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: 97333 Published: 04 Jul 2009 Updated: 16 Jul 2012
Cat and Rat and Dog by Pandora
Author's Notes:
Usual Disclaimers apply, all characters belong to J.K. Rowling.

A huge thanks to my beta ObsidianEmbrace. You're the best. Anyone who hasn't read, "A Life More Ordinary" and "Lily's Charm: Legacy", go read them now! That's an order!! (Just kidding!) but really...go read her stories, they're brilliant!!

Thanks Kristeh for all your support, and I can't wait for your next chappie of Slave Child!! Amazing read for those who haven't checked it out yet.

Some direct quotes were taken from POA book by J.K. Rowling. I think that it's also possible that I inadvertently "borrowed" this chapter name as well!!

Ron's jaw dropped in horror. “Are you sure mate?”

Harry nodded; his throat was too clogged to speak. It was no wonder that everyone was acting strangely, when a madman was out for his blood. Stan had made a reference to Sirius Black having been a big supporter of Voldemort.

Harry stuffed the cloak back quickly into his trunk. He had dragged Hermione and Ron up to his room, so that he could speak privately with them, but he knew that soon the adults would be looking for them—him especially.

Hermione scrunched her eyebrows. “But why would he be interested in you?”

"Ow, Scabbers ... calm down," Ron yelped when the rat tried desperately to flee again. He had just managed to maintain his hold on the slimy creature as his eyes bulged out. Crookshanks began to claw and hiss when the rat snuck from the protective grasp that Ron had on him between the folds of his jacket.

“Because he's a follower of Voldemort, that's why,” Harry said angrily.

Ron flinched when Harry said the name Voldemort, instead of You-Know-Who.

Suddenly, Ron's rat began to squeal loudly and Crookshanks growled.

"Uh, Ron maybe you'd better put him away," Harry said worriedly. He didn't like the glint in Crookshanks’ eyes.

Ron looked at Crookshanks with a scowl on his face. "Yeah, I guess I'd better."

Ron looked down at his rat affectionately. "Poor Scabbers, he hasn't been looking too well. I had to get him a tonic at the pet shop and everything, and then she-" He jabbed his finger in Hermione's direction. "-goes and buys that psychotic cat.”

"He's not psychotic," Hermione huffed. "Come dumpling. I'm going to put you away because some people have poorly behaved pets." She stomped off angrily.

"Honestly. I told her not to buy that thing, but did she listen? No!" Ron groused.

Harry peered closer at the trembling rat that had nuzzled his nose in Ron's shirt. "Uh ... Ron, he's missing a-"

"-A paw; yeah I know. Well, Percy had him for twelve years, before I got him, and Merlin knows how old he was then."

"And he's still alive?" Harry asked incredulously.

"Yeah, crazy isn't it? The chap at the pet shop couldn't believe that Scabbers was that old. Was quite insulting really." Ron hugged his rat closer.

Personally, Harry couldn't blame the guy. It was really the scruffiest, scrawniest rat that Harry had ever seen. His ear was even chewed. He really was a pathetic creature, the poor thing. And those bulging eyes of his- Harry shuddered. He really was a creepy-looking rodent. There was just something that Harry couldn't pinpoint, but the rat made his skin crawl.

"C'mon, let's go," Harry urged. "Snape watches me like a hawk, and I don't want him suspecting that I know anything."

"Yeah okay; let me just put Scabbers back in his cage."

------

Snape gave Harry a suspicious look as he and Ron came down the stairs.

"Where have you been hiding, Potter?"

Harry patted his sweaty palms on his jeans. "Uh ... well Ron just had to put his rat back in his cage, sir."

Snape narrowed his eyes at Harry and Harry squirmed under his glare. He got the feeling that the man didn't believe a word he had just said, but he simply pursed his lips and went off in a swirl of robes, in the other direction; presumably to talk with Mr. Weasley, who had been staring at Harry since the moment that he and Ron had stepped down from the last step.

