Title: Sweet sixteen
Author: Ligeia
Pairing: HP/SS
Rating: PG-13
Category: Pre-slash, a bit of humour here and there
Summary: Harry causes an accident during Potions class and Snape has to bear the consequences.
A/N: Extra thanks to Tangerine who beta-read this for me. =)
All characters in the Harry Potter universe belong to JK Rowling. I'm just a devoted fan with an overactive imagination.
Part 1
Slice, weigh, pour, stir. Harry Potter was overly bored. Not that the fact was unusual, Potions was his least favourite subject, but that day he felt particularly restless. Having to prepare an insignificant healing potion any second year could make with minimal effort wasn't helping him keeping his mind focused either.
'Why not a toxic draught?' he thought. 'That'd be much more interesting. I bet Snape can brew all the poisons known to mankind. And a few more.' Harry looked at the various bottles and jars that decorated the dimly lit classroom. Six years at Hogwarts and he still didn't know what exactly some of them contained. And, honestly, he wasn't anxious to find out.
Thinking of mysterious ingredients reminded him of a little something he had been wanting to try for some time. Leaving a grumbling Ron to stir the bubbling mass in the cauldron, he rummaged briefly through his bag and found what he was looking for. Taking a stealthy glance at Snape to make sure he wasn't looking, he quickly pulled out a little brown pouch and placed it on the desk, his thick Potions book keeping it out of the professor's sight.
"What's that?" Ron asked in a near-whisper as he added the digitalis extract to the simmering potion. The liquid turned a nice shade of lilac.
"Phoenix ashes", Harry whispered back, carefully undoing the black ribbon that held the pouch closed.
"What?"
Ron's voice reached Snape's desk and the professor looked up from the parchment he was reading. "Problems, Mr Weasley?" He asked in his usual annoyed tone.
"No, sir", Ron answered quickly and concentrated on stirring the contents of his cauldron.
The teacher raised an eyebrow and looked like he was about to add one of his acid comments, but only said, "Keep quiet then. You're disturbing the other students."
Ron threw a disgusted look at said 'other students': Slytherin. Again. He wondered if it was just bad luck that Gryffindor always ended up paired with them in Potions. 'Not bloody likely.'
"The potion will be ready in a few minutes", Snape's voice thundered in the silence of the classroom as he stood up and stalked through the tables in his typical vulture-like way. "You only need to add the last ingredient."
Harry was about to pour the ashes into the cauldron when Ron grabbed his wrist. "Are you crazy?" He said, trying to keep his voice as low as he could, "It's going to blow up!"
"Don't worry, Ron", Harry reassure his friend, "I've read somewhere that phoenix ashes can be used to improve healing potions, you just have to be careful and add only a little bit..."
Just then Neville Longbottom's elbow bumped against Harry's arm, making the boy drop most of the precious content of the pouch into the steaming cauldron. The lilac liquid suddenly turned golden and a thick yellowish column of smoke rose from it. The two boys stood gaping, while a few Slytherins screamed, "Professor Snape!"
The teacher spun round, anger flashing in his eyes as he noticed who was causing trouble. Pushing students out of his way, he strode over the two Gryffindors. "Potter! Weasley! Get away from there!"
They seemed too stunned to move and didn't react even when the smoke took the shape of a big golden bird. Snape managed to reach them and shove them away just before it spread its wings and dived in. He barely had the time to wrap his outer robe around himself protectively before he was hit with such force that he was knocked down.
Silence fell on the classroom. A Slytherin student scampered off in the direction of the hospital wing to seek help. Harry and Ron were still staring at the teacher's unconscious body when Madam Pomfrey arrived and hurriedly shooed everyone away.
+++++
A couple of hours later, despite Ron's attempts to dissuade him, Harry was standing in front of the infirmary door. He had been the cause of the accident after all, and the least he could do was to apologise. He only wished the Potions master would still be too weak to bite his head off. He gathered his courage, took a deep breath and knocked.
Silence.
He tried the handle and found it was open. 'Strange', he thought, 'Madam Pomfrey must've been in a hurry if she didn't even put a little locking spell on it.' He slowly pushed the door open. "May I come in?" Still no answer. He poked his head inside and saw the room was empty. 'Maybe Snape got better and went back to...'
He hadn't even finished the thought when he heard someone approaching. Loudly.
"I said let me go! I'm perfectly able to look after myself!"
"No, you're not! And you surely don't want the students to see you in this state now, do you?"
Harry could have sworn he was witnessing a discussion between Snape and Madam Pomfrey, but the male voice didn't belong to the professor. Sure, the tone was just as harsh, but the pitch was slightly higher than Snape's deep timbre. It was... boyish. Harry wondered if the Potions master's voice had sounded like that when he had been younger.
He heard their steps getting closer. Maybe one of the Slytherins had fallen off his broomstick on the Quidditch field and the nurse was dragging him to the hospital wing to patch him up. Obviously, Slytherin pride would never let any of those spoilt prats admit they were actually hurt.
"You've been really lucky no one saw you. What do you think would happen if someone..." She stopped abruptly when she saw Harry standing in the hallway in front of the infirmary. The person she was holding by the wrist wasn't expecting that and bumped against her back. "Potter? What are you doing here?" Harry had never seen her eyes look so wide and worried.
