Sparks Will Fly by Pandora
Summary: When Lily and James' will is discovered in the ruins of Godric's Hollow, what secrets will be revealed? Will two sworn enemies be able to lay aside their differences for the sake of a boy who desperately wants a family?
Categories: Parental Snape > Biological Father Snape > Severitus Challenge Main Characters: Dumbledore, Hagrid, Hermione, Remus, Ron, Sirius, .Snape and Harry (required)
Snape Flavour: None
Genres: Angst, Hurt/Comfort
Media Type: None
Tags: Alternate Universe, Azkaban Character, Runaway, Snape-meets-Dursleys
Takes Place: 4th summer
Warnings: None
Prompts: Sparks Will Fly
Challenges: Sparks Will Fly
Series: None
Chapters: 15 Completed: No Word count: 64748 Read: 97339 Published: 04 Jul 2009 Updated: 16 Jul 2012
Double Trouble by Pandora
Author's Notes:
All characters and universe belong of course to J.K. Rowling

Thank you so much Tabitha for finding the time once again to do such a wonderful job betaing and just kicking around ideas with, and writing such wonderful stories too.

Thank you so much too to Kristeh, who continues to encourage and support me.

Sorry for the long delay. Writer's block has reared its ugly head once again. I promise the next chapter will be longer. Thanks for sticking with me.

"Absolutely not Mr. Potter."

Harry bit his bottom lip, and looked up at his Professor with those endless pools of emerald. But Severus hardened his resolve. The boy may have the Headmaster and his Head of House wrapped around his little finger, with those cutesy little puppy-dog eyes, and trembling bottom lip, but he prided himself on being immune to the whims of irritating children—even children, whose eyes were the exactly the same deep shade of green as....

"But Professor, I-"

Severus' obsidian eyes flashed dangerously. He leant forward, towards the defiantly stupid boy, and towered over him, annunciating every syllable, in a silky baritone staccato, "You. Are. Not. Going. To. Hogsmeade. End of story. The subject is closed."

Harry clenched his fists. It wasn't fair. He'd be the only one in the castle while everyone else got to have some fun. He felt a stab of frustration. Snape as usual, was just saying no, because he could do so.

Harry looked up to see that Snape was studying him with his dark gaze.

"Must I remind you Potter, that you are the prey of a homicidal maniac? Black would like nothing more than to finish the job that he started out to do, when he handed your parents to the Dark Lord on a silver platter. Are you really such an imbecile?"

Harry bristled with resentment.

"But sir, surely Sirius Black would not be so stupid as to do anything in broad daylight, and there'll be other students, and-"

"Mr. Potter," Snape barked. "I have more important matters to attend to than to stand here all day, and drill some sense into that thick skull of yours."

"But-"

"I have given you my answer Potter, and if you wish to pursue this conversation, you will do so, while you scrub cauldrons. Is that clear enough for you?" he sneered.

Harry's lips turned downward into a pout. He knew it had been a lost cause, when McGonagall had flatly refused to consider the matter. And she was practically putty in his hands, compared to Snape. No, scratch that...they were both miserable old sticks-in-the mud.

Damn, Harry thought regretfully, why didn't I just go to Dumbledore to begin with? Now him, I can manipulate with just the right tone of voice, and sorrowful look...

Snape's eyes narrowed, and he glared with piercing intensity at Harry—as though he could read his mind; Harry often swore that the man was capable of just that...

"Give me that permission slip."

"What?"

"I said," Severus said, leaning in even closer, so that Harry could feel his hot breath tickle his cheek, "give me that permission slip. I don't trust you not to run to the Headmaster and convince him to allow you to go," he sneered.

Harry reluctantly handed the man the crumpled-up piece of paper, with a fierce glare.

Severus was startled momentarily. Potter looked very little like his father at this moment. As a matter of fact, although the change had been gradual, Severus was certain that Potter's cheekbones had become a little sharper in the past few weeks, his nose a little straighter, and a little longer...

Severus straightened up, and glared down at the boy, over his crooked nose, to hide his confusion.

"Get to class Potter," he finally growled.

Harry's shoulders slumped. He had known that there was nothing for it, when McGonagall had informed him that only a parent or guardian could sign the permission slip, and suggested that he ask Professor Snape, as the Headmaster had informed all the staff, that he'd been assigned as Harry's temporary legal guardian, until a more suitable replacement could be found.

Of course, Harry thought bitterly, no one would want to be his permanent guardian, well maybe the Weasleys, but definitely not Snape. No...Snape may have taken him in over the summer, but it was only out of a sense of duty to Dumbledore. Dumbledore had promised that he would never go back to the Dursleys, so why not find someone who was more willing to be his guardian...someone more permanent?

