-1Confusion
A/N: Thank you all for your wonderful reviews! Here's the next chapter and I hope it lives up to expectations.
Warning: See First Chapter (Slash, abuse, self harm)
Disclaimer: I own nothing
This chapter has been edited by jharad17
Chapter 2
Harry woke to the crisp silence that could only be found in one area of the whole school, the hospital wing.
He could feel the coarse blankets and sighed, reaching for his glasses, before he gingerly sat up and winced as his back twinged. Sliding the silver rimmed glasses on his nose - having gotten rid of the large, cumbersome black spectacles, and explained to the Dursleys that these new ones were a gift from his murderous Godfather, and not to be broken - he noticed they were a little too tight, pinching his temples, and that they actually blurred his vision.
He heard a pained groan from his right, and as he remembered the events which had led up to his hospitalization, the sound pushed away the thoughts about his eyesight. He echoed the groan; he was doomed. He didn't know what had happened, but Snape had looked pretty horrified before the world went dark.
They had been working on an Aging potion, so maybe… Harry winced again. No wonder he felt so old. But that would mean Professor Snape would have become ancient, but when he turned his head to look, the blur on the bed appeared smaller than the Potion Master's normal size. Maybe he had grown younger.
Or maybe they were both poisoned, Harry mused, trying to feel the poison working inside him. He didn't feel sick, but there was something unfamiliar, a warmth sitting just above his chest. It felt like it attached him, as with a long string, to the blur at his right. He felt himself wince; from his research, he had learned that the Aging potion was related, in a sense, to a bonding potion, as the Ginseng oil was a base for both. He wasn't bonded to Snape was he? God he hoped not!
Panic rose in his throat, but he squashed it down. Snape would know what had happened. He'd only have to ask, and then face the wrath of the Potion Master at his inability to brew a simple Aging potion.
Harry swallowed and prepared himself mentally for a dressing down. "Professor, I…" The dark haired blur on the bed came into focus as he took the glasses off, and his mouth fell open in shock. "Merlin's balls!" Harry clamped his hands over his mouth at the sight before him and the sound of his own voice.
"Damn it, Potter, what the hell have you done? I can't see a thing! This better not be permanent." Snape, or what was suppose to be Snape, continued grumbling while trying to sit up. Harry merely gaped in horror, at himself! His shocked silence was met by the sudden arrival of Madame Pomfrey who clucked at the state of the two. She was followed smoothly by the headmaster, his eyes twinkling madly.
"It's the oddest thing, Albus," she muttered, poking and prodding Harry. "They're perfectly fine. They should have had at least a bruise or two, or even a burn. But here they are, perfectly intact."
Harry almost whimpered at the statement.
"Harry, Severus." The headmaster picked up the glasses from Harry's lap where he had dropped them and, to Harry's surprise, handed them to the man sitting in the other bed. Severus looked at them questioningly before putting them on. They fit perfectly. He took one look at Harry and his face went ashen before the mask was recovered.
"Shut your mouth, Potter. I do not look very attractive with it hanging open like that."
Madame Pomfrey looked shocked, before turning a questioning gaze to the headmaster, who merely sat beside Harry's bed and smiled. Harry's jaw snapped shut, gaping at the glare directed at him from his own green eyes. The fact that Snape could pull off that look -- even while currently residing in Harry's body -- helped to build the pressure in Harry's chest which bubbled out in a slightly hysterical laugh. The laugh swiftly turned into a pained moan as he buried his face in long fingered, elegant, but potion-stained hands, and his shoulder length, raven black hair fell in smooth strands across his face.
"Severus?" Madame Pomfrey tapped the famous thunderbolt scar with her index finger. The action was met with a stony silence and a glare. She turned to face the headmaster with a look of confusion. "They've switched bodies!"
The old man chuckled. "Or they've switched minds. Why don't you go see if any of your other patients need assistance, and I'll make sure these two won't drop dead before you come back."
Madame Pomfrey only rolled her eyes at the dismissal, giving both Harry and Severus severe looks which both understood from having often been in the matron's care: the look promised hours of mother-henning if either were to exert themselves unduly.
"This can't be happening," Severus' voice growled, and Harry couldn't help but cringe He's done a lot of wincing, so I changed this one to 'cringe'. at the voice that was now his. He jumped when he heard his voice answer in a clipped, harsh tone.
"Potter, snap out of it!" Harry looked up to see himself glaring at him. "It was a small error in a potion. I will be able to manage it and fix this mess you've created."
