5DISCLAIMER :) -I'm sure I don't own Harry Potter unless I am able to convince J.K. Rowling to sell me it. Which I doubt is going to happen.
Summary: What if Harry had been sorted into Slytherin? Would a terrible chain of events start to unfold or will something that should have happened for the best be placed? Future Draco/Harry.
A/N: In this story, Severus Snape will be like a father-figure to Harry. Well, once everything between them is settled. Also, please excuse my mistakes and if Harry, Dumbledore, or Snape seem a bit too OOC to you. I simply cannot write down their actions without making them seem so...uncharacteristic.
"Words said."
'Thoughts.'
"Parseltongue or a snake speaking."
Harry was a bit upset that school was over, but it didn't make much of a difference if he was bullied at school by Dudley's gang at at home too. Dudley's gang, which consisted of Piers, Dennis, Malcolm, and Gordon we all big and stupid, but Dudley was the biggest and stupidest of the lot, he was the leader. 'It made sense too.' Harry thought, running from Dudley's gang again.
They were all quite happy to join in on Dudley's favorite sport: Harry Hunting. This was why Harry spent as much time as possible out of the house, wandering around and thinking about the end of the holidays, where he could see a tiny ray of hope. When September came, he would be going off secondary school. The great things about this was that Harry would be going to a different school then Dudley. Dudley had been accepted at Uncle Vernon's old private school, Smeltings. It seems Piers would be going too. Harry, on the other hand, would be going to Stonewall High, the local public school. 'At least my school would have a more normal name that Smeltings.' Harry thought.
"They stuff people's heads down the toilet on the first day at Stonewall," he told Harry. "Want to come upstairs and practice?"
"No, thanks," said Harry. "The poor toilet's never had anything as horrible as your head down it - it might be sick." Then he had ran before Dudley could work out what he'd said. Even though Harry shouldn't need to run so fast, knowing Dudley's dim-witted mind, he wasn't going to take any chances.
One day in July, Aunt Petunia took Dudley to London to buy his Smeltings uniform, leaving Harry in another's[1] care. It wasn't as bad as usual. It turned out that she had broken her leg form tripping over one of her many cats, she didn't seem quite as fond as them as she was before. She let Harry watch television and gave him a bit of chocolate cake that tasted as though she had it for years.
That evening, Dudley had paraded around the living room for the family in his brand-new uniform. The Smeltings boys uniform consisted of marontailcoats, orange knickerbockers, and flat straw hats called boaters. They also carried knobbly sticks, used for hitting each other while the teachers weren't looking. This was supposed to be good training for later life.
As he looked at Dudley in his new knickerbockers, Uncle Vernon said gruffly that it was the proudest moment of his life. Aunt Petunia burst into tears and said she couldn't believe it was her Ickle Dudleykins, he looked so handsome and grown-up. Harry, on the other hand, didn't trust himself to speak. Or even breathe for that matter, he thought two of his ribs might have already cracked from trying not to laugh. He knew he hadn't though, he would know what it felt like for a rib to break for him, thanks to his uncle.
The next morning, after Harry woke up to make breakfast, he came out and walked to the kitchen to find a horrible smell. It came from a large metal tub in the sink. He went to get a closer look. The tub seemed to be full of what looked like dirty rags in gray water.
"What's this?" he asked Aunt Petunia. He had forgotten that he wasn't allowed to ask questions and was lucky when Aunt Petunia lip just tighten instead of getting Uncle Vernon.
"Your new school uniform," she said.
Harry looked into the bowl again.
"Oh," he said, "I didn't realize it had to be so wet."
"Don't be stupid," snapped Aunt Petunia. ('Like you're one to talk,' Harry thought.) "I'm dying some of Dudley's old things gray for you. It'll look just like everyone else's when I've finished."
Harry seriously doubted this, but thought it would be best not to argue. He'd probably look like he was wearing elephant skin. Dudley and Uncle Vernon came in, both with wrinkled noses because of the smell from Harry's new uniform. They heard the click of the mail slot and flop of letters on the doormat.
"Get the mail, boy." said Uncle Vernon behind his paper.
"Yes, Uncle Vernon." Harry said, as he dodged Dudley's Smelting stick.
There were three mails that lay on the doormat: a postcard from Uncle Vernon's sister Marge, who was vacationing on the Isle of Wight, a brown envelope that looked like a bill, and - a letter for Harry.
Harry picked it up and stared at it, no one had ever sent him anything. He had no friends, no other relatives - he didn't belong to the library, so he never got those rude notes asking for books back. Yet, here it was, a letter, addressed so plainly there could be no mistake:
Mr. H. Potter
The Cupboard under the Stairs
4 Privet Drive
Little Whinging
Surrey
The envelope was thick and heavy, made of yellowish parchment, and the address was written in emerald-green ink (Harry's favorite color). Yet, there was no stamp. Turning the envelope, his hand trembling, Harry saw a purple wax seal bearing a coat of arms; a lion, an eagle, a badger, and a snake surrounding a large H.
"Hurry up, boy!" shouted Uncle Vernon from the kitchen. "What are you doing, checking for letter bombs?" He chuckled at his own joke.