"Well", he fumbled to find the right words, "It was my fault the potion blew up like that and I'm sure he's mad at me but... I mean, I just wanted to apologise to..."
Then he noticed the boy. He was a boy indeed, just like he had thought, and appeared to be about the same age as Harry. He was tall, lean and pale, with shoulder-length black hair and a nose that looked oddly familiar. The black robe he was wearing was covered with dust, stained with some sort of golden substance and looked at least one size too big for him. Harry also noticed it wasn't a student uniform: no House badge, high-necked, well-tailored. Not even Malfoy wore such fine clothes. Actually, it reminded him of...
He looked up into the boy's black eyes and had no doubt. "Professor... Snape?"
Part 2
"I cannot believe you could be such a complete and utter idiot!" Snape growled, pacing the length of Dumbledore's office restlessly and flailing his hands. "I thought no one, not even you, could be so..."
"What Professor Snape is trying to tell you, Harry, is that you've been a bit... thoughtless", Dumbledore's ever-calm voice interrupted the Potions master's outburst.
"Thoughtless!" The professor couldn't believe his ears. "That must be the understatement of the century." Barely controlling his rage, he turned menacingly to Harry. He was a couple of inches shorter than his normal towering height, but could still look down at the student with a glare that would scare a basilisk away. "And how exactly did you come into possession of phoenix ashes, Potter?"
"I was just..." Harry swallowed, trying his best to keep calm and explain himself decently. Perhaps if Dumbledore understood that his intentions were good he could persuade Snape to have mercy on him. "Trying to... potentiate the potion. I've read that phoenix ashes have... healing properties and I thought..."
"It's the tears, not the ashes, Potter", Snape cut him short, sounding more tired than angry, as if they were in class and he had to repeat the ingredients of the most simple potion again, "and you, of all people, should know that."
Snape's words were quite a revelation to Harry. He had indeed experienced the effects of phoenix tears personally: Fawkes's timely interventions had saved his life more than once. He also remembered seeing the headmaster's bird burst into flames and re-emerge as a chick from under its ashes. Phoenixes are reborn through them, why hadn't he thought of it before? It was so obvious. He felt like a fool.
"Fortunately this little accident didn't cause any major damage."
Snape spun round, not quite sure he had heard right. "It... didn't cause damage? I've turned into a bloody teenager! I would classify that as damage."
"I did notice, Severus", Dumbledore replied, a twinkle of silent amusement in his blue eyes, "but as you were explaining to me earlier, the potion became unstable when the phoenix ashes were added and its effects are not permanent. A few days and you'll be in the full glory of your mid-thirties again." He smiled and looked lost in thought for a moment. "What I would give to be an energetic, young wizard again..."
Snape rolled his eyes and murmured something incomprehensible under his breath before addressing the headmaster again. "And what am I supposed to do until then? What about my classes?"
"We'll tell the students you are still recovering from today's incident. And since it's Friday you won't have to worry about teaching for a couple of days. If you're still in these conditions by Monday morning I will stand in for you for the time needed."
Snape opened his mouth to protest, but a look at the headmaster's face told him it would be completely useless. "I don't think complaining is an option, is it?" Dumbledore's smile was the clearest answer. "Well, I suppose I'll be spending the next few days in my chambers. If you need anything, headmaster..."
"Oh, I don't think so, Severus." The amusement behind Dumbledore's voice told Snape he wasn't going to like his next words. "Hiding in your dungeons will do nothing to quicken the... recovery process. And you surely wouldn't want to miss tomorrow's Quidditch match: it's Gryffindor versus Slytherin, you know."
"I do know, Albus", Snape replied through clenched teeth. "What do you suggest I do, then? Borrow Potter's invisibility cloak?"
Dumbledore's smile was sweeter than ever. "I have a better idea."
+++++
"Remind me again why I've agreed to play a role in this... farce."
"Because you didn't have a choice", Professor McGonagall answered casting an amused glance at his rejuvenated colleague as they approached the Great Hall for dinner. "And I'm sure you're enjoying being sixteen again. Everyone has fond memories of their adolescence. I still remember the time when I was a student, the friends I met during my school days, the collective efforts to win the House Cup..."
"Please, Minerva. All that Gryffindor romanticism is nauseating", Snape grumbled. "I didn't like being sixteen when I was sixteen, why should I like it now?"
The old witch smiled. "Because you're not sixteen anymore."
They entered the Great Hall before he had time to reply to her philosophical - or was it just ironic? - statement. All the students were looking at them and he fervently wished he was safely locked away in his rooms. Damn Dumbledore and his 'brilliant' ideas, this would never work. He sat down in his usual seat and waited for the inevitable to happen.
"As some of you may have heard", Dumbledore's voice sounded loud and clear in the semi-silence of the hall, "Professor Snape had a little... incident this afternoon." All the Slytherins glared toward the Gryffindor table and Harry squirmed a little in his seat. "Madame Pomfrey suggested he should rest for a few days, so I'm sorry to inform the Slytherins he won't be present at tomorrow's Quidditch match."
A low murmur rose from the Slytherin table and Snape was surprised to see that the students of his House looked... disappointed. He quickly dismissed the thought from his mind: they had probably wanted to win against Gryffindor in front of their Head of House - Slytherin pride - and now they had lost a chance to show off. They surely weren't interested in him as a person; the only thing that mattered was his role.
