a James Potter look-alike.'
'But the eyes—'
'Green is a recessive colour. It is very unlikely that it would have been passed on. But you definitely have her cheek bones, her pallor, which I'm sure you're happy about, your hair even has auburn tints, it's not nearly as dark as mine.'
'Your nose.' Harry said despondently, only just realising it as he hadn't been able to tear his gaze from his eyes- his dark eyes.
Snape inclined his head with a look that said tough luck.
'Everyone would comment. "You have your mothers eyes." Mrs Weasley bought me dress robes that matched my eyes. People used to say that it was …' His breath hitched. 'My best feature.'
'If it helps any, you're taller.' Snape said and then he left Harry to his thoughts.
----------
An hour later and Harry was up and dressed, feeling at last a lot better. He still felt some uncomfortable twitching in his bones, the worst of which sometimes made his legs give out, but other than that the ordeal seemed to be over.
The dark blue shirt he chose was a little tight around the chest area but other than that it seemed to fit just as well as it did the day before. It was his trousers that were the problem. All of them were now a good few inches too short. His robes had the same problem but Harry figured that Snape would be able to fix it.
Holding his head up high he exited his room for the first time in at least twelve hours to find Snape sitting on his own in the lounge, reading a book.
'Where's Malfoy?' Harry asked, wanting to get the worst over and done with.
'He's gone home.' Snape said, still not looking up from his book.
'Home?'
'Yes. That's usually the house that a person lives in.'
'Yes I know what it means.' Harry said, gritting his teeth. 'I just didn't realise he was going.'
'If I didn't know better I'd think you were disappointed.'
'Yes well fortunately you know better. I just thought that after his shouting match with Lucius it was decided that he was staying.'
'No, Draco decided that but Lucius wasn't about to give up. He went straight to the dark Lord who agreed with Lucius that Draco shouldn't be with me and he personally sent him back to his mothers.'
'Oh.' Was all Harry said for a while. 'He didn't even get to see the results of his hard work.' He carried on in mock sadness.
'Oh I know.' Snape replied. 'You should have seen him kicking and screaming like a spoilt child, which I suppose is what he still is. You probably would have heard him if you weren't so delirious at the time.'
'Delirious? When was I delirious?'
'You probably don't remember asking if me or your mother used to wear contact lenses or complaining pitifully that you wanted to stay up a bit longer.'
'Um…no. Why would either of you need contact lenses?'
'Exactly.' Snape said with a smirk. It was quite amusing though to see you babbling on like that.'
'You always think I'm babbling on.' Harry said plopping himself down on the couch.
'Either that or crying copiously about the colour of your eyes.'
Harry's now dark eyes darkened even more. 'Just don't, okay?'
Snape nodded in acceptance. 'Would you like something to eat?'
'No.' Harry said, he looked a bit sick at the thought of it. 'My stomach still feels a bit queasy.'
Snape nodded again. 'Suit yourself, you know how to cook.'
Harry couldn't bring himself to agree with that sentence so just stayed silent.
He picked up Hogwarts: An Interesting History and continued reading the chapter about the portraits. He had got to a fairly amusing bit about a portrait that was finally torn down about 200 years ago called the Moaning Lisa. It had been annoying students with it's constant whining since the time of the founders and was finally removed by a second year girl with a talent for charms who burnt a hole in the wall so big that it was decided that they would build a passageway there to cover it up. Now there was a statue of a humpbacked witch in its place.
He was interrupted from his chuckling by Snape, who always seemed to be able to wipe any smile from his face.
'By the way, your friends have written to you.' Snape said.
Harry's smile actually widened until Snape continued. 'They want to see your new appearance.'
Harry was confused. 'Who are you talking about?' He asked.
'Two young men by the names of Martin Moon and Steven Lacey.'
'Oh.' Harry's heart sank.
'What, don't you want to go out with them?' Snape asked with a raised eyebrow.
'Well, I don't know. What do they want to do?'
'They mentioned something about a new club just outside Hogsmead called Invincible. It's supposed to be quite good for the youngsters. Although you wouldn't catch Gryffindors in there, I shouldn't think. It's not that type of club.'
'What type of club is it then?' Harry asked worriedly.
Snape just smiled smugly. 'It's a Slytherin type of club. You'll see what I mean.'
'I don't have to go.' Harry said firmly.
'Oh yes you do.' Snape replied. 'The Dark Lord wants you to befriend the Slytherins and become one of them. He will expect you to take part in their activities.'
Harry's heart plummeted. 'I feel even more sick.'
'Believe me, there are worse things.' Snape replied.
'Oh yeah, like what?'
'The Dark Lord wants to see you too.'
A/N: Sorry for the wait, I have just moved house and have been without Internet for a month- honest!