Harry and Ron went to join Fred, George and Ginny, who were excitedly huddled around a large table in the corner, looking at the Daily Prophet. Percy looked on, leaning against the wall, arms crossed, and a haughty expression on his face.

Harry looked at Ron questioningly.

"Look," he pointed to the picture of himself, and his family on the front page of the paper with the caption:

MINISTRY OF MAGIC EMPLOYEE SCOOPS GRAND PRIZE

Harry grinned. "You won the lottery?" He patted Ron on the back. "That's great news mate."

"Yeah, and we went to Egypt," Ron explained excitedly. "We saw the Pyramids and Mummies."

"I'm so happy for you," Harry said sincerely. And he was. If anyone deserved to win the lottery, it was the Weasleys.

"Yeah, and look," Ron said, pointing his finger at the paper. "Even Scabbers had a good time."

Scabbers’ eyes darted back and forth, looking up at the camera nervously.

Harry couldn't help but think that the timid rat looked anything but happy that he was having his picture taken. Ron kept turning the creature's head towards the camera, but Scabbers was resisting him furiously.

"So," Hermione said as she joined them. "Harry, you never really told us how it came about that you were staying with Snape."

Ron's head perked up at that as well.

Damn, Harry thought. He had really been hoping he wouldn’t have to explain that.

Harry beckoned them over to a table in the corner. They took a seat and ordered a round of Butterbeers from the same blonde beauty that had served Snape and Harry, the night that Harry had run away. A look of recognition flickered in her eyes. Harry was wondering how she even remembered him. He had been a mess that night. Probably because of his scar, he thought bitterly, as he patted his fringe down on his forehead.

"Well, actually..." Harry began, avoiding direct eye contact. "I sort of blew up my Aunt Marge."

Ron's jaw dropped, and Hermione's eyes widened in surprise.

"You what?" Ron asked incredulously.

Harry took a swig of Butterbeer. "Well, she was being a right old bitch, and I'd had enough, and I kind of lost my temper, then, I-uh-ran away. I took the Knight bus to The Leaky Cauldron, and who should I run into ... literally, but our favourite Potions master," he said with a grimace.

Ron burst out laughing, and Hermione swatted his arm.

"Ron, it's not funny. Harry could have gotten expelled for using underage magic."

"Actually, I'm lucky that I didn't end up in Azkaban."

Ron looked horrified. "Don't even joke about that mate. I've heard it's guarded by Dementors."

Harry's eyes crinkled in confusion. "Dementors?"

Ron shivered. "Yeah, they suck the life out of you and make you feel like you'll never be cheerful again. At least that's what I heard. Azkaban is the most horrible place that you could ever be. It's impossible to escape"

Harry felt tingles up his spine. "So how did Sirius Black do it then?"

Hermione and Ron shook their heads.

"They don't know Harry, but now that you know that he's after you, you've got to be a lot more careful." she said sternly.

Harry smiled warmly at her. "Yes Mum."

Hermione blushed. "Well, it's true, Harry. What you did was very foolish. Thank goodness that Professor Snape was there to take you in."

Ron looked at Harry oddly. "But I still don't understand. Why Snape, and how come Dumbledore didn't send you back to the Dursleys?"

Harry shifted uncomfortably. "Well ... you know. He probably thought that it was safer for me to stay at Hogwarts--with Sirius Black on the loose and all."

Ron accepted that excuse, but Hermione was still thinking about Harry's slip-up about his relatives earlier. Harry was clearly holding something back from them, and she had a feeling that it had to do with his relatives’ treatment of him.

-------

The next morning, Harry's stomach fluttered with excitement. He was going to be getting his school supplies today, and he was looking forward to hanging out with his best friends in Diagon Alley. He wondered if he could convince Snape that a trip to Fortescue's Ice-cream Parlour would be in order. He was really hoping that Snape wasn't going to cramp his style too much with his friends.