"You may as well have noticed we have a guest with us tonight." Snape stiffened at the headmaster's words and braced himself for whatever was to come. "This boy is the only other living member of the Snape family and I thought it fair to inform him of the situation. Although I assured him that Severus is in good health and only needs to rest, he asked to come visit him and, of course, I agreed. And, before any of you asks, no, he's not his son. Even if the resemblance is rather... striking."
Sniggers rose from all the tables and Snape rolled his eyes. Professor Flitwick had cast a light masking charm on him, but the changes had been minimal, just enough to make sure the so-called 'resemblance' wouldn't arouse suspicion. The trademark Snape nose was still there, though.
"So, I think it's time for our young guest to introduce himself."
Snape's blood froze. Dumbledore had conveniently forgotten to inform him he would have to make a speech in front of the whole school and he hadn't thought of a name yet. 'Severus' was clearly out of question. Silently cursing the headmaster for the umpteenth time, he slowly stood up and looked around the Great Hall. Every student was watching him. He decided on the first name that crossed his mind.
"My name is Alexander Snape. I would like to thank Professor Dumbledore and the Hogwarts staff for the hospitality I've been offered."
The Slytherins were the first to applaud him, soon followed by everyone else. Surprised, Snape stood still for a moment, then sat back down and turned to Dumbledore. The headmaster smiled and raised his goblet at him.
"Welcome to Hogwarts, Alexander Snape."
Part 3
Dinner went off without a hitch. Snape was still uncomfortable about the whole situation, but having been a spy for so long he managed to hide his nervousness with little effort. 'I've been able to fool Lord Voldemort himself, dealing with a pack of ignorant students won't be a problem at all.' But even as he thought that, he couldn't help casting casual glances around the Great Hall. Every now and then someone would look up at the teachers table, but there wasn't suspicion in their eyes, just sheer curiosity.
Deciding he had pushed his luck enough for one day, he laid his fork down and, not bothering to finish off his dessert, he stood up. He was about to ask Dumbledore permission to leave, when Draco Malfoy approached the teachers' table.
"Professor Dumbledore, I was wondering if it was possible to have Alexander Snape at the Slytherin table for a bit. It would be a honour for us." The boy turned to Snape. "If that's not a problem for you, of course."
The professor opened his mouth to refuse, but the headmaster was quicker. "I think that's an excellent idea, Mr Malfoy. Alexander", Snape reluctantly looked down at the old wizard, hoping the murderous intentions in his eyes weren't too obvious, "feel free to use your spare time to make friends with the students of all four Houses, they will show you around and answer any question you may have about the school. Within reason, of course", he added with his ever amused smile. The Potions master had to keep back the sudden urge to strangle the man.
"Thank you, professor Dumbledore", he replied through gritted teeth as the headmaster dismissed him with a gentle wave of his hand.
Draco guided him to the Slytherin table. The whole House was watching them. "So, you're professor Snape's nephew?" The boy asked. There was something beyond simple curiosity in his tone. "I didn't know he had any siblings."
"He doesn't, I'm his cousin's son."
"I see. You're a wizard, aren't you?"
"Of course I'm a wizard!" Snape felt somewhat offended at the implication. "I wouldn't be allowed to stay at Hogwarts if I wasn't."
"Then why don't you study here as well?"
'Damn Malfoy and his observation skills', Snape thought. He wondered if Lucius had already started training him. 'Never trust anyone' was a basic rule for Voldemort's followers. Then again, Draco had probably been a trainee Death Eater since the day he had been able to stand. "For your information, Mr Malfoy, I go to Durmstrang. Not that my studies should be any of your business, anyway." Draco narrowed his eyes at him. No one dared speak to him like that.
"Durmstrang? Cool!" A little girl with long brown plaits and dark eyes said. "Do they really teach the Dark Arts there?"
Snape turned to her with a sardonic smile. "Yes, they do. You wouldn't last a week in my school." All colours drained from the girl's face.
The professor enjoyed the uncomfortable silence that followed his statement for a few moments, then said, "Well, it's been a delightful chat, but I'm afraid I must leave you now. I'll see you tomorrow at the Quidditch match, I've been told you're a fair Seeker, Mr Malfoy." Draco's eyes were full of venom.
Snape got up and walked to the Gryffindor table. "Harry Potter?" He asked staring straight into the boy's green eyes.
Harry swallowed. "Y-Yes?"
"I have a message for you from professor Snape", he said casually, a small lop-sided smile appearing on his thin lips, "You are to clean up the grime you left in the Potions classroom. Come when you're done eating, I'll be there to... assist you."
"But Snape can't give him detention!" Ron exclaimed. "There's an important Quidditch match tomorrow and he's the Seeker! He needs to-"
"I didn't ask for your opinion", Snape cut him short, "And if Professor Snape said Mr Potter has to serve detention, then Mr Potter will be serving detention. End of the story."
"Don't worry, Ron. I guess I deserve that." Snape barely suppressed a snort. Harry looked up at him. "I'll be there in a minute."
"Good. I don't like being kept waiting." With that he spun on his heels and stalked out of the Great Hall.
Neville, who had been cowering against Dean's arm during the discussion, let out a sigh of relief. "He's almost as bad as the real Snape", he said in a thready voice.