The headmaster cleared his throat, and Harry watched himself whip around to glare at the man. "There's a small problem, Severus." He looked apologetically at the emerald-eyed young man. "Your lab is ruined."
There was an icy silence before the apparent Gryffindor leapt out of his bed, arms outstretched for the Potion Master's neck. "I will KILL you, Potter!" Obsidian eyes widened in terror, and the older man half jumped, half fell out of the bed and promptly tripped over his own feet.
"Severus! Stop that at once! Harry, sit back down on the bed before you hurt yourself!" Harry's body stood still quivering with rage, fists clenching and unclenching.
"Why, Mr Potter," Harry's voice growled, "do you have no control over your body's response to emotions?"
"No one ever taught me. Besides, I have plenty of control; you just don't know my body. Sir." Harry didn't like the way the Potion Master was addressing his body. It wasn't perfect, but it was his, and he didn't like the fact the other man was insulting it.
"What do you think Occlumency was for, you simple minded brat?"
"Severus." The headmasters tone was firm, and it stopped Snape mid rant. Harry sighed in relief -- he hadn't realised he could look that scary.
"Sorry, Headmaster." A guilty look flashed across the boy's face which soon turned into a horrified look when Harry giggled.
"Mister Potter, if you EVER giggle in my body again, I will personally find a curse worse than the Avada Kedavra, string you up by your insides and then use it on you." Long raven hair swayed as Harry nodded quickly, and Snape cracked his knuckles threateningly.
"Boys…" Albus cleared his throat. "Gentlemen, please sit down and explain to me what happened."
The two men sat down hurriedly at the tone of the headmaster voice.
"I want him expelled!"
"It was an accident!" both said at the same time.
They glared at each other and Albus chuckled. "I didn't ask who's fault it was, I asked what happened."
"I was brewing the potion we were given for the holidays, and we were… er conversing." The headmaster chuckled, thinking, 'beautiful choice of words, Harry: conversing, indeed.' "And I accidentally knocked in a bottle of black beetle eyes and then… I woke up, in Snape's body."
"Professor Snape," the headmaster chided, before turning to face Snape in Harry's body. "That should be simple enough to correct, right, Severus?" Green eyes glared at the twinkling, blue eyed man.
"No." The one word seemed to deflate the air in the room.
Harry panicked. "What do you mean! You're a Potion Master!" he yelled.
"I said it wouldn't be simple, but I didn't say I wouldn't be able to do it. It will just take a few days."
"A few days?" Harry twitched, and Snape didn't seem too pleased at the motions Harry was putting his body through.
He sighed and rolled his eyes as if it pained him to have to explain. "The potion was at a crucial stage. It may have reacted only to the first few beetle eyes it came in contact with, or it may have reacted with them all. I must take a sample from the remaining potion to find out."
At this the headmaster cleared his throat. "Ah, well. You see, my boy… the House Elves cleaned up everything."
Harry could only stare in horror at the old man, before a solid thunk to his right drew his attention. He watched as his own head came in contact with the headboard, the closest solid object available. "Hey! That's my body you're damaging!"
"Forgive me, Potter." The words dripped with sarcasm as Snape let his head drop back once more, just hard enough to make a reassuring thunk sound. Harry winced.
"So, it isn't too hard to fix, is it?"
"A few weeks," was the despondent reply.
"What?! But it'll be the holidays! And… and…"
"You will have to stay in Severus' quarters."
Harry jumped as he heard himself groan from the other bed. He couldn't get used to hearing his own voice spoken by someone else. This was worse than his first year, and he'd definitely face the basilisk again instead of this, not to mention Umbridge and maybe a horde of Death Eater's.
"It won't be possible. My wards register only my magic signature, and Potter doesn't have the knowledge or control to change or de-activate them."
"Well then, the only other safe place for him to stay is with the Dursleys. That way he will also be in close contact with you."
"What!"
"No!" Harry winced at his outburst before continuing, a little calmer. "I just think it'd be best if we both stayed here, so Professor Snape could work on the potion, here, in his own lab."
"Don't want your family fawning over me, Potter?"
Harry paled at the thought of Snape being left to his own defences in the Dursley household. Would the Underaged Magic laws relate to him? A small hint of glee worked itself up in Harry's mind as he imagined the Dursleys facing Snape at his worst. It was pushed away quickly. He didn't want anyone to find out what happened during the summers, and definitely not Snape. He'd use the information to make Harry's life hell. He could just imagine it now: Snape would go to the papers, 'Potter pounded by Muggles'. It'd be broadcast over the whole wizarding world. He'd be laughed at, sneered at, but worst, he'd be pitied.