While Harry sifted through the stack of crisp new clothing, his heart sunk as his hand clasped onto a crumpled piece of paper. The Hogsmeade Permission Slip. Uncle Vernon's signature had been conditional upon Harry's good behaviour throughout Aunt Marge's visit. He didn't imagine that blowing her up counted. Unless ... he asked Snape to sign it. Yeah right! As if Snape would ever agree to it, now that he knew that Sirius Black was after him.

Harry smiled in a mixture of horror and amusement as his trunk started to shake and rumble, and he looked down and saw Hagrid's birthday gift sitting at the bottom of the trunk. Harry had received it at the Dursleys, along with his other standard birthday greetings, and presents from the Weasleys, Ron and Hermione. There was a cryptic note attached to it that read,

Dear Harry,

Happy Birthday!

Thought that you might find this useful for the coming year. Won't say no more here.

Tell you when I see you.

Harry's stomach had clenched at the salutation,

Hope those Muggles are treating you right.

All the best,

Hagrid.

Harry's hands had fumbled nervously ripping open the plain brown paper. After all, who knows what sort of gift Hagrid would send. Sure enough, Harry jumped back in horror, and a, well...what could you call it? A book with fur? And five beady eyes, and large pointy teeth that snapped at him, when he tried to open it? Written on the cover, was the title, "The Monster Book of Monsters." Harry had had to throw his shoe on top of it and tie his belt around it.

And during the time that Harry had spent with Hagrid during the last three weeks, Hagrid refused to tell him anything. He said that he had to wait till term began ... that it was a surprise.

Staring at the book now, Harry scratched his head. Why on earth would Hagrid send him such a book? One could only wonder when it came to Hagrid!

"Hurry up, Potter," Snape snapped at him, making Harry jump. He stashed the book quickly back into the trunk, but the book was clearly not pleased, and rattled the hinges on the old trunk as it quivered and shook. Finally, it seemed as though the book realised that it was going nowhere and quieted down. Harry sighed in relief.

"It is impolite to keep the Weasleys waiting while you take your time deciding what to wear," Snape sneered.

Harry ground his teeth. So what if he wanted to savour the feeling of having a choice of what to wear, for the first time in his life. He let his hands slide over the cool cotton of his new shirts, and the smooth textures of his trousers, jumpers and warm wool socks for the coming winter. And the best part of it was that the clothes actually fit him properly.

"Potter!"

Fine, Harry grumbled to himself. Harry was quickly learning to keep his thoughts to himself. He wouldn't put it past the man to put a stop to this much anticipated outing as punishment for being insolent.

"Yes sir," he said obediently, and rushed to get washed and dressed.

--------

Harry grinned as he took in the sights of Diagon Alley, Droves of students and parents were rushing about madly to do their last minute shopping. It was September first tomorrow, and Harry was excited about the beginning of term, even if he had been there already for the past three weeks. After all, it had been a little lonely with only Snape and Hagrid to keep him company. Now the term would begin, and he'd be back in the Tower with his friends. The only black spot on the whole thing was, one ... he had a deranged murderer out for his blood, and two ... he'd probably be stuck in the castle while all the other third years and up were visiting Hogsmeade.

He wondered if there was anyone else who'd be willing to sign that permission slip. Maybe he could forge his Uncle's signature. Somehow, though, he didn't think that it would make a difference if he had his uncle's permission or not. Dumbledore would probably force him to stay close to the castle, just as he'd done all summer ... with Snape as his guard dog.

Harry was thankful that Snape seemed to be in deep conversation with Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, and except for the occasional glance backwards, with a lift of the eyebrow, to warn him to behave and to not wander off (as if the long and stern lecture, with many threats of long monotonous detentions, were not sufficient), he walked ahead of them, so Harry was free to enjoy the company of his, for once non-bickering companions, who had left their pets at The Leaky Cauldron.