"Must be a genetic thing", Harry added sarcastically. He drank up what was left of his pumpkin juice and got to his feet.
"Good luck", Hermione said, looking slightly worried.
"Yeah, I'll need it", he muttered under his breath as he walked out.
+++++
Half an hour later Harry was on his knees scrubbing layers of dirt off the Potions classroom floor with Snape keeping a close eye on him.
'This is not what I thought when he said he would assist me', he thought as he concentrated on a particularly resistant blotch. He wiped his brow on his sleeve, grumbling as he rinsed the dirty cloth for what felt like the hundredth time. It might as well be.
"Tired, Potter?" Snape asked. "Perhaps you thought I would 'assist' you in a more active way?" He snorted. "It is solely your fault that my classroom is covered with a potential toxic substance bearing a vague resemblance to a potion. Why should I soil my hands when I can have the culprit do the work for me?"
'Flawless argument, that.' Harry stood up and dropped the worn rag into the sink.
"And I must say, the floor has never looked so clean. Perhaps you should do this more often."
"I guess doing the chores at the Dursleys' for most of my life has made me a perfect housewife", Harry muttered as he slipped off the thick dragonhide gloves he had been wearing.
"Playing martyr, Potter?"
The boy shrugged. "No, just a modern day Cinderella waiting for Prince Charming."
"You mean the Muggle fairy tale?"
"Yes, the one where the poor girl marries the prince and gets rid of her mean stepmother and stepsisters, who had been treating her like a servant for all her life", Harry explained as he washed his hands.
"How touching", Snape muttered sarcastically and added a half-whispered "Gryffindor romanticism."
Harry chuckled. "What can I say", he added absently as he wiped his hands, "I've always liked the idea of a prince coming to rescue me."
Snape raised an eyebrow at the boy's words. "A prince?"
"Yes, there's always a handsome prince riding his white horse in fairy tales. Tall, blond and blue-eyed usually."
"Are you trying to tell me something?" Snape asked with a smirk.
Harry frowned. Tell him something? "What do you mean, sir?"
The professor snorted. "I thought that girls dreamed of princes and boys dreamed of princesses. Wouldn't you agree, Mr Potter?"
"Uhm... Yes..."
Snape's grin widened. "Then shouldn't you be waiting for a princess?"
'Oh.' Harry mentally kicked himself as he realized what he had just unwittingly revealed. He knew he should come up with a way to make up for it, claim it had been a slip or whatever, but he couldn't think of anything smart to say. "It's just a fairy tale", he replied, sounding a bit too nervous to be convincing.
"Indeed, just a fairy tale", Snape said in a mellifluous voice. "I read some books written by a Muggle called Freud once. He had the most interesting ideas concerning secret meanings hidden in verbal slips, dreams and fairy tales. His theories were a bit strained, but fascinating nonetheless."
"I... I don't quite follow you, sir" Harry murmured, hoping Snape would just drop the topic.
"I think you do. And I also think that I've just found out the Gryffindor hero's little secret." The smugness dripping from Snape's words was sickening.
A moment of silence.
"So what? Are you going to blackmail me now? Or 'accidentally' let it slip like you did with Professor Lupin?" Harry kept his voice steady even if he was visibly tense. "Malfoy and his gang will be more than pleased to find yet another reason to torment me."
Snape raised his eyebrows in surprise. It was true then. He had only intended to embarrass the boy, teasing him about his sexuality, but had hit the nail on the head instead. Before he could think of a scathing remark, Harry turned and looked straight into his eyes. The Potions master saw both resignation and resolution there, like he was well accustomed to being the target of the most irritating hoaxes but had no intention of bowing his head and taking it all without putting up a fight. He had a sudden flashback to his own youth, when he had to cope with those insufferable Marauders pestering him every day. He wondered what might have happened if they had discovered that particular part of his private life. He couldn't suppress a shudder at the thought.
"You're lucky I can't take points from your House", he finally managed to say, "since, officially, I'm not even here with you."
Harry shrugged. "Can I go now, sir?"
Snape had originally intended to give the boy a much longer, and definitely more tiresome, detention, but his presence was starting to make him nervous and he couldn't understand why. Not even his 'fellow' Death Eaters were able to cause such a reaction, let alone an ordinary student. Then again, Harry Potter was anything but ordinary.
Dismissing the feeling as a side effect of his current condition, Snape waved him off. "Yes, yes. Your detention is over for tonight, you can go and get your precious rest. Wouldn't want people to blame me if you're half asleep and fall off your broom tomorrow, would I?"
Harry walked to the door and turned one last time. "I'll see you tomorrow at the Quidditch match, sir."
Snape only let out a low mumble.
"Goodnight, sir."
Part 4
Snape was about to choke. 'I know I have a long list of sins to atone for, but this is ridiculous', the Potions master thought as he tried to ignore the horde of screaming teenagers surrounding - and threatening to engulf - him. Not only had he been forced back into a body that hadn't been his own for twenty years, now he was supposed to sit there and enjoy himself. As if watching a Quidditch match from the students stands could be defined enjoyable. He glared in Dumbledore's direction. If looks could kill, the headmaster would have been a neat pile of ashes.
Snape averted his eyes as he felt someone sit down next to him. He turned, ready to scare away the fool who had dared come this close to him, but stopped short of doing it when he saw who it was. The girl with plaits.