Harry quickly hid the letter for him under the doormat and went back to the kitchen and gave Uncle Vernon the other mails. He would go back to it later.
That night, he snuck out of his cupboard and went to get his letter. Right when he was about to open it, Uncle Vernon came downstairs and saw the letter in Harry's hands.
"What in the devils name do you think you are doing, boy? What's that letter behind your back?" he said, making his way to tower over Harry. Given Harry's size and built, it was very easy for him to do so. He snatched the letter from Harry and glanced at it. His face went form red, to green faster than a set of traffic lights. And it didn't stop there. Within seconds, it was the grayish white of old porridge.
"P-P-Petunia!" he gasped loudly, when Aunt Petunia had come down to check what the noise was all about. She took it curiously and read the first line. For a moment, she looked as if she might faint. She clutched her throat and made a choking noise. 'Drama queen.' Harry thought. They stared at each other before yelling at Harry to go back to his cupboard.
"But, my letter..." Harry trailed off with a whimper as his Aunt and Uncle shot him both threatening glares. He quickly went back to the comfort of his cupboard and wondered what was in the letter before falling into a deep sleep.
The next morning, he had gotten the same letter, although, thanks to Dudley's stupidity, neither held possession to it. Uncle Vernon teared the next one up, but at least Harry got to step on his face for it. Then Uncle Vernon had stayed home just so he could burn the letters. After, thirty or fourty letters seemed to be shooting from the fireplace. Uncle Vernon even made Harry move into Dudley's second bedroom because of it all, much to the displeasure of Dudley. Right when Uncle Vernon was on the verge of moving somewhere else and away from the letters in hope to 'shake them off', Harry started to question about the letters. He growled, annoyance and frustration finally took over. He punched Harry, giving him a big dark bruise on his bottom jaw.
"Severus, my dear boy, may I ask you a favor?" Albus Dumbledore asked, as he stuck his head out from Severus Snape's fireplace.
"And what favor would this, Albus?" Severus asked, lifting an eyebrow.
"Well, I would like you to check on young Harry and take him to buy his school supplies and give him his letter. He hasn't been responding to any of them." Dumbledore asked with a gentle smile sent directly to Severus.
"What? Absolutely not! He's probably being pampered right now. Why don't you ask Minerva to do the task? Surely, she is better suited for it."
"Minerva is busy enough as it is and I would not like to bother her, you seem to have free time on your hands though."
"But Albus! I have potions to brew."
"You brew them later, now off you go. Here's the letter."
That's where Severus found himself moments later to check on the boy. Walking up to path to the door, he took notice at how normal and bland the houses were. Every. Single. One. Even the lawns looked well-taken care of. Have any of these Muggles ever heard of being unique? He mentally shook his head. 'I don't know what these Muggles think of these days.' he thought.
He sighed and mentally shook himself out of it. He proceeded to knock on the door, he was not suspecting a child with the physical appearance of an eight year old. He was sure that Potter was turning eleven. The boy turned large green eyes that he knew so well towards him. 'Lily's eyes.' Severus thought, almost fondly, then he quickly banished the thought. He looked at the boy, seeing that he sported a large bruise on his face, he was confused.
"Hello, sir. How may I help you?" the boy in front of him asked in a quiet voice.
"I would like to speak with Harry Potter and hand him his letter." Severus spoke, raising an eyebrow. Maybe this wasn't Potter and some other little boy. But the messy black hair and emerald eyes said different.
"That would be me, sir. Uhm, may I ask who is speaking?" Potter said, confusion lacing through his words. Severus was about to answer when a large man shouted at the boy.
"Freak! What have I told you about talking to strangers?" the blob of a man shouted at the cowering boy.
"I'm sorry Uncle Vernon. I won't do it again. I swear. I'm so-" Harry whimpered, but was cut off as Uncle Vernon slapped him across the face.
To say Severus was angered was an understatement. He was beyond enraged, how dare this-this Muggle lay a hand on a child! Taking out his wand, he pressed threatingly against the fat arses throat. "Don't even dare lay another hand on this child! I am taking this boy with me and there won't be another say in it."
"It's you and y-your lot! D-don't you dare p-point that t-thing at m-me! Take the b-boy! We never wanted h-him in the first p-place!" he stuttered as his face turned a deep shade of purple.
Severus took the Potter's hand and left the house immediately and said to the boy, "Hold onto me tightly. I will be taking you to another place seeing as how your Uncle is unfit to take care of you."
"Erm, okay, sir. But, if you don't mind me asking, who are you?" the child said shyly, looking at the ground. They stopped and Potter wrapped his small, thin arms around Severus's waist, remembering what he had said.
Severus looked down at him, and stared into his eyes before saying, "I am Severus Snape. You shall adress me as Professor Snape." before they disappeared with a pop.
[1] This site won't let me save her name onto this chapter or the one before. You probably know who it is that owns many cats and broke her leg. You must or the reason you are reading about Harry Potter is beyond me. I hope none of this is bad or anything. I was rushing through.
A/N: Please excuse my many mistakes. I am lazy and decided not to read through it all just to check if there were any mistakes. Please Enjoy. Flames and constructive critisism are welcomed. My apologies if this chapter is short.
With love from,
YinKitsune