One thing that Harry loved about Diagon Alley, was the colourful array of Wizarding society that graced its streets. Tall wizards, short wizards, with green hair, orange hair, purple and yellow hair, long tresses wound in buns atop their heads, or hanging down the back of their colourful robes in plaits, small children with lollipops of all flavours and colours, and elderly wizards with white beards that touched the cobblestoned streets as they hobbled along with their canes-- nothing was too strange. Severus pursed his lips disapprovingly at the horde of blonde children who were whining and tugging onto their harassed-looking mother's flowing robes, begging for her to buy them miniature brooms.

Harry then noticed a clutch of children, of all ages, crowded around the window pane of his favourite store of all time; the Quidditch shop that specialized, in brooms and Quidditch gear of all kinds. Harry nudged his way in closer. His breath hitched when he saw ... on a podium that was set up in front of the window, placed proudly on a red velvet cloth draped over the podium, the most beautiful broom that he'd ever laid his eyes on. Written on a gold plaque attached to the burnished wood of the podium, was engraved the words, "Firebolt" with a lengthy description of its attributes beneath.

His interest was piqued when he overheard a young boy's excited voice, "Prototype just came out. The fastest broom on earth, isn't it dad?" he asked excitedly as he looked up eagerly into his father's face.

His father looked fondly down on his young son. 'Yes son, it's the favourite of the World cup, and the Irish side has ordered seven of them."

"Wow," the young boy squealed in delight.

Harry couldn't help but wish Snape had allowed him to make a visit to Gringotts before coming. It was very tempting. He could just picture Malfoy's face if he were to purchase the fastest broom on earth. He'd leave the annoying Slytherin in a cloud of dust, as he bolted to the skies, before Malfoy even made it off the ground. The Quidditch Cup would surely be Gryffindor's if Harry had a Firebolt. Unfortunately, Snape had again told him quite firmly that children were not expected to buy their own school supplies, and that he should just purchase what was required and ask no further questions. Harry was burning with curiosity as to who was paying for all the new clothes that Snape had bought him only yesterday, and the school supplies that they'd yet to buy today.

Harry exchanged looks with Ron, who had just come up behind him, and knew that the redhead was thinking the same thing as Harry, that if their team only had Firebolts, then they'd win against Slytherin for sure, and rub it in Malfoy's smug face afterwards.

"Potter." a deep voice growled behind him. "Move it; we want to finish shopping, sometime before the sun sets.”

Trust Snape to ruin the moment, Harry thought caustically. No one could ruin a good time better than the greasy git of the dungeons. Harry wished that he had been able to come on his own, and spend his own money. He could have taken his time, and he could buy what he wanted without worrying about how much it cost. But then a twinge of guilt twisted in his stomach. Snape had been surprisingly generous the past few weeks, and he was acting like a spoilt brat.

"Sorry sir," Harry attempted to say politely.

"Severus, would you like to attend to your own purchases," Molly asked, as she pointed to the apothecary, "while I take Harry and the other children to purchase their books and robes?"

Severus nodded gratefully. Yes, he would love to ditch the horde of noisy, hyperactive children. He'd kill for a few minutes of peace while he took a relaxing jaunt down the aisles of potions ingredients and inhaled the relaxing, familiar aromas. He was also looking forward to chatting with the Potions Master who ran the establishment, about the newest discoveries in utensils and cauldrons and brewing methods.

Snape gave Harry a stern look, "You are to behave yourself, Mr. Potter, and obey any direction that Mr. and Mrs. Weasley give you. As well, you will not wander off on your own. Is that clear?"

"Yes sir."

"Very well," he said as he retrieved his pocket watch from his robes.

Harry thought it very odd at how the man seemed to be inclined to use Muggle methods and surround himself with Muggle items. In an odd sort of way, he reminded Harry a bit of Mr. Weasley. Although, Mr. Weasley had no clue what the items that he so desperately collected, were used for.