"Hi", she said in a small voice, "can I sit down here?"
"You already have", he replied pursing his lips. The girl blushed and looked away, eyes roaming over the still empty pitch. She shuffled her feet and began fidgeting with the fabric of her robe. Eventually Snape took pity on her. "What's your name?" He knew the names of all his students and that second-year girl was no exception, but he had to keep up appearances and play his role of guest.
She looked up at him and blinked, surprised that he was actually talking to her. "L-Luna. Luna Niveus."
"Miss Niveus..." he murmured as he gently took her hand and lifted it to his lips. The girl blushed to the roots of her hair and looked like she was going to have a heart attack.
The gesture surprised Snape as well. He had used to enjoy kissing girls' hands just to embarrass them in his youth, but he hadn't done it for years. 'Must be those phoenix ashes again', he thought, 'acting on my brain as well as my body. Potter's going to pay for this too.'
"You can call me Luna... if you want", the girl squeaked, "it's a Latin name, it means 'moon', you know."
"Yes, I know." He hadn't meant to snap at her, but remembering the cause of his current state had made him instantly sour.
"Well, of course you know", Luna muttered staring down at her hands. She bit her bottom lip nervously. "You must be a very good student..."
"You have guts, you know", Snape said in a casual tone, deliberately not looking at the girl. "None of the students dare speak to me. Apart from Malfoy, that is."
"Oh, it was quite rude of him to say those things!" Luna replied looking back up. "Implying that a member of the Snape family isn't a wizard!"
Snape raised an eyebrow. "I'd never tell one of Severus's students would take his side. He's not what I would call a pleasant person."
"Well, no. I mean, not that he isn't..." the girl stuttered, blushing under Snape's amused gaze. "He's not as nice as professor Dumbledore. He's very stern. But he's the only person we can rely on."
"He's the Head of Slytherin, that's his duty", Snape said feigning indifference, though he was curious to know more. It wasn't everyday he could hear what students really thought of him.
"It's not just that", Luna went on, "you see, the headmaster says he's impartial, but everyone knows he favours Gryffindor, the House of the brave. And who would hate Ravenclaw or Hufflepuff, the clever and the loyal? Slytherin on the other hand..." The girl shrugged. "The House of the ambitious. No one really trusts us. Professor Snape is the only one who treats us like normal students."
Snape smiled wryly. Luna sounded resigned, but he could see there was hostility and thirst for revenge in her words. No wonder so many Dark Wizards came from his House. Treat children like snakes and they will grow fangs.
"And if he picks on a few Gryffindors in class, who cares? They're idolised by everybody else, anyway. Even now, look." She nodded toward the other stands. "Everyone supports Gryffindor." She sighed. "Draco cannot compete with Harry Potter, but the team has trained a lot lately, we can win. I only wish professor Snape was here to see how much we're worth."
"I'm sure he already knows."
Luna barely had the time to take in his smile before he turned to the field. The game had started.
+++++
Snape hadn't felt like that since the Gryffindor-Slytherin final in his sixth year, when James Potter had put an end to one of the longest and most hard-fought Quidditch match in the history of Hogwarts, catching the Golden Snitch after a fifty feet vertical dive.
And now, twenty years later, his offspring had done a similar thing.
Slytherin had been winning 90-30. Luna was right, the team had improved a lot: the Chasers were swift and coordinate, the Beaters always managed to anticipate the Bludgers and the Keeper had given Gryffindor a hard time. Watching them was like going back to when they had won the House Cup 6 years in a row. 7 years, hadn't it been for Dumbledore's last minute changes.
But Harry Potter wasn't the youngest Seeker of the century for nothing. He kept flying in circles around Draco Malfoy, making feints and carefully avoiding stray Bludgers. The Slytherin Seeker tailed after him, following his every move and trying to mirror his actions as best he could. And then it happened. Snape held his breath when he saw the boy dash upward leaving a startled Malfoy behind. It was only a matter of seconds before he caught the Snitch in one quick, confident move. Just like his father had done so many years before, only in reverse.
Shouts of joy rose from the Gryffindor stands, students jumped about and hugged, and everyone acclaimed Harry. Someone was already talking about "The Potter Manoeuvre".
Snape was shocked. Not so much because they had lost. But because he had screamed. A loud, pained "No!" as Harry's hand had closed around the little winged demon.
He hadn't screamed at a Quidditch match for twenty years.
+++++
He waited until all the students had gone away and he was the only one left on the stands. He had assured a rather flustered and disappointed Luna that he would tell professor Snape how much the Slytherin team had improved, but refused to leave immediately after the match saying he had no intention of mingling with a crowd of sweaty and frustrated teenagers. She had smiled at his words and told him he sounded just like her professor.
Taking one last look at the now empty pitch, he made his way back to the castle. He stopped as he heard someone talking behind one of the stands.
"He's his secret son, I'm telling you."
"Yeah, they have the same beak!"
A burst of laughter followed the statement. Snape frowned. No wonder whom they were talking about. He wished he was back to his normal persona so he could take an embarrassing amount of House points for insulting a teacher. He hadn't recognized the voices, but was quite positive they belonged to a group of insolent Gryffindors.
"Impossible", another voice calmly stated and this time Snape knew who was speaking. Malfoy. Which meant Slytherins. His Slytherins. So much for the respect Luna had been babbling about. He supposed the other two were Crabbe and Goyle, since they were always following Draco around. He clenched his fists and moved closer, the stands hiding his presence and allowing him to listen.
