A.N. Sorry for the huge delay in posting, I had no idea how to proceed with this story to really start making the story obviously different from canon. Anyways, I appreciate the 160+ views! Thanks so much!
"Potter!" Harry looked up to see Professor Snape limping towards him through the snow. "What is that you have there?"
"Er, Quidditch Through the Ages, Professor."
"Library books are not to be taken outside. Five points from Gryffindor. And another five for that jar of flames, Ms. Granger. You know full well that unsupervised magic is not allowed outside as well." Professor Snape limped away, carrying both Hermione's jar of flames and Harry's book. The minute he was out of sight, Ron and Harry exploded.
"Those weren't really rules!"
"He has no right to-"
"-greasy-haired bat-"
"-I mean, that old git couldn't-"
"-even to Slytherins!"
"-with a giant bag of troll dung!"
The two finished their stream of swears, and Hermione sighed, exasperated. "Professor Snape can deem acts of students worthy of praise or penalty, whether or not it is an actual rule, so he did have some right."
"Hermione! Whose side are you on?!" Ron yelled.
"Yours, of course! But if your argument is so flawed, Ronald, you-"
"Come off it!" Ron said. "Snape was taking his anger out on us." Hermione frowned.
"I wonder why he's limping," Harry said slowly.
"Dunno, but I hope it's hurting him." Ron fumed.
Later that night, Harry felt sick about the first Quidditch game of the season, and tried finding his book to take his mind off of it, but then he remembered Snape still had it. "I'm going to go try to get my book back from Professor Snape," he said to Ron, who was concentrating on a game of wizard's chess with Seamus. Ron grunted, and smirked as Seamus moved his king into a vulnerable position.
As Harry approached the staffroom, he heard hisses of pain. "Easy with the wrappings!" Harry heard Professor Snape say through the door. "That dog's mouth was swimming with who knows what kinds of magical bacteria, and the infection is already spreading through my nervous system."
Harry paused. That dog? Snape continued to address whoever was helping him. By the sound of the mumbled replies, it was probably Filch. "Have you applied the potion to the bandages yet? Good. This should be the last layer." Moments later, Harry heard footsteps. Horrified, he tried to move, but his feet were glued to the floor.
BANG! The door flew open, and Snape limped out. His eyes latched onto Harry, and his face became a mask of fury. "POTTER!" Harry's mouth moved but made no sound. "BACK TO YOUR COMMON ROOM! NOW!" As Harry bolted down the corridor, he heard Snape fuming loudly. "That boy will meet a terrible end, Filch. I assure you, his arrogance will be his downfall."
As Harry got back to his common room, he gasped for air, clutching a stitch in his side. "Ron!" Ron was busy with chess still.
"Hmm-what?" he said distractedly.
"Snape tried to get past Fluffy. His leg's all mangled from getting bitten by it." Harry said grimly. Hermione got up from a nearby armchair, rolling her eyes.
"Oh, please, Harry. Snape is a teacher. He wouldn't do something like that."
Harry rolled his eyes back. "Snape's an evil git, I wouldn't put it past him," he said grimly. "I bet he was trying to get to whatever Hagrid got from Gringotts." Hermione frowned.
"What do you mean?" Harry and Ron filled her in on the details. "Small, grubby parcel? Smaller than a fist?" Hermione said, thinking. "It could've been the Sorcerer's Stone."
"What's that?" Harry and Ron said in unison, and then laughed. Ron was always joking about his brothers' uncanny knack for saying things in unison.
Hermione sighed. "Honestly, don't the two of you read?" The boys shook their heads ardently. "Well, the Stone is one of the most important inventions in alchemical history. With the Stone, it is possible to turn any metal into gold. It also allows whoever possesses it to brew the Elixir of Life, a potion that grants the drinker eternal life for as long as they drink it."
Ron and Harry's eyes bulged. Eternal life and wealth? Of course that would be powerful enough to attract any powerful wizard. Especially Professor Snape. "Hermione, this just makes the case for Snape even better! Who wouldn't want eternal life and gold?" Harry said.
Hermione shook her head. "Professor Snape may be cruel to Gryffindors, but I think that's just because he obsesses too much over winning the House and Quidditch Cups." Harry and Ron argued against her for a while longer, but eventually gave up.
"She's a lost cause, that one," Ron muttered as he and Harry got ready for bed. The Quidditch match between Gryffindor and Slytherin was the next day, and Harry needed to get to bed early.
The breakfast food smelled hundreds of times better than usual the next morning, but Harry wasn't hungry. "I don't want any, thanks," he said for the umpteenth time to his friends who were all pushing sausage and biscuits and gravy onto his plate.
"Harry, you've got to eat something. You don't want to be hungry during the game." Ron said.
"I'm fine," Harry said miserably. Soon it was time to head to the pitch, so Harry said goodbye to his friends and headed for the locker room. Everyone was nervous, and Wood was nervously polishing his broom handle, muttering something about precision, focus, and Gryffindor pride. The Weasley twins were the only relaxed ones in the room, hitting a mini Bludger at each other at such speed that Harry's eyes spun.
"Alright, people!" Wood said suddenly. Everyone became quiet and focused on Wood. "Slytherin's a good team. We've got our work cut out for us. But we have to cooperate. No team wins by riding on one person." Unfortunately, this is where Wood looked over to Harry and said, "Harry is our secret weapon. No one knows how good he is, so we're banking on that. Good luck everyone."
The lump in Harry's throat became bigger, but the whistle from Madame Hooch indicated that it was time to head out onto the pitch. As Harry and the rest of the team walked into the bright sunlight of the outdoor Quidditch pitch, Harry steeled his nerves. Time to show Slytherin what he was made of.