"We will meet in about two hours, let's say," Mr. Weasley suggested.

Severus nodded. Two hours of quiet bliss, without whiny children in tow. How could he possibly refuse?

"Yes, that is acceptable."

"Well, then children, let's be on our way," Mrs. Weasley said, as she put a plump arm around Harry and Ron's shoulder, to gently urge them on their way.

Both Harry and Ron took one last, longing look at the Firebolt and sighed resignedly.

"So my mum says that the Ministry is sending cars tomorrow to bring us to the train station," Ron whispered to Harry and Hermione.

Harry's stomach plunged. "Probably because of me," he sighed.

"Harry, don't feel bad," Hermione soothed. "They just want to make sure that you're safe, that's all. It's just a precaution, nothing more."

Ron nodded. "Yeah, that's all," he agreed.

But Harry couldn't help but shiver, as they passed, yet another of wanted posters of Sirius Black plastered all over Diagon Alley and the Leakey Cauldron.

"Here we go children," said Mrs. Weasley, as she stopped in front of Flourish and Blotts. Once inside, Harry went searching for the books on his list. He was taking two new courses this year, Care of Magical Creatures, and Divination.

Harry's jaw dropped when he saw the book that Hagrid had given him in a cage under lock and key!

A weary-looking clerk approached him. "I suppose that you want one of those," he asked resignedly.

"Uh, no thank you sir. I already have that book."

The clerk look relieved, that is ... until Ron came over, dragging Mrs. Weasley with him.

"Look Mum," Ron said, with eyes as wide as saucers. "It says here that I need that book for Care of Magical Creatures."

Mrs. Weasley snatched the list out of Ron's hands, and as her eyes scanned the list, her shoulders slumped.

"Oh dear," she sighed. "I suppose you're right."

Harry felt a twinge of pity for the clerk, as his lower lip trembled, and he reluctantly went to open the cage.

Harry wandered to the back of the shop, searching for the books on his list. His heart started pounding, when he came upon a book with the caption, "Death Omens: What to do when the End is coming." It had a picture of a large black dog on the front cover. It looked sort of like that dog he’d seen through his window. Harry could feel the goose bumps pop up on his arm.

"Can I help ya, laddie?"

Harry jumped.

Harry pointed to the book. "What does that mean sir? I mean--if you see that dog?"

"Aye, the Grim, ya mean?"

"The what?"

"The Grim," he repeated. "Legend has it, that those who are slated to die will see an omen of death beforehand."

Harry's mouth went dry. "You mean, that if you s-see, the Grim, that means you are going to-to di-die?"

The kindly clerk clasped Harry gently by the shoulders and led him off to the front of the store. "Now Laddie, you don't wanna be readin a book like that. You'll be seein death omens everywhere," he said knowingly.

Harry was in a daze, as Mrs. Weasley dragged him and the other children from shop to shop, purchasing their books, and then their robes. Ron especially had grown several inches, and of course the twins seemed to grow faster than weeds. It was quite depressing really, Harry thought. He'd barely grown at all in a year, and even Hermione was at least as tall as him, if not slightly taller.

At least Ginny, who kept sneaking adoring glances at him, was still smaller than him.

Exactly two hours later, Mrs. Weasley dragged them into the Apothecary where they met up with Snape, who scowled at having his peace interrupted by a horde of ill-behaved Weasley children, and one, small, messy-haired boy, who looked too much like James Potter for comfort ... or did he?

It must be the light, he thought. He could swear that Potter's cheekbones were just a little sharper than they had been, and his hair didn't look quite as messy as it had before. No, Severus admonished himself, the boy was, and always would be a carbon-copy of James Potter. But with Lily's eyes, a little, unwelcome voice intruded on his thoughts. Severus scowled.

Mr. Weasley had somehow disappeared somewhere along the way, only to reappear suddenly outside the Apothecary at the specified time.