"Why are you so sure?"
"He's a family friend. If he had a son, my father would've told me."
"Well, maybe he didn't tell anyone about it, not even your father."
"Not bloody likely", Malfoy replied sounding clearly annoyed.
"I still think he's Snape's son", the boy went on, "and unless you can give me concrete evidence he's not..."
"He's not interested in women. At all."
Snape felt as if someone had slapped him in the face. Draco couldn't possibly know, no one knew about his personal life. No one but Lucius. Who had apparently thought it wise to inform his son about it. Snape felt anger rising up from his stomach.
"I think it's the other way round", one of the boys replied, oblivious to the implication. For once in his life Snape was glad those two were dull-brained. "Who in their right mind would even fancy Snape? Let alone sleep with him."
"Perhaps he made her drink a love potion. He's a Potions master after all", the other boy added.
"Whatever", Draco snorted. "Let's get back, I'm starving." His words were followed by the sound of robes rustling and shoes shuffling away as the group headed back toward the castle.
Snape was fuming. His fists were trembling and his nails almost digging into the flesh of his palms. He turned to leave before his anger got the best of him and he ended up doing something stupid. As a teenager he'd had the strange tendency of setting things on fire when he was upset. He had taken only a step when he stopped dead in his tracks.
There, hair mussed and Firebolt in hand, stood Harry Potter.
Part 5
Sunday morning. Snape had hoped he would wake up and find out everything was back to normal, but a glance in the bathroom mirror proved him wrong. Walking into the living area of his chambers after a quick shower, he saw Dumbledore's head floating among the flames in the hearth.
"Ah, Severus, here you are", the old wizard greeted him with one of his gentle smiles.
"Yes, headmaster, here I am", Snape replied in the most casual tone he could muster and folded his arms.
"I see you're still... recovering", Dumbledore said eyeing him. He ignored the wry smile Snape gave him. "I was wondering if you were going to join us for breakfast. You attended neither lunch nor dinner yesterday, is something wrong? Unexpected side effects, perhaps? I'll send Poppy to your rooms if you need anything."
"I just wasn't hungry." Snape couldn't have swallowed a morsel of food even if he'd tried the previous day, his stomach had felt like it was in flames. And he was sure that had he seen either Malfoy or Potter look up at him in the middle of a meal, he would've spat fire at them, roasting various other students in the process. He decided to take no chances - parents tended to be rather difficult to deal with if their children were sent home in a sealed envelope - and thought it would be wiser to avoid eating in the Great Hall.
He realised the last thing he'd eaten had been an apple the previous afternoon and felt like he could use some food. "I'll be there in five minutes. And, Albus..." He paused, wondering if he should continue. "There's something I need to ask you."
Dumbledore smiled. "I'll be waiting for you in my office after breakfast."
+++++
Snape made his way to the headmaster's office in silence. Leaving the Great Hall he had caught a glimpse of Potter and his friends walking down the stairs leading to the Gryffindor dormitory, and that had been enough to make what little food he had managed to ingest swirl dangerously in his stomach. He was sure the boy would cause him an ulcer someday.
What currently worried the Potions master was Potter's reaction to the previous day's events. He had been standing just a few feet away from Snape when the professor had seen him, there was no way he could've missed Malfoy's little speech. Yet he had only greeted him with a mumbled "Sir" and gone back to the castle as if nothing had happened. Snape thought that maybe he had just walked out of the locker room and hadn't heard a word. Or that he hadn't caught on to the insinuation. 'No', he mentally corrected himself, 'only Crabbe and Goyle could be so dense'. He willed the thought away as he reached Dumbledore's office.
"Sugar quill."
The heavy stone gargoyle guarding the door moved and let him in.
Fawkes warbled as he stepped into the studio and he glared at the bird. It had recently regenerated; Severus remembered it had looked quite battered last time he had seen it, while now its plumage was bright and shiny. 'Phoenix ashes can do wonders indeed', he mused, and suddenly had a very clear idea of where Harry had found the precious substance.
"Shut up," he growled. "It's your fault too that I'm in this situation."
"Now, Severus, what can be so terrible about being young again?"
Snape didn't need to look at him to know the headmaster was smiling. "Everything", he muttered and walked to Dumbledore's desk. The old wizard gestured him to sit down.
"Sweet?"
"No, thanks." Snape crossed his legs and sat rigidly in his chair. He kept his back as straight as a ramrod, trying to gain the few inches he was currently missing.
"So, what did you want to talk to me about? Is the potion giving you problems?"
"Not real problems", Snape said, "but I've noticed some changes. Apart from the obvious one, of course." He curled up his lips. "The potion seems to influence some of my thoughts and actions. I've come to the conclusion that it's working on my mind as well as my body, but I cannot understand why."
"Yes, I noticed there was something different yesterday. I hadn't seen you support the Slytherin team so actively in quite a few years." Dumbledore smiled at the wry look Snape gave him. "What kind of potion were you preparing when the... accident happened?"
"A digitalis-based healing potion. It is used mainly to cure the effects of a prolonged exposition to the Cruciatus Curse. The digitalis extract acts on the heart, revitalising it after the shock of the pain."