Harry shook his head; it always seemed that the wheels in Dumbledore's mind were constantly spinning. Who knew what reasoning he'd had to name Snape as his temporary guardian? The man was brilliant, but eccentric.

As Harry looked up into the Snape's cold black eyes, Harry was hit like a Bludger to the stomach, at the realisation, that this man was for all intents and purposes, in complete control of his life--temporary or not!

Harry shut the door to Snape's office, and quietly slipped out, feeling frustrated and angry. Where did the greasy git get off telling him that he couldn't go to Hogsmeade? Snape wasn't his father, and wasn't even his real guardian. He was just someone that hated him, and had treated him like scum for the past two years. Okay, so the bat didn't exactly treat him like scum this summer, and yeah...he gave Harry plenty to eat, and made sure that he was protected safely inside the castle, and defended him against his own Slytherins--even taking points from his own House. But that didn't mean that he liked the man!

------

"So what did the greasy git say?" Ron asked, as they climbed the winding staircase to the Divination classroom.

Harry sighed. "What do you think that he said?

Ron's freckled face, twisted into a scowl. "No, of course."

Harry's lips curled into a bitter smile.

Harry's shoulders slumped dejectedly. "You'd be right of course."

Ron hitched his book bag further up on his shoulder. "Why the hell would Dumbledore make Snape your guardian anyway? Why not my parents?" he huffed.

"Yeah, I asked McGonagall that, and she said that your parents have enough to be going on with--that they have already enough children to care for and that Dumbledore felt that I needed someone who could protect me adequately. Also, that he didn't want your parents to become a target."

Ron looked at him skeptically. "Yeah, but why Snape of all people?"

Harry scowled. 'Would you believe that McGonagall said that Snape was a good choice because he would keep me in line?"

Ron's jaw fell. "What?"

Harry raked his hand through his messy black hair, which was actually starting to behave more and more. "Yeah, she said that I'd think twice about doing something reckless with Snape watching over me, and I'd be safer."

"She's gone bloody mental," Ron said incredulously.

"Yeah, I'll just have to prove her wrong." Harry said thoughtfully.

At Ron's searching look, Harry elaborated, "I meant the keeping me in line bit."

Ron grinned. "Oh, okay then. Yeah, what a nerve. What do you say that we put your dad's invisibility cloak to good use this weekend?

Harry gave Ron a conspiring look. "Great minds think alike."

Ron stopped in mid-step, causing Neville behind him to almost lose his balance on the marble step.

"Sorry mate," Ron apologised to Neville, and tugged slightly on Harry's sleeve to pull him closer. He lowered his voice to a whisper, "I wouldn't tell Hermione if I were you."

Harry nodded. "Good point. She'd have a fit if she even suspected that I was planning on sneaking out to Hogsmeade."

Ron's eyebrows knit together in confusion. "Where is Hermione by the way?" He swiveled his head. He glanced around at the last straggle of students that were making their way up the staircase behind him. Hermione was nowhere in sight.

Harry shook his head. "I don't know. Haven't seen her since breakfast."

"If she doesn't come soon, she's going to be late," Ron observed, with a quirk of his pale lips. Hermione was never late to class. Hermione never failed a quiz. Hermione never failed to complete her homework. Hermione never got into trouble, and Hermione never got a detention. Well...scratch the last two. Ron took perverse pleasure in the knowledge that perhaps he and Harry had influenced their uptight friend to let her hair down a bit and not be so hesitant to bend the rules a bit. After all, that was what rules were for, were they not? At least, that was Fred and George's motto.

Harry wrinkled his nose at the heavy scent of incense that clung to the air, as they entered the Divination classroom. Small tables with floral-patterned tablecloths draped over them, dotted the room. Harry shook his head; he felt like he was at a crossover between a tea-party and a séance. Shelves, housing hundreds of tea-cups and saucers lined the classroom, and each student had their own teacup and saucer in front of them.

Harry and Ron smirked at each other, and quickly took a seat at the nearest table.

"Welcome to the Art of Divination."

Harry shuddered. If ever he'd imagined what a human insect would look like, well...Professor Trelawney was it.

Professor Trelawney was a thin woman, with frizzy orange hair and a pointed, pale face. She wore large-framed black glasses with thick lenses that magnified her eyes, making them look three times their size. She wore long flowing robes, with brightly-coloured silk scarves around her neck and so many long, heavy gold and silver chains around her neck that Harry wondered how on earth she managed to stay upright; they looked as though they weighed a ton.

"In this class," she continued, "you will learn if you have the sight."

"What a load of rubbish."

Harry swirled his head around, and he and Ron shared an incredulous look.