"Did you settle the matter that we spoke about?" Severus asked mysteriously.

"Mr. Weasley nodded.” Yes Severus, it's all arranged."

Harry, Ron and Hermione exchanged glances. Harry couldn't get the image of the Grim out of his mind.

"Come Potter," Snape's deep voice interrupted his musings.

Harry looked up in surprise. "Sir?"

"Come with me, and we'll collect your potions ingredients," he elaborated.

Although Harry was a little reluctant to leave his friends, he couldn't help the odd feeling of pleasure that Snape wanted to help him acquire his potions supplies. Harry was quite certain that Snape would have jumped at the chance to get rid of him at the first opportunity; he only took Harry in out of duty to Dumbledore, after all.

"Yes sir."

Ron scowled.

Harry shrugged his shoulders. He wasn't about to refuse Snape's request, after all. Ron didn't have to know that he really hadn't wanted to either.

---------

Never before had the employees of the Department of Magical Mysteries felt so frustrated and incompetent. They stared at the battered box before them, and scratched their heads. No less than six DMM employees, four Aurors, two top aides to the Minister of Magic, and the Minister of Magic himself had attempted to perform every charm, spell, or hex that they could think of ... to no avail. The box refused to open.

And, so it was that on this ... once again, dark and stormy night, the same Aurors who had found the box originally, returned to Godric's Hollow, to hopefully find some answers.

As they searched through the debris the rain splattered on the smoky window panes, and the loud crackles of thunder echoed eerily through the night air. Suddenly, there was a large roll of thunder, and an enormous bang, making them all jump. They rushed to look out the window. The large oak tree that had once stood in the front garden was now lying on the ground; it's large trunk charred, and split down the middle where the lightning had obviously struck it.

It was strange how grown men, all but one, experienced Aurors, could feel a shiver run up their spines simply because lightning had felled a tree.

"Come," the dark-haired man ordered sternly. "We have work to do."

The younger man, Richard, turned to obey, but a movement in the window caught his eye.

He shook his head. I must be imagining things, he thought when a second look only showed the wind whipping the tree branches back and forth and the heavy rain pounding on the ground.

"Richard," a deep voice reprimanded. "Move away from that window at once, and join in the search. We all have families to get home to. We don't have all night to indulge in childish fears."

His face flushed. "Yes sir," he mumbled.

Just as he was about to turn however, lightning illuminated the window frame, and two dark, smouldering eyes, belonging to what looked like the Grim, flashed for an instant before his eyes, and then the image disappeared with the lightning.

Spooked, he hurried to join his colleagues, as fast as his shaking limbs would carry him, daring to turn his head and take one last peek out the window. But the image was gone. Perhaps he'd imagined it, but nevertheless, he felt tingles of fear dance up his spine.

The Aurors worked tediously for the next couple of hours, searching once again with a fine tooth comb, every nook and cranny they could find. Just as they were about to admit defeat, Richard's foot stepped on a loose floorboard, close to where they had found the original hidden compartment. The floorboard flipped up, almost knocking him in the eye, but there, under the floorboards was a frayed and yellow piece of parchment, rolled up and secured with a red ribbon.

Trembling fingers fumbled with the ribbon, and unrolled the parchment hesitantly.

Gasps of shock echoed through the hollow walls of the cottage.

Printed at the top of the Scroll, and written in Calligraphy-style writing, were the words,

Last Will and Testament of James and Lily Potter

As they unfurled the parchment further, a large gold key clattered on the hard wood floor. They exchanged glances. Could this be the key for the box? But no ... as they scanned the document, it was clear that the key was for James and Lily's vault at Gringotts.

So, James and Lily's will was at Gringotts? Or was the will in the box that they'd already discovered? One thing was clear; they were still no closer to figuring out how to open the mysterious box. But it would seem that the answers lay at Gringotts.

To be continued...


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