"I see", the headmaster murmured stroking his long, white beard. A broad smile appeared on his face. "Well, it's all clear then."
"What's clear?" Snape asked, puzzled.
"The potion isn't influencing your mind, but your heart."
"I beg your pardon?"
"The phoenix ashes must have combined with the digitalis extract in such a way that now you have the feelings of a 16-year-old boy, and those feelings affect your actions."
"Nonsense!" Snape replied. "The heart has nothing to do with feelings. That's just a foolish muggle legend."
Dumbledore smiled indulgently. "Most muggles think that magic is just a foolish legend too."
+++++
Snape left Dumbledore’s office and made his way out of the castle. It was still quite early and most of the students were either in the Great Hall having breakfast or still asleep, so he decided to take advantage of the temporary peace to wander around the Hogwarts grounds for a while before retreating to his rooms. He planned to stay there until the effects of the potion wore off. The headmaster’s explanation of how the digitalis extract had combined with the phoenix ashes didn’t convince him at all, but he wasn’t going to risk doing something embarrassing because something was influencing his actions.
Without consciously realising it, he headed to the secluded place at the edge of the Dark Forest he had discovered when he was a student. He had been trying to sneak into Greenhouse number 3 to take some roots one day, when he'd heard the Herbology professor entering. Looking for a place to hide, he had run past Hagrid's hut, through bushes and trees, until he'd found himself in a small clearing. It was far from prying eyes, at the end of the forest but not quite inside the forbidden area, so he wouldn't get into trouble if someone found out. It had been his personal hideaway ever since.
But as he reached his old refuge, he saw that someone else had found it.
A boy was lying on his back under a tree – his favourite tree, he thought with irritation. His robe was spread like a blanket beneath him and he had an arm draped over his eyes. The brown jumper he was wearing had ridden up slightly over his stomach exposing a bit of his midriff and Snape fancied he could see his navel. He licked his lips.
‘Digitalis extract my arse’, he thought, suddenly aware he was drooling over one of his students, ‘it’s the hormones that are making me act like a fool.’
The boy stirred and Snape noticed a pair of round glasses lying at his side. ‘Oh, no. No.’
A light breeze rustled the professor's robes and the boy quickly sat up. "Who's there?" He asked, squinting as he reached for his glasses, his other hand ready to draw his wand.
"I see you've developed your basic wizard instincts at last." Snape's voice didn't betray his discomfort. He couldn't believe he'd just caught himself having questionable thoughts about Harry Potter's navel.
"Oh, it's you professor." Harry's hand retreated from his robe as he adjusted his glasses on his nose. "Am I going to get into trouble for being here?"
"As much as I would like that", Snape drawled, "you're still within Hogwarts ground. The Forbidden Forest begins over there." He nodded toward a group of larches. "You didn't infringe any rule... this time."
"Oh. Good." Harry relaxed visibly. "Why are you here then?"
Snape snorted. "I was looking for a quiet place where I could spend a little time in peace, but, apparently, this particular area won't do."
He turned to leave, but Harry called him back. "Wait, professor!"
He looked back at the student. "What is it, Potter?"
"I... wanted to ask you something."
Snape sighed and moved closer until he was standing right in front of him. "Speak."
The boy blinked nervously up at him. "Uhm... Could you please sit down, sir? You're sort of... intimidating, looking down on me like that."
Snape narrowed his eyes. "That'd be a first. I don't seem to be able to intimidate you in class." He briefly studied the ground Harry was sitting on and, once he was sure the grass wasn't damp, sat down beside him. "Well?"
"I was wondering when you'll be back to your real age, sir. Dumbledore... Professor Dumbledore said it would be just a matter of days, but..."
"Don't fret too much about it", Snape said curtly. "The effects of your little experimental potion will wear off in a couple of days at most."
"Well, I'm glad. It must be unpleasant for you, sir. I'm truly sorry."
"You're not expecting me to forgive you, are you, Potter?"
"No, sir", Harry replied looking down at his hands.
After a few minutes Snape was still sitting there. "Uhm... sir?"
"What now?" The professor was enjoying the silence of the clearing and for a moment he'd forgotten he wasn't alone.
"When you said your name was Alexander... is there any reason why you chose that name?"
"And why do you want to know? It's none of your business."
"I was just curious. I thought you'd choose something more... uhm... a Latin name, maybe."
"Alexander is a Greek name. Do you know who Alexander the Great was?" Harry opened his mouth but Snape didn't let him speak. "He was the king of Macedonia, Aristotle's disciple and a brilliant strategist, probably the best captain of ancient history. His troops defeated the Persians and conquered Egypt. Under his lead the Hellenic Empire was invincible." He paused a moment and a corner of his mouth twitched upward. "My mother wanted to call me Alexander."
"Why did she change her mind?" Harry asked.
"She didn't", Snape replied without looking at him. "My father opposed. Word has it that Alexander the Great was homosexual and my father stated quite clearly that his son would never be named after a 'bloody poof', as he put it."
Beside him, Harry sniggered. "Must be turning in his grave now."
Snape turned sharply toward him. "What?" Harry stared at him with wide eyes, but didn't answer. "What did you say?" He repeated, a murderous look in his black eyes.
Harry opened and closed his mouth a few times before he was able to speak. "I heard what Malfoy said yesterday."