"No it's just… it'd be more convenient for you." Harry tried to sound sincere and pleading all at the same time.
"I'm sorry, Harry, but that won't be possible. The Ministry has very strict rules regarding students residing on the grounds during the summer holidays."
"So?" He couldn't let Snape go to the Dursleys. "Aren't there exceptions? I could do work for the Order, maybe some research in the school library. They wouldn't have to know."
"Think, Potter! The Ministry keeps a sharp eye on the school. One false move and not only would they be in here like a pack of wolves, but the Dark Lord would find out, resulting in both of us being better off dead." Harry watched as Snape worked his body into a rage, imagining the possible misfortunes awaiting them.
"Aren't you an Occlumency Master?" The mocking tone didn't help the slipping control the other man had on his anger.
The torches flickered, turning a ghastly green, and the jars in the hospital cabinets rattled. Harry bit his lip, wondering if he should try and ground the man. A vase exploded, and Harry drew a hand firmly but gently down his back. A comforting gesture he hoped would help Snape.
"Calm down." He watched as emerald eyes opened, the pupils just slits, and to his surprise Severus hissed at him angrily. However, the torches no longer held the green in their flames, and the walls had stopped shaking. Harry hissed back, the language feeling unfamiliar on the older man's tongue.
The exchange caused the emerald eyes to blink, confusion in their depths. "I understand Parseltongue?"
"You have Harry's gifts, as well as the ability to tap into the instinctive magic that our boy seems to possess in considerable amounts. It would be quiet natural for you to possess his Parseltongue gift. Harry would have kept it, too, as it is present in his mind."
"Does that mean he's connected to Voldemort instead of me?" Harry saw himself flinch.
"I would presume so," the Headmaster said, "as Voldemort is connected not to your mind but to you body and scar. He uses those to gain access to your mind."
"But what about Snape? He'll find out."
Snape made Harry's mouth sneer. "I, unlike you, have mastered Occlumency and am able to protect my mind."
"However, you two will have to act like each other until the holidays, so you don't alert Voldemort to your condition."
"But what if I get called?" Severus interrupted. "I'm presuming that Mr Potter is connected to the Dark Lord through the dark mark, working on the same principle as the famous scar."
Harry rubbed his forehead as he did whenever his scar was mentioned, but found smooth, unblemished skin. Only then did it occur to him, he wasn't Harry Potter anymore. He could go out unrecognised, no blatant stares, whispers behind his back, or attempts on his life. He could have a normal life for at least a few weeks, albeit a life as Severus Snape, but he could make it work. He couldn't help letting the grin slip onto his face, before turning it into a sneer. He'd have to play the part if he wanted this to work. And the first thing he had to try out was the Snape drawl.
"You're worried about me, how touching." Sarcasm dripped off the words, the drawl was there, but something was missing. However it seemed to have been efficient as both the headmaster and Snape were staring at him.
Snape recovered first with a cutting retort. "I just don't want you to be killed, leaving me in your body for the rest of my miserable life." A sneer, which was interrupted by the headmaster's tutting.
"Now, Severus, Harry is attempting to pick up your role, you should try and mirror his example."
"Merlin, I'm to play an adolescent Gryffindor, with an ego larger than his father's and dogfather's combined, an intelligence on par with theirs, and with a dismal ability to brew potions but a superior aptitude for getting himself into trouble."
"Don't forget the screaming fans and obsessive press." Harry was getting the feel of the sarcastic drawl.
"Oh, what ever will I do with the fans and the press?"
"Beat them off with a stick… if you can find one big enough. But back to the original question, I've seen enough Death Eater meetings to know how you act in them and what to expect." Harry grimaced, but the idea of only one or two Crucios instead of experiencing everyone's pain was rather appealing, and the fact he wouldn't have to worry about the man messing in his mind, or attempting to possess him, sent a flood of relief through him. He just hoped Snape truly was a master of the mind and could keep the snake faced bastard out.
He looked at Snape and sneered. "You know, I'm not that hot looking with my mouth hanging open either."
A/N: The characters are a little OOC at the moment, sorry about that, but I'll try and get them to behave in the next chapter.
If anyone has any ideas with the plot please help me!