Hermione was squeezed in between the two of them, looking for the entire world that she had been sitting there the whole time.

Ron scrunched up his face, in a puzzled frown. "Where'd you come from?" he whispered.

"What do you mean? I've been here the whole time."

Before Harry or Ron could question her further, Trelawney's hypnotic drawl interrupted them.

"Now, you will each take turns reading each others' futures."

Ron rolled his eyes. "How in bloody hell are we supposed to do that?"

"Look deeply into your teacup and the answer will reveal itself to you," Trelawney said in an airy voice.

---------

Harry couldn't flee the classroom soon enough, when the bell rang.

Trelawney's strange words echoed in his ear, and he couldn't get the sight of the coffee grounds swirling in the cup, morphing into the form of, what looked like the Grim. He shivered. Why couldn't his life ever be simple? Was danger to follow him, wherever he went? Was this to be an omen of what life had in store for him? And was this a sign to solidify what he'd always believed; that his was going to be a short life, fraught with danger and mystery? Was Malfoy Sr. right? Was he going to meet a sticky end, just like his parents had?

Harry loosened his tie; his head was swirling and he felt as though he couldn't get enough air.

Ron laid his hand on Harry's arm, and held him back.

"Are you alright mate?"

Harry swiped his sweaty brow and nodded. "Yeah, sure. I mean... it's all rubbish-- just like Hermione said, right?"

"Yeah of course it is. There's no such thing as the Grim. It's all nonsense."

Harry suspected that Ron was simply trying to assuage his fears, and didn't believe a word of what he was saying.

Harry tried to forget the image of the glittering charcoal eyes, and the long, yellow pointy teeth.

-----------

Harry hung back and watched the throngs of students lining up and handing Filch and McGonagall their permission slips, so that they might attend the Hogsmeade trip. He felt the bitter resentment rise up like bile once more; again he wasn't allowed to be normal, just for once in his life.

No...of course not!! Merlin forbid that Harry bloody Boy-Who-Lived Potter should ever have fun--should ever be allowed to just be a kid; without a care in the world. Not having to worry about a maniacal killer who was out for his blood.

Harry clutched his invisibility cloak tightly and ground his teeth. One thing was for certain--he was not going to miss out on Hogsmeade again. He knew of course, that if he got caught, he'd be in deep trouble. Snape would turn him into Potions ingredients. Harry shivered. He did not want to think about the fact that Snape was now his guardian--temporary or otherwise.

Well, he'd be damned if he'd miss another trip to Hogsmeade. Last one had been bad enough.

Just as he was about to slip his invisibility cloak over his shoulders, someone grabbed him by the back of his jumper and he was pulled behind a pillar by two pair of strong arms; namely--Fred and George Weasley's strong arms!

"What?" Harry sputtered in protest. "What are you doing? I'm trying to get to Hogsmeade."

"And we are here to make your life that much easier," they said in unison, with twin smirks to match.

Harry scrunched up his eyebrows. "And just how are you going to do that?"

George reached into his trousers' pocket, and handed the contents to a puzzled Harry.

"With this, my little friend."

----------

Remus ran his long fingers through his windblown hair. A small breeze rippled through the trees, and his stomach clenched as his pale eyes fell on the branches of the Whomping willow, smacking the ground with a thud, and flinging the earth, that was softened from the recent rainfall, into the air.

With a sigh, he pushed the strap of his tattered duffel bag, further up his frail shoulder, and trudged up the pathway towards the wrought-iron gates.

The pale yellow glow of the setting sun, dipping behind the distant mountains shadowed the majestic arches of Hogwarts.

As Remus entered the castle, his heels clacking on the marble floors echoed through the high walls of the Castle. He pulled his pocket watch from his trousers' pocket, and looked around at the students streaming out of the Great Hall; dinner-time had just ended.

"Ah. Remus."

Remus swung his head around.

"Headmaster."

"Back from your stroll?"

Remus furrowed his brow. "My stroll?"

We missed you at dinner," Albus said softly--his normally twinkling blue eyes, clouded with concern. "You are not...ill? he asked, leaning forward slightly to study the younger man's pale face.

Remus shook his head. "Ill?" Comprehension lit up his eyes. "Oh, ill! No Albus." He patted his bulging trousers' pocket. He still had enough Wolfsbane to carry him through the period before and after the Full-Moon. "I am quite fine."

"Severus, I trust has been a little more...co-operative, shall we say?"

"Cooperative?"

Remus shook his head. Co-operative was not a word that he'd ever used to describe Severus Snape.

"Yes, I had a rather stern talk with him and he won't be holding your Wolfsbane hostage again, I assure you."