Snape didn't falter. "And you believe whatever nonsense leaves Malfoy's mouth?"
"I saw your reaction to his words. I hadn't seen you so upset since that time at the Shrieking Shack. And Sirius told me you were quite... intimate with Lucius Malfoy when you were students", Harry replied.
Snape added another item to his "Reasons to kill Sirius Black" mental list. "Believe whatever you want to. I don't really care what you think."
He moved to get up, but Harry grabbed his arm. "You are such a hypocrite. Did you have fun the other night, taunting me until I had to admit that yes, even Harry Potter has a skeleton in his closet? Do you know how humiliating it was? Revealing my best kept secret to you, of all people. Not even my friends know about it."
"I'd say that last night a very similar thing occurred to me as well", Snape replied staring at him through narrowed eyes.
Harry gave him a wry smile. "Yeah, I guess you're right. In your words: I've found out the Potions master's little secret. We're even now."
"If it makes you feel better..." Snape said through gritted teeth.
"Actually, there's something that would make me feel much better." Harry, still clutching Snape's arm, leaned in and pushed him on his back. He swiftly straddled his legs to prevent him from escaping.
"What on earth are you doing, Potter?" Snape reached for his wand, but Harry was faster, grabbing it and throwing it a few feet away while pointing his own wand at the professor's throat. "You're not getting away with it this time. Go on. Hex me, curse me, do whatever you like. You'll pay for it tenfold."
"But I don't want to hex you, sir", Harry purred, caressing the side of Snape's face with his free hand before running his fingers through the black hair. "Oh, you washed your hair today", he added with an impish grin. "You weren't so bad when you were younger, professor."
"Is this your idea of revenge, Potter? Raping me? And here I thought you were such a pure and noble Gryffindor", Snape said, staring at Harry with a defiant look.
"I don't want to rape you, sir", the boy replied, bending forward and whispering in his ear, "I want to seduce you."
"What?" Snape didn't have much time to protest, because Harry's mouth was on his in a second. One of the boy's hands kept Snape's head in place while the other was still holding the wand at the man's throat. A sense of déjà vu washed over him. It wasn't the first time someone had tried to 'seduce' him in the same way. But he couldn't believe Harry Potter, saviour of the Wizarding World, was doing it too.
Oblivious to his thoughts, Harry left Snape's lips and trailed a line of kisses along his jaw, brushed the black collar aside and continued down his neck. He began grinding his hips slowly against Snape's and smirked as the man beneath him gasped.
"You like this, sir?" Harry asked and, without waiting for a reply, ran his tongue up Snape's pale throat. Snape's reflexively arched his neck and Harry proceeded to lick his Adam's apple. "You know, it only takes a little stimulus for a teenager to become aroused." As to prove his point, he reached down and rubbed the palm of his hand against the Potions master's crotch. Snape cursed his overactive hormones as his hips bucked up on their own accord.
"It would be such a sweet revenge to break all you defences, defeat all your inhibitions. I could make you pay for six years of unfairness, ravishing you right here and knowing you'd love it. It would tear your pride to shreds, wouldn't it?" Harry went for Snape's mouth again, bit the Potions master's bottom lip and sucked it into his mouth. The professor tried in vain to hold back a moan.
Harry stopped and looked down at Snape's flushed face. He'd never seen him so dishevelled. "But you're right. I am a pure and noble Gryffindor, I won't do it." He pulled back, put his wand away and stood up. He held out his hand and tugged Snape to his feet, then bent down to pick up his robe. He shook it and put it on.
"I'll see you at lunch, sir", he said before going away.
Dazed, Snape waited until Harry had left the clearing to gather his wand and leave. He was going to stay in his rooms until everything was back to normal.
+++++
Monday morning. Snape smiled grimly at his reflection in the mirror. He was thirty six again. No more phoenix ashes, no more digitalis extract, no more crazed hormones.
Speaking of which... He couldn't deny he had quite enjoyed discovering certain hidden skills of a certain young Gryffindor's. Too bad Potter was still a student. The fact that Snape wouldn't mind a further exploration of what he'd recently found out didn't mean he would change his attitude toward him, though. In fact, Snape thought the punishment the brat had got for handling rare ingredients, causing chaos during one of his lessons and ruining a set of his robes wasn't nearly enough. The boy was going to get a detention at the first chance he got: he had an undeniable talent for cleaning classrooms after all, it would be a pity to let such a useful gift go to waste.
On his way to the Great Hall he ran into a group of girls leaving the Slytherin common room. One in particular caught his eye.
"Miss Niveus!"
All the students turned as he called her.
"Y-Yes, professor?" She asked nervously. She knew she'd done nothing wrong, but she didn't know what to expect; Snape had never spoken to her outside class. Apart from that one time when she had accidentally turned a Gryffindor girl's hair green: he had complimented her on the nice hue (bright emerald) and impeccable aim.
"My cousin Alexander went back to Durmstrang last night, he cannot miss any of his classes. Curiously, he asked me to give you his regards. He seemed to believe you would be rather... disappointed if he'd left without saying anything. I wonder why", he added in a fake perplex tone.
"Oh... thank you, sir", the girl stuttered, blushing as the other girls giggled and started muttering among themselves.
Snape nodded and headed for the stairs, a ghastly smile appearing on his lips as he thought of the first class of the day. He had Gryffindors to terrorise.