"Hostage?" Remus crinkled his brow. "Well, that is reassuring I suppose."

Albus pulled out a Sherbet Lemon from his pocket and offered it to the haggard-looking man.

"No thank you Albus.'

Albus' eyes sparkled when he smiled. "Very well then. Feel free to request some dinner from the kitchens. You're looking rather peaked, if you don't mind me saying."

"Thank you Albus, I believe I will. I am rather exhausted after my long journey."

Now it was Albus' turn to look confused. "Long journey?" Albus nodded his head slowly. "Well, then perhaps an early night is called for."

"Yes, I do believe you are right."

"Good evening then Remus. Oh....and Remus-"

"Yes?"

"Word is...that the students are quite pleased with your performance thus far as Defence Professor. Well done."

Remus lips parted in surprise.

"Thank you," he stuttered.

Remus watched the Headmaster glide off in a flurry of star-and-moon decorated blue robes, with the grace and speed of man half his age.

The man may be brilliant in many ways, he thought, but still spoke in riddles, as he'd always done.

Remus made his way to his quarters, thinking only of a lovely cuppa and putting his weary feet up.

Remus let his duffle bag drop with a thud to the floor, and pointed his wand at the lock on the door to his private quarters. He muttered the password, and with a swish of his wand, the door opened with a pop.

The first thing that Remus noticed when he stepped into his quarters was the colourful array of clothes strewn about the parlour. Remus picked up a pair of worn grey trousers that were hanging on the back of the sofa; he narrowed his eyes. These were the same pair of trousers that had mysteriously gone missing from his suitcase, along with....

Remus' heart was pounding with a thud. There was a dark blue cardigan, black socks, a pair of scuffed-up black shoes; every item of clothing that had gone missing weeks ago.

Sounds of water dripping from the direction of the loo had Lupin whipping out his wand as he stealthily made his way down the darkened corridor.

Remus cautiously grabbed the door-handle with one hand, gripping the smooth, polished wood handle of his wand, till his knuckles ached.

As Remus inched open the door to the lavatory, his robes clung to him; billows of steam crept up his nostrils, and his skin felt clammy. Strains of singing--off-key singing, had him loosening his grip on his wand. He raked his hand through his now moist hair. He could see the silhouette of a tall figure behind the floral shower curtains, obviously scrubbing every inch of his body. Remus coloured, as he imagined having to confront an intruder who was starkers!

The pipes creaked and protested as the shower was turned off, and a thin, dripping-wet, hairy arm reached out to grab a towel from the towel rack.

Remus rather doubted, that a naked, dripping-wet intruder was going to be much trouble subduing, so he pocketed his wand, and folded his arms across his chest. However, his amused expression froze on his face, when the rungs on the shower curtain clattered on the metal pole overhead, as they were pulled aside, and first a rather large big toe appeared, followed by a long thin leg, and torso, wrapped in a fluffy-white bath towel, and a face that matched his own, stared back in horror.

---------

Harry's heart beat against his chest, as he frantically scrambled back along tunnel. He had just shoved his invisibility cloak in back of the statue of the Hump-Backed Witch, when he looked up--only to see the glittering black eyes of one extremely pissed-off Severus Snape.

Harry swallowed the large lump in his throat and wiped his muddy hands as discretely as possible on the rough fabric of his jeans.

Harry mustered as innocent an expression as he possibly could, and looked up into the tight, thin-lipped face of Snape. "Professor." was the only words he could choke out.

Damned, Harry thought. He knew that his temper and his penchant for acting first and thinking later, would be the death of him, but bloody hell, he could not let that prat Malfoy get away with harassing his best friends. He should have known that Malfoy would go running to his Head of House. But, it was so much fun to torture Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle. And the look on their faces, when mud came flying out of nowhere! It was worth even the possible weeks of detention he faced with Snape just to put the toerag in his place.

"Follow me Potter," Snape's cold voice ordered.

Harry gulped. On second thought, maybe a few hours fun in Hogsmeade, and having one up on Malfoy and his goons, was not worth facing Snape's wrath.

Harry's legs were shaking as he ran to keep up with Snape's billowing robes.

They turned the corner abruptly, and Harry stopped--rooted to the spot.

"Potter." Snape's silky voice forced his quivering limbs to obey.

Harry sneaked another look behind him, but the corridors were empty. Maybe too many Sugar Quills were to blame, or maybe too much fresh air... Harry shook his head; he'd only had one Firewhiskey at The Three Broomsticks. Surely, that wasn't enough to be making him see double? But he could have sworn that he'd seen Professor Lupin having an animated conversation with himself!

To be continued...


This story archived at http://www.potionsandsnitches.org/fanfiction/viewstory.php